#and his complete lack of reaction to being a passenger in the drift car

[sollucets]

various firsts from earth - mix space season 2 e5

[anotherimaginethatblog]

Family Gatherings

Meet the parents.

Pairing: Kenny x reader

Warnings: small mention of something cheeky ... maybe more in part 2

Summary: you finally make the trip to meet Kenny’s family.

so i finally found the time to sit and write a little and this ended up being a lil longer than expected bit ive enjoyed writing this one, probably be a part two (possibly 3) so let me know what you think x 

hope you like it 

You were nervous, you had been since the day Kenny booked your airline ticket to Winnipeg so you could finally meet his family. You had heard all the stories about them, and they sounded lovely, but you were still, naturally nervous. Constant thoughts had flown through your head since the day you packed, what if they didn’t like you? Didn’t approve of you? you took another sip of your drink hoping the soothing flavour would relax you.

An hour later the pilot informed the plane full of weary passengers that the flight would be making its late arrival at the airport shortly, you began to gather your things up and pack them back into your designer backpack Kenny had bought you as a gift but couldn’t help thinking you’d made a mistake by bringing it, what if they thought you were showing off? Too gaudy? “breathe” you told yourself “it’ll be fine, they’ll love you” you said trying to boost your self-confidence.

“sorry mam, but would you mind stowing your bag? Were going to land soon that’s all” asked the kind stewardess who had given you that extra miniature off the drinks trolly earlier, probably due to the anxiety she saw on your face after striking up a conversation about why you’d be visiting Winnipeg in November.

“sure, sorry” you smiled back.

 Finally, After the stress of the queue at passport control, your bag coming off the plane last and trying to find your way out of the baggage hall altogether you were here. You grabbed your phone out of your bag to see a text from Kenny already, “waiting in the arrivals hall, ring me when your out” it read. You dialled his number and he picked up immediately, so quick he must have been waiting for you thought. “finally, you here yet?” he laughed.

“yeah, just got through, been a nightmare” you replied, “where you at?” you asked him.

“just at the coffee shop with my dad, well wait here for you. You’ll see it if you walk to the end”.

“okay babes see you in a sec” you replied before hanging up, instantly feeling nervous. His dad. You were going to meet his dad for the first time in an airport after hours of travel. Fantastic.

You saw Kenny straight away, those two-tone curls where recognisable anywhere. He looked relaxed and rested whilst he sat chatting to his dad unbeknown to you about how nervous he was for you to see his home and family. “what if she thinks I’m a huge loser once she’s seen I’m just a weird kid from Canada?” he asked his dad. His anxiety spiking in anticipation.

“she won’t, she sounds a great girl and clearly likes you so stop worrying.” His dad replied smiling at his son.

So deep in conversation they hadn’t seen you approach, “hey ken” you said, smiling from ear to ear at finally being reunited.

“babe, you look amazing, I missed you so much” said Kenny, words spilling out with a huge smile in his face as he looked you up and down, clearly appreciating the effort you had made. “this is my dad, (y/n)” he said stepping to the side to introduce the older gentleman who looked very much like his son.

“hi, I’m (y/n), I’m so happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you Kenny always talks about you” you replied any nerves melting away at how normal and nice he seemed, internally laughing at why you were so nervous in the first place.

“nice to meet you too, we’ve heard everything about you I’m so glad you managed to make it out. Big freeze on the way” he said. “let’s get home, before it’s too dark and your mother kills us for being late.” He laughed.

Kenny grabbed your bags and you both followed to the car as soon as you left the terminal you regretted your choice of coat. The leather jacket though warm was not enough to keep your heat against the cold Canadian weather “I told you to get a good coat (y/n)” said Kenny shaking his head at you.

“okay, I just thought you where exaggerating” you replied shivering.

“your so cute, its not far to walk” he said.

After realising Kenny’s definition of short walk was not the same as yours you reached the car and were incredibly grateful when his dad opened it for you so you could jump straight in. “thankyou” you told him while he cranked the heat up for you.

“no problem, its not a far drive either so well have you home and warm in a little while” he told you smiling at your lack of appreciation for the Canada winters.

 After a 40-minute drive you were at Kenny’s childhood home, it was just what you had imagined after hearing all of the stories from him about living in the suburbs as a kid. It was your classic suburban home with a lawn out front and a porch to sit on. It was actually really cute, you where excited to see inside. Kenny’s dad got out and left you two to make your way in, all of a sudden you where back to the nervous girl on the plane with the millions of questions about whether you where enough flooding your brain. All of a sudden Kenny planted his lips on yours and you snapped out of whatever you where thinking of immediately “they’re gonna love you, because I love you” he said. It was like he could read your mind and you kissed him back, you’d missed him so much in the time you’d been apart and if it wasn’t for being in his dads car outside his parents house you’d have climbed over and had him right there in the car. The moment was perfect for it … but the location was severely lacking. “we better get in the house before my mom sends my dad back out to get us” he smirked pulling away, clearly thinking the same thoughts you had been a few minutes prior.

“okay” you smiled back “lets go”.

 Once inside the house you felt relaxed all of a sudden, it felt like a home and all the stress you had had about the visit faded away. You took your coat and shoes off and followed Kenny into the kitchen where a beautiful blonde lady stood at the counter. “Tyson, and this must be (y/n). your so pretty” she said patting her son on the shoulder in an approving manor.

“thanks mom, I’m glas you two finally get to spend some time together. It’ll be nice to have the family all under one roof again.” He replied, with his mum giving you the once over.

“I’m so glad you’ve finally brought us a girl home, I thought you’d never setlle down to be honest” she said teasing her only son.

“mom” he said laughing back “I’m gonna take our stuff up, my room yeah?” he asked

“mhmm, and (y/n) across the hall” she said trying to gauge her sons reaction.

“your joking, I’m a grown man mom” said Kenny laughing trying to cover for the fact he’d been wanting to get you into bed since he’d seen you in the airport in those skin tight pants he loved so much.

“Its fine” you interjected not wanting to upset Kenny’s mum and to stop a fight over a room before you’d even settled in. “its fine, I totally respect that. We respect that don’t we ken” you said looking at him with pleading eyes to drop it.

“fine, its fine” he said turning to walk upstairs leaving His mum feeling guilty, though she would never admit it. Honestly she had no problem with the two of you sharing a room but who wants to hear the inevitable through thin walls on the first weekend of meeting your sons possible future wife.

“thankyou” she mouthed quietly to you smiling at how gracious and kind you had been at trying to avoid an awkward situation on your first meeting. You smiled back and followed Kenny upstairs to your room for the next few days. It was a gorgeous guest room, you dropped your bags off and crossed the hall to see Kenny in his childhood room. It was painted blue and like you expected there where wrestling and hockey pictures and posters all over the walls. “cute,” you said smiling at him

“its changed a little but not much” he said smiling back “my mom painted but put all my pictures back up” he laughed.

“that’s sweet, she probably wanted it to be the same for when you got back” you said.

“not that I ever got the chance much” Kenny sadly replied.

“she understood why though” you mentioned reassuringly with your arm on his back.

“you know, I never thought id get a hot girl in my room” he said laughing

“you still wont” you said getting up to go downstairs “come on lets go hang out” you laughed Kenny following reluctantly.

 you spent the rest of the evening chilling out in the kitchen, drinking wine with his mum while him and his dad watched sports on tv. “I’m glad I got to meet you” his mum said to you smiling

“me too, I’m so glad to finally meet everyone and happy for Kenny to spend some family time at home, he’s always on the road I’ve told him he needs to make more of an effort” his mum appreciating your words.

“yeah but he’s busy doing what he loves, I would never tear him away from that” she said laughing at him and his dad.

A few hours later it was time to head to bed, his mum and dad had called it a night a few hours earlier but you and Kenny had stayed up to chill and watch a little tv together. “I’m heading up babe” you said pecking him on the cheek

“okay babe me too then” he said getting up to turn everything off  before following you upstairs

You waited for him at the top of the stairs, pulling him into a hug “guess ill see you in the morning” you teased

“unless you wanna sneak over in a little bit” he teased

“Kenny … no, I don’t want to disrespect your mom” you said back shrugging.

“okay okay, can I at least get a hand job in the bathroom” he laughed  

“goodnight Kenny” you said turning to walk away.

After completing your evening routine you settled down for the night, it was hard to drift off knowing your man was just over the hall, who you had been dying to touch since before the last time you had said goodbye all those weeks ago. Eventually your eyes began to feel heavy and just as you where settling in for the night your phone began to buzz, straight away you knew who it was. – im lonely- it read, you rolled your eyes, it was gonna be along night.

[lilxberry]

Can’t Quite Quit You - Chapter 1

Synopsis;

It appears that Mr Stark once had a Mrs Stark in his life that certainly wasn’t his mother. Tony and reader must work around their rocky path for the sake of the Avengers and the work the must focus on together once again.

Warnings: Language. Mentions of past relationship. That’s about it for this Chapter.

Words: 2,840

Pairing: Tony Stark x OC (past), James ‘Rhodey’ Rhodes x OC (platonic)

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(A/N: This is a separate series I will be working on. There will be confusing changes to the characters, original plots and relationships between people. For example;

Tony stark will have been previously married to OC

Morgan will be in existence at the age of 5 in this for a plot that will happen in future chapters

I have set direct ages for some characters like Tony and Rhodey which will respectively be 45 and 46

Tony and Rhodey will have met before they canonly met

Any further changes to things that I feel will need to be discussed, I’ll add them before the chapter begins in an authors note.)

(A/N 2: I will foreseeably not be posting on Thursdays and Fridays. I WILL continue to write during those days though ((if I do not have college work to complete during those nights)) and post them any other days of the week. Also, Chapter three of The Glitch should be up Saturday. Read chapter 2 here.)

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She took one last look around her home that was now vacant and clear of all her belonging, dark from the late hours of the night. Chloe sighed through her nose softly and lugged the last box in her arms through the threshold, closing and locking the door behind her, posting the key through the letterbox then proceeding to head to her car.

One Nick Fury had requested her scientific knowledge to be put to use helping the Avengers. It took a lot of persuasion on Fury’s and Rhodey’s part. Rhodey and Chloe are practically life-long friends with how close they once were, knowing each other for many years, still regularly keeping in touch. So, when Fury approached him about about recruiting her to the more scientific and engineering department of the Avengers, he had contacted her immediately in the hopes of convincing you to take up his offer.

She was renowned in her work as a scientist and robotic engineer, although, no one would truly know it’s her. She gave herself an alias, disliking the attention and wanting the focus to be purely on her work. 

Usually, Chloe wouldn’t need to be sweet talked into such an amazing opportunity but certain circumstances with a certain someone had left a bitter after-taste in her mouth and, if you hadn’t picked up on this yet, that certain someone is, let’s just say, closely involved with the Avengers.

We’ll get on to whom she refers to later.

Placing the last box into her Vauxhall Wagon, she climbed into the drivers seat and began her journey to compound, leaving behind her comfortable and solitary life where she focused solely on living and work. As she drove down the desolate dirt road, her eyes drifted to the rear view mirror, noting the stand alone house surrounded by fields upon fields, slowly fade away as she put distance between it and herself.

Her mind wandered as she travelled, wandering into crevasses she wished would not be explored, memories she thought she had locked away behind barriers and chains well enough.

Chloe thought of him, what his reaction will be when he sees her for the first time in 13 years. If he’s changed, if he thinks she’s changed which admittedly, she had. 

She knew what he looked like recently, of course she did, he was all over the fucking news. She couldn’t even open up Google on her laptop without his bloody face showing up but she hadn’t the slightest clue on what was going on in his life apart from being one of Earths mightiest heroes and quite frankly, she didn’t want to know either.

As she pulled up to a red light, she leaned back into her seat and closed her eyes as she exhaled loudly. A million scenarios passed through her head at how the interaction could play out. She knew things would be fine though, Rhodey would be by her side, a comforting presence helping her through the ordeal.

Her eyes were open once more as she watched the lights change. She turned her radio on, hopeful the loud 80′s rock blaring from the speakers would drown her thought out, remotely giving her a peaceful 10 hour drive.

“Fuck. Me.”

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After a gruelling 11 hours and 45 minutes drive, the compound came into view as she passed the trees surrounding the large, sleek building. Chloe noticed the many people training on the grounds, making the assumption that they were employees of S.H.I.E.L.D., agents training to maintain their fit-for-field-work physique.

As she closed in on the compound, she noticed three figures standing near the entrance. As her eyes adjusted, she was able to recognise Director Fury, whom she had seen through her laptop screen when they first made contact, and Captain America himself stood beside a woman she did not recognise.

Her car slowed to a stop, becoming still then silent as she killed the engine. She huffed out a breath as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, swinging her legs out first, happy to finally stretched her legs and exit the vehicle finally.

She breathed in a the fresh air as she stoop up, momentarily closing her eyes to give them a well deserved break, adding moisture back into her green orbs. She quickly recomposed herself and closed her door, rounding the car and taking a few small paces forwards to meet the trio.

“Doctor Miller. I’m glad you took me up on my offer.” Fury extended his arm towards the woman for a handshake which she shook with firmly with confidence. As he retracted his hand for hers and began to gesture to the two beside him. “This is Agent Maria Hill and I assume that you already know who this man is.” He gestured over towards the fellow brunette and the Nations favourite super soldier who both gave the woman a friendly smile.

“You assumed correctly.” She mused as she thrust her right hand towards each other them to shake as her left slides into her front pocket of her jeans. “It’s good to meet you both.”

Steve was the next to speak. “It’s good to meet you, too. A few of us have been informed of your work and I believe you’ll be a great addition to the team, working in the labs.” He sent you a charming smile. “I think you’ll fit in nicely with the others.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Chloe sent him a smile back. They noted the lack of shyness, she exudes confidence and is clearly prideful of the work she has put out into the world.

“We should introduce you to the rest of the team in the living area.” Maria speaks up, catching the attention of the other three. They nodded simultaneously in agreement. “If you hand me the keys to your car, we can collect your stuff and take them on to your floor. We’ll move your car into the a secluded area for safe keeping as well.”

Chloe nodded but spoke before handing her keys over. “Let me just quickly grab something and we can get moving, I guess.” Maria gave a curt nod of her head and Chloe walked back towards the Vauxhall. 

She opened up the front passengers side door and reached in to retrieve a box off of the passengers seat and her back pack from floor in front. Satisfied she’s grabbed everything of real personal value, she straightens herself out, closes the door with her hip and makes her way back over to the trio who was patiently waiting by the entrance.

She swiftly handed her keys over to the agent of three before following Fury and Steve through the doors and towards an elevator at one end of the large space.

“Would you like any help with that bo-”

“NO!” She cuts the captain off quickly, emphasising loudly. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Uhm, no, thank you. Sorry, the stuff in here is really important to me and I’d rather not put it into the large hands of a stranger, no offence.” She smiles up at the man bashfully. He smiles at her apologetically in return.

“No worries, sorry.”

As the elevator finally arrived, they stepped inside and rode up to the main communal floor all the Avengers use. The ride was relatively silent, until Fury spoke up. “Rhodes has been quite excited to see you, you know.”

She smiled at the mention of her friend. “I’ve been pretty excited to see him too. Not seeing him in person for 12 years is a pretty long time.” She chuckled at the thought.

Steve smiled as he watched the woman speak kind words about her friend, voicing how, after all this time, she would seemingly still be excited to see an old friend.

They fell back into a comfortable silence, listening to the hum of the elevator as it works to ascend pass multiple floors. A simple ‘Ding’ cut through the silent machinery and soon after the metallic doors slid open, reveal the mixed group of people as they turned their attention to the three now steeping out. 

The silence was daunting as the team watched them walk towards them. The silence was soon broken once again as Rhodey pushed passed the few stood in his way, a massive smile had broken on to his face. “Hey there, Pip.”

She grinned at the use of her childhood nickname. “Well, if it isn’t my favourite Lieutenant Colonel.” She sent him a playful wink as she placed her back pack and box gently on to the ground before surging forward, engulfing the man in a long awaited hug.

He immediately responded by wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders, closing his eyes to bask in the loving moment between friends for as long as time would allow him. “You’ve grown.” She mumbled.

“You’ve shrunk, short ass.” She pinched his back through his shirt and his chest vibrated as he laughed.

He leaned back, looking at how she’s aged well in person. A few frown lines are scattered across her forehead and dark bags from lack of sleep evident on face but he couldn’t help but notice that she still had that same beautiful, youthful features that remained from their 20′s.

A cough from behind Rhodes brought them out of their small reunion, forcing their attention on to the group awaiting anxiously for an introduction. “Oh shit, right. Avengers, this is Chloe Miller, Pip, these are the Avengers.”

They all flashed her a welcoming smile as she drank in all of their faces. 

‘Too many damn people. I’m not gonna get used to this quickly.’ Chloe thought to herself as she continued to study the heroes before her.

“Maybe we should actually start introductions instead of standing here looking like a bunch of mute dumbasses.” The man she recognises as Hawkeye spoke with a hint of sarcasm. “I’m Clint.”

He began to point at individuals as he recited their names to her. “That’s Natasha, Bucky and Sam. Over there we have Wanda, Vision and Thor. And finally, Carol, Stephen and Scott.”

“Lady Chloe, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Thor boomed as he quickly made his way over to her in just two large strides and proceeds to pat her shoulder.

“Yeah, nice to meet you too, Salt.” She winced slightly as she rolled the shoulder the God had previously touched with his large, powerful hands roughly, referencing the Angelina Jolie character with long, blonde hair.

“I apologize for my rough housing, lady Chloe.”

“All good, buddy.” She patted his arm to show there were no hard feelings between the two.

As it looked like Thor was to reply yet again, Steve decided to interject. “There’s a few more of us but they’re currently either out, busy in the labs or away for other matters, personal or other.”

“Cool.” She simply replied to the man. As formalities and introductions continued to be exchanged between the group she noticed a small girl peer from behind Scott, she appeared to be young, like 9 or 10.

The young girl wasn’t necessarily shy in any way, she just chosen to stay out of the way as the adults talked. Chloe tilted her head towards Rhodey who still stood beside her. “Didn’t realise you guys were a fucking day centre.” She joked quietly, causing the man to let out a chuckle at the crack.

“That’s Scott's kid, Cassie. It was Scott's weekend and she really wanted to stay at the compound. She’s a sweet kid.” Rhodey informed her. she nodded in acknowledgement before making the decision to take a step forward and lower herself down to the child's level.

“Hey there.” She smiled sweetly at the girl. “I heard that your name’s Cassie. I think that’s a super pretty name.” This caused the young girl to send a smile to the 43 year old and step closer.

“I think your name is pretty too.” Cassie spoke in a sweet voice, tone laced with a childlike chirpiness.  

“I think we’re gonna get along great, Cassie.” She stuck her hand out towards the girl to finalise their meeting. Cassie grasps Chloe’s hand into her small, dainty one and shook it lightly.

Chloe straightened herself out and sent one last smile towards the girl before stepping back to her original position next to Rhodey. The man smiled sadly as he watched her in the corner of his eye, a knowing look in his eye as he noticed the smile that didn’t quite match the solemn look in her eye as she continuously glances as Cassie.

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The group of people had migrated to the couches within the living space, continue to conversate with the newest addition to the building although, Scott had taken Cassie out to get food and have some daddy-daughter time.

As they continue to get to know each other, the elevator dinged once more, signifying the arrival of more people. Chloe peered over, seeing one Doctor Robert Bruce Banner, whom she was a big fan of, and a young male at his side. 

‘Seriously. How many kids do they let in here?’ 

“Ah, Bruce, Peter. We’d like to introduce you to Doctor Chloe Miller. She’ll be working in the labs with you and Stark.” Steve spoke to the two. Chloe stood up, ignoring the mention of Anthony and met them halfway, shaking Banner’s outstretched hand.

“Doctor Banner, it’s wonderful to meet you. I’ve read all your papers. Your thesis's are impressive, to say the least.” He smiled sheepishly at Chloe. She noted he was quite the humble man. 

“Thank you, Doctor. I look forward to working with you in the lab. Young Peter here works alongside us in the labs sometimes.” He directed her attention to the teenage boy that stood to his left.

“P-Parker Peter. I-uh-I mean, Peter Parker.” He wiped his hands on the front of his jeans before reaching to shake the woman’s, stumbling over his words. 

She chuckled at the young boys behaviour and sent him a comforting smile which seemed to have helped him significantly. “Don’t worry kid. It’s nice to meet you. You must have a bright mind to be working alongside Banner occasionally.”

He beamed at this as he flushes a light shade of pink at her compliment. “I mean, I’m okay, I guess.” She laughed at his also apparent humbleness.

“Sure, kid.” She patted his shoulder gently before moving to sit beside Rhodey again.

Bruce and Peter joined the others on the couches, sitting in any space that was available. As they settled into their seats, Natasha spoke out over the small murmurs between people. “Tony still in the lab?”

“Yeah, he should be up in a few minutes though.” Banner replied then looked over towards Chloe. “Doctor Miller, have you met Stark before?” He questioned.

Rhodey and Chloe shared a look, almost seemingly having a miniature conversation telepathically that didn’t go unnoticed by the group. “I guess you could say that I have.” 

Before the scientist could ask what she had meant by her statement, the elevator dinged once again, announcing a new arrival. “Why is everyone so damn quiet? Who fucking died guys?” He spoke as he walked further into the space, not looking up from the tablet his eyes were glued to.

Chloe didn’t even need to look to know it was him. His voice hadn’t altered that much over the years.

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed together when his question was met with silence. He tore his gaze away from tablet that displayed plans for one of his new suits and looked around at each person sat on the couches. He did a double-take when his eyes reached a a certain brunette from his past, a brunette he hadn’t seen in 13 years. 

“Chloe.” He breathed out, multiple emotions are on display in his eyes alone but the most noticeable of them all is shock which is etched across his face. 

She stood up straight, looking him directly in the eyes, her face stoic but voice laced with many emotions. “Stark.” She spoke with anger, malice in her tone. 

Tony quickly recomposed himself before draining his face of emotion to match Chloe’s. “Don’t say my name with so much hate, Pip. After all, it was yours as well at some point in time.”

Rhodey closed his eyes for a brief moment as he sighed softly before joining the pair in standing, staying close to Chloe as he knows he needs his support most right now.

The rest of the Avengers, excluding the pairs best friend, looks at them in confusion, unsure of the true meaning behind his statement. “What do you mean you used to share it?” Wanda spoke up, her accent thick and laced with curiosity.

Then suddenly, it’s as if the newly gained information and witnessing the interaction between the two had made something click, everyone’s features change as quickly as a flick of a switch. 

“No fucking way...”

“You guys are...”

“YOU GUYS ARE MARRIED?!”

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Something a bit different

Never done an OC before but I kinda liked how this turned out

I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and appreciated :D

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

You Slow It Down

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: M (Mature) Word Count: ~3.6K Notes: This is my Secret Santa gift to @sideeyedkinks for the @starkerfestivals fic exchange! I enjoyed making the prompt fit into the inner workings of my head and hope I did it justice!  Warnings: There be some NSFW stuff, but that’s about it!  Prompt: Tony fully expects that Peter, being a tech-y Gen Z, will prefer texting to phone calls. But whenever Peter initiates contact, it's a phone call. Summary:

Instead of continuing with his journey as Iron-Man, Tony Stark takes a couple of steps back in hopes of finding himself. After 5 years of living harmoniously with the world around him and the position he created for himself within the Avenger organization, Tony literally bumps into the start of the rest of his life. It's funny how life works - the best things always come when they're least expected.

Or, the one where Tony is obsessed with Christmas trees (& Peter Parker, too).

Read it on AO3 here. 

After the debacle with Killian and what felt like an ultimatum from Pepper, Tony took a huge step back from everything; his relationship and the Iron Man suit included. Of course, he didn’t pull his support away from Avenger business or leave them high and dry – consulting specifically with their tech and only their tech became his main gig. When the weight of the world was on his shoulders, sometimes his decision-making processes weren’t up to par – there were too many things that shadowed his vision; too many things that inhabited his head that the world shouldn’t see.

With every step away from the active duty stuff, the better things seemed to be. It started with sleep. Before, Tony would toss and turn; his head filled to the brim with ideas and visions – not so good times past. Little by little, Tony found himself sleeping through the night, his slumber the best he could remember in all of his grown-up years. And the lack of anxiety – Tony’s constant companion for so many years – it felt like a sweet release from the tomb he didn’t know he let himself fall into. Everyday things started to feel good again – including the work that he let himself drift from when he thought the world depended on him and him alone.

Before he knew it, five years were behind him – five years filled with successful technology advances, big rehabilitation in the city, and lots of actual enjoyment of his life. Tony allowed himself to actually get to know Happy; the man was a bundle of ideas, his take on security and the inner most running of Stark Industries both beneficial and fun to kick around when they found the time. Despite still having his toe in the world saving pool, Tony removed himself from it enough to make a place for his wants and needs that wasn’t riddled with grief and the terrifying idea of letting everyone down.

In his enjoyment, Tony found himself getting into the holiday spirit as the city turned from the hum-drum busy-ness to a gorgeous winter wonderland. In all the years of living in New York, the decorations never stood out; until he looked, of course – then, he couldn’t stand to look away.

Which is how he found himself standing in front of the lit-up tree at Rockefeller Center, the multicolored lights and unique ornaments covering the tree making his heart race, the feeling new each time he stood in front of the towering spruce. Tony was so wrapped up in the beauty before him that he didn’t realize he’d taken a few steps backward until he was full body colliding with what could only be another human being – his breath leaving him upon impact.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry – “ the lump of human murmured, his hands on Tony’s biceps before he could catch a look at his tackler turned savior.

Tony took a second to register a couple of things while the words sunk in – the first was that the body now pressed against his own was warm and what could only be described as firm. The second, and most important, was the way the other person’s hands felt in their grip against the upper part of his arm. Almost like he’d fallen asleep on the limbs, both arms were tingling, the place of contact on fire from the rightness of the touch. A shuddered breath left his lips before Tony could even think to respond.

“It was probably my fault. I’ve been staring at the fucking tree for who knows how long – I tend to wonder when I’m hyper focused like that.” Tony finally felt steady enough on his feet to take in the person standing in front of him smiling a gorgeously embarrassed grin.

“I was doing the same thing. Ever since I left for Cambridge, coming back and seeing the tree is more important than it used to be.” The man – the beautiful, young man stepped back then, his hand lingering on Tony’s arm for a second longer before dropping down into the space between them, a bigger grin on his face. “I can’t really say I’m mad about the collision, it kind of seems fated that we meet like this.” He stopped for a moment, taking more of Tony in – and then – “I’m Peter.”

Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth to stop the mega-watt smile from overtaking his face, Tony ducked his head and returned the handshake, his hand tingling all the while. “Maybe you’re right – you’re a fellow tree lover after all. I’m Tony – Tony Stark.” For a second, he held his breath, not sure what kind of reaction he was going to get from the handsome stranger.

As if reading his mind, Peter gave his hand a squeeze, cheeks blooming with a delightful red. “I know – I’m studying Engineering at MIT; you’re kind of a legend.”

A soft laugh left Tony’s lips at that, the breath he’d been holding slipping out with relief. Regardless of what the kid actually knew about him, Tony appreciated the tact – he felt his pride swell with the compliment. His time at MIT was treasured, despite what the rags told the public about it.

“An engineer, huh? How are the new labs? I heard they were starting to finally integrate the holoscreen technology.”

From there, the conversation just took off. Peter gushed about the leaps his research was taking now that the available technology was up to par. Despite being only 21, Peter was a semester from graduating – his hunger for achievement and knowledge apparent in every word out of his mouth. It was easy – talking to someone that showed genuine interest in all the pieces of Tony; not just the techy brilliance or his time in the suit. They walked around the tree a couple of times before making their way to a coffee shop where they occupied the table until very close to closing time.

His eyes still sparkling with the thrill of meeting someone he instantly liked, Tony bucked up some confidence and invited Peter back to the penthouse with him. “I know we just met, but I like you. Want to come back to my place?” Their bodies migrated closer and closer throughout the night, his hand finally wrapping around Peter’s as he spoke.

He felt a spark of hope slip down his spine when Peter shifted his hand just enough to tie their fingers together, the fit nice, just right down to the thread of the inside of each digit. Peter’s hand felt like it was on fire, the heat warming him up down to the very core.

“I think I’d like that,” Peter finally replied, his voice warm and a touch deeper, the idea obviously appealing to him in some fashion.

Tony didn’t give any opportunity for either of them to talk themselves out of it. He urged Peter up and to the curb with a squeeze on his hand, their steps steady as they navigated through the crowd on the sidewalk to where Tony parked his car – their hands only parting when Peter settled safely into the passenger seat.

Luckily, the drive back didn’t take long – the silence in the car was comfortable yet tinged with a sort of lust that encompassed everything. It felt good – to feel a nice kind of apprehension. There was a part of him that reveled at the novelty of the feeling. In all his years, Tony hadn’t felt anything like this – a burning desire that was consuming.

They didn’t let the dam break until the elevator dinged as they arrived in the foyer of Tony’s penthouse, the nearness to each other in the elevator car more than enough to sustain the need. And yet, the second the door opened, Peter’s arms were grabbing Tony’s hips, their lips sealing together without wasting a beat.

As quickly as possible when sealed from lip to toe, Tony steered them back towards his bedroom, the pair stopping every time a hard surface came into their periphery. Tony had to stop himself from letting Peter press him against the wall to take him right then and there. A gasp of success sounded when they finally tumbled into the bedroom, Tony breaking their connection to suck in a breath and do the dirty work of undressing.

Peter’s eyes watched him closely as he shrugged off his jacket, his scarf and hat hitting the floor with it. His fingers were cold, but still nimble enough to steadily undo the buttons of the warm flannel he put on in preparation of being out in the cold. His torso was completely bare by the time Peter blinked and started to disrobe himself.

Without much hesitation on either part, Tony and Peter met in the middle of the bed once the layers of clothing were coating the bedroom floor. Tony’s back pressed to against the mattress as Peter settled over him, the limbs that still spoke of youth covering him completely.

Long fingers ran through his graying hair, Peter’s eyes roaming over his face unblinkingly, as if trying to memorize his features. Tony let him have his fill as his own hands wandered over bare skin, the smoothness of it a perfect addition to the hard muscle residing just under the surface.

“You’re beautiful,” Peter mumbled, each word loud in the soft quiet surrounding them. His eyes were earnest, as if he needed Tony to know how real the words were. “You have the craziest eyes.”

Before Tony could even think to respond, Peter was in action – the quick shift in tone almost too much for the moment. Yet, Tony didn’t even want to stop the moan from slipping out of his lips when Peter let their groins settle together, the shift of their cocks together delicious in the ‘need more’ kind of way. Tony let his fingers grip Peter’s skin a little tighter, the thought of leaving a mark on him adding to it all.

The lack of shyness from the younger man didn’t surprise Tony one bit. The way he spoke of his interests told Tony that there was a deep passion residing in Peter’s belly – the extent of it translating to this aspect of his existence, too. Exploring lips made a trail from the side of Tony’s neck to the junction of his thigh before pressing against the warmth of his dick, making his entire body jump from each passing stimulus.

Tony was just cognizant enough to reach out behind him, his hand fumbling over the bedside table until he could grasp the drawer and pull out the necessary supplies. He thrust them in Peter’s direction his eyes lingering on the ceiling in hopes of not embarrassing himself by coming too soon. On top of the long stint between the last connection with another human being, Tony felt a fire that burned hot – hotter than ever before. There wouldn’t be much need to even touch him once Peter really got going.

The softness of Peter’s touch made it easy for Tony to forget the discomfort of being stretched open again, this particular act one he hadn’t partaken in for quite a while. The slick slide of too much lube and knowledgeable fingers made the usually awkward process an easy escape; nothing else existed but Peter, the weight of his body, and touch of his hands – a touch that felt like it was everywhere all at once.

His patience wearing thing, Tony let his hand drift to Peter’s shoulder, his fingers pressing desperately into his skin. “I’m ready. Please – you need to fuck me.”

The breathiness of his voice usually would’ve caused a surge of anxiety, but the look on Peter’s face at the words didn’t allow any negative feeling to sink in. His stomach tightened as a beaming smile answered him – Peter shifted with an energy that spoke of excitement and anticipation, both feelings that Tony didn’t realize could be so damn enjoyable.

Peter gripped the back of his thigh tightly with his free hand as the other shifted a now condom covered cock, the length glistening with the sheen of lube in the small amount of lamplight. Tony forced himself to relax with every inch that Peter pressed inside of him – the feeling of being stretched by someone that touched more than just his physical body overwhelming; their connection ran deep, Tony could feel it even after such a short time together.

The luscious feeling of Peter bottoming out pulled a moan from Tony’s chest, his hands shifting in an attempt to pull the other’s weight over top of him. Getting the hint, Peter prompted Tony to wrap his legs around his waist, then let his upper body fall forward, his arms cradling Tony’s head, the ripple of his firm stomach brushing against an already leaky dick between them.

With the shift in position, Peter slipped even deeper, the head of his cock pressing smoothly against Tony’s prostate without even a single move of either of their hips. His eyes glazed over; the fingers now buried in Peter’s hair gripping in an attempt to stay in the moment.

“You feel amazing. The sort of full that shouldn’t be possible,” Tony mumbled through a few panted breaths, his stomach and lower half finally relaxing to a point where Peter felt like he could move. Slim hips shifted, the swivel of them driving the contact with his prostate a few ticks further up the pleasure meter.

Their lips were once against sealed together as Peter started to set a solid rhythm, the push and pull between them in sync, their bodies moving in a way that was too easy to bring the end rushing towards them both before either of them were ready. Tony clung to every one of Peter’s movements, the long muscles shifting under his hands, the warm skin covered in sweat to the point where their movements were so easy because of it.

The friction of the slick slide of the skin of Peter’s stomach against his erection with every thrust pulled Tony’s orgasm from him, the feeling of it suddenly hitting him a surprise in its own right. The tightening of his ass around Peter’s length inside him was enough to pull the other over the edge with him, Tony feeling the stuttering thrust just seconds after his stomach tightened and the world shattered for a few blissful moments.

Burying his face in Tony’s neck, Peter let his breath brush against the skin there, the comedown between them just as sweet as the raucous coupling moments earlier. Tony held him closely, the ache in his legs from sustaining the same position not enough to override the utter bliss of a good orgasm and a gorgeous man pressed against him.

----

For the remainder of the days between their meeting and Christmas, Tony and Peter stayed wrapped up in each other. They shared a multitude of takeaway, lots of sex, and time in the lab that Tony introduced Peter to when he finally felt like it was right to get out of bed; it’d been a long time since an attractive and totally youthful person shared the luxury of his Egyptian cotton sheets.

It was easy to pass the holiday with Peter where they snuggled by the fire with the tall tree in their view. They exchanged last minute gifts in the form of physical contact and time spent together – both figuring out just how enjoyable it could be to have a person around that just seemed to get it.

Tony wanted the time to stop so he could keep Peter forever, but it flew by them instead; before he was ready, they were heading into the last day of the younger man’s break. In their isolated time spent together, it was easy to forget that each had lives existing outside the creature comforts of his penthouse and the small bodega across the street. The last few hours before Peter was meant to be on the train back to Cambridge were agonizing, both anticipating the distance already, despite the physical need to rotate within each other’s orbit at all times.

“It’s not goodbye, Tony,” Peter mumbled into Tony’s stubbled neck, his lips caressing the skin there.

His fingers were toying with the small hairs at the back of Tony’s head, the soft comfort of the touch enough to keep him from being too sad about the situation. Leaning into the touch, Tony nodded, his nose brushing against the swell of Peter’s cheek.

“I know – I’m just going to miss you. I probably won’t catch a break until you’re due back for spring break, so I’m trying to soak you in before I don’t see you for a while.” Tony punctuated the words by breathing in a deep breath, his chest tight with the long drawn in pull of oxygen.

Peter pulled him into a swift hug before either of them could say anything else. They already talked about the end of the semester, the time where Tony could actually have Peter to himself without disrupting both of their lives. The promise of more was tantalizing, more than enough to get him through, but a tease all the same. Tony returned the embrace, his fingers digging into the jacket Peter nabbed from his closet.

They shared a brief kiss before separating completely, Tony flashing him a soft smile. “Go – you’ll miss your train if I let myself keep you here any longer.” Tony brushed his fingers over Peter’s cheek, the touch more than enough to say the words he couldn’t get out. “Let me know when you get in.”

There wasn’t any hesitation in Peter’s movements as he got out of the car, his eyes catching Tony’s as he turned back briefly, the obvious need to completely turn around apparent in every minute movement. He shot a quick wave over his shoulder, Tony grinning before returning the gesture.

Getting home from the train station, Tony let himself get lost in his work, the hope of distracting himself from Peter’s absence obvious in the way he tried to bury his being completely. He must’ve been successful because the next conscious thought he could recall came from the ringing of his phone, the cheesy ringtone he set for Peter’s calls sounding around the lab. Quirking a brow, Tony wondered about the phone call – most people Peter’s age were all about texting. He expected to have most of their conversations over the easy to send messages.

Unable to suppress a smile, Tony swiped his finger across the phone to answer the call, his tone rich with the affection he felt. “I take it you made it in okay?” Tony questioned in a way of greeting, the awkwardness he usually felt over the phone vanishing.

Peter laughed, the sound settling low in Tony’s belly. He missed the heck out of everything about him already; the thought making his gut clench.

“I did – I slept the entire way on the train; I was home before I could blink, it felt like.”

And so, things went – Tony worked on the tech on his to-do list in between phone calls with Peter when his boyfriend had a spare minute between all of the crazy academic things he was currently pursuing. When the ringtone for a call came in, Tony let a small smile slip across his lips ��� every time the action surprising him. He didn’t know if it was just Peter, the man unique in his own right, or if it was a necessity now that they knew and understood the connection between them. Tony liked the sound of Peter’s voice and hoped the feeling was mutual.

When they were finally able to meet for spring break, it was like no time at all had passed between them. There wasn’t much better than seeing each other in person, but the familiar pitch and sound of Peter’s voice felt like a constant companion – enough of a connection to feel like they weren’t so far apart, after all.

And when the time came for Peter to come back home for real, Tony waited impatiently for the phone to ring, his being totally in tuned with the shrill sound of the ringtone that was now so damn familiar. He felt his face splitting into a wide grin when it eventually did go off, his body already in motion – this was the last time he needed to go to the train station to pick his best friend up.

The words “turn around” stopped him dead in his tracks, the echo of them making him look up, his limbs moving before Tony even knew what he was doing.

Peter stood there with the phone pressed against his cheek, the key Tony gave him during his last trip dangling from the other hand. Without a second thought, Peter hung up the phone, the thing falling from his hands with the force in which he moved across the room towards Tony.

Long arms were pulling him into a hug within seconds, Peter’s hands digging under Tony’s shirt without any further preamble. Returning the hug, Tony let himself bury his nose in Peter’s neck, his smile tickling the fine hairs there.

“Welcome home, Petey.”

[goldenponcho]

A Cruise Fit for a King Chapter 2

Chapter 2 of my Scarlemagne fic. 

Next Chapter | Chapter 1

“Ya see anything, Jamack?!”

The amphibian sighed with a shake of his head, “I really hate to say it, kid, but there’s no matching a frog’s eyes to a jaguar’s. If you’re not seeing anything, there’s no way I am.”

Kipo snarled, resisting the urge to go full mute, and taking the reigns, guided their dragonfly down to the ship below. They were still a good twenty feet above the deck when she dismounted, landing on four paws before completely demuting.

 “This makes no sense! I know Scarlemagne’s still out there; there’s no way he could have drifted this far already!”

 Wolf leapt onto the boat from the waves below as the narwhal she had been riding dove down to patrol the ocean floor for the twelfth time that day.

 “Anything?”

 Wolf glanced from beneath curly hair with a slow shake of her head.

 Kipo exhaled unsteadily, and sunk to sit on the step behind her, “This can’t be right!”

 Her gaze drifted over her friends, Benson and Dave’s usually happy, encouraging faces awash with hopelessness, Wolf’s determined eyes now avoiding her’s. Her parents, both with tears already welling in their eyes.

 “He can’t have…” Kipo pressed the heel of her palm to her eye.

 Song sat next to her daughter followed by Lio, each embracing her from either side.

 “Scarlemagne is still out there, mom! I know he’s still out there all alone AGAIN, and I can’t help him!”

 “I know, honey. I know,” she brushed the hair from Kipo’s eyes, “We’re not gonna give up yet. We promise.”

 “That’s right,” Lio gave his daughter’s shoulder a squeeze, “He IS family. If he’s out there, we’ll find him.”

 ~*~*~*~

 Hugo had managed to wedge himself into the floor of the back seat, both front seats leaned back and his star blanket draped between them to shade himself from the blistering heat. He had been adrift for three days now, and while he was aware that a mandrill could go quite some time without food or water, the lavish lifestyle he had previously treated himself to certainly didn’t make the drastic shift any more pleasant, even after months of living in a cage.

 He had pried a cup holder lining from the center console to set out in case it happened to rain, but ocean water, he quickly found, would not be an option. He couldn’t even be comforted by the playing of his piano. The pressing of a key resulted in a dull, stunted DONK, hardly a sound suitable for his usual concertos.

 Hugo shuddered with a groan, holding his aching, growling stomach, then sighed dramatically, “Is this really how the great Scarlemagne is to exit this life? At least being left to be cast in molten gold would have been more dignified.”

 The thought had crossed his mind to make a meal of his dear, deceased pet, but he found himself unable to bring himself to it. The opportunity was long past for that he was sure, sitting out to bake in the sun for three days would not have done nice things to the flesh left behind.

 Whether it was the hunger, the heat, or the boredom, Hugo burst from beneath the seats, sending them forward into the piano with a loud BA-TWANG as he leapt onto the backs of them. “If I don’t get some form of sustenance RIGHT-NOW, a am going to LOSE MY-”

 He was cut off by a splash from just in front of him, and he jolted back to some semblance of sane thinking to peer into the water. Nibbling at the damp feathers of his flamingo were many decently sized fish. Koi, by the looks of them, each with two dorsal fins, six pectorals, and eyes lining all the way down each side.

 Hugo raised a brow, “Did I just accidentally pray?” he shrugged with a mumble, “Well I suppose I see why the ancient humans did it so much, it’s quite cathartic…”

 He was about to grab for one before he halted. Even his former self, bent on absolute authority over both mute and human kind would never have considered devouring a sentient mute. And now, even a creature with similar intelligence to Mondu felt like pushing it. So peaking over the windshield, he cleared his throat.

 “Excuse me! You fishes there!” he cupped his hands around his mouth, “CAN YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!!”

 Seeing the lack of reaction, he began cautiously making his way over the windshield, “Ok…last opportunity to speak up!”

 A couple darted around at the vibrations of him having shaken the floating vehicle, but they quickly came to settle again to nibble on the carcass before them.

 Hugo gritted his teeth, “Well…nothing ventured, nothing gained, I suppose…” he loomed above the feeding school, wriggling fingers above them and locking eyes on one to snatch up as quickly as possible.

 “AHAH!!”

 He had been so intent on lashing out with as much speed as possible, he hadn’t thought about keeping his balance, and before he knew it, he was underwater, salt stinging both nose and eyes.

 “ACH! BLECH!! PFF!!” he sputtered, as he reached the surface of the water, shaking his mane with a fit of coughing.

 Eyes and nose burning, he made to swim toward the car before he felt a sharp pinch at his side and shrieked. Then another at his ankle, then another at the back of his neck, and soon he was surrounded by tiny biting mouths.

 “ACH! Cut that OUT!!,” he scrambled to escape the nibble attack he had found himself under, and eventually, he managed to haul himself back into the cab.

 He quickly found that rubbing his eyes made the stinging worse, so he settled on fluttering them in an attempt to rid them of the salt. As the burning began to subside, and he could open his eyes properly, he glanced at his foot.

 “Oh! It seems someone was a bit of an eager beaver!” He reached to remove the flopping fish that had a grip of the pointed heal of his shoe, and held it up to face level. “Alright, flopsy, one last chance to beg for your life!”

 He was answered with yet a second face full of seawater as the little fish unleashed a stream from its mouth with an impressive amount of force. With an insulted gasp, Hugo shook the fish spittle from his person before baring his teeth over his prey with a snarl to take a bite. But before fangs could make contact with scales, a piercing scream sent daggers through his eardrums, and he dropped his prey to cover them.

 The fish flopped erratically in the passengers seat before falling to the floor, all the while emitting the high pitched squeal, and soon, the surrounding fish had joined in.

 “RRRGH!” Hugo grabbed the slippery nuisance by the tail and raised it over his head, “SHUT! UP!”

 He reared back to throw it, but was nearly knocked off his feet as something massive jostled the car. He caught himself against the door, losing the little fish over the side. As he followed his retreating prey with his eyes, he noticed that the water in the distance seemed unusually dark, and it only took a second after that dark water had started to draw closer for him to realize that these tiny fish weren’t his only company.

 Two tall, orange and white dorsal fins cut through the waves, rushing his way at ramming speed.

 “NononoNONOO!!” Hugo hunkered down in the floorboards just as the biggest koi fish he had ever seen in his life leapt over him, a row of black eyes along its side staring him down as it passed over him.

 “Oh, dear,” was all he could squeak out before finally regaining use of his legs and scrambling to find something to defend himself with. He opened the glovebox only for a pile of pink, flamingo shaped air fresheners to spill out over the floor.

 “Well, now I know where those went…”

 He jerked his head around as the multi-eyed creature turned back his way with a screech he could swear caused him to temporarily lose hearing in his left ear, and with eyes darting back to scan for a weapon, his gaze landed on the gear shift. Grabbing it, he braced a foot against the dash and pulled with all his strength. From the corner of his eye, he could see the orange fins of the mega koi slice through the surface, and pink sweat poured from the struggling mandrill’s forehead.

 “OOOOOOO!!!!” He braced for impact, then felt himself topple backwards as the metal bar ripped from its socket. When his back hit the back seat, he was face to gleaming, black eye with the mega koi.

 The gargantuan fish wriggled it’s head closer, toothless jaw snapping in an attempt to snap him up whole, and Hugo shuffled to reach for the broken lever at his side.

 “I suppose you would be dear ol’ mum, then…” He gripped his weapon tight. He only had one shot.

 The gapping maw opened once. Twice. And on the third opening, Hugo shoved the jagged metal bar into the roof of its mouth. His ears rang at the roaring shriek that assaulted his ears again, and he attempted to move along with the thrashing head as it clamped onto his arm, threatening to snap it.

 It took only seven seconds for the monstrous creature to go limp, but it seemed a lot longer when one’s arm was trapped in a large fish’s mouth. Hugo pried the heavy jaws open and freed his now saliva covered arm with a grimace, dislodging his makeshift weapon.

 “My sincerest apologies, mumsy, but if anyone will be eating today, it’s going to be me.”

 He stood in the seat, a little wobbly at first, and examined his quarry. This would last him a good while if he could preserve the meat well. Perhaps the dash would get hot enough to cook some. But he wasn’t about to wait for that now.

 “Ugh…the smell of the sea really does revolt me…” he glanced down at the gear shift, and wiped it with his sleeve, “…but I’m afraid it’s going to be mega koi tartare for maaany meals to come…”

[harringtonheartache]

Daybreak | Part Three

Part Four

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?

Summary: Part three of this fic. Steve and 009 go to the store.

Word Count: 2,800+

Warning(s): Cussing

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my inability to chose a gif for the fic introduction in a reasonable amount of time. 

Mrs. Harrington was now the only being in the way of the two and their trip to the store. “I’ll go downstairs first and see where my mom is. When I wave you downstairs, we’ll make our exit.” Steve presented her with her second escape plan. She gave him an “okay”, assurance that she understood. He walked to his bedroom door, almost tiptoeing as if it were necessary. Opening the door, he looked into the hallway before swinging it open completely. A signal for her to follow, and she stepped outside of his bedroom for the first time that day. He had given her a pair of sneakers from his personal wardrobe, and because their large size was sure to cause her steps to be loud as her feet clunked around in them, she held the two shoes in her right hand; to be put on when they were safely outside. Still taking up the lead, Steve declined down the stairs as Nine waited at the top. She stood behind the wall, stealing peaks down below with her hands placed carefully on the wood of the staircase railing. 

“Mom?” Steve called out, and Nine watched as he did. “Yes?” the faceless voice stayed faceless. She was in her bedroom, a room that thankfully resided downstairs, away from Steve’s. “I am going to run to the store for some things for my project. I’ll be back in a bit,” he said to her. She granted her permission (as if he really needed it) without even leaving her room. A conversation between two, conducted without one instance of eye-contact. Turning away from where the sound of his mother’s voice had faded, he motioned to the girl waiting at the top of the stairs. She walked carefully, tip-toeing as Steve had done earlier, and met him in the living room. He thought of offering her a hand to lead her from his house, but decided against pushing his luck with physical touch. Getting thrown against the wall was forgivable, but only with no one else in the house to draw to the scene. Instead he lead her with his own actions, and they made a swift breakout through the front door.

Back in his car, the seats had dried since the previous night. She sat in the passenger's seat like she had before, and he let out a laugh as he took his spot in the driver’s. The sound caused a smile to spread to her own face. “Are you ready to see Hawkins?” he asked. Hawkins, Indiana. A place she had lived her whole life but never seen. A laugh, a grin, and a nod. His hand dug into the cup holder before he even went for the steering wheel. He offered her the sunglasses he had previously promised would be a part of her two-piece disguise. “Here,” he told her. Taking them from his hold, she opened the pair of glasses and placed them on her face. A pair of black sunglasses: another simple item with a grand task. The windows were rolled down a bit as he drove, and the wind that hit her face felt different than the wind she felt while she was running. This one came with a sense of calm, not one of increasing distress.

He turned on music as they drove through town, a funky song belonging to one of the bands she had read on his stack of tapes earlier now playing, audible but not too loud through the speakers. From the passenger’s seat, her eyes that hid behind black frames drifted to the driver. He seemed at ease (greatly different from this morning), one of his hands resting on the steering wheel and the other on his leg. They were not driving that fast, but his hair still wavered in the wind that entered the car through the half-way-down window. “So?” he asked her. He turned his head, his eyes leaving the road to steal a look at her for a moment. “What?” she responded. “What do you think of Hawkins? Is it everything you dreamed?” he spoke with a lighthearted tone. She paused before speaking, unsure of how to answer his question. “It’s nice,” she said. He chuckled a little at her response, looking at her with eyebrows raised. A pink blush spread over her face, slight embarrassment felt in her chest. “I don’t know, I don’t really have anything to compare it to,” she told him with a shy smile. “Well I’m glad you can appreciate its simplicity,” he said in response, the two grinning at one another. 

Steve pulled the car into the parking lot of a quiet storefront. He had chosen a small shopping location, as not to bring undesired attention or create an overwhelming environment for Nine. The car stopped and the windows rolled up. “Are you ready?” he said to her, looking over at her disguise as he removed the car keys from the ignition. “Yes,” she said, her tone confident. “Okay,” he smiled at her, “let’s go”. They exited his car and he locked it. Walking up to the store’s entrance, the doors opened automatically. This lightly startling the girl, but she tried not to let it show. A cheery bell rang, announcing their entrance, and she did not appreciate this feature either. She almost forgot about it once she was inside, however. The store’s body was filled with isles of colorful products, and the walls were lined with neon signs spelling out what was on display in a particular section. A few people walked the establishment - she counted five so far - but zero of them bothered themselves to look at her or Steve. At some point during her observation, she had removed the sunglasses he had given her so that she could see better. She couldn’t help it.

“You okay?” a voice broke her from her momentary trance. Her eyes redirected themselves to Steve. He worried that he had thrown her into something she wasn't ready for yet. “Yeah,” she said, a close-mouthed smile from her calming his concern. “Come on, let’s buy you whatever you want,” he said through his own grin. He took a shopping cart from the slightly disheveled corral, pushing it in front of himself while he lead her in an uncalculated direction. “I’m thinking we start with snacks,” he said.

“Snacks?”

“Yeah, if you’re going to be hanging out in my room all day I’d think you would want some other food to eat besides my peanut butter sandwiches. I mean, not to belittle my cooking,” he said, turning to her from his forward-facing stride down an isle. He had a charm about him, no matter how ridiculous whatever he spoke was. 

Finding the food rather easily despite his lack of experience in shopping, Steve began picking items off the shelf. Packages like Keebler Magic Middles and Mister Salty Pretzel Twists landing on top of one another at the bottom of the cart. Nine simply watched as he chose his own favorites for her, unfamiliar snacks he told her she had to try plucked from the shelves as he pushed the cart down the isle. He grabbed some water bottles too, the first true necessity chosen. 

Having exhausted the food selection, their eyes searched the hanging signs until Steve read the word Women’s written out in a cursive font. “Here, follow me,” he said, taking up the lead again. They entered the desired isle, finding products painted with colors of pink, the color her face had been earlier. They landed in front of a display of deodorants specifically marketed towards women. “Which scent?” he asked her. She shrugged her shoulders, eyes traveling along the line of products labeled with floral and fruity smells. Steve picked a random one from the shelf. He took the lid from the top and inhaled. He then held it out for Nine to smell, giving her a questioning look. She inhaled too, following his actions. A look of displeasure displayed across her face and she shook her head. He smiled down at her, amused with her reaction. He put it back and took another, this one with an array of fruits pictured on the sticker. They both smelled it, gagging slightly when they took too sharp of an inhale. This evolved into laughter. It went on for a number of scents, and they laughed at one another’s expressive faces as they took turns offering the other a new stick. Perhaps laughing too loudly for a general store, but enjoying themselves thoroughly. 

She would raise her eyebrows as she held out the fifth deodorant chosen from the shelf, and he would do the same before his exaggerated reaction would send her into a fit of giggles and he would join her. After going through almost all of the options, they settled on one that Steve had in hand. He turned to toss it with the rest of their groceries. “Back the cart up a little,” he told Nine before he did. She complied, giving him a puzzled look as she took the handle and pulled it backwards. His hands shot up above his head, and he threw the small stick of deodorant as one would a basketball. It landed perfectly in the cart. “One point!” he sang. She laughed, the look of bewilderment still strong on her face but not in an unhappy manner. “Here, you try,” he said, picking up a toothbrush and tossing it gently to her from his side of the isle. She caught it, smiling as she pushed the cart closer towards him with her foot and took a few steps back. She raised her hands, carefully letting go of the item and watching it land in the cart with a mild rattle. She chuckled as he cheered. “Whoo! One to one!” he exclaimed.

This game continued too. It turned into a competition, and soon they were throwing items they didn’t even need into the cart just to one-up the other. They both had missed once by now. “Okay, next point wins!” said Steve, grabbing a bar of soap and backing up a few more paces. “And you have to make it from outside the isle!” he declared. She grabbed a miscellaneous item similar in shape and backed up opposite of him. They now stood on either end of the isle, facing the cart in the middle. “One,” they readied their hands. “Two,” they looked up, smiling, to meet the other’s eye. “Three!” The items flew through the air, one landing with a small crash on the floor after bouncing off the side of the cart. “No!” Steve sang, his poor throw costing him the game. Nine watched him as he cried out, not cocky enough to boast in her own victory but enough so to laugh at his dramatic nature. “I guess you win,” he told her as he moved to pick up his bar of soap from the floor, giving her a smirk and an eye-roll that mimicked a false sulkiness. 

---

After scanning the items they decided upon through self-checkout (paying for said items with Steve’s father’s credit card) they left as they had entered - through the automatic sliding doors. This time they did not startle her, and she didn’t bother returning the black shades to her face. He popped the trunk and she placed her handful of bags inside first. Looking up and turning around to face the storefront, she started counting people again. One, two, three, four large men.

She grabbed for Steve’s arm that placed the last bag in the car. Her grip caused him to turn, looking at her now with that same look of bewilderment she had expressed earlier; he hadn’t quite caught on that a serious matter was taking place. “Steve,” she started, her gaze dashing around the parking lot as she spoke to him. She was counting the number of threats. “Men from the lab,” she told him, finally letting herself look to Steve, and she watched his face shift and his eyes grow wide. One particularly sizable man who was walking with a quick stride towards the two from the right was only a few steps away from being able to grab Nine (or Steve if he wanted to, but she knew that she was their target). She released Steve’s arm and instead lifted her own to raise a hand out in front of her. At this point, Steve’s panic had risen to it’s pull potential, and he slammed the trunk of his car and looked to Nine. “Come on, let’s go!” he told her, wanting to avoid confrontation all together and make a speedy getaway in his car. He spoke in a low tone, as if his soft voice would keep the forthcoming danger from noticing them. 

She threw the impending man as easily as she had tossed the toothbrush into the shopping cart earlier. She did such a thing without touching him too, which is why the lack of store-goers in the parking lot was a relief. He landed a few feet shy of a car, and Nine did not even lower her hand before turning to threat number two. He was too close for comfort, and it landed him a couple of feet away on the pavement, not too far from his friend who suffered the same fate at the hands of the powerful girl. Two grown men thrown like frisbees, and Steve was still in full panic. “N-Nine let’s go!” he told her again, his face stronger in emotion than his voice was in strength. It faltered as he spoke up this time. This being the second time he advised they make an exit, she looked to him and decided that he was right. There were two more men, but they stood still now, fearful. The two dashed from the back of the car to their reserved seats, but Steve only got so far as his hand on the handle of the door before a third man revealed himself by grabbing him by the shoulder. 

Nine was given more time, and had even gotten her car door open before realizing the third threat than now preyed on Steve. One firm hand on his shoulder was all he was able to accomplish before her hand flew up in front of her again. This time she lifted him in the air, moving him further away from Steve before sending him backwards. His back was met forcibly with a car belonging to some unfortunate store customer. It was sure to leave a dent. Steve, who had turned to watch the man plummet through the air now turned back to look at Nine. “Holy shit!” he couldn’t keep himself from saying to her. She simply looked to him, slightly aghast herself, and continued her retreat to the car.

Steve backed the vehicle up with such haste, noting that although he probably should have taken a more thorough look out the rear-view window before doing so, there was no time. He violently exited the parking lot, his hands steering the wheel with sharp movements and tossing his passenger around in her seat. His car tires screeched during their departure, just as they had the night prior when he saved himself from hitting the girl who stood in the middle of the road. It was only when they were a good ways down the road and away from the lot when either one of them allowed themselves to breathe. Steve’s quick pants turned into laughter, and Nine looked at him with valid confusion. “Holy shit!” he repeated what he had said to her earlier. His eyes stole a glance at her, abandoning the road for a moment, and it was only when they made eye contact that his wide smile caused her to laugh too. 

“That was terrifying, but you totally fucking saved us! It was amazing!” Praise for using her ability. It was something she was familiar with, but it tasted different this time. It didn’t feel sinister. It wasn’t greedy, it was pure praise. It made her laugh even more. A trail of blood, unnoticed by her, began it’s path from her nose. Still looking to her every few seconds, Steve did notice it. “You’re bleeding, are you okay? They- they didn’t even touch you why are you bleeding?” Almost feeling a ping of shame, she quickly wiped her nose with the backside of her hand. “It happens,” she said, “when I use my power”. Unphased, he smiled a dorky smile at her again. “That was so fucking amazing,” he said. Her expression mirrored his own, and they took a turn a little too sharply down a road of Hawkins. Her shoulder hit the car’s side from his excited driving, but she did not care as they laughed along with one another. 

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

Tags: @ggclarissa

[sevenseasofbangtan]

Bts reaction: How you met (non-idol version)

Kim Seokjin (Jin)

It was an icy winter morning and Seokjin was stuck at the grocery store, looking for the ingredients to his mom’s favourite recipe. It was his mom’s birthday and he had invited his parents over for dinner. As he was heading towards his car, he saw a young woman struggling to carry her numerous grocery bags in her hands.

You had decided to go to the grocery store without your car, thinking the fresh air would do you good. However, you soon realized how much of a mistake that was, as the freezing wind hit your uncovered cheeks, sending chills through your whole body. Being already near the grocery store, you ignored the shivers going down your spine and continued making your way to the large building. You gradually warmed up once inside, but the low temperature hit you even harder once you got out. You also realized you’d clearly never be able to carry all of these bags by yourself, but you despised asking for help, so you forced yourself out of the store, back in the cold.

You were halfway through the parking lot when you heard a sweet voice calling, “Miss! Miss!” After taking a glance at your surroundings and not seeing anyone else near, you assumed you were the one being called. Of course, no one else would have been stupid enough to come here without their car at such a temperature. You turned around and noticed a tall man walking towards you, a single grocery bag in his hand. Once he caught up to you, seeing the questioning look on your face, he stated, “You shouldn’t carry this much in your hands, let me help you. I’ll carry these bags to your car. Where’s your car?” You smiled shyly, looking at the ground, knowing he would probably think you were out of your mind once hearing your answer. As soon as you answered, the man nodded and replied, “Oh well then I’ll carry these bags to my car and I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.” You couldn’t accept this offer and let a complete stranger waste his time because of your own bad decision. “No, thanks, I’m fine! No need to waste your time for me. I’ll take this as a lesson to use my car next time,” you answered. You obviously didn’t know Seokjin. His helpful nature made it impossible for him not to help someone every time he had the opportunity to do so. He insisted so much that you somehow felt embarrassed declining his offer once again and you had no other choice than to accept his help. You sat in his car after dropping all the bags in the backseat.

The ride was done in a comfortable silence, only being broken when he asked you where you lived. As you watched the landscape pass by, you slowly started drifting off into a peaceful slumber without even realizing it, your body being exhausted from trying to keep you warm the whole time you spent outside. Seokjin smiled softly, realizing his passenger was asleep and turned off the music that was playing to allow you to continue sleeping until you got home. He followed the instructions his phone’s GPS gave him and eventually pulled up in the parking lot of your apartment building.

You woke up by a strong arm gently shaking your shoulder and it took a few seconds for you to remember everything that had happened previously and to understand why a stranger was shaking you awake. Once you realized you had actually fallen asleep in Seokjin‘s car, you instantly began to panic, feeling extremely embarrassed for having fallen asleep in the nice stranger’s car, letting him drive you home without any help. You feared him thinking you were impolite and quickly started apologizing, to which he laughed a little, replying, “Don’t get so worked up, I understood you maybe lacked of sleep, so I purposely let you sleep. If you fell asleep, you probably had a good reason to and it didn’t bother me at all. Come on, now we have to bring your grocery bags up to your apartment.” You insisted in saying you could carry them by yourself and that he had already done enough for you, but he disagreed, already holding three bags in his hands.

Once the two of you were done brining all the bags into your apartment, you thanked him and commented, “You’ve helped me out today. I wanna repay you, but I don’t know how...” Seokjin smiled widely, responding, “It was my pleasure. No need to repay me, I simply wanted to help. Now I have to leave, but maybe we’ll see each other again soon, since I don’t live that far from here! Have a nice day!” He didn’t let you contest his answer and immediately headed out the door. As he was walking down the stairs, you suddenly realized you had forgotten to ask for his name. You ran out of your apartment and questioned a little too loudly, “Hey! I forgot to ask you: what’s your name?” He looked back at you and replied, “Kim Seokjin. How about you?” “Y/n Y/l/n.”

Min Yoongi (Suga)

When moving to Seoul, you had a hard time making friends. Everything was so different from your home country. You weren’t that much of a sociable person to begin with, but the fact that you didn’t speak much Korean made it even harder for you to meet new people. When you finally made friends with someone, it felt like a relief. That girl was sweet and completely open-minded, which made it easier for you to communicate with her. However, she was way more athletic than you were and often dragged you along with her on her sports activities.

That was why you were now out in Seoul, in a neighbourhood you barely knew, running shoes tied to your feet. Your friend had decided to bring you jogging with her, in an attempt to get you to exercise. You had been running for a few minutes, when you both came across a pretty steep hill. You were halfway down the hill when your right foot caught onto something and twisted, making you trip in the process.

Your friend turned around and saw you lying on the ground, a dumbfounded expression on your face. She quickly ran to you and held out her hand to help you up. “You okay?” your friend questioned, concern written all over her face. You thought you were doing fine, until you applied weight on your right foot. As soon as you stepped on it, you felt a stabbing pain run through your ankle and couldn’t help but wince at the uncomfortable sensation. However, you did not like asking for help and having people babying you, so you took a deep breath, before claiming in a not-so-convincing tone, “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just a little shaken up, that’s all...” “Are you sure?” she asked, clearly not convinced by the look on your face. You faked a smile, responding in a tone you hoped was more convincing, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing!” she shrugs, not asking further questions. You carry on with your jogging session, ignoring your ankle’s pleas for you to stop.

As you came back to the spot where you had initially met up about thirty minutes ago, you couldn’t run anymore. You passed it off as exhaustion, so your friend wouldn’t worry about your ankle’s state. You were far from being fine, but you were way too stubborn to admit it out loud. You had to go back to your apartment by foot, seeing as you didn’t have a car yet, but you convinced your friend you could walk just fine.

As soon as you and your friend parted ways, you began heading back towards your apartment, silently cursing yourself every time you stepped on your right foot. Why did you have to be so stubborn not to accept your friend’s help? You apartment seemed so far and you wondered if you’d ever make it home alive. You had already been walking for twenty minutes and you hadn’t even reached a quarter of your path yet. You could feel your ankle’s state deteriorating, but there was nothing you could do about it... or so you thought.

Yoongi was walking back from the restaurant to his studio, when he noticed the girl in front of him seeming hurt, walking weirdly. He mentally debated wether to help her or not for about two minutes, before deciding his work could wait.

“Hey, miss... Are you alright?” you heard a soft voice ask from behind you, then felt a light tapping on your shoulder. You turned around, confused and annoyed due to your ankle aching so badly. “I... You uhhh... Just seemed to be hurting from your foot,” explained the cute young man now standing in front of you. You shrugged, pretending it wasn’t nearly as bad as it truly was, but the stranger knew something was off and insisted, “Let me at least take you to the hospital. It’s not too far away from here.” You quickly disagreed, not wanting to be a burden to him, but he kept insisting your ankle seemed abnormally swollen. You finally gave up, letting him guide you towards the nearest hospital. “Lean on me, it’ll be easier for you to walk that way,” the man noted and you followed his order, gladly allowing him to support you, alleviating the pressure on your foot. On your way to the hospital, you explained the nice man what had happened and he carefully listened to your every words, while supporting you as you walked.

You got to the hospital in no time and the man who introduced himself as Min Yoongi waited next to you the whole time, even following you when the doctor called out your name. After running a few physical tests, the doctor determined you had sprained your ankle. He advised you on what and what not to do, then handed you a pair of clutches and a few papers with directions.

Yoongi insisted on following you back home and you didn’t have the strength to argue, glad you had someone to walk you back home. You feared getting lost if you ever tried finding your way back by yourself. You didn’t think you’d have survived if you got lost, all the while being injured. You both discussed the whole way back, this time under a less tensed atmosphere, the urgency of the situation slowly fading away after having been treated by a doctor. You learned that Yoongi was a musician, which made him a hundred times more interesting to you. He informed you about his job, while you spoke about your recent arrival in Seoul.

Once you got home, Yoongi asked you to hand him your phone, claiming he’d add his number to your list of contacts, in case you needed anything. “Don’t feel bad for calling me whenever you might need something. It might be useful when you barely know anyone here,” he remarked, shooting you a faint smile. You immediately agreed, handing him the electronic device you held in your hand at that moment.

As he was focusing on your phone, you analyzed his features. He had tiny downturned eyes, a small delicate nose, soft pouty lips and clear pale skin. His dark hair seemed fluffy and you wished you could’ve ran your hand through his locks. Throughout the whole time you had spent by his side, you hadn’t had time to correctly and worthily observe him, seeing as you were in such a panic state, but now that you could actually take a glance at him, you realized you should’ve done it sooner. He was truly gorgeous, but you knew you couldn’t look at him for way longer, since he was about to leave.

After having made sure you got inside your apartment safe, Yoongi waved you goodbye, reminding you to call him if you ever needed anything, be it some help, a friend, an ear to listen to your problems or some company. You thanked him, but you doubted he heard you, being already halfway down the staircase. You were tempted to request him to come back, feeling more lonely than ever, but you restrained yourself, knowing he had done more than enough for you throughout the day. It would have to wait, at least for a while. You’d eventually have to pay him back, wether he liked it or not.

Jung Hoseok (J-Hope)

You had decided to register to some dance class in a studio that was apparently quite renowned and you felt a little nervous, since it was your first class ever in this particular studio. Do people already know each other? Are they friendly? Will everyone be better than me? Are the choreographies difficult? Will I be able to catch up to the others? You had so many questions racing through your head as you entered the modern building, but you decided to ignore them, focusing on the music that was playing in your headphones. You asked the lady at the front desk for directions and quickly headed towards the changing room to get ready.

Hoseok had been looking for a job for quite a while, so he happily agreed when his dance teacher offered him to give classes in order to earn some money. It was an offer Hoseok couldn’t have refused: he would make money while doing something he loves. He was one of the best dancers at the studio, so it was no surprise that his teacher had offered him the job. His teacher also knew about his ease to communicate with people and to bring them together, and decided Hoseok was the perfect candidate for the job.

After contemplating your life choices for fifteen minutes in the locker room, you realized the class was about to start and quickly headed towards the practice room. You entered the mirror-filled room and took place at the back, where no one could see you if you ever embarrassed yourself.

The teacher entered the room less than two minutes later, a bright smile on his face. He looked about your age and you had to admit he was quite good-looking, with his dark brown hair, his well-defined facial traits, his lively brown eyes and his heart-shaped smile. The both of you maintained a brief eye contact, before looking away, as if nothing had just happened. The young man introduced himself as Jung Hoseok, but stated that people usually call him Hobi.

You were delighted by your dance teacher’s music choices, letting yourself move freely, in complete sync with the rhythm. You truly were enjoying yourself after all, way more than you had expected, which is why you didn’t notice the constant glances Hoseok shot you.

Working with his students on a difficult move, Hoseok quickly noticed how you had already mastered it. He couldn’t help but stare at you, mesmerized by the way you swayed your hips and smoothly executed the steps one right after the other. You were doing exactly what he had been so desperately trying to explain to the other students for the past ten minutes, so he decided to call you out, asking you to come in front of the class and perform the move for everyone else to see.

You were a blushing mess, absolutely confused as to why your dance teacher was preaching you so much. You thought you were doing fine, but didn’t expect to perform so well Hoseok shows you as an example.

You followed his orders and walked towards the front of the room, avoiding his eyes. “What’s your name?” you heard Hoseok question. You answered and he smiled fondly, commenting, “A beautiful name for such a talented dancer...” You were so embarrassed you could’ve sworn your cheeks were as red as a freshly picked tomato. You weren’t used to this kind of attention back where you lived, but since your arrival in Korea, people could tell you weren’t from there and this made you a hundred times more interesting to the eyes of locals. This is actually what had attracted Hoseok to you since entering the practice room, although he hadn’t mentioned it. You rapidly thanked him, before executing the steps. People applauded you once you were done, adding to your current embarrassment.

You quickly made your way back to your initial spot, trying not to get noticed once again, dancing more discretely until the end of the class.

As you were about to step out of the room, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around, facing Hoseok, who still had a smile glued to his face, despite having danced nonstop for an hour or so. He questioned you about your home country, intrigued in learning more about your differences. You eventually had to admit that behind that charming, bright personality, Hoseok was really friendly and knew how to make you feel at ease after all. Suddenly, he interrupts you to ask :

“Do you want to carry on with this conversation somewhere else?”

“Yeah, why not... But I don’t know the area quite well.”

“Don’t worry, I know a nice café only five minutes away from here.”

And so, the two of you walked towards the coffee shop, never once giving way to silence. The drinks were delectable and your conversations were interesting, and the afternoon went by smoothly, although you were nervous to hang out with your dance teacher at first. Signing up to this dance studio maybe wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Kim Namjoon (RM)

You had decided to go to the library near your apartment, in search of an interesting book to read in your free times. You had never seen the building, but luckily spotted the big sign on which it was written “도서관” (library). You sighed, entering the relatively big, modern building. You were pleasantly surprised when you saw the inside: tall windows covered most of the walls, tall wooden shelves full of books were perfectly lined in front of you, there were a few tables and cushioned seats placed in small groups and potted plants decorated the room, giving off a soft, vintage and natural vibe to it.

You wandered through the library for god knows how long, unsure of which books to choose. A particular book cover caught your attention, so you grabbed it and went to sit down on a cushioned seat, finally being able to drop off all of your books on the table in front of you. You had chosen books written in korean, knowing you needed to improve your skills in that language, not only orally, but also in your writing, considering you were now living in Korea. You started off with the book with the interesting cover.

As soon as you realized there was a counter where they sold coffee and other beverages of that kind, you immediately abandoned your book, quickly heading to the counter to buy yourself something. You returned to your seat right after, sipping on your drink while reading your book. At that moment, you couldn’t have been more comfortable, fully enjoying that relaxing time all by yourself.

You were so absorbed in your reading you didn’t notice the young man taking a seat right next to you. “That’s a really good book,” you heard an unknown voice comment from your right. You snapped out of your trance, jumping slightly in surprise. You turned to take a look at whoever had addressed you and saw a young adult with dark hair, soft eyes, tanned skin and a dimpled smile staring at you, waiting for you to answer. You quickly regained your composure, smiling back at him and answering, “Yeah... You think so?” He nodded wisely, before adding, “Of course. It’s a classic here. I’ve actually read it more than once. You’re not from here, are you?” You shook your head no, then informed him about your home country.

He carried on asking you questions and you sworn you had never seen someone so genuinely interested in getting to know you. You spent some time discussing about your most recent literary finds, debating on which book was the best. Soon enough, you had emptied your drink and desired having some more. You got up to get a drink after advising the man you now knew as Kim Namjoon, before realizing how impolite it was not to offer him one. He kept declining your offer, claiming he didn’t have much money with him, but you were determined to instead buy him one yourself, without him having to pay you back. He eventually had to give in, soon realizing you wouldn’t.

As you were back in your comfortable seats, he kept insisting on paying you back for your kind gesture. After a few minutes of Namjoon desperately trying to convince you, you found yourself having no other choice but to agree to his offer. You questioned him about how he would pay you back, but he simply shrugged, claiming it was a surprise.

You were intrigued, but knew asking questions would bring you nowhere. He simply gave you his phone for you to type in your number, so he could keep contact with you after leaving the library. However, it wasn’t time to leave yet, so you resumed your conversation where you had left it before going to buy beverages. You learned a lot about this total stranger throughout the afternoon and you enjoyed spending some time with him. Namjoon was a really wise, logical and eloquent person, which made you full of admiration for him. He also seemed really ambitious, rambling on about his achievements and dreams.

You were both so deep into your conversation you stayed in the library until the sun had completely set and it was time for the library to close for the night, never having noticed once the passing time. You didn’t know you could carry conversations with someone for so long and you quite enjoyed it. Hopefully, you would meet again soon, keeping in mind Namjoon’s promise to pay you back.

Your new friend insisted on walking you back home, since it was pretty dark outside. You declined his offer, but he once again insisted so much you had to accept. “What kind of person would I be if I let you walk back home all by yourself, in the dark?” commented Namjoon. You chuckled, shaking your head as you both made your way back to your apartment. Once he made sure you had gotten home safe, you exchanged your goodbyes, promising to meet up again as soon as possible.

Park Jimin (Jimin)

You were out with a friend of yours, enjoying your day off from school, treating yourselves with a pleasant ‘girls’ day out’. You didn’t have an exact plan in mind, so you simply visited your favourite shops and places, not looking for anything particular. However, you still had precise plans for the night : staying in your shared apartment, eating takeout, lounging on the couches and watching your favourite series. In short, you were planning to do absolutely nothing, being way too physically and mentally drained from school to find the energy to accomplish anything else.

You began your day in a clothing shop, trying on both the most beautiful and the most ridiculous outfits you could find, giving each other advice on what to buy. You didn’t have much money with you, but you were still determined to buy something cute for yourself. After all, you deserve to treat yourself once in a while for working so hard, don’t you?

As you roamed around the shop in search of the perfect garment, your eyes met those of a male, about your age, who immediately looked away, giggling in embarrassment. His smile was the cutest you had ever seen, his full, pouty lips turning upwards, his puffy cheeks hiding his eyes in the process, making them seem as if they were smiling too.

You ignored the poor boy, heading back to the changing room, having completely forgotten about your previous mission, which was to find the perfect piece of clothing. You realized your hands were empty, as the lady managing the changing rooms shot you a weird look.

Jimin had come to shop with his best friend Taehyung. After your awkward eye contact, he turned around, hiding his face in his friend’s back in embarrassment, making him turn around in surprise. “Oh my god! I’m so stupid! I was staring at a cute girl in the shop and she turned around and we had an eye contact and I just looked away and laughed like an idiot! Why do I always make the worst first impressions with cute girls?!” Jimin whined. Taehyung chuckled in amusement and replied, “Because you have somewhat no social skills...” Jimin jokingly punched his friend’s shoulder, reminding him in his defence about how he had chickened out while asking a girl out once.

You continued your shopping round after having found what you were looking for. You decided out of the blue to go and watch a movie. As you were waiting in line, you spotted the guy from the first shop, discussing with someone you assumed was his friend. You tapped your friend on her shoulder, trying to discretely point at the young man, explaining her your first encounter in the clothing shop. She laughed and commented, “Well... He’s good looking. You have great taste in men!” You rolled your eyes, pretending you hadn’t heard her last sentence.

Once the movie was over, you were both hungry and decided to find a small restaurant where you could stop and take a bite. You were eyeing the menu, discussing with your friend before choosing what to eat when Jimin and Taehyung entered the exact same restaurant you were in. You lifted your eyes from the menu and noticed the two boys sitting down at a table a little further from yours. You would’ve sworn they were following you, considering you had encountered them on three different occasions throughout the day. Your friend caught you looking through the restaurant and followed your glance, immediately spotting the two boys. She chuckled slightly, pointing out how you had been staring at the young man every time your eyes came across him. You denied it, simply stating you thought it seemed suspicious that you had encountered them three times in a row. She agreed with you, but still insisted that you kept your eyes on him a little too long for you not to be interested in him. You had to admit the boy was quite handsome, but it didn’t mean anything.

As you were eating your meal, you couldn’t help but look in the direction of the young man, catching him glancing at you every time you did. You would both look away, a little embarrassed. You tried being subtle, but your friend had noticed for a while, simply abstaining herself from commenting.

You were about to leave, when you felt someone tapping at your shoulder. You turned around and noticed the shy boy’s friend standing behind you, a smirk on his face. He was handsome, with dark brown hair, deep eyes and perfectly defined eyebrows. He answered your questioning look, stating, while motioning to his friend, “My friend over there wanted to know if he could have your number. He’s too shy to ask.” You turned to look at his friend, seeing him hiding his face in his hands, the visible part of his cheeks being a bright tint of pink. You shyly nodded, taking the phone the man was handing you in your own hands, typing in your number, your hands shaking out of nervousness. The guy thanked you and returned to his friend, a look of victory imprinted on his face. “You’re blushing hard,” your friend declared in a teasing tone of voice. You quickly defended yourself, claiming you weren’t blushing and that it was probably the lighting giving off that feeling. You weren’t convincing in the slightest, but you hoped your friend would leave you alone, which she thankfully did.

You left the restaurant, heading back to your apartment to continue your day together, accordingly to your plans. However, for the rest of the night you couldn’t entirely focus on your activities, constantly reflecting about your special encounter, so much it kept you awake at night.

Kim Taehyung (V)

You had recently moved to Korea and seeing all these glamorous clothing stores gave you an urge to start your wardrobe all over again. You sometimes made a quick stop in some of the appealing stores in your neighbourhood, but you hadn’t had time yet to spend a good amount of time in each of them. When you were finally done with all the moving procedures, you used your last day off before the beginning of the school year to explore the city of Seoul and all its eccentric, fashion-forward shops.

You were an exchange student in Korea and although you were only supposed to live there until the end of your school year, you had planned on establishing yourself there afterwards. You were currently living in a dorm on the campus of your University and had already made friends with your roommate, with who you hung out during your free times since your arrival.

Your roommate had decided to accompany you in your shopping spree, so you could give each other advices on what to buy and what not to buy. You headed out of the dorm, sporting your not-so-fashionable sweatpants and a hoodie you didn’t quite remember when was the last time it had actually been washed. You couldn’t care less, considering you didn’t know anyone yet, so the chances of you coming face to face with an acquaintance were very slim, almost non-existent.

With your new friend, you stopped by the first aesthetic-looking shop you encountered, a feeling of excitement taking over your body at the thought of having a new wardrobe, full of stylish, trendy outfits you could wear. You had always been attracted to Korean street fashion, admiring the fashionable outfits on social medias, but it was no longer out of reach for you.

You began roaming through the different sections of the boutique, in search of lovely clothes you could try on. You joined your friend at the changing rooms and you both started matching pieces of clothing together, trying to create the perfect outfit, before showing the other, who would give you feedback and tips.

After taking a few heart-breaking decisions about which clothes to choose, which clothes to abandon, you both leave the store, feeling content with your finds. You quickly spot another shop, this time looking more on the elegant side. You repeat the same plan you had used in the previous shop, slowly walking around the store. However, this time, you roommate spots some of her friends right outside the boutique, quickly running out to catch up to them, leaving you all by yourself in a store you don’t know, surrounded by people who speak a language you haven’t quite mastered yet.

You tried not to let your anxiety take over you, but you couldn’t help but feel small and helpless in such a situation. You hadn’t realized you had been staring at the same garment for a good five minutes, lost in your thoughts. “That’s a good choice,” affirmed a deep, masculine voice coming from right beside you. Startled by the sudden noise and the proximity of it, you turn around way too quickly. The voice came from a tall, handsome young man with soft-looking brown hair, deep, sensitive eyes, well-defined eyebrows and a friendly smile dancing on his lips. “W-What?” you manage to get out, still a little frightened. “I said it was a good choice. The shirt you have in your hands,” replied the man, motioning at the piece of fabric in your hands. You finally came back to your senses, muttering a confused “Oh... Yeah... Right...” The guy in front of you chuckled slightly at your confusion, declaring, “I’m Kim Taehyung. Nice to meet you! Where are you from?”

You answered him, before he commented, pointing at one of your pieces of clothing, “You’re not actually gonna buy this, are you?” You frowned in uncertainty, questioning, “Yeah, I am. Why are you asking this?” He laughed and retorted, “Well, I’m sorry but it’s absolutely hideous!” Slightly offended by the blunt comment, you note, “What do you know about fashion? Have you seen your shirt?” “That’s a fashion item. If you knew anything about fashion you’d know this. I know something about fashion, I’m an art student,” he responds in a cocky tone. You snap back, declaring, “Being an art student doesn’t mean you have a good fashion sense...” “Alright, alright. Don’t be so pissed. I only said I thought you shouldn’t buy that shirt,” finally claimed Taehyung. You rolled your eyes in pure annoyance at his behaviour. He carried on, “Well, seems like your friend has abandoned you. How about we shop together, since we’re both alone?” You agreed, despite your annoyance towards him, knowing his advice might be useful, plus it’s always better to shop with someone. You didn’t know the man and he might as well have been a pedophile, but you chose to take the risk anyway.

You ended up spending the whole afternoon together at the mall, realizing how you both have many similar tastes in clothing. You had to agree he was right about the first shirt, even though his behaviour irritated you, questioning your ability to make right clothing choices. At the end of the afternoon, you exchanged numbers, before parting ways.

You spotted your roommate at the entrance of another boutique, gesturing for you to join her. She introduced you to her friends and they immediately welcomed you in their group, questioning you non-stop about your home country and discussing about life in South Korea. You continued shopping with them until it was almost dark. However, shopping wasn’t as fun as it was with Taehyung and you couldn’t help but wish he was still next to you, giving his opinion whenever you spotted something you liked. That art student maybe had a good sense of fashion after all...

Jeon Jeongguk (Jungkook)

You had moved to Seoul a year ago and another school year was about to begin, to your biggest despair. You had made a few friends, but barely had time to hang out with them, seeing you not only had to get the school work done, but also had to learn korean on top of everything. It had been an exhausting first year, and frankly, you didn’t know what to expect from this second year, hoping for the best, but bracing yourself for the worst.

It was the night before the first day of courses and you had everything ready: your bag was packed, your lunch was already prepared, your outfit was ready for the next day, resting on your desk chair. You went to sleep early, trying to be in the best possible shape the next day, but your racing mind prevented you from falling asleep.

The next morning, you woke up as tired as ever, wishing you could’ve slept for another hour or so. You got up, sipped on a warm cup of coffee, dressed up and applied a light touch of makeup to your face, wanting to look at least a little decent for your first day of the school year, before heading out the door, completely forgetting about eating breakfast. You were in a rush and didn’t want to miss the bus bringing you to the campus, so you walked at a quick pace to the bus stop, although you were far from being late.

Once at school, you sat down at one of the numerous empty seats, getting your school supplies out of your bag, ready to begin your course. Luckily, you only had three hours of class that day, meaning you had the whole afternoon to yourself. A few minutes later, a boy your age stopped at the desk right beside yours, asking, “Is this seat taken?” You shook your head no, allowing the boy to sit down. He had gorgeous rounded brown eyes and brown strands of hair perfectly fell onto his forehead. He shot you a friendly smile, his delicate lips curving cutely. “Hi! My name’s Jeon Jeongguk, but you can call me Jungkook if it’s easier for you,” the young man declared. You introduced yourself too, thus starting a conversation with him. It was his first year at that school, recently having moved to Seoul to pursue his dreams, so you informed him about everything he had to know about and questioned him about his ambitions.

You spotted an appetizing breakfast sitting at the corner of his desk and you couldn’t help but stare at it once in a while, feeling your stomach grumbling out of hunger. Jungkook soon noticed your behaviour, quickly offering you some. You declined his offer, claiming you’d eat something later on. He couldn’t let you start your day on an empty stomach, so he insisted, handing you his dish. You thanked him, explaining why you hadn’t actually had breakfast before coming to school. The food was truly delectable and you still felt bad for stealing half of it from him because of your own mistake. He kept repeating he didn’t mind, then took a few snacks out of his bag, saying he’d eat these if he was hungry, finally convincing you it wasn’t such a big deal.

You started discussing about your interests and hobbies, discovering you had quite a lot in common. It was enjoyable to discuss with that new friendly student and you didn’t notice the time passing by. Or at least, you hoped class wasn’t starting soon.

Suddenly, you both heard a loud and strict voice state, “Hey the couple in the back. If you don’t mind, I’m trying to teach the class, so could you maybe tone it down a bit.” You felt your face flush in embarrassment as you noticed all the faces turning towards you and Jungkook, including the teacher, staring at you from his spot in front of the classroom. You glanced at your friend, noticing his cocky smile. He quickly replied, “Oh, Mister, I’d like to apologize on behalf of my girlfriend and myself. Don’t worry, we’ll be quiet from now on.” Jungkook was surprised by the confidence in his tone as he gave the teacher a cocky answer. He’s usually not the type to talk back to an adult the way he did, but this time, it was different. He couldn’t embarrass himself in front of you, so he hid his usually shy personality, gathered all his confidence and replied with a sarcastic comment.

You were still shocked by his blunt answer, especially since he had called you his girlfriend in front of the whole class, while you had just met minutes ago. You shot him a weird look, to which he simply replied by bursting into a fit of laughter. His laughter was contagious and you soon joined in, giggling about the situation. The teacher thankfully ignored you both, carrying on with the lesson.

You and Jungkook continued subtly discussing throughout the whole class, acting as if nothing was going on whenever the teacher turned around, making it hard for the both of you to contain your laughter every time you saw the annoyed look plastered to his face. You would usually religiously listen to the teacher talking, but you didn’t mind breaking the rules for once, if it allowed you to keep exchanging with Jungkook. You’d ask a fellow student what you’ve missed later on. As the course came to an end, you knew your school year wouldn’t be as bad as you had expected it to be, as long as you had your new friend sitting next to you.

It was lunch time and you were looking for an excuse to continue spending time with Jungkook. You then remembered how he was new to this school and thought you could show him around. You suggested your idea, hoping Jungkook wouldn’t think it seemed suspicious. Luckily, he smiled softly, answering, “Why not? I’ve told my roommate I’d eat lunch with him, but I can tell him I’ve had a change of plans and I’m pretty sure he won’t mind. I can still eat with him tomorrow. So... Let’s go! I can’t stand being in this suffocating room anymore and I’m starving!” You laughed, then followed him out of the classroom.

You hung out together for the whole afternoon until it was time for you to catch the bus driving you back to your apartment, never once feeling bored. You thought time really does fly when you’re in good company. And you wished time would pass quickly more often, if it meant you were spending time with Jungkook.

A/N: [This is my first actual post. I hope you like it and I’ll be back soon with the next one which is the idol version of “how you met”. Thanks for reading!] 💕

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

Test failed.

aka Aish actually writes a Splatoon fic for once because my little brother suggested it (beware octo expansion spoilers!)

Here on AO3

Agent 8 sat in her car, waiting. When she had first arrived in Inkopolis she’d never seen one of these before in person. To think that within just a few short months, she had learnt to drive one! Full freedom was almost here. There was just one step left before she could hit the road for real and go anywhere she wanted.

Her driving test.

It was a clear, sunny afternoon, the heat shimmering off the road ahead of her like an inky mirage. Hopefully that wouldn’t cause visibility problems. Her phone buzzed in her hand with yet another message of good luck wishes – Cap’n Cuttlefish, Pearl, Marina, and even the elusive Agent 3 had been sending them to her throughout the day. All it did was make her more nervous. She shoved the phone in her pocket and wiped her hands on her skirt, taking deep breaths, then took hold of the steering wheel in front of her.

The passenger door opened. Agent 8 turned to take a look at her examiner, but there didn’t appear to be anyone there at all. She had been expecting an inkling, or perhaps even a jellyfish, not an empty space!

“Good to see you again, Agent 8. I will be your driving examiner for today.”

No…

That voice sent shivers down her back. Surely it couldn’t be…?

But it was. The tiny blue slug-like creature she had been dreading was crawling up onto the passenger seat.

“C.Q. Cumber,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he replied in that monotonous, callous voice of his.

Agent 8’s hands were already starting to shake on the wheel, so she gripped it tighter and took another breath to steady her nerves. Alright, so this little blue bundle of terror was her examiner. Fine. She had handled him for eighty metro stations, hadn’t she? She could do this!

But those metro stations… oh, that voice still haunted her.

You let the 8-ball fall – test failed.

You contacted enemy ink – test failed.

A balloon got away – test failed.

Followed by every ink-based creature’s most primal fear coming to life – being splatted helplessly. Yes, C.Q. Cumber never hesitated to blow Agent 8 sky-high whenever she couldn’t complete a test to his standards. Of course, he didn’t kill her, she always respawned nearby. That didn’t make her temporary deaths any less painful, or any less terrifying, though.

Not to mention, thinking about the Deepsea Metro in general was terrifying. It was down there that she had almost been blended into puree like thousands of unlucky Octolings before her, down there that she had to fight a sanitized Agent 3 against her will, down there that the darn telephone had tried to ruin her life. Up here on the surface, she just wanted to forget about it all and move on!

But she couldn’t. Not until she had passed this driving test, and C.Q. Cumber had returned to the abyss from where he came.

“Please begin to drive.” His voice lacked any emotion whatsoever. He had curled himself up around the seatbelt so that he could see over the dashboard.

Agent 8 pushed down on the accelerator and let the car inch forward. Agent 3 had teased her for wanting to drive in heels, but hey, these were the heels she had escaped the underground in. Driving in them didn’t turn out to be too much of a problem. And plus, they looked nice, didn’t they?

“Please drive to the end of the road and turn left.”

Agent 8 did as she was asked, ignoring how her heart raced at hearing that creepy voice again. It brought back memories of pushing 8-balls along narrow paths with Squiffers, of mowing down hordes of sanitized enemies with Splatlings, of taking down a giant octo biker samurai all on her own while that little blue cucumber just watched and judged as she failed over and over.

“Now I would like you to join the main road and drive towards the bridge.”

She cautiously wove her way into the traffic. Every one of her senses was on high alert. An inkling’s loud laughter down the street made her jump in her seat, sweating drops of translucent ink.

C.Q. Cumber directed her to Hammerhead Bridge, then out to the road over Urchin Underpass, where he instructed her to slalom drive through a line of cones he had arranged earlier, taking care not to hit any. Agent 8 slowed down more than she would have liked on this test – playing it safe would be better than taking risks here, even if driving this slowly might potentially cause C.Q. Cumber to fail her too.

After this he told her to drive to the parking area beneath Moray Towers, at which she had to park the car in one of the bays without scraping the sides against the walls. This was something Agent 8 had practiced plenty of times with Off the Hook blasting through the radio to give her strength, so it wasn’t much of a challenge, although the eerie silence (occasionally broken by C.Q. Cumber’s quiet background squelching) put her off quite a bit.

By the time C.Q. Cumber said, “Thank you, please return to the test centre for your results,” the sun was setting and leaving dangerous spots in Agent 8’s eyes. She wiped the sweat off her forehead, brushed her hair out of her face, and began driving back towards the area they had started from.

How had she done? This examiner of hers was too stoic to let her know from his voice or attitude, so she had to judge for herself until he told her. Well, she hadn’t made any big mistakes. In fact, her hyper-anxious state meant that for once she hadn’t made any minor mistakes either. Somehow, her driving today had been even more perfect than it had ever been! (Gee, why couldn’t that happen when she was driving Agent 3 places…?)

The final stretch was filled with more uncomfortable silence, and thoughts crowded her mind, providing a welcome distraction from her nerves.

Maybe C.Q. Cumber wasn’t that bad. He was just doing his job, right? Sure, Agent 8 being constantly splatted when putting one tentacle out of line had sort of conditioned her to be oversensitive to failure, freaking out over the tiniest things she could have done wrong, striving for perfection always. Agent 3 was always telling her to chill out. But it wasn’t C.Q. Cumber’s fault, it was that telephone’s fault for keeping her down there in the first place!

And plus, the little cucumber was kind of adorable in a weird way. He was small, squidgy, his voice high-pitched, and he always made sure to tell her to take care of herself. It seemed he did care about her, even if he was bad at showing it.

Could that make up for everything? Maybe it could. And the thought of having passed her driving test, with flying colours too, was putting her Agent 8 in a charitable mood. Maybe she really could forgive C.Q. Cumber for all those times he had inksploded her for minor infractions. It would be worth it.

The test centre was within sight. Agent 8 let out a sigh of relief, all nerves flooding out of her. She had done it – she had really done it! A straight stretch of road was all that was left between her and total freedom.

Then her eyes drifted down to the speedometer.

No – she was one inkometre above the limit!

She hastily put her foot on the brake pedal to get back under control. Phew. Her eyes slid to the side, wondering if C.Q. Cumber had seen that. Please say he hadn’t, please say just one tiny inkometre wouldn’t matter to him, please say this still meant she passed–

“You drove above the speed limit.”

Uh-oh. She knew that tone of voice very well indeed. It instilled an involuntary reaction in her, one of utter fear. The fate that awaited her was inevitable. She began slowing the car to a stop, the test centre so close yet so frustratingly far, out of reach.

“Test failed.”

There it was.

She closed her eyes as the car rolled to a standstill. The sound of an ink bag inflating filled her ears, so familiar and yet so completely terrifying. She knew what came next.

SPLAT.

Respawning back in the test centre, she rubbed incoming tears out of her eyes. She had failed – what would everyone think? They had all been so supportive of her! To think that she could save Inkopolis from certain doom, and yet not pass a simple driving test?

The door slammed open. Her eyes dropped down to see C.Q. Cumber crawling in. She turned away again – now was really not a good time. All her forgiveness from earlier had gone, leaving her bitter and full of self-pity. Did one lousy inkometre really mean the difference between passing and failing? Her driving instructor had told her that a tiny bit of speeding didn’t matter!

“Ahem. Agent 8.”

She still refused to look at him.

“I have good news. You have passed your driving test.”

That got her attention. He hopes shot up, but filled with confusion too – what was he talking about? He’d already told her she had failed!

“I was merely joking about you having failed. Driving up to three 3im above the speed limit is acceptable in the form of a minor penalty, and does not result in automatic failure. I was simply amusing myself. A reminder of the old times, down in the Deepsea Metro.”

Amusing himself? She hadn’t even expected him to have a sense of humour. She glared at him, wondering if he could sense the thoughts running through her brain.

“My apologies, I see now that this test meant a lot to you. Perhaps it was inappropriate of me to trick you like that.”

Yeah, it was.

“Your driving licence has been left in your car. Congratulations on passing.”

He didn’t sound enthusiastic at all. Did he care? Did it matter if he cared? He couldn’t just make fun of her insecurities like that and get away with it. No longer down in the metro now, Agent 8 had allowed herself to have more spunk, to grow a personality, to stand up for herself and not blindly follow the orders of others. That was just asking to be blended.

She slowly walked over to C.Q. Cumber, surreptitiously pulling a Luna Blaster out from the holder on the back of her ink tank.

“Test failed,” she muttered. Then she splatted him in one shot.

Sweet, sweet revenge.

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 30

Hiya Guys,

I can’t believe I am on part 30 and I’ve now been writing for over 4 months! Ahhh! I also can’t believe that people are actually liking and enjoying my writing so thank you guys all so much! i really appreciate it more than you can possibly understand!

Ok anyway here’s the next part, again not 100% happy with it - but I never am! So have it anyway!

I promise I will put some Joker in the next chapter?

Anyway enjoy!

Warnings: Brief mention of suicide

Masterlist

“What is this?” I asked grabbing the phone from Frost’s hand and reading the article - scanning it desperately to find what the headline could possibly mean. There was no main picture with the article, but I knew –from the title alone -it was about the Joker.

My eyes flickered over the large body of text and some of the words seem to stand out in bold to me – ‘…Joker’, ’ …met his demise’, ‘…suicide’, ‘…death’. Panic began to set into my body, my hands becoming clammy, my breaths shorter, and my heart beat unsteady. “Frost what is this?!” I repeated desperately at the screen, not looking at him as I blinked rapidly at the tears pricking at my eyes and blurring my vision.

“Read it.” He simply told me and he too seemed to be struggling with what was on the screen. I took a breath to try to get myself under control and focus on the whole article, now taking my time now to actually read the full page. It was dated from an hour earlier and the words swam and danced in front of me till I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. Finally I could read it, “It’s been two weeks since the Arkham escapee ‘The Joker’ was last seen on the streets of Gotham. It is unknown if this lack of activity is signalling the end of his recent run of crime or if another attack is still in the planning.

The GCPD has so far refused to confirm or deny whether they or the Batman have apprehended the clown prince of crime, but - in a surprising twist today – reports have begun to circulate that the jesting villain may have met his demise.

So far no body has been identified but rumours on the streets of Gotham vary- some claiming there was a possible suicide attempt by the well-known psychopath; others claiming it was by the hand of the masked vigilante Batman – but with the clear theme of the psychotic clown’s death.

There has still yet to be any evidence provided to support any of the theories suggested so far and speculation still remains on the Joker’s current whereabouts. The GCPD -

I broke off there, my eyes once again blurring too much as the tears slide down my face. I handed Frost back his phone and I peeked at him through the hair that fell across my eyes – trying to see if I could catch any emotions on his face. He seemed low, his frown more sad than grumpy now, but he showed no obvious distraught unlike me. When I fully raised my head and looked at him properly he met my gaze and there seemed almost pity in his eyes – probably for me and the state I had worked myself into - but also what seemed to be concern – concern for the Joker. What had happened? Was he truly dead? Was I too late to make it to Gotham?

By this point I no longer cared what reason I had given myself to justify returning to Gotham – I could no longer lie to myself that my decision had come from wishing to save innocent civilians who got in his way. Heck, now – if the article was true – they would probably be much safer!

But I no longer cared about them – and had I ever truly? Every last person could die now for all I cared if it would only ensure he was alive. I was a selfish person, making excuses so that I didn’t feel I was an insane little girl running back into the arms of my tormentor.

But now I didn’t care anymore.

I couldn’t lie to myself or anyone else anymore. If there was even a remote chance he was alive I had to know. I had to go to Gotham and find him – dead or alive.

As I had become lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice how shallow my breathing had gotten, how shaky my hands. I began to become detached from everything around me, my head becoming dizzy and cloudy. I became so numb that I didn’t even notice Frost move towards me and I only vaguely acknowledged my knees giving way beneath me.

I never felt myself hit the floor.

When I became conscious once more I was confused.

I couldn’t recall anything from before – what day was it? Did I have a shift? Did my alarm wake me up? Why wasn’t it still chiming?

Then memories began to flow back through my mind – was any of that a dream? I could remember talking to Frost at the door, then him appearing in my living room, then him leaving. Snap shots of recollections playing across my eyelids. I could remember opening the door my front door once more to go searching for Frost, but what then –

The Phone.

The Article.

I snapped my eyes open - the bright light from the surrounding windows causing me to squint. As my eyes adjusted I noticed I was in the passenger seat of a large SUV which Frost appeared to be driving down a long stretch of open highway. I blinked some more in the daylight, my eyes still sore and raw from crying earlier, and watched the farmed fields and occasional town sliding past.

I turned to look across to the driver side where Frost was sat staring straight ahead, both hands gripping the wheel tightly.

He glanced over at me as I pushed myself more upright, shifting in my seat and groaning as I moved -  my neck protested sharply at the change in angle. “Ugh – How long was I out?” I asked, my voice sound croaky from sleep.

“About an hour.” He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. I didn’t know what to say to that, and so a silence fell between us, the only sound in the car coming from the roar of the engine and road. I sat looking forward, watching the brake lights of vehicles in front of us light up as I came to grips with the situation I found myself in and what had happened before I woke up. Why had I fainted?

“Frost.” I started cautiously, sensing his tense mood. “What happened?”

“You had a panic attack.” He informed me, “You blacked out from it.”

Well that was odd. I hadn’t had a panic attack since I was little – and never one strong enough to knock me out. I could feel my cheeks warming as I thought about poor Frost left alone to deal with a women who had just fainted in front of him. “I’m sorry.” I muttered humiliated, no longer able to look at him.

“No need to –“ he mumbled uncomfortably and became incoherent over the noise of the road.

We couldn’t look at each now, both a bit self-conscious or embarrassed about the whole thing. I kept my eyes staring out of the passenger window, acutely aware of how red my cheeks must be. I tried to take my mind off it by looking for an indication of where we were, or a road sign telling me where we might be heading.

“Frost.” I started once more, trying to break the awkward silence between us. “Are we going to Gotham?” I asked turning back to him.

He shot a quick look at me to gage how I felt about this before he gave a nod, “Yes.” He confirmed, “And before you start yelling I can explain. I –“

“It’s alright Frost. Don’t worry about it.” I said, interrupting him before he began another long speech in an attempt to convince me that this was the right thing to do. I watched his eyebrows crinkle in confusion as he continued to watch the road.

“You’re not mad that I basically abducted you?” he questioned.

“No.” I said simply like it was no big problem. “I would probably have come anyway.” I admitted, shrugging and looking back out the window. Frost still looked confused and I realised I had never told him about my change in heart about returning to Gotham. “I was going to come find you, by the way.” I clarified, glancing over at his profile, “I changed my mind - I want to go back.”

Any reactions he had to this sudden revelation he chose to keep hidden under his emotionless mask – though I thought I saw a glimpse of relief in his eyes. He was probably glad that I wasn’t going to put up a struggle, not that there was much I could do in a locked vehicle travelling way over the speed limit down a highway in the middle of nowhere.

We fell quiet again, but now that the air was cleared between us it felt more relaxed, almost companionable, and I noticed that Frost’s hands had loosened slightly on the steering wheel. I turned back to my window to watch the world fly by - the sun now almost at its highest point in the sky, though partially hidden behind clouds of different shades that lazily floated by reminding me of the never ending questions that drifted in my mind.

“Uh – Frost?” I said abruptly, getting his attention, “Are we really driving all the way to Gotham?” I knew that would take days - at least 2 days - and that would be without any breaks along the way.

“No.” He answered, glancing in the rear view mirror and signalling to change lanes, “We’re driving to the nearest airport.”

“Oh. Ok.” I acknowledged lamely, not sure what else to say and my courage to ask more was failing me. Though I now felt I knew Frost better, he still continued to intimidate me, at some times more than others and I was very aware that he that the upper hand in this situation – being the driver and actually aware of where we were. Though I had yelled and bullied him back at my house on the farm, I was no longer in my comfort zone – in fact I was probably at least 100 miles from my comfort zone – and I knew it. I no longer felt brave or strong and felt almost completely at Frost’s mercy. I didn’t like it one bit.

To take my mind off these depressing and worrying thoughts I - once again - returned my gaze to the scenery outside my window, took a deep, slightly shaky breath, and considered the reason behind the  current state of things.

There was a good chance the Joker was dead.

There was also a chance he wasn’t.

I was in love with the Joker.

If – upon returning to Gotham city - he was dead I would be heart broken and at a complete loss as to what to do about it.

If he wasn’t, I would be suddenly confronted with a very much alive and – by the sounds of it – much more psychotic joker. And still at a complete loss as to what to do about it.

So I was going into this with no plan what so ever.

I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. How were we even going to find him? How did Frost know where he would be? Sure he must know the Joker’s hideouts, but what if they changed? What if he was dead? Where would he be then?

“Um, Frost?” I inquired, plucking up the courage to question him once more. He nodded slightly to show he was listening, “Uh – What – what are we doing?” I asked, “What’s the plan here?”

He paused a moment, as if considering the best way to explain it, “We are going back to Gotham to look for the Joker.” He stated matter-of-factly, almost as though I was just another henchman and he was briefing me on our mission.

“Yes…” I drew out, “But… um, how are we going to find him?” I asked, nervously fiddling with my fingers on my lap.

“Our best hope is he’s just laying low at the moment.” Frost informed me, “If that’s the case then there are several hideouts he may be at. We need to head to each one and search them.” He explained, keeping his eyes ahead, not looking at me once. “Hopefully we will find him. I we don’t we may at least get an idea of where he’s gone.”

“How many places are we talking?” I asked, wondering if he was referring to 3 buildings or 50.

“A lot.” He said simply. I gulped, there goes at least my next week probably – and I wasn’t sure how much time we had left – if any.

“That’ll take forever.” I pointed out.

“You got a better idea?” He asked sarcastically, raising one eyebrow and glancing over at me. I thought about it for a bit, turning away from him to watch the white road marks slide by as I thought. There had to be a better way, a quicker, more efficient way to do this. But how was I supposed to know?

And so I spent the rest of the drive pondering different options to keep my mind from other things.

At the airport I awkwardly followed Frost around, not really knowing what his plan was to get us on a plane that would leave within the next 30 minutes.

Somehow – god knows how but I believe it involved a large sum of money – he managed to secure us 2 tickets - both 1st class too, I noted as I glanced at the ticket he handed to me. How much money did this man have?!

I had never sat in first class before – surprise, surprise – and I felt like an imposter sat in their curtain off area in a plush reclining bed-chair, each with their own private screen. Why did we have to sit in 1st class?! It was like a half an hour flight – barely enough time to have the complimentary drink! I didn’t touch the sparkling water I order, too anxious to enjoy any of the luxuries that lay before me, instead I stared out the round little port hole window at the wispy clouds and blue sky, thinking about everything I would have to deal with when we eventually landed.

I was still hopeless trying to figure out a way we could find the Joker quicker – but how was I supposed to know what to do? I didn’t know their whole operation or how things ran – how was I going to know if there was a better idea? Sure, if Frost was talking to a henchman at least they would know a bit more about everything that went on – they might actually be able to give a useful sug-.

“Frost!” I called across the aisle, where he sat reading his phone screen. He looked up at me, frowning and clearly a bit surprised at my sudden wish to talk when I had been completely silent since we’d gotten out of the car. “Do you know any henchman that might have been with the Joker?” I asked hopefully.

“There were some guys still around when I left. Why?” he asked, crinkling his forehead in confusion.

“Could you ring any of them?” I inquired excited by my brain wave and not answering his question.

“I don’t have their numbers.” He informed me, returning his gaze to his phone, “It’s all part of security. No one has anyone numbers – expect the boss - in case anyone is caught and might compromise our operation.” He explained.

“Oh.” I mumbled, feeling deflated that my idea failed, but I supposed it made sense. “So how do you communicate?” I asked – just generally interested now.

“Radios.” He said simply without looking up.

“Ok…” I said, drawing it out as I tried to think of a way to rework my plan, “Do you know where any of them live?” He looked back up - seeming to be intrigued with where I was going with this

“Yeah. It’s my job to know.” He said matter-of-factly.

“Well, why don’t we go see a couple of them first?” I proposed, “Ask them if they have any ideas where to try? It might limit the number of sites we have to hit?” I suggested a bit nervously now – self-conscious by his full sudden full interest in what I was saying and worried it was a ridiculous idea – why else wouldn’t he have come up with it?

He seemed to consider if for a bit – looking for the flaws in my plan. “Yeah. Maybe.” He eventually admitted before once again becoming glued to his phone screen. We remained in silence for the rest of the flight.

I stuck to Frost like glue when we disembarked the plane – not entirely sure what we were going to do next. I followed him as we fought our way through those heading for luggage collection and out into a large main hall. Frost strode forward through the crowd, people parting before him, whilst I followed behind like a second shadow in the space left behind. I watched the people that milled around the large hall - men with briefcases, women in tight pencil skirts and heels, young children with brightly coloured rucksacks and crew members dressed in their varying uniforms.

Eventually the signs overhead seemed to suggest that Frost was leading me in the direction of taxis, trains, buses and car rentals and I soon found myself stepping out of the elevator into the airport’s multi-storey car park.

“Wait here.” Frost ordered me as we entered the third floor of parked cars. I frown at his back in confusion at his command as he continued to walk away from me, but did as he said – remaining by the entrance.

I watched him as he walked down past the row of cars, moving in and out of the small dim spotlights that illuminated small circles of the tarmac floor. He kept turning his head slightly either way as he checked the surroundings, finally stopping side of a SUV similar to what we had previously travelled in, although this one appeared to be a deep blue colour. He moved down the side of the car and stopped so he faced the driver’s door. I couldn’t see what he was doing as his actions hidden by the rows of cars between me and him, but he seemed to be fiddling with something in front him, his arms moving in jerks and tweaks.

All of a sudden he pulled back and then tried the car door, and I was amazed when it opened. Did he already have the keys for it? Then he slid into the driver’s seat and sat there for a few more moments appearing to now be toying with something in the car. All of a sudden the car’s engine roared and erupted into life. Was he stealing that car?!

He closed the driver’s door behind him and drove out of the space before pulling up next to me. When I didn’t move from my frozen state on the pavement he leant across the car to push open the passenger door. “Get in.” He grunted curtly at me. I hesitated only for a second before doing as instructed. He quickly accelerated away before I had even closed the door and I gripped my seat tightly to make sure I didn’t fly out of the chair as I heard the tyres screech beneath me.

When I finally felt secure, the door now closed and my seatbelt finally fastened, I turned to look at his profile as he drove out of the car park. “Did you just steal a car?!” I demanded.

“Didn’t have time to arrange one.” He said gruffly, not looking at me. When I didn’t say anything he glanced at me and must have noticed the shock still on his face, “Oh come on, you can’t be that surprised.” He muttered, clearly annoyed at how long it was taking for me to adjust to the fact that he was a criminal and therefore did criminal things.

I shook my head in amazement about how relaxed he was about what he had just done had, but decided there was no point in trying to get him to understand that his actions weren’t actually legal – this was probably not the first time he had done this, and I doubted it would be the last.

Instead I moved my gaze to the window, watching the different cars that lined us on either side slide past in the pools of artificial light, trying to come to terms with sitting in a stolen car and being yet another accomplice to a crime.

Eventually we emerged into the light of the day - though there wasn’t much of it.

Gotham was just exactly as I remembered it, as I gazed out of my tinted window, the same gloomy skies and dirty streets, the same noisy traffic rushing past and people pushing their way through crowds in their thick coats. Home I thought as Frost drove us through the streets, the tall imposing office buildings towering over us. It was home and I had truly missed it - only really realising it now that I was back in the comfort of its familiarity.

After having drunk in the sights around me I turned back to Frost, “So where are we going?”

[dominodebt]

ding dong duch is back (with original work sorry)

HI okay sorry I know I’ve been very inactive but like, first it was finals and then it was a car accident and now it’s legal stuff (nothing major just part of the car accident thing Duch ain’t going to jail) so I’m just trying to stay on top of everything.

I’ve still been writing but I’ve been on more of an original kick lately than fan stuff (although Blackwatch AU is going up friday so like look forward to that I guess) and I’m trying to put together a portfolio of original work since I already have a portfolio of like, news pieces and journalistic things I’ve done.

Long story short here’s a short little character study (which is ironically about cars and legal trouble) that I wrote to put in such a portfolio and was edited by the lovely @woestar and @ullsumbra. I figured I’d slap it up here just to assure everyone that I’m still here and I still write stuff.

I’ll be back with fan stuff soon don’t fret! Thanks for your patience kids <3

Ophelia sees the ticket—an obnoxious flash of pink against the pitch of her vehicle—and feels her carefully worked down anger spike again.

           Fuckin’ peachy.

           She strides forward, heels clicking against the concrete as she approaches her—illegally—parked car, chewing on a manicured nail, stewing.

           This whole night had been a fucking waste, to be honest. Not even Rose, who was in no way an optimist but rather an exceptionally brutal opportunist, admitted that there was nothing useful in Ophelia’s findings.

           And when Rose—who would probably be called a vulture if this whole city didn’t already have her pegged as a viper—says something’s useless, it’s not even good enough to wipe your ass with.

           So Ophelia had, in effect, wasted her time, her money, her composure, and a damn good outfit on a useless party that had yielded none of the promised results. And someone had ticketed her Lotus.

           Her goddamn Lotus.

           She’s pissed, she’s hungry, and she’s not nearly as drunk as she’d like to be.

           She’s also—the heiress notes with interest as she reaches the side of her car—being watched.

           She knows what it’s like to feel eyes on her, to the point where it’s easier to tell when no one’s looking at her than the opposite. Paparazzi, business partners, criminals, cops, complete strangers—Ophelia draws everyone’s eye for one reason or another. This one wants her fortune, that one wants her dress. Some assess her as a threat, some just see a striking young woman.

          The thing, Ophelia’s learned, is when you wear this many masks, you have to be able to don the right one at the right time.

          She lets her gaze drift to the polished passenger window of her prized Lotus, taking in the officer who’s lurking behind, watching her closely.

          So the question is: what part does she have to play for this cop to leave her the hell alone?

          “Evening, Officer,” she greets him, turning around before he can announce himself. She lets some extra sweetness melt into her words, honeying them as best she can when all she can think about is food, alcohol, and the ticket on the hood of her Lotus shoved up this guy’s ass.

          The officer freezes mid-step, dark eyes narrowing as he considers her abrupt greeting, before his expression clears and he finishes his movement, standing a healthy distance away, but now bathed in the streetlight they stand beside.

          “You saw my reflection in the window,” he notes, and Ophelia has to fight to keep her charming smile.

          Oh, a clever cop. Her favorite.

          “Actually, I have eyes in the back of my head,” is her smooth response, as she leans back against the body of her prized car, lifting her leg back to hook the stiletto heel on the rim of her front tire and make the edge of her cocktail dress ride up just enough to pique some interest.

          He lifts an eyebrow, eyes never straying from her face. Ophelia’s smile strains again.

          “I stuck around because I wanted to see who owned the car,” he explains. “Although now that I see who it is, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” A pause. “Your plates are bad.”

          Ophelia drops the sweet smile, this time letting a sly smirk play across her lips, changing tactics.

          “Trust me, my plates aren’t nearly the baddest thing about me.”

          It’s a line so soaked in forced sensuality and false mystique that Ophelia nearly gags on it. She could not be more obvious. It should garner some reaction, at least. She’d welcome a rejection at this point—anything to clue her into what persona she should try next.

          Because it’s not as though she can’t pay the ticket. It’s not even that she doesn’t want to pay the ticket. It’s the simple fact that this cop put his hands on her Lotus, and he’s gonna answer for it one way or another.

          But as his gaze remains impassive under her alluring stare, Ophelia starts to wonder if she should just cut her losses, flip him off, and call it a night.

          “I don’t doubt that,” he replies evenly, and Ophelia’s hands twitch with the desire to crack her fist against that calm fucking face of his. She’s a wealthy heiress, dressed to the nines, openly flirting with him.

          She gets it—she’s not everyone’s taste, whatever. But his stoicism in the face of her performance is starting to grate her.

          Even if said performance is sloppy and kinda half-assed. She’s hungry, okay?

          She shifts gears again, smoothly extricating the heel of her shoe from where she’d hooked it over the rim of her tire and takes a few steps to skirt around the front of her Lotus, letting her fingertips glide over the polished pitch paint.

          “So, you said you wanted to see who owned the car.” Ophelia arches an eyebrow at him, off-handedly feeling like one of those models that showcase cars on game shows. The thought makes her cocksure smirk flicker, but she holds it together. God she wants to be unconscious—blackout or asleep, she kinda doesn’t care at this point. “Like what you see?”

            To her smug satisfaction, his eyes finally leave her face—only to settle on the body of the Lotus.

           Oh, fuck her.

            “It’s nice,” he agrees, crossing his arms as his dark eyes scan the car. “I thought they discontinued the Series 1 in in the 90’s.”

            His casual classification of such an old, stupidly expensive vehicle—no really, Rose had almost murdered her when it had finally come out how much of her fortune she’d spent on the damn thing—gives Ophelia pause, and there’s an audible falter in her smooth stride as she makes her way around to the driver’s side, still watching him closely.

            She half considers dropping the sultry act now just to see how far she can get talking shop with him, but decides against it. She’s too far in to make such a drastic change, and she honestly doesn’t give a shit what he thinks about her car.

          She’s tired, irritated, and wants to make this cop eat this fucking ticket.

          Quirking an eyebrow when he lifts his gaze back up to hers, she notes he’s watching her just as closely. Though she admits it’s probably because he’s waiting for her to make some kind of move as opposed to any sexual intrigue.

            Her eyes sweep over his uniform. The dark navy stands out against his rather fair skin, and she can see a shock of black hair beneath the cap he wears, the bill of it casting a shadow that hides his eyes. His belt contains nothing surprising—Officer Asshole here is not the first or the last cop she’ll see, definitely in her lifetime, probably not even tonight. She searches for something to catch on, but all she ends up looking at is the tarnished SCPD badge pinned slightly crookedly to his chest, and the nameplate fixed beside it.

           J. Zharkov

           “They did discontinue it,” she murmurs, smoothly picking up their conversational thread as she puts the Lotus between them, gazing at him over the roof. “But some things are too good to let go of, you know?”

          She plays her last card—a certain half-smile she couples with lowered lashes and an alluring tilt to her head. She’s honestly found more success in coercing people with the charming look than with flashing her gun.

          Although…Ophelia tips her stare down to the window of her car, knowing damn well such a gun is currently resting in the glove box. She could always try that—

          “You parked illegally.” The cop’s voice is low and terse—not a glimmer of interest in his dark eyes when Ophelia snaps her gaze back to his. “That ticket’s for two hundred bucks.”

          Ophelia’s fingers tense like harpy talons where she’d been skating them aimlessly across the smooth finish of her Lotus as her frisky façade melts away and her expression darkens with anger. Bullshit.

          “Fucking Christ man!” Ophelia steps back, no longer draping herself over the car, hands on her hips. “There are like, forty illegally parked cars here!” she waves a dark hand down the street, at the mass of cars all parked exactly like hers. Everyone parks illegally on Scape Street. And granted, her car is easily the most ostentatious, but still.

          “Did you give any of them tickets?” She swings her gaze around to the car parked behind her—some Ford model or another, ugly as sin—and her jaw tightens at the distinct lack of a ticket on its windshield.

            His lips twitch and she feels her ire rise. Oh, so that got him to smile, huh? Jackass.

            “I’ll get around to it,” he offers, shrugging casually in a way that tells Ophelia he will not, in fact, get around to it and she is the only one in a ten-mile radius getting fucked right now. And it isn’t even the good kind of fucked. Jesus.

            “You’re an ass,” she tell him shortly. She has two hundred dollars on her person right now easy—but it’s the principle of the thing.

           He quirks an eyebrow—the most emotion he’s displayed all night.

           “Just trying to do my job, ma’am.” He tips his hat then, and Ophelia wants to punch him square in the throat. “To serve and protect.”

           Ophelia chokes down a scoff. She’s not giving him the satisfaction, no fucking way.

           “Well, you’re doing a swell job there, rookie,” she drawls back, snapping him a sarcastic salute before leaning across the car to snatch the ticket off her windshield. She locks eyes with him as she does so, pulling on her least-liked mask. The one her parents used to wear.

           “Don’t ever touch my car again, okay? I don’t care how many laws it’s breaking. You see this—” she raps a knuckle against the polished pitch-black hood of her Lotus. “—you keep fuckin’ walking. Got it?”

           He gazes back at her impassively. “Not sure you really get to make that call, miss,” he answers. His voice doesn’t betray a shred of anxiety. Ophelia’s gaze hardens.

           “Yeah? Must be new in town.” She pulls back, making a show of crushing the ticket in her fist while making direct eye contact with him.

           She’s still gonna get it settled—mostly because Rose will absolutely eat her alive if she gives local authorities any reason to poke around in their affairs—but for the moment allows herself to smile at the sound of crumpling paper.

           “Do some research,” she suggests then. Her Lotus chirps as she unlocks it, pulling the door open and lifting an eyebrow at him as she climbs in. “Talk to some of your cop buddies. Poll the department. Ask them if they think it’s a good idea to pick a fight with a girl driving a car like this.”

           Her Lotus is legendary in Saint Cloud—it’s part of her pride, her image. Bad things usually follow its engine’s roar. Everyone knows it—the police department especially.

           She tosses the crumpled remains of her ticket into the cupholder and is about to slam the door and rev the engine for all she’s fucking worth when she sees him draw closer to the passenger side window, and her lips pull back in an honest to god snarl when he braces his forearm against the top of it, looking down at her through the tinted glass.

           Eyes narrowed, she rolls it down, giving him a flat glare.

           “Make it quick, rookie, or you aren’t getting that arm back,” she warns him.

           He looks right at her, and Ophelia lifts her chin.

           “I’ve lived in this city my whole life, Ms. Lévesque,” he tells her; voice that same timbre as before—as steady and solid as a heartbeat. “I don’t really scare all that easy.”

           Ophelia scoffs, rolling her eyes. Dramatic one-liners. Great.

           And a local. Even better. She glances at him sideways, trying to place his age, wondering if he’d been around back when her parents ran things.

           She eventually decides—with the flippancy of a flipped coin—she doesn’t give a shit, and turns back to the road, turning the key and letting the engine roar to life.

           “But you do scare,” she tells him off-handedly, not really caring if he’s listening or not. She throws the car into reverse, glances in her rear-view mirror, resists the urge to slam into the unticketed Ford parked behind her. “Easy or not. Everyone does.”

You can tell me what you think or you can totally ignore? Either way have a good one kids

[rainygalaxynerd]

Brave New World - Chapter 56

Warnings: Mentions of torture/hell. Angst.

Summary: BABY’S BACK.

Word count: App 2340

Soundtrack: Led Zeppelin, Ramble On.

A/N: I give up. Caitlin and Dean will never behave and follow the outline. I’ll just leave them to it and tell you guys all about their hi-jinx.

This is part of a chapter story. Link to mobile friendly master list here.

Tagging:  @jotink78 @fangirling-instead-of-working @kbrand0 @twenty-onepages @jencharlan @vibou25 @mrsjohnsmith @winchesterprincessbride @deandoesthingstome @littlegreenplasticsoldier

“Sam, I swear to God, the next time you go three days straight without bleeding from your ears Imma smack your head so hard you’ll think the visions are back, you hear?”

“Sorry, bro, can’t hear you.” Sam guffawed at Dean’s look of utter outrage and frustration.

Eventually, the tension slipped out of Dean. The corners of his mouth twitched and soon he was laughing along with Sam.

Chapter 56 - Hot and Cold

The night was clear, the milky way a bright blur above them, as they drove west. Dean hummed to himself, a smirk firmly in place as he sped across the state.

Caitlin divided her attention between the spark of anticipation in his eyes and the starry sky. She recognized the tune he hummed as Ramble On. “What happens after tomorrow?”

Dean glanced at her, good mood forgotten. “If we survive, you mean?”

Caitlin had her hands on her thighs and she squeezed them so hard her nails bit into her skin. “Yeah.”

“Whatever happens, you keep talking to Morgan and his team. You help them put those bastards behind bars.”

“But what about…”

“Then you figure out what you want from life and you grab it. Go back to Seattle, become a doctor. Buy a turkey farm. Do what you dream.” Dean kept his eyes on the road as he spoke, his voice gruff.

“What about you?”

“I’m a hunter. I’m gonna hunt.” He threw her a quick smile. “It’s the family business.”

The car was quiet for long minutes. Dean went back to humming, sometimes singing the words. Only as he reached the end of the song did Caitlin realize he was changing the lyrics.

“Gonna ramble on, sing my song, gotta keep slaying evil Gonna work my way ‘round the world, until something stops the beating of my heart. Taking good care of my baby. I gotta save the world.” His eyes were on the road, fingers drumming against the wheel, that expectant smile back in place.

Caitlin swallowed against the lump in her throat and turned to watch the night fly by through the passenger window. Addition to the old saying about men being either full of shit or taken: Sometimes they’re perfect and single and completely obsessed with being fucking heroes and getting themselves bloody killed. She wiped her tears away as if simply rubbing her eyes, lacking sleep. Why do I even care. It’s not like I’ve got anything to offer him. It’s not like I ever wanted someone by my side. Caitlin closed her eyes but her tears escaped anyway.

Sam had convinced Cas to help him gather supplies and teleport the two of them into a high school lab. They were testing their fourth attempt at a Molotov containing borax.

“Maybe we should use tar instead of oil,” Sam mused.

“Maybe we could try distilled alcohol instead of gasoline,” Cas suggested.

Sam sighed. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

Cas nodded. “It would have been useful if Father had put more knowledge of battling Leviathans into his work.”

Sam stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. “Cas.”

“Yes, Sam?”

“Never, ever, ever, tell Dean we wasted over an hour of our time before I did this.”

Cas nodded solemnly as Sam closed his eyes and let his mind surge through the divine words written on his soul.

Minutes later, Sam gasped and blinked against the harsh lights in the lab. “Salt. Borax is a salt.” He went to the supply cupboards and rummaged through them until he found what he was looking for. He smiled. “We mix borax crystals with rock salt and then we make our usual shotgun shells. I can’t wait to see the surprise on their faces when the pain sets in.”

Dean pulled the tarp from the Impala with a grand gesture, torn between monitoring Caitlin’s reaction and taking in the sleek, black lines of his Baby, finally.

“She’s beautiful.” Caitlin watched Dean run his hands over the smooth surface. Lucky Luke and Jolly Jumper, Han Solo and the Millennium Falcon, Michael Knight and KITT. Dean and Baby.

“Look,” Dean said, opening the passenger door and pointing. “We carved our initials there when we were like nine and four. Dad was livid.”

The letters D.W. and S.W. were carved in clumsy capital letters. Caitlin looked askance from Dean and opened the door at his nod to run her fingers over the scratches.

“How old is she?” The pronoun slipped in easily. Baby wasn’t just a well-kept classic. She had something undefinable, qualifying her as more than a mere object - even if she lacked actual sentience.

“She’s a ‘67. Dad bought her in ‘73. She’s been in the family ever since.” Dean smiled fondly as he slid behind the wheel with a deep satisfied sigh. “I missed you so much, Baby.” He stroked the soft, worn leather seat, caressed the wheel reverently. He grinned at Caitlin. “Get in, let’s take her for a spin.”

There was an impression in the seat’s padding on the passenger side. Caitlin ran her hands along its sides as she sat in the center. Sam-shaped.

Dean turned the key and begged his Baby to be good, even after standing still for so long. She didn’t let him down. The engine roared to life and Dean grinned at Caitlin.

He had been driving fast on the way there, but now, with the Impala once again an extension of himself, he put the pedal to the metal for real, cutting corners, occasionally drifting through the curves.

Caitlin gripped the edge of her seat and held on. Her pulse quickened and her breath hitched whenever they entered a curve seemingly too fast to make it. Dean chuckled at her every time, his hands on the wheel steady and sure, shoulders relaxed, mouth wide open in a happy grin. Gradually, Caitlin relaxed her grip and smiled.

“Is there something wrong with the ventilation? It rattles.”

“Nope, it’s just legos. Dad wasn’t too happy about them either.”

Caitlin frowned. “You and Sam played with legos in the car and got them stuck in the ventilation without your Dad noticing?”

Dean shrugged and slowed down to something resembling the speed limit. “Mom died when I was four. Dad took up hunting. We were all over the states, wherever the hunt took him. We stayed run-down motel rooms and condemned houses when funds ran low. The Impala and Dad were the only constants, you know? She was home. Still is.”

Dean glanced over to find Caitlin running a hand over the dash, lips pursed in thought. When she finally met his eyes, he found no pity in them. “Aren’t you gonna tell me how sorry you are that we grew up like that?”

“You don’t sound sorry.” The ghost of a smile settled across her lips.

“I’m not.” He smiled back at her, swallowing against a sudden tightness in his throat. She gets it. How can she get it, just like that?

“Good.” Her smile grew wider. Her hand stretched toward him but stopped short before touching.

Dean caught it in his right hand and tangled their fingers together, resting against his thigh.

She scooted closer to him, as close as her seatbelt allowed. “Are you scared?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Of what?” He clasped her hand a little tighter. “This?”

“Tomorrow, doofus.” Caitlin’s eyes were wide as she chuckled, low and bitter. “But I guess I have my answer now, and then some.”

Dean let Baby freewheel and when she had lost enough speed, he pulled her onto the shoulder of the road. He used his left hand to pull the parking brake. He turned to Caitlin, serious.

“I really suck at this stuff, Caitie, but I’m pretty sure you got it wrong.”

He opened his mouth to continue and nothing else came out. She watched him, waited for him to explain, her brown eyes darkened with a mixture of sadness and anger. “I’m not good enough for you,” he said. He looked down at their joined hands, biting his tongue. Not exactly what I meant to say. Is it the whiskey talking? Fuck, I’m not even a little bit drunk.

Her free hand came up to trace his jawline, rest against his cheek. “Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?”

He caught her hand and brought it down between them, the touch too gentle, too intimate. Swallowing, he backtracked to what he had meant to say. “I’ve faced a lot of big, badass monsters. Me and Sam, we’ve fought often enough with the odds against us. We’ve faced death and we’re still here, doing our thing. So while I’m worried about tomorrow, at least I know the drill.”

Dean slowly raised his eyes to Caitlin’s, wide and sincere. “But sitting here, in this car, holding hands with someone, and it’s not about a quick tour to a quiet spot for a good time in the back seat, that’s… I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t be doing this.”

A shiver ran through Caitlin. An itch, the need to run and hide and never look back. Not because he wasn’t good enough, of course he was, he was too good, way too good. Terror crawled up her spine because this was the point of no return. She should run, had to, get away, flee. She couldn’t move, frozen with his hands around hers, his eyes filled with the same terror she felt and… hope.

Trembling, she leaned forward. Dean met her before she got halfway, his lips soft and warm and hungry.

Dean buried his hands in her hair, sucked her tongue into his mouth to taste more of her. He made happy, hungry noises deep in his throat, pushed against her, pulled at her, until she obligingly undid her seatbelt and straddled his lap. “Mmm,” he groaned, hips thrusting upward, one hand leaving her head to claw under her shirt, slide over smooth skin, grab and knead.

Caitlin took everything he gave her. The shaking had stopped. Dean’s mouth, Dean’s hands, Dean’s dick rubbing against her. Nothing else existed. The fingers behind her head flexing, strong, holding her in place, holding her close. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, no hesitation, licked over her teeth, the roof of her mouth, moaned, caught her lower lip between his teeth and nipped her. Every thrust of his hips ground the seam on her jeans over her clit, painful and addictive.

She had to grab his head with both hands and pull hard to speak. “Wait.”

Dean blinked, expression dazed and almost hurt, mouth open, panting.

“This doesn’t change anything, does it? Tomorrow you and Sam will still ride into the sunset, won’t you?”

“I… guess.” Dean gave her pleading look. “Not gonna stop hunting. ‘s the family business. ‘s all we have left.”

“I’d come with you.”

He stiffened under her, pushed her back, away from his aching cock. “It’s too dangerous.”

“You’ll visit then, when you’re in the neighborhood?”

Dean looked away, throat working hard. Lisa and Ben were kidnapped because I cared about them. This is so much worse. “I’m sorry. Caitlin, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything, I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Caitlin’s eyes narrowed. “You just wanted a nice fuck before heading into battle, then?”

Dean let out a huff of breath, eyes wide and wounded. “I meant every word.” He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. “But I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I can’t care about anyone, I’m poison. Sooner or later you’ll end up dead because of me.”

“Jesus Christ, Dean, how many times to we have to go through this? I know, okay? I know that knowing you paints a target on my back and I’m okay with it. Get it into your stubborn head that you’re worth it. Whatever this is between us, whatever happens, it’s worth it.”

“No!” Dean pushed Caitlin off and got out of the car.

She followed wordlessly, until he stopped, facing a copse of trees, branches moving gently in the breeze.

“I don’t know what you see in me but you’re fooling yourself. Whatever this is between us is gonna kill you, and I… If you knew the things I’ve done, you’d understand. I’m not worth it, Caitie.”

“Yeah? Then tell me. Tell me so I can let you go. Stop pushing me away and let me decide what to do.”

Dean scoffed. “What, you want me to just spill the beans, tell you everything about all my biggest fuck-ups?”

“Yes!”

“Can’t you just trust me on this?”

“If you don’t give me a reason not to stick by you, I’m not gonna stop.”

“Son of a bitch.” He scowled at her. “We don’t actually have all night, you know.”

She gave him a lopsided smile. “Then start with the worst and work your way from there.”

Dean drew in a long shuddering breath. “Fine. Fine. I’ll do just that.” He took a few steps away from her, crossing his arms and watching the trees in the distance.

“My Dad died because of me. He sold his soul and went to hell to save me. I hated him for that, for putting that on me. I should’ve been dead and he should’ve been alive. You’d think I’d learn something from that, right? But when Sammy died... “ Dean turned to look her dead in the eyes. “...I did the exact same thing for him. I sold my soul so he could live and when my year was up, I didn’t even have the good grace to go quietly. I died kicking and screaming right in front of him.”

Caitlin swallowed. Even after everything, comprehending that hell was real and coming back from the dead was possible, wasn’t easy.

“They torture you in hell,” Dean continued, looking away again. “They cut you into a million pieces over and over and mess with your mind. Time moves differently from here, every month is like a decade.”

“I’m still waiting for the awful stuff that’ll make me hate you.” She put a hand on his shoulder but he shook it off.

“Every day for thirty years, I was given a choice. They’d stop torturing me if I’d do to others what they were doing to me.” Dean ran a hand over his face, moonlight catching wetness before he wiped it away. “I was in hell for four months, Caitie.”