#but yeah i think a lot about how these three all had some unconventional beginning....

[angstandhappiness]

INTERESTING nice art! Intricate and fascinating

tell me, how is a god made?

[cyncerity]

alien terrarium au!!

here it is! i said it’d be today, so it’s done! 1 min before it becomes tomorrow!

minor thing, tho: this is extremely unedited. like, there are a lot of things i post that aren’t edited fully, but i didn’t even fully read this one in one sitting. but i’m not free again until this tuesday or wednesday, so i’m not gonna make you guys wait that long lol

basically it’s midnight and i’m way too fucking busy so i’m gonna post it and edit it when i have time to later in the week. if you wanna wait for the fully edited version, ignore this until i specify that I edited it. if you don’t care, i hope you enjoy! this has been an on again off again thing for a few weeks and i’m so glad to finally have it like 95% done :)

tw: soft safe vore, unconventional vore ig?

“We have to cut our losses here. We don’t have enough to fund this any longer, and there’s no one we can reach out to for more money. We can’t risk this getting out.” “Fine, I- I know, it’s just…this is a breakthrough. We can’t afford to give up now.” “We won’t. We just need some time to get back on our feet is all. Besides, he knows what to do now…” the scientists turned their heads to the one way mirror they stood behind. A little boy, barely a teenager, sat behind it on his bed, his eyes glassy and unblinking, turned a glossy pearlescent white. Their project, practically their life’s work. Well, the container for it, anyway.

***

Wilbur heard the three scientists come into the room, and somehow registered one of them motion vaguely with their hand despite his eyes being effectively turned off, which meant they wanted him back in their world. Ugh. Still, he cut off his thoughts with his practically other half, eyes beginning to function again and the scientists approaching him as they saw his eyes shift back to the colors they were supposed to be.

“Wilbur, what we’re going to tell you is very, very important, so you have to listen carefully. It’s your life at stake if this goes wrong. And his.” The one in blue said, gesturing to Wilbur’s torso. Well, that was certainly a way to get his attention. Wilbur didn’t say a word, though; the green one didn’t like it when he ‘sassed them,’ so he instead scooted back and placed both arms protectively around himself and his…what did they call him once, ‘cargo’? He was sure he heard Green call him a ‘parasite’ once, which was rude. Still, they must have noticed his panic, cause the orange one responded immediately. “It’ll all be ok, things will just have to change for a minute here. You’re…youre not going to be able to stay here for a while.” “What?!” Wilbur said, unable to restrain himself. The green one went to speak up but was silenced by blue, who just whispered something about him being ‘scared’ and how this was ‘probably a lot to handle.’ Yeah, no shit it was!

“I get this is a huge change, I do, but it’s necessary for now. We don’t have the necessary resources to keep taking care of you here. We need to find a way to keep you safe and healthy, both of you. You’ll be staying somewhere secure while we find somewhere more reclusive to hide you. We don’t want anyone finding out anything and putting the two of you in danger.” Orange said, sitting next to Wilbur and rubbing a thumb across his knuckles. Right. Right, he had a purpose. And if part of his purpose was to survive without his caretakers for a short while, he could do it. If it meant safety for his stowaway, he could do it.

“You doin ok, bud?” Orange asked, and Wilbur nodded slightly. Orange was his favorite of the main three. He was always nice, and even gave him extra treats when he was behaving! “When do you think you can be ready to leave, Wil?” Green asked, crouching to be at level with where he sat. “Whenever you need me to be, sir.” Green smiled and ruffled his hair. Wil always tried to be extra good for Green. It’s not like he didn’t like him, it’s just that Green was more likely to yell at him if he messed up. “Good kid. We’ll leave tomorrow morning and introduce you to who you’ll be staying with. Try to get some rest.” He said, smiling before leaving and leading the other two out with him.

***

“Sam! Hey buddy!” Dream said, jumping out of the side of his van and running over to his old friend. “Dream! How’ve you been?” “Pretty good, you?” “Doin pretty good myself.” Sam replied, pulling Dream in for a hug. “So, who’s this kid you found?” “Calls himself Wilbur. We found him a few months ago, but we’re a bit short on money right now and can’t handle another mouth to feed. He won’t stay here for long, promise, just till we find a more stable income.” Dream hated to lie to an old friend, but he couldn’t afford his secret to be leaked. “I’m always lookin to help out, especially for a friend. Anything I need to know about him?”

“Yeah, he’s a bit of an odd one, but that’s what we love about him.” Dream chuckled, hoping his friend was still oblivious. “He disassociates a lot. Like, constantly, and tends to get really upset if people try to mess with him when he’s like that. He also doesn’t do a lot of physical activity. Bruises take longer to heal for him, he gets sore easily, and his immune system doesn’t handle cuts well. He’s not very talkative, and he’s got some weird scars all over him. We think the two are connected, but we don’t know what this kid has been through.” Dream finished, and Sam nodded solemnly. Great, he was taking the bait. He was less likely to ask questions if he thought he was prying into the past of an abused child.

meanwhile, in the van…

“We found you abandoned. You’re just staying here until we get more stable jobs and can afford to feed you again. If he ever asks you about where you came from, you look away or change the subject as quickly as possible. You don’t know why you disassociate. You don’t know where the scars came from. Never do any of your caretaker necessities for him in front of Sam. He can’t know. Got it?” “Got it. He’ll never know.” Blue nodded back. Orange had just kind of been pacing in the van as Blue gave him the rundown again. Green came back to the van with a hand out towards Wilbur, giving him a reassuring smile.

Wilbur was about to take the hand before his arm got tugged and he was pulled into a hug from behind. A gentle one, obviously no one wanted to risk damaging what was inside of him, but a hug all the same. He didn’t get many of those. When the person pulled away he saw it was Orange, who was smiling proudly. “You’re gonna be fine kid. We believe in you. I’ll miss you, ok?” Wilbur just smiled back and nodded. “I’ll miss you, too. We both will.” He said before taking Dreams hand and walking outside with him.

***

It had been an…odd week with Wilbur in Sam’s opinion. Firstly, he’d been way more interested in things like trees and grass than any normal child would be, but refused to touch them. He also spent 95% of his time in the guest bedroom with the door locked, never making a sound. Who knows, maybe the kid just liked to sleep. He refused to play any sort of physical game, like Dream had warned him, but he seemed overly cautious of anything that could hurt him. But he wouldn’t pry, that wasn’t his job. His job was to take care of the kid until Dream, George, and Sapnap could take him back. Right?

That’s what he was supposed to do, but somehow, against all logic…he knew this kid. The giant brown eyes, the curly brown hair, his face shape, it was all so familiar. But why?

Until it hit him.

He’d woken up in a cold sweat, immediately racing to his computer to see if he was right. And his suspicions were confirmed, against all odds. There, on his friends facebook page, was a photo of him and his young son. His young son who was Wilbur’s age. His young son who used to have an identical twin brother who went missing when he was just a few years old.

Sam knew Wilbur’s face because Wil wasn’t the only person he knew with that face.

Sam wasted no time calling. He must’ve called 12 times before someone answered, which was fair given the ungodly hour, but this was urgent. “What the fuck, Sam…” and groggy voice answered. “Mate, it’s, like, 4 in the morning, what could possibly be this important-”

“Phil, I think I found your son.”

***

Breakfast was different the next morning. Wilbur walked downstairs only to see two strangers sitting at Sam’s table, one an adult and one a child around his age. The adult looked about as old as Sam, which was to say a bit older than his scientists. He had blonde hair and kind blue eyes, and was wearing a dark green sweater jacket over a white button up. The other had long pick hair pulled back into a loose messy braid and glasses almost reminding Wil of his own except square instead of circular. He wore a simple pink hoodie and dirtied jeans and surprisingly clean white sneakers, but he must have been staring, cause soon the kid looked over to him and-

Wilbur’s breath froze.

Why…why did this kid have his face?

At this point, the man had looked over to, and immediately shot up from where he was sitting, knocking over the chair he was sitting on in the process and making Wilbur flinch. “Orpheus?” Wilbur stared blankly for a few moments before the man rushed him, barely giving him time to react before he was pulled into a hug.

Not a gentle one like Orange knew to give. Not one given by someone that knew why so few people were even allowed to touch him. A lung crushing, tight hug that was unbelievably painful after so much time with such infrequent gentle touching. He rarely found his mind drifting back to his the feeling of cargo in him, given that he’d lived most of his life with him and had gotten used to the odd sensations, but now it was impossible to ignore. Everything in him, everything that had been worked on so diligently, everything that had been removed and replaced and rearranged to make him perfect for his purpose, and his stowaway inside were being crushed. His purpose, the thing he’d been raised to protect, his only true constant in his life, was being crushed. It was the most horrifying downpour of fear he’d ever felt.

Wilbur screamed.

He screamed bloody murder as the adult let go and backed away, eyes wide. Wilbur vaguely noticed that both the strangers were crying, but he didn’t care. Wilbur only stopped screaming once his air was gone and now replaced by jagged breathing and spasms in his lungs. He felt like he was about to collapse as his vision darkened and his limbs began shaking. He needed to know if he was ok. If he wasn’t, Wilbur would never forgive himself. He needed to know.

“Kiddo, I need you to take deep breaths, ok, I think you’re having a panic a-“ “Stay the hell away from me! All of you!!” Wilbur screamed, voice hoarse as he smacked Sam’s hand away and ran up to his guest room and locked the door. He sat on the bed with a thud and tried to stop his shaking, but couldn’t spare much time for that since he had to make sure his cargo was still ok. He needed him to be ok. God, he was still just a kid, even younger than Wilbur. He can’t have let him get hurt.

He tried to take deep breaths and reached his mind out to some foreign instinct he knew. He wasn’t sure what it was, or how it came so easily, but it was such a central part of his brain that he could find it with ease. The second he got close to it, his whole body relaxed involuntarily. He hadn’t done that, which only meant…

“Oh, Tommy, thank god.” Wilbur sighed out loud, though the rest was said just to Tommy in the special way only they could communicate. He felt Tommy slow his heart rate more as he felt like he was being sucked away from his body into a void that words couldn’t possibly describe. “Wilbur!” a voiced called out. It hadn’t come from anywhere, just everywhere, like Wilbur’s did when he was here. Wherever ‘here’ was. He didn’t really know. It wasn’t like a darkness or white area, it was just…nothing. Not a nothingness that couldn’t be seen, but felt. Devoid of anything that could make it describable. Wilbur liked to joke that it was the emptiness in Tommy’s brain. “What was all that outside? You know i’ve got se-“ “Sensitive hearing, I know. I was being loud. Sorry.”

Wilbur could basically see Tommy huff and roll his eyes, despite the fact that he’d never seen Tommy at all. He knew every detail of his little brother friend, and Tommy knew every detail of Wilbur. Despite neither of them being able to see in their respective nothings, somehow they could sense every “move” (aka the movement they imagined themselves making since they didn’t have bodies in the nothingness) the other made in the void. Also Tommy can sometimes see through Wil’s eyes to look at reflections, but he rarely does that. Green doesn’t like when he does that.

Still though, he knew Tommy. He may not know what he looks like perfectly, but he knew Tommy. In an odd sense, he knew his details, but never what he truly looked like. He could list the facts of how Tommy was, but he had a feeling of deja vu whenever he tried to imagine a face or any detailed image of his body. He never could, he just knew the facts, like he’d seen Tommy but the detailed image in his brain had been removed and blurred beyond recognition. It seemed kind of unfair to him, given that Tommy knew exactly what he looked like because of the shared vision things and mirrors existing.

Still, though, he knew the pale white-blue of his skin the bright blonde of his hair and otherworldly accents. The shining, almost glowing iridescence of his eyes and the strange markings found on his body. He was mostly humanoid, which had initially shocked Wilbur and the scientists. Orange had warned him once that since they had no idea what Tommy was, something inhuman and vicious could easily rip through him. It scared him a little, but at that point he’d seen Tommy’s egg once and had grown monumentally attached, lethal beast creature or not. But Tommy was humanoid, except for one thing; he didn’t have legs. Rather, he had a long predominately red scaly tail like a snake.

When Wilbur was first getting used to Tommy’s being in there, the hardest thing to deal with was one: the odd feeling of scales against his sensitive organs and two: Tommy was almost always cold. How he could stay shockingly chilly in almost 100° Wilbur didn’t know, but that’s probably a big factor on why Tommy couldn’t be in open air; he’d freeze to death. Or his aversion to any form of light (maybe that was an understatement: a dim lamp 2 rooms over could kill him). But besides that, his unnatural colors, and a few other random snake-like features, Tommy was far from the horrific deep space lovecraftian monster he or the scientists were expecting. He was more just a little person who also happened to be a snake from space. No biggie.

“I- I don’t know what happened down there. There’s…there’s these two people, and one looks exactly like me and the other called me the wrong name and rushed to hug me and I panicked cause I thought he hurt you. You’re not hurt, are you?” “I’m right as rain, mr. human man. I’m sturdier than you think. Er, well, you’re sturdy and I’m in here so yeah I’m good.” Tommy responded, letting out an unearthly mix of a rumble and a hiss as he did. Wilbur liked Tommy’s weird alien noises, it comforted him. He sighed. “Still, I should’ve been more careful-“

“No you shouldn’t have! Stop bein a..a uh…” he paused for a minute to mumble a series of his weird Tommy noises before starting again. “what’s the english word for someone who takes blame for no reason and thinks that they need to solve every problem ever cause somehow everything is their fault?” “I think you’re talking about a martyr complex.” “Stop have’n a martyn complex!” Tommy yelled back, making Wilbur laugh. He pressed a hand against where he felt Tommy within himself, in one of the open areas that had been cleared just for him. Tommy pressed back and started to purr, a common reflex for him when he was happy, excited, or just needed to comfort Wilbur.

Even if Wilbur’s and Tommy’s consciouses were in the nothingness, they could still feel their body’s and move a little bit, even if it was more difficult than when they were awake. Wilbur liked to think of it as the same type of gesture that his scientists would do when they rubbed his hair or gave him a side hug, something he would love to try but could never do with Tommy. He thought Tommy deserved to have his hair played with or to be hugged, but it could never happen. But the pressing in, the only amount of intentional contact they’ve ever had and could ever have, worked just fine as a replacement. Something comforting and quick to show he cared. Of course, Tommy knew he cared, they’ve lived together (well, one within the other, but same difference) for most of Wilbur’s life and all of Tommy’s.

“Still, though…i don’t know what to do. Sam hasn’t had anyone else over, i don’t know what they’re doing here.” “I’d say good old fashion spying, then. See if you can get closer and make out what they’re saying.” “Good idea-“ Wilbur said, beginning to break off the connection before Tommy shouted out. “Wait! Aren’t you gonna let me see?” Wilbur rolled his eyes and somehow, in a way he couldnt describe, let Tommy’s weird telekinetic force into his mind. He opened his eyes and he was back in his room, the nothingness vanished and his body back in his full control. He looked to his mirror and sure enough, the shiny white gloss that overtook his eyes when talking to Tommy had confined itself to just Wilbur’s pupils. He’d given Tommy access.

“There, is that better?” Wilbur asked quietly, unable to respond telepathically when not in his weird zoned out state. The lack of that void didn’t seem to pose an issue for Tommy, though, as Wilbur heard an enthusiastic “Yup!” mixed with a few alien chirps echo through his mind as a response. Wil nodded to his reflection (and Tommy by proxy) and went to the stairs. He probably didn’t need to go down, he just needed to be able to hear them.

***

Ok that was, in hindsight, a bad decision.

“‘Dad?!’ I have a dad!? And a brother!?!” Wilbur whisper yelled, pacing back and forth across his room. With Sam and the now-not-so-much-strangers still talking in their kitchen, he figured it’d be safe to talk outside of the mind void. Tommy, meanwhile, laid himself against the front of Wilbur’s storage, rubbing circles into the walls to try and calm him down. “Maybe that’s not so horrible! I mean, you’re not an orphan! That’s normally a good thing, right?” Tommy said skeptically.

“Maybe it would have been 9 years ago! But now I have you!” Wilbur said, stopping to sit on his bed and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I don’t know them. I don’t remember them at all; you’d think if they were a good family to me I’d at least recall that they existed. But I don’t. How could I ever trust them with knowing about you?” “I…I don’t know. But…you have a dad, Wil! And a brother! That’s not something you can just ignore! Neither of us know what it’s really like to have a family, maybe…you could learn for the both of us?”

Wilbur sighed. He knew Tommy was right. And they’d both wondered where their families were; if they missed their sons, if they even wanted to give them up in the first place, what ever happened to them. Wilbur always felt awful because Tommy would likely never know. The odds that his parents were even still alive were slim, and it’s not like he ended up on earth with very specific instructions on how to take care of him by accident. But Wilbur had never thought his family could show up, either, yet here they were.

“What do we do about the trio?” “You know how I feel about them. Let’s see if those two are any better.” To be fair, Wil did know how Tommy felt about them; he didn’t like them at all. Tom didn’t like the tests they ran on him, he didn’t like what they put Wil through in order to do tests on him, he didn’t like how they treated his big brother caretaker as the less important one in their experiments, and he didn’t like how damn nosy they were. That part even bugged Wilbur. How the hell did they expect Tommy to be able to explain so much about what he was? He’d never met anyone like himself either, he’d been hatched on earth!

“Well, at least we know them. They’re predictable, and we know they have our best intentions at heart. Our. They know how to help the both of us and I- I don’t know if I can do all this alone.” “Wilbur you haven’t been alone since the day I was born. You’re not gonna start now.”

“What if something happens to you and I don’t know how to fix it? It’s my job to make sure nothing bad happens to you. I couldn’t live with myself if I let myself get caught up in some familial adventure and you ended up getting hurt because of it.” “I get it but don’t you think that’s unfair?” Wilbur paused. “Wh..what do you mean ‘unfair’?” “We’re kids. You’re a kid. It sucks for you that I’m your responsibility, it’s unfair that you gave up your childhood to keep me safe. But you can get it back, some of it, at least. Just…see if this can work out. If not for you, then for me. I hate seeing you put yourself on the back burner like this, Wil, I hate it. I can’t stand that i’m the reason you can’t have friends or play or be a kid. But this could change that. If it can’t, we’ll go to whatever lab the trio puts us in next. I’m sure they’ll be sooo thrilled that you’ve met your family.”

“Tommy don’t say those things about yourself.” Wilbur said, hugging his arms around himself. “I chose to take care of you, and I’ve never regretted it. Not for a second. You’re worth everything I willingly gave up, ok?” He heard a disgruntled noise in response. “Fine, we’ll come back to this conversation later. For now…ok. I’ll..I’ll give them a shot-” He heard Tommy cheer with a mix of wooing and trilling that he made when he was excited “-but Sam obviously knows the trio, so i’m sure he’ll tell them about my family at some point if he hasn’t already.” “I figured, but what are they gonna do? They can’t take you if you want to stay.” “Emphasis on if I want to stay, remember?” “Got it, bossman.”

“Wilbur?” He heard a voice outside call while knocking before the door opened a crack. “Were you…talking to someone..?” Sam said, poking his head in through the gap a bit. “Uh, no, I just..uh..kinda talk to myself sometimes. But I’m, uh, I’m sorry.” Wilbur said, trying to move past his previous conversation as quickly as possible. The less Sam questioned why he was talking to an empty room, the better. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that, I just…don’t like being touched.” Not exactly true, but if it would keep the blonde guy and his clone from touching him it could be the truth for a while. Sam just solemnly nodded. “I’m sorry, I told him about you and how you were just kinda found with no memories, but…I don’t think he believed that your amnesia was as bad as I told him it was. I don’t think it hit him that you really didn’t know him until you ran off…Wil, he’s-” “He’s my dad, apparently. I was eavesdropping, i heard you talking downstairs.” Sam stared wide eyed for a second before he nodded solemnly.

“I know this must be a lot. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by calling them here, you obviously didn’t expect to meet your long lost family while you stayed for the month. But…I’ve been friends with Phil for a while. That’s the blonde guy, by the way. He…he didn’t take losing you well. I was there for him when he and Techno were grieving and it..it was horrible. They were so broken.” Sam said, eyes beginning to shine from unshed tears. “I can ask them to leave if you want, I understand if-“ “I don’t want them to go.” Wilbur interrupted, almost mad at himself that he’d let Tommy talk him into this. “I want to meet them. I want to see what they’re like again.“

“Really? I mean, you can, but I just thought-“ “I’ve made up my mind. Can I meet them again?” “Y-yeah, yeah, absolutely.” Sam said, leading Wilbur out the doors down the stairs. He heard Tommy make a few more excited chirps before he started purring again. Like always, it put Wilbur at ease a bit. He followed close behind Sam down the stairs and back to the kitchen, where he saw the pink haired boy leaned over the blonde guy, who was sitting at the table with his head on his folded arms. The pink haired boy’s head snapped up from where he’d been comforting his father as Sam and Wilbur re-entered the room, eyes narrowing at Wilbur like he was a rabid animal. In the awkward silence, Phil looked up, and it almost pained Wilbur too see his red cheeks and puffy eyes. He really hadn’t meant to hurt the guys feelings, he just panicked. They all stared at each other for a moment before Wilbur realized that they were probably waiting for him to speak up. Great.

“Uh…I’m sorry for screaming at you, Mr. Phil. I don’t do well with…surprise contact. You just scared me, is all.” The man just continued to stare back at Wilbur for a moment. “You…you really don’t remember me, do you, Orpheus?” Wilbur looked back and took a deep breath. This may have been for Tommy, but he had to stand his ground here. “I’m going to say this once, and only once cause I don’t think you can handle hearing it a second time, ok? You think you can handle this?” Phil looked a bit confused at the annoyed tone but nodded, prompting Wil to continue. “Good, cause here it is: I don’t know who Orpheus is. I don’t know who he was. All I know is he’s not me. Maybe he was, but not anymore. So maybe your grieving wasn’t in vain: because he is in fact very much dead.”

Wilbur paused as Phil’s face fell and tears started to run down his face again. Even the pink haired boy had started crying. He tried to ignore it. “My name is Wilbur. If you want to know me, not Orpheus, me, I…I’m willing to try to connect with you again. I don’t mean to be heartless but I need you to understand that if you want me back, there will be no prior standards for me. I won’t try to change how I am now to be the person I used to be for your amusement, because frankly? I couldn’t give less of a shit about what you want, because I don’t know fuck all about either of you. If you came here to find the son you lost, I’d suggest leaving. Any questions?”

Shocked silence filled the room. Phil stood silent and still as tears poured down his face, his clone even started to cry when he saw Phil crying, and Sam looked like he’d just watched a bomb go off. Wilbur just stood at the center waiting for something to change. For Sam to send him to his room, for Phil to break down even worse or for him and his son to deem Wilbur too different and abandon him (again), but nothing was happening. ‘Way to sugarcoat it, Wil.’ quietly played in his head, as if Tommy was afraid he’d somehow interrupt the group despite them not being able to hear him. He’d elbow himself in the gut later, that’d probably look really weird if he did it now.

“…Do you want to come home with us?” Phil said after a few minutes, shocking Wilbur. “Do you want me to?” Phil just nodded and wiped a few more tears from

his face. “Even if you don’t remember us, you’re still my son. You always will be. I’ve missed you so, so much Wilbur.” He said, kneeling to be at eye level. Wilbur just sighed. “Ok, then…let’s go home, I guess. I didn’t come here with much, I can just go with you now?” “Really?” Phil said, surprised but seemingly excited. “Oh, o-ok then! I thought you’d want a few days but, uh, sure! As long as Sam is ok with that?”

“Oh yeah, Sam!” Wilbur interrupted, turning to face the man who’d just kind of been standing silently, clearly unsure of what to do in the situation. “I need you to tell my guardians what happened. They’ll

probably understand, but they’ll also want to meet my long lost family

since they raised me and all.” ‘More like interrogate them and possibly file a restraining order so they can never take us again, but same difference I guess.’ Tommy chimed in unhelpfully. Wilbur ignored him. “Give them Phil’s address asap so they know where to find me. Also give me their phone numbers, i don’t remember them.” “Wait, guardians?” Phil chimed in, lightly tapping Wilbur on the shoulder with a concerned look. “You have legal guardians?”

“Three college aged guys, yeah. But I wouldn’t say legal,” Wilbur explained, “they just kind of took me in when I was lost without my memories. They tried to find you for a few years but gave up after a while. I couldn’t really give them any info to go off of.” “Oh…do they treat you well?” “Yes.” ‘No.’ Wilbur and Tommy said at the same time, though obviously only one was heard. “That’s…that’s good, i guess.” Phil said quietly, then it was back to the awkward silence. Godammit, Wilbur hated silence. Was it gonna be like this all the time with Phil?

“Well then, let’s get a move on.” Said the pink haired boy who Wilbur had only remembered was in the room when he spoke up. He’d been pretty silent, but at least his tears had dried. That was better than Phil was doing. “And you are?” Wilbur asked. “Technoblade, but most people call me Techno.” he said, holding a hand out. Wilbur just stared trying to figure out why he was doing that. Was it a high five? Sometimes orange would give him a high five when he did a good job testing, but why was he doing it sideways?

Wilbur smacked his hand quickly and pulled away, smiling awkwardly. Techno just lowered his hand and stared. Shit, he was wrong about the high five, wasn’t he?“Ok…” Techno said, “we’re gonna have to re-teach you some stuff, aren’t we?” “Uuuhhh…maybe.” Wilbur said quietly as he heard Tommy laugh at him. Asshole.

Wilbur made his way to their car after grabbing his bag and saying goodbye to Sam. The packed into the car, and Wilbur was met with the silence again. Phil seemed…weary of him, to put it best. Like he was dam one bad storm away from breaking. Techno seemed more disinterested in him, just playing on a phone as Phil started to drive, never looking up at him. Well, he wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence this time. He didn’t want to talk to them anyway.

Instead, he let himself fall into his nothingness, connecting with Tommy on the other side. “Well that went great!” Tommy said sarcastically. “I stood my ground.” Wilbur shot back. “I don’t want to be treated like some lost broken kid. I’m 13. I know what I’m doing.” “Well, I like them. They seem nice!” Wilbur wasn’t sure how to respond. Sure, Phil seemed like he wanted to care about him. Techno seemed…willing, at least, even if he was a bit nonchalant. But could he trust these people? They were the people who abandoned him and left him to almost starve to death in the woods as a toddler. That wasn’t exactly something a loving family would do, but they seemed happy to see him alive. Was it a mistake? How could they have fucked up badly enough that he got amnesia and almost died at the ripe age of 4?

But Tommy seemed so excited. As much as the scientists always tried to make sure it didn’t happen, Wilbur loved Tommy. He really was like a little brother, they’d grown up together. They’d both always been told that it would be for the best that they didn’t make that kind of connection in case something where to go wrong, but who else did they have? Tommy was family to him, and damn if he wouldn’t do anything to make the little boy happy. He sighed. “Yeah, well…let’s hope so.”

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Nanny Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+ 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, Sandy and Carl being bad parents, 18+ content in later chapters 

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: Here is the first part of my newest series and I want to thank the anon who reached out to me with this idea! 

If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know!

Taglist Form is in my bio and should be updated to now to include this fic! (If for some reason it isn’t working send me a message and I’ll make sure you’re added!!)

“Damn it, Sandy, can’t you handle that?” Carl yells from his dark room as the baby starts crying again.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Sandy shouts back, hurrying to put out her cigarette before heading to the nursery.

Their little girl was just about a year old, and neither one of them knew what they were doing. Carl was incredibly indifferent and despite her honest attempts at motherhood, Sandy’s maternal instincts never kicked in like she thought it would happen. Carl was annoyed that it cut into their time they would be on trips. They weren’t able to photograph models with the baby on the road, so he’d been itching to get back on the road.

“Is she hungry?” he shouts back, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the most recent photographs he had been developing.

“I just fed her!”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sandy shouts back exasperated. She scooped up the baby from her crib and started to rock her back and forth in her arms. Sandy also tried burping her, humming a little lullaby she made up on the fly… no luck. She walks around the house with the baby on her hip, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“We haven’t able to get back on the road in a year,” Carl says, clearly frustrated.

“That ain’t purely my fault,” she spits back, “Takes two to make a baby, Carl.”

“Fuck I know,” he groans, “But I need new inspiration. If I take one more picture of nature…”

“If she’s such a hindrance, pay for a damn sitter like I suggested months ago,” she counters.

“We can’t have no stranger walking around the house Sandy,” he points out.

“Just keep your damn room locked, it’s not a huge deal,” Sandy sighs. “Besides, no one is gonna snoop around if you pay ‘em enough. You damn well produce your own incriminating evidence; you should always have that room locked anyways.”

“We only have to worry about your damn brother,” Carl points out, “We hire a fucking sitter that’s two people we need to worry about.”

“You’re just to goddamn cheap to hire somebody,” Sandy states, moving back towards the nursery, the baby now snoring softly.

“You know what? Fine,” Carl says defeated. “But you’re in charge of putting the ad out and hiring somebody.”

“Thank you,” she says in a sing song tone, happy she got her way. But the moment of quiet that follows is short lived as they baby starts crying again.

“Please for the love of God can you just take care of that?” Carl yells, and the argument circles back to the beginning.

You had sat in the small dinner in the corner booth hunched over the newspaper and nursing your now cold cup of coffee. You had just arrived in Knockemstiff and were looking for work. “Any leads?” Julie asked as she topped off your coffee. Julie was your roommate. You had found her the same way you were currently looking for a job. You must have answered at least ten terrible Roommate Wanted ads until you had found Julie. The two of you now share an apartment- the top floor of a three-family owned by a sweet older couple.

“Thank you,” you say without looking up from scanning the ads. “Maybe this one?” You say pointing to one of the ads. She looks to see her manager stepped out for his smoke break before sliding in the booth across from you. You slide the paper over to her and she reads the ad out loud.

NANNY NEEDED Knockemstiff, Ohio

Couple that travels for work in need of a nanny for one-year-old daughter.

Temporary live-in position for several weeks at a time. Pay negotiable.

Call Sandy Henderson at the below number.

“I can sublet the room temporarily while you stay there,” Julie offers. “It’s a pretty vague offer,” she continues. “I wouldn’t commit until you call and speak to that Sandy woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to be interviewed,” you agree. “What kind of people are comfortable just leaving their baby for weeks at a time with a perfect stranger?”

“Paul is still out back I think,” she chuckles, “I’ll let you use the wall phone.”

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, and she dials the number for you and then passes you the receiver. You mouth a thank you and she waves her hand in dismissal as she heads over to take someone’s order.

“Whaddya want?” the woman on the other end answers abruptly.

“Oh, I’m calling about the ad in the paper regarding the nanny position. Is it still available?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, hun,” the woman says, now in a much nicer tone. “Thought it was my brother calling. Yes, it is, and we need it filled as soon as possible. When are you available?”

“For an interview?” You ask.

“Yeah,” she says mumbled, like she is dangling a cigarette from her mouth. “Can you come today?”

“Oh, wow. Yes, I can,” you reply.

“Great, um, you got a pen? Take down this address.”

About two hours, a change of clothes and a cab ride later, you were standing outside a house towards the end of town. It was a little run down, but what building in this town wasn’t? You were a little nervous of course, but it was also the most unconventional way you have gotten an interview. Part of you was relieved, because the woman on the phone sounded real, not phony, but the circumstances still made you uneasy. Julie had the address and said you’d call when you got back to the taxi dispatch.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sandy smiled, opening up the door for you. She had one hand on the doorknob and one of the cutest babies you’d ever seen in the other. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Who is this?” you coo, leaning down to the baby’s eye level. “She’s darling.”

“This little sweetheart is Valerie,” Sandy smiles, passing the baby to you. “She’s so well-behaved. Hardly ever cries.”

“She’s adorable,” you smile, as the baby cuddles up close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I didn’t properly introduce myself on the phone. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Sandy,” she introduces herself. “Please take a seat on the couch, get comfortable. I hate things that are so formal. Bleh.”

You take a seat on the couch, and readjust the little girl in your arms so she’s sitting on your lap and her back is resting against you so she is supported.

“So, my husband and I are on the road a lot, usually,” she begins, “We took some time off when we had Valerie, but we really need to start working again, you understand.”

“Of course, what do you both do?” you ask politely.

“We’re photographers,” she beams, “Mostly nature and landmarks- which reminds me! We have a darkroom in the house, but that door will be locked when you’re staying here. We don’t want any damage to any of the negatives we have stored in there you understand. Everywhere else in the house is yours to explore! And of course we gotta spare bedroom you can call your own.”

“Fair enough,” you joke.

“So, tell me about yourself, honey,” she smiles, crossing her legs in the armchair where she sat.

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago actually,” you begin, “I just recently finished school, and now I’m looking for work. I just got my degree in early childcare from the state college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says with a clap of her hands. “So, you’re local?”

“Yes, I live in town.”

“Excellent! We’d also love for this to be like an on-call thing as well, you know for date nights and things like that for times when we’re home. Like for a few hours here and there. And of course, we’ll always live money for groceries or whatever you need on top of your pay for emergencies incase Valerie needs formula or diapers or anything.”

“Perfect,” you smile, surprised how well the conversation was going. Sandy was easy-going and nice to talk to. The two of you sat and talked for a little under an hour, her asking all the standard questions you anticipated. You also were able to ask her some more of your own questions as well. It was the most effortless interview you had been on easily.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to meet Carl today,” she says when she is showing you out. “But hun, I feel confident to offer you the job. We haven’t had many applicants and you’re the most qualified one I’ve spoken to. The job is yours if you want it?”

“When can I start?” you smile, making her laugh.

“Your number is on the resume, right?” she says, scooping up the baby. You nod, waving goodbye to the baby and then saying goodbye to Sandy.

“I’ll call you when I speak to Carl, but I think once he knows he’ll want to head out as soon as we can. Plan for Sunday,” she says as you get into the cab.

Just like she had promised, you get a call from Sandy on Saturday afternoon asking you to show up the next morning at 9. You spend the day packing up your clothes and anything else you’d need for a few weeks. Sandy said they’d be back in two weeks but you pack for three just in case. Julie was also nice enough to help you. You didn’t need to do much. Ever since you had settled in Knockemstiff, you had been pretty lazy with unpacking and for once procrastination played out in your favor.

Julie insisted on taking you out to celebrate that night before starting your job tomorrow. There was a small little bar, a little shack of a place just on the outside of town you went to. Julie had a car and you drove, anticipating she’d have a lot more to drink than you. It was a hotter summer night, so you drove with the windows down and the radio playing a little louder than you normally would.

The outside was decorated with string lights of primary colors and the wooden awning looked like it was one more storm away from collapsing. But the atmosphere inside was to die for. The jukebox was playing loud dance music, and the place was crowded. Empty recycled glasses lined the walls on a high shelf as decoration along with weathered posters of anything Americana. A row of motorcycles and trucks were parked outside the little place and it looked like a pileup from how crowded the lot was. People lingered outside as well, and you both hoped you’d find seats inside.

The two of you found a high-top table and Julie made her way up to the bar, skillfully maneuvering through the crowd to grab you both some drinks. You let your eyes wandering, surveying the room and just people watching. Couples were dancing closely to the music that was rattling the jukebox, and a group of people were sitting at the bar huddles in to watch the little black and white portable television. You also noticed a group of men in uniform several tables down, local police. They weren’t paying any attention to anyone but their own conversation, except one.

He just so happened to have looked up just as your eyes landed on their table. Steel blue eyes cutting across everything and just staring right back into yours. It was a fraction of a second and his gaze was broken by Julie taking her seat across from you. You cleared your throat, and finally allowed yourself to exhale. You felt her raise an eyebrow at you but she didn’t press, just gave you a knowing smirk you brushed off. You still felt his gaze on you even if your view was now obstructed.

Sandy and Carl were in a rush when you arrived in the morning. Sandy ran you through the details of where everything was kept and told you that she would call to check in when she could when they made stopped. She helped you carry your bags in from the trunk of the taxi while Carl packed their bags in their car. He was polite enough, but you felt in your gut to just keep your distance. Sandy led you upstairs to the guest room she told you she worked to clean out for you. It was simple, a bed and a dresser with a small closet. She said it mostly had been storage and her weekend project had been clearing it out for you. It was simple, but good enough for you for sure. You thanked her and she dismissed it saying you were the one doing her a favor, making you laugh.

The whole ordeal was very hurried. Carl was rushing to get on the road as soon as possible and you could tell he was clearly irritated at how long Sandy was taking showing you around and explaining things about Valerie. Carrying the baby in your arms, you finally were settled in to your new role and Sandy gave one more big hug and a kiss on Valerie’s head before rushing down to the car. You waved to the pair of them from the small front porch, Sandy looking back and waving to the baby from the passenger seat until they were out of your line of vision.

The first day was a little daunting. New space, living in a house that isn’t yours and a baby babbling in your arms. She was a sweet thing, and she already had taken a liking to you. Heading over to her nursery, you saw that she had a little play pen folded up in the corner of the nursery and you quickly set it up in your room so you could unpack while keeping an eye on her. She babbled just happy utter nonsense to you while you navigated around the space and her big eyes just followed you, just watching you was entertaining for her for now. You were a new face and she was entertained just by that for now.

A few hours later, Valerie had settled down for a nap in the early afternoon. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and you were getting formula ready for when she woke up. It was quiet, the only noise in the house was the small sounds of your own rustling in the kitchen. You wondered when you would hear from Sandy, if it would be later tonight or in a couple of days. You just were lost in your own thoughts when you were startled by a loud knocking on the door. Instantly, Valerie began to cry. You wiped your hands quickly on the skirt of your dress before grabbing her. You rested her on your hip and rocked her gently, shushing her to calm down while you went to grab the door.

The first thing your eyes saw were the same blue eyes who was looking at you at the bar last night. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked really confused. He had one hand rested on his hip and the other against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when he saw it wasn’t who he expected. Your eyes then went down to the shiny Sheriff’s Badge fixed in place on his uniform.

“Who are you?” he asks abruptly. “Where’s Sandy?”

“Sandy and Carl left this morning,” you explain, not sure if he recognizes you. “I’m their nanny.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks down, almost like he doesn’t believe you, or he just doesn’t believe the situation. “Carl? Carl Henderson hired a nanny?” he scoffs and you nod, holding Valerie a little closer. The little girl rubs her eyes and yawns, when her eyes flutter open, she looks at the stranger in the doorway and immediately reaches out to signal she wants to be held by him. You ignore her resistance to wanting to be in your arms until you get more information about why the Sheriff is at their doorstep, though she obviously knows him.

“I’m Sandy’s brother,” he explains, “Did she say when they were coming back?” He doesn’t try to hold the baby yet, just holds out one of his fingers and her little hand holds onto it tightly.

“Two weeks.”

“They hire a complete stranger to watch my niece and live in their house unsupervised while they drive around?” he scoffs, shaking his head again in disbelief.

“I’m more than qualified…”

“It’s not a jab at you, sweetheart,” the man tries to explain, “More so a reflection on my sister and her husband is all. They are… fairly selfish people and I wished this situation surprises me more than it does.”

“Should I tell her you came by when she calls?” you ask.

“If she calls,” the man chuckles, “Sure, let her know Lee stopped by to visit.”

“You don’t think she will?” you ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll see,” Lee shrugs, “Do I know you from somewhere?” He rests his arm back up on the doorframe and looks down to the baby again, extending out his free hand to her again and scrunching her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, not wanting to admit you remembered seeing him last night. He purses his lips together and nods, not pressing further. He pushes off from the doorframe and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Must’ve been in a dream then,” he smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. He walks down the steps and back towards his cop car. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, turning back around.

“I didn’t,” you chuckle.

“Hmm,” he nods, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to fill in the blank. You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you like he’s thinking about it, trying it out to see how it sounds.

“Well,” he says, standing behind the open driver’s door, “Good luck, and I hope Sandy proves me wrong. Let me know if she calls.”

Taglist: 

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro​ 

[rizubaby]

Aladdin AU | Mondo Owada.

genre ; nsfw oneshot.

request ; Mondo Owada in an Aladdin AU.

summary ; Mondo's been living on the streets of Agrabah for a long time, getting into trouble everywhere he goes. It's not easy to survive out on the streets, but even Mondo has his ways of getting by.

tags ; nsfw, gang bang, gagging, vulgar language.

wc ; 1,3k.

note ; alright, my first request is done! wow, this took a lot of brainpower to write lol. Hope you enjoy though!

This is an 18+ post. Minors dni.

A soft gush of wind flows through Mondo's hair, the stars shining brightly in the night sky. Bright torches illuminate the streets of Agrabah, the sounds of bustling marketplaces everywhere you go.

He sighs, running his hands through his hair that is messily tucked away in a man bun. He's got no more food left. He just ate the last bit of dried dates, but it wasn't enough to still his hunger. It was hard living on the streets, having no where to belong. But he made it work. He had to.

Getting up swiftly from the edge of the rooftop he was sitting on, he pulled his headscarf over his head and made his way down. "fuck..." he mumbles, scanning the crowded street for any royal guards who might intervene with his... unconventional plans of obtaining some food.

Not this way.

He quickly turns around and walks through the back of the alleyway, making his way through the narrow, dimly lit streets until he walks out onto a different part of the market.

Mondo looks around, not a guard in sight. Perfect. He slowly pulls his headscarf off his head and walks towards the nearest food stall. There's a friendly looking girl standing behind the stall with big green eyes, saying her goodbyes as another customer walks away with a bag of apples. His eyes scan her up and down, a faint grin appearing on his face.

"Hey... how much for a few of these apples?" He asks, resting his elbow on the counter of the stall. "Five silver pieces," she answers, tucking her long, dark hair behind one ear.

Mondo grabs one apple from one of the crates that's out in front of him, taking a large bite out of it. "Listen, is there... another way I can pay you for these?"

The girl nods, indicating she knew what he had meant. She takes his hand and pulls him closer, her other hand slowly caressing his exposed chest. Then, just when they're about to leave, a loud noise can be heard from the crowd.

"YOU! STAY WHERE YOU ARE RIGHT NOW!"

Just a couple stalls away, a male and a female guard run out from the masses, pointing right at Mondo. Faces of random bystanders and merchants all look at him in an attempt to identify the person the guards are after.

"Shit."

He quickly grabs two more apples and throws them in the sack that's bound to his waist before winking at the girl and taking off.

"Sorry babe, another time!"

Taking advantage of the area, he swiftly makes his way between the people in the crowd, bumping against them as he's trying to shake off the royal guards that are furiously chasing after him. He makes a sharp turn to the left, into another dark alleyway. Unfortunately for him, it's not long before the two guards finally have him cornered. Damn it, this tactic usually works. With his back against the wall, Mondo realises he's finally been caught.

"There's nowhere to run now, you punk." the male guard scolds, his hand hovering above the handle of his sword. The female guard looks Mondo, her facial expression indicating that she's somewhat hesitant.

"Hey... maybe we shouldn't kill him. Why don't we just... teach him a lesson?" the female guard asserts, looking Mondo up and down before placing her hand on the other guard's shoulder. The male guard raises and eyebrow at his colleague, snickering as he finally caught on to what she was getting at.

Obviously, Mondo heard what the two guards were discussing. He wasn't mad at it though, not in the slightest. If this was his way out of trouble, then he's all for it. After all, those same guards quite literally cock-blocked him from getting some just a couple minutes ago. Besides, he had nothing to complain about. Those were two very attractive looking guards.

"Hey, you two," Mondo started, "Are you just gonna stand there, or are you goin' to use me like you're planning to?"

The faces of the guards immediately turned to him again, their eyes wide and surprised with Mondo's sudden remark. They weren't expecting him to be into this.

The male guard suddenly walked up to Mondo and pushed him against the wall with full force, the slightly taller male pushing himself against him. His nose slowly grazing against Mondo's neck, feeling the hot panting against his skin.

"Let's see what you're made of, you little rat." the guard scolds, undoing the buckle of his pants with one hand while the other remained right next to Mondo's face. He knew what he had to do, so he slowly got onto his knees and eagerly took the male guard's cock in hand. Slowly beginning to stroke the man's length, Mondo looked up at him and grinned contently. He could already see the effect his hands had on him, the guard's face turning a faint shade of red as he let out soft, low grunts.

"F-fuck..." the guard mutters, feeling Mondo's tongue suddenly touch the tip of his cock. The female guard was standing behind them, now deciding to join in. She got on her knees next to Mondo and started licking the other guard's length alongside him. Aroused moans from the three of them echoed throughout the alleyway, the bright moonlight shining upon them. Hot cum shot out from the man's impressive manhood, dirtying both Mondo and the female guard's faces. Mondo wasted no time, as he was already busy pulling down his own pants to take the female still on her knees beside him.

"Now it's my turn to pleasure you." Mondo mumbled, abruptly janking the female up onto her feet and pulling down her pants and undergarments in one smooth motion. He positioned his already rock hard cock in front of her entrance, the female guard biting her bottom lip in arousal. He slid inside, her wet hole clenching around him as he grabbed her wrists and held them behind her back.

The male guard was leaning against the other wall, still panting from his recent climax. As his female colleague's moaning grew louder and more intense, he noticed more of his colleagues walking past at the end of the alleyway. They definitely noticed some noise coming from nearby, so they came to check it out.

Seeing two of their colleagues engaging in sexual matters with some street filth really took them by surprise, though their shocked expressions quickly turned into intrigued and aroused looks. They walked towards their male colleague, wanting a piece of the action.

"Well, well, look at this... For some filthy street rat, he sure has a nice body..." one guard comments, placing themselves behind Mondo, who's still ramming into their female colleague with lust filled eyes.

"Hey there, pretty boy." the guard lets their hands slide down Mondo's back, softly biting his neck and grabbing hold of the scarf around Mondo's neck. He slowly takes it off of his neck while he's still fucking the female into oblivion, tying a knot into it.

A loud, pleasure filled moan fills the alleyway as the female guard trembles from her amazing orgasm. Mondo pants heavily, being slighty out of breath from how hard he was fucking into her. But the fun's not over yet. The guard that was standing behind him slides the scarf over his head and into Mondo's mouth, gagging him with his own scarf.

"You like that, hm?" he mumbles with his scarf in his mouth as he tries to bite into it. The guard brings their face next to Mondo's, snickering mischievously. "Yeah... now it's our turn." the guard whispers, nudging their other colleagues to join the fun.

The next hour is filled with loud moans of pleasure, groans and grunts, wet noises from the various sexual acts as the night grows colder. Mondo's face is red from excitement and overstimulation, sweating heavily with his mouth gagged by his scarf. "fuck," he thinks to himself,

"at least I'll be out of trouble for now."

[mysweetgeo]

I Need You (Part 3)

Summary: Sequel Series to the Do You Want to Know a Secret ? Series. Reader accepts a job as a photographer for a band as they begin a tour mid-1966, what happens when she finds out that she knows them ?

Though you’d never actually seen a group record a song, you’d often fantasised what it would be like to get to watch something like this.

The Beatles were unconventional at best, and their recording methods involved a lot of laughing and messing around with each other.

You knew that seeing them work on one of George’s songs was unusual to see, so when they went right off with working on one of his songs, you couldn’t help but be curious of what you’d be witnessing.

You sat quietly in the corner with your camera as you watched the four of them slip on their headphones, George held an acoustic guitar, the strap supporting it higher than you’d seen on other musicians.

You could tell this wasn’t the first time they’d been working on this song, as Paul looked almost bored sitting behind the piano and John sat slouched in his chair half asleep holding a tambourine.

“George, have you got a name for this one yet?” John asked lazily, tapping his tambourine against his leg gently.

“I don’t know,” George replied as he got into position.

“Whenever you’re ready lads,” you heard a voice over the speakers say.

“One, two, three,” George mumbled to himself before beginning the song.

It was the same little riff he’d been playing earlier, though it was more complete with Ringo’s drums and Paul’s piano.

When it finally came to an end, you heard the voice come through the speaker again, “Very good, did you want to try the vocals today too, George?”

“Yeah, I think so,” He replied, setting his guitar down and standing by the mic.

John and Paul also stood by the other mic that had been set up just to the right of George’s, a divider between them.

You felt someone’s presence as Ringo came and sat in the chair just to the left of you.

“Here,” he offered his headphones to you, “Its a better experience when you can hear everything thats going on.”

You grinned, “Thanks, Ringo,” you replied as you slipped the headphones on, patiently waiting for them to begin.

You heard the beginning of the track start, the guitar fading in just before the drums came in.

“I want to tell you, my head is filled with things to say,” you heard George’s voice come through the headphones, causing you to jump slightly.

“When you’re here, all those words, they seem to slip away,” you looked up at George, only to find him staring back at you.

Your heart began to race as he continued singing, “When I get near you, the games begin to drag me down,” his eyes continued to bore into you, “it’s all right, I’ll make you maybe next time around.”

You shook your head at him as the song moved on into the bridge, “If I seem to act unkind, its only me, its not my mind that is confusing things.”

You knew what he was trying to express, as much as you tried to shut it out.

“I want to tell you, I feel hung up but I don’t know why.”

Yes you do, George. You’re married and apparently in love with someone else.

“I don’t mind. I could wait forever, I’ve got time.”

Just about the exact same words he’d said to you two years ago, though those were much different circumstances, weren’t they?

“Sometimes I wish I knew you well.”

You do, George, you know me better than anybody.

“Then I could speak my mind and tell you, maybe you’d understand.”

You’ve already told me plenty of times, I think maybe you’re the one who doesn’t quite understand.

You looked over to Paul and John as the song finished, the two of them in their own little world as they sang the backing harmonies.

As the song finished, you looked to George once again, meeting his eyes once again.

I love you. He mouthed to you.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat and you had to take the headphones off as you stood and rushed out the door into the control room and back out into the long hallway that Brian had led you down just this morning.

You started running down the hall, trying to find the way out but every new hallways took you somewhere else, and there was no end in sight.

Your emotions where on high alert as you stopped and leaned against the wall of another dead end hallway, sliding down until you were sat on the floor, your knees pulled to your chest as you let out a sob.

How could he still love me if he was married? Nothing made sense anymore and nothing was clear to you.

You didn’t know how long you’d been sat in the hall before you heard a familiar voice shouting, “There she is!”

You looked up to find John and Paul, and you were instantly thankful that George hadn’t tried to find you.

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, “Oh, ‘m sorry lads, I was just—I needed a moment,” you murmured.

The two men sat on either side of you, John wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close to his side.

“You don’t have to explain anything to us, love,” Paul says as he rubs a hand on your knee in a comforting manner.

You smiled thankfully and nuzzled into John’s chest, you’d missed having the boys around all the time, they were a very comforting presence in your life that you’d deeply missed.

“I should’ve come to London sooner, then maybe he’d have been with me,” you murmured.

“You can’t blame yourself, dear, you weren’t ready yet,” John replies, rubbing his hand on your shoulder, “Lord knows he’s not ready for you.”

You nodded your head weakly and just enjoyed the silence between the three of you.

After what felt like hours, you finally spoke again, “Don’t you guys have more recording to do?” You asked, lifting your head off John’s chest and looking between the two of them.

“We do, but we were worried about you, besides George and Ringo have some overdubbing and such to work on,” Paul explained as he stood and offered you a hand which you gladly took as he pulled you up.

You nodded in understanding as John stood as well and the three of you began walking down the hall back to Studio 2.

“Someone’s going to have to show me around here, ‘cos I haven’t a clue on how I got over here,” you said with a laugh.

“Oh we’ll give you a tour, darling,” Paul said as he slipped an arm around your shoulders.

[nicb0723]

Find Your Worth

John Wick x Reader

Summary: You meet John in an unconventional way.

Notes: Depression trigger warning 

Word Count: 11,754

Read Chapter 1

Chapter 2

**

Before work you go grocery shopping and run some errands. You clean up a lot and wonder how the hell John’s personality will fit in your tiny apartment. He doesn’t say much but he can be so intense. You can’t imagine the two of you together, alone, in this tiny space. 

In the bathroom you hesitate as you pick up your prescription. The doctor thought it would take the edge off your anxiety, and make the depression manageable. She also made sure you were seeing someone for therapy.  For now, the pill once a day does work. You can breathe. You can function. You’d be a fool to think all of your problems would disappear overnight. You still have a long road of recovery ahead, but this makes it less overwhelming. You place the little plastic container in the medicine cabinet, somewhere John won’t see it. You wouldn’t put it past him if he snooped, but in a way you're proud that you were able to talk about your problems and get some help. 

At work Sam is with you and currently making fun of your limp after you tell him why there’s a bruise on your foot. He’s asking if you want him to go buy you a cane when John waltzes in, hair slicked back and suit jacket blowing from the wind. How someone can look like a model in a gas station you’ll never know. He stares until you go to him and ask what the hell he’s doing here.

“Getting gas.” He answers and reaches for his wallet.

You don’t say anything and ring him up, glancing outside to his car parked in spot one. 

Sam is watching you two interact and he has the biggest grin on his face. Is that your boyfriend? He mouths behind John’s back and you cough in shock. No, and yeah right, like you could ever get a guy like John in a million years. 

“Hello!” Sam says loudly and teasingly bumps your hip with his behind the counter. 

John raises an eyebrow and glances to you first, then nods to Sam. “Hi.”

“John, this is Sam my co-worker and Sam, this is John my um… friend?”

True surprise flickers in John’s brown eyes and he looks pleased, a slow small smile spreads on his lips. 

“She’s actually my boss, but nice to meet you.” Sam says and his attention is drawn to the classic car outside and the gushing begins. 

You let the two of them talk until you hear John offer to show him the engine and they both move to go outside. “Hey, I’ll see you later?” 

Sam smirks and you nod at John, wondering how he knows where you live. It’s a little weird that he broke into your place just to fix a leaking faucet and he was in your apartment without you even knowing.  In the back of your mind, you think that it’s actually pretty thoughtful. You mindlessly wonder why he would waste his time though. Why he would do any of the things that he did. He said that he would help anyone in the same situation as you, but you’ve been thinking about that question since the day at the lake, and you’re too scared to ask him. You’re scared to see the look on his face, the look of pity because that’s all you can think that he’ll say. 

You hear John’s car peel away and Sam comes back inside, still grinning like an idiot. 

“What?” You ask, not really wanting to know.

“Nothing.” Sam hops up on the counter and he knows he’s not supposed to sit there. “I think he likes you.”

“And what makes you say that.” You deadpan, pushing at his butt with the tip of your pen.

Sam slides down and knocks over a display of gum. “He told me to look out for you.”

“Oh yeah? I can see you’d be very threatening.” You point to the packs of gum all over the floor. 

He bends down and starts to pick up the mess. “What’d you need looking out for anyway?”

“Nothing, he's just being protective I guess.”

Sam looks at you with concern. “From what?”

“Nothing. I promise, okay?”

For the rest of the night Sam shows you his karate moves and chops up air until closing time. 

**

John is folded up in the corner of your couch with his legs crossed at the knees and his black leather shoe tapping your coffee table. He’s reading one of the old magazines you have laying around. 

“How was work?” He asks, folding the magazine shut, like this is the most normal thing in the world. 

You check the locks on your door to see if they’re broken, but they’re not. You turn the handle again to make sure the door is shut all the way. 

“I should probably give you a key if you’re going to let yourself in.” 

John shrugs. “If you want.” 

Tossing your purse on the kitchen table you make your way to the living room and sit on the chair across from the couch. John looks so out of place, but you can tell he’s trying to blend in, make himself belong in your little apartment. 

“Who’s taking care of your dog while you’re here?” You ask, kicking your feet up. 

“Pooch? The little girl next door. She loves him.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “Don’t tell me you actually named him Pooch. I don’t even think that’s an actual word, I think my grandma made it up.”

John shrugs again you can tell he’s definitely not a man to waste any words. “It stuck. It’s... cute.”

“Cute? I can’t see you thinking anything is cute.” You grin and stand up to take your jacket and shoes off to get more comfortable. You can hear him mutter something under his breath, but can’t catch it.  “So do we know if Max is officially out yet?” 

“No, I’m waiting for the call though. I’ll know as soon as it happens.”

You don’t have any doubt.  “Do you want something to eat or drink?” You open the refrigerator for some juice. ”I usually have a snack when I get home. Feel free to take anything you want.” 

John tries to settle back on the couch but he seems stiff. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“You can take off your tie and your jacket at least. You’ll probably be here for awhile.” You call out to him, your head sticking in the cupboard looking for the popcorn you put in there earlier. 

John doesn’t move and you gesture for him to get up as you crawl back in your chair with a bag of food. 

“You sure about that?”

“Yes of course I’m sure. Why would I not be sure?” You look at him like he’s crazy as he slowly stands and oh… that’s why.

The suit jacket comes off and he carefully lays it over the side table. His slender waist is circled with a large utility belt with three guns, two clips, and probably a knife. The sight makes your eyes widen. He stares at you as he slowly unfastens the buckle and gently places it on top of his jacket. 

“Don’t go near that.” He points sternly and sits back down, this time more comfortable. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket and sets it on the couch next to him. 

“Definitely not. Are you planning on using any of that?”

“Scare tactic.” 

Silence fills the room as you crunch on your popcorn and you’re actually feeling pretty tired. You’d like to go to bed, but you’re not sure what John’s plans are exactly. 

“So how is this going to happen?” You ask.  “Are you going to come to work with me too? Are you going to run my errands with me? I mean, I’d love the company but I don’t see you wandering around Target for an hour.”

“I don’t mind going to Target with you.” His voice is so serious you can’t help but smile. “I don’t think he’ll come around during the day though. He wants you alone. Scared. Vulnerable. And I have my cop friend keeping an eye on you at work. It’s on his beat anyway.”

“Okay.” That all sounds reasonable. Dread and doubt suddenly take hold of you. “Look, maybe I’m wrong? Maybe he won’t bother with me and we can just forget about it? Maybe there’s nothing to worry about at all.”

John shakes his head. “I read his record. It’s not good.”

Well, crap. You don’t want to talk about Max anymore and you don’t want to ask the one question that’s been hounding your mind. You’re still too scared to know the reason John is here, so you ask something else. “Are you ever going to sleep? You can’t stay up all night waiting.”

“I’ll sleep until I know he’s out.” John says easily. “Then after that I have motion detection alerts on my phone from the camera outside your floor.”

You blink at him. “There are cameras on the door of the elevator?”

“There are now.”

“How’d that happen?” You’ve never noticed any security cameras anywhere. 

“I talked to Francis, the apartment manager. He’s a nice guy.”

You blink at him again. “I know, but he only speaks Russian. How’d you talk to him?”

John smirks and says, “Bez truda.” 

It’s all a little too much and you get up, shaking your head in disbelief. “How is this my life right now? How do I get myself into these things? I have an assassin in my apartment… I’m going to take a shower!” You announce after a minor anxiety attack. “Feel free to turn on the TV, get comfortable, whatever you want.”

The water feels good as you scrub away the day. It relaxes you until swarming thoughts of John sitting on your couch make you hurry out of the tub and wrap yourself in the flannel bathrobe you always wear. Before you lose your nerve you walk back into the living room and find John where you left him, now looking at his phone. 

“They’re just starting to process paperwork. That means it’ll be a few hours.” John’s talking, but doesn’t look up. You start to brush your wet hair out and twist it loosely on top of your head for the night. Usually you’d smear face cream all over but that obviously is not going to happen. 

“Look, John. I know we hardly know each other, but you can sleep in the bed, okay?” You start to turn off the kitchen lights and check the front door one more time to make sure it’s locked. “It’s plenty big enough and I would just feel better.”

He’s looking at you with warm eyes now, his mouth open but nothing is coming out. It’s like his brain turned a switch and decided something important. Whatever he’s thinking must be big because his whole demeanor changes. You can’t quite figure it out, but he seems content to be here with you, where just a few moments ago he had a guard up and was struggling with something on his mind. Somehow and unknowingly, you sense that you’ve just started to break down his wall.  You have no idea what you did, you’re just being yourself, but for the first time John is vulnerable. He’s blinking slowly, as if he’s seeing you for the first time in a new light, or finally giving himself permission to really see you.

It doesn’t matter though, because you know you look like a complete dork in your bathrobe and suddenly you feel incredibly stupid. Shame floods your stomach and you almost feel sick. Of course, this man wouldn’t want to be in the same bed as you. He’d probably rather die. You can’t believe you even suggested it. Also, your therapist would be terribly disappointed in you for talking down to yourself like this. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

He stands up and grabs a small leather bag you hadn’t seen by the widow. “Yes. If it’ll make you feel safer.” 

No. No. That’s not how you wanted it to happen. You wanted John to want to sleep in the bed, not because you asked him. “Listen, I didn’t mean… I’ll take the couch, okay? You probably don’t want to share the bed with me, I totally understand. And you’re doing me a favor and I just want you to be comfortable.”

Utter confusion crosses his handsome face. He scratches at his beard with long fingers, trying to make sense of what you want. “What good would that do? With you sleeping on the couch?”

You stammer and can feel a flush develop on your cheeks. “I just thought… I don’t know.”

“If you rather, I can book you a room in a hotel for a few nights. I won’t… do anything to you. I can promise you that.”

Oh God. This conversation could not get any worse. You’re horrified that he thinks something like that and you try terribly to explain. “No, no that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to go to a hotel. I just meant that um, you probably don’t want to share a bed with someone like me.” 

“Someone like you?”

The flush is creeping up to your neck as you become more embarrassed. You point at your bathrobe and general dorkiness. “Yeah, like someone… not… exactly… uh… cute?”

He seems to realize what you’re trying to say and laughs a little. “Well it’s a good thing there’s no one not cute in this apartment. I don’t know how I could ever sleep.” He walks towards you and gently tucks the hair that had fallen in your eyes behind your ears. It’s very intimate and you feel yourself start to smile. “Can we go to bed now?” He moves his arm out for you to lead the way and you feel silly. John is a nice guy. Even if he really didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as you, he probably still would because it’s what you wanted. 

“Yeah, sorry.” You mumble and walk into the bedroom with him following. There’s not much clutter and it’s pretty bare besides the newly bought self help books on the nightstand and regular girly stuff littered on the dresser. John throws his bag on the floor and you grab some pajamas for yourself, heading to the bathroom to change. 

When you come back John is wearing a white t-shirt and soft blue sleep pants. He’s incredibly adorable and you can’t believe your luck of having him in your room right now. He must’ve grabbed his phone and weapons because they’re both on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

He looks you up and down in your tank top and shorts as you plop on the mattress, quickly getting under the covers. 

“This okay?” He asks and points to his own clothes. Was he expecting for you to want him to sleep in his suit?

“Yeah of course. But...  can you fight in pajamas?” You wrinkle your nose and tease him. “That’s not very assassin-y.”

He barks out a laugh and lays down, but he doesn’t get under the sheets. His feet are bare and long, and you keep peeking at his toes.  “I think it’ll be fine.”

You roll over and face him. He’s looking up at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. 

“I can’t believe you’re here right now.”

He doesn’t move. “Why?”

Your eyes start to become heavy and you watch his chest move up and down in slow rhythmic breaths. “People don’t usually do nice things for me. I’m used to being on my own.”

With that he shifts on his side, towards you.  His hair falls in his eyes and you long to brush it away. “I can tell.”

“I don’t like asking for help.”

“You never asked me for anything.” John points out. There’s plenty of space between the both of you and flop your arm towards his side, pointing at him teasingly.

“Oh, I distinctly remember asking you to do one very specific thing and you failed.”

He squirms from the quick stabs of your pointer finger at his ribs. “I don’t know, I think things turned out pretty perfect.”

You scoff and roll to your stomach now, sliding your arms under the pillow. “Perfect? Yeah right, I’m sure this is the last place you want to be.”

“It is perfect. This bed is very comfortable.” John finally gets under the blankets and you giggle sleepily. His cologne is stirred by his movement and you savor the spicy smell. 

“It’s new. I got a raise at work. I’m an assistant manager now.” You tell him proudly, even though you know it’s not that big of an accomplishment.

“Oh excuse me, Miss Assistant Manager.” John smiles and acts extremely impressed. “Congratulations, by the way. I should take you out to celebrate.”

You have no idea if he’s serious or not so you just laugh and snuggle down more into the bed. After a minute you ask, “Do you think Max will come tonight?”

John pauses, thinking. “Hard to say. He doesn’t have a good past. He has friends in high places who will probably help him. How’d you meet a guy like that anyway?”

“How is that you know my name, where I live, my phone number, where I work, what car I drive… literally everything about me and you don’t know that?”

John brushes the hair from his eyes and you can see the tan line around his ring finger has started to finally fade. “That’s just part of the job.”

“Fixing leaking water faucets is part of being an assassin?” You ask, teasing again.

A sweet pink flush spreads on John’s cheeks. “Shush.” 

“That’s what I thought.”

He pretends to glare. “Maybe it is. You don’t know.” 

“You’re right, I don’t know.” You yawn and let your eyes fall close. “Can I tell you tomorrow though? I’m gonna pass out.”

You hear the click of the side lamp turn off and you want to stay awake, to soak in this moment a little more but sleep is overpowering and you drift off into a peaceful rest. 

**

Until about two o’clock in the morning, and then you start to toss and turn. You swear there’s a noise out in the living room but you also know you’re probably being paranoid. You can see the shape of John’s body just a few inches away and you want to reach over to him. 

“Hey.” He whispers and his voice startles you still. “Are you okay?”

“No.” You sit up a little and look towards your bedroom door. There’s a stream of light from the street lamps coming in through the window, but other than that it’s dark. “I thought I heard something.”

“It was just the air kicking on. You’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You feel John’s palm rest on your arm and squeeze. “Positive.”

“Is he out? Did you get a text or anything?”

“Hey, don’t worry about anything, okay? I promise you’re safe.”

You fall back on the bed with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

You're wide awake and this whole situation is baffling. John Wick is in your bed, squeezing your arm and comforting you. 

“Isn’t being an assassin illegal?” You blurt out, the darkness giving you courage, and you instantly regret asking the question because he pulls away.

“It’s the only thing I’m good at.” He says quietly. “Trust me, I tried to retire and I got sucked back in somehow. People seem to want only me for really hard jobs.”

“Couldn’t you get arrested or something if you got caught? Could I get in trouble with you being here?” 

“No. Sometimes cops need bad guys to go away too. You won’t get in trouble.”

“Oh.”

“Feel better now?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I just don’t always get myself into the best situations. I feel really safe with you, I just…” You don’t meet an assassin everyday. You have no idea what it really means. 

“It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to offend you.”

He laughs softly and his fingers brush the back of your arm now. “Nothing you ever ask will offend me. It’s actually quite refreshing. I just hope…”

You wait for him to finish, but he seems to be gathering his thoughts and you don’t want to rush him. 

“I hope you can think of me as a friend before an assassin. And I hope that I don’t scare you.”

“I don’t scare easily.” You mumble and yawn, glancing back to your bedroom door. You ignore the friend comment because you feel like you’ve already been through hell and back. You don’t know if you could consider John as a friend and then lose him someday. It might break you all over again. But then you think of how far you’ve come. “I could probably take Max. I could get him to leave me alone now that I have my mind straight.”

“You think so?” John is sincere and you can hear he’s happy at your mental growth. 

“Yeah maybe. As long as he’s clean and not hopped up on something. Then it might be harder.”

“I guess we’ll see.” John checks his phone and puts it down again after looking briefly at it. “Are you going to be able to get back to sleep?”

“Yes. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“Stop apologizing.” He shifts to his side, with his back to you. 

It’s a strong, solid back with his shoulder blades poking out from underneath his t-shirt. You stare until your eyes feel heavy again. You feel safe.

**

The next time you wake up the sun is blaring from the window and John is gone. His leather bag is still by the bed though, but his suit jacket and all of his guns are gone too. 

You start to go about your business, not believing John would leave you alone if you were in any kind of danger. It’s almost creepy how your phone alerts a few seconds later with a text, like he knows that you’re up. 

No need to worry. I know where he is. I’ll see you later tonight. Let me know if anything happens.

You text back sounds good and John tells you to have a nice day.

It just so happens that you have the next two days off from work and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your foot still hurts from the baseball bat incident so you zone out in front of the TV for a while, trying to forget all of your problems. That doesn’t really work so the next best thing is to venture through the kitchen. You have snacks but not much else. Maybe it would be nice if you could fix John a nice dinner or something, for hanging out with you and like, protecting you from a shitty ex boyfriend. 

Some nice meat might do the trick. A nice steak with a potato and veggies. One thing grandma did that was awesome? Was to teach you how to cook. Wanting to actually cook was a different story for the last few years, the thought making you ill when you were practically a walking zombie, but now the thought excites you. It’s also different to cook for someone than just yourself because it’s usually not worth all the hassle.

Quickly, you get dressed and head out to the nearby grocery store. It's quiet and you take your time walking down the aisles with your cart, wondering what sorts of things John likes to eat. He probably stays healthy but a part of you thinks that he might have a sweet tooth. You grab everything you need, including some pie for dessert and head back home to get started.

There’s a ton of food so you text John to come over hungry and don’t eat any dinner. 

He doesn’t reply back immediately and your stomach starts to sink. What if this is too much? Is this weird? It’s just dinner, right? Friends have dinner together. John has to eat sometime. 

He eventually texts back a simple okay and you take it for what it is. There’s nothing you can do about it now, and since you’ve never really cooked in this kitchen before, if it turns out terrible you can always order pizza. 

It doesn’t turn out terrible, in your opinion, and you’re actually impressed with yourself. There’s a knock on the door right when you're finishing setting the table and John scolds you for not asking who it was before opening the door. He’s still in the middle of his speech when he gets a whiff of steak and sees that the table is set nicely. 

“What’s all this?” He asks, smoothing down his expensive silk tie. 

You pull out a chair for him to sit down. “It’s just a little thank you.”

He doesn’t look happy with that answer.

“It’s me making my friend dinner… randomly?” You try again. 

He laughs and nods, accepting that instead and removes his suit jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. “Do you mind if I…” He points to his waist and waits for you to nod before unclipping the belt, putting it in the bedroom for the night. 

“Wine? Beer?” You ask, debating which you want. 

“Usually I would, but…”

You understand that he’s working, even though he’d hate it if you said it aloud, and put them both away. “How about some ice tea?”

“Sure.” John sits and folds a napkin in his lap. He’s watching you and when you bring over a plate full of food there’s an unmistaken gasp. “Wow, this is amazing. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” You sit down too and pass him the salt and pepper. “I forgot how much fun it is to cook. I haven’t made anything since grandma was sick and I stopped eating. But today it was like she was in the kitchen with me.” You stop and close your eyes, embarrassed. “Sorry, that was weird to say.”

“Not the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He reminds you hesitantly, but with a small smile. 

Heat warms your cheeks and you have to chuckle in agreement. “True. I feel like that was so long ago though. I’m like a different person now. You must’ve thought I was crazy.” You don’t say that you’re grateful you accidentally gave your phone number to a police informant.  That it was John who showed up that day. That it wasn’t some crook who could’ve used a few hundred dollars. 

“I didn’t think you were crazy.” John takes a big bite of steak and moans a little. “This is really good. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a long time.”

“You don’t cook much?” You ask, waiting for him to make another noise of pleasure. 

“I hate cooking for just myself.” He says, but otherwise he is disappointingly quiet. 

You take a bite of vegetables and nod in agreement, trying to hide your swelling of excitement. Well, that’s that. He is single. No big deal, you tell yourself to calm the hell down in your head. It doesn't matter anyway. It’s not like anything would ever happen. “So, you didn’t think I was crazy? What did you think?”

John puts down his fork and looks at you, his chin resting on his hand thoughtfully. “I thought you looked really tired. That you needed help and had nowhere else to turn.”

You gently rub a finger under your eye, where you know there used to be darkened circles. Now your eyes are bright and alive. You blush at his observation. 

“What’d you think when you saw me?” He asks, interested again in his steak but keeping an attentive ear to everything you say.

You don’t know why, but you feel a surge of confidence. “I thought I was talking to the most attractive hitman in all of New York and that there was no way I could afford your... business.” 

John raises an eyebrow and laughs. “Really?”

Shrugging, you take another bite of food and swallow. “I don’t know what I was really thinking, honestly. It was not my best day. I just wanted to get the conversation over with. I wasn’t in the right mindset.” 

“But therapy is going well?” 

You’re not surprised that he knew about that, but it does make you pause that he actually asked. “Definitely. It’s going very well. And she’s a fan of you, by the way.”

“Me?” 

“Don’t worry, she thinks you're an undercover cop.” 

John leans over his plate, trying to get closer to you. “What exactly do you say about me?”

“That’s personal!”

“Fine.” He leans back now in his chair and crosses his arms, fake disappointment in a pout on his lips. “Then I won’t tell you about what I found out today.”

You glare at him. “Isn’t that blackmail?”

“Or extortion.” He shrugs, waiting for you to answer.

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes and sigh.  “I told her about all of the nice stuff you did for me, even though it was creepy, and how you probably saved my life.”

He blinks at that, obviously not expecting you to be so forward. “Oh. And what did she say?”

“She said to be careful about you breaking into my place and stealing my car… but that it sounded like I made a really good friend.”

John is suddenly silent and tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear. His voice is quiet when he finally speaks. “Just… just a friend?”

Your stomach does a little flip and you’re not sure where he’s going with this. “I’m pretty sure all I can have is friends right now.” You tell him slowly, trying to get all of your words exactly right. “I need to find my worth, be happy with myself… before I can do that for someone else, you know?”

John nods and his eyes are sad for a brief second but when he looks up at you, he’s proud. “I think that’s great. And I’m happy to help remind you that you’re pretty awesome.”

“Reminders are nice.” You tell him with a small smile. “Especially considering they come from a bad ass assassin.”

John chuckles and finishes his steak. He loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button of his dress shirt. He looks a little tired and you wonder what he did all day.

“So what were you going to tell me?”

“Oh, right. Max. He seems to be doing well. He’s living with his mom across town and he was spotted going into an AA meeting.”

You’re stunned. In a good way. “Really? He was always such a heavy drinker. That’s where I met him. At the bar across the street from the hospital. When visiting hours were over and I didn’t have to work, I’d go there a lot. And well, I guess he spotted a weak one.” You think back to those days when he was nice to you at first, which quickly changed into becoming manipulative and controlling. The final straw was when he said that you couldn’t visit your grandmother anymore. You lost it and he raised a hand at you, several times. You never want to be that weak. Ever again.  “Well that’s good news, right?”

“Yeah.” John rubs at his beard. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t relapse.”

You stand up and start to clear the dishes from the table. “So you don’t have to stay the night, probably.”

“No, I’ll stay at least one more night. Just to be safe.”

You give him a disapproving look. You really hate to waste his time.

“Seriously, I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I wasn’t here. One more night and I’ll be out of your hair.”

That’s not at all what you meant by giving him a look so you just shake your head. “It’s nice to have the company. I just don’t think my apartment is where you want to spend your nights.”

“And where exactly do you think I spend my nights?”

The sink is full of soap and John stands to clear the rest of the plates and cups. “I picture this really fancy nightclub or rave with techno music and neon lights and beautiful women dancing around you.”

John hands over a plate and looks at you like you’re nuts. “You have a very vivid imagination.”

“Oh, like that’s never happened.” You deadpan.

“Well, I can’t say never... “ John leans against the counter and offers to help you. 

“No, I got it but thank you. And also, I knew it. I just don’t see you like… dancing to techno music.” You make a face and stick out your tongue a little. You hate techno.

John laughs. “I don’t go there to dance. If I’m at a club or something it’s usually for work.”

“Ah, I see.” You move to get the dish rag to dry the silverware. “So, where do all the beautiful women throw themselves at you?”

He’s not really paying attention when he answers and he’s looking at something on the ground. “Well lately it’s been at a lake and a local gas station. Is that a bruise?” John bends down and slowly traces the swirls of black and blue colors on top of your foot. The touch stings a little but you hold still. 

“Oh uh... “ God, how stupid. You didn’t think it was that noticeable. “Yeah.”

“Your whole foot is swollen.” His eyes are huge when he stands up and looks at you, his hands on his hips. “What happened?” He growls out and you push past him, considerably embarrassed and turned on all at once. 

“I did it to myself, okay? It’s not a big deal.” 

“You’re limping.” He exasperates, but he gently puts an arm around your waist and helps guide you to sit down. You put your foot on the coffee table and it does look worse than it did yesterday, puffy and colorful. 

You grimince and don’t want to tell him. “It was just a silly accident. Sam at work already made fun of me, so let’s just forget it.”

John disappears to the kitchen and you can hear ice being gathered. He comes back and sits on the coffee table, slowly moving your foot to his lap and putting a towel full of ice by your toes, where the worst of the purples are blooming. 

“You really don’t have to do that. It’s not that bad. I was just on my feet all day and I didn’t think about it. It’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.”

His fingers are so gentle around your ankle and you can’t help but to stare at his big hand surrounding your delicate bones. “Hey.” John taps on your skin until you look up at him. “You’re worth being taken care of, okay?”

Well, he got you there damnit. “Oh, that’s a good one.” You’re impressed and you let him hold your foot, sitting back to relax. Your therapist would be really pleased that you let someone help you.

“Are you going to tell me or are we going to sit here all night?”

You briefly tell him how you got the bruise and his fingers stop tracing over your skin long enough for him to laugh. Loudly.

“It’s not that funny.” You scowl at him.

“It’s really funny.” He’s snickering now and you swear there’s a tear at his eye. He moves to wipe it away and mumbles something like, “you are the cutest... “ and then clears his throat and straightens up. “You’ll have to show me your moves.”

“Uh, no, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for tonight, thank you.”

John rubs at your ankle again, squeezing around your leg lightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be mean to the patient.”

“Exactly right.” You agree and smirk when you think of payback. “You gonna kiss it better?”

Without hesitation John takes off the towel and presses his lips to your cold skin. All you can do is stare at his beard and then at the teal nail polish on your toes. You’re speechless.

“It didn’t seem to work.” John says, disappointment in his voice. “I guess I’ll have to work on my technique.” 

He says that last part suggestively and you sit up in the chair, ready to change the subject. “I got dessert. You like pie, right?”

“Do I like pie? What kind of question is that?”

“Can you get it?” You smile sweetly at him. “It’s on the counter.”

He gives you a knowing look but lifts your foot to get up. You can see his reflection in the window as he moves around in your kitchen and you watch him in disbelief. You realize you’ve never had anyone in your apartment. Not even grandma, she was already too sick when you got it. Max always made you go to his place. John comes back with one plate and two forks, a big slice for both of you to share. 

“This is the best anyone has ever paid me to do a job.” He jokes and you smile back, taking a fork and scooping a bite for yourself. 

You point to an envelope on your desk. “Speaking of getting paid… I know it’s not much, but I did promise you--”

“I was kidding.” John cuts you off. His face is instantly annoyed and hurt. 

“John, please.” Your foot is still propped up on the coffee table and you can’t really move. “I just thought I’d offer.”

“Well, take it back.” He says and you put your hands up in defense, silently telling him not to be mad. “And you just lost pie privileges.” 

“What?”

He stands up and walks over to the couch, as far away from you as possible. “Yeah that’s right. I’m eating all of this myself.”

You huff and struggle to sit up. “That is a radical punishment.”

“You need to learn your lesson.” He takes another big bite, making a show of it. 

“That’s it.” You get up and hobble over to him, practically falling into his side and he lets out a grunt when you accidentally lean into his ribs. You decide to just lay where you are for now, you can’t move if you wanted to. “John, seriously. Pie please.”

He shakes his head with amusement and feeds you a small piece. You take it happily and let your head rest on his shoulder while he finishes and feeds you some more until it’s gone. Both of you are quiet. This is the closest you’ve ever been and you just want to feel his warmth. You know eventually you have to move so you peer up at him and smile. “You have blueberry on your lip.” You tell him, reaching to smudge it off with your thumb. At the same time he licks at it and you both laugh.

“C’mon, cripple. I’m helping you to bed.” He tells you, putting the plate and fork down on the coffee table. You use his thigh to get yourself up and he steadies your waist as you balance on one foot. You’re standing between his legs and he’s looking up at you with the sweetest eyes. 

“Thank you for dinner.” His voice is sincere and determined to get his appreciation across. 

You put your hands on his shoulders and lean some of your weight on him. “John… thank you. Thank you for everything.” And with that you let yourself drop down and you hug him hard. He pulls you close and rubs his hands over your back. His hair brushes your cheek and you breathe in deeply, his scent rushing to your head in the most pleasant high.

Awkwardly, you push yourself away and he grabs at your hands. “You want me to carry you to bed?”

You shoot him a glare and he laughs, letting you wobble towards your bedroom while he takes care of the dishes and turns out all the lights. 

When he’s satisfied everything is in the right place, he walks into your bedroom and stands in the doorway, watching you while you sit on the bed and tie your hair up over your head for the night.

“What?” 

John breaks his stare and walks around to the other side of the bed. “Nothing.” 

“Do you want to watch TV or something?” You ask, grabbing the remote to the set up you have on your dresser. You tend to fall asleep to sitcoms rather than complete silence with thoughts running through your mind at full speed. 

“Actually do you mind if I take a shower?” He asks. “I did a lot of running around.”

Your mouth goes dry and you try to get it together before he notices. “Did you get all sweaty tracking Max today?” You guess, smiling when he looks impressed that you got it right. “See, I could totally be an assassin!” Your smile fades when he points to your foot. “Okay, well I could be an assassin’s secretary. I could like, get all the payments and make appointments and travel arrangements and get your guns cleaned and all that stuff!”

He walks around to his bag and gathers a pair of clean sleep clothes. “And take care of all the dead bodies too?”

You gulp. That’s so disturbing. “Yep. And I could take you to the doctor if you get hurt real bad.” You think back to the bruised knuckles and the dried cut on his face.

He cocks his head to the side and thinks for a minute. “That does sound helpful.” 

“Really?”

“Yes and also dangerous. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You stand from the bed to get him a towel. “Um, just to let you know, I’ve seen all the assassin movies.”

“Oh, so you’re an expert.”

Opening your closet, you pull out the softest towel you own. “That sounds very sarcastic.” You push it to John's stomach and he grabs it from you, but you don’t let go and tug it back gently. “I’ll have you know I’m a very quick study, Mr. Wick.”

John briefly closes his eyes and takes a step closer to you. He leans in to whisper, his mouth close to your ear, “You better get off that foot.”

A giggle escapes and you sit down on the bed. “If I didn’t have a bruised foot... then could I be your secretary?”

He walks into the bathroom, and right when he closes the door he stops to tell you no.

Frowning, you crawl back to your pillows. You notice John forgot his pajamas on the bed and you’re about to get up and give them to him, but you decide not to. This should be interesting. 

You’re watching TV innocently when the bathroom door cracks open ten minutes later. Steam is hovering around John’s form and you hide your smile.

“Um… I forgot my…” He points to the clothes on the bed and you point to your foot. 

“I would help you, but I’m a cripple.” You tell him, now smiling because you can’t hide it anymore. You’re trying not to laugh. 

He glares at you when the door opens and you see the towel wrapped around his waist. 

“I swear I won’t look.” You tell him, covering your eyes. 

“Are we twelve now?” He mocks, stepping out and picking up his clothes. 

Your smile fades when you look at him because damn. “No, we are definitely not twelve.” You murmur to yourself, and you don’t mean to gock, but he’s fresh out of the shower, glistening skin and tight muscles, toned and strong. He pushes his hair from his face and notices you watching him. 

There’s a smug grin when he turns around and your heart completely skips a beat. All you see are flashes of tattoos, black lines and shading on his back. Maybe on his arms too but it was so fast. If you could only make time stand still. 

Now you’re glaring when he comes back into the bedroom a few minutes later. He’s glancing at you very casually. “What?”

“You did that on purpose.”

He laughs and gets under the covers. “What? Forget my clothes?”

“No. Showing off all of your…” You gesture to his body. “Never mind.” You can’t believe this is happening and turn towards the TV, trying to forget the hotness laying beside you. Nope. You can’t. “John, why are you doing this?”

He sits up a little. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you here? Why are you helping me?” There. You finally asked it. Here comes the pity party.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks, confused. When you don’t say anything, he asks another question. “Would you help me if I needed it?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yes, of course I would.”

“Well,” he lays back down and looks blankly at the TV. “There’s your answer.”

“But you hardly know me.”

He briefly glances at you. “Does it matter? I would want to help anyone. What are we watching?”

You laugh at how simple it was all this time. You should really stop overthinking everything. “Do you want to watch Friends or Seinfeld?”

“Who and what?” He asks, not knowing at all your favorite shows. 

You caress his cheek and pet him softly. “You poor, innocent man. I have a lot to teach you about laughing.”

He shoves your hand away playfully. “I watch TV… sometimes.”

“When you’re not doing assassin-y stuff.”

John sighs and closes his eyes. “Yes, when I’m not working.”

“Mmhm.” You don’t really believe him. You figure he reads a lot or studies, or does something really smart. Never really does anything just for fun. “We should totally go to a movie tomorrow!” You say it jokingly, like he would ever agree to something so mindless, but you can hardly believe it when he nods and says okay. “Really? You would go to a movie?”

“Isn’t that what friends do together, right?”

You wouldn’t have any idea. You don’t have friends and you haven’t been to the movies in ages. You hate going by yourself and you never had enough money.

“I think so?” You respond, not really knowing.

He lets out a little yawn. “All of my friends are… well, you know. I don’t see any of them going to a movie.”

“But you would?”

“With you? Yes. You’re not in the business, clearly.”

You throw a pillow at him,  but he quickly catches it and puts it behind his head. You mumble to yourself of course and turn off the light. “Just for that, I get to pick.”

He groans and you laugh as you tuck yourself in under the covers. You feel excited for tomorrow. Your therapist was right, you did make a good friend. Even if both of you have no idea what exactly that means. 

**

You’re still in bed when John is getting coffee from the kitchen, looking at your phone for movie times. “Don’t worry, I will not make you sit through a chick flick… or a disney movie… or a musical.” 

“Do you take cream and sugar?” John asks, popping his head into the bedroom. You nod yes to both and he disappears again.

“Oh! There’s a new sci-fi movie out. You like aliens, right? It looks scary too.” 

John comes back into the room with two steaming hot cups. He hands one to you carefully and you take a slow sip. “Mmm. This is really good, thank you.”

He looks pleased with himself as he gets back into your bed, sitting with his legs crossed under him. His hair is messed up a little and he’s still in his pajamas. The sight is really cute. You’re kind of sad that it was the last night he’s here. You quickly got used to him in your apartment and having someone to come home to was so nice. He already mastered your crappy coffee machine and he does the dishes. But the sleepovers are done and you wish it had lasted a little longer, purely for selfish reasons. 

You must be staring at him for too long because he stops drinking his coffee and gives you a small smile. “What?”

Dunking your head, you’re embarrassed that he caught you. “Nothing.”

He grins, like he can read your mind but doesn’t want to ruin the moment. “What time’s the movie?” 

“Let’s see…” You tap at your phone, scrolling through the options. “How about this afternoon? Then we could get something to eat or whatever.”

Now he’s really smiling and now he really does call you out. “Wouldn’t this be like… a date? Did you just ask me out on a date?”

“What!” You shriek and put your coffee down on the nightstand, stretching your leg over to try and push him off the bed, but he doesn’t move an inch and just laughs at you. “Oh. My. God.  Absolutely not, you weirdo. Why can’t two people just hang out? Jerry and Elaine do it all the time!” You point to the TV in your defense, trying to remind him of the show you watched last night. 

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” John puts his coffee down too and grabs your foot to inspect the bruise. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”

You roll your eyes, still not being able to fathom John Wick flirting with you. It’s probably all a joke to him anyway so you continue to ignore it. “What’s the verdict, Doc?”

He slides your pant leg up and takes a closer look. “Well, it’s not as dark as it was yesterday. Still a little swollen.”

“Told you it would be fine.”

“You’re welcome.” He cracks a smile and you remember the kiss he placed there last night. “Do you need anything else to feel better?”

“Ugh, gross.” Rolling your eyes even harder. “Your flirting is terrible.” 

He grabs at his heart like it hurts. “I take offense to that.”

“Good, that was the point.” You get up from the bed and open the closet, searching for something to wear today. “It’s probably the one thing you’re not good at.”

“I could be good at it.” He says, sipping his coffee again. “I’m just rusty. I need to practise.”

You don’t turn around. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” He repeats slowly, and then horrified, “Wait.. I’m not skeezy am I?”

That makes you laugh and you sit back down on the bed. “No, John. You’re not skeezy. You’re like the opposite of skeezy. You’re too nice to be skeezy.”

“I’m too nice?”

“Yeah.” You get up again and fiddle with your hair that’s fallen in your face. “I know you say these things just to be nice to me. I know it doesn’t mean anything. It’s sweet though, it’s fun. I get it.”

Slowly, he shakes his head, trying to comprehend your thoughts. “So, you’re saying I could never be serious about flirting with you?”

“Ha, not in this lifetime.” You gather your bathrobe and head for a shower. “Don’t worry, I’m not that stupid. I know exactly how far out of your league I am.”

Now John is the one rolling his eyes. You don’t give him a chance to say anything though and close the door to the bathroom, finally able to catch your breath a little. He still makes you nervous, you realize, and you hope the feeling fades the more time you spend with him because it seems like he needs a friend just as much as you do.

**

You’re brushing your teeth when John taps a knuckle on the door.

“Do you mind if we stop at my place before the movie?”

“You don’t want to wear a suit all day?”

“Not really.” He smiles. “And I have to pick up the dog.”

“Oh right!” You spit into the sink and wash your mouth. “I want some puppy kisses.”

John looks at your lips and then to your eyes. It’s fast, but you still see it. And if you didn’t he mutters, “tease” and leaves to go out the front door.

You grab your purse on the way out and he waits patiently for you to lock the door behind you. He has his bag with him and you’re disappointed it’s not still in your apartment. You wonder if he’s wearing all of his guns and try to sneak a peek under his suit jacket at his waist. You’re not paying attention so you run smack into his back when he stops for the elevator. 

Yep, he’s wearing one gun because you feel it hit your stomach. He looks at you oddly and reaches a hand out to steady you.

“Do you always carry a gun when you go places?”

“Usually.”

“Do you ever have to use it?”

“Sometimes.”

The elevator ride down is quiet and you wave to Francis walking by in the hallway. John nods towards him too, like they have some sort of secret understanding. 

His car is glistening in the sun and you have to admit, it is a pretty sweet ride. John opens the door for you after he throws his bag in the trunk and you move carefully, afraid you might scratch the paint job. You fold yourself neatly in the seat and stay still. 

He smoothly gets in and before you can process about how annoyingly attractive he is, the engine roars to life and he’s speeding out of your complex onto the main road. You have a hard time not watching his hands because his fingers are long and look good around the steering wheel. He drives fast but not enough to make you nervous and glances at you a few times to make sure you’re okay. You don’t say much but it’s a comfortable silence with the windows down. You watch the town go by as you start to relax. 

It’s only about a ten minute drive until the car pulls up to the most gorgeous house you’ve ever seen. Of course, this is where John would live. In a house built with huge windows and high ceilings, with a big open yard that’s perfectly manicured. 

He parks in the driveway but still pushes a button so the garage door goes up. 

“C’mon, I’ll only be a minute.” He tells you and curiosity gets the best of you because you had planned to stay in the car. 

“Are you sure? I can wait here.”

“Why?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, obvious that he thinks your question was dumb, and he moves around to open your door again. 

“Such a gentleman.” You praise, not being able to help yourself. You can’t remember the last time anyone opened anything for you.

He smiles and leads the way into the house. “Well, I try.”

“This is really pretty.” You tell him, stepping into a long hallway where you can see the living room off to one side and the kitchen off to the other. 

“You want the tour?” He asks, throwing his keys into a glass bowl and taking his suit jacket off. There are actually two guns on his belt, the one on his right hip you hadn’t seen. 

“No, it’s okay. Just seeing the downstairs is enough to make me depressed about my small apartment.”

John scoffs and opens the front door to let in some air. “I like your place. It’s comfortable there. And the cooking’s really good.”

You laugh and he steers you more into the kitchen, which is huge with a tile floor and what looks like all new appliances. “I’d love to cook in this kitchen. There’s so much room!”

“Yeah?” He stops and looks at you very seriously. “You officially have an open invitation to cook here any time.”

“Ha ha.” You push at his shoulder and walk to the big wood dining table, looking around. There are a bunch of picture frames, but they’re all in a pile on a shelf by the coffee maker. You wonder what kind of pictures he has and why they aren’t on display. You don’t want to be nosy though, so you run your finger over the espresso machine that looks like it cost more than a month of pay. “Marry me?” You bend over and ask it, breathing in deeply the scents of coffee. 

John laughs and points at a smaller hallway. “Laundry is through there.” He points at a door. “Basement.” He walks through the kitchen and into the living room, which is sparse but still lovely. You wonder if he decorated this place himself or if he had help. 

“Evening entertainment.” He points to the TV even though you see a stack of heavy books on the coffee table, some of them well read. “Upstairs?” He asks, starting for the staircase. You shrug, trying not to seem eager and interested. 

The amount of sunlight the house gets is incredible. There are windows everywhere, but you can’t see any neighbors and it’s fairly quiet. This is like your dream house. 

“Wow.” It’s all you can say when you enter the master bedroom. A huge bed in the middle that looks so very soft. There’s a sitting couch and table, with a bureau next to the walk in closet. The view is fantastic and you can even see the lake from here. You walk to the other side of his bedroom and almost press your face against the glass. “You live right across from the community college campus! That’s so cool!” 

John is in his closet, probably getting new clothes for the day, but you can hear him say, “Yeah?”

“Yeah! You could walk there if you wanted to! Save a ton on parking.” You mutter, more to yourself. 

Suddenly he’s right behind you, now in a white cotton shirt with long sleeves. “What do you mean?”

“I applied to go to school in the fall. I want to take some classes, maybe try for a degree or something. My place is far, so it’ll be a hassle but that’s okay.” You tug on the hem of his shirt as you walk by him, throwing your purse on the bed. “What else is up here?” You ask, peering down another long hallway.

He has a proud look in his eyes and he’s still gapping at you a little. “I didn’t know you’re going back to school.”

“Oh, something you finally didn’t know, I can’t believe it.”

“Well, I saw the application on your kitchen table but I didn’t want to assume.”

You laugh because of course he did. “Were you snooping, John Wick?”

“Never. I just observe.”

“Oh, I see.”

He opens the door to an empty bedroom with no furniture. “This was supposed to be a guest room but I never got around to it.”

“What about that room?” You point to the door at the end of the hallway. 

“My office.”

“Ooh. Do you have assassin secrets in there?” You smile teasingly and walk back to his bedroom to get your purse. 

“No, those are in the basement.”

Laughing, you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. You don’t think he is. 

The windows are calling again and you can’t help but to take one more look of the view. “This is just so nice. You have everything in walking distance. The lake, the school…”

There’s a beat of silence before he says, “You should move in here.”

That makes you throw your head back and really laugh. How funny. “John, don’t be stupid.”

“How is that stupid?” He asks, his tone is serious but kind. “There’s an empty room. You can walk to school. You can watch the dog for me when I go on… work trips. You would have a kitchen to cook in.”

This man seems to keep surprising you. “You’ve only known me for like a month. What if I smell bad or something?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “You smell amazing.”

“What if I play loud music really late at night?”

“You can’t keep your eyes open past ten.”

“What if I have parties all weekend long?”

“While you work and go to school? Be my guest.”

“What if I’m messy and leave my clothes everywhere?”

John’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “Did you just pretend to be neat while I was at your place for two days?”

He’s right, you do like a clean house. “Whatever, John.” Hoping that he drops it. “Don’t you have to get the dog?”

“Damn, stay here. I’ll be right back. Their house is just down the street.” He runs down the stairs and you can hear the screen door open and shut. 

You look around the bedroom again and take it all in. What a completely different life this would be. Not that you don’t like your apartment. It’s cozy and you’re proud of what you’ve established for yourself. This is too fancy for you anyway. Plus, you like having your space. John would be the weirdest roommate ever. You can’t even imagine. 

You jog down the stairs to wait on the couch. You spot some more picture frames stacked nicely in a pile and you’re just about to sneak a look when you can hear them approach the house.

“Puppy kisses!” You cry out and kneel down to gather a happy dog in your arms. If you had any idea this was the dog driving you mad all those nights, you would have taken him for yourself. 

“Pooch! Get down.” John’s Alpha voice is hot and both you and the dog stop everything. 

He trots over to his doggy bed anyways and plops down. “Cassey, the little girl, wore him out at the park this morning.” John says. “Are you ready to go?”

The movie! You had almost forgotten with all the excitement of being in John’s house.

“Yeah, let’s do it. And don’t worry, I’ll protect you. Don’t get scared.” You tell him, in a bravado voice. 

“Can we get gummy bears?” He asks and you crack up on the way back to the garage. 

“You’re a grown man, you can get whatever you want.”

John hurries to open the car door for you again. “I meant, would you have any or would you like something else?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, that’s a big decision.” You slide back into the car and think to yourself that you could really get used to the chivalry John is showing. You wonder how long it could last. “I think I have to see all my options.”

John smiles as he starts the car and lowers the garage door. “This is really serious.”

You fasten your seatbelt and get comfortable. “When’s the last time you went to a movie?”

He turns his head to back out of the driveway, putting his arm around your seat. His face is very close to yours and you notice that his eyes are a very pretty brown when he’s not working. 

“Good point.”

You grin, breaking the eye contact because it’s making your stomach fill with butterflies that you mentally quiet down. 

The theater is busy and you realize it’s a Friday during summer, so all the teenagers are here. John’s phone rings as he parks and tells you he has to take it, so you decide to get in line and buy the tickets. He’s leaning against his car, chatting while looking around at his surroundings and smiles at you when he catches you checking on him. 

You quickly see that the movie is sold out and not knowing what to do, you walk back to John and the car just as he’s finishing his conversation. It sounds like he was speaking in Russian, but you can’t be sure. “All set?” He asks, sliding the phone in his pocket and reaching to put his hand on your back. He hardly ever really touches you, but his hand hovers over your body constantly. 

“It’s sold out.” You tell him. “Do you want to see something else or maybe come back another day?”

“Oh.” He looks disappointed. “But you really wanted to see that movie.”

“It’s okay, shit happens, right?” You shrug it off easily. This is not the worst thing that could happen. Plus, you’re hanging out with John, so you could be going to the town dump and you’d be happy.

“Hold on. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He takes off towards the theater and leaves you by the car. You watch him go and it’s almost like he’s in slow motion again. You wonder how just his stride oozes that much confidence. 

In a few minutes he’s back with two tickets. “Here we go. C’mon.”

“How’d you do that?” You dumbly follow him to the theater doors and he guides you to walk in front of him.

“It’s a secret. What do you want?”

You’re still staring at him in a silent awe as he looks at the refreshment stand. A beautiful young worker comes to help and John’s gaze is just on you.

“Um… gummy bears? Right?” You ask him, trying to snap out of it. “That’s what you wanted?”

He leans in close, dark hair falling into his eyes. “I’m asking what you want.”

You don’t really remember what the hell you say, but somehow John pays and leads you down a long hallway and to your seats. Now he’s really close to you and the smell of his cologne is making your legs weak. 

“You okay?”

“Yes!” It comes out too fast but you realize you’re acting weird and need to get with it. 

John nods and crosses his long legs, sitting back in the chair and shifting towards you, whispering as advertisements play on the big screen. “I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“Do friends hold hands at the movies?”

You close your eyes. “No, John. They do not.”

“Not even when I scored tickets that were sold out?”

You lean in to him and smile. “If you tell me how you did that, I might reconsider the answer to your question.”

“Hmm…” He runs fingers over his beard as he thinks. “I talked to the manager.”

“And?”

“And I paid him.”

“John!”

“What? You wanted to know, so I told you.”

You shake your head in disbelief as the lights lower and the movie starts. “You’re crazy.”

He doesn’t disagree with you, but he does turn towards the screen, still touching your elbow throughout most of the first half of the movie. When it gets really creepy, he covers his mouth every time you jump in your seat, hiding his smile. 

You somehow get closer to his shoulder, shielding your eyes and turning into his body when you jump again, grabbing onto his arm. The muscles you feel are solid, and you technically knew they were there, you just never really considered them before. And you are definitely considering them now. 

John lets you hold on to him, and even offers to hold your hand when the movie winds down and you link his pinky with yours, not wanting to totally turn him down. He seems satisfied with that and smoothes his thumb down your hand a few times before the credits roll.

“That was so good!” You exclaim, getting up from your seat and stretching. “I forgot how fun the movies are!”

“You were scared.” John teases, playfully shaking your hand with his. 

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Whatever, you were scared too.” You tell him, pushing the heavy doors open and heading to his car. The sky is darker now and the wind has picked up, chilling your arms. You wish you had brought a sweater.

“I was definitely not scared.” John laughs, his hand hovering over your back again. You feel it because you stop for a car and his arm is suddenly pressed into your waist. He moves quickly though, opening the door for you to get inside. 

He turns on the heat as soon as he can and asks where you want to eat. 

“It’s up to you. I could go for anything.”

“Sushi?”

That surprises you and you can’t help but look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t know John Wick likes sushi. I see you more of an all meat kinda guy.”

“I have a very sophisticated pallet.”

“Oh, my mistake.” You laugh and tell him to lead the way. 

He takes you to a really nice place and you talk about the movie and the food all throughout dinner. It’s nice, not forced, and fun. These past two days, even with the weird circumstances, have been really fun. You want to pay for the dinner, but of course John beats you to it without you even realizing until it’s far too late. You glare at him and tell him that friends usually split the check. He apologizes with a sparkle in his eye and you know he’s not sorry at all.

When John pulls up to your apartment you thank him for such a great day. 

“Are you sure you’re not going to be scared?” He asks, after telling you he had fun today too.

“Yes, John.”

“I could spend the night again, just to make sure.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine. And you have to get back to Pooch.”

“You could spend the night at my place.” John offers, completely innocent but realizes what he says and adds, “I could take the couch, of course.”

“Good bye, John.” You tell him and he wants you to let him know if you need anything, or if you hear from Max. “I will.” Waving, you open the car door before he can get out and do it for you. The walk up to your apartment is quiet and just a little lonely. 

Once you get inside it’s worse, but you try to ignore it. Instead, you lay in bed where John had slept and cuddle the pillows. 

He texts you once he’s home, to make sure you made it to the apartment okay.

You didn’t let me walk you upstairs, he texts with a sad face.

Instead of telling him that you’re a grown up or you don’t need his protection, you simply text back next time. 

You really hope there’s a next time.

TBC Chapter 3

[justcourttee]

And They Were Roommates-Pt 8

Marinette didn’t know what to think. The Damian she met two weeks ago had disappeared, and in his place was the charming man she had grown to love over the past three years. It made her doubt everything she thought she knew about their relationship.

The first night had been hard. She woke several times in tears to the point that her pillowcase was soaked through. She could hear his level breathing from outside her door, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to face him.

The second night was worse. Night terrors began to set in and she found herself reaching out for company, even if it was his. She met him on the couch and curled into his side like she did a hundred times before with Chloe and Adrien. He seemed to understand as he didn’t push her to talk, only let her use him for comfort.

By the third night, she was able to have a conversation with him, longer than the awkward five minutes they had managed the other day. He finally opened up about his family, even telling her his real last name, Wayne.

“Why go by Al Ghul then?”

“Most people here Wayne and think money and favors, it’s unpleasant and draining. If I want a fresh start, I use my mother’s name, but it eventually falls through and I have to move all over again.”

“But why run from your family so often? I’d do anything to see mine one more time.”

Her eyes teared up, but she shook her head quickly, trying to stop before they really started. Damian studied her for a moment before offering her a small smile.

“They’ve always been very overwhelming. I went from high expectations with my mother to even higher expectations from my father. He wanted me to unlearn everything she had taught me and became angry and disappointed when I didn’t head in his every direction.”

He paused, noticing the tears still lingering on her eyelashes. Gently, he reached forward, brushing them away.

“Mother was to obey or be killed, which sounds terrible, but someone I liked better in a sense. At least I knew that any disappointment would be dealt with directly, nothing less. Father was angry, taking his anger out indirectly through comments and tough training, but the disappointment was worse. He’d compare me to his other kids, all adopted nonetheless, but it didn’t matter. He held them with high respect and praised them often.”

“That-” Marinette paused, unsure if she wanted to continue, but his smile was inviting her to speak her mind. “That sounds awful. Expectations are supposed to be set by yourself, not your parents. They’re just supposed to be there for support and the occasional guidance.”

“Is that how your parents were?”

Marinette bit her lip, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

“I’m sorry Angel, I wasn’t sure if you were ready to talk yet. I won’t bring it up again until you say you’re ready.”

“No,”she shook her head, much to his surprise. “I need this.”

Taking a deep breath, Marinette dove in, taking several small pauses to wipe away her tears.

“My parents were so supportive of everything I ever did. I tried sports when I was younger and while I wasn’t bad, it wasn’t my passion. My mother bought me an art set when I turned nine and it was like magic. All of a sudden, the world was whatever I wanted it to be. When I turned eleven, I discovered designing. I mentioned it once to them and when I came home from school, there was a dressing mannequin and a sewing machine sitting in my room.”

Her eyes glazed over as she stared at her hands in her lap. It seemed like such a distant memory at this point. His hand reached into her sight, moving toward her’s.

“May I?”

She nodded as she watched him intertwine their fingers. He waited patiently for her to continue, rubbing small circles into the back of her hand using his thumb.

“I was so happy with them. When I first was given the scholarship offer for Metropolis University, I didn’t know what to think. Chloe’s mother offered me a mentee spot if I traveled overseas, seeing as the flight to New York was only an hour from here. My parents knew what it meant for my possible future in the fashion industry, and to them, it was a no brainer. It was hard seeing them only for the breaks and then even harder when Professor Brookes offered me a spot in her workfield.”

“Your parents sound amazing. The way I grew up was- unconventional to say the least. I can’t even imagine where I would be today if I had that kind of support.”

A small smile stretched across Marinette’s face as her eyes rose to meet his.

“You sound like Chloe and Adrien.”

“They were close to your parents as well?”

“Adrien grew up in a very unconventional lifestyle as well. His mother disappeared when he was 12, leaving his father a broken man. He distanced himself from Adrien, only communicating with him when business was involved. Adrien tried to come out to him when we turned 16, but he scorned him, telling him he was confused and that he either dropped the subject or Gabriel would deal with it himself.”

Damian frowned, his eyebrow furrowing at her words.

“That’s ridiculous, his father could be runner up to my mother for worst parent of the year.”

“Yeah, Gabriel sucks. He still does. My parents allowed him to crash at my house that night, and every night after that they insisted he came over for dinner. They talked him through his teenage years, offering him advice and unconditional love. It was exactly what he needed to go public about his sexuality, my parents on either side of him at the press conference, offering support where they could. There was nothing his father could do at the point; if he spoke out, he would be seen as homophobic. Adrien held my parents on such a high pedestal after that.”

“And what about Chloe?”

Marinette shook her head, a small laugh escaping, shocking the two of them.

“Chloe used to be a terror when we were younger, but to be fair, she was being enabled at every turn. Her mother was a workaholic, never around and her father was a corrupt politician. She bullied me alot.”

Damina raised his eyebrow, but Marinette simply waved him off.

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s what everyone said when I offered to be her roommate in college. ‘How can I be her friend after that?’ It’s simple. When we were 14, she really fell off the deep end. She helped Gabriel do some very terrible things out of her feelings of anger and loneliness. Everyone resented her for it, and even her own parents turned their backs on her. Instead of offering her help, they left her even lonelier than before.”

Marinette leaned forward, picking up a picture frame from the table. Leaning over, she allowed Damian to take a closer look. The picture depicted a happy family. Marinette’s parents in the back with Marinette and the two blondes in front of them. The moment frozen as everyone was caught mid laugh at some unseen humor.

“Chloe fell into a depressive state and one night, my mother found her on our doorstep, tears pouring down her eyes. My parents brought her inside, wrapped her in a large blanket and offered her a mug of hot cocoa. They knew who she was, they knew what she had done, but they could never leave her outside, they could never leave a child alone. She apologized for everything, telling me how her therapy helped her realize how terrible she was when we were younger. She was genuine.”

“How could you tell?”

Marinette pulled the picture close to her chest, a tear slipping from her eye.

“Chloe was a lot of things, but she never lied to me. She always believed in what she was saying, no matter how crazy it was. That night was a new beginning. It was rocky at first, but between myself and Adrien, we helped her back onto her feet. Pretty soon, she joined family dinners too. We did it every night for two years and I can’t tell you how much joy it brought to everyone, especially my parents. The one thing they loved more than each other, was loving others.”

A few more tears slipped out before she could stop them. It felt like she ripped off a bandaid she forgot was there. She knew her friends needed to know, Damian’s grim stare confirmed he was thinking the same thing. But it was too much. It was still too raw and the emotions swimming in her head from their deaths and from Damian’s confession. She couldn’t help them through their grief. Not yet.

“Marinette, I could tell them if you would like.”

She shook her head as she closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing again.

“It’s something I should do. I just need one more night.”

He nodded in understanding, not pushing the matter anymore, something she was grateful for. Marinette sat down the picture and picked up the pen beside it. She handed it to Damian before settling back into the couch.

“Could you draw me something?”

“What would you like me to draw?”

Marinette shook her head, leaning in his direction.

“Anything.”

And so he began, sketching on his wrist, his eyes occasionally glancing over at hers as she watched her own wrist intently. He watched her eyes start to flutter shut only to fly open as she fought the exhaustion. But it was a losing battle as she finally fell into his side, soft breaths escaping her parted lips. He placed the finishing touches before capping the pen, tossing it gently to the coffee table.

“Goodnight Angel.”

He reached over to the lamp, pulling the string hard, plunging them into darkness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   Marinette sat up abruptly to the sound of the banging on her door. Her first instinct was to reach into the drawer under the coffee table, pulling out a small pink container. She stood to move closer as a second round of banging commenced. Her eyes darted back to the couch where Damian had sat last night.  

It was empty, a small piece of paper on the coffee table promised her that he would return soon. Creeping towards the peephole, Marinette took a cautious look, only to find it covered by whoever was outside. With a deep breath, Marinette flung open the door, raising the pink container to her defense.

Her would be assailant fell to the ground, grabbing his eyes as he let out a string of curses that would’ve expelled him from any school he could’ve ever attended. She looked up to find two more startled figures, both had their hands held in a surrender position. Marinette lowered her defense, her eyes narrowing at the two men.

“Who are you?”

“She really pepper sprayed me! You guys promised it would just aggravate Demon Spawn, you didn’t tell me I would be assaulted!”

The man on the ground sat up, still rubbing his bloodshot eyes, tears pouring down his face.

“I’ll ask you one more time, and just to be clear, you give me anything other than an answer to my question and I don’t need the pepper spray to kick your sorry asses. Who. Are. You?”

Two of them shared a panicked look, neither daring to move to help the third man up.

“Well you see sunshine, you are not who we were expecting either, in fact-”

The man with the bloodshot eyes rose only to be slammed into the wall by the girl. Marinette gripped his arm tightly behind his back, pushing his front side further into the concrete wall. Leaning all of her weight into him, she ignored his cries to ‘tap out’, her glare demanding a better answer from the remaining two.

The smaller one nudged the taller guy forward, neither looking eager to talk.

“Well you see, it’s a funny story really-”

“I’m losing my patience.” Marinette pulled her hostage’s arm further back, causing another string of curses.

“It’s just that-”

“They’re my idiot brothers.”

Marinette turned her head to see Damian standing behind them, an amused expression evident on his face. He was holding a tray with two coffees in them, a bag from Marinette’s favorite bakery in his other hand.

Horrified, Marinette let go of the man, allowing him to drop to the ground, rubbing his shoulder as he scooted away from her.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. It’s just between the banging on the door and then covering the peephole, I just assumed the worst. Please, come in, I’m so sorry.”

Marinette repeatedly apologized as she moved to help her poor victim up off the ground. 

“Don’t offer him help habibti, you’re too generous. Leave him on the ground.”

She shook her head, gently gripping the man’s good arm as she helped him to his feet. He moved quickly out of her grasp, his expression a mixture between weary and respect.

Damian stepped in front of her, his glare causing each man to fold in on themselves, none expect the man from the ground even dared to meet his eyes.

“Besides, you were asking the wrong question. It doesn’t matter who they are, it only matters what they’re doing here and how soon can they leave?”

Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ladybug-182 @fusser90 @thestressmademedoit @dast218 @thezestywalru @jardimazul @olynix @dorkus-minimus @xahriia @kris-pines04 @urbanpineapplefarmer @moonlightstar64 @itsmeevie01 @little-lady-bird @alexandriamw @lozzybowe @emmdaenovice @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @jessigurl-design @aegyobutpsycho2 @stark-morgoona @tis-i-beanbandit @rebecarojas07 @abrx2002 @ash-amg @loveswifi @heaven428 @dreamykitty25 @marinettepotterandplagg @smolplantmum @clumsy-owl-4178 @books-and-left-behind-journals @joejoejodee @iloontjeboontje @maybemanymuffins @zalladane @mysupporthyperfixations 

[onelastbreath-writes]

I Spy (2)

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

Summary (lite): You literally fall for a guy you meet in a bar, and everything is going great until you learn both of you have been lying about who you are and what you do. Oof. (SpecOps&Spies AU with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Wow part one got a lot of love, thank you so much! And now I also have a taglist going for this fic, so let me know if you want to be tagged the next time I post. This chapter is basically just fluff with a bit of background plot,,, i’ve created both a slow burn, and a 100 metre sprint of a relationship for y’all, so be prepared for that. Depending on what I manage to get into the next chapter, aka if i can finish the story or if i wimp out, there will either be 3 or 4 chapters total, and if i like the universe enough I might have some bonus content in the future. Nothing is set in stone so don’t start counting your chickens yet, but like... maybe. Anyways, I hope you enjoy part 2 of Let Me Have Nice Things I Spy <3

PS it is 3:45am when I’m posting this, please forgive me if its actually just weird thnxxxx

[AO3A][Masterlist]

[Previous Part]

---

“Water with a wedge of lemon, please,” you ordered as you and Frankie claimed a bar stool each at the counter.

“And a coke for me, thank you.”

The drink offer was always a toss up for you; a good way to measure the type of guy interested in your company. Even if you hadn’t decided that you were done with the alcohol tonight, you would still have ordered a water on your date’s dime. It was a simple test of character that more than a few guys had failed in the past. Were they looking to get you drunk, or were they willing to respect your choices? Frankie, so far, had done nothing but respect you.

Your drinks arrive quickly, and the cool glass feels refreshing in your hands. You still feel warm from your brief contact with the handsome man beside you, but after peaking at him from the side of your eyes, you can see that his ears and cheeks also have some red to them as well.

Frankie accepts his glass and angles himself towards you, bumping his knee lightly to yours and offering you another sweet smile. “Would it be presumptuous of me to offer a cheers? To meeting new people? Or I’ve got some great, really catchy and not at all cheesy pick-up lines, if that’s more your style?”

You snorted a laugh at his teasing but held out your drink for him to clink his against, “To meeting new people, then. And please, I have extremely high standards so only your best lines will appease me.”

“Ah, a connoisseur! Well then, please prepare to be amazed,” Frankie swivelled around to fully face you, ran a hand through his hair, fluffing his curls and pushing them away from his face, and cleared his throat for dramatic effect. “You blinded me with your beauty, so I’m going to need your name and number for insurance purposes.”

Your plan was to hold out, not to crack against whatever corny, horribly cliché thing he was going to say to you. You’d been given them all, and had never had much trouble before, even with guys as attractive and cute as Frankie. You had a great poker face, and could keep yourself together like a pro. There was nothing he could say to you that would break your façade. And then he opened his mouth, and you were gone.

“Oh my god! That’s so bad!” You were shaking, gasping while trying to contain and smother your laughter. You hadn’t thought to put your drink down before he started, and you could feel the liquid sloshing around the glass in your hand. Frankie, thankfully, noticed your problem, and gently wrapped his fingers around your wrist to steady your grasp. He helped you set the drink down safely, before pulling your still jittering limb away from further potential accidents. And then, he just didn’t release you.

He had slipped his hand into yours and was running his thumb over your knuckles.

As if your cheeks weren’t warm enough already.

What is it with this guy? You just couldn’t catch a break.

“Okay?” Can I keep holding your hand?

“Yes,” Please don’t let me go.

---

“And so, we’re just, like, full-tilt sprinting to catch this last train. And of course, its raining cats and dogs, so the sidewalk is slippery as hell, and Santi’s down a shoe so he’s splashing around in his sock, and then we hit the stairs up to the platform, and the train is pulling out…” You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled so much but listening to Frankie’s stories about his friends and their misadventures was making your cheeks ache.

You had been trading stories for ages, back and forth and jumping all over your lives to tell each other your greatest hits. Something between you two had just clicked, and it felt like you’d known him forever.

Early in the conversation you’d discovered he was his buddies’ designated driver, and would be on non-alcoholic beverages all night, but offered you anything you would like if you wanted more than water. You’d of course thanked him, but refused, stating your own reasons for sobriety. And that’s the point you got into talking about your careers.

“The guys wanted to get wasted during shore leave, and I’m not big on drinking so I offered to be their ride this time.” He was rather adorably touchy-feely with you, currently playing with your fingers and drawing on your palm absentmindedly.

“Shore leave? So, you’re military then?” That would explain the callouses and healed scars on his hands that you’d also been acquainting yourself with.

“Army, yeah,” Frankie had pointed out his group of hooligans across the room, playing what he’d told you was ‘Extreme Darts’. “Me and Santi were best friends in high school and enlisted together, and then we met Will and Benny in basic training. We worked together well enough to get us assigned to Tom’s squad and the rest’s history.”

“Then you’re still on active duty, right?” You couldn’t say you knew much about how a military contract worked, beyond what you’d seen in movies and on TV, but you knew soldiers were required to do a certain amount of service before they could retire; baring career-ending events that would get them discharged, of course. “When does shore leave end?”

“Ah, that’s a little complicated to explain, actually. We’re technically active soldiers still, but after our last deployment ended, we signed back on as like, uh, contractors. Sort of like on-base reservists? We help out where we can but don’t really see much in-field work, you know?” He was definitely struggling to describe his job to you, and you could imagine there was a lot of red tape and confidentiality around anything military he was doing, so you just nodded along and let him drop it. “But we still have a couple weeks stateside before we ship back out.”

You hummed at that, thinking over your own known schedule. “I can’t say I’ll have much time off before you need to leave, but I would like to see more of you, if you’re agreeable?” There was something special about this guy, and whether you were just friends or something more eventually, you didn’t want to waste your opportunity to have him in your life. Long distance anything was a lot of work, but you wanted him to know you were willing to try if he was.

“Do you like raisins? How would you feel about a date?”

---

That was how your unconventional romance with Frankie Morales started. You’d talked all night, and when the bartender kicked you and your groups out at closing time, he and his friends helped get your girls into their cabs. And once they were all taken care of, he had offered you his arm and walked you to your car like a proper, posh gentleman.

“Goodnight, paloma, thank you for such a wonderful evening.”

You had given him your business card, personal phone number and a flirty call me xx written on the back, and he in turn lifted your hand to brush a delicate kiss to your knuckles with a teasing wink. You went home that night mildly concerned you’d spontaneously combust from the heat blazing through your body. That man was a menace, and he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

He had called the next evening, and from there you spent as much time as you could together. Coffee dates, dinner and movie nights, even a walk in the park like some fairy-tale couple; he always greeted you with a bad pick-up line to make you smile, and a left you with a kiss on the hand at the end of your outings.

It was three wonderful but short weeks later that he got his ship-out date.

You were back at the dive bar where it all started, your friend (and some of her friends) and his all together again, to celebrate their last night of leave. The bar had unofficially become your ‘spot’, and you’d visited a few more times over the weeks, both as private dates and as group activities to get to know the rest of his squad.

It was bittersweet, saying goodbye to your new friends and your, well, Frankie. You had both agreed not to put labels or promises into your relationship until you were sure, and you were fine with that in the beginning when you were still strangers just interested in spending time together. But now you knew him, now you had feelings to back up your attraction to him, and now, he was leaving for who knows how long and you didn’t know if he felt the same way about you.

He must have noticed something was upsetting you, because he excused himself from his buddies’ conversation and held out a hand to help you up out of your chair.

“Join me for some fresh air, hermosa?” He was as courteous as ever as he led you outside into the chilled night, offering you his jacket and his side to cuddle into when you shivered. He was good at reading you by now and could tell when you wanted to work up to saying something without prompting, so he stayed silent and let you organize your thoughts.

You were struggling with your plan, with what you wanted to say to him, ask of him. He was rubbing your shoulder and you reached up to lace your fingers together, remembering the first time you held hands here at the bar…

Please don’t let me go.

That was your answer then, and it was still your answer now. You wanted him to keep holding your hand, now and for however much longer he could. You just needed to tell him that. Easy peasy. And because he’d made a sentimental dork out of you with his unending lines, you couldn’t think of a better way to confess to him. You looked up and met his eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in them.

“I must be a snowflake, because I’ve fallen for you.”

He untangled your fingers from his, pulling his arm away from where it was draped warmly over your shoulders, and took a step back to face you head on.

Oh gods, you wanted to rewind time and stop yourself from opening your big mouth, I’ve ruined it all.

Frankie snagged both of your wrists in his hands, startling you out of your downwards spiral as he tugged you close to his chest. He was staring down at you, brows furrowed and lips pursed seriously. Your hands were pressed between you, resting against his sternum over his steadily beating heart.

“Feel my shirt. It’s made of boyfriend material.”

And then you were both gone, laughing so hard you had tears in your eyes and grins splitting your faces as you held each other close.

You hadn’t ruined anything after all; you could cry you were so relieved.

Once you’d both managed to settle down, he leaned in and rested his forehead against yours, his own shiny eyes meeting yours earnestly. “I’m a terribly selfish man to ask this of you, but would you wait for me? Will you give us a chance? Exclusively?”

“Yes.”

Your first kiss together was there, on that cold night outside the bar where everything changed. It was soft and sweet, and you couldn’t wait for more.

---

Taglist:

@playbucky​

[honeypwark]

[ Night Night ]

  ↳ Roller Coaster era (late Jan-early Mar 2019)

       ↳ Lily arrives right on time for NCT Night Night. JohnJae is whipped. Lily talks about promoting solo.

m.list

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After a rather stressful salon visit and practically shoving herself into the outfit her stylist gave her, Lily raced to the recording studio home to NCT Night Night, among other radio shows. Normally, guests enter at the beginning of the ad break preceding their introduction. However, those commercials are over halfway over by the time Lily is shown into the recording studio.

Simultaneously, two voices shout, “Lily Leeeeeeeeee!”

Lily laughs, NCT Night Night’s very tall hosts, Johnny and Jaehyun, standing to greet her. Normally, she wouldn’t think twice before hugging her best friend’s older members in greeting but she knows there’s a live video feed, so she keeps to the more formal bow and handshake.

“You’re late,” Johnny says.

“Would you be insulted if I told you I forgot and fell asleep?” Lily asks.

“Yes.”

“Then it was traffic.”

The three of them laugh and Lily walks around to sit across from Johnny and Jaehyun. She sits and, careful of her recently styled hair, puts her headphones on. For a moment, all she can hear is someone advertising super fast pizza delivery service. She looks up and sees Jaehyun saying something and motioning toward his head.

“Ah,” she says in understanding, moving one side of the headphones off her ear.

She doesn’t notice Johnny and Jaehyun looking at her fondly as she fixes her hair. A few staff members rush into the room, adjusting the cameras facing Lily down, having estimated where she would be sitting too high while waiting for her. Soon after, the commercials end and Johnny and Jaehyun begin the introductory dialogue.

“Johnny, have you ever heard of Sunshine?”

“Sunshine? Like light from the sun?”

“No, like the Nation’s Sunshine, Twice’s Lily.”

“But isn’t Lily from America? How did she get the nickname Nation’s Sunshine?”

“Are you curious?” Jaehyun addresses the listeners. “Then find out here!”

“Come meet tonight’s special guest nicknamed the Nation’s Sunshine on NCT Night Night.”

With the show led into, Jaehyun turns his attention to Lily, “Our guest for tonight is a beloved member of a popular girl group who has recently made her debut as a solo artist, lighting up the stage with her bright vocals and refreshing concept during the cold winter months. Lily Lee, hello.”

“Hello!” Lily responds cheerfully.

Johnny chuckles at her peppiness, “Please introduce yourself.”

“Hello!” Lily repeats, “I’m Lily Lee. I’m glad to be a guest on NCT Night Night and am very excited about tonight’s broadcast!”

“Hello and welcome, Lily,” Johnny says.

“Before we begin, would you like explain how we all know each other?” Jaehyun asks.

“Yes. My best friend is one of Johnny and Jaehyun’s members, NCT Dream’s Jisung. I’m good friends with all of NCT, who I met through Jisung.”

“We’re you’re... oppas? Is it alright to say that?” Johnny glances around as thought looking for someone’s nod of approval.

Lily laughs, “Well, you are... six and four years older than me, aren’t you?”

“You were born in 2001?” Jaehyun asks.

“Very late 2001. December twelfth.”

“You’re that young? That means you’re younger than Chenle.”

“Not by much, but I am younger than him, yes.”

“And you’ve just made your solo debut with ‘Roller Coaster,’” Johnny reads from his script. “Your debut single came with two songs, the title track ‘Roller Coaster’ and b-side track ‘Don’t Know What To Do.’ You wrote your b-side, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Lily nods. “I wrote the lyrics and composed most of it. I had help from a friend I trained with who’s debuted now, Stray Kids’ leader Bang Chan. He and I were really the only ones to work on this song and he would push me to figure stuff out on my own. He didn’t hold my hand and tell me what would work.”

“He wanted you to make it your own,” Jaehyun supplies.

“Yes.”

“And you also helped write lyrics for ‘Roller Coaster’?” Johnny asks.

“I did.”

“So, what’s it like being the first of your group to have a solo project while also being the youngest? What were your members’ reactions?” Jaehyun prompts.

“When I was first offered the chance to promote solo, I was really really nervous about their reactions. I care a lot about my members because they really took me in and accepted me when I’d only just move to Korea and I didn’t want them to think that I was privileged or thought I was better than them. Those worries were ultimately stupid because after I talked to one of my friends about it to get his opinion, I told them and they were all super supportive.”

“And how does promoting solo vary from promoting with a group?”

“Well, I feel a lot more pressure to do well. I always feel a lot of pressure to do well because I want to give the best performance possible to Onces, but especially when I’m the only person singing onstage I want to do my absolute best. Of course, everyone makes mistakes and since I’m so clumsy I’m bound to make some as well. But anytime I do make a mistake, I know Onces won’t care too much. And if the rest of my performance was spectacular then it’s alright.”

“It must be a lot of pressure to be the only person onstage people are watching,” Johnny agrees.

“Yeah, it is.”

“We’ll continue our interview with Lily Lee in a few minutes. This is ‘Dancing With A Stranger’ by Sam Smith and Normani.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“The story behind how you got your pet dog Blue is an interesting one, isn’t it?” Jaehyun asks about halfway through the broadcast.

“It is... a little unconventional,” Lily says carefully.

“How did you adopt him?”

“Well, I went out on my own one night to a convenience store and on my way back, I heard whimpering in an alleyway. When I went to see what it was, I found a little puppy in a plastic tub.”

“He was left to starve,” Johnny surmises sadly.

“Yeah,” Lily nods. “So I snuck him into the dorm because I knew my members probably would freak out and make me get rid of him. I went into the dorm, opened my bedroom window, and climbed down the fire escape to where I’d left Blue down below. I brought him up to the dorm, gave him a bath, and it wasn’t until the next day when he’d pooped on the kitchen floor that the girls found out.”

“And you managed to convince them to keep him?” Jaehyun asks.

“With a lot of promises that I would be fully responsible for him- and a little but of guilt tripping-, I did convince them to let him stay.”

“Good thing, too, because he’s adored by your fans,” Johnny says. “On another note, fans have been in a frenzy about something since they found out you’d be coming on the show.”

Lily groans, “I know.”

Johnny laughs, “You know what it is?”

“You two are both so tall,” Lily says, “They want to see me next to you.”

“We’ll take a picture at the end of the broadcast, don’t worry,” Jaehyun tells the listeners.

“How tall are you, Lily?” Johnny asks.

She sighs exaggeratedly loud and long into her mic.

Johnny and Jaehyun laugh heartily.

“I’m like one hundred fifty three centimeters or something,” she says.

“Am I really thirty one centimeters taller than you?” Johnny asks, bewildered.

“I don’t know, you’re the giant,” Lily says. “I look up at everyone regardless. Though I’m probably around one fifty seven right now with the insoles I’m wearing.”

“Imagine wearing insoles,” Jaehyun teases.

“Don’t patronize me,” she says, “I’m your sunbaenim.”

Johnny and Jaehyun falls silent for a few moments.

“You are,” Jaehyun says in disbelief.

“Oh my god,” Johnny mutters.

Lily laughs at the two men who are obviously just now realizing she is at least four years younger than them yet is their senior artist.

“While we think on that for a few minutes, this is ‘Airplane pt.2’ by BTS,” Jaehyun says.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So, how did you get the nickname the Nation’s Sunshine?” Jaehyun asks.

They are rapidly approaching the end of the broadcast after a little under an hour of fun stories and lighthearted teasing.

“I’m a really bright and happy person,” Lily starts, “I’m generally optimistic and I’m kind of the mood maker of Twice. My members started calling me Sunshine as a term of endearment and then just as a nickname. Eventually, it caught on and spread to the fans. I became really, really popular in Korea as I appeared on variety shows and things like that. I feel like I sound like a braggart when I say this, but people started commenting about how anytime I was onscreen- even if they didn’t know me- they’d start smiling, so they started calling me the Nation’s Sunshine.”

“Even though you’re a foreigner?” Jaehyun asks.

“I guess,” Lily shrugs. “I mean, I’m ethnically Korean and after living in Korea for four-ish years, I’m fluent in Korean so except for me name, people don’t always realize I’m from America.”

“America!” Johnny shouts.

“America!” Lily shouts back.

The three of them laugh.

“Well, tonight has been very fun,” Jaehyun says.

“It was fun!” Lily agrees.

“I hope we can have you back sometime,” Jaehyun says.

“I hope so, too,” she nods, “Maybe with my members.”

“Do you have anything else you’d like to say?” Johnny prompts.

“Uh, yes,” Lily says. “Um, Onces! Thank you so much for all your support as I ventured out and promoted solo. I hope I’ve promoted Twice and myself well and you are satisfied with my performances so far. Please always support me. I love you! Thank you! And thank you to Johnny and Jaehyun for having me as a guest! This was a lot of.”

“Okay,” Johnny says. “The final song for tonight is our lovely guest’s recent release. This is ‘Roller Coaster’ by Lily Lee.”

[milkybonya]

hello! smiling anon here :) i had a random idea pop into my head: what about a friends to lovers! chanyeol x reader inspired by his song ssfw? cant wait to see how you’ll do this one :) thank you :)

friends to lovers is a concept that i love :”) i hope you enjoy !

SSFW - Chanyeol

Warnings: some angst/mentions of crying and food

Summary: SSFW by Chanyeol where as the seasons pass, college!Chanyeol realizes he’s falling for his best friend.

Lyrics appear like this throughout the fic

You’re so natural Like the seasons And I’m standing here taking it all in

Like a spring blossom, you’re Deep inside my heart yeah Spreading and taking over babe

You remember the exact moment you met Chanyeol because it was in quite an unconventional way. 

On a spring day, you were passing through the park on your way to your classes. The trees were starting to blossom, their green leaves beginning to take form. The pavement was filled with colourful petals, and as you took a second to admire them, watching them crumple beneath your shoes, something flew by you.

Looking up, you watched as a boy hurried through the park on his skateboard, weaving skillfully in-between the many students who were on their way to class. He wore a baseball cap backwards and his backpack hung on one shoulder.

He looked down to check his phone for a moment and ended up heading straight towards the trash can. You shut your eyes tightly, willing for him to look up before he fell.

A loud crashing sound.

The poor boy was sprawled out on the ground. You were getting closer to him, and noticing that no one had stopped to help him despite everyone staring at him, you walked faster.

Maybe I’ll help him out just this once.

“Are you okay?” you asked him as you stood above him.

He sat up quickly and brushed himself off.

“Of course I’m okay. I was going too fast for my own good,” he chuckled, standing up. He tried to walk, but he was noticeably limping.

“I think you should go to the infirmary,” you told him.

He continued to refuse and resist, but eventually you managed to convince him. The infirmary was far, and the boy who’s name you learned was Chanyeol couldn’t walk at all. So, you had to get him to sit on his skateboard while you pushed it towards campus. It earned the both of you many looks from everyone else, but it turned out to be a funny memory.

Most importantly, that was the day your friendship began.

Well, it was mostly just Chanyeol pestering you at first. 

He’d find you on campus and wouldn’t leave your side until one of you had class.

“My hero!” he yelled from across the hallway. That had become his way of greeting you.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as soon as you turned around.

“Are you going to eat now? Can I join you?” he asked, a smug look on his face.

“You’ll probably still join me even if I say no, but sure,” you said, walking towards the food hall.

When the two of you sat down to eat your food, Chanyeol asked you if you would be free that weekend.

“Yeah, I’m not doing anything. Why?”

“Remember that band you said you liked? They’re having a show nearby this weekend!”

“What? And I didn’t know?” you said, dropping your fork onto your food.

“You’ve been studying so hard, you probably didn’t see their social media posts. We can go together!”

It was at that concert that he felt something for the first time. On the drive to the venue, watching you laugh as you sang along to the stereo, watching the wind hit you through the open window, he felt some sort of... adrenaline? His heart was racing and he felt incredibly happy. 

Even at the venue, he couldn’t focus on the performance properly. His eyes kept coming back to you, and he watched as you danced along to the rhythm of the music.

The two of us are Like spring and summer Blossoming and deepening

Eventually, you and Chanyeol became close. You grew to appreciate his clinginess and his presence. There were many nights where you both pulled all-nighters, stressing over your work. The only comforting thing that you had during those times was each other.

Chanyeol became someone who you would go to if you were feeling sad or happy. You could share anything, and he felt the same with you. 

It didn’t even take that long. All it took was the changing from spring to summer. The weather got warmer, the days longer and the two of you learned to appreciate one another more.

Perhaps the exact moment the two of you felt a shift in your friendship was when you had many personal issues on your plate yet still pulled an all-nighter to study for an exam. You didn’t do well and buckling under the pressure, you broke into tears in the back of the lecture hall.

No one stopped to ask if you were okay. Everyone left and you were still there.

But somehow, Chanyeol found you. He sat beside you and with his warm hands, gently moved your head onto his shoulder. You cried for a whole hour in that position without saying anything. Although Chanyeol’s shirt was stained with your tears, he didn’t say a word.

“Wanna go out for coffee?” he asked, a smile smile on his face.

At that moment, you realized that Chanyeol was truly your friend. Without even having to know why you were crying, he let you cry. You felt incredibly thankful for him.

We don’t change our minds When the leaves fall I want to hold you closer to chase away the cold This season is already half gone Growing closer to you Even through the rain the two of us Kept dry because our love

After spending the summer together working the same summer job, the leaves began to fall from the trees and you found yourself pulling your coat around you more tightly.

Chanyeol’s heart ached.

When he saw you on that first day of classes resuming, running towards him so you could greet him, his heart ached in the best way possible. The world slowed and all he could see was you. His heart was beating quickly and... he really wanted to wrap his arms around you and hold you close.

He shrugged it off, but any time he saw anyone acting a little too friendly or flirty with you, he would feel sad. He would check his phone throughout the day to see if you had messaged him.

Yes, he was in love.

It was a fact that slowly grew on him throughout the colder season.

Somewhere between fall and winter, he confessed to you in the middle of the park where you first met. The snow started to fall and he held your cold hands in his.

Looking right into your eyes, he smiled softly and said, “[y/n], this is kind of random, but I know now that I really like you.”

His heart was pounding and somehow in the cold, he was sweating beneath his three layers. To you though, he looked incredibly confident, and his out of the blue confession made your heart stop.

From that day on, the two of you became one, withstanding the difficulties of university through your love for one another. When the two of you weren’t busy, or even when you were, you would make time to go on little dates. Coffee shops, small restaurants, malls, whatever it was, spending time in each other’s presence was like a healing experience.

On the few nights that you spent together, Chanyeol felt most at peace when he was holding you in his strong arms. Your head pressed right against his chest with the covers wrapped loosely around you both - that was his home. He’d look down so he could press his lips to your forehead, and the kiss would linger for long, but there was no such thing as too long.

When we turn a page on the calendar Our love more and more Flourishes You mean the world to me When all four seasons Pass by one by one Our love continues to grow I’m fallin’ in love with you

Your relationship with Chanyeol was one where you had your freedom and independence, but you were also tightly interlocked with him. The two of you lead career-driven lives but also had one another.

Sometimes, it was hard to not see one another when things got busy, but this only made the two of you love one another even more. Looking forward to seeing each other again after longer periods of not being able to gave you a lot of hope.

You never needed to do anything special when you were together. Just seeing Chanyeol and holding his hand was more than enough. So when he’d kiss you, your heart would burst into a million butterflies because his lips would always meet yours so lovingly.

The seasons passing felt repetitive, but your love was growing exponentially. 

On a spring day, you were passing through the park on your way to campus. You had finished your studies a long time ago, but there were some errands that you had to run there. 

“Meet me at the park by the campus at 1!” you had told Chanyeol on the phone. He had asked you if you were free today, and you had gladly agreed to see him.

When you were walking back, there he was, baseball cap on backwards, sitting on his scratched up skateboard and flashing a wonky smile your way.

“What are you doing, you silly thing,” you said, lightly punching his shoulder.

“Just waiting for you under these pretty trees,” he said, looking up.

“Okay, but why are you wearing those clothes?” you asked him, suppressing your laughter.

“Actually,” he said, pulling something out of the pocket of his zip up sweater. “I’ve got something here.”

A sleek, blue box appeared in his hand. Chanyeol was slightly blushing. You could only guess what was going on.

He opened it, revealing a ring inside.

“Do you want to marry me?” he asked, still sitting on his skateboard.

The sight of him proposing while dressed and sitting like that made you laugh. You ruffled his hair and bent down to kiss his cheek, which made him blush even more.

“I’d gladly do so,” you replied, helping him up. He slipped the ring on your finger and then held your hand.

“So... wanna grab coffee or something?”

[babbushka]

Yay! I’m on time for Sinday! May I request how Biker!Kylo and reader met? They seem to be from completely different walks of life! I searched your blog to see if you had written smth like this before, but you know how “great” the tumblr search function can be. Thank you so much! Hope you and Flip are doing well!

(warnings for threat of violence against reader & mention of blood)

You never expected to be there, when it happened. You’d been on your way home from a long day of running errands, noticed that your tank was running too low for comfort, the little light dinging on. Luckily you knew of a gas station on the corner, if you could just make it a few blocks further, you’d be fine. But you’ve never been to this gas station before, not usually needing gas in this part of town. 

“This part of town.” You huffed out a little laugh to yourself as you pulled into the station. It wasn’t so bad, wasn’t so rough. 

That was, until you noticed all the other pumps were taken by a gang of mean looking men, men who stare and whistle at you as you walk inside the little convenience store to pay. 

“Be careful out there with them,” The man at the register says. He’s a kindly old gentleman, and the warning unsettles you. Something tells you he wouldn’t be coming to your rescue if shit got started. “They’re trouble.” 

“Twenty on three, please.” Is all you say back, sliding the cash over to him and leaving, wanting to be finished as soon as possible. 

But the pump only goes so fast, and you can only take the cat-calling for a little while longer before you whip around and tell them to, “shut the fuck up.”

That was a mistake, you realized it as soon as the words had left your lips. But you were no weak willed person, you were no delicate little flower. No, you stared them down and gave them a hard glare as the gas filled your tank.  It was a dare, and they were foolish enough to challenge you on it. 

“Oh she thinks she’s tough, does she?” They jeer, “C’mere sweetheart show us how tough you are.” 

One of the men pulls out a switchblade, waves it in your direction. You glance at the pump, there’s still five bucks left on it, and you’re not in the habit of wasting gas. You pick up an empty beer bottle and smash it on the side of a cement pole that supports the roof of the gas pumps, not even flinching as you hold it out in front of you. 

Just then, before any sort of fight can happen, the engine of more bikes roar into earshot, heading straight towards you. Your pulse rabbits in your throat because you’re not stupid, you know you can’t fight off an entire gang -- when you notice these bikers aren’t dressed the same. One of them nearly throws down his bike when he approaches you, tucks you behind his broad back. 

His jacket has silver embroidered letters into the leather, R - E - N.

“You picked the wrong fucking day to cause trouble,” The man threatens through his helmet, some sort of modulator distorting his voice. He stands between you and the other gang, who begin to curse and start their engines. “Yeah get the fuck out of here, now. And don’t come back or else I’ll slit your throats.” 

The threat should scare you, but it doesn’t. You’re grateful for it, for him, even if you knew you could handle it yourself. Ren turns around then, takes his helmet off. He’s handsome, you think, brown eyes and proud nose, soft lips. Lips he chews as he tries to think of something to say. 

The gas pump clicks then, your twenty bucks spent. 

“Thank you,” You say sincerely, before wincing, realizing that the broken glass from the bottle cut your palm, made blood ooze out ever so slightly, made it smear onto his leather jacket from where you’d braced yourself against his back. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Ren shakes his head, pulls out a bandanna from his pocket and gently wraps it around your palm, taking the bottle and chucking it with expert aim into the garbage can a little ways away. He’s gentle when he puts his hand on yours, looks at you and sighs, “Don’t be sorry, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“How can I repay you for stepping in?” You ask, sparing a glance to the group of bikers which wait across the parking lot. 

You wave to them, and they wave back. Ren smiles, it looks like a painful expression, one he isn’t used to. You think it makes him look even more handsome, that mild embarrassment of the rest of his gang happily waving at you like you’re all long lost friends and not complete and total strangers, tinting his cheeks.

“Don’t, there’s no need, really. Do you want an escort home?” He asks, gesturing to your car. You’d almost forgotten why you were here, and though this is a kind offer, you weren’t so sure you wanted a gang to know where you lived -- even if they were a nice gang. 

“No, that’s alright.” You say, and he gets the hint, gives you one last look before putting on his helmet. He nods and moves to walk away, but you boldly reach out and grab for his hand with a, “Wait! Your bandanna.”

You’re about to take it off when he shakes his head, stops you. 

“Keep it until your hand heals up.” He replies, and something about the way his voice sounds through the helmet makes your throat run dry with want, with a desire you hadn’t felt in a long time. “When you don’t need it anymore, swing by Solo Auto Parts. You can give it to me then.” 

“See you soon, Ren.” You smile at him as you make your way to the driver side of your car. He opens the door for you, blocks you for a moment and stares at you through the visor of his helmet. 

“Call me Kylo.” He says, before leaving you there and joining his gang, their engines roaring back to life as they ride out into the sunset, like something out of a movie. 

Solo Auto Parts, you commit the name of the shop to memory, commit his face now hidden to memory too. You’d be visiting before your hand healed up, would find some excuse, you knew you would.

Little did you know it’d be the start of a beautiful, if unconventional, relationship. 

[prayerith]

it’s beginning to look a lot like checkout

summary: Joey is trying to survive working as a cashier during the holiday season. When a cute customer manages to turn around his entire day, he doesn't think he'll ever see the guy again. But when he keeps turning up, will Joey manage to form a relationship with him?

howdy! yes, i’m posting a multi-chapter fic for once. you can also read it on ao3 here <3 hope y’all enjoy!

Not for the first time today, Joey eyed the speaker embedded in the ceiling above his cash register and wondered how difficult it would be to smash it from the ground. Sure, it was a few feet up, but if he threw something hard enough at it, he could probably damage it, right? The stapler at his register wasn’t too heavy, but it was solid enough that it might fritz it out. Then again, he would almost certainly be fired, but he would take that if it meant that the speaker was at least non-functional. Anything to stop being forced to listen to that damn Christmas music.

Normally, he couldn’t really hear the music pumped through the hardware store at which he was (regrettably) employed, being too quiet to hear over the general din of a retail environment. The only exceptions were with songs he knew, which he was able to pick out easier, or when there was hardly anyone in the store making noise to drown out the speakers overhead. However, that all changed when Thanksgiving ended. Once that happened, corporate switched their generally palatable 70’s playlist to Christmas music, and Joey’s annual nightmare began.

That’s not to say he didn’t like Christmas; he wasn’t religious, so he didn’t really celebrate it except in the most bare-bones sense of getting his dad and sister a present on the day, but he thought the holiday season in general was fine. It was listening to the same damn songs for hours on end that was driving him up the wall. While he might hear a repeat or two on the standard playlist if he had a long shift, when Christmas rolled around, it was very possible to hear the same song three different times in only a few hours. If Joey ever met the person that designed this playlist and told their store to play it, he would give them a piece of his mind—and a piece of his fist besides.

Damn brain, he thought, resting his chin on his elbows, which were crossed on the counter. Can’t pay attention to somebody when they’re talking to me, but I can’t stop paying attention to Christmas music. Figures.

Furtively, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time: 3:15 pm. Only forty-five minutes until he got to clock out, but he knew this would be the longest part of his shift. It was after lunch but before most people got off work, meaning that business had slowed to a crawl. Normally, he was grateful for any downtime at work, especially later in his shift, but as “Silver Bells” started up for the fourth time that day, Joey was actively wishing someone would come to his register, just so he would be able to tune out the music.

The irritation from the music just added to everything else miserable about working in retail; Joey’s knees were killing him from having to stand all day on a concrete floor, and he was in that half-bored, half-stressed state that came with a slow moment at the register. He wanted to zone out, think about what he would make for dinner or come up with something fun to do with Serenity over her school break, but he couldn’t risk getting interrupted by a customer. So, he was stuck, unable to sit and rest his knees and forced to pay attention to his surroundings. Which, unfortunately, included the music.

The tell-tale beeping of a register being activated was a welcome distraction, and he picked his chin off his elbows to look in the direction of the noise. It wasn’t especially eventful; just his coworker, Ryou, being forced into scanning some lady’s entire basket, despite the fact that she was at a clearly labeled self-checkout register. Joey felt bad for him; Ryou was a sweet guy, which meant that he often got roped into doing way more than he should. He did, however, have more than a passing interest in the occult, which he weaponized against customers that pissed him off, so he was helpful to have around when dealing with someone annoying. He was a real wild card; Joey appreciated that about him.

“Hello? Can I check out here?”

God damn it.

“Yeah, sure thing!” Joey said, putting on his best Customer Service Voice. He whipped his head back around, coming face-to-face with the customer who had managed to sneak up on him, despite his earlier promises to not zone out. Immediately, however, Joey forgot everything about work, his mind going blank except for one thought: this guy was cute.

At first, Joey had made eye contact with his hair, rather than his face, given that the customer was pretty short and his hair was pretty tall. After a stray thought as to how much gel someone had to use to get it to stay that way, his eyes dropped to his actual face; that was when his brain had really started to short-circuit. How was he supposed to focus on making this guy pay for his stuff when he had such clear, violet eyes, such a friendly smile? Joey was only human, after all. The glimpse of a leather choker underneath the scarf the customer wore only made things worse.

“Is everything alright?” Fuck, the customer must have asked him a question. Not only that, but all his stuff was on the counter, and he was looking at Joey with an expectant, if confused, expression.

“Uh, yeah, just zoned out for a second.” It wasn’t a lie; he had zoned out, but he wasn’t going to tell the customer why. He grabbed the customer’s first item—a string of white Christmas lights—and scanned it as quick as he could, hoping to make up for lost time. “Did you, uh, find everything okay?”

“Yes, I did, thanks,” the customer responded, sounding just as friendly as he did when he first asked to check out. “I’m glad you still had some white lights! I really needed them, and they were sold out at the first two stores I checked.”

“Oh yeah? I’m glad we could provide, then.” Joey continued scanning his items, noting that they were all Christmas decorations. He found it odd that the only lights the customer wanted to buy were white and blue, but maybe he was going for an unconventional Christmas tree design. Joey wasn’t here to judge people’s purchases, only make sure they happen. “Alright, your total is $32.64, cash or card?”

The customer held up a debit card in response, and Joey indicated the card reader in front of him. He finished paying in relative silence, leaving Joey to almost-zone-out at least a dozen more times, getting stuck on different aspects of the customer’s appearance. How much work is it for him to dye his hair three different colors? His nose scrunches up when he concentrates, that’s cute. Would it be too weird to ask for his number?

Too quickly, however, the card reader beeped, prompting the customer to remove his card. “Thanks so much!” he said, with a smile that was too charming for Joey’s poor, flustered heart to take.

“No problem,” he managed to say, despite being sure that he was going to ascend out of his body at any moment. He grabbed the customer’s receipt from the printer and handed to its owner; if he held it in a way to where he ensured that their fingers didn’t brush, well, that was self-preservation. “Thanks, and have a nice day.”

“Thanks, uh, Joey,” the customer said, peering at his name tag, “and happy holidays!” He waved goodbye with the hand not holding his bags, still with that blinding smile on his face, and turned to leave. Joey propped his chin back on his hand and watched him walk to the exit door, smiling at the way he pulled his scarf up over his nose before facing the cold.

“Fall in love with a customer, Joey?”

Joey yelled, losing his balance and nearly smashing his chin onto the counter, before he caught himself and spun around to face the person who had just spoken. “Ryou, what the fuck? You can’t just sneak up on me like that, you’re gonna get me killed.”

Ryou giggled, his elbows on the low wall that separated self-checkout from Joey’s register. There wasn’t a customer in sight—which meant that Joey was now fair game for ridicule. “Not my fault you were distracted. He’s cute though, did you get his number?”

“No, I don’t even know his name,” Joey grumbled. That made him remember that the customer had said his name, though, which made his face heat up. Didn’t think my name could sound that nice. He peeled open a new plastic bag, just for the sake of having something to do that meant he didn’t have to look Ryou in the eyes. “Besides, I can’t just ask a customer for his number! What if he thinks I’m weird, and writes me up, and gets me fired?”

“You have a point.” Ryou hummed, tapping his finger on his chin. “But what if he thought you were also cute?”

“It’s not like I’ll ever find out.” Joey sighed, putting his head in his hands. “He said he went to other stores for white lights before he found them here, which means he probably doesn’t live around here, which means I’ll probably never see him again. Better to just forget about it.”

Ryou made a sympathetic sound, and Joey didn’t have to see his face to know he was looking at him with pity. “I suppose,” he said slowly. “Still, you seemed happy when you were talking to him. You never smile like that when you’re working, it was a nice change.”

Joey just sighed again, before the clearing of a stranger’s throat made him look up to realize that someone was ready to check out—right as the strains of “Blue Christmas” reached his ears from the damned speaker above him. Right, he had work to do, and on-the-nose Christmas music to endure. He plastered on his Work Smile, ready to greet his customer with all the fake friendliness a retail employee could muster.

Ryou was right; while talking to that cute customer, he had been genuinely happy. Unfortunately, it made his return to dismal reality all the sadder.

[pagingevilspawn]

Patiently waiting for the next lyialg update ! I’m obsessed so yeah thank u for that !!

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter six

i really need to get back to writing this fic, but my inspiration  atm at zero. (i blame proofs, they’ve corrupted all my brain cells)

are we surprised, another filler! what? but, did i write... conversation? wowzies. its just a day full of surprises ain’t it? okay, hope you guys like it! read on ao3 here!

~*~

"i've spent all of the love i've saved. we were always a losing game."

~*~

she probably should've left after their rendezvous in the comforters, but she didn't. instead, she lay on the wide open bed sprawled out over the covers, dressed and ready for the day as she asks him random questions just to annoy him, which she knows he secretly enjoys. (the tiny smiles he would let sneak past his lips didn't go unnoticed by her. he was quite horrible at trying to convince her that he didn't enjoy it.)

"why can't chickens fly?" she asks thoughtfully, pursing her lips, making him stop in his tracks as he puts his toiletries in his suitcase. that was definitely the weirdest question she had asked yet. and trust him, she'd asked a lot of them.

"umm, because they're too fat? i don't know." he answers with a shrug of his shoulders. he didn't know why the hell chickens didn't fly. all he knew was that their wings were useless.

jo looks unamused with his answer as a frown begins to form in her face. "but why? the universe gave them wings, so why not the opportunity to actually use them?"

alex thinks over the answer for a second, shrugging his shoulder as he puts more things in his bag. "dude, i don't know. you're the one in med school. go ask a teacher. or google. google has the answer to everything."

she furrows her eyebrows, reaching behind her to grab a pillow, which she successfully tosses and it hits his face. she lets out a loud laugh as the pillow makes a thump! sound as it hits the floor, alex sending her a glare she had gotten to know all too well these past few days. "you act like i'm in high school." she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning as she narrows her eyes at him.

"i would hope you're not. otherwise i'd get arrested." he says gruffly, finding a loner sock in the bathroom and tossing it into his suitcase aimlessly, nearly missing the destination point as it hangs over the side of it loosely.

"asshole. i'm twenty-three." she bites back.  

"exactly." he says. "you're a fetus. you're a young, tiny, innocent fetus." he pauses for a second, "well, maybe not exactly the innocent part." he grins coyly, earning another pillow to the face.

she scowls at him playfully, a small smile gracing her lips. "shut up. and you do realize you're not much older than me right?" she flops back against the pillows, liking the poof! sound it made whenever she hit the confronter beneath her. it was settling, so much so that she did it again and again. sitting up and them flopping down. sit up, flop down. sit up, flop down. to say it annoyed him would be an understatement.

for someone who wasn't a high school student she sure as hell acted like one sometimes. 

most of the time.

all the damn time.

"still. you are in school. ask a teacher, they probably know. or ask google, like i said. they seem to have the answer to everything."

jo blatantly ignores his answer, lost in her own world as she begins to ramble on, a trait he found out she did often. on most people he would find it annoying, but for some reason it suited her. "but it's so cruel." she pouts, narrowing her eyes and glaring at the blank TV screen. "i mean, they have all these bird friends and they see them fly in the sky, and all they wanna do is fly too but they can't because the universe gave them crappy wings that can't hold them up. it's crappy. the situation's crappy. chicken's deserve better." she says in one breath, sinking into the pillows behind her once she was done.

he looks at her for second before bursting into loud laughter. she seemed to have that effect on him, making him laugh at the most unconventional of times. "you think chickens deserve better?" he asks incredulously after he calms down from his laughing fit, a wide grin on his face as he looks at her.

jo blushes and looks away, feeling the heat rise from her cleavage to her face. she truly didn't know where the hell that rant came. she purses her lips and crosses her arms over her chest. "y-yes." she stutters out, trying not to launch into another long monologue. she could go on for days about how the poor, innocent, annoying cluckers got delt crappy cards.  

"oh, i get it." he says, suddenly laying down on the empty spot next to her. "the chicken is you, and the wings are mothers. you're wondering why all the other people -birds- have wings -mothers- but you don't."

she stares at him, mouth agape. was that what she was thinking? she'd never put that together before. was she doing it without even realizing it? "n-no." she stutters out lamely. that would be crazy right? comparing a bird and wings to herself. that's just.. sad. not to mention pathetic. who the hell compares themselves to flightless birds? pathetic people, that's who. she wasn't a chicken, she was a... a fucking unicorn!

"please. i'm the king of euphemisms." he smirks, tossing a shirt into his suitcase as he stands form his position. he looks up to meet her eyes, which were wide. "you didn't know." he states, jo nodding in response.

he shrugs nonchalantly, "well, congrats on knowing it earlier than me. i didn't figure out the weird shit i said was just me reflecting on myself until last year." he gives a half hearted attempt at a grin. it was true. it wasn't until a patient pointing it out actually (who he thought was kind of crazy), so he supposed he couldn't give himself much credit.  

jo pinches her eyebrows together, biting her bottom lip in concentration. "i just compared myself to a chicken." she says abruptly, making him let out a snort.

"that you did."

she suddenly stands up from her spot on the bed, hands flying around like a mad woman. "who the fuck compares themselves to a chicken!" she shrieks, sounding so serious alex was trying not to burst into a laugh right then and there.

"you." he deadpans, unable to stop the wide smirk that spread across his sharp features. she was too easy to mess with sometimes.  

she throws him a sharp glare, taking off her flat from her foot and hitting him right in the chest, picking it up and slipping it back on after. he winces as he rubs the spot, making sure no shoe prints got marked on him. he wouldn't know how the hell he would explain that to robbins. i mean, 'oh no, i'm fine, just got trampled by a single shoe' was a bit of a hard thing to believe.

"no, but... that's just weird." she says, crossing her arms over her chest once more as she looks out the window, taking notice of the light bits of snow falling from the sky. she didn't know why she expected otherwise. it was november after all. she'd practically grown up in boston, she knew the reasons like the back of her hand.

he nods. "it is."

jo watches as the snow falls. it was so pure. she used to consider herself pure. well, not really. she lived in her car and had gotten kicked out of so many foster homes she lost count. but she did always think she still had that shred of innocence left in her, the girl who looked for the good in everything, despite her normally pessimistic thoughts. now, now that little bit of purity was shattered.

she cheated on her husband.

and the worst part? she enjoyed it. not the fact that she was cheating, god no. the guilt was all consuming, a torturous monster that she truly just wanted to stab to death with a sword as she watched it bleed out. no, she felt guilty at the fact that she couldn't get enough of the sex.

no man had ever made her feel the way alex karev had in the past three days. never in her life. she'd had random hookups that she met at bars who were quite good, and not to mention her husband, who she would used to compare to god in bed. but now... now she wasn't so sure.

it was like he knew her. it was like... he knew exactly what to do to push her over the edge, something she had never experienced before. god, she felt so dirty. she wanted to just hop in the shower and scrub every reminder of alex off her, but at the same time she just wanted to do him in the shower.

shaking away her thoughts, she looks back at him, noting how he also seemed to be lost in his mind as well, staring at the snow.

he notices her eyes on him, so he just lets his mouth tumble out the words flying through his brain. he didn't feel the need to hold back around jo, something he didn't know he was missing until she came into the picture.

"it doesn't snow very often in seattle." he says, watching as the white flakes trickle down to the sidewalk, some sticking to the window as they let the wind move them in whatever direction it pleases.

"we get a lot of rain, but not a lot of snow. to be honest, it snowed more in iowa." she nods at his words. she'd known snow all her life. she grew up on the east coast and never left. she liked the white fluffiness that would make tiny piles outside her bay window in the study, something she had since she moved in with paul.

she grimaces slightly, "do you ever get annoyed with the rain?" she asks softly.

alex nods furiously, a silent chuckle escaping his lips. "all the damn time." he whispers, taking a seat on one of the chairs the room housed.

"then why'd you move there?" she asks curiously. surely he knew how much it rained in seattle. practically babies did.  

"i got accepted to seattle grace. no way in hell would i give up a chance to train at one of the best hospital's in the world because of the weather."

she nods, settling into a comfortable silence with him as they focus on the snow. that was something they both enjoyed about each other. there was no pressure to fill the noise. they could sit in silence and be okay with it.

the snow falling was like them, having to leave this hotel room. here, they were able to attack each other's lips with all they had in them, no matter how wrong it was. the snow hitting the ground was like them needing to leave the four walls. it was them having to face and come to terms with their actions.

so for the moment they sat silently, just trying to savor the last few moments before their life would probably turn to shit.

they weren't telling anybody, god no. but the overhanging cloud of guilt and shame above their head's already made it a little bit harder to carry on.

some say the guilt is the ultimate punishment, worse than death or anything else.

and at that moment they couldn't agree more.

____

they sit for a while longer, just watching the city of boston get covered in white. it was settling, calming in a way they didn't know they needed.

he would miss talking to her. which was a stupid thing to say. a really stupid thing to say actually. but it was the truth. he had never found himself opening up to someone so easily. for once in his life he wasn't given eyes of pity when someone hears his sob story he called his childhood, instead she just understood. she knew what it was like to grow up with basically nothing and make themselves into something, trying to be better than their parents, even though she never knew her's.

it was refreshing, talking to someone without having to worry abut being judged or labeled as something he used to be. he wasn't a foster kid anymore, nor a little boy who had to take care of his younger siblings from such a young age. he wasn't the twelve year old boy who had to practically raise his little sister. to her, he was just alex. the guy who she cheated on her husband with (he wasn't proud of that part), the guy she talked until three in the morning with. the guy she ate a shit loud of pizza with. he was just a normal guy with a crappy past.

she would miss talking to him too. with alex, talking was so natural. she didn't need to think, she didn't feel the pressure to say the right thing in hopes that she would be seen as more than what she had been told she was all her life.

but she would miss him holding her.

a lot.

when they laid in bed, he would wrap his arms around her and pull her in close. she swore, she had never felt more safe than she did while nestled in his chest as his fingers wove through her hair. it was such an intimate embrace, and they knew they shouldn't be doing it, but hell, they'd crossed the line that first night. why not be a bit more reckless? the only people feeling the pain would be them.  and if a few hours of them taking away each other's pain would mean that there was more added on later, then why the hell not?  

they didn't want to say goodbye. not just because they were screwing each other, but because they had made a friend in one another.

so with that thought, without looking away from the window alex sticks out his palm to the side, not far away from jo, "hand me your phone."

she quirks a quizzical brow at him, "what?" she asks, turning to face towards him from where she was sitting on the miniature table. it was a small little thing, but she petite herself, so the table acted like a stool.  

he simply only raises his eyebrows and she gets what he means. she cracks a small smile, happy that he didn't want their newfound friendship to come to an end either. she learned over the years that losing a relationship was okay, it would take time to heal, but you got over it. a friendship was something you never ultimately forgot about. he and alex weren't by any means in a relationship, but it was safe to say they had become really good friends.  

she walks over to the bedside table, grabbing her phone and unlocking it, a new pang of guilt shooting through her at the sight of her lock screen. it was of her and paul a few months ago, a couple weeks before he proposed. they looked really happy. she was smiling wide and he was pressing a kiss to the side of her cheek. she shakes off the feelings, opening the contact app for him to fill out with his information.

"put your name down as alexandra." she says adamantly, alex glancing up with a look of displeasure.

"what?" last time he checked his full name was alexander, not a chick's name.

"he might get suspicious." she shrugs her shoulders, taking his phone from his hand and filling out the little lines of information.

he rolls his eyes, he thought it was a bit excessive, but he did kinda of get where she was coming from. just alex could be a boy or a girl. "fine, then you have to be joseph." he answers, smirking triumphantly.

she scowls, begrudgingly typing out joseph onto the screen. "you better not fucking call me that asshole." she mutters, earning a light laugh. nobody ever really called him stuff like 'asshole' or 'dickhead' without using it as an insult. it was actually pretty funny when it wasn't being used condescendingly, he learned.  

"as long as you don't call me alexandra we have a deal." he shakes his head. "i already know an alexandra. dated one, but we call her lexie." he mumbles, more to himself than to jo. a small laugh is heard in the room after his words, alex cracking a small, barely there smile. they eventually stand up, knowing that now was the time. if they delayed it any longer than he would miss his flight, and that was one thing he couldn't do, because that would mead to questions from robbins, which would lead to questions from izzie, which would lead to the truth coming out. long story short, he couldn't miss his flight.  

alex and jo stand in front of each other, staring into each other's eyes.

should she kiss him? as a goodbye?

as if he hears her thoughts he's stepping closer to her, raising one hand to her cheek, his eyes looking a bit conflicted as he stares at her. he takes it as a sign that she doesn't pull away and begins to lean in, making her shiver all over as she feels his breath fan her face. their heart rates pick up simultaneously in their chests, a feeling that hadn't faded over the past three days.

after what seems like hours their lips finally connect, taking in their taste for the last time. the fire burns in their stomach's, but this time they put it aside. if they took it any further, they knew that they would end up in the throes of passion once again.

they pull away at the same time, him reaching down to grab the handle of his suitcase as he walks out of the door with her, who only has her small clutch in her hand. he shuts the door behind them, staring at her once more.

"goodbye jo." he says, beginning to turn away.

"goodbye alex."

[springtimebat]

The Autumn Meeting (Part 2/4)

“It’s your turn Gus.”

Gus’ left ankle squeaks and kicks at a nearby stone. His head spins, his neck tensing. Emil, who is growing quite tired of his schedule being altered, scowls.

“If I may make a request for this year’s heroic tale, Gus, let's have no stories about young maidens needing to be saved. Considering the...sensitive circumstances we have been thrust into-” He shrugs a shoulder at the Queen, who gives him a wink from her throne, “I’d say that premise has grown quite thin tonight.”

“Do the one with the tree Gussie.” Abram requests, picking at the innards of yet another marshmallow.

“The one with the tree?” 

“Yeah see, Gus wrote to me about oh...probably seven months ago, with this poem he’d thought up while he was hiding near the mountains.”

“Why were you hiding near the mountains Gus?”

Gus’ left arm crawls over to his head piece and makes a quick chopping motion, slicing his neck. Emil takes a step back and Abram gives a gasp. The Queen yawns. 

“You scoundrel! What were you doing all the way out there? And with him? Of all the kings in the world!”

Gus clicks his teeth.

“Wait,” Abram whispers as if he was afraid the group were being watched, “So that story...the one about the tree… it really happened?"

Gus nods.

“And it was about you?”

Gus nods again, confused.

“You fell in love with a tree?”

At this, Gus tilts his head to the side, as if to say this tree was special, just like all the other women he saved regularly.

Emil gives a cackle, “Oh I can’t wait to hear this!”

“It sounds interesting,” The Queen notes, tilting her own head. 

“It sounds ridiculous.”

“It is ridiculous. That is why I trust it.”

“Start it for us Gus,” Abram mutters, his eyes shimmering. 

“Yes let’s get this over with,” Emil sighs. 

“I’d love to hear it,” The Queen nods. 

And with that, the knight begins whistling a quiet, sombre tone into the forest air and into the shadows. It was called:

{The tree that grew sideways}:

I was working for a king

Far, far away

And he was cruel as cruel could be 

One day he sent me out to kill a tree 

“A tree?” I said, “What would you want with a tree?”

But the king never answered questions

Ever

So I was sent out to kill the tree

The tree was all iron and smoke

Man-made 

A shadow of an oak

Some gnome had erected it in the square 

Out of everlasting pieces of timber

Which suffocated the king’s evil spirit

It sat there

The ghost of a spruce

It sat there and it waited

It waited for me to kill them

I took my stance 

I readied my lance 

And the trees branches shivered in the afternoon breeze

I took a step forward 

Then I took a step back

For as I had approached, I had touched the iron skin of the man-made tree

Its eyes floated into view 

As if they had always been there 

Their eyes captured me 

Entranced me 

And I fell in love with the man-made tree

I pleaded our case to the king 

But my attempts were all for nought

He cursed my tree 

Then struck it 

Struck it again and again 

Until its life faded away 

Then they took me apart and sent me far, far away

And with that, the story abruptly ends, like a candle flickering out too soon. Abram shakes his head, Emil simply stands there and the Queen gives a short, polite clap. Gus raises his head to the treetops, seemingly proud of himself. After a short, stunned silence Emil finally speaks.

“What on earth was that?” 

Gus refuses to respond.

“What was the point in that?” 

“There was no point,” Abram replies, “That in itself is the point.”

“I wouldn’t say there is no point,” The Queen argues, her evil little eyes whirring with life, “The knight lost the love of his life and his unconventional desire for the tree led to him being punished by the king and by extension the people of the land, as at the end he was banished even further into exile. His love and acceptance of the handmade tree, an outsider, causes Gus to become an outcast himself, leading him to deal with his loss and grief alone.”

The three men frown at her. 

“Forgive me for this your majesty,” Abram replies, “But, as I’ve known Gus for around two hundred years-”

Gus gives a whistle.

“-Yeah two hundred and forty four years, I feel confident in saying that he just fell in love with a tree and wanted to write about it”

“Oh,” The Queen remarks, “That’s okay. It works either way I suppose.”

“Don’t lie,” Emil sighs, “It doesn’t work in any way, in any form. Falling in love with a tree? Who on earth can relate to that? And besides, the relationship had absolutely no build-up! You touched a tree and thought it was cute. Okay. Did the tree even feel the same way? What are the tree's thoughts, motivations; its dreams?”

Gus keeps his eyes to the ground, embarrassed.

“You never think of these things my boy. Your stories always need development. You should be thinking of dee-veel-op-meent.” Emil rolls his head back, as if preparing to give a giant speech, “Instead, all your characters, all your puzzle pieces, stay the same. Instead of improving them you...preserve them! You need a relatable hero Gus and, unfortunately, you are not one in the slightest. In fact, you seem to get worse over time. Falling for a tree! Can you imagine?”

“It’s a tragedy then,” The Queen suggests. Emil turns to her, his eyes two deep, black holes.

“You,” He scowls, “Are the only tragedy in this room.”

Abram gives a small shudder, “Be nice Emillian.”

The skeleton cackles and ignores his best friend, “I’ve heard the fairy folk that dare to cross this way. I’ve heard what they say about you-”

“I know. We all know,” The Queen grins, “I eat babies.”

“Rumours like that need a lot of hatred to take flight and find these old ears,” Emil taps the top of his skull with a thin finger, “No one seems to like you. Any idea as to why that is?”

“I’m ordinary. I suppose that frustrates them.”

“How so?” 

“They want to figure me out. Find what makes me tick. People you understand are easier to conquer than an anomaly you’ve only just met.” 

“And you believe they want to conquer you?”

“They want to conquer everything. Especially the king.”

“So that’s what puts you at odds with all of them then?”

“Yes.”

“Simple as that?”

“Simple as that. They can’t figure me out so they deem me unworthy.”

Emil groans and turns to Abram, “It’s your turn Abe.”

“Oh!” Abram gasps, shooting up like spring grass, “Oh I’ve got a good one this time! An amazing one! You’ll love it!”

“It better be lighthearted. I don’t think I can take much more philosophical nonsense from our guest.”

Just outside of the never ending forest, the city of tomorrow sags and wrinkles in the strange afternoon sun. Something is wrong. The city’s corridors are hungry and dazed. It’s searching, combing its basements, its attics. At last, it lets out a heartbroken whimper. Its Queen has disappeared. The cracked glass in the windows turn bloody red.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #455

“but you didn’t have to cut me off  /  make it like it never happened and that we were nothing”

Are you and the last person you kissed in a relationship or just friends? We're besties! :') Has anyone ever pointed out that your laugh was unusual? No. Would you get a lip piercing? I already have a vertical labret. I've considered getting spiked snakebites (they might be called devil bites?) too, though. With a vertical labret, it looks sick as FUCK. It might be a bit much too close together for me, though, idk. Nose piercing? I want my right nostril re-pierced. What are you currently waiting for? Girt to message me back. I've decided what I want out of our relationship and just want to see him. Do you have feelings for anyone? Hit me pretty hard through a lot of examination of my feelings that yeah, I do. Have you ever run over an animal? Oh my god no, I would be DESTROYED. Have you chewed gum after someone else already has? bro what the fuck When people sneeze do you say ‘bless you’? I do only out of expectation. I don't want someone to think I'm an ass or something for not saying it. When was the last time you were on a bouncy castle? A few years ago for my niece's birthday. She was scared of how loud it was and was very reluctant to get near it, so my fat ass got in there with everyone else to show her it was fine lol. I can't remember if she eventually got in. She loves them now, though. :') Have you ever went on a bouncy castle whilst drunk? No, but thanks for the idea, ha ha. Have you ever entered an art competition? Yes. What is one thing you will never do? Try hardcore drugs. What is one food that you detest? Asparagus. Did you have a rebellious phase growing up? Not really. What religion were you brought up with? Roman Catholic. Are you still that religion? GOD NO. Do you often find yourself questioning your future? That's my full-time job. How many friends do you have on Facebook? 124. What sort of music did you listen to when you were in high school? The same I listen to now. What pet names do you use with your significant other? I'm single rn, but usually, I go for "sweetie/sweetheart," "hunny," "love," "dear," stuff like that. What’s the name of the store you usually get your groceries? Wal-Mart. Have you ever seen a theatre show? Yes. What’s your favourite vegetable? Broccoli. Have you ever missed a flight? Yes. I was SO fuckin upset because it was on Sara's birthday and planned in secret, and I was supposed to wake her up. It still wound up being a big surprise to her when she walked into her room and I was chillin' at her desk, ha ha, but I still wish it coulda gone as originally planned. Do your neighbours have any pets? Have you ever met them? Yes; they have a yappy-ass dog that doesn't shut up. I haven't met them. What color is your bedroom door? White. If you were ever to become famous, would you grow annoyed at fans? This may sound very ungrateful, but I have heard A LOT of celebrities say it: it would get old, being stopped constantly in public for signatures, pictures, etc. Like yes, I still WOULD be grateful, but I'd miss just being off the radar and able to go outside carrying out chores and stuff like a normal person. Have you ever met your favourite band/singer? No. :( Are you embarrassed by any of the songs/singers/bands you like? Nah, not nowadays. Have you ever written a story? Yes, a kinda short one when I was little. Think of the last poem you wrote: What inspired you to write it? The breakup with Jason and the fact we're just strangers again. It was really short, but I like it a lot, honestly. Do you have a chance with the person you like right now? I think so. What’s the weirdest thing you were scared of as a child? A skeleton in my closet, lol. Literally. Are there any embarrassing stories your family tells about you? alkdsjflakjwle yes In your opinion, what is the funniest TV show? That '70s Show. 3rd Rock From the Sun is high up there, too. What is the maximum number of children you’d ever have? HYPOTHETICALLY, two, but I'm pretty damn serious about having none. I just always feel kinda bad for children without a sibling, but three would make me pull my hair out. Have you ever been concerned you had a serious illness? Yes. I overreact to even minor symptoms to ANYTHING. Are you comfortable with who you are? No. Pretty much everything about myself embarrasses me, even if it shouldn't. Would you date someone even if you knew you’d get made fun of for it? Yes? Others' opinions don't affect how I feel about someone. Does popularity matter to you at all? No, outside of trying to be a successful photographer. Would you ever consider homeschooling your children? If they really wanted that and it would benefit them, yes. Who told you about the band/singer you are currently listening to? I discovered them myself. Do you ever read fanfiction? Nah. Would you rather die in a plane crash, ship wreck or fire? Jesus. A plane crash, I guess, because in a lot of cases, it would be an immediate death. What are your top five favourite TV shows? Meerkat Manor, Fullmetal Alchemist (and Brotherhood; shut up, they go together), That '70s Show, Ginga Densetsu Weed, and Deadman Wonderland. What is your favorite superhero movie? Logan. If you died next week, what would be the cause of death? Uhhhh idk... I guess maybe a heart attack? Judging by doctor appointments, my heart is just fine, but the fact still remains that I'm technically obese, so that's always a risk. Have you ever taken a break from Facebook or other social media? Why? Facebook, yes. It was just depressing me. I was playing the comparison game REAL hard. Who is the most talented person you know? I dunno. I know many people talented in a lot of areas. Are you currently platonic friends with anyone you’ve had sex with? No. Where did you and your current interest go on your first date? Bowling. Have you ever experienced two people fighting over you (physically or mentally)? What happened? Jason and Juan pursued me at the same time. They'd known each other in the past, and Juan hated him for "winning" his ex-girlfriend. Then when Jason and I got together, Juan wasn't the happiest for sure. Have your parents ever thought you were gay? What happened? Before I actually came out as bisexual, I don't think so? Are your parents more liberal or conservative? Conservative. Mom is more open, but still conservative. I think. What year are you going into at the beginning of the next academic year? I'm not in school. How far away does your closest family member live? I live with Mom. If you’ve seen both, did you prefer the Disney version or the Tim Burton version of Alice in Wonderland? I actually strongly prefer Tim Burton's. Would you have sex before marriage? Why or why not? Yeah. I just want to be in a long-term, serious, healthy relationship to reach that point and be as safe as possible about it. Are you more liberal or conservative? Liberal, but I do have some conservative beliefs, too. Who is your favorite Harry Potter character? I don't have one, given I never got into that franchise. What’s the worst that could come out of letting gays marry? Not a goddamn thing. What’s the most sexual thing you’ve done? Done "the thing." Name something that you are against. I'll go with an unconventional one that's a problem as of the late: making owning reptiles illegal. Why are you against it? Because reptiles are perfectly capable of being brilliant pets and, most importantly, can tame people's fears of them. I think that it's very important to see the worth and beauty in all animals, and reptiles are one of the most unappreciated families out there. :/ Have you ever played the Tomb Raider games? I played some of either the first or second one. I could never beat it. Old games are hard, man. Do you like it or hate it when your partner is clingy? I absolutely believe that it can get to an extreme that I don't like, but for the most part, I don't mind a clingy partner because hey, I am too. Beatles or Rolling Stones? Stonessss. When was the last time you changed your opinion on somebody? It'd been on my mind for a while, but I *officially* realized that I really do like-like Girt a couple days ago. And since then it's gotten a bit hardcore and all I wanna do is talk to him bc fuck me and how attached to people I get. What was the last thing that made you feel proud and why? Every single time I go to the gym, I feel proud of myself because it REALLY takes a lot out of me. Do you feel uncomfortable when people you hardly know confide in you? Nope. I'm willing to be a shoulder to cry on for like... anyone. If you're hurting, talk to someone. I'll be there as an easy option. What was the last thing to fascinate you? It was... INCREDIBLY disturbing and almost nauseating even for me, but I saw a video of a dead whale explode. It was GRUESOME. Guts just kept coming and coming and coming and :x Is there a certain noise/sound which scares you? Hmmm... I'm sure there is, but what, it's not coming to me. Sudden, loud noises are an obvious answer. Do you have a favourite microorganism? ... No, I can't say I do. Out of the people you know, whose birthday is next? Girt's, actually. It's in October. If you have pet fish do you bother to name them? I did when I actually had them as a kid. Do you keep your eggs in the fridge? Ye. Have you ever owned chickens? No, but that'd be cool. Fresh eggs from a properly cared for chicken taste SO much better. When did you last listen to music? Currently. NOW I'm obsessed with Melodicka Bros & Violet Orlandi's cover of "Somebody That I Used to Know." It's done in a gothic metal style and is amaaaazing.

[saiilorstars]

Falling in Temptation

Previous chapters • Sequel to Stars Dance •  Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)

Ch. 30: A Whole New World

Fandom: Doctor Who // Pairing: 11th Doctor x OFC

Chapter summary: More years have passed for the Ponds without the Doctor but this time Avalon has tried to build a life outside of him. She's got a right to know who she is, after all, now that the world knows who she is.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother​ @anotherunreadblog​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​ @stareyedplanet​ @perfectlystiles​

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

Traditional Christmas music played lightly in the background of a very busy coffee shop. It was larger than most coffee shops but it had a homey style to it. It had brick walls lined with portraits of unconventional art. A lot of them came from small-time artists looking for publicity. High circular tables filled the middle of the room. Each table bore a small Christmas tree in the middle. The counter was set to the left where only one man was working it for the night. The shelves behind him were stocked with coffee grounds and the required alcoholic beverages for the customers. It was perfect for customers wanting to stay up all night to study and for those partiers. One long Christmas garland with twinkling lights and pine-cones hung from one side of the counter to the other. The same garland covered bits of the walls and, most importantly, the small stage at the end.

There was only one waitress working the entire place; she was the only one willing to work the shop on Christmas Eve. She maneuvered through the tables with ease, jotting down orders and delivering others. She stopped by the counter where the owner was busy filling the orders.

The short man with bright blue skin turned around to place down another tray. He eyed the waitress as she finished ripping off the next order from her pad. "You sure you got things, Avalon?"

Avalon looked up from the pad with a big grin on her face. "Yeah! You just keep 'em coming, Mr. Golais. The customers don't care if I'm a little slow. It's Christmas Eve, after all," she shrugged. "They're in the spirits."

"Well I should think so considering how you decorated the place again. Why didn't you come sooner to me, hm?"

Avalon chuckled. "I was a bit busy saving the world...and messing it up. An endless cycle, really."

Mr. Golais looked at her like he always would when she brought up her adventures from the past. To know that the young lady was responsible for saving their world multiple times was baffling and yet, knowing who her parents were, it made complete sense. Melody Pond and Oliver Reynolds had been in the shop so many times in the past that he lost count. Oliver Reynolds had once been his star in the place. Mr. Golais allowed Oliver to play shows nearly every night when he was at school. Now he had Oliver's daughter, and while she didn't play or sing every night, the times she did she had all of the customers praising her.

He hoped Avalon would lend her voice to welcome Christmas tonight too.

"Karaoke's about to begin," Avalon reminded after checking her watch, the watch she never stopped wearing. "Do you want to open it or should I?"

Mr. Golais was checking the new order to get started when he noticed three familiar heads walking into the shop. "Ah, I think I better do it. You have company."

Avalon followed his nod towards the entrance and saw Amy, Rory and River coming towards them. She beamed and set her things down on the counter. She rushed over to hug them hello. "You came!"

"Well since you declined our offer to come to Earth for Christmas, what choice did we have?" Amy grumbled even though everyone knew she wanted to be far away from Christmas carolers. Last year she and Avalon had set up a competition to see who could spray more water carolers.

"Oh, c'mon, you know you love this place. You know I do," Avalon gestured to the lively shop. They popped in every now and then to see how she was doing living in the 51st century. She preferred to live alone ever since the Doctor had left them. Living alone had done her good to organize all her thoughts and feelings. She was trying to continue living her life and it seemed that for now she'd found the perfect place to do so. She always said she wanted to visit the spot where her father spent most of his time when he was alive and so that's what she did.

"It's pretty packed," Rory noticed after hugging her next. "Are you the only one working tonight?"

"Yeah but it's fine. It's Christmas Eve!"

"And you're looking wonderful," River opened her arms for her hug. "Where are we, by the way?"

"I'm 3 years after the pyramid," Avalon informed her and pulled away. "And you're very right, I do look good." She was dressed for Christmas Eve! Why wouldn't she look good? She wore a sleeveless red turtleneck shirt tucked under a black skirt. She had black tights with small black heart prints running up and down. She'd paired it with ankle-length heeled shoes. Her lips were bright red and her makeup all natural. She didn't want to shine too much under the stage lights when she had to go up.

"Love the hair," River reached for one of Avalon's wavy strands.

Avalon had also straightened her hair to leave it decently wavy. She would forgo the outstanding curls for tonight. "Thanks! Where are you at?"

"Just finished climbing out of the Byzantium. You were so young. Had no idea who I was."

Avalon nodded, smiling lightly. It seemed like she'd been meeting older versions of River ever since the pyramid. Every now and then she would bump into the younger versions but she was still waiting to meet the very first version of River after being incarcerated. She assumed it either hadn't happened to her or she just couldn't remember it happening when she was a younger version herself. Time travel, it was far too difficult.

River still made the effort to keep working on earning Avalon's affections as her Mother despite not being the younger version of herself who'd made that promise to Avalon. Avalon had invited her several times to come see her sing in the coffee shop—he really did have a beautiful voice, Oliver would've been proud—and sometimes they went off and had adventures together. Avalon had been very confused in the beginning but the one thing that she was sure of was that she liked spending time with River. They had already been friends before and now that she knew she was her daughter, Avalon had expected River to kick it up and act like a full Mother but that didn't happen. River continued to look out for her like always. She wouldn't touch Avalon if she didn't have to and each time she did touch her, she would be cautious of Avalon's reaction. Being on her own meant that Avalon would spend a lot of time without seeing her family, including River. While it had only been two years since the Doctor first left them in Leadworth, three years had passed by for Avalon. Avalon had a lot of time to truly think about whether or not she would want to call River 'Mum' at some point and while she decided that she did want to, the moment hadn't happened yet. But she did like her relationship with River. Things were almost good.

"No Reynolds this year?" Amy asked after scanning the shop. She was also searching for an empty table.

"Uh, no," Avalon shook her head. "But they sent their love and they want you guys to visit them."

"Well it's a bit hard to do so when they live on New Earth, you know, in the future!" Rory thought that was a very good reason for lack of visits. "They can buy us a vortex manipulator if they're that upset."

"Father, with your luck, you would teleport yourself to the prehistoric era," River patted Rory's arm and went in search of a table. Rory gawked at her, stammering while he followed her saying that he most certainly would not. Behind him, Amy assured Avalon that it would happen.

Avalon smiled after them. She returned to the counter to continue delivering orders. Every now and then she would stop by the Ponds' table to keep the conversation going. These were the moments where she would catch up on what happened in Leadworth during her absences.

"My Dad's just moved back to Leadworth," Rory said after Avalon stopped by to hand them all their cinnamon rolls, a new product she'd convinced Mr. Golais would be a hit. "Said the city was too much. That's as far as he's going in terms of 'traveling'."

"I like your Dad," Avalon chuckled and reached for Amy's coffee. "He's so...goofy, in an adorable kind of way. You could have inherited that, you know."

Rory frowned at her. "I'm going to submit a complaint about you."

"Good luck, I'm Mr. Golais' favorite!" Avalon smirked.

"So where's the Sapling this year?" Amy asked, looking around to see if she would catch sight of her tree great-grandson.

"This year, he decided not to visit his Mum for Christmas," Avalon said with a huff. "Something about an adventure he just couldn't pass up. But he said he'd be around for New Years." She went off to attend to the others customers.

A while later she returned after delivering two sets of shots to a couple of young men. She might have directed the competition, who knew. She might also have encouraged Amy and Rory to try out that karaoke machine. She and River had the time of their life laughing at them trying to sing along to My Heart Will Go On.

"You know you're next, right?" River nudged her side. "What are you singing for Christmas this year?"

"Dunno," Avalon shrugged. Each year for Christmas Eve she would sing a traditional Christmas song from Earth. It was bemusing how much the people would love it. "Still thinking about it. Why don't you go up and sing something?"

"Oh no, I don't do karaoke. I never do karaoke," River shook her head and reached for her vodka.

Avalon laughed and headed off to keep working. She would later ask Mr. Golais for the security feed to get proof of Amy's and Rory's grand debut as singers.

"Orders are finally laying off," she told Mr. Golais when she was able to take a short break of coming back and forth with orders. She checked her watch. "It's nearly midnight, actually. Do you have the muffins?"

"Avalon Reynolds, do you think I would not have the muffins ready for Christmas?" Mr. Golais shot her a mock offended look. She had introduced him to the concept of 'the Grinch' from Earth and he had loved it. Now, every year for Christmas, the shop would offer Grinch muffins that were actually green and red sprinkles on top. Each customer would get one free muffin.

Avalon went around the counter with a laugh. "Sorry. So then, shall I go up on the stage and do my thing?"

"Please," Mr. Golais gestured for her to take the stage. "I know these people are my customers but some of them need to stop trying to sing. Just because they're drunk doesn't mean our ears don't work."

"They're having fun, Mr. Golais. Don't be a Grinch!" Avalon said as she moved on for the stage.

At the Ponds' table, River had received a mysterious call. Rory eyed the cellphone in her hand with confusion. "Since when do you carry a cellphone?"

She moved the phone away from her mouth to answer him. "Since my daughter gave it to me, now hush."

"Who are you talking to?" Rory asked when she promised the caller that they were 'here'. "Don't tell them where we are! What if it's a trap!?"

"What's going on?" Amy asked as she returned from the restroom. "And why are you panicking?"

Rory pointed an accusing finger towards their daughter. "She's telling mysterious people where we are!"

River rolled her eyes and patted his arm. "Calm down, Father. I was just talking to someone."

"Since when do you have a cellphone?" Amy asked when she spotted the phone on the table.

"Since Avalon gave it to me ages ago!"

"She hasn't," Amy frowned.

"But she will one day!"

Amy wasn't even going to try to figure out their complicated time traveling business. She just took her seat and looked around. "So, what's happening?"

"Nearly Christmas now," Rory told her. He reached for his espresso to take a sip. "And Avalon's by the stage waiting for the last karaokers to finish."

"Thank God," River said with a scowl that matched the one on Amy's. "When I'm drunk, I have the decency not to sing."

Avalon patiently waited by the stage for the last singers to finish. Normally she'd be impatient but she had things to do to pass the time. The wall next to the stage was covered with picture frames of musicians who'd been the favorites of the shop. Oliver Reynolds was one of them. Every time Avalon walked by that wall, she always stopped to gaze at her father's picture. Mr. Golais said that he had taken the picture when Oliver had sung his first original song. Oliver was on stage, sitting on a stool, with his favorite red guitar in hand. He was in the middle of playing when the picture was taken. He looked handsome as ever having the time of his life doing what he loved most.

"Merry Christmas, Daddy," Avalon gingerly brushed her fingers over the frame. She would make sure to bring flowers to his gravestone later in the week.

"Avalon," Mr. Golais suddenly appeared behind her. "You have a visitor."

"What?" Avalon checked the Ponds' table and saw the same people from before. "Who? Lena?"

"No, no, some man. He's at the front."

"What makes him so special that he expects me to walk all the way over there?" Avalon said with a face that made Mr. Golais laugh. "I mean it."

"Here, have a muffin and hurry back." Mr. Golais handed her a green muffin. "You still got a Christmas song to sing."

"Right," she shrugged and headed off. "Sit down!" She told a few of the more loose customers. She liked her audience to either be still or sitting down and that group wasn't either right now.

She searched for the mysterious customer around the entrance but no one was looking at her like they expected her. She thought to peek outside and was already on the other side when she realized how terrible an idea that was.

"Listen you," she started to call out, "If you have any smart ideas, just know that I was recently gifted a new blaster courtesy of my…" She scrunched her face each time she thought of how to best describe River at the moment, "...almost Mum, and I am not afraid to use it." Of course it would be more of a threat if she was actually carrying the new blaster but he or she didn't know. "Okay seriously, I'm getting cold." She groaned. Clearly, they had just taken her and Mr. Golais on a stupid joke and here she was like an idiot playing through it. She turned back for the doors; she had a stage to take after all.

"Could I have a muffin, Miss?"

Avalon froze in her spot, her free hand stopping midway towards the door handle.

"I would've ordered as soon as you came out but I was taken by your beauty."

Avalon tilted her head to the side, her lips curling into a smile that nearly turned into a laugh. "...you are so cheesy." She'd heard many cheesy lines during her tenure as a waitress in the shop but none of them made her laugh with a jolting heart like his did. In fact, everyone else's cheesy lines irritated her. She yelled at many of them.

The Doctor had walked up to her side but for some reason she wasn't looking at him. He didn't mind. He was still taking her in and he could do it for so many more hours.

"You came back," she said quietly. The ground was so interesting right now.

"Yes, I had to. I told you I would."

"But why now?"

"I couldn't take it anymore." That was an understatement. He'd survived a couple more years without her but little by little he was losing his will to keep travelling. Everything seemed boring no matter where he went. Each time he saw a couple, his mind went to Avalon and all their little moments together. He saw a family and he thought of the Ponds. Every redhead was Avalon. Every book was her, every story was her.

It all sat inside until his most recent 'adventure' led him to a nice woman - a mother and widow - named Madge who had two children and who was having the saddest Christmas ever. Since she'd helped him out at one point, he thought he could return the favor and maybe even quench his growing agitation with himself. He tried making Christmas the best day for Madge and her children but she couldn't be grateful because she had to tell her children that their father was dead. One thing led to another and suddenly he found himself in the middle of another dangerous adventure. At the end of the day, Madge discovered her husband wasn't dead. She had saved him.

Avalon had saved him too so many times.

Before he knew it, Madge was asking him about his family. Family. Pain crossed through his hearts when he explained that he did have a family - even a wife - but they were all so far away. He hadn't seen them in many years...and it was killing him. Madge urged him to seek them out and spend Christmas with them. No one should spend the holidays alone. The Doctor had spent so much time on his own because of the Silence's threat but he started to realize that the Silence had taken far more than just his 'life'. He'd left Avalon for God knows how many years from her perspective. The Silence had done so many things to them, when would it stop if he didn't make it stop? He had a family, he had a wife, and he deserved to be with them.

"I can't stay away anymore," he said to Avalon who'd silently waited for him to continue. "The Silence is still out there but you and I...we deserve happiness, don't we? It's been a very long time for me."

"So are you here to stay now?"

"Actually, I was hoping that maybe I could finally get a, uh, second passenger aboard?"

Avalon finally lifted her eyes off the ground to meet his gaze. "Really?" Her lips were cautiously waiting for his answer before forming a smile.

"Yes. Can I take my wife home tonight?"

There was the smile she was fighting off. "Home?"

The Doctor nodded at her. "The TARDIS. It's our home...if you want it to be, I mean." Avalon pretended to think about it but she actually had the poor Doctor wondering if she'd changed her mind about them. What if she no longer wanted to be his wife!? Maybe in her time alone she'd found someone better!

Avalon could practically see the turmoil he was in. She laughed at him. "My Fairy Tale Man, still clueless as ever." That might've been an insult but the Doctor still loved hearing it. "My shift ends in 2 hours."

"Right…"

"I am due back though. I do a Christmas song each year."

"Okay," he agreed. He could do 2 more hours before stealing her away.

Avalon offered him her muffin, making him laugh. "It's the Grinch," she explained. "You know, 'his heart grew 4 times the size'?"

"Yes, I am familiar with the story."

"...is he real?" Avalon suddenly asked when he took the muffin from her. "Last time you proved that Santa Claus was real. So is, like, the Grinch also real? No, wait, that's not the right question. Can I meet him!?"

The Doctor laughed as he chewed the muffin. It was actually really good. "I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him but...maybe he's real? Don't know." He swallowed down. "I guess maybe we can take a look when we're back in the TARDIS. We've got the whole world ahead of us, really…" A new, bigger, smile had spread across Avalon's face when he started talking about their future. "I was thinking maybe we could finally go to Akhetan now. After that, there's this beautiful planet that's literally made out of crystals. I think its neighbor to that planet the Sapling wanted to take you. We could go there and then maybe pop back into the 1920s to see Zelda again - hey!"

Avalon had tossed the muffin out of his hand and dove towards him for a long kiss. He dropped all annoyance to fiercely kiss her back. It was there and then that he made a promise to himself to never leave her again. How could he live without her anyways?

"I...have a song...to play…" Avalon said in-between their kisses. "Come inside. Amy, Rory and River are there."

"I know, River told me," he said, making her stop kissing altogether.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "You've been talking to River?"

"No, well...no! I just called to know where you are."

"Since when does she have a cellphone?"

"Since you gave her one!"

"What? No, I haven't!"

"You will!" He bopped her nose and pulled her into the shop.

Soon as Avalon was back inside - and gave another muffin to the Doctor - she went right for the stage. Mr. Golais was still waiting for her.

"It's nearly Christmas now!" He said, slightly irritated, she was cutting it very close to midnight.

"Sorry, Mr. Golais, I was talking to my husband!" She planted a kiss on his bald head, ignoring his stammering for that sudden drop of information. She gave a light tap to the microphone. "Scuse me?" She called twice more before everyone was decently quiet. She didn't mind, though. She was watching the Doctor get hugged and hugged by Amy and Rory. He didn't seem to mind either because he kept taking each hug he got. "Well, there's five minutes left until Christmas—" She stopped abruptly when the crowd burst into cheers. She smiled and waited for things to die down so she could continue. "As usual, we will be opening karaoke again after we do our little Christmas song together." There was a bit more cheering that followed. "As usual, you're very welcomed to bring out a dancing partner."

"Can I take you out to dance, sweetheart?" A young man in one of the front tables called out, making the rest laugh.

From his spot, the Doctor glowered at the man. "I don't like him."

"Calm down," Amy rolled her eyes at him and rubbed his arm. "She gets that all the time."

"Oh, that's supposed to make me feel better?" The Doctor threw her a glare that had her wincing.

"Calm down, she always says no," Rory said, only for River to snort from across the table.

"You mean you scare them off before she says anything."

"Ah, you see that, Rory's my favorite," the Doctor grinned at him.

Avalon cleared her throat on stage. She had skipped over the guy and moved on. As soon as the song started, the Doctor and the Ponds recognized it. "Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special…"

"You have no idea how much she sounds like Oliver," River sighed contentedly. She didn't even bat an eye with Rory's flashing camera. She, along with Amy and Avalon, had long ago gotten used to the idea that he wasn't going to let it go. He was a 'proud grandfather' and he had the albums to prove it!

"Once bitten and twice shy,

I keep my distance,

But you still catch my eye,

Tell me, baby,

Do you recognize me?"

People started getting up to dance just as Avalon had encouraged them to. Meanwhile, Mr. Golais continued passing around more Grinch muffins.

"Well, it's been a year,

It doesn't surprise me,

Merry Christmas, I wrapped it up and sent it,

With a note saying, 'I love you', I meant it,

Now, I know what a fool I've been,

But if you kissed me now,

I know you'd fool me again.

River ordered a whole batch of them to go, commenting to the Doctor how Stormcage actually liked them too. It bought her many 'free days' with the guards. Rory eventually asked Amy to dance and led her away.

It was a very hard thing for the Doctor to wait for Avalon to be free so he could dance with her too. She looked so lovely right now and knowing that there was some other guy wanting to dance with her too made it incredibly challenging to sit still. As soon as she finished singing, though, he was out of his chair zooming through the customers.

Avalon had only made it one step down from the stage when the Doctor pulled her off in a spinning hug. "You are a wonderful singer! The absolute best!"

"Okay, okay, put me down! I've eaten a lot of pastries!" She laughed and hit his shoulders until he obeyed and put her down.

"You're just amazing, do you know?" He was breathless from all the spinning.

Avalon smiled at him. "Yeah," she pulled him towards the wall with her father's portrait and pointed at it. "This is where he used to play all the time."

It suddenly clicked for the Doctor. The entire shop, the waitress gig, she'd come to this place to be close to her father. He should've known. "He'd be very proud of you." He kissed her. He suddenly forgot all about the dancing now that he had her in his arms, possibly against a wall, kissing her.

"Here you are, Dr. Song," Mr. Golais dropped by the Ponds' table with River's white box of Grinch muffins. "I threw in an extra one for you. Like Avalon, you're my special one!"

River laughed. "Thank you." She opened the box to dig into her first muffin.

"But I must ask, has anyone seen my only waitress?" He sighed and set his hands on his hips.

Neither Amy or Rory wanted to point out that his waitress, their granddaughter, was currently snogging her husband who had her up against a wall. They didn't even want to keep seeing it. They shuddered.

"I'm sure she's around here somewhere," Rory forced himself to answer with a smile on his face but as soon as Mr. Golais had left, he leaned to Amy, "I'm gonna have to wash my eyes out." She nodded.

~ 0 ~

"It's nearly the end of your shift…" the Doctor pointed out after taking Avalon's wrist bearing her watch. Avalon ran her fingers down his chest then pulled him closer. He was happy to oblige with her desire for another kiss but he really wanted to leave things clear about what they were going to do. "Ava, are you listening to me?"

"Listening, tuning out...whatever," she shrugged. "I'm interested in these…" She brushed her fingers over his lips. "And what I want them to do to me."

"W-well yeah that's a thing," he cleared his throat and knew that he had to step away if he really wanted to speak clearly. "But Avalon, your shift is ending. I asked you to come with me. What are you going to do?"

Her expression indicated that it should be obvious what she was going to do. "I want to leave with you."

"And what about this?" He gestured to the shop. "You love this place…"

Avalon cleared her throat and brought him back to her, though this time there was no kissing. "I came here because I wanted to be close to my Dad. I had no idea who he was and Mr. Golais was kind enough to give me a job here, right where my Dad once worked. I got what I came for. I learned so much about him, I've met people that used to know him. I'm good now. What I'd like to do now is to finally be with you," she caressed his face. "Take me home, Fairy Tale Man."

A deep smile crossed the Doctor's face with those words. "You mean that? Right now?"

She nodded and let her hands fall to his chest. "Plus, you owe me one wedding night and a honeymoon."

"Ah," he stiffened under her hands. There was a certainly good image in his head suddenly.

"Can you do that?"

"Oh, you just wait." Darkness flashed across his eyes, making it far too tempting for Avalon to run out with him in that moment.

"I've done my waiting," she said with a finality in her tone that left no room for further discussion. She had stated what she wanted and now he needed to follow through.

The Doctor stepped away from her and held his hand out, saying the words he always wanted to ever since he found out who she really was. "Come along, Pond." Avalon couldn't help the laugh that came through her mouth. She took his hand and gripped it tight.

It would only be twenty minutes when Mr. Golais returned to the Ponds with two notes in his hands, one addressed to him and the other bearing 'For the Ponds' on the front. "I believe my waitress just resigned," he announced, though not very surprised.

River took the last card for them and opened it up to read with her parents. "'Off with my husband...be back whenever'," she read with a laugh.

"She did not—" Amy grabbed the note to read for herself. "She did! She just left without telling us!"

"No, she told you right there," River tapped the note and grabbed her muffin again.

"So that's it then?" Rory took the card from Amy's hand and read Avalon's note. "They just...disappear on us?" River shrugged. "And you're okay with that?"

"She's 27 years old, she's an adult," River offered her parents some muffins. "You'll see her again."

"Yeah but when?" Amy gave her a pleading look. She didn't want to go years without seeing Avalon and the Doctor.

River seemed to smile like she knew the exact answer, and maybe she did. "It'll be a while for them, but they'll be back."

~ 0 ~

"Wait, wait," the Doctor had stopped Avalon right in front of the TARDIS. He grinned mischievously, something she worried for until he scooped her up into his arms like a proper bride. She laughed. "Tradition, right?"

"Right," she nodded. "But hey, you didn't meet anyone else in the meantime, right?"

The Doctor thought about it and got an idea that he was sure to get punched for but still decided it was worth it anyways, "Well, there was this one woman."

A frown came to Avalon's face. Was he that stupid to be honest like that? "A woman?"

"Yeah, she was incredible, adventurous and bold," the Doctor continued with a shrug, "She was absolutely amazing."

"Oh..."

"And you know what?" The Doctor met her angry face with a near laugh.

"What?"

"I totally married her at the top of a pyramid," he whispered with a smug smile.

Avalon's face fell flat. "I really hate you!"

The Doctor laughed as he brought them into the TARDIS. "I really think that you don't."

"I do! Now put me down! This marriage is over! Put me down!" She hit her fist against his chest.

The Doctor watched her with a warm smile. Instead of telling her to stop, he thought of a much more creative way of doing it. "I can show you the world. Shining, shimmering, splendid. Tell me, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?"

Avalon's fist stopped just above his chest when he started singing. "You don't sing…" She whispered.

"I do for you," he said. He'd technically been singing to her since she was a newborn. He might not have the best singing voices - in fact he was sure that he was terrible at it - but Avalon watched him with such a soft expression, how could he ever tell her 'no'. "I can open your eyes. Take you wonder by wonder. Over, sideways and under. On a magic carpet ride…" Avalon laughed as he spun her around. She clung to him just in case his bad luck made its appearance and knocked him off his feet. "A whole new world. A new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us, "No". Or where to go, or say we're only dreaming…" The Doctor came to a stop and looked at her expectantly. He was making a fool of himself but it would be worth it if she joined in with his shenanigans.

When wouldn't she?

"A whole new world. A dazzling place I never knew," Avalon sang with her soft voice. "But when I'm way up here. It's crystal clear. That now I'm in a whole new world with you..." She ran her hand down the side of his face as they finished together.

"Now I'm in a whole new world with you…"

"Beautiful," the Doctor gave her a kiss. His eyes flickered to the Time Rotor. "Dear, how about you take us away, hm? I've got to show my wife to our new room."

Avalon lifted an eyebrow at him. "New room?"

"Well, I just thought, you know…" the Doctor cleared his throat, barely shifting when the TARDIS moved them. "It's a brand new room that the TARDIS created, pretty basic until we decide what to put in it. Would you like that?"

Avalon nodded her head. "I would love that."

The Doctor started for the corridors, promising her that he truly had not added nor taken anything from the new room. The TARDIS had only just created it when he set for the coffee shop. It would be entirely theirs as they filled it up with whatever they wanted.

Avalon instantly knew that he was right for when he brought her in, it was just a simple bedroom with a large bet and the essential nightstands and dressers. She did, however, spot a writing desk on the left and a working desk on the right. It was the basics, just waiting for them to make it their own...as a couple, a married couple.

"I'm going to want string lights," she started, making the Doctor chuckle. Of course she would already know what she wanted. He had to put her down as she started listing the things that would eventually fill the room. "Maybe a few stencils for the walls, don't worry my dear TARDIS, nothing tacky."

The TARDIS hummed and the Doctor was once again put out that she had completely allowed for the stencils to happen. He once drew on the walls and had sparks coming out of the console for weeks. The injustice!

Avalon flopped down on the foot of the bed, sliding her hands over the smooth red quilt. "I'm definitely going to want some bed curtains. And maybe a change of quilts. I'm thinking of blue. Like TARDIS blue." She met the Doctor's gaze and smiled. He was staring at her like she was the most fascinating thing in the world. She was certainly not. "What?"

"I really missed you," he whispered, his face falling despondent. "I spent days in your old bedroom, weeks. Actually, I never let it go."

Avalon's smile faded for a moment. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm never leaving you." She held his arms out for him. "Now come here, Fairy Tale Man. Let me show you how much I've missed you."

The Doctor obeyed and came forwards. He planted his hands on either side of her, gazing into her beautiful eyes. He couldn't wait to wake up to those eyes from now on. He closed the small gap between them with a kiss. She lifted her hands from the quilt to wrap around him. She had no intention of letting him go, at least not for the night, so when he abruptly pulled away she was mighty annoyed. It didn't last long when he knelt down in front of her.

"You must be so tired," he gingerly took her left leg that was crossed over her other and undid the latch of her shoes. "Can I do something for you?"

"Anything you want." Avalon watched him undo the latch of her other shoe. She felt a tingle as he started leaving kisses up her left leg, stopping at the hem of her skirt.

He lifted his gaze, smirking at her fascinated gaze. He rose further to meet her lips again. She pushed his jacket off and happily threw it to the side. She would love seeing that on the floor when she woke up the next day, as well as…

The Doctor had barely felt when she'd undone his bowtie, but he'd certainly loved watching her throw it to the side as well. They kissed again, harder and rougher. Even their hands were speeding up. Avalon had already unbuttoned his shirt but she had to slide his braces down his arms. She suddenly stopped everything to laugh. When the Doctor asked her what was so funny—because this was not something he wanted to hear tonight of all nights—all Avalon had to say was…

"I just never thought I'd marry someone who wears suspenders!"

"Oh, ha, ha," the Doctor mocked her laugh with his own. "Well, I never thought I'd marry a Pond! My Pond! Pond number 4!"

"Four? Why am I Pond number 4!?" Avalon's face warned him to answer that cautiously or else the entire night could be postponed.

"Amy and Rory are Ponds 1 and 2, River's Pond 3 and you are Pond 4!"

Avalon wasn't impressed. She grabbed him by the collars of his open shirt and pulled him closer. "I'm not number four. I'm number one," she declared, "I like being number one."

"Yes you do," the Doctor agreed, leaving it up to her on how she would like to convince him to change the order.

"I really hate you," she mumbled before kissing.

"You really don't," he murmured against her lips. He would show her just how much she actually didn't hate him. He slipped his hands under her shirt, smirking when she felt her stiffen. He pulled away to bring the shirt over her. He was mighty happy to chuck it behind him.

Avalon couldn't help blush under his admiring gaze. She supposed it was the same for her when she pulled his shirt off. Just the beginning. She met his lips again with a sweet kiss. The Doctor gently pushed her further onto the bed, his hands roaming down her body while she forced him to kick his shoes off. How else was she supposed to get the pants off? The Doctor blushed when she made that comment, especially because her fingers were already playing with the belt loop of his pants. She would always be bold and he would never want to change that.

He was fortunate enough to have an entire future with her from now on.

Author's Note:

Being completely blunt here, I fucking loved writing this story. Stars Dance is my baby but this one was just better in my mind. I hope you guys liked it too!

I hope this chapter was a cringe fluffy as possible because that's what I was going for honestly. After everything they'd gone through, my girl Ava and 11 needed some happy times!

Next up is the epilogue (you'll want to read that to get the answer to the unanswered mysterious question!).