#course i was working at a theme park so we had ids from all over the country

[gibbearish]

oh psa but if you're in an industry that checks IDs and the person in front of you is clearly trans, don't make comments about anything on that ID. for instance saying "OMG your middle name's Danielle? that's my name too!!!" to someone 5 feet tall with a full beard is perhaps not the best choice one could make if one didn't want to put a neon glowing sign above that person's head saying "THIS IS A TRANSGENDER" to everyone they're with

[come-on-darling-honey]

colourblind [paul lahote x reader]

AN:// this pushes all of the wolves and new moon plot to summer.

summary: based on this post of how the shift Paul and the others experience would give them physical attributes akin to a wolf, which is being colourblind. Which Paul finds himself in, until of course, he sees you for the first time in months on the first day of summer.

warnings- mature language and themes. one suggestive scene. 18+ word count 10k.

“La Push baby! Its LaPush!”

“Do you have to say that every time we go to LaPush?” I asked, staring at the back of Mike and Eric’s heads in the van. They were singing and screaming into the warm air as we drove down to First Beach.

“He said that to me when I first came to LaPush,” Bella added, meekly. I laughed, lightly pushing against her. She was wearing a white blouse and tan shorts, opposing my dark shorts and tight blue shirt, Angela had gotten me it when she went to the Grand Canyon with her family. It read “visit the Grand Canyon today!” on the back, so ugly I loved it.

“He’s been saying it since we were five and our parents would carpool us in the summer.” I whispered to Bella; we were both laughing at the terrifying attempt from Mike to sing ‘Wanna Be’ by Spice Girls. Butchering the lines didn’t matter to Mike, it was summer. First day of it. Bella was finally out of the pit she had found herself in.

I’d spent almost every Friday and Saturday night of the past seven months sleeping over at the Swan house, waiting for Bella to come through. At first it was scary, the screaming and the vacancy of her mind, but she’s better now. At least I hope she is, Charlie thinks so, but I’m worried she’s becoming dependent on our friend Jacob. Coming to First Beach did mean a far chance we could run into Jacob, but it also means she’s surrounded by other people, and as annoying as Mikes singing is, I can tell she’s enjoying it.

“Are you okay?” I heard Bella say, we’d parked, and the boys were getting their surfing gear on. I hadn’t even noticed; Bella was wide eyed like a little deer and grasping onto my shoulder. “Is it to do with Paul?”

“No,” I laughed uncomfortably shaking her off as I got out of the seat into the back, taking of my clothes to reveal my favourite bikini underneath. “Not even thinking about him.” Which was true, to an extent. I had been thinking about Paul Lahote all morning and all last night and the day before, and every day since three weeks ago but that wasn’t in this moment. So technically… not a lie!

She watched me in clear disbelief but didn’t push it. She knew some rumours about Paul from Jacob, not kind ones but as the days go on, I’m starting to believe them myself. Hall monitors on steroids. “What book are you bringing?” Bella asked, changing the subject.

“The Metamorphosis by Kafka, are you rereading Austen again?” I said, searching through my bag for suncream. The only way id gotten Bella to agree to coming today was to promise I’d stay by her side all day and we can just read on the beach. Which worked out well for me, I always hated getting changed after leaving the ocean, everything stuck to you; clothes, sand, everything. She nodded and sheepishly pulled Persuasion out of her bag. Bella grabbed the towels we were going to lay on as I surveyed the beach for the best spot, there were a lot more people than usual but it’s what I expected. The remote spot in the south corner seemed perfect. Setting down camp, I heard laughter and colliding footsteps coming towards us, Mike, Eric and now Tyler ran to our spot, and all jumped over one another to lay on the sand. Not a single cloud in the sky, not that the boys noticed, too busy apologising to Bella for covering her towel with sand. Laughing it off quietly she shook the towel and threw all the sand on the boys. She stopped laughing as she looked over my shoulder. Standing up I saw, Sam Uley talking with Jared, Paul and Embry? But Embry was huge and at least half a foot taller than when I last saw him. They began kicking a ball around until Paul suddenly turned in my direction. Swivelling quickly, I stared into the sea. Sitting down on my towel that I was apparently sharing with Jess, I looked over at Bella. Giving me a comforting smile, she nodded towards our books that sat in the bag at the foot of her towel.

A few hours had passed when Jacob and Quil had made their way over to us, Jess, Angela, and the boys had all decided to go on an impromptu adventure leaving Bella and I in peace, that is until Quil collapsed on my towel and Jacob calmly sat next to Bella.

“See how normal Jake is?” I asked kicking Quil with my foot, “Be more like Jake.” They all laughed as the fiend on my towel rolled over.

“Figured you needed protecting.” He said, puffing his chest put lightly with a boyish smile.

“From what?” Bella laughed.

“Lahote’s been staring at you for a while,” Jacob said staring at me. Turning around I saw Paul from a distance, I could barely make out his face but saw that he definitely wasn’t happy.

“Well thank you gentlemen, but we can handle ourselves.” I said, laughing when Quil got hit with a rouge baseball.

We spoke for a while, making jokes at each other’s expense and avoiding the subject of Embry completely. Bella and I had come to an unspoken agreement that if they wanted to talk about it, they would. I looked around the beach and saw a stall on the pavement beyond the pavilion, an old lady selling handmade jewellery. I told Bella, Jake, and Quil that I was going to see what she was selling and grabbed my purse from my bag. Making my way over across the hot sand I regretted not grabbing a shirt from Quil or Jake or even making a detour to the van, so many people were looking at me, even if they were wearing the same thing, I felt so exposed.

“Hello dear, having a good day?” The lady asked as I finally reached her stand. We spoke about the weather and then about her creations, one with a beautiful orange crystal in the middle had caught my eye. “Citrine, they bring positivity and happiness” she winked once she caught where I was looking. I grabbed my purse but before I could hand over the $5 someone else passed it to her. Following the tan hand, I saw Paul; he was looking at the lady and explained he’d buy it for me. She smiled and accepted the money, handing him the necklace over. Paul looked at the necklace in his hand and squinted, looking oddly heartbroken.

“I can buy it myself.” I said as he walked a few steps out of earshot of the old lady. He still hadn’t actually looked me in the eye yet. It was infuriating. “You know its super fucking rude of you to ignore me for weeks, replace me with new friends, act like I don’t exist and then pretend like nothings happened.” He tensed at this; I kept going. “And now you won’t even look me in the eye!” I laughed, his large shoulders straightened, God when did he get so big.

As he turned around something shifted, I’m not sure what but it was definitely something. He stared at me wide eyed, speechless and I saw tension fall from him. But I had no patience for him.

“Are you going to give me the necklace or should I just go and buy one for myself.” This seemed to snap him out of it, he passed me the necklace and kept looking at me. Not staring anymore, more of a gaze. Not voyeuristic as the other gazes from men on the beach but an intimate one, one I wanted to avoid. His eyes are a stunning brown, I think to my painting at home, I’d made him sit for hours, waiting for the result when I’d spent twenty minutes alone painting half an eye, he waited.

Tearing myself away from him I look down at the necklace, it was beautiful. I had to not owe him this. I took the $5 out of my purse and pressed it to his chest. He finally caught on and gently pushed my hand away.

“Take it.” I demanded.

“It’s a gift.” He whispered, the way he used to.

“Please take it.” I begged lightly; I couldn’t owe him for this.

“What is going on?” A harsh voice interrupted us. Quil had stood in front of my right shoulder, not hiding me completely but being a clear attempt to shield me. He didn’t know any of the details of what happened between Paul and I, but honestly, I didn’t either. He just knew how broken I was, crying to him when Bella, Jake, and Embry weren’t around. Knowing I couldn’t handle their silent looks.

“None of your fucking business, Ateara.” Paul snapped, his body tightening. Quil pushed him, suddenly Jared was holding Paul back and Sam had appeared in front of us. He had whispered something to Paul that I couldn’t catch but it looked more like a demand. One I wasn’t entirely sure was in Quil and I’s favour or not.

Jacob had arrived by this point, staring at Embry in disbelief who had told Quil to ‘back off’, Embry was normally so sweet and quiet. The way he was acting as he was influenced by the others was a clear sign to the mentality that I didn’t want anything to do with. Paul had caught my eye from over Sam’s shoulder, a pleading sense to him. I looked away, staring at Quil’s back. I couldn’t do this, get caught up in whatever teenage boy bullshit was going on. I was 18, Paul 19, Quil 17. I had no fucking interest. Ignoring the yells of my name I walked back to Bella who had watched the whole affair in bewilderment. I walked back to Bella in more confidence then when I had left, I couldn’t explain it, but I knew the people looking know, weren’t looking at me and if they were it, was a good thing. Sitting on the towel I thanked Bella for staying with the stuff and picked up my book. Not before placing the Citrine necklace in my bag. She watched me as I lied back down but I couldn’t care, knowing I’d have to tell her every detail later anyway. Jess practically ran to us, monopolising my towel once again and demanding to know what she had seen from across the beach.

“I mean not only was he completely eye-fucking you but who were all his friends?!” She practically screamed, I hit her shoulder lightly with my book for ‘eye-fucking’ as Bella blushed, but explained who the boys were.

“Oh, they’re coming over!” Jess said, elated with the drama unfolding right in front of her. My legs slid over Jess so she wouldn’t leave and who ever was coming wouldn’t stay, which thankfully she understood as she grabbed my legs lightly with a comforting rub.

“Can you believe the nerve of Embry?” I heard Jake yell as he was approaching us, Bella’s cheeks were as pink as Jess’ bikini. Jess’ jaw dropped as she ate up Quil and Jake’s physique, I watched her over my book, smirking as she stared at the long haired boys.

Quil called my name, and I looked up, with my head laid down I saw him as a giant, which made me laugh.

“What the fuck was he saying to you.” Quil demanded, staring at me.

“It’s over, don’t worry about it.” I said calmly.

“Don’t worry? He’s a fucked-up dude! Literally almost exploded on me, again!” he gave Jess context, that Paul had almost ‘attacked’ Quil in a convenience store a few weeks ago. She looked down at me in surprise. I still read my book.

“As hot as he is,” Jess said with Quil and Jake protesting as she ignored them, “no boy is worth it if he has anger like that.” She said with the older sister tone she normally used on her younger siblings. Quil and Jake agreed with her, but Bella stayed silent, I looked at her from the corner of my eye and saw her staring at the pavilion.

“Honestly, if you go back to him, I can’t be your fucking friend.” I caught Quil saying. I stood up so quick I dropped my book on the towel, loosing the page. Where did this come from? Bella, Jake and even Jess went quiet. Quil had snapped, he never snapped at me.

“First of all, that would be my decision, second, I wasn’t ‘with’ him in the first place and thirdly you don’t get to be so fucking rude to me.” I snapped, pointing a finger at his chest.

“He’s a bad fucking person and you know it.” His eyes stared into mine, harsh and true.

“You don’t know him how I know him.” I defended Paul, for some unknown reason. I didn’t even fully believe myself I was just so hurt with how Quil was acting everything was blurring out of anger.

“After everything he did, you’re defending him!” Quil yelled, desperation in his eyes, he was looking at me as if I was crazy, which I was beginning to feel.

“You don’t fucking care about me.” I yelled back. Storming away, grabbing only my bag and purse, leaving my book and towel. All but Quil yelled after me.

Opening the van, Mike was sat in the back struggling to get the sand of his feet. “Pass me my clothes.” I said, I couldn’t hear myself due to the anger raising and blurring everything, but I could tell I was being rude, Mike’s smile dropped into a worried expression as he gave me my clothes. I dressed in silence as he asked me if someone did something, like the protective older brother he always acted like. I shook my head, unable to fathom words that weren’t a string of swears. Did Quil really think that lowly of me? Did he think he could just give me an ultimatum like that, and I’d accept it? Fuck this and fuck him.

I told Mike I was going home and as he asked if I wanted a lift, I slammed the door of the van shut too hard and made my way to the back streets of first beach. I knew if I got to the centre of LaPush that I could find the bus stops I used to use when I’d hang out with Paul. Lead hit me over the head when I thought about him. I suddenly had an urge to sit by his side unlike the recent weeks where id sworn him off and cried and cried.

A truck pulled up beside me, old and worn I recognised it as Sam Uley’s. I looked over to see him sat in the driver’s seat looking at me.

“I’ll give you a ride.” He said, in a way I felt oddly comforted by as I got in. Normally, I would’ve told him to fuck off, but I felt way too emotional to walk the twenty minute walk to the centre of town. We sat in silence for ten minuets after I’d told him my address. I wanted to ask him about Paul, even about Emily and Leah but it didn’t feel right. This would be the fifth time I’d been near him let alone speak to him, so it just felt wrong. But he must’ve been thinking the same thing.

“It’s not Paul’s fault.”

“What?” I asked, looking at him. He was staring intensely into the road, it was weird, it felt like Sam was effortlessly the comforting older brother figure Mike had tried to be. Yet he seemed guilty like he’d made a mistake, not know but before.  

“I told him to stay away from you, it was my fault. He had no choice.” I decided to listen, to make sense of what he was saying. “There’s somethings you need to know, do you remember Emily?” I nodded, unable to speak in fear he’d stop speaking. “I’ll write her address down for you, visit any time and she’ll help you.” How cryptic could one person be.

“Why did Paul listen to you?” I questioned, staring at him. His dark brown hair was swooped back so he could see the road.

“He had no choice, you’ll understand.”

“I don’t understand anything.” He laughed.

“You will.” He pulled over and stopped driving, we’d reached my house. He pulled a notebook from the glove compartment. “Here’s her address and my number if you need a ride.”

“I can get Bella to drive me.”

“No, Bella can’t know about this, it doesn’t involve her. I’m sorry but you must trust me.”

“I tell Bella everything.” I said, taking the sheet of paper from him.

“But does she tell you everything?” he asked, his tone wasn’t accusatory like Quil’s had been, no, Sam asked me like he was genuinely worried about me. He was right, I knew Bella wasn’t telling me something. I couldn’t ask, hoping she’d finally tell me.

“I guess this means don’t tell Jake or… Quil.” He nodded, I got out of the truck, thanking him for the ride.

“You hike a lot, right?” It was my turn to nod. “Take a break for a while, with all those attacks it really isn’t safe.” I agreed, sadly, and went inside, after thanking him again for the ride. “Ever need a lift, just let me know, I’ll sort one out for you.”

I was glad it was summer break. All my free time had been spent on art: painting, sketching, and avoiding literally everything else. I’d been missing all of Bella’s calls and thankfully when she came over to my house I was working. Sam had been giving me lifts to work since I normally did a small hike there. I worked on the other side of Forks at a plant shop and nowhere near Bella. Whatever she was hiding from me had been eating away at me for a while. Summer break had also given me an escape from running into Jess, I loved her, but I had literally no answers for her. And the theories I had were so bat-shit crazy I had feeling no one would believe them.

Quil had called seventeen times. I couldn’t call him back, still angry at the way he spoke to me. Maybe he was right about Paul, but a small voice in the back of my head I’d nicknamed ‘stupid consciousness’ told me I should give Paul a fair chance and listen to Sam. Maybe it was some crazy mastermind ploy to pull down my defences, but id started to befriend Sam, and Emily as she’d joined him a few times to take me to work. I couldn’t figure out why they’d decided to help me out suddenly, but I decided to just go with it, I felt safer, loved and they never brought up Paul.

8:30am on a Tuesday morning I sat in the garden waiting for Sam. My headphones blasting Noah Kahan’s new album. It was chiller then it would be for this time of year, so a loose fleece hung around my body. We had another month of beautiful sun until the constant hood of clouds and rain returned to Forks. I had started worrying this morning that Sam driving me to and from work was an inconvenience, I hadn’t been insecure about this before, but it was daunting on me now. What if I was just pushing him out of his way and annoying him? Annoying Emily? I felt suddenly sick. But the truck in front of me pulled me out of the haze. Sam’s brotherly grin made me smile, my older brother was away at college, and I missed him. He opened my door form his side and I got in, the fear of inconvenience looming over me. Taking off my headphones I heard the soft folk music playing form the old truck. It was a twenty-minute drive to my work; we made nice conversation till Sam said something that struck me.

“Come to Ems tonight, I’ll finally explain it to you.” Weeks had passed since Sam initially asked me, it was clear I didn’t want to ask, so he’d decided to tell me. I nodded, silently looking out the window. Five minutes till we got there.

“Will he be there?”

“Yes.” He was short, sweet, and blunt. I knew I couldn’t hide from this, so I decided to ask what had been looming over me all morning.

“Why do you drive me? You work on the res; this is completely out of your way.” I still held my gaze out of the window. But I heard him grin as he told me.

“Well, I like your company, I always wanted a baby sister,” I scoffed at ‘baby’ which he caught and laughed, “plus it really is not safe if you walk to work, you walk through the bush, it isn’t safe.” His tone was serious at the end. I knew he was telling the truth. When we arrived, he looked over at me, smiling he passed me a brown bag. Holding back a laugh he told me “Em’s worried you aren’t eating enough”.

“She does know I’m an adult right?” I laughed, taking the bag.

“Well do you have any lunch today?” the silence from me made him laugh as I clearly did not, infact, have lunch. I threw a piece of card from the car door at him as I mumbled in protest.

“Pick me up at four?” I asked, putting the brown bag in my own. He nodded, as he drove away, I realised how long today was going to be.

I was right. So annoyingly, right. The day dragged, it felt that five hours had passed when in fact it was only two and I couldn’t even go for my lunch yet. If one more old lady asked me to point her in the direction of the roses, I was going to lose my mind. Not only was it weird that roses were extremely popular among old ladies but that they couldn’t see that the roses were at the front of the store, they were the first things you saw as you walked in.

At 1:25pm I heard a familiar gruff voice echo in the small shop. Charlie Swan. I was praying he was talking to a friend, or that there had been a horrible crime and the shop was under investigation. But as I heard a small, feminine voice I knew I wouldn’t have such luck. Of course, when I was working Chief Swan would decide to finally re-do his front garden. My lunch break was in five minutes if I could just hide here then my 60-year-old co-worker Henry would serve them. Henry was a true one, he’d help me in my hour of need. I hid behind the seeds, staring at Iris in its many forms as I heard Bella ask Henry if I was working too, I wasn’t sure if Henry and I had some super cool intuition or if he had genuinely forgotten I was working as he told her I wasn’t today. As I snuck away for my lunch break, I internally praised Henry for being the best co-worker that has ever lived.

Checking my phone, I noticed a missed call from Sam and a text.

“Can’t pick you up, Em is going to, she’ll be using her truck- its blue same make as Bella’s. Will be there when you arrive. Sorry.”

As weird as that was, I was just thankful I had a ride, I didn’t trust Henry behind the wheel.

The afternoon had passed quicker than the morning, the lunch Emily had made me was embarrassingly good and oddly comforting. As I finished my shift I gave Henry a fist bump, he laughed the way old people do, as a reflex showing that they’ve been laughing all their life. Emily’s blue truck pulled up; it had a better paint job then Sam’s but I had a feeling Sam worked on her truck more than his own.

“How was your day?” Em gleamed as I got into the car.

“Dull but the lunch was amazing, thank you.” I laughed as she grinned like a fool.

“I knew you’d like it! Paul told me you were vegetarian, and I’ve been dying to pull out those veggie cookbooks! The boys always avoid vegetables, it’s ridiculous!” she laughed as I wound the window down, warm air sifting through. My fleece cocooned in my bag form this morning, abandoned in the heat. I smiled, feeling warm at the casual mentioning of Paul. I’d assumed Sam’s business was something to do with work and that it wasn’t my business but at Em’s odd avoidance of it, something felt different.

I’d told her about Henry and Bella, talking more about Henry then Bella, Em laughed so hard she coughed. Pulling up to her house, I was shocked. It was beautiful. When we got out, I stared at the cabin, two stories and covered in flowers and plants. Wooden furniture, big windows, and open doors. It was beautiful. Em pulled me in, it was even more perfect inside. Bright colours and paintings everywhere. Sitting at a round, wooden table Em beckoned me to join her.

“Your home is… wow just amazing,” I was still looking at everything, the open kitchen and dining room was so homely and comforting. She smiled and grabbed my hand.

Emily was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen. The scar on her face to her arm didn’t change that. She was even more beautiful; she wore it proudly. When she smiled part of the scar creased at her eye. Her long black hair hung over her shoulders, bangs perfectly trimmed. My hair was almost as long as hers, but she had a few inches on me.

“How are you feeling?” her caring tone standing through.

“Nervous, I have no idea what is about to happen.”

She nodded, squeezing my hand. “I’ll be here the whole time, if you don’t want to be here at any moment just say and we’ll go, no questions asked.” She must’ve noticed the apprehension in my face. “Nothings going to hurt you, Sam and Paul have made sure of that.” I trusted her, more than I trusted the people I grew up with. I knew for certain there was something going on, that involved Paul and Sam, probably Jared and Embry too. Whatever it was I hoped it didn’t involve Quil and Jake too.

Voices came through the door behind us that led out to Emily’s extensive garden. Sam and Paul came in. Both shirtless and only wearing shorts. Which was weird but I guess they felt the heat more than Emily and I, Emily was wearing a stunning white sundress and I white pants and black shirt, my apron from work stuffed in my bag along side the fleece.

Paul looked at me, he looked horrible, dark bags under his eyes, and it looked as if he had to hold himself back from me. Not in a threatening way, not the relief in his eyes told me this was good, that I was safe. Sam rubbed my shoulder as he passed me to get to Emily. As they hugged and kissed, I saw Paul still watching me, turning back to him I saw the weight in his eyes.

“Are you joining us?” I asked him, an olive branch being thrown in his direction.

He took a moment to process what I asked then silently nodded and sat a chair away from me, which did hurt. But I ignored it and looked to Sam and Emily who had both sat back down. Emily’s hand was once again in mine, Paul looked with an odd… jealousy? Till his eyes trailed up my arm to my neck, where the necklace laid. I’d worn it every day since the beach that I didn’t even think about it anymore.

“So,” Sam started, “there are some things we have to tell you, but I think it’ll be easier if we show you then explain.” Emily’s head snapped to him as Pauls hung in shame. He smiled at her reassuringly and guided us all to the garden where Jared and Embry were talking. They both greeted me with a relaxed voice I was deeply confused as to what was going to happen.

Sam and Paul stood slightly in front of me, Emily’s grip tightened as she held onto my arm. Without warning Jared had… disappeared? And there was a wolf in his place. I looked in frozen shock to Embry who was grinning ear to ear and then his body contorted itself into another oversized wolf. Both started chasing each other and I couldn’t find it in myself to be scared. Instead, I found it hilarious, two boys had just turned into great big wolves, and I was worried about my friend not liking me anymore! All my problems felt so small as I watched them both. Emily pinched me, whipping my head to her in pain I asked her what’s wrong.

“What is wrong? What is wrong! They just shifted into wolves and you’re acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world!” She yelled, trying to grasp anything from me.

“Let’s go inside.” Sam said, leaving Embry and Jared to playfight in the garden. Emily dragged me in, I couldn’t stop watching them. Enamoured by how small it made my problems feel. Everything had been feeling so all-consuming as I experienced every little emotion, it was awesome to feel so insignificant.

“How familiar are you with the tribe’s history?” Sam asked, trying to read me as we sat back in Emily’s kitchen. I finally turned away from the wolves in the garden to face him.

It all hit me, everything Paul had told me growing up and Quil had been telling me before the beach. About the vampires, about the three bloodlines that became protectors. Quil was in that bloodline. So was Jake. Fuck.

“I know a fair bit.” I said. The next ten minutes were spent by Sam monologuing everything they knew so far but I could tell he was leaving something out. Something I knew that I knew. Paul or Quil must have mentioned it. After he had finished, I sat processing, knowing there was something else. The leaches. Was it just the one Sam had mentioned. Oh god. I dropped the glass of water I was holding, Paul caught it.

“The Cullen’s.” I breathed, looking at Sam and Paul in horror.

“You caught that quicker than I thought you would,” Sam laughed, “the treaty doesn’t allow us to tell people what they are.”

“I sat next to them in classes… Bella dated one!” silence. “She knew?” I was bewildered. She knew that Edward Cullen was an ancient old man murderer and dated him? What is wrong with her. I can’t judge her completely, as gross and weirdly necrophiliac as that is, I didn’t know her story. I’m glad Sam warned me that she wasn’t telling me everything.

“Does she know about you guys?” Sam shook his head.

“Only the people in this room, Jared and Embry and the tribe’s elders know. Its safer that way.” I nodded. Embry was 17. He must’ve been so scared.

Suddenly it hit me how cruel I’ve been to Paul; Sam had explained the gag order he’d put on Paul. Thinking about him, I knew there was something else, but I couldn’t help but just feel horrible for how I acted. The way I spoke about him to Quil, not meaning a single word but loving how good it made me feel. Without looking at him I let go of Emily’s hand and held his. He squeezed in and I could practically feel the smile radiating of him. I knew I shouldn’t feel too bad for how I acted; I didn’t know. But I wish I did. Sam explained lightly how his transformation was, how painful and terrified he was. I didn’t want to imagine a similar story leaving Paul’s mouth.

“I’m thankful you told me but why exactly are you telling me?” I asked, Paul stiffened, my thumb absent and idly ran circles around the back of hand as I stared at Sam. He shifted uneasily under my gaze. Which felt wrong, Sam was never uncomfortable. What was he avoiding? What am I forgetting?

A ring ran through the silent kitchen, and I dropped Paul’s hand to look at my phone. Jakes name read across the screen, which was weird. Jake never called me. He texted me when he was picking me up to come hang out and that was it. It’d been radio silence on both ends since I had that argument with Quil.

“Erm, I’m gonna get this.” I went outside to Emily’s front porch rather than the open garden.

“Jake?” I asked to the empty phone line.

“Hello?” He panted; his breaths disjointed.

“Jake what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, something-” he was cut of by a pained groan. “Somethings wrong.” He sounded like a child, one who couldn’t understand the pain of a broken arm or where a relative had gone and why they wouldn’t come back.

“Jake? Is Quil there?”

“No, I just got back from the movies with Bella.” He screamed again. Then began pleading with me. I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly two wolves ran past me into the Woodline, I turned back to see Sam telling Paul and Emily something as he shifted into the clearly biggest wolf.

“Listen to me okay. Deep breaths Jake, help is coming. You just gotta keep calm. Please, okay?” I asked, figuring out what was going on. Jake was shifting. I was panicking and felt like crying at his screams of pain.

“How are you feeling?” a pained yell was all I got in reply, Emily came to the porch behind me and put a hand to my back, ‘keep going’ she mouthed.

“Focus on- Bella! Think of her okay. Bella she’s going to be an anchor for you. Think about her okay. What shirt was she wearing today?” I asked keeping my voice as calm and steady as I could.

“She was wearing-” another scream through gritted teeth.

“Focus.”

“a green jacket, and a white blouse.” I heard crashing through the call, Sam’s voice, more screaming. I hung up the phone. This was too much. Too soon. Emily’s hand ran up and down my back, I was breathing heavily. I only found out about this an hour ago, how was this happening to Jake? Bella had once called him “earthbound sun” and now all I was hearing was his screams of pain playing on repeat.

“Everything will be okay.” She whispered, taking me upstairs into a bedroom. The walls were wooden, and the large bed was plush, and it smelt of lavender when I sat on it. Emily leant in front of me, both my hands in hers as we breathed together, she must’ve gone threw this a few times now. I couldn’t even pinpoint why I was so worried. The idea of Jake or any of them making a mistake and Paul getting hurt was eating me up. As my eyes fell into Emily’s and my breathing matched hers, I remembered the last bit of the story Paul told me years ago.

We were 15, sat cross legged on his lawn. I was making daisy chains as he told the legends to me. He blushed as he mentioned imprinting. The two souls who were destined to meet brought together by fate. How the shifter devotes themselves to their imprint even at the cost of themselves. At the time we both couldn’t comprehend the power of it, we thought it was ludicrous. And it was, a complete lack of agency. But in a selfish way, it was fantastical. My breathing was normal, and Emily sat next to me.

“Did Paul… did he imprint on me?” I asked quietly, scared if I said it any louder id be ridiculed. Emily didn’t say anything, she just squeezed my hands gently.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight? I have some spare pyjamas; I can wash your uniform for tomorrow.” She asked, eyes searching my own. Nodding I waited as she left the room. She told me to start getting changed as she left, stripping down to my underwear I became oddly aware of how insane this was, but I trusted Emily. And I knew now, I was safe. She came in holding a brown tank top and white shorts, they were so soft as I put them on. I was still dazed as the panic left my system; every movement was a cloud in my mind.

“Would you like to join me?” she asked, as I lifted my head up in confusion she continued “I’m going to watch a film, we can watch it together, if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” I replied, Emily put my clothes in the wash with some of her own and we got comfy on the sofa, I’d learnt the room with the lavender smelling bed was a guest room, and I was welcome to stay over whenever. Emily’s room was just down the hall. Her Gran had left her this house and she spent two years renovating it. She always made sure anyone was welcome here. I texted my parents to let them know I wouldn’t be home tonight, they told me to stay safe and call them if something is wrong. I was an adult, and I knew they liked knowing I was okay.

“Paul stays over most nights,” she said, braiding my hair, “but he sleeps on the couch. I can’t get him to take a room.” I was laying half on her chest half on her the sofa. I felt like a child. It was the most comforting experience of my life. We watched 2005 Pride and Prejudice. Laughing and swooning the whole time. We cried at the love in the film, the hand moments making us kick our feet, giggling. It was relaxing, to be with a friend. One that wasn’t hiding anything. I guess I would be the friend that was hiding something now to all my friends, to Jess, Bella, and Angela. But I couldn’t dwell on that. I told Emily about how I was feeling with Bella, and she told me about Leah, my stomach dropped when she told me Sam gave her that scar.

“I couldn’t be angry at him, what happened to him, to all the boys, it takes away their agency in emotional moments. I forgive him.” She told me, watching the film. Like this was second nature. Merely an afterthought. I knew I was safe here but was that just hysterics? Was I in danger and too naive to notice? No. Sam and Paul care for me. But Sam loves Emily? No. I reassure myself as I fall into a drowsy slumber as Emily ran her fingers through my hair. Sam can control it, so can Paul and Jared and Embry and Jake will be able to.

Warm arms lifted me, I felt the soft plush of the bed beneath me. I wanted to grab onto to the body holding me, my eyes wouldn’t open but I tried. A light chuckle sifted through the air as I finally let go.

A pink sunrise fell over me. I was drenched in the colours. Walking through the house I saw Paul, asleep on the sofa. The pink and purple began to fall onto him, he shifted awake as I made my way to the kitchen.

“Did I wake you?” I froze, looking at him through sleep festered eyes. He shook his head, smiling. We made coffee and cereal in silence, I the coffee and Paul the cereal. As we ate, I asked about Jake.

“He’s better now, the first shift is always the worst. What you did on the phone really helped.”

“All I did was keep him talking till you guys got there,” I said, finishing my cereal.

“He mentioned you called Bella an anchor, that helps more than you know.” He was looking at me intently. Suddenly I remembered my conversation with Emily last night.

“Paul…” Emily and Sam walked in, laughing with each other. I didn’t want to ask Paul with others around. He seemed brighter though, maybe he’d finally had a full night of sleep. Sleep, id fallen asleep with Emily on the couch and woken up in bed. Looking back at Paul, he was already watching me, waiting. “Did you take me to bed last night? You could’ve just woken me.” I laughed, trying to play off my feelings.

Sam laughed, sitting down with a coffee, “You were both sound asleep when we got back, no use waking you.” Emily looked at me, asking if id said anything, lightly shaking my head I pulled myself away from the conversation as they updated Emily on Jacob. From the window I saw the orange sun dance across the green summer leaves, sway through the crisp morning grass. The sun had risen by now, but the early morning was still prevalent in its colourful glory.

Sam called my name, pulling me out of my thoughts. “When do you start work?”

“9am,” I lied. Well, it wasn’t an actual lie, but I had decided I wasn’t going to go to work today, Henry had been telling me I need to take advantage of the paid sick days we get, so today I will. I need to process what the hell just happened. Alone. As much as I want to be here, I don’t know how much more I can handle. Sam had told us he hadn’t expected Jake to shift so soon and Quil’s grandfather has noticed he has a fever. It’s happening too fast and is still don’t really know why I am involved. Expect I do, which makes it so much worse. I would get dropped of at work, and then catch a bus to First Beach, which yes was counter intuitive, but it felt wrong to tell the people who immediately accepted me I didn’t want to be around them right now. I’d tell them id get a ride home from Henry and just walk back home. No, I shouldn’t walk. I promised Sam I wouldn’t walk. I’ll get the bus home or ask Bella as awkward as it might be.

Paul eyed me, brow furrowing. Sam and Emily didn’t notice but I couldn’t help feeling like Paul could read my mind. It feels weird being known so well. I sat with them for an hour or so before going to get a shower and then get dressed, Emily had layed my clothes on my bed while I was in the shower, and I suddenly felt insanely sick at the thought of lying to her.

Wandering back into the kitchen I saw Paul wearing worker pants that were just wow. I looked away before he caught my gaze. My heart beating in my throat.

“Where are you working?” I asked, he was looking for a job before all of this.

“Sam’s construction, he let Jared and I join after we shifted, he runs the business you know?” he said looking at my clothes. Wide legged white pants and black shirt, I was holding my apron, the ugly thing.

“Actually, Sam’s gone in early, so can I drive you to work?”

I nod, grabbing my bag and kissing Emily’s cheek goodbye as she started working on a wooden chair. Emily sold wooden furniture, I made sure to make note of that since my parents were looking at getting a new kitchen done. As we left, I noticed Sam had taken Emily’s truck and left his own for Paul. Fuckers had planned this.

“you’re a horrible liar, you know.” Paul said as we drove away from Emily’s. Is he psychic? “Sam told me you normally finish early on Wednesday’s, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. I finish at 12, i'll pick you up and explain everything.” I decided to play dumb.

“I thought you explained everything?” his laugh echoed in the car.

“We both know you’re too smart to think that.” The conversation ended, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not the same feeling as when Sam drove me, this was new.

“You can meet Henry when you pick me up.” I added, laughing at the thought.

“Who?” Paul said, the familiar jealousy peaking in his voice.

“Oh, he’s a real catch, total ladies’ man. I have a conspiracy that we’re psychically linked.” I said nonchalantly, absolutely doing it on purpose.

“That’s cool.” He said, sharply. These three hours were gonna go smoothly.

And they did. I was so excited for Paul to come pick me up I was practically jumping the whole three-hour shift. Henry had been side eyeing me all day, possibly worried I was on drugs or something.

“So, Paul’s going to pick me up and I’d like for you to meet him.” I told Henry as we stocked the shelves, or as I stocked them, and he micromanaged me.

“Eh okay.” He grumbled, I smiled, excited.

As 12 came I was practically glued to the window. Seeing Sam’s truck pull up my chest had a weight lifted off that I didn’t know was there. Pauls stocky figure walked up to the front door, and I beckoned him over to where I stood.

“Where’s this Henry then?” he asked, trying to seem calm.

“This way!” he must’ve been taken back by my excitement as he gasped slightly as I dragged him to the back of the store. “Henry! This is Paul.”

I watched as Pauls deflated face turned quickly into annoyance and relief as he saw Henry, who looked him up and down, grumbled and asked him if he could pick up some boxes for him. Paul agreed, but it didn’t feel like he had much choice in the matter. After ten minutes of Paul moving boxes around for Henry, I finally got him away, saying goodbye we left the store.

“You minx.” He laughed, opening my door for me.

Laughing I asked him what he was talking about.

“All morning. All morning! I spent worrying some hot bachelor called Henry had stolen your heart! Jared was getting annoyed at how pissy I was acting!” he whined, driving to LaPush.

We made it to first beach without Paul ripping my head off from annoyance. I tried not to dwell too hard on his blatant admission to his jealousy. But it made my head spin.

But he went silent as we walked to the rocks on the southside of the beach. Whatever he was about to tell me was very serious, and I was ready to hear. As we sat down, he looked at the necklace I was wearing, the citrine he bought me.

“You know when I bought you that necklace, I had no idea how beautiful it was.” He said, slowly looking up into my eyes.

“What do you mean? The lady handed it to you, I saw you look down at it.” I asked, searching his eyes for whatever he was trying to tell me.

“What do you remember about imprinting?” he asked, his hand lightly holding onto mine, the other splayed against the rocks. He took me off guard which must be visible on my face as he laughed at my expression.

“I remember you telling me about the imprint who saved the tribe from the vampires by sacrificing herself.” It was a harrowing tale, one that even as children Paul and I treaded on lightly.

“Uh huh, anything else?” he probed.

“I know how the elders described the imprint to feel.” At his silence I continued “that the universe centres around them,” I was whispering to him now, “that it is a love of the souls, bonded and combined.” He nodded.

“Anything else?”

“Paul why are you asking me this?” dread filled me, what if he had imprinted on someone else, I would respect it and understand but telling me like this had to be some form of torture. Deep down I knew that wasn’t the case.

“I imprinted on you.” My head whirled. Everything else became singular as I looked at Paul Lahote who became a multitude. “I was scared I’d imprint on someone else, and it’d be me loosing my agency in life you know,” I did, it was what I was worried about. “But I imprinted on you, at the beach. And I’ve always been in love with you. When we were kids and you would always climb the highest tree, never scared if you fell. When we’d braid each other’s hair. It’s always been you, even the fates agree.” The wind was knocked out of his lungs as I practically jumped onto him. My arms around his neck, his around my waist.

I pulled away. Remembering how this conversation started. “What did you mean, when you said you didn’t know how beautiful the necklace was?”

“That’s the other thing, turns out when we shift for the first time, we go colourblind.”

“What?”

“Wolves, they are naturally colourblind, Sam thinks that’s why we lose it, Jared and I used to think it was just another way the fates could steal life from us.” I listened intently. “That was until Sam imprinted on Emily. He said it was the most overwhelming experience of his life, not only because of the horrible family drama but because it was the first time in months, he had seen colour. We realised then that the only way we could see truly again was when we imprinted. You have to understand how terrifying it was after we’d first shifted, I thought I was dying” He took a deep, steadying breath. “After I first shifted you sent me a picture, do you remember?”

“Not really.” I admitted.

“It was of that cloud with the colours on it.” I nodded, remembering. It was a pileus cloud I’d seen in my back garden; he pulled out his phone. Scrolling sheepishly past the texts from him asking to talk to me and then texts from me, begging for an answer. He landed on a picture I sent, on the pileus cloud, they have colours sitting on them, rainbows laying on the soft clouds of the sky. Had I been taking my sight for granted? Spending my whole life gazing while he had it stolen from him?

“I cried for hours when you sent me this, I couldn’t see it, Sam had told me to cut off all contact with you and all I needed was you to- I don’t know- explain the colours to me since I couldn’t see them.” He breathed heavily; I could see the anger weighing on his shoulders once more. I didn’t interrupt him, just placed a hand on his thigh as an attempt to soothe. He smiled gently at this, still looking at the cloud. “It was two days after I’d shifted for the first time, and I was always so overwhelmed. I kept snapping and shifting in a fit of rage.”

As he waited for a response from me, I finally formed a semi-coherent sentence.

“I would’ve done the same. I can’t imagine how it- losing that- I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s those bloodsuckers.” He laughed. Smiling at me. We spoke for what felt like hours, it probably was but I didn’t mind. “I’m sorry to unload all of this onto you. I didn’t want to drag you into it, but you have to realise you call the shots, all you.”

“Is this why Sam didn’t pick me up yesterday?” I asked, remembering the hasty text Sam had sent me yesterday afternoon.

“Yeah,” he blushed, “I got angry at him, and he spent the whole day trying to convince me.”

“Couldn’t he just demand it?” the authority Sam had over the boys couldn’t be questioned, but it was a natural thing to him I felt it too.

“Yeah, but I know that he wanted me to make the choice, you’re my imprint after all.” He smiled, putting a hair behind my ear.

The sun had begun to set when Paul and I stopped talking, we’d spoke for hours. Catching up on each other’s lives, I told him about my fight with Quil and how I was feeling about Bella, and he listened. He told me about his dad, who’d decided to go work down south for a few months, leaving Paul the house to himself. That even though he gets the entire one-story building to himself he prefers to stay at Emily’s, he’d always hated being alone. He watched the sun set and I watched him. How it reflected on his clear skin, how his short hair was growing back. He’d explained that they’d all cut their hair after their first shift as to now only be practical but because they were grieving, grieving themselves. Paul was growing his hair again, determined to have a piece of himself back again, the hair length only mattered on the first few shifts. No one was sure why.

Going back to Sam’s truck I hold onto Paul’s hand, pulling him to a stop halfway across the beach. Getting closer to him I felt the warmth radiate from him, he couldn’t help but become the sun. The confused look on his face amused me, as I pulled him in and kissed him. His hand let go of mine as he wove his arms around my waist. My hands going to his back and his hair. He didn’t drive back to Emily’s. We spent the night in his house, the blue walls of his bedroom were known better than my own. Making out on his bed I sat on his lap, pulling his shirt of and then my own he grinned up at me.

“You’re so beautiful.” I didn’t say anything as I unhooked my bra, his jaw dropped slightly, and I blushed. He pulled his own jeans off and then switched our positions, so I was on my back as he took my white trousers of, discarding them somewhere in the room. I felt his lips on mine again which stopped me from staring at his well-defined chest, my hands felt him completely. I reached into his boxers as he whined slightly into my mouth at my slow and teasing actions.

“Don’t play with me.” He whispered into my ears as he ripped his boxers off, slowly taking my underwear off. As I felt him align himself, I looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but love.

Three weeks had passed since I found out about Paul’s imprint. Summer had begun to spread itself thinly and form into fall. I’d spoken to Quil, but he could tell I was hiding something. Especially since Jake had abandoned him without word and so did I. I knew he wanted to be apart of whatever was going on, but we all hoped he would never have to know, never feel the pain they all went through.

I spent most nights at Emily’s and some at Pauls but few and few at home. I wasn’t sure why my parents trusted my choices so much, but I figured they trusted Paul and I’d been a well-behaved teen. They did, however, begin to question why Bella Swan was constantly coming over asking for me. I couldn’t tell her. I still wasn’t over her not telling me anything. But Jake had ghosted her, just after I did. After the Cullen did. She had other friends, but it felt like a really shitty thing to do, I knew if I saw her, I’d just tell her everything. Even if she wouldn’t do the same for me.

I was at Emily’s when Embry, Jared, and Bella Swan herself came into the kitchen. She looked at me in shock and I gestured to the seat beside me, she shook her head. As Emily and I were informed on how Bella found herself in this predicament I laughed at the thought of Jake and Paul fighting, it didn’t surprise me. But I was shocked at Bella slapping him, she defended herself explaining she was angry and didn’t know we’d made up at this point. She didn’t know much. Jared told her that the pack was faster and better than the leaches, Bella seemed to feel more comfortable.

Sam, Jake, and Paul came into the house, Bella seemed to stow herself away in the corner. Her face went bright red after Paul apologised to her and kissed me, Sam complimented how well she took seeing two men turn into wolves in front of her and she laughed it off.

“How are you feeling?” Paul asked as I climbed into bed beside him.

“Tired, Bella gave me a hard time about me ignoring her, she’s right I guess.” Facing him in bed I tried to savour how the moon bounced off him. How he seemed to glow in the blue moonlight. He disagreed, but I knew Paul was biased he’d never really trusted Bella.

“What about Quil have you made up your mind on what you’re going to do?” He asked, kissing my nose as he pulled me to his chest.

“I’m going to go to his house tomorrow. I can’t tell him anything, but I need him to know I’m still his friend and I still love him. He’s one of my closest friends, his love is tough but its true you know?”

“I know.”

“How are you feeling?”

“everything’s getting calmer, but the red leech is still circling, these hikers need to learn to stay on the trail for their own sake.” He laughed; it wasn’t a happy laugh but an exhausted one. “Plus, Quil really might shift soon, I’m not sure how I feel about you going to see him in person.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Doesn’t make me worry any less.” He was holding me so close, our legs intertwined.

“He knows me better than anyone, which is scary but I won’t talk to him about the fight it doesn’t matter to me anymore. I can’t not have him in my life, it feels so good to be known so well. And not in the way you know me,” I clarified, “he knows me in a way that is tried and true, its not as intimate as how you know me, Quil challenges me, I challenge him. I can’t stand ignoring him.”

Paul nodded, he understood. He just hoped he didn’t shift in front of me.

“I love you.” He whispered into my hair.

“I love you more.” I whispered back, falling into a perfect sleep.

“Are you happy being with Paul?” Quil asked, grey hoodie swamping his tall figure.

“Yes.” I replied, arms crossed over my chest.

“I’m not surprised.” He sighed. Then, crossing the front room he looked out of his front window. “You really hurt me, you know.”

“I know.”

“And you can’t even tell me why!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You, Embry and Jake can’t tell me a single thing!” he yelled, still not looking at me. I had prepared for this, for him to hate me. I just didn’t expect it to feel so horrible.

“I’m sorry, Quil, I really am.” He looked at me, eyes desperate.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered. Tears in my eyes I ran to him, colliding with his chest we both cried on each other. “Remember we’re not keeping score, no arguments-”

“No winners.” I finished; we didn’t keep score.

As he pulled away, we both wiped at the tears streaming down our faces.

“Lahote? Really?” he laughed; I punched him in the arm. “Ow! Okay, okay.”

For now, everything was okay. I could handle okay.

pauls pinterest board

an:// i hoped you all loved reading this as much as i loved writing it! you can see why its taken me so long to actually write this :') Tumblr always gets rid of my paragraph spacing it kills me:( the word doc for this fic is 19 pages long! this is the longest fic i've written, im very proud of it!! requests are open, take care of yourself. i love you- em x

@ribbons-in-your-hair @notperfect-justme @thebestrouge [you guys asked me to tag you if i wrote anything about this headcannon! i hope you enjoy it!]

[chiefdirector]

Hostage Taking | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Act One | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

Content Warning under cut: Episode 3x05. Themes of Racism (Doug Stanton, at the end), bombing and other canon typical plights. Read at own risk.

“So when do you think you’ll be back from court?” (Y/N) asked, walking alongside Harper towards the evidence lockup.

“Eh,” Harper said. There was nothing Harper hated more than court duty, especially when the case was so clear cut that she didn’t need to be there. “Hopefully soon, that way I can enjoy having Nolan on front desk duty for the rest of the day. Let him enjoy the general public”

“Is he really that bad to ride with?” She stopped at the door.

“No, and that's what sucks. He’s too nice, and sometimes I don’t need all that positivity.”

(Y/N) just shook her head as Nyla just winked at her as she entered the evidence room. Turning on her heel, (Y/N) passed Lopez as she wandered back to her desk, trying to figure out what to do with her day. Most of her cases were closed, the Damian Barrett case had all but run dry and Grey had all but forbidden her from working on her own case alone, despite how much she wanted too.

Sitting down, she gathered all of the papers on her desk, stacking them neatly, before organising them alphabetically, and then chronologically. Next on her hit list was the pen pot. Grabbing the container, she tipped them out, testing them one by one on a loose post-it.

She had only just opened the chess on her computer when the radio belonging to the blonde officer who worked opposite her rang out. “Sargent Grey, this is officer Nolan, go to channel nine.”

(Y/N) stifled her laugh as she moved her pawn two spaces, of course it was Nolan she thought. Even in her short time back in the precinct, Nolan’s reputation had been shared with her. Her good humour was cut short as the rest of the conversation rang out through the handset.

Grey replied quickly “Nolan this better be important”

“Sure is buddy” An unknown voice rang out. (Y/N) closed the chess game as she began to listen more intently.

“Who’s this”

The stranger’s voice rang out again. “The guy sitting in your parking lot with an ammonium-nitrate fertiliser bomb.”

Without hesitation, (Y/N) rushed up from her seat and made her was over to where she could see Nyla and Grey looking down at the radio, officers silently surrounding them, all listening to the bomber

As she got closer, she could hear the stranger’s voice again. “I have cameras on every exit. Do you understand me? If anyone leaves, everyone dies”

“I can confirm the cameras, sir.” Nolan’s distant voice chimed in, “Our bomber has a dead man's switch, sir.”

“Okay,” Grey said, voice solemn and serious, “You have my attention. Tell me what i can do for you.”

“Rectify an extreme miscarriage of justice. I demand the immediate release of Donalf Feltt from the Primedale Department of Corrections.”

(Y/N) moved to the computer near her, typing in the given name as Harper moved beside her. His record showed immediately. Donald Feltt, ID no: 4076696, sentenced to life without parole on multiple charges: Possession of an illegal substance, undocumented concealed firearms, animal abuse, drug trafficking, battery, and murder.

Grey tensed his shoulders as he read the screen out loud to the bomber, trying to confirm that they were both on the same page.

“That's him,” The man confirmed, “and it’s not going to be a back-door parole for my boy. Feltt walks out of there today.”

“Back-door parole?” (Y/N) asked, looking up from the screen

“For when you die in prison,” Harper replied. “Our bomber’s done time.”

“Most likely with Feltt,” Grey lifted his radio up again, “All right. That’s a big ask. It’ll take time.” He lowered the radio and looked to Harper, “We need someone on the outside.”

“I’ll call Lopez, she left already.”

Grey nodded his head, raising the radio again, now on the general channel to alert the units, both in and out of the precinct of the tactical lockdown and what to do. Once he was done, he turned to face (Y/N). “You should go down with everyone else to the parking garage, you’ll be safe there.”

“Like Hell I am, now what do you need me to do?”

----------

“It’s morse code.” Grey said, looking at the camera feed pointed towards the brown van, (Y/N) moved to get a dictionary, only to be stopped by the Sargent raising his hand. “S-C-R-L-I”

“He has a scar?”

“On his left eye. Good man, Nolan.”

“So,” (Y/N) said, opening the laptop she had bought over, typing as she spoke. “If we assume he did time with Felt. We know that he is a white male with a scar on his left eye.” Pressing enter, she quickly read the results aloud. “Graham Porter. He did three years at Primedale, a couple of misdemeanours prior. Nothing that screams mad bomber.”

“How does a guy like this get on with a guy like Feltt?”

“Let’s hope Lopez can find out,” Harper said, returning from the parking garage.

----------

“So Graham Porter is in desperate need of money?” Nyla asked as she regrouped with Grey again, this time joined by Chen and both Bradfords.

“So why not demand a ransom?” Grey responded “Why give us a head fake on Feltt”

Chen stepped forward. “Maybe it’s not a head fake. Maybe Feltt’s paying Graham to bust him out of prison.”

“Feltt’s a murderer, not a cash-heavy narcos.” (Y/N) said, looking over to Tim, allowing him to finish her statement off.

“If this Feltt’s gambit is smoke, we’re chasing our tails trying to free him. Meanwhile, an accomplice robs a bank or something.”

Grey considered the next step for a moment. “Contact West and Stanton, have them check out a nearby check cash-in place. I’ll contact the chief to see if we can get more boots on the ground.”

Nyla nodded, going off to make the call, leaving Tim, Lucy and (Y/N). The three stood in silence for a moment before (Y/N) turned to her laptop again.

“What are you doing?” Tim asked, looking over his wife's shoulder.

“Googling him.”

----------

It didn’t take long for Grey and Harper to find their way back to the other three. There wasn’t much luck on either end, apparently everything was “Code Four” with Stanton and West, and the rest of the LAPD was spread thin by having an entire precinct down so that not many more men could be spared.

“We found something.” (Y/N) crossed her arms. “I ran his name through the web. He had a YouFundMe, set up by his girlfriend, Kelsey Adams. I asked Lopez to run her down, there was nobody there, no cell answer either.”

Tim moved to stand near (Y/N), disliking this whole situation. “This whole thing is weird. Kelsey is using an assumed identity. Her social security numbers are fake. No record No picture.”

“According to Lopez, Kelsey and Graham are inseparable. So she is likely involved.”

“But how?” Harer asked, If it's not about money or Feltt…”

They sat in silence, contemplating Nyla’s question. (Y/N) uncrossed her arms, letting her hands fall down and began to play with her ring.

Lucy was the one to break the silence. “What if this is all a distraction meant to pull our focus outside the station, when we should really be looking inside?”

“What kind of woman would be crazy to be inside a building ith her boyfriend parked outside with a truck full of explosives?”

Tim rolled his eyes at Nyla’s question, before sending an incredulous look towards Lucy. The two of them had a silent conversation before taking off towards the parking garage, leaving the three officers with the words “Freegan Frida.”

As the pair left, Grey looked at the two detectives. “What the Hell is a ‘freegan?’”

----------

(Y/N) and Nyla moved through the corridors with their guns raised, silently sweeping each room for Adams. Tim had alerted them of the woman’s presence when she had left the garage, leaving the other’s trapped. Grey had taken one half of the building, whilst the detectives took the other. The two had found nothing until they approached the evidence room, finding the door broken.

On Nyla’s silent command, (Y/N) entered the evidence room, looking around for the suspect whilst she called Grey, alerting him of the situation and that a search was underway. As Harper spoke, (Y/N) moved through the evidence locker, looking down the aisle. It only took moments for her to find Kesey, rummaging through a secure bio-evidence bag.

“Hands up.” she commanded, “Don’t move.”

“Please, I have to find it,” the woman begged.

Harper approached from behind. “Find what?”

“He thinks I’m dead, If they run my prints…”

“Are you trying to destroy evidence?” Harper asked, moving closer to Kelsey.

“No,” Kelsey exclaimed, panic and desperation clear in her voice. “It’s my husband. He’s a loan shark in El Paso. He hurt me. I ran away three years ago, got a new identity, the works. So he would never find me. Then there was a robbery where I work. The cops took a bunch of stuff, things with my prints.”

“So when they run the prints, they will get a hit on the real you.” (Y/N) stated. The tree women stood in silence for a moment before (Y/N) continued speaking. “Look, we will try and help you but you need to get Graham to stand down.”

----------

(Y/N) listened to Grey speak to Graham as he told him to stand-down. That he knew what their plan was, that Kelsey had told him that the bomb was fake. That he was going back to prison for a long time. She also listened in as Graham demanded the S.W.A.T team back off, and when he threatened Nolan’s life if they didn’t.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and that grew at the threat. She hated this whole situation. She hated that it was Nolan that was trapped, she hated how the entire precinct was shut down because of this madman, she hated how there was nothing that she could do to help Nolan. She hated it all.

She only began to feel marginally better when she heard Nolan’s voice ring out on the radio. “Sargent Grey, this is Nolan. One is custody. We’re code four.”

Although, hearing the click ring out afterwards reassured her somewhat.

----------

“Oh God, what happened earlier?” (Y/N) said, curling up on the sofa as Tim grabbed two beers from the fridge before joining her.

“Stanton let Jackson get assaulted. Bastard did nothing.”

“Is Jackson okay?”

“He was taken to the hospital. Bruised and beaten but nothing he can’t recover from. Physically anyway.” Tim moved to wrap his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, pulling her into his chest. “Stanton is on administrative leave. Grey took his gun and badge.”

“What happens now?”

“This will be the end of Stanton, I don’t see him coming back from this.”

(Y/N) nodded, processing the information. “We should go see him tomorrow. See how he’s doing, if he needs anything.”

Tim just hummed in agreement, moving to place a kiss on the side of (Y/N)’s head.

Act One | Chapter 19 | Chapter 21

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath @agentred27 @hufflepuffwhore13 @tessalynni @anaferreira-4

Tags are open :)

[thegreatestjournalistofalltime]

Trust & Conflict (closed to @corxner )

(please note that the victims' names in this post—or future posts in this thread—were all totally made up and used to add some depth to the story. any similarities to a person, or the name of a person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. this applies to any further names made up for the fictional victims in this story. also, please be aware that this thread contains dark themes, which will be tagged for anyone who may need it.)

A librarian by the name of Janice Berr had been brutally murdered going home from work one night. Someone had punctured a hole in her fuel tank, it seemed, and followed her. She was found in the woods, near where her car was left with the front, driver's side door and trunk wide open. Judging by how many times she had been stabbed, and the state the wounds left her in, it was determined to be a crime of passion.

Maybe a former lover? Maybe someone had an axe to grind? However, there were no leads. Everyone seemed to like her, and any potential suspects had airtight alibies.

Freddie had heard about the case, of course, but these sorts of things happen all the time, unfortunately. It didn't quite fall into her purview.

When Faye Riche, a counselor, turned up in much the same way (except in her own home), that was when Freddie looked into it a little deeper. There were similar markings left by the murder weapon in each case. Both victims were women. Both murdered at night, seemingly in a rage. It had seemed a pattern was emerging.

That was until a new body was discovered in an abandoned parking lot. All Freddie knows is the address, where she is driving to now, and that the victim is a man with the same markings left by what seems to be the same knife. She has the heat on. The night is cold and her drive is a silent one.

When she arrives, she can see that the usual lot are there already. Jack Crawford stands a short distance away from the body, speaking to a local detective. Will Graham stands, seemingly in a trance, putting himself in the shoes of the killer. On the ground, she can barely see the body with the CSI team blocking her view as they carry out their work. She recognizes almost all of them—Beverly Katz, Jimmy Price, and, of course, Brian Zeller—but the fourth… She's never seen him before. He seems younger than the others, and she takes note that Will walks directly over to him after speaking with Crawford about whatever he just imagined.

Meanwhile, over at the crime scene…

Crawford walks over to his team at the body. "What do we know?" he asks.

Price is the only one of the four standing. He holds the victim's wallet in his hands, looking through its contents.

"Carl Getty," he answers, looking at the man's driver's license, "forty years old, and judging by the ID card I found, he works at one of the local high schools in the area."

"He's got some scraping on his hands, and there are little pieces of gravel in the cuts," Zeller says, holding Getty's palms up for Crawford to see.

"The gravel seems consistent with the paving in this lot," Katz adds, "and he has a laceration on the back of his head. He was struck from behind."

Will had been taking it all in, but when they finish, it's he that turns to the only one that hasn't spoken yet.

"What did you find, Faust?" he asks softly, encouragingly.

However, before an answer could be given, Zeller interrupts, saying, "Shit… Freddie Lounds is here. How did she find out so fast?"

Will looks up towards the direction of the barricades and sees her. He begins walking over to her and, sensing that there might be an issue, Beverly follows after him.

With someone looking after Will, Crawford turns his attention back to Faust.

"Yes, what did you find?"

[draw-back-your-bow]

Get Out of Jail Free Card | E-1 L.L

My Masterlist | Request Guidelines | Send a Request

Pairing: Earth-1 Laurel Lance x fem!reader:

Request: “That is so great! You’re duch a good writer. I wanted to know if you could do one about Laurel Lance (the original).” … “My idea was that the reader had gotten in trouble and ended up at the police station being interrogated by Quentin and then Laurel comes to save the day. And the romance grew from that. It would be in season 1. Thanks 😊” | Requested by @ riqui_ly_love (On Wattpad)

A/N: Sorry for not making a Christmas or holiday themed fic, I just forgot and by the time I remembered… it was too late. So maybe next year :) For once, I am very confident in the characterization for the characters in this fic, which is uncharacteristic of me but a nice feeling nevertheless.

Summary: After being falsely accused of a crime, your girlfriend takes it upon yourself to be your lawyer.

Warnings: Curse word

Word Count: ~1.8k

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Finishing up your work for the day, you sighed in relief at finally being free for the weekend. Stretched your arms whilst rising from your seat, your work phone went off with another dreadful ring.

Your shoulders sunk as you threw your head back, groaning at the interruption. Narrowing your eyes at the device, you nevertheless answered the call, not bothering to check the caller ID, figuring it was one of your co-workers who was unfortunate enough to still be working at six p.m. on a Friday.

“What?” you answered, annoyed.

However your unpleasant mood drastically improved upon hearing the voice on the other end.

“Now that’s no way to speak to the kind woman about to treat you to a lavish dinner.”

“Laurel?!” you gasped, checking the phone number to confirm it was actually her. “Oh my god, I thought you were someone else!”

You heard her chuckle from the other end, “Jane from accounting I presume?”

You grabbed your stuff and made your way out of your office with a pleasant smile resting on your face. Nodding, despite her being unable to see you, you complained, “Those nutjobs have been blowing up my phone all week.”

“It sounds like this dinner is much needed and well deserved.”

“That’s assuming they won’t flag me down on my way out.”

“Well if they do, tell them your girlfriend’s a lawyer.”

Just as you were scrummaging through your purse for your car keys, you paused, “Girlfriend? I thought I was still your ‘good friend.’”

You could almost hear her shrug through the phone, “I figured that with everything already being complicated with Oliver and my dad, we could be the only uncomplicated thing in our lives.”

“Uh, yeah… uncomplicated. I can do that,” you sputtered, climbing into your car.

“But we can talk about it more over dinner!” Laurel insisted.

“Yeah, yeah,” you agreed. “But I like that- you, I mean. Or well, I like me… being your girlfriend. And vice versa of course!”

Hearing the lawyer giggle through the phone, your shoulders relaxed at the indication that you didn’t mess up too badly.

“I’ll see you at dinner?” you offered, ending the conversation.

Catching her breath, Laurel confirmed, “I’ll see you then.”

With a click, the call ended and you laid your head on the steering wheel. Grinning at everything that just happened, you gathered yourself before starting your car and heading towards the restaurant.

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Pulling into the parking lot, you exited your car and you saw Laurel doing the same across the lot. Waving your hands to get her attention, she saw you and went to meet you halfway.

However before you could take another step, red and blue flashing lights caught your attention as Laurel’s father stepped out of the police car.

Raising your hand to greet him, you furrowed your eyebrows when he spoke your name before folding your arms behind your back.

“Dad?” Laurel asked, equally confused, “What are you doing?”

“Detective Lance… wait,” you stuttered, not understanding what you did.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used-” drowning out the rest of his words, you felt your heart beating in your ears as he ushered you to the back of his vehicle.

“You have the right to an attorney,” he droned on, and you made eye contact with Laurel.

Calling out your name Laurel tried to get to you, however her dad’s partner held her back. Letting your eyes wander past her, you ducked your head to avoid being recognized from the few onlookers outside of the restaurant.

“Don’t say anything!” Laurel’s voice yelled, “I’ll be at the station soon but don’t say anything!”

You nodded at her words as the door was closed, at least letting her know you heard her. Looking ahead, Quentin and his partner sat inside the car and you looked at him through the rear-view mirror.

Only being met with his stone cold gaze, you recognized the look on his face as the same one he was wearing when he arrested Oliver in his own home.

Slumping down in your seat, you could only exhale the breath you were holding and hope that Laurel at least would know what was happening, because you had no clue.

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Mindlessly tapping your nails on the metal table, you tried not to focus on the restraints around your wrists, pinching your skin in between the steel.

Instead, you scanned the room, taking in as much as you could despite the fluorescent lights concentrated on your face. Looking at the mirrored wall, you awkwardly smiled at the one way glass.

Just as you were huffing in boredom, the door behind you flew open, making you jump in your seat at the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry for the wait,” Quentin sarcastically remarked, “I had to figure out why everyone my daughter knows is some sort of criminal.”

You sighed in exasperation at his accusation, “Detective, there must be some sort of misunderstanding. I’m not sure what you think I did, but I can assure you that I didn’t.”

Slamming files down on the table, he scoffed, “You know, Queen tried to pull that exact same shtick. You two trading notes or something?”

“Oliver’s innocent,” you huffed, now becoming frustrated at his unwillingness to bargain. “And so am I.”

“I’ll tell you what,” he began, pulling up a chair to sit down in front of you, “You confess to embezzling the money, and I’ll get the DA to cut you a deal.”

You rolled your eyes, “What money, Quentin? I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He huffed, rising from his seat and running his hand through his hair. “I should have known. You aren’t Queen or Merlyn, how else could you afford to take Laurel out to all those fancy places.”

“Um, I’m an accountant… for one of the most prestigious companies on the west coast. What are you even talking about?” you asked again, only becoming increasingly confused.

He dryly chuckled, “The twelve million dollars mysteriously missing from your company, found in a Corto Maltesan bank account linked to you!”

Your shoulders dropped at his claim, not knowing how something you had no idea about is suddenly your fault. But you did know the prison sentence that could come with the charge. And compared to that, the disapproval of your girlfriend’s father would be the least of your worries.

Before you could argue your case, the door once again slammed open and you quickly turned your neck to see who it was, hoping they would be on your side.

Much to your relief, Laurel had come through the door holding papers of her own that knowing her, would prove your innocence.

“Laurel-” Quentin started before being cut off.

“Release my client,” Laurel demanded, handing him her files.

The detective mockingly laughed, “Honey, I know you and her have something going on, but there's damning evidence that proves-”

Once again interrupting her father, Laurel spoke, “And those papers will prove otherwise. She was framed by her co-worker. The person you’re looking for is Daniel King, not her.”

Letting your eyes bounce between the lawyer and the officer as if you were watching a tennis match, your eyes were now on the older Lance as your breath stalled for his decision.

With an incredulous expression on his face, Quentin flipped through the files, realization dawning on his face.

Appearing in the doorway, his partner spoke up, “Lance, we have to let her go.”

Looking back at you, Quentin ran his hand through his hair one last time before gesturing towards your restraints, signaling for his partner to release you.

With the click of the handcuffs being unlocked, you immediately went to massage your wrists, hoping to ease the sting from the tight bonds.

Laurel came to your side, helping you up from the chair you had been stiffly sitting in. The detective opened his mouth to apologize, but your girlfriend only glared at him, causing him to rethink speaking.

With a curt nod, you exited the interrogation room with Laurel. Once outside the station, you sighed, leaning against the brick building.

“Hey,” Laurel comforted, one hand on your shoulder, “It’s over now, you're not being charged with anything.”

Meeting her eyes, you leaned into her touch, “Thank you… for being there for me.”

“Of course. I know you, and you could never do something like that.”

“Your dad is just waiting for one of us to slip up, isn’t he,” you dryly chuckled, referring to yourself, Oliver and Tommy.

Shifting her gaze away from you, Laurel huffed, “Yep… he’s unfortunately always been like that.”

You shrugged, lifting yourself off the wall and absentmindedly kicking the gravel at your feet. “Anyways, let's not think about your father anymore.”

Looping your arm in hers, you both started walking and Laurel smiled, “That sounds like an amazing idea. Where were we before all this?”

“Umm,” you hummed, “I believe Ms. Lance, you were treating me to a five-star dinner and asking me to be your girlfriend.”

Opening the passenger door of her car, Laurel ushered you into the seat before pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I can definitely do that,” she mused, closing the door and going around to the driver's seat.

Grinning to yourself, you watched as she sat into the car and laid her hand on the arm rest. Taking her hand in yours, you gently squeezed her hand and she glanced at you, her face mirroring your joyful expression.

Leaning your head against the seat, you let a smile rest on your face as you calmed your heart after the previous events. After everything that happened you at least knew that even if the cards were stacked against you, you still had one that would always be in your deck.

▣▣▣▣▣ Thanks For Reading! ▣▣▣▣▣

[amaya-chwan]

Takeaways from Therapy Game: Restart Chapter 11

Oh gosh, hello everyone! Thank you for being so patient with this chapter’s takeaways! I was really busy at work since I took on a new position, and then I was so engrossed in reading a super long novel (read: TGCF and that amazingness that is HuaLian) that it just took up a lot of my time the past couple of weeks! 😭❤️💛

I hope you are all well! This chapter was actually a nice little break from the drama themes we’d been used to reading, so let’s get to it!

Our takeaways for this chapter include:

Late night date at the communal bathhouse!! ✅😏😍

Honestly, Shizuma and Minato’s communication with each other is really goals! Such a healthy relationship! 🥰

Minato has really grown more and more over the course of TGR so far, I am living for it! Proud of you, bb! 😭❤️💛 

Almost NFSW scene 🔞 at the bathhouse has got me CACKLING! 🤣 Ngl, I love the tender moments they have before the NSFW begins, and this, my dear readers, is a lot of tender, wholesome, loving moments!

Ngl, Shizuma with slicked back hair is divine! 😍

GOOD GAWD THEIR REACTION when ^*^ 🤣

The ending of this chapter just 👀

I SWEAR, EVERY DANG TIME, THESE DORKS ARE TOO ADORABLE FOR THEIR OWN GOOD! 🤣😍🥰❤️💛

And that’s it for this chapter’s takeaways! For a more detailed breakdown/summary of this chapter--and if you want to know what the ^*^ is--please continue after the cut! As always, I promise there are a few surprises in this summary!  😉✨

The cover page for this chapter has Minato crouching down with an umbrella in hand, with the caption: You came to see me. Just that act alone, warms me up from the heart (outwards).

The opening panel brings us to a public bathhouse, where some elderly gentlemen are blushingly staring at Minato who is currently rinsing himself off before he heads to the communal bath and says “This feels great...”

The gentlemen make commentary in the background, saying “It’s rare to see the youth here~”, “Does that youth have white* hair? (*in this case, probably platinum blond)”, “It’s bleached, BLEACHED!”, “My grandchild bleaches their hair too!”

Shizuma can obviously hear them, and he awkwardly thinks to himself that he and MInato are being stared at. Shizuma then thinks that Minato doesn’t really have an impression of what being at a public bathhouse is like since he is really carefree while rinsing. Minato takes a peek at Shizuma, and Shizuma smirks back. Minato grabs the back of this neck in an almost “I’m feeling a little awkward/shy” fashion.

Flashback: We return on the scene from last chapter (so probably timeline-wise, less than an hour or two beforehand), where Minato and Shizuma are together under the umbrella in the rain. Minato sneezes and is starting to feel the coldness in the air. Shizuma worriedly asks if he is okay and suggests taking Minato home first. Looking slightly dejected, Minato asks if they’re really going home now, to which Shizuma responds by saying “Of course we are. Your clothes are drenched. If you stay like this any longer, you really will catch a cold.”

Minato has a lightbulb moment and suggests going to the public bathhouse. The condition of entry for the bath house is that those who have a tattoo might be asked to present some form of ID and that the bathhouse owners have the right to refuse entry. Minato asks the elderly reception lady if she needs to see his ID, showing her his snake tattoo on his ankle. She laughs, saying that there’s nothing to worry about if his tattoo is just that “earthworm” (she doesn’t see it as a snake). She’s more concerned that he is drenched and tells him to take his wet clothes off and use the dryer, and to warm himself up in the bath by submerging his whole body up to his shoulders! Shizuma looks on lovingly on the side.

Back to the present time. Minato sits down next to Shizuma in the bath, getting used to the temperature of the water and starts to relax. Shizuma looks over and seems to think Minato won’t catch that cold anymore. He recalls what Minato said to him and how he wasn’t able to hear it due to the rain, and wonders what Minato could be hiding from him. Minato picks up on Shizuma’s staring and proceeds to tell him that he’d also feel uncomfortable with being constantly stared at by Shizuma. Shizuma then apologises to him, thinking that they haven’t been able to look at each other face-on since arriving at the bathhouse. He deduces that it’s because he failed to make it for their house tour appointment, so of course Minato should be angry.

Minato, without knowing what’s going on in Shizuma’s mind, blurts aloud that his body has grown stiff from sitting around all day and didn’t know whether to go home or not due to Shizuma’s lack of messages. Looking upset, Shizuma tells Minato that there was an emergency situation that occured right before he was leaving, and while he was able to help with the situation, he could not make the time to message Minato. He apologises again since Minato was looking forward to it.

Minato says it’s fine already, that Shizuma has been doing nothing but apologise lately. Shizuma agrees, saying that that’s all he’s being doing lately and he’s no good as a boyfriend. Minato, crouching over the side of the bath railing, says to Shizuma that that’s not what he wanted him to say, and that Shizuma hasn’t done anything wrong at all.

Flashback again: Minato is hastily walking towards Shizuma’s car, angry that Shizuma hasn’t messaged him at all and that since that dream he had at the cafe, he hasn’t been able to stop worrying about him. When he sees Shizuma’s car, he realises he must still be at the hospital and thinks he might be doing random odd-jobs again, or worse, he might be getting all friendly with the nurses. And if so, Minato won’t speak to him for a couple of days.

Minato then notices the two women walking out of the clinic in tears so he hides behind the car. While they talk about Hana-chan and how professional and personable Shizuma is as a resident vet, Minato eavesdrops and blames them for Shizuma staying back late. But the more he listens to the women being thankful everything went okay and Shizuma assuaged their fears, he is reminded how great of a vet Shizuma is.

Back to the present. Minato tells Shizuma he saw the two women and understands why he missed the appointment. He once told Shizuma to be a great vet (re: see side story in TG) while he himself realised he wasn’t ready for what that meant for Shizuma’s personal life. Minato then tells Shizuma that he’s helping all these people without him (Minato) knowing about it, that he’s falling in love with Shizuma all over again even though he’s been stood up on a date, and that he is (jokingly, I assume) annoyed by this feeling. Blushing, Minato looks over at a stunned Shizuma.

Having said all that, Minato pats Shizuma on the head, telling him he’s done well! Shizuma is still silent and stunned, and Minato gets a little flustered with the lack of response, almost as if Shizuma was coaxing those words from Minato. Shizuma says that while he’s happy that the puppies are okay and he was able to reassure the owners, Minato’s words just then made him feel the happiest all day, and flashes a really darling smile! Shizuma thanks him.

The elderly gentlemen begin to walk out, noticing Shizuma is grinning from ear to ear. They make small talk, and the gentlemen tell Shizuma to warm up!

Minato is also taken aback with the happiness overflowing from Shizuma’s expression. Shizuma notices Minato in a little bit of a daze and comes up close to him. When asked if he is having a hot flash, Minato pushes Shizuma away, saying he’s too close. Seeing the lack of people, Shizuma says they’re the only ones in the baths right now. Blushing again, Minato asks Shizuma if he’d like to be rewarded for working hard, to which Shizuma happily responds with “I wanna do it!” Minato agrees, reminding Shizuma to mind his manners since it’s a communal bath.

Things get a bit steamy between Shizuma and Minato, with Minato thinking he’s seen more of the adorable side of Shizuma today. They exchange words of arousal while Shizuma kisses and touches Minato all over.

Minato then teases Shizuma by calling him a “bad” vet. Just as they get more and more into it, one more guy comes out of the bath next to them, rinses his body and leaves, just like that. Both stunned at the thought that someone was there, they laugh! (^*^ moment)

Shizuma and Minato are now walking along the street, looking at the star-filled night sky. Shizuma says he was really looking forward to the house tour, but Minato says it’s okay since their house tour date became a bathhouse date. Being all pouty and cute, Minato asks Shizuma: “Well, either one of these dates would’ve been fine as long as we’re together, right?”

Shizuma grabs his heart, asking what’s up with Minato for him to be so adorable today. Minato says he’s assumed the role of an adorable person so that they can have a heated and passionate round of lovemaking when they get home, which Shizuma finds quite sly.

Shizuma once again asks Minato about what he said in the car park, reminding him that he doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to. Minato says it’s nothing for Shizuma to worry about, that he’s not enduring it out of pride or anything. Remembering Shizuma’s joyful face when he told him those words of encouragement, Minato says: “(Inner monologue) Putting my feelings into words, those nightmares that I’ve grown tired of, and my anxieties, (aloud) with just your stupidly adorable smiling face, you blow away all the unpleasantness and dislikes I have. So Shizuma-kun, smile.” Shizuma shoots him a smile and understands what he’s saying, and Minato responds with “Hn, good boy.”

Still walking to Shizuma’s car, Minato reminds Shizuma not to show his adorable smiling face to anyone else. Shizuma awkwardly smiles and says he doesn’t, wondering where Minato got this idea from. They continue to talk about the bathhouse and how nice it was that the receptionist let Minato use the dryer. Shizuma then remembers he left his boxers to dry in the staff room at the hospital!

He stops by the hospital with Minato, who has no idea why he’s had to go back to the hospital right now. He assures Minato that it isn’t anything big, but is actually freaking out on the inside, afraid another staff member might see it (and yes, Onodera did see it in a previous panel). He leaves Minato in the car and runs over to collect his boxers. Minato smirks while seeing Shizuma knocking on the door to gain entry, but is slightly taken aback when he sees that the person who opens the door is Shizuma’s director, a woman.

And that’s it for this chapter! Everything was going so smoothly in this chapter, with all the tender moments, then BAM! Hinohara-sensei just had to end the chapter like that! Stay strong, Minato! It isn’t what you might think it is! 😭

Also, I shall check for typos and grammar tomorrow since Tumblr has failed me more than half a dozen times and I lost my post each time. RIP to me and my sleeping pattern haha! 😭

Again, THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FAR! 💜 📢  As always, please support Hinohara-sensei by purchasing her books and CDs! 📢

The next chapter will be in the next issue of Dear+ that will be coming out on the 13th of February (later this week)! Hopefully I’ll be back to regular scheduling and post at a reasonable time (and fix my editing skills LMFAO)! Thank you again for being so patient! Ngl, I am still drowning in all my TGCF feels, so I highly recommend this novel. It’s a long read, but well worth it! ❤️ HuaLian 4 life, period.

So yeah, I’ll see you guys again for our next set of takeaways! 😍

As always, stay safe during these turbulent times and look out for each other and for your loved ones! 💜    

[honestlyhappyharry]

Chapter 1

Prologue

4 and a half years later

The truth was you thought about Harry sometimes, or a lot of the time if you were being honest. Usually, it was happy thoughts about the way you laughed together and how everything made sense, until the day he stopped listening. You thought about him most when you looked at her. Lily-Anne Eleanor Styles. She was the most important thing in your life. And she looked just like her father, Harry. 

A lot of the time you thought about how much easier it would have been if you had gone back to Harry after your fight that night, you thought about infinite possibilities of how your life could have turned out and you thought about his soft, brown curls and greek god type look. 

But it was too late for that now. 

Raising Lily alone wasn’t the easiest thing you’d ever done but for the most part you weren’t alone you had your mum and Eleanor who were always there for you. You had met Eleanor when you were dating Harry and you has been friends ever since. It was surprising as Louis and Harry were friends and Eleanor was still with Louis but your paths never crossed. 

Once you and Harry broke up you knew you had to completely stop any communication with him. You didn’t go and get the rest of your things, you changed your phone number and took the money you had saved from when you were dating Harry and brought a 3 bedroom house in Santa Monica. Then, on the 19th of May, your daughter was born.

The living room was quiet before your phone started buzzing. “Hey, El.” You answer after reading the caller ID. A quick glance at the clock in the living room tells you it’s nearly 3 so you slip out the sliding door and stand in the backyard. 

“Y/n! How are you?” She had her usual chirpy tone of voice. You could hear the sound of other people talking in the background, the low, guy kind of talking that reminded you of all the times Harry had the boys over and they could be acting rowdily in the lounge. 

You didn’t know where Harry was living because whenever any mentioned him you’d zone out. Maybe, you weren’t sure, it was so you didn’t get hurt by what he was doing or because you just didn’t care. But it happened a lot. 

You took a few steps over to the glass pool fencing and leant on it. “I’m alright, Lily’s just about to wake up from her nap though.” You inform her. At 4 years old Lily didn’t always nap in the afternoon but this morning she had dance lessons and then you went for a walk on the beach so she was really tired. Usually, she napped most Saturday afternoons but this Tuesday she needed one. 

You were very fortunate to be able to work as an editor in the Los Angeles Times. It meant you were able to work from home a few days a week and in the office for a few days when Lily went to daycare. Seeing as it was a different type of job to the life you had with Harry, the media hadn’t been interested in what you were doing, thankfully because it was very easy to realise Lily was related to Harry. 

“I miss her so much,” Eleanor replied, you could almost see the smile on her face. From the beginning, Eleanor had been so supportive and helpful throughout your pregnancy and once Lily was born she was even better.

Being close with Eleanor meant you were also close with Louis, he was a lot like the father she didn’t have.

You replied to her previous comment with “El, we saw you like two weeks ago,” and a laugh which she returned with a giggle. 

“I know but she grows so much every time I see her.” She whined a little. “Anyway, I was calling to invite you to come to Disneyland with us tomorrow, Lily too of course.” She offered. Lily loved Disneyland possibly more than anything else and living in LA made it easy for you to take her there. “It’s okay if it’s too short notice.” Her voice came through the other end of the phone and you realised she hadn’t heard a reply. 

“Yeah, Lily would just love it. Have you guys rented the whole place?” You asked her. It had taken a while for you to get used to the celebrity lifestyle when you were with Harry, celebrities renting theme parks to avoid the paparazzi. 

The thought took you back to your one year anniversary with Harry when he’d rented Disneyworld out for you. After you’d spent half the day there Harry had let a big group of people from the homeless shelter with children in and insisted he’d pay for anything they wanted.

“No, just toon town and fantasy land, it’s kind of a trip for the kids. Louis’ bringing Freddie, Lou’s bringing Lux and the twins are coming as well. I think Louis might have invited Liam but I’m not sure.” She lists for you. 

You didn’t even have to think about it. “We’d love to come. I can’t wait to see Lou again and Lux must be so grown up. Oh, and the girls, I haven’t seen them in like half a year. We’ll definitely be there. After the two of you chat for a few minutes more about some trivial things you say goodbye and hang up.

You didn’t think to ask if Harry was coming because it didn’t occur to you he would be.

You walked back over to the house and slid the door open before walking back in to see Lily sitting on the couch. She usually came down stairs after a nap to see you. “Hey baby, want to go to Disney tomorrow?” You offer, already knowing the answer. Her face lit up quickly as she started frantically nodding her head. 

“Yeah, can you ask Auntie El to come?” She asked. Eleanor was definitely one of her favourite people.

“Yeah, she’s going to. Uncle Louis as well. And Lux, Lou and Freddie. Do you remember Liam? He might be there. And Daisy and Phoebe, they’re Louis’ sisters.” You list, trying to remember everyone and hoping she’d know someone you were talking about. 

All of the boys knew Lily was Harry’s daughter, from the curly brown hair to the green eyes it wasn’t hard to tell. Lily knew of Louis and Niall seeing as he was a good friend of yours. She sort of knew Zayn and Liam from the few times you had invited them over but you doubted she would remember either of them. 

Thankfully, Lily had never asked about her father which you thought was odd but you didn’t know what you’d say if she did ask.

“I remember Daisy and Phoebe.” She told you. They had met her on a few occasions and they just thought she was the cutest thing in the morning. “Is Liam got brown hair? And he’s quite tall?” She asked, you had a little at the fact that every adult she had met was taller than her but she still had to class them as tall.

“Yeah, but his hair might be different now.” You mention, trying to remember what it looked like when she last saw him and what it looked like from the photo you saw on his Instagram the other day. 

She snapped you out of your thoughts with her next question. “Snack now?”

_______________________________________________________________________

Taglist 

@annestine

Let me know if you’d like to be added.

[bts-roses]

Spilling Coffee | 1

➼ summary: You’ve always prided yourself in being a naturally graceful and reliable person. So an internship at BigHit seemed like a walk in the park. That is, until a certain goof slide-kicks you off your feet and makes your life a whole lot harder.

/

Namjoon is a misunderstood klutz and y/n thinks too much.

➼ pairing: idol!namjoon x intern!reader

➼ genre: fluff, angst (if you squint), idolverse

➼ word count: 3,700

| next

‣

You have always been proud of your natural grace. Throughout your life, it’s granted you the title of being the responsible and reliable one. The one to do the important jobs. You were always the child the teacher would pick to fill a glass of water up for the paintbrushes during art class. You would do that with a smug grin on your face, holding a big ass jar of water with both of your tiny hands. You would hand it to the teacher, whip your pigtails as you turn around and walk back to your seat looking at your jealous classmates like hell yeah I just did that, you bitches could never.

So naturally, finding out you were about to intern in a big entertainment company, you just knew you were going to unquestionably nail it. Being responsible for mundane tasks like going on coffee runs or carrying boxes to different places? Uhh, you lived for that shit.

Obviously, these weren’t the only tasks and they were definitely not going to help you in the long run of your dream profession. But being able to put down that you received work experience from Big Hit Entertainment sure was. And there was an opportunity to get a job there after your internship! And the internship pays really well! And apparently the food in their canteen was pretty good! In conclusion, it was a win-win situation all around. And how hard could it be?

The answer to that was hard. Very fucking hard.

‣

Namjoon has always been in awe of how clumsy he actually was. Even his bandmates wonder how such an intelligent, grown man can be such a dumbass. Whenever he tried to fix something? Boom, it instantly got 10x worse. His fans even call him the God of Destruction. He would be offended by the nickname, but he can’t hate the truth. And the title is pretty badass if you think about it.

He was more of the kid in art class who was always given small jobs like making sure the aprons weren’t tangled up when it was time to put them away. Even though he wanted cooler jobs like holding those cool big ass glass jars, he understood that sometimes it’s just best to mind his own business and do his own designated jobs. You know, for world peace.

But today. Wow. It’s like the gods above are punishing him or something.

He actually woke up feeling pretty good. Today was going to be his day. Or so he thought. His clumsiness, once again, ruins it for him.

Long story short: he accidentally broke a bit of the toilet seat off. In his defence, he really needed a shit and someone left the toilet seat up again. He was definitely not going to fall into the toilet bowl this time. So Namjoon did the only thing a human could do in such a limited space of time: he slam-dunked that toilet seat down as hard as he could. Not his smartest idea. To his dismay, he spent his morning poo hovering over the toilet, with a piece of the seat held in his left hand. Let’s just say the other members were not thrilled when he walked out to the kitchen holding the piece of the smashed toilet seat from one of the most used bathrooms in the house.

After sitting through another one of Seokjin's speeches about the importance of handling things with a bit more caution, Namjoon decided it would be best to go to the company a bit earlier than the others today. Especially when the younger ones wouldn’t stop roasting the shit out of him. It was when he tripped over walking into the company building he thought to himself.

Maybe today wasn’t his day.

‣

This was the tenth day of your internship. And you don’t like to boast but you think you’re owning this shit. Sure, your boss is scary and likes giving you lots of monotonous tasks. But she’s not that bad. Besides, this is what you signed up for! And you’re having fun. Kinda.

“Intern.” You look up from your desk to see a smiling Joowon, one of your coworkers, “Lee is asking for you.”

Giving him a nod, you swiftly get up from your desk. You knock on your boss’ door and walk in when she acknowledges your presence.

“Yes, Mrs Lee?” you say, beaming brightly.

“I need you to go on a coffee run for the marketing team. We have an important meeting regarding TXT’s comeback and I do not want to see anyone slacking. If I do, I will kill someone,” she says looking up from the screen, giving you a small vacant smile. See? She’s warming up to you!

“Of course! Do you want me to buy you a knife while I’m out? Just in case?” You joke while giggling lightly.

“Was that supposed to be a joke?” She asks, with no amusement in her face.

You immediately stop laughing. Fuck. Maybe she’s just a tad bit scary. You stiffen a bit and nod ashamed.

“Yeah. I don’t need any of that here” she glances at you up and down and then looks back at her computer, “you should leave now.”

You bow and basically run out of her office. Okay. Fine. She’s fucking terrifying.

You knew working in a big establishment like BigHit was going to be intimidating but not this intimidating. It didn’t help that you had a subliminal fear of attractive people. Of course, you liked looking at them but talking to them made you so nervous. Maybe you should've taken that into account before working in a fucking entertainment company. They were everywhere. At least you were working in the marketing team, where your interactions with the idols were very limited. However, you still would have the odd occurrence with one. On your second day, TXT's Soobin asked you for Mrs Lee's whereabouts. You nearly cried... But let’s not think about that.

Thankfully, your department is quite small and you only had to go get nine iced americanos. The lady at the counter also gave you two paper bags that held eight of them which made your life easier. Since you were feeling fancy and had the room, you got yourself an iced latte. Realising you were a bit short on time, you quickly dashed back to the company.

Entering the building, you check the clock on the lobby wall: fifteen minutes until the meeting starts. Cool. That's fine. You can totally get there before it starts. Totally. Deep breath. You'll be fine. After violently stabbing the elevator button multiple times, you hastily enter and press the floor you needed. Seeing no one was going to get on with you, you push the button to close the doors. Just once. Maybe a few times for good measure. Before the doors shut, you catch a glimpse of the clock again. Thirteen minutes. More than enough time.

When you reach your floor, you check inside the bags to make sure nothing has spilt. You can't help but smile. Look at you. Two coffees in each hand? Not a spill. Holding two bags of coffee? Not a single drop. You really did that. You were that bitch. I am the elite intern. You think to yourself with a chuckle. Then you stop yourself and wince. Jesus Christ. You really needed to get a life.

Remembering your task, you carefully pull out your phone from your pocket to check the time; ten minutes. Just to be safe (and to beat your previous coffee run score of having eight minutes to spare), you speed down the hallway.

You can literally see the glass walls of the meeting room. Not even half of the team is there yet. You were that early. On the opposite side of the corridor, you see your boss, who is facing away from you, and Joowon talking to each other. He glances at you and smiles. You quicken your pace, about to return the smile.

Suddenly, you're seeing him horizontally.

What the fuck? Why the fuck? Oh my God. You're too busy soaking up the mess in front of you that you don’t feel the searing pain on your left ankle. You blink hard and freeze on the floor.

The coffee is spilt. Everywhere.

Shit. You’re gonna get killed. You're gonna get fired. Before you start crying on the ground, the floor starts moving... Wait. Floors don't move. Uuugh. And floors sure as hell don't groan.

You look sideways to realise you're on top of someone's chest. That said someone looks down at you.

Your heart drops.

You jump up to stand and you instantly feel the sting on your ankle. You look at the scene in front of you. You feel like sobbing again. You just spilt your drink all over RM. Fucking Kim Namjoon. You know, the leader of the biggest fucking boy group on the planet? That's the one. You aren’t just going to be fired. You're gonna be banished from Korea. Burned at the stake. Mauled to death.

"I'm so fucking sorry." You burst out, desperately getting back down on the floor to clean up the liquid with your clothes, "I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to."

You warily look at him. He's just lying there in this weird, starfish-like position. Not really moving. Oh my God, you think to yourself. You fucking broke him. Did you kill him?

You stop helplessly scrubbing the floor with your jumper sleeve and shakily ask him, "are you alive?"

Abruptly, pulls himself up in a seated position. You flinch. Fuck. He's gorgeous. Great, now you’re nervous. He stares at you blankly and you wince a bit. You mentally prepare yourself to get screamed at and you feel a sting in your eyes. God, you're about to cry. You’re gonna lose your internship. You’re gonna have no future. You're so fucking terri-

All you hear is a deep chuckle.

"Shit. You've done it again Namjoon" he mutters to himself in disbelief, "Did I hurt you?"

He looks at you in concern and shuffles closer. Carefully, he puts a hand on your shoulder. Well, he’s never seen you before. He glances down at the ID card hanging from your neck. There’s a picture of you grinning cheerfully and your name: Y/n L/n. An intern? He also notices that you don’t have the same red lanyard as the other staff here; you switched yours to an Animal Crossing themed ribbon. Cute. He looks back up and his brows furrow when he sees a tear run down your cheek.

“U-uh. I-I’m fine.” you stutter, not really paying attention and avoiding eye contact. You feel yourself shaking.

“Are you sure? I just completely wiped you out with a sliding kick.” He jokes to try to ease the situation, offering a kind smile. Fuck, he has dimples, you think to yourself. You feel him brush his thumb over your cheek to wipe the stray tear.

“Oh my God. Namjoon-ah are you okay?” your boss asks, pushing past you to check on the man, “What is with this mess? What on earth did you do, intern?”

You stumble upwards, preparing for your death. You close your eyes in anticipation. Here it is. Your life was fun while it laste-

“It wasn’t her fault. And I’m fine. Just a bit of liquid.” You hear him say.

You open your eyes and face them. The idol makes eye contact with you and you quickly divert your eyes down. You feel your face heat up from the sudden attention.

“Namjoon-ah, it’s okay. You don’t need to cover up for her. She’s just an intern.” your boss says, impressed with his supposed kindness.

Excuse me? You look up at her disbelief. He was the one who caused you to fall. Before you’re about to defend yourself, you glance at him again and stop yourself. Oh, what the hell? Fine.

“I’m so sorry! I’ll clean this up straight away!” You shout and bow deeply, accepting the fault. It was just going to be easier this way, you’re just a disposable intern anyways.

Namjoon watches you bow deeply towards them. What? This was his fault.

“Wait, no this was my doin-” He started.

“I really expected better than this, intern.” Mrs Lee sighs in disappointment, not wanting to waste time, “Clean this mess up.”

You bow at both of them again as she walks past you, heading for the meeting room. Well that went better than expected. At least you’re still alive. You sigh weakly and started your hunt for something to help clean the mess up.

Before he could intervene again to clear things up, his phone rings.

“Hyung! Where are you? We need you now, the business call is just about to start.” Jimin shouts down the phone.

Namjoon curses himself. He takes a quick look at your back before running to where he was needed. So much for first impressions. Throughout the call, all he could focus on was the cute intern he wiped out and his coffee-stained hoodie sticking to his chest.

Yup. Today was definitely not his day.

‣

After two weeks of whatever that was, you’ve been trying really hard to redeem yourself. Just a few examples: you started colour coding the meeting notes to make it easier to read; you call the coffee shop ahead of time so your coffee runs take no longer than seven minutes; you bring running shoes to work so for any errands you need to run, you literally run. Oh, and most importantly, you steer the fuck out of Kim Namjoon’s way. This step has been proven difficult because you now see him everywhere. (Apparently, their group is heading into more product deals with different companies so your department is becoming a regular for them).

You tell yourself you aren’t trying to avoid the man because that would be stupid. But you know deep inside you’re just really fucking scared of him. Here are some reasons for your new founded fear:

1. He drop-kicked you down to the floor and you would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt like a bitch. You walked with a limp for a whole week. You’re pretty sure you could’ve sued him.

2. He’s the reason Mrs Lee now hates you with a burning passion. (Bit of an overstatement but since when did your mind not blow things out of proportion?)

3. He’s too tall. His mere size towers over you. It’s petrifying.

4. He’s so fucking attractive? Like? Who allowed him to look that good daily? And when he smiles, his dimples show? The thought of them breaks you out in cold sweat.

5. He smells too nice.

6. And oh yeah. Whenever you see each other, he tries to walk up and talk to you.

It scares the living daylights out of you.

‣

Namjoon has never experienced this before.

It’s like he’s the bloody plague. The guilt was eating him alive. For two weeks now he’s been trying to come up and talk to you. And for two weeks you have been running away from him like your life depended on it. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Surely you knew it was an honest mistake and he did try to defend you against Mrs Lee. He even apologised, right? Did he apologise? Oh God, he didn’t apologise. He needs to apologise.

“Hyung!” Jungkook pushes him, “Were you even listening?”

Namjoon looks up at the youngest in confusion, “What?”

“He’s too busy thinking about his latest victim.” Jimin teases.

Jungkook laughs with him, “It’s not like she hates you or anything. If you feel so bad about it then just go talk to her and sort it out. You said she was on the marketing floor right? So just go find-”

His words get cut off by his hyung groaning and banging his head down to his table, watching the surrounding objects jump up from the force.

“You think I haven’t tried that?” He mumbles sadly into the wood, “She runs away from me.”

The two younger men look at each other.

“Hyung, you’re totally just overthinking this. She doesn’t run away from you.” Jungkook chuckles, offering a supporting hand on Namjoon’s back.

After a few hours of trying to work on some songs, Namjoon yawns loudly and stretches out his long limbs. From behind him, he hears the two yawn straight after and they all let out a small laugh.

“I think we should call it a day,” Jimin stands up, starting to pack his things, “Yoongi hyung said we were gonna have dinner tonight so we should get going.”

Moving towards the elevator, Namjoon sees you, holding a big stack of papers, from the corner. Shit. Instantly, he pulls the two members in front of him.

“Oh my God, it’s her.” He hides and whispers, even though you are out of ear reach.

Jungkook and Jimin look at the small moving figure, who is currently trying to move hair out of her face with her mouth. So that’s the girl who is clouding their leader’s mind. They watch you a few feet away from the elevator. As if they knew what the other was thinking, they exchange a mischievous look. Without warning, they forcefully drag their hyung forwards before he could process their actions.

Jesus. You whine to yourself. These papers are so fucking heavy. When you hear the ding of lift, you walk in and stretch your pinky to the ground floor button. You move to the back of the elevator, resting your back on the railing. You only have this job to do and you can finally go home. Smiling at the thought, you mindlessly look at your feet, oh and the large feet in front of you. Wait, what?

You look up in shock and meet eyes with your greatest fear. He gives you a nervous smile and you notice the two other attractive people on either side of him. Another fear of yours. (Not the biggest fear at hand but albeit still a fear). God. It’s like you were in a horror movie, where the ghosts were unfairly good looking. You feel your heart speeding. You scream inwardly when you see the idol opening his mouth.

Namjoon stutters and starts when he feels Jungkook hit his back, “Hello aga-”

He feels a gust of wind run past him.

You just sprinted out of the elevator.

As the doors close, the three turn around and watch you racing away. Gobsmacked. Before the doors fully shut, Namjoon is the only one that sees you trip, papers flying everywhere. He lets out a quiet gasp. The small room is silent.

“Well,” Jungkook quietly coughs out, “Maybe she does hate you...”

“You think she hates me?” The oldest pitifully questions and watches Jimin hit the youngest.

“No, don’t be stupid,” Jimin weakly persuades and gives an insincere smile, “She might just be nervous or something.”

Namjoon instantly frowns. She hates me.

‣

You lay face down on the floor, soaking up all the embarrassment of what just happened. Did you just fall? You? Over nothing? What in God’s name is happening to you? You look up and instantly wince. All the documents you organised, sorted and colour-coded are all messed up. There goes your early night.

Picking up the stray papers, you think to yourself: what the fuck is wrong with you? If you weren’t such a big pussy, your life would have been so much easier. You think about all of the time you would have saved if you just walked the quicker route, regardless of whether or not he was in the way. You think about all the plants you wouldn’t have hid behind to prevent his attention. You think about all the information you could’ve learned about your dream job if you didn’t reject the offers just because there was a slim chance of running into him.

At the end of the night, you have one question burning into your mind: why were you so scared of him?

‣

“You like him.” Daeun proclaims. You just told her about your most recent encounter with him.

You stare at the fellow intern in confusion, “What?”

“You have a big fat crush on him.” She repeats, taking a bite out of her lunch, “Just think about it, you said it yourself, your heart races when you see him... So you like him.”

“My heart races because I’m scared of him” You point out.

“No. You dumb bitch. Your heart races because you are nervous.”

Oh. Well, this was not what you were expecting when you asked your friend for advice. You have a crush on Namjoon?

“B-but I don’t know anything about him.” You argue, shaking your head.

“You don’t necessarily have to personally know him to crush on him,” she continues, “You find him attractive right?”

“W-well, yeah I guess so-”

“There you go. We’ve cracked it. You’re just horny for him.”

“The fuck? No, I’m not.” you push her and she laughs.

“I don’t blame you, he walks like he’s got a massive cock.”

You shriek and whack her in detest. She screams jokingly at the pain. When you two look around and notice people staring, you both can’t help but laugh hard.

At 9PM, you were laying in bed, thinking about your friend’s words and you couldn’t help but to be curious about him. Sure, you liked his music as much as the next person but you didn’t know much about Namjoon as a person. Since you just graduated from college, you didn’t have much time to spend on immersing yourself in the world of the BTS. Letting your curiosity get the better of you, you start doing research, telling yourself it’ll only take a few minutes.

After watching countless interviews and videos, you wonder how such a person could exist. He’s intelligent, loving, kind, gentle, passionate and- well you just go on for hours. You laugh a bit when you realise his only fault: he’s the biggest fucking klutz.

It hit you at 3AM when you finished watching his UNICEF speech with a big ass smile on your face.

Fuck, you totally have a crush on Namjoon.

a/n: hello! thank you for reading + i hope you’ve enjoyed. i’m also already in the process of writing the second part, if that is something you would like to see!

[demigodreading]

WSVU Day 2

Characters: Willow, Olivia Benson, Fin

Theme: First Kiss

Warnings: This is my least favorite one that I have for this week. It just was not anything like I had originally wanted it to be. Horrible Fluff, Undercover Mission

Relationships: Olivia Benson x Willow Olivia Benson x Original Character

Summary: Original Character, Willow, and Olivia Benson are thrown into an undercover operation at a lesbian bar. Olivia reveals her true feelings for Willow and they end up in bed together. 

#WSVU WEEK

Secrets Out

Willow was still relatively new to the SVU squad when she was placed undercover with Olivia to try and lure out a perpetrator from a local gay bar. He was known for following out lesbian couples back to their apartments. Once there he would tie one up while he forced the other one to have sex with him. If they did not follow his exact orders he would beat and cut the one that he had tied up. Three lesbian couples had been attacked but they were no closer to finding out who he was. He was careful and seemed to go unnoticed by everyone else in the bar. Before it got any worse Cragen decided to send his only two female detectives undercover to lure him out. 

Willow and Olivia were close friends by the time they heard the details of the undercover operation. They had bonded over being the only two female detectives and would often work out together after work. Rock climbing was what Willow enjoyed the most because of the rush that she always got when she reached the top. Olivia however enjoyed runs through central park. She loved feeling the breeze on her face and being outdoors instead of stuffed indoors all day. Lately, they had been doing more than just working out together. Short conversations after workouts had turned into dinners. Dinners had turned into movie nights. Movie nights had turned into the occasional sleepovers when Willow had fallen asleep on Olivia’s couch during the movie.

During these sleepovers, Olivia would tuck a blanket around Willow making sure she wouldn’t get cold in the night. Sometimes Olivia would even sneak a soft forehead kiss just light enough that Willow would barely stir. It was nice having someone in the apartment to make the long dark nights seem a little more manageable. Plus Willow always seemed to know how to make Olivia smile when she felt like drowning herself in a wine bottle. She was falling for the other woman rookie detective and she only could hope that the same feelings were had by Willow.

Olivia had finally mustered up the courage to ask Willow on a proper date when their undercover plan launched for that same night. Willow and Olivia were released to go home and get ready. The plan was that they would meet at Willow’s apartment and then head to the bar from there because she was closer. They would hang out at the bar for awhile flirting and trying to lure the man to follow them home that night. Fin would be working as security at the bar while Munch, Cragen, and Elliot would be out in the van in case the woman needed back up.

Olivia and Willow gathered their stuff and headed to the elevator together to prepare for the events of tonight. When they reached the bottom floor Olivia looked at Willow. She was wringing her hands out nervously searching through her purse for her keys mumbling curse words.

“Willow,” Olivia said, grabbing Willow’s hand, “Are you okay?”

Willow seemed to calm under the touch of Olivia, “Never been undercover before. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You are going to do great. This is going to be easy,” Olivia smiled squeezing Willow’s hand, “Just imagine tonight as another one of our girl’s night. Another day of hanging out and just having fun.”

“We are going to have to do more than just hanging out tonight if we want to catch the guy Liv.”

“Would that really be so bad?” Olivia replied nonchalantly giving Willow a quick kiss on the cheek, “I’ll see you at your place at 6.”

Before Willow could respond Olivia was rushing out the door. Willow placed her hand gently on her cheek where she could still feel Olivia’s kiss burning against it. Did Olivia really just say that them going on a flirty date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world? That was something Willow had dreamed about since the first day she had laid eyes on Liv. This however was definitely not the way that she had ever planned their first date to be. Undercover putting their life on the line to try and find a serial killer. 

An hour later there was a knock on Willow’s apartment door. She had just finished getting ready, her hair still slightly wet from her shower. She was in a tight red dress that dipped down low into her cleavage. The back of the dress was mostly open with thin straps criss crossing to keep the fabric together. She had on tall black heels and to complete the look some dark red lipstick. She hadn’t been this dressed up since she had gone on her last date with her ex-girlfriend when she had first started at SVU. When she opened the door to find Olivia standing in with a bouquet of red roses.

Willow smiled, opening the door up for Olivia to step inside. Olivia has had her burgundy hair down like she always did but it was the shirt that really caught Willow’s attention. It was a tight black tank top that had a crisscrossed front that showed off Olivia’s cleavage perfectly. Around the tank top, she had a black leather jack pulled on that complimented her ripped black jeans. She had black boots with a small heel pulled on that kept her a couple of inches taller than Willow. 

Olivia handed the roses to Willow, “You look stunning Willow.”

Willow felt her cheeks turn a bright red and she went to find a vase for the flowers, “I could say the same thing about you Liv. You look gorgeous. Thank you for the flowers by the way.”

“Of course, pretty girls deserve pretty flowers on their date,” Liv smiled.

“So you were serious about what you said earlier?”

It was Olivia’s turn to turn bright red, “I was going to ask you out before we go put on this assignment. I had been trying to work up the nerve all day but the captain really ruined my thunder.”

“Well, just so you know. I would have said yes,” Willow smiled taking Olivia’s hand in hers.

“Good to know,” Olivia said squeezing Willow’s hand, “What about after tonight we can go on a date where all of our coworkers won’t be keeping an eye on us.”

Willow let out a tiny groan, “I forgot they would be there tonight.”

“Don’t think too much about it Willow,” Olivia said pulling her to the door, “Like I said tonight is all about having a little fun.”

They arrived at the bar twenty minutes later grabbing each other’s hands as they stepped out of the cab. Munch and Elliot watched as the two women approached the back of the line. Olivia wrapped her arm securely around Willow’s waist holding her close as they waited to get closer to the bar. When they got to the front Fin quickly checked their IDs and they ushered them inside. The bar was packed and Willow clung to Olivia as she pushed through the crowd to find two empty seats at the bar. 

They needed to be out in the open enough to attract the attention of the man they were looking for. Olivia and Willow sat close together as Olivia ordered drinks for the both of them. Olivia kept her hand high on Willow’s thigh causing a slight shiver to come down Willow’s spine. When their drinks arrived Willow took a big gulp out of it downing it with one breath. She immediately ordered another one as Olivia slowly sipped at hers.

“Willow,” Olivia said gently rubbing her thigh, “Take a breath beautiful.”

“I’m sorry Liv,” Willow sighed, “I haven’t been on a date since I broke up with my ex girlfriend. I feel completely out of my element.”

“Just let me take the lead,” Olivia said and leaned into Willow, “I promise I will take good care of you.”

Olivia placed a gentle kiss on Willow’s neck causing a soft moan to escape her lips. Olivia quickly downed her drink and then dragged Willow onto the dance floor. Olivia laced her arms around Willow’s waist pulling her in close. The feeling of Olivia pressed this close to her made Willow almost collapse right then and there. She wrapped her hands around Olivia’s neck as they moved to the movements. One song bled into another and soon everyone else in the room disappeared.

When Willow pulled her head back slightly she made eye contact with Olivia. Before she realized it Olivia’s lips were pressed hard against hers. The feeling was electric as she ran her fingers through Olivia’s hair pulling her even closer. She felt Olivia’s tongue brush over her bottom lip. She opened her mouth slightly allowing Olivia access and moaned into the kiss. As they finally broke for air Olivia noticed Fin trying to catch their attention. Olivia laced her fingers through Willow’s making their way to Fin.

“Hey lovebirds, captain wanted me to tell you both that you are off the hook. They caught the guy following a different couple home. Said that you both could go home for the rest of the night,” Fin said as they all stepped out of the bar.

“Thanks Fin,” Olivia said, offering Willow her jacket as the cold breeze finally hit them, “We will see you in the morning.” He nodded, “Also your secret is safe with me guys.”

Willow and Olivia smiled as they said their final goodbye to Fin. In the cab Olivia and Willow sat as close as they could to each other. They walked up to Willow’s apartment hand in hand. As soon as the door shut Olivia was all over Willow. She was biting gently down her neck as Willow kicked off her heels. In one swift movement Olivia grabbed Willow’s ass pulling her up. Willow immediately wrapped her legs around Olivia’s waist giving directions to the bedroom as Olivia continued to peck down her neck leaving marks that would be dark bruises in the morning. 

When they got down to the bedroom Olivia flopped Willow onto the bed. Olivia stripped of her tank top and pants quickly before laying her naked body back on top of Willow. She stopped momentarily looking into Willow’s eyes for wordless consent. Willow nodded her head and kissed gently down Olivia’s neck. Olivia moaned pulling at Willow’s dress. She threw the dress into the pile along with her clothes. They tangled their limbs around each other as they leaned into another kiss.

Olivia kissed down Willow’s neck once again biting right at her pressure point. Willow let out a long moan as Olivia sucked gently making sure Willow would remember this night for days to come. Once she was done Olivia continued to make her way down taking one of Willow’s breasts gently in her mouth. Willow let out a long moan lacing her fingers through Olivia’s short hair. As Olivia worked over her breasts she slipped a hand down between her thighs. 

“Already so wet Willow. We haven’t even started,” Olivia said as she gently swiped her finger through Willow’s folds.

Willow let out a whimper, “Olivia please.”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me,” Willow whimpered as Olivia swiped gently over her clit again.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” Olivia smirked and dipped one finger slowly inside of Willow.

Willow opened her legs more so that Olivia was able to insert two fingers inside of her. Willow dragged her nails along Olivia’s back moaning out her name. It was all the encouragement she needed to keep going, setting a frantic pace. She kept her palm against Willow’s clit circling it slowly. It wasn’t long before she felt Willow spasming around her moaning loudly. Olivia kept gently pumping her fingers until Willow had officially ridden out her orgasm. 

Willow let out one final gasp as Olivia removed her fingers and sucked off the juices. Once her fingers were clean she placed a gentle kiss on Willow’s forehead. Willow wrapped her arms around Olivia still slightly shaking. Olivia placed her head on Willow’s chest listening to her heart beat. Soon both women fell asleep, their limbs tangled together.

[gohyuck]

Love and War Act I - LDH

theater kid! hyuck with some enemies to lovers realness

word count: 3.2k

warnings: a lot of swearing and a lot of hatred, possible nsfw in future chapters

notes: in part based on this post

part of a series: yes, this is part 1

in which you really, really, really can’t stand lee donghyuck

Act I, Scene I: An Introduction of the Situation

You’ve never hated a musical more. 

In an effort to ‘generate student interest in the arts’, Neo Culture Tech’s very own Mr. Taeil Moon, head of the fine arts department at what can only be described as a STEM college preparatory school, had put word out that this year’s fall theater show would be an entirely student-produced musical. Whether it was to elevate NCT’s arts up to the level at which they’d have to get the same funding as the robotics team or whether it was to truly cultivate creativity, nobody was sure. Still, the play persisted. From the actual dialogue, to the songs and their composition, to the dances choreography, everything was to be a bona fide effort from students across the school, not just in the theater department. Before anyone could say anything, the band and orchestra students were forced to create and compose scores and songs while the choir kids had to write lyrics for their semester project. The dance team had to choreograph everything and the art students were told they’d be making the posters for the show.

All of this, of course, was to come after the actual play had been written by the students in the Theater IV: Theater Productions class. 

If only you’d stayed in Theater III. 

Regardless, every good story starts from the beginning. And at the start of this one, there was a group of 13 potential starring roles in the tragedy? Comedy? Romance? Of Mr. Moon’s Theater IV musical production.

The official Theater IV roster was - and is - as follows:

(Name) - (Nickname)

Julia Choi - (Lia)

Renjun Huang

Lucy Hwang - (Yeji)

Somi Jeon

Chaeryeong Lee

Donghyuck Lee - (Haechan)

Jeno Lee

Jaemin Na - (Nana)

Jisung Park

Joanne Shin - (Ryujin)

Hussey Shin - (Yuna)

Chenle Zhong

13 is a decent amount of people able to give input on a play - from characterization, to plot, to underlying themes, there’s a place for everyone. If all of you worked on it, it could’ve been done at the speed of light, with ample time for revision and practice. Playwrighting wouldn’t have been harrowing. In fact, the project seemed fun at the beginning, and it was something you were genuinely looking forward to. After all, you genuinely liked everyone in your class… or, at least, almost everyone. Still, with 11 other people besides you and him, you would have ample buffer for the brain damage you were sure he would inflict upon you simply due to proximity. 

You forgot entirely about Murphy’s Law.

Jeno, Renjun, Somi, and Chaeryeong were the first to opt out of writing the play, gently reminding Mr. Moon that they were tech theater students, and would much rather design and build the set. It didn’t take long after that for Jaemin, Ryujin, Jisung, and Yeji to choose choreographing with their dance teammates over being playwrights. Yuna was quick to state that she’d rather make the posters in her art classes, and both Lia and Chenle decided that writing lyrics in choir would take up enough of their time as it was. 

At the start there were 13. 

You were happy, looking forward to talking about settings with Somi and comedic effect necessities with Jaemin. You weren’t only in theater to act - you were in the program in order to satisfy your need to create. Creating an entire play from nothing made you more eager than anything.

That is, until 13 dwindled down to 2 with alarming speed. 

Act I, Scene II: The Devil Incarnate

“Her royal highness is finally here!” Donghyuck faux cheers as you walk into your English Literature class right before the bell rings. The smirk in his tone is not lost on you, though you do mentally revel in the fact that nobody laughs at his stupid declaration. His seat is to the right of yours, but that doesn’t keep him from angling away from the board just to prop his feet up onto your desk. You don’t grace him with a response, only rolling your eyes before shoving his sneaker-laden feet off your desk none too ceremoniously and dropping your backpack onto the floor beside you as you slide into your seat. 

“What,” He starts, evidently hellbent on annoying you at 8 in the morning. You don’t turn to look at him, though you can distinctly see his shit-eating grin out of the corner of your right eye. Donghyuck leans towards you, his face coming far too close to you for your own comfort. You hope he’ll get the hint from your silence and leave you alone, but he continues speaking, much to your chagrin. “No snarky response from our resident ice queen today? Is your tongue frozen solid, princess?”

“Call me princess one more time, and you won’t even have a tongue left,” You threaten, still facing forward in your adamant refusal to look Donghyuck Lee in the eyes. He lets out a short laugh and leans back, finally properly settling into his own seat, pleased at his success at pissing you off. Before either of you can try to insult the other again, Mr. Suh rushes into the room, his Staff ID askew around his neck and his glasses sliding down his nose. The door flies shut behind him, and you straighten your back. 

Class has officially started. 

“You were only three minutes late today, Johnny,” Beomgyu calls from the back as your teacher is getting himself settled, and you turn to see your classmate holding up his watch, mirth in his eyes. “It’s a new personal record.” 

As if cued, the rest of the class bursts into a round of applause, with Donghyuck whistling with his fingers beside you. Mr. Suh - better known simply as Johnny to his students, due to him being fresh out of his undergrad - can’t help but chuckle at your class’ antics, doing nothing but shaking his head and pushing his glasses up onto his face. 

“Alright, before I get called down to the front office again, let me fill out attendance,” Johnny says eventually, finally sitting down at his computer. While he starts calling out everyone’s names you rifle around in your backpack, searching for your copy of The Taming of the Shrew, the book you’re all currently reading in class. Though it has some… questionable moments and themes, you can’t help but love it - you daresay it’s your favorite required reading book yet. Just as you find it, Johnny says your name. 

“(Name),” He says, and you straighten yourself out, your copy of the Shakespearean play gripped firmly in your hand. “I’m h-” 

“She’s here. Didn’t you feel the frost when you came in?” Donghyuck beats you to it, and you finally whirl around to glare at him, raising the hand holding the book up high as if you’re about to beat him with it. 

“Donghyuck Lee, I fucking swear -”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Your teacher raises his voice, coming to stand between the two of your desks. “I’m going to ignore the swear word this time because Haechan’s being annoying -”

You lean back to meet Donghyuck’s eyes, sending him a smirk that directly contrasts his wince. 

“- But you know better than to let your emotions get the best of you on things like this.” Johnny finishes, his words now aimed at you. You sigh, lowering your book to rest on your desk and slouching back into your chair. 

“Now behave, you two, got it? Act like actual people for once.”

The snickers of your classmates behind you cause your face to go red, and your anger at Donghyuck flares up again alongside your urge to crawl into a hole and hibernate. Still, through a furrowed brow and clenched teeth, you nod your agreement.

“Yes, Johnny.” You say at the same time Donghyuck mutters a “Sorry, John.” Both of you slide down even further into your seats. 

Neither of you say anything to each other for the rest of class, though you make sure to send scathing glances his way whenever your eyes seem to meet. To his merit, he manages to flip you off effortlessly every time Johnny turns towards the board. By the time class ends and you’re packing up, the two of you are seething silently, anger emanating off of your persons. Donghyuck jostles you on purpose on your way out of the room, but before you can give him a piece of your mind out of Johnny’s earshot, he’s halfway down the hallway on the way to his next class. Still, you train all your angry thoughts in his general direction, praying he’ll trip and fall flat on his face, or something.

Jeno, who’s just walked out of the classroom next to yours, makes his way to fall into step beside you as he always does. He follows your red hot gaze towards Donghyuck, who’s currently leaning against a locker and talking to Renjun. 

“You shouldn’t let him bother you so much,” Jeno finally says, and you roll your eyes before looking up at your friend. “It gives you too much grief.”

“He shouldn’t be bothering me so much.” You counter, and a small smile crosses Jeno’s face as he shakes his head in both amusement and disbelief. 

“I guess you aren’t wrong.” He acquiesces as he pulls open the door to the chemistry classroom, letting you walk in before him. The two of you share a lab table and you pull his stool out along with your own as you orient yourself.  

“I still can’t believe you and him are friends,” You tell Jeno as he sits down beside you. “You’re so you and he’s so… him.”

“We have, like, 90% of our interests in common, (Name),” Jeno laughs, knocking your shoulder with him. “If the two of you stopped going at each others’ throats for even a moment, you might even learn to like each other.”

You can’t help the fake gagging noise you make at the suggestion, and your friend rolls his eyes at you, though not before laughing. As the rest of your classmates start filtering into the room, the two of you switch smoothly to another topic of conversation - “Can you believe Moon’s making us do all of the play stuff this year?” “I don’t know, Jeno, it seems kind of cool to me.” “I mean me too, but damn… imagine the hours I’ll be putting into set design this year.”-  all thoughts of the devil himself banished from your mind. 

Act I, Scene III: Murphy’s Law 

You’re almost at the door, deep in conversation with Hyunjin about a protest she’s planning when Mr. Jung calls your name, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Yes?” You ask after motioning for Hyunjin to go on to lunch without you. You haven’t done anything wrong that you can think of - not recently, you note, remembering the time you really had almost set Jeno on fire - so you can’t help but be confused about why he needs to talk to you. Before you can ask, your teacher holds out a slip of paper for you to take.

“The note Jaemin delivered earlier is for you. He said it isn’t urgent, so I figured I’d send you during lunch instead of during class.” 

You relax your shoulders almost instantly before taking the bright orange piece of cardstock from Mr. Jung’s grip. You head out of his room - though not before thanking him - and unfold the note immediately after walking into the hallway. 

Please come see me at your convenience! - Moon :)

♕ ♕ ♕

You get to the black box room before Mr. Moon does, causing you to lament not buying your lunch before coming to meet him. As you wait, you pull out your book, determined to at least do something with your time at the moment. Katherine and Petruchio are in the midst of hurling insults at each other when the sound of footsteps startles you out of your book, and you lay it down beside you just in time for Donghyuck to walk in and drop his backpack onto the floor by the door, his eyes trained on the phone in his hand. 

Wait.

Donghyuck?

“What the hell are you doing here?” Your tone is biting at best. He looks up from his screen in surprise, though his expression quickly morphs into one of clear disdain once he sees that it’s you who’s speaking. 

“Got a message from Moonie. What the fuck are you doing here?”

You hold up your orange slip, only just noticing the identical one hanging between two of his fingers. His eyes dart down to his own again before back up at you, seemingly still waiting for a response. 

“Same here.” You respond, and he sneers at you. Donghyuck looks like he’s about to say something - likely hurl an insult that’s completely unrelated to the situation - but, with spectacular timing, Mr. Moon walks in through the door, a large soda in one hand and a fast food bag in the other. Donghyuck finally sits down, his backpack still by the door. 

Your theatre director places his food on the desk in the corner of the room before leaning against it, placing his hands against the edge of the table for balance. He surveys the two of you, both of you on different sides of the room, for a moment.

“I guess you’re wondering why I’ve called you here,” Moon finally says, his words directed at you both. You nod while Donghyuck says a quiet “Yep.”, neither of you looking at one another. Moon nods himself before pushing himself off of his desk, reaching over to grab ahold of his rolling chair. 

“Come,” He looks at both of you, nodding towards the center of the room. “Bring your chairs in.”

You stare at your director for a moment before sighing, careful not to let Mr. Moon see you rolling your eyes. Reluctantly, you stand up, grabbing your chair and moving to sit in front of him. Donghyuck follows suit, managing to put as much distance as humanly possible between you while staying close enough that Mr. Moon won’t reprimand him. 

“You both know how your Theatre IV class is meant to be the ones writing the musical itself, right?” 

The two of you nod, and you can’t help but wonder what direction Moon might be going in. There’s thirteen people in your class - why is it just you two he’s called in?

“Out of everyone in the class, you two are the only ones that aren’t either tech theatre students or double dipping when it comes to fine arts.” Your director continues, his words coming out slower than usual. It almost feels as if he’s trying to force the two of you towards the conclusion rather than telling you what he means to himself. Still, you know your expression is one of confusion. Mr. Moon winces almost imperceptibly before sighing and leaning back, rolling back-and-forth ever so slightly with his chair. 

“When it comes to this year’s musical, students can only work with one of the departments, because having anyone work on two parts of it would be way too much work,” He finally says, leaning towards you and Donghyuck again. Silence falls over you as you furrow your brow, trying to figure out what Mr. Moon might mean. 

It hits both you and Donghyuck at the same time. 

“There’s no way I’m working with just him -”

“Moonie, c’mon, do you really hate me this much -”

“Stop.” Moon says, his voice rising easily in volume. He puts both of his hands up in emphasis, and you realize you’ve leaned further forward than you’d realize. You settle back into your seat, though not without returning the scowl Donghyuck is sending you. 

“If I didn’t think the two of you could do it together, I would’ve just written the damn thing myself,” Your director says, glancing sharply at both of you before continuing. “You’re my two best students - you both know this. I’ve seen you put your differences aside to act together on stage. This shouldn’t be any different than that.”

You stare at Mr. Moon for a long moment, weighing your options. You can say no, you know you can - though he’ll advise strongly against it, Moon will ultimately let you back out of the musical’s production if you ask - but your ego refuses to let you. That, and you’d been genuinely excited to work on it before, and you’d rather die than let Donghyuck, of all people, take something you care about from you. That, and you don’t trust him to write a good play worth performing. You’ll be damned if the fine arts department has to count on him in the end. Hell, you’ll write it by yourself if you have to.

“Fine,” You say, raising a hand up to rub your temples out. “But I’ll only play nice if he does, too.”

“You act like I’m the one who finds it difficult to interact normally with other people.” Donghyuck scoffs, and you shoot him a sharp glare. He returns it evenly for a beat too long before finally tearing his eyes away and hanging his head. You watch as he runs a hand through his hair and throws his head back, groaning loudly as he does so, almost as if it pains him to say his next words. When he finally looks forward at Moon again, he sighs before speaking.

“I’m in,” He declares, throwing you an unreadable look. “Let’s get this over with.”

Moon’s face lights up immediately, and, for a moment, you don’t regret what you’ve just agreed to.

“Brilliant!” He claps, standing up from his chair. “We can discuss it together as a group during our next class, but I’m glad we have this sorted out. Now,” He says, moving his chair back over to his desk before settling back down in it. “I have to eat lunch, and I’m guessing you both do too. Scram.”

You get up, placing your chair back from where you got it before gathering your things. Donghyuck avoids looking at you, and you return the courtesy. He gets to the door right before you do, stooping down to pick up his back. Both of you wave goodbye to your director before stepping out into the hallway. 

“When should we meet to talk about the planning and shit?” You ask, keeping your tone as steady as possible, though you know your eyes tell your feelings. Donghyuck rolls his eyes outright. 

“How about we figure that out in class? I’ve talked to you enough for the time being.”

You make a sound of disbelief, flipping him off as he turns to walk away from you. 

“You’re a grade A dickwad!” You call, staring at his back. 

“Whatever, you frigid bitch!” He yells back, not bothering to turn around and look at you. 

You sigh once he’s out of sight, dropping your head into one of your hands.

This is going to be a lot harder than Mr. Moon thinks it’ll be.

[solecize]

EIGHTEEN FOREVER - PT 1.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. it all starts off when the bad boy greaser with a heart of gold, wong yukhei, almost runs you over with his beat up chevy on your way to school. your love story is immortalized through pen and paper, midnight ink and bloodstained envelopes spanning months on end. the sixties are a time of freedom and heartbreak—the time of your life. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. lucas x reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. period au (1960s)  / high school au / slice of life / fluff / angst 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. mature language, alcohol use, violence, drug use, light sexual references, mentions of death, themes of war, implied toxic family relationships, probably some historical inaccuracy but only if u squint 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 7.3k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. not proofread, as usual <3 all of the poems do not belong to me. in addition, smoking is normalized in this fic, in addition to slight tinges of sexism. i do not support either, but the elements were added due to the time period.

for the one with the pretty eyes:⠀ ⠀ 555-968-84 ⠀ ⠀ call me. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ (in the blue chevy in front of you)

on your side of town, graduating high school was as rare as a teenage male walking around with clean knuckles and hair that wasn’t slicked back with thick pomade. you were proud of yourself for making it this far, while all of your other friends dropped out early and had babies or began to work full time. books weren’t for everyone and not everybody could afford it. college was a long shot for most of the graduating class, or at least the ones from your neighbourhood.

“who are ya taking to prom, huh?” kunhang was relentless in sticking his nose all up in your business, bothering you for weeks on end about your date. he began kicking the passenger’s side from the backseat to annoy you further and you flipped him off with a growl.

sicheng watched the two of you with a snort, muttering something about you two being geeks and proceeded to kill the engine of the car, once finding a suitable spot at the drive in.

you rolled your eyes. “why do you keep assuming that i’m even going? why’re you going?” kunhang was your only friend who was going to be graduating at your side.

“because i can. i think that’s more than enough of a reason.”

just a fraction of the kids you knew from your neighbourhood attended prom, most preferring to hit the watering holes to party with fake ids rather than stand under hot lights and drink bland punch. then again, only a fraction of those kids had the privilege of being able to go. however, the event was a waste of time, if anyone asked you.

“i have other things to worry about,” you retorted. “like exams.”

you carried a lot of pride on your shoulders. you were the only child in your household to make in this far in academics, with your mom long gone in the cooler behind bars and your father leaving this world when you were young. your older sister lived the glamorous housewife life and barely spoke to you, turning her nose up at the family that she left behind for fortune. it was just you and your older brother fending for yourselves in that tiny house that was always empty, with you constantly out and your brother always working out of state for his truck driving job.

“it’ll be a gas, c’mon,” kunhang began to pout. “i’ll even let you dance with me.” between the girls that nearly broke their necks whipping around to get a good look at him in the school hallways, you doubted he would be able to.

pretending to gag, you replied. “ew, no.” you laughed and exited the mustang to avoid him swatting at your arm.

the clementine sky was just about dipping into the horizon, brightening the small lot with warmth and comfort. chatter and laughter wafted in the air, along with cigarette smoke and the hug of youth. june’s summer beast was just about creeping in, as other attendees pulled up in miniskirts and wife beaters to beat the heat to a pulp. it was the perfect evening for a crappy movie and an ice cold coca cola.

sicheng teased, “i’m surprised you’re even making it out of that hellhole with a diploma, much less going to the prom.” he poked kunhang’s side and the other male yelped, pulling him into a headlock as the three of you walked. you rolled your eyes.

weaving through the crowd of people making their way back to their cars, you were heading towards the concession area with the boys. as always, sicheng insisted on arriving just a little bit later because he liked being parked far away from the screen.

you were lost in the thoughts of buttery popcorn and a cream soda when you stopped in your tracks, frozen. sicheng and kunhang noticed this, having just released each other in their psuedo fight, and looked at you strangely. you wanted to facepalm yourself.

you exclaimed, “aw, fuck, we’re a whole buncha idiots. we forgot!”

the two boys looked horrified, as they slowly realized what you all had done. immediately, your group scurried back to sicheng’s mustang and tried to avoid shoving into people. the outing had just begun and the last thing you needed was kunhang’s hothead smacking into someone’s jaw.

“chenle! chenle, you good, buddy?”

upon closer inspection, you could hear the sounds of thumping up against the inside of the mustang. sicheng nearly fell over when he reached for the trunk, heaving it up to reveal the red-faced younger male. he dramatically gasped for air and you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

sicheng’s body folded and doubled over, as he tried to catch his breath in laughter. “holy shit! dude, you fucking idiot!”

“me?” kunhang was wiping tears from his eyes, body rumbling with his snickering. “who’s idea was it to bring the kid?”

you loved having chenle around, your younger wisecrack of a neighbour who often tagged along with the three of you. he was an absolute ball of sunshine. unfortunately, being the youngest meant being the butt of everyone’s jokes.

obviously, the boys meant no harm, but you were the one with the softest heart between all of them and was far more gentle towards him. “aw, we’re really sorry, chenle,” you managed to sputter out between your laughter.

“why do i always end up going in the trunk?” chenle frowned, shoulders drooping. “and i ain’t a kid!”

and of course, chenle and kunhang began shoving each other, albeit playfully at the very least. you sighed and came to the conclusion that you were friends with a bunch of goddamn zoo animals and that you needed some female friends. they stopped when you yelled at them to knock it off.

sicheng replied, “sorry, buddy. you’re the smallest one, so you luck out.” of course, it would never be him because it was his car, even though he was the bright one who suggested hiding one of you in the trunk to avoid paying for an extra ticket.

“can we just get our popcorn now?” chenle had officially given up, though his pout stained his face.

you all murmured in agreement, though everyone shared the same shit eating grins for accidentally abandoning chenle in the trunk of the mustang. he continued to claim that he was suffocating the entire time, as you lost yourself in the daydream of a refreshing drink from the concession stand amid the intense humidity.

then, kunhang called your name and that’s when you realize you’d walked ahead when everyone else stayed behind.

the three boys were inspecting something on the windshield of the mustang. sicheng remained neutral, so you figured it couldn’t have been a scratch or crack or something. you jogged over to peer over at what they were all looking at.

“when did someone leave this. . . .?” sicheng trailed off, trying to remember if he saw any figures approach in car. it must have been right after they initially left.

it was a piece of lined paper, likely torn out of a notebook and tucked underneath one of the wipers. the handwriting was clear and you cocked an eyebrow. pretty eyes?

“wow, someone left a note for me,” kunhang grinned.

chenle cleared this throat, looking elsewhere. “uh, actually, i don’t think it’s for you, man.”

you followed his eyes, realizing that he spotted the said blue chevy. a handful of guys lounged around the back of the pickup, some you even recognized from school and others you just knew. there was the former football team linebacker, yangyang. your once upon a time lab partner, xiaojun. even your older brother’s best friend, kun.  there was ten, who worked at the ice cream shop that you frequented.

then, there was the one who was looking straight at you.

everyone knew yukhei, but nobody really knew him. he had a shield of mystery in between himself and the rest of the world, only truly with the same four guys at all times. that’s how you saw him as, anyway. otherwise, to the rest of your town, he was the bad boy with a heart of gold, the boy with witty retorts and the brightest smile that you’d probably ever laid eyes on. something seemed so off about the way he portrayed himself to everyone else, though.

of course, to the rest of the girls at your school, he was the top candidate on everyone’s list for a prom date. you knew that enough, from the explicit whispers from girls that you overheard in the middle of class. everyone wanted him.

that’s why, if he hadn’t locked eyes with you, there was no way in hell you’d believe that yukhei wrote that note for you.

the idea scared you and you weren’t thrilled by the possibility of having wong yukhei. that’s why you immediately crumpled up the notes and tossed it to the side. he watched your every move as you did so.

after all, yukhei nearly ran you over the week before and he clearly could not remember your name.

the week before.

“are you out of your goddamn mind?!”

so, you were a little sleep deprived. you’d been up until the early morning hours finishing an essay worth a chunk of your grade, which shouldn’t have taken so long if it weren’t for the fact that you had to deal with the constant distractions that were your friends. at some point, chenle and sicheng dropped by and decided to make you cookies in the kitchen to cheer you on as you reached the end of the school year—obviously, that escalated into a disaster. you spent a few hours cleaning before you could finally kick the two knuckleheads out of your home.

that morning, you literally rolled out of bed onto the floor when you woke up. this was upon realizing that you slept through your alarm clock for school, snoozing off into the deepest sleep of your life after finishing your assignment. that’s how you found yourself sprinting from street light to street light, hoping to at least make it before the end of second period.

then, there was the baby blue chevy pickup speeding in like lightning from your left. you honestly should have heard it from a mile away, with the gurgle and sputter of an engine humming the disgusting tune louder than anything else on the street. however, you were too lost in the daze of fatigue and trying to remember if you packed yourself a lunch.

you noticed the truck a little too late, as it was a few away from you before you yelped and attempted to hop away, but ended up landing straight on your bottom. the impact nearly knocked the wind out of you and you braced yourself for the crash. thankfully, the driver had enough sense to come to a screeching halt, just about to touch you. this is when you yelled at the male behind the wheel.

the features of his handsome face knitted together. “aw, shit, shit shit—are you alright?” he yelled.

it took half a second to process what just happened, ignoring the stinging ache oozing in your backside. you took a sharp inhale and everything exploded like a volcano. shooting right up in a sitting position, you were met with the eyes of wong yukhei.

“do i look alright?” you snapped and he opened his mouth to reply, but you didn’t let him get even a word out. “you almost killed me, running that stop sign! i’m freakin’ exhausted, probably got three hours of sleep and i had to deal with my brother’s idiot cat almost clawing my eyes out on my way out! i’ve been running for forever and my legs ache like hell and i have to go to work straight after school! and. . .and, worst of fucking all, i’m late for school!”

yukhei simply blinked, staring back at your state, with dark crescent moons slapped underneath your eyes and your chest heaving for air. you were, in all simpleness, a mess. he smiled slightly, running a hand through his precisely twirled up, slicked up hair.  you narrowed your eyes at his response.

he simply replied, “you wanna hop in?”

“i—what?”

“c’mon sweets, i’m sorry. i fucked up, at least let me give you a ride to school,” yukhei said, unbuckling his seatbelt. he began to exit his vehicle, gliding over to you and extended his hand. a smile remained on his lips and your head started to spin.

that was definitely not the response you expected. the only reason you went off on him so harshly was because you were used to dealing with the idiot hoods from your block, who seemed like they were raised without a lick of manners in the very few braincells in their heads. as a woman, you knew that you were going to automatically be treated lightly and built strong walls for that very reason. to have yukhei respond with such quietude was foreign to you and you felt a weight drop at the pit of your stomach for your reaction.

reluctantly, you grabbed his hand and he helped heave you up. you stumbled slightly once you rose a little too fast and you instinctively grabbed for leverage, which happened to be a handful of his leather jacket. yukhei didn’t seem to mind, though, which astounded you because other guys like sicheng and kunhang carried their leathers like their pride and joy, with even the slightest crinkle driving them mad. you apologized regardless.

yukhei attempted to steady you, both hands on either side of your shoulders. “s’okay, no worries. you kinda took a hard fall there.”

you gulped down the ball forming in your throat, trying to look anywhere but into his deep brown eyes. these were the same eyes that girls cursed for tearing into their hearts and bringing on permanent cracks. the same eyes that girls cried over in the washrooms at school. school. you were late for school.

“um, yeah, let’s. . .let’s just go.” you’d been counting time in your head since leaving your front door and knew exactly what time it was, but you still pulled up your sleeve to glance at your watch. anything to avoid looking into his eyes.

something must have creeped in under your skin and taken control of your muscles because you were not the type of person to get into a stranger’s car. alright, wong yukhei was no stranger, but he had a reputation that you were well aware of. it was just as bad. or maybe it really just because you were—

“—late for school again, but i guess i’m used to it and you’re not,” yukhei had been saying, but you were zoned out and had just opened the car door.

it seemed to had only occurred to you then, but you sometimes forgot that yukhei still went to your school. he had a distinct group of friends that he spent time with, all of which had dropped out quite some time ago. he never really struck you as the academic type and as far as you could remember, you never ran into him in the hallways or in class. the only reminders of his existence in the place were the indecent fantasies written about him on the inside of the girls’ bathroom stalls.

“you sure you’re okay, y/n? it is y/n, right?” yukehi glanced over at you from the driver's seat, roaring life back into the pickup with the turn of his key.

you thought you heard incorrectly, but then he repeated it. yukhei actually knew your name and it wasn't just because he was this popular boy that all the girls went after, but you were in shock be ause you'd never even exchanged words before as far as you knew. he seemed to read your mind and gave you a look that read "surprised you, didn't i?" with the raise of a single eyebrow.

yukhei continued as a further explanation,“i sat behind you in history class last year before i transferred out of it.”

clipping in your seatbelt, all you could reply with was, “yeah.” your eyes darted over to the way he mindlessly gripped the steering wheel with one hand, with a beautiful swirl of reds and blues staining his otherwise immaculate knuckles. he let the other one hang loose  out of the window. “you promise to drive safe?”

a goosebump inducing grin, one bright enough to outshine a sun, stretched across his lips. “yeah, cross my heart.” yukhei said this, even as booked beyond the speed limit. you didn’t say anything. “to be fair, sweets, you weren’t exactly lookin’ out when you were sprinting earlier.”

you awkwardly twirled the ends of your hair hanging down your shoulder, but tried to keep an annoyed expression. “i was counting on drivers following road signs, yukhei.”

he smiled even wider. “ah, so you do know my name.”

that was a pretty ridiculous thought, there was no way that he wasn’t just teasing. yukhei had to be even just the slightest bit self-aware enough to see the way he’s flanked by girls at school. he was popular, enough so that quiet kids like yourself who never talked to him knew him. besides, you all lived in a town where everybody knew everybody and chances are, their kids come to know their kids and so on. nobody escaped the little bubble and routine that you all settled in.

something tugged at your heartstrings, though, at the way yukhei lit up.

“what’s the story behind those bruises?” you finally said, cocking your head to the side.

“hmm?” yukhei murmured, as the sight of your school building came into sight. “oh. just a badge of loyalty. you know how it is.”

unfortunately, you did know. around here, boys seemed to travel in packs and each one had each other’s backs to the grave. some found it silly, but there was an air of unspoken understanding.

“some kids from the south side give y’all trouble?”

if you had to guess, you would have probably gone with the reason being yukhei’s hothead of a best friend, yangyang. there was one particularly bad outburst last month, when you and kunhang went to the diner after school, only to be interrupted by a fight erupting between yangyang and some rich kid from the south. of course, the prep had his boys with him to back him up and bring the fight outside, prompting yukhei and xiaojun to get involved automatically. you had watched in amusement from the other side of the window with your strawberry milkshake, as yukhei beat a guy up against his own car.

“not me, my little sister. that shit don’t ever sit right with me, runnin’ their mouths on an innocent girl like her.” something in your brain clicked and you remembered that yukhei had a kid sister, only because she was in chenle’s grade and he used to have the biggest crush on her. “it’s just the two of us and our grandpa, so i feel extra responsible for her.”

that was the way your brother used to be with you, when he turned legal just before your mom got sent behind bars. you’d always have appreciation for him and in turn, you gained a new wave of respect for yukhei.

“what’s the story behind ms. honour roll being late to school?” it took you a second to realize that he was talking about you and you snorted.

you replied, “i’m surprised you asked. if i were you, i’d be scared of me going off on another rampage.”

“yeah, i’d bet you’d really get mad the second time. maybe even beat me up?” yukhei smirked, making sure you were paying attention to the fact that he’d obeyed the next stop sign they crossed paths with. you rolled your eyes.

“you’d end up just like one of them roman emperors,” you mused, watching a trace of confusion emerge on his handsome features. “c’mon, that’s from like the second week of our history class.”

yukhei merely shrugged. “i was too distracted.”

“distracted? by what, the teacher’s droning voice?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“nah, this real pretty girl that sat in front of me. so much so that i had to transfer out because i would have probably flunked out.”

before you knew it, he pulled into the parking lot of the school. before being able to announce the arrival, you’d already nearly ripped off your seatbelt and zipped out of the car, yelling a thanks as you scurried off with a deep rouge tinting your cheeks. there was still ten minutes left before the end of second period. yukhei only chuckled, watching you.

dear yukhei,

remember that first night at the drive-in? honestly, i thought you were a real fox. someone i had no chance with. the fact that you gave me a chance scared the hell out of me. you know how many restless nights i had, tossing and turning because i wanted to know why you chose me? out of the girls in the world, you made me feel like a goddamn diamond in a pile of dirt. i’ll never forget that. i’ll never forget the way you made me feel that summer, the first and last one we spent together.

love, your sweets.

after ignoring yukhei at the drive-in, you were positive that was going to be the last you heard from him. however, he still plagued your thoughts like a ghost. you had no idea why, but you knew that it scared you. it was the day after and you arrived to school early, trudging to your locker with a yawn. you thought your eyes were deceiving you, when you pulled open the door to be met with a note flying out of a random crook.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

and, to a lightning shock to the middle of your chest, you looked over to your side to find yukhei. he leaned against a wall of lockers, not even pretending to listen to the two girls talking to him. he was looking straight at you and smiled. you let out an exasperated scoff, wondering if you were dreaming.

you’d received a few more of these love poems before you decided to take matters into your own hands. or, really, it was chenle who forced you to do so. you didn’t dare confide in either sicheng or kunhang about your new admirer. there was no doubt that they’d turn their lip up at the idea of love poems, would probably go on and call yukhei some emasculating name. they also knew of yukhei’s reputation and were a tad over protective.

alright, a “tad” was an understatement. kunhang was furious when he realized yukhei was trying to make a pass at you at the movies and sicheng had to shove him back into the car to prevent a fight. it also seemed that it was so that he could find a different parking spot, away from yukhei and his friends.

although he began courting you from a safe distance, yukhei was not one for subtlety. you noticed that right off the bat when he boldly gave you his number in front of all your friends. the poems in your locker was another thing, as he was always just around the corner to ensure that you knew they were from him.

she walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes; thus mellowed to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies.

the latest of them, discovering the folded up note in your locker once again, had particularly swept you off your feet.

“what if he’s like this with every other girl?” you began to worry, fiddling with the phone cord in your hand.

you were seated in your living room one tuesday night, crossed legged on the ugly floral couch with a joint in between your lips. sicheng and kunhang left just minute prior, leaving you with chenle. he was watching television in your dad’s old armchair, in an identical position as you. neither of you were in the mood to go out, having being burned out by final exams. meanwhile, chenle made your house his second home when he couldn’t get a foot in his own door without his parents yelling at him for any reason they could find.

chenle snorted. “if wong yukhei wrote love poems to every girl he’s been with, i’m pretty sure we would’ve all heard by know.” he took a drag out of his joint. “besides, he only has eyes for you, even when he has other broads hangin’ off of him. everyone’s been noticin’ that the girls’ve been backin’ off of him lately, too.”

at this point, you were no longer scared of the idea of wong yukhei. in fact, it excited you. maybe it was the marijuana doing its usual duty, but you had a sudden surge of energy flowing through your veins.

reaching into the back pocket of your capris, you uncrumpled the first piece of paper that started it all. you hadn’t thrown out the note from the drive-in after all, recovering it just before sicheng insisted that you guys were to move. letting go on the deep breath that was imprisoned in your throat for what seemed like an hour, you slowly began to dial in the number.

“hello?” a familiar deep voice rumbled.

“hi,” you managed to squeak out and you gave chenle the middle finger when you caught him snickering. “i’m looking for yukhei.”

you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “this is him. who’s calling?”

“um, y/n.” you wedged the phone in between the side of your cheek and your shoulder, unconsciously beginning twirling a loose strand of hair.

there was a pause on the other line and you weren’t sure what to make of it, possibly disbelief. “oh. hi, sweets.” yukhei chuckled. “i see you’ve decided to give me a chance.”

“does this mean the notes are gonna stop?” you teased, but deep inside, you were hoping the answer was going to be a no.

he simply replied, “’course not. unless you say the word.” there was some fiddling on the other end and you could’ve sworn you heard the sound of a lighter. “when are you free?”

“you askin’ me out, yukhei?” you giggled and chenle rolled his eyes at you, throwing a pillow in your direction. you covered the phone with one hand, telling him to fuck off, before sweetly bringing it back up to your ear.

“how’s friday?” the male exhaled a little loudly—was he smoking, too? you wanted to feel a little bit powerful, so you convinced yourself that it was out of nerves.

you responded a little bit too quickly. “yes. friday sounds good.” swallowing down the realization, you proceeded to give him your address.

“good,” yukhei repeated after you, slowly drawing out the word like molasses. “i’ll pick you up at eight. see you then, sweets.”

the call ended and you sat as still as a statue. closing your eyes, you lost yourself in the daze of smoke and the thought of yukhei. were your ears ringing? the faint hum and static of the television faded out, as you leaned back into the couch with a stupid smile playing at the corners of your lips.

someone cleared their throat. you cracked one eye open and lo and behold, chenle was looking at you like you were a lunatic. in that split second, your face dropped back into annoyance and you hurled the nearest cushion in his direction.

“hey!”

“what?” you snapped.

chenle continued his earlier snickering. “guess that went well, then, huh? i told ya so.”

you put out the joint in front of you and proceeded to bury your face into your hands. your state of disbelief felt permanent, like you were stained with the thoughts of wong yukhei forever. without a word of warning, you began to screech uncontrollably and the younger male nearly jumped out of his seat.

“ahh!! what the fuck, y/n?!” chenle heaved, holding his hand on his heart like he’d been shot. he accidentally knocked over the bag of pretzels that he’d been munching on, spilling it all over the carpet. normally, you would have freaked out over the mess, but you were too entranced in the fact that you had a date with the most handsome boy in school.

that’s when chenle knew you were either: possessed or completely smitten.

the grin on your face was so wide that it hurt, but you blocked out the pain. “we have a date!” with that, you nearly jumped onto the armchair and hauled chenle in a bone crushing hug that left him without any oxygen.

“can’t. . .breathe. .  .” he was blue in the face at this point, struggling to even get his words out.

you giggled and released him, patting his cheek as he did so. chenle gasped dramatically for air, coughing as he did so. he shot you a glare.

“so, when’s the day of this stupid date?” he grumbled, settling back into his spot and began picking up his mess.

returning to the couch, you said, “friday. he said he’s going to pick me up.” you once saw that chevy of his as the devil machine, but now, you were swooning at the thought of it pulling up in front of your house.

“friday?” chenle’s eyebrows suddenly reached his hairline.

you gave him a questioning look. “yeah, it’s a little soon, but—”

“no, no,” he shook his head. “it’s not that. uhh, don’t you remember what’s happening on friday?”

you began to search your brain for any important dates, like a test or a birthday that you should’ve jotted down. “huh?” you came up empty and tilted your head slightly to the side.

“that’s prom night, stupid.”

if you hadn’t been hit with a ton of bricks before, this was an entire goddamn building raining down on you. wong yukhei had not only chased you with love poems and asked you out on a date, but he had asked you out to prom. this was really happening.

you didn’t give a damn about prom night, but you knew what it meant to other girls and it seemed like you just won a year long race between the class of seniors itching to get their hands on yukhei.

he wasn’t the only reason for your disbelief, but it was also the fact that you managed to get roped into attending prom anyway, after months of complaining about it. you groaned, lying down on the couch. this meant you had to go out and buy a freakin’ dress.

my love,

there are two times in my life when i was left absolutely breathless. the first time was when i first met you and i mean really met you. i always knew you in my heart. we were about fifteen when you moved to this town, this town that i’d grown to resent all of my life. i associated these streets with violence and hatred and i wanted nothing more to get away as fast as possible. i was hanging out with ten, loitering at the ice cream place, while i waited for his shift to end. that’s when you came in and you asked me about what flavour was best. i had a crush on you ever since that day, but could never seem to work up the courage to approach you first. yeah, i’m a fucking idiot, i know. i had those other girls following me around, but i could never quite shake off that feeling of, well, you. i’d never felt so damn. . .shy? when a girl made me feel that way, i knew you were special.

the second time was on prom night.

"ah, ah, don’t open that yet.”

you pouted and put the note back in its place, nestled in between the dozen of peonys. they were the colour of the sunset, a soft peach that brought butterflies to your insides. when yukhei had arrived to your front door with these, you nearly gasped out loud because they were so stunning.

the colour was identical to the sky above, as the clouds faded into one another and touches of navy loomed at the base of the point where the land met the heavens. yukhei’s windows were rolled all the way down and you let the wind penetrate against your being, caressing the locks of your curled hair. you’d applied an absurd amount of hairspray to keep it that way, so you weren’t concerned about the wind ruining the style.

yukhei glanced over to your side. “you can open it at the end of the night. promise.” the more you saw him smile, the more charming it became each time.

when the two of you pulled into the school parking lot, you immediately spotted kunhang and his scratched plymouth. he was leaning against the hood, sweet talking his date, some girl named meixiu that you didn’t know. probably an underclassman, you had no idea. he waved at you and probably just you, as you failed to miss the way his upper lip slightly twitched when yukhei exited his vehicle.

kunhang was the only person you guys were meeting, since both of your friend groups consisted of drop outs. you gave a polite wave to meixiu and gave kunhang a quick side hug. meanwhile, he and yukhei exchanged curt nods, as the parking lot began to reek of testosterone from the stares between the two alone.

“nice threads,” meixiu broke the silence, peering at your dress.

thankfully, you rummaged far enough into the last of your sister’s things that she left behind before moving out and came out with something decent. it was a boatneck satin dress with an empire waist and went down to just above your ankles. under the glare of the sunset, its baby blue hue contrasted beautifully. definitely pretty and saved you money and time. considering your lack of female friends, it would have been a real pain in the ass to have to drag either sicheng or chenle to a boutique.

“thank you,” you smiled at meixiu.

when you opened the door to greet yukhei, he had looked like someone just slapped him. he looked absolutely stunned and began drinking in the way you had dressed up, like an angel appeared in front of him and breathed the word of god. you were just as stunned when you were met with his put together appearance. you always had a soft spot for a tuff leather jacket and calloused hands, but seeing yukhei in a tuxedo made you rethink your preferences.

“wow,” the two of you had sputtered out at the same time and after a pause, began to laugh together.

meanwhile, kunhang merely blinked at your appearance. “turns out you’re a woman after all.” he yelped when you smacked his arm for that comment. “what? just because you walk around in a miniskirt doesn’t mean you’re a lady—” you hit him again.

“a pretty damn fine one at that,” yukhei snaked an arm around your waist and you relaxed slightly. “ready to head in?”

that baby blue dress. the way you lost yourself in the music on the dancefloor without a care in the world. my god, i wish i could capture that memory in my mind forever. i was still so goddamn shy and the only way i could express my feelings was through letters. some things never change, huh?

yours truly, yukhei.

the rest of your night was just as you imagined it would turn out. some lame music, bad refreshments, and glares from literally every girl on the dancefloor when they saw who you arrived with. all eyes were on the two of you when you walked in through the doors, though you knew it was partly out of curiosity to see who wong yukhei would bring to prom.

suddenly, you were beginning to be treated different. guys you’d never spoken to for four years cornered you into conversations that you had no interest in. girls complimented your dress and not in the way meixiu did, but like panthers sneaking up to stalk their prey. you nearly finished the contents of yukhei’s hidden flask out of annoyance.

“easy there, sweets,” he said, eyes wide when you slipped him his almost empty flask.

you laughed a bit. “sorry. i’m just slowly starting to get tired.”

“sleepy?” he asked, brushing a stray curl of hair out of your face.

the two of you were leaning on a wall, silently bopping your heads to the tune of the bluesy guitar playing throughout the school gymnasium. yukhei, you discovered, was a really good dancer. although shy at first, the majority of your night was spent on the dancefloor. you were sure you picked up on a few of his moves, even. you teased him about it on your way to the back, after he declared that he was parched.

“no, not that kind of tired. i mean, like—” you gave a quick side glance to a group of girls to your left that had been glaring in your direction all night,“—tired of that.”

it wasn’t as though you were overly concerned with the other girls, but it was really starting to get on your nerves.

“then, let’s get out of here?”

sure, the night was still young, but something twinkled in yukhei’s eyes and you knew that the date was far from over. you looked over at the crowd, not being able to find kunhang. he’d live if you didn’t tell him a goodbye. you shrugged and tapped your nails against your clutch.

“get out here, where?” you asked reluctantly, wincing as you did so. the last thing you wanted to do in that moment was make an assumption, but you also wanted to set clear boundaries before the night went on.

yukhei raised his eyebrows. “i mean, like, we could go grab a burger or somethin’. i’m starving.” he chuckled, but you smiled at his response.

“alright. i’m good with that.”

you didn’t even notice yukhei grabbing your head and lacing your fingers with his own—it just felt so natural. he gently led you back to the main entrance and you couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles ever so slightly flexed underneath his suit and the way he styled his hair into perfect swirls with gel and the crystal clear confidence in his eyes and—

“oh, ho, so you ended up working up the nerve to ask y/n out after all?” there was no mistake about it, that voice belonged to your old history teacher. it was the voice you heard in your nightmares, after all. “gimme some skin, yukhei!”

the old man sat in front of the entrance, where the tickets had been checked at the beginning of the night. presumably to catch any drunk teenagers stumbling out of the gymnasium, he was the only chaperone outside of the main floor.

you furrowed your eyebrows together. yukhei awkwardly shook hands with the teacher. then, you remembered what yukhei had told you before when he gave you a ride to school. your lips parted slightly.

“you stole away one of my favourite students, you know that, ms. y/n?” he continued.

turning to yukhei, whose ears began to transform into a brilliant bubblegum colour, you said, “you weren’t joking about that?”

“why would i be joking?” yukhei chuckled.

you paused and shrugged. “i dunno. i thought it was just one of them cheesy things guys say. like you were just trying to make me swoon or somethin’.”

“what? aw, c’mon, sweets, i can do better than that!” yukhei exclaimed and poked your side, causing you to giggle and yelp.

your old history teacher rolled your eyes at the two of you. “just go on, go home!” he began shooing the two of you away like some puppies.

yukhei continued leading you out of the building, only until you stopped in the middle of the parking lot when you heard a familiar song. it was unmistakable, you would have recognized the record from miles away. he froze, noticing the way you had done the same.

“are you alright?” he stepped forward, reaching out to touch your arm.

you felt a little silly, but you said it anyway. “they’re playing my favourite song. you think we could. . .?” you trailed off, hoping he would agree.

there wasn’t a guy you knew that absolutely detested the beach boys. sicheng whined like he was in pain every time you put one of their records one. you had to basically hide all of their music from your brother, taking them away from the main living room shelf in fear that he would eventually trash them one day. yukhei pressed his lips together, listening to the song—clearly he was no exception.

“you’re into these fools, too?” he teased.

yukhei began stripping himself of his suit jacket, placing it over your shoulders and you immediately revelled in the warmth and faint scent of his cologne on the fabric. the night had fully set in and a dull chill kissed your bare skin. under the moonlight, the man looked immaculate.

you scoffed. “they have good music!” and that they did, but it was something about the group that made you sway in place and felt like you were high on love.

“why don’t we just dance here?”

the parking lot was empty save for the two of you and the countless of cars. even the streets were dead silent and the only sounds in the air were the beach boys telling you to not worry and the soft rustling of the leaves. then, there was yukhei. his same damn charming smirk that seemed to have already captured your heart, but was not nearly as powerful as the thoughts he spilled out into words for you on paper.

you automatically wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands found a place on your waist, like the two of you had done this millions of time before in another life.

dear y/n,

you are the stars.

yukhei.

[dcforts]

[ring for an angel]

11k, half au, ao3.

Dean speeds up as soon as he spots the blinking Rooms Available sign half a mile away. The tires squeal on the wet asphalt as he makes a rapid turn and enters the parking lot.

It’s not a big place. Ten rooms or less, all ground floor. The blue neon sign on top of the short building says Feathers in a friendly font and has a pair of little wings and a halo to blink with it.

Pretty tacky, if you were to ask Dean in another moment. But right now, he doesn’t give a rat’s ass how the place is called. Right now, he’s got Sam slumped in the passenger seat, wet like a fish and shaking with cold.

They had an unplanned encounter with two vetalas they were hunting a couple of towns back. In the last few weeks the vetalas had lurked on a hiking trail, casually bumping into tourists to steal something valuable from them, only to attack them once they returned on their steps to search for it. Being the middle of winter, they’d been feasting undisturbed, favoured by the small numbers of people that braved the paths and by the sun setting early.

Dean and Sam waited the early hours of the morning to cross the police tapes and track them, but the trail was long, it was dark and cold and the vetalas had the advantage of being familiar with the grounds.

They hadn’t seen them coming.

They would have still managed to overpower them if only one of them hadn’t pushed Sam into a lake and fled and Dean had been too worried getting him out of the freezing water, to worry about the other one fleeing as well.

He got him quickly to the car, but all the motels they passed by were full, and every mile Dean had driven had seemed a mile too far and every second a second too long to have Sam paling and shivering and half unconscious in the Impala.

He had stripped him of his heavy jacket and shirt, draped his own jacket and flannel over him, trying to dry him as best as he could, and cranked the heating at its max, but Baby could only do so much. Outside the windows, it looked like it was about to snow.

Dean increasingly worried about the way Sam seems to slip more and more into unconsciousness. He tried to keep him talking, slapping his chest and asking him questions but for the last ten minutes or so, Sam had his head lolling on one side and his replies had become only barely coherent mumbles.

But they are here now. Dean stops the car and shakes him awake one more time; he touches his face, tries to meet his eyes.

“Hey, Sammy, look at me,” he says and Sam seems to make an effort to focus on him, “we are here. We’re gonna get you inside now, you hear me?” he says. “You just gotta hold on for one more minute. I’m gonna check us in and you’ll be warm in no time.”

Sam’s nod is weak and his pale face is not at all reassuring, but Dean knows it will do no good to stay in the car. He needs to get him inside.

So he braves the cold in only his t-shirt for the short jog it takes to get to the lobby. It’s a little inviting square of bright light. Mostly glass doors, which is an unusual choice for a motel, and especially not in a place of the country where it gets this cold. But the glass turns out to be thicker than it looks and the room, surprisingly warm. Dean finds himself exhaling relieved, as the door closes behind him.

The place is definitely new, all furniture is shiny clean and modern. In a corner, a few tables make up the breakfast area with a brand new model of coffee machine. Everything is in white, except the light wood counter right in front of Dean, that has engraved on it a replica of the blue sign that is outside. Dean only now notices that everything is angel and heaven themed. There are little white wings on blue wallpapers all around him that make the place look like a nursery. Behind the counter, there’s an open door that gives into a dimly lit backroom. But as far as humans, no one.

“Hello?” Dean calls, frowning and craning his neck to try and spot someone moving inside.

He turns towards the parking lot again and sure enough, it started snowing. Irritated by the delay, he approaches the counter and spots a little desk bell. It’s painted light blue and it says Ring For An Angel to match the theme of the place.

Dean hits the bell a couple of times but nothing happens. “Hello?” he calls, and he hits the bell again and again, nervously tapping on the wood with his other hand. He spots an open book next to keyboard of the main computer. Someone is there then. Dean doesn’t stop hitting the damn bell.

Come on.

How long a piss break can take?

He is about to shout “Hello?” again when, finally, someone emerges from the backroom.

It’s a guy about his height, dark hair and striking blue eyes. He is wearing just a white shirt and a blue vest with a tag that reads Steve and he’s carrying a steaming mug in his left hand. He lingers on the threshold, between dark and light and stands there, just watching him.

“Yes?” he says then, in a wary tone. His voice is deep and husky, as if he just woke up, and if you were to ask Dean in another moment, it was like the bow on an already rather attractive package, but right now Dean is too irked by his attitude to pay him that kind of attention.

What does he think he could he possibly want?

Okay, maybe aggressively hitting their desk bell and coming in from the snow with his arms bare and probably dirt smeared across his face, it’s not exactly the best first impression Dean’s ever given to someone. But who cares? He just wants him to do his job.

“I need a double for tonight. If you could make it fast,” he says, hastily. He ignores the way the guy just keeps standing there, watching him – he can be weird, but honestly, he’s seen worse – and fishes out his wallet to grab a credit card. He slams it on the counter.

“Make it two nights.”

Finally, the guy moves.

“I need to see some identification,” he says, placing aside his mug and exchanging it in his hand with Dean’s card. He studies it meticulously, looking at each side and everything.

Crap.

Usually at this time of night nobody even bothers with this. Dean has no idea whose name’s on the card he just gave him and he can’t really deal with this when Sam’s in those conditions back in the car. He pulls out one of his fake IDs and hopes for the best.

But of course the guy – Steve – does the opposite of giving it a once over, like anybody else would. In fact, the asshole holds the ID next to the credit card and, upon inspection, clicks his tongue.

He looks at Dean with a raised eyebrow.

“And how would you like me to register you, as Mr. Houdini or as Mr. Plant?” he says. He doesn’t look even a little bit amused.

Dean isn’t either. He clenches his fist and his jaw. He tries to keep calm but he just doesn’t have time to waste with this guy.

“Either works.”

“Not for me.”

“Alright, Poirot,” he bites out, “it’s my uncle’s card. Do you wanna call him in the middle of the night to check?”

Steve levels him with a hard stare.

“No, but I can ask you to leave.”

Dean pales. He feels the ground giving in underneath him.

“Jesus. Look, I don’t need this right now. I got a medical emergency. The card works, just give me the room.”

He knows he sounds distressed and as he hardens his tone and raises his voice, possibly a little scary, but he is just out of options. This is it. He doesn’t know what he can possibly do if the guy actually kicks him out of there.

The guy stays impossibly calm and that just adds to Dean’s anger.

“If you refuse to leave, I can call the police.”

“Damn it! I don’t have time for this.” he says making eye contact to try and get through to him. What is he, some kind of robot? Does he even blink? “You don’t understand. My brother is sick -”

“I could recommend another establishment three miles ahead. They are less selective with their guests. I’m sure they’ll be happy to welcome you.”

Fuck. Dean hits the counter with a fist so hard that the little bell shakes and a handful of business cards slide down from their pile. Steve doesn’t even flinch. Dean exhales heavily and tries to calm down. This isn’t doing any good.

“I can’t go any farther. Believe me, I would,” he says, matching his cold stare and trying to keep the volume of his voice in check. “My brother is outside in my car and he’s freezing to death,” he says, enunciating every word. Steve impassive façade crumbles a little. He looks suspicious, frowns and titls his head a little to the side. Dean keeps going, sensing an opening. “He can’t possibly go another mile in this snow. I can’t take him anywhere else. You gotta let me take him in.”

Steve blinks at him like he’s trying to understand if he is in fact out of his mind as he seems. “What?”

“My brother,” he repeats, still firm but now pleading, “he is soaking wet and unresponsive and I need to warm him up before he dies of hypothermia. I’m not lying, I’m begging here. I need you to do me this solid, man. And it’s gotta be now. Please,” he says, almost out of breath.

Steve searches his face with an inquisitive look for a long moment in which Dean can feel his heartbeat speed up. Then Dean sees him reach under the counter and he holds his breath. He may have a shotgun or one of those buttons that calls security or something. Instead what he holds up and slides over the counter is a room key.

“3 B” he says.

Dean exhales in relief, looks at the key, then up at him. In a second he’s grabbed it and he ran out again. The cold bites his bare arms but he’s almost at the Impala and he doesn’t care.

He opens the passenger door and lets Sam up, slinging one of his arms over his shoulders to carry him more easily.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy, come on, I need you to walk now, can you do that? We’re almost there.”

But Sam barely moves. “Sammy?” he calls again, more urgent now. “You gotta help here.”

Sam tries to take a step but his legs give out under him. “I can’t do it.” he says. “It’s too cold.”

“Course you can. The door’s just there,” Dean says, struggling to keep himself upright too.

Then he hears footsteps behind them and suddenly the weight becomes more bearable as Steve is holding Sam up from the other side.

“Come on,” he simply says, in response to Dean’s silent question. Dean sees that he doesn’t have his coat on either, he must have been right behind him. Dean nods and accepts his help.

Together they can easily lift him and get him inside. Dean leaves Steve to lower him on the bed closest to the door as he turns on the lights, checks the heater and starts a warm bath.

Then he is over Sam again, untying his boots and taking off his socks and addressing him gently but urgently to keep him talking. He feels Steve’s eyes on him the whole time, boring the side of his face. He has taken a step back and he’s watching them from the door with a thoughtful expression. Dean looks up at him and not unkindly he says: “I got it from here”.

Steve nods, catching the drift. He says “I’ll be in the office,” and slips out of the room, clicking the door shut behind his back.

*

Three hours later, Dean can’t sleep. He is sitting at a little table against one of the walls and he is watching over Sam, finally asleep on his stomach, clutching his pillow. He promised him he wouldn’t do that, but he can’t help it.

It took a warm bath, dry clothes, a long sesh with the hairdryer (and a half-fight about hair length), all the blankets in the room, a cup of tea – that Steve brought on his own initiative, knocking lightly on their door – two temperature check and a hundred or so questions about how he was feeling, but Dean is fairly certain that Sam is fine now.

Dean is also fine. He doesn’t feel his heart in his throat anymore. He is tired, but he can’t sleep. He will be able to really relax only when the sun will come out and Sam will wake up and he will be able to forget about all of this. If he goes to sleep now, he knows he’ll only have nightmares.

But his legs are feeling stiff and Sam’s snoring is not very entertaining, so he takes out some change from his jeans and heads out.

The jacket that he used on Sam is still hanging to dry so Dean has to make do with just an extra shirt. Thankfully the snow has let up and he is only planning on making a quick stop to the vending machine he saw outside earlier.

As he walks towards it though, his eyes are drawn to the bright light that comes from the main building across the parking lot. No one seems to be in sight but Dean now knows who’s there. And he also knows that he kinda owns him an apology.

So he pockets his change once again and takes off towards it.

As the glass door swings open and he lets a swirl of cold air inside, Steve looks up. He is sitting on a high stool behind the counter now, and has his book on his lap.

Dean greets him with a nod as the door closes behind him.

“Hey.”

“How is your brother?” Steve asks, same cold tone and deep voice.

Dean stops one foot short from the counter. “He’s gonna be fine,” he says. “Sleeping now.”

Steve nods and doesn’t offer anything else. “So,” Dean shrugs in the awkward silence, “just thought I’d come say ‘sorry’ about earlier. I’m not usually such a jerk. You really saved my ass though, so, thanks.”

Steve appraises him for a long moment and in the end he asks, “What happened to him?” again sounding a little suspicious.

“Slipped into a lake. Just an accident” Dean gets closer to the counter, and clumps his hands together on the wood, trying to make it sound like it’s not a big deal. "He’s a little clumsy."

Steve’s frown deepens. “Why didn’t you bring him to an hospital?”

“It would be a little difficult to explain.”

“What would be?”

Dean tilts his head on one side and sighs. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you and you wouldn’t even wanna know, trust me.”

Steve doesn’t seem like he trusts him even one bit. In fact, he doesn’t seem to appreciate at all his evasive answers.

“If it makes you feel any better, we’re not bad guys.” Dean adds, going for charming, trying to melt the ice a little.

Steve still looks at him unimpressed. “That is exactly what a bad guy would say.”

And somehow the stark contrast between what he said and the way he said it makes it sound funny even if Steve didn’t intend to. Dean lets out a laugh and seeing him throwing his head back, one corner of Steve’s mouth tilts upwards ever so slightly.

The air around them lightens up a little and for the first time Dean takes in Steve’s mussed hair and broad shoulders, his strong arms, his tights trapped in his jeans. Dean realizes he may have checked him out a little too obviously when his eyes snap up and unsurprisingly he’s being stared at. He covers up his embarrassment asking: “So, whatcha reading?”

But Steve doesn’t seem in the mood to indulge his curiosity. He ignores his question and stands up to stop right in front of him. Despite the counter between them the guy is suddenly at a distance that Dean would deem a little too close for comfort for a stranger, and from where he finds himself now, he is forced to look up at him a little. But there’s a challenge in the way he confidently entered his personal space and Dean is not going to be the one who backs down.

Steve keeps eye contact as he takes something from under the counter and drops it in the space between his arms, right behind his clasped hands. Dean looks down: it’s his wallet.

“You forgot your personal effects.”

The wallet is closed and the credit card and ID have been put back inside, meaning that with every probability Steve has seen all the other stolen credit cards.

Dean is taken off guard but he’s determined to not give him the satisfaction of seeing him bothered, so he doesn’t move, says nothing and keeps challenging his gaze. Steve has an unreadable expression on his face, but judging from the lack of sirens swarming the place he hasn’t called the police. At least, not yet. He is staring at him as if he’s trying to see inside of him and from that distance, the intensity of his blue eyes make Dean’s skin tingle.

“I charged the room to your uncle,” Steve speaks again. "One of your many uncles apparently.”

Dean does his best not show how uneasy he feels.

He grins: "Guess you're not very familiar with the concept of privacy," he mutters, sliding his wallet in his back pocket.

"And you must be very familiar with the concept of theft."

"Hey, that's a very offensive assumption."

"Just an observation."

"Alright, then why haven't you called the police?"

He knows that he’s pushing his luck, this guy could make a phone call right away if Dean pisses him off. But there’s something that tells him that he won’t. He leans more heavily against the counter and the distance between them shortens still. He briefly licks his lips and grins cheekily up at him.

"You can say it's cause I'm handsome," he adds, teasing, breaking the silence.

Steve recedes of a few steps. "Your brother needed help," he says plainly, resuming his position on the stool, “I wanted to help.”

“And I appreciate that. Is there something I can do to repay you?”

Steve frowns. “I don’t want anything.”

“Oh, come on, we are friends now.”

Steve stays silent.

“Alright,” Dean grins. “Then allow me to give you a piece of advice. If you wanna be successful in this business, you really need to cut it out with the third degree. Cause, one,” he says, holding up a finger, “no one likes a busybody. And two,” he holds up another, “people coming to places like this expect the situation to be a little more chill when it comes to paperwork and whatnot. They aren’t gonna appreciate you playing the Spanish Inquisition with them, you know what I mean?”

“I just want the guests to be safe. I’m not going to endanger them letting just anyone walk in.”

“You made an exception for me,” Dean says, and it’s meant to be playful but it hangs heavy in the air.

Steve doesn’t break eye contact as he says “I did,” like he’s asking him not to make him regret his decision. If Dean had a collar now it would be a good time to tug at it. Man, the guy can be a scary son of a bitch with those eyes and all.

“Well, as I said, I’m not here to endanger anybody,” he says, rolling his eyes. "Alright, look, I can answer some more question if it’ll make you feel better.”

“And you’re going to answer truthfully?”

“Yeah.”

Dean starts to relax as he sees Steve’s face lights up with curiosity and for the first time since they met it’s the kind that it’s not suspicious, just genuinely interested. Then with a hint of saracasm, Steve asks, “Why are you here?”

“Working.”

“You and your brother are in the same line of business?”

“Yeah.”

“Which is?”

Dean stays silent, looks down at his hands, smirking slightly.

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Let me guess. You’re not going to tell me because I wouldn’t understand nor wanna know.”

“Well, it’s true.” Dean shrugs in his defence. “But, it’s not what you think.”

Steve doesn’t press further but says, “He is your little brother, right?” Dean frowns a little and Steve adds, gentle: “You seemed very caring.”

“Yeah, well, it’s just us. We look out for each other.” He clears his throat. Steve must sense his uneasiness because he lets this one drop as well.

"Is your car stolen?" Steve asks then, out of the blue.

"What? No!” exclaims Dean, shifting on the spot. “That’s my baby. We’ve been together forever." He sounds outraged and Steve seems amused by it. “It’s a family car,” he grumbles, settling down.

“Do you carry a gun?”

Dean opens his mouth but no lie comes out of it. He gives him an apologetic look. "Generally, yeah."

Steve looks at him sternly. “Did you have one on you when came in the first time?”

“No, Jesus, who do you think I am?”

“I don’t know. You won’t tell me.”

Dean sighs and then plasters a big grin on his face. “My name is Dean Winchester, I’m from Lawrence, Kansas and I’m a Sagittarious. That’s it, really, it’s all there is to know.” 

“Somehow I doubt that.” Steve says but he has his lips stretched in a half smile and Dean is gonna take it as a win. “But it’s nice to finally know your name, Dean.”

Hearing him say his name makes Dean’s heart strangely flutter for a second. “So, you satisfied?”

Steve lifts a shoulder. He seems to have relaxed as well.

Silence falls then and fills up the space all around them. There’s only the tired whirring of the computer informing them that it’s still alive and kicking and the hands on the wall clock that ticks away the night.

Dean doesn’t like the bright light, it makes the place look like the reception of a corporate office but he likes the way it smells, sweet, sugary, almost like – candy? It’s nice and Dean doesn’t want to go back to his room just yet.

He looks over his shoulder at the rest of the space, the heavy carpet at his feet, the fake plant in a corner, and his eyes linger on the pamphlet rack on the far end of the counter, stacked with local spring events brochures and hiking trails maps. He picks one up and gives it a once over.

“I heard about the missing people. Pretty freaky, uh?” he says, casually. “Did you know any of them? Heard they were mostly locals.”

“No. I- I moved here recently.”

The hesitation catches Dean’s attention. “Hm.” he puts the map back on the rack and focuses on Steve again. “From where?”

“New York,” he replies, a little reluctantly, and that picks up Dean’s interest even more.

Dean whistles and settles once again with his elbows on the counter. “Must be one hell of a change.”

“It’s quieter.”

“Got family here?”

“Just my brother, Gabriel, that moved when I did. My other siblings stayed in New York.”

“So, how did you end up here, then?”

Steve sighs and shakes his head. “It’s a long story.”

“Got all night.” Dean shrugs, then still sensing resistance he insists. “Hey, I answered your questions. Seems only fair you do the same.”

“If you call those ‘answers’,” he retorts actually air quoting and it makes Dean huff a laugh. He is starting to really like the guy. He’s kind of dorky but he’s cute and Dean is not sure if he’s ever felt more at ease with someone he just met than he does with him right now.

After another moment, Steve speaks again. “When Gabriel and I left New York, we went on a road trip. We were passing through and had a room here. The place was in shambles; but for some reason, Gabriel fell in love with it and, just - bought it. I guess he saw the potential in it.” he recounts. A fond smile blossoms on his lips. “He can be – very impulsive.”

“So you got stuck.”

Steve shakes his head. “We invested in it together. I was happy to stay.”

“Well, from what I’ve seen, I think you did a bang up job with the place,” he says, “Might even see myself sticking around for a couple more days. If something interesting to do comes up,” he says and grins suggestively.

But Steve frowns. “I’m afraid there’s not much to do around here. They closed all the hiking trails because of the missing people,” he says thoughtfully, completely unreceptive of Dean’s flirtation.

Dean rolls his eyes a little. “Right.” 

“It’s better to visit during the summer. They even have concerts up on the mountains. They come from all over the world to see them.” he says and his voice gets a dreamy tone. “You get to meet all kinds of people.”

“Sounds nice.” he clicks is tongue and tries again. “So you brother is the owner, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then why is the place basically about you?”

Steve squints at him, confused. “How do you mean?”

“You know,” Dean grins and wiggles his eyebrows, “an angel.” Steve scoffs surprised and shakes his head as if he’s embarrassed to hear that, but Dean keeps going, “Helping me out even thought I didn’t deserve it. Trusting me. Giving me a chance when anyone else would have thrown me out,” he even throws in a wink.

“I would have never left someone to die out in the cold,” he says, but his cheeks are pinkier than they were a moment ago.

Dean gives him another of his patented dumb grins. “See? An angel in the flash right there,” he jokes and he even makes a show of ringing the little bell . “This must be the real deal. I mean, I rang for an angel and you showed up, didn’t you?”

Steve shakes his head again.

Dean leans over on the counter and lowers his voice. “Hey, you know what they say about freckles?”

“I don’t?” Steve says, surprised by the question. His gaze is drawn to the freckles all over his face and Dean feels his skin heat up.

“Well, you should look it up and let me know what you think then.”

They share a smile. The air gets charged and Dean gets a little dizzy. He bites his lower lip as his eyes follow the lines on Steve’s face, from his brow, his nose, his chin, along the line of his jaw covered in stubble and down his strong neck. Dean realizes he is shamelessly staring again.

With an almost involuntary intake of breath, he raps his knuckles on the wood. “Alright, uh, I should probably go check on my brother now.”

Steve nods, blinking rapidly, and he seems a little shaken too.

"And I should get ready to leave. My shift is almost over."

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Dean pulls back. “See you later, Steve,” he says, but all he receives is a confused look back.

“My name is not Steve.”

“Uh? Your vest says it is.”

“Oh,” he says, looking down at his clothes as if he only now remembers that he’s wearing them, “this isn’t mine. I’m just filling for someone else.”

Dean makes a pleasantly surprised sound. “Well, well, looks like I’m not the only one with a concealed identity after all.”

Not-Steve quirks his lips and says: “My name is Castiel.”

“Castiel." repeats Dean and he likes the way the name rings in his mouth new and unfamiliar. "Wait, so you’re saying you don’t work here?”

“No,” he says, “well, not usually. Only if they need me.”

“You know if they’ll need you tomorrow?” Cause I was kinda hoping to see you again, he doesn’t add, but Castiel must hear it anyway because he slighly blushes again.

“I have a shift at the library. Actually I should be opening in a couple of hours,” he pauses throwing a look at the wall clock, but then adds. “But maybe I can ask if Steve needs another night shift covered.”

Dean flashes his teeth. “Awesome.” then he eyes the clock above the counter too and sees that it’s five past seven already. He hasn’t notice because it’s still dark outside.

He makes a sympathetic face. “You are going straight to work after this? No hours of sleep?”

Castiel shrugs, “I’ll manage,” he says, but he hasn’t time to add anything else cause someone pushes open the glass door behind Dean and with a way too cheerful voice for that hour of the day exclaims: “I’ve got the kielbasa you ordered!”

A short blond guy comes in, carrying a big box that Dean instantly knows contains at least a dozen glazed donuts, and he can tell because his sense of smell when it comes to delicious food has never failed him. He feels his mouth watering and his stomach grumbles.

The guy says loudly and obnoxiously, “Good morning everyone!”

“Hello, Gabriel.” Castiel greets him.

“Cassie, what are you doing still here? I told you, you could leave early. You’re gonna be late for work.”

Castiel looks at Dean and then back at his brother, “I was with a guest.”

Gabriel follows the trajectory of his gaze and wiggles his eyebrows in an unsettling way, if you ask Dean.

“I see” he says, with a deep theatrical voice.

He rounds the counter and opens the box, angling it toward Castiel so that he can grab a napkin and a donut. Dean almost shouts “Ha!” as he discovers his predictions were correct. Those donuts look as delicious as they smell, and he can’t take his eyes off of them. He catches Castiel giving Gabriel an insistent look that prompts him to say, with a sight: “And does the gentlemen here have breakfast included, by any chance?”

“Yes,” Castiel says and Dean could kiss him right then if it wasn’t for the counter between them.

Gabriel rolls his eyes and open the big box to let Dean select a donut.

“And one for my brother,” he says, quickly snatching another before the lid closes on his fingers.

“Fine, two donuts! But now shoo Romeo, or Juliet here is gonna be late, and I’m the one they’re gonna blame,” he says, disappearing in the backroom.

Castiel wraps his donut in the napkin while Dean dives in unceremoniously on his. He watches as Castiel slips off his vest from his shoulders and starts gathering his things going in and out the backroom.

Then the glass door opens again and a petite dark haired woman walks in. She is dressed in all black and she’s sporting a pair of big dark sunglasses even if the sun is barely out.

She stops in her tracks as soon as she sees Dean. “Morning,” she drawls in a melodic voice, eyeing him up and down. Dean is on his second donut. Sam can’t miss what he never knew he had, after all.

He gives her a courteous quick nod, not bothering to cover his mouth full and the sugar all over his lips.

“Morning, Meg,” says Castiel behind him, and her attention shifts.

“Clarence, what are you doing still here?” she asks with the same phlegm, but Dean can sense a little exasperation as well, as if it’s something she often directs at him, “don’t tell me Gabriel is late again,” she is saying as she joins Castiel behind the counter.

“No, I was just about to go.”

She slides her sunglasses on her nose to look from Castiel to Dean and she keeps her eyes on him as she passes behind Castiel, making a show of trailing his shoulders with her fingertips. “Well, have a good day then, dear.” She says sweetly, disappearing in the backroom.

Castiel presses his lips together and gives Dean a somewhat apologetic look.

“She is a friend. And the bookkeeper,” he explains.

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Yeah well, you know what they say about people who wear sunglasses inside.”

Castiel looks at him confused.

“I don’t.”

Dean stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Forget it, another time, looks like you’re late already.”

Castiel’s eyes widen, “Right,” he says, as if he’d forgotten again that he was supposed to leave.

Dean downs the last piece of donut and eyes the coffee machine in the corner.

“Hey, coffee is free, right?”

Castiel throws a “Yes,” over his shoulder as he disappears once again into the backroom.

He remerges a moment later wearing a tan winter jacket and a wool beanie while Dean is still trying to figure out which damn button to press. Shouldn’t latest models be simpler? He turns back to Castiel who’s shouldering his backpack.

“How the hell does this work?”

Castiel huffs a laugh, grabs his car keys and goes to stand next to him. He quickly flips a switch, puts in place a paper cup and fiddles with the commands on the touch screen; the machine starts whirring. Dean realizes that they’re on the same side of the room for the first time in the whole night, if they don’t count the rescue mission for Sam. They are both looking at the coffee that is now filling the cup but Dean can’t help sneaking a glance at his profile, his straight nose and pink lips. He smells of some kind of sweet herbal tea and fresh snow, and Dean is inexplicably drawn to it.

The machine whirrs to a stop and starts beeping.

“Here you go,” Steve says, his voice low, and their fingers brush on the warm cup as he hands it to Dean. “Sugar?” he asks, now almost in a whisper.

Dean just shakes his head as if enchanted, and he kind of feels like he is, especially when Castiel smiles at him. It’s a pressing of lips but it reaches his eyes.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah.”

They both take a step back from each other like something just dropped at their feet and Dean realizes they were standing far too close than he thought. Suddenly, unprotected by the counter, he feels a little weird and seems like Castiel is feeling awkward as well.

He walks around him maintaining the distance, almost advancing on the side like a grab.

“Bye then.”

Dean nods and gives him an embarrassed wave.

Castiel hesitates with a gloved hand on the handle. He looks back at him.

“I’ll see you later?”

“Not going anywhere,” smiles Dean.

Castiel quickly turns around once again, and this time he pushes open the door and exits but Dean’s pretty sure he saw a smile on his lips.

He drinks his coffee and watches him as he walks towards his car. Then he loses him from his sight as someone in the room calls his attention back.

It’s Meg. She’s glaring at him, pointing at what Dean assumes are the donut crumbs that he left all over the counter. “How would you call this?”

She looks at him with her eyebrows raised, as she expects him to apologize but Dean goes towards the door and cheekily says: “A five stars breakfast. Thank you.”

Meg mutters something after him but he’s already out of the door and he can’t hear her.

*

Sam is still sound asleep when he goes back to their room. As the sun rises all the worries of the night before have disappeared. His encounter with Castiel has filled him with a lightness he can’t explain. He thinks it’s mostly sleep deprivation.

He takes a shower and when he gets out, he’s still feeling it. When Sam gets up, and he’s got glassy eyes, a nasty cough and a runny nose, and Dean argues with him to make it stay in bed – uselessly – but after that, he’s still feeling it. He even catches a nap as Sam showers and resumes his restless tapping on his laptop. And when he wakes up, he’s still feeling it.

Sam notices that there’s something different with him, because he keeps calling him back to reality, snapping his fingers and looking at him all weird as they plan what to do with the vetalas.

Dean insists Sam takes it easy and stays in for the rest of the morning – he complies, not without putting up a fight - while he drives back to the hiking trail. They fear the vetalas might have attacked again while they’ve been away, but there are no signs of them anywhere.

Which is still bad. If the vetalas skipped town they’re back at square one, and can only wait for their next attack, which could be anywhere, in a day or in a month from now.

But maybe they’re just staying low for a few days, thinking Sam and Dean will move on. Sam is really bummed out when they talk about it but Dean doesn’t think it would be too bad to stay around a few days more.

He gets back around noon to pick Sam up and go get something to eat. As they drive around Dean gets a chance to take a look at the town, the little shops, the tidy sidewalks, the nice little houses with their nice little gardens. “Hey, this place’s not so bad, uh?” he says.

Sam looks up from his tablet. “What?” he asks, like he was not paying attention. He sneezes. “Dean, we need to decide what to do,” he says then, but Dean is distracted by the tall building with the stone step they’re passing by. Hanging on the wall outside there’s a brass plaque that says Library.

“Uh?”

“Dean, are you okay? Have you, like, slept enough?”

Dean finally turns towards him, flashes him a smile. “You know what I think? I think we should look at some books,” he says, like he’s had a revelation.

“What?” Sam seems even more confused.

“Yeah, you know, get to know more about the local history, see if we can spot a pattern. Maybe these vetalas have been around for years. We should check for robberies gone bad too. I’m just saying,” he raises his eyebrows. “books always served us good.”

Sam opens his mouth but Dean cuts him off before he can retort.

“Let’s do this way. I’m gonna go to the library, okay? Do some digging. And I’ll see you back at the motel tonight and we’ll see what we got.”

“What? Tonight? Are you out of your mind?”

“Yeah, man, you know I’m a slow reader.”

“Seriously? You’re a faster reader than I am.” Sam is one bitch face away from losing his temper. He exhales, then says: “Dean, what’s going on?”

Dean rolls his eyes, but then he can’t restrain a smile, especially with Sam’s eyes that nags him to talk.

“Alright,” he concedes. He feels a blush rising on his cheeks and he keeps his eyes on the road to avoid looking at Sam. “There’s this guy – you know, the one back at the motel that helped us out last night.”

“Yeah?”

“He works at the library. Just thought I’d pay him a visit, that’s all.”

“And why would you - ” Sam cuts himself off and silence falls upon them. Sam clicks his tongue. “Unbelievable.”

So they decide over lunch that Sam is gonna drop him off at the library so that Dean can check the archives to see if there’s been attacks on different hiking trails in the area, see if they’ve got another habitual spot they might have switched to. Dean is paying for their lunch when on a whim also pays for a coffee to go.

Sam raises his eyebrows when he sees the coffee in Dean’s hand but thankfully he doesn’t comment on it. He assures him that he will keep his distance from lakes and other body of waters as he carries his own research, asking questions in tourist points in the nearby towns where hiking trails start and end.

The library is a small edifice of just a couple of rooms one after the other and Dean sees Castiel right away, behind the circular desk at the entrance. He is wearing a thick blue sweater, with a zipper down the front and snowflakes across his chest. It looks soft and warm and Dean wonders would it would feel like to press his face against it and how it would smell like, most likely of candy, fresh snow and herbal tea. Then he tells himself to get a grip because he is feeling way too happy to see someone he met less than a day ago.

Castiel is turned mostly away from the door and he is busy with a visitor so he doesn’t spot him right away. Dean hovers around the entrance, takes a peek at the newspaper rack by the door, until he sees the visitor passing him by towards the exit.

Castiel looks his way as he’s approaching him. He freezes in spot and Dean gets to see his eyes widen and his lips parting in surprise.

“Dean,” he says in a breath.

Dean flashes him a big smile. “That’s me.” He gets closer and confidently slips the coffee towards him. “Brought you coffee. For helping with Sammy and – not calling the police, I guess,” he says.

Castiel stares at the coffee and looks up at him again and Dean realizes. Castiel does look surprised – but not happily surprised. His gaze on him is intense and makes him shift on the spot.

Dean’s smile dims. Maybe he made a mistake, maybe he got it all wrong. Maybe it was all sleep deprived induced fantasy he entertained himself with? He tries to see it from Castiel’s perspective. He is a man who showed up in his motel in the middle of the night with a half dead brother offering no justifiable explanation, someone who then hanged around him till morning, flirted heavily with him and then followed him to his workplace. Okay, it sounds pretty bad put like that.

He tries to salvage his dignity, but he knows he looks as uneasy as he sounds when he says: “I’m not a stalker or anything,” he fakes a chuckle. “I didn’t come here just to hand you a coffee. That’d be crazy. Turns out I – I actually need some books.”

Castiel finally blinks and seems to deflate a little, looking relieved as he says “Oh,” and “of course. Right.” he even gives him a small smile. “You are in the right place,” he says awkwardly.

“Yeah” Dean takes a breath. Better cut this short. “So, can you point me to the local history section?”

Castiel doesn’t ask what he needs it for and gives him direction in a professional and practised voice. Dean’s got a knot in his stomach but still fakes a smile and says “Great. Thanks, Cas.”

He catches his eyes once again and he feels unable to move and unable to say anything and he suddenly feels like the heating is set on a little too high for him, still in his jacket.

Dean wonders how pathetic would be if he walked out of there saying “Let’s just pretend I never came in here.” Maybe it’s too late for that, but he needs to let him know that he’ll stay away, cause he caught the drift.

He says “Look - ” and at the same time he hears “Dean?”

Castiel precedes him in saying: “You first.”

“Uh, I was just gonna say that me and my brother are probably leaving town tonight, so – just – wanted to let you know in case you take that shift off of Steve.”

“And I wanted to tell you that I spoke to Steve and he needs the shift tonight, so – I wasn’t gonna make it either.”

“Yeah, okay,” it’s all Dean manages to say, already halfway turned to walk away.

“And thank you for the coffee. You didn’t have to,” adds Castiel quickly, as if only now remembering his manners.

“Yeah, no, sure Cas,” says Dean, and then ducks his head and makes his way to the local history section without looking back. He chooses the farthest table from the entrance and buries himself in old newspapers and doesn’t think at who’s only a couple of rooms away and the burning knot of disappointment in the middle of his chest.

*

A couple of hours later Dean has got absolutely nothing. Sam texted and he seems to have reached the same conclusion. A complete waste of time.

As he passes through the entrance to exit the library, his eyes dart to Castiel’s station but there’s someone else in his place. Dean doesn’t bother looking around to say goodbye, just takes the door.

The sun has already set and the temperatures have dropped significantly again. Dean is not in a great mood. He can’t wait to finish this job and get out of there and forget all about this town and this cold and those stupid vetalas.

More annoyed he is at the thing in his chest that since that afternoon has never dissolved. Whatever. He’ll never see him again and it’s not like it’s the first time that Dean’s been rejected.

Sam is waiting for him at the bottom of the stone steps. He is still wearing his FBI suit and his heavy coat and scarf but he’s got his hands buried in his pocket and his shoulder drawn together as if he’s still cold. As Dean approaches him he coughs a few time and Dean’s irritation for that case flares up again.

They talk again about how they don’t have jack squat.

Sam tells him in so many words that if the vetalas don’t show up soon they might as well move on. He says it tentatively and he seems taken aback when Dean agrees right away. “No reason to stay around,” he grumbles as they reach the Impala.

Sam opens his mouth to say something but he’s interrupted by a loud sound from an alley not far from where they are.

They stop, and stay alert, ears on. Another sound, then a muffled scream.

Sam draws out the gun from his inside pocket and moves quickly on the sidewalk towards the noise. Dean takes out the silver blades he got hidden in his right boot.

They move in synch and stealthily reach the alley. Just a look is enough to recognize the vetalas even with their back turned, the blonde woman that had thrown Sam into the lake and the young guy that had attacked Dean. They’ve got someone pinned against the wall and the man is whimpering and imploring them to let him go.

Sam shouts “Hey!” to catch their attention and as one of them turns around he shoots her in the chest. It does nothing to her except pissing her off, but Sam gets what he wanted, she hisses and lets go of the man to go after him.

That’s when Dean is able to see him clearly. That man is Castiel.

He sprints into action, white hot rage pumping in his veins and he wastes no time to grab the other vetala by the shoulders and rip him off of him.

Castiel’s eyes are wide and terrified. He looks in disbelief as the creature turns to growl and launch himself at Dean.

Dean shouts “Go! Run!” but he seems to be frozen in place, pressed against the wall.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the vetala hits him and he loses his balance, falls on the ground. He recovers quickly, rolls on his back and gets back up again just in time to tackle the vetala. They roll around punching and kicking each other until Dean finds himself pinned down, his knife trapped under his back.

He struggles to shake him off with one hand while with the other he tries to reach for the blade. The creature opens his mouth and he’s about to sink his fangs in his neck when Dean squeezing his eyes and pushing with everything he’s got, gets them to roll once again. The vetala is on his back, the blade now visible next to it. Dean quickly snatches it from the ground and buries it in his heart.

The vetala growls one last time as Dean twists the blade inside him and pushes himself up to watch the body whiter and crumble under his eyes.

He breathes heavily and looks back at Sam, who’s doing the same, catching his breath with a crumbled body at his feet. He meets his eyes and they nod briefly at each other, to let the other know that they’re alright.

Then Sam’s gaze flies somewhere behind his back and something twists in Dean’s stomach as he remembers that Castiel is still there, his body against the wall and his eyes frantically going from the crumpled bodies of the vetalas on the ground to Sam and Dean and back again.

“Hey, you alright?” Dean asks, shortening the distance.

“They had – fangs,” he says more to himself than to him, as if he’s still processing what he saw.

“You hear any ringing?” Dean asks, loud and worried, trying to catch his eyes.

Castiel lifts his gaze to look at him as he’s asking absurd questions.

“No.”

Only then Dean relaxes and looks back at Sam. “No venom.”

Castiel’s mouth is still hanging open: “Venom? Dean, what -?”

Hearing him speak his brother’s name, Sam’s gaze travels between the two of them and a look of understanding crosses his face. He takes a step towards him, and goes into his comfort-victim mode.

“It’s Cas, right?” he asks and Castiel’s wide eyes set on him as he nods. “Those were vetalas. They are creatures that poison humans and feed on them.”

Castiel scoffs. “Wha- how can there be such things?”

Sam shrugs. “There are all sorts of things.”

Castiel blinks as his world seems to be rearranging in front of his eyes.

“How did you - ” he looks between them. “How did you know they were here?”

“We didn’t. We were actually trying to track them; they must have followed us.” Sam says.

“You were tracking them?” he is in disbelief. “Why?”

“It’s our job,” chimes in Dean slipping the blade in his jacket. “We kill ‘em.”

Castiel looks at him and he’s silent for a long moment. Dean fights the urge of looking down, wondering what does he think of him now. Has this made his opinion of him even worse? In addition of being a stalker, does he now think he’s a killer and that he’s made a mistake trusting him with that key?

But Castiel just looks thoughful and in the end he just says, “You told me there were things I wouldn’t believe nor wanna know about. You were telling the truth.”

It’s not a question but Dean nods anyway and sighs in relief.

“You’re safe now.” he says and tries to lighten the mood. “So, can you stop going full Spanish Inquisition on us?”

Castiel seems to lose the last bit of tension he had left and exchanges it for a spark of annoyance and a challenging tone. “Well, I was about to die, the least you could give me is an explanation. What kind of job is that?”

Dean huffs a laugh. “That’s fair. Come on, we’ll give you a lift and fill you in. Where you headed?”

So they pile in the Impala while Sam gives their usual “hunters fighting monsters” speech. Castiel takes it fairly well. Or, at least, doesn’t start screaming or anything. He seems to have recovered from the attack fairly quickly too. Dean, on the other hand, feels weird with him in the backseat. Seeing him in the rear view mirror makes him nervous and smiley at the same time. Sam must sense that his unusual quietness means that something’s not right with him because he keeps sneaking glances his way.

But the whole thing at the library still burns and it’s made pretty clear what was what.

“It’s right up here.” Castiel says after not even five minutes on the road. “I told you there was no need to take the car.”

“Nonsense, you’ve just been attacked and it’s freezing.”

“Well, then. Thank you.” He says as the car rolls to a stop in front of a little house. It’s too dark to see it properly but under the snow, the front garden seems a little unkempt and there’s still a string of unlit Christmas lights with one end dangling from the gutter. Dean thinks it’s kinda cute.

Castiel pauses with one hand on the handle. “Are you leaving right away?”

Dean swallows. “I guess.”

“Oh,” Castiel hesitates, “so this is goodbye?”

Dean’s gaze darts towards Sam next to him. His brother shifts in his seat but doesn’t offer any lifelines.

“Yeah,” he breathes out.

Castiel meets Dean’s eyes in the rear view mirror and looks torn, like he’s about to say something. Then he seems to think better of it and just nods briefly. “Well, then, stay safe. And again: thank you. Both of you.” And with that, he gets out and walks away.

Dean doesn’t know what to do. He stares intensely at his hands on the steering wheel, with a sensation of wrong in his stomach. Every second is too long and not long enough to decide. Sam doesn’t ask what they’re still doing there, even if Dean killed the engine and it’s starting to get cold in the car.

But then quietly, with the corner of his mouth, he says: “He’s almost at the door.”

“Shut up,” Dean says, already reaching for the handle.

He walks quickly towards him, slipping a little on the snow covered grass.

“Cas,” Dean calls and he stops, looking curiously over his shoulder. Dean’s resolve falters, so he starts by saying, “Hey, mh, just wanna make sure you are okay.”

Castiel nods. “I’m fine, I guess I’ll need some time, but I’m fine.”

“Alright, well, I thought I’d give you my number, just in case uh -”

“Something else decides to attack me?”

Dean huffs a nervous laugh and looks at him. “Yeah. No. I mean, I don’t know, maybe you wanted to talk. Later.”

“I thought you were leaving.”

“Yeah, I was - I am. I am leaving. I mean unless…” Dean swallows, and just gives him a look that hopes it’s enough to finish his sentence for him.

But Castiel frowns and says “Dean?” and Dean doesn’t mean to be hopeful but he says it like he’s said it a million times before, like they’ve known each other for a lifetime and he only ever spoke this word to call him. Castiel squints and tilts his head to one side, “I don’t understand.”

Dean wants to laugh; they are so bad at this.

He steps closer. His fingertips are tingly with cold as he grabs the lapels of Castiel’s jacket and gently pulls him towards him. Castiel lets him. Lets Dean get so close that their lips touch. Dean kisses him slowly, sweetly. His lips are cold but soft and so close to him Dean can smell all the wonderful things he knew he smelled of. He pulls back to finally say: “I know I shouldn’t have shown up at the library today. I freaked you out, I didn’t mean to.”

Castiel seems windswept. His eyes are wide, his lips and cheeks bright pink. He cuts him off, shaking his head. “No, no, it was me. You took me by surprise and I wasn’t sure what to make of last night. This whole thing has been – weird.”

Dean smiles and leans closer once again to make their nose touch for a second.

“Am I making myself clear, now?” he whispers and Castiel smiles.

Dean feels ten pounds lighter all of the sudden. He lets him go, widens his arms, “Alright, then. Should we make it right? I can come pick you up in a couple of hours and we’ll go grab a bite or something.”

Castiel shifts on the spot, looks back at the dark windows of his house then turns again.

“Why don’t you just – come in now?” he asks hesitantly.

Dean’s mouth hangs open for a few seconds, then he beams up at him, nodding vigorously.

“Yeah. Or I could – do just that. Yeah. Sounds great. Just, uh, give me a sec.” he says and before Castiel can say anything else he goes back to the Impala to open the driver’s door.

“So, change of plans. You can go back to the motel, I’ll stay here.”

Sam’s eyebrows skyrocket on his forehead. “Are we staying another night?” he huffs a laugh.

Dean shrugs. “Sorry, Sammy. He is - ” he feels himself blushing, “I just gotta stay.”

Sam laughs again and slips in front of the steering wheel with an amused sigh. “Whatever. Don’t know what he did to you but as long as you’re sure he’s not a witch.”

“Nah, he’s an angel.” Dean says and that reminds him of something.

He ignores the way Sam rolls his eyes when he says Good night, Sammy and he goes back to Castiel who’s waiting for him.

“Hey” he says as they walk towards the door, “did you look up then, what I said about freckles?”

“Yes, and it was really cheesy. Like, very low level cheesy.”

“You liked it.” he teases, bumping his shoulder against Castiel’s. “I bet it made you blush and all.”

Castiel looks upwards in a matter than suggests annoyance, but he is pressing his lips together as if he’s keeping a smile at bay.

Dean’s heart makes a summersault. Man, whatever this is, must be powerful stuff.

+

 Dean comes back two weeks after they finally leave town and three weeks after that.

And then he just keeps coming back.

Suddenly it’s spring.

And Dean mows Castiel’ lawn and they go out with Meg and he gets so drunk that Castiel has to drive them home and Dean keeps nuzzling his neck and jaw, making it difficult for him to walk to the door and later in bed he whispers in his ear things he never thought he’d say to anyone like “I missed you” and “I think about you all the time” and the morning after he doesn’t even freak out cause Castiel said it back and it’s all fine.

So he keeps coming back.

And then comes the summer and Castiel takes a few days off from work and drags him up to a hiking trail but it takes them all day because Dean keeps stopping at all the perfect trees to snog against – and that’s every tree. And in the end they are sweaty and sticky and Dean’s body hurts all over and would take a nest of vamps any day over something like this, but the way Castiel smiles in the summer sunset makes it worth it. He snaps a selfie and sends it to Sam and Eileen and his brother writes back glad to see you happy. give cas my love.

And then Cas’ posh corporate dick sister Naomi shows up unexpectated one night and tries to convince Castiel to go back to New York with her. Dean hates her the moment she steps in with a face like she’s coming down from Heaven to set her rich foot on the smelly Earth, and she very clearly despises Dean’s everything, judging by the way her eyes slide over the room and stop on him when she tells Cas, “Look what you’ve become”. And Castiel throws her out shortly after that but Dean understands that even if he doesn’t regret it and Gabriel too calls to say, “So what? The witch is dead, good riddance!”, Castiel is still feeling like shit. So he curls up on the couch with him and when Castiel whispers “I’m sorry for that,” Dean holds him tighter and when he hears him sniffle quietly Dean says, “It’s okay. I’m here,” and strokes his back until he falls asleep.

And Dean keeps coming back.

Soon it’s fall and when Dean gets there he finds Castiel in the little garage attached to the house looking for the leaf blower among the clutter. It’s the first time he sees the space and he is assaulted by the thought that his Impala would easily fit in there, next to Castiel’s car. He doesn’t dare mention it but the thought nags at him all weekend.

And on his last morning, Castiel pretends he doesn’t hear the alarm going off, keeps his arm tight around him and looks sad when he hands him his cup of coffee for the road. Later he texts him it’s getting harder and Dean’s chest fills with rocks because he knows exactly what he means.

It’s getting harder.

One time when he’s walking to pick up Castiel from work to go out to dinner together, his phone pings and it’s a text from Sam saying Dean, you know I wouldn’t bother you if something something case something something we need you. can you?

He puts it back in his pocket right as Castiel comes out of the heavy doors and happily bounces down the stairs asking “How was your journey?”. He is about to lean in to peck his lips like he always does when he takes in his expression and pulls back, asks what’s wrong.

“I gotta go,” Dean says and he sounds miserable to his own ears.

Castiel face falls and Dean hates himself. But Castiel straightens up, presses his lips together and nods. He says “I understand.”

It’s getting harder.

One time, on the bathroom tiles of a smelly motel, Dean is grinding his teeth, trying not to scream as Sam sews a gash on his leg.

His brother looks up at him, his hands bloody, his forehead covered in sweat. They don’t have any booze left, and Sam was never the best of them in that kind of things.

“Don’t look this way, think of something else,” he pants.

And Dean closes his eyes and focuses very hard on the weight of Castiel’s hand in his, on the familiar smell of his couch and on his voice the last time he picked up the phone and said “Hello, Dean.” He focuses on the silhouette of his shoulder against the light of the sunrise when Dean wakes up before him. He focuses on the sound of Sam’s laugh that time he’d seen him wearing an apron at Castiel’s and then they all went down to that weird spring event and Sam had won a salt and pepper set with little bees on them and how it’s now sitting in Castiel’s cabinet. He tries to pretend to be in his kitchen, with Castiel in the other room calling his name and telling him to turn down the radio. He thinks about those things and soon a wound is closed but another is open.

It’s getting harder.

One time he calls Castiel after being tied to a chair and tortured for five hours. He is limping out of the warehouse, holding his phone against a bloodied ear and Castiel replies on the first ring. There’s music in the background and Castiel’s got a cheerful tone when he says, "Don’t tell me you’re here already. The potatoes still have fifteen minutes to go."

And Dean’s heart breaks as he tells him that he won’t be able to make it. On the other end, he hears just music for a while and when Castiel speaks again he just says “I understand.” But he sounds disappointed and Dean feels like shit.

It’s getting harder.

Still, he keeps coming back.

And it’s winter again and the front garden is covered in snow. Dean lets himself in with his spare key knowing that Castiel is still at work and toes off his boots at the entrance. He places the wrapped boxes he brought under the little Christmas tree that Castiel has left up for him even if the holidays have already come and gone. He turns on the radio and starts their dinner. A few hours later, as he hears the keys turning into the lock and he’s filled with anticipation, he realizes, not as a surprise but more as a confirmation, that he doesn’t want to leave anymore.

They eat on the couch in front of the tv, their plates balanced on their laps, one of Castiel socked feet bumping lightly against Dean’s calf.

The commercials start playing and Castiel is telling him a funny story about Gabriel when Dean puts his plate down.

“Cas,” he says, “I was thinking I could stay a little longer next time.”

Castiel gives his calf a little kick. “The whole week?” he asks, and sounds hopeful.

“Uh, was thinking, maybe more than that. I mean, if it’s all right with you, I -”

Castiel doesn’t let him finish. He puts his own plate down and surges forward to kiss him.

Dean pulls back because he starts laughing. “I still haven’t- ”

“You mean it?” Castiel cuts him off. He is serious now, stares at him, studies his face.

Dean throat is tight. He only nods.

Castiel kisses him again then smiles. “Dean, this is your home since the first time you came through that door. Of course it’s all right with me.”

Dean kisses him again and this time doesn’t let go.

 *

So, for the last time he leaves and for the last time he comes back.

He walks up to the door, carrying way too many bags with him.

He doesn’t take out his key, he rings the bell.

Castiel answers the door with a smile.

 ________

(* what they say about freckles: every freckle is a kiss from an angel.)

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Brooklyn 99 AU? If you haven’t seen that, just think like an Office or Parks and Rec-esque work sitcom

“Make Terry do it,” Santiago whispered.  “He’s good at babysitting.”

“Make Terry do what?”  Jeffords looked up from his yogurt, expression concerned.

The informal conference in the precinct break room exchanged a glance.

“We may have arrested a few underage tourists from out of town,” Peralta said.  “They may or may not have been drunk, but, uh...”

Peralta glanced at Boyle.  “But we left them unsupervised in the back of the police van for, like, two minutes,” Boyle explained quickly.  “So by the time we got the breathalyzer working, they were all sober.”

“They all puked?” Scully asked, appalled.

Santiago shook her head sadly.  “They all morphed.”

“Wait.  You mean...”  Jeffords craned his neck to look out across the main room.  He caught a glimpse of the group of kids currently sitting in the Nine-Nine’s holding cell, and his expression went slack in horror.  “No.  No.  No, Terry has not had nearly enough low-fat peach-mango yogurt to deal with this today.”

“They’re famous!”  Peralta made jazz hands at the rest of the squad.  “That’s kind of cool, right?  That Marco kid’s a movie star, Tobias definitely counts as a cryptid, and... the others... do stuff...”

“Yeah.”  Santiago crossed her arms.  “They kill people.”

“There was a war on!” Peralta protested.  “Aliens invaded, Boyle’s mom got possessed by a scary slug thing and tried to kill me —”

“She said she was sorry for mistaking the Sharing for a ferret-themed lomage fanclub,” Boyle said.

“Yeah, no, anyone could make that mistake.”  Peralta pivoted back to Santiago.  “The point is, they killed people as part of a war.  And that, like, doesn’t count or something.”

“What’d they do?” Jeffords asked.

"It was only a few murders,” Boyle said.

“Today!”  Jeffords gestured to the front room, where the delinquents in question were clearly sitting in their holding cell.  “Why’d we arrest them?”

Santiago pulled out her phone, calling up the relevant statement.  “They’re claiming they were provoked when, quote, ‘Some guy wolf-whistled Cassie, and then that guy’s biker gang objected to Rachel’s attempts to rip his arms off and feed them to him, and really it was their fault all along.’”  She looked up.  “Signed Jake Berenson.  Which begs the question: did we get ID from any of them?”

“They all morphed,” Boyle pointed out.  “Who else could it possibly be?”

“So that explains the entire cell’s worth of muscular guys with mild-to-moderate grizzly bear wounds downstairs,” Scully said, staring upward in wonder.

“That’s it, we’re all babysitting them,” Jeffords declared.  “And by that, I mean that we’re getting them out of our hair as fast as we legally can, whether or not we charge them with anything in the process.”

“Agreed,” Santiago said, shoving open the door to the main room.

The scene in the holding cell was... not pandemonium.  Jake and Cassie were sitting on the bench at the back of the cell, Cassie’s head leaning on Jake’s shoulder.  Rachel leaned against the bars, picking at her nails.  Tobias sat on the crossbar next to her, preening.  All in all, the kids seemed to be cooperating, which was a mercy.  It wasn’t like the Nine-Nine had the budget for even one-tenth of the equipment necessary to actually contain an Animorph, after all.

Still, it was probably for the best that some wise soul had moved all the other prisoners downstairs.

“...and you can conceal up to 15 knives in the interior pockets alone,” Diaz was telling Marco.  He watched with rapt fascination, leaning over her desk, as she unfolded a butterfly knife one-handed and then swung it closed again.

“Rosa, did you let him out of the cell?” Santiago asked, exasperated.

“Nope.”  Diaz shrugged.  “Must’ve broken out on his own.”

“He didn’t break anything,” Jake called from inside the cell.  “Marco has not damaged or defaced any government property, nor have any of the rest of us.”

“And yet somehow, there are not one but two delinquents meandering unrestrained around my precinct.”  Holt had emerged from his office, and was now looking slowly from Marco to Ax.

“Yeeeaaah, he’s not technically under arrest.”  Peralta jerked his chin at Ax.  “Seeing as he’s not from Earth, we probably can’t arrest him?  And even if we can, it definitely wouldn’t be worth the headache of trying to charge him with anything in intergalactic courts.”

“If you’re not under arrest, you may leave,” Holt told Ax sternly.

Ax straightened up from where he had been eating... something... off the floor of the microwave.  “I am not going anywhere without my friends!”

“That’s so beautiful.”  Boyle swooned against the door frame.  “It’s like you share a six-way love whose unmatched intensity pours out of you...”

“Not in front of the kids, Charles,” Peralta said.

“What?  I was just—”

“If you’re allowed to leave, could you at least go get us some hot dogs or something?” Rachel asked Ax, ignoring the cops.

“Nah, hot dogs are a Chicago thing,” Jake pointed out.  “Go for knishes, or pizza, or... what else is in New York?”

“Those little paper packets of honey-roasted peanuts,” Cassie suggested.

Everyone glanced over when there was a loud thud from across the room, and then back to the conversation when they realized it was just Marco trying, and failing, to get one of Diaz’s knives to stick in the surface of her desk.

«Tacos.»  Tobias looked unerringly at Scully.  «There has to be a taco truck around here somewhere, right?»

“Don’t you worry.”  Scully pulled his partner to his feet, gasping at the effort of unsticking Hitchcock from his comfortable chair.  “Me and Hitchcock’ll show him all the best food trucks in Brooklyn.”

“How many — any — are there?” Ax asked eagerly.

“Two hundred seven, if you don’t count pushcarts or ice cream vendors,” Hitchcock said immediately.

“We shall return with a bounty as great as three sets of human arms can bear,” Ax promised Rachel.

She flashed him a thumbs-up.

“Hot wings!” Cassie called.  “That’s a New York thing, right?  Hot wings?”

“Have we got a sauce for you,” Scully promised, a hand on Ax’s shoulder.

Jeffords ran to intercept them at the door.  “You can’t just wander in and out of the precinct with suspects, Scully!”

«If you don’t like Ax coming and going, you could always just arrest him,» Tobias said acidly.

There was a long silence.  During this silence, Ax slipped out the door with Hitchcock and Scully behind him.

“Kids these days and their attitudes,” Jeffords complained, spinning around too late to intercept Ax and then turning back to give Tobias his sternest stare.  “I should speak to your parents or guardians, young man.”

Tobias laughed.  «Joke’s on you, since I don’t have any parents or guardians.»

“What?”  Jeffords ran forward to press himself against the bars, appalled.  “Do you want to come home with me?  Cagney and Lacey keep telling me they want an older brother, and Sharon makes excellent chicken cacciatore — you don’t have any food allergies, do you?”

“He’s ours and you can’t have him,” Rachel snapped, standing up to get in Jeffords’s face.  She didn’t seem to care much that she had to tilt her head back at a 45-degree angle to make eye contact, and somehow succeeded in conveying that she was looking down at him.

“Duuuuuuude!” Marco exclaimed loudly from across the room.  “You really mean it?”

“Sure.”  Diaz rested a hand on the hatchet that lay across her desk.  “I teach people how to throw ‘em all the time.”

“Marco!”  Rachel turned away to whack on the bars.  “Quit fraternizing with the enemy.”

Peralta gasped loudly.  “We’re the enemy?” he asked in delight.  “Are we your nemeses?  Does this mean that we’re as scary as the Yeerk Empire?”

“Why?”  Jake stood up, making eye contact through the bars.  “Do you want to be?  Are you saying that you’re controllers?”  He took a step forward, not breaking his stare.  “Or was that just an expression of sympathy for their cause?”

“Uh.”  Peralta laughed nervously.  He’d taken several steps back in the last few seconds.  “You know what, never mind.  We’re cool, right?  Alllllll cool.  Super cool.  The coolest.”

“That’s easy to say for someone currently holding us against our will.”  Jake still sounded unamused.  “We have complied fully with your demands up until now, and will continue to do so unless you give us a reason not to.”

“Are you threatening my detective?” Holt asked, very mildly.

“Are you charging me with additional crimes?”  Jake’s voice wasn’t mild at all.

“Have I mentioned that I’m a big fan of you guys’s work?” Peralta asked, making a grand gesture to include all of the Animorphs.  “Because I’m thinking maybe that didn’t come through.  Huge fan.  Love the way you squash those yeerks.  It’s a delight having you here.”

“Of course we’ll go along with whatever you think is best, Officers.”  Jake sat back down.  He had yet to look away from Peralta.

“Amy I think I changed my mind about having kids,” Perlata said all in one breath, smiling and nodding as he continued to back away from the cell.

“No, chicks dig hatchets,” Diaz was explaining to Marco.  “Guys tend to get all weird about it if you start flinging weaponry around.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense.”  He was still hanging on her every word.

“The trick with guys is to pull out a little bit of that feelings shit.”  Seeing the expression on his face, she shook her head.  “You don’t have to go full-hog and reveal your real name on the first date or anything.”

Marco laughed.  “Oh good.  Because I am not looking for that kind of commitment.  I usually don’t want any commitment to anyone, ever.”

“Good policy.”  Diaz clapped him on the arm.  “Nah, with dudes it only takes a little bit of sappy stuff.  I’m talking a moderate-tier confession, like...”  She considered for a second.  “I keep one of my knives hidden in my boot, and it doesn’t set off metal detectors when I gotta work government buildings.”

“Uh-huh.”  Marco bent over the sheet of paper on his lap, scribbling frantically.

“Are you taking notes?” Rachel called, disgusted.

“More importantly, is he taking notes on the back of his own arrest form?”  Santiago rushed across the room to rescue the rest of the paperwork from Marco’s defacing.

“Nah, it’s cool.”  Diaz held up the back side of Marco’s paper.  “It’s just the arrest sheet where Peralta made four attempts to spell ‘Aximili’ before declaring that we probably couldn’t arrest an alien anyway.”

“Those two events were entirely unrelated!” Peralta said loudly.

“Of course, we all believe you.”  Santiago leaned over to pat him on the arm.

“If they can’t arrest Ax, can they arrest you?” Cassie asked Tobias.

He shrugged, or at least it looked like that’s what he did.  «They still haven’t processed me, so I suspect not.»

“We are going to process you,” Boyle said, “just as soon as we figure out how to scan your fingerprints.”

«But I’m not under arrest yet, am I?»

“Aren’t you guys legally required to release him, then?”  Cassie turned back to the room at large.

“We can hang on to all of you for twenty-four hours,” Santiago called back.

“The question is,” Peralta muttered, “do we want to?”

“I’m gonna keep this one around to bring me iced coffees and gas up my motorcycle.”  Diaz was watching Marco polish one of her axes.  “For a kid, he’s pretty dope.”

Marco gasped, a hand over his heart.  “You don’t mean it!”

She held up a finger.  “Too sappy.”

“I have a hatchet?”  He held it up in offering.

“Better.”

“Speaking of our legal rights,” Rachel said, “can I call my mom?  She’s a lawyer, after all.”

“Yeah, well my mom’s a teacher,” Peralta said immediately.  “And you don’t hear me bragging about it.”

“That’s not the point.”  Santiago sighed loudly.

“The point is,” Holt interjected, “she asked for a lawyer, and we need to provide her with one.”

«Can your mom be my lawyer too?» Tobias asked.

Rachel shrugged.  “Sure.  I think.  Jake already took his phone call, and Cassie wasted hers on checking in at the hospital—”

“I just wanted to be sure that we didn’t permanently injure that man,” Cassie said mildly.  “Only showed him the error of his ways.”

“You did that, all right,” Diaz said.  “I like your style, for what it’s worth.”

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“I like your style,” Marco breathed, staring up at Diaz.  “Teach me everything.”

“You want to be a cop?” Cassie asked him.

“What?  No!”  Marco turned quickly to Diaz.  “No offense, it’s nothing personal, they don’t mean it, but also...”

“Nah, it’s cool.  You’re a smart kid,” Diaz said.  “Cops are losers.”

“Excuse you,” Santiago said, “Could a loser win both the ‘Most Organized Seminar’ and ‘Highly Relevant Community Announcements’ awards from the same commissioner in one year?”  She gestured pointedly to a matching set of plaques on her desk.  “Checkmate.”

“I have brought a bounty of wings!” Ax declared.  At least, it was presumably Ax speaking from behind the teetering stack of take-out boxes that went clear over his head and somehow didn’t include the four additional plastic bags of Chinese food hanging off his arms.

«Ax-Man, you are a god among insects,» Tobias said.

“Not on top of the binders!”  Santiago lunged to shield them with a drawer before Ax’s tower of food boxes could topple onto the front desk.

“Can I have some?” Peralta asked wistfully, watching as Ax slotted an entire pizza box through the bars to where Jake and Cassie could pry it open.

“Here Jakey, we got you a tub of Wing Slut sauce.”  Scully set it reverently on Peralta’s desk.

“Really, you shouldn’t have.”  Peralta scooted his chair back several inches, eyeing the tub with suspicion.

As the better part of the Nine-Nine watched in horrified fascination, Tobias tossed his head back and swallowed a Buffalo wing whole.  After a second he made a hacking sound and spit up the bone, now completely cleaned of all meat.

“You eat wings?” Boyle asked, leaning in to peer through the bars.  “Is that cannibalism?”

“It’s an open question,” Cassie said.  She folded a paper plate taco-style to protect the lo mein inside, sliding it out to Ax.  “Can you make sure Marco eats something with lots of carbs before he goes hatchet throwing?”

Ax took the plate, saluting her with his free hand.  “The sauce is most excellent, sell-lent, when consumed through a straw,” he told Peralta in a conspiratorial whisper as he went by.

Peralta pushed to his feet.  “Yep, I am never having kids, and I am never eating food ever again.”

“Human bodies do not continue living if you do not consume sufficient nutrients.”  Ax pointedly set the lo mein in front of Marco.

“Ha!” Peralta said.  “That’s what everyone said about drinking water, and yet!”

Marco grabbed a handful of noodles straight off the plate and dropped them in his mouth.  “The bagels might be better here, but you can’t beat California’s Chinese takeout,” he concluded after chewing for several seconds.  “Sorry,” he added, glancing up at Diaz.

“If you suck up any harder, you’re going to injure something,” Rachel snarked.

“Why, are you jealous?”  Marco batted his eyelashes at her.

“No, she just remembers that we’re all under arrest right now,” Jake said loudly.  “And that we’re under no obligation to say or do anything without a lawyer.”

“Which is why I’m here.  To ensure you do not talk yourself into any more trouble than you already have.”

Everyone turned to look at the newcomer.

“Hi Aunt Naomi,” Jake said, voice small.

Rachel rounded on him.  “You used your phone call to contact my mom?”

Jake held up both hands.  “I didn’t say anything about the alcohol!”

“Alleged alcohol,” Naomi said loudly.  “Which these minors have not admitted to purchasing or consuming, because they have not made any statement admissible in a court of law, because you have been holding them all here illegally without an advocate.”

“Ma’am, I think you’ll find that we made every effort to secure advocacy and legal representation for these children with all due haste.”  Holt moved smoothly across the room to shake her hand, and then ushered her into a chair.  “Detective Peralta deemed it necessary to hold them here for their own safety until such time as we could obtain statements from everyone involved.”

“Has anyone pressed charges yet?”  Naomi sat in the folding chair like a queen on a throne, and glared at Holt until he — with a wincing glance at the dust on the seat — sat across from her.

“No, ma’am.  The only person likely to do so is still at the hospital,” Holt explained.

“Oh yeah, he said he wasn’t going to,” Cassie called over.

“What,” Peralta said, laughing.  “You just called him on the phone and talked him out of it?  Just like that?”

Cassie shrugged.  “I asked nicely.”

“It’s Cassie,” Marco told Diaz in a stage-whisper.  “She does stuff like that.”

“Hardcore.”  Diaz looked Cassie over.

“But I’m still more hardcore than her, right?”

“Too desperate.”

“I have four knives?”

“Better.  Only four?”

“Where else am I gonna put them?  I can’t morph and wear a leather coat at the same time.”

“Point.”

“If they’re not being charged with anything,” Naomi said overtop all of this, “and they’ve already given their statements, then you need to release them from custody.”

“I’m not comfortable doing that if we’re not releasing them into the hands of a parent or legal guardian,” Holt said.  “I’m given to understand from their earlier statements that Jake is your nephew and Rachel is your daughter?”

Naomi nodded.

“Then I can only release those two to you.”  Holt seemed genuinely regretful that this was the case.  Then again, it was Holt, so it was hard to tell for sure.

«Look, if Jake can go with his aunt, I can go with my uncle, right?» Tobias said.

“Yes, that would be acceptable,” Holt said.

“Thank you, human captain.”  Ax gave a small bow to Holt.  “I accept this responsibility.”

“Wait, wait.”  Santiago looked Ax over.  “No, we’re not going to just... How old are you, anyway?”

“I am eight-six years old,” Ax announced.

“Eighty-six,” she repeated.

Ax stared back at her, implacable.

Holt sighed.  “Obviously, he is referencing the fact that andalite years are approximately point-two-four-one-zero-nine times the length of human years.  However, since the law does not specify whose years one must count in order to determine whether an individual is over the age of eighteen, I believe I take his point.”

“Does this mean I’m eighty-six too?” Marco asked quickly.

“Were you born on Earth?”  Santiago raised her eyebrows at him.

“Uh.”  He glanced at Diaz.  “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

Diaz gave him a subtle fist-bump.

“My son is not an adult, nor does he mean to indicate that he wishes to be charged as an adult,” Naomi said quickly.

“‘Son’?” Marco squeaked.

“‘Son’?” Holt asked, frowning.

“Yes?”  Peralta stuck his head up, took stock of the scene, and quickly sat back down.

“Son.”  Naomi stared straight at Holt.  “In fact, I will be taking all four of my children, both adoptive and biological, when I leave here today.”

“You adopted me?” Marco demanded.  “Do I get a say in this?”

“Do you have proof to back up your assertion that you are these children’s mother?”  Holt hadn’t broken Naomi’s stare either.

“The way I see it, you have two choices.”  Naomi reached into her purse, pulling out one of her own business cards and setting it on the desk between them.  “Either you allow us to walk out of here, in which case I promise you’ll never see any of us again... Or you continue to hold these minors without formal charges and without counsel, in which case I promise to pursue legal action against whatever stray bricks of this precinct are left standing after my daughter and her friends exercise their legal right to exit the building with as much force as they deem necessary.  Which option would you prefer?”

“See?” Jake whispered loudly to Rachel.  “I knew I made the right call by calling your mom.”

“I take your point,” Holt said, after a moment of consideration.  “Very well, you and your children may leave.  Do keep them out of trouble in the future, won’t you?”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Captain Holt.”  Naomi shook his hand.

Boyle was quickly fumbling for the lock on the cell door.  “Can I have your autograph?” he asked Rachel as she went by.

Rachel looked him up and down, and then kept going without a word.

“Here, I’ll do it.”  Cassie took the paper and sharpie from him.

“Can you make it out to ‘Nikolaj’?” Boyle asked, eyes wide.

“Maybe.”  She uncapped the pen.  “Can you spell that?”

“N-I-K-O-L-A-J, oh and can you add something about always listening to his dreams, and also the music of Diana Ross?”

Slowly, Cassie looked up at Boyle.  She capped the pen — she’d settled for “to Nikolaj, from Cassie” — and handed everything back to him.

“Marco, dude, we’re going,” Jake said.  He currently had both arms around Marco’s waist and was pulling him backward from Diaz’s desk.

“But... but...”  Marco looked up at Diaz.  “Call me?”  Immediately he shook his head and said, “too desperate?”

She smirked.  “Nah, you’re cool.”

He let out a lovelorn sigh and went limp, which was all the excuse Jake needed to haul him over one shoulder and head out of the building.  Cassie and Ax followed, Tobias fluttering up to land on Rachel’s shoulder as she headed out too.  Naomi brought up the rear, casting a pointed look around the room as she went.

“Man,” Jeffords sighed, “I should’ve gotten an autograph for my kids too.”  And then he rounded on Peralta, midway through sneaking the Wing Sluts sauce tub into the trash can.  “What did we learn today, Peralta?”

He considered.  “Lawyers suck?”

“No!” Jeffords said.  “Well, they do, but... Santiago?”

She looked up from where she’d been making an incident report to this exact effect.  “Next time we’re thinking about arresting a whole batch of superpowered child soldiers on questionable misdemeanor charges... don’t?”

Holt nodded gravely.  “Well said, Santiago.”

[sooibian]

Stranger Things (2)

Pairing: Baekhyun x fem!Reader ft. Kyungsoo, Mark Lee, Jongdae (if you squint)

Description: You met an obnoxious lawyer at the airport and fell stupidly in “love” but little did you know, his heart belonged to someone else.

Themes: Fluff, crack, stupid OC, Mark Lee’s debut with a law firm, organic cucumbers, cowsheds, corgis, farmer!Soo, lawyer!Baek

A/N: This was not supposed to happen but four people asked for it and that’s really all it takes to get me to do something. I was SO tempted to title this - Of Cowsheds and Corgis!! This fic is ridiculous and very predictable but I gave up on the angst I was writing for this because ridiculous is just what I need right now. I truly hope you’re all safe and healthy!

Word Count: ~ 1.6k

Chapters:  One | Two | Three | Four (Final)

Groaning, you put down your second ‘fruit platter’ with a deliberate clang on Kyungsoo’s bedside table. Nothing. “Yah! Did you catch narcolepsy in that ridiculously mind numbing hamlet?” The skinny end of your chopstick slowly made its way to the sole of his left foot. Still nothing. Panic swelled within you and you crawled over to his side to check his breathing. He was breathing, alright.

“Eomma!” You bellowed. Maybe it was time for the third medley of diced apples and bananas.

Still nothing.

***

“Sloth.” You took a jibe at a barely awake Kyungsoo.

“Creep.”

“Creep?”

“You were watching me sleep!”

“I was waiting for you to wake up! There’s a difference, Snorlax.”

“Patience - -”, his mouth fell open in a huge yawn.

“Isn’t my greatest virtue. Yeah, I know. You’ve said it a million times. It’s etched in my heart. I’ll get it tattooed across my forehead. Now spill.”

For a moment Kyungsoo looked confused before diving into his fruit platter with a half-suppressed snicker. 

“What?” You attacked his stupid bespectacled face with a pillow. When was the last time he got a change of glasses? He’s worn this thick-rimmed atrocity forever. Although the man was optically challenged, his hearing was more than just fine. He was quick to spot the hint of defensiveness in your tone and his heart shaped smile had a reputation of showing up only when you were in deep trouble. “Ahhhhh….my case? The bank is entitled to a lien on the adjoining cowshed - ”

You cut in with a long impatient sigh. “Kyungsoo, sweetie, can we talk about corgis for now?”

“Chubs”, you undid your messy bun at the sound of that horrendous nickname, “you’ve got a bad case of --- honestly whatever this is. You spent two hours with him. Two.”

“Squishy, I’m not three anymore. I am a woman now.” His face contorted into an expression of disgust. “Stop. Calling me. Chubs.” Interjecting every word by striking his shoulder with your feeble wrist, you noticed how ‘un-Squishy’ he’d gotten over the past one year. “And I know all there is to know...about your 174 cm tall friend who struts around like he’s no less than 185. But that’s not him...that’s Handsome Mr. Park, his partner.”

“Stalker!” Kyungsoo’s eyes grew wide in horror and he flicked your forehead very, very hard.

Swallowing your cry of pain, you pinched his ear with all your might, making him wince. “It’s called content curation. If you ever happen to meet a lovelorn village belle ….let me know, yeah? I’m willing to put up my skills to offer. For a fee, of course.”

“YAH!” He freed himself from your grasp. “Behave! You’re not three anymore, right? Tell me...how much do you know about Baekhyun?” He was curious. Slightly panic-struck, even. But you couldn’t tell why.

“I will tell you but I need to know something before that. Has he - Doh Kyungsoo I swear to God I will bury you alive if you so much as smile - has he mentioned me at all?” You felt your face flame and a part of you really did not want to know the answer to that.

Kyungsoo sucked the insides of his cheeks in and said, “He thinks you’re interesting.”

You knew 'interesting', almost always, was nothing but a euphemism for weird. Ignoring the tender ache in your chest you said, "Well, I think he looks a lot like his corgi Mongryong. Mum has invited you to dinner tomorrow. Later, Squish." You pulled him in a bear hug, picked up the two, now polished, plates and walked out of Kyungsoo's room, slowly closing the door behind you.

"Eomma, Kyungsoo will be joining us for dinner -"  

"Chubs, wait!" He hurried out of his room and handed you a rather heavy C4 size envelope. "My dentist appointment has been moved to today and I had to drop these documents off at Byun Park's", after a small pause he hesitantly continued, "he won't be there."

"Who won't be there?" Kyungsoo’s mother eyed the both of you suspiciously.

You couldn’t say no to the illustrious prince of a family who fed you a whole carton of organic fruits a while ago. At least not in front of the matriarch.

"It's nothing Eomma… it's Kyungsoo's friend Byun Baekhyun. Yah! Doh Kyungsoo! Stop acting like he's my ex boyfriend."

***

Your heart raced as you stepped into the elevator of the swanky commercial building. Pushing the button for the 27th floor, you turned around to examine yourself in the mirror feeling frumpy and underdressed in your faded yellow sweater and mom-jeans. The ding of the elevator jolted your heart and your mouth went dry as you lay your eyes on the blond haired man standing in front of you. You wanted nothing more than to snake your arm around Doh Kyungsoo’s neck and put him in a tight chokehold until he begged for mercy -- at this point you weren’t very keen on letting go of the imaginary, gasping for breath, blue in the face, Doh Kyungsoo. He won’t be there??

“Hi”, you said stepping out of the elevator but what you really wanted to say was ‘I want to delete myself’.

“Airport Girl!” He jested. You didn’t feel very apologetic anymore or even underdressed for that matter since the partner of a snooty law firm thought that a long sleeved jersey with bib shorts were an acceptable choice of clothing. Nevertheless, you properly introduced yourself and did what was long overdue.

“I am sorry about the other day and -- ” You briefly waited for him to cut you off with a ‘Don’t worry about it’ or even dismiss it with loud ‘hahaha’ but instead his little eyebrow raise insisted you complete your apology. “And I shouldn’t have - -”

“Airport Girl, I notice you have a problem completing your sentences.” Resting his hands on his hips he cocked his head to the side. That vaguely familiar annoying smirk made your skin crawl.

“Byun Baekhyun-ssi, I am here to see Lee Min Hyung. I am supposed to hand over Kyungsoo’s documents to him. I hope you’re working hard on my friend’s case. He really needs that cowshed back, he’s paid the broker’s fee in full for it. I hope this was coherent enough for you.” His smirk stretched into a genuine smile as he inched closer to you. Uncomfortable as you were standing in an enclosed space and conversing with a man in bib shorts, the diminished distance from his two small strides made you squirm. You could practically smell his cologne.

“I’ll forgive you if you agree to come cycling with me. Right now.”

“Absolutely not. Can I go see Lee Min Hyung now?”

“MARK LEE!” Baekhyun bellowed. The unsparing luminous smile on his face wasn’t doing any favours to the health of your heart. Within seconds, a bespectacled young lad who looked like he hadn’t slept a wink for days came rushing to his side. So Byun Baekhyun worked his employees to the bone while he himself took hiking trips in absurd outfits.

He put an arm around the frail boy and introduced the fresh law graduate to you, “This is my main man Mark Lee from Canada.” Violently thumping Mark’s back he continued, “Madam’s here with Doh Kyungsoo’s documents. Take her inside and go over the file. Check if anything’s missing and most importantly, offer her something cold to drink.” Letting go of Mark, he said to you with a wink, “I’ll be waiting in the lobby, Airport Girl. Or you’re never losing the nickname.”

***

Mark Lee’s involuntary metamorphosis from scaredy cat to ferocious lion cub in the conference room took you by surprise. While going over Kyungsoo’s documents like a hawk focused on its prey, he dutifully put a glass of ice water in front of you just as instructed by Byun Baekhyun. It was nothing more than a courtesy call. “Doh Kyungso-ssi’s personal documents all look okay -- ID card, bank statements, transaction information, realtors invoice, property possession documents.” You lost him at ‘realtor’s invoice’. “Seems to me, the realtor tricked him - - why did he not get due diligence done before investing in property? How could he not notice that the title deed does not extend to the cowshed?” Mark Lee was furious….at you.

“He’s just a simple man with simple dreams who wanted to trade his city existence for a quiet rural homestead and grow organic cucumbers, I guess? Why don’t you give him a call and --”

Mark Lee’s paw met the desk in a loud smack, startling you. “A simple due diligence would’ve saved him the hassle - -”

You weren’t exactly sure of the reason Byun Baekhyun thought you’d need a cold drink but he was so right, everything else seemed wrong. You took a rather large gulp of water, snatched Mark Lee’s notepad from his firm grasp and scribbled Kyungsoo’s number in it. “Here’s Doh Kyungsoo’s number. Call him if you need anything further.” You rose from your chair and eyed him sympathetically. “Take care, Mark Lee and please don’t skip meals.”

***

He waited for you, just as he’d promised. He somehow managed to look just as stunning in that funny costume as he did when you saw him at the airport. “Let’s go. Half an hour with that enthu cutlet Mark Lee and I need to feel the wind in my hair. How do you manage?”

“Yah! Airport Girl. He’s my best and brightest.” Sounding like a proud parent he guided you to the parking lot. The guilt weighing your heart down compelled you to ask, “What about Yoona?”

“She’ll be joining us.” Baekhyun quipped nonchalantly, opening the door to his Audi for you.

It was at that exact moment you said a silent prayer to a certain 3rd generation male idol to strike you with lightning and put you out of your misery.

Tagging: @hirumixoxo @majesticsnow @dreamingofdreamydream @juncottonluvbot

[softboywriting]

A Perfect Fall

Summary: You and Shawn have been best friends for most of your lives and since you were a teenager you’ve had a crush on him. He has no idea, or so you think. Things are about to change, and all it takes is a trip to the best pumpkin patch around for true feelings to surface. [fluff] [best friends to lovers] [fall/autumn theme]

Word Count: 4k

|Masterlist In Bio|

If someone were to ask you your favorite color you would say gold. Gold like the leaves on the trees in the middle of October. Gold like the letters of Shawn’s last name gilded across the back of the letter man jacket that sits over your desk chair at home that he left there a year ago. Gold like the sun going down over the river on a cool autumn night. But most of all, gold, like the color Shawn's eyes are when he sits across from you in a barn an hour from your house and stares out at horses in the nearby corral. He's beautiful. Breathtaking. Outstanding in every way. He's your best friend in the entire world and he has no idea that you're completely gone for him, or does he? Let's go back to how this day started.

Beeping, incessant, droning beeping. The sound of your alarm clock going off at its regular time, seven in the morning. Right now you should be getting up and making yourself appear to be somewhat human before heading to class, praying you remembered all of your homework. You should be scrambling through your kitchen, grabbing a banana for breakfast as you head out to meet Shawn in his Jeep. Not this week though. It's the first day of Thanksgiving break and you're so happy to be able to smash that snooze button and bury your face into a pillow.

Your phone goes off, a low buzz buzz against the pillow your head is on. You've almost fallen back to sleep, nearly reached that floaty state of perfect warmth under the blankets that gives you an express ticket to dreamland. Almost.

Buzz buzz.

"For the love of everything holy, can you go away?" You groan angrily into the pillow. As if the phone might switch itself into silent mode out of pure fear. That would be that day wouldn't it?

Buzz buzz.

You slide your hand under the pillow and extract your phone, turn your head just enough to see the screen and lay it against the pillow next to you. Three missed messages.

Shawn: you awake?

Shawn: get up loser i have coffee

Shawn: I'll come in there

You drop the phone on its face and tug your blanket up over your head. If he wants you to get up on your first day of this mini vacation from the hell that is your second year of college, he can come get you his damn self. He may be your best friend, and yes, you may be head over heels for him, but getting up early on vacation happens for no man.

The sound of rattling outside your window followed by a dull thump is a dead giveaway that Shawn has scaled your mother's new trellis and tripped on the old shingles of the back patio roof. Clumsy and dumb. That's Shawn for you.

"Get up, hey," he talks against the glass as if you'll hear him better by doing so but ends up only muffling his voice further. "I know you're up."

"Go away!"

"No!"

The latch on the window wiggles, you can hear a familiar scrape of his student ID card from his wallet against the wood of the window frame. You watch as the ancient lock flips 180 degrees and the window slides up, sending a cold gust of morning air into your bedroom.

"You're a dick." Shawn grumbles, squeezing through the narrow window frame. He's had trouble getting through it since freshman year of high school. Really the only reason he's climbing through it now is to avoid making too much noise coming in the front door and enduring the wrath of your dad who is surely still asleep because he works nights at the packing plant in town. Shawn woke him up once by just walking too loudly and that was enough.

"You're a dick for waking me up on my vacation." You roll over and face the wall.

Shawn flops on the bed, leaning over across your legs and waving something in your face. "I am not, I'm the best person ever."

"Nope."

"Come on! Look at the tickets!"

You slip your hand out of the blankets and snatch the papers from Shawn's hand. Two all access passes to the Friendly Farms Pumpkin Patch. You narrow your eyes at him and he raises his eyebrows. This is such an unfair move. He knows how much you love pumpkin patches and he knows that you've never been to the Friendly Farms Pumpkin Patch because it's so far away and it usually costs an arm and a leg if you don't buy preseason passes.

"Eh? Whatdya say? Me, you, old J-Bone and the open road to the best place to get your pumpkins this side of the river?"

You groan and drop the tickets on the pillow. "Okay! Okay fine I'll get up." You shove the blanket back and it covers his lap. "But stop calling the Jeep "J-Bone" it's so weird."

"She has a name okay, and I'm gonna call her by it."

You sit up and shove him down on the bed. "Freak."

"Only for you." He smirks, sticking his tongue out and making lewd licking motions.

"Oh God please stop." You throw your pillow at his face and get up to get dressed in whatever was semi clean. Laundry had taken a backseat to classwork these days, you’re planning on catching up during the break.

One big hoodie, Shawn's that he left at your house a few days ago, a pair of leggings under some fitted sweatpants and a lopsided ponytail later and you're ready to go. As promised Shawn has a coffee in the Jeep for you as well as a croissant breakfast sandwich.

"How long is this drive again?" You ask over a mouth full of buttery sausage and egg goodness. "An hour?"

"An hour and a half."

"I'm gonna go to sleep then."

Shawn chuckles. He pulls the Jeep out of your driveway and heads for the highway. "I have a feeling you'll stay awake."

"Why's that?"

"The drive is too beautiful to miss."

_________________________________

Shawn is absolutely correct. The drive down the highway is way too incredible to miss for just a few more minutes of sleep. Of course you've seen the trees around your town turn shades of red, orange and yellow before but driving through open roads where trees grow in massive forests completely unbridled by man, is an experience you won't soon forget. Never in your life have you seen so many different hues of fall colors at one time.

"Shawn, pull over, I need to get out and do something."

Shawn looks over and quickly turns off the highway onto the shoulder where the gravel meets the grass. "Everything okay?"

"More than okay." You grin and unbuckle your seatbelt. You open the passenger door and slide out, leaving the door open as you tromp across the grass to the edge of the forested area. Behind you Shawn kills the engine and you can hear his door open then close followed by your door being closed.

"What are you doing?" He laughs, following you into the trees. "We're not even at the pumpkin patch and you're going crazy."

"I've been crazy. You know that, come on, we've been friends for how long?"

"Twelve years and counting."

You stop before a tree that has bring pinkish red leaves on it. They're like no others around it and you pick up a few of the ones that have fallen. "Pink leaves." You hold them out and Shawn takes one.

"These are pretty. I've never seen them this color."

"Take my picture? I wanna remember this tree forever."

Shawn takes your phone and types in your pass code to unlock it. He's the only person on the planet who knows it beside you and you know his as well. "Alright, do you wanna pose or something?"

"I'm gonna throw a bunch of leaves up in the air and if you can, try to snap the picture as they fall around me?"

"I'll do my best." He chuckles and kneels down a bit to get you in full frame for a better angle.

"Okay on three? One, two, three!" You fling an arm full of leaves up into the air and laugh as they rain down over you.

"Nailed it."

"Really?!" You rush over and Shawn hands you the phone. Sure enough it's you standing and grinning at the leaves as they fall around you with the pink tree in the background. "Oh my God it's perfect."

Shawn puts his arm around you and starts walking back to the Jeep. "I've been messing around with my friend Josiah's camera a bit. He showed me a few tricks for everyday stuff."

"Oh wow, fancy boy."

"Shut up, I am not fancy."

"Fancy pants Mendes learning all the tips and tricks on photography to pick up chicks."

He scoffs. "Yeah, as if. I just wanted to try it out. Josiah takes some awesome photos and it looks so easy, I was curious how he did it."

"I'm just teasing you Shawn." You pat his chest as you reach the Jeep and he pulls his arm away from you. "I think it's cool that you're interested in photography. It's definitely something that could be useful one day."

"Like taking photos of you today."

You smile and let out a little laugh. "Yeah, definitely like today."

Shawn gets in the Jeep and you haul yourself up into the passenger's seat. "You ready for the real fun to begin?"

"Hell yeah. How many pumpkins do you think we can fit in the back of this thing?"

"I dunno," he says, looking into the back where the seats are down and then looks at you. "But we're not going to find out."

"Buzz kill."

"Sorry, but I'm not having my Jeep chock full of pumpkins."

"Psh, it's for science."

Shawn's rolls his eyes and signals as he pulls out onto the highway. The two of you have at least another forty minutes before you reach the farm. Shawn turns up the radio and you decide to lean the seat back and just enjoy the rest of the ride.

_________________________________

The entryway to the Friendly Farms Pumpkin Patch is huge. There are wrought iron gates with metal pumpkin cutouts all along the bars of the fencing with ivy like casts on the top. Shawn drives down the bumpy dirt road to the designated parking area and stops to park near the ticket windows and actual gates inside. There are maybe a dozen cars already parked as well, which considering the popularity of the place isn't hardly anyone. It's still early though, they have just opened for business at nine and it's only about a quarter till ten.

Shawn opens the back of the Jeep while you grab your backpack purse off the floor of the backseat. "Do you need a water bottle?"

"Yeah." You walk around to meet him. "I thought you were going eco friendly?"

"I am." He hands you a reusable metal bottle. "I promise I washed it this morning."

You slip the bottle into your side pocket and chuckle. "Like we haven't been sharing germs forever."

"True." He closes the door and pulls the tickets out of his back pocket. "Ready?"

"I was born ready."

Shawn wraps his arm around your shoulders and heads to the ticket windows. You're excited beyond belief to see what is in store for you beyond the corn stalk covered gates before you. It's going to be perfect.

_________________________________

To say the pumpkin patch is beyond expectations would be about right. You and Shawn walk past the ticket booths and through the gates into a whole town built up around the fall theme. There are shopping booths, food booths, a sign for a corn maze, a hay rack ride, and the pumpkin patch. There is a whole slew of games and places to take photos as well and all that is just what you can see when you walk inside. There's a whole path along the shops that just keeps going and you are floored.

Shawn grins at you, beaming, because you're beaming right back at him. He knew this place was going to be great. Photos online just didn't do it justice. "What do you wanna do first?"

"Just...take it all in." You walk forward toward the center of the town like set up where there is a huge wooden windmill, hay bales and benches all sitting in a circle around it.

Shawn walks along beside you and chuckles. "It's pretty awesome."

"Awesome isn't the word." You laugh and plop down on a hay bale next to a smiley homemade scarecrow. "It's a dream, Shawn."

"I'm glad." He thumbs toward a nearby caramel apple stand. "Let's get a snack and start this day right huh?"

"You read my mind."

_________________________________

You and Shawn spend the whole late morning into the early afternoon wandering around, checking out the entire lay out of the pumpkin patch. You grab cider around eleven and then cocoa at noon. A late lunch consists of a shared smoked turkey leg, a funnel cake and some tomato salad that was being made fresh by some little old ladies at a booth near the center of the patch. The food is incredible and you and Shawn take turns feeding each other bites of this and that, giggling when one of you ends up with powdered sugar on your face from the funnel cake.

Spending time like this with Shawn is the best and worst thing to ever happen to you. It's a glimpse at what life with him would be like if you were together. Your heart swells every time he leans in to say something about the scenery that he’s noticed because you think he's going to kiss you.

Lunch wraps up and Shawn goes to toss your trash in a nearby oak barrel that's set up as a trashcan. He dusts his hands off on his jeans and pulls his sweater off over his head. "Here," he holds it out to you and you raise your eyebrows.

"Why do I want it?"

"Because you're going to get cold on the hayrack ride."

"Psh no I won't."

"Yeah you will." Shawn bunches up the sweater from the bottom up and holds it out for you to put your arms in. "Come on, I know you wanna."

You stick your arms out and he helps you get the sleeves over them and tugs the sweater down so your head pops through the neck hole. "It's so warm." You look down and pull out the soft knit fabric that's far too large on you. "You must be like a thousand degrees."

Shawn shrugs. "I'm always hot. You've slept with me, you know that."

"I-I-" You freeze, brain definitely going down a very different road from what Shawn means.

"Yes?" He chuckles.

"I have not slept with you."

"Well, not like that but... y'know." He shrugs and you knit your brows together.

What does that mean? Y'know what? What do you know? Does he want to sleep with you like that? What...just what?

Shawn waves his hand in your face. "Hey, earth to space cadet. The hayrack ride is gonna be boarding soon."

"Oh! Yeah!" You shake your head and start walking toward the signs pointing to the line for it. Shawn follows close behind, throwing his arm around your shoulders and leaning his head on yours.

You and Shawn take a seat at the back of the ride on a hay bale covered with a red plaid blanket. He's completely right about you needing his sweater. It is a lot colder up off the ground with the breeze from the moving ride blowing around you.

"Look, there's the pumpkins!" Shawn says, pointing to the left.

You look over through the slats of the walls of the ride. Sure enough there is a sea of orange pumpkins and deep green leaves that are yellowing with age as the plants are ready to be picked. There are a couple of very big ones and you definitely need one of those. You don't care how you get it to the car, you need it.

"Check those out," you say, pointing out the massive pumpkins.

"Holy cow those gotta be like fifty pounds."

"I want one."

"Okay."

You sit back and stare at him with your eyes wide. "Okay? You're not gonna convince me to get a few small ones instead?"

"Nope." He grins. "I'll buy you that pumpkin there."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch."

You narrow your eyes but don't argue the deal any further. He must have some motive. There has to be some catch. Maybe he'll say you have to move it or something. Seems fishy.

The ride stops at the entrance to the pumpkin picking area and you and Shawn get off with a few other visitors. There are tons of great pumpkins all around but you waste no time heading for the giant ones.

"How are you going to lift that?" Shawn pipes up as you reach them.

"Well, that's why I've got you."

"Oh? I'm gonna lift that?"

"Please?" You pout your lip out. "You said you'd buy it for me."

"I did." He chuckles, circling the giant orange mass. "I sure did."

"Regretting that?"

"Absolutely not."

You put your hands into the sleeves of Shawn's sweater and put them over your ears. They're cold and you wish you'd brought a hat or even some earmuffs. "Can I get it? For real?"

"Yes." Shawn kneels down and lifts the pumpkin up with ease. "Let's go."

"Isn't that heavy?"

"Not that heavy." He smirks and you walk next to him out of the patch to the line of employees waiting with ATVs that have little trailers attached for carrying visitors pumpkins to their cars or to the front entrance to drop them off until they leave.

"Name and car description?" The woman at the ATV asks as Shawn loads up the pumpkin.

"Ah-"

"Mendes with an s. Black four door Jeep Wrangler." Shawn says, dusting his hands off. "We'll pick it up at the gates."

"Alrighty." The woman scribbles down Shawn's information and peels a sticker of her clipboard to put on the pumpkin. "You got a big one eh?"

"Yes." Shawn wraps his arms around you and lays his chin on top of your head. "Biggest one for my best friend."

"That's so sweet. Would you like to pay here or at the gate?"

"Here." Shawn pulls his wallet out and hands over a ten dollar bill, the rate for extra large pumpkins from the yard. "Thank you ma'am."

"It's what we do," she says with a smile and a tip of her floppy straw hat. "I'll see this baby up to the gates. Have a friendly fun time!"

You and Shawn wave her off as she drives away with your pumpkin.

Shawn pulls away from you and grabs your sweater covered hands. "Wanna go over to the barn and feed the horses?"

You glance over at the big red barn where they show the horses and cattle throughout the day. "Sure. It doesn't look took busy."

Shawn turns around and squats down. "Get on my back, I'll carry you over there."

"What? Why? I can walk!" You laugh and he pats his back.

"Come on!"

"Okay okay, don't have to tell me twice." You climb on his back and he hoists you up so he can hook his arms under your legs. It reminds you of when you were nine and you first met. Shawn was big then too, tall for his age and athletic as ever being in hockey almost year round. He would always give you piggy back rides around the yard to catch lightning bugs on hot summer nights.

Shawn drops you off on a haybale near the first stall inside the barn. There is literally no one in there at the moment and you have the place all to yourselves. "I'm going to get a couple of drinks. Any preference?"

"Cider is fine. Hot please."

He disappears and you lean back against the old wooden wall. Today has been one of the best days of your life hands down. It's everything you love all wrapped into one, a pumpkin patch, oversized sweaters, hot cider, pumpkin picking...Shawn. You sigh and chuckle to yourself. Did Shawn realize how romantic this is? Did he have any clue how it must seem to any stranger passing by? The two of you would be the cutest couple. The dynamic is there, but what you lack is a pair of balls to say or do anything.

"Hot cider." Shawn says, handing you your brown paper cup and sitting down on the hay bale opposite you. "Fresh too."

"Thanks." You smile as you sip the warm spicy sweet liquid.

Shawn stares out at the corral nearby, eyes catching and sparkling in the late afternoon sun. He's gorgeous. Everything about him makes your heart soar. From his soft eyes to his slightly rough hands curled delicately around his paper cup, he is truly the only person you've cared so deeply for.

"Can I ask you something?" You say softly, barely realizing you've spoken. Too late to take it back now.

"Anything."

"Why haven't we ever gone out?"

He chuckles, a wide smile spreading across his face like wildfire. "Haven't we though?"

"No?"

"Can I tell you something?"

You lean forward, setting your cup beside your folded legs on the hay bale. "Of course, anything."

"This was supposed to be a date." He bites his lip and looks down, thumb circling the spout of his lid. "I was going to ask you out, like, for real."

"W-what?"

"Yeah." He laughs, looking up, anywhere but at you. "I chickened out though. I didn't ask you, I just sort of handed you the tickets and said let's go. Which in retrospect was fine, but it's definitely not what I had planned on doing."

"You wanted to take me on a date?"

"Yeah?"

"You...you want to be more than friends?"

Shawn rubs the back of his neck. "Shit, I guess? It's weird. You make me happier than literally anyone I've ever dated. You get my jokes and you sass me right back when I get smart with you. You're really beautiful and sexy in this crazy everyday way without even trying. And you're so smart and- how could I not want to date you? I've literally been so stupid for my entire life because I-"

You lean across the hay bale and press your lips to his. It's a moment you've been waiting for since you were thirteen years old and first realized you had feelings for him. You didn't expect to be the one initiating the kiss but here you are and there Shawn is. You pull back and Shawn just gawks at you.

"That was...you...you taste like apple cider."

You giggle. "You do too, dork."

"Can we do it again?" He asks, putting his cup aside and leaning toward you. "I think I need another taste."

"Mmhmm."

Shawn cups your cheeks and brings you in, kissing you lovingly like this is his way of making up for the last twelve years of your lives. He tugs you forward gently and you crawl over onto his lap, straddling his thighs as you grip his hair. It's been forever since he's had a haircut and it's a bit long, soft as can be, curly and absolutely grabable.

"Hey," he mutters, pulling back just enough to break the kiss. He bumps his nose to yours and you open your eyes to see his beautiful green and gold flecked hazel ones staring back at you. "Do you wanna go out with me?"

You smile and nudge his nose with yours once more. "I thought you'd never ask."

End.

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

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Thank you so much for reading this piece!  - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[paradoxicalpatton]

Wearing Our Hearts On Our Sleeves

hi everyone! so this is my new (not so little) little project, and im really excited about it!! this chapter is just the prologue so if this does well im going to write and post the actual story. so please if you enjoy this little sneak peek into my new au, like and reblog it!!! also, @tinysidestrashcaptain wanted to be tagged, so here!

Title: Wearing Our Hearts On Our Sleeves Chapter: Prologue Word Count: 2018 Ships: Logicality, Prinxiety, Dukeceit Summary:  Logan Bright, a Police Officer, is trying to find his father's killer, and solve the case that led to his death once and for all. Throughout his investigations, Logan meets an eclectic bunch of people. A paramedic who owns 2 cats yet is deathly allergic, a 911 operator with severe social anxiety, twins who happen to be a firefighter and a forensic scientist, a cps worker who is a compulsive liar, and a 7-year-old boy who's parents were murdered. Warnings: References to past child abuse, mentions of murder, and includes references to violence and talks about injuries so please be careful if you choose to go ahead and read! this fic is also very, very, sympathetic deceit heavy, so if you dont like that, dont read.  AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23046337/chapters/55117603

                                         [April 24th 2020, 2:17 am]

“Hello, 911, what’s your emergency?”

“Some bad man hurt my mom and dad, I don��t think they’re okay. Can you please come?”

“Okay, how old are you?”

“Please come fast, there’s lots of blood.”

“I’ve got officers coming as fast as they can, but I need you to stay calm for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“What’s your name?”

“Thomas.”

“Hi Thomas, I’m Virgil. How old are you?”

“I’m 7 years old.”

“Okay Thomas, you said there was a bad man, is he still there or did he leave? Did you see him?”

“He left. I only saw his clothes.”

“Alright, where are you right now?”

“In my mom and dad’s room.”

“And do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No, it’s just me.”

“Can you tell me what happened, Thomas?”

“I was sleeping with my mom and dad and I had to go to the bathroom, and then I heard my mom scream and two loud bangs.”

“Those loud bangs, did they sound like gunshots?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, did the bad man leave quickly?”

“No, he stayed for a little.”

“So you heard the loud bangs and waited a little until the man left?”

“Yes, he did something else to my mom and dad.”

“What did he do Thomas, do you know?”

“He closed their mouths with string.”

“...God, okay the officers should be there any minute now.”

“I can see police cars.”

“Perfect, you did such a good job calling. Can you give the phone to a police officer for me please?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, Thomas.”

“Detective Phillips speaking.”

“Hi detective, I just wanted to make sure help arrived before I ended the call.”

“No problem, we’ll handle this now.”

“Of course.”

                       [The Sanders Residence, April 24th, 2:21 am]

Detective Clark Phillips hung up the phone call and made his way over to the front stairs were Thomas had sat down. Sitting next to him, Clark shrugged off his coat and placed it around Thomas’ shoulders, making sure to give them a firm squeeze before he pulled away. Clark lent down slightly so that he could speak to Thomas more quietly and directly.

“So Thomas, was it? Did you see the man that killed your parents?” Thomas dried his face with his pyjama sleeve and looked at the detective sitting next to him, trying to find the courage to speak, his voice uneven and scared.

“I saw what he was wearing, but I didn’t see his face.” Clark watched as Thomas wrapped his arms around himself tightly, bowing his head and attempting to shrug the coat off. The detective chuckled at the sight before him.

“Well, Thomas that won’t help us at all.”

“But-” Clark put his right hand on the back of Thomas’ neck and squeezed slightly, a warning for the boy to stop talking.

“Unless you saw his face we’ll never find him. So if someone asks you if you saw something you tell them you saw nothing, alright?”

“But I did-” The hand tightened around Thomas’ neck and new tears began to form in the corner of his eyes.

“What did you see Thomas?”

“Nothing.”

                            [The Myers Residence, April 24th, 2:18 am]

Demitri Myers was rudely woken by the sound of his annoying default ringtone in the early hours of the morning. Without moving as much as he could, Demitri reached behind him and grabbed his phone from his bedside table, hitting the answer button and putting the call on speaker.

“Myers.”

“Dee, oh good you’re awake.”

“Why of course, it’s not as if I were sleeping or something.”

“Oh poor Demitri was woken from his beauty sleep-”

“Look, Allison, unless someone’s died I’m hanging up.”

“It was two people actually, their young son found them, I need you to take this one.”

“Fuck, sorry. Yeah alright, text me the address, I’ll get there as quick as I can.”

“Thanks, Dee.” 

Hanging up the phone, Demitri threw the bed covers off him and made his way into his ensuite, turning the tap on and gently splashing cool water over his face. He quickly slipped on his sneakers and coat, then grabbed his ID badge and car keys, and left. Demitri turned the car on and opened up his phone, tapping on the address Allison had sent him and started his GPS before pulling out of the underground car park and driving toward the crime scene. 

                          [The Sanders Residence, April 24th, 2:27 am]

Demitri walked up to the yellow police tape and showed the nearest officer his ID badge before slipping under the tape and walking over to the group of detectives standing by the paramedics. He was quickly given a rundown of what had happened and was directed by another officer over to the boy who was alone on the stairs. This was always the worst part of these kinds of jobs, the child had just lost his parents and now some stranger wants him to go with them. But Demitri had never struggled as much as he did that night. As he got closer he realised that the kid hadn’t been seen by the paramedics on sight, he could tell by the dried blood on his hands and the bottom of his pyjama pants. 

Kneeling down in front of the child as slowly as he could, he was able to get a closer look. His eyes were red and swollen, his cheeks were puffy, hair a mess, and dried snot under his nose. Demitri tried to keep the left side of him facing away from the kid as he introduced himself. 

“Hi there, my name’s Demitri, but you can call me Dee.” The boy slowly looked up at him, nodded his head and looked back down at the ground.

“My name’s Thomas.” Demitri smiled sadly and moved to sit next to Thomas on the stairs, noticing him flinch away as he got closer, so he put some space between them and let his hands fall into his lap.

“It’s nice to meet you, Thomas. I’m here to look after you, do you have any other family we can call?” Thomas shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself once more.

“Alright then, why don’t we go inside and pack a bag with some of your things. Do you think you can do that?” Thomas nodded and Demitri let out a quiet sigh, he knew this was going to be difficult, he just wished that Thomas didn’t have to go through this. Demitri stood up and walked over to Detective Phillips who seemed to be leading the case and asked him if he and Thomas could pack a larger bag and take a few small comfort items. The detective agreed and he went back over to Thomas asking him where his room was.

When they reached Thomas’ room, Demitri looked through the closet to find something to pack Thomas’ things in, eventually deciding on his small Spider-Man themed suitcase. Together they packed it full of clothes and toys, as well as Thomas’ toothbrush and hairbrush. Before leaving the room Demitri grabbed one of Thomas’ pillows and asked the boy to grab his shoes. 

                         [The Myers Residence, April 24th, 2:45 am]

When Demitri and Thomas had finally made it back to his apartment, he gave Thomas a quick tour, showing him where he’d be sleeping, where Demitri slept, where the bathroom was, and how to use the television. But before anything else, Demitri grabbed a new towel for Thomas and a new change of clothes, turning on the shower and letting the child clean himself of his parent’s blood. While he showered, Demitri put clean sheets on the guest bed and placed Thomas’ pillow near the headboard. 

After Thomas had gotten changed he brushed his teeth and lied down in the bed that’d been made for him, quietly asking Demitri to leave the door slightly ajar. Once he was sure Thomas was safe and comfortable, Demitri made his way to his own room and climbed back into bed after kicking off his shoes. He knew he should probably figure out what he needed to do tomorrow regarding Thomas, but he could practically feel sleep calling him. He had almost drifted off when he heard a soft knock on his bedroom door and a creak letting him know it’d been opened. 

“Mister Dee? Are you awake?” Demitri sat up and patted the empty side of his bed, inviting Thomas to take a seat so they could take.

“Yeah buddy, I’m awake. You doing alright?” With a little help, Thomas climbed up on the bed, sitting cross-legged and playing with the edge of the blanket.

“I’m okay, I can’t sleep.” Demitri nodded and slid back down the mattress until he was lying once more, pulling some of the blankets from underneath Thomas and lifting it up, inviting him to lie down with him.

“That’s fine, you can stay here with me.” Thomas smiled, albeit sadly, and made himself comfortable.

“Mister Dee-” “Just Dee, Thomas.” “-Dee… what happened to your face?”

Demitri stiffened. Usually, when he looked after children they’d be too scared to ask about his face, so when Thomas questioned him about it he was immediately ready to respond with a lie, to keep him happy. But his only rule when it came to lying was that he would never do it to a child. So he told Thomas the truth.

“It melted in a fire when I was 9.” Thomas’ wide, chocolate brown eyes blinked a few times, the boy refusing to break the silence so that Demitri would go on. And with a reluctant sigh, he did.

“My parents had a bad fight one day and my Dad hit me so hard I fell asleep. While I was asleep he accidentally started a fire. I was left inside.”

“Did they forget you?” Demitri should really lie here, to tell Thomas ‘No, they didn’t, my Dad saved me’ and that everything was okay. But looking across at him, Demitri just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“No, they didn’t forget. My Mom and Dad didn’t want to save me.” Before he knew it small, warm arms were wrapped around his stomach, Thomas’ face pressed tightly against his chest. For the first time ever since the incident, Demitri let a few silent tears slip past his eyes and down his cheeks. Because Thomas, a boy who had just lost his parents, who he had just met, was here comforting him for something that had happened 19 years ago. 

Demitri smiled as Thomas pulled away, looking up at the scar tissue that travelled down his face, neck, and arm, slowly raising a hand and looking back to Demitri.

“Can I touch it? Does it hurt?” Demitri chuckled softly and carefully grabbed Thomas’ hand, placing it on his bumpy cheek and running it past his jaw and down to the part of his shoulder exposed by his t-shirt. 

“No, it doesn’t hurt.” 

“It feels so weird, cool!” This time they were both laughing, real happy smiles on each of their faces. 

“Hey Dee, guess what.” Thomas curled into Demitri’s side as he placed an arm around him, holding the boy close and gently rubbing circles on his shoulder.

“What Thomas?”

“It’s my birthday today.”

The rubbing stopped. Surely he had heard that wrong. Surely, there was no way that sweet, sweet Thomas’ birthday was today. Everyone’s always scared that something will go wrong on their birthday, maybe a friend didn’t turn up, or the family dog took a bite from the cake before the candles were blown. But for a child to listen to their parents be murdered, find the bodies, and make the 911 call is quite possibly the worst thing that could ever happen. What was Demitri supposed to say to that? What? ‘Happy birthday Thomas, I hope it’s a great day! Your parents are dead but that’s okay!’ Instead Demitri chose the safest option, resuming rubbing circles on Thomas’ shoulder and pulling the blanket up.

“Get some rest Thomas, tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”