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ladykailitha · 4 months ago

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The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 7

This story is just coming right along. I've decided that it is split into three acts. The Arrangement, The Turn, and The Embrace. The first is about Steve adjusting to his new life. The second is thinking he needs to get out of the situation. And lastly the third is about finding acceptance and love with Eddie.

Yesterday for WIP Wednesday, I finished act 1. I figure if I pace this right, each act will be roughly ten chapters. But we'll see.

In this Eddie is sweet as always, Steve goes clothes shopping, and Chrissy misunderstands what Steve is trying to do.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Steve woke up to the sound of someone knocking on his door. He looked at the clock on the nightstand blearily. It was a little after nine am.

The knocking began again and he got unsteadily to his feet and wandered over to the door. He opened it.

Behind the door was a porter. “My apologies for the rude awakening, sir. But this came for you, marked ‘Urgent’.”

In the porter’s hands was a small box. Steve nodded and took the box. He set it on the side table and grabbed his wallet. He tipped the porter and grunted his thanks before slamming the door.

He trotted back over to the bed and flopped face first back into his pillows.

The next time he awoke it was more naturally, and closer to 10:30am than 9am. He rolled over on his back with a sigh. He’d missed breakfast, but he didn’t mind. He was tired. Just the feeling of nothingness clung to his chest like a heavy blanket.

He sat up and spotted the box. He picked it up and padded over to the desk. He looked around it for a moment and to his delight he found a letter opener.

“Thank god, for fussy hotels,” he murmured as he used the letter opener to open the box. He set the letter opener down and then took the box over to the sofa. He loved comfy it was despite it being black in color.

He pulled at the packaging to reveal a pair of designer sunglasses. Steve smiled as he pulled it out. Eddie must have thought of it when he heard Steve’s message about his day. All the driving around he did.

He picked up the phone and called Eddie.

“Hey, little Canary,” Eddie purred. “Did you sleep well?”

“Nearly,” Steve said with a hint of smile in his tone. “I got this urgent package from this hot rich guy that the front desk just had to wake me up for.”

“Whoops!” Eddie said, chagrin. “I didn’t think it would get there until this afternoon, sweetheart.”

Steve laughed. “It’s okay, I was able to go right back to sleep. Even remembered to tip the porter.”

“All’s well that end’s well,” Eddie said softly.

They talked for a bit before Steve said, “Oh, I was meaning to ask you. I have something I wanted to send to you. Is there an address or something I can send it to, to make sure you get it?”

“Aww...little Canary,” Eddie teased back, “you don’t have to send me anything. I like buying you things.”

“Oh I know,” Steve replied. “But I think you’ll really get a kick out this one, though.”

“Sure thing, baby,” Eddie said. “I’ll talk to Chrissy and she’ll give you a call with the information. How does that sound?”

“That sounds perfect, Eddie,” Steve murmured.

“What are your plans for today?”

Steve licked his lips as he thought about it. “Probably some clothes shopping now that I have this fancy black card to splash around.”

Eddie laughed. “You do that, baby. Just tell me which stores you’re going to so I can make sure they’re warned ahead of time about the card. Places like that are super weird about new people coming in with that kind of cash.”

“Ooh...” Steve said with a grimace. “Yeah, I saw that happen once. This woman had won the lottery or something and she came into the shop when I was there with my mom. The sales woman was absolute horrid to her and chased her out. My mom threw the newspaper on the counter and walked out. The front page had the picture of the woman and her three million dollar prize check. It was one of the few times I ever saw my mom do something remotely nice like that.”

After they hung up, Steve got up grabbed the box of truffles. He took a couple out to the box to eat while he gather up his things for a shower. He thought about hitting the gym again, but he wasn’t sure if the pink bitch was still here and he wanted to avoid her like the plague. And while he knew he could swim instead, he decided to take the day off.

Yesterday had been rough and he wanted to do a little bit of retail therapy.

Steve got dressed in his most high end clothing he had and made his way out to his car. Which he knew would be another indicator that he had come from money. His new wallet was designer, just like his new sunglasses.

He primped in the mirror a little to make sure every hair was in place and then he gathered all his stuff and made for his car.

He pulled up to the row of boutiques his mother used to frequent before she started getting her clothes from Paris and Milan. Steve personally thought these places had better quality stuff, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

He walked into the first boutique and looked around. He kept his sunglasses on until one of the sales women came up to him. Then he lifted him and set them on top of his head. He smiled at her brightly.

“Welcome to Le Chique!” she said cheerily. “How can I help you today?” She was dressed smartly in a knee length pencil skirt and cream silk blouse. She wore high heeled pumps and had her hair pulled back into a tight bun.

“Hi,” Steve greeted back. “I’m just looking to update my wardrobe. Get a little more of an adult style.”

He could see the fucking dollar signs lit up behind her eyes. She clapped her hands together and rubbed them greedily.

“Right this way,” she said, waving her arm in front of her and Steve stepped forward, further into the store. “I’m Olivia and I’ll be happy to assist you today.”

Steve tried on so many clothes he thought his head was going to spin. But never once did Olivia falter. He finally got an updated look. It was similar to what he usually wore with the jeans and polos. But he also got button down shirts and tailored slacks and pants. Everything that fit went with him and everything else that needed to be tailored would be picked up by a PA of Eddie’s and brought to the hotel.

In fact when he got back to the hotel, the mysterious PA had struck again. On his bed was a large box. As he got closer he could see it was from the shop he was at earlier today.

He didn’t know what it could be. He had everything he wanted from the shop. He had even gotten help carrying all his bags up the hotel room by a couple of porters, both of whom Steve tipped well. He kept an eye on the package the whole time he took off the tags and put away his clothes in the dresser and closet.

Once Steve was done he walked over to the package a tad warily. He knew it had come from Eddie. There was no one else it could have come from. He undid the silk ribbon and pulled it off gently. He lifted the lid and set it to the side. He then moved the tissue paper out of the way.

Inside was the most beautiful cream colored suit he had ever seen. He opened the jacket touched the black silk lining. Sticking out of the pocket of the breast pocket was a note. He pulled it out. In the loopy handwriting of the sales woman were the words, “I wanted to get you something special. I hope you’ll wear this for me when I get back to Hawkins.”

Steve shook his head, smiling fondly. He walked over to the phone and called Eddie. He bounced on the bed as it rang through.

“Hey, little Canary,” Eddie purred. “How was your shopping trip?”

“It was marvelous,” Steve giggled. “Though if you want me calling you at times other then when you buy presents, you’re going to have slow up a bit. It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

Eddie laughed. “You got me there, hon. But I’m glad you like the suit. I wanted to surprise you with it. I when I called about the card earlier, I told them that once they got your measurements to set it aside.”

“How did it get here before I did?” Steve asked, twirling the cord around his finger.

“See, I knew you would have a lot of clothes and couldn’t carry it up yourself, so I just made sure to have my little elf slip in while you were dealing with the porters.”

“Sneaky!” he crowed. “I love it. I even bought the perfect shirt to go with it. It’s black and grey in kind of watercolor like stripes. Add a black pocket square and some nice shoes I bought and I’d be the talk of the town.”

“Well you’re already the talk of my world,” Eddie murmured, causing Steve to blush dark red. “Have you eaten yet, little Canary?”

Damn. Steve knew he had forgotten something.

“No...” he whined. “I just got so excited about shopping that it slipped my mind.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll have dinner sent up to you. I think you’ll really like their hamburgers.”

Steve smiled at that. He had gone out to Benny’s to get a good burger, and they had them here. “Sounds good.”

They talked for a little bit more before Eddie had to go so that he could order Steve dinner, so they said their goodbyes and hung up.

Steve decided to take a shower while he was waiting on his food. He gathered up his things including his new hair products he bought yesterday.

He got undressed and turned on the hot water, letting the steam fill the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked at every angle of his face and had to admit that he actually looked happy. And wasn’t that a fucking trip.

He had thought he was happy before all this. Yeah, sure his dad was a jerk and his mom was useless, but he had friends, money, a car. Hell, he even had a boyfriend in this backwater hick town.

And then it all fell apart.

He hated how all his friends scattered the second the chips were down. He hated how Tommy turned tail and didn’t even try to take Steve with him. He had no doubt that soon enough the town would be all a twitter about Tommy and Carol and how cute they were together.

It was all bullshit.

The only people that cared about him were the people that would get hurt the most by all this and Steve was determined to keep them out of it.

Just before he got into the shower, the phone rang.

He let out a sigh and went to go answer it. There were only three people who had his number, Eddie, Dustin, and Eddie’s manager, Chrissy. All people Steve didn’t want to leave hanging.

“Hello?” he greeted.

“Steve?” a cool female voice asked. “This is Chrissy, Corroded Coffin’s manager. I understand you wanted to send Eddie something?”

“Oh!” Steve cried. “Yes, thank you for getting back to me so soon. Yeah, it’s not very big, say about the size of a 3x5 picture frame?” He hurried over to the desk, dragging the phone and stretching its cord to the limit to pull out a pen and some hotel stationary.

She hummed. “It’s not, risque is it?”

He laughed. “What? No! It’s nothing like that I promise.”

“Okay,” Chrissy said skeptically. “We have people opening packages before they get sent to the band so don’t send anything you don’t want a total stranger to see.”

“I promise it will mean absolutely nothing to the poor soul that opens their mail,” he informed her, “but he will absolutely get a kick out of it.”

Steve could tell she was still leery about it, but he wasn’t going to ruin the surprise.

She let out a sigh. “Fine. Here’s the address to send it to.” She rattled off an address and Steve dutifully wrote it down. “By the time it gets there, they should be back in LA, so it’ll go to their main mail box.”

He wrote band PO Box over the address and underlined it. “Great, thanks.”

“Now do you need anything else that isn’t their personal information?” she huffed.

Steve winced, he could tell she wasn’t happy being Eddie’s errand girl and by extension, his.

“No,” he said, “Just that. It’s just a small token that I think he’d like.”

“All right,” she said. “Good evening.”

“Good evening!” he chirped back.

Once she had hung up, Steve shook his head. He knew it was her job to to look out for the band. But it wasn’t that big of deal. What she think she was going to do send his dirty panties to the guy?

Not!

He looked down at himself and sighed. He had carried that whole conversation completely naked. He padded back to the bathroom and stepped into the shower.

He stepped under the stream of water and let it soothe him. He was still smarting a little from Chrissy’s attitude. She seemed friendly enough at the bar and genuinely wanted to see Eddie and Steve hit it off.

But something between then and now she had completely soured on him. That was a problem for future Steve, though. Right now in this moment he was going to enjoy his shower, watch some TV and enjoy the burger Eddie was having sent up.

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar eddie munson #age difference #ten years between steve and eddie

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jackmanbj · 1 year ago

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home surprise

jack was on his was back, he was finally done with tour and was exhausted, he had been working so hard and you could tell from phone daily phone calls he wasn’t getting all the sleep he needed.

“jack baby please rest before you come home” jack sighed and looked at you through the phone, his dark eye bags showing heavy “baby, i have been getting 4 hours a sleep” “jack! your saying that like it’s a good thing you need more rest! when you come home your going straight to bed!” “not before i fuck you” “yes before you fuck me! i need you to be rested up!” “fine baby, im about to start packing and ready for bed, i loveeeee youuu” “i love you so much more! now get some rest!” “i love you more tho” “jackman dont start.” “yes ma’am, and you better be sleep when i get there!” “of course baby”

you hung up the phone, of course you weren’t going to sleep you immediately went downstairs and cleaned it a up then started taking out the meat to defrost for jacks favorite meal then going to the living room to get snacks ready and movies planned out.

of course jack would get all this after he rested or he would quite literally pass out from exhaustion.

you checked the time 1:30am, jack would be back around 7am.

jack knew new you usually woke up around 8 or 9 so he wanted to make sure you were sleep to surprise you by you waking up to him.

you were going to wake up at 5:45am just to make sure jacks food was nice and ready for when he got back.

you set an alarm for 5:30am and fell asleep.

once it hit 5:30 you alarm went off waking you. you quickly got up and showered, brushed you teeth and started makings jacks food.

it was a quick easy mean so you were done by 6:48 jack had landed around 6:48 and would be here around 6:50 or 7:00 so you started putting the food on his and urban’s plate and placing them into the microwave.

when 7:05 hit you heard keys jingle so you quickly took the food out checking to see if it was still hot and they were so you placed it down in front the two chairs where jack and urban usually sat and got some forks for them.

“hi boys!” you gave urban a hug then went to hug and kiss jack.

“baby i told you to be sleep when i got here.” “i know but i made your favorite meal!” “did you even sleep baby?” “yes j, eat please!”

urban and jack sat down and started eating while you started cleaning up the rest of your mess.

“baby your not eating?” “uhmm not right now” “mk” once jack finished you took his plate for him and washed it and once urban was done you washed his to.

while you were finishing up the dishes jack came up behind you and rubbing on your lower thighs kissing your neck

“mm jack” “baby you can clean up later, lets go lay down hmm?” “im almost done, and i told you no sex till you sleep for at least, 7 hours. minimum!” “ baby.. i haven’t seen you in monthsss i miss you” “and i miss you to baby but where not having sex right now, ill be in the bedroom soon to help you unpack” “finee”

jack slowly walked up the stairs waiting for you to change your mind, but of course you didn’t.

once you went upstairs you seen jack unpacking.

“you need help baby boy?” “yes babe!”

you finished helped jack unpack and he went to go shower while you got his sweatpants out since that was all he liked to wear for bed anyway.

once jack got out he quickly put on his pants and laid down next to you.

“i missed you baby” you started playing in his damp hair and kissing his forehead “miss you so much” jack responded in soft snores. he was face first in your boobs drooling so you kissed his forehead once more and fell asleep with him.

#jack harlow x reader #jack harlow #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x y/n

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snwycde · 1 year ago

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Connected (Bang Chan) part 2

Pairing: BangChan x fem reader

wc: 2.2k

warnings: none

summary: angsty - slow burn of Chan and fem reader. Chan runs into his past, how will it affect the present and his future?

This is NOT the first part!!! Here is part 1

-----

“Hyung, what do you mean you’re going to make a new solo song?!” Han sits up from the couch, “Would the company even allow that? We’re supposed to release this album literally this year.”

Chan leans back into his chair and grabs at his hair, “I just don’t feel like my song is as…it just doesn’t fit the vibe that I want it to give.”

Han put his hands onto his face, clearly stressed.

“Why don’t you like ‘Roads’?” Changbin swivels his chair around to look at Chan, “I think it’s good and the lyrics are good?”

‘Roads’ was Chan’s song that he wrote for stays, it’s his solo song in the SKZ-Replay album.

“I just don’t feel like I spent as much time on the song as you guys did with yours. Literally everyone has deeper meaning to their own songs, even Lino!”

Han looks up and turns to Changbin, “He has a point there. Lee know hyung isn’t one to be emotional and then he literally wrote 나지막이 (limbo).“

“Besides, the company will probably allow me to change it, it’s only June and we’re releasing it in December.” Chan sits back up, “And I’ll just release ‘Roads’ if I don’t come up with anything.”

Han shrugs at Changbin. Now it’s Changbin’s turn to lean back into his chair, “Why not. It’s not like we’re going to be able to change your mind.”

Chan starts packing up his things, “Good.”

“Where are you going?” Han questions his sudden movements.

“We’re done here… so I’m going?” he says as he places his laptop into his bag.

Another shared glance between Han and Changbin, a state of confusement since their hyung is never first to leave.

“Look I’ll meet you guys back at the dorm.” giving a peace sign before exiting the room, leaving Han and Changbin baffled.

----

You have arrived, announces the car’s GPS.

Chan parks on the street outside of a building, Connections, a cafe. Chan looks at the outside before entering, he hasn’t been here in years.

----

“Yeah, I’m gonna surprise him at the ice skating rink,” You say while getting in the car, “He doesn’t know that I came back during spring break.”

“I can’t believe you flew back for him, don’t you ever learn your lesson,” your friend announces after your phone connects to your car.

“Look it’s been rough between us for a while and I want to clear things up, I feel like we just need to see each other and things will go back to normal.” You turn on the car, “Jihyo, I know you’ve never liked him but you didn’t even give him a chance!”

You can hear a sigh on the end of the line, “Whatever babe, I love you. I’ll be back home later tonight.”

You return an I love you and end the call.

----

“How long do you want to pay for?” an employee asks.

You check your watch, 11:30am, “I’ll stay for 2 hours.”

As you sit down and put on your skates you check your phone to see your boyfriend’s location, he’s been here for 30 minutes already.

You remember he said that he was planning on going ice skating with his friends today when you had called him last night, and since you didn’t know how to surprise him, why not here while he’s with his friends…?

The ice skating rink is filled with people, so you look before getting on the ice to see if you can see your boyfriend. You see him, wearing one of the jackets you had bought him, and warmth rushes to your cheeks.

As you step onto the ice you start towards him, the rink is quite large so you decide to call out to him, “Jae-”

You stop yourself once you see someone slide into him. A girl. Maybe it’s just an accident, you tell yourself. Jaebum, your boyfriend, wraps his arms around her, hugging her. You stop skating towards him, watching from a distance as he laughs and kisses her forehead.

Your heart stops, as your eyes follow the girl as she gets off the rink and walks towards the restroom.

You don’t even realize you're following her until, “Your hair is so cute!”, you say.

“Ah, thank you!” the girl blushes as she touches up her short black hair in the mirror, “I love your long hair, it's gorgeous!”

“You and your boyfriend look so cute together,” you take out your lip oil, what am I doing?

The girl notices your lip oil, “Omg I have that one too!” as she takes out the dior lip oil to show you, “yeah, he’s actually not my boyfriend…yet!”

You turn to her, heart breaking since she’s so sweet, “oh really?”, from your intuition, you know she doesn’t know you, she seems like a good girl.

“He’s taken me on a few dates here and there, but I haven’t decided if I want him to be my boyfriend,” she leans in to whisper, “he is just a bit older than me, haha.”

You pretend like you don’t know that and gasp, “Omg how old is he, how old are you?”

“He's only 3 years older than me, I’m 24.” she smiles.

“Me too!” you exclaim, suddenly all you want to do is scream at Jaebum.

“Well it was wonderful meeting you!” you say before waving bye and quickly exiting.

You spot Jaebum on the ice talking to one of his friends. As you get on the ice, his friend spots you before he could, “Y-Y/n?”

Jaebum turns around, color slowly leaves his face, “Y-y/n! What are you doing here!” He pretends to act excited as he looks around.

“Surprise!” you act, forcing your whole body to hug him back when he hugs you, it makes you want to throw up.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again breathlessly, “shouldn’t you be overseas?”

“Wouldn’t you like that,” you say under your breath before looking up at him, “Jagi, you’re wearing the jacket I got you! It looks so good!”

As you pretend to check him out in his jacket he starts to panic, “Aren’t you tired? You’re probably tired, you should go home and rest. I’ll bring dinner tonight!”

You stop and hold his hand, “omg jagi, I was in the restroom and I met the sweetest girl! You have to meet her.”

At that moment whatever color was left on his face left, it looked like his soul left his body, “jagi,” he starts, you wince at the nickname.

“Jaebum?” The voice behind you makes you smile.

You turn and look at the girl, on her face is pure confusement, you see her look at you holding his hand. Jaebum quickly wiggles his hand out of yours, your heart breaks a little.

“Miyeon-ah.” Jaebum takes place in between you both, “Look, I can explain.”

“Miyeon… what a cute name,” you sadly smile before looking at Jaebum, “I saw you hold her.”

“J-jagi, I didn’t mean it,” Jaebum puts his hands up.

“Jagi?” Miyeon questions, her face trying to put the pieces together, “Are you guys dating?”

You look at Jaebum waiting for him to answer her but he just stays silent, “Jaebum was my boyfriend.”

“Was?” Jaebum looks at you, but you’re still looking at Miyeon as she realizes the situation.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know he was in a relationship.” Miyeon’s face drops, “I should leave.”

“No don’t,” Jaebum then turns to her, “can I explain?”

“Please don’t, you have nothing to explain to me.” Miyeon replies before she waves to you and skates off.

Jaebum just watches her leave, “Y/n, I didn’t mean it, we were just good friends.”

You scoff at his words. You see his friend Jackson turn away not even believing him because he’s clearly in the wrong.

“How long?” That's all you wanted to ask, that’s all you wanted to know, maybe.

“Y/n please.” Jaebum takes your hands into his.

“How long, Jaebum.”

“I only took her on 5 dates. It started in June. It’s only been a month.”

“Only?” you look at him slightly hurt, “we’ve been dating for almost year and you’re gonna throw it away to have some fling?”

“I didn’t plan on getting that close to her, Y/n. you have to believe me.” Jaebum waves Jackson off to go elsewhere, “It was just a little lonely for me, you’re all the way overseas doing your stuff and you’re always busy nowadays.”

You pull your hands from his, “you’re blaming you cheating on me being busy?”

“That’s not what I’m trying to say, Jagi. I just want to say I’m sorry and that we can move on from this and grow stronger.” Jaebum holds your shoulders, “I didn’t mean to kiss her, it was always out of stress and loneliness, I just really missed you.”

“Kis– Jaebum don’t touch me.” you step away from him.

Jaebum moves to try to hug you, but his bracelet on his wrist starts going off notifying that his time on the ice is over.

“Look, do you want to go somewhere else and talk about this? Let’s try not to make a scene.” Jaebum sees Jackson getting off the ice, trying to move towards the exit.

“Make a scene? Seriously.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

You look at Jaebum, then check the time, you still have 45 minutes left before your time is up, “You should go.”

Jaebum looks at you, then his bracelet, “text me whenever you’re ready okay? I love you.”

You cringe at those words, yet watch his back as he heads out to leave in sadness, not wanting him to go.

---

You’re in shock as you skate alone around and around the rink, trying to waste your time. You get a notification from your phone, Jihyo:

I get off a little late today, so I’ll bring some food home ;P

You decide to text her and tell her what happened, when you hear a voice say, “Bin I’m actually gonna leave you, you’re embarrassing me.”

This wakes you up from your deluded thoughts, and you stare at the two people who happened to be in front of you, one gripping onto the wall and the other, slightly taller than the other, blonde hair peeking out under his beanie.

“Chan?” you hear yourself whisper.

But you’re completely drowned out by another boy taller than them both coming by to completely push the one gripping onto the wall. As he’s desperately trying not to fall, that's when you hear it.

Chan’s laugh. The sweetest and most contagious laugh you’ve ever heard, it makes your heart ache yet feel so warm.

The laugh distracts you from your thoughts so well that it also distracts you from reality, you’re able to snap out of it, when you’re suddenly hit and falling to the ground.

“Ouch,” you grab onto your wrist that you fell on.

Your nose is suddenly filled with the scent of his cologne, bringing back memories you did not want to feel right now. Feelings starting to worsen your current heartbreak with a past heartbreak.

He starts, as he rushes to get up and off of you, “I'm so sorry. I am truly so sorry.” He stretches out his hand for you, “are you okay?”

Does he not recognize me? You wonder as you start to get up using the wall, “You don’t have to apologize, it’s okay.”

Chan tries to make eye contact with you, “Do you need help or do you need anything?”

This is embarrassing, he’s the exact same as before. His actions start to irritate you, “”N-no, it’s really okay.”

I’m done here. This is the worst day ever. You’re thinking as you skate off.

You walk and text Jihyo, Jaebum cheated on me and I just literally ran into Chan.

You find your shoes and start taking off your skates. Your phone’s notification starts to go off, thinking it’s from Jihyo you pick it up, instead it’s from Jackson.

Hey y/n, look I know we’re not the closest, but I just wanted to say that I didn’t know you guys were even dating still. Jaebum told me and the guys that you guys broke up a little after you flew back to the States. I’m sorry that he’s been lying to you. - Jackson

This makes your eyes start to water, you’re not sure whether to be angry, hurt or –

“Hi I’m the guy who fell into you earlier”

5 years Chan, trust me I know you.

“I really am sorry about that, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

You scoff at his words, they’re so familiar, “You want to make sure I’m okay?”

“Um yes,” hesitation in his voice, “I just want to know if I hurt you badly and you’re just hiding it.”

Hearing this from your ex is not the best feeling. Especially when he doesn’t even remember you, or does he? So you decide to make eye contact with him, feeling pathetic yet angry as you still have tears in your eyes, “No Chan, don’t worry you didn’t hurt me at all.”

His face suddenly drops, from the nice guy act he was playing, as he steps back a little he questions, “Shit, Y/n?”

“Sorry you might’ve forgotten me, my bad.” You stand up and brush his shoulder as you walk out.

author's note: OKAY so I think I'll release every day until this story is done, around 10-11 pm PST time 👍 I'm not entirely sure honestly but I'll try to be active as long as people want more 🙏

#stray kids #skz #slow burn #bang chan #bang chan fluff #fluff #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz scenarios #skz smut #pov #angst #skz angst #skz soft thoughts

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ohdorothea · 2 months ago

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This tournament is being run by and for queer fans so please keep that in mind! Homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More polls here and more info here! Lyrics for the songs and FAQ under the cut!

Back To December lyrics

I'm so glad you made time to see me

How's life? Tell me, how's your family?

I haven't seen them in a while

You've been good, busier than ever

We small talk, work and the weather

Your guard is up and I know why

Because the last time you saw me

Is still burned in the back of your mind

You gave me roses and I left them there to die

So, this is me swallowing my pride

Standin' in front of you sayin', "I'm sorry for that night"

And I go back to December all the time

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missin' you

Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine

I go back to December, turn around and make it alright

I go back to December all the time

These days, I haven't been sleeping

Stayin' up, playing back myself leavin'

When your birthday passed and I didn't call

Then I think about summer, all the beautiful times

I watched you laughin' from the passenger side

And realized I loved you in the fall

And then the cold came, the dark days

When fear crept into my mind

You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye

So, this is me swallowing my pride

Standin' in front of you, sayin', "I'm sorry for that night"

And I go back to December all the time

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missin' you

Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine

I go back to December, turn around and change my own mind

I go back to December all the time

I miss your tanned skin, your sweet smile

So good to me, so right

And how you held me in your arms that September night

The first time you ever saw me cry

Maybe this is wishful thinkin'

Probably mindless dreaming

But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right

I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't

So, if the chain is on your door, I understand

But this is me swallowing my pride

Standin' in front of you, sayin', "I'm sorry for that night"

And I go back to December

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missin' you

Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine

I go back to December, turn around and make it alright

I go back to December, turn around and change my own mind

I go back to December all the time

All the time

🫶🫶🫶

Mine lyrics

Ah-ah, ah-ah

You were in college working part-time, waitin' tables

Left a small town, never looked back

I was a flight risk with a fear of falling

Wonderin' why we bother with love if it never lasts

I say, "Can you believe it?"

As we're lyin' on the couch

The moment I could see it

Yes, yes, I can see it now

Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water?

You put your arm around me for the first time

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

You are the best thing that's ever been mine

Flash forward and we're takin' on the world together

And there's a drawer of my things at your place

You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded

You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes

But we got bills to pay

We got nothing figured out

When it was hard to take

Yes, yes, this is what I thought about

Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water?

You put your arm around me for the first time

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

You are the best thing that's ever been mine

Do you remember all the city lights on the water?

You saw me start to believe for the first time

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

You are the best thing that's ever been mine

Oh-oh, oh

And I remember that fight, 2:30AM

As everything was slippin' right out of our hands

I ran out cryin' and you followed me out into the street

Braced myself for the goodbye

'Cause that's all I've ever known

Then you took me by surprise

You said, "I'll never leave you alone"

You said, "I remember how it felt sitting by the water

And every time I look at you, it's like the first time

I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter

She is the best thing that's ever been mine"

Hold on and make it last

Hold on, never turn back

(Hold on) You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

(Hold on) You are the best thing that's ever been mine

Yes, yes, do you believe it? (Hold on)

Yes, yes, we're gonna make it now (Hold on, yeah)

Yes, yes, and I can see it (Hold on)

Yes, yes, I can see it now (See it now, see it now)

🫶🫶🫶

The question is which song is queerer to you! Queerer can mean whatever you want it to mean; you might consider a song queer because you think it was written that way, or because of Swiftian lore. It might be queer to you because of how you relate it to your own life. Maybe you think from a purely literary standpoint the lyrics have queer themes; maybe you're just thinking about vibes!!!

If you’d like to send in interpretations or propaganda for a specific song you can send them to my inbox! All interpretations are welcome and let’s be open and kind in response to all interpretations <3

#tsqst

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averagewriter-inthedark · 7 months ago

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The Factory & Pie 🥧 | Agent K imagine P.2

Part 1 | Masterlist Directory

Characters & Pairings: Agent K x MiB agent!reader (romantic)

Content warnings: fluff, profanity, angst, mentions of death, violence, blood & injury, age gape (read the note in part 1), cannon divergence, suggestive themes, shitty realities women & queer had to go through in the 60s, friends/strangers-to-lovers | female!reader (she/her) | wc 10k

Premise: Getting stuck in 1969 was not ideal. Especially when it means having to be navigate through clues to stop a homicidal manic all while keeping a clueless agent in the dark of what possible future might occur if they fail. And with feelings brewing causing her mind to question everything she's ever known about her relationship with K, Agent Y/I had her work cut out for her.

Note: dialogue and scenes from mib are credit to the original creators, I did add dialogue to the scenes for Y/I's character.

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

1969

The 12th of July

The sweet aroma of coffee and cigarettes woke Y/I the next morning. Eyes opening to a blur of glowing light from the sun entering through the blinds. A long yawn released, Y/I’s arms stretching over her head to comb fingers through her damp hair. Too exhausted to blow-dry it the night before after her shower. It was when her vision cleared that Y/I sat up in a haste, the memory of the previous day coming back to her. “It wasn’t a dream.”

Boris escaped prison. Went back in time to kill K. Her K ceased to exist and now she’s in 1969 to prevent Boris from succeeding. All in the span in 24 hours.

God she was going to need a fat margarita when this was over.

Throwing back the covers, Y/I flung herself out of the bed and into the bathroom. Cold water splashed her face, letting out a deep breath before looking at herself in the mirror. The exhaustion was evident in her features, hair wild and untamed, crinkles more pronounced, but hey, that came with aging.

It took a moment to register that the clothes she wore were not her own. A Rolling Stones shirt and sweatpants belonging to K. ‘Sweet Jesus,’ she scolded herself when the heat returned to her chest, ‘Get it together, Y/I. Stop acting like a giddy school girl--You’re in your 40s for Christ’s sake, not your 20s.’ This was the first time Y/I slept over at K’s, only ever stopping by briefly when they needed weapons or Y/I bringing dinner to make sure the man ate.

Even the times Y/I was drunk off her ass K made sure to get her home safely. Just another example of him being the best partner in the world. If there was one thing he knew about his partner is she loved her bed more than anything in the world.

And she was really missing it now.

Grabbing a comb, mentally praying it was one K used for his hair, Y/I tackled her own as best she could and pulled it into a tidy bun. White-gray sections bright now that the dirt had been washed away from K tackling her at Coney Island. It pained her to not have her hair products but she made do. Come to think of it, she didn’t have anything. Toothbrush, skincare, makeup. What the fuck was she going to do for the next four days? It’s not like she can buy anything. Her credit card was a lost cause.

Exiting the bathroom the smell grew stronger. Bringing a wave of nostalgia as she breathed it in and so she followed it, glancing at the clock to find it was 7:30am. ‘God, you’d think the time travel jet lag would’ve let me get a few extra hours of sleep,’ she frowned.

Walking into the kitchen connected to the living space, Y/I came to an abrupt stop at the scene in front of her. Eyes bulging as they landed on K’s back, clad in a white t-shirt and plaid sweatpants. Toned arms and muscle, flexing each time he moved across the kitchen to grab something. A lone cigarette on an ashtray, releasing smoke from the filter each time K took a drag before putting it back to continue his work.

On the radio the soft tune of The Ronettes played, and Y/I felt herself itching further into the room, eyes still on K as she fought against the weird thoughts she was having.

“Coffee?” His voice snapped her out, the woman clearing her throat before taking claim to a barstool.

“Yes, thank you.”

“How do you take it?”

“Black, two sugars,” the words flew out naturally, considering it’d been her stable for the last ten years. Any time K got their coffee he tended to get her the same as him, and after a while she became used to it. Occasionally Y/I treated herself to a latte or cappuccino, but nothing kept her energy going like simply black coffee with two sugars.

She noticed K’s surprised reaction before replacing it with something unreadable. Busy himself by pouring the coffee into two mugs and dropping the sugar cubes in before mixing it up and passing Y/I hers. Thanking him again, she brought the steaming cup to her lips, letting out a sound of content, missing K’s strange expression when he took in her state. Seeing her in his clothes emerged a tingling sensation in his chest. Hiding the blush threatening to paint his cheeks. Y/I gestured to the ashtray, “Got another you can spare for a lady?”

In a flash K produced a cigarette and a lighter, the agent giving an appreciative smile as she took them. Lighting the filter, Y/I let the tobacco enter her system as she took in the apartment, then raised a brow, “Where’s my suit?” She hadn’t seen it since K gave her the spare clothes to sleep in.

“In the dryer,” he pointed to an ancient machine that made Y/I do a double take. Of course her family had the same growing up, but it still was a shock to see after all these years. “Thought it could use a clean after yesterday.”

His words had Y/I narrowing her brows, albeit playfully. “I wonder why.” K hid his smirk behind his mug, Y/I mirroring it. “I should be offended you tackled me, but I did ruffle you up so….” She shrugged, blowing out smoke. “I guess we’re even.”

“I guess so,” K agreed with a chuckle. Reaching over to turn the music down, K leaned against the counter, now looking at Y/I with curiosity. “Where’d you learn how to fight like that anyway?”

She hadn’t expected that question, placing her mug down while tapping away the ash on the cigarette, “What, trying to get some pointers, cowboy?” The comment made his eyes roll, but smirk still on his lips. “I did martial arts growing up,” she explained, propping an arm on the counter to rest her chin on her knuckles. “Then I had a personal trainer who specialized in hand-to-hand. Came in handy both with MiB and the job I had prior.” That piqued K’s interest, but he decided not to ask. Y/I took another puff, “So, I hate to be that girl….but I need a huge favor.”

K’s face became concerned, clicking his tongue, “Depends on the favor, slick.”

“You can relax, K, I’m not asking you to steal a galaxy,” her hand waved, “but when I woke up yesterday it was not my plan to be in 1969 nearly a week so I’m gonna need to acquire some,” she waves again, “personal necessities if you will. Like a toothbrush for starters,” Y/I nods for emphasis and continues, “deodorant, perfume, and call me vain if you must, but I need face sunscreen. And some face powder and mascara.”

K thought for a moment, finishing his coffee and cigarette first before saying, “sure thing, slick. Get dressed and we’ll go.”

Y/I straightened her posture, giving him a look before pointing to the dryer, “with what clothes?” Twenty minutes later the two were in his car, Y/I tugging at the collar of her black & white polka dot dress. “Well this isn’t what I had in mind. I haven’t worn a dress since your 65th birthday party.” The comment resulted in a baffled look from K, not wanting to picture himself at 65 just yet. Y/I held back a laugh, “Sorry, pretty boy. I forgot the most frightening thing for young people is growing up.” She looked at her attire before raising a brow, “Also whose dress was this? If you don’t mind me asking.”

K’s attention remained on the road, a distant look in his eyes Y/I picked up on, making her regret the question. “A friend of mine left it,” was all he said. And it didn’t take a genius to know it wasn’t exactly a ‘friend’ he was referring to. Y/I understood, leaning back in her seat to stare out the window.

They arrived at a shopping mall, K moving at a quick pace to open Y/I’s door, making her look at him aghast but accepting his hand. Careful not to trip on the pavement in her heels as she stepped out.

The outdoor shopping mall was pretty busy for a Wednesday morning. Buzzing with young ladies and college kids. K, the generous man he was--not to mention the circumstances--paid for Y/I’s items. Since it was the 60s all the brands Y/I enjoyed didn’t exist. However she was excited to see Revlon and Besame, grabbing a red lipstick, powder, and mascara. When K questioned her whistle, staring wide-eyed at the prices she said, “Let’s just say the prices for these things in the future are not as sweet. Just these three alone cost me $30.” K returned her expression, making note to not complain anymore about the cost of items.

Small bag in hand, the two headed to the food court for a bite to eat. “Unfortunately, I can’t pay you back till 2012,” her tone was teasing as he handed her a bagel with cream cheese and coffee, but serious nonetheless. “Hope you can understand.” All K did was chuckle, nodding as he bit into his own bagel. Escorting her to a table, the two sat and enjoyed their breakfast in silence. All while keeping watch for any suspicious activity.

When they finished, they returned to K’s place just before 10 allowing Y/I time to freshen up. Applying the products instantly made her feel better. Once her teeth were brushed she doused herself in perfume and deodorant before going to retrieve her suit. It was then she remembered the important object in her pocket. Heart dropping slightly at the fear it was gone. Her pace increased.

“K,” Y/I called out, catching him at the bartop reading the morning paper. His head turned to her as she strolled up to where he sat. “Quick question. I know you said you confiscated everything on me at HQ and well, did you happen to find a pocket watch? If so,” she leaned against the counter, a thin pressed smile plastered on her, “may I have it back, please?”

Her eyes were laser focused on K as he reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out the item igniting a breath of relief from the agent. Happy the watch was safe and back in her hands. Unfortunately the time jump must’ve been too much for the old gadget. The hands frozen in place. Y/I pressed it close to her chest, closing her eyes.

Inside she was exploding. Heart aching with grief for what life would've been if her dad had stayed. She’d been so young Y/I forgot what he looked like. But she remembered how it felt to be with him. Carefree, happy. Warm like the sun’s rays or the joys of seeing a rainbow.

She missed that feeling. Deeply.

When her eyes opened she was met with K’s, watching her gingerly. As if reading his mind Y/I answered his unspoken question, “It was my father’s.” He made an ‘ah’ sound. Soft and empathetic. Brushing a finger over the smooth surface, Y/I’s sighed again. Letting her shoulders drop as she admired the watch. “I’m sorry if I came off harsh I was worried I’d lost it,” she held it up, closer to her face, “It’s the only thing I have left of him.”

“I take it he passed?” K gently asked, holding back his shocked reaction when she shook her head.

“No, uh,” her throat cleared, the lump forming being forced back where it came. Praying her eyes didn’t show her feelings as she didn’t want to breach this aspect of her personal life with this K just yet. She put on a brave face, “I actually don’t know. He’s just been out of the picture for a while.” What more could she say? It was the truth and all she had.

Excusing herself, leaving K to his thoughts, Y/I picked up her clean and ironed suit--she made a note to thank him later--and went to the bathroom to change.

Honestly she should’ve just stayed in the comfortable clothes, because when she re-entered the room K put her on house arrest. Stating, “X is under the impression you were neuralized. If he sees you we’re both screwed.” Okay he had a point there. “I’m trusting you to stay here while I go and try to get as much info as I can. Can you do that?”

Defeated and out of options, Y/I agreed and gave a two-finger salute, watching silently as K left the apartment. Leaving her alone. For the rest of the day she entertained herself with magazines, books from his vast collection, and people watching from the terrace. At one point in her search for a book, Y/I stumbled upon a photo album dated 1960. Covered in dust which she blew off and examined with interest.

Was it a good idea? Probably not, it felt like an invasion of privacy. K’s past was a mystery despite their long partnership. Each time Y/I attempted to learn more about him the response was, “I promised you the secrets of the universe, Y/I. Not my own.” That same voice was breaching her mind now.

Curiosity got the better of her, however, and Y/I checked her surroundings before settling on the chair beside the bookcase. Opening the album to get a glimpse at K’s life before MiB.

With each page turn Y/I’s smile widened. Admiring the young man just entering his 20s, not having a clue what lay in store for him. Carefree and optimistic. In a year’s time he’d be stumbling on a scene unworldly, when got lost on the wrong back road.

As she closed the album shut, Y/I felt an overwhelming sense of grief consume her. So sudden it gave her whiplash, hand coming to her chest where her heart pounded against her ribs. A volcanic eruption of turmoil she’d been holding since discovering K died. Now alone to her thoughts, the agony begging to release finally snapped. Groaning as the tears began to flow.

She sat there crying for what felt like ages but was only ten minutes. Sniffing as she pulled herself together. Her eyes now puffy and red, mascara ruined as the product of the time had yet to discover the wonders of waterproof makeup. Wiping furiously at the tears that dripped onto the album’s cover, destroying any evidence in case K were to go down memory lane in the future.

Oh, K. How he came to be the most important person in Y/I’s life was one of history’s greatest mysteries. They were complete opposites yet fit together. K kept her grounded, and Y/I brought out a warm side of him. Agents referred to them as an old married couple with how much they bickered and took care of each other. “We’re just great partners,” Y/I always responded with, finding humor in the suggestion and brushing it off as a funny joke. Missing how the agents were actually surprised, having been fully convinced the two were a thing.

Now, with a deep, unfamiliar, emotion swarming inside, Y/I questioned that exact statement. But there was one thing for sure she knew: failure was not an option. She was going to fix the damn timeline and save K.

Placing the album back in its right place, the agent spent the rest of the day reading 2001: A Space Odyssey, occasionally stepping out on the terrace to smoke so the smell didn’t overpower the apartment. When it got closer to five she explored what K had to offer food wise. As a 29-year-old bachelor working for a secret agency sometimes involving sixteen-hour days, his fridge and pantry definitely showed for it.

“Gotta make the most of it,” Y/I said to herself, reaching for whatever she could find. Thankfully K had enough to make fettuccine alfredo. Y/I brought a pot of water to a boil, adding the noodles in before getting to work on the sauce. Heating the oil, butter, garlic, and cheese into a pan until it reached the perfect consistency to toss the cooked noodles in. “Thank God,” she cheered upon finding a frozen bag of broccoli in the tiny freezer, quickly steaming it to include in the pasta.

The agent was in the middle of plating the food right as K walked through the door. Exhaustion painting his features, soon replaced with confusion as he smelled a delicious aroma in the kitchen.

“Right on time,” Y/I chuckled, shutting off the stove.

“Right on time for what?” K’s question was answered with a plate of pasta shoved in his hands. Brows furrowed causing the wrinkles in his forehead to become pronounced.

“Eat,” the order came, spatula waving around but careful not to get any sauce on the man. “If there’s one thing I know about future K is he likes to skip dinner when a case becomes overwhelming. That ain’t happening on my watch.”

Stunned and at a loss for words, K accepted the fork Y/I presented and sat at the bartop. Silently eating the meal while Y/I stood at the counter facing him. The scene was rather domestic, and both agents were battling thoughts in their head at what it meant. For Y/I it was nostalgic. Thinking back to all the times she forced her way into K’s apartment with take out or bags of groceries to cook after long days at the agency. In the beginning he argued with her, told her it wasn’t necessary, but soon learned to enjoy the routine as it went on.

For the young agent with years ahead of him until he recruits the mysterious yet vibrant woman, K was getting a glimpse into his future. An adventurous, exciting--and sometimes unorthodox--life he’ll live. So far he liked what he saw, confirmed with the feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

‘Wait, what? Butterflies? Oh no.’

Y/I’s voice brought K out of his daydream, “So…learn anything interesting?” Too immersed in her food, she missed how a blush appeared on his cheeks. K adjusting his suit collar and giving a nod.

“We’ve got an agent currently stationed at the Factory. I’ll make contact with him once we’re there and see what he knows.” she hummed to show she was listening. K continued, “X is still in the dark, I had O type up what we know to go over tonight. No news on Boris and where he’s hiding,” He trailed off, watching Y/I’s grip on her fork tighten. “Other than that there’s not much else. What did you do with your day?”

“Read your books--or re-read them as I should say,” her smile lit up the room, igniting a warmth in K’s chest. “Your collection in the future is much more impressive, but It’s nice to see what your taste in literature was at this time.”

The small talk continued over dishes. Sticking to the case mostly and Y/I doing her damn best not to let anything slip about the main reason she was in 1969. Not ready to climb that hill yet. Of course she felt guilty keeping it from K, but she kept telling herself it was for the best.

For the sake of the future and all.

Already the mission screwed up the second he caught her so telling K posed a greater risk. All she had to do was wait it out. Buy more time.

That should be easy…right?

Whatever happens, Y/I didn't let the fear consume her. Today, albeit boring for the most part, had no alien attacks or the agents running in circles to find clues. They had their next to the puzzle, and it was waiting for them at the Factory.

Tomorrow, they’ll be one step closer to Boris.

The 13th of July

“There’s an event this afternoon at the Factory,” K announced the next morning, Y/I already dressed with her coffee in hand. Passing K a mug she’d already prepared, smirking at his shocked expression before he thanked her.

“What time?”

“Just after six.” Y/I hummed, sipping her drink as her lip jutted into a pout.

“And what the hell are we to do in the meantime? I can’t just sit here all day while you’re at headquarters, K. I need to be working on this case. After all, I’m the one who traveled from the future to do it,” She’ll be damned if she got left behind for a second time.

K buttoned his blazer, moving to check himself in the mirror. “I haven’t forgotten, slick. Which is why…” He trailed off, approaching with a smirk. Reaching beside her to grab an apple from the basket where a loud crunch echoed as he sank his teeth into the fruit. “We’re goin’ on patrol to pass time.” Y/I choked on her coffee, thinking she misheard him.

“Patrol?” She repeated, tone incredulous. “You mean we’re gonna sit in your car for almost twelve hours prowling the streets of New York in hope Boris or another clue just magically appears out of thin air? That type of patrol?”

K’s face lit up, eyes sparkling like diamonds, making him ten times more attractive and Y/I bit the inside of her cheek. It was so unlike his regular stoic demeanor. Made her wonder what changed him. “Exactly,” K gestured for her to follow. “Let’s get a move on.”

They pulled up to the Factory after a long day of sitting around--at which point Y/I took a bomb ass nap, waking up to the glorious sight of K singing along to The Who---and gave the exterior a once over before Y/I turned to K. “Alright, if Boris is here I’m going to kill him,” her tone was serious, “I need my gun.”

K shook his head, “No deal,” He was exiting the car before she could respond. Y/I groaned, pushing open her own door and closing it with a slam. Not in the mood to be tested.

“Pretty boy, I hate to pull rank but I’ve been an agent for fourteen years and if I recall MiB hasn’t even hit their ten year mark so that makes me the senior agent in this case,” she stepped up to K, who was silent and stoic. “So as senior agent I am instructing you, my junior agent, to give me my gun. And if there’s one trait I took from future you is I don’t like asking a second time,” she put her hand out open-palmed, making a grabby motion. “Gun. Now. That’s an order.”

K’s expression was full of amusement, eyes sparkling as he reached into his pocket to produce a weapon, placing it in Y/I’s palm. Only when she looked down it wasn’t the blaster.

“No, no, I don’t think so. Space gun, K.”

K smirked, walking past his partner, “You’re welcome.” Y/I exhaled, holstering the pistol in defeat and followed after him, “Didn’t say thank you, asshole.”

Entering the building, the two raced up the stairs where they passed two beautiful women. “For such an ungainly species, they’ve really thrived on Earth.” Y/I hummed in agreement.

“Yeah I’d been an agent for a few years before I realized all models were aliens,” they reached the top of the stairs, Y/I clicked her tongue at the memory, “Found out the hard way, but it was still a great time.” K snapped his head to her wide-eyed, confirming the suspicions he had ever since he caught her checking out O and flirting with the male store clerk.

Yes, K was surprised by the revelation, but it didn’t change the way he looked at Y/I. She was his partner and someone he grew to care for in the short time they’ve known each other. Not to mention she’ll be a big part of his future. What mattered to K was getting the job done and surviving to tell it.

Giving the password to the bouncer, K led Y/I into the Factory, which turned out to be a big party in the middle of a fashion show. Y/I scanned the place in awe before settling on a man that made her jaw drop. “Is that Andy Warhol?”

K followed her eyesight, then shocked her by approaching the photographer. “Yep.”

“Holy shit,” Y/I walked behind him, stunned but kept her guard up nonetheless. Watching for any unusual persons. Holding back from winking at the attractive people eyeing her up. Her patience began to thin when Andy kept refusing K’s request to come with him to answer a few questions.

She finally snapped when he said, “Why don’t you come back next week, after the happening has happened,” in his slow, monotone voice which had her move beside K to take over. Hand coming to his shoulder while the other reached to grab Andy’s forearm, “I’m sorry, Mr. Warhol, you’re talking real slow and my patience is thin. We’ve got important stuff to do and I’ve got a planet to save.”

He struggled against her hold, Y/I dragging the renowned artist away from the party until they were away from prying eyes. Complaining the entire way. Once in the dressing room K shut the curtains and joined the two.

Y/I’s jaw slacked as Andy’s hand raised, removing what actually was a wig on his head. “Now that’s something.”

“Dammit, K, you tryin’ to blow my cover!” the wig flew into K’s chest, dropping onto the floor by Y/I’s feet. The glasses were removed next, K holding a hand up to calm the situation.

“Agent W, your cover is safe.”

Y/I blinked, “you mean to tell me Andy Warhol is one of us?” Now she wanted to know what other celebrities past and present secretly were MiB agents. Micheal Jackson tried once but didn’t make the cut.

“Safe,” Andy scoffed angrily. “Are you out of your mind? I’m so out of ideas--I’m painting soup cans and bananas for Christ’s sake.”

A few minutes later, after Y/I and W butt heads and were seconds away from fist fighting causing K to step in, the agent busied herself by surveying the place. Exchanging glances with beautiful people, humans and aliens, but unlike before none caught her attention to have a second look. Smiling instead of a flirtatious wink she usually threw to those she found attractive.

As she migrated to the middle of the factory, a short man wearing winter clothes--severely out of place in comparison to the attendees, caught her attention. Mostly because he was grinning like a mad man at her. Still, she politely greeted him, “Hello. How’s it going?”

“Going? How’s it going? That depends,” he replied at a record speed. “For me, personally, good, things are good--.”

Y/I was about to cut him off gently to depart but then he started rambling, “Unless, of course, we’re in the possible future we’re the muscle boy near the door argues with his girlfriend,” Y/I followed the direction his finger pointed, landing on the scene he was describing. “Which causes her to storm away and bump into the guy carrying the stuffed mushrooms, who then dumps the tray on the sailors on leave. And a shoving match breaks out and they crash into the coffee table here,” Y/I watched it all play out as the man spoke, eyes widening in disbelief and turning back to see his distressed face. “In which case, I gotta move my plate. Like right now.” He grabs it in the knick of time as the sailor flashes by Y/I and falls straight onto the table. Glass shattering as the crowd watching gasps.

Y/I stared at the now unconscious sailor in a daze, the man coming beside her. “Or if it’s the possible future in which the pastrami sandwich I’m eating causes me gastric distress,” Eyes go back and forth between him and the sailor, processing what the hell just happened while her heart starts to beat out of her chest. “But thankfully, your friend, ma’am, will offer some of the antacids he carries in his right pocket…so good.” He offers her a smile despite her staring at him like he had two heads. “I’ll be good.”

What the actual fuck? Who was this guy, and where the fuck was K? This was above her pay grade.

He just kept going, stunning her even more “Except in the case of the possible future where I have to leave in two and a half minutes just before he has a chance to offer me the antacids. So, on the whole I’d have to say not good. I am not good.”

Yeah Y/I had no fucking clue what to say to that. This dude was spitting possible futures like nobody’s business. Frankly, it was making her worrisome. Trying not to panic in the middle of a crowd.

“But that depends,” he spoke again, then fell silent as the agent remained dumbfounded.

“K!!!” Her shout was useless. K was nowhere in sight, still talking to the Warhol dude.

Suddenly the man in front of her asked, “May I see your watch?”

Y/I hummed, pulling back her sleeve to check the time, “Oh, it’s 7:18--.”

“No, no,” he shook his head, nodding his head to her pant pocket. “Your other watch, the one your father gave you.”

Her blood ran cold. A sickening feeling in her stomach as the noise around her became muffled. “How….how do you know about my father’s watch?” Now Y/I was really concerned. The future trick was one thing but him having knowledge of the one thing Y/I possessed from her father was another. Still, she removed the pocket watch from its place, presenting it to the man whose face drained of color.

“Oh dear.” He sounded like one does when they're five seconds away from shitting their pants. Anxiety seeping through his words, “This is the one where Roman is dead and the gentleman at the bowling alley. So much death,” the nameless alien’s wide-eyes met Y/I’s. “Such an infinitesimally small chance for success.”

Now was the time to panic. “K!!!!”

Speaking of the devil. He finally shows his face, and he’s calm as ever. “Griffin, right?” Seeing Y/I’s alarmed face had K go, “Hey, we’re here--.”

“Because of Boris the Animal.”

“Correct. We believe he may be coming--.” Giffin cut him off again.

“To kill me. Yes, he’ll be here in two minutes--.” Y/I’s hand went to her holster, panning a hard look to K, who held his hand up to calm her. “--unless of course we’re in the possible future where he made all the lights on Bowery and got here early and is just about to discharge a weapon from the doorway in which case, we’re all dead in two seconds.”

Sweat coated Y/I’s forehead, staring at the door as they waited. When Boris didn’t appear they all let out a breath of relief. Griffin smiled, “Ah, good, that was a close one.” Still the threat remained, and there’s no way in hell a pistol would do damage to a ravaging alien on a homicidal rampage.

“Alright, K, darling, now's the time. I need my space gun,” her request was ignored, the woman glaring daggers into his profile while he listened to Griffin. She was going to kick his ass.

The alien sounded in distress, “The Boglodites consume any planet in their path. Mine, Roman’s, the Parlaxians. I tried to stop them, but if we can stop them here--if we can deny them Earth,” he paused, looking hopeful, “we can stop them forever. They’ll starve before they reach the next planet.” Suddenly they were interrupted by the sound of his stomach growling. “Pfft. Sixty-three seconds.”

“Well, how do we do that?” K cut in, right as the alien took a bite of his sandwich, “Stop them?”

“What? Oh!” Griffin placed his food back on the plate, passing it to K. “Sorry. I have something for you. A gift,” he specified, still chewing. And before Y/I had the chance to laugh at K’s reaction to being handed the plate, the smirk on her face disappeared when he shoved it towards her. “It can protect you. I had to hide it from Boris, but if you find me again, I’ll give it to you.” Griffin took back the plate from Y/I with a grin. “Thank you. What a game! Amazing! It’s a real miracle!”

He started to leave but Y/I’s hand shot out, clutching his arm in a firm grip. “Hold on, buddy. What do you mean by a miracle?”

“Thirty seconds. I have to go.”

“Wait, no, no, no. We got you, okay,” she assured.

“Negative possibilities are multiplying as we speak,” his voice trembled, on the verge of hyperventilating. “Twenty seconds.”

Cursing at herself, Y/I placed her hands on his shoulders to guide away from the direction he was originally going. Moving him behind the agents. “Okay, relax. I got it.”

Griffin did not relax. “If your watch is broken and I have gastric---.”

“Fly,” a man’s voice shouted in the distance. “Find your place in the world!”

“Oh dear.” The group turns to find a swarm of butterflies around the man in question. Unlike the rest of the party guests, however, Griffin wanted to vomit. “This is the one where Boris is coming through that door in twelve, eleven, ten--.” K reached into his pocket for a gun. A second later Griffin shouted, “Wait!” drawing his gaze to Y/I. “Did you have chocolate milk this morning?”

The agent was flabbergasted, her face depicting it, “Wha--yeah I did.” Griffin winced, attention focused on behind her shoulder.

“Cindy…” Screams erupted as the name left Griffin’s mouth. Y/I spun around, gun in hand as the adrenaline kicked in upon seeing Boris standing on the windowsill. Party guests shoved passed one another to escape, and Boris shot another spike in their direction. Missing embedding into a large balloon.

“K, follow Griffin!” she yelled, watching the alien take his chance to run. People ducked to avoid the spikes, Boris aiming at both Griffin and K, but thankfully his aim was off each time. Charging toward the Boglodite, Y/I raised the pistol and fired two shots. “Dammit!” Boris leaped from the window, landing on the streets below. Without thinking she followed after, hauling herself onto the ledge. Traveling down each platform to save herself from breaking her heels.

Huffing once on the ground Y/I launched into a sprint, climbing onto the hood of an empty car before aiming her gun. As soon as Boris got in her sights she fired. Shot after shot. The alien dodged each bullet while pedestrians seeked shelter.

Then suddenly Y/I felt a searing pain in her right cheek. The flesh ripped open as a spike sliced across the agent's face. “Gaaah!!” It was like hot metal branding her skin. The entire right side of her face throbbing it made Y/I’s head spin. Jaw completely numb. The bitter smell of iron filled her nostrils, gun dropping to apply pressure as blood poured from the gaping wound. Staining the collar of her white dress shirt. The agent moaned, struggling to maintain her balance on the car but the sting traveled down her spine until her knees buckled. Sliding down the car, expecting to hit the harsh pavement but instead arms caught her.

“Hey, hey, I got ya,” K’s gentle tone became alarmed when he processed her state. Locking on the red color coating her face, neck and hands. Horror struck him. “Woah, woah, what the hell happened?”

“Spike,” she stuttered out, wincing as K guided her to the stairs of the building to sit. “I didn’t see him shoot.” Based on the position of her hand, K jumped to the worst conclusion. Thinking it was her neck that’d been hit.

“Fuck,” he cursed, eyes darting around to find something that could help them. “Okay, just--just stay here and keep pressure. I’ll be right back.” He was gone in a flash, racing to the car to retrieve the first aid kit he keeps in the back seat. “Hey!” he spotted an onlooker from the party, watching the scene unfold with a frightened stance. “Get me some napkins--or towels if you can find!” They nodded, running back inside while K went back to Y/I. Sweat beading along his hairline. “Alright darlin’, where exactly are you bleedin’? I need to know.”

Y/I hissed, barely moving her palm off so he could see underneath. “Bastard got me on the cheek.” Relief washed over K. Happy it wasn’t her neck or anywhere close to her aorta.

The good samaritan arrived seconds later with towels. K grabbed them as he thanked the person and with a tender hand, moved Y/I’s hand to replace it with a towel. Putting pressure as best as possible without harming her. While he did that, Y/I snatched the first aid kit and rummaged through to find everything she needed. Aware she needed stitches despite not seeing the damn rip in her face. Luckily applying her own stitches was something Y/I became a pro at over the years. First learning during her time as a detective.

Fuck she still remembered the agony in her shoulder the first time a bullet was lodged. This, however, was ten times worse. Rivaling that of the alien stinger she took to the stomach 9 years prior.

“What are you doin’,” K eyed her wearily as she ripped open a sterilized needle and cut a piece of thread with her teeth.

“I don’t need a doctor to know my face needs stitches, K. I can feel it.”

“You’re not about to do that her’ are ya?” Y/I uncapping a bottle of distilled water before proceeding to flush out the wound made him gawk. Wincing when she let out a hiss, eyes snapping shut. “We need to get ya to the hospital.”

“We can’t call an ambulance or we'll compromise the mission, and I refuse to get blood all over your car. This is the only option,” Y/I repeated the action once more.

“I can call O,” K suggested, noting how the blood flow was starting to slow. A sign of clotting. “She’ll send someone over--.”

“No, we can’t involve anyone from MiB, K, you know that. I’ll be fine once I get this cleaned. Now, please go find me a mirror.” K was hesitant but left Y/I to retrieve the item while she continued the process of cleaning the injury. Then she doused it in rubbing alcohol and was unable to contain the scream. Automatically stinging her eyes with tears. “Fuck! Fucking A, man!”

K returned with the mirror he stole from the makeup department and set it in front of Y/I. For the next twenty minutes or so they sat in silence, with the occasional whimper from the woman, as she sutured her cheek. Racing against whatever daylight they had left.

K had to admit, he was amazed. It’s not every day one gets their cheek nearly blown off by an alien spike and manages to maintain self-control. Sure she was cursing and audibly reacting, but that’s fucking normal to the pain she was feeling. He’s seen agents with tiny injuries acting completely over the top.

By 8pm Y/I finished the stitches, cleaning the area once more and popped a couple ibuprofen in her mouth, swallowing without a chaser. Again, the act left K floored. With a clean towel Y/I doused it with water to start rubbing away the blood on her neck. It didn’t do much, but enough to not make her look straight out of a horror film.

“You good, slick?” K patted shoulder before helping her up. Y/I stumbled but K caught her, waiting until she got her balance to let go. nodding her head while swiping at the sweat.

“Yeah, I’m fine. A little doozy but just give me a minute.” Y/ nodded her head while swiping at the sweat. Body still trembling, but at least the numbness was starting to fade. She bit the inside of her left cheek, pinching her face. “Damn it hurts to talk. I’m gonna need something stronger than ibuprofen.” Unfortunately that wouldn’t be available. As much as Y/I desired morphine they were on the clock. And that meant not being drugged up.

Soon anger replaced her demeanor. Pissed off they lost Boris, and Griffin since the latter was not with K. “Dammit--we had him!”

“Relax, peach. We’ll find him.” That was the last thing she wanted to hear, Y/I moving to pick up her gun before turning back to him with scorned eyes.

“First of all, my name is Y/I. Alright, it’s not ‘sweetheart,’, it’s not ‘slick,’, and it sure as hell ain’t ‘peach’. Look, I’m not going to relax,” She stood beside the agent, breathing heavily. “Do you not understand, we are running out of time. We are running out of clues, and there’s an invasion on its way. I need you to get that through your head,” her hands waved frantically while K sighed. Then she pointed a finger, “we did have one guy who could help. Where is he--Griffin!” Her shouting echoed, calling for the alien who was nowhere in sight. “Griffin! Where’s Griffin, K? Oh, that’s right, He’s gone! And if Boris gets to him before us that is no bueno.”

“We need pie.”

“Excuse me?” was it the blood loss, or did she just hear K say the needed pie after the rant she just unleashed. Of all fucking things.

K, by the grace of God, explained, “My granddaddy always said ‘if you got a problem that you can’t solve,” a finger taps his temple. “It helps to get out of your head.’ Pie. It’s good.”

“Pie,” Y/I nods, following along despite the urge to strangle K where he stood. If she weren’t so lightheaded she’d follow through on her promise of kicking his ass.

“Yeah.”

“My cheek almost got torn off, and you’re suggesting we have pie?” Even saying the words aloud Y/I was in disbelief. Before he answered she lifted a hand, “You know what, we’ve been doing smart stuff these last few days. Real police work like following clues,” the sarcasm was strong, ignoring K shaking his head. “It might be time we do something stupid. Something that has nothing to do with what we need--you know what? Now, I want some pie, K. I want some pie.”

She did not want pie, but needed to get the hell away from the Factory and clear her head before doing something irrational. Plus she desperately craved a cigarette. “C’mon, let’s go get some dumb ass pie.” Not waiting, Y/I turned on her heel towards the car, leaving K standing on the sidewalk. Oblivious to the smirk he bore that his plan worked out.

“Sounds good.”

Sitting in the diner was odd, even with the comforting atmosphere. Yes it was the same diner Y/I frequented with K, but there’s the fact it wasn’t as outdated being it had just opened a few years prior. Unlike in 2012 where the establishment was reaching its 50th anniversary.

A menu in hand, K was deep in thought reading over the food it had to offer. Unsure which pie was more appealing. To his left, Y/I stared at his profile while the waitress’s eyes darted between the two. Unsettled and impatience coating her face by the state of Y/I and because K couldn’t decide.

The blood stained shirt Y/I wore on full display. She kept catching the woman’s gaze flickering between the shirt and her cheek, to which Y/I offered a hesitant smile. Hoping to appease the situation. It didn’t help that the agent promised a nice tip if she refrained from calling the cops.

That was the last thing they needed.

Before K had the chance to ask the specials, Y/I snatched the menu out of his hands, giving it back to the waitress, “My associate will have the same thing he always has after he looks at the menu for ten minutes and asks about the specials twice. He’s gonna have a slice of apple pie with a nasty piece of cheddar on the side.” K scratched his chin, lips curling up while Y/I beamed up at the woman. “I’m gonna have the lemon-cream and since it’s my last meal I’m gonna splurge a bit,” she ended with a wink.

It was as if the waitress couldn’t leave faster. Grimacing as she left the two agents at the countertop. Y/I chuckled, massaging her jaw to relax the muscle. “Word-class serial killer out there…and we’re having pie. I cannot wait to put this in my report.”

As she removed her hair from its bun, letting it fall into waves on her shoulders, K smirked and said, “So what do you do in your spare time, stretch?”

“Oh!” he laughed, pleased with her reaction. At that moment two plates of pie were presented, K thanking the waitress as she turned to leave. After the first few bites, K broke the silence, “You say we don’t talk right.”

“That’s right,” she muttered, savoring the desert as she brought a forkful to her lips. Sweet taste of lemon and cream. Shrugging as she pans him a glance, Y/I adds, “Or at least, I talk and you listen.” That really was the best description of their relationship.

“Alright, ask me a question. Anythin’ that don’t pertain to the case, I’ll answer whatever question you have.” A tempting offer. One Y/I did not want to lose after a decade of walls built up by K in which he never spoke about his past. Here was the opportunity to find out more.

Setting down the fork Y/I turned in the seat, “How’d you recruit O?” It may have been an odd question, but Y/I was curious to know how her closest friend, besides K, got involved in alien business.

He proceeds to relay the story of his time in London surveilling Mick Jagger--yeah Y/I almost lost her damn mind--and how he and O ended the night at a pub playing darts. With each word K lit up, his personality came through causing a heartwarming feeling in Y/I. Watching K was like watching a stranger. Making her wonder what caused such a drastic change in the man in front of her.

When K finished, Y/I whispered under her breath, “What the hell happened to you.” He wasn’t meant to hear, but he did. Shrugging his shoulders in response, “I don’t know, it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Part of me wishes it won’t,” a sad smile appeared, scolding herself for even thinking such. Still, she couldn’t help but add, “I like you like this.”

“Like what?” His voice turned soft, setting his own fork down.

“Just…..” the words failed to come out, Y/I shaking her head and turning back to her pie. “Nevermind.”

Sensing her dejection, K switched the subject. “You know, I’ve never seen someone get their cheek nearly ripped off and suture the damn thing like it was nothin’.” She snickered, mumbling how she was pissed off at the scar it would leave. “Where’d you learn that skill anyway?”

“Well,” she cleared her throat with a sip of water, soothing the dryness she hadn’t realized earlier. “I was a detective for ten years prior to joining MiB--and a patrol officer for five before that. Learned early on how to stitch flesh together when you’re dodging bullets left and right for fifteen years.” Since her eyes were on the pie, Y/I missed the way the gears were shifting in K’s face. “Then rolling with MiB this long has really perfected it. Gotta say, I know how to stitch some skin.”

K’s mouth opened and closed, bewilderment splashed across his complexion. He debated whether asking the question he had was the right call, but he needed to know because the entire time he assumed Y/I was in her mid-to late thirties. She certainly looked it, and the makeup she wore was so light her actual skin was on display. And while a good part of her hair was gray/white, he thought it was just hair dye and she was following a trend popular with her time. Five or six years was what K better she had on him. Yet apparently she’s got thirty years of experience in the field.

“I know this is a very ungentlemanly thing to ask,” his tone was apologetic, hand out in front of him as he grasped his thoughts. This could either go really good or really bad. “And please forgive me, I don’t mean any offense…but how old are you, Y/I?” K regretted asking the second the words left his mouth as Y/I started to choke on the water. Jumping from the stool to pat her back while she struggled to catch her breath. Then her laughter replaced the heaving, sending relief in the man.

“Oh my god, that was not the question I thought you’d follow up with,” calming down, Y/I cleared her throat as she gave one last pat to the chest. “I appreciate your concern, K, but you don’t gotta worry about offending me. Especially when it comes to my age.” He relaxed his shoulders, sighing in relief as moved back to his stool. Smirking, Y/I perched her elbow on the counter to lay her good cheek on her palm. “I’m curious though, before I answer, just how old do you think I am?”

He flushed red, “Well, my guess was 35, 37. You said we’d been partners for 14 years so I assumed you were recruited in your twenties. But after hearin’ you say you’d been an officer long before….,” he made a sound, “I was completely wrong.”

“Well I’m flattered,” Y/I teased, nudging his arm to show she wasn’t upset at all. Y/I was used to people assuming she was younger than her actual age. And each time it boosted her confidence, and ego. “Now you understand why I had to get my face products. I have not gone a day without sunscreen since I was sixteen. I’ve worked so hard to keep this face young,” she let out a disappointed sigh, “now that’s fucked up thanks to Boris.” Crossing her arms Y/l leaned both elbows on the countertop, beaming, “I’m 48, by the way.”

“You’re lying,” K shakes his head even though he knows she’s telling the truth. And Y/I knew too.

“You know I’m not,” her laugh made him grin. It was like physically hearing sunshine. Making K want to hear it again and again to soothe the addiction simmering in him.

“Well I sure need to start following in ya steps.”

Again she laughed, “Like I said the other day, cowboy, you’re still a looker in the future,” she said with a wink. The flirty banter came naturally. Only this time Y/I had a weird sensation in her chest she didn’t understand. Affection, intrigue, endearment.

Things she already felt for K, but were breaching a whole new concept than the appropriate way to view a friend.

Oh, wait a minute.

“So you were a youngin when you joined the boys in blue,” K commented, brow raised and unaware of the battle going on in his partner’s mind. And heart.

“Oh yeah,” she recovered quickly, distracting herself with a bite of pie. “Freshly eighteen and out of high school. College was the plan,” another piece of pie, “but after my family kicked me out and left me with nothing my options were limited.” Oh boy, that wasn’t supposed to slip out. She couldn’t stop now, “but it was a fun ride at the NYPD while it lasted. I like the uniform we wear more.”

Instead of a laugh from K, she was met with silence. An eerie silence. And when the agent looked up, she found him unsettled. Before she could question it, K beat her by saying, “Your parents disowned you?” A roughness laced his tone, surprising Y/I by how it matched his demeanor. As if it deeply upset K to hear it, which in turn sparked something in Y/I.

“Yeah,” the whisper was met with the final bite of pie. Chewing it slowly before swallowing with a sip of water to chase it down. Letting the fork clank onto the plate and push to the side. “My mom and step dad didn’t approve of my….affections to the all the beauty life has to offer.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what she referred to. K already had confirmation. But still, he stayed silent. Listening to Y/I speak. What pained him was the fact her family sought to kick her out instead of accepting her like they should have. It angered him.

“They didn’t hesitate the second they caught me in a compromising position with a girl they were under the assumption was only there to work on a school project,” she continued, after signaling for the waitress to bring her a cup of coffee. “Really it was my step dad who wanted me out, and my mom did whatever he said. He never liked,” Y/I pointed out, hands wrapping around the hot mug. “I often think he was just waiting to get rid of me. My half-siblings didn’t talk to me after--or extended family once the word got out.” The bitter taste hit her lips, Y/I sighing.

“And since my father had left ages ago it left me with no one. I did try to find him,” she admitted, stirring the coffee with the spoon as she placed it back on the counter. “The second I became a detective I---and I don’t condone it--did use the resources to my advantage. But found nothing….it was like he didn’t even exist. I know he did.” The watch poked her thigh in its pocket. “I have his watch, his military medals, and a vague memory from when I was young that is all but a blur now.” A pregnant pause occurred, then her voice lowered, “I just wish I knew why…..”

K clenched his jaw. Everything screamed at him to do or say something, but he only had one thing to really say, “I’m sorry that happened to you, Y/I.” Something flared in the woman hearing K say her name. Her actual name and not ‘slick’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘ace’. It sent heat down her spine.

Shaking her head, the woman gave a small smile, “Thank you. I accepted it a long time ago. Doesn’t bother me anymore--I have all I need now,” she attempts to lighten the atmosphere with another ink, “No need to worry about little ole’ me.”

After making sure Y/I was okay the conversation continued. They talked about K’s life before MiB, which was of great interest. Y/I learned more about K in three days than in ten years. They laughed, they teased. Told shocking stories leaving the other dumbfounded.

Somehow the topic of past relationships came up. Y/I wasn’t sure what to make of it but found it entertaining nonetheless. Watching K skew his brows listening to her talk about the most outrageous dates and partners she’d accumulated was fascinating.

“And now?” K asked, nursing his own cup of coffee, “You got someone waiting for you when you get home?” Y/I let out a lighthearted scoff, shaking her head.

“No. Haven’t in a long time really,” It’d been three years since her last relationship. “Last one was an agent, but they broke it off after a few months.”

“Did they say why?”

They did say why. And what Y/I once laughed at, panning it to be her ex upset Y/I wasn’t giving them enough attention. But thinking back, along with the unnamed feelings Y/I battled, she was beginning to think there was truth to what her ex said. Simply thinking about it made her stomach flutter.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Y/I pondered before answering, “They said it was because they were tired of feeling like a third wheel in the relationship.” Saying it out loud really put it into perspective, as did her next words, “They didn’t like how I was more devoted to being your partner, than to being theirs.”

Silence filled the space as the revelation hung in the air. Neither knowing how to follow up. Suddenly it became hot, and it wasn’t the coffee. Almost like a lightning bolt struck with how much electricity flowed between the two. Indescribable.

Fuck K was right. Pie does make things clear.

#agent k x reader #agent k imagine #agent!reader #agent kay #agent kay x reader #agent k x you #men in black #josh brolin #tommy lee jones #men in black imagine #men in black 3 #mib

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gavisuntiedboot · 2 years ago

Text

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Most recent part

Warnings: none

Word count: 3.5K

A/N: A Gavi fic where Gavi will finally be involved. How innovative.

Also the urge to change perspectives and write "you" instead of "she" is overwhelming so I'm just going to do it. IDK why I'm giving all these disclaimers - I'm essentially talking to myself.

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. Your failure of a date had already left you with a severe headache, and to make matters worse, the people in the apartment above you had a cabinet collapse, waking you up in the middle of the night to the sound of 80 plates crashing to the ground. Training didn't even start until 8am, meaning you technically didn't have to arrive to Camp Nou until 7:30am, when the debriefings of the day occurred. But you couldn't say no to Gavi.

Your time at Barca had started off rough to say the least. On your first day, you had been excited, dressed in the official physio team uniform, and eager to get to know all the players and staff. But when Dr. Gonzalez introduced you, the reaction was not very positive. You heard the players whisper to each other that anyone who Xavi wanted to keep off the field would be treated by you. While it hurt, you couldn't exactly blame them: who would want to be the guinea pig for the student-in-training when they had other physios available with years of experience?

For the first month, you only saw the players if you were in Dr. Gonzalez's office. Despite the constant instructions for the players to "see y/n first and only come to me with major injuries", your office was constantly empty. Everyone wanted to be seen by the best - and that was not you.

Pedri had vaguely remembered you from that night in the club, squinting at you and saying that you looked familiar. You had considered not confessing how he knew you, but in a desperate effort to have someone like you, recounted when you had met. He laughed at the memory, and yet still never came to you for any discomforts. Gavi, on the other hand, didn't remember a thing, and you were not going to remind him for one simple reason: he was kind of an ass while sober. While sweet to everyone on the pitch, he was cold and easily frustrated when things didn't go his way, and the nature of your job was telling him things he didn't want to hear. The last thing you wanted to do was make him angry, because 10/10 times the club will choose the generational talent over some student intern.

So you avoided him. You didn't make any offers to help with his muscle tightness. You didn't evaluate the way he strained himself on the field. You even refrained from looking at him in the eyes whenever you assisted Dr. Gonzalez with his physicals, because Lord knows this boy loved to throw himself around the pitch. Gavi treated you the same. In the rare occasions when he looked in your direction, he offered short nods instead of words. The only time you heard his voice was for quiet thank yous when you handed him his shirt at the end of the evaluation. You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you. The memories of Gavi leading against you, whispering softly that he drank to quiet his thoughts, were always in the back of your mind.

However, 6 weeks into your job at Barca, his cold front had to come down. You were in your office at Camp Nou, typing up progress notes from the day before, when some banged loudly at your door. "Come in." You yelled, still engrossed in typing up your notes, when the banging was heard again. You sighed in annoyance, opening the door and finding Ferran standing before you, holding up a limp and tearful Gavi. "What the hell happened?" You said, moving aside so he could lay Gavi down on the exam bed in your office. "He went up for a header and collided with Christensen. He landed pretty hard on his left leg, and then hit his head again." You glanced over at Gavi, watching the way he grabbed his left shin and writhed in pain. You walked over to him, trying to hold his ankle still. He immediately pulled away, sitting up way too quickly for someone with a head injury. "I don't want you to touch me! Ferran, where is Dr. G?" He shouted, the color quickly draining from his face. "He's not in until noon today. I already told you." Your heart sank slightly. Of course they didn't seek you out as a first option. There was no proof that you were any good at your job. You were just the only person available.

"Gavi, you could have a concussion, so please stop yelling and just lay ba-" "Don't tell me what to do. I'm not concussed. If you were good at your job you would know that." He replied. Now you were angry. It was moments like this when you were reminded that, despite his talent, Gavi was still a teenage boy, and if that's how he wanted to act, that's how he would be treated. You walked to your desk, grabbed your trashcan, and placed it in front of the exam bed. "I am good at my job, and given that you are paler than a ghost in winter, you probably are concussed. If, no, when the need to vomit becomes too overwhelming, do it in there. You can wait for Dr. Gonzalez for the next three hours, but don't get puke on my floor." You turned back to your desk, and resumed typing reports like you had been. Ferran and Gavi both exchanged a glance. "So you aren't going to do anything?" Ferran asked hesitantly. "I'm not going to touch Gavi if he doesn't want me to. If he wants to sit and writhe in pain and make his injury worse, that's on him. You can go back to training now." You replied without even looking up from your keyboard. It would be a cold day in hell when you let an entitled 18 year old doubt your competence.

Ferran looked back at the exam bed one more time before exiting the room and heading back to training. To his credit, Gavi held out for 25 minutes, a lot longer than most other concussed athletes. But the fuel of spite died down eventually, and he was leaning over the bed to vomit in your office trash bin. You suppressed your smirk as much as humanly possible. He then lifted himself to slowly sit up, and quietly said, "Can you look at my leg now?" You glanced up from your screen. "I know you haven't been out of school so long that you have forgotten how to say 'please'." Gavi huffed in frustration. "You know what? It doesn't even hurt. I'm just gonna get up and go back to training." "Yeah, stand on that injured leg. Take a week long injury and make it worse so you miss half the season." He stopped his motions to get up. You looked over at him, and he stared at you with that look of distress he always had on his face. "Can you please take a look at my leg?" He said, disgusted by the need to plead with you. "Much better." You said as you stood to put on a clean pair of gloves.

You carefully removed his sock and guards to get a better look at his ankle. It was slightly swollen but no bruising - just a minor sprain. He could be back on the field in a week. You pressed on different areas, looking to see if there were any where he felt excess pain. As you pressed right above his ankle bone, he recoiled in pain, hissing out a sharp "fuck!" while gripping his ankle. "Can you not injure me further?" He said while looking up at you. You sighed in frustration, and chose not to respond, rather just holding out your hand to indicate that he should give his foot back. He begrudgingly accepted, and you continued to examine his foot. "Mild sprain, nothing too serious. I'm going to bandage it and put it in a brace to keep it stable for the next couple of days." He nodded at the diagnosis. You went up yo his head now, shining a flashlight in his eyes to gage how bad the head injury was. "I'll have someone take you to the hospital to confirm, but it's just a mild concussion, like I said earlier. I'll send notice to Xavi to let him know you won't be at training the rest of the week. You sho-" Gavi jumped up before you could finish, making himself nauseous in the process. "I don't need to go to the hospital. Don't send anything to Xavi. I can work through it. I should just..." He couldn't even finish the sentence because he was reaching back for the bin to throw up again.

"Gavi, what is your problem with me?" You asked in frustration. He looked up at you in surprise. "My problem?" "Yes! You're always either cold or snappy with me, and always questioning my medical judgement. I know how to do my job, otherwise I wouldn't be here. So what is it about me that is so insufferable that you feel the need to be rude to me all the time?" Gavi was caught off guard. He didn't expect for you to confront him with such an honest question. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, finally bringing some color back to his face. He laid back on the bed and signed, taking a pause before replying, "You're young." Your brows scrunched together in confusion. "You hate me because I'm young? I'll age eventually I promise." He couldn't stop the small laugh that left him at that. It was refreshing hearing Gavi laugh.

"I'm not upset that you're young. Well I am but not in that way. It's just... everybody here has so much respect for you. You're 21 years old, but no one ever questions your judgement or decisions. Dr. G is 57. He's been a physio at Barca longer than I've been alive, and he still consults you on everything. You're so young and no one treats you like it."

You were taken aback. You would have never suspected that the reason behind his anger was jealousy (or admiration?). "Gavi, I think you have some rose colored glasses on when you look at me. Maybe Dr. Gonzalez ignores my age, but everyone else doesn't. Have you ever seen any of the players walk into this office? No. They all skip me and go to my boss. I'm not really that great."

Gavi turned on his side to face you. "That's because you're kind of intimidating, not because we don't trust you." "Wow. Always great to hear." "Let me finish." Gavi huffed. "A lot of us get injured in really stupid ways. I mean really stupid. Like the time we were messing around in the locker room and Pedri slipped of a bench while performing Bad Bunny. No one wants to walk into the office of the young attractive physio and say 'hey I hurt myself being an ass'. Dr. G? Her knows we're dumb. It's just easier" You couldn't decide whether to focus on the fact that Gavi had just exposed Pedri or that he just called you attractive. You just stared at him for a moment with your mouth agape. You composed yourself and quickly started typing out a hospital request and a training excuse. "You know that they respect you too, right Gavi? Your teammates all think extremely highly of you, regardless of how old you are. And the people on the other teams don't beat you up just because you're young. They're threatened by the amount of talent that you already have, and are honestly frightened by how much you can grow in the next couple of years." You finished typing and looked back to him. "And you're kind of a dick whose always tackling people on the field." Gavi let out another laugh, this one louder and more carefree, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "But no yellows thought." "Yeah, you must be bribing the refs." "With what money? You know Barca doesn't have any." It was your turn to laugh, being caught off guard by the statement. Gavi was picked up by his hospital escort, and visited you every day that week for rehab on his bad ankle.

Since then, Gavi used you like his own personal therapist, for both his physical and mental troubles. He would ask for you specifically for everything, from minor muscle tightness to major injuries. His confidence in your abilities spread to the rest of the squad, with more of the young players coming to you for assistance. Gavi always came first. You made the mistake of giving him your personal number "for emergencies", and he used it every day. He often asked you to come in an hour early so he could get personalized treatment without having to fight off Ansu and Balde, who always seemed to be standing by your door at 8am sharp.

"You're late. It's 6:45." "Good morning to you too, Gavira." You replied, handing your coffee and bag to Gavi while you unlocked your office. "I don't know why you keep this office locked - it's not like there's anything to steal." He said as he followed you inside, placing your coffee on your desk and your bad on the shelf. He had met you here so many mornings it was muscle memory now. "Oh yes, nothing important. Only the computer with the medical records of the whole team and all their personal contact information. Maybe I should let someone put your phone number on Twitter and let everyone know you're allergic to oranges." You replied as you turned on the lights by the exam table. "Leaking my personal information is one thing, but telling the public how to kill me is a little much don't you think?" He said as he hopped on the table, feet dangling over the edge. "My Lord Gavi, it's literally mild allergy. I would be telling the public how to give you a rash. Now what did you need me for?" You said as you pulled your hair back and grabbed some gloves. "You didn't see me limping as I walked in?" "No Gavi. You're always walking like you're holding a watermelon between your thighs. It's the hallmark of a football player. Now what do you want before I ditch you to go get breakfast?" "My right thigh and hip are really tight. I need help stretching them out because they feel misaligned." You sighed. "I taught you to do this yourself so I wouldn't have to keep getting up at 5am to readjust your hips." "I know that but it doesn't work when I do it!"

You shifted Gavi so he was on his back, proceeding to lift his right leg slightly and rotate it. Gavi hissed in pain slightly, but did nothing else to stop your movements. "I can't get a full range of motion when you're in sweats. Do you have shorts you could change into?" "Not right this moment no." "Alright then just take your pants off." Gavi whipped his head around, eyes wide at the statement. "What?" "You're in boxers right? It's like being in shorts. I don't have a ton of time Gavi come on. Now is not the time to be shy." You said, grabbing him by the forearm and sitting him up, looking expectantly. "I don't think that's a good idea." He said, avoiding eye contact. "Well than you can come back after training." He weighed his options and then got off the bed, taking off his shoes while you looked at him. "Do you have to watch me strip? Usually that's a service I charge for." You hadn't even realized you had been staring until he pointed it out, spinning around quickly in your chair. You heard him shuffling while trying to calm the blush that had started to creep across your face. "I don't get what the big deal is." You said coolly, pretending you had not just been overwhelmed at the prospect of Gavi stripping. "You change in front of the guys all the time." "Correct. Guys. Other men with penises who are not shocked by mine." You suppressed the urge to make a wildly inappropriate joke. "I have seen other naked men before, Gavira. I didn't study in a nun convent." You said turning back around when the shuffling stopped.

He was back on the bed, laying in his grey hoodie and black boxers, grey crew socks still on. He had his arms crossed above his chest, staring at the ceiling. You grabbed his right leg again, and started to move his leg to loosen the tight muscle. You folded his leg upwards, placing one hand on his knee and one on his inner thigh, causing his eyes to shoot open. His breathing got heavier, but he said nothing as you focused your attention on your work. His thigh was tight and muscular under your grip, sculpted and toned from years of training. You ran your hand along the back side of it, gripping and massaging the muscle to loosen some of the tension you felt there. As you put his leg back on the bed, you couldn't help but look at the bruises and faint tan lines littered across both of his legs. They were proof of just how hard he worked - how hard Gavi always pushed himself.

You tore your gaze from his thighs to focus on realigning his hips. "Hey, can you life your hoodie a bit for me?" You requested. Gavi exposed the bottom portion of his abs, desperately hoping that you didn't notice that he was blushing. You grabbed his hips, digging your fingers into the soft flesh to grab his bones. You ran your thumbs along the very bottom of his stomach, right before it disappeared into the waistband of his boxers, and felt how tight the muscle was there. "Breathe." You instructed as you began his realignment. Gavi always groaned in pain at this process. It was not a fun experience to have your bones shifted back into place. But it was a side effect of him dribbling (or as you would say waddling) with the ball between his legs for so long. It was not odd for you to graze the bottom of his abs, but never like this. Never when he was sitting there half naked with only one layer of cotton separating himself from you. He groaned from the pain of your movements and the pain of feeling himself start to get hard when you started applying pressure to his sides. He tried to think of something sad, something painful, anything besides the fact that you were leaning over him, touching him so gently while he was in his boxers.

Thankfully, you released him with a "You're all set", and he was able to pull his shirt down to cover his half bulge. You turned back around so that he could get dressed when the door opened. "Good morning y/n. Good morning Gavi in his underwear." Pedri said as her walked into the room. "It's just so she could stretch me properly." Gavi muttered under his breath, realizing that didn't make it sound better. "Don't worry, Pedri knows, he's been in here in his boxers several times." You say while throwing away your gloves. Gavi shot a look at Pedri from his position on the floor. Pedri put his hands up in defeat. "I forget my shorts a lot. Anyways, Gavi, Mister wants to see you so we can discuss new striking tactics." "How did he know I was here?" Gavi asked, smoothing over his hoodie as he stood. "Everyone in the city of Barcelona knows that if you're not in my car in the morning, you're in y/n's office. Oh, while I'm here, could I get more resistance tape? I forgot my roll at home." You rolled your eyes at Pedri, going to get him his third roll that week alone, when your phone began to buzz with message notifications. "Damn whose blowing up your phone?" Pedri asked. Gavi put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the door, pretending he didn't care about the answer. "Oh, just some guy I met at a club a while back. Actually, it was when I saw you there. Do you remember Martin?" You said as you finally found the roll of tape. "From Real Sociedad? Yeah, I remember. He carried your friend out of the club." "He messaged me last night saying he saw me when I was out yesterday, but was too shy to come say hi since I was on a date. He's been texting me ever since. I have to silence my notifications before he gets me fired." You replied easily. "Oh cool. See you later then, y/n. Thanks for the tape!" Pedri said, leaving your office with Gavi trailing close behind. Who had you been on a date with? He thought you were focused on your career. And why did this random Sociedad player have your number. His eyebrows stitched close together as he and Pedri walked to the locker room, and when he felt they were far enough from your office, Gavi smacked Pedri on the arm and asked, "When the hell did you see y/n in a club?"

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I'm really proud of myself - I worked on my application essays! And I actually started to incorporate Gavi into the story more. Excited about where it's going.

GIF credit to @gavidaily

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