#hundreds of people had walked by him. people with fancy cars and designer bags and not one person stopped to even buy him something to eat

[foolishfern]

I wrote this on my break at work.

[echo-hiraeth]

Newlyweds - Jack “Agent Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader [NSFW]

Summary: When Jack and y/n are assigned a mission that requires a cover, they are assigned the role of husband and wife. But the suave agent can’t contain himself any longer and doesn’t want to play pretend anymore.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, spice, NSFW 18+ only

Masterlist 

This mission wasn’t at all what you’d expected it to be. Some crazed millionaire seeking world domination and infinite power wasn’t all that unusual to you, but the way you had to go about stopping him was different. So here you were, standing in the five-star-hotel’s lobby, dressed in clothes more expensive than your fucking car, your fellow agent’s arm slung across you waist. Champ had paired you together with agent Whiskey, his boosted ego already getting on your nerves.

“Ready doll?”, he whispered in your ear as you approached the counter.

“Just get it over with”, you mumbled, faking a smile as the woman behind the counter greeted you.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you today?”, she asked excitedly, tilting her head at the two of you.

Jack placed a hand on the counter, leaning against it. “My wife and I have a reservation, the name’s Brandy.”

The lady typed away on her keyboard. In the meantime Jack pressed a peck to your forehead, making you have to fight the urge to kick him in the nuts. “Ah yes, the honeymoon suite, ninth floor. Congratulations Mister and Missus Brandy! Here’s your key, your bags will be brought up shortly, please do feel free to call us if you need anything.”

“Thank you so much”, you cooed as you took the key from her hand.

The two of you headed towards the elevator, Jack’s hand comfortably resting on your lower back as you did so. As soon as the metal doors slipped closed you swatted his hand off of you. “No need to take advantage of the situation, Daniels”, you huffed.

“Oh come on sugar, we need to make it somewhat believable. We’ve been trying to get this guy for weeks and this is the closest we’ve gotten.”

You closed your eyes, trying to keep your mouth shut when the doors suddenly slipped open. He took your hand as he walked you down the hallway, nodding his head at a maid along the way.

When you reached the dark double doors to your sweet the two of you came to a halt. You slowly slipped the key into the lock, sucking in a breath when the doors opened to reveal a gorgeous and luxurious loft. Jack slowly closed the door while you had a look for yourself.

There was a small dining area connected to a tiny kitchen with a see-through fridge filled with alcoholic beverages. To your left you found a bathroom consisting of a lavish walk-in shower and the other facilities you’d expect to find there. The bedroom was gorgeous, the huge bed stood in the middle, directly under the mirrors that found themselves on the ceiling. You ran your hand over the silky bedsheets, the sheer softness of them sending a shiver throughout your being. In the corner of a room stood a luxurious hot tub, the windows behind it looking out over the city. On the other side of the bedroom you spotted a lounging area and huge television. This place was fancy as fuck.

A knock at the door startled you as you were drawn from you inner thoughts. You watched as your pretend-husband opened it, helping the staff member haul your bags inside.

“Mister Brandy, if you’d let me”, he spoke, rolling a tray filled with desserts and champagne into the room. “It is our great pleasure to have you and your wife with us to celebrate something so special.”

“Pleasure’s all ours, thank you”, he ensured the man, smiling as he slipped him a hundred dollar bill.

The member of staff left without another words, leaving the two of you alone once again. “Well dearest wife, care for a toast?”, Jack taunted as he winked at you.

“I could do with a glass”, you chuckled as you sat down on the edge of the bed.

He popped the cork off, elegantly pouring two glasses before walking over to you. A smirk set on his lips as he handed you the glass, softly skimming his fingers across yours. The two of you clinked your glasses together before each taking a sip, his eyes focused on you the entire time.

You’d worked some cases with him before and were not to keen on working with him again. He always drove you crazy, the flirting and small touches made your mind wander to places really not appropriate for work. Jack was known to be flirtatious, you were well aware, but it was getting harder and harder for you to resist his attempts and caring gestures. Having to play his wife for the week surely wasn’t helping. The continuous strokes and embraces drove you more insane than he ever had.

“You need to get changed, event starts in less than an hour.” You looked up at him to find him already staring back at you, tilting his head in confusion. “You okay, doll?”

“Uh – yeah, was just thinking about how I’m going to get to him later”, you lied, getting up off the bed and carrying one of your suitcases to the bed.

“Intel is not sure he’ll be there tonight, but some of his people should. Just try to get around and talk to as many people as you need. It is absolutely crucial we find out his location tonight, Tequila will be on stake-out outside”, he informed while you slowly pulled a black bag out of your suitcase.

When you zipped it open it revealed a long, revealing, satin, maroon dress. You chuckled nervously upon seeing the thigh-slit. “I thought we were supposed to blend in.”

“You take the bathroom first, I’ll freshen up after you”, he instructed, handing you a small bag filled with toiletries.

The moment you left that bathroom all dressed up, was the moment Jack’s heart stopped. He felt the palpitations with every step you took, your heels clicking in time with the thumps in his chest. He cleared his throat, quickly disappearing into the bathroom to finish up as well. It wasn’t like him to lose his composure like that, he just didn’t expect you to look that sexy. The agent splashed some cold water on his face, patting it dry with a hand towel right after, not wanting to get his suit wet. He’d had his eye on you for quite a while now but had tried to keep things professional. The risks that came with being a Statesman weren’t minimal and even though you were a strong woman, he couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. He decided to make the most of your fake marriage, seeing how he thought you had no interest in him like that whatsoever.

He calmy left the bathroom, telling you that it was time to go. You’d just finished strapping your gun to your upper right thigh, asking him if it was hidden alright. He nodded, urging you to follow him. The elevator ride was silent, awkwardly silent.

“You’re looking really dapper tonight, Daniels”, you started.

He scoffed, looking at you. “I look like a glorified hillbilly next to you… You look stunning, doll.”

You blushed a bit at that, taking his hand in your as you reached you designated floor. When you entered the banquet hall you felt overwhelmed by all the people and flashing lights, the jazz music a pleasant mitigator as Jack leaned over to you.

“See that lounge up the stairs, they’re with him, that’s where we need to go”, his breath was hot against your neck as he spoke, trying to avoid any further suspicion by kissing you there. “Our informant will introduce us to them and then it’s all us from there.” He pressed a peck to your cheek before breaking apart, dragging you through the crowd.

“Ah! The newlyweds!”, you informant laughed, engulfing the both of you in a hug. “If I may say”, he continued, grabbing a hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips and swiping his tongue across the wedding band, “you look amazing Miss.”

“Missus”, Jack corrected him, wrapping a protective arm around you.

The informant smirked, encouraging you to follow him. You got into the small lounging space without a problem, a waiter offering the three of you a drink, which Jack gratefully accepted.

“Emilio! Come meet my friends!”, your informant yelled, a scrawny-looking man walking over to the three of you. “These are the Brandy’s, the banker and his wife I told you about.”

“Ah yes, I remember you telling me about them. Forgive me, but your names seem to have slipped my mind”, Emilio smirked, shaking hands with the two of you.

“John Brandy, and this is my wife Leah, pleasure to meet you”, Jack grinned, his grip around your waist tightening ever so slightly.

“Leah, let me introduce you to my wives, by all means, join them for some games. I think me and your husband have some business to attend to”, the man suggested, though it sounded more like an order.

“Gladly, I’ll let the big boys get to work”, you taunted, not feeling to happy with the man’s derogatory attitude.

Jack smiled at you, proud at your daring character. He pressed a tender kiss to your lips before winking and walking away with the man, leaving you breathless. What. The. Fuck.

You quickly waved the thought and lingering burn of it away and you joined the women on the leather couches. While Jack was off talking with the righthand of your culprit, you worked on getting some information out of the girls. Your newly assigned mission become more and more successful with every drink the girls downed, their integrity and sworn secrecy decreasing with every sweet drop of liquor. Not to come off as suspicious, you drank along with them as well, or so it seemed, you kept dumping your glass into another girl’s, which went by unnoticed every time. You pretended to be just as drunk as them, giggling and flailing your arms as you spoke.

When Jack came back he wore a proud smile on his face until he spotted you. An adoring smile tugging at his lips. “Okay, okay, looks like someone’s done drinking for the night”, he chuckled as he took the glass from your hands.

You whined in response, making a bit of a fuss, as a drunk person might. He supported your weight as you slumped against him, Emilio and the informant giving Jack a knowing grin. “Take care of that one, Brandy. You’re lucky you found her before I did.”

He balled his hand in a fast, forcing a smile and nodding his head at them as he helped you to the exit. You were giggling and telling the wildest story as he pressed the elevator button. As soon as you stepped inside and the doors closed you stood up straight, sighing to yourself.

“Quite the performance y/l/n”, Jack joked.

“Why thank you agent Whiskey.”

Jack filled you and Tequila (over the earpiece) in about his newly acquired information, as did you.

“So he’s on the same floor? Just untouchable?”, Tequila questioned.

“Until tomorrow. I scored a meeting with him, though I doubt it’ll be any good, the guy’s got a whole army up there”, Jack replied, loosening up his tie.

“We’ll go from there, we did the best we could for tonight”, you said, bent down to take your heels off.

“She’s right, talk tomorrow Tequila”, Jack mumbled as the elevator dinged, signalling you’d reached your desired floor.

Another loaded silence filled the room as the two of you sat down on the couches. Jack was trying to keep himself from jumping you, your dress making it nearly impossible for him to think.

“You’re thinking too loud”, you joked, lifting up your dress to unstrap your gun from your thigh.

His eyes followed your every movement and lingered on the exposed flesh, his hardening length pressing against the fabric of his pants. “Sugar, I’m gonna need you to get changed.”

You raised your brow in confusion until you laid eyes on him. His hands were balled into fists on the armrests, eyes screwed shot, chest raising and falling with laboured breaths. A devilish smirk appeared on your face as you went to stand. “What’s wrong cowboy, thought you could deal with some heat?”

“Stop”, he warned, lustful eyes burning into yours.

“I don’t know, I quite enjoy seeing you so… desperate.”

And there it was, with a swift tug on your lower arm he pulled you on top of him. Faces only inches apart. His hand hovered over your exposed back, suddenly pushing you into him, hungry lips devouring yours. You let out a moan as his tongue swiped across your plump lips, keenly allowing him entrance. His tongue stroked yours lovingly, his hands wandering over your body through your dress.

He picked you up, bringing you over to the bed and dragged the zipper on your side down as he gently laid you flat on your back. “As much as I love this little number on you, I’d much prefer to have it on the ground right about now.”

“By all means Mister Brandy, do what you must”, you purred as you pushed his jacket over his broad shoulders. A grunt sounded form his chest as he lifted the satin fabric over your head, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lacey thongs.

“Fuck doll, you look amazing. I’ve been dreaming of this”, he mused, hurriedly opening the buttons of his dress shirt, letting it cascade onto the hardwood floors.

You tugged on his belt as he kissed along your collarbones, hands cupping your naked breasts ever so gently. When the buckle gave way you opened the button, pushing his pants down his ass, further sliding them down with your feet, until they also hit the floor.

He softly caressed your cheekbone as he hummed: “Are you sure you want to do this?”

You smirked before rolling him over, smoothly climbing on top of him, straddling his waist. “What’s wrong Jack? Nervous?”, you taunted, softly sucking on the skin of his neck.

The man groaned, roughly grabbing your ass with one hand while the other brought your face back up to his. “I’m not sure I can keep things professional if we do this.”

Your lips slowly covered his again, as you started slowly moving back and forth against his crotch. His tongue became more needy and fervent, his body aching with anticipation. “As if they every were in the first place. I can’t stop thinking about you either”, you uttered, cupping his bulge through his boxers while leaning down to catch his lips in another searing kiss.

He grabbed onto your hips as you dragged his underwear down, encouraging you to just get on with it already. With his boxers halfway down his thighs and your thongs hastily shoved to the side, you slowly sunk down on his erection. You closed your eyes and threw your head back as you slowly took in every inch of him. He grunted from the sensation and divine sight in front of him, his hands coming up the squeeze your breasts, making you gasp. You slowly started moving your hips when suddenly you heard a familiar voice coming from the hallway. Jack was groaning beneath you, eyes closed and blissfully unaware. You quickly covered his mouth with your hand, stilling your movements as you focused on the noises outside.

“Fuck, that’s him”, you cursed as you got off of him, slipping his shirt on before grabbing your gun.

Jack watched you, visibly confused. “Darlin’, I’m gonna need an explanation here”, he chuckled as he watched you, putting his boxers back on.

You quietly opened the door, motioning for him to shut up as well. Your suspicions were confirmed as you saw your target right down the hallway. Without a doubt, you screwed the silencer onto the barrel of your fun. Jack promptly came up behind you, electric lasso in hand. The two of you shared a knowing look before you stepped out into the hallway, barely covered up.

With two shots his bodyguards were taken care of and within seconds your target was trapped within the grip of Jack’s lasso. You walked up to him, expertly catching the cuffs Jack tossed over to you before fastening them around the man’s wrists.

“Did I interrupt something important here?”, the culprit joked, eyes locked on your barely covered form.

“Where the hell are your manners?”, Jack let out, carelessly knocking the man out. “Don’t you ever disrespect a lady like that.”

You wore a confident smile, hands on your hips as you locked eyes with him. “Tequila will be up in a second, how about you and I get back to that suite?”

“Who am I to deny my wife on the night of her honeymoon.”

He swept you off your feet, carrying you back into the room and kicking the door shut.

“You wish cowboy”, you laughed, slipping off the wedding band.

“Keep that on doll, it suits you”, he uttered, pressing a fiery kiss to your mouth.

“Maybe one day when you give me one yourself.”

[hsinliu]

talk to me (ichirou moriyama)

there was a loud screeching sound, a tire nearly burning against asphalt, the car, a matte black expensive sport style one, abruptly stopped at the front of the building. ichirou, the current lord moriyama, walked out of the drivers seat and tossed the keys to the valet parking muttering a comand in rapid japanese, the valet parking bowed his head and held the keys close to his chest before hurrying to park the car.

ichirou was wearing his usual attire, a black fitted suit from some fancy designer which now had a fresh blood stain on the right cuff of the dress shirt, the thought of it irritated him, he walked to the elevator in long strides not making eye contact with anyone but everyone stopped walking as soon as they saw him and bowed his head. ichirou swiped the key card to his room, punched a code, did a retina scan and only then the door swung open with a beep.

the penthouse was illuminated briefly as a lighting struck outside and some seconds after the thunder coated ichirou's ears. ichirou rubbed between his eyebrows and changed his clothes into something more comfortable, not that he dislikes wearing suits but tonight he wanted to relax and didn't feel like dealing with curious eyes. ichirou walked out once he was ready.

"oyabun, where are you going? do you need to be scorted?" one of the guards outside his room asked, using the honorific freely as the building was secured.

"no, i'm just going to the convenience store. you can rest." this time ichirou made eye contact with the kobun, dismissing them with a slight hand movement.

now ichirou was wearing a dark blue baggy tracksuit. despite having his face half covered with the hood everyone bowed his head as he walked out, again.

next to the moriyama building there was a convenience store from a japanese chain since everything from american chains tasted like cardboard. ichirou crossed the door and the employee greeted him in japanese. walking down the aisles he picked some items to have dinner, he picked a potato and egg salad sandwich, yakisoba noodles, a cup of microwaveable rice, strawberry mochi for dessert and ice americano, he walked a bit more wondering what else he needed for the night and lastly picked a face mask that claimed contains colagen.

he dropped the items for the cashier to scan them. "i will take them." the cashier said, he was a young man, couldn't be older than 23 "it's 22.8 dollars."

"you're good looking." ichirou said looking directly at him.

"excuse me?" the boy asked, his cheeks blushing.

"do you take yens? i didn't bring any dollars." ichirou took out his wallet and then continued the previous conversation "like an idol, are you one of these?"

the boy's cheek were now an angry red, his eyes open wide in surprise. "huh? yeah we take yens, it's two hundred-" ichirou put a few five hundred yen bills on the counter before he finished the sentence and the boy hurried to give the change.

"keep the change." ichirou interrumpted his action and train of thought.

"it's too much, i can't-".

"keep the change, don't make me repeat myself again." ichirou said with a more serious tone but polite eyes who did not help the boy's blush.

grateful the boy bowed his head "thank you, lord-".

"don't. just call me ichirou." ichirou took the bag with his items "come sit with me " he suggested with a head tilt before walking to the sitting area, he dropped the things on a table and microwaved the rice, then he muttered 'thanks for the food' to no one in particular and finally began eating.

"am i in trouble, lord-" ichirou gave him an accusatory look "am i in trouble, ichirou?" he corrected himself.

ichirou spoke after a few mouthfuls of rice "what makes you believe that? and how did you know it was me?" the tone was friendly but the boy didn't feel any more comfortable.

"the- the tattoos." the cashier pointed to his own chest and ichirou looked down on himself, he then noticed the zipper was a little too low so his chest and a glimpse of his tattoos were visible. "i wasn't- i wasn't staring." but he was. "and i see you everyday, i mean, you always come back around this time, i always have the night shift."

ichirou zipped up the hoodie with a slight smile "ah, that makes sense. you didn't reply my other questions, tough." now he was mixing the yakisoba noodles with his chopsticks.

the boy gulped, his mouth dry. "i'm not an idol, i'm a college student. i thought i was in trouble since you requested me to come sit with you."

after eating half the noodles ichirou spoke "really? what college? maybe we're on the same campus. and no you are not in trouble i just wanted to have your company, you could have refused." ichirou spoke in a calm voice, pronouncing each word with delicacy.

"why are you asking so many questions about myself? i'm just an employee in this convenience store." the boy was fidgeting with a strand on his clothes.

"to answer your question, it's just as i told you you're good looking, isn't that reason enough to want to have your company? i like to be around beautiful people." ichirou took a sip of the ice americano and then bit the mochi "would you rather ask questions about myself instaed? we can do that, i know the surveillance of the store doesn't have audio, you can ask whatever you want." the boy didn't immediately speak and kept fidgeting not quite making eye contact "hey, look at me" ichirou said with a gentle voice touching the boy's chin with his index and middle finger so he would look up "i know i'm intimidating, i would feel insulted if you didn't think i am. i can stop talking if that's what you want, i'm just going to finish this" he pointed to his food "and then i'm going to walk out that door. if that's what you want." ichirou repeated, in hopes the boy didn't want that.

a few minutes passed and ichirou was almost finished with his food, he was on his last sip of ice americano when the boy finally spoke again "i'm going to OOO university by the way, and mmh i wanted to ask, why were you angry today?"

ichirou was both pleased and surprised by the question "oh, you noticed? well i was angry because a certain business didn't go as planed and because i don't like this weather." he flexed his right hand remembering the way he had broke someone's nose just a few hours ago.

the boy wanted to ask if he got into fights frequently or what kind of business was he refering to but instaed asked "what kind of weather do you like better? i like when it's cloudy but only when i get to stay home and watch movies." now he was more relaxed, he rested his elbows on the table and put his hand against his cheek, enhancing his boyish looks.

ichirou let out a laugh "yeah, this kind of weather is for people who can allow themselves to spend the whole day at home, it's not good for going to work, i like when it's sunny with a clear sky."

the cashier got a mental image of ichirou on a park or a garden enjoying the weather but then remembered something "i've seen a little girl around the moriyama building, is she your sister?"

"i don't have siblings." ichirou replied with a polite smile.

"oh? she looks like you, i was sure she was somehow related to you." the boy elaborated, not giving up on his theory.

"that is because she's my daughter." at this confesion the boy's eyes widened "she isn't usually in the country, you know for safety reasons, but she has been behaving like a brat lately so she comes back almost every weekend, the other kobuns say i spoil her too much but she's just a little girl, am i supposed to tell her no?, she can learn about the family business when she grows up there's no need for me to be rough with her from the start."

"she's going into the... business too?" the boy asked carefully, it sounded like ichirou is fond of her daughter so he wondered why he would want that for her.

ichirou removed his hoodie and ran a hand through his hair before putting it back on "i had her out of... tradition, i needed a successor and i ended up loving her, that's not how it should have been, that certainly didn't happen to me and my predecessor. but yes she's going into the business, i hope she doesn't hate me for it."

"did you? hate your- your predecessor for it?"

ichirou let out a humorless laugh "of course i did, i was ripped out of any normalness i could achieve before i even had it. maybe i'm doing it wrong, maybe giving her a normal life and then taking it off of her is going to do more harm than good. mmh? don't you think?"

the boy was startled by the sudden question. he didn't expect to be questioned on his opinion on ichirou's decisions on how to raise his daughter. he gulped and then spoke "i don't know what to tell you, i've never been in that kind of situation."

ichirou sighed loudly, finished his drink and threw it on a trash can "yeah, that was a weird thing to ask, sorry." he glanced sidelong at the cashier and smiled. "do you think it's pathetic that i came to some convenience store seeking for a friend?"

the cashier dropped his gaze fidgeted with the hem of his uniform and quietly said "i think you are... sad."

ichirou got up from his seat "i think it's time for me to go."

"we can be friends, if you need one." the boy got up too.

"i think it's best if we don't."

ichirou walked to the door and when he was about to walk out the boy spoke "you're so weird, did you know that? you literally said you were looking for a friend and when i suggest it you act like it's me the one pushing it."

"you are right but i really have to go now. i'm sorry."

the boy stood there for a while, then a group of teenagers entered the store making a fuss about what kind of food to buy. after they were gone the cashier refilled some aisles and finally sat behind the counter "did i accidentaly fall asleep at work and had a dream about having a conversation with the head of the moriyama family? i think so."

[kpopfromtheblock]

a/n ⇾ i’m so late but better late than never i always say lmao… this is like partially edited, i’m sorry y’all… i’m so tired, i’ll re-read and fix the mistakes i’ve made later on. thank you all so much for your patience and support. i hope you enjoy part one of LWB 010! 

for reference,*this* is what i imagine the villa to look like in this story (the photos of the air b & b do not belong to me. the only reason why i’m adding the link is because i’m terrible at descriptions and want the readers to have a good visual of their settings). also, any text that is shown in ‘Bold/Italics’ throughout the story will represent Y/n’s thoughts.

LIFE WITH BANGTAN | ot7

010

genre ⇾ mature content (swearing, smut is implied), fluff, comedy

pairing ⇾ bts x fem reader, ot7 x fem reader

summary ⇾  two years spent together surely calls for a celebration right? ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY. the boys whisk you away to paradise for the week to celebrate your anniversary!

warning ⇾ talks of kidnapping and murder, slow burn, mature content (the reader and namjoon get a little frisky but no sex… at least not in part one), dirty talk, talks of fellatio and cunnilingus — usual warnings: cringy-ness, swearing

words ⇾ 6,3k

. * 　　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . * ⁺ ⁺

“No way.” You mumble to yourself as the car you’re in pulls up to one of the largest villas you’ve ever seen. Just from looking at the exterior of this place, you can tell that it was expensive. This couldn’t possibly be the place the boys had rented out for your vacation. There’s no way. This was way too much for just the eight of you and you were only staying for ten days.

“Um, excuse me sir?” You call out to the driver, whose name you had quickly forgotten within the two hour ride from the airport to this castle you’re currently in front of. “Yes Miss?” He answers politely whilst unbuckling his seat belt. “Are you sure this is the right place?” You question, voice riddled with uncertainty. “Of course Miss. This is the address I was instructed to take you to. Please stay seated, I will get the door.” His accent is thick but you are able to make out every word he says. 

You enjoy the way the words sound rolling off of his tongue. It’s quite pleasant to hear.

“But this-“ You’re unable to protest because the driver eagerly gets out of the car, jogging around to the opposite side to unlock the backseat door. As soon as the door opens, the extremely hot weather hits you. You had no idea Paris got this hot in the summer time. 

You hesitate getting out of the car as it is still cool from the air condition that was just on.

You definitely regret a black hoodie with matching black leggings now…

“Please step out miss,” The driver says with a kind smile. You know that’s just the professional way to say ‘Get the fuck out of my car.’ — so you do, not wanting to hold the man up any longer.

He probably has other people to pick up or maybe you were his last ride and he wanted to get home and retire for the evening, get home to his family... Whatever the case was, you finally decide to step out the car, feet hitting the concrete and the warm weather kisses your face. You instantly hate the feeling. You do enjoy summer, but not when it’s this hot. 

“I will get your bags Miss.” You nod and turn to look around. 

The place is extremely beautiful from what you can see outside. It’s rustically designed, with bricks, stone and wood. The path leading up to the house is all cobblestones… There’s no way you’d be able to get away with walking around in heels without busting your ass in process.

There is a large archway, made completely of stone. You assume that is where the entrance is. 

You pull out your phone and quickly unlock it then go into your contacts... For a few seconds you’re not sure who you should call but then you decide it’d be best to call Taehyung as he is probably the one who picked out this villa… It pretty much has his name written all over it. 

The phone rings two times before you hear the base of his sweet voice flow through your ears. 

“Hi Darling, have you reached?”

“Kim Taehyung, I’m gonna murder you and the others.” You say, somewhat jokingly. 

“Why? What’s wrong? Is everything okay with the house?” He asks you a hundred questions at once. You take few seconds to process everything before responding to him. “Everything is perfect...” You start as you watch the kind man take your duffle bag out and put it on top of your suitcase. He rolls the two up the pathway until he is disappearing behind the stone arch…

You are afraid to move from beside the car, just incase you are in fact, at the wrong place and have to make a quick exit before the owner of the property comes out with a blowtorch to light your ass up for trespassing. 

“That’s the not problem.” You continue, there’s a pause on the other end. Tae is waiting for an explanation.

“What’s wrong Y/N? I’m starting to get worried.” Tae says after a few seconds of silence. You suddenly feel bad for making him concerned but you can’t wrap your head around the fact that the boys went out of their way to get a place this fancy for your anniversary. 

“This place is way too big and expensive... You guys didn’t have to do this.” 

Tae chuckles and shakes his head as if you could see him. “I know we didn’t have to but how often do the eight of us get to go on vacation together?” 

He did have a point. You’ve known the boys for five years and have been dating them for two and in those two years of dating, the eight of you have never gotten a chance to go on a vacation without work being involved. 

“I guess you’re right.” You start. “But still, isn’t this place a bit too much for the eight of us?”

“I personally think it’s not enough but Hyung wouldn’t let us rent the bigger villa a few blocks down.” Tae sighs and you have to chuckle at him. Tae is definitely Prince High in the land of Maintenance and he has the right to be. He’s extremely humble and has worked hard for everything he has, alongside his members. He deserve to enjoy the finer things in life and if that means spending a large sum of money on a vacation villa for eight then why the fuck not right? 

“Okay Miss, you’re all set.” Your driver says as he jogs back over to meet you. “Thank you so much.” You smiled brightly at him. “What time does your flight get into tomorrow?” You ask Tae whilst pressing your phone between your ear and shoulder so that you can rummage through the bag that is draped across your body.

The boys had to take a flight a day later than you as they had a few things to finish up before getting to officially rest. You’d be missing a day with them but you figured you could use that time alone to do a little bit of self care and pampering or maybe a little bit of sightseeing.

“Our flight lands around noon so we should get to the villa around one or two pm.” Taehyung informs you as you pull your wallet out. You hum in response. “Sounds good. I can’t wait for you guys to get here.” You tell Tae as you take the crisp note out of your wallet and hand it over to the driver.

You’re happy that you remembered to convert your dollars into euros before leaving the airport. 

The man before you smiles kindly and thanks you before heading back to his vehicle. 

“I’m excited too darling,” Taehyung informs you, you can tell by the sound of his voice that there is a smile present on his face and that makes a smile form on your own. You go down the cobblestone path to your new home for the next ten days. A soft sigh leaves your lips as you get closer to the entrance of the villa. You’re relieved to be away from the sun and under the shade of the stone archway. 

“Whoa” You mumble to yourself when you see the large glass door and the neon red ‘Exit’ sign beside it. 

“I gotta getting going babe. The boys are waiting for me in rehearsal… We’ll call you later” Tae’s voice rings in your ear.

“Okay, I love you.”

“Love you too baby. Talk to you later.”

“Okay.” And with that you pull the phone away from your ear and end the call with Tae. Phone still in hand, you swipe your finger across the screen a few times to get to the massage app. Opening the group chat you have with the boys, you scroll up just a bit to find the access pin to get into the villa. 

Once you find it, you take a few steps up to the door and tap on the key pad. It beeps to life and you slowly type in the pin, not wanting to mess up. The key pad light up a neon green, indicating that you put in the correct code. You grab hold of the handle and twist it before pushing the door open. “Oh my god,” Leaves your mouth in a soft gasps as you see the interior of the beautiful home. If you thought outside was gorgeous, inside takes the cake. 

Your place would look like a freaking shoe box compared to this. 

You close the front door and take off your bag and the hoodie you’re wearing. The cool breeze from the air condition meets your warm skin and you are incredibly thankful to the owner for leaving the AC on.

You decide to take a few minutes exploring the house. Upon entering the house, you are in the living room which is surrounded by stone walls and archways, just like outside. The brown leather furniture compliments the grey tone of the the walls. Walking further into the house, you step into the kitchen. It’s an open space, with a large window and a rustic wooden table in the center. Moving on, theres a common area with a large cherry wood piano taking up space in the corner. The wall across from the piano has a huge ceiling to floor photo of some musician you’ve never heard of. 

Exploring more of the house, you discover that there is a second living room complete with a huge ass fire place and massive tv, a dining room that seats eight, five bedrooms and five full bathrooms. There’s a recreational area outside complete with a grill, benches and a huge pool. A second recreational area complete with a pool table and to top it all off, a gorgeous cement spiral staircase leading up to the second floor.

“This place is a fucking dream.” You think out loud, shaking your head is disbelief. You can’t even imagine how many numbers are on the price tag for a place like this. You don’t even want to think about how much money the boys spent to book it… 

Going back to the front door, you grab your suitcase and pull it down the hall towards the bedrooms. There are three of them upstairs and two on the second floor. You’re sure you’ll be room hopping or maybe even sharing one room with all the guys so it doesn’t really matter what room you’re in but you do need somewhere to keep your things while you’re there… So, you go for the first room you see. It’s just as gorgeous as the rest of the house and maybe a little smaller than some of the other rooms in the villa but you don’t mind… It’s designed with stone walls, just like the living room, a queen sized bed facing a HUGE window that basically takes up the entire wall. Theres a small circular table and chair placed snuggly in the corner and a few pieces of artwork on the wall. 

It’s perfect for you. 

You pull your suitcase into the room and lay it flat on the floor. Pulling your phone out your back pocket, you sit on the floor with crossed legs. Opening up the camera on your phone, you decided to take a quick selfie. 

You hold the camera up and stretch your hand out to get the perfect angle for the photo. You don’t look your best after a day full of traveling but you smile anyways.  Eyes scrunched closed and two fingers up in a peace sign up, you snapped the picture. You don’t even take a second look at it before going into the family group chat. You select the photo then type out a message under it before hitting send. 

From You

1 Attachment

hiiiii, not sure if Tae told the rest of you but i made it to the villa! its absolutely gorgeous and i can’t wait for you all to get here 🥺 love y’all! 

After the message has been delivered, you start unpacking. First you pull out all your skincare, beauty and body products so that you can bring them into the bathroom. Next you take out all the little dresses and flowy tops you brought with you to hang in the closet. You take out your hats and accessories and neatly arrange them on the little table in the corner. Last is your shoes. A lot of sneakers and flat sandals because comfort is key and a few pairs of your favorite heels that go with everything. You line your shoes up against the wall in the closet. There’s no dresser in the room so you decide to keep your socks and undergarments in the suitcase before pulling your suitcase into the closet so that it is out of the way.

When you’re done with unpacking, you go into the bathroom to take a shower. You need to wash your hair and wash the flight off of you. 

Stepping into the large shower, you immediately sigh when the water hits you. You start by washing your hair, taking time to let the soap lather up and seep into your roots. You could almost fall asleep from how good your fingers feel massaging your scalp. 

When you’re done with your hair, you move on to washing your body. You let the warm water smooth your aching muscles. It takes you a total of thirty minutes to finish up your shower.

You push open the shower door and grab the nearest towel off the shelf. You quickly shake the cloth through your damp hair before tossing it in the hamper. You then decide to work on your skincare. That routine takes you about fifteen minutes. That’s enough time for your body to air dry because you are too lazy to pat yourself dry with a towel. 

In the middle of the last step of your skincare regimen, you hear what sounds like the doorbell ring. The sound startles you, causing you to yelp. “What the fuck?” You think out loud. It rings again and you quickly pat the rest of your moisturizer into your face before grabbing your silk robe off the back of the bathroom door. You wrap yourself up in it before exiting the bathroom. 

Extremely confused, you walk out your room and towards the front door. The closer you get to the front door, the more you’re able to see someone standing on the other side of the frosted glass. 

You can’t make out who is it but there is definitely someone there. The doorbell rings again, causing you to jump for a second time. “Hello?” You say, putting your hand on the knob as you wait patiently for a response but it never comes. 

The person on the other end lifts their hand up to knock this time. “Who is it?” You ask again, feeling like your heart is about to drop down to your stomach from

how nervous you are...

Who in the hell could be showing up to your secluded air b and b at six pm in the evening? 

The knock on the door comes again, a little louder this time. “Who is it?” You ask for the second time, frustration evident in you voice. You’ve watched too many foreign hostage movies to know that the minute you open that door, someone in a mask is going to snatch you up and take you away. 

You look to your left and grab the umbrella from the bucket beside the door... It’s not much but the end is pointy and if you push it hard enough, you’re sure you’ll be able to pierce through the skin of whoever is on the other side of the door. You steady your hand on the knob, ready to open it but you halt when the person on the other side finally speaks.... 

“Kitten, please open the door. It’s hot as fuck out here.” 

You’d know that voice anywhere. Quickly pulling the door open, you are both delighted and relieved to see your boyfriend Yoongi, dressed in all black much like you were earlier. His gummy smile makes an appearance and your heart flutters. He looks down, taking notice to the umbrella in your hand before looking back up at you and raising a questionable eyebrow. “I thought you were a murderer.” You told

him and he chuckles. “Come here.” He says before, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. You wrap your arms around his neck, umbrella still in hand. 

“I thought you guys wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.” You say, pulling away from Yoongi to look at his face. “We wanted to surprise you.” He tells you and you smile before leaning forward to press a kiss to his soft lips.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to escalate. You immediately melt in Yoongi’s arms. He holds you close to him as his tongue desperately licks at your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You smile against his mouth before parting your lips. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his warm tongue into your mouth. “Mmm” He moans against you. Your tongues caress each other’s, causing few moans of your own to fall past your lip. 

“We haven’t even been here a full hour yet and Hyung is already hogging her.” You pull alway from Yoongi against his wishes to find a very pouty Jungkook staring at the two of you. You chuckle then turn back to Yoongi and peck his lips once more before moving yourself out of his grip. You walk over to your big baby and lean up to kiss his next. “I miss you Kookie.” You tell him truthfully and he smiles. “I missed you more.” He says before kissing you again. 

“Um excuse me, can I get a little help please?” Taehyung huffs out. You look away from Jungkook to see poor Taehyung struggling up the cobblestone path with two large suitcases. “No.” Yoongi quickly says. “No one told you to bring a hundred bags. We’re only here for ten days.” He adds and you laugh. You walk over to Tae and take a suitcases from him. “Thank you Darling,” He says sweetly. “I can always count on you.” He continues, speaking loud enough for the other members to hear. You watch Yoongi ignore him and walk into the villa, Jungkook following closely behind. 

“Wow!” Jungkook says excitedly, upon entering the home. 

Turning your attrntion back to Tae, you begin pulling his suitcase along. It’s extremely heavy but you use all the strength you have to get it up the small steps. “Tae, what the hell? What’s in here?” You struggle to get the words out. 

“Is it too heavy for you? I’ll take it.” 

“No, no, it’s fine I can do it but what’s in here?”

“My shoes.”

You stop dead in your tracks, to look up at the handsome boy. “Seriously?” You question him in disbelief. “It’s good to have options baby.” He says nonchalantly. You laugh and shake your head, finishing your journey up the steps and into the villa. 

Tae comes inside after you and his mouth drops in awe at the beauty of your home for the next week. “This is better than the pictures online.” Tae says as he pushes his suitcase to the side and runs off to explore the house. 

Yoongi has already taken up space on the couch, his eyes closed and hand placed over his stomach as he lays across the cushions.

Jungkook is in the kitchen unloading his bag of snacks. 

You realize that those two are probably done helping with the luggage so you go back outside to give a hand.

As you step towards the door, you come face to face with the one and only Kim Seokjin. He smiles brightly at you. “Hi Princess!” He greets you excitedly. “Hello Handsome.” You give his lips a quick kiss before stepping aside to let him in. “Why do you have an umbrella?” He questions you and you look down at your hand. You totally forgot you were holding it. “Oh,” You says before putting it back in the basket it belongs in. “Umm, funny story. I’ll tell you about it later.” You say in amusement. “I look forward to it.” He says, as he struts back over to you and wraps you in a tight bear hug. Your face is pressed to his chest and you silently inhale, taking comfort in his scent. 

“Are you sniffing me?” 

‘He caught me.’ You think to yourself.

 “What? No.. That’s weird.” 

“It’s okay…” Jin tells you. “If I were you, I’d sniff me too.” He says smugly and you instantly roll your eyes. “Ugh!” You groan trying to feign annoyance but the smirk on your face tells a different story. You try to push yourself out of Jin’s grip but he just holds you tighter, laughing at your attempt to escape. “Where are you going?” Jin ask, snuggling closer to you. 

“I’m going to help with the rest of bags.”

“It’s okay Angel,” You hear Hobi’s voice from behind you. You turn around as much as you can whilst still Jin’s grip. Hoseok comes into view, looking as handsome as always, Followed by the equally handsome Park Jimin, strutting in a pair of pink tinted sunglasses. 

“Jimin and I got the last of them.” He informs you as he drops his duffel bag off his shoulder.  “Hi Guys!” You say excitedly before turning you head to look back up at Jin.

“Babe, you gotta let me go now...”

“And why is that?”

“We’ve been hugging for at least five minutes, I wanna hug Hobi and Jimin too.” 

“Yeah, we missed her too Hyung,” Hobi says, making his way over to the two of you. “I suppose... But first,” Jin pokes out his lips out, indicating that he wants a kiss from you. You first reaction is to laugh at him...

“You big baby...” You mumble before standing on your toes to peck his lips once. Of course one kiss is not enough for him, so he pecks your lips two more times. He doesn’t get to go for a third kiss because Hoseok is pulling you out of the older man’s grip and into his arms for a hug. He picks you up off the floor and you squeal.

In an instant, Hobi is smothering your face in kisses, ending each one with an exaggerated ‘Mauh!’ 

“Hobert Jung, put me down. My robe is riding up.” You say through fits of giggles.

Taehyung and Jimin emerge from the kitchen just as the words leave your mouth. “You’ve been naked under there this whole time?” Tae says cheekily. “Obviously, I’m surprise that wasn’t the first thing you noticed.”  Jungkook responses for you.

“So what? It’s not that we haven’t seen you naked before.” Hobi states, finally putting you back down. As soon as your feet hit the floor, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. You know they belong to Jimin. You can tell just by the feeling of his chest against your back. You lean into his touch as he places a single kiss on your check from behind. “I missed you.” He says sweetly and you smile at the sound of his honey-like voice in your ear. 

“I missed you too.. All of you, I’m so happy you guys are here.”

“We’re happy we’re here too.” Jin responses as he walks over to the couch Yoongi is laying on. He takes a seat at the end of it, putting Yoongi’s legs on his lap. Yoongi has already fallen asleep, eyes closed and lips parted as he breathes peaceful. 

“Now the eight of us can really get this party started!” Jungkook exclaims while bouncing side to side enthusiastically. 

“Speaking of the eight of us, where is Joon?” You question, you realize he’s the only one you haven’t seen yet. “He’s upstairs, I think.” Taehyung informs you, ignoring the other seats in the living room so that he can plop down on the floor in front of the coffee table. “He snuck right past me.” You say, a pout evident on you face. 

“Well Hyung was in you face the entire time and I think Namjoon Hyung was on the phone with Manager Sejin.” Jimin tells you, his arms still securely wrapped around you.

“He should be off by now, why don’t you go see.” Jin suggest and you nod your head in agreement. “We should pick rooms now anyways then we’ll eat.” He adds. 

“What should we eat? I didn’t get a chance to go to the market.”

“That’s okay Princess, we saw one in town on our way in. We can stop there.” Jin explains and once again, you nod. “Okay, I’ll go check on Joon.” You say, slipping out of Jimin’s arms. You already miss the comfort of his body against your but it’s fine. You’ll be wrapped up in him again at some point during this trip. 

You make your way over to the spiral staircase and walk up the stairs in search of Namjoon. 

Upon reaching the top step, you can hear the faint sound of his voice. 

He’s still on the phone.

The further you get down the hall, the louder his deep voice escapes through bedroom door.

“We’ll be okay, we have GPS.” You hear Namjoon say. You knock lightly on the door before poking your head in to let him know its you. A smile forms on your face when you see the sight of your handsome man sitting on the edge of the bed, looking oh so delectable in a pair of baggy tan shorts and a cream colored Fear Of God t-shirt that you could’ve sworn you saw on Yoongi once but maybe not? 

The glasses on Joon’s face raise as his check puff up from smiling at you. You nearly swoon at sight of his dimples. 

With one hand pressing his phone up to his ear Namjoon uses his other hand to motion you over to him. “C’mere,” He mouths to you then pats on his thighs indicating that he wants you to sit on them.

You don’t hesitate, happily taking a few small steps across the floor until you’re in front of him. Joon quickly wraps his free hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You straddle his lap, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips. The little robe you’re wearing raises up, exposing more of your thighs as you make yourself comfortable on Joon’s lap.  You try to ignore the feel of your bare core resting on top of the soft cotton of his sweatpants but it’s a lot harder to do than you’d like to admit.  

The man beneath you brings his hand to rest on your soft skin and you drape your arms over his shoulders. 

“Yes, okay...” Namjoon responses to whoever is on the other line, he watches you as your hand comes forward to fiddle with the silver chain around his neck. While you’re in your own world, suddenly fascinated by his jewelry, Namjoon takes the time to admire you. His eyes scan over the features of your face... You look different… well-rested, happier. You’re radiant and glowing and he loves to see it. 

You’re too busy admiring the necklace to notice his eyes on you. “There,” You say patting your fingers against his neckline where the chain lays. When you finally look up, the man’s eyes are already on you.

Slightly thrown off by his stare, you ask “What?” your voice comes out in a whisper, you don’t want to interrupt his conversation but you also want him to hear you and he does. Namjoon shakes his head in response, the smile never leaving his face.

“Nothing, you look pretty.” he confesses and you blush, a small smirk forming on your lips. You lean forward to place a single kiss on his plump lips before pulling away. Joon leans into you, chasing your lips for another one. You chuckle at his eagerness... You couldn’t resist him, even if you tried. 

You press your lips against his again, this time with more purpose. A soft moan ripples from Joon’s throat at the feeling of his lips on yours again. He pulls back from your lips to speak. “I’m fine Hyung.” He says to the person on the line. Now, that you’re closer to him, you’re able to confirm the sound of Manager Sejin’s voice on the other end of the receiver. A devious smirk forms on your mouth as you think of the time that Joon had decided to eat you out whilst you were on a very important call with your boss. Granted, you didn’t stop but still... You would love to pay him back for the time he spent down on his knees in front of you.

You kiss Namjoon again and he wraps his arm back around your waist, pulling you so close that your chests are touching. You’re sure he can feel the way your nipples have harden through the thin material of what you’re wearing. 

Both your hands come up to softly rest on either side of his head, holding his face in place so you can take advantage of his mouth. You tilt your head to the side and begin sucking on his bottom lip. His groan is muffle by you gently pushing your tongue into his warm mouth. He welcomes the sensation of your wet muscle against his. 

You taste so sweet to him, always so always.

As your tongue begin swirling around his, you realize that your hips have been rocking back and forth against Joon’s lap. Your bare cunt, rubbing ever so lightly against his clothed cock. 

‘When did I start grinding on this man’s dick?’ You think to yourself. 

As surprised as you were about your hips having a mind of their own, you don’t stop them from grinding and your mouth doesn’t stop moving either. You decide to drag your lips from his mouth to his jaw line. You begin peppering kisses there before bringing your mouth further down, stopping to give special attention to the spot on his neck that you know drives him crazy. “Y-yes… I’m listening Hyung…” Joon stutters out and you smirk against his skin. He grabs hold of your hips and for a minute you think he’s going to stop you from grinding against him but he doesn’t. 

Instead he pushes you down further, pushing your core against the bulge in his sweatpants. At the feeling of Namjoon’s dick against you, you fight back the moan that is creeping up the back of your throat. You are not here for you, you’re here to make him feel good.

Pulling yourself away from his neck after leaving a few bruises on either side, you take a good look at his face. His eyes are low and they gaze at you filled with desire, his lips are slightly swollen, you assume from biting them when you weren’t looking. 

He’s so fucking fine.

You can’t stop yourself from sliding your hands up his shirt. Your fingers caress the ripples against his stomach. You’ve always loved Joon’s body but since going back on tour, he’s been working out more, defining his muscles and chiseling out his usually soft features... You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the results.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon whispers his question after having moved the phone away from his ear briefly. “Me?” You ask innocently, fluttering your eyelashes. “Nothing...” You say, voice trailing off before you use both hands, still under Joon’s shirt to push him back on the bed softly. He huffs as his back hits to soft comforter. You smile before leaning back down to kiss him once again.

The kiss is more heated than the last time, all tongue and teeth. Your hips start to move on their own for the second time in the span of ten minutes. This time you can feel your wetness spreading across your pussy lips as Namjoon’s cock rubs between your folds. His hand finally slip under your robe and he grabs a hand full of your ass cheek, using it to push you down hard against him. You gasps softly against his mouth before sitting up on top of him, both hands on his chest. 

There is a sneaky smirk present on Joon’s lips. “You’re not wearing any panties?” He mouths to you with a brow raised and you shake your head, seductively bitting your lip. “I’m not wearing anything at all.” You correct him. You thought it was impossible for his eyes to get any darker but boy were you wrong. The way he looks at you with pure unadulterated lust is out of this world.

You lean back down to kiss him, never stopping the rotation of your hips. Joon is solid underneath you, hard as a rock and it feels so good to be pressed up against him like this. 

“Uh, I’m-...” Namjoon tries to speak with his mouth against your lips but it sounds muffle...  You pull back again, just enough to give him room to talk to his manager.

“Hyung, can I call you back?” He says as you sit up, placing your hands on his firm chest. His shirt has risen up, exposing the skin of his stomach and the happy trail that leads to gold. You so desperately want to kiss him there but the hold he still has on your ass and the look in his eyes keep you in place. “Yeah, I’m fine... I just need to take care of something real quick.” He says, the low bass of his voice causes your abdomen to tighten. 

‘Yes, please take care of it,’ is what you want to say but you keep your mouth shut.

“I will hyung. Talk to you later.” Namjoon hurriedly ends the phone calls then tosses his phone down on the bed. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, now with his full attention on you. “Nothing...” You say, you faux innocent look you’ve perfect over the years doesn’t fool Joon. He sits up, using one hand to support his weight while the other is still on your ass, gently messaging it. 

“Why are you giving me a heard time? I’m sure Sejin Hyung heard you.” 

You shrug, deciding to focus on something else besides the look on Namjoon’s face. 

“Isn’t that part of the fun?”

“You bad girl, couldn’t you wait until I got off the phone?”

“I guess but it would’ve been hard when you were sitting here looking so… Fuckable...” Joon chuckles, shaking his head at you. His pushes a strand of loose hair out of your face. “What will I do with you?” He asks, it’s a rhetorical questions, you know but you decide to answer it anyways. 

“Let me suck you off.” 

“Oh baby girl,” Joon starts, pulling you closer to him, so that his lips hover an inch or two away from your own. “How could I ever say no to that?” He starts. “But first,” He continues but before you can respond he is flipping you on to your back, his body in between your legs. “Would you mind if I just….” He begins slowly pulling at the tie in front of your robe.

“Take this off…”

“Joon, I..-“ 

“I don’t think so.” The two of you hear the sound of Jin’s voice. Turning your heads to the door in unison, you see the older man standing against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“How long have you been standing there?” Namjoon asks with an expression mixed somewhere between slightly confused and slightly embarrassed. 

“I walked in on the ‘let me suck you off.’ part.” Your face flushes at having being caught. No matter how comfortable you are with your sexuality or with your boyfriends, being caught talking dirty will always be just a little bit embarrassing to you. Especially since you were never someone who was good at it or so you thought... Things changed when the boys came into your life. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You finally speak

up. 

 “I don’t know... Curiosity, I guess.” Jin shrugs. “Anyways, there will be no sucking off anyone in this house, not until after dinner.” He explains and you have to giggle at his choice of words. 

“Ah but Hyung we haven’t seen her in ages.” Namjoon whines, still on top of you. 

“It’s only been a month Namjoonie.” Jin protest. 

“A month too long... Don’t you miss having her mouth on you?” He says. “Of course I do,” Jin confesses. “Which is why we, as in all of us should wait until later. Why should you have her first?” Jin continues and you sigh, rolling your eyes at the conversation the two are having. 

“First of all, she is laying right here. Don’t I get a say in who I get to sleep with first?” You say as you begin to sit up, forcing Namjoon to remove himself from between your legs, you’re quick to push your robe down, not wanting to expose you wet cunt to world right now

“You know you do Princess. It’s your say or no say at all but I just thought since the seven of us haven’t seen you in a month…”

“Hmm,” You hum in response. “Now I have to think about it.” Your tone is playful as you get up off the bed, smoothing down the silk material your body is wrapped in. You retie the strings, so they don’t come loose as you walk past Namjoon’s pouty face and over to Jin, patting his chest. “I’ll be in charge during this trip... Especially when it comes to my body.” You tell him before leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek. 

“Where are you going?” Joon asks, as you step out of the room. “It’s about time I put some panties on.” You say before going back downstairs to finally get dressed…  

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

The Table is Prepared for You

Luke’s spent too much time alone and knows he shouldn’t let anyone get too close. However, Dinah’s the one time that Luke lets his guard down--and he knows he can’t do it again. 

Vampire!Luke. Black!OC. Here it is, 14k words!

CW: Death/Near Death.

Enjoy my masterlist.

You can support me on kofi

Shout out to @notinthesameguey​ for this moodboard (below), well before any of this was finished. 

(Dinah’s hair is curly like in the first board, in case there’s any confusion!)

Inspired by: Godspeed James Blake’s Cover and Kill My Time by 5 Seconds of Summer

_______________________________________

The snow is wet under his boots and he almost wishes he could feel just how cold it is cutting beneath the leather jacket. Instead, he feels nothing but the slight crisp wisp of wind against his nose. If his body still pumped warm, he’s sure the tip of his nose would be bright red. Quickly, Luke tucks the curls whipping in the wind behind his ear and keeps his gaze trained on the constantly lapping sea the people--folks crossing the streets, cars blaring by, people brushing past him as they carry on from their subway rides back to the surface. 

“Hey!” Luke’s learned from spending time in this city, in all its evolution, just to keep walking. Whoever’s attention needs to be grabbed will either be grabbed or be missed. “Seriously, excuse me!” 

Fingers brush over Luke’s jacket and though initially he wants to bristle at the touch, Luke reminds himself it’s dead of winter. No one’s going to be alarmed. Turning, Luke walks himself to the edge of the sidewalk, mostly out of the way. “Me?” he asks. 

The young man  in front of him is doubled down in the puffy winter coat--down to his knees-- and a gray beanie. Posed in the ungloved fingers is a camera. The boy lifts up the camera, as if that will explain everything. “I-I’m working on my portfolio. I was wondering if I could shoot you right quick. Right here, doesn’t have to be somewhere fancy.”

Luke shakes his head and before he can speak, the young man continues. “I swear, I’m a photography student. I’m so close to down, deadlines right before break. Please, man. You’d be perfect. The whole thing’s about ordinary people. I shoot a few pictures. A quick five minute interview and then, you go on your merry way. Ain’t looking for trouble.”

It’s the backpack, the earnest and pleading look that pulls down the younger man’s brows. His nose is pink, fingers and hands ducking quickly into his coat pockets. “I don’t think you’re looking for trouble. I just--I don’t think I photograph well,” Luke returns, squinting his eyes at the reflection of the sun off the fresh snow. 

“Dude, take it from me, you’ve got looks. And all it would take is just the right angles, right about light exposure. Today’s a little hit or miss.”

The sky’s pretty cloudy but every so often there’s a fleck of a sunshine and Luke does his best to avoid it. The snow clouds will be leaving soon and that means Luke should be too. And it’s probably dumb to say that leaving New York is hard, the memories that are linked here. But it almost feels like home--if he could remember what home really feels like. 

Luke bites down onto his lip, head still shaking. Maybe the shaking will loosen the memories and bring them back to the surface. Maybe the shake will deter the young man’s insistence. Luke doesn’t really know how he photographs, don’t remember the last time he’s seen himself, as whole, as fully a being. Besides, Luke shouldn’t be photographed. No one’s seen him in a couple hundred years and Luke needs it to say that way, needs to continue under the radar. Not that anyone that would have a vendetta against him wouldn’t be able to find him away. The world’s really only so big in the grand scheme of things--there are only so many continents and so many countries, and so many corners to hide in the world. 

Looking over the streets, Luke almost laughs at how he picked one of the busiest and most densely populated places to hang out for a while. Maybe it’s because with so many people around there’s no way anyone would pick him out of a crowd. Until now, until some kid stopped him on the fucking street. 

“Just for your class?” Luke asks, flicking his squinted gaze back to the man. The wind’s picked up again and he’s facing into it, harshly. It’s nearly drying his eyes out. 

“Yeah, just for my class. Look,” he says, pulling out his phone. His fingers look an unhealthy color, like they’re tittering on too pink to be okay. 

“How long you been out here?” It’s a soft question that nearly gets swept up into the gust of wind that passes. 

“Couple of hours. Class starts around 1 and I need this last shoot as soon as possible.” He holds out the phone. Luke takes it, scrolling through the webpage. It’s a sleek design, each photoshoot highlighted by one picture. When Luke tapes onto it, it takes a second to load and then more pop up. There’s a quick paragraph, maybe two, and the rest of the photos.

“Where should I pose?” Luke asks, handing the phone back over. Luke will be gone soon anyway and they can’t really stand to be out in the cold for much longer anyway. 

“Wait, seriously?”

With a nod, Luke tucks more hair back and is quick to place his fingers back into his pockets. “Yeah, just tell me where.”

The young man looks around for a second, the backpack hitting the pole of the street sign. Luke winches, hoping there’s no expensive equipment in the bag. “Over here,” he says with a nod over to the corner. He starts to push through the stream and Luke follows behind him. They pause under some stairs, most likely the fire escape for an apartment complex. “Look over your shoulder for me right quick.”

Luke keeps his body pointed to the man and then looks over his shoulder for a second. “Like this?”

“Perfect. How long have you lived in the city?”

Luke shrugs, turning his attention back to the man. He inhales with a hiss, trying to think. “Couple years? Maybe three. Feels so long and it’s really not.” Luke chuckles, ducking his head for a moment. “God, my memory’s shit.” Luke thinks he hears the shutter go off but he’s not sure. 

“No, I feel you on that. I moved back for school and somehow time doesn’t feel quite the same here in the city. You in the city for modeling?”

Luke feels the shock raising his brows. “Me? Modeling?” A small laugh escapes him, mostly in sarcasm. “No, no, just have some family here. Moved from Delaware. Just seeing where life takes me, I guess.” Luke combs his fingers through his hair, pushing it all back. What he needs is a haircut, and to probably get a move on that whole finishing his trek up north. Life’s taken him plenty of places before and now it feels less like living and more like visiting. It’s going back to all those places from before and wondering how long could a life actually feel. 

“So you just float? Taking you wherever the wind blows?”

It’s only at the question that Luke realizes he hasn’t dropped his hands from his hair. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, dropping his hands. “It’s just easier. In some ways. Like I don’t really have to think too much--just find a job that pays well enough, experience what there is to experience and then, when it’s all said and done, just move on.”

“Guess you’ve learned to pack light, huh?”

Luke grins, a bit of laughter escaping him. “You could say that.” It’s not even light. It’s like having nothing. There’s the essentials of course, some special pieces that have been accrued along the way, but nothing with real weight besides memories. And even those fade eventually. He remembers certain things, important things. Like his mother’s face, or the way his brother would tease him sometimes. But he can’t remember where he grew up, not completely, just hazy rewatchings when he closes his eyes for a moment's rest. 

“What about you?” Luke asks, absentmindedly reaching up to the bottom of the stairs above his head. “You said you moved back here?”

“Yeah, I was born here. Family moved to Virginia and then I moved back. Missed it here.” There’s another shutter of the camera. “So you taking stuffy office jobs? Chasing a passion? You’re a traveler, nonetheless.”

“Odd jobs--mostly night shifts. This city never sleeps and it’s almost better to be awake when mostly everyone else is asleep. Feel less judged.” Right now he was working in the hospital. And though, it wasn’t always easy on him, he enjoyed it. 

“I don’t think anyone’s judging you too harshly. Probably most likely out of envy.”

“Thanks,” Luke says with an awkward chuckle. “Guess I’m still awkward. Unsure of myself.” And it’s easy to be unsure when you’ve seen nearly 150 years on the earth, like what else can you do? What else is there to do besides just float?

“I’ve wondered if it’ll ever go away,” the young man says, pulling down the camera from his face. “Will we ever be sure of ourselves?”

Luke nods, pondering the thought. “The one thing I’m sure of is that every choice I’ve made, I made for a reason. Like even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else, I had a reason. And I hope you-you feel that way eventually. Every choice made had a reason behind it.”

“That’s kind of comforting. Like, I’m not making choices on guess, I’ve got a reason for it.”

“Yeah.” There’s a small lull and Luke looks back to the sky. The clouds look like they’re about to part. “Are-are we good? Got what you need?”

The man nods. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks. What’s your name by the way?”

“Luke. Yours?”

“Andrew. Um--” There’s a moment's pause and Andrew reaches into his pockets again. He pulls out a piece of paper and finds a pen from the pocket of his bag. “I’ll write down the name of the site. The pictures will be up by the end of the week.”

Luke takes the paper with a nod. “I look forward to seeing them.” He pockets the note and says goodbye. He’s quick in his strides to correct course back to the subway entrance and bounces down the stairs. He winds down the tunnel and finds his yellow card in his wallet. The swipe is quick as the light turns green for him to pass through. 

It’s only as his boots click against the concrete and they echo, that Luke looks at the murals, the way the eyes follow his journey. It’s not regret that settles into his gut. He doesn’t regret stopping to help Andrew. Luke hopes that Andrew is somewhere warm or on his way to somewhere warm in all honesty. But maybe what bugs Luke is that he has plans. He had plans to linger in New York for at least another six months before moving again. His last visit in Delaware had lasted nearly two years and in all truth, it was nice to settle in somewhere. But Luke knew if he got too settled in, he was going to run the risk of getting comfortable. There was a guy he had started talking to. They guy always come in late to the gym and they’d talk for a while as Luke wiped down the gym equipment. That was Luke’s sign to get out of dodge, to try and start over. 

Sure, Luke had his degrees. He had done the whole career thing. The only thing about that is building a legacy--having a face plastered somewhere so he did his ten years or so and then slipped from the grid. Went back to school, took classes in a smattering of things that weren’t related but interested him. Sure there were better things to do than work nights at gyms, or do the late shift at a theater, or wipe down dorms at colleges, but it kept him anonymous. 

Now Luke would mostly likely not be anonymous for much longer. Who knows what could happen once those pictures get posted. And Luke really couldn’t risk staying in town too much longer to find out either. So the eyes follow him, but he won’t be around for a long while. Luke hopes that they remember well. He’s sure the next time he comes back around those murals will look different, there will be more other faces to watch him click his boots to the train. 

The eyes do eventually become real. Sitting in the hospital, listening to the constant keep of the heart monitors, Luke knows almost immediately people are watching him. “Going a different route than the scrubs, Hemmings.” 

Luke looks up from his cup of coffee, brows pulling into each other. It’s one of the pediatric nurses, Lucy. “I’m sorry?” he laughs. 

She holds out her phone. The night is chilly and both of them should be wearing jackets. But there’s no use anyway. Luke knows he’s got to get back to the second floor and help get some rooms ready. Lucy could be paged at any second. “When I was grabbing my nutritious honey bun, your face popped up on my timeline.”

Luke takes the device and sees his photos, hand buried his hair as he’s posed underneath the stairwells. It is a great photo if Luke’s going to be honest. The exposure is just right even if it was a little cloudy that day and a quick skim through the paraphy tells him Andrew got a lot more from Luke than just an awkward conversation with lines like, There’s an uncertainty, an air of hyper self awareness to him. But through it all, there’s a caring heart and the want to settle--maybe that’s what we all share, a yearning for something, no matter what it is. We are wanting people. I don’t know what Luke wants; I can’t even fathom a guess. But I do know that I want him to know that he’s compassion doesn’t go unnoticed and even though it didn’t seem like I would get this project finished, I appreciate his willingness to help a stranger. 

“Andrew--he needed some help with his portfolio for photography school.”

“I keep telling you with a heart of gold and looks to kill you shouldn’t be changing bed sheets and dumping stool,” Lucy says, taking her phone back. The air’s cut by the crinkle of her plastic wrapping, her teeth sink into the icing and sweet dough. 

“It’s not all bad,” he counters, sipping his cup once again. “Last week, the older woman on floor 5, that kept saying she was going to bake for everyone--you hear about her?” Lucy nods, a soft hum coming from her. “She sent me flowers. Said I had the neatest sheet tuck she had ever seen. It’s not all bad.” Luke omits the times he sat up with her, fetching her water when her kids had to leave or when she just wanted a chat later in the evenings, he stopped to chat with her. 

“You getting sweet with the older woman, I see? Tell me, trying to get into a will?”

Barely managing to keep the sip of coffee in his mouth, Luke covers his mouth with a hand. His amusement wrinkles his nose and as the sip goes down, he lets his laughter erupt from him in the squeaks. “No, not at all.”

Lucy shrugs, her ponytail starting to fall just a little. “Look all I’m saying is you got in good with an older woman--she’d get you straight. No more sheet tucking for you.”

Luke takes her snack so she can readjust the hair tie. “When I start to really struggle, I’ll consider it,” the sentence falls with the tail end of some giggles. Silence settles back around them cut by the sips and crinkles and inevitably a pager, Lucy’s signal to twirl back into her Wonder Woman suit. 

“One of these days, I’ll be able to finish a snack. Want the rest?”

“No thanks. Gotta keep my figure now,” Luke teases. 

The half honeybun lands into the trash with an echoing thud and Lucy rushes back through the side doors but not before throwing over her shoulder, “You’re figure is fine. The older woman would kill to plumpen you up anyway.” Luke doesn’t doubt that. His own mother would also heap his plates with seconds, even if he didn’t ever ask for them. 

The morning sky hasn’t fully cracked open yet when Luke finally gets to leave, his own jacket tucking away the seafoam green color of his scrubs. There’s usually not too much life happening as he’s leaving. The end of this shit doesn’t feel much different than the others. However, in the ten minute shuffle to the subway, Luke doesn’t miss the lingering glances. Even as his body jostles with the not completely steady rattle of the train, he can feel eyes on him.

 He keeps his head down. If he doesn’t give in, the stares aren’t real. But one less stop from his neighborhood, he risks a glance up. A few heads turn away, but a couple people continue to gaze at him. He wonders if it’s the dirty blonde of his hair, or his pointed nose that seems to be holding their attention. The train lurches to a stop, doors hissing as they open. Only a handful of people step onto the train and their presence cuts the tension of recognition for a moment. Though Luke fears that that tension will haunt him. 

The sun cuts through the skies just as Luke fetches his keys from his pocket and scurries inside his complex. Waiting for the tiny apartment’s elevator to open, Luke knows he has to get out of town and soon while he’s at it. His job can replace him. He can tell them anything, and be gone within the day. As the elevator takes him up, Luke’s already drafting the email to his landlord about his unfortunate rushed exit. 

By the setting of the sun, Luke’s apartment is packed up into his two suitcases and duffle bag. He rolls his bags behind him as his boots click on the concrete. The murals watch him traveling down their corridors and Luke’s hoping they memorize the way he looks, because this is their last meeting. As the walls of concrete whizz by, Luke keeps his eyes trained to the ground. He’s not entirely sure where he’s going from here. Luke had planned to continue up and cross the border into Canada. But that plan relied on a little bit more time, smuggling his belongings across the lines well before he planned on jetting. 

It’s okay though. In the night, he can still get across. As the train comes to its stop, Luke thinks he has to get off eventually. And this stop is as good as any. So he climbs to the surface. He’s not too far from the bus terminals and he knows the airports not too far either. But he can’t fly, or he shouldn’t fly. It’s only as he gazes over the neon lights lighting up the darkening sky, that the craving hits him. 

Coffee, as well as tea, are one of the few things from his previous life that Luke still craves. It’s much more about the taste that soothes him. That and it’s easy to fake being warm with a piping hot cup of coffee or tea in his hands. Luke notices a small diner, just as two people exit from it. He’s heard about the place, hasn’t gone in just yet but maybe he ought to now and buy himself some time on his next move--he needs a paper trail, even if it goes cold. 

Inside the diner is bright, a little cramped in the way of seating. “Booth or counter?” the hostess asks. 

“Booth,” Luke returns and follows as she waves for him. The red accents do a number to date the place but it’s well kept for how long it seems to have been around. Sinking into the squeaky leather, Luke thanks the hostess for the menu. 

“Anything I can start you with?”

“Coffee. Cream and sugar.”

She nods. “Water too?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks.” The menu reminds Luke that he wishes, deeply, that his appetite hadn’t left him. He can eat food and does, time to time, but on the whole, nothing is quite as satisfying anymore. It’s the plate of fries that Luke keeps eyes, even as the mug and glass are placed. 

“Need more time with that menu?”

“Yes, please.” Then it’s just Luke once again, eying that plate of fries and knowing that even if he does get it, he won’t get more than a few down before his stomach clenches. 

“Let me guess.” Luke knows that voice. Though, it’s been nearly sixty years since he’s heard it. “It wasn’t me, it was you.”

“Dinah,” Luke breathes out, unsure if his eyes are actually seeing what he thinks they are taking in. 

She grins, hair just as curly and large as it was the last time he saw her. And the more Luke gazes at her, the more he notices, not much has changed about her. Her skin is still tanned. Her eyes still crinkle just a little in the smile. “It’s been, a long time,” Luke starts, unsure of how to phrase the question. 

“Got space for one more?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Luke waves to the seat opposite of him and she slips into the booth, the leather squeaking underneath her weight too. Luke’s looking for any sign of the time’s that past--a wrinkle, bags under the eyes, anything. But all he sees is Dinah, when she was 28. It’s the same Dinah that would get up during karaoke and belt out songs like she was the one recording it in a studio. It’s the same Dinah that he walked back to her place after an impromptu meeting, and though coffee at her place sounded innocuous, he knew then what that twinkle in her eye meant. 

“Shocked to see you here. Coming or going?”

“Leaving, actually.”

“Funny how life works.”

Luke furrows his brow, head cocking to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Just got into town. Thought it would be nice to have a familiar face to show me around.” Her gaze, behind the dark brown eyes, is heavy. Her fingers play at the corner of the napkin box. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Wait--did you know I was here?”

“The internet is quite literally the world wide web,” Dinah chuckles. 

The photos. She must’ve seen them. And even if she had seen then, how did she get to New York so fast? Why would she even be looking for him? “That it is,” Luke agrees, carefully stirring the steaming drink in front of him. He can’t get over how she hasn’t aged at all. There’s nothing. She doesn’t even seem to be walking with a limp or have difficulty sitting down. As if she had somehow frozen herself in time. 

There was no way though. Who would’ve turned her? It hadn’t been him. And Luke hadn’t heard anything about attacks on human in a long time. Was Dinah not even human when they met? Was she something else? Before Luke can think of his next question, the waitress comes back. “How’s that menu looking?”

“Great,” Dinah returns. “Just a plate of fries.” There’s not even a blink of shock at the order and soon, it’s just Luke and Dinah again. 

“So, how--what have you been up to?”

Dinah shrugs. “Not much. Still singing, making ends meet. What about you?”

“Just making it really.”

“Still bouncing around, huh?”

Luke nods. “Yeah, you know me. Can’t stay in one place too long.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember.” The sentence comes out heavy, the end of it tilting up just a little in anger, maybe it’s resentment. 

Luke knew he shouldn’t have gone in for coffee. He knew what Dinah was looking for, what she was hoping to get. Luke liked to blame it on the fact that he hasn’t properly eaten in a while. He blamed that for his clouded judgement. The truth of the matter is that Luke wanted more out of it too. He wanted to sip on their mugs, at the dining room table. He wanted to move to the couch too. He wanted to give in. But he knew he couldn’t. The moment she got in too close, the moment he didn’t have that mug warming his hands--it would be all over for him. 

“It wasn’t because of you,” Luke counters. “My leaving wasn’t because of something you did.”

Dinah exhales, but nods. The plate of fries is placed between them and they smile up at the hostess, watching her disappear towards the counter to wrap more silverware. Dinah picks up a fry and munches on it, eyes lifted up and away. 

“You know,” she says after swallowing the bite. Her hands stretch out across the table. Instinctively, Luke pulls his hands back, attempting to duck them under the table. But she’s just as fast, if not faster and before Luke can get his hands safely out of her each, her fingers are pressed into his skin. “I always wondered what that would’ve felt like.”

She should be seeping warmth into him. She should be pulling her hand back and hissing at how cold his skin is, but instead, all Luke can feel is the weight of her fingers. How she’s pressing into his forearms and there’s actual pressure to it. “No,” Luke whispers, snapping his head up to look at her. 

Dinah’s eyes are locked in on how her hands looked wrapped around the leather jacket. Luke curls his hands around her exposed wrists. “A lot’s happened since the last time we met, if I’m honest,” she says. It’s only as they lock gazes that Luke knows. Even if she doesn’t ever say the word--Luke knows the truth. 

“Are you close by?” Luke asks. 

“All I have right now is my car. But I was looking to book a room for the night.” Dinah finishes the sentences with another handful of fries. It’s not enough of a dent to be believable, so Luke goes in for a handful too and the second the salt hits his tongue, his throat wants to close up, wants to tell him that this is not the thing it wanted. But he knows he can get it down. 

They split the cost of the ticket and then Luke follows her towards her car. He can’t shake the feel of how she was actually able to press into his skin and it felt like something. It didn’t hurt, but it was real. When he left her that night, sixty years ago, she was warm. Her blood pumped in her veins and Luke had to swallow down every urge to run his tongue over her neck, let his teeth graze her skin just to feel the quickened pulse. 

Dinah’s trunk is full with her own bags. However, Luke is able to squeeze in the bigger suitcase into the trunk before he slips the last two into the backseat. Before Dinah can even turn the key over in the ignition, Luke’s grabbing her hands again. She doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t hiss. “Either I’m insane or I’ve finally croaked.”

Dinah chuckles, slipping her hands from his. “Last time I checked, it took a hell of a lot to kill a vampire.”

Luke stares at her profile, if he had a heart to race it would be right now. Who changed her? What had Dinah gotten herself into to wind up like him? Luke runs the tips of his fingers along her jaw and then down to her neck. And there’s nothing. Much like him. No steady thrum just below the surface of the skin, no blood pumping in their veins. He presses down, nails into her skin and he’s met with some resistance. “Holy shit.” 

Luke’s only ever run into other vampires in hunts, or when new floaters happen to cross into the town he’s lingering about in. Most of the time, they only pass each other with a nod of recognition. It’s a simple act, let’s them both know there’s no trouble and keeps the number of enemies low. Luke’s never had many of those. Once or twice a vampire would come down after him about territory and he’s never really fought anyone about that. There was always a way to hang out and not cross any lines. Though, Luke hadn’t run across anyone else like him in at least 45 years. It had always been a lonely existence, but it was made exceptionally isolating when Luke felt like he was the only one on the fucking planet like this. Part of him is happy that Dinah found him. He’s relieved to know that he doesn’t walk about the living as the only living dead. 

“What happened?”

“Now ain’t that the million dollar question.” The car finally rumbles to life and the radio plays softly, an old school jazz station. “First, though, where are we headed? You know New York better than I do.”

Luke nods, exhaling. If she doesn’t want to talk about it right now, then he won’t push it. He glances out of the window and rattles off directions to a hotel that isn’t too far from them. And not too far from that is a motel just in case the first option doesn’t work. Dinah’s silent the rest of the drive. It wouldn’t be so bad if the drive took the five minutes it was supposed to take in theory. However, the lights catch them often and they sit idle, in silence, knowing something brews beneath the surface but never acknowledging it fully. 

Could have Dinah been looking for him long? Considering she hadn’t seemed to age past what she looked like sixty years ago, she definitely had to have been turned soon after Luke left. The questions all build on his tongue but he only directs her down the blocks, only lets keep straight, or make this right escape his mouth. When they pull up to the hotel, and see it bustling with folks, Luke thinks about Dinah. Had she built up a tolerance to being around humans yet? She’s still relatively young in the life span of a vampire and Luke wondered if this many people around would be setting her up for failure. 

“We can go somewhere else,” Luke suggests. “I can check us in and you can just wait in the car until I get the keys.”

“I’m okay,” Dinah returns, brows pulled together. “Are you comfortable?”

“No, I was-I was just thinking about you that’s all.”

Dinah shrugs, grabbing a backpack from back behind the driver seat and Luke pulls out his own duffle bag. Dinah’s gait is a little fast, not too fast that it looks completely unnatural. But seeing her still learning, or relearning everything she once was so good at, makes Luke smile. The learning curve isn’t a smooth turn. There are a lot of mistakes. Not blinking enough, having to make sure you’re seen eating, or something, keeping as warm as you can. Luke’s learned some tricks, hand warmers in his pockets, holding onto thermos with hot tea. Being seen in the day just enough that no one suspects anything but not bouncing about in sunlight for too long. 

It’s only in the elevator, as a few more people climb in and Luke and Dinah scoot closer together, hands brushing again that Luke thinks about what she said in the diner. I’ve always wondered what that would’ve felt like. How did she know Luke was like her? The elevator stops and a family gets off. Luke reaches forward and hits for the top floor. Dinah looks up to him, brows furrowing together. 

He shouldn’t have given into her so easily back at the diner. He should’ve stayed their longer and asked her more questions. He should’ve investigated more about what she was doing in New York. He shouldn’t have thought about they way she felt, gently brushing up against his shoulder on their walk up to her place. He shouldn’t have thought about the way she looked at him. Memories were deadly. He found Dinah at a bar. He was playing with a band at the time. Nothing too big, just enough to pay his rent in LA. But back then, it was about the love of the thing and not how much money could be attained. She was performing at the open mic night. It was just her and her ukulele but she played it so well, her heavy voice echoing around the bar. She has vocals too big, too bright, too smooth to be captured into four walls. Luke went up to compliment her, just to let her know that he recognized her talent. He wasn’t often one to go up to people. But by then he had spent almost a hundred years on the planet and hiding away in forests was getting exhausting. Luke took his venturing out to the humans slow and steady before finding his comfort level. 

And it doesn’t even help now that he’s remembering the way she called him just to talk and how they walked the beach late that night before she drove both of them back to her place. Her hair blew in the breeze off the salt water and she smelt like strawberries with a hint of something else, that at the time he hadn’t been able to place, but found it out to be a kind of hair grease. He can smell it now, as she stands next to him. 

The level their room is on finally comes up but neither one of them steps off. Instead they let the doors close and carry up to the top. Once on the top floor, they take a step off and Dinah waits. If they wanted to get onto the roof they’d have to find a staircase and fast before someone just sees them standing about and not heading to a room. Luke peels off the left and she follows, pushing her back up higher on her shoulder. She is silent as she follows and thankfully, at the right turn at the end of the hallway they’re met the stairs. Up they go, and even the locked door, it does not remain locked. The night looks different up this high--they’re closer to the stars, or what would be stars but are more than likely just the lights reflecting off the city below. 

“Who sent you? And what do they want?”

“No one sent me, Luke. What’s going on?”

“No one knows. I haven’t told a soul what I am. But you know. I didn’t leave you a note when I left. So how do you know? Are they using you as a lure to get to me?”

Dinah stares up to the sky, trying to keep the tears at bay. Her throat seizes for a moment. “You left. And I went looking, hanging out at the bars we used to go. I couldn’t find you. So I asked a couple folks around. And I fucking asked the wrong questions, I guess. Or maybe I was asking the wrong folks.”

Wrong questions? What wrong questions could she have been asking? Luke didn’t keep close to anyone. Or he tried not to at least. He wasn’t always good at it. Seeing as Dinah’s standing in front of him right now. Luke wants to take a step forward. He wants to give into her. Her gaze hasn’t dropped from the skies and he can see the way her throat constantly works, as if tears are produced in the throat, as if that will keep her from crying. “Who were you talking to? What are you talking about? You sure it’s not the council?”

Dinah shakes her head. “No one’s after you Luke. But me. I could’ve given you up. I could’ve let you be, but I couldn’t. Not after what happened.”

“That’s the thing, nothing happened Dinah. As much as I wanted to, as much as I thought about it, nothing happened that night.”

She shakes her head, lips pushed together into a tight line. “No, you left and I thought it was weird and I wanted to be angry with you. But most of all, I was confused. I wanted to know why had left. And damn, it wasn’t like you left that night and I ran into two weeks later. You completely disappeared. No one at the bar knew where you went. I talked to the guys that were in your band. Two of them had not a clue where you had gone and they were pissed, but they moved on. Mike talked to me later, told me I should just let the whole thing go. He kept saying I was eventually going to bark up the wrong tree at the right time.”

“Mike?” Luke questions. Mike was always a little out there, that was undeniable. He was deep into his history and deep into the supernatural. But not in any sort of way that made Luke super suspicious of him. 

Dinah nods. “Yeah, he left before I really as him what he was going on about and when I called him the next day, I got no answer. Didn’t shock me. But then the rest of the band noticed Mike had just turned up missing. Mike and I--we started hanging out more. Even though I thought it was a little strange at first, he was definitely still sweet. That didn’t sit well with me. I waited for a little bit, then made a police report. And I don’t know. Maybe that’s what tipped the scales. Or maybe the scales were tipped from the start. I’m leaving the bar one night after a show, the rest of my group’s left already. But I hung back to watch the last few people play. And these two guys keep buying me drinks. I took the first one, just to be polite and they were kinda cute. 

“One drinks turns into two. Two drinks turns into them approaching me. They ask me about my music; it all seems fine. We have good conversation. They leave the bar before me. They fucking left! That’s what will never fail to get me. They fucking left and halfway to my place. I get the feeling that I’m being followed. I don’t see anyone behind me. But I’ve always trusted my gut. So I start picking up the pace a little and I round the corner. Run into the same two guys before the bar. We chat for just a little bit longer. I keep fidgeting because I can’t see if anyone’s behind me. Everyone seems not suspicious. They offer to walk me home.”

“They were following you,” Luke deduces. “And they cut you off after they realized you were picking up on them to make it seem like a big whole coincidence.”

“Yeah. We walked and they asked me some questions about who I knew out in L.A. They were new in town and were trying to get their footing. So I was telling them about my band, and I mentioned Mike and your band. Never mentioned your name. Didn’t even want to utter it, or think about it. But just that small connection was the tiny piece. We got to my place and I was getting ready to tell them goodnight when one of them hauled me inside. He was really cold to the touch. I tried to fight back but, it wasn’t even like anything I did affected them. They kept asking me about you and if I knew. I didn’t know what they were on about. I was like, the guy up and left me and his friends, don’t know anymore than that.

“They kept saying I had to know something Mike knew a lot, gave it all up very quickly. The other one kept smelling my hair and neck and I could feel how sharp his teeth were. I told them I didn’t want to die. I would give them anything they wanted, I just didn’t want to die.” She can see the sinister gleam to their eyes, even now. They way they looked at each other, sharing the same thought. All Dinah knew is that she’d do whatever not to die. 

“They were from counsel? The two guys?”

“Don’t really know for certain. I haven’t seen them since, though I went looking. They tortured me. Small bits along my arms and legs, saying that I would tell them everything I knew. And they warned me that others that caught wind of my explorations wouldn’t be so generous. But all I really remember is just how my body felt like it was going cold but also every nerve ending felt like it was being stabbed, over and over and over again. I think I blacked out once or twice from the pain. I remember small bits of them arguing and then I woke up later in a shallow grave.”

“They buried you?” 

“Guess so. I’m not really sure what happened but I think I was carried when I heard them bickering. And when I came too, my arms were crossed over my chest. I could feel things crawling on me. First thought was I was in a sewer or something, but then things felt kinda loose. Stuff was in my nose and it smelled earthy. I panicked at first but it didn’t take me too much longer before I clawed my way out, realizing I had been buried.”

“So what did they want with you that had to do with me? Do you know who council is or what it is?”

Dinah nods. “I know who they are.”

It’s a fact, cold as it falls from her lips. Luke gazes at her, the way she blinks rapidly. His body is carrying his forward. One step, then another and soon, he’s closed the gap between them. He takes her hand, thumb stroking at her knuckles. “Hey, it’s alright.”

A harsh exhale leaves her, a scoff--it carries all the pain she’s yet to utter. Luke hears how heavy it is. Dinah finally brings her gaze to Luke’s face. The piercing blue eyes and button nose. It shocked her initially. When she saw his picture pop up on her social media. He hadn’t aged a day, it was as if someone had found a way into her memory of Luke and perfectly recreate it. 

Dinah holds a steady gaze as she talks. “Council were the ones that found me. I stayed out in the woods. I didn’t know what had happened to me, but I knew it wasn’t good. And I wanted to cry, but it hurt too damn much. Being in the sun hurt. I was in pain, and I couldn’t tell what would ease it. In the day, I had to find ways to hide, tucked into trees, finding tiny caves or places to hide. Some hikers came by. I smelled them. And I knew, or at least I figured what it might be, what I might’ve turned into.

“Council found me. Apparently, there aren’t many of us hanging around the parts of LA. They were coming into town anyway to see how the rest of us were holding up, behaving. They caught the two that tortured and turned me. They were trackers of the council. Only sent out to sniff out the town. They found Mike, tracked him down. They found me.  Apparently, they had actually killed Mike, but not me.”

Luke always knew those guys were getting older and possibly dead. He tried not to linger too much in the past. He didn’t read obituaries. He didn’t even halfway have social media. Luke liked to think that they would always be able to grow old though. That they would always have the one experience he did not, they could live a life. They could settle down. They could see children grow up and have grandchildren, even great grandchildren. Luke was stuck, permanently. 

“Fuck, not Mike.” Mike--well, he was Mike. In all his eccenteries, he was still a good guy, he had been planning on asking this girl that he had been seeing to take a step up in their relationship. Or that’s what Luke last remembers. Luke pictured Mike married, a house full of dogs, maybe a couple kids. That idea suited Mike, who liked the calmer things in life. It still guts Luke though, shoulders sagging. He turns away, looking out over the city. God, Mike dead such a horrific death--terrified and unsure of what was happening to him or why he was the one targeted. And if Luke had just kept to himself, if Luke hadn’t been so fucking cursed to be lonely. 

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Dinah says. 

Luke shakes his head. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m-I’m the one’s that sorry.” There’s a silent pause. “Fuck,” he exhales again. “I-I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. Not you and not Mike either.” He can feel his own fingers starting to tremble now. He should’ve stuck around in town. He could’ve intercepted the trackers and told them that Dinah and Mike weren’t aware of anything, that they were just people living lives in all it’s boringness sometimes. 

“God,” Luke croaks. “I am so fucking sorry. I should’ve stuck around. I could-I could’ve saved Mike and you.”

Dinah grabs onto his shoulders, though she’s always been a good head shorter than Luke, she does her best. It’s more shoulder blade and back than shoulder. She wants to tell him she doesn’t blame him. Well, at least not now. Before she did. Before she was angry. Before she dreamed of being able to confront Luke and rip him a new asshole. She wanted to know why he left and because he left, it left her like this--not dead but not alive either. 

And sure, there’s still some anger. Sure, Dinah wants answers. Most of all, she just wants connection. She has spent the last sixty years, in and out of jobs, mostly holed up, always bouncing from town to town. She was terrified to get too close. But loneliness is heavy. It made her shoulders ache and if she could lay in bed and sleep days, months, years away, she would. Because it was better than walking through this life, if that’s the word to use, alone. 

Luke escaped her house, exiting through her own front doors as she went to the restroom and vanished. Dinah hadn’t always planned on tracking Luke down. The council took her in for a couple of decades. She learned the rules and the laws of this new version of herself. But council wasn’t the greatest company. They were too busy giving into every desire, too busy attempting to rule people, and at the time she was merely a servant role. She listened in on meetings, waiting for one of them to ask for a refill of their glass or to fetch a live drinking fountain, as they liked to call humans. And Dinah knew she couldn’t stay there forever. They let her go with ease, surprisingly. Though she has to check in every once and a while. They told her that they were family, and family always checked in on each other. 

It didn’t feel like family, but it was something and almost every decade or so, Dinah would think about going back. When she first got back out into the world, she had to figure out how to lay low, make some money to get by in the world, but not stick around for too long that suspicion would be raised. That’s when Luke came back to her, that’s when she realized all the things she wanted previously, the house and the husband, and the kids were something she’d never be able to achieve. 

“I was angry for a long time,” Dinah says. “And I don’t know. Call it stubbornness and stupidity, call it having all the time in the fucking world, but I knew I’d find you. I knew I could finally get some answers.”

There’s nothing malicious in her touch. It’s a soft presence, even as she slides her down his back and then it’s gone. They’re standing side by side. “I’ll answer any questions you have.” It’s the least he can do, after everything that has happened. It won’t feel like enough. Even as Luke lets the promise cross his lips, it’s not enough for the amount of years she’s spent hurt and confused, and angry. 

“We did pay for a room, so no sense in not using it, don’t you think?” Dinah offers. If she’s honest, she still doesn’t trust the night all too much. Some nights, ones that are too pretty and too serene, make her tense. She knows it’s fear—it’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. She still watches over her shoulder. The thing that she can only really be herself in is the same thing that strikes fear into her. 

They climb back through the stairs and into the elevator in silence. It’s a little tense, Luke can feel it pressing onto him through the jacket. What questions does she have? Surely, waking up realizing that you’re not dead but not who you used to be is not an easy thing to discover. And surely, there’s part of terror that won’t be leaving her anytime soon. What counselor would be prepared for that either? Luke thought about seeing one. But it never seemed to be a fruitful thought. 

The light on the door lights up green as Dinah holds the card to the reader and the gears click. All Luke notices though is the tight line her shoulders are in and the way she’s fast to click the lights on. The door closes with a heavy thud, gears clicking back into place. “What do you want to know?” Luke asks, letting his bag dropping on the left side of the bed. 

Dinah takes a seat at the chair in front of the desk. “When you left that night, did you know? About the trackers, about council coming into town?”

Luke shakes his head. “Didn’t have a clue.” 

Then it crosses her face, the piece of the puzzle that’s just never click for her. If Luke did know about the trackers and did leave to be avoided, it would make sense. If Luke was attempting to cover his own ass, and Dinah just happened to be in the crosshairs, it would suck, it wouldn’t make her happy, but it would finally make everything make sense. “So why the hell did you leave?”

Luke sighs, staring at the gray and green in the carpet of the floor. His brain’s telling him to say, had to. “I couldn’t stay in town.”

“But you just said that you didn’t know about the trackers!” Dinah pops up from the chair. Even though it’s a good six feet between them, she covers them before Luke can look up from the floor. Her finger pressed into his chest. “You just said that.”

Luke nods. “I-I know. I mean--” Is he about to tell her the truth? Won’t it sound silly now? Won’t it make him sound like a fucking coward? 

“Luke,” she warns. The finger presses in deeper. 

“You were human, or I assumed. I was always this,” Luke gestures to himself, as if trying to brush away something, but all he’s done is reveal himself. “We were getting too close. I was letting you get too close.”

“So, so you left.”

“Yes. To be fair, normally, my past doesn’t come back around. I’m the only one that ever remains. You know, though. You know when you invited me inside that it wasn’t a friendly chat. I knew it. I wanted to give in. I mean, fuck, you’re,” the words are failing him. Because all he can see in her eyes are just how dark they are, just how much they don’t want to let light in, but have always shone brightly. “I found you really attractive. Find? Found? Fuck, I don’t know anymore. But I couldn’t give in. You’d know something was different. You’d know I was different.”

“Because you run cold?”

“It’s not-not just that. That’s a give away for sure. But, we-- we don’t always feel a hundred percent human. And sure, I could’ve explained away that, and the fangs, and literally anything physical. But if I let myself give in that night, I’d have to let himself give in every night after that.”

Dinah furrows her brows. “Did-did you like me?” She won’t ask if he still does. That was so many decades ago.  By now, Luke has surely run into someone new. He had to have moved on. 

“Like feels much too simple. But yeah, I did like you, Dinah. I had spent a lot of time hiding before you met me. I was lonely and then I met the guys in the band. And then I met you and for those hours at night, when we played shows or hung out drinking, I almost remembered what it was like to be human. It was a lot easier to leave before anything happened.”

Her gut feels like a storm. She’s angry--that Luke left, that she got attacked, that Mike died. But she’s also heavy with sadness, all those feelings she thought she had buried are resurfacing. She liked Luke too. She thought maybe she had found someone that was finally going to see her for who she was, not what she looked like, not the color of her skin. And sure LA at the time wasn’t the worst place but it still had it’s issues. Her palms press into his chest and she pushes Luke. It’s hard, more so than what she intended. It sends up backward, with just enough time to stop himself from slamming into the wall, if not through it into the other room. “I thought-I thought for a long time something bad had happened to you. I went around asking about you! I worried myself beyond belief. No one could get a hold of you! You were a fucking ghost.”

Luke catches the lamp as it teeters on the edge of the stand. It’s light flickers before remaining steadily on. “I-I’m sorry.” But sorry really doesn’t fix it, he knows. Because if Luke hadn’t left in the night, then maybe, Dinah wouldn’t have asked around. And maybe the trackers wouldn’t have singled her or Mike out. 

“You know, I almost wish you had known about the trackers. I wish I was just caught at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“If I knew trackers were coming, I would’ve stuck around. I would’ve shown them that you and Mike weren’t a threat. But I didn’t. I didn’t have a clue. And I’m so sorry about what happened to you. And I wish I could’ve done something.”  The rest of the thought stops on the tip of his tongue, but I can’t. 

“I hate the night,” she confesses softly. The words sound like they barely want to leave her throat. “I hate it because it’s halfway the only time I can be me, I’m not under a thousand layers. And I hate it because that’s when you left. And I hate it because even though the council killed those two trackers, I still feel them watching me.”

“You didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to carry that anxiety either.” Luke finally pushes up off the wall, praying there’s no real damage. He doesn’t dare check now though. 

Dinah’s just watching him, attempting to keep the shakes in her hands at a minimum. She can’t tell if she fully blames Luke or not. She can’t know for certain that if Luke hadn't left that she would’ve never been changed. She can’t know for certain that if Luke didn’t leave that the trackers could’ve been stopped, or that they wouldn’t come back. “If you had stayed, wouldn’t you have left eventually? Isn’t that what you’re doing now leaving?”

Luke knows he would’ve left eventually. Even if he didn’t stay around longer, even if he hadn’t run away that night, he would’ve eventually left. It’s all he’s good at--leaving. “I could’ve stayed there forever, no. Eventually, I would’ve left you. But I wouldn’t have left you like I did. I would’ve told you something easy to handle. A bear attack that was terrible. Maybe I tell you I’m leaving to go back home to my family for an emergency and I get on a train and for whatever reason, I don’t make it to the destination I told you I was going. And a letter comes in the mail a few weeks later, telling you what happened because your address is written down on a piece of paper in the pocket of the pants I’m wearing. And that lie would’ve hurt, whichever lie I choose, but it’s much better than just disappearing into thin air. I know that now. I didn’t know that then.

“And I was scared too. I keep moving because I don’t want to get too close. I don’t pursue careers anymore. I take jobs no one wants. I hide because it’s so much easier. Dinah, you terrified me because you reminded me just how human I fucking was at one point. How much I still am some days. I bounce around because I’ve been on this fucking earth for 150 years and it’s only been me. I don’t have a group, I don’t have anyone else. And I could’ve had you--I wanted to have you.” 

The night Luke disappeared Dinah left to go to the bathroom and she was using it mostly as an excuse. She wanted to freshen up, rid her breath of some of the tequila she had in her drink. But mostly, she wanted just a moment to think what her next steps were going to be. Luke and her were hanging out pretty consistently, mostly at night, after gigs. She drove around town, across county lines to watch him and his band perform. He traveled for her shows too. That night, they hadn’t made official plans to meet up, but they knew each other well enough to know where to find the other. 

It was the walk back, as she stared up at the cut of his jaw and the watched the way he smiled that she felt bold enough to invite him into her place. And coffee sounded better than come inside, hang out with me until I decide if I’ll have the guts to ask if this can go up the ladder, if they could take this a bit more seriously. And sure, they flirted. And sure, Dinah knew she couldn’t have that kind of conversation after sex, but she wanted to know the harm in letting herself go. For all the free spirit she is, Dinah didn’t like jumping into bed with someone that she wasn’t attempting to get serious with. Things were going well, better than she had ever considered to go. And sure there were stares and murmurs about them hanging out. And sure, Dinah worried about her safety at that time too, less so because Luke is white and surely, he wouldn’t turn up in a river. 

But when she finally came back from the bathroom, Luke was gone. All that was left behind was a note, on a napkin that said Sorry. And Luke was gone. Dinah hadn’t even heard the door closing behind him on his departure. How could he just leave if he wanted her so bad though? 

“Was it just what we are? Did you leave just because you weren’t like me then?”

“It’s not like council gives you a slap on the wrist for getting involved with a human. If they found out, I knew what consequences were at play. I didn’t want and I don’t want this for you. I left because they’d kill me, change you, or kill the both of us. I left because there was no way I could give you a normal life, and that’s what I wanted for you. I saw the looks people gave you hanging around me. I saw what was happening.”

Dinah’s never been the one that got away to Luke. She’s always been the one that Luke let go. She’s the one that if Luke could go back, and tell himself not to leave like he did, he would. If Luke could go back, he’d burn that note, that sorry ass apology. Tucked away, hidden beneath all the fear, is a tiny piece of hope that Luke did run into her again. That she had lived the life he wanted for her, and that she had grandkids and then maybe, they could meet in secret again. That she hadn’t forgotten about him. Truth be told, Luke always had a table prepared for her, a tiny piece of his heart that always remembered the way she laughed and the way purple lights and red lights on stage dazzled against her skin. 

“That wasn’t your call. That was mine,” Dinah returns. There’s still a gap between them, from when she shoved him. It feels too wide, too far to close. 

“I-I can’t say I was trying to protect without sounding like a fucking idiot, after what happened. But honest to whatever fucking being exists out there, I left because I was scared. I left because I didn’t want you to get hurt. I left because I thought it was the best thing to do. And I know I hurt you regardless. And I know shitty things happened despite my best efforts. But please believe me, Dinah, I didn’t think this would happen. I couldn’t have thought it up in my wildest dreams.”

The lights in the ceiling of the room are bright against the white. Dinah doens’t even blink at the harshness. Luke watches the way she swallows, head shaking side to side. He takes a step, just one and she snaps her attention to him at the movement. His keeps his hands raised. “Di, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t.” It’s one word. It’s hardly audible. No one’s called her that since Luke left. She makes sure no ones calls her that. He called her that all the time when she called, or after she sang him a new song she was working on. His eyes would always be so bright and he’d smile at her like she was the sun, like she was somehow unbelievable and not real, but somehow still in front of her.  “You don’t get to call me that anymore,” she whispers, taking a step back. 

Luke inches a little closer. “You gotta believe me. When I say I’m sorry.”

“I don’t have to believe anything. I don’t have to do anything.” But the truth is, she does want to believe him. She does want him to call her ‘Di’ again like he used too. She wants to know that even though it’s been sixty years and even though she’s still angry a little bit, she hadn’t forgotten how easy it was around him. 

Luke steps forward again and Dinah doesn’t back away. Though, he does note how close she is to the closet. “Do you remember when we stayed up late, jamming to a new song you were working on? I don’t even know how you managed to do it. But we stayed up almost until sunrise--laughing at everything, even if it wasn’t funny. And I pressed your clothes while you got two hours of sleep. I made you pancakes and you got pissed because I didn’t add chocolate chips to them. And you always put chocolate chips into your pancakes. And you told me to take it to the grave that you thought my pancakes were better than your mother’s. I told you that had to be a lie because I was shit cook, but I didn’t want you going to work on an empty stomach.”

“Of course I remember. And when I got back home, you left a note with the recipe and I don’t know what you did, but I wasn’t able to replicate them.” 

“And I had the pancakes that your mom made, you made them for me that next night. And I will say, I have never had better pancakes.”

“Why? Why you bringing that up?”

“Because that night was the first time I gave into you. That was the first night in decades for me that I wasn’t worried. I wasn’t thinking about making sure I didn’t get too close. That was the first night where I thought about what a normal life might look like for me. I watched you sleep and I thought about if that could be normal for us. And it was the first time I was scared shitless in a long time. I was scared when my family died and I couldn’t even be there. I was angry too. And after their funerals, I figured I wouldn’t find that kind of bond again--I would make myself not get too close. And then we stayed up almost until sunrise and I pressed your clothes because you wouldn’t stand for going into work with a wrinkle in that blouse.”

“I’ll have you know it won’t easy getting an office job at that time. I had been a cook or running food for plenty of years prior to that. And I wasn’t going to mess up a good opportunity like that job showing up in a wrinkled blouse.”

Luke laughs, softly, reaching out for her hands. Dinah hadn’t even noticed him creeping in closer to her. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy. What can I do? What can I do now to show you I really mean it? That I’m so sorry for what happened. I’d do whatever it was to make it up to you.”

“I-I don’t think there’s anything you can do. Not right now at least. I need time, Luke. I just--I don’t know what to do right now.”

“We got plenty of that,” Luke counters, brushing his fingers down her jaw. She doesn’t duck out of the touch. She still doesn’t quite feel real under his touch, in front of him. Luke’s sure he’s conjured her up. That he’s going to come to and be sitting in the cafeteria of the hospital and have daydreamed the whole thing up. “There’s plenty of time.”

Dinah can see it, the lean in and she shakes her head. That storm hasn’t gone away in her gut. She still hasn’t figured out if she wants to give into Luke or not. She does want to forgive him. She wants to move on now that she has her answers. “That’s a lot of years, a lot of hurt left.”

Luke nods, dropping his hand from her cheek and takes a small step back. “I understand.” He clears his throat, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. A few curls still fall down in front of his face. “I-I don’t need the bed,” he offers, stepping out of the way. 

It’s an out. And Dinah doesn’t take it. “I don’t need the bed either.”

“I-I haven’t gotten used to that, clearly.” 

Dinah watches the way Luke works his teeth over his bottom lip. His gaze turned down to the floor. She takes his head, threading her fingers through his. “Thanks. For understanding. For answering, honestly. I believe you, about everything. I just need to sort out my own feelings. Because those feelings haven’t gone away, from all our nights together. I just need to figure out what to do with them.”

Luke doesn’t miss the dark brown on her nails, the way it contrast against her skin but isn’t that much darker than the color of her tanned skin. He looks at the chipping red on his nails, the gel that’s grown out. He almost forgot the manicure. It was self administered, but kind of unevenly applied. “We can just talk then, about whatever, about nothing. I’ve missed a lot.”

“It’s not all that glamorous. Much of it is probably like you know, lonely.”

“Surely you’ve had some adventures though. You worked for council--that must’ve been something in and of itself.”

“They’re old and boring. The better story is me at Mardi Gras for the first time.”

“I’d love to hear it,” Luke smiles. He remembers the first time he stumbled across Mardi Gras, how the music almost never ceased and ate more human food than he ever had in a long time. But it all smelt so good and everyone kept handing him drinks and plates ane he couldn’t say no.

“I’m--I just want to shower first.”

“Okay.” It’s soft and Luke’s slow to remove his hand. He’s forgotten what it feels like to hold someone else’s hand, without fear. She grabs her bag and the bathroom door clicks closed softly behind her. Luke stands there for a moment, watching the handle for the slightest movement, listening to see if the shower starts up. Once the pitter of water hitting the basin starts to echo, he surveys the room. 

The wall’s thankfully not damaged in any significant way. The lamp’s in good shape too. Those it’s clear on the rug where Luke skid back just a little. He runs a hand over it, to get rid of the harsh line and finally opens up his own bag. He peels himself out of the leather jacket, draping it over the back of the desk chair. It’s easy to pull out a plain white t-shirt and some shorts for him to change into. 

The air unit rumbles and the water from the shower echoes, long after Luke’s changed out of the jeans. He keeps the volume low on the TV and almost goes to turn the overhead lights off, but opts to keep them on remembering the way Dinah talked about the night and how tense she seemed to be walking into a dark room. The mattress gives easily under Luke’s weight. He pushes the pillows all the way up against the headboard and reclines into it. There’s nothing to do right now but wait.

 Part of Luke does worry that all Dinah wanted out of him were answers. That she’d manage to slip out some kind of way and she’ll always just be a fragment of Luke’s life, a piece that he would always hunger after but never be able to satiate. However, the bathroom door cracks open and a tiny bit of steam escapes out in the air not occupied by Dinah. It’s just a tank top and leggings but Luke’s quick to turn his attention back to TV. It’s definitely not the gown she used to sleep in all those years ago. But even then, that felt scandalous too. And maybe it’s not even the clothes themselves, it’s just Dinah and the attraction that Luke never lost. 

Dinah settles next to Luke on the bed, watching first just the TV screen. “So Mardi Gras was the first time I realized that because I didn’t have hardly any blood in me, getting drunk takes a lot more than it used to.”

Luke tries to hold back his laughter, one hand covering his mouth. “Do not tell me that you were just slamming back drinks and suddenly realized folks were looking at you crazy for not being drunk.”

“No, of course not. I was absolutely told that in order to feel the same affects from alcohol before I required a lot more than before. No, no one told me. Though, my stomach at the time was use a pretty blood heavy diet, so eating and drinking human food made me queasy. So when I vomited shortly after, folks stopped staring so much afterwards.” Luke lets the giggles escape him, shoulders shaking as he holds onto the remote. “I did however, keep that in mind when I went to Carnival.”

Luke quirks an eyebrow. “Are we talking like, a carnival cruise ship?”

Dinah shakes her head, no, laughing. “No, definitely not the cruise ship. Trinidad Carnival. I heard from some other girls about it. They invited me to go with them. I looked good that trip.”

“Was this during the day?”

Dinah waves a hand. “Details, details.” Though they can withstand some sun, they can’t handle a lot of it. And in Trinidad, Luke can only assume there’s a lot of sun. Now, if Dinah knew about the fact that they can handle more sun if they’ve previously had some blood. It’s not a significant increase on the amount of time they can be out in the sun, but it is a decent bump up. “I kept to the night mostly, but I did hunt a little so I could go out during the day.”

Luke nods. It could be from her time with council or it could be just trail and error on her learning. He doesn't push on the details though. “Speaking of hunting, what’s your prefered diet?”

“It’s not polite to ask a woman about her weight you know.” It almost sounds serious until Luke sees the smile lifting her cheeks. 

“Pardon me then.”

Dinah shakes her head, a small tuft of laughter trailing off. “I go mostly for animals. But I have had human blood. It’s a treat? Which is not something I thought I’d ever say in my lifetime.”

“It’s wild times for sure.”

“You?”

“Considering I’ve been living in plain sight for the last hundred plus years, I don’t give into human blood much. Was kind of hard when working in a hospital.”

“You worked in a hospital?”

“I changed sheets and cleaned up waste. It wasn’t glamorous.”

Dinah thinks back to when she ran into Luke. At that time, he was working in the local grocery store. Rumor had it before he disappeared he was lined up to take over as manager. Dinah wonders if that was considered as getting too close. “Is Luke your-”

“It is,” Luke answers. “It is my real name. I change the last name now most often. I’ve used aliases for my full name before too.”

“The tricks we all have to learn in order to survive,” Dinah comments. 

Luke hums in agreement. “I stopped using first name aliaser a while ago. Luke’s a pretty common name. No one really cares.”

“When you say a while ago, I hope you don’t mind after me.”

Luke shrugs, giving neither a here nor there answer. Though, she’ll know the truth. It didn’t feel like lying before. It felt like survival. It felt like the smart thing to do, to bury who he was and become whomever he needed to be at the time. But after Dinah that all changed. A lot changed after her, but he doesn’t offer that up. He swallows that thought back down and flicks his gaze back to the TV in front of them. 

“What’s up next for you?” Dinah knows she shouldn’t ask. She shouldn’t have so much hope in her voice. 

“Take a bus somewhere, anywhere really. I’ve learned to travel light and just go wherever feels right.”

“So where feels right to you?”

“North,” Luke answers, turning his head to look at her. She’s picking at her nails, head hanging low on her neck. “What about you?”

At first it’s just a shrug. “I’m kind of tired of moving around. And I feel silly saying that to you. You’ve been dealing with this shit for a lot longer.”

“The only thing that kept you going before was probably the hope of running into me. So it makes sense. Now you’ve gotta recalibrate. Figure out what you want next.”

“I want to settle down. I know I won’t ever have the normal life or the kids, or grandkids that I wanted. But I’ve bounced from a few covens that were nice enough to let me stay and I guess I’ve always been a sucker for the found family idea.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, settling down. Just requires some money and the right place.”

Dinah nods at Luke’s comment. She was a little screwed on the money part. She didn’t have much before her change and in the time she had left the council, a lot of what she made went towards her car and the ventures to find Luke. Now, she had to figure out where she could settle down and what work she could get to help her save up. The conversation turns into a small lull, both of them watching the show on the TV. 

Luke didn’t want to lose Dinah a second time. But there was no way he could just ask to join her. Not after she told him that she had to sort of her own feelings. It’s easy to see though. It’s easy to feel how things feel like they’re almost picking back up from when they last met. But it’s not an edge to it, a bit of tension. So Luke lets the question linger on the back of his tongue but doesn’t voice it. The conversation takes a turn to a story about how Dinah’s saved quite a few cats from trees and Luke shares a few stories about his time at the hospital, the older woman that hit on him. 

Before they even realize, the sun’s peeking in from the curtains of the room. And even sooner than that, the sun starts to caress the horizons again. Luke doesn’t know where he’s going to wind up, what he’s going to be doing tomorrow let alone what will happen in a couple of weeks. He scribbles down his email though onto the hotel stationary. He makes sure to tuck into the palm of her hand at the entrance of the bus station. “Do you remember the address of the bar we met at?” Luke asks. 

Dinah nods. “Yeah I do. It’s not a bar anymore. It’s part of some shopping center now or it was the last time I checked.”

Luke nods, it was a shopping center when he last went by it too. “Meet me there. When you get those feelings sorted out.”

Dinah almost tells him that he should join her. He should stop running and finally settle down. Though, that could be her projecting more than it is what he actually wants. Dinah glances at the paper at the email address scribbled across it. “I can do that.”

“Reach out. Anytime. If that changes, I’ll let you know well in advance.”

“Who’s leaving who?” Dinah asks. It feels stupid to ask right now. If she really didn’t want Luke to go, she had every chance last night and during the day. 

“Maybe this isn’t leaving.” Luke needs it to be leaving. He wants to invite himself along. He wants to join along because it’s Dinah. Because he’s got a second shot with her. But he’s not sure if settling down is smart, right now. If it’s what he needs to do. “Maybe it’s just ‘see you around’ like an until next time. Now you don’t have to track me down. “

*********

Luke’s sitting at the bar, a towel thrown over his shoulder. The night’s yet to begin really. It’s early and a Friday night. There’s no doubt in his mind thought that in another couple of hours the entire place will be packed with a flood of people. A new patron wanders in and slides up to the bar. Luke greets them with a smile, taking in the dark curls on their head but he knows it’s not Dinah. He keeps hoping. He keeps praying, but so far in the month and a half he’s been here, she’s yet to show up. 

They’ve talked extensively over the last couple of months. Luke went north for a little bit, but ultimately his gut told him to head south and go west. So he did. He landed back just north of where he lived last time out in LA. He had a gut feeling, something that itched the back of his brain and told him that Dinah would just randomly show up in LA. She wouldn’t wait to make a date and time to meet. Luke wanted to beat her to the punch.

“Cider please,” the woman asks, listing off the house brand. Luke checks the ID before reaching for a clean glass and pulls the level for the tap. 

“Opening or closing?” he asks. 

“Just the one,” they return, handing over the card. It’s a few more seconds before the receipt prints off for them to sign and they disappear to the floor, off to a booth. Half an hour later, more people filter in and head towards their booth. 

Luke hangs back, making sure all his bottles are full and ready for the night, that there are no messes on the spill mats though soon he knows there will be the inevitable spill from him. His phone vibrates in his pocket and he steals a moment to look at it. A notification for a new email. On instinct, he’s quick to open it and a brand new email sits in his inbox. The subject sends him into a frenzy. 

Meet me downtown. At the dive bar. 

Just as Luke goes to reply, not bothering with the body of the email, a voice calls out to him from the bar. “What should a girl drink around here?”

When Luke lifts his gaze from his phone, he laughs. Dinah’s dressed in her old school signature red jumpsuit, those it’s definitely been revamped since the last time he’s seen it. Her hair’s braid back into a mohawk. But it’s still Dinah. “What are you looking for? Something sweet? Something to knock you off your ass?”

“Little bit of both.”

Luke starts to make her a drink, remembering from all their adventures what she’s always been partial to a little tequila. “How’d you find me? This isn’t our meeting spot.”

Dinah shakes her head. “You told me where you got a job. Or did you forget?”

The orange drink settles in front of her and Luke tilts his head to the side. “I don’t remember telling you.”

There’s a snort that cuts through the chatter and music of the bar. “Well, you did. Which is why I’m here.”

A group walks up to the bar and Luke excuses himself for just a second to help them. It’s a minute between setting up shots and drinks, but Luke watches Dinah from the corner of her eye. She stays perched at the bar counter, sipping at the tequila sunrise. Luke winks at her, pulling the last bit of sprite into the drink and sets it onto the counter. The group opens a tab and starts on their way back towards the dancefloor. 

Luke’s sure he probably did tell her where he’s working. He’s sure that he wanted to be explicitly clear that he was waiting on her. Maybe it was just his own brain playing tricks on him. Even though he was around forever, didn’t mean he wasn’t exempt from the occasional brain fart. “So, if you’re here,” Luke starts, wiping his hands on the towel, “I hope that means feelings have been sorted.”

“Yes,” Dinah laughs. “Yes they have been. But I don’t want to impede on your job.”

“Told you it was only a matter of time. My shift ends at 2. If you don’t want to hang around, I get it. Just meet me back here and we can go and talk and I’ll make you chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Or I could sit here all night, staring at you, and then we leave for your place for chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Both of those work,” Luke laughs. Briefly, he runs a hand over hers. She’s real and she’s here. From wherever she’s been, Dinah’s sitting across the bar from Luke right now. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on. If you ever found that place to settle down at.”

Dinah squeezes his hand, unsure of what she can say, of what words convey how relieved she’s here, sitting across from him. “We do have a lot to catch up on. But thank God we’ve got plenty of time, right?”

She’s not insinuating what he thinks she is. Luke’s sure he’s standing there with his mouth agape, big enough for any number of insects or birds to make a nice home. Dinah’s laughter cuts above the throaty croak of the bass. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying,” Luke whispers, leaning across the wooden counter to her.

“Maybe I am,” she grins, hands cupping his chin and the slight scruff decorating it now. 

It’s quick. Fast enough that Luke swears he can hardly register it, but slow enough that it definitely makes me crave more. Her lips seal over his in a kiss. One he wishes he could’ve had earlier. But nevertheless, the feeling of her lips against his is something that he won’t ever be able to get over; it’ll be implanted into his memory for the rest of his existence. 

“One more,” Luke whispers against her lips, feeling her drawing away. “Wasn’t long enough.”

Dinah laughs, but kisses Luke again. A little longer, a little firmer, a little deeper than the first, But she wheels it in, “You’re on the clock, you know?”

“I can very quickly be off it too.”

“Luke!” she reprimands, pushing lightly at his shoulder. “I am going to take this drink, which, here,” she slides cash across the counter, “definitely need to pay for and I’m going far far away from the bar so I’m not a distraction.”

“No, stay. Want you close. And you do not need to pay.” Luke straights up, sliding the bill back towards her. 

“A tip. For you and your amazing customer service,” Dinah urges. And whether Luke likes it or not, he obliges before getting back to work. Dinah knew about two weeks after he dropped Luke off at the New York bus station that she was going to find him again. And when she did find him again, she wouldn’t have questions and she wouldn’t have so much hostility. First, she needed to work through all that. The calls helped; they opted not to email too much but the conversations along the way helped alleviate the residual confusion. Contact was often and thorough and when she needed space, Luke didn’t cross it. 

She looked for a place to settle down at and she concluded on a place up in Canada. It was nice, mostly tucked away, but still close to a city that she could still get necessities. She hadn’t told Luke about it yet. He hadn’t made any clear indications that he was looking to settle down but it shocked her when he mentioned moving to LA and finding local work. She was under the impression that they would meet again, in LA, when both of them were ready. However, maybe this was an indication that Luke was ready already. 

The night goes by fast. Or maybe it just feels fast because this is Dinah’s day. After last round, Dinah lets Luke know that she’ll be waiting outside, in the front lot. The Uber’s and taxis pull away, after picking up their respective groups and leave Dinah in the almost dark. But there’s so much light around from other signs and bars and restaurants, that it’s almost impossible to be in the dark for too long. 

“My car’s over here,” Luke states, well in advance, to warn Dinah. She turns to find his throwing his thumb over his shoulder. “Where did you park?”

Dinah points her keys in his direct and her car beeps to life. “Few spaces from you.”

“Should’ve known. We can take your car. Mine will be fine overnight.”

“You sure?”

Luke nods, reaching out for her hand. “I’m sure. You’ll just have to give a ride to work--that’s all.”

“Something tells me I think I’d be okay with that.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he laughs, brushing his thumb over her skin. “So, you gotta let me in on what’s been happening with you?”

“You know me. Singing to make ends meet,” Dinah teases. Luke bumps her arm and she knows he wants the truth. She knows that he wants to know about the settling down and the feelings. And she can give all that to him. She can give him all the truth. 

Tagging @5-secondsofcolor​ for morning reads

[bloodieorchid]

Cafe Rouge - CH 2

Cafe Rouge - Chapter Two : Cortado

Next ->

<- Last

<- First

A college student finds a job at an elusive coffee and book shop after the disappearance of the past barista. Only after the interview and many confidentiality agreements do you begin to learn the secrecy behind Café Rouge.

YANDERE MALE x READER, YANDERE FEMALE X READER, YANDERE NB X READER

CW: This story will contain dark subject matter regarding stalking, abuse, violence, the yandere tag in general, and more to be added as this story is written and updated. I, as a writer, do NOT condone any of the activities in this story and only seek to write a horror romance. All pronouns are gender neutral so everyone can read and imagine themselves in the story.

         “Now, you need to steam the milk off center so it makes a vortex,” Knight called out as you cupped your hands around the silver milk pitcher. “Hold the handle, but touch the bottom. Once it gets too hot to hold anymore, you’re done.” Knight called and the steam wand powered on, roaring and whistling like a train going under a bridge. Your fingers felt the temperature rise and grow until it burned and you quickly turned off the steam wand. Knight walked over, whirling the milk in the picture and hitting it against the wood counter of the bar. 

        Knight took a shot of espresso and poured it into a small glass, slightly larger than a shot glass. He then filled it with the steamed milk, pouring slowly to allow the milk to make designs on the surface. He set down the cup to reveal a series of hearts within each other. “That’s how you make a cortado with a rosetta,” Knight smiled as he gave you the cup, letting you sip. It was bitter, but creamy from the steamed milk and slightly sweet. You smiled into the cup. “It’s good, might not be my taste though,” you explained. He nodded. “The first cortado is always an interesting one, but good once you get used to the bitterness,” he explained. 

        The shop had closed down, allowing you to train for the evening and to get grips on the espresso machine. Knight was assisting while Bishop counted the day’s tips and cash drawer. “So, are those all of the usual regulars?” you asked politely while rinsing the cortado glass. “No, we have a couple others, those three or four come in near every day. Willow always comes in to study, but only really stays for an hour or two. Mr. Arnold gets his morning cup of espresso, sometimes he gets a drink to go before he heads to work as a realtor. Then, Mona gets all of the drinks for the Mayor’s office since she’s the new girl over there.” Knight, no Shane explained. 

        “We also have a couple of regulars who only come in when specific baristas work. Mr. Arnold always comes in the mornings around when I come in. There’s another girl named Queen who has a whole crowd of guys who come in the afternoons.” Shane explained as he wiped down the bar and prepped to clean the espresso machine. “No one knows she’s a lesbian though, that’s how she prefers it. She leaves with always close to fifty or a hundred dollars in tips alone,” he commented with a chuckle. “Fifty or a Hundred? In just tips?” you astonishingly called out. “The record for most tips goes to an old barista we used to have called Check. On his last day before graduating, he left with nearly three hundred dollars in tips. The people who come here have their unapologetic favorites. Check even comes in sometimes, he now works down the block for the one of the lawyers in town,” Mr. Bishop called out as he finished counting the money. 

          Mr. Bishop turned around with two pastry bags with the words ‘Rook’ and ‘Knight’ written on them. “Tips for today,” he explained. You gently grabbed your tips before you looked at the large number written in sharpie of ‘64.32′. You stared at the total before nodding and putting it gently back in your bag. “Make sure you be careful on your walk home, Mx. (L/N).” Mr. Bishop called out as you slung your bag over your shoulder. You nodded, “Don’t worry, Mr. Bishop. It’s a straight shot home,” you smiled reassuringly. You couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the owner of the shop, worrying about the safety of all of his employees after what happened to Laura. He nodded. “See you in the morning,” he bid you farewell before turning back into the office. 

          You stepped out of the door, into the light filled street of Ravenswood. You sighed in the fresh air, seeing your breath from the October chill. You wrapped your jacket tighter around you. It wasn’t winter coat season yet, but it was close enough where a jacket was needed. You hurried home, walking along the street and glancing into the windows of fancy restaurants, boutiques, and offices. You glanced at your reflection in the glass, pausing for a moment to see how your cheeks were flushed from the cold and felt warm. You sighed softly, rubbing your hands to your cheeks. 

         Suddenly, you heard a crash to your left. You glanced over to find a dark alley, just barely out of the light of the street. You looked around, the street empty of pedestrians and only one car drove past in the past minutes. You slowly walked to the alleyway, hoping for a cat or something falling out of the window. However, there wasn’t anything in the alley that you could see. You turned on your phone’s flashlight and walked down into the alleyway. You weren’t met with a car or a lost cat jumping to freedom from a fire escape. 

          On the ground below you was a small box, wrapped in newspaper with a black bow. You looked around before picking up the box. You noticed a small tag on the bow, pulling it up to reveal ‘to Rook <3′. You frowned in confusion, standing up before moving the bow and opening the box. Inside, was a single tarot card. 

         There in the box sat card number I, the Fool. A vagabond or explorer traveling into the unknown, unfazed by the dangers. Covered in gold, but a picture of your face had been taped over the Fool’s and your eyes were covered in tape. Accompanying this was a small note tucked underneath. 

        “Travel carefully, little Rook. You wander further and further out of the light. It will be a shame when you find yourself trapped in the darkness. 

                                                Your new admirer, Reti” 

         You held the box in confusion, looking around for a sign of who dropped the box and becoming more and more anxious when - 

         “(Y/N)?”, you turned quickly to reveal your coworker Shane. “What is.....” he quickly made steps toward you and saw the box and immediately frowned. “We need to show that to Mr. Bishop, now,” he said, looking at you harshly. “D-Do you know who sent this, Shane?” you asked confused. “Someone from the shop, I assume they called you Rook?” he asked. You nodded and handed him the box. “Come on,” he lead you back to the shop and opened the door. 

         “We’re closed,” Mr. Bishop called from the back. “Sir, (Y/N) found another box. It was addressed to ‘Rook’,” Shane called out. Mr. Bishop stepped into the front. “They’ve worked two days.” he said as he walked to the counter. He frowned as he saw the box and squinted at the note. “I don’t understand, who sent this?” you asked, looking at your new boss. 

           “I wanted to let you get settled in before you started to deal with this stuff. Someone from the shop likes you and wants you to know it.” Mr. Bishop frowned as he flipped the tarot card. “This doesn’t exactly seem friendly, Mr. Bishop,” you rebutted and rubbed your cold arms. “It’s not, while the majority of our shop is full of nice people most days, we’ve apparently attracted a clientele of the occult and people who have probably broken the law,” Shane commented while frowning. 

            “Well, it’s simple. We just go to the police, and they find this mystery stalker,” you commented as you stood tall. Mr. Bishop looked at you, “We tried that last time, but whoever took Laura got her after we got the police involved. They didn’t care about attention, they wanted her for some reason.”

           “This means....” 

            “You’ve peaked someone’s interest, (Y/N) and we need to find out who before you end up like Laura,” 

[sp00kworm]

April Rain (Chapter 5)

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN LINK

Ch 1    Ch 2    Ch 3     Ch 4  

Pairing: All Might/Yagi Toshinori x Female Reader

---

The familiarity which Yagi approached the front desk gave you piece of mind. He gave his bright, sunshine smile as he approached and waved a large tanned hand as he stood over the desk, laughing as the owner spat out his tea and proceeded to choke. The girl behind the register cheered.

“ALL MIGHT ALL MIGHT ALL MIGHT!” She danced on the stool before jumping on top of the desk, grabbing for Yagi as he pumped his fist and laughed.

“Hina! Hina, please! Get down before your mother comes in here!” The man pushed his tea aside in favour of grappling his daughter from the counter, holding her under the arms as she continued to cheer wildly.

“Hina?! You better not be letting her on that counter again Reo! I just polished it this morning!”

“No, Akasuki! She’s just excited about our visitor is all!” Reo laughed awkwardly as he held his squirming daughter, scrubbing a hand through his dark hair as his wife opened the screen behind him with a scowl. Her eyes went wide at the sight before her.

“All…Might…” She stuttered before rushing to her feet, red in the face as she wrangled her daughter from her husband’s grip, “I apologise, Mister All Might. She simply adores you and oh gosh…” Hina squirmed again with a cheer.

“Mama! Let me see!” She tugged at her mother’s hair to twist around and get another look at All Might, her eyes bright and wide with glee, “All Might!” She cheered again as Yagi laughed and let her grip his fingers.

 “It’s been a while, Toshinori.” Reo observed with a laugh, “If you’d let me know I could have ordered in things for you in advance! I don’t know if we have many of what you usually buy left in stock.” Reo stood and wiped his hands on the bottom of his apron, tucking his net into the pocket as he pulled up the counter and stepped through before latching it closed behind him.

“Don’t trouble yourself, friend. I’ve brought…some company to help me choose something this time.” Yagi’s face went a little pink as he looked over to you by the door. You’d occupied yourself by looking at terrapin food, not really reading the packet in your hand, you’d just been pretending to look at it while listening in on their conversation. The sudden mention of you made you awkwardly put down the feed and turn to face the family with a smile.

Reo blinked, “You brought your girlfriend?” He asked with a sly smile. His fist met All Might’s shoulder, “I didn’t think you had it in you!” He cheered before laughing at his friend’s bright face.

Yagi brushed off Reo’s jeering before ushering him back behind the counter, reaching into his pocket to tug a photo free. He handed it to Reo’s child with a smile, “Here, Hina, was it? You can put this up in your room.” He offered the signed picture with a smile before moving to take your hand, “Don’t worry about us, Reo. Just…maybe don’t let anyone in?” Yagi asked politely.

“Sure thing, so long as you buy something.” Reo joked before locking the door behind the two of you.

 Yagi sighed when you made it into the shop, the warmth of the tanks making you sigh, blowing air up your face at the heat. It was humid and the tanks were extremely loud, the water bubbling loudly in the stacks upon stacks of rows of tanks, housing tropical fish waiting to be rehomed. The ones in tanks closest swam closer to the glass as you entered, large eyes following you as most shoaled and curved together. Yagi hummed, pulling at his sweater because of the heat as you looked around at the fish in the room. There was all sorts of breeds and different species.

“Which sort did you want for the tank again?” You asked hopelessly as you looked up the walls at the gallons of water and thousands of fish. You stepped over a puddle of water as you gazed at some great cichlids, their bodies a few inches across. They came in all colours and some variants had aggressive labels to allow for those with good natured tanks to avoid them.

Yagi chuckled, “Nothing like those. They are the sort you can only keep with their own species.” He took your hand in his own, the warmth radiating up your arm as the man pulled you past the various sizes of Cichlids, and towards the other species. Tetras in all shapes and colours shoaled as you glanced up at the wall, some thick, some fat some streamlined. Barbs sat in tanks on the next stretch of wall and Yagi smiled as you looked at the pink tinged, gold, Rosy Barbs with adoration. The barbs fluttered, pink gold scales glittering as they swam from end to end and back.

 “Did you see something you like?” The deep timbre of Yagi’s voice next to your ear made you jump, his breath hitting your skin as the giant hero extended back to his full height, stroking his chin as he glanced at the barbs, “Perhaps these?” He pointed at the pairs of electric blue striped Golden Rams. The stripe down the males’ bodies were striking, but they seemed to only enjoy the sluggish current of the small tank, living in pairs and gently bobbing around.

“They’re a little bit boring.” You lamented before looking back at the barbs. Green Tiger Barbs. Their upwards turned mouths plucked naughtily at the plants in their tank, “I still think the barbs are best.”

Yagi laughed, “They have spunk…But maybe the tetras would be best? They’re much easier to socialise depending on what we buy.” He hummed as he turned his bulk in the small corridor and looked at the tetras before pointing to a pretty set with long black fins, “These are pretty.” He commented, a large finger following one of the flowing males. You ignored his comment in favour of walking closer to a group of purple tinged fish. You looked at the tag. Yagi walked behind you with a hum and grinned over your head.

“Bleeding Heart Tetras?” He asked gently, “Are you sure?”

With a grin you nodded, “Look it says they get a little red blotch like a heart, come on that is adorable. You have to get them!” You persisted.

Yagi laughed and gently led you away with a hand at the base of your back, “Let’s get Reo to catch us some.”

 Reo was surprisingly efficient with a net. He caught fifteen of the small tetras quickly and rung up the price on the register as Yagi snatched a new granule feed and flake for the baby fish.

“That’ll be…” Reo clicked in the prices of the food and smiled, “Nine thousand five hundred yen.” He offered, watching Yagi roll his eyes and pull the cash from his wallet. Reo put the money in the register before smiling, “I put some oxygen in the bag to keep ‘em alive for the journey.” He moved back through the counter and unlocked the door, chewing a small wooden toothpick as he moved out of the way of you both.

“Thank you, Reo. I’ll take good care of them.” Yagi promised with a chuckle.

“You ought to with that tank. I set most of it up with the plants for you myself!” Reo scolded him before waving at you, “Make sure you don’t bore her to death with all your fish talk, Yagi. A girl needs a proper date you know!”

Yagi flushed pink as he shut the door to the shop, “I’ll keep it in mind. Bye, Reo!” He shut the door before he could be tackled by Hina again and sighed.

With a smile you linked your hands together again and tapped his chin, making bright blue eyes look down at you once more, “You won’t bore me with fish talk I promise, Yagi.” You teased as he turned his face away and chuckled awkwardly.

 This time he called a private taxi to get the two of you to travel in. Back to his home. The idea made your heart pound. He trusted you enough to allow for you to go to his home. His private home. The place he spent most of his time in outside of his jam-packed schedule. You wondered what it looked like only after being dazzled by the sleek, leather interior of the private hero taxi. Yagi looked out of place in his sweater and jeans against the fancy interior, more suited to the glamour of his hero costume and persona. Still, he made conversation until you reached his home. It was on the outskirts of the city, into the countryside and set back from many neighbours to avoid the press arriving on his door. He probably had a court order for most to remain away in exchange for regular interviews. You wondered how hard it was for him to have true privacy as the car came to a halt. Yagi clambered out first, paying the driver on his phone before offering you a hand to help you out as well. Placing your hand in his, you let him ease you forwards and out of the taxi before you gazed at the gated home before you.

 The place was modest in size, the heavy gates controlled remotely. The hero drew out his keys from his jean’s pocket and clicked a button on one of the keyrings. The gates beeped before trundling open slowly, revealing the home behind them. It was brick and western in design on the outside, but you wondered if the inside would have the screen doors many Japanese people still used.

Yagi smiled and gestured towards his house, “After you.” He ushered you inside before clicking the button again to close to gates, turning to observe them close before he caught up with you. The garden wasn’t large, yet it was looked after with obvious rookie hands. The lawn was mowed, and the flowerbeds recently, roughly weeded. Bright colours of flowers waved in the beds, and Yagi even had a section of bamboo screening a sitting area, shading it from the Spring sun. It wasn’t hot enough yet to sit in the shade, but you thought on how enjoyable it would be when the summer weather did come back around. You smiled at Yagi as he jogged to you by the door.

 “A ‘Plus Ultra’ doormat?” You asked with a laugh as you gently cleaned your feet off on the mat as Yagi took his door key in his hand.

“I get a lot of the merchandise for free in shipments.” He admitted before ushering you inside. The interior was pretty, but standard, decorated not too long ago, but without much of an idea about making it a home in mind. Cream walls and dark wood. Still, it was expensive, real wooden flooring. You admired the décor as you pulled off your shoes and put them by the rack.

“Here, I’ll hang your jacket.” Yagi eased the material off your shoulders, the fish still in his hand as he hung the jacket and pushed on his large slippers. He offered you the guest slippers before stepping up the step and into his house, gently holding the large bag of fish in both his hands, one hand under the bag and the other holding the top.

“Come on in. We need to float these quickly.” He smiled and gestured for you to follow. You followed closely as he walked you into the open plan living space. The fish tank was large, stationed in the back room with floating live plants waving in the current. Yagi smiled as you looked at the tank with a great smile.

“This is amazing, Yagi. Reo did an amazing job setting it up for you.” The hero sighed at you teasing before carefully positioning the bag in the top of the tank, held in place by the lid as you both glanced at the discoloured fish.

 “Will they be okay?” You asked gently as you pressed a finger to the tank, observing the discoloured little tetras. The other fish in the tank gently moved over to poke at the bag curiously before Yagi turned off the lights.

“They will be fine in a little while. I’ll let them into the tank in fifteen minutes and turn the lamps back on tomorrow. Stressed out, maybe, but fine by tomorrow.”  He stood by the tank for a moment, scuffing a slipper over the floor before coming up with an idea, “Well, would you like to stay for a while?” He asked gently.

“Really?”

Yagi choked on his own spit, “Do you not want to stay? If s-so that is fine! I can arrange you a private taxi home!”

“No no no!” You grabbed his fumbling fingers from his phone and shook your head, “I want to stay!” You clutched his hand and pushed his phone back into the front pocket of his sweater before pinching his chin, “What do you want to do?”

Blushing, Yagi gently wrapped his hand around your own before playing with your fingers, “How about we cook dinner together? I have stuff in.” He let your hands go before gesturing, with his thumb over his shoulder, towards his kitchen, the islands open towards the dining room. With a grin you took his hand and tugged him back towards the kitchen, “Lets do it!” You cheered as you rushed to the sink, leaving Yagi by the islands to think on what the both of you could make.

 As you washed your hands, Yagi hummed and tapped his chin, thinking on what you both could make, “What about Gyudon? Beef bowls aren’t too difficult.” He offered with a smile as he walked over to also wash his hands. You moved to the side as Yagi leaned over the tall counter to wash his hands as well.

“Beef bowls sound great!” You offered before walking back to the middle island and pulling Yagi’s chopping board free from its holder among the others. You pulled a knife out as Yagi dried his hands and moved to the large double door fridge. With a heave he plonked a great bundle of fatty beef steaks on the counter and smiled.

“Are we really going to eat all of that?!” You asked in disbelief as you pulled a knife free from the block.

Yagi laughed brightly, “I eat a lot, but you can take some home and I can keep some. Maybe you can take it to work tomorrow for lunch?” He suggested with a soft look in his blue eyes.

You blushed as you sharpened the knife, “Sure. Give me the beef, you big lug.”

“Sure thing, peaches.” He teased gently as he rolled up his sleeves and cut open the packaging.

 Later, Yagi released the fish into the tank with a coo as the beef sizzled in the pan.

 Rice never tasted so good. You pushed a piece of sticky, soy sauce covered beef into your mouth as Yagi laughed at your eating. His own portion was twice the size of your own, yet he ate a little more reservedly as you chowed down on the fruits of your labour.

“I had no idea you could cook so well, Yagi.” You grumbled after your mouthful of rice, onion and sticky sauce. The sake was starting to get to you. Yagi sipped his own cup of the alcohol as he reached the bottom of his bowl and sighed with satisfaction. It didn’t take you long to finish as well.

“Did you enjoy it?” He asked with a chuckle as he finished the last of his drink and took your plates in hand with a satisfied murmur.

“Mhmm.” Your eyelids fluttered as you downed the rest of your alcohol and yawned, “I’m exhausted though.” Smiling sleepily, you opened your eyes when Yagi came back into the room. The yawn was infectious, and Yagi yawned as he returned to the table.

“I think your sleepiness is contagious. How about some television, peach?” Yagi asked as he leaned next to your chair.

“Mhmm.” You whispered again, making grabby hands at him, “I can’t walk there.”

“Come on, peach.” Yagi uttered as he wrapped an arm around you back and hefted your legs with his other, easily pressing you against the strong muscles of his chest as he took you weight and walked you over to his large, cream couch.

 For a moment you shifted, expecting Yagi to plonk you on the large quirk couch in the corner. No such thing happened. With a heave, he held you tighter and sat himself in the corner before kicking his slippers off and pulling his body up on the entire length of the couch. It groaned under his mass of muscle and Yagi smiled down at you, the horns of hair flopping over to tickle your cheeks as he settled into the cushions with another large yawn. You settled against his chest and laughed softly as you crossed your arms and settled your chin against them, humming at the warm arms wrapped around your back, hands pressed to the bottom of your back.

“This is nice.” You cooed up at him before leaning up to kiss the end of his nose, smiling at the blush burning bright on the large hero’s cheeks. You closed your eyes and wrapped yourself tight around Yagi as he reached to turn on the television. An old black and white movie dramatically played quietly in the background.

“Are you comfortable, peach?” He asked, playing with your hair as his hand rubbed at the base of your back, not paying attention to the movie in the slightest. Nodding, you turned your head and rested against his chest, listening to his strong heart thump hard in his chest.

 “Are you nervous, big guy?” You asked with a sleepy smile, humming pleasantly as Yagi continued the soothing motions of his hands over your back. His fingers dipped under your shirt to rub gently, never moving upwards, but just sitting, continuing their calming motion as he yawned again.

“I was…But you’re not as scary as I thought.” He joked as you reached to play with the long strands of his hair, other hand pressed against his pec as you tugged and kissed him. Yagi’s eyes opened before he floundered, fingers clenching before he pushed back gently, eyes closing as he breathed out a long sigh from his nose. You pulled away with a smile as he coughed in embarrassment.

“Thank you for inviting me out Yagi.” You confessed with another soft kiss to his cheek before settling back against his chest.

“You’re welcome, peaches.” He returned your gesture by pulling you up his body, tucking your face close to his neck as he kissed the top of your head and hummed in comfort.

 Neither of you remembered falling asleep as the stars of the movie kissed beneath the Eiffel Tower.

[silverdaddyrdj]

Imagine: Veteran lawyer Hank Palmer wants to spoil you rotten but you’re unsure about the idea. But, he’s persistent and can put up a very good argument. 

Rating: Explicit/18+ (you shouldn’t be on this blog if you’re below 18, anyway)

Request your imagine headcanons and we will write a little something for you. And you get a bonus silver daddy picture to go with it. :)

"Anything you want, sweetheart. And I mean anything."

His voice is silky, playful, and he knows you're caught, like prey, in the carefully spun webs of his charm.

It started three weeks ago at the local café, where you stood waiting for your morning coffee. You checked and rechecked your watch, and willed for the line to move faster, but it didn't budge. If looks could kill, the cashier and the four people in front of you would've died on the spot.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you picked up your coffee and prepared to dash to your office across the street. If you timed it right, you could slide into the conference room just before the San Francisco office dialled in. You prepared to sprint, but, clearly, fate had other plans. Just as you were about to run out of the café, you bumped into a solid mass of designer suit and expensive cologne that reminded you of spotless sandy beaches and calm, clear ocean hundreds of miles away from the busy morning rush of Chicago. That's when you felt the warm dampness spreading down your front — the content of your cup was mostly on the ground, but it was also staining the beige top you wore, primed and ironed for the meeting.

"Fucking asshole," you said before you could stop yourself, and the hand holding out a silk napkin before you froze.

"I'm so sorry."

You looked up, ready to give the offender a piece of your mind for ruining your morning. But, you caught yourself in time and the words froze at the tip of your tongue. Later that night, you swore to your sister that you had seen the most beautiful pair of eyes ever known to man — and its owner, the apologetic culprit who spoilt the start of your day, wasn't all that bad. After all, he had graciously accepted your apology for the caffeine-deprived outburst and offered to pay for the dry cleaning bill.

That's how you agreed to meet him for a drink. You had gone to the pub intending to make up for your lack of manners and end the encounter on a friendly note because Chicago has an uncanny ability to appear very small sometimes. In your line of work — you’re a corporate lawyer at an investment bank — you deal with jocular finance bros all day, and almost everyone knows everyone else. And judging by the man's outward appearance — hand-cut suit, leather shoes, silver-dotted wavy hair that begged for your fingers — you had assumed he was someone important. But all of your strategic calculations went out the door that night, when, after three drinks, you tumbled into your queen-sized bed with him, your fingers in his hair, his lips on your thighs.

                                                              ***

You shift in bed, a solid mass pressing into your back. He traces a finger along the side of your ear, down the column of your neck, coming to rest on your bare chest. You're pleasantly sore and aching all over, and there are at least a handful of bruises on your skin — he's an attentive lover; last night, he broke down your defenses with methodical precision, tearing away at your sense of propriety as he left you squirming under the firm weight of his body, awash with such overwhelming pleasure that you didn't give a single fuck if your next-door neighbours heard you as you screamed, begged and urged him, your voice straining, to go harder, to push deeper, to take his pleasure from the dripping warmth between your legs. And, he obliged. 

"Well?" he nudges, resting his chin on your shoulder, his hands drawing circles around your navel. "You've gone quiet."

You try to pull away from him, but only half-heartedly, and he doesn't appear to be in a hurry to let you go. The two of you stay entangled in a heap of limbs and skin, in need of a shower and some concealer to cover up the secret you've chosen to keep from your friends.

It's complicated, you've argued, as you debated telling them the truth after he had left at the crack of dawn on your first night together. He's an influential man, you've got your own career ambitions; he's almost twice your age, never married, and avoids the topic of past dalliances. He isn't even interested in your history of failed or mismatched relationships, and yours lean more towards physical gratification. 

You've been meeting him whenever work lets you both escape for a brief time. It’s one of the upsides of having your office be less than a block from his. He takes you to lunch, you flirt with him over texts when you’re back at your desk, you both grab quick dinners from nearby restaurants. The nights end like clockwork: With him in your bed, climbing on top of you, or sometimes you’re straddling him, or he’s bending you over the chaise, pressing you into the wall, taking you against the floor-length window or by the door; he’s all over you, inside you, rocking your world, like clockwork. You enjoy the routine and he's adaptive enough that it doesn't feel monotonous. 

But you've still been wary about where this ends up — as much as the two of you connect physically, you've noticed his aloofness when he isn’t in bed trying to make love to you. Both of you roam in different social circles; he likes rock concerts, you prefer off-Broadway theatre; he plays golf on weekends, you're at Wrigley Field screaming your lungs out; he knows every Michelin star chef in town, you love Chinese takeaway from the shop three blocks from your apartment.

                                                             ***

You sigh. He's waiting for an answer. "I think it's a little weird," you say, finally, and it earns a soft-bellied chuckle from him. He looks cute when he laughs, it brings out the dimples on his cheeks. "Look," you say, gesturing around, "all this is great. The sex is definitely amazing but I can't accept gifts like this. It's too much."

"Can't a man spoil his lover?" he asks, and there's such an infuriating innocence in his tone, you can't bring yourself to call him out on the hint of cockiness in his statement.

Instead, you shake your head and this time, when he leans in for a kiss, you pull away and turn sideways so that you're both facing each other directly. You press a palm against his cheek and say, "As much as anyone in my place would be thrilled to have someone pamper them, I can't just spend your money so recklessly because you're telling me to." You hold up a hand when he looks like he's about to protest. "Let's do a trade-off. I'll let you buy me something nice like you want just this once if you let me take you out to a fancy dinner tomorrow like I’ve been wanting to. It’s only fair I get to spoil you rotten too once in a while."

He considers the proposal and smirks. "Deal."

It takes you another hour to get dressed, after both of you get carried away in the shower, where he has you pressed against the glass, your legs quivering as the pleasure drags on, setting your nerves on fire. He doesn’t stop moving when your body tenses up for the second time and it knocks the breath out of your body; you hold him like both of your lives depend on it. You clench down hard around him and he moans, his thrusts finally faltering and pushing him over the edge.  

                                                             ***

You end up spending the afternoon along the Magnificent Mile and you're impressed — for years, you've walked past the glass facades and fancy storefronts, admiring the catalogue of colourful designer bags, shoes and clothes on display, straight off the runway, sometimes, but you have always known any one of those items can do some serious damage to your bank balance. He seems to know every store attendant by name and they appear almost reverential in his presence. As the afternoon progresses, your resolve starts to crumble and every time you give in, he triumphantly, and with genuine delight, hands over his credit cards.

After your seventh purchase of the day, having spent at least a year's worth of rent in the city, you call it quits. He looks disappointed, like a kid who's just been told no, but at least he offers to put the bags in the car. That evening, you insist on taking him to the best pizzeria in the city. It's dirty, greasy, smelly and exactly why it's a fan-favourite. Watching him, the same man who wines and dines in the country's most elite fine-dining establishments, devour a large slice of pepperoni without a care in the world is perhaps, you think, the greatest present he could’ve ever given you. It makes you grin from ear to ear after as you walk back to the car, your hands entwined.

He looks pleased with himself. "I can't remember the last time I had this much fun," he says as you get in the car and you can see there's a tinge of regret in his eyes. Perhaps with time, you can uncover the mystery behind those brown orbs that look like they have seen the world a hundred times over — if you’re honest with yourself, you’ve fallen for them. Just a bit. You look forward to learning more about him and think, maybe, just maybe you might tell your friends the truth tomorrow. For now, you smirk and unbuckle your seatbelt, climbing over onto his lap, and the shocked look on his face is worth it. The indoor parking lot is pretty empty at this time of the evening. You think back on how he spent the entire week rocking your world, seven ways to Sunday, and, as you reach down for his zipper, you reckon it's time someone shakes up his world a little.

"If you thought that was fun, you're gonna love what I have in mind."

Fortunately for you, and maybe it's the added experience that comes with his age, he catches on quickly and the sudden smoulder in his eyes almost dares you to do your best. Never one to shrink from an honest challenge, you grin and crash your lips together.

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 41/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

From the minute she got into Rose’s car, Rey realized that unlike the time she spent with Ben, the next five hours were going to be exceptionally long. San Francisco seemed a world away. Rose stared straight ahead, cheeks still flushed and lips pursed in consternation. Rey pretend to be engrossed in her phone. Suddenly, Rose held out here hand, palm up, without even turning to look at her. Rey’s eyes widened, unsure. “The microchip. Hand it over.” Her companion ordered. “No way, I risked my life for this thing; I’m keeping it. I won’t give it to anyone but Leia Skywalker herself.” Rose gave her an exaggerated eye-roll. “Let’s just say I don’t exactly trust you,” she said through gritted teeth. “Given that I spent a long sleepless night worrying about what happened to you, only to find that you’ve been having a great time in Kylo Ren’s arms!” “Come on! As if you or Leia ever even bothered to warn me about the massive risk you were exposing me to. You can sulk all you want. I almost died, on three separate occasions! Is this what you people always do? Take some poor unsuspecting passerby and throw them into No Man’s Land?” “It was for an important cause,” Rose stammered. “You gave no idea what this trial means to us, and to Leia Skywalker...” “More than a stranger’s life, in any case,” Rey retorted dryly. “You sacrificed my life without hesitation. No wonder Ben ran away. Did his mother throw him to the wolves too, in the name of the ‘greater good’?” “I won’t let you talk about Leia like that!” Rose snapped, her bottom lip quivering with rage. “You have no idea the hardships she’s been through, none!” “I have a very good idea of what she did to her son, though. Pardon me if I can’t find enough compassion for the woman who considered Ben and I negligible losses!”

Rose took a deep breath before answering in a low voice : “He did this to you. He filled your head with lies without you realizing.” “Kylo Ren lied to me. Ben Solo would never. Ben was willing to sacrifice everything to make things right. No one can convince me otherwise.” “And there’s another one,” Rose sighed, visibly exasperated. “Oh really? He was the one who brought me here, did you ever see him hurt me? If he wanted to kill me, didn’t he have a thousand perfect opportunities to do that already? How do you explain that?” Rose hesitated, uncertain. “What if he...put a tracker in you bag! You’d lead him right to the Earth Soldiers HQ!” “Stop the car,” Rey demanded. “What?” “I said, stop the car. Do you want to search my belongings? Park the car and do it right now. If that’s what will get you to stop imaging whatever nonsense, do it now and save us the argument!”

The other woman turned red. “You know what?” She raised a brow. “Okay. Okay, we’re doing that!” True to her words, she flashed her signal and turned to park just off of the highway. It wasn’t a rest stop per se, but an emergency parking area just large enough for a vehicle. Rey wasn’t sure if this counted as a real emergency, but she didn’t want to push her luck today. After days of being hunted by FORCE she’d imagined finding some comfort in the company of an Earth Soldiers op, not another trial by fire.

Rey stomped angrily out of the parked car and shouldered her bag out of the trunk, dropping it on the ground. “Go ahead, take a look. I’ve got all day.”

Rose walked up, her head held high. She began to carefully unpack the bag. She searched every garment she withdrew, using her fingers to trace the fabric and feel every inch for abnormalities before moving on to the next one. When the bag was empty, she checked the every corner of the lining and the straps too. Finding nothing, she turned to Rey with her fists clenched at her sides. “Your handbag too.” “Very well.” Rey surrendered the other bag.

Rose’s eyes widened at the sight of the box of condoms, but she said nothing. The soon-empty handbag was subjected to the same thorough investigation, yielding the exact same results. Nothing. Rey repacked her things, her expression hovering somewhere between triumph and annoyance. But Rose was still determined. “Undress yourself.” “Not even in your dreams.” “Then I’ll search you myself.” Rey rolled her eyes. “You’re wasting your time.” “I’ll be the judge of that. I lost plenty of time coming all the way to Winnemucca to wait for you. I wonder if you made up the story about the fire to spend more time with him, that wouldn’t surprise me. Hands up!”

Rey begrudgingly raised her hands, hoping to be done once and for all. As soon as Rose realized there was nothing to see, she would leave her alone. So she let the agent search her hair, her t-shirt, her bra (cringe) and her jeans. Rose stuck her fingers in the denim pockets, where she would soon find the microchip that Rey had refused to hand over earlier. They would have it one way or another in the end. She paled however, when she fished yet another condom from the girl’s back pocket. Rey flashed her a cynical smile. Oh yeah, that was for exactly what she thought. Still curious, Tico? Apparently so, because the next thing Rose unearthed was the microchip. Rey maintained a neutral expression. Behold! The prodigal microchip. Could she leave now, and go find Ben...whenever he was? They could be together somewhere else, anywhere else, hopefully far away from these lunatics.

But Rose’s face fell as she looked at it. “It’s ruined!”

Rey held her breath. What did she mean, ruined? Rey had carefully inspected it earlier this morning with her own two eyes and it looked fine! Rose was a furious scarlet as she held the plastic square right under Rey’s nose. “It’s damaged, you broke it! You sabotaged the mission on purpose!” “What? No, it’s not,” Rey protested incredulously, her blood pressure spiking. “Show it to me!” Rose placed it in the palm of her hand and she bent to look at it up close. Shit. Rose was right, the chip was thoroughly warped. Rey looked up, mortified. How was it possible? Did Ben actually double-cross her? But how, when she had kept the thing on her person at all times throughout— Suddenly she understood. Her thoughts flashed back to that morning in Elko, where she had struggled to take her jeans off. She’d been in such a rush to undress, bouncing from one foot to the other, trampling her jeans between her feet and the craggy, rock-studded ground...completely forgetting that the microchip was still in her pocket. Rose had been right all along: her desire for Ben had lead her to betray Earth Soldiers in the end. Rey’s face was impossibly pale. She died a little on the inside as she passed the chip back to Rose, who was still waiting for an explanation. “Yes, it was me. I damaged the chip but...” “But?” “But I have no way to prove it was an accident.” It was almost exactly what Ben had said, when she’d caught him red handed. She could now empathize with the position he was in—the feeling of helplessness and fateful injustice. She would be condemned by Earth Soldiers, and hunted like an animal by FORCE. Rey had never felt more alone, yet again. And yet she knew that the only person who could ever understand her, could ever commiserate with her empty, aching heart, was Ben Solo—who was some hundreds of kilometers away. The two of them stood alone against the world, linked by destiny. And all hell was about to break loose. “There’s nothing for it,” Rose declared solemnly. “You’ve clearly chosen your side.” She punctuated the last word with a swing on the car door. “I would leave you here but it’s up to Leia to decide your fate. And mine.” Rey’s eyes widened. Hers too? “I was the one who sent you to her.” The other woman explained. “It’s my fault if we made a bad choice. I thought I saw loyalty and grit in you, but I was wrong.” What a drama queen. Rey could practically feel the thinly-veiled anger behind her dismay. The girl was full of herself. She wasn’t the unsuspecting mule on the frontlines and yet she wanted pity as she fancied herself on the chopping block. “Right, then.” Rey held her head up. “I’ll talk to Leia Skywalker myself. Maybe she’ll understand. Let’s go.”

The rest of the journey to San Francisco was long and silent. Rey gnawed on the sandwich Ben had bought her. He’d left her the water bottle too. BB8 whined uneasily in the back seat, clearly design the tension in the air. With nothing better to do, Rey contemplated the surrounding landscape. After Reno, the desert was slowly replaced by a coniferous forest that wound around a mountain road. They had reached California, the west end of the world. Tahoe boasted wide, tree-studded prairies, Sacramento was surrounded by acres upon acres of fertile farmland. Napa Valley was full of rolling green hills that slowly but surely led them to the sleek skyline of San Francisco. Rey perked up as they got on to the Oakland Bay Bridge, which offered them a breathtaking panoramic view of the city. And beyond that, the endless blue of the Pacific.

Rey had never been so far from home. Nor so alone. She took out her phone and typed a message to Ben:

Arrived in one piece at the end of the world. Wish I could share this moment with you. I’m lonelier than ever. Take care of yourself — Rey

He responded immediately.

You’re not alone. Be strong, we’ll see each other soon. I love you —Ben

“Who are you talking to, Kylo Ren?” Rose snorted derisively beside her. “Yes,” Rey answered, unmoved. “Do I need permission to text, now?” “If you’re talking to FORCE, the answer is yes. We’re at war here, in case you’ve forgotten. Your double-crossing has to end somewhere.”

Rey put away her phone, forcing herself to remain calm. “We're going to win this war not by fighting what we hate, but saving what we love, Rose.” “Still,” Rose shrugged, “we’re not going to disarm FORCE with tickle attacks.” “You’d be surprised,” Rey mused.

The car continued into the city, and Rey took a moment to admire the skyscrapers and winding streets. Despite her bad mood, she marveled at every new sight like a child. Cable cars, Victorian houses...if she ignored the feeling that she was about to walk into the gallows, she could just about enjoy the city’s charm. Rainbow-colored pride flags adorned many a building entrance, and on the wall of one particular church, Rey spied the words REFUGEES WELCOME written in large, bold letters. She would have loved to discover the city with Finn. In the meantime it was vital that she soak everything up to describe to him later. One day he would get better and see it with his own eyes. By the time the car finally stopped somewhere, Rey had lost track of their location. They were in an underground parking structure. Rose buzzed past a security checkpoint, and then another, before they finally parked in the darkest, lowest level. The whole place was mildly claustrophobic to Rey. “Are we there yet?” “No comment,” Rose replied.

They unloaded the bags and let BB8 out. Rose opened a metal side door to reveal a long corridor lined with yellow fluorescent panels. They passed many rooms as they reached the end of the corridor, where another door stood, practically identical to the last. Rose used her badge to open this one, which lead to...another parking garage. With a press of her thumb on a key fob, the vast space was illuminated with a flash of light from yet another car. “Another car, really?” Rey asked. Rose gave no answer. Another car, another interminable drive through the city. Rey yawned. Who did these overall-clad ecotypes think they were? Super heroes? Ridiculous. The next parking garage was better. Rose typed a code into the intercom. Rey didn’t recognize the voice on the other end, but she heard Rose whisper the password (“resistance”, she rolled her eyes). The door opened. Corridor, elevator, corridor. If this setup was meant to intimidate newcomers, it was certainly effective. The prepared speech that Rey had come up with during the long hours on the road seemed to wither away with every row of corridors and armored doors that they passed. Finally, Rose motioned to her to enter a room. It was a dark room littered from floor to ceiling with boxes upon boxes of documents. Little windows let in little daylight. A coffee machine bubbled away in the corner. And sitting on a large futon was a blonde woman Rey had never met. Her fingers tapped impatiently against a tablet. In the middle of it all sat Leia Skywalker herself, dressed in a long grey dress and a matching manteau. She was commanding despite her small frame, and Rey felt intimidated already, knowing she was almost a divinity to these people. Behind Leia sat a tall, thin woman with strangely elegant pinkish-purple hair. Rey stood, frozen for a moment and unsure of what to do. Was this her grand trial? Who were these people? Was Leia going to crucify her on the spot? It was Leia who crossed the few steps that separated them to hug Rey, holding the girl in her arms.

[dat-town]

CODE Z3RO | CODE 01

characters: BTS & Red Velvet genre: thriller, futuristic au warning: none summary: The twelve most ambitious and promising university students are welcomed in Choego, the world’s first entirely artificial intelligence-driven city, to compete for five job contracts that could change their life. But what if something goes wrong? What if they get trapped? What if the city suddenly turns against them? Can they find a way out before the countdown reaches zero? words: 4.4K tagged: @philosopher-of-fandoms​

➼ Chapter Index

Smart cities had been prickling people's mind ever since microchip was created and even before. A place with infrastructure so developed you could find everything you need in a 10 minute walk radius, with such top security you wouldn't have to be afraid of letting your child outside, with an air so clear thanks to the green places and lack of cars that you could see stars clearly at night. The city that itself produced all the energy it needed making it sustainable and environmentally friendly. A community that didn't need nor relied on physical workers anymore but had machines to do everything they did. A city like that used to be a dream. Now, after dozens and dozens of failed projects, that city was Choego.

And Jeon Jungkook was there to make a name for himself.

After getting checked by a high tech security system, not to mention the more than 6 months long application and selection process, he was finally here, inside of those enormous gates of the artificial city, in the heart of future, as the second youngest of the twelve candidates to be a part of the real-life simulation, to experience another world, the life as it was and what it could be.

"This is beautiful," a girl with her brown hair in a ponytail, tied by a red ribbon whispered on his right in awe.

Jungkook glanced at her a little disinterested but followed her gaze anyway to marvel at the city built of metal and glass, pretty parks in-between of the human-made constructs and a part of him agreed. The lack of annoying mass of people flooding the streets, the clean roads without litter or stinking smell, the mathematical architecture of this place sure impressed him too.

Even if Choego was more of a ghost town with the lack of people than the dream city presented on ads.

"Sure if you have the taste of a caveman," another girl chimed in sarcastically, flipping her long black hair behind her shoulder, grabbing on her Gucci bag like her life depended on it.

Jungkook scoffed, averting his attention back to the huge projectors welcoming them in the city of future. It was a short movie about the development and building of the town, the fight and struggle of the hundreds of researchers, scientifics, politicians and other powerful people who dreamt a place like this could exist as it was today. 

An awkward laugh cut through the murmurs of arrived students as their host descended on the granite stairs.

“Sorry for the advertisement. Our PR team insisted on showing you this,” said the tall, graceful female figure. She had a lab coat over her carmine dress, thick framed glasses on her snub nose and ginger hair so shiny she could have made an appearance in advertisements. She looked gorgeous, no wonder half the boys widened their eyes at the sight. However, the other half turned a blind eye to the welcoming committee, more immersed in the city itself.

Jungkook barely bat an eyelash at her as his mouth rather hang agapé on the enormous computer and server room the city had, a whole new district of wires and chips and machines that keep the city alive, it was basically the heart of its blood circulation. Amazing.

“My name is Han Raina and I’m the lead researcher here,” the woman bowed towards them slightly and being either polite or intimidated, most of the candidates did the same. “It’s my pleasure to greet you all.”

It sounded a bit forced, artificial but everybody anticipated her welcome speech because of the loads of classified information they basically came here in the blinds, not knowing anything about what to expect. Jungkook for one was clueless, and as he looked around, the other candidates had just as curious eyes like him. He was sure in one thing: he won’t go home without getting a job and the foundation of his stable future here.

“First of all, congratulation for passing our tests and being chosen. You are the greatest hope of the next generation and that’s exactly why you are here now. To see and be a part of the future. I would like to remind you that everything you do is recorded on hidden CCTV cameras all around the city because of security reasons and so that we can monitor your reactions.”

“I haven’t seen any cameras,” a pastel-haired boy interrupts as he checks the surroundings. A few follow his lead and he’s right, there are no cameras that can be seen around.

“They are too small to see. Probably micro or nano-sized,” Jungkook muttered and relished in the way every head turned towards him. As an electronic engineer student that was something he knew well.

“That’s right, Mr. Jeon, great thought,” Miss Raina smiles at him fondly and the screen that previously showcased the city’s presentation, was now divided into nine smaller frames, live recording of them from different angles. “But please, don’t pay any mind to them, act natural.”

For those who weren’t overdramatic, it was an easy task since they were aware that each public places had these kind of cameras recording people’s every move even in Seoul. Also, for safety reasons of future it was essential for the city to have eyes everywhere.

“I know all of you are very excited and curious since we left you in the dark but please understand that the simulation will only be realistic if you don’t know the details. However, it’s time to give you a little head-up on the city and about your week here. We can sit down and make ourselves comfortable in our meeting room. Follow me,” she beckoned a finger, inviting them closer and the dozen of university students followed her in unison.

“Sorry,” the earlier, ponytail girl apologized when she bumped into Jungkook on accident. She had pure innocence and childlike wonders in her eyes. Kim Yerim, the boy glanced at the name card hanging in her neck and he made a mental note about this girl not being a real competition.

“Let’s go, Yeri,” an older guy, Kim Seokjin based on his card, nudged her to move forward and there was both familiarity and fondness in his voice as he guided the girl by a hand on the small of her back. What a coincidence for siblings to make it to the top 12. Smartness must run in family or maybe the researchers wanted to add this as a factor to the simulation, who knows?

The group walked along a wall with a huge 3D map of the city into a room on the second floor which had a great view of the park in front of the building. They were merely 2 hours from Seoul yet it felt like another world, fancy, clean, ultramodern and green. Even the chairs in the room were done with utmost care to fit all the health requirements and ergonomic needs.

As soon as everybody was seated, the woman pulled out a high pack of documents and shared one pile of paper with each of them.

“First, we will need you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You can’t tell anybody what you saw or experienced here. It’s a business know-how we can’t risk. If it’s done we can finally talk freely,” she explained as nobody complained. When they agreed to help this project, it was an evident, understandable condition.

Quickly everybody scribbled their names onto the paper but only a few of them read the contract throughout about the consequences of violating the confidentiality. Jungkook was one of those people.

When all of them handed the papers back to Miss Raina, she clapped happily.

“Okay, so now let’s talk about the city. You probably know a lot about its history, or if you don’t, you can always take our leaflets, so now let’s talk about its design,” she pointed at the map appearing on digital screen. As she was talking about certain parts of it, the map constantly changed, zoomed in or out. “We are now here, in the main research building of the town. Next to us is the laboratory, there’s the hospital, the public offices on the other side of the road. You can see the parks as the green blocks yourself too. Your dorms are located in the residential area, on the western part of the city. So yes, you will be able to see the sea but we do not recommend visiting it. For security reasons we closed off the ports.”

“And the bridge too,” a messy, brown haired guy mumbled as he stared at their cheerful host with cold suspicion. No matter how quiet he was, with that firmness of his voice nobody could not hear what he said and the hidden implication behind it.

Han Raina raised one of her prettily arched brows. 

“Sorry but what do you mean by that?”

For a minute, it seemed like the guy was about to leave it with a grimace and careless shrug but then he pointed at the eastern side of the map where the Bridge of Silence, as they called it, connected the artificial island with the mainland.

“This city is totally closed and has only one way in and out with a gate controlled by electronics. Do you have any emergency plans for like terror attacks, or if they hack the gate?” he asked edging on the border of being necessarily polite and an arrogantly know-it-all. However, it was undebatable that the question he stated was an essential element of the security and safety of Choego. 

“That’s highly unlikely to happen, Mr. Min but of course, “ the researcher lady nodded and sat down with her elbows resting on the table. She acted like the patient elementary school teacher educating the kids about the basic laws of physics. “Imagine this city as a huge computer. What happens when a computer is attacked?”

“The firewall kicks in,” the apparently tech-educated guy replied without hesitance and earned a satisfied smile from their host. A pang of envy poisoned Jungkook’s veins as he watched their interactions. Wasn’t it unfair for one of them to have a head start like this?

“Correct, it’s the same here too. Though, since our security is so high level any computer control panel has three-factor authentication including a biology one too,” Miss Raina explained and as Jungkook looked around, he wasn't sure everybody understood the concept of three-level protection. That it needed three separated traits to open a door, one knowledge-based like a password, one possession-based like an ID card and one biology-based like a retina scan. Because of the latter it was the most difficult kind of security system to trick without making a scene and the researcher echoed his thoughts:

“It’s impossible to hack our system from the outside. If anybody tries that, they have to be here and then we can pull a Louvre move on them. Does anyone know what happens if the security system detects a theft in the most famous museum of Paris?”

Ah, what is this? A quiz night? Jungkook almost grunted because he had no idea but he was actually surprised that for a long minute, nobody spoke up.

“It will close its doors, seal the endangered zone with bars until the police arrives,” the tall, wide-shouldered guy from earlier, Seokjin said much to the delight of the lady.

“Yes, so if anything like that happens, we plan to trap the intruders inside. The sectors would be switched off the electrical grid one by one until the attacker has no choice but to wait for the authorities right here,” she concluded and turned back to the suspicious guy. “And we have evacuation plans, too. Don’t worry.”

Jungkook wanted to laugh. If they were worried about something that definitely wasn’t terrorist attacks or a tsunami flooding the city. What were the chances of these events to happen right now while they were being evaluated? See? He was more stressed of the possibility of leaving without a contract in his hands, head down in shame.

“Okay, so since we talked about your dorm. Here are your ID cards,” Miss Raina flicked her fingers and at cue, the staff started handing out metal bracelets for each of them. “You can take off the visitor cards you got at the gate earlier since you are going to use these bracelets for identification from now on.”

The accessory’s design was simple, gender-neutral, easy to clamp on and light on the wrist.

“This functions as the prototype of the chips that will be injected into our future residents. It not only stores all the data about you but also monitors your health in case you were in an endangered situation. It also keeps track of your GPS coordinates to locate you and it holds all your authorization to make sure which sectors and offices you can and can’t go in. Your authorization level right now is a common researcher’s so you access most of our buildings including the labors. Once you will work here, of course, it will depend on your job position.”

“Does it have a camera in it, too?” a guy in baseball cap chimed in certainly not impressed by the idea of always being followed around. Not like phones didn’t have the same functions already and millions of people used those voluntarily.

The woman was quick to shake her head, seemingly absolutely horrified at the presumption.

“Of course not, we respect personal space.”

“But you will know when we go to pee,” said the guy as he threw in his visitor card that said Jung Hoseok to the middle of the table and put on the bracelet anyway. Even if this test took the evaluation process a bit too seriously with analyzing all their reactions, none of them wanted to leave. No matter how much doubt or fear they felt, they were too curious or too ambitious.

“What’s more, based on our health factors they will know when we need to go before we do,” a red-haired girl chirped and Jungkook frowned at the bracelet clipsed on his wrist.

“Yes, Miss Son is right, it’s an advanced tool, but keep in mind, it’s for your own good. It’s the future,” the researcher lady reminded them. The ‘future’ seemed to be their magic word solving every problem and being the ultimate answer.

“All in all, you need to have the bracelets on you all the time since it’s the key for your dorm rooms, too. Boys and girls will be separated, of course, but we provide you a common area to socialize where dinner and breakfast will also be served everyday. Based on your daily activities you will have lunch in either the offices’ or labor’s canteen,” she once again points at the map that highlighted the mentioned parts and flashed tomorrow’s menu on the board. Reading about Korean barbeque and pasta salads with salmon made Jungkook hungry as it was almost dinnertime and he hadn’t eaten since morning.

“Ahh it’s excited, isn’t it?” Miss Raina clapped enthusiastic again but nobody joined her. A few forced an awkward smile and some didn’t even care. They didn’t come here to have these chitchats and the middle-aged woman was most likely aware too as she added: “Don’t forget, even though we evaluate you individually, you have to work together in teams to succeed the simulation. Any questions?”

A few candidate exchanged uncertain glances but then a stern looking guy in dress shirt asked the question that had been on all of their mind: “What is the simulation about exactly?”

With his Rolex watch and elegant attire, it was obvious he came from a rich household. The son of Parks, Jungkook had heard about him. It was all in the news, that the child of the right-hand of Seoul's mayor will be a part of this test, one of those who can experience the dream city first hand. Some even thought he came here to spy for his father.

It was an interesting thought. Why would the investors of Choego let a potential rival's son on their land willingly? Or people are just being nosy and making fuss about nothing?

“I can’t tell you, sorry," Miss Raina shook her head and provided a diplomatic answer about her reasons. "It would change your natural reactions and the results of our research would be false.”

It actually made sense but Jungkook still couldn't make anything out about this project. He applied for the promise of bright future but they all basically dove into the unknown as they came here. But he wasn't the only one worrying about being left in the dark.

“And when will we be notified about our daily activities?” An older girl with rounded glasses asked as she was tapping on the glass table rhythmically but the awaited answer was just as vague as the earlier one.

“You will find your schedule for the week in your dorms. If you don’t have more questions, my colleagues will accompany you to there. Rest well, tomorrow will be a long day,” the researcher lady bid her goodbye with a well-practiced smile and two other scientists showed them the way to their temporary residences.

“You were brought here in an environmentally friendly bus but since the city is designed for pedestrians and not for cars you'll have to walk convenient distances like this,” they explained as they headed outside.

Their guides kept talking about the advanced technologies used in certain parts of the cities, the borders of the zones, the buildings' functions but Jungkook's mind wandered off as he stared ahead at the paradise made of glass, metal and money. He would live here one day, he decided and he wouldn't let anybody stop him now that he was finally here.

Kim Yerim had long learnt that in every group of people there was that one who knew the most nasty secrets of everybody and couldn’t shut up. She didn’t have to wait long to realize that among the twelve of them, Park Sooyoung was the gossip queen. No wonder since her whole family came from the tabloids.

“I really don’t get what half of these people even do here. It was in the requirement to have a major that can contribute to the development of the city and yet, here we have a psychologist, a sociologist and even a journalist?” she scoffed pointing at Joohyun, Hoseok and Yerim one by one. She didn’t even try to be discreet about her opinion as she was talking to noone in particular. She just wanted to show off but maybe it wasn’t the best crowd to do so, to outstand from. The mentioned boy didn’t seem to care that he was titled useless while the group’s eldest, Joohyun turned tomato red. It must have been quite offensive to her to be told off by a third-year while she was working on her doctorate.

And Yerim, she quickly turned her gaze away and her brother patted the back of her hand.

“Don’t even listen to her, okay?” Seokjin whispered into her ear and shot a sharp look at the girl in brand designed clothes. He was trying hard not to snap. He might have been a pretty calm person but for his sister, he would have done anything, to any extent.

It definitely wasn’t the hosts’ greatest idea to lock them into one place competing to get those limited job offers while they had to cooperate. They were both rivals and team members. What kind of absurd paradox it was? So when after having their nutritional dinner at their dorm place, they were advised to get to know each other a bit by introducing themselves or at least their name, age and major, it was almost obvious it wouldn’t end well.

“And that shabby kid?” Sooyoung carried on unbothered, pointing her finger at the youngest engineer of the group, Jungkook, if Yerim remembered correctly. “Believe me, he is the charity case here. This dorm is a real glow up from his place. The city creators must have taken pity on him”

“Oh as if you are any better. What the hell are you doing here, little vacation girl?” Jimin snorted and brought his arms onto the table, locking his fingers and looking straight at the Gangnam girl over his hands. From the look of her eyes, it was obvious the two of them had some history together or at least they knew each other, which wasn’t surprising as both of them lived the high life of rich kids. “You are only here because your daddy slipped a big pile of money to the investors.”

“Excuse me,” Sooyoung’s breath hitched and she looked downright offended by the accusation. “Every city needs tourists and that’s why I’m here. It’s just as important as the bullshit you do.”

That said bullshit was actually genetics, an innovative and really fascinating field of engineering. Yerim was actually quite impressed that even genetics were presented by the candidates.

“What did you just say? At least my field makes our lives better and healthier, it makes progress while you are just money-hungry...” the politician’s son kept raising his voice until Jin interrupted him:

“Enough,” he stopped the heated dispute with a single word before it could get even worse. “Haven’t you heard? We will need to work together. Not against each other.”

Maybe it was his Crisis, Disaster and Risk Management masters classes that taught him how to approach these problems but unfortunately, not everybody was so cooperating.

“As if,” somebody mumbled from the back, his lilac hair falling onto his forehead. He looked like he wanted no part in this desperate attempt at staying civilized as he stood up and left without any further goodbye. It stirred up the calming atmosphere again and Yerim couldn’t help but wonder if it was on purpose. Marketing was the keypoint of manipulation after all. That’s why she didn’t blame Sooyoung entirely for stereotyping all of them based on their majors and the information her father provided.

“Watch if I ever team up with these,” Gucci girl’s mouth pulled a grimace and as dramatic as she could be, she walked out the opposite direction Taehyung did, towards the girls’ dorm.

Yerim sighed. It was only their first day here and yet tension was already cuttable in the air. And the couple’s fight didn’t help either…

“Stop being so clingy, Joon,” the red-haired med student snapped at her boyfriend in disbelief. “We are not on a vacation, for god’s sake, let’s be professionals about this.”

“Huh? Now you’re saying we can’t be boyfriend and girlfriend here or what?” The pastel blonde hair guy blinked in confusion and - in Yerim’s opinion - understandable hurt written clearly on his face.

“It’s nothing personal, honey, but it’s basically a very unique job interview and you don’t befriend your rivals,” she said and trotted after Sooyoung.

A heavy sigh left Namjoon’s mouth and Hoseok who sit on his other side patted his back in empathy.

“My girlfriend also applied,” he told the exasperated engineer. “But when I got my letter, she said she was happy she didn’t got in because it would tear us apart. For your sake I hope she was wrong.”

She probably wasn’t, they all knew but nobody said anything and slowly they went on their way dispersing in the building.

Yerim got a good night hug from his brother and waved him off as she scribbled down some notes in her diary about today. Nobody was bothered by her little bit childish antics, nobody cared. The dining room was empty - save from one boy on his phone - when she finished and got up to shower and get ready for tomorrow.

Her assigned roommate was a very quiet girl called Seulgi who learnt some quite fancy named major - Civil, Environmental and Architectural Engineering as Yerim recalled - and she seemed pretty kind so far. They exchanged a few words before Yerim could actually use the bathroom. By the time she let her sore muscles loose under the hot water and brushed her teeth in front of the foggy mirror, Seulgi was fast asleep. With her nerves, the younger girl wasn’t so lucky, she struggled to close her eyes and let dreamland take her. Even the smallest noises of the ventilating system kept her awake.

After half an hour of tossing and turning in bed, she decided to take a world and have a glass of water so as quietly as she could she left their room. When the door closed behind her the corridor’s lamps automatically turned on much to her relief. She followed the directions she remembered from earlier, occasionally opening doors with her high-tech ID bracelet. Luckily she didn’t take it off for sleeping or else she would have had to go back for it. To her own surprise, she was able to locate and found the common room with kitchen without getting lost.

She filled a glass full of refreshing cold water and gulped it down as quickly as a man on verge of dying. Just as a relieved sigh bubbled up from her throat, she heard it… the clock ticking and hitting another hour. Then a flash of red painted the whole room colourful and Yerim almost dropped the glass as she turned on her heels. Putting it down onto the counter, she took careful steps towards the floor to ceiling glass windows. Her palm fit onto the cold surface nicely as she watched the moon’s reflection on dozens of glass buildings with wide eyes. The red light came from the building vis-á-vis burning carmine and angry. Yerim’s heart skipped a beat when suddenly she heard the unmistakable sounds of sirens.

“Ah I knew you were going to be here. Can’t sleep?” a familiar voice questioned in an amused tone and in her panicked state, the girl turned towards his brother, face breaking into a confused and terrified expression just like hers when they were children and she found a spider in their room.

“I think there’s something very very wrong, Jin,” she whispered in a trembling voice.

The faint distant sound of alarms and the warning red light suddenly stopped and then, all the lights darkened in the sector next to them. Like somebody turned the light switch off right at two o’clock and the border between the zones sparkled with electricity.

“No, it’s okay,” the elder said hurriedly pulling his sister away from the window. Just in time so she couldn’t see that lost bird flying right into the invisible wall and falling down as if it was struck by lightning. “I guess the simulation just started...”

[fic-al]

People Call Me Trixie

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE UNEXPLODED TRIFLE

As the number 55 made its return journey back to central London. Trixie was pleased she had visited her friend. Sister Bernadette had looked frail. Trixie was certain she had lost weight. Although difficult to tell in her more fitted dressing gown, rather than her usual habit, but her face did look thinner.

She had found her in good spirits, if not a little tired and a bit preoccupied, which was to be expected. She seemed particularly thrilled with the dead butterfly. Trixie, not for the first time, heard Marianne's laughter ringing in her ears. She knew exactly what Marianne would have said.

She had tried to talk to Dr Turner, she really had. Tried to take more of an interest in Timothy. She had asked them to join them in the dining room on more than one occasion. He always made some excuse, she had taken to making up a little bag of food for him to take home for the pair of them. Quite often he would leave before she had finished preparing it. Sister Bernadette always seemed to know what to say and Trixie felt awkward and out of place. A bit like a spare set of forceps, left behind in the autoclave.

By Christmas 1958, Trixie realized she had been more than a spare set of forceps. She felt like she had been offered a front row seat at Billy Smart’s Circus and had foolishly been sat facing the wrong way throughout the entire performance.

It was Christmas Eve, and she knew she wasn't the only Nonnatun, whose wedding invitation had seemingly got lost in the post. Unless of course they had arrived at Nonnatus House following its inhabitants and half of Poplar, being evacuated due to a newly discovered unexploded bomb. When she saw the bride-to-be coming out of the nuns makeshift chapel in the Rescue Centre. She could hardly believe her eyes. Trixie had seen her former colleague so little since she had last visited her in St Anne's and was still a little startled at seeing her out of the habit.

"Si..Shelagh! I didn't expect to see you here, on the day of your wedding!"

Trixie didn't know if she believed in fate, but she would put this meeting down to divine providence and ask her burning question, anyway. Even though she had been told to wait until after Christmas.

"We have a patient, Jenny and I, here in the Rescue Centre. Mrs Bridges, her husband is suffering from battle fatigue and I wondered if I could talk to Dr Turner. Obviously not today, I mean, I know this isn't a good time..."

Trixie reeled back on her heels at the sight of the anger in the former nun's eyes.

"No, this is not a good time, Nurse Franklin!" She snapped, "I am sure I don't know what you are talking about! Dr Turner is sat by his son's bedside and has been since yesterday evening." Shelagh seemed to gasp for air but continued,

"Timothy has polio and has been placed in an Iron Lung. I am very sorry to hear about your Mr...I can't imagine why you think Patrick would be more suited to deal with this, rather than the designated locum. If you feel it is an emergency, I suggest you refer to him, Nurse!"

Shelagh had finished talking through frustration and tears. Trixie could only watch her walk away. She had been on call all night, dashing between her patients, the ones who had been fortunate enough to remain in their own homes, then checking on Alan and Yvonne Bridges. She hadn't even been aware Shelagh had spent the night at the Leopold Institute or why?

Trixie found a quiet spot on the stairs and hugged her knees together. She knew it wasn't her fault, but she had only added to Shelagh's distress. She had been so wrapped up in her own efforts to help Alan; she hadn't questioned why Shelagh was at the Rescue Centre on the morning of her wedding. Or stopped to think before hastily asking for what she wanted.

Her thoughts soon went beyond Shelagh to Timothy and Patrick. Just over two years ago she had sat at the Nonnatus dining table and heard the worst news imaginable. She couldn't comprehend that today she had just been told similar news concerning the same family.

That old familiar taste of bile climbed up Trixie's throat, as the shouts and the laugher from the main hall started to echo and move further and further away. All Trixie could hear was the rhythmical ticking of the unexploded bomb a few streets away, she could hear it, keeping time. It was getting louder and louder.

The bomb did go off, but Trixie, everyone, and everything else survived. This time.

Yvonne Bridges was able to give birth in her own home and unbeknown to the sisters with her childhood sweetheart present.

Alan offered the emotionally tender Trixie a sweet sherry, after Jenny had left to meet Alec. She followed him into the kitchen.

"I think I will have one myself, just to wet the baby's head."

Trixie noticed him pull out a bottle of Famous Grouse scotch whisky.

"Yvonne's old man, got me onto this, never used to touch anything stronger than a pint a' mild, but he always fetches me one when he comes to visit." Alan poured a hefty measure into a tumbler, "A little nip, now and again Nurse, well it sometimes calms, what do you call them.. the horrors?"

Alan reached for a sherry glass for the midwife.

"Actually Alan, I wouldn't mind a nip myself. It's awfully cold in that beastly working men's club and if Jenny's boyfriend is right about Nonnatus, we may be there for a few more nights."

"Have a drop of the low flying bird, as my father-in-law always calls it." Alan poured her a rather large dram equal to his own. "You've earned it, you've really helped me Nurse, let me do something for you."

Trixie knew that she was now last on call and was rather glad of it after leaving the Bridges, once ensuring the baby's head was more than sufficiently wet. She was finding her bike didn't quite go in the direction she wanted.

She stopped at the little tobacconist off Chrisp Street, that never seemed to close. The proprietor had stocked Marianne's colour coordinated accessories and when Marianne finally gave up smoking forever; he switched his stock to Nurse Franklin's favoured all black selection.

As soon as he heard the bell chime, as she walked through the door, he was there. She wondered if he ever slept? He immediately took the Sobranie Black Russian from beneath the counter.

"What tickles your fancy today, Nurse? Something a bit special, it is Christmas after all! How's about a nice bottle of advocaat, I have Warninks. Makes a lovely snowball with a drop of Lowcocks lemonade. How are you off for maraschino cherries, sweetheart?"

Trixie realized she hadn't actually spoken since she stepped into the establishment. The eternally cheery shopkeeper always seemed to know what she wanted.

She had intended to buy a small bottle of scotch and try to hide it from the nuns, but maybe the garish bright yellow liquid combined with a bit of child's pop, wouldn't seem so much of a temptation to the sisters. It was Christmas Eve after all and it might be something even Cynthia might enjoy. She had a feeling Sister Monica Joan might not be able to resist.

As she was about to pay, she noticed something catch her eye, reflected by the glass of the countertop.

Trixie finally found her voice, "A bag of those too, please."

The lights were on at Kenilworth Row. Dr Turner's car was parked in its regular spot. Surely that was a good sign?

Trixie went up to the flat door where she had boldly let herself in maybe a hundred times before, but not recently, not these days. She tripped up the steps and stood on something soft.

"Damn and blast!" she cried as she removed, first her foot, then her work shoe, from a sherry trifle. It had been left on the Turner doorstep by some thoughtful patient . Trixie tried to repair the damaged greaseproof paper covering it, hoping no-one would notice.

She took a large handkerchief from the bottom of her nurse's bag, fumbling past the advocaat bottle. She tried to clean from her shoe, the cream, jelly, and hundreds and thousands. For the first time in her life, Trixie realized the popular pudding decoration was so aptly named. The tiny sugar sprinkles were in, her shoe, her stocking, between her toes and absolutely everywhere, hundreds and thousands of them.

Trixie sat on the step for a few minutes, took a deep breath of Poplar night air, nearly making herself dizzy. Wiped her leaking eyes, on the trifle and street muck, stained hankie and realized how ridiculous she must look. If Marianne came to the door now, she would...

Trixie put the small net bag with the shiny glass marbles through Dr Turner’s letterbox and slowly made her way to her temporary home, giving herself enough time to clear her head.

[cheekyharold]

My Prince, Chapter Four

Read previous chapters here!

The majority of the ride was spent in silence as I flipped through some of the photos I’d taken of the palace. It felt too awkward to photograph him in this silent car.

Okay, so I wasn’t completely alone with Alfred – there were two security men inside the car as well. Probably wouldn’t be a good idea to have the next heir to the British throne inside a car alone with a stranger. I’m assuming they did some sort of background check on me though, right?

“Caroline, right?” Prince Alfred said fifteen minutes into the ride. His voice startled me, even though it was deep and soft. The voice of a future king; the Prince of Wales.

“Carolina, your royal highness,” I corrected.

“I suspect we’re going to see a lot of each other, you and I,” he said. His voice hinted at a smile, but his lips never curved.

“Yes, your royal highness.”

Prince Alfred rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to say it every time.”

I felt my cheeks flare a gross shade of red. “I’m sorry…” I stopped myself in time before blurting out yet another your royal highness.

“My father is the one who loves pomp and circumstance, all the titles and such. If it’s just you and I, you can call me Alfred.” He leaned forward, an allusion of a smile beginning to surface. “If anyone else is around, then call me your royal highness or prince or something.”

I smiled and nodded curtly. “Yes… Alfred.”

“Now take some pictures of me. Make sure they look damn good.”

I held my camera up to my eye and snapped a few pictures of him smiling, lips closed. I continued to take more candid ones as well, where he looked down at his feet, fixed his bowtie, or adjusted his suit jacket. My favorite, I think, was one where he was looking out the window, giving a half-curved smile to whatever was outside. His gelled hair was perfectly in place, his jawline shadow cut perfectly across his neck, and his stubble creating a small shadow on his cheeks. I took a mental note that the photo would look great in black and white.

“Can I see?” he asked.

I gave him the camera and he flipped through all my photos, nodding slightly at each one.

“You’re good,” he said, handing it back.

“Thank you.”

At the fashion show, I was corralled with Jude and all the other official photographers at the event. Prince Alfred went off somewhere else to greet people.

“How was it?” Jude asked as he jogged up to me.

I still couldn’t get over his absolute beauty. “It was… weird.”

“Weird?”

“I mean… weird, like, it was eerie quiet. It was too awkward to take photos at first. And that was the first time I’d met him and I didn’t want to start it all off by taking hundreds of pictures without saying anything to him but I couldn’t speak to him unless he first spoke to me–”

“Whoa, whoa, okay,” Jude said, placing a hand on my arm. My skin went hot where he touched. “They may be royalty, but they’re just like you or me. They just happen to have incredibly, filthy rich parents. Like the Paris Hilton.”

The event organizers put all us photographers into one spot, told us where we were and were not allowed to be to photograph models and celebrities, and then let us free. I followed Jude, not knowing what else to do since I’d never done any photography like this before.

I swapped out the current lens for one that was better for close-up shots and began photographing Prince Alfred once he sat in his seat. The models began walking out and I noticed they were all women and women’s fashion. I captured Prince Alfred’s expressions for each new model that walked out, loving how his green eyes were sparkling in the lighting within the building. Prince Harry beside him kept his expressions stoic so I couldn’t tell whether he enjoyed the show or even cared. On the opposite side of Prince Alfred sat King Henry and beside him, Victoria.

I kept seeing Prince Alfred glance into the audience, seemingly right at me. I felt hot in my dress whenever he did. Not because I thought he was beautiful – I mean, he was – but because I hated when people looked at me while I photographed. I believed they were silently judging my skills or me.

But after the fifth time of Alfred looking over at me, I noticed he was instead looking next to me, at Jude. Odd, I thought, but I kept shooting regardless. I had to stop a few times to admire the fashion myself – all of these were formal dresses that flowed with each step of the model. The designs were breathtaking, though I knew I would never be able to afford anything like them, even with this handsome salary.

For all the fuss that surrounded this fashion show, it lasted only twenty minutes and seemed to be over just as quickly as it had begun.

“Right, shall we get a drink?” Jude asked after the designer came out, took a bow while accepting applause, and disappeared behind the stage.

“Shouldn’t we keep taking pictures?” I asked, seeing Alfred and his family stand from their seats and begin mingling.

“You’ll have your hundreds of chances to photograph him talking to boring people in your job. Believe me, each one will be like the last and the press secretary will use none of them. Come.”

He looped his hand through my arm and guided me back to where all the photographers had gathered at the beginning of the show. Against the wall, there was a bar that was already beginning to fill with people. Jude shoved his way through, ordered two champagnes, and handed me a flute.

“I-I don’t have–” I began, about to tell him I didn’t have any cash on me.

“It’s an open bar,” he told me.

I took in all the people, each dressed fancier than the next. Everyone looked as though this were an Oscar’s after-party rather than a fashion show at noon. There were long gowns and diamond bracelets and fancy, blown-out hairstyles. I really was under-dressed. I only mentally thanked myself that I shaved.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. You alright?” Jude said. I noticed he had an extra glass of champagne with him.

I nodded even though I felt like a fish out of water. Jude walked into the crowd and I took an eager sip of my champagne, letting the fizzy bubbles dance on my tongue. I finished the glass shortly after and went to the bar again. When I was finally able to order, I ordered two more glasses. The drinks were free, after all, and I needed to loosen up.

After I finished my second glass, I heard a voice beside me say, “You a photographer?”

He was a tall man, wearing an impeccable navy blue suit. He was young, too; maybe only a couple years older than me. I wondered what he did for a living or who he was related to to be here.

“How did you know?” I asked, feeling my face getting warmer from the alcohol. “Does the camera and bag give it away?”

He smiled, showing perfect teeth, and let out a short, deep laugh. “You’re right, that was a stupid question. I just saw you standing here and thought you looked too beautiful to be alone.”

I tried to stop myself from smiling but couldn’t. He wasn’t unattractive, but he sure wasn’t Jude.

“Oh, well, thanks,” I said, unsure what to say. God, why was I so awkward? This is why you’re single, Carolina!

“I’m Pierce,” he said, extending a hand.

“Like Brosnan?”

He smiled again. “Sure.”

I shook his hand. “Carolina.”

“Like the state?”

I laughed. “Sure,” I said, mimicking the earlier statement.

“My uncle is Volier, the designer,” Pierce said, glancing out at the room.

“Fuck off,” I blurted out and immediately regretted it. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean that. I mean… wow, that’s awesome.” I quickly took a big gulp of my third champagne.

Pierce must have found it endearing because he just laughed. “Listen, want to go somewhere to talk? It’s just kind of noisy out here.”

I looked at the crowd, hoping to see Jude galloping back to me but he was still somewhere lost in the crowd. “Um, sure.”

Pierce extended his hand again and after I took it, he led me through the crowds, behind the curtain next to the stage. Before I knew it, hangers and dresses surrounded us. I thought the models would be back here, but they must have been mingling out in the crowd or somewhere else. The room was completely empty.

“Wow,” I breathed, taking in all the dresses on the hangers. Moments ago, they were being worn down a runway. I took one that was lavender-colored in my hands and felt the silk skirts of it. It was exquisite.

“Do you take all the girls back here?” I asked slyly, turning back around. I was shocked to see Pierce standing right there, nearly touching me.

“Only some,” he said quickly, looking down at me.

He was too close for comfort, so I sidestepped him and pretended to look at a different dress behind him, one closer to the door. I could hear all the conversations going on outside, but it was a dull roar. The curtains were so thick I couldn’t see beyond them and the conversations were muted, almost as if it were a door instead of a thick sheet of fabric.

“It must be really cool to, um, have Volier as your uncle,” I fumbled for words, trying to think of a way to let him down easy and leave this awkward encounter. I continued to drink the glass of champagne, unsure of what to do with my hands. The dresses looked too beautiful and expensive to touch.

I saw Pierce shrug from the corner of my eye. He was stepping closer again. “I enjoy the perks.”

“Like?”

Pierce took a deep breath in. “The parties. The drinks. The girls.” He reached out and brushed a loose section of hair out of my face. I shivered away from his touch, feeling very much like I wanted to be anywhere but there with him. His cologne was too strong and it was giving me a headache.

“I should be getting back,” I muttered, turning to him. “I have work to do.” I finished my glass. My head was beginning to feel fuzzy and I began regretting drinking so much. I tried stepping back but fumbled. Pierce caught my hand and held it tightly. So tightly, I winced.

“So soon? Don’t you think it would be cool to get a one-on-one interview with the nephew of Volier?” Pierce pouted. He didn’t let go of my hand.

“I’m not a journalist,” I replied.

“Come on, just a few more minutes. I don’t bite.” He grabbed the back of my head and began leaning down.

I swatted his hand away and moved to the side, away from his advance.

“Look, I don’t know what you think is going to happen but–”

“You’d be lucky to have a guy like me,” Pierce said, suddenly deepening his voice and becoming defensive. I realized how much taller and bigger he was than me, and my heart began to race.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, Pierce.”

I began stepping away, back towards the entrance of the curtain again but he grabbed my wrist tightly. So tight, I gasped and let out a whimper. “You don’t leave until I let you leave.” Something in his eyes terrified me, and I realized I wasn’t the first girl he’s done this to. He pulled me toward him, grabbed either side of my face, and smashed his lips down onto mine.

My head was locked in his hands, so I was unable to move away. I tried pushing him off me with my hands, but what I felt was sheer muscle. He was easily overpowering me.

“Pierce, stop!” I tried yelling into his lips, shoving against him as hard as I could.

“Hey!” I heard someone call. Pierce suddenly let go of me and I saw a flash of brunet curls step between Pierce and me. “She said stop.”

I recognized the husky voice immediately. Prince Harry glanced at me. “You alright?”

I wiped my mouth to get rid of Pierce’s spit all over it but nodded. From my struggle against him, half my hair had fallen out of its low bun.

“She came onto me, mate,” Pierce said, smiling and pointing at me. He stepped closer to me and tried grabbing my wrist that was still sore, probably to lead me away again.

I yanked my hand back and suddenly, I heard a fist colliding with a face. Prince Harry punched Pierce and sent Pierce reeling back, grabbing his nose.

“I’ll get you out of here,” Prince Harry said, lightly touching my shoulder and guiding me out of the backroom. “There’s a car waiting outside. I’ll be there in a moment. Will you be alright?”

I nodded again, getting sort of annoyed that he had asked me that already.

People outside were all looking at us, and photographers were pointing their own cameras at me, snapping pictures. Everyone was talking, asking what had happened. Somehow they heard everything that happened inside. Dozens of people were shouting at us, asking what happened. I was still dizzy from the champagne and trying to process what events just happened. The lights of the cameras were blinding and I thought I might faint.

“Carolina!” Jude shouted, racing up to me. Prince Harry had disappeared now. “What the hell happened? I left you for, like, ten minutes!”

“Prince… his royal…” I shook my head, trying to remember the proper title. “Harry said there’s a car. Get me out of here, Jude.”

Jude held my arm tightly, but a lot lighter than Pierce had. I used him as support, guiding me through the heavy crowd. Sure enough, there was a black car, same as the ride over, waiting just outside the entrance. Just as I was about to get into the car, I saw Prince Harry running out to us.

“Jude, can you go back inside and take over for her?” he said, walking over. Behind him, two security men followed.

Jude bowed slightly. “Of course, your highness.”

I looked desperately at Jude, silently praying that he wouldn’t leave me alone with Prince Harry. Jude seemed to be the only person of sound mind around this place. But Jude was already walking away.

“Miss Pearson,” Prince Harry said, motioning for me to get in the car.

I took one last glance at Jude, hoping he’d look behind him but he never did. I finally knelt into the car. Once I was seated, I took my camera off from around my neck, took off the lens, and placed it gingerly into the bag all while Harry and his guards climbed into the car.

“Here,” Prince Harry said, handing me a bottle of water. I didn’t even realize he was holding one.

I took the cold bottle, chugged some of it, and held it against the back of my neck, feeling hotter than ever. Especially on a cold, March day. I was still too dizzy to care about being proper in front of Prince Harry.

“What happened back there?” Prince Harry asked.

I noticed his knuckle then – the one that had punched Pierce. It was red but didn’t look like it would bruise. He, a prince, had punched some dude for me.

I shook my head, trying to get the facts straight. “I don’t know. We were just talking and I got some weird vibes from him. I tried to leave but then… well, you walked in.”

Harry sighed. “Pierce Volier has developed quite the reputation. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

I almost laughed. “I didn’t deal with it. You did.” I looked him in the eyes then, and I felt something… click. I suddenly felt more comfortable than I had all day. Something flipped in me then when I looked into his green, sparkling eyes. “Thank you,” I said quickly, looking away. Was I hallucinating? Was he looking at me the same way?

After a long pause, Prince Harry cleared his throat and said, “There’s going to be some backlash to this, I want you to be aware. Pierce knows how to spin a story in his favor; he’s done it for years. I don’t want you to worry about anything though. I’ll talk to my father and William. You won’t get fired. Hot water, maybe, but that’s it.”

I drank more of the water. “Thanks,” I said again, both for the water and what he just said.

“Do you want me to take you home?” he asked.

I tried not to look in his eyes, afraid I might fall into them and never be able to escape. I was slowly feeling better, so I told him, no, to take me back to Kensington where I would call a taxi or Uber to take me back to Buckingham. I decided I should still edit the photos I did have. It was only a little after noon, after all.

To my surprise, he told the driver to take us to Buckingham instead of Kensington. I thanked him again and he told me, “Stop saying thank you.”

Instead of taking the side entrance like I normally would for work, the driver pulled us through the front gates, through the front entrance, to the open courtyard beyond. The card drove us right to the main front doors, only really used for the royal family or official visitors.

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked as we stepped inside. The grand staircase greeted us and, although I had seen it a few times since starting, it still caught my breath. “Miss Pearson?”

I blinked at him. “Oh, um, yeah but I’ve got something in the fridge in the office.” It was a lie – really all I had was a protein bar in my purse but I already felt like I was taking up too much of his time.

“Come on,” he said, waving me to follow him. We walked up the grand staircase, through different heavily decorated hallways, and eventually, we ended up in the industrial-sized kitchen. “What would you like?”

I shook my head, unsure what even to say. The moment we walked in the room, all of the kitchen staff stopped what they were doing – chopping, flipping, stirring – and bowed. Prince Harry waved them off and they returned to their work.

“How about some protein? You’re looking a little white. And something warm, yeah?” he offered.

I sighed and nodded. “Sure, yeah.”

“Harriet?” Prince Harry called, and a thin woman walked over to us.

“Yes, your highness?”

“Two chicken noodle soups, please.”

“Right away, your highness.”

“We’ll be in the small dining room.”

Harriet nodded and walked off, giving orders to different people on the staff. Prince Harry whisked me away again, to the adjoining dining room. He called it the small dining room, but it could still fit in my entire flat, times three.

“Here,” he said, taking out a chair.

“I feel like I should be doing this for you,” I said, blushing while taking the seat. I slipped off the heavy bag on my shoulder and set it on the floor.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He took the seat beside me. “Are you sure you’re alright? He didn’t hurt you?”

I fiddled with the water bottle in my hand, which was now half empty. I eyed the spot on my wrist where Pierce had grabbed me just before he kissed me. It was red raw and hurt to move, so I knew it would bruise. I hoped it wouldn’t be too noticeable.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“I wish I could say you’ll never see him again but his uncle’s designs are everywhere and he leeches off his uncle’s success. Every party Volier attends, Pierce likes to tag along. Half of those parties are ones we attend, as well.”

“I’m fine,” I repeated, “I promise. I was just… caught off-guard.”

Harry sighed and turned in his seat, so he was fully facing me. “I’m sorry this happened, Miss Pearson. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

This was a completely different person from who greeted me on my first day. Whereas that Prince Harry was cold and rude, this one seemed to genuinely care. It made me feel a little bolder.

“I’m surprised you remember my name,” I said.

Harry leaned back in his chair and gave me a half smile, exposing one of his dimples. God, his dimples.

“Carolina Pearson. How could I forget?”

I shrugged. “I just figured, you know…” I trailed off, but his eyes were on me and I felt like I had to finish the sentence. “We just didn’t meet for long.”

“Ah, right. That. Look, I’m sorry if I made a bad impression on you. I had just gotten out of an argument with my father. I hope you’ll forgive me. But I am good with names.”

“Argument about what?”

Just then the door to the kitchen opened and Harriet walked out with a platter that had two bowls. She placed the bowls in front of us and bowed.

“Anything else your highness?” Harriet asked.

Harry glanced at me and I shook my head. “No, thank you. This smells amazing.”

Harriet smiled before bowing again and backing out.

I felt self-conscious sipping soup in front of literal royalty, so I only took small sips, careful not to spill anything down my chin.

“Ah, there’s some color to your cheeks,” he said after a while.

I wasn’t full, but I felt like I needed to stop. “I really should get back to work, your highness.” I stood from the seat, which probably broke a rule about standing before royalty stands or something, and Prince Harry stood as well. “Thank you for this. I am feeling better.” I bowed quickly and bent down to grab my camera bag.

“Carolina,” he said, using my name for the first time. My heart skipped a beat.

I stood up, throwing the bag on my shoulder. “Yes, your highness?”

His eyes searched my face for a good second or two, looking for something. I felt hot under his scrutiny. He seemed to have changed his mind from whatever he was going to say and instead said, “I am truly sorry for what happened back at the show. Please let me or William know if you need anything, yeah?”

I dipped my head in a small bow. “Yes, your highness.”

Then, ever so quickly, he took my hand in his and kissed the top of my knuckles so lightly. It happened so swiftly, I wondered if it even happened. I left the small dining room and wandered for a couple rooms, completely lost until I recognized the White Drawing Room in the next room over. I made it to the office while mostly everyone was still away and sat at my desk. I looked at my hand, still able to feel Prince Harry’s soft hand in mine, and the feel of his lips connecting with my skin. Then, on the same arm, I glanced at my wrist that was still a harsh shade of red. I pulled my sleeves down further to hide it and began to work on the photos of the day.

[crystallinecrimsonmoth]

Future Serial Killer [ongoing]

Chapter 28

It took a few days before Carl really started to feel better, and despite the fact that Negan had checked him for bites twenty times just in case his delirious mind was lying, he still sat on the bed beside him with his pistol on the nightstand, terrified that he might have to shoot the boy in the head.

For three days, he made hot drinks, gave him warm baths, rubbed his feet, and stroked his hair back, until eventually the stuffy feeling in the teen’s sinuses dissipated. Carl was thankful for it, but not as much as Negan, whose heart lifted at the disappearance of the bruising around his lover’s eye and the lack of redness around his nose. He was so glad to have the teen back to normal, thankful that he was still alive, never mind feeling better.

Which is why he’d snuck out on a supply run without Carl when he finally told him to piss off and stop babying him.

Dragging along Hunter, the poor security member that wasn’t on duty that day and had planned to take a long nap in his quarters, and Dwight, who had been more than happy to get Simon out of his hair for a while, Negan took a low-key car so Carl wouldn’t notice his disappearance being suspicious, and the three of them headed out to the closest town.

He had a plan… well, half of a plan. The older man knew he’d have to kill someone for it to work, dead or living depending on his choice, so he had his knife for stabbing and cutting, along with the machine guns of Hunter and Dwight, and he’d left Carl with Lucille in case he needed her. The bat would help to give his lover some more authority too, even though he didn’t really need it after the incident with Fry’s throat.

Leaving Carl to the brushing of his hair in the bathroom, Negan had snuck out without his leather jacket or Lucille, so he hoped he wouldn’t look suspicious, but after so many days of his constant checking on the teen, he wouldn’t blame him if he was willing to let the man drop dead in the middle of the road.

‘Rose, hey! Carl’s upstairs just now. Can you make sure he eats something while I’m out? I don’t want him to starve himself again.’ He sighed, smiling at Daniel who overheard him.

They all knew he was referring to the eating issues that Carl clearly had, but no one would say it out loud. The three of them along with Ada and Doc had been monitoring the progression of it in the past few weeks, documenting how much Carl ate each day before slowly introducing a feeding plan for him.

Carl had no idea it was happening, of course, because the one time Negan had brought up his potential eating disorder, the teen had elbowed him in the ribs and told him to go to hell. So they gradually put a little more on his plate each day until it was the correct portion for someone of his age and weight, and within a week, they had Carl eating what he should be without leaving anything on his plate.

They just hoped he never figured it out.

‘I’ll make sure he eats his lunch, don’t worry. Where are you off to?’ Rose raised an eyebrow at Negan, gesturing to Daniel to keep chopping vegetables while they spoke.

‘Keep going! You can chop and listen at the same time, Daniel!’ She scolded, hitting him with a kitchen towel as the teen nodded quickly, going back to focusing on the knife while still listening to their conversation.

Negan couldn’t help but laugh a little at the adoptive mother and son interaction that he’d just witnessed, before he went back to Rose’s question, staying quiet as he leaned in and replied in a hushed tone.

‘I’m going out to find a ring. I’m asking Carl to marry me.’ He whispered, grinning when Rose’s face went as red as her name and she hit him with the towel instead repeatedly.

‘Ow, what are you hitting me for?!’ He wailed, protecting his face with his hands in case she smacked him there too.

‘Marriage isn’t even a thing anymore! That boy might not even know what it means!’ She argued, smacking him one more time before Negan could reply.

‘He wasn’t that young when this started, he knows what marriage is! He knew his mum and dad were married!’

Rose narrowed her eyes at him, taking a deep breath at his reply before nodding and hitting him with the towel once more.

‘You better find him a nice ring!’

Negan let out a little laugh at her insistence and nodded, giving her a two-finger salute.

‘Will do, ma’am!’ He grinned before ruffling Daniel’s hair as he left the main building, heading to the old, battered car that Hunter and Dwight were leaning against.

‘Can’t we just take a better car, boss? He ain’t gonna suspect shit.’

‘I’m being cautious for a reason. If he doesn’t notice I’ve disappeared, he’s less likely to stress and get sick again. Trust me, Dwight, if we take a different car and he gets sick because he figured out we disappeared without him, the punishment will be on your head.’ Negan grinned at the blonde man, wrenching open the rusty car door and wincing at the creaking sound it made.

‘Get in, both of you. We obviously want to get back by dinner.’ He barked, getting into the driver’s seat and starting up the old bastard of a car.

It took them a half an hour drive to get to the town Negan wanted to search, where marvellous houses and fancy lawns yelled high-quality lifestyles. All three men stepped out into the fresh air and Negan actually smiled at the sight of walkers, pointing to them.

‘Check them, bring back what you find. I’ll look for the living to see if I can find any.’ He ordered with a sigh, watching them walk towards the herd with their machine guns at the ready, silencers clipped on so that they didn’t attract hundreds more than they could deal with.

Negan snuck off while they were dealing with the dead, starting with the first house in the street and trying the door, delighted when it opened without struggle, though disappointed at the same time as he knew that probably meant there weren’t any living to steal from.

Keeping his knife in front of him to take care of any stragglers, he wandered through to the first bedroom he could find on the top floor, grinning at the sight of a jewellery box on the dresser and making his way over to it, rummaging through the chains and bracelets until he got to the rings.

In truth, he didn’t know what he was going to get for the kid. He didn’t know if he had a favourite colour, but his obsession with red shirts and blue trainers hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Negan was sure if he found a black diamond ring that Carl would fall to his knees and suck him off right there. That was if his ogling of Amber’s black necklace was anything to go by.

They hadn’t really spoken about the wife situation since the two started “dating”, but he knew Carl wasn’t happy about it. Negan hadn’t slept with any of the women since his beloved slapped him that first time in the courtyard, too utterly head over heels to care about anyone except his little rabbit, but that didn’t seem to mean anything to the teen. Every time he saw the group, he would still go from a bright smile to an angry scowl in seconds.

One of the women, Julia, had gone missing a few weeks before that day, all of her belongings still in the room with nothing else to explain why she had left or escaped or whatever had happened to her.

Suspicious, Negan had brought it up with his one-eyed beauty, but Carl was oblivious. He claimed he had no idea what happened so the man simply dropped the conversation, and as time went on, he forgot about it completely. Either a sign of old age or a sign of skilled manipulation by Carl Grimes.

Drifting out of his thoughts, Negan focused on the rings he found. Yellow, no. Gold band, hell no. The clear diamonds were somewhat attractive, so he pocketed those, along with the red and purple rings he found, before leaving the house again, moving onto the next one.

The next few houses were no good. No jewellery boxes, nothing strewn around the rooms or left on a shelf forgotten after being taken off. The Saviour only found a few more rings before he really gave up, having cleared out the entire street. It seemed that people cared more about taking their jewellery with them than food in this neighbourhood, so he’d have to steal one of the stray cars in the driveways and take back all the food they could find in the houses.

As he stepped outside, he saw Hunter and Dwight covered in guts with a pouch full of twenty-six rings, all unique colours and designs. The sight made Negan smile, and he patted both of them on the back as he took the little bag. There were some good gems in the haul they had stripped from the dead, lots of red and blue stones accompanied by white diamonds and opal rocks, but the one that really stood out to him had a pure obsidian gem in the centre.

It shone like the real thing, and with the wealth of that particular street, it wouldn’t surprise Negan if it was real obsidian. The gem had two red rubies on either side of it, all set in a silver band that looked like a halo of leaves, and the slim design made it look like it would fit Carl perfectly.

Negan pocketed it with a nod, putting it inside the little black ring box he had found in one of the houses. Then he grinned at his two men.

‘Brilliant work, boys. There’s a fuck ton of food in these houses so let’s find the biggest car in the street and pack it up, we’ll take two if we have to and drive back together.’

Hunter and Dwight nodded.

‘We’ll search them all. Do you want to rest? You look a bit out of it.’ Dwight suggested, patting Negan’s shoulder as they talked.

The Saviour shook his head, grinning down at the ring he was holding.

‘No, I’m just thinking about what his face will look like when I give him this.’

‘You know if you do it in front of the whole Sanctuary, he’ll slap you.’ Hunter laughed as they started into the first house, grabbing a box and filling it with everything they could find.

‘He might, but his temper is one of the things I love about him so that’s okay. Bring the car around, would you? I’ll start packing up the next house.’ Negan nodded to Dwight who disappeared out the door, machine gun in hand just in case he met any stragglers.

Soon enough, they had packed up ten houses, all food that was able to be used going into the cars they stole. They’d all picked one car each, towing the rust bucket they had arrived in with the four by four that Hunter picked out and driving back towards the Sanctuary.

It was spaghetti that night, at Negan’s request, in an attempt to butter Carl up even more to say yes to his proposal. The kid had inhaled the spaghetti he made in Alexandria all those months ago, even if he’d never admit to liking it and looked pissed as hell while eating it, so it sounded like a good call when Negan told Rose to make it for dinner that night.

The Sanctuary was bustling around as always when the three Saviours got back, most people just getting on with their jobs with the exception of a few who were preparing things for the proposal that everyone but Carl knew about.

Carl liked chocolate, Negan knew that for a fact after the small square he had offered the boy while he was sick that he had gobbled down like a glass of water, so he had more hot chocolate brought up from the cellar to please his lover, and the bakers had been put to work making a cake for their engagement. The Saviour only hoped Carl said yes after all the things he’d put in place for that evening.

Letting Dwight and Hunter off until dinner, Negan wandered through to find Valerie so she could add the rings to their storage collection. They would come in handy if anyone else ever wanted to get married, though the convention had become less and less common as years went on, only a few couples per year deciding to solidify their relationship.

Negan wanted to be one of those couples with Carl, he wanted to have the kid all to himself and be his family rather than Rick being his family. It was his turn to take care of the one-eyed teen now, and he was determined to do a much better job than the older Grimes had.

Once the rings were safely in Valerie’s hands and the ring box was securely in Negan’s pocket, he headed upstairs, neglecting to knock on his and Carl’s door and walking straight in with no regard for what the teen was doing. It wasn’t like he’d be hiding shit from him, so he had no reason to knock.

As soon as he walked in, he was greeted to the most beautiful sight he’d ever laid eyes on.

Carl was standing in front of the full-length mirror, decked out in black and green lingerie that fitted around his slim body like it was made for him, stockings covering his long legs as he ran his thumbs down the sides where the teddy hugged his hips.

There was an empty plate on the dresser, a sign that he’d eaten all his lunch, but the look the teen was giving it made Negan realise he wasn’t entirely okay at that moment. He approached from behind once he shed his jacket on the bed, covering Carl’s lingering hands with his own and squeezing them.

‘You feeling okay, darling?’

The young Saviour just gave a slight nod, leaning into his chest. Negan smiled a little, knowing he was lying but dropping it for the moment so he could make him happy instead.

‘I want you to get dressed up in that black shirt I got you and come downstairs for me, okay? It’s dinner time.’

Carl raised an eyebrow at him quizzically.

‘Why do I need the shirt? You said it was for special occasions.’

‘Did I? Well, I just like to see my favourite boy looking confident, and I know you like that shirt.’ Negan grinned, kissing his cheek and rubbing his hands over the teen’s hips to stop him from dwelling on the soft parts of himself.

He watched as he got a nod from him before the kid was padding over to the wardrobe in his lace outfit, rummaging to find the shirt. The older Saviour watched him with fond eyes, admiring the way the panties underneath the bodysuit hugged his ass - it made him want to take a bite right out of that round, fleshy peach. He was obsessed with the younger man’s body, but his mind was what he tried to focus on at that moment, determined to make him happier.

Negan sat on the bed until Carl was dressed and ready to go downstairs, the ring box still in his pocket as they approached the crowd of Saviours in the community hub. They all knew what was about to happen and to their complement, they were all doing a very good job of acting normal.

The pair of lovers wandered down to where Rose was handing out portions of spaghetti, a big grin gracing her face when they approached. Negan glared at her, motioning with his hand across his neck to cut it out, not wanting Carl to get suspicious.

‘Why are you so happy tonight?’

Too late.

Rose did her best to keep her composure though, simply giving Carl a softer smile instead as she handed him his plate.

‘Just feeling particularly thankful for life today.’

‘Here, here!’ Ada’s voice chimed in as she approached with Doc to get their portions, grinning at the Grimes boy with barely contained glee that made Negan even more anxious about giving shit away.

Carl raised an eyebrow at both of them, clearly confused, but ultimately shrugged and took his plate, wandering over to the table that he and Negan always occupied when they had dinner downstairs. The older man whipped around to glare at the women once Carl wasn’t looking anymore.

‘I’m stressed out enough about this without you two screwing it up! Stop grinning!’ He scolded but he wasn’t angry at all, too much pent up energy in his stomach to focus on anything but what he was going to do when they finished dinner.

The two women just gave him smirks, making the man groan and stalk off with his dinner to sit with Carl.

An hour later when everyone had eaten and plates were being stacked up to go to the kitchen, Carl was talking to one of the security team members that he had become friendly with since the incident at Hilltop. Rory, Negan was pretty sure that was his name, but he didn’t really care while everyone around him helped to set up what he was about to do.

Rose slid the cake onto the counter in front of her from where it had been hidden underneath, and Daniel snuck around to talk to Carl, grinning at him as he signed.

‘I’ll take your plate through to the kitchen, dude.’

Negan watched as Carl smiled and nodded at Daniel, before getting down on one knee behind him with the ring box open in his hand and waiting for the teen to turn around. When he finally did, his eye went so wide it looked as if it were about to pop out of his skull, and Negan grinned widely at him.

‘Marry me?’

[verrottweil]

like fuel to the fire

Monkey D. Luffy has been assigned to be Rob Lucci's intern at Kobe port's customs. What follows is Lucci's slow descent into /feelings/.

Chapter 1

Read on AO3.

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Eight minutes before the alarm on his phone goes off, Lucci stirs awake and snaps his eyes open. The Maersk Elgin’s docking at five thirty and he needs to be at the harbor’s Rokko terminal at least half an hour beforehand to prepare the inspection. It’s pitch black in his bedroom aside from the streetlight falling in from the window. He sits upright, stretches his arms out above him, gets the crick out of his neck and throws the sheets off his legs, almost knocking the white roll pillow off the foot-end.

Lucci switches the lamp on his nightstand on. He squints bleary-eyed against the yellowish-white glare, hauling a hand through his unruly mop of hair and scratching the base of his neck, fingertips reaching past the neckline of the tank top he sleeps in.

His bedroom is sparsely furnished due to a lack of space. Lucci lives in a two-story building down some small, crowded neighborhood about a twenty-minute drive away from port where he works as a customs officer; but there’s a hospital nearby, and a park with a basketball court that’s always deserted in the evenings. He grabs his phone, gets out of bed and heads on down to the kitchen. Blinking the last sleep from his eyes, Lucci looks disheveled in just a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top.

Summers are hot and humid even at night, and aside from the constant hum of the air-conditioner and the shuffle of his bare feet, it’s dead-quiet inside the house.

With the sound of the coffee machine on the background chasing away the silence, Lucci rounds the kitchen counter, opens his fridge and grabs a glass jar of jam and bagged pastries. There’s a detailed drawing of a rabbit on the paper bag: the local bakery’s logo. After a quick breakfast, he drinks his strong cup of coffee in peace, scrolling down the news on his phone, sweeps the crumbs off his plate into the paper bag, gets up and slides the glass door open to the patio. Outside, the temperature’s bearable and the air’s not too clammy yet.

There’s a decently-sized dovecote mounted against the wall, made from pinewood. A pigeon’s low and steady cooing can be heard from the inside.

Lucci softly knocks on the wood and when he hears the rustle of feathers, he starts to strew the crumbs over the ledge, clicking his tongue to draw the pigeon out. The bird’s name is Hattori. Over five years ago, Lucci found the pigeon as a helpless, young squab in a broken nest on the ground and decided to raise it by himself.

The sound of cicadas dooms up from his neighbor’s backyard behind the garden wall, but he barely pays heed to the noise. He checks if there’s still enough water in the bottle holder to last Hattori for the day.

Back inside the house, Lucci continues his morning routine. With the grace of a large cat on the prowl, he silently trudges up the steps of the staircase and makes a beeline for the bathroom, which interior is much like the rest of the house: modern, monochrome and sleek. He does a hundred pushups on the bathroom floor and takes a quick, cold shower.

After toweling himself dry and combing his unruly, wet mane, Lucci attentively studies his reflection in the rectangular mirror above the washing table, searching for stubborn hairs in his brows and goatee, set of tweezers in hand, and brushes his teeth.

He unceremoniously dumps the wet towel and his sweaty underwear into the laundry hamper, the wicker lid falling back shut with a curt bang. Quickly steps into a pair of designer boxer-briefs and pulls them up over his ass, so the white elastic band spelling out Emporio fits snug around his hipbones. ‘Dress to impress’ has been a motto Lucci adhered to since his early teens.

Most of his wardrobe consists of designer suits, quality clothing, patent leather dress shoes and fancy loafers, but in his opinion, an expensive taste’s well worth the price. It’s something he acquired from his uncle.

Lucci was orphaned at a young age and since he didn’t have any relatives who were financially able to raise him back in Italy, he got sent off to Tokyo, where his uncle worked at the embassy. Money was never an issue, but him being a foreigner was, sometimes. He stands shirtless in front of his closet, pensively rubbing his chin as his gaze goes from one coating hanger to the next, trying to decide on what shirt to wear.

Under the bright bedroom lights, the blackish purple color of the crossed-out squares tattooed on his arms is overexposed, boldly standing out against his slightly-tanned skin.

When he’s fully dressed and put his hair up in a ponytail to get it out of his neck, Lucci deliberately leaves the first two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, spritzes some of his favorite cologne against the column of his throat and pops the collar. It’s still so early but he feels surprisingly awake. Must’ve been the coffee. He just needs to get his lunchbox from the fridge, with the leftovers from yesterday’s dinner, and grab his phone from the counter and his briefcase, then he can slip on his shoes and head off to work.

Driving down to the harbor in the dark feels like being in a movie. Streetlight falls through the front window of his car in neat intervals. Lucci likes the contemplative quiet of the city during nighttime. It’s a stark contrast with the bustling port just beyond its borders.

Spandam’s waiting for him at the beginning of the terminal, with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his blazer and his tie whipping around his neck. There’s a strong wind that sprays the smell of seawater into their faces. Dockworkers are scrambling around them, readying the terminal for the ship’s arrival, and in the background, over the sound of the waves crashing against the walkway, the wheels of a movable crane bulldozer over the concrete. Lucci furrows his brows when he sees his superior isn’t waiting for him alone.

One of the foremen he recognizes to be Franky is standing next to him, talking excitedly to a young man barely out of his teens. Lucci’s never seen the boy around here before.

“Ah, Lucci, there you are,” Spandam beckons him over impatiently when he’s close enough, obviously tired of being ignored by his company. “Remember that, ahem, assignment we talked about last week?” All he gets in response is an unimpressed, stone-cold expression. Spandam bristles and continues irritably, “About the internship, yes? Pah, well, this is your internee. Monkey D. Garp’s grandson—”

Before Spandam manages to wedge another word in, the boy pipes up loudly, “Oi, I can introduce myself!”

“My name’s Luffy,” he says over Franky’s roaring laughter, turning towards Lucci with a big grin on his face. “Nice to meet you!” His words aren’t accompanied by the customary bow or handshake, but there’s enthusiasm visible in his loose-limbed, almost lanky posture. “And I know more people who work here than just my gramps.”

Lucci wonders how much it would affect his perfect record if he turns around and walks away now. This boy’s going to be a headache, of that he’s sure.

“Like me,” Franky agrees gleefully, pointing at himself with a satisfied smile curled on his lips. “Hah, Luffy’s been around the docks since he’s been a kid, always getting into trouble—” Lucci snaps his head up at the word, looking sharply at the foreman as he says this, while Luffy happily nods along in confirmation.

“Did you know Shanks had to dive into the water to get ‘em out once? Garp was so pissed.”

Done with the conversation, Spandam loudly scrapes his throat, and when that doesn’t get their attention, he exclaims rather loudly, “Yes, yes, but Garp’s grandson – “My name’s Luffy!” – will be upholding a certain standard now, and who better to coach him than our very best, mmmh?”

Scratching the side of his head, Franky looks somewhat dubiously at Spandam and mutters, “They’ll be evenly matched if you ask me.”

Spandam huffs in return and replies stiffly, “But I didn’t.” Jabbing his forefinger at Lucci, he continues, “He’ll be under your supervision. Show him what we do around here, ease him into it with some easy tasks and please don’t give Garp a reason to complain about us. Last thing I need is the coast guard nagging at me!”

“I’ll make sure he’s on his best behavior,” Lucci responds coolly, before turning away and walking further down the terminal. He pauses and casts a glance over his shoulder at Luffy. “Are you coming or not?”

Luffy wasn’t really paying much attention to the conversation going on around him; he was watching wide-eyed how the dockworkers install the movable cranes along the walkway and drive their container handlers around. When Lucci addresses him, he tilts his head in surprise. Giddy at the thought of getting on one of those huge container ships, he bounces after him, moving on the balls of his feet. Lucci heaves a deep sigh.

When the Maersk Elgin docks, the cranes are neatly lined up along the terminal walkway with plenty of space in between to stockpile the containers. They’re standing near the far end for the inspection.

“—And since the ship comes from Shanghai, we have clearance to open around fifteen percent of the cargo even if the documentation checks out.” Lucci stops talking when he notices the boy hasn’t listened to a single word he said.

The lights from the ship reflect a blinking red and blue in Luffy’s big, expressive eyes as he stares unabashedly, mouth slightly open and rocking back on forth on the tips of his toes.

Leaning in, Lucci says with a cold smirk, “You could at least pretend to listen.”

He blinks, suddenly coming back to the conversation and chuckles sheepishly, bringing a hand to the back of his head. “Shishishi, but that would’ve been even ruder,” Luffy remarks as if that would get him out of trouble.

Seizing up the height of the ship’s hull, he then prompts, “So when are we going aboard?!”

“We’re not,” Lucci deadpans, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants. Some hairs come loose from his ponytail when the sea breeze picks up again. At Luffy’s pouty expression, he merely scoffs and says, “If you would’ve payed attention, you’d know that we inspect the containers off board. We check two or three right here and the others at the shelter.”

“Aw…” Luffy mumbles, and judging by the high, innocent tone of his voice, most of what Lucci said went over his head anyway. “But we can go inside the containers, right?”

Lucci closes his eyes briefly and takes a steadying breath, borrowing on his patience to get him through this conversation. It’s not that he’s bad with people; his no-nonsense demeanor and appearance usually pave the way to smooth social interactions. His mind’s susceptible to intrusive thoughts when he has to deal with people too long however, and those thoughts usually turn to violence.

Shortly after moving to Kobe, Lucci became a member of a Muay Thai club. It’s one of the few martial arts disciplines that promises the intense workout he needs.

His uncle made him do all sorts of fighting sports during his teens to get him out of his hair. Lucci learned to love the thrill of a good fight. He’s even gotten suspended a couple of times because he’d gotten carried away and beat his opponent to a bloody pulp on the mats. There’s something particularly satisfying about blood drying in the creases of his knuckles.

“Oi, can we go into the containers or not?” Luffy pipes up again impatiently, apparently not so keen on being ignored himself.

Lucci stares the boy down, nonplussed by the demanding tone in his voice and the gleam in his eyes, and studies his appearance for a moment. There’s a thin, long scar under his left eye. Even in the relative darkness, the whitish tissue sticks out against his suntanned skin. His shirt’s too big around his shoulders, store-bought, and rumpled, hanging half-out of his pants. Luffy furrows his brows together and returns Lucci’s stare defiantly.

In the background, the rumble of the cranes and of the containers being placed down on the concrete resounds over the shouts of the dockworkers.

“Yes,” Lucci eventually says, smirking coldly again. “You can go inside. Be careful nobody gets the idea in their head to reseal the container though. You might run out of air.” Softly he mutters under his breath, “And that’d be a real pity.”

“Why would anyone close the container? You’ll be there to make sure everything’s alright, right?” Luffy responds easily with a carefree grin on his face, and he crosses his arms behind his head, looking off at the ship again.

Taken aback by the boy’s response, Lucci doesn’t reply right away, absentmindedly scrutinizing his profile for a moment. He then bristles and clicks his tongue in annoyance. Some dockworkers are busy offloading a container for inspection a couple of feet away from them; the reflective strips on their safety vests glinting silver in the slivers of light. Lucci unclenches his fists and walks on over, expecting the boy to keep up.

“Oh!” Luffy yells excitedly when he sees one of the dockworkers with a crowbar. “Can I open it?!”

Startled, the dockworker almost drops the crowbar and fumbles to keep a tight grip. He looks from his colleagues to Lucci to the boy and then back to Lucci, instinctively knowing he’s the one who really calls the shots. Rolling his eyes, he reminds him snidely, “You’re supposed to be on your best behavior.”

Luffy rubs his chin pensively, nods to himself and then turns to the dockworker with the crowbar, looking at him earnestly. “Can I please open it?” He asks politely.

It’s going to be a long day, Lucci thinks as he watches how the astounded dockworker hands the crowbar over to the boy and helps him open the container. He’s going to pay a visit to Spandam’s office once they’re done with the inspection. Agreeing to coach an intern is one thing, but Lucci has no intention to become a glorified babysitter. With a hoarse creak, the container door slowly swings open under the force of the crowbar; Luffy starts to laugh loudly and his entire face lights up in triumph.

Lucci just barely resists the urge to dunk him into the sea.

.

[alexisrosemullens]

you are the one (designed for me)

Summary: Everyone has a timer that countdowns until you meet your soulmate. When you meet them, it turns into an infinity sign. The Gallaghers have bad luck with their soulmates, especially Ian whose soulmate left when he needed him the most.

Chapter One: time is moving slow

Chapter Two:  My mind runs away to you  

Chapter Three: I have one vacancy and I wanted you to know that  

Time seems to fly with Mickey. Their first anniversary comes and goes. Ian tries to take Mickey to a fancy restaurant but they end up spending it in the Alibi. Debbie graduates a few months later. She actually walks, unlike Lip. Fiona cries the whole time while Lip and Ian take hundreds of pictures each. Fiona hangs Debbie’s diploma next to Lip’s and Ian goes into work telling everyone who will listen about Debbie’s graduation.

The summer months are insane. Ian starts classes to officially become a paramedic. He enrolls in three courses and has to do 45 clinical hours on top of his regular 40 hours. Mickey starts taking on more responsibility at the Alibi. They barely see each other and when they do, they start fighting constantly. They annoy everyone around them. Ian isn’t even sure what they are fighting over. One time it was about toothpaste and the latest was about it being too hot. Lip is the one that suggest a weekend trip. Ian tells him that it won’t work, that they are just grumpy and they’ll work it out on their own. Lip just hands him a confirmation email to a beach resort close to the Beach State Park about two hours away.

Mickey protests the idea but eventually gives in when they have a fight over shoes by the door. They take off early on a Friday to drive up. Fiona lets them borrow her car, hugging both of them before they left. Mickey grumbles the whole drive.

“Why the fuck did you agree this?” Mickey snarls, looking out at the endless Lake Michigan.

“I think it will be good for us. We’ve been together for over a year and haven’t taken a trip together. It will be fun,” Ian says.

“We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

“We’re on the lake and I think it’s beautiful out. And really nice of Lip to give us this.”

Mickey rolls his eyes. “Your brother was too busy to go and that’s why he gave it to us.”

“Can’t you just try to get along with Lip? He’s trying to be nice.”

“Still a dick.”

Ian sighs and gives up. He pulls up to the resort and smiles at Mickey before getting out of the car. Mickey pouts and grumbles as they check in and walk to their room. He refuses to unpack for the two days they will be here, instead he watches Ian carefully unpack his suitcase and place his clothes neatly in the dresser.

“Come on, Mickey, this will be fun! We can walk on the beach, eat, collect shells for Yev!” Ian says, wrapping his arms around Mickey.

“There are so many people here, man.”

Ian rubs his hand through his hair. “We don’t have to hold hands if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Mickey sighs, pulling away from Ian. “It’s not that. I’m not scared anymore.” He grabs Ian’s hand and squeezes it. “Okay, fine. Let’s go walk on the stupid beach."

Ian grins and almost drags him out the door. Mickey huffs when he has to take his shoes off before walking on the sand. Ian squeezes his hand and tugs him toward the water.

“Gallagher, don’t!” Mickey protests as Ian tries to pull him into the water.

“Come on, just our feet.”

“Then sand will get everywhere.”

“Sand will be everywhere no matter what. Come on, Mick,” Ian begs, tugging him closer.

Mickey resigns and accepts his fate. He lets Ian drag him over to the water. Ian laughs, kicks, and plays in it while Mickey just watches with his arms crossed and a small smile on his face. They walk down the beach, holding hands. Ian picks up shells for Yevgeny and they talk.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Ian says, squeezing his hand and adjusting the bag full of shells.

Mickey snorts. “We’ve been together over a year. You know everything.”

“There has to be something in the great world of Mickey Milkovich that I don’t know.”

Mickey hums. “Did I tell you about the time Kev and I turned the upstairs of the Alibi into a rub-and-tug?”

Ian starts laughing. “I’m sorry, what?”

Mickey shrugs. “Svet was pregnant with Yev and her boss didn’t pay her enough so I quit for her. I took all the whores with me and started the rub-and-tug.”

“Holy shit.”

Mickey laughs. “It was fun. For a while. Then Terry died and Svet and I agreed we wanted to do right by Yev. We didn’t want to fuck him up.”

Ian tugs his arm, pulling him closer. “Well, I think you’re doing a wonderful job.”

“Shut up.” Mickey pushes him away, grinning. “Now it’s your turn to tell me something.”

Ian shrugs. “You know all my secrets.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Ian grins. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

“Why did you unpack? We’re only going to be here for two days. There’s no point, man.”

Ian grows quiet, stopping to look out at the lake. He thinks for awhile, trying to decide if he should tell Mickey. Mickey has told him dark secrets of his past and childhood. He told him the real reason he married Svetlana and why Yevgeny exists.  “For the first four or five years of my life, we didn’t have a house. We lived all over, cars, under the L, other people’s houses, in the park. Fiona, Lip, and I had a backpack each with everything we owned. We were only allowed to take that and when it was time to leave, we grabbed the backpacks and left. When we moved into our house, Fiona didn’t unpack. I think she was afraid. Then Debbie and Carl were born and we got sent into the system more times than I can count. I had some clothes in my dresser but I always had a backpack full of things I needed in case something happened. I learned to never unpack.”

“What changed that?”

“After Jimmy/Steve, Trevor, and Monica, I didn’t want to run anymore. Or wait to run. So I unpacked.”

Mickey squeezes his hand. “You don’t have to run with me.”

Ian turns to him, placing his hand on his face. “I know.”

The rest of the weekend is relaxing. They walk on the beach, collect shells, fuck, and eat. It was perfect and definitely what they needed. When they return back to Chicago, they feel refreshed. Mickey actually thinks Lip for the trip.

The summer ends and big changes come to the Gallagher family. Ian starts his next set of classes, Lip enters his last semester of college, Carl starts his last year of high school, and Debbie starts college. Yevgeny starts first grade and Mickey somehow convinces Svetlana to let Ian join them with dropping Yevgeny off. She glares at Ian the whole time but doesn’t say anything.

Ian’s change in schedule worries Mickey and Fiona but with their help, Ian handles it well. He makes sure Mickey can help him with any signs of mania or depression. Fiona gives Mickey books and websites and Mickey stays up all night researching. Fiona tells Ian that she isn’t as worried now that Mickey is around.

Mandy calls one day and asks Ian and Mickey to pick her up from the airport and that she has a surprise. Ian spots her walking down the stairs and yells at her. He sees her face light up and take off running.

“Hi!” she squeals, jumping into Ian’s arms. “Fuck, I missed you!”

“I missed you, too!”

Mickey clears his throat. “What am I?”

Mandy pulls away from Ian and throws her arms around Mickey. “I missed you, too, fuckface.”

“Um, hi?” A guy walks up to them, carrying two bags.

Mandy grins when she pulls away from Mickey. She steps closer to the guy, wrapping her arm through his arm. “Ian, Mickey, this is Derek. Derek, this is my stupid brother, Mickey and my best friend, Ian. Derek is my soulmate.” She squeezes Derek’s arm and show them her wrist with the new infinity sign.

“Mandy!” Ian smiles, pulling her in for another hug.

“That’s not the only news,” Mandy tells him. “We’re moving back.”

“Fucking finally,” Mickey grins. He reaches out to grab one of the bags from Derek. “Here, man, let me take that from you.”

“Sure,” Derek hands Mickey the bag.

“One more thing,” Mandy smiles slightly. “Can we stay with you until we find a place?”

“Fuck, no. I have no fucking room,” Mickey scoffs.

“Come on, Mick. It would be cheaper than a hotel,” Mandy pouts, tugging his arm. “Please.”

“Where the fuck are you going to sleep? The kid’s bed?”

Ian grabs Mickey and pushes him out the door, motioning for Mandy and Derek to follow. “We can discuss it over dinner. Fiona’s making lasagna.”

“Uh, no, we can discuss it right fucking now.”

Ian rolls his eyes and continues pushing Mickey out the airport. Mickey argues the whole way to the Gallaghers, saying Mandy and Derek cannot move in with him. Mandy adds fire to the fuel, yelling back at him. They get to the Gallaghers and Ian claps Derek on the shoulders who looked pale.

“It only gets louder from here,” Ian says, smiling at him before running up the stairs to his house.

Mandy and Derek end up staying Mickey’s for almost a month until they find their own place. They get to know Derek in the process and before they move out, Mickey pulls Mandy aside and tells her that he likes Derek and hopes he stays.

Mandy and Derek move close to Mickey’s and Mandy comes over to help keep Yevgeny. Yevgeny loves have his aunt close. Mandy and Ian always try to get together one day a week, whether it’s dinner, breakfast, or just a quick five minute chat. Mandy and Derek join for the Gallagher dinner. It takes some time for Derek to get use to. The Gallaghers were a lot to handle.

Ian slowly moves into Mickey’s place. It’s unspoken and Mickey doesn’t mind. There’s more room at his place than at the Gallaghers. Yevgeny loves having Ian with them. He likes to remind Mickey that Ian makes better french toast than him. Mickey glares at the kid but hands the cooking over to Ian. Everything is going well until Svetlana finds out.

“Orange boy is crazy! I will not have him here with my son!” she yells.

“Well, tough shit! It’s not up to you! It’s up to me and Ian stays here!” Mickey yells back. He kicks Svetlana out and refuses to talk to her for weeks.

Mandy is the point of communication between them. She doesn’t say anything, just drops Yevgeny off and picks him up but Ian knows she wants to stay something.

Ian decides he has enough and asks Svetlana to meet at Patsy’s before his class. Svetlana reluctantly accepts the invite. Ian gets to Patsy’s early. Fiona joins him for a cup of coffee and tries to calm him down. Ian just asks her to hide the knives. When Svetlana arrives, Fiona pats his hand and leaves, giving Svetlana a small smile.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” Ian greets when she sits down.

Svetlana doesn’t say anything, she just takes the mug of coffee Ian had for her and starts drinking.

“Do you want anything? I can call Fiona back over.”

She doesn’t answer him, just continues to watch him as she sips her coffee. Ian bits his lip and starts tapping on the table, putting his nervous energy into something.

“Look, I know you don’t like me but I just want to say, I’m not going anywhere. I love Mickey. And I love Yevgeny,” Ian says. “And I know you think I’m going to do something because of my bipolar but I can assure you, I am managing it. I’ve been managing it for seven years. I take my medicine regularly, I go to the clinic, Mickey, Fiona, and Lip help me notice the signs. I’m stable.”

Svetlana sets her mug down and flips her right wrist over to show her zero tattoos. She nods at his wrist and Ian flips his wrist over. “You’ve been hurt too.” It’s not a question.

“Yeah.”

“Soulmates are stupid. Universe is stupid.”

Ian snorts and nods. “Yeah, the universe doesn’t understand how humans react to stuff.”

Svetlana hums in agreement. “Prostitution.”

“Bipolar.”

They sit in silence for a while then Svetlana looks up at him. “I know you love them and if Mikhailo trusts you, I trust you.”

“Thank you.”

After their talk, Svetlana and Ian develop a weird friendship. She starts teaching him Russian and he starts teaching her basic aid. It helps him study for classes. Mickey hates it at first but then Ian points out that he has breakfast with Fiona every week and he reminds him that it’s a good idea for them to get along for Yevgeny’s sake.

December rolls around and Lip and Ella graduate from college. Fiona makes him walk and takes hundreds of pictures. They got out for dinner and Ella’s family joins them. Fiona smiles and cries the whole time, so proud of her brother.

Lip gets a permanent job at his internship and starts before Christmas. To celebrate, he buys a giant Christmas tree and several presents for everyone. Christmas is crazy with more people joining in the Gallagher celebration.

Christmas passes and Ian starts his last semester of classes and starts studying for his big test. He works long hours between his clinical hour and regular hours. He realizes one late afternoon that his second anniversary with Mickey is coming up and he has nothing planned. He asks Debbie for help and she squeals at the thought.

But a week before their anniversary, he gets a panicked call from Fiona to get to the police station as soon as he can. Ian is almost sick at the thought that something is wrong. Mickey tries to assure him but he can’t shake the thought off. They drops Yevgeny off at Mandy and Derek’s and head over the station.

Debbie flies into Ian’s arms as soon as he walks in. She sobs in his shoulder and Ian’s stomach drops. “Debs, what’s wrong?”

He sees Mickey head over to Fiona and Liam. Fiona hugs him then whispers something to him. Mickey nods and throws his arm around Liam’s shoulder, leading him over to Ian.

“Hey, I’m going to take Liam and Debbie home. Fiona says Lip and Ella are on their way. I’ll come back after I drop them off,” Mickey says, not even asking if Ian wants him to come back. He just knows Ian needs him here.

“Yeah. Did Fiona say what happened?” Ian asks, peeling Debbie off him.

“It’s Carl.”

Ian squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck.”

Debbie sobs, grabbing Ian’s arm and squeezing it. Liam makes a small noise and wraps his arm around Ian’s middle. Ian kisses the side of her head and pushes her gently to Mickey. Mickey wraps his arm around her shoulders. Ian bends down to Liam’s level. “Hey, it’s okay. Go home. Debs will take care of you, okay? Fi and I are going to deal with this.”

“But I want to stay here!” Liam whines.

“This is adult stuff okay? We need you home,” Ian kisses his forehead and Liam nods. He takes Mickey’s hand.

Ian kisses Mickey and watches him led his brother and sister out. Once they are out the door, Ian immediately heads over to Fiona. Fiona collapses in his arms and starts sobbing. Ian rubs her back, rocking her slightly. “What the fuck happened, Fi?”

Fiona pulls away from him, pushing her hair back with her hand. “They caught him in a van full of drugs, Ian. Drugs. I had no fucking idea.”

“Fuck.” Ian pinches his nose. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Who knows how long he’s been doing this.”

“Do you think he’s selling?” Ian asks.

Fiona shrugs, hugging herself. “I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with Patsy’s and Liam, I haven’t been paying attention to him.”

“Don’t blame this on yourself, Fi. You do so much. If anything, it’s my fault. I mean, I moved out, haven’t been coming over as much, haven’t been paying attention to any of the kids,” Ian says.

Fiona shakes her head. “Ian, it isn’t your fault either.”

“What are we going to do, Fi?”

She shakes her head, hugging herself tighter. “I don’t know.”

Lip runs through the door, Ella following closely at his heels. “What the fuck is going on?” He pulls Fiona in for a hug, squeezing her tightly.

“Hey,” Ella says, pulling Ian in for a hug. “Mickey not here?”

“He took Liam and Debbie home.”

“Probably for the best,” Ella says, squeezing him. She pulls away from him then goes to hug Fiona.

Lip hugs Ian next. “I already called a lawyer. She’s on her way,” he mumbles.

“Good.”

They sit in uncomfortable chairs, waiting for someone, something. Mickey comes back and wraps his arm around Ian’s shoulders, squeezing it.

A detective makes his way over, closing his file when he walks up. “Carl Gallagher’s family.”

Fiona, Lip, and Ian stand up. Fiona crosses her arms and speaks up first. “Yeah?”

“I’m Detective Romero. I will be handling your brother’s case,” he says. “Your brother was found in possession of over 15 grams of cocaine. We believe this is connected to a drug lord and told your brother if he gives us the name of his supplier, he can get a reduced sentence.”

“Gallaghers don’t snitch,” Fiona snares.

Lip grabs her arm and pulls her to the side, Ian following close behind. “Fiona, he’s almost 18. He could be charged as an adult if he doesn’t say anything. He is three months away from graduating. He could ruin his life.”

“Fuck, I know, Lip. I know,” she pushes her hair away and Ian could see the dark circles under her eyes. She turns back to the detective. “Can we see him?”

“Yes, you can. Does he have a lawyer?”

“She’s on her way,” Lip says.

“Okay,” The detective nods. “You can speak with him for ten minutes. Bail will be posted when he is moved to county.”

Fiona nods and they follow the detective to see Carl. After a frustrating conversation with Carl, they leave the interrogation room. Ian walks into Mickey’s arms, nuzzling into his neck.

“Didn’t go well?” he asks. Ian shakes his head. “Alright, it’s late. You have class in the morning. Let’s go.”

“Can we stay with Fiona?” Ian mumbles.

“Yeah,” Mickey rubs his back. Ian slowly lets go of him but stays as close as he can to him.

“I’m going to stay and talk to the lawyer,” Lip says. “I’ll be over later.”

Fiona nods. “Yeah, okay.”

The next few days, they deal with Carl. Fiona, with Lip and Ian’s help, is able to get enough money for bail and brings Carl home. His court date is set for a month away. The lawyer Lip gets continues to try to convince Carl to confess. Every night, they seem to be over at the Gallaghers. Ian realizes several days later that he missed his and Mickey’s anniversary.

With Debbie’s help, he plans a dinner at their apartment. He surprises Mickey one night after Mickey’s shift.

“What’s this?” Mickey asks, looking at the table decorated with candles.

“With all this shit going on with Carl, I forgot about our anniversary,” Ian says.

Mickey raises his eyebrows. “Did you get me flowers too?”

Ian smiles shyly. “Maybe?”

Mickey rolls his eyes but smiles and sits down. Ian sits across from him, reaching out to grab his hand, rubbing his knuckles. “How was your day?”

Ian shrugs. “I sat with Carl, did my homework. I tried talking to him again but he won’t budge.”

“You know, I could talk to him. I know what it’s like, to be down that path,” Mickey says.

“You would do that?”

“He’s your brother.”

After a night of bliss and just the two of them, the next morning Mickey heads over to talk to Carl while Ian is in class. Around lunchtime, he receives a call from Fiona that Carl is going to give the detective a name and take the deal. When Ian asks Mickey about it later, Mickey just shrugs and says he talked some sense into Carl. Ian never learns what Mickey says to get Carl to change his mind.

Carl gets a year in prison. Fiona cries when he is taken away. They try to move on with their life, visiting Carl as much as they can. Ian passes his paramedic test and officially becomes certified. He doesn’t have to transfer and Sue is still his partner. Fiona is so proud and it takes her mind off Carl for just a little bit. Debbie thinks she finds her soulmate two more times. She gets frustrated and even though she continues to hide her countdown, Ian knows she secretly wants to find her soulmate.

Lip pays for Liam to go to private school. With Ian’s help, Mickey and Svetlana pay for Yevgeny to go to the same private school as Liam. Mickey hates to accept Ian’s money.

“Use the money for Liam or for Carl in prison. Svetlana and I can handle this,” Mickey pushes the envelope full of money away.

“Mick, I want to help. I love you and I love Yevgeny. I want what’s best for him.” He pushes the envelope back to Mickey. “I told you, I’m in. I’m all in. All I want is you for the rest of my life.”

“Ian-”

“You’re it, Mick. You’re my family now which means Yevgeny is my family, too. I want to do this. We already share bills. Why is this any different?”

Mickey is quiet for a minute then grabs Ian’s hand and squeezes it. “I love you, too. And you’re my family, too.”

“So can we do this together?”

Mickey squeezes his hand. “Yeah.”

Yevgeny is so happy to be starting a new school and so excited about his uniform. They work out a schedule with Fiona and Lip on who picks Liam and Yevgeny up. They fall into a routine and everything is going great. Carl is released after serving almost eight months. Fiona is so happy and throws a huge party when he gets home. She hangs his GED up next to Lip and Debbie’s diploma and Ian’s GED and paramedic certificate.

Lip and Ella finally decide to get married after Lip has been at his job for over a year. Lip asks Ian to be his best man and asks Fiona to sit in for Frank and Monica. Ella wants to get married close to an actual beach and not Lake Michigan during the summer after Ian and Mickey’s third anniversary. Lip buys everyone tickets to fly out to Charleston, South Carolina. Carl gets special permission from his parole officer to go. The location is a gorgeous mansion on the river and only about twenty minutes from the beach. Lip pays for them all to stay at the beach. Ian protests and tells Lip that he and Mickey can pay for their room but Lip insists.

When they arrive, Yevgeny is bouncing with excitement. Debbie takes Yevgeny to the beach while everyone else checks in.

“Hi!” The overly happy front desk person greets. “Welcome! What are you here for? Celebrating? A honeymoon perhaps?”

Ian glances at Mickey and clears his throat. “Uh, no. We’re here for the Gallagher-Murphy wedding. There should be rooms blocked off of us.”

“Oh! Yes, of course!” she smiles and types away, handing them two key cards when she’s done.

Ian and Mickey don’t speak as they made their way to their room. They both unpack their bags, Ian could feel the tension between building.

“This place is beautiful,” Ian says after a while, sick of the silence.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, what the lady said about it being our honeymoon, it’s no big deal, right?” Ian finally just asks.

Mickey shakes his head. “Nah, man. It’s a mistake.”

“Yeah, it’s just we haven’t discussed, you know, marriage,” Ian says, looking down at his feet.

“What about it? It’s just a piece of paper.”

Ian turns to stare at the window before Mickey can see his face fall.

Yevgeny runs in with Debbie, yelling all about the beach. Ian recovers quickly and puts on a smile for Yevgeny. They spend the day on the beach until Yevgeny falls asleep on Fiona’s towel. Mickey picks him up and carries him to their room, Ian following closely behind.

They tuck Yevgeny in and get ready for bed themselves. They brush their teeth side by side and Mickey watches Ian take his medicine. They lay in bed, the TV on low volume to not wake up Yevgeny and Ian can hear the waves crash ever so often. It’s so peaceful and quiet and he tries not to think about Mickey’s comment. Instead, he sinks into the bed and leans against Mickey, Mickey’s arm automatically going around his shoulder. Ian looks up at him and knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with this man.

The wedding is too fancy for the Gallaghers and the two Milkovichs. Yevgeny complains about his itchy suit and Liam whines that his shoes hurt his feet. Fiona shushes them, reminding them that it’s Lip’s day. She runs around trying to make sure everything is perfect. She fixes Carl’s tie at least five times, stops Yevgeny and Liam from getting into the food, and helps Debbie with her hair. Ian tries to get her to calm down but she just shakes her head.

“If I stop, I’ll start crying and I’m pretty sure this cheap mascara is not waterproof,” she says, patting his cheek.

So Ian lets her. He heads to Lip’s dressing room after fixing Mickey’s cufflinks and Yevgeny’s vest. He kisses Mickey’s cheek and tells him to save him a dance. Mickey just snorts at his comment.

“Hey, you decent?” Ian asks, walking in Lip’s room.

Lip is putting his jacket on, grinning when he sees Ian. “Hey, fuckface.”

Ian snorts and nods at him. “You clean up nice.”

“Fuck you.”

Ian plops down on the fancy couch, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He holds them out to Lip. “Want one?”

“Nah, Ella will kill me if I smell like smoke. Fiona too for that matter.”

Ian makes a face then puts the cigarettes up. “Yeah, Fiona’s on a rampage so we do not want that.”

Lip raises his eyebrows then turns to look at himself in front of the mirror, fidgeting with his tie and sleeves.

“How are you feeling?” Ian asks, watching him. “Nervous?”

“Excited. Ready to get this over. This place is way too fancy for me.”

“Yeah, Yev’s been complaining that his suit is too itchy.”

Lip snorts. “But hey, it’s what Ella wants.”

“Yeah.” Ian continues watching, really wishing he could smoke. “So you aren’t nervous at all?”

“No, man. Why would I be? She’s my soulmate and I love her. I want this with her.”

Ian stands up and straightens Lip’s tie, clapping his shoulders when he’s done. “I’m happy for you. I really am. Ella’s great.”

“So is Mickey. Don’t fuck it up,” Lip tells him.

“Don’t plan on it.”

The actual wedding goes by fast. The longest part is the processional of family members. Ian helps Lip and Carl escort Ella’s family then it’s the Gallaghers turn. Carl escorts Debbie first with Liam following. After Debbie is seated, Carl and Liam walk to stand under arch by the minister. Then Ian escorts Mickey and Yevgeny. When Ella first asked Mickey if he wanted to be in processional, everyone was surprised but it only made sense. Ella and Mickey became very close, being the two outsiders of the crazy Gallagher family. Ian squeezes Mickey’s arm before joining Carl and Liam. Then Lip escorts Fiona down the aisle. She is smiling, squeezing Lip’s arm to stop from crying. Lip hugs her and kisses her cheek when they get to her chair.

Ian stops paying attention after that. He stares at Mickey the whole time and Mickey stares back. He wants this with him. He can see it. Both of them in tuxes, Mandy standing by Mickey, Lip by him. Yevgeny whining over his tux. Svetlana glaring but secretly happy. Fiona and Debbie crying in the front. He wants it all.

The reception is when the Gallaghers come to life. Debbie and Carl get drunk and sing some ridiculous pop song. Ian laughs, secretly recording it to use later. Finally Lip has had enough and tackles Carl to the ground when Carl starts singing a terrible song that has Ella turning red. Debbie squeals then laughs too loudly. Fiona pulls her off the stage and into a chair with a glass of water. She motions for Ian and he pulls away from Mickey to watch over his younger siblings as Fiona goes back on stage.

“I’m going to apologize for the behavior of my sister and brother,” she says, picking her champagne flute up. “Although, this speech might not be better than their singing.” A few people laugh and Fiona takes a sip. “I’m going to speak for my brother, Ian, and I. Lip asked us both to do a speech but Ian left it all to me. He felt like making fun of Lip as a wedding speech would be a bad idea.” More people laugh at that. She stops and turns to where Lip and Liam have gathered by Debbie, Carl, and Ian. “Those who know us, know that we haven’t had it easy. You know that my siblings are my kids. I raised them. I’ve been there for it all and I’m so proud of each and every one of them.” She takes another sip and a deep breath. “I don’t know a lot about romantic love. I didn’t have good luck with that. But it can’t be much different than familiar love. Love isn’t just passion. Love is trust. It’s taking care of each other. It’s checking in just because you’re thinking of the other. Love is fighting and scary. It’s being there for each other. It’s comfort.” She pauses and looks at Lip and Ella, who has walked over to join Lip. Ian looks over his shoulder at Mickey. Mickey is holding Yevgeny up to see. He spots Ian looking and smiles. “Lip and Ella, trust each other. Talk to each other. Be there for each other. I love you both so much and wish you all the happiness.”

Everyone cheers and takes a drink. Lip pulls Fiona in for a hug when she walks down the stage. Ian hugs Ella then heads over to Mickey and Yevgeny.

“Hey,” he says when he reaches them.

“Hey,” Mickey says, placing Yevgeny down. Yevgeny runs over to Fiona and climbs into her arms, probably demanding cake or to get out of his suit. Mickey chuckles and shakes his head. “He’s not going to sleep tonight.”

Ian hums. “He can stay with Fiona tonight.”

Mickey laughs and nods at Ian’s comment. He looks at Ian’s face and starts biting his thumbnail. “Hey, about the other night.”

Ian shakes his head. “Not now. Let’s dance.” Ian drags him to the dance floor, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close.

“We can’t avoid this conversation, Ian,” Mickey says. When Ian shakes his head again, Mickey squeezes his hands. “Listen, when I said marriage was a piece of paper, I didn’t mean it. It’s just with my past and Svetlana, I’m scared. I don’t want to lose this. Us.”

“Mick-”

“And look at all the marriages in our lives. Your parents. My parents. And they were soulmates. If they can’t do it, why can we? I’m just scared but I do love you, Ian. I want to be with you. I’m all in,” Mickey continues, squeezing Ian.

Ian grins. “I know. I want to be with you too. Always. So marriage is off the table.”

“For now,” Mickey adds, making Ian grin even wider and pull him in for a kiss.

“For now,” he repeats when he pulls away, resting his forehead against Mickey’s.

They fly back to Chicago a few days later. They fall back into their normal routine with Yevgeny bouncing back and forth between their apartment and Svetlana’s. They don’t talk about marriage again. They are happy just being together.

One afternoon in early fall, Ian is trying to sleep. He’s been on night shift for the past few days and is exhausted. He’s glad Yevgeny is at Svetlana’s this weekend so he can catch up on sleep. Mickey knew how tired he was and went with Iggy so Ian could have the house to himself.

He groans when he hears his phone go off. There’s no way it’s time for him to get up. He rubs his eyes and answers it without looking at the number. “Hello?”

  “Ian Gallagher?”

“Yeah?”

  “This is Dr. McDowell. I’m calling to inform you that Mikhailo Milkovich has been in a car wreck.

Ian jumps up. “What?”

  “He is at Mercy Hospital.”

The doctor hangs up before Ian can get another word out. He looks around the room, trying to figure out what to do.  One thing at a time, Gallagher , he thinks. He grabs a random pair of pants and shirt and is out the door in no time.

Ian can’t breathe as he pulls up to the emergency room. He runs through the doors and to the front desk.

“Can I help you?” The nurse asks, not looking up.

“Uh- I’m looking for Mickey, uh Mikhailo Milkovich. He was in a car accident,” Ian rambles.

The nurse types quickly. “He arrived about an hour ago.”

Ian lets out a small breath of relief. “Is he okay?”

“Relation to the patient?”

“I’m his partner,” Ian answers, tapping his fingers rapidly against the counter.

“Are you married?” The nurses asks, looking up. Ian notices her eyes glancing to his right wrist on the counter and he wishes he was wearing a long sleeve shirt to hide the zeros. He jerks his hand off the counter but it’s too late. She has seen the zeros.

“Uh, no, we’re not.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t tell you about Mr. Milkovich unless you’re married, soulmates, or family,” The nurse tells him.

“Seriously? We’ve been together for three years, almost four.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t tell you anything,” The nurse gives him a small smile.

“Shit,” Ian mumbles, turning away from the nurse's station. “Shit, shit, shit.” He struggles to pull his phone out of his pocket, his hand shaking slightly. Finally getting it out of his pocket and almost dropping it, he unlocks it and calls Mandy.

“Hey! What’s up?”  Mandy’s warm voice greets him.  “I thought you were sleeping all day.”

“Mickey was in an accident and I can’t find out how he is because we aren’t married or soulmates and I need you here right now.”

  “Ian, breathe. Slow down and tell me again.”

“Mickey was in an accident, Mandy,” Ian starts again. “And they won’t tell me how he is because we aren’t married. Mandy, I need you here, please.”

  “Shit. Fuck, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Call Fiona and Svetlana. You don’t need to be there waiting alone.”

Ian shakes his head then realizes she can’t see him. “I can’t call Svet. She has Yev and he doesn’t need to be here.”

  “Ian, call them, okay? And stay calm for Mickey. I’ll be there soon.”

Ian hangs up with Mandy and does as she says, calling Fiona and Svetlana. Fiona is there in less than ten minutes, pulling him in for a bear hug immediately.

“How are you, sweetface?” she asks, sitting next to him and placing her hand on his knee to try to get it to stop shaking.

“They won’t tell me anything, Fi. I have no idea how bad it is. I feel sick,” Ian mumbles.

Fiona squeezes his knee, giving him an encouraging smile. “I’m sure he’s going to be just fine.”

“I just don’t understand why they won’t tell me anything. It’s a stupid fucking rule. I’m his emergency contact! I deserve to know!” Ian rambles.

Fiona pulls his head to lean against her shoulder. “I know, baby, I know. But Mandy will be here soon and we’ll find out.”

“This wouldn’t be a problem if we were married.”

Fiona stops rubbing his hair and lifts his head to look at him. “You’ve been thinking about marriage?”

“We discussed it some at Lip’s wedding. Mickey’s afraid because of what he went through with Svet. And I’m okay with it, as long as I’m with him.” Ian sighs. “But this is fucked up. He’s my partner. He’s it for me and I can’t find out what’s wrong!”

“Oh, sweetface,” Fiona places her head on his shoulder and grabs his hand, squeezing it.

“Ian!” Yevgeny runs through the automatic doors and straight into his arms.

“Hey, bud,” Ian greets, hugging him tightly.

“How’s Daddy?” he asks.

“I don’t know, bud, they won’t tell me,” Ian answers, rubbing the little boy’s back.

“Where is he?” Svetlana comes busting through the doors and immediately heads to the nurse’s station.

Ian places Yevgeny in Fiona’s arms and heads up with Svetlana to the desk.

“My ex-husband is hurt. You will tell me how he is,” Svetlana glares at the nurse. “Mickey Milkovich.”

“Relation to the patient?” The nurse asks, her eyes wide.

“Ex-wife.” She raises her eyebrows, her anger at the woman growing. She just said ex-husband.

“I’m sorry, ma’am but I cannot give out any patients’ information unless you are currently married, soulmates, or family,” The nurse says slowly.

“We have a son!” Svetlana yells, pointing to Yevgeny in Fiona’s lap.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t-”

“I’m here!” Mandy runs through the doors and up to them. “Mickey Milkovich. I’m his sister,” she pants, pulling her ID out and slamming it on the table.

The nurse raises her eyebrows and then looks down at the ID to confirm Mandy’s relation. When she is satisfied, she glances down at her computer, typing rapidly. “He’s in surgery on the 2nd floor. They can tell you more there.”

“Surgery?” Ian’s eyes widen and Mandy puts her arm around him, squeezing him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Let’s go up to the 2nd floor and find out more,” Mandy whispers.

Ian nods and follows Mandy up to the 2nd floor. He doesn’t even notice if Fiona and Svetlana are behind them. On the 2nd floor, Mandy stomps up to the nurse’s station and demands any information about Mickey. Ian feels a small hand in his and looks down at Yevgeny. He smiles at him, squeezing his hand, then turning back to listen to the nurse explain that Mickey had internal bleeding. After the nurse explains that the doctor will be out to see them when the surgery is over, Ian lets out a breath of relief. He picks Yevgeny up and walks to the waiting room, sitting down in the uncomfortable seats.

“Debbie, Carl, and Liam are on their way. Lip got caught up at work. He’s going to head over after,” Fiona tells him, sitting beside him.

Mandy takes the other seat next to him. “He’s going to be okay, Ian.”

“Yeah,” he whispers.

Ian doesn’t know how long they sit in silence. Yevgeny ends up curling in his lap and falling asleep. Debbie, Carl, and Liam show up but Ian doesn’t pay attention. He watches the front desk, watching for any movement, for the doctor to show. He doesn’t know how much time has passed when the doctor finally comes out asking for Mickey’s family. Ian immediately stands, handing Yevgeny to Fiona and follows Mandy and Svetlana to the doctor.

“Surgery went great. He’s doing great. His spleen was compressed by the force of the hit and the lining of the spleen was torn, and the bleeding spilled into the peritoneum. It was an easy procedure and we were able to repair the spleen. Mr. Milkovich is very lucky,” The doctor tells them.

"In English, please?" Mandy snares.

Ian releases the breathe he was holding. “He's okay, Mands. Can we see him?”

“Family only right now,” The doctor responds.

“I’m his partner,” Ian says.

“Soulmates?” Ian shakes his head. “Married?” Ian shakes his head again. “I’m sorry, sir, unless you two are married or soulmates, you cannot see him just yet.”

“Well, when can I see him?”  Ian demands, his face red with anger. Mandy reaches over and squeezes his hand, trying to calm him down.

“When he wakes up and we check him over. It could be a couple of hours,” The doctor tells him.

“I’ll wait,” Ian says. He turns to Mandy. “Go check on him?”

Mandy squeezes him hand again. “Of course.”

“I’ll let you know when you can see Mr. Milkovich,” The doctor tells Ian before walking away.

“Do you want me to take Yev?” Mandy asks Svetlana.

“Ian takes him,” she answers, nodding at Ian.

“Okay,” Mandy nods. She pulls Ian into a hug and whispers to him. “He’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah, I know. If he wakes up, tell him I’ll be there soon.”

“I will.” Mandy squeezes him one more time before letting go and heading to Mickey’s room.

He walks back over to the uncomfortable seats and takes Yevgeny back from Fiona. The little boy doesn’t wake up, just curls closer to Ian. Svetlana joins him on the other side, running her hands through the boy’s hair. Ian doesn’t know how much longer they sit there. Lip and Ella show up sometime. Lip claps Ian on the shoulder and gives him an encouraging smile but Ian doesn’t say anything. Finally, Mandy comes back out, beaming, with the doctor following her. Ian carefully hands Yevgeny to Svetlana and jumps up.

“He’s awake and asking for you,” The doctor says, closing his file. “You’re free to see him.”

“Yeah?”

Mandy nods, excitedly, her smile lighting up her whole face. “Yeah!”

“For one hour, Mr. Gallagher. He needs rest,” The doctor tells him.

Ian grins, turning around to see Yevgeny awake and sitting up in Svetlana’s lap, watching him with his big, blue eyes. “Yev? Come on, let’s go see Dad.”

Yevgeny jumps off his mom’s lap and runs to him, grabbing his hand. “Is Daddy okay?”

“Daddy’s going to fine, don’t worry,” Ian assures him, squeezing his hand and leading him down the hall. He quietly opens the door to Mickey’s room and the two quietly walk in.

“It’s about fucking time,” Mickey grumbles when he sees them.

He doesn’t look as bad as Ian thought which is another relief. He’s sitting up slightly with three pillows behind his back and an IV hooked up in one arm. He’s paler with a few scratches on his face but looks fine.

“Daddy!” Yevgeny goes to climb up on the bed but Ian stops him, picking him up.

“Careful, Yev, Daddy just had surgery,” Ian reminds him.

“Let him up here, man,” Mickey grumbles, shifting over slowly. He pats the small section next to him and Ian slowly lets Yevgeny down. Yevgeny hugs Mickey tightly, curling up to his side. Mickey leans down to kiss the top of his head. He looks up at Ian, smirking. “What? No kiss? I almost died.”

Yevgeny gasps causing both Mickey and Ian to chuckle. Ian leans over Yevgeny and kiss him. “Fuck, I’m so glad you’re okay. You had me worried sick.”

“Yeah, I can tell. You look like shit,” Mickey says. Ian groans, rubbing his hair and trying to get it to lay down. “Now you know how I feel when you go to work.”

Ian glares at him, pulling up a chair. “What the fuck happened, Mick?”

“Iggy wanted me to test drive a car with him. Everything was going fine until some fucker ran a red light. Airbag caused most of the damage.” Ian hisses at the thought. “Fucker ran off when the cops came. Mandy says the asshole’s fine.”

Ian rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair. He really wants to kill Iggy for leaving Mickey like that. He watches Yevgeny play with Mickey’s blanket then curl into his side, his eyes dropping. “I got here as soon as I could. The nurse won’t tell me anything because we aren’t married or soulmates. I had to wait for Mandy to get here.”

“Wait, what? Are you fucking kidding me?” Mickey looks up from watching Yevgeny, his jaw clenching.

Ian shakes his head. “I tried, Svet tried. They wouldn’t budge.”

“That’s a stupid fucking rule,” Mickey grumbles.

“It doesn’t matter now. All that matters is you’re safe,” Ian reaches out and grabs the hand that’s not around Yevgeny.

“Yeah, it fucking does. What if you can’t get in touch with Mandy next time? My brothers are unreliable fuckers. I mean, Iggy running up while I was injured attests to that. What if you’re in an accident and I can’t get in touch with all your family? What if Yevgeny is in an accident and you can’t get in touch with me or Svetlana? And you have no way of knowing if he’s okay. ” Mickey rants.

“Well, let’s hope none of that ever happens.”

“But what if it does? And just because we aren’t fucking soulmates?”

Ian raises his eyebrows. “Mickey, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying we get married.”

Ian almost falls out of his chair. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I am. Let’s bite the bullet, man,” Mickey says. “And none of that party crap like your brother had. Just you, me, and this little guy at the courthouse.”

“But you said you were scared.

“And I still am but I fucking love you. Love is a scary, right? But it’s you and me. What’s so scary about that?”

“Mandy will hate if we go to the courthouse,” Ian grins. “So will Fiona. Debbie might kill us.”

“Who cares,” Mickey shrugs. “As soon as I’m out of here, we’re going to the courthouse.”

A nurse quietly knocks on the door and enters. “Mr. Gallagher? Your time is up. Mr. Milkovich needs his rest.”

“Come on, just a little longer,” Mickey begs, yawning.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Milkovich,” the nurse smiles slightly at them then motions for Ian to get moving.

Ian sighs, standing up and slowly picking Yevgeny up without waking him. He shifts the boy in his arms then kisses Mickey. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Mickey mumbles, yawning again. “As soon as I’m out.”

“I promise. Now, get some rest,” Ian whispers then follows the nurse out of the room.

The next morning, Ian arrives at the hospital with Svetlana and Yevgeny right when visiting hours start. This time the nurse doesn’t give them any trouble and lets them go straight back to Mickey’s room. Mickey is sitting up watching an old black and white show on the small TV. Yevgeny squeals and climbs on the bed, ignoring both Svetlana and Ian’s protests.

“Morning,” Ian greets, leaning down to kiss him quickly then stands up straight, showing him a bag of fast food. “We thought you might be hungry.”

“Finally, some decent food,” Mickey yanks the bag out of his hand and barely has the wrapper off the biscuit before stuffing it in his face, causing Yevgeny to giggle.

Svetlana scoffs, pulling a chair up and sitting down. “You eat like a pig.”

Yevgeny giggles even louder, stealing a hash brown out of the bag.

“Any news on when you are getting released?” Ian asks.

“The nurse thinks some time today,” Mickey says his mouth full of food.

“Pig,” Svetlana mumbles under her breath. Yevgeny starts giggling again.

Mickey raises his eyebrows and looks over at Ian. “Why is she here?”

Ian shrugs. “She wanted to see you.”

“She’s going to mess up our plans,” Mickey mumbles.

“What plans?” Svetlana perks up.

“Nothing,” Mickey and Ian answer together.

“You are father of child. What plans?”

Mickey looks over at Ian. “She’ll call your family and mess everything up.”

“No, she won’t. Plus we need a witness besides Yevgeny. He can’t exactly sign the thing,” Ian says, nodding to the boy who is currently digging through Mickey’s bag in search of hashbrowns. “But it’s up to you.”

“What. Plans.” Svetlana demands, glaring at them.

Mickey sighs. “Fine. Ian and I are going to the courthouse as soon as I’m released. We’re getting hitched.”

“What’s hitched?” Yevgeny asks, his mouth full of hashbrowns.

“Close your mouth when you chew, Yev,” Ian tells him. “Your dad and I are getting married.”

“Cool!”

“I come with,” Svetlana answers, the corner of her mouth turning up slightly.

“We aren’t telling anyone until after. We just want a small affair,” Mickey glares at her, not wanting her to ruin their plans.

Svetlana nods in agreement. She brushes the crumbs off Yevgeny and Mickey’s bed then takes the empty bag to throw away. “I’m happy for you,” she says after a while.

“Thanks, Svet,” Ian grins.

Mickey is released around lunchtime and it could not come any sooner as he’s complaining the whole time. The nurse tries to explain how to take care of the bandages but Mickey just waves off her and tells her Ian can do it. Finally, he is in the clothes Ian brought him and they are off to the courthouse.

The ceremony is quick. They don’t have rings and just exchange the normal, standard vows. Yevgeny squeals when the judge announces them married and jumps into Ian’s arms. Mickey is glad Svetlana is there when she takes pictures but after the twentieth pictures, he grumbles and makes them leave.

“What do I call Ian now?” Yevgeny asks as they drive to the Gallagher’s. With Mickey’s accident, Fiona found an excuse to throw a family dinner. She invited Mandy and Derek and Kev and V. “Can I call him Dad?”

“You can call me whatever you want, Yev,” Ian answers. “If you still want to call me Ian, I’m fine with it. Or you can call me Dad.”

Yevgeny puts his chin in his hand, looking up to think for a minute. “I want to call you Dad. Now I have two dads and a mom!”

“Glad you’re happy about it, kid,” Mickey grins, ruffling his hair. “Now, let’s go deal with all your new aunts and uncles.”

“But Dad, they’ve been my aunts and uncles for a few years now,” Yevgeny says in a real serious manner. Mickey just laughs and throws his arm around him when they get out of the car.

The Gallaghers, Kev, V, Mandy, and Derek are standing outside the Gallagher house waiting for them. Yevgeny jumps out, running to play with Kev and V’s twins. Fiona pulls Mickey in for a hug then drags him inside where she has food waiting. Mickey takes the plate of food and starts eating, the biscuit long gone. Ian finds his way beside him, placing a hand on his lower back.

“Yev’s probably going to tell everyone before we get a chance,” Ian whispers.

“Let’s just tell then.” Mickey clears his throat. “Hey, everyone, listen up!”

Everyone had gathered inside the small kitchen, reaching for plates and drinks. When Mickey yells, they stop what they’re doing and turn around.

“Ian and I got married today. Now, continue eating or whatever,” Mickey waves his hand then starts eating again.

There’s silence for a moment as everyone process the news then Debbie screeches and bounds towards them to hug them but Ian stops before she gets to them.

“Debs, he just had surgery,” he warns.

“Right, sorry. I’m just so happy!” she squeals, throwing her arms around Ian’s neck and pulling him close.

Ian sees Fiona grin and give him a thumbs up. Debbie pulls away from Ian and gives Mickey a quick, gentle hug. “Congratulations, you guys!”

“Thanks, Debs,” Ian grins.

Debbie beams then slaps Ian on the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For not inviting us!” Debbie yells.

“Yeah, why didn’t you tell us?” Carl yells.

“It just happened,” Ian explains.

“Weddings don’t just happen,” Debbie glares. She turns to Fiona, her hands on her hips. “Can you believe this?”

Fiona shakes her head and makes her over to them, pulling Ian in for a hug then Mickey. “I’m so happy for you two. But I am a little upset I wasn’t there. I mean, did anyone take pictures? And you guys don’t even have rings!”

“Or cake!” Liam says. “Every wedding needs a cake.” Yevgeny nods at Liam’s comment and starts demanding cake.

Fiona smirks, her hands on her hips. “Well if you didn’t invite us to your wedding, let us throw you a party. Gallagher style.”

“Oh no,” Ian groans.

Fiona claps her hands. “Alright, Gallaghers, we need a cake, decorations, alcohol, and rings. Lip?”

“I got that rings,” Lip winks at Ian. Ian groans, hiding his face in Mickey’s neck.

“Alcohol on us,” Kev says, pointing to himself and V.

“Liam and I can go get a cake,” Debbie says.

“Great. Carl, you’re with me, Mandy, and Derek on decorations. Everyone back here in an hour! Go, go, go!” Fiona yells.

Everyone starts running out, talking all at once. Fiona gives Ian and Mickey one last look before she’s out the door with Mandy, Derek, and Carl.

“So much for no party,” Mickey grumbles.

Svetlana laughs at his comment and starts fixing a plate for Yevgeny. “You should have known better. They like to party for anything.”

A little over an hour later, the party is in full swing and the whole neighborhood joins in. Ian’s coworkers even show up. The music is loud. The house is crowded. Ian loses Mickey in all the chaos. He can’t get away from all the screaming people and his clingy little sister. Then Frank pops in, confused at the chaos at first but then joins in when someone hands him a beer, not questioning an excuse to party.

“I cannot believe you got married without us there,” Debbie cries, leaning against the counter for support. “I mean, we’re family.”

Ian looks over the heads of the crowd, trying to spot Mickey. He groans. “Debs, have you seen Mickey?”

“Don’t you love us? Lip flew us to South Carolina. I saw a Carolina,” Debbie continues, clearly too drunk to listen to him. “But it’s so beautiful, you know? You two lost your soulmates and found each other. It’s so beautiful. I wish I could find my soulmate. Or someone.” Her eyes glaze over and she looks down at the wrapping on her right wrist.

“Jesus Christ. You’re useless,” Ian rolls his eyes at her rant and makes his way through the crowd, searching for his husband.

“Ian!” V stops him, flinging her arms around him. “I’m so happy for you. Mickey is great and wonderful. I love you both so much!”

“Thanks, V. Have you seen Mickey?”

V looks around, frowning. “No?”

Ian pulls away from her, patting her arm as he leaves. He continues to make his way to the front door, being stopped by a new person every few seconds. Mandy kisses him then yells at him. Derek pulls her off Ian then starts yelling at Ian for her before tripping over someone and falling on his ass. Mandy squeals and attempts to help him up. Ian shakes his head and finally makes it to the front door and outside, breathing in the fall air.

“Hey, there he is! The groom!”

Ian turns and groans as Carl and Lip make their way over, each throwing an arm around him. “Guys, have you seen Mickey?”

“No but question. Was Mickey the bride?” Lip asks with a straight face, pointing at Ian with a beer in his hand. Before Ian can open his mouth, Lip starts laughing at his own question.

Ian rolls his eyes, pushing Lip’s hand out of his face. “Fuck off, Lip. No, we were both the grooms.”

Carl furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t get it.”

“Fuck you two,” Ian pushes away from them, running down the stairs.

“No, wait wait!” Lip yells after him. Ian turns back to him, waiting. Lip reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvet box. “Here are the rings. I think Fiona wanted to do something with you two or whatever. But find Mickey before she can.”

“Thanks, Lip,” Ian says, taking the box.

Lip smiles. Suddenly, he pales, his eyes widen. Carl, knowing exactly what’s going to happen, runs into the house yelling for Ella. Lip barely makes it to the bushes before he starts puking. Ian crinkles his nose, going over to pat his brother’s back.

“Fuck, man. I think you might be done for the night,” he says.

Lip tries to flip him off while puking but he can’t seem to get his fingers to work. The front door opens again and Ella runs down the stairs to take Ian’s place.

“Shit, Lip. I told you to go easy,” she says, rubbing his back.

“He’s all yours, El,” Ian says, stepping back.

“Thanks, Ian.”

“Have you seen Mickey by any chance?” he asks, knowing Mickey and Ella usually gravitate towards each other when there’s a party at the Gallaghers.

“He’s around back by the pool,” Ella answers. “It’s a little crazy in there.”

“Yeah it is. Thanks, Ella.”

Ella smiles at him and Ian takes off around back, rubbing his arms to warm up. He really wishes he remembered to grab a jacket. He finds Mickey sitting on the stairs, leaning against one of the beams, smoking.

“Hey,” Ian smiles, walking towards him.

“Fucking finally. I tried looking for you but gave up about thirty minutes ago,” Mickey says.

“Yeah, sorry. It got a little crazy in there.”

“You think?”

Ian laughs, sitting on the stair below him. He pulls the box out of his pocket that Lip gave him and sets it on Mickey’s knee.

“What’s this?” Mickey asks, picking up the box.

“The rings Lip picked up. I haven’t looked at them yet.”

Mickey makes a small humming noise then moves so Ian can join him on his stair. Ian moves up one, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Mickey. They open the box together. Ian smiles when he sees the rings and really wishes Lip wasn’t currently puking his guts out.

“Your brother did pretty good,” Mickey says.

“Yeah, well he should. I showed him these same rings when we got back from his wedding. I gave him the money to pick them up for me while I was working,” Ian tells him, picking one of the rings up and rubbing it between his fingers.

“What?”

“I know at his wedding we said marriage was off the table but I walked by these and knew they were it. I was hoping you would change your mind. Didn’t realize it would be so soon.”

Mickey picks up the other ring, twirling it around. The rings are simple, gray brushed tungsten rings. They were perfect. “Shit, Gallagher.”

“Gallagher-Milkovich,” Ian corrects, bumping his shoulder against Mickey’s.

Mickey rolls his eyes then turns towards him. Well as much as he could on the small stairs. He grabs Ian’s left hand. Ian figures out what he’s doing and turns to him, grinning.

“Should we say something or?” Mickey asks, looking between the ring and Ian’s hand.

Ian shrugs. “I mean, we’re already married.”

“You’re right.” Mickey slides the ring on Ian’s ring finger.

Ian grins, taking Mickey’s left hand and sliding the ring he was holding on his finger. He intertwines their fingers and lifts Mickey’s hand up to kiss it.

“Soft,” Mickey says, grinning. He hisses when he moves to get up.

Ian jumps up immediately. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just remembered I was in a fucking car crash and had surgery.”

“Alright, I think that’s enough partying for one night. Let’s go home.”

They hunt down Svetlana and Yevgeny and try to sneak away without Fiona noticing. Frank catches them on their way out, trying to throw his arm around Ian’s shoulder. He gives up and throws it around Mickey’s instead.

“Don’t let him go. The crazier the better,” Frank mumbles.

Mickey rolls his eyes and brushes Frank off. “Fuck you, Frank.”

Ian tugs Mickey towards him. “Jesus, Frank, just go away.”

Frank sways a little but smiles at them, nodding at their wrists. “You two broke the universe. It says one thing but you proved it wrong.”

Ian’s eyes soften at Frank’s words. “Wow. Um, thanks, Frank.”

Frank claps his shoulder then turns around, yelling to see if anyone has any drugs.

“And that’s our cue,” Ian says, motioning them out.

Marriage doesn’t change anything. The only big change is Ian can now add Mickey to his insurance but they are still Ian and Mickey. At first, Ian’s afraid something is going to change. Like something will be ripped out from underneath them and everything will fall apart but it never does.

A year into their marriage, they buy a house. It’s a few blocks from Fiona’s and needs work. Together with the Gallaghers, Mandy, Derek, Kev, V, and Svetlana, they fix it up. It takes months but when it’s finally done, it’s beautiful. They have a long discussion with Svetlana about Yevgeny. The moving between houses is getting harder for the kid and hates when he has to leave one of the houses. So Svetlana sells her house and moves in with Ian and Mickey. They become an unconventional family but it works for them.

There is still a nagging feeling in the back of Ian’s mind and doesn’t know what it is until Lip and Ella announce they’re having a baby. Ian is so happy that he’s going to be an uncle but that night as he is lying next to Mickey, he realizes what is nagging him. He doesn’t say anything to Mickey for a while. But when Mandy and Derek announce their engagement and their pregnancy, the nagging reaches its limit.

They are sitting at the table one night, pouring over bills. Svetlana has her calculator out, fixing the budget. They can hear Yevgeny in the living room watching TV.

“So, does this mean we have to throw Mandy an engagement party and a baby shower? What if we just did one?” Mickey asks, looking through Mandy’s registry online while flipping through the bills and handing them to Ian. “And what about your brother? Is Fiona and Debbie doing that one? Do we need to help? That’s a lot of fucking gifts.”

“I want a baby.” The ball drops. There’s no turning back now.

Svetlana stops punching numbers and looks at Ian, her glasses slipping from her nose. She looks over at Mickey who is frozen. “This does not involve me,” she says before slipping out of the kitchen.

“I-uh-what?” Mickey says, slowly placing the bills down and closing his laptop. “I-Ian, what?”

“I want a baby. I mean, we can adopt or even have a surrogate or something. Maybe even foster? But I want a kid,” Ian says. “I know we have Yevgeny and I love him so much but we got together when he was four. Now he’s almost ten. I missed four years of his life. I want to raise a baby. With you. And maybe Svet. I don’t know all the details yet because I want to discuss them with you and you agree first, obviously. But-”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Breathe, Ian,” Mickey covers Ian’s mouth with his hand, forcing him to stop. “A kid? Really?” Ian nods as Mickey slowly lowers his hand. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Since Ella got pregnant.”

“You’ve been sitting on this for seven months?” Ian nods and Mickey whistles, sitting back in his chair. “Is Yevgeny not too much for you?”

“Mick, Yev is the perfect kid. He makes straight A’s, does everything we tell him, doesn’t make a fuss. I think we can handle another.”

Mickey crosses his arms and stares at him for what feels like hours to Ian. “You don’t want to adopt.” It’s not a question. Mickey knows him. Better than anyone. Ian shakes his head. “So I guess we need to find a surrogate.”

Ian’s face breaks into a grin. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, let’s have a baby.”

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 67

Chapter Summary - Nacelle and Becky go through with their promise to bring Danielle shopping.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe​ @wolfsmom1​

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

"No!"

"Three reasons," Nacelle compromised.

"My ass, my stomach, my legs." Danielle listed.

"I like how you didn't say your breasts."

"I know my selling points," Becky and Nacelle laughed at that. "But in all seriousness, no."

"Danni, you have to actually buy something, I mean you lucked out on Tom finding out you had that dress, but you can't wear it to everything, trust me, they will be wanting your blood for any little thing, don't hand it to them."

"I rather they focus on that than the stuff that actually would upset me."

Becky made a noise of agreement. "Still, you need clothes."

"I have clothes."

"You need clothes the SARC's can see you in."

"SARC's?" Danielle eyed her worriedly, "What's a SARC?"

"Spoiled and Rich Clique," Nacelle answered, looking at another dress.

"Seriously? What are you, twelve? Wait, are one of you going to tell me we only wear pink on Wednesdays now?"

Both women erupted in laughter at her for that. "Okay, I can see why Nacelle came home talking about you, you're hilarious!" Becky laughed as the sales assistant came over. "Great, can we try these on her please?" she asked politely pointing to Danielle.

The sales assistant looked to Danielle and her eyes widened slightly before she raked them over her. "I'm not sure these are the styles for someone of such…proportions." Danielle felt herself redden, though, with anger or upset, she was not sure.

"Well then, can we speak to a manager please," Nacelle asked, her tone just millimetres from a demand.

"She is on break, can I relay a message?"

"Sure," the three women looked to Danielle, who schooled her face into the greatest 'fuck you' smile she could muster. "Ask her if it is usual practice to turn away customers based on their size, yet still stock said sizes, seeing as we are holding dresses that are designed for my height and shape, and those that are slightly longer can actually be taken up, I am sure she could recommend a tailor that is somewhat connected to your store, because you and I both know that all these little boutiques tend to have such practices. And then ask her is there particular currency that is required to shop here," She reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty-pound note. "Since you are acting as though my money, which dons the words Bank of England on them, same as every other pound, and if I am not mistaken, that is your Queen that is on it too, isn’t it, is not the correct tender? So if this is the currency of the State, and you don't seem to trade in it, could you tell me what one you do?"

"Well...I…? The fitting rooms are back here." the flustered woman stated, having thought that Danielle was someone who could be embarrassed out of the shop rather than argue her corner.

"You are a Grade A Sass-Bitch," Becky smiled as she handed Danielle the dress for her to try first. "It's beautiful to witness."

"Aw, thank you." She grinned. "Seriously, this is going to be way too tight on my ass."

"Good, it will show that there is something to balance those boobs." Nacelle joked.

"I feel so objectified," Danielle stated dramatically before all three women laughed again. "Jesus this is not going to work."

"Why?" Nacelle looked in. "Okay, that's because you have to unzip it."

"Not happening, I look like something off an MTV trash show."

"It's six hundred pounds," Nacelle argued.

"Money is not something those people worry about, you can have money and be trash."

"Yeah, speaking of which, how are you on the whole last summer thing, I mean, he's nice and all but…" Nacelle looked around but Becky shook her head, to say no one was nearby. "That…?"

"Episode?" Danielle suggested.

"Best word for it really."

"Look, I am going to say the same thing to you as I did his sisters, mum and friends, not my business, it was before me."

"Good response from a saying nothing point of view, the only thing is, I can see your disapproval on your face." Becky pointed out.

"I made my feelings clear on it at the time, but I am not going to dwell on it," Danielle stated, walking around slightly to see if she was comfortable in it. "Is it a little short?" she looked at the back of it.

"No, you just can't bend over, next one." Nacelle stated pushing her back into the dressing room.

A couple of hours and close to two thousand pounds later, which cut into Danielle's money more than she wanted, they left the last boutique but she had to agree, Nacelle and Becky had made her look more the part of the girlfriend of a serious actor.

"I am bolloxed, I would be happy to have a curry tonight," Nacelle commented as they sat on the bus. "Babe, Chinese or Indian?"

"Indian, but you can get it while I get those emails sent," Becky replied.

"Deal, Danni, you want anything?"

"No, I'll get something when I get back, I'm not too hungry." She gave a polite smile as she spoke.

"You know I have physically heard your stomach rumble less than ten minutes ago," Nacelle pointed out. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Danielle shook her head.

"Bullshit, something annoying you." Nacelle eyed her carefully. "It was that bitch calling you out for not being a stick insect, wasn't it?"

"I'm working on it." Danielle shrugged. "I mean, I like me, and I have no issue with how I look, but I just…it upsets me that people go out of their way to say those things just to make you feel shit, you know?"

"Yes, and no. Yes, I know because people go out of their way to try and take us down and weight is something so many struggle with, and no, because that particular attack is one I have not born the brunt of, yet, but remember one thing." She leant in close. "I saw her phone, she is with some guy who does duck face poses when taking photo's and questionable fashion sense, you get to go home and curl up in bed with Tom Fucking Hiddleston, who's the real winner there?" Danielle gave a faint smile. "I got you something by the way." She frowned as Nacelle handed her a bag with VS on it. "Because of you I have a few extra bookings, so this is your commission."

"Wait, you bought my underwear as a thank you? Is that not a bit odd?" Danielle laughed, looking into the Victoria's Secrets bag. "When did you get this?"

"I didn't, Becks did while you were getting those shoes." Nacelle smiled. "I wanted to get you something you would enjoy and well, Tom will make sure you enjoy when he sees you in them."

"Nacelle!"

"Can I ask, is it true, you know, the 'Conda'?"

"I am not talking about this." Danielle laughed in embarrassment.

"You forget two things, girl. One, you are a terrible actress, and two, when we were in Wales, I was the one that noted you walking around like a peacock after his visit and a slightly sore one at that." Nacelle laughed.

"Why are we friends?"

"Because you need someone around you as bitchy and honest as you are."

Danielle nodded slightly. "That's true." at that moment, she realised that Tom had texted a while before. "Tom's done for the day and wants to know if I'll grab something on the way back, he doesn't want to cook, I know that feeling."

"Is he at home?" Becky questioned.

"Yeah, he said he took Mac for a small trot there, I took him out earlier, but he took him out again there." Danielle smiled.

"Tell him to come to ours, no fancy dinner, just four people and some take-out."

Danielle looked at her for a moment. "Are you sure, we would never…"

"Seriously, that's a great idea, Becky and I are going to be so busy soon, you are going off somewhere else and Tom has his monkey movie you were talking about."

"King Kong is not some 'monkey movie'." Danielle laughed, but as she did she pressed the call button on her phone.

"Hello beautiful, are you having a nice day?" Tom's slightly tired voice answered.

"Did I wake you from a nap?" She asked worriedly.

"I was not supposed to be sleeping, you did me a favour."

"I'm sorry."

"Please, Elle, it's fine, how are you, are you after fleeing the country?"

"I am not that adverse to shopping." She argued, Nacelle, who was close enough to hear, laughing quietly beside her. "I actually wanted to ask you something?"

"Are you going for dinner too? If so why ask me?"

"Well, we were going to get take-out and eat at Nacelle and Becky's."

"Lovely." She could hear the happy smile on Tom's face through the phone.

"They wanted to know if you wanted to come too. I know we said we would have them to ours, but with everyone's schedules, a nice take-out and a relaxing chat seem more inviting."

"I am inclined to agree. Text me the address."

"We'll leave the gate open, he can park the car in the drive." Becky smiled.

"Get his order too by the way." Nacelle demanded.

"Did you get that?"

"I did indeed." Tom's grin was obvious through the phone, "So was it alright?"

"I survived, barely."

"You are so dramatic." Nacelle joked before swatting her.

"Now I have a crazy lady attacking me."

"I will be there in fifteen minutes to help you," Tom promised. "What sort of food are you all thinking?"

"Indian, so I have a fair guess what you want because they share our taste in takeaway," Danielle smiled, knowing exactly what Tom would request.

"Well then, you know my order, I will head as soon as I let Mac out to the bathroom and settle him." She could hear Tom descending the stairs. "And Elle?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Calling it ours," Tom replied before hanging up.

"I don't get it, what did I call ours?" Danielle frowned, staring at the phone.

"While you are figuring it out, give me his order, I want to be back ASAP," Nacelle ordered.

"Yes boss," she gave an army salute and wrote down the order for herself and Tom before putting her hand in her pocket to get the money to pay for it.

"Don't you dare," Becky warned. "This is on us."

"Next time we get it," Danielle promised.

"Sounds good," Becky smiled. "So, let's get this all sorted."

Not too long later, Nacelle returned with the food. "I found a stray outside." She declared as she entered.

"We'll trade, you can have Tom, I'll take your cat." Danielle smiled, Nero on her lap having gotten very comfortable there.

"Traitor Slut Cat, honestly, any sniff of a lap and he's on it." Nacelle declared shaking her head.

"Yeah, well, everyone loves me, especially animals." Danielle smiled as Tom came into view, a genuine grin on his face. "Hey."

"Hello to you too, Nacelle was saying you had a good day." He walked over to her, leaning down to give her a small kiss.

"It was fine, I am actually exhausted from it."

"Well, there are many that argue that it is a sport from what I am told." Tom chuckled. "Do I get to see any of it after dinner?"

"Nope, I am not looking at them again today," she declared.

"When will I get to see them?"

"Most of them, probably never, but I have something got for the wedding." She smiled.

"I need to see if I can keep that date free," Tom noted. "Are you not getting up for the food?"

"Can't, I will disturb His Majesty." she pointed to the cat, who gave a momentary glare of agreement.

"Nero, get off," Becky demanded coming over and removing the ebony coloured cat off their guest's lap.

"Oh, you didn't get to meet the last day, Tom, this is Becky, Nacelle's fiance." Danielle smiled introducing the pair.

Tom smiled and looked to the other woman, "Ms Matthew's, I didn't recognise you the last time, how have you been?"

"Wait, you know Becky?"

"From work," Tom smiled. "She is in charge of Marvel's contracts here, so of course, Ben and I have dealt with her in the past." Danielle nodded in understanding and smiled. "So, food."