#is it that flip phones are now the cheapest ones you can get that still work in the US?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Little Miss Sunshine 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Nick Fowler

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Nick and Cloudy.

Summary: a bored man needs a new light in his life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Nick has a lot of habits. Some would call it a routine. His work is often unpredictable so his personal life needs to be tightly curated.

His new habit is her. He knows he shouldn't. That he's abusing his security clearance and his professional access. He knows that he is in dangerous territory but he's always thrived there.

Unusual territory for sure. He's a bit too old to be in the campus cafe but one might assume he's faculty, not pupil. He imagines that line of work might be boring. Safer, sure, but he's not sure he could bear the monotony.

She's at the corner table with her small tea. The cheapest thing on the menu. She counted out nickels just to purchase it then got a dirty look from the barista for having to pour hot water without a tip.

She pores over a textbook as she nurses the brew. She's oblivious to everything else going on. To him. It might be why she finds herself in such a downtrodden state much of the time.

Her phone lights up. She looks at it and frowns. She shakes her head and goes back to reading. She makes notes in her notebook, roll her hand to stretch her wrist as her fingers cramp. He can't say she doesn't try.

Her cell buzzes again and she blows through her lips and pops her head up. She swipes it up and reads the screen. Her face falls. He subtly slides his own phone from his pocket. He can see her messages on his screen. An old work trick.

'Call me. Now.'

It's from Jackie, her aunt. From his observation, he knows that's her aunt. She lives in her spare room so she can afford her classes. They don't have a very good relationship.

She closes up her books and slides them into her knapsack. She drapes it over her shoulder and her jacket over her forearm as she gets up. She knocks the table and sends the dregs of her tea all over the floor, spilling some down her jeans. She hangs her head and cleans it up. She wads up napkins as she only manages to spread it around. She gives up and apologises to the disproving employee behind the counter before fleeing.

He takes out an earbud and puts it in. She hurries out, a dot on his screen, and he flips through his apps. His Bluetooth picks up her call as her aunt picks up.

"I've been calling," the woman chides.

"I know. Sorry, I'm studying--"

"You have lots of time to study. And to find a new place."

"What?" She blurts out.

"Eh, well, your cousin needs to move back--"

"But-- but I've been paying you--"

"It barely covers the light bill," her aunt snips.

"But I buy my own food and--"

"It's too bad. What am I supposed to do, put my own child out on the street?" She huffs.

"When--"

"This week. You need to start packing."

"This week? How am I supposed to--"

"You're an adult," she derides. "You are just like your mother. I knew this was going to be a problem."

The line clicks. The call's over. Nick sneers and snags someone's gaze. They shy away as they mistake his spite as being aimed at them. He gets up and goes back to the map.

Her mother isn't any better. He's seen their messages. She's on pills even though she denies it. She burned bridges with the rest of the family. Her sister has every right to be upset. He went through months of messages. Still, the sins of the mother don't belong to the daughter. He's no stranger to cruelty, not in his line of work, but he doesn't see how anyone could be mean to her.

This is a problem. Not just for her. He can't just watch her be tossed out and yet, how can unveil himself without giving away the game? Watching is what he does.

He hears her crying before he sees her. She's at the bottom of some stairs, hiding as she mops her face. She doesn't hear him. He doesn't want her too. He needs to figure out how to finagle this. Maybe a fake ad? An email? Campus services always sends out housing stuff... He'll figure it out.

Her shoulders shake as she sobs. His chest pangs. She looks so frail down there. She leans into the wall and hugs her bag. Nothing else has gone right for her but maybe he can be the one thing that does.

Shit. Now his phone is going. He quickly retreats before the vibration can give him away. He pushes through a door and eases it shut behind him. He answers.

"Fowler?" The voice on the other end greets. He furrows his brows. Strange, he hasn't heard from Jensen in years. Not since they worked together.

"Jensen, long time."

"Sure has been," the other man agrees. "I... I have a favour to ask you."

"Really?" Nick taps his chin as his brain sparks. Jensen has a talent for tech and he's clever to boot. "Just so happens, I have one too."

[i-cast-zone-of-truth]

My biggest criticism of the ff7 remake is that they use smartphones instead of flip phones. It's not even about purity; the flip phones were not in the og, they're a later-game addition. But they fit the universe SO WELL. In my mind, the PHS is absolutely a flip phone.

The rotary phones in the og are not bad. Smartphones in the remake, on the condition that only the most powerful bad guys have them, not the worst. But something about the flip phone, ephemeral and now marginal irl in the time of rapidly-evolving technologies, being the phone that in ff7 while technically available is not often used to supplement the community landline, in a world of deliberate anachronism, magic, extreme class divides, and made-up technologies... it just hits so right.

[tpsybeetle4]

Run

A/N: yay first part finally done! It took me a while because I wanna be able to do both Haunting Adeline and SOA justice and take my time with it. I’m gonna try to post as much as possible but again I wanna take my time with it. Love y’all!

TW: +18 only, mention of murder, mentions of fear play, light crude language

Part i

Delanie

My father has been the one for the theatrics for as long as I could remember. My first steps, he cried like a baby. When my first words were 'Daddy', he blubbered like child. My participation trophy in middle school volleyball, he threw a damn party. Now, moving from Salem, Oregon, away from where he was simply just two minutes away, was Charming, California, where I'd now be hours away.

"I still don't think you should be living there, Laney-" He sighed into the phone. I threw my head back quietly into the headrest of the seat of my car, shutting my eyes, not wanting him to get upset for the thousandth time this week alone about the choice of moving here a month ago.

I let out a quiet huff into the speaker as I looked to the ceiling of my car.

A ketchup stain?

"Dad, I've told you a million times," I smiled softly although I knew he couldn't see me, "I only have a year lease, if the book isnt done by then, I'll come back. I just need the quiet of a small town, a change of scenery, you know." his silence over the line was nearly deafening and i could practically see his nod as he let let go of a breath he was holding onto.

"As long as you promise me to-"

"Call as many times as I can, dad." I smiled wider into the receiver before seeing the moving van parking on the road in front of the house, "Moving vans here. I'll call you later. I promise."

"Alright sweetie, I'll let ya go then. I love ya'." he spoke and I nodded.

"I love you too, dad." i repeated back to him before I pulled my flip phone away from my ear, snapping it shut. I slipped the phone into my back pocket as I stepped out of the car.

Charming was the town Lyla had described to me in all of the emails and IM's she had sent me long ago. Vast hills and forests on the outskirts. There wasnt a Starbucks, but I never had it anyways. There were small time mom and pop shop diners, bars, mechanic shops that I had never heard of before. It was almost culture shock from the countless buildings that held a McDonalds, Goodyear Tire Shops, places youd find in any town that was bigger than Charming.

But, the name held up. Although it was a small town, Charming's neighborhoods were beautiful, vastly different from the grunge streets of Salem. It's what youd imagine when thinking of white picket fence life. Charming was what many could call a grandparents town, but the many young, lively people that would walk up and down the streets with their children told you a different story.

The house I signed the lease for was a comfortable, two bedroom, single story house. It wasnt the cheapest I could afford, but it was one I could tolerate living in for only a year as of yesterday. Today was furniture day so I was there to guide the movers where the couch, bed, and tables needed to go.

The I heard it.

The rumble of motorcycle engines in the distance.

Standing outside the pale yellow house, holding onto a box I had kept in my car overnight, I looked down the street.

I wasnt able to see the bikes as they so obviously passed by. But I could hear them, feel the rumbling deep in my chest, setting in fear over who rode those bikes, having the slightest bit of wonder if the ones who rode the bikes did good or bad.

But that was what lit a fire in the pit of my stomach, sending a spark down between my thighs.

Shaking myself from my thoughts was one of the movers, leaning against the doorframe with his forearm holding himself up. His biceps flexed, sweat dripping off his chin and neck from the heat from outside and little AC in the house and onto his now darkened gray shirt. His shirt stuck to his body, showing off how ripped he was. He gave me a small smirk as he held his free hand out, gripping onto a piece of paper.

"In case you need help unpacking." he winked when I moved the box i was holding to one hand, taking the slip of paper and opened it.

'Ben 555-4780'

I gave him a small tight lipped smile. He was attractive enough to give him that much.

"Thanks. I'll take it into consideration." I gave him a single nod before walking past him, setting the box on the counter with a sigh.

I needed a beer and to find my speaker in one of the boxes.

I pulled at my dark colored cardigan, pulling it taut around my body anxiously.

Being a successful writer had its perks, constant flow of money, being able to travel, meeting new people that already loved you.

It never helped the anxiety that comes with book signings however.

I looked to the group of people that stood outside the library, all holding at least one of my books, speaking to each other as they looked excited. I took a deep breath, wanting to rub my face but didn’t want to rub off my makeup I had spent an hour perfecting this morning.

I looked to my agent who was speaking to the older ladies that ran the library in its normal day to day time. You could just tell they were pissed and had angry looks from how busy the normally quiet building was.

As soon as the blonde, Patty, moved her gaze towards me, she smiled at the women to excuse herself and walk in my direction.

I stood up straighter, letting out a breath slowly as she spoke.

“Ready hot shot?” She asked before pushing my curls back, resting her hand on my cheek. She was about twice my age but I had always seen her as a motherly figure, someone who always cared about me, looked after me. She handled the shit that I couldn’t.

“As much as I can be.” I smiled to her as she leaned down, pressing a kiss to my cheek, her hand moving to my shoulder and guiding me to the table that sat in the middle of the room, done up in three different piles showcasing my three books I had put out in the recent years.

I sat at the table with a sigh and leaned back, watching as one of the older ladies from before finally unlock the door, letting in the line of excited women through to make a b-line in front of my table.

I pulled on a smile at the ladies, pulling off the cap of the first marker in front of me, making small talk after small talk with women of slightly different ages, the ones that got what they want moving deeper into the library to chat and eat the cheap snacks the ladies working got from the local store.

It’s been about half an hour and my hand was beginning to cramp. I looked up to Patty, seeing her standing nearby, on her cell. I gave her a slight nod and stood up as she walked towards me, calling out to the rest of the line that I’d be taking a break.

I stretched my hand, sighing as I turned, ready to go grab a glass of fruit punch and pray for it to turn into a beer before looking up, catching glimpse of a man.

I didn’t remember signing a book for him.

With a face like that, I would’ve remembered, wrote books about him, been able to see that face in my dreams.

His head was slightly pointed to the ground, as if he were looking at my shoes. His blonde hair fell from behind his ears, the ends tickling at his shaggy goatee that matched the color of his hair. His eyes, bags hanging low and a light shade of purple, were a piercing ocean blue, cutting straight through my own green eyes.

My breath caught in my throat as his lips quirked into a smirk, instilling fear into my mind and sending a slight shiver down my spine. Then a bigger lady walked past, covering my line of sight for a split second and when she was out of sight, he was gone.

I turned my head, looking for the blonde man. Behind bookshelves and the cliques of women speaking with each other. He was gone.

My ghost was gone.

Jax

The vibration in my hand from my handgun stung my skin. I could still feel the kickback from it in my bones and halfway up my arm. The life in the man’s eyes, gone, while mine stared at him angrily.

I had vowed to him before this moment that he would never touch another innocent child again and yet he doubted me. My only option was to put a bullet between his brows.

I let out a shaky breath I didn’t know I was holding, bringing my arms behind my back to slip my handgun in the waistband of my pants then leaned down, reading the patches off the Mayans kutte to myself before grabbing him by the shirt, dragging him back against the brick wall near an overfilled trash can that I could only describe as smelling like dog shit and rotten food. I held my breath as I sat the dead man up then stood back, sighing as I looked around.

It was still midday but I was still able to make good use of the silencer on my handgun but I still needed to get myself out of the area quickly.

I put up my hood after pulling it out of my kutte and walked away. It might be fucked up after killing a man in cold blood, no matter how much he deserved it, but a greasy burger was calling my name.

Salivating at the thought, I made my way down the street, hands stuffed deep in my jean pockets as I looked around, spotting a long line of women in front of the local library. I hadn’t heard of any event going on there. I furrowed my brows in surprise and got closer, nodding to some of the ladies as I walked myself up to the door, using my height as an advantage to look inside the building. I side stepped through some of the ladies, apologizing and spewing bullshit of “having to return my overdue book” with a smirk.

When I stepped into the library, for the first time in nearly 20 years, all I had expected to find was a group of older women fawning over the author of the books that finally made them feel the spark between their legs again and some middle aged freak with round glasses and kitten heels signing front page after front page of her few books. What I did not intend to see was a woman, had to be around my age, sitting back in the chair in the middle of the table, her fiery red locks halved and pulled up behind her head. Her glasses were round and thin, nowhere near the thick lenses I had imagined before. Her golden brown eyes cat like and sultry held a certain uneasiness from the crowd of middle aged women standing in line, overflowing into the history isle of books.

I had to have her.

I ducked behind a group of women and made my way to the back of the room, finding a spot near the shelves where I had a clear view of her. My eyes bored into the back of her head, sure that she could feel it.

And then she stood. Even from further away I could tell she was at least a head shorter than me even with the curls of her hair that stuck up. I could hear the whispers of the group of women surrounding me, saying her name as though it was a prayer.

I should be the only one saying it like that. I need to be.

My gaze continued on her even as she turned, quickly meeting my eyes. A smirk formed on my lips, my breathing became heavier as she quickly took in my form. Before either of us knew though, a lady walked in between our gazes so I ducked and slipped myself into a dark corner of the room, hugging the wall as I made my way out of the building without anyone taking notice. Every body in there was too focused on one person and one person only.

Delanie.

My Delanie.

[blogquantumreality]

As I was traversing New York back to Frey's place, I noticed an interesting NPC interaction with Frey, and it made me want to come up with a short fic. This is the result!

Frey couldn't help but notice the brown-haired woman in the grey turtleneck and winter parka staring at her as she walked by.

Even though it was a freezing cold day and she wanted to get home, she decided to turn around and see if, just out of morbid curiosity, the woman would talk to her or if she was just staring because, well, black street girl.

Then again, maybe the allegedly ubiquitous "Christmas spirit" might make the interaction go more smoothly. It had gotten her a serious reprieve from Judge Bird.

"So, uh, hey." The words didn't exactly roll smoothly off Frey's tongue.

The other woman frowned. She didn't back away, though, which was something. "Hi," she said. Frey took a moment to eye her jawline, and noted with appreciation the complicated braided ponytail she could partly see at the back of her head. And she had hazel eyes, if Frey judged correctly.

Frey looked up and saw that she was standing in front of a record store. "Any good records in there?" As pick-up lines go, that sucked.

That forced a chuckle from the other woman. "Not really. My grandpa still has one of those old record players and I was hoping to get him a Frank Sinatra album. Cheapest one is, like, thirty bucks, though. Gotta pay the 'vintage premium' according to the guy at the counter. So much for having a sale on!"

"I usually just watch music videos on YouTube with my phone when I can get Wi-Fi," Frey replied. With an effort at a change of subject, she asked, "Waiting for someone?"

She winced internally and mentally set a new low bar for how bad her pick-up lines could get.

Luckily, the other woman didn't seem fazed and just shrugged. "Wanted to stand outside for a bit. The surge pricing's insane right now so I'll wait till things calm down a bit."

"You're braver than me. I wanna get home and warm up as soon as I can!"

"So... I'm the only reason you're delaying your return, hmm?"

Frey could feel the heat rising just a bit in her face, and if that wasn't enough, the other woman fucking winked at her.

"Busted," Frey muttered. "But I did see you staring at me, so I kinda, well..."

"You usually go around picking up strange women on the street, then?" She grinned. "I'm Amelia." She stuck out her hand and said, "You're...?"

Frey hurriedly extended her hand. "Frey." As she clasped Amelia's hand, she couldn't help but feel a slight shiver up her spine at the warmth of her smooth hand.

Amelia released her hand and let hers drop to her side. "Frey. I like that. Unusual name. So what do you like doing in your spare time?"

Be a street kid and steal shit for a living so I can save up enough and get the hell out of this damn city.

"Well, I've got a cat, so between her, games on my phone, and walking everywhere I go that's kinda what I do when I'm not, um... freelancing."

Amelia gasped. "A cat?! Please tell me you have a picture!"

Frey held her phone out to Amelia. "That's Homer on my lock screen."

"She's adorable. So fluffy!" Amelia smiled widely at Frey. "I like you more and more, Frey."

Flipping it back around, because she really didn't want to accidentally let slip she just got out of court, she said, "So, Amelia. What do you do in your spare time, besides browse record stores?"

Amelia chuckled. "I'm kind of a bit of a nerd, honestly. I play some tabletop games - D&D, that kind of stuff."

Vaguely remembering a club she'd been in back in high school, Frey nodded. "Uh, which rules are you using?"

"We were using fourth, but when the new ones came out we tried out the Lost Mine of Phandelver and it was pretty cool, so we switched."

Frey frowned. "We...?"

Amelia waved that off. "Oh, just me and a couple of friends from college; I'm majoring in business, so doing this stuff is a good way to blow off steam."

Frey smiled. "Must be nice, being in college."

"It's not for everyone," mused Amelia. "My brother's actually going into trades because everybody and their dog needs a plumber, but me, I wanna be owning the plumbing repair shop." She reached out and touched Frey's arm briefly. "So what kinda freelancing do you do?"

Think, think, think!

"Uh, just kinda... a bit of everything. I know a little bit about cars, so my last job was helping fix a guy's ignition," Frey babbled.

And if by 'fixing the ignition', I mean attempting to hot-wire the car, that's technically sorta true. I just didn't do it with the owner's permission.

Amelia lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "Interesting. More variety than my life, anyway."

The wind shifted and a sudden chill went through Frey. "Shit, it's getting colder. I really gotta--my cat." She gestured vaguely in the direction she'd been walking.

"Oh, yeah! Sorry about that." Amelia dug in her pockets and then coming up empty, said, "Uh, you mind giving me your phone for a second?"

Reluctantly, Frey handed it over. Without that phone, she was completely adrift; she bit her lip as Amelia tapped away in the Contacts section.

Relief flooded her as Amelia handed it back and winked again. "My number's in there. Give me a call sometime and I'll buy you a coffee."

Frey lifted her eyebrow. "Are you asking me out already?"

Amelia's face went red and she ducked her head for a moment before looking Frey in the eye. "What can I say? You're growing on me. And you are pretty cute."

It was now Frey's turn to blush, and she mumbled, "Guess you're pretty good-looking too."

"Seeya, Frey...?"

"Holland." She looked at her phone. "Amelia ... Evans, I take it?"

She nodded. "That's me. See you around."

Frey sketched a short 'goodbye' wave and said, "Guess maybe I will."

Amelia waved back. "Hopefully soon!"

Frey turned and began walking down the street, but a smile kept tugging at her face. Maybe this Christmas - and my birthday - won't suck for once.

[enid-rhees]

matching tattoos || elisia brown x fem!reader

summary: you don’t want the night to end after your amazing date with Elisia. Elisia comes up with an idea.

genre: fluff !! just pure fluff 🫶🏻 also pure cheesiness

a/n: this is such an old request that i have been dying to get to, so im finally doing it :] i have 1 tattoo and ive been dying to get another. requested by @elisiassideb1tch 💙 i hope u enjoy 🫶🏻 the Elisia icon is also made by her 🫶🏻

tonight might’ve been one of the best nights of your life. you haven’t had this much fun in a while, and you knew it was because you spent it with the love of your life.

Elisia looked so beautiful tonight. you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that she was yours. the two of you had just finished your date, you took her out to a restaurant. for a while now, you’ve been saving up money for this moment.

you’ve always wanted to take her out like this, to a restaurant where she can dress up and have the best food. and afterwards, the two of you wander the streets and laugh with each other, ignoring the people that look at you funny as they passed by. they didn’t have what you had.

you took Elisia’s hand in the air and spun her around, when she came back around to face you, she fell into your chest and your lips connected with ease. she rested her hand on your chest, and then slowly brought it up to your neck as the kiss continued.

the night still felt young, you didn’t want to go home yet. you wanted to be out here with Elisia. despite it already being late enough, the sky was dark and cars weren’t littering the streets, you wanted to be out here with her.

“lets find something to do.” you mumbled against her lips. “anything.” Elisia pulled her face away from you, the most beautiful smile growing on her lips. “i have an idea.”

Elisia intertwined her fingers with yours and began to pull you down the sidewalk. you didn’t know where she was taking you, but it only excited you more. you couldn’t help but take out your phone and snap the cheesy picture of Elisia holding your hand in front of you. the pictures from your date sat next to it, one of Elisia looking heavenly across from you at the table, and the other of her kissing your lips behind a menu.

Elisia stopped on the sidewalk and looked up at the building in front of you. you did the same, mouth dropping when you saw the “tattoo shop” on the sign. “you want to get tattoos?” you asked her, almost in disbelief. although, you weren’t really that surprised, Elisia has always talked about getting a tattoo one day.

she rose her finger, “matching tattoos.” she said, her smile growing. “you want to?” you asked. “if you want to.”

you didn’t say another word and you opened the door to the shop and let her walk in first. a man with tattoo sleeves up his arms and legs waved at the two of you, and you guys waved back.

“what can i do for you guys today? my name is Mike. you guys are in here pretty late, usually no one comes in this late.” Mike said, and you spoke up first. “uh, we are looking to get… matching tattoos. preferably small ones on our wrists or finger.” you looked over at Elisia for confirmation, and she nodded.

“matching, eh? you guys married or what?” Mike joked with you, and you laughed lightly. “no no… hopefully one day, though.” Elisia nudged your shoulder and you looked at her with a smile. “what? i’m being serious.”

Mike then pulled out a binder filled with various sketches of tattoos. “these are our ten dollar tattoos, the cheapest you can get. feel free to look through this and let me know when you decide.”

the two of you started to flip through the pages, and then Elisa pointed at one particular heart. “what if we got these right here?” she pulled up your hand and pointed to your finger. the finger she pointed to was the one where you two had - conveniently - matching rings. the rings were a gift from her, she called them promise rings.

“yeah, let’s do it.” you smiled, pressing one quick kiss to her lips. Elisia looked into your eyes with so much love, you’ve never been so sure of wanting to marry someone.

you raised your hand to get Mike’s attention, and he came back to the counter. “have you guys decided?” you both nodded and pointed to the heart, “we’d like to get this heart on our finger.”

“perfect. you guys can have a seat together over there. luckily these are small, so i’ll be able to knock these out in under an hour.” you took Elisia’s hand and walked over to the chair he pointed to.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” Elisia whispered. “you nervous?” she shrugged, “a little.” you pressed a kiss to her head. “it’s okay. we got this.”

Mike sat in front of you guys with a clean needle and sketches of the heart. he reached for your hand and wiped your finger down with a wipe and did the same to Elisia. “so, just to let you know, these might hurt a bit. i’m putting the needle directly on the bone basically, so it’s going to hurt.”

Elisia intertwined your other hand with hers. Mike placed the stencil of the heart on your fingers and picked up the needle after it appeared on your skin. he dipped the needle into the ink and began on your finger first.

the first initial touch made you flinch, and Elisia gripped your hand tighter. Mike took a paper towel and wiped off the ink, and then began again. Elisia pulled out her phone and rose it as she opened the camera app. you smiled up at her phone and she took the picture, smiling at it once she put her phone back down. “you’re so cute.”

before you knew it, Mike had finished with your tattoo. he gently wrapped it plastic, “you can take that off about an hour after you get home. if you have any cream like Aquaphor, use it throughout the day for about a week or so. if you have any problems, you can come right back.”

you nodded, and then Mike began to work on Elisia’s finger. she flinched at the first touch, but relaxed when you tangled your fingers with hers.

part of you was still in disbelief that this was happening. you and Elisia were getting matching tattoos. you were always so sure that Elisia would be yours forever, but with your promise rings and now matching tattoos, you’ve practically sealed the deal with her. Elisia is yours, and you’re hers. forever.

Mike finished with her tattoo and did the same as he did to you. you and Elisia lifted your fingers, putting the two tattooed fingers together. “i can’t believe we actually did this.” you giggled. Elisia smiled, “they look so good. i’m so glad we did this.”

she pulled out her phone once more and snapped a photo of your fingers next to each other, with your rings in view as well. the two of you then stood up and walked over to the counter where Mike walked off to. you took out your wallet and handed him two 10s, and then an extra $20 for a tip. “thank you, Mike. you did incredible.”

“you guys were definitely the best customers of the day. don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.” he joked, making you and Elisia both laugh. “will do. thanks again, have a good night!”

when you got out of the shop, Elisia pulled you into a kiss in the middle of the sidewalk. you gripped her waist and kissed back with everything you had. she rested her head on yours when she pulled away, smiling as she looked into your eyes. you got so lost hers immediately.

“i love you so much.” you whispered. “thank you for giving me the best fucking day ever.”

“i love you more.” she hummed. “thank you for dinner, and the tattoos. thank you for being mine.”

a/n: here’s the request & photo reference! (i chose the 1st one ^_^)

[autumnalwalker]

Heads Up Seven Up

I was tagged by @winterandwords, and then again by @aether-wasteland-s. Thank you to both of you.

Passing the tag to @imbrisvastatio, @aestatismors, @kjscottwrites, @jass-is-afk, @blind-the-winds, @oh-no-another-idea, @words-after-midnight, and an open tag for anyone else who may wish to join in.

Since this was a double tag, time for fourteen paragraphs from the next Empty Names chapter (which will be a while before its real post while I try to build up a chapter buffer again). Not sure how I wound up writing two chapters in a row that start with a character waking up in the morning and not wanting to get out of bed, but here we are. The tone's a bit different though.

Content warning for gender dysphoria and some other more general angst.

The alarm clock times out and stops beeping.  The whole reason Lacuna bought that thing and put it over on the other side of the room was so that she wouldn’t do what she’s doing right now.  It worked for a while but then she got used to it.  And she can’t change the alarm noise to something she’s less used to because she bought the cheapest model she could find.  Then again, she’s theoretically getting paid again so she can probably afford to get a better one.  But then what to do with this one?  Throwing it out feels wasteful.  One more piece of plastic junk polluting the planet.  Not that it’s even a drop in the bucket compared to corporate industrial pollution and - No.  No, no, no.  She’s not letting herself get on the environmental spiral this morning. 

She does another loop of beating herself up for being awkward in a conversation instead. 

Her phone beeps.  A text, not an alarm.

She rolls over to check it and winces at the way the stubble that’s grown back overnight despite the past few years of hormones, lasers, electrified needles, and even some alchemical solutions scrapes across her pillowcase.  So stupid.  Autogenesis should be a barely-dreamed-of blessing (and apparently is for most people in her position), but instead she’s worse off than if she’d never gone Backstage and stuck with mundane solutions all because she’s both too insecure and one of the “lucky” people who just happen to be particularly susceptible to its influence.

Why is she like this?

She flips the phone over on her nightstand and reads the text.

Ready to head out?

That’s enough to jolt her out of her loop and far past the point of wakefulness into the realm of spiking heart rate and shaking limbs. 

She’d gotten so stuck in her head she forgot what day it is.

Trembling, she taps out a reply.

15 minutes.  Sorry.

Twenty-five minutes later Lacuna has gargled some mouthwash, shaved, dressed (pants today), flipped her mattress over to retrieve the box she’s still a little afraid to think about too hard from the hole she’d cut into the mattress’s underside, slung a messenger bag over her shoulder (like a purse but big enough for a laptop, she enjoys telling herself every time), stepped outside, fumbled with her keys due to trying to lock the door in a hurry, and is now descending the stairwell panting “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” over and over again until she reaches where Eris stands waiting at the bottom. 

Eris hands her a protein bar without comment.  

She gives a sheepish “Thanks” as she unwraps it while they walk.  She thinks of the taste as her penance for not getting out of bed sooner.  How Eris eats these things she’ll never know.  Probably without having mouthwash still coating her tongue.  Or does she only buy them specifically to hand to her at times like this?  Oh goddess, Lacuna hopes not.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙍𝘼𝙏 𝘽𝙊𝙔 │ 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

◦ request(s):

I’m sorry but I NEED more edgy Karl, I’m literally in love with it <3 I wanna date him so BAD 

More edgy karl where he calls the reader bunny or puppy or a pet name like that 👀👀

◦ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

◦ warnings: nsfw (minors dni), biting, domination, crude language, semi-public sex, asphyxiation, submission, slight degradation, frat boys

◦ word count: 3558

◦ links: ao3, main: genethequeen

a/n:  Thank you for all your support on this series! I love reading all your comments and suggestions! To find all previous parts, click the ao3 link above or explore the edgy!karl hashtag. If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

As a reminder, my asks are always open for requests, comments, or just to chat :) Happy reading!

You clicked your phone off, shoving it into your pocket and lifting your eyes to the mumbling crowd of your fellow classmates filing into the lecture hall. Spring break was nearing by the second, and it was obvious that everyone wanted to get in and out as soon as they could. You had previously decided that staying on campus was probably the cheapest and easiest plan for break.

It could only be a coincidence that you would spot the tall, willowy figure you’d tried to reach the week prior to no avail. His eyes were a mirror of grey smoke as his face showed an unhuman-like lack of emotion. You could already tell his headphones were probably blaring in his ears as he cut himself off from the incoherent chatter around him. 

Karl had become almost a constant in your life, the mutual late-night calls and mid-day escape nearly a drug for you as you came to depend on it. It got to the point where you’d casually mention to your roommate you couldn’t meet for lunch because you’d already had your plans with Karl. 

Yet, just as he was installed in your life, he suddenly had dropped away from you. Your once steamy messages had grown cold and vague on his end. No longer would you randomly receive a notification that he was nearby after you got out of a lecture, instead it was radio silence and a close to jaded response. He’d become a ghost in your class, barely making eye contact with you when he once only used to show up to kick your seat. You knew the two of you weren’t anywhere near anything to write home about, yet it was almost uncharacteristic for him to avoid you for as long as he had. 

You swallowed your pride and began to edge through the crowd toward him. As you brushed your fingertips against his hoodie sleeve, it was almost as if your sense of touch had hungered for him too in his absence. You almost instantly wanted to draw the fabric of his jacket around you, enveloping yourself in his scent. He peered at you over his shoulder, removing an earbud and raising an eyebrow at you almost nonchalantly. The crowd parted like the Red Sea around the two of you as he looked down at you. His grey irises swirled to life as you straightened up to lay your dignity at his feet.

His lip was split, something you’d figured had been a result of the dry, changing seasons, until you spotted another bruise on his face, your mind flashing back to him peering up at you from the bathroom floor with his first black eye. This time, his features were dark and stormy, and you’d be lying not to admit that his sulky façade was rather alluring to you. 

You drew in a breath, wondering where your previous confidence had fled. “Are you okay?” Was all you could think to manage, his eyes concentrating on you. 

He let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, voice heavy with husk. It was this tone that could send your knees to jelly at any moment. “You miss me, Hancock?” He chided, a sly smirk drawing on his lips. A blush grew on your cheeks, realizing how this probably looked for you. 

You chewed the inside of your cheek, dropping your voice into an almost whisper as to not disrupt anyone walking around the two of you. “Are you ghosting me now?” 

He ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling his dark locks as he bit his bottom lip to avoid laughing at you. His smug appearance was beginning to set fire to your blood. He took a step forward, his arm dropping from lazily holding onto his backpack strap to ghost his fingers over your hand at your side. 

Before you knew it, you were tugging him into the bathroom behind you. 

It was as if someone had flipped a switch and you’d broken out of a daze as Karl’s body intertwined with yours, pinning you beneath him and the plastic stall divider in the bathroom. The two of you were a fumbling mess, tugging at each other’s clothing looking for more friction and something to relieve the tension that had grown between you. You dug your fingers into his hair as he reached down to grip your ass, pulling your hips roughly against his. His tongue slipped into your mouth, the sensation of him closing more distance between the two of you made you want him more. You tugged at his jeans, ready to commit yourself to whatever he wanted.

He pulled away from you, your lips burning without his connection. He swiftly bunched your skirt up at your waist as you quickly unbuttoned his pants.  He wrapped his hand around the back of your knee, hoisting your leg up against his side once again before driving himself into you. You groaned as he filled you up, feeling every inch of him as he retracted from you only to press himself deeper into you. 

He let out a deep moan, his lips finding yours once again as he began to grind against you, snapping his hips against yours to draw out your pleasure. You tugged his bottom lip between your teeth and curled your hips at his movements. Each of his sounds were the equivalent of a reward for you, you wanted to earn his approval and get him off almost more than you wanted yourself to. You were thankful for the slight height difference between the two of you as you wrapped yourself beneath one of his arms to grip onto his shoulder, pulling yourself up against him.

Karl’s hand gripped the top of the stall wall, his hips relentlessly bashing against yours, your mind blurring at each of his movements. Whatever frustrations you had previously encountered were quickly dissipating as your hands dug into Karl’s shoulders, his nose in the crook of your neck as his breath cascaded across your chest. 

The feeling of his tongue ring against your skin was a picture of solitude as you clawed at his clothed back, silently begging him to ravage you. His hand moved to grip your neck, pushing your head back against the plastic wall. His cheeks were flushed red with exertion, his eyes in a hazy smear of lust. His lips melded against yours in a searing kiss, before his teeth moved to dig into your shoulder. “Look at you, begging me to rail you in a public bathroom like a slut,” he chuckled darkly, his breath igniting goosebumps that spread across your body like wildfire. He pressed his lips against the sensitive skin behind your ear before continuing, “I’m sure your colleagues would love to know how submissive you are.” 

He pulled back to make eye contact with you again, wanting to see his effect on you. You groaned as he squeezed his hand, your breath hitching in your throat as he drove himself deeper into you. Seeing his blissed-out, slack-jawed expression alongside his now rapid movements, made stars flash behind your eyes as the urge to cum built within you. He pressed his lips against your flushed cheek as one of his hands returned to the wall behind you, his lips traveling to the crook of your neck as he moved in an upward motion. His newfound momentum sent you clenching around him as you chased your own high, wrapping your leg around his waist. Another moan ripped through your body. 

“God, I love how needy you are for me, bunny,” he almost growled in your ear, sending you over the edge unintentionally. He continued to ride against you, drawing himself to finish as you drew him back to kiss him again in a tangle of lust and bliss. After his release, he rested his forehead against your shoulder as the two of you fought to catch your breath. You almost didn’t want him to pull out yet.

He detached from you reluctantly, the two of you straightening your clothes as you pretended you weren’t struggling to stand on your wobbly knees. Your fingers reached up to touch your sore lips still buzzing from the feeling of his rough touch. You felt colder now as the mix of your and Karl’s fluids ran down your thighs, making you feel even more like he had reminded you who you begged for. 

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

You weren’t sure how you found yourself on the doorstep of Karl’s fraternity, but there you were, ringing the doorbell as various members were packing their cars to leave. You knew Karl was still around, but you’d figured a surprise visit wouldn’t hurt. Plus, after a mutual friend of yours spent the morning talking about a party there, your interest was piqued. 

The heavy, wood door popped open, revealing a tall man with broad shoulders. He looked busted up like Karl had previously been. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, straightening up his shirt as if you would care. You sent him a small smile in an attempt to humor him. “Can I help you?” He quizzed in an almost overly polite manner, slicking a hand through his hair. 

You bit your lip slightly. “I’m looking for Karl?” You asked more than stated. Frats were nearly the foil to Karl’s aura. 

The man’s eyes narrowed in disbelief slightly. “Karl?” His brows furrowed as his gaze traced over you again. You wanted to chuckle, thinking about how Karl would react when you would recount this to him later. “Karl Karl? Like… skinny, nail polish-” 

“I’m not sure what’s not clicking for you,” you stated, cutting him off as you sent him an amused look. 

His face dropped slightly, clearing his throat as if he was embarrassed. The man stepped to the side, now speaking at the speed of sound about how close he was with Karl. You nodded along to his words, looking around the grand foyer as he led you further into the house. It felt like there were staircases everywhere and Brothers here and there shoving different articles of clothing into bags like they hadn’t done laundry since winter break. 

In the midst of the last few people leaving the premises, Karl stood in sweatpants with a box of cereal discussing something with another guy. His eyes moved in your direction fleetingly as if he was checking who had come to visit. Seemingly expecting someone’s mother, he didn’t pay any mind to you until you watched the gears in his head click into place and his eyes snapped back to you with an almost bewildered look. “KARL,” the man beside you called to him. Karl handed the box to the guy he was talking to and made his way towards you. A few of the other guys gave you a once-over as they were leaving, something not unnoticed by Karl. 

“What are you doing here?” Karl inquired, fronted and uneasy as he looked around a bit. 

You faked a coy persona. “I figured you needed help packing,” you cooed, sending him a wink. Karl fought not to smirk, opting to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something back. 

The man beside you moved to wrap an arm around Karl, eyeing you beside him now. Your eyes went wide, flashing a look of confusion to Karl, whose deadpan gaze was cased toward you. “Where have you been hiding her, stud muffin?” The man joked, pinching Karl’s cheek. Karl shrugged him off. 

“Don’t you have a plane to catch?” Karl grumbled, making sure to put himself between you and the man. 

The man laughed. “Is Karl any good in bed?” He directed at you suddenly and off-topic as if it had been burning in his mind since meeting you, making you choke back a laugh. 

“Alright,” Karl muttered, half gesturing you upstairs. 

“Have a good break, Jacobs. Don’t run your mouth while I’m gone,” the man joked, voice dripping with a dark kind of venom. He walked backward slightly before turning and leaving the house. You followed Karl to the second floor, your mind racing with questions yet a sense of pride had fluttered within you at the fact that Karl definitely won whatever fight he and the man had been in previously. You cleared your throat slightly as you followed him down one of the hallways. “Who was that guy?” 

Karl looked back at you slightly. “Just some douchebag that lives here.” You chuckled slightly at his words. “That’s his room,” he stated, lazily pointing towards one of the open doors as he walked. You grabbed his arm, pulling him through the threshold of the guy’s room. The walls were plastered with various trophies and certificates. “What are you up to?” Karl raised, crossing his arms and watching you move around the room. 

“And he just left, right?” You asked, plopping down on the edge of his bed. Karl inhaled deeply as if understanding where you were headed. 

He wet his lips. “Yeah, he took a bunch of the guys home too.” You hummed in response to his answer, running your finger along the design of the duvet. Karl leaned against the open door, peering out to see if anyone else was around, but the noise downstairs had silenced. 

You crawled further onto the bed, laying on your side as you peered up at Karl. “Were you the one that beat the shit out of him?” Karl only shrugged in response, but his eyes were dancing with amusement. “You know, you were kind of mean to me in the bathroom yesterday,” you beckoned, sighing slightly before continuing. “Calling me a slut and whatnot. Is that up to par with the Tri Phi values?” 

Karl snorted. “Kappa Alpha Order actually. We’re a gentleman's fraternity, so historically yes.” You chuckled at his words, shaking your head slightly. You were still rather appalled to find out he was a Brother. 

“That guy was kind of a dick,” you mentioned lightly. A devious smirk threatened to break Karl’s calm exterior. You sat up, kicking your shoes off and letting down your hair. “We should teach him a lesson,” you chided, tugging the flesh of your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked at him. 

Karl crossed his arms, seemingly weighing the consequences of his words. “I don’t know, baby…” He murmured, yet his tone suggested you had already convinced him. 

“Awe, is Todd gonna be upset if you fuck me on his bed? In front of all his stupid high school trophies?” You provoked, making him chuckle darkly. He wet his lips as you sat up, nearly begging him to join you. 

Karl rolled his eyes, kicking the door shut with his foot and climbing over you on the bed. You were quick to top him though, much to his surprise. “You’re a bad influence,” he groaned. He gripped your forearms smugly, pulling your hands to settle on either side of his head. His lips pressed against yours hungrily as if to cleanse your dirty words. 

One of his strong hands slipped against your thigh, grabbing at your ass and urging you to grind against him while the other settled in the crook of your neck. You kissed him brazenly, your need pulsing through your body with your new-found friction. He moved beneath you, smiling against your greedy mouth, knotting his fingers into your hair. You felt him getting harder with each of your movements. You fisted your hands in his jacket as you pulled away from him curling your hips to find your sweet spot. His hand explored your body, gripping your breast as he sucked at the thin skin against your collarbones, moaning into your hair.

God, he wasn’t even inside of you but his encouragement was a high you wanted to ride as long as you could. His fingers dug into your hips and you half hoped he would leave bruises again. You wanted him to mark you. 

You moved to press your lips against his neck, raking your teeth against the sensitive skin. He moaned at your actions, fingers yanking your shirt free from where it was tucked into your pants, giving his hands more roaming space. Each of his groans of approval sent heat to your core and an urgency of wanting more of him. Your hands slipped beneath his sweatshirt, slipping it over his head before he leaned up to capture your lips against his again. You pushed him back onto the bed, pulling your own shirt off as his hands threatened to tug at the lacy material. 

Despite being trapped between your thighs, Karl was still clearly in control of the situation as he ground his hips up against yours. Both your jeans and Karl’s sweatpants were discarded soon after. You went to slip out of your underwear but he stopped you, something you were somewhat thankful for because, frankly, you didn’t wear the set of lingerie for it to just be discarded right away. 

His expression flickered to excitement as your hand instead wrapped around the base of his cock, pumping a few times before you sank onto him, a moan dragging through the both of you. He smiled lazily, his perfect teeth glistening up at you. Veins ran near the tattoo on his neck as his chin tilted up in pleasure as you began to move against him. You ran your fingers into your hair as you bobbed on top of him, your hips rolling against his to draw out ungodly noises from him. He reached one of his hands behind him to grip onto the headboard for some kind of anchor. His other hand dug into your hip, the two of you moving to bring each other closer to climax. 

You rocked against him roughly, driving him deeper into you. You could help but rake your nails down his body, causing goosebumps to litter his chest and a groan to hiss from between his lips. You slowed your pace, only to slide one of your hands up to wrap around his neck. A dark expression clouded behind his eyes as if daring you to proceed with your malicious intentions. Pride swelled within you at the knowledge that you could pleasure him this much. Sure, the two of you usually had great sex, but this time it was you who was drawing it out of Karl. 

You applied pressure and his hand moved to wrap around your wrist, his head tilting back again as his teeth dug into his lower lip, your hips grinding against him slowly, driving him deeper into you. Sweat had begun to pool at his hairline and near his brow, his cheeks reddening from the stimulation. “You’re so hot,” you almost growled, making his eyebrows perk up, a pleasantly praised expression flashing across his features. You rode him harder, making him moan your name as if it were a curse. 

You leaned down, connecting your lips in a searing kiss. Karl pushed himself to sit up, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you reached for your orgasms. His teeth dug into your shoulder as your nails dug into his back. At the new angle, he had found your sweet spot and the tension was beginning to unravel deep within you.  “Fuck, I’m close,” he groaned, almost reluctantly. Your head dropped back slightly as you felt each movement of his shooting electricity through your body. Your fingers moved to drag through his hair, tugging at his locks and invoking a string of raspy moans to fall from his lips.

Your toes curled as you finally reached your orgasm, calling out his name and feeling him release as well, riding out your pleasure. You breathlessly sank further into his arms, his chest rising as he savored the rest of his orgasm. The two of you slumped back against the bed, Karl’s arm resting beneath your head. “I half expected a pin-up on the ceiling, not gonna lie,” you mumbled, your voice jagged. 

Karl laughed. “He moved it downstairs for a party,” he joked. 

“Charming,” you jeered. After a beat of silence, something crept into your mind. “Do you think I’m the only girl to finish in this bed?” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Karl’s face break into a smirk. “I’m not sure, I usually only hear him.”

Tags:

@mrwinemaker  @ madsbbg 

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Passport

Requested by anon - a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post! Enjoy! Thanks for requesting!

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Premise: You embark on a memorable journey in an attempt to return Kim Namjoon’s passport. What lengths will you go to in order to return his passport on time?

Warnings: none, this is literal crackhead fluff lol. emphasis on the crackhead.

Word Count: 3.2k 

It all started in the morning. You knew, leaving the house that morning with a skip in your step and the sun shining down on you, that something was off. Something was bound to go wrong.

It wasn’t until 11:30, sitting at brunch with some of your friends, that you caught your first whiff of trouble. 

Literally.

Rebecca, one of your oldest friends, had insisted on pretending to be rich and fancy for a day. She’d dragged you and the rest of your friends to a penthouse-like restaurant, commanding you to wear your finest ‘casual wear’, whatever that was supposed to mean. 

Long story short, you felt like some sort of avid golf fan in your skirt and blouse. Or maybe a polo fan, cheering on the magnificent horses and their riders. 

You were so consumed in your menu and trying to find the cheapest thing they had to offer without looking like a fraud, that you hadn’t noticed the room falling into a quiet buzz of excitement. Hadn’t noticed any sort of change in the air.

Except your nose had.

You unconsciously scooted in closer to the table when out of your peripheral you saw a group of people making their way over to the empty tables nearest you. They shimmied behind you and the table opposite your own, making sure to not interrupt your dining experience. Then you smelled it.

The most wonderful, fresh cologne you’d ever smelled. The smell was light enough that it had you wondering for a moment if you had just imagined the hint of pine, but another sniff confirmed what your nostrils already knew. 

Whoever had just entered the fancy, no-good for college budgets restaurant knew exactly what worked for them. And it was that cologne. Naturally, you glanced over to see just who it was that graced your nose with such a beautiful smell. 

And that, it the precise moment that you learned that Kim Namjoon, leader of BTS and dimple extraordinaire, smells like roses and pine.

Oh, and the slightest hint of jasmine.

Now, the only problem with that knowledge is the fact that you will never be able to get it out of your head. No longer will Namjoon in blue jeans and a tucked in t-shirt be your greatest weakness, as it had been before. No, that’s ancient history as far as that tantalizing fragrance is concerned. 

“Enjoying the view?” Rebecca croons from across the table, ripping your attention away from the man that just took his seat. From this angle, you have the perfect view of those dimples. 

The rest of the brunch passes by with little to no incident. The only thing that keeps you from staring at the group that’s CD has a permanent residency in your car’s stereo is the fact that you know your friends will take matters into their own hands if they catch you. Rebecca will surely embarrass you, if only because you’ve done the same thing to her countless times.

Leticia to your right elbows you lightly, grinning. “You know, RM keeps looking over at you.”

Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets. “It’s not nice to tease!”

“It’s true!” Bianca pipes up a bit too loudly. She covers her mouth, looking embarrassed. “I mean, it’s true!” She whisper shouts. “He can only go about thirty seconds without looking at you. Maybe he’s worried you’re going to choke or something.”

You roll your eyes. “Wow, how considerate of him.”

Munching on a lettuce wrap that costs about the same as your statistics textbook, you nearly choke on it as the group finishes their meal and begins to make their way out of the restaurant. You scoot your chair back in, cursing your reddened cheeks even as you prepare yourself for the onslaught of Namjoon’s cologne again. 

“Excuse us,” Namjoon says, the sound of his voice enough to have you staring at Rebecca as though she’s a lifeline. If you can make it through this experience without passing out, you can surely accomplish anything.

“Have a good day!” Bianca chirps, smiling widely. Jung Hoseok - yeah, the sunshine of the world - smiles back. 

“Thank you,” he replies. He glances over at you and then, to your eternal horror, he looks at Namjoon with a pointed stare. 

“Er...” Namjoon stumbles over his words, looking like he would rather eat the tablecloth than have to say two words to you. You try to hide your disappointment, closing your mouth and opting for a pleasant smile. 

It’s the wrong move, honestly. Now you’re stuck smelling in his cologne and wondering how it’s humanly possible for someone to smell so beautiful.

Namjoon fiddles with his sleeves before looking over to you, a lightning bolt jolting your senses at the sudden eye contact. 

“You...you’re very pretty.”

In your own defense, your mouth is not the only one that drops open in shock. No, Bianca, Leticia, and Rebecca mirror your state of shock. 

Bianca recovers all too quickly, playfully pushing your shoulder as she exclaims, “See! I told you he was staring!”

Fighting the urge to flee the scene, you plaster on your most nonchalant expression and turn back to Namjoon with pink cheeks. You’re relieved to see his own cheeks tinted pink. 

“I- thank you!” 

At this point all of the boys have paused in their exit, turning to look back at Namjoon with silly grins. Namjoon notices their attention, nodding his head to you and his eyes dropping to stare at the carpet. 

“You’re welcome, haveaniceday,” Namjoon spits out, thrusting a napkin into your hands before before turning on his heel and making a beeline for the exit. He shoulders past the members who give him pats on the back and laugh a little at their leader’s shyness. 

With one final look over his shoulder and an annoyed sigh at Jin who mumbles a teasing remark to him, Namjoon leaves. 

You stare and stare at the exit, your brain short-circuiting as you replay your short exchange over and over again. In your hands sits the napkin - an actual, cloth napkin that is silky soft - marred (or perfected) by Namjoon’s scrawl. 

It doesn’t say a single word. Just boasts his phone number.

“What,” you breathe out, still staring at the exit, “just happened?”

Your question seems to break the spell that had your friends mute, and suddenly all four of your burst out into giddy laughter. 

“I have no idea,” Rebecca says through her giggles, “But I wish I had that on camera!”

Leticia is the one to notice it first. As the four of you get up to leave, she sees something laying on the seat where Namjoon sat. You know it’s where he sat, because you’ve burned the image into your mind. 

You’ve also memorized his phone number. As has Bianca, who read it over your shoulder about seven times before sitting back down in her seat. 

“It looks like they left something behind,” Leticia muses, wandering over to their abandoned table. “Oh, no way!” She bursts out into laughter, pointing down at the chair.

The rest of us scramble over just in time to see Leticia hoist the item up into the air. 

It’s a passport. 

Rebecca grabs your arm, looking at me with wide eyes. “This is a sign! I swear, it’s a sign!”

You frown at her, rubbing at the sore spot from where she’s grabbed a hold of you. “What do you mean? How is this a sign? Have you lost it?”

“No, I get what she’s saying!” Bianca shouts, drawing the attention of anyone that hasn't noticed the commotion yet. “He gave you his number, and now you have the perfect reason to text him! And see him again!”

You snort in disbelief even though your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest. “...right. Because people just leave their passports lying around as calling cards these days.”

Leticia flips through the passport, eyes widening at all of the stamps. “I mean...this is Kim Namjoon we’re talking about. Doesn’t he lose his passport all the time?”

“Exactly, so I-”

“So you need to return it to him,” Rebecca interrupts, smiling devilishly. “C’mon. Text him and tell him. He’s probably freaking out right now.”

You groan, but know that you should. Pulling your phone out, you ignore your friends’ cheers. “If I embarrass myself, so help me...”

You text him. 

Or rather, you begin to type out some form of message before groaning and throwing your phone at Rebecca. Naturally, she grabs your phone and types out a message, sending it off before you can even get a look at it. 

In your despair and agony (yes, you’re aware that you often overreact), you don’t realize what’s transpired until the girls are squealing over Namjoon’s response. 

“Look, look!” Rebecca yells, thrusting your phone toward your face. “Isn't he so cute?!”

Kim Namjoon 😱😍: I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I left that there. Are you available tonight? We could meet up somewhere? Sorry again for the inconvenience.

You groan, snatching your phone back. “Ugh, you people. Can’t even function over a simple text.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Leticia chides. “Weren’t you the one going on about how good he smells for the past thirty minutes?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You do.

Me: Sure, that’s fine! 

Me: Where do you need me to go?

You’ve all piled into the back of Leticia’s car by the time Namjoon responds. What he says makes your jaw drop for the second time that day.

Kim Namjoon 😱😍: About that...do you know where the Grammy’s are being held tonight?

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Leticia asks, looking back at in through the rear view mirror. “What did he say?”

You furiously type out a response, heart rate picking up. “Umm...I forgot that the Grammy’s were happening tonight.”

Me: I think so...why?

“It sounds like he wants to meet there...?”

Kim Namjoon 😱😍: I’ll get you a backstage pass, if you’re alright with it. Some of the staff will be there to help you out, you can leave the passport with them.

Your heart sinks a little. “But it sounds like I’ll just be meeting with his staff. Makes sense, I guess. He’ll be busy and - what?”

Bianca and Rebecca are staring me down, and you can practically see the gears shifting in their minds. 

“Why don’t we get you ready for this little rendezvous?” Bianca asks, rubbing her hands together like some evil villain. 

“But I’m not even going to see him,” You protest. “And I’m just going backstage! Nobody is going to see me.”

“Doubt it,” Rebecca states. “He just doesn’t want to freak you out. He’ll be there. I’m sure of it. And when he sees you...”

“He’ll think I look ridiculous!” You shout, staring at your reflection in the mirror with disgust. “This is horrible.”

Indeed, the gaudy red dress was a bit too much. Even the consultant of the shop appeared inclined to agree with you. 

“You’re right,” Leticia sighed. “Try on the next one.”

It hadn’t taken too much convincing to get you to go to the nearest dress store, you friends absolutely positive that you would see Namjoon tonight. When you did, he was sure to be dressed to the nine’s. You just didn’t want to look too out of place.

Casually formal.

If that’s a thing. 

So far, it’s been a nightmare trying to find a suitable dress. Most have been bordering on junior prom vibes, however you try to cling to hope as you try on the next dress. 

It’s a beautiful black dress with flowers stitched onto the lace overlay. The black slip falls to your knees, the overlay brushing against your calves.

When you exit the room, it’s easy to tell that this one is going to be the favorite. Especially once Rebecca chuckles under her breath. 

“Oh, he’s gonna freak.”

One purchase and makeover later, you smile at your reflection in the mirror. You went for a more natural look, your hair falling in gentle curls and light makeup bringing out your eyes. You’re just slipping on your shoes when you get a text from Namjoon.

Kim Namjoon 😱😍: Ok, I hope you’re still ok to meet up! I’m so sorry again. I’ll send over the link for your pass. They’ll just scan it at the main entrance and then again at entrance 3. Sound good?

You take a deep breath, looking to your friends for support. They nod encouragingly, Leticia clutching her keys. All four of you will drive over. Hopefully they’ll manage to keep you sane on the ride over.

Me: Sounds perfect. And really, don’t worry about it. It happens to the best of us.

You’ve barely gotten into the car when Namjoon sends you the link as well as another message. 

Kim Namjoon 😱😍: You know, if you leave right now there should be a few refreshments leftover from our staff. ;) Let me know when you get here!

“Oh, this man is going to be the death of me.”

The entire area where the Grammy’s are being held are packed with cars and fans clambering to get a look at their favorite celebrities on the red carpet. The red carpet interviews have only just begun, and you can’t help but wonder if Namjoon and the rest of the boys are out there already.

Smoothing out your dress, you can’t decide if you want them to be or not. Your heart is pounding from the overload of excitement and nerves. 

With shaking hands your extend the barcode Namjoon sent you to the security at the main entrance and again at the 3rd. Once the car has been parked, you send a message off to Namjoon letting him know that you’ve arrived. Chances are he’s on the red carpet and isn’t going to see it, but at least you did what he asked. 

“We’ll be right here when you’re finished!” Rebecca calls out as you clamber out of the car. You can’t help but laugh, feeling like a little kid being dropped off for school.

“You look freaking hot!” Bianca shouts, making you rush away and into the hallway crowded with people. 

You follow the signs plastered up on the walls, pointing you toward BTS. Hopefully there are some people that will know you’re coming-

“Joon, we’ve really got to get out there now,” a voice you recognize as J-hope drifts over to you as you make your way toward an open door. 

“I know,” Namjoon’s voice replies, and just like that your stomach is filled with butterflies tying impressive knots in your stomach. “But she just texted saying she’s here. I feel like it’s rude to just leave her to see the staff and not thank her in person.”

Jin’s voice is loud and clear. “Don’t lie to us. We all know that you just want to see her again. I’m starting to think you left your passport on purpose.”

You hold your breath, willing your cheeks to go back to a normal color. It does’t work. 

“Ok boys, 5 more minutes. Tops. You’ve really got to get going, people are waiting.” Someone says over their shoulder as they step out of the room. They’re eyes almost immediately land on you, going a little wide. “Oh, are you here with the passport?”

Everyone seems to quiet down inside of the room, but a few harsh whispers and some footsteps later Namjoon is popping his head out of the door. As soon as he sees you his eyes light up even as he turns a little red. 

“You made it!” He grins. “And wow. You look...”

You look down at your dress, fidgeting under the sudden attention. “A little out of place, I know. I didn’t know if it was ok to show up just in casual wear, so this is kinda what happened.”

Namjoon steps out into the hallway, and you swear you can hear Jungkook whining about how he wanted to see what’s happening. He’s quickly shushed by the others. 

You’re engulfed by that same smell as this morning, and it takes everything in your willpower not to close your eyes and breathe it in. Namjoon must have barely reapplied his cologne. 

“I was going to say you look stunning.” Now arriving just a step away from you, Namjoon smiles softly down at you. “Absolutely stunning.”

Your hands shake as you are at a loss for words, rummaging around your purse until you produce Namjoon’s passport. Staring at his tie and nowhere else, you extend it to him.

“H-here you go.”

As if trying to kill you right then and there, Namjoon’s fingers linger over your own as he takes the passport, quietly thanking you. “Um, this may sound a little strange but...”

You look up at him, a bit distracted by the way his hair is styled away from his face. Only a couple of thick strands kiss his forehead, making him look like he just stepped out of a novel. 

Namjoon’s eyes dance over your face, clearly displaying his nerves. At least you’re not the only one. 

“What is it?” You ask.

“Well, if you’re not busy tonight...would you maybe want to stay?” You barely stop yourself from passing out, digging your nails into your palm to ground yourself. Namjoon chews on the inside of his cheek. “Our staff have reserved seats by us, and we’re planning on ordering some food after-”

“Yes.” You blurt out the word before Namjoon can finish speaking, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he looks positively relieved at your interruption. 

“Really?” He swallows, playing with his cufflinks even as he stares into your eyes. “I don’t want to pressure you or anything...”

You shake your head, but stop. “I would love to, but...I actually have my friends that dropped me off waiting for me in the parking lot. I can’t make them wait for me like that-”

Now Namjoon cuts you off. “They can come too! And invite them to eat with us after! Really, the more the merrier!”

You blink up at this man, completely floored. “But, they don’t have dresses.”

Checking a watch that you’re sure costs more than your entire year’s rent, Namjoon thinks for a moment before looking back at you. You can’t help but grin at the way his eyes sweep over your figure and face again. 

Bianca was right. You do look freaking hot.

“Do you think they could go change and be back within two hours?”

You mull it over, pulling your phone out and shooting off a text to Rebecca. “I bet they could, with the right motivation. But are you sure that’s alright?”

Namjoon smiles broadly at you. “Oh yeah. It’s more than alright.” He hesitates, rocking back on his heels. “So...you’ll stay?”

You return his smile. “I’ll stay.”

“Great!” Jin’s voice rings out into the hallway, making you jump. “Now will you bring her in here so we can warn her about how weird you are, Namjoon? We’ve only got so much time.”

Laughing at the expression of long-suffering on Namjoon’s face, you take the arm he extends to you. Before you walk through the door to meet the rest of the members, you lean up on your tippy-toes to whisper something to Namjoon. He cranes his neck, listening to your every word. 

"Thanks for losing your passport.”

Namjoon smiles sheepishly, and every thought eddies out of your brain as his adorable dimples make an appearance. “My pleasure.”

masterlist

[panickingpansexuality]

Telling Jumin about some of the abuse getaway information

TW: Abuse

You and Jumin were having dinner with your mom at her house. The night had been going great and your mom seemed to like him. Jumin excused himself to the restroom when your mom took you to the living room.

Your mom had sat you down on the couch and with a worried expression started to ask you questions.

"You have a separate account right?"

"Yes Mama."

"And you still have that nice jewelry I gave you?"

You nodded.

"Everything is ok right?"

"Yes Mother." You press. "Really he isn't like that."

"That's what I thought too." She said grabbing your hand.

"You can sell your ring too." She said. "It has to be the first thing to go MC."

"Mama." You sigh out. "Its ok really. He's never going to hurt me."

Your mother looks at you and nods, she Pat's your hands and looks behind you. Jumin is standing at the doorway and you get up to give him a peck on his cheek. He wraps his arm around your waist and gives it a light squeeze.

When you two leave the car ride is quiet your hand is gripping his to try and let him know everything is alright.

"I love you." You tell him, he's looking out the window and gives you a tight smile.

"How much did you hear?" You ask. "With my mom?"

"When she told you to sell your ring." He says in a tight voice. His eyes are full of tears.

"I'm not leaving you." You tell him softly your own eyes filling with tears. "I swear I'm not."

"Then what was that about?"

"Oh Jumin.." you sigh out. Tears fell from his eyes and you reached up to wipe them.

"There's something passed down." You begin. "From woman to woman, about how to leave a man in case he ever becomes abusive."

"What?!" He says. "Does your mother think that I'm abusing you?!"

"No! No!" You say quickly. "She worries too much, she was abused and of course I've had a share of relationships that didn't go smoothly...."

His hand moves from ours and wraps itself around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"So we have rules in place, rules that help us survive. Some of them are a but outdated but they help us.."

"I see.." he says. "So you cant ever let your guard down.."

"I do around you." You say kissing his cheek. "I have sooo many rules broken because I trust you."

You two arrive at the house and he goes straight to Elizabeth. You can tell he's not sure how to feel about this, you go and sit by him.

"I'm gonna tell you them." You say. "Every last one I was taught so you know I trust you."

Jumin looks at you surprised and nods.

So you start

"Never let him know where your personal documents are, Birth certificate, ID, Social Security number.."

"But I know where all of that is.."

"I know." You tell him with a soft smile.

"Have a separate bank account."

"I have one." You explain "Because I am not going to use your money to pay bills or get myself things."

"Jewlry can be pawned off even for a little. Some places will even give you money for donations."

"Gain his trust so that he suspects nothing, keep your head low until the end. Fight back back only when you know it wont cost your life."

"Let work know so that they cant come to your work."

"Once you leave constantly stay with someone. Sometimes leaving with your purse is all you can do. Leaving for work and then not coming home is one way to get out."

"Have a spare phone under. Flip phone is the cheapest, new SIM card and make sure your partner doesnt know about it."

"Do you..have one?" He asked.

"No." You promise. "Elizabeth would've found it by now even if I did."

It's a joke and you both know it but it feels wrong to try and joke right now. Still, Jumin gives you a faux smile. You took his hand and kissed it. You got up and moved with him to the couch.

"Always know where to go." You say. "A friends house, a shelter, churches, even if you save up for a shittt apartment."

"What about children?" He asks "what if you have children.."

You squeeze his hand tightly and release a breath of air to stop you from crying.

"Call schools to let them know what's happening and get them into a different school once you're away from them."

"Once you're away." You continue. "You change all passwords you have, throw out the phone your abuser is in and use the other phone and redirect your mail."

"Is that all?" He asks.

"All I can remember.." you say.

He's silent, he looks over at you and says nothing. He squeezes your hand so tight it hurts.

"Jumin." You say. "I know you would never hurt me. I trust you more than anyone I've ever dated and I am so happy to be with you. I am so happy that I get to call you my husband.

I know I can trust you with this information and know that I will never have to use it with you."

He pulls you into his chest and hugs you as tight as he can. He knows all of this he knows you trust him and that your mom worries too much. He just hates how you carry this information. How long have you had it?

"I know." He whispers out. "I know love. I know. I love you so much."

He holds you like your his lifeline. He knows that if you two have a daughter that she'll be passed this information and he can do nothing to protect her...but if they had a son...he would make sure that he would never be the reason that their lover had to use that information.

(A/N: This is not a stab at men and abuse that happens towards them this a nod to women who are being abused. This same information can be used for men in abusive situations.)

[bentforkent]

polaroid

spencer reid x gender neutral!reader

no content warnings (except sweet fluff and banter, as per usual)

word count: 1581

in which spencer is your cute roommate 

“spencer reid, i swear to god, if you don’t take out this trash like i asked you to two days ago, i might scream.”

“you’re screaming anyways, to be fair.”

you let out a frustrated groan, shaking your head at him and stalking to your room.

spencer was a great roommate, usually. he’d listed his guest room for rent years ago, and you, desperate for a space to call your own, had jumped. his apartment was nice, dark walls covered in organized clutter spencer had accumulated over the years. when you came to tour the space, you peered up at his walls. there were newspaper clippings, receipts, nightclub wristbands, polaroid photos, all organized into a neat grid.

“okay, i’ll take the room,” you said, deciding that a man who was this meticulous and sentimental couldn’t possibly murder you in your sleep.  you would’ve rented the room either way, honestly, the price of the place was too good to pass up. you figured that’s probably because not many people wanted to live with a random man, but you had chalked spencer up to be pretty much harmless. “under one condition,” you stated.

spencer was taken aback by this, not really believing you were in the position to put stipulations onto your agreement. “what’s your condition?” he inquired, choosing his words carefully so as not to promise you anything.

“i get to put some of my stuff up on the walls too.”

this he could get behind. at least you weren’t asking to completely overhaul his interior design. in fact, you embraced it, and wanted to be involved. he liked that. his last roommate had been somewhat of a recluse, and as much as spencer was okay with not being bothered, the roommate’s presence made his apartment feel significantly less like home.

but when you moved in, you never left him alone. spencer’s introverted nature means he should’ve been completely bothered by this. but you’re so warm, such a presence, that he embraced it. every time you begged him to watch a movie with you, go get dinner with you, or to just sit at the kitchen table with you while he did his paperwork, his heart stirred. he enjoyed living with you, and you him. except when he forgets to take out the trash.

“y/n,” he whines, following you. spencer, in all of his softness, can’t handle when you’re upset with him. “i’m sorry i didn’t take out the trash,” he says, pushing your door open and flopping onto your bed next to you.

you look up from your phone to glance at him.

“i would love to get takeout tonight, but we can’t because there’s nowhere to throw the containers away,” you say dryly, turning back to your phone, and carding one hand through his hair. he makes a noise of dissent and sticks out his bottom lip. you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger.  

“well i could go take it out now, but you’re playing with my hair,” he says. you scratch at his scalp gently, then remove your hand.

“go, then. i’ll order food. thai?”

when he comes back, you’re sitting on the rug of the living room, flicking through your dvd collection.

“wanna watch a movie?” you ask. “i’m picking.”

he shakes his head with a laugh. “i can’t remember the last time i picked, y/n.”

“yeah, you like boring movies.” you look up at him, and he gives you a pleading look. “fine. you can pick.”

he ends up picking some foreign movie you have to rent online. he promises profusely that he’ll translate in your ear the whole time, and that’s enough to sell you. when your food arrives, you place his meal on a plate like he likes it, and opt to eat yours out of the styrofoam box. you curl up against his side, and he wraps his arm around you.

“thanks for taking out the trash, finally,” you murmur. he shushes you. god forbid you interrupt his movie.

he begins to whisper translations to you, and you’re immediately tense. you’re overwhelmed. his arm is around you, his lips brushing against your ear, his hand in your hair. and spencer’s just your roommate, you know this. but that doesn’t mean he’s not attractive. anyone with eyes could see that. you just had to keep that to yourself, because you lived together and it would be weird if he ever found out you had a tiny crush on him.

okay, a big crush on him.

you discovered your feelings for spencer a few months ago when the two of you had spent the night at a hotel for the weekend, simply because spencer was off of work and you wanted to lounge by the pool with him. both of you needed to relax, and a mini-vacation had been perfect. there was only one bed in the room, because you booked the smallest (and cheapest) room possible, but neither of you were phased. you’d spent the night in each other’s beds multiple times before, usually after a particularly long, deep conversation or a movie night.

“do you think god exists?” you asked, lying in bed with him.

“oh my god, go to sleep, y/n,” spencer groaned. you pouted, turning away from him and hiking the blanket up to your chin.

a beat passes.

“do you want to go explore?” you asked. there was always something exciting about finding a weird room in a hotel you’d never been to before.

spencer let out a heavy sigh and sat up, flicking the lamp on. “no, y/n.” you knew he was irritated with you. it was 3 am, but you just couldn’t sleep. his dark circles were pronounced, his shoulders tense. “how can i help you right now?” he asked.

“you don’t want to help me, you just want to go to sleep,” you said petulantly, back still turned to him.

“if i help you, i can fall asleep, because you won’t be bothering me with all your questions,” he replied, voice low and gravelly.

“no, turn the lights off.”

“you’re so dramatic.”

“leave me alone, i’m trying to sleep, spencer.”

spencer was too tired to argue with you, so he turned off the light and laid back down, desperate for sleep. it took all of two minutes for you to open your mouth again.

“spencer?”

he didn’t answer, but you knew he was awake from the pattern of his breathing.

“spencer,” you said again, dragging out the word in a sing-songy tone and flipping to face him.

he opened his heavy eyes and gazed at you. “shut up and go to sleep,” he said, and punctuated his sentence with a firm kiss to your lips. you were stunned into silence by the action. satisfied, spencer turned away from you and promptly fell asleep. you didn’t say another word until morning, and even then, neither one of you brought it up, falling back into your normal relationship with ease.

as you’re watching spencer’s russian movie, he can tell you’re on edge. he intentionally brushes his lips against your earlobe just to watch you squirm. didn’t you know he’s a profiler? he’s had you figured out for years. he knows all your tells. he knows that you’re head-over-heels for him. he likes this, because he feels the same way. spencer takes pleasure in bothering you simply because it gives him power that he doesn’t generally have with you. you’re so headstrong, so sure of yourself. but when his breath is fanning over your neck, he’s in control.

you pull away from his grasp suddenly, accidentally flinging a bit of pad thai across the couch. he chuckles, and you narrow your eyes at him at the sound. “you’re doing this on purpose!”

“doing what on purpose?” he says coyly.

“getting me all hot and bothered!”

“is that what’s happening?” he asks, a teasing tone to his voice. he sets his plate down on the coffee table, but you hold your takeout container to your chest as if it creates a barrier between you and him. your eyes are wide, and again, you’re surprised into silence.

“when are you gonna admit it, y/n?” he asks. if this were a normal conversation between the two of you, you would ask him “admit what,” but you knew what he was talking about.

“you’re mean,” you say simply, placing your meal down and crawling over to him. “you win. kiss me now.”

he cups your face gently and pulls you into a deep kiss. there’s no hesitation before you’re kissing him back, moving closer to straddle his waist. he moans softly into your mouth, and you take his parted lips as an invitation to deepen the kiss. your hands find their way into his hair, tugging softly. for all of his cockiness earlier, you’re in control now. he’s putty in your hands. his hands reach the hem of your shirt, and he pulls away to ask you for permission.

“wait!” you exclaim. you clamber out of his lap, grabbing his polaroid camera off of the shelf where he keeps it. he gives you a questioning look, but you shake your head. “smile, spence,” you sing. he grins. he looks happy. his lips are swollen, you note, but you think only you would notice. his eyes are honey colored, illuminated by the forgotten tv playing across from him. you snap the picture, and pin it to the wall.  

(author’s note: if you’re reading this and you liked it, read my series to the moon and to saturn!)

[breckstonevailskier]

Rewriting Cobra Kai Season 2 to eliminate the love triangles

There's a lot to love about Cobra Kai. But I have to admit season 2 is a bit of a weak season. And one of the areas that I view as a weak point is with the teen romance and love triangles.

Love triangles are one of the cheapest sources of conflict, given that you're either pitting two girls against each other in a competition for a guy's love, or two guys against each other for a girl's love. We see both of those in season 2 with Robby/Sam/Miguel and Sam/Miguel/Tory.

Obviously, the pairings for the season of Sam/Robby and Miguel/Tory were rebounds because it's typical in a show like this to break up an endgame couple early, then have them get back together later. Thing is, the rivalries of Sam and Tory, and Miguel and Robby, already have a lot of meat for them that doesn't hinge on the relationships.

With Sam and Tory, it's kinda ridiculous that the whole rivalry is basically over Miguel's heart when it could've been about so much more. It could've been built more upon the wrong perceptions that they had of each other from their first encounter at the beach club in 2x04: Sam viewing Tory as a thief, and Tory viewing Sam as a privileged rival who's never had to deal with hardship.

With Robby and Miguel, the show focuses a lot on how Miguel views Robby as a rival in their affections for Sam, but not really about another source to their rivalry: Johnny. It would've been interesting if the rivalry was built around Robby's resentment towards Miguel for getting Johnny's attention and affection, and in turn for Miguel to feel conflicted about his anger towards Robby because he's aware about Robby being Johnny's son.

There's also the fact that I don't think Sam/Robby and Miguel/Tory really have chemistry compared to Sam/Miguel and Robby/Tory. Sam and Robby have more sibling vibes than romantic ones. In the case of Miguel and Tory, Tory pursued Miguel and he went along with it because she was offering herself as a rebound girl, and the whole thing felt like a temporary relationship to tide him over before he got back together with Sam (and he was a pretty bad boyfriend to her in turn).

So my solution to the mess is to, well...to fix the problem, you have to go back into season 1 and not have Sam break up with Miguel at the tournament. Keep Sam and Miguel in a relationship for the duration of season 2, while having Tory get together with Robby in season 2. Here's how that would go.

SEASON 1

Episode 9:

In this episode, Sam returned home, planning to come clean to her dad about Miguel (and prepared to take the risk of him not approving of the relationship because Miguel is in Cobra Kai), only for her mom to confront her about the hit and run and ground her. Because her phone was confiscated, she can't reach out to Miguel, who is becoming paranoid in light of Johnny's biased stories to him about Daniel and seeing Sam being friendly with Robby. He gets drunk, and tries to take a swing at Robby when he brings Sam over so she can explain the situation, accidentally hitting Sam. Subsequently, they break up after he refuses to apologize for resorting to violence on Robby, and she leaves the tournament early, unable to bear what Miguel's turned into under the Cobra Kai teachings, while Miguel fights dirty against Robby in the finals and wins.

The change:

Sam returns home, planning to come clean to her dad about Miguel. Her mom confronts her about the hit-and-run...but she isn't quick to ground Sam. First, Amanda asks Sam for her side of the story about the hit-and-run. This, I think, is a very necessary change because, in the canon episode, Amanda's a bit of a hypocrite here. She's rushing to judgment based solely on Johnny's word without hearing Sam's side of the events or considering the possibility that Johnny's being biased, something that she had chided Daniel for doing earlier (regarding Johnny bringing to his attention what Kyler and his gang had been doing to Miguel).

So Sam explains what happened: Yasmine was texting while driving and they collided with a car that was parked illegally in the street outside the All-Valley Sports Arena. They were prepared to get out and leave contact information when a drunk Johnny began banging on the backseat window, making them drive off out of fear for their safety.

While Sam has told her side of things, she's still grounded for not coming clean sooner. But before Amanda can confiscate Sam's phone, Sam brings up that she has plans to see Miguel that night and he'll be worried sick if he can't contact her. She comes clean to her mom about how, "You know about that viral video of the kid who beat up Kyler and his crew in the cafeteria a few months back? Well, I've been dating that kid for the last few months." And she explains everything: his name is Miguel Diaz, and he's a student at Cobra Kai, and she was planning on telling Daniel about all this.

Of course, Amanda is aware Daniel will probably not take the news that their daughter is dating a Cobra Kai well, given Daniel's personal beef with Cobra Kai (what with getting Armand Zakarian to jack up the rent on the strip mall, and Louie hiring his biker buddies to destroy Johnny's car as retaliation for the billboard penis), and how he's not above intruding on his daughter's social life (given what happened with Kyler). But Sam insists Miguel's a good person, and that if Amanda gets to know Miguel through and through, then she can help Sam stand up to Daniel when Daniel inevitably blows up. More importantly, her best friend Aisha's in Cobra Kai, and can also vouch for Miguel's character. Amanda agrees to Sam's idea, and lets her call Miguel to invite him over.

So Miguel abandons the Cobra Kais' party and comes over to the LaRussos' house. He's already feeling jealous and insecure, because he knows Sam is hiding their relationship from Daniel, and the previous day, he went to her house uninvited and saw her laughing and talking to Robby. This was right after he'd heard Johnny's biased story about Daniel "stealing" Ali from him. So when Amanda lets Miguel in, he's a bit on edge, but Amanda mistakes it as him just being nervous at him coming over to his girlfriend's fancy house. Nonetheless, she's quickly won over by Miguel's personality, and when she asks him about "Why did you take up karate?" determines that he's the real deal, especially when he mentions how he took up karate to defend himself from bullies (much like Daniel did).

But things change when Robby arrives at the house for a training session with Daniel. Robby and Miguel recognize each other, and immediately Miguel's insecurities come to his head. He tries to attack Robby, but Sam steps between them, calms Miguel down, and explains that whatever Miguel saw, it's not what it looks like. Robby's just a friend and a teen working for the LaRussos' dealership who is also being trained by Daniel in the art of Miyagi-Do. Miguel listens to her, accepts what she's saying, and relaxes, no longer seeing Robby as a threat to his affections for Sam. However, Sam also notices the disdainful look Robby showed the moment he saw Miguel, but can't figure out why as she nor her parents are aware that Robby is Johnny's son.

When Johnny and Daniel return home from their day out, they agree to a "Rocky III-style" match in Daniel's dojo, but find Robby there waiting, and also find Sam with Miguel and Amanda. Things get heated, the altercation where Daniel's trophy gets broken happens, and ultimately everyone blows up at each other:

Daniel is mad over the fact that his daughter is dating a Cobra Kai boy and about the whole fact that Robby is Johnny's son.

Johnny's mad at Daniel because Daniel is training his son. He is also offended by the fact that Daniel is mad about Miguel being in Cobra Kai, causing him to get defensive of Miguel.

In Johnny's rush to defend Miguel, he only succeeds in angering Robby, who's now mad at him for showing his favoritism for Miguel. Robby is also mad at Miguel for the fact that Sam is already taken.

Miguel is mad at Daniel for not approving of him, and mad at Johnny for escalating the situation.

Sam is mad at her dad for not reacting well to Miguel, and mad at Miguel and Robby for letting there be bad blood between them.

Amanda is mad at Johnny for terrorizing Sam, and also mad at Daniel for flipping out at Miguel.

So the whole thing ends with Johnny driving away angrily with Miguel, Daniel banishing Robby from the house and the dealership, Sam storming off to her bedroom in tears, and Daniel also being banished to the couch by Amanda.

Episode 10:

At the LaRusso house, everyone broods over the events of the previous night. Amanda puts Daniel in his place and calls him out on his behavior towards Robby and Miguel, with her saying "You really want Sam to shut you out again?" He apologizes to Sam and Amanda for losing it, and reluctantly agrees to sit down and get to know Miguel after the tournament.

Everything at the tournament is the same up until the conversation Sam has with Miguel right before the finals. She apologizes for her dad's behavior, and tells him that her dad wants to get to know him. Miguel accepts her apology, thanks her, and agrees that they'll talk after the tournament.

Subsequently, Sam stays for the finals rather than go home early. Miguel doesn't threaten to hurt Robby, and wanting to make the best impression for Daniel, he chooses to fight cleanly rather than exploit Robby's injury, an act that baffles Miguel's fellow Cobra Kai students. Even though the match ties at 2-2, Robby's injury puts him at too much of a disadvantage, and Miguel earns the winning point not by attacking Robby's shoulder, but by using the Crane Kick (to which he subsequently gives Daniel a bow of respect).

Subsequently, Sam is among those who run over to him, gives him an approving hug, and then goes over to check on Robby and Johnny. Meanwhile, Sam goes with Miguel to the victory celebration at Applebee's. And afterwards, he goes with her to her house for a sparring session of their own.

On the drive home, Robby is sullen about his second place finish, but Daniel assures him that he is as much of a winner as Miguel. Robby expresses concern that Cobra Kai is going to become the premier dojo in the Valley, but Daniel--bitter over Johnny's behavior towards his daughter, and Hawk's behavior in the semi-finals--replies, "Over my dead body", taking Robby to Mr. Miyagi's old house which he plans to convert into a full on dojo for Miyagi-Do.

The next day, Miguel comes over to the LaRussos' for dinner. He is hesitant, since besides what he's seen of Daniel, the only other things he knows about Daniel are from the biased narrative that Johnny gave him about what happened in 1984, and the way Daniel flipped out at seeing him. Daniel apologizes for his behavior the other day, but explains that the name Cobra Kai just brings up lots of bad memories with him. So we get the car scene from season 3 episode 9 where Daniel fills in the gaps about what Johnny didn't tell Miguel, and to further clarify why he doesn't trust Cobra Kai and Johnny, also brings up what happened when he was manipulated by Terry Silver and Mike Barnes. At the end of it, Daniel decides that he's okay with Miguel dating Sam, but this hasn't done anything to cool the blood between him and Johnny because of Hawk injuring Robby and Johnny's own actions with the hit-and-run.

SEASON 2:

Episodes 1 and 2:

So for season 2, Miguel's arc is about him being torn between Cobra Kai and his loyalty to Johnny, and his relationship with Sam and the new respect Daniel has for him. Sam and Miguel are still dating. Robby still doesn't like that Sam is with Miguel, and still dislikes Miguel because of Johnny's favoritism for him, but decides to stay friends with Sam after she convinces Daniel to take Robby in. Robby also tries to be civil to Miguel for Daniel's and Sam's sake. But with Miguel spending so much time with Sam and being practically a fixture at the LaRusso house, it's hard for Robby not to grow envious of him given all that other baggage.

Episode 3:

The season is mostly the same, up until episode 3 at Valley Fest. In canon, Daniel is having a hard time finding new students, who are put off by his chore-based training methods. To help get exposure, Daniel decides to hold a solemn karate demonstration with Sam and Robby at the upcoming Valley Fest fair. In canon, when Johnny hears about this, Cobra Kai interrupt them with a much more flashy demonstration of their own set to "Back in the Game" by Airbourne, winning over the crowd and stealing the spotlight from Miyagi-Do as Daniel and his students look on with contempt.

In this timeline, however, Valley Fest puts Miguel's loyalties to question. If nothing changes, and Cobra Kai hijacks the demo as happens in canon, Sam is mad at Miguel for raining on Miyagi-Do's parade and not telling her about it in advance. So Miguel, not wanting to jeopardize his relationship with Sam, or at the minimum interested in softening the blow, either gives Sam an advance tip-off and preemptive apology, or better yet, convinces Johnny to wait until Miyagi-Do has finished before they do their show (risking being called a pussy by Johnny). Sam still has some bitter feelings towards Cobra Kai for putting on a demo that overshadowed Miyagi-Do's, though accepts Miguel's apology about the matter, as happens in canon when she argues with Aisha about this at the beach club and they decide it's not worth fighting over.

Episode 4:

Episode 4 is where Sam's rivalry with Tory begins in canon. Daniel takes Robby and Sam to a beach club, where his attempts to promote Miyagi-Do to local parents are overshadowed by Cobra Kai's display at Valley Fest, with Aisha's mother praising the difference that Cobra Kai has made in her daughter's life. Meanwhile, Sam tries to make up with Aisha, who is upset about the slight against Cobra Kai in Daniel’s ad, but ends up in a quarrel with Tory, whom she accuses of stealing her mother's wallet (having witnessed Tory stealing liquor at the club beforehand). Tory responds by pushing Sam into a dessert table and walking away with Aisha.

Not much about this would change, especially where the rivalry between Sam and Tory is concerned, because it's important for me to note that in canon this inciting incident for the rivalry was before Tory hooked up with Miguel. That wasn't until the next episode.

Meanwhile, through circumstances, Tory also runs into Robby, befriends him, and enters into a relationship with him. In season 3, we see them form a connection after Robby joins Cobra Kai over how they're the ones who bore the blunt of the punishment for the school brawl, and their troubled home lives. So we see that here, with Tory also using elements of the playbook she used in the actual timeline to seduce Miguel, which in this case means convincing Robby that he needs to pretend that he's over Sam. Kreese finds out about the relationship between Robby and Tory, and since he's wanted to snag Robby this whole time, he decides to use Tory as a pawn to influence Robby, in hopes of both eventually getting Robby to join Cobra Kai while also getting revenge on Daniel for humiliating him and Terry Silver back in 1985.

Episode 5:

In episode 5, the mall fight still happens, but with Miguel taking Robby's place. It would work nicely since Miguel is Demetri's friend too. (Robby's on a date with Tory, which is why he's not here)

In this version of events, Sam and Miguel go to the mall with Demetri. Demetri is confronted and attacked by Hawk and several other Cobra Kai students as a reprisal for his Yelp review. Demetri flees into the food court, where Sam and Miguel come to his aid. Despite being outnumbered, they utilize the "wheel technique" to soundly defeat their opponents (Miguel knows it because Daniel, at Sam's request, agreed to give Miguel a private one-on-one lesson with him and Sam in the LaRussos' home dojo). Proud of his students, Daniel resolves to continue training Demetri at a slower pace, and also convinces Miguel to consider joining Miyagi-Do, saying that Miguel could use some new fighting moves for when he defends his title at the next All-Valley Tournament. Sam and Miguel have an intimate moment afterwards (either a passionate makeout session, or they make love in Sam's bedroom).

Hawk is infuriated by Moon breaking up with him AND the fact that Miguel is consorting with the enemy by aiding Sam (in fact, he's noticed Miguel growing distant from him and the rest of Cobra Kai ever since the tournament, having spent more time with Sam than with his friends from the dojo). So when Kreese notices Hawk blowing off steam, he encourages him to continue the fight. That night, Hawk and his Cobra Kai followers trash the Miyagi-Do dojo and steal Mr. Miyagi's Medal of Honor.

Enraged, Daniel confronts Johnny in front of the students at the Cobra Kai dojo. Although Johnny honestly denies any knowledge of the incident, the two nearly come to blows until Miguel steps in and forces them to stand down, getting Daniel to remember his promise not to alienate Miguel from him. While Daniel predictably fails to get any restitution out of Johnny, he nonetheless succeeds in convincing a number of Cobra Kai students to walk out and join Miyagi-Do instead...including Miguel. There's a small smirk on Kreese's face as Miguel leaves, since Miguel's no longer around to oppose him, and he hopes the friction between Robby and Miguel will get Robby to leave Miyagi-Do and come over to Cobra Kai.

Episode 6:

So for the next two episodes, Miguel is now at Miyagi-Do. Although Robby does not trust Miguel (thanks to Kreese using Tory to indirectly manipulate him), Daniel reveals that he himself used to be Cobra Kai before seeing the error of his ways, and tells the class that it doesn't matter who they were before — as of now, they are all Miyagi-Do. They work together to raise a heavy stone slab that Hawk's gang knocked over.

At the Cobra Kai dojo, Johnny punishes the students with strenuous exercises, seeking to root out who was responsible for trashing the Miyagi-Do dojo while also trying to reach out to Miguel, trying to get him to come back (with no success). He then receives a call which brings him to the hospital to visit his old friend Tommy, who is suffering from a terminal illness. Along with Bobby and Jimmy, the former Cobras resolve to treat Tommy to one last day of fun. His departure allows Kreese to corrupt the other Cobra Kais, moreso than in canon where Miguel was around to raise objections. The OG Cobra Kais, besides taking issue with Johnny for letting Kreese back in the picture, don't exactly help Johnny when they suggest that maybe it's for the best that Miguel is on the side of the LaRussos for now, as they've come to develop a lot of respect for Daniel and Mr. Miyagi since the tournament in 1984.

Episode 7:

I'd divide up the training sessions of Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do to happen on separate days. Miguel participates with Sam in the meat locker training scene, taking Robby's place in the canon scene, while pairing Robby up with Demetri or Chris. Meanwhile, Hawk acts as Tory's partner in Coyote Creek instead of Miguel.

Meanwhile, Miguel suspects that Hawk was behind the trashing of Miyagi-Do and it was as payback for the mall fight. Finding out somehow that Cobra Kai are training the following day at Coyote Creek (because someone, maybe Stingray, was foolish enough to post it on social media), he decides to bring Sam and some of the other Miyagi-Dos to ambush the Cobra Kais. Miguel does the ambush on and beatdown of Hawk and takes back the medal of honor, while Sam attacks Tory and gives her a beating, even though Tory wasn't a participant in the vandalism of Miyagi-Do. Daniel's not happy with Sam or Miguel, but Sam counters that they have to show they won't stand for being picked on.

When Tory tells Robby about what happened, Robby is understandably torn on his loyalties. On the one hand, he's got to be loyal to Miyagi-Do, but Tory is his girlfriend, and his resentments towards Miguel begin to resurface. Tory is furious, recalls the same thing Kreese said to get Hawk to trash Miyagi-Do in the first place, and swears revenge on Sam. And for that matter, the Cobra Kais also want revenge on Miyagi-Do.

Episode 8:

Johnny gets Miguel to come back to Cobra Kai, now that Kreese has been expelled and isn't around to teach them in his old ways. Daniel is sad to see Miguel go, but tells Miguel that he's always welcome at their place for private sessions with Daniel and Sam. While Hawk is glad to see Miguel back, Miguel keeps him at arm's length in light of the vandalism and what happened at the mall, and Tory puts on a poker face to hide her hatred of him (which is another reason why she's targeting Sam: to hurt him by proxy).

80's night at the roller rink in canon is the first time Sam and Tory have crossed paths since episode 4.

In canon it goes like this: Tory invites Miguel to the roller rink, and Tory trips Sam for talking to Miguel, getting Sam and Robby ejected from the rink.

In the alternate timeline, it goes like this: Tory invites Robby to the roller rink, and she kisses Robby in front of Sam, something Sam doesn't react well to because she sees Tory as dragging Robby down and potentially undoing the hard work Robby has put into turning his life around ever since he entered the LaRussos' lives. Miguel tries to smooth things over with Tory for Coyote Creek, with little success because he doesn't realize just how deep Tory's hatred for him and Sam is. He starts to realize this when Tory trips Sam moments later, leading Sam to retaliate with a leg sweep, and Miguel also retaliates by getting in Tory's face. As a result, both Sam and Miguel are kicked out of the rink.

Episode 9:

Moon's party goes down a bit differently when it comes to Sam, Miguel, Robby, and Tory's actions.

In the show, while Miguel is by the pool kissing Sam, Robby's inside getting food for a very drunk Sam. However, he gets distracted as the summer-long tension between Hawk and Demetri escalates, and he has to step in and defend Demetri.

Here, due to circumstances, the roles are reversed and Miguel is the one inside defending Demetri from Hawk, while it's Robby who's outside by the pool with Sam, just making sure she's all right (after all, he's the son of two alcoholics). There's no drunk kiss, and instead, Robby and Sam are being friendly, talking, and Sam is raising her concerns about Tory being a bad influence on him. They're seen by Tory, and like when Miguel approached Sam at the roller rink in the actual timeline (or in canon when Miguel saw Sam being friendly with Robby at the LaRussos'), she misinterprets the whole thing in a way that fuels her hatred for Sam that has been festering ever since Sam beat her up at Coyote Creek.

When the police break up the party, Robby hastily decides to take Sam back to Johnny's apartment like in the show. Tory happens to see him getting Sam into his car, and decides that Robby isn't entirely over his feelings for Sam. Giving her another excuse for the school brawl.

Miguel isn't anywhere near them, so he reaches out to Johnny. Johnny calls back when he gets to his apartment and finds Robby and Sam there, or Miguel finds them together there. In either case, there's a short fight between Robby and Miguel (due to Miguel, who has been fully aware this whole time that Robby had a crush on Sam, fearing Robby was taking advantage of her) that Johnny quickly breaks up, with Johnny placating Miguel enough to get him to back down. Miguel takes a few deep breaths, focuses, goes over to his apartment to get his mother, and she quickly whips up a hangover cure for Sam. Carmen also sees fit to call Sam's parents to let them know that she's all right, and they can come pick her up in the morning.

Episode 10:

The Sunday morning after Moon's party, Daniel comes by to pick Sam up. Meanwhile, Robby begins to reconcile with his father. He is thankful for Johnny's help, and when Daniel shows up to take Sam home, Robby is willing to accept the blame to prevent further tension between the two men.

When Daniel arrives, there is no "rematch" between him and Johnny, and nothing of him disowning Robby (it's actually a bit redundant seeing as Robby's going to provide Daniel with a reason to hate him later). Johnny just hands Sam over to Daniel, Daniel takes her home. He's not happy that she seemingly turned to Johnny instead of him in her hour of need, but accepts that that's an issue for another day.

Over that Sunday, Robby and Johnny reconcile at Johnny's apartment, while Miguel goes over to the LaRussos' house and talks things over with Daniel, Amanda and Sam. He apologizes for not being more attentive to Sam, as he was busy trying to defend Demetri.

That Monday, Johnny takes Robby to school. Even as Johnny's attempts to be fatherly to him on his first day of school are awkward, Robby appreciates that he is trying, and encourages his father to make peace with Daniel, believing that the two of them could learn some things from each other.

Shortly into the morning announcements, Tory assaults the teacher and seizes control of the intercom to announce an ass-beating of Sam. Like in the show, the two girls circle each other in the hallway, with Robby and Miguel frantically racing to reach them. Miguel gets there first and manages to briefly separate them, only for Robby to arrive and — believing that Miguel is attacking Tory — start his own fight with him. With Miguel also giving his all, still pissed at Robby for (seemingly) trying to take advantage of Sam.

The brawl thus plays out the same. And the outcome of the Sam vs. Tory and Miguel vs. Robby fights are the same. In the girls' fight, Tory shifts her spiked bracelet to her knuckles, slashing Sam's arm before threatening to slice her face with it. Sam regains the upper hand and knocks her down a staircase. Meanwhile, Miguel pins Robby to the floor, but, remembering what Johnny said about the difference between having no mercy and no honor, shows mercy and apologizes. However, Robby’s anger at Miguel over having everything Robby doesn't have--the tournament trophy, the romance with Sam, Johnny's preferential treatment, Daniel's approval-- boils over and he seizes the opening to attack Miguel, inadvertently kicking him over the stairway balcony and paralyzing him.

In the aftermath, Daniel is furious that both his daughter and her boyfriend, who he's come to like ever since the tournament, are both in the hospital with injuries. He also blames Tory for corrupting Robby once he learns from Sam that Robby had been dating Tory.

Season 3:

Season 3 has some differences in the details, but otherwise stays mostly the same.

-----

At the end of the day, the rivalries amongst Sam, Miguel, Robby and Tory are made a bit stronger by cutting out the love triangles. With Sam vs. Tory, that rivalry is balanced out a bit by having Sam be a contributor to the increasing tensions between them, not just Tory doing everything. While Robby vs. Miguel is a bit stronger rivalry due to the fact that Robby has to interact with Miguel a lot more, all while having to bottle up his resentments of Miguel so he doesn't lose the LaRussos' hospitality.

[doyumacy]

FALLOUT |LH| TWELVE (FINALE)

*gif not mine

PAIRING: donghyuck x reader bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of jaemin taeyong. swearing, major character death, gunshot wound, blood mentioned, grieving 

WORD COUNT: 4,6K

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN 

You groaned as, once again, you awoke sick for the fourth day.

It had been impossible to keep your breakfast down of late, and more often than not you spent most of the morning with your head in a bucket. You blamed the one week old pizza you had a week before.

That morning, Donghyuck made you your favourite breakfast before leaving with Jeno and you couldn't even have a bite. You were going to throw up again.

“Love, did I leave my phone here? I can't find it anywhere…” You heard him.

Another wave of nausea caught you, and you threw your head into the toilet. You coughed, tears in your eyes as the voice got closer. The dry heaving was almost more unpleasant than the vomiting, you lamented, leaving your throat sore and your voice hoarse.

“I am not dressed yet!” You called, not technically lying, as your pajamas clung to your body with sweat.

“I think we are past all that,” he laughed, pushing the door open.

You adjusted your pajasm as he searched, sensing the rush he was in from his near ignoring of you. "I swear I left it here before I took a shower."

He finally found it atop the mantlepiece, and turned to make a comment on it, when he noticed your appearance.

“Good god, are you okay?”

“Fine. A little nauseous, is all.”

He rushed over to you

“I think I have the stomach flu, perhaps. Stay back.”

“I likely already have it, if it is that,” he smiled. “So there is no further harm.”

"Seriously," you whined. "I don't want you to get sick."

"Are you sure you're okay? You look palid," he cupped your face.

You nodded. "Go. Jeno must be waiting for you."

Donghyuck sighed and placed a kiss on your forehead. "If by tomorrow you don't look better I'm taking you to the hospital, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

Your body ached, more so than when you were PMSing. But not every month was the same, so you thought the pill was doing its secondary effects. You grabbed your birth control pill case and before taking it, you checked your last case and realised you missed a few. You cursed.

You stared at the rows upon rows of pregnancy tests. Did women actually know which one to take? Was it common knowledge knowing which one was the best? You sighed and rubbed your eyes. You were probably overreacting. You grabbed the pink one off the shelf. It wasn’t the cheapest one, but it was a brand you remembered from commercials. You stopped by the snack stand and picked up a bar of your peanut butter and chocolate. You always hated peanut butter. Shit. You dropped the bar chocolate and sat down on the counter. The woman at the checkout rang them through and gave you the total.

You held up your bank card, “Credit.”

She nodded and pressed the button. You inserted the card into the machine, went through the motions of inputting your password and checking the account type.

“Would you like a bag?” The woman asked as you waited for the transaction to clear.

You shook your head, “No thank you.”

She handed you the two items and the receipt. You dropped them down into your purse. You exited the drug store and stood on the street corner for a minute. You couldn’t do this alone. You needed some guidance. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and texted Lena.

Can I call you? You pressed send and began walking home.

You recounted the last few times you and Donghyuck had sex. You ran your fingers through your hair, so many times. Your phone rang in your hand and Lena's caller ID showed up.

You smiled, “Hey girl.”

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” She cut right to the chase.

You thought about lying, just to spite her but you two knew each other so well that it wasn’t a surprise that she’d picked up on your worries early on.

“I bought a test.” You explained.

She squealed into the phone and you had to pull it away while she freaked out. You laughed at her reaction. Your nerves settle the tiniest bit. She already had Minah. She knew exactly what to expect. You unlocked your front door and lined it for the couch.

“Ok.” She settled in as you entered your house, “Take the test right now.”

You shook your head, “Isn’t it better to take it in the morning? I swear I heard that somewhere before.”

“Pff if you’re pregnant it doesn’t matter what time of day you take the test.” She explained.

You rolled your eyes, of course she knew best, she was a doctor and a mom after all.

“How am I supposed to pee on a stick and hold the phone at the same time?” You joked.

You heard a door shut on her end, “Put the phone down, pee on the stick and come back.”

You groaned. What if you really were pregnant? You were happy but scared at the same time. This wasn’t something you’ve ever had to deal with.

“Alright.” You said.

You placed the phone down on the table and pulled the test out of your purse. You went into the bathroom, ripped the box open, ignored the instructions and made sure that the bristles were in place. You frowned, this was almost as awkward as peeing in a cup.

You placed the phone down on the table and pulled the test out of your purse. You went into the bathroom, ripped the box open, ignored the instructions and made sure that the bristles were in place. You frowned, this was almost as awkward as peeing in a cup. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt weird about the whole thing. Lena was willingly waiting for you to pee on a stick. You set the test on the corner of the sink, finished your business and pulled up your pants. You pushed the cap over the bristled part of the test and then washed your hands. You grabbed the instructions and test as you went back to the living room. You glanced at the clock. It was only 10:30 in the morning. Donghyuck wouldn’t be home for another few hours.

You picked up the phone, “It’s done.”

“Yay!” Lena laughed. “Have you thought about how you’re going to tell Donghyuck?”

You shrugged, “No. I don’t even know if this is real yet. I could just be overreacting.”

“You wouldn’t have called me if you thought this was a false alarm.” She stated.

You groaned, “Ugh.”

Why was she always right? She laughed again. She distracted you with mindless prattle while you waited the three minutes for the test to finish. You left it sitting on the coffee table, upside down because you still didn’t know if you were prepared for the outcome.

“Three minutes.” Lena announced.

You took a deep breath and gingerly picked up the test. You flipped it over and creased your eyebrows in confusion.

“Uh – it has one solid line and one really faint one.” You told her.

You pulled out the instructions pamphlet and began scanning through. It mentioned that two solid lines mean pregnant but it made no mention of a solid first line and faint second one. Were all the tests this finicky?

“That’s exactly what it looked like when I was pregnant with Minah.” She advised.

You shook your head, “This doesn’t make any sense. The booklet distinctly says that you have to have two solid lines. Not one solid and one barely there.”

She chuckled at your denial, “Y/N you’re pregnant.”

“That’s not what the booklet says!” You fought back.

“You’re pregnant.” Lena said again.

You paused and then all the excitement of being pregnant caught up with you. Tears formed at your eyes.

“I’m pregnant.” You whispered. “I'm pregnant!” You screamed. “Oh my god. Oh my god! How am I going to tell Hyuck?"

“Do something cute, like put the test in a pan and put the pan in the oven.” Lena offered, “Symbolically tell him you have a ‘bun in the oven.’”

You burst into laughter, “Isn’t that sort of stuff reserved for people planning on these things? This wasn’t exactly on our list of to-dos.”

You both broke into giggles. This was absurd and exhilarating all at once. You never expected to ever be a parent. It wasn’t something you thought you had in you. Now that you were pregnant, and with Donghyuck, you’d never felt more ready. The two of you could do this.

You took a deep breath and then blew it out through tight lips, “He’s not going to be home until after 7. I can’t wait that long.”

“Mull it over. He loves you, remember that.” She gave me a minor pep talk, “Oh, and guys handle these things differently. Don’t forget that.”

You nodded, “Alright. Thanks Lena.”

“No problem. You have to call me and tell me how he reacts.” She demanded.

I laughed at her, “I will.”

“Alright girl, I’ve got to go. I’ve been paged five times now.” She spoke swiftly and then hung up.

You dropped your phone down onto the coffee table and turned the TV on. You had no idea how you were going to tell Donghyuck. This was definitely not something either of you had talked about.

(...)

He’d been home for at least an hour now. The two of you were just sitting on the couch, watching TV. You couldn’t concentrate on the show because there was so much going on in your mind. Your face was hot and a blush was covering your entire body. You had no idea why but you felt embarrassed. You hadn’t even said or done anything yet. The tension in your body was building and you were starting to freak out. What if he had a horrible reaction? You never did talk about this. It wasn’t in the plans. Shit! You needed to get out of your head. You couldn’t start making things up. He didn’t even know yet. You tucked your feet underneath you and cradled the throw cushion into your stomach. You felt safer, almost like you were hiding your secret.

“Baby…” You murmured.

He glanced over at you, “Yeah.”

“We need to talk.” You said, immediately regretting your choice of words.

Now he probably thought you were breaking up with him. How did other people do this? This was the hardest conversation you’d ever had to have in your life. He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to speak. You opened your mouth but stopped. You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was thudding in your chest and the adrenaline soared through your body.

"(Y/N)?" Donghyuck kept staring at you. "What is it?"

"Uhm..." you scratched the back of your neck. "I, I don't want to eat shrimp in our wedding."

He stared at you for a couple of seconds. "That is it?" You nodded, swallowing. "Baby, we can eat whatever we want in our wedding."

You hated yourself for lying to him. "I just... heard you say to Jeno you really love shrimp and I don't, so..."

"I don't really mind, love," he pecked you. "If you want to have tacos, then we'll have tacos."

You smiled. "Okay."

"Okay." He kissed you.

You couldn’t do it. You were too nervous.

(...)

You were all together in the cabin you rented, sitting around the coffee table filled with food and drinks.

“So, when's the wedding?” Jaemin asked, having a sip of his beer.

“Uh we still haven't set a date, but I hope it's soon,” Donghyuck replied and smiled.

“Hurry up before my baby bump starts showing!” Lena laughed. "And others things too." She glanced at you. You ignored her.

“Are you pregnant again?” Taeyong looked at her.

She nodded. "Yup, baby number two is coming next winter."

"Hey, congrats," Jaemin smiled. "I bet Hoseok is thrilled."

"He is, he wants twins," Lena rolled his eyes. "As if one wasn't enough."

Donghyuck giggled. "I'd love to have twins one day."

"You see, (Y/N)? Give him babies soon!" Lena smiled.

You rolled your eyes and Donghyuck put an arm around your shoulder. "We'll have kids as soon as we get married."

"You don't even hate a date yet," Jaemin mocked him.

You didn't know when Jaemin and Donghyuck became so close that they would bicker jokingly so often. And you found it funny, but that day you were nervous because you had to tell him you were pregnant. He deserved to know.

Taeyong tilted his head to the side, examining you. You looked different, your body seemed different. And the way you wouldn't look Donghyuck in the eye he could tell you were hiding something.

Then he knew. You were pregnant.

Later that night, you were doing the dishes when Taeyong showed up in the kitchen. He smiled at you as he poured  some water in a glass. He stood next to you, leaning against the counter. “How long are you?”

“Excuse me?” You looked at him.

He cocked his head cutely, smiling. “If I’m not wrong you’re pregnant, right?”

You sighed and nodded. “How did you know? Did Lena tell you? I’m gonna kill her.” You hissed.

Taeyong chuckled and shook his head. “I had a slight suspicion since the last time I saw you.”

You pressed your lips together. “6 weeks.”

“And… are we happy?” He rested his hand on yours.

“I am, I’m just nervous,” you let out an awe sigh. “I know he’s gonna be all happy, but still, it’s unexpected.”

“You’ll be fine.” Taeyong assured you. “Everything will be fine.”

“Promise?”

“When have I ever lied to you?” He cocked an eyebrow.

You giggled. “Never.”

“See?” Taeyong smiled. “Come here.” He pulled you close to him and hugged you. “I’ll always be by your side.”

(...)

“What are we going to do tomorrow?” Jaemin asked.

Donghyuck's eyes lit up, “There are several things we could do, how physical would we like to get?”

There was an extremely varied pool of answers. Jaemin and Donghyuck wanted it to be as extreme as they could get. You seemed anxious about what ‘physical’ would entail as physical usually also corresponded with danger.

Taeyong thought for a moment before recommending, “Why don’t we go down to the lake? It can be as low key or high key as people want, and there are some very pretty places nearby if people would not like to participate in the lake.”

Jaemin nodded, “Sounds fine to me.”

Lena whispered something to you and when they nodded Donghyuck's eyes lit up, “we're in as well.”

The next morning , you decided to make sandwiches for your trip later in the day while everyone cleaned up from breakfast, and then everyone left to go get dressed. Donghyuck put on their bathing suit underneath so he could easily change in and out of it, and grabbed their pair of sunglasses. He went out to the main area of the cabin to gather up the towels.

Taeyong arrived a few moments later, he had a sunhat on with round black sunglasses on. "Is everyone ready?"

Jaemin nodded. "We better go!"

The walk down to the lake was surprisingly calm, it was still morning and the birds were chirping, hidden in the trees, and the occasional butterfly would flutter across their path. The lake was stunning when you arrived. It was a large tranquil body of water which seemed to absorb the sun to show every possible shade of blue, and reflected it at just the right points so the ripples glinted and gleamed.

Donghyuck immediately tore off his shirt and sprinted for the dock as Jaemin and Taeyong followed him. Lena and you sat on the edge of the dock.

In the field there was laughter and joy, the three of them wove crowns and bracelets for each other.

"Why haven't you told him yet?" Lena queried.

You shrugged. "Becuase I'm dumb."

"Yeah, I know," she giggled. "You need to tell him before he realises it."

You sighed. "I'm gonna do it tonight."

She smiled. "Finally!"

"It's so cold." you said hugging yourself tighter.

Donghyuck grinned, scrunching his nose. "If you get in the water you'll get warm."

You rolled your eyes again. "You're not getting me into the lake."

Donghyuck pouted. "You sure, love?" He asked, batting his eyes.

You crossed your arms nodding your head. You didn't notice the way his arms snaked around your legs, having a slightly good hold on you. "I hoped you'd say that." Donghyuck had an evil smile on his face, causing you to look confused.

"I didn't say any- ahh!" Before you knew it, you were pulled into the lake.

When you broke to the surface Donghyuck was already waiting for you. You moved the hair from your face and glared at him. "Hyuck!" You yelled slamming your fists into the water. Donghyuck broke into a laughing fit. You glared at him, crossing your arms and turning away with a small 'Hmph!' Donghyuck was still laughing just a bit, before swimming up behind you. "Aw come on love, you can't be mad at me." He said wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. You weren't mad, but you wanted to tease him a bit. "Let go off of me."

"No," you felt him smile on your shoulder before he kissed it.

You giggled and rested your head on his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you." He kissed your cheek. "I love you more than anything, you know?"

"I know," you smiled, caressing his arms . "But I like when you say it."

"I love you," he turned you and kissed you. "I can't wait for you to have my babies."

"Hyuck..." You looked at him. "You need to know something."

"What is it?" He stroked your cheek.

You opened your mouth but Jaemin called you two interrupted. You shook your head. "Let's go before he goes crazy. I'll tell you later."

"Alright, love."

(...)

"Please repeat again why did we need your private jet to come all the way here, Taeyong?" Lena questioned him.

"It was an 8 hour ride. I was not going to drive," He shrugged.

Jaemin laughed. "I could've drove."

"You're not the best at driving," you teased and everyone laughed.

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that," Jaemin rolled his eyes.

You all were in a suv on your way to the hangar where Taeyong's private jet was. You were coming back to the city after spending a few days out of town.

You didn't tell Donghyuck that you were pregnant since you weren't alone and when you have time for yourselves, he fell asleep. So you decided to tell him as soon as you two were home. It would be better.

After you arrived at the hangar destination, you got off of the car and grabbed your belongings. All of you went to the airstrip where the jet was already waiting for you. Everyone started to board the plane when Donghyuck let go off your hand. You looked at him. "I think I left my wallet in the car. I'll be right back."

"I'm gonna wait for you here," you say nicely.

He nodded and walked back in the hangar where the black suv was. He found his wallet underneath the pilot's seat and took it. He started walking towards the plane again and smiled when he saw you on the staircase. God, he was so in love with you.

A deafening sound echoed in his ears.

He blinked.

Donghyuck could you see running towards him - almost in slow motion - you were mouthing something and staring at him with fear, pain and… shock in your eyes.

Why were you shocked?

The right side of his chest felt sticky, and cold but warm in the middle. Weirdly warm. But it was not warm, it was hot and it hurt. Not like a punch. It was more like a pinch, that was blossoming into a cramp - a horrible, numbing cramp.

He was feeling light-headed and the cramp in his chest was getting worse. You were getting closer, but the distance between you two was considerable.

Another bang reached his ears a second later, it was loud, deafening, it made his ears ring. He stepped, no, stumbled to the side. Turning his head to see you, the look of acknowledgement and horror on your face.

He felt his blood on his hands, the heat and pain building up in his chest, the warmth of the sun seeping into his back. His knees gave way and he started falling backwards as his hand stretched out towards you.

His head hit the pavement with a startling thud and it felt strangely numb, he could hear you yelling for an ambulance. He blinked, closed his eyes for a second and suddenly you were there above him. You were cradling his face, saying something, tapping his face too hard.

"Hyuck!"

"-pen your eyes!"

"Come on Hyuck Please! Don't do this!"

"Babe, love, Donghyuck! You're okay, you're alright, you're gonna be fine. Please stay with me."

His back arched and he tried to curl onto his side and make the pain go away. His blood was still pouring out of him like a grotesque tap that couldn't be turned off.

"I-I love s-so m-uch. Y-you're t-the b-est t-thing t-that happened t-to m-me" He rambled.

"Don't do that. Don't say goodbye," you spoke, your voice cracking as a few stray tears fell from your eyes.

The blood that was coating his throat started clogging it instead and he couldn't breathe.

"You are going to be fin-" he choked

"It won't" You cut him off. "Hyuck, please. I'm pregnant, we're gonna have a kid. You're gonna be a dad. The best."

He tried to smile and looked at you weakly. "Take c-care o-of t-them, okay? I-I l-love yo-"

He was cut off by the blood in his throat that he coughed out onto his chin. The pain was spreading everywhere and numbing his brain.

And he took his last breath. He was smiling up at you.

“No. No! I’m not losing you! Donghyuck! I just got you! I'm not losing you! I’m not losing you… I’m not losing you.” You cried as you frantically shook him trying to bring him back to life but to no avail.

He was gone.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to marry Donghyuck and raise your kid together. And two stray bullets weren't supposed to have struck in your fiancé's chest.

You weren't supposed to be trembling in front of the small white tombstone etched with the name Lee Donghyuck, but it was happening anyway.

You just wanted him to hold you; to tell you that everything happens for a reason, as he always did. You imagined him wrapping his arms around your waist like he always had, the way you now held yourself, alone.

Furiously wiping the tears from under your eyes,you began to make your way to your real destination from the graveyard. As you opened the door to the small doctor’s office, she gave you a soft sympathetic smile.

“Come on in, let’s see how your little bean is holding up.”

You nodded, sitting on the sturdy table for examinations in the back of the small office. You didn’t really notice the colors on the walls anymore, your eyes skipping over the medical tools meticulously lined up in the doctor’s preference of order.

You were four months along.

“Everything seems to be going well with the baby. But Y/N, you know that you need to eat more. It isn’t safe.”

Safe. That word didn’t seem real to you anymore.

“Are you hearing me? Please, I don’t like you living alone.”

You nodded. "I'll try."

(...)

Time went on. You were slowly running out of tears to cry around the eight month of your pregnancy. You still stopped by the graveyard to say hello to Donghyuck.

When she got back to your house, you found Taeyong parking outside. He had always been kind to you, respecting your space and distance.

“Hey you,” he greeted you smiling.

"Hi," you greeted back.

"I brought you some lunch."

You smiled politely. "Let 's go inside. I'm cold."

You got inside your house and went to the kitchen. Taeyong placed the food containers on the table. "How's the baby?"

"They're fine," you smirked. "Although I get heartburns very easily."

He nodded. "I'm glad you're doing better."

You sighed. "I'm... trying."

"And you know I'm here to help."

"I know."

You suddenly let out a low groan. He turned to you abruptly. “Are you okay, is the baby alright?” Taeyong, with a panicked look on his face.

“Umm, I think...I think I’m having contractions.”

It took a minute for this to process with him. "Okay, okay.. Okay, I'm gonna take you to the hospital? Okay?"

You nodded. "Is too soon, oh My God."

(...)

Taeyong ran his hand through his hair for what seemed like the millionth time as he paced in the waiting room.

He glanced down the hall where he knew your room was. He got called by a nurse. He went to your room and saw you connected to a lot of medical stuff and his heart ached.

You were in pain and when you saw him, you reached for his hand. Taeyong, grabbing your hand not even caring about your tight grip as he kissed your head, sweat be damned.

“(Y/N) ...it’s almost time for you to push, waiting any longer will mean an even greater risk for your baby.”

You nodded but let out a shuddering breath.

As nurses started coming into the room, he pressed another kiss to your head.

“You can do this.” He whispered.

Minutes later, you began to push.

He looked back at the baby girl. She was beautiful. And so small.

Taeyong looked up.

“She’s a fighter, just like his dad..”

Tears filled your eyes again.

Taeyong knew he wouldn't go anywhere, not since he had you all from himself and had gotten rid of Donghyuck.

He smiled, holding the baby. He was a dad.

Alternate ending is finally here !!

[perlukafarinn]

Destiel 6 + 43 :)

friends to lovers + old married couple (but “old married couple” in this case doesn’t mean literally)

They’re on their way to Sam’s apartment to pick him for dinner, Dean and Cas in the front seat, Charlie and her new girlfriend Gilda in the back. They’re already running a little late and Cas keeps trying to give Dean directions, as if he doesn’t know the way to Sam’s like the back of his hand.

“Not since construction started downtown,” Cas argues. “Most of 23rd street is closed, you would be better off taking a right by the University.”

Dean scoffs. “I know what I’m doing, Cas. You don’t even own a car!”

“No, but I took this route on my bike a couple of days ago.”

“Oh, well, since you biked-”

“Are they always like this?” Gilda asks from the back, quiet but not enough so that Dean can’t hear it.

Charlie laughs. “Not always but they bicker like an old married couple.”

Dean’s left eye twitches and he clams his mouth shut, cutting himself off mid-argument. Charlie has called them that before but not in a while and it didn’t used to sting like that. He’d rather not dwell on why.

He takes his normal route despite Cas’ protests and has to turn around halfway to Sam’s when they run into construction.  

Cas, to his credit, doesn’t say ‘I told you so’.

*

Cas forgot his lunch at home. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to worry Dean but he’s been really busy at work lately, working later and later hours, and Dean wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot to eat altogether.

Since he’s self-employed, Dean’s got no problem taking a long break today to swing by Cas’ office with his lunch. As a joke, mostly on himself, he stuffs it in a brown paper bag and scribbles Cas’ name on it along with a crudely-drawn heart.

Cas’ secretary, Alfie, gives Dean a smile when he approaches his desk holding up the bag. Dean considers just barging into Cas’ office (he’s done it enough times) but Alfie holds up his hand like he knows exactly what he’s thinking and picks up his phone.

“Mr. Novak?” he says brightly. “So sorry to interrupt, but your husband is here with your lunch.”

Dean’s eyes widen. He can feel the heat rising to his cheeks, especially when Alfie just nods at Cas’ response and waves Dean inside - Cas clearly didn’t bother correcting him.

Cas is shuffling through some papers when Dean enters his office, phone nestled in the crook of his neck, but he quickly hangs up and puts them aside with a grateful smile when he sees Dean.

“I knew I’d forgotten something,” he says, accepting the bag from Dean’s hand and snorting when he sees the inscription on it. “Thank you, dear.”

It’s so obviously meant to be a joke, one at Alfie’s expense for making such a silly assumption, and still Dean can’t keep his heart from skipping a beat.

He plasters on a fake smile. “Hey, what kinda husband would I be if I let you go hungry?”

“Are you stopping for lunch?” Cas asks.

Dean wasn’t planning on it but he nods anyway, pulling up a chair to sit at Cas’ desk. 

*

Dean has almost put the whole lunch-office-husband thing out of his mind a week later, when Sam calls and tells him that his apartment building is being fumigated and he needs someplace to stay.

It’s a tight squeeze but of course Dean says to stay at his; Sam’s landlord is footing the bill for motel rooms but only the cheapest sort and they spent enough of their childhoods bouncing between those. Dean’s not gonna let Sam be homeless again, not even for a day.

The plan is for Sam and Dean to take turns sleeping on the pull out couch. Sam offers to take the first night and he’s still out cold when Dean gets up to make breakfast the next morning.

The coffee is ready and the bacon is sizzling on the pan by the time Cas gets out of his room. He tiptoes past Sam, still fast asleep on the couch, and sits down at the kitchen counter.

“Should we wake him for breakfast?” he asks quietly.

Dean shakes his head. “He should wake up soon anyway, I’ll reheat this if I have to.”

Cas nods. A couple minutes later everything is cooked and Dean sits down next to him with a plate for each. They eat in silence, Sam not even stirring, and Dean would be worried about the kid if he didn’t know from experience just what a heavy sleeper he can be.

His attention is snatched away from Sam when Cas reaches for his plate, snatching up one of his bacon slices. Dean grabs him by the wrist but Cas is undeterred, bending his head down to take a bite of his stolen bacon.

“Dude, get some of your own.”

“I had some,” Cas says, licking his lips and Dean is suddenly all too aware of how warm Cas’ wrist feels underneath his fingers. “I finished it and you gave yourself extra slices.”

“Did not,” Dean lies. 

Then, impulsively, before Cas can take another bite, he ducks his head and snatches the rest of the bacon from his grip. His lips graze Cas’ skin as he does so and he hears Cas let out a strangled sound.

He straightens, flushing as he sees Cas staring at him with wide eyes.

Sam clears his throat.

“Sam!” Dean says, just a little too loud, dropping Cas’ hand like a hot potato. “You’re awake!”

Sam peers at him from the couch, and Dean’s not sure if he’s suspicious or just tired. His hair is flat on one side from resting on the pillow and sticking up on the other, and any other time Dean would be laughing or getting a camera.

“I’m going to go shower,” Cas says quietly, slipping from his seat before Dean can respond. Both Winchesters watch him leave, the room falling silent as he closes the bathroom door behind him.

Sam looks back at Dean. “Are you sure you’re not married?”

Dean flips him off.

*

Those fours years that Dean has on Sam must make a hell of a difference, because Dean cannot for the life of him understand how Sam could sleep on that torture device they call a couch. 

The mattress is thin, way too soft, and lumpy in all the worst places. What’s worse is the noise it makes as Dean tosses around trying to fall asleep, the creaking springs waking him up every time he manages to drift off.

At some point in the night - Dean’s not sure when, though it’s well after midnight - Cas pokes his head out of his room.

“Dean?”

Dean licks his lips. “Yeah?”

“Get in here.”

Dean should protest, if only for the sake of his sanity. But it’s late and he’s exhausted and his back already aches from this hell-spawn of a mattress, so he gets up and follows Cas back into his room.

Cas doesn’t say another word, just crawls back in bed, leaving a decent bit of space beside him. Dean stands there staring for a moment, silently cursing whatever deity might be listening, then gets in after him.

He settles at the very edge of the mattress, leaving as much space between them as possible. His body is tense and sleep feels far off but he still closes his eyes, focusing on keeping his breaths even and not noticing the warmth radiating from Cas’ body.

Despite his anxiety, Dean must still manage to drift off at some point because he’s suddenly blinking his eyes open and it’s morning.

Cas is facing him now, lying just a couple of inches away, and not only are their legs tangled together underneath the comforter but Cas’ hand is resting on Dean’s waist. 

Dean swallows, but before he can wonder how to de-tangle himself from Cas without waking him up, Cas draws in a sharp breath through his nose. Dean is unable to move as Cas opens his eyes, peering around in slight confusion before settling on Dean’s face.

And he smiles. Dean’s heart jumps at that smile, at the warmth of it, and he finds himself returning it despite himself. Why isn’t every morning like this?

“What are you thinking?” Cas asks, his voice a low rumble.

“That every morning should be like this,” Dean answers honestly.

He only realizes what he’s said when Cas’ eyes widen, all traces of sleep suddenly gone from them. Jesus Christ, what the hell was he thinking? There is no un-romantic way Cas could interpret that! He could have reached down and grabbed Cas’ dick and it would have been a less obvious come-on.

“I didn’t-” Dean stutters. “I meant-” 

Cas gives him a pointed look, effectively silencing him. “I know what you meant.”

Then he’s leaning in, pausing just long enough for Dean to realize what’s going on before closing the distance between them, kissing Dean with such tenderness that it aches. Dean’s still barely with the program but he kisses Cas back, crowding in closer and cupping Cas’ cheek with his hand not caught in the scant space between them.

Cas pulls away and Dean’s not proud of the noise he makes then but he opens his eyes again and Cas is looking at him with such heat that it’s hard to care about anything else.

“How long, Dean?” 

“Years,” Dean admits, and it’s just one embarrassing confession after another this morning isn’t it? “Fuck, years.”

“It’s been years for me too,” Cas says. “I can’t believe - all this time we could’ve-”

Dean places a finger against his lips, cutting him off. “Then lets not waste any more.”

Cas laughs, breathlessly agreeing, and Dean leans in to kiss him again, putting an end to their conversation for now. 

They’ve got some catching up to do.

*

They’re married less than four months later. 

At this point, it’s really nothing more than a formality. 

[bittywitches]

I’m obsessed with the college roommates concept— maybe you’re feelings lonely and kinda sad abt ur love life one night and Grayson offers to take you on a date just for fun as friends but then ~feelings~ happen ☺️

Umm do you mean that one episode in season 8 of friends where Joey takes out pregnant Rachel and gets his crush on her??? Bc yes :))

It’s probably just been one of those weeks, you know? An assload of assignments, tests and exams every other day, most of which you’d completely bombed and were feeling shitty about. You hadn’t had more than 5 hours of sleep a day in like a month, you’d been living off of microwavables and instant noodles, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a sip of water since all your energy has been from coffee. And the kids in all your group projects this semester? Idiots. Selfish pricks. Every single one of them.

So it was needless to say that you were just in one of those moods. It was a Friday night, so things had slowed down enough, finally, but it also finally gave you some time to let yourself think, and god it was not great when you had to think.

It had started as just one of those basic thoughts; “What am doing? Where is this going?” which lead to “Why am I even in college in the first place?” Ending with “Oh my god I’m wasting my life and I’m gonna be alone forever”.

By the time Grayson had made it home that night, you were huddled up in the living room sofa under a blanket, your laptop open in your lap and snacks all over the table a couch while “Isn’t she lovely” by Stevie Wonder played on your phone as you tried your best not to burst into tears at the thought of never finding a boyfriend.

“Whoa, I don’t remember getting my invite to this slumber party.” He laughed, kicking his shoes off and throwing his bag onto the single sofa next to yours.

You slumped your shoulders. “It’s not a slumber party, it’s a pity party.”

“Oh?” He sat himself down on the sofa. “Who for?”

“Me, who else?” You wallowed, stuffing some more popcorn into your mouth.

“Why, did you get marks back?” He asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, a bit concerned at the volume of popcorn you were putting into your mouth with each bite.

“No, but what’s the point? I already know I’m doing bad.” You slumped backwards into the couch, just wishing you could be swallowed by the pillows and cushions.

“Hey,” He placed a hand on your knee, looking at you seriously now. He knew you. Your general melt downs he was used to, but this was different. He could tell something was wrong. “You okay?”

You sighed, grabbing your phone off the counter and pausing the song so you could think straight. “You don’t wanna hear about it.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

You sighed, slipping your legs out from under you and dangling them off the couch. “Okay, um..” Grayson’s hand had fallen away, and you suddenly felt like rubbing the spot on your leg where it had been. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been so busy lately, and it’s just gotten me thinking about my life in general. And how I haven’t gone out on a date in like…” You had to stop and think, and started laughing after a few seconds. “In so long I can’t even remember. Wow, god.” You sunk back into the couch. “I miss dating.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Yea?”

“Yeah, you know,” You waved your hands around vaguely. “The whole excitement of it. Getting to dress up and look all nice. Feeling all pretty.” He tilted his head at you, and you shook your head and laughed. “But you know, not that I need the reminder. I’m obviously hot as fuck.” You gestured to yourself, highlighting your nest of hair and your stained sweatshirt. You waited for him to laugh, but he just continued to look at you with that weirdly deep expression.

“What?”

“How about I take you on a date?”

You blinked at him, then started to chuckle, confused. “Huh?”

“You know, as friends. But I’ll give you like, the whole experience.”

You almost spit at that. “The ‘whole experience’?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. We’ll get all dressed up, go out to a nice place for dinner or something.”

You sat up now, your eyes narrowed at him. “Why?”

“Why not? It’s a friday. If you have stuff to do you can always do it later.”

“You know where that mindset gets me, Dolan.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He smiled. “Plus, you deserve a fun night.”

You scoffed. “Yea, but not with a boyfriend or anything. With my roommate.”

“You think you could do better?”

“Incredibly.”

“God just shut up and go change.”

You laughed. “I— You know what? What the heck.” You got up, and he did with you. “Ah, okay!” You gave him a quick squeeze before running to your room, and his eyes followed after you, a gentle smile on his lips.

…

He’d done the whole shebang. He got dressed in a nice dress shirt and clean black jeans, something you’d actually never seen him wear before. He’d somehow gotten you a bouquet of flowers, which, you weren’t even sure where or how he’d gotten them, because you couldn’t have taken more than twenty minutes to get ready. Nonetheless, he truly was the gentleman you had never expected. This was Grayson, the guy you watched old disney movies with and cried with during finals. He was the one you’d eat whole pints of ice cream with and play The Last of Us with and helped you master. He certainly wasn’t the one who was supposed to be complimenting you on your dress and taking you out to nice dinners. But here he was, doing just that.

He’d parked his car and was now escorting you inside this tiny but upscale italian restaurant, simple but elegant. As you entered through the glass door, the dazzling chandelier above the waiting area along with the gorgeous red sconces blew you away.

“Grayson how did you get a place like this on such short notice?” You whispered to him, gripping his arm, a bit intimidated by all the fancy folk waiting inside.

“I know some people.” He responded, a small smile on his lips.

You slapped his arm. “As if, you don’t even know the name of the Starbucks barista on campus.”

He rolled his eyes. “Can’t you let me be cool?” You stared at him waiting for the response, and he sighed. “This place is fairly new. Not that many people know about it yet, so it’s pretty easy to get a reservation.”

“How’d you know about it then?”

“Found it when I was looking for a place to take Sarah to.”

“Oh my god that girl from your Kinesiology class?” You looked at him with wide eyes and a grin on your face. “No way! I didn’t think you’d grow the balls to ask her out.”

“Hey,” He said, but you laughed. “Well, I haven’t exactly asked her yet. I was just checking it out.”

“Well either way, she’s going to love this place, it’s so extravagant.” You made it to the front and Grayson informed the woman standing there of his reservation. She escorted you both inside and brought you to a table next to one of the windows. She’d dropped off two glasses of water and menus for you both to look at in the meantime. You peaked at the one in front of you, and your eyes grew again.

“Gray, did you happen to look at the prices before coming here?”

“Don’t worry, I’m buying.” He flipped through his casually, as if he wasn’t exasperated at the large numbers printed on the cards.

“Are you serious? What are you, made of money?”

“Hey, I promised you a fun night, right? I can make a few sacrifices.”

A young man came up to your table, and you both gave him your order. You ended up choosing the cheapest thing on the menu, because a) you didn’t want to be too much of a burden on Grayson, but also b) you barely knew what any of it was anyways. He left, you both chatted for a bit, and he returned with your meals, both of them being some sort of pasta that you were a bit embarrassed about not knowing the differences between.

Grayson didn’t really know that much either, to be quite honest, but for some reason he felt the need to impress you with this place. And he was pretty giddy about the fact that it was working.

But throughout this, you had kept staring at him, frankly a bit shocked at the whole situation you both were in. You had to shake your head to get your thoughts straight, but ended up giggling. “So, you always this sweet with the girls you take out on dates?”

He bit his cheek, but decided to play along, lowering his fork and leaning in towards you to hear you over the chatter in the restaurant. “Why, you interested?”

“No, just curious what it is that Grayson Dolan pulls to get a girl.” You crossed your arms on the table, on elbow propped up with your chin resting on your hand. “Tell me, you have any moves?”

He laughed. “What, that I just use with every girl?”

“Don’t act so modest. There’s gotta be something. What gets them drooling?” You asked a playful smile on your lips.

He rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his food. “Okay fine, um.” He cleared his throat. “It usually starts out the same, I ask them about themself. Where they’re from, what they do— like, okay. What do you like to do in your spare time?”

You snorted. “Are we doing this? Are we playing this out?”

“Yesss, go with it.”

You laughed. “Okay, uh well. I like to paint sometimes.”

“Yea? What kind of stuff?”

“Well I used to do more traditional stuff, my parents were really into those pretty realism paintings. I’d do flowers and fruits and whatever, but every since, I guess junior year of high school, I’ve been doing more pop art pieces? And a lot more self-indulgent stuff. And I…” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling, but also realizing that Grayson had his soft eyes fixed on yours.

“What?”

His eyes widened a little, as if you’d shook him out of a daze, and he chuckled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just, uh... “ He smiled. “Your eyes are really pretty.”

Your face flushed a little bit, and you looked away from him, taking a sip of water to use it as your excuse. “Ah, thank you.”

He shook his head. “Anyways, so do you still do pop art now? Or has it changed since you’ve started college?”

You blinked at him, then covered your mouth as you opened it in slight shock. “Wow, that was really good.”

He laughed. “Yea?”

“The eye thing was good on it’s own but to know you were actually listening to me? I’m impressed.” You nodded in approval.

He tilted his head, chuckling. “Thank you, thank you.” He took another bite of food before continuing. “So what about you? You have any moves?”

You snorted again. “Gray, I barely go out on enough dates in the first place, much less enough to establish any moves.”

“Why are you always so modest? You can tell me you know.”

You laughed. “Yeah duh I know, but I’m genuinely serious this time. I don’t get asked out all that often.” You shrugged. “It’s why I get excited when I do get to go on dates. It’s fun.”

Grayson was the one who couldn’t help but stare now. He blinked at you, unable to really comprehend what you were saying to him. How could people not want to ask you out? You were incredible. Looking at you now, your hair up in a dainty bun, a few curls falling down the sides of your face; your pretty off the shoulder dress that matched your deep magenta-maroon lipstick. And he wasn’t lying about your eyes, they really were so pretty. They sparkled, even more so when you were laughing. Which was usually accompanied by your scrunched up nose, making you look like a cute little bunny. He smiled at the thought, as he loved seeing that expression on your face.

“Huh.” he said out loud then, not realizing when it was he had starting noticing your small actions like that so much.

“What?” You asked, looking up at him, and suddenly, seeing those same eyes he always saw staring at him, he felt almost light headed. His face felt warm, seeing you look at him like that. He was almost afraid that you could see what he was thinking. But why would that be a problem unless…

Grayson slowly widened his eyes. Did he seriously have feelings for Y/N?

“Nothing, sorry.” He said with a smile, looking back down at his food. Sure, he’d always thought you were amazing. You were gorgeous, sure, and you made him laugh. And yea he loved hanging out with you, watching movies and playing video games, and he adored being your roommate, having late night conversations and spending all your free time together…

He wanted to mentally smack himself in the face. Shit, he had feelings for you.

This was going to be a long night.

[litwitlady]

Date Nights (2/5)

Read on AO3.

‘The library?’ The brick building’s doors slide open, the scent of musty old books assaulting them immediately. Michael smirks at Alex and crosses the threshold, knowing Alex will follow. ‘We could have gone to Maria’s Mexican farmer’s market to get chilaquiles.’

Michael winks back at him. ‘I’ll make you chilaquiles, baby. But first, the library.’

Alex searches through his memories trying to remember the last time he’d set foot in Roswell’s tiny public library. Not a single memory comes to mind. ‘How is this a replacement for date night? Are you going to read something dirty to me? Does this library actually own anything dirty you could read to me?’

Ignoring him, Michael settles at a computer next to the microfiche reader. Alex frowns down at him, an image of Forrest flashing through his mind. ‘Are you researching something?’ He grabs a chair and slides it over, sitting down with a sigh. ‘I can help. At home with my super computer. And your chilaquiles. And my bed close enough to be distracting.’

Still no response from Michael so Alex lets his eyes wander over the stacks and stacks of endless books. A strange guilt settles over him when he thinks about how little he reads these days despite how much he used to love cracking the spine of a new novel. ‘Do you think I should get a library card? I’ve never had one because I like to destroy the books I read. But maybe a library card would get me back into the habit.’

Michael smashes the keyboard in front of him proudly, sliding the monitor towards Alex and pointing to the screen. ‘My items are ready to be checked out.’ The grin that spreads across his face scares Alex because there’s an obvious taunt curled in the corners of his lips. ‘Let’s go to the front desk. You can get a library card and I can pick up my stuff.’

The librarian sets a large stack of books in front of Michael and gives Alex a form to fill out, asking for his driver’s license. He darts his eyes over to Michael’s stack and notices the book on top is about astrophysics. Nothing odd about that so he returns his gaze to the task in front of him.

Once they’re done, Michael pulls him back into the belly of the library. ‘I need to use their copy machine. It’s the cheapest in town seeing as to how it’s free.’

‘Okay, maybe I’ll go search for a book to read.’ He holds up his new library card grinning. ‘I feel like I’m in kindergarten again, but like, in a good way.’

Michael returns his smile and pulls out his phone to take a picture. ‘You’re cute. But you have to come with me first. There’s something I want to show you.’

Alex follows him back to a small room stuffed with the largest copy machine he’s ever seen in his life. ‘Wow. Where did Roswell get this kind of money?’

‘Education grant. Isobel was on the Chaves County Library Board. Pretty sure she wanted this copier for her own nefarious purposes. But maybe that’s just me being a very uncharitable brother.’ He lifts the lid of the copier and flattens one of his books across the surface.

Hopping up onto the small table next to the copier, Alex plays a game on his phone while Michael does whatever it is he’s doing. A comfortable silence settles around them until Michael slides onto the table next to him and shoves a warm sheet of paper in front of his phone.

Alex’s eyes grow wide once the newly copied image on the white, glossy photo paper comes into focus enough for him to recognize the picture of himself. A picture of himself circa the mid-nineties, hair gelled flat and a clip-on tie half-hanging off his collar. ‘What the actual fuck, Michael? Where did you get this?’

Michael grins like he just won the lottery. ‘From this.’ He drops the Roswell Elementary yearbook onto Alex’s lap and nudges him with his shoulder. ‘And there’s lots more where that came from.’ He hands over several more yearbooks, from first grade through eighth. ‘I’m already well-versed in the high school photos, obviously.’

‘But why though?’ He absentmindedly flips through the cheaply published pages, cringing every time a photo of himself flashes by. ‘Some things deserve to be nothing more than a memory. A very, very distant memory.’

‘The best part is the gap between your teeth. It’s adorable and you should have kept it.’ Alex glares at him and sets the yearbooks aside, eyebrows arched in an open question. Michael leans in and kisses the corner of his furiously bent brow. ‘I wanted us to have this moment.’

‘What moment? This moment of extreme embarrassment for baby Alex?’ He holds the photo of himself up, distress creasing his face.

Michael’s grin only grows wider, all his teeth now fully on display. ‘Yes. In the movies Isobel likes to watch, couples always get this moment where they meet each other’s parents and are forced through dozens of photo albums filled with the most embarrassing pictures from their childhoods.’ His grin falters and his voice lowers. ‘Me and you aren’t going to get that moment.’ He locks eyes with Alex and lets the truth in his words hang heavy between them. ‘Not like in the movies, anyway. But I can give us this.’ He raises his hips off the table and pulls something from his back pocket, handing it to Alex.

‘Oh my god.’ It’s another school picture but this time of Michael, curls everywhere and eyes full of fear. ‘How old were you here?’

‘Six. Only a few months after we were found. I didn’t even really speak yet. It took me awhile. Longer than Max or Iz who, according to their own stories, were chatterboxes by the time they started school.’ He takes the two photos from Alex and holds them side-by-side. ‘I thought maybe we could frame them. Create a new history for ourselves. One where we get to be two little boys with so much love waiting for them in the future.’ His voice breaks and Alex wraps his arms around him, hugging him tighter than ever before.

A knock at the door pulls them apart. A woman in pink glasses and a black cardigan wags her finger at them accusingly. Michael gives her a thumbs up. ‘That’s Ms. Doris. Don’t worry. She loves me.’

Alex settles back against the wall and looks at Michael, taking in every inch of his face from his chapped lips to the one rebellious curl refusing to obey. He thinks of a million different things he could say in this moment, but only one of them feels right. ‘I love you so much. I should have said that every day since the first day.’

Tears burn at his eyes and Michael reaches up to wipe them away. ‘I love you too. And we both should have said it every day since the first day.’ He kisses Alex soft and slow, daring Ms. Doris to look back through the window. ‘Now let’s get you a book and go home. I’ll make you chilaquiles while you learn how to read again.’

‘Asshole.’ There’s no animosity in his voice. Only love.

Back in the stacks, Alex decides to blindly choose a mystery novel from the shelves. He glances over at Michael flipping through his book on astrophysics. ‘That wasn’t the first time Miss Doris caught you wrapped around someone in this library, was it?’

Michael smiles down at a colorful chart of the stars. ‘Might have happened off and on for the past fifteen years. I’ve always cleaned up good at the library.’

Alex practically throws himself in Michael’s arms, kissing him squarely on the mouth as they collapse against the creaky metal shelves. ‘You’re such a shit.’

For a minute, they get lost in each other. Forgetting where they are entirely. Happy for the whole world to see them pressed together if it means this is what their life gets to look like from now until forever. But true to her reputation, Ms. Doris soon finds them and shoos them from the stacks, personally escorting them to the check-out desk with a severe frown Alex suspects is permanently etched into the lines of her face. But as he hands his book to the librarian behind the counter, Alex doesn’t miss the barely there smile she gives Michael as she squeezes his elbow and disappears, returning to her patrol.

Michael turns back to him, hand outstretched. ‘Ready?’

‘Ready.’ Alex nods and threads their fingers together. ‘On the way home, let’s stop by the thrift store on Main. They always have a good selection of frames.’

‘Okay, but nothing with aliens. Or the words Live, Laugh, Love.’ Alex snorts as the doors close behind them.

[xbunnybunz]

Daybreak (3/?) [Wolf Keum x Reader x Alex Go)

Summary: The day brings to you Alex Go, and in the night, Wolf Keum. Your past is inescapable. They build you up and tear you back down, but this is what you need to survive.

Genre: Romance, Angst, Drama

-----

When darkness creeps into the sky, you can see the shadows of a dwindling day inching into the room.

You sit hunched at your desk, a pen in hand and a notebook open before you.

Typed notes with yesterday’s date sit neatly in a pile, courtesy of your teachers. You had finished all the assignments that were given today, so the rest of the evening was yours-- and yet, you couldn’t seem to make anything of it, like always.

A laptop lay haphazardly on the bed as if thrown there. Papers and sheets littered the floor, a mixture of both typed notes and haphazard writing progressing into black and white scrawl.

You tightened your hold on the pen until your knuckles were paler than the paper. The other hand tapped impatiently on the table, waiting for something while staving off something else.

A mess, and you couldn’t fix it. You couldn’t get the wheel turning and you’ve been fighting it all night, but you have to think back on it again.

Purple hair, hazel eyes, red blazer.

It was like a curse. When you swallow, it feels like you’re choking.

“Ah, crap. Seriously?” You chuckle lowly, but its stale and drops like deadweight in the air.

A hand threads into your hair and you pull at it a bit, as if that’d help relocate lingering thoughts find a way back into confinement, as if it’d pull things out of your head that mattered.

You drop the pen and fold your arms up, dropping your head to rest on the desk. You peer at the phone beside your head, and tap the screen.

It lights up your dim room, and in the split second it takes your eyes to adjust to the brightness, there’s a glimmer of hope. But there’s nothing on the screen. No texts, no reminders, alarms, or missed calls. Vastly empty, making room for vast longing.

The sunset was gone now, reduced to a few straying rays of light. You flip over the phone and turn to the window. You wonder how you’d seem to someone looking in. Would you seem lonely? Could they tell you hadn’t felt whole since then?

Thoughts running in a circle, you can almost hear it again.

The beeping of a heart monitor. The clicking of shoes on white tile. Feigned hope and lies draped in white coats, hushed whispers, as if it didn’t matter that you knew the truth too.

Their words to you were no more than empty promises, false reassurances. They swam lazily, leisurely in your mind, giving you hope then snatching it away. The words live in your heart, reside there. Won’t let you forget.

His face plays in your mind, and you morbidly wonder what expression he made before the impact. Was he scared? Did he see it coming?

Eyes squeeze shut when you can feel the tears collecting again, pooling and forcing their way out in the sneaky way tears do.

Your hand clenches and unclenches, and you raise it and drop it again on the table, weakly, like the world’s shittiest attempt to muster anger.

“Why him?” You wonder, and hate the way your voice sounds fragile. “Why did it have to be him?”

The scent hits you again. Burning tire, sporadic blinking of a traffic sign, lights shooting through the night too much too late for you to do something. Anything.

“Haha, shit.”

The room is still. Nothing moves. An occasional car passes a ways from you, and the distant whirr of wheels on asphalt echoes through the nighttime air. It’s accompanied by a streak of headlights approaching, then fading into darkness.

It stays like this for a very long time, and you remain glued to the spot. The night is always stagnant. You always itch for something to distract you.

Your phone vibrates on the table. You tell yourself you won’t bother to check, but you do anyways. It’s just a reminder that your bill is due soon, but you barely have enough energy to be disappointed.

You eventually rise again, but the way your spine curves into your body, shoulders pulled close…

You see yourself in the mirror when you drag yourself to the bathroom and turn away in distaste. It’s no wonder Wolf hadn’t wanted to speak to you, it was almost like staring at a husk of a person. Disturbing and pathetic.

You knew you should probably stay away, or find some other way to feel better, but it was hard. Always was. And it was far easier to fall back into old habits, far more comfortable to keep making the same mistakes.

So you do.

You pull on the same heels, the same dress. Put on the same makeup, the same brand of lipstick.

The same routes, turns, and the same tinkering bell chime later, you are back in the same place you were a few days ago. It's just a dark shroud, heavy and suffocating, to hide in-- but you are back.

Comfortable, routine normalcy.

You slip into a stool by the bar. You liked this one, because you know the bartender thinks you’re cute and won’t card if you bat your eyelashes.

It was by chance you saw him a month ago, Wolf Keum, and you considered it the best stroke of luck in your life.

The luck seemed to stop short when you had one drink too many and ruined any chances of speaking to him. You supposed you deserved it, but it still stung more than you’d like.

You get whatever the fuck is the cheapest to start, but the bartender slides you a cosmopolitan anyways. You don’t complain because you know he probably won’t charge extra.

An hour passes but the hum of patrons never ceases. You love it here, you think. No one ever notices you, alone at the bar. There are too many stragglers to ever just pick one out.

Just like last time, there’s the clicking of utensils, the low murmur of conversation. It all fades to white noise in the background, and you’re relieved that your mind is slowing. Not completely, but almost pacified. Almost is always good enough.

Just when you think you’re smooth sailing, someone loudly pulls out a chair beside you. The grating sound of an old lopsided barstool dragging along unpolished tile is unpleasant, and the sharp noise reawakens sobriety.

You flex your wrists and send them a sour look, only to be taken aback when a familiar face takes a seat.

He doesn’t look at you but you know he’s just being sly.

You prop an elbow up onto the table and dip behind it, drink souring on your tongue, mirroring on your expression. What does he want, and what happened to his face? As if the mere glance you had taken hadn’t told you enough, you could see his hands on the counter out of the corner of your eye. Bandaged, lopsided gauze, and bruising all along the knuckles.

The bartender cards Wolf and he’s stiff about it. You don’t know if he’s irked you have a guest, or intimidated by his aura. You’re almost disappointed when Wolf pulls an ID out of his pocket. Of course he would have a fake.

He receives his drink promptly. But even when the bartender serves the other patrons, Wolf still doesn’t address you.

You wonder if he’s messing with you and give a small sigh. Your fingers find a lock of hair and twirl it absentmindedly, watching your face in the drink ripple, then vanish when you take a sip.

You squeeze your eyes shut and open your throat. It burns on the way down, when it settles in your stomach, and even when you stop drinking. You don’t really feel like staying any longer, but pride keeps you anchored to the stool.

And why should you leave? You were here first. You couldn’t be intimidated by petty tricks like this, not when you’ve seen worse from middle schoolers.

You turn your head away from him and look out the window. Wonder if it’s obvious you’re ignoring him. You can see his larger frame hunched over behind you, silhouetting yours easily. See him pick up his glass with his fingertips, downing the entire thing in one go. He throws back his head when he drinks, and you can see his adams apple bobbing with each swallow. Its rushed, and you wonder what’s got him worked up.

A car passes by outside, and the reflection is scattered. You turn back to your drink and swish the liquid, pretending to give a shit about the citrus peel inside. The motions feel strange with your left hand, but the right one is currently blockading you from Wolf.

He’s being awfully quiet, so you sneak a look at him.

His sharp gaze clashes with yours, and your heart leaps to your throat when you realize you were caught red-handed.

You clear your throat and set your cup down with a clink, dropping your right arm. You want to dish out an attitude to repay him for yesterday, but all you can muster is another quiet sigh.

“…Is there something you wanted?”

Your eyebrows pull together in a weak attempt to seem concerned, and when you pull up the corners of your lips, it feels like a thousand pounds.

There are bandages on his jaw, his neck, his nose, his forehead. Scratches everywhere else.

You feel for him, but the cool façade he puts up doesn’t seem to be looking for pity.

It was true he looked destroyed, yet the fiery spirit in his eyes burned bright, like coals crackling orange then splitting yellow in the fireplace. If you peered in for too long, they beckoned to you, dangerous but tempting.

He moves to answer you, and you’re mesmerized by the way his lips barely move when he speaks. He must not need to be loud to demand attention, you think. His fists do the work for him, which is ironic because you don’t hear him, too busy with staring at his face.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The corner of his lip tugs up a bit. He leans in closer and you can smell the whiskey on his warm breath, hot and wet on your face.

“You look like shit.”

Your body goes rigid and your throat closes. You’re not sure if it’s an adverse reaction to what he said, or a survival mechanism to avoid saying dumb shit that would land you in a hospital. The spite shoots into your gut, and it twists in irritation. If it shows on your face, he doesn’t react to it. You’re not sure if he’s too drunk to give a fuck about manners, or if he’s just like this all the time.

You scoff and wrap your fingers around your glass, clenching.

“So do you.”

He gives you a bit of a look, and it feels like amber eyes are slicing into your body, cupping your soul. You want to tear your gaze away, but he looks enchanting under the glow of the bulbs, hanging low. Eyes are half lidded, and it doesn’t help that hes angled himself to peer at you through his lashes, longer than you could’ve imagined. The alcohol induces a pink flush across his cheeks that seems to match the odd expression on his face.

You know he’s not trying to seem seductive, since his body language is still closed off. But when his tongue darts out to catch a drop of whiskey on his lip, you force yourself to look back down at your hands.

“Hah, fuck you.”

You grit your teeth and try to keep a straight face.

Did he sit next to you just to pick a fight? Why wasn’t he with his group of assholes? Were they waiting to ambush you?

You look up at him again, lips set in a grimace. “…Where are your friends?”

Wolf yawns to let you know he’s bored with your questions and doesn’t bother to cover his mouth. You want to shove him off the barstool but hold back for your own sake.

“Meeting. I didn’t go because the boss is a prick.”

You pretend to understand, but you don’t and he knows it.

“The Union, heard of it?”

You dig through the recesses of your brain and think you recall hearing some of the students at school gossiping about the “shuttle hatch,” so you tell Wolf that. He exhales a bit through his nose, and his lip quirks up again. He seems amused by something, but you have no idea what.

“Right. Shuttle hatch.”

There’s a long silence that stretches between the both of you after this, and it puts you on edge.

A minute passes into ten, into thirty. He doesn’t say anything else, but even though he sits there with an empty glass and a stomach full of whiskey, he won’t leave.

You’re beginning to feel like he’s testing you- challenging you, even. So you leave a sip of cosmo in your cup as an excuse to stay. You raise it to your lips now and then, and it’s lukewarm.

“What happened to your face?”

Wolf is distracted, eyes closed, face red and swaying slightly to the faint music over the speakers. You don’t think he’s even conscious until he speaks up, eyes still closed, body still swaying.

“Donald Na.”

His answer only served to confuse you more, and it definitely didn’t help that he spoke to cryptically.

“…Alright.” You mutter, not even attempting to hide your cluelessness. All these names and talking of bosses and unions confused you. It reminded you of a noir book you tried and failed to write, for obvious reasons.

Wolf understands the hesitation in your voice, “He’s my boss. The prick.”

Your head turns to him. He looks stupid swaying in the light with all those bandages on his face, but it was the face of someone far bolder than you, far less reservations. Even begrudgingly, you had to respect him for his audacity.

“Your boss did this to you?” When you ask, you forget to filter the worry out of it. It’s just a smidgen, but no doubt Wolf catches onto it immediately.

He peeks an eye open to assess your reaction, but you’ve stored it back in your sleeve in anticipation of this. He scoffs and closes his eye again. “Yeah. Fucker.”

You tap a finger on the counter, listen to your nail go click click click.

Talking to Wolf was like playing a game, it was just as enthralling as it was frustrating. Talking to people hadn’t ever been this hard, even after everything happened. The lulls in the conversation, the lapses in his sentences- there was a rhythm to it, a puzzle that felt like it’d complete you, too. You weren’t not sure how to describe it, but it feels strange, novel. Like you were scaling a mountain with no foreseeable end, but you wanted to conquer it. Wanted to show him, the whole world, you were still someone.

You scoff in response. “I don’t blame him. I’d sock you in the mug too if I had the chance.”

He shoots you a curious glance, but there’s light in his eyes, adrenaline rushing through his heart. You can see it in the way he shifts a bit in his seat, uncrossing then recrossing his legs.

“You have the chance now.”

You shake your head at him and purse your lips. When you speak, you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. “And give you the chance to throttle me after what happened last time? When hell freezes over.”

Wolf chuckles, it’s low, dark. Makes you nervous.

The hazel in his eyes is stirring now, like the tint of a cloud passing over splattered stars. When he smiles, he only uses half of his mouth to make a smirk, and it reminds you of the way a crescent moon curls, luminous, haunting, and almost sad.

“Are all girls this bitter after rejection?”

You entertain his dry joke with a dry laugh and clam up again. He doesn’t seem to care, but some tiny part of you wishes he did.

It was like playing with fire. Hot and destructive.

You both order another drink half an hour into the silence and finish it another half hour later. Now you’re just sitting here, both of you, seeping in the tension.

When your phone rings, it jolts you, not expecting the loud and obnoxious chime to be at maximum volume. The buzzing screen displays a name in big, bold letters:

ALEX GO

You look at the time above the name, 10:43PM. Your heart flutters once, twice.

Standing up from the bar, you push your drink with a sip left closer into the table.

“I’m going now,” you say to the air, in case Wolf isn’t listening. But he is.

When you glance at him, you just barely catch his eyes slipping from the phone in your hand to your blushing face.

There’s a wisp of something in the air, like smoke. Like jealousy. And then it’s gone.

He doesn’t respond and turns back around.

You feel almost disappointed, but promise yourself it doesn’t matter. But just before you head out, you hear Wolf speak again,

“Thanks.”

He pauses, like he’s pondering if he should explain why he’s thankful. Like he, himself, isn’t sure what he’s grateful for.

You understand him because you’ve felt it before too. You rest your hand on his slumped shoulders and give him a smile that you hope he can hear in your words.

“Get better soon, Wolf Keum.”

And again like last time, your heels click on mosaic tiles as you make your exit. The bell chimes, the door creaks, and hisses shut. The sound of the restaurant is drowned out by a peaceful silence. When you turn back to see if Wolf is watching, all you can see in the glass is your own gaze, peering back at you.