#like even if id known back then nothing would have come from it

[total-drama-takes]

I MISS GEORGE EZRA

like the .. musican guy?

[teamatsumu]

screenshot. (kita shinsuke x reader)

summary: your friend confesses on your behalf. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.

word count: 1161

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead d @priv-rose @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @whippedbel

event masterlist

Many of Kita’s friends and volleyball teammates think he is a stickler for routine. And they are right. But Kita isn’t rigid. He isn’t unchangeable. He accepts a break in routine, takes it in stride, learns from the turning tides and comes back with a smile on his face. Why else would he be the captain of the volleyball team if he didn’t know how to assimilate with rapidly developing circumstances?

Today, he is confronted with another such change. He is staring it right in the face. For a few moments, Kita cannot fathom the sight. How can it be? A red envelope in his locker? Surely, it must not be meant for him.

His next thought is how it got there in the first place. No one besides the volleyball team is allowed in the club room. He is the one who always opens it and he is also the one who locks up every night. Did someone sneak in during practice time?

Nothing else in his locker seems out of place. Just the letter placed delicately on top of the rest of his belongings. Kita finally reaches out for it, tugging on the flap to detach it and pulling out the crisp white paper inside. Kita is halted in his tracks when he realizes that there is no writing on the paper. It’s a print-out. Of a screenshot.

He eyes the text message chain, recognising the small icons on both the sender and receiver’s text bubbles. It’s Suna, his underclassman, and he also recognises you, the manager and his long time best friend.

‘I can’t stand it anymore suna!’

‘then just tell him’

‘u know i cant’

‘thats a u problem’

The next message is long, bordering on a whole paragraph, and Kita’s eyes skim over it. For the first time in a long while, his heart skips.

‘ive known him forever rin. hes such an amazing person and my best friend but he doesn like me that way. if i tell him im just gonna lose him as a friend and id rather we be friends than nothing at all’

The punctuation is atrocious, and the grammar is slightly questionable, but Kita smiles regardless. He carefully folds the paper again, placing it inside the envelope. He closes his locker and continues his evening routine of cleaning up and locking the club room.

Over the next hour as Kita cleans, his thoughts mull over the letter he had just received. The menial nature of the tasks relaxes him, gives him time to mull over this new information. Kita realizes that maybe he isn’t as perceptive as previously thought by his friends.

How can he have not seen that look in your eyes before? Softer than anything and directed only at him, now that he thinks about it. He ponders over your words, the insecurity and negativity behind them. He has never known you to be a negative person. You are endlessly optimistic and full of energy. You are so bright that Kita loves basking in it. He has known you for a very long time, and he is almost affronted that your budding romantic feelings were hidden from him for so long. Especially when Kita has made his courting intentions for you fairly clear.

He has not directly said anything. But he doesn’t think he was ever being discreet. But maybe he has been wrong in his approach. Maybe you hooking your arm with his when you walked to school in the morning, sharing lunches every day, permanently stealing a few of his choice hoodies were all friendly gestures on your part. While Kita has interpreted the gestures as romantic, it seems you have not felt the same heat behind those actions.

Kita has always walked the same route home, sometimes with Aran, sometimes with you, and sometimes on his own. Today he takes the walk alone, but he is not bothered. He has purpose in his mind, the red envelope in his hand, and his feet carry him all the way through the winding streets until he stops at your doorstep.

He smiles at the surprise in your eyes when you receive him at the door. He nearly coos at the fuzzy slippers on your feet, huge and with bunny ears on them, making your feet look twice their usual size. You are so cute. Kita scolds himself lightly, regretting that he had wasted so much time as your friend when maybe he could have spent it with you as his romantic partner. His girlfriend.

It has a nice ring to it, Kita decides.

“Shinsuke?” Your voice breaks his train of thought. The ‘what are you doing here’ is clear in your voice. Your eyes are wide and your face is questioning. There is a tinge of worry on your face, and Kita realizes that showing up unannounced may not have been the best idea. He isn’t sure what is going on in your head, but he quickly tries to quash your worries.

“Everything is fine.” Clear, direct, to the point. It’s Kita being Kita. “I’m here about something I found in my locker while closing up.”

He holds up the red envelope, and when you stare at it in confusion, he proceeds to open it and pull out the white paper. You take it when he offers it to you, unfolding it and reading the letter. If you can call it that.

Kita watches the color drain from your face, notices how the panic overtakes your features as you recognise the conversation printed in front of you. He feels his shoulders slump a little, lamenting the fact that you are truly scared about him finding out. What do you think he will do? Has Kita truly not made his intentions for you clear enough? He cannot help but self loathe in that moment, seeing the state you were in now.

“Shin-”

He doesn’t let you finish.

“If you will allow it, I would like to take you out for dinner this weekend. Will you be free on Saturday?”

You blink once, twice. Your mouth opens and closes. Kita is acutely reminded of a fish. He tries to tamp down his smile.

“R-really?”

He merely nods.

Slowly, life reinjects into your face. You seem to age in reverse before his very eyes. Your grip on the letter crinkles the paper slightly, and Kita reaches out to gently pry it from your hands and smooth it out. He stays quiet as you process his words. He thinks of hugging you, maybe even kissing you. But stops himself. Those are moments he will reserve for after your first date, after he has properly given you the best date of your dreams. So he keeps his eyes on the letter.

“Remind me to thank Suna for this letter.” He comments. “I must say, it’s the strangest confession letter I have ever received.”

There is a pause.

“You’ve received other confession letters?!”

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Lesson Learnt | John Price x Reader

Summary: Your good-for-nothing boyfriend won’t help you change out your flat tire in the cold, soaking rain, but luckily someone else comes along to assist, and teaches your boyfriend a lesson while he’s at it.

Word Count: ~ 1.6k

Warnings: annoying boyfriend, toxic relationship, platonic!gaz being a cutiepie, price being the greenest flag known to mankind, fem!reader, I’ve never changed a tire before in my life and it’s glaringly obvious…

A/N: been in a major writing slump lately+school kicking my butt+I think I’m getting sick, but full credit to @ceilidho for this idea, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Masterlist | Next

Your day hadn’t been the shittiest so far, but it certainly hadn’t been great.

You’d been off that day, but your boyfriend had called, needing you to pick him up early from his job for whatever reason. He only worked at some little restaurant in town with a decent salary, enough to get food and rent paid for combined with your money anyway. Something about his shifts being moved or the schedule being off, but whatever it had been had been enough for you to hop into his truck, drive over to him, and pick him up.

“Did you cook for dinner tonight?”

He asked from the passenger seat, the seatbelt not even on, despite it already being dark because of the early winter months, and the rain coming down against the windshield. Your lights were on, but still.

“No, wasn’t thinkin’ about it.”

You replied with a small mumble, and he sighed. You were the one who cooked and kept the housework up, and he earned most of the money. It would be balanced, except for the fact that you earned almost the same amount of money as him, and also worked full-time. It barely left any time for meals, most just being pre-prepped on weekends, or thrown together.

“Guess we can just get takeout then.”

He said, tone holding a bit of disappointment. You sighed inwardly, turning your turn signal on as you went down the road to one of the nearest places there. It was a run-down chicken joint that you were pretty sure was a front for some sort of illegal activities, but they had delicious chicken at cheap prices, so you weren’t complaining.

Your mind began to wander when you thought about the restaurant, and what you’d order. You hoped your boyfriend had brought his card because you’d left your wallet at home, ID and license long forgotten. Well, I guess you were just hoping to not get pulled over tonight, or come in contact with any cops.

As if whatever gods there were had heard your thought process, a small ‘thump’ caught your attention, and then a light squeaking sound as the air pressure in your front right tire began rapidly decreasing. With a sigh, you pulled over onto the side of the not-too-busy road. Your boyfriend gave an exasperated exhale.

“We’re gonna have to change the tire.”

You said, and he gave you a withering glance, jerking his chin towards the back of the truck.

“Spare’s in the back. Got a few tools back there to get ‘er done.”

A small pause for a moment as your hand reached for the handle of the door, and he didn’t move at all. You just stared in pure shock.

“You aren’t going to help?”

He gave you a look as if to say you were being ridiculous and illogical right now. You hated that look.

“I just got off work. I’m tired and hungry, and your poor driving skills aren’t my problem.”

He said with a shrug like it was obvious. Your mind still reeling, you searched for the little umbrella you kept near the console, only to find it missing. Great, just great, you thought.

With no other option, you stepped outside, immediately being pelted by the cold raindrops, and skin being lashed at by the harsh wind. You walked around to the trunk, opening the back, and finding the spare tire there, and a toolbox as well. Your shivering hands sorted through the cold metal tools, eventually finding a lug wrench, and a screwdriver, and behind the toolbox you found a jack.

You advanced towards the flat tire, rolling the spare behind you, and you knelt, skirt already soaking wet, your white shirt soaked through and not leaving much to the imagination as it was practically see-through and sticking to your form. The lug nuts didn’t come off easily, but somehow, your fingers got them.

Right when you began using the screwdriver to try and get the hubcap off, something else caught your attention.

Another car, beat up, but well-loved on and taken care of pulled up behind you on the side of the road. It stopped, and two men stepped out. One was taller, with a beard, a thick cigar in his mouth, and a hat on. He might’ve been one of the owners of that chicken restaurant. Whatever it was, he looked familiar. The other man had pretty brown skin, was less tall but still had some muscle in him like the other man, and wore his hat.

The taller one strode up to you just as you managed to pry the hubcap off. His brows furrowed as he looked at your boyfriend sitting in the car, and you, drenched in rain, changing the flat tire of the truck he assumed probably wasn’t even yours.

“Gaz, come help ‘er out wit’ this.”

He said, his voice brusque but also warm at the same time. Realizing he hadn’t introduced himself yet, he gave a nod of his head to you.

“John Price, that there is Kyle, but we call ‘im Gaz.”

You blinked, and Kyle walked over, crouching down next to you and offering a polite smile. One that didn’t quite meet his eyes, but it wasn’t rude. Price must’ve noticed your shivering form or the sheer white shirt that was clear because of the rain because he took his brown jacket off and put it around your shoulders. The insides were fuzzy and warm, and it was oversized, but enough to keep the heat insulated and the wet cold out. A bit surprised, you simply said your name.

“Oh..thanks. Y/N.”

You offered, for some reason trusting these strangers enough to give them your real name. Something about them felt right. Price nodded, then raised a brow at your boyfriend in the car, who still hadn’t noticed them, too preoccupied with his phone.

“What’s a pretty birdie like you doin’ changin’ wheels out here?”

John asked, and you weren’t sure what overcame you, but you cast a glance up at the boy in the car.

“He wasn’t going to help.”

Gaz and Price both looked slightly taken aback by that, exchanging glances, as Price opened up the door where your boyfriend was (avoiding hitting you or his sergeant's heads with it, of course) and pulled him out by the collar.

“Hey—what-“

Price shut him up real quick, then moved to hold him by the scruff of his neck.

“Now you listen here, why’ve you got your girl ou’ here doing all this work in the soakin’ rain, when you should be the one doing this, yeah?”

He asked, and your boyfriend turned a light shade of pink that wasn’t fully visible in the dark of the night.

“Well, I..”

“I’ll show you how a real man provides for his partner. Garrick, move over.”

He shoved your boyfriend back into the grass, and Gaz scooted more to the right, letting Price take the left side. Price carefully grabbed you by the hips and moved you back, out of the way, but to where you could still watch and hear him talk.

“Can’t believe it, ‘at’s ridiculous.”

He muttered, and Kyle shook his head.

“Can’t help but agree, sir.”

They used the jack to jack the car up, strong arms easily placing the spare tire in place, Gaz holding it up while Price screwed the lugnuts back on. While putting the hubcap back on, John began talking to you.

“You oughta find you a man, someone that would provide for you, that lil’ boy you got isn’t it. We’d never treat a woman like that, now would we, Gaz?”

“Never, sir.”

“Look at ‘im, two complete strangers are here, changing out his tire, and he ain’t offered a lick o’ help.”

He said, shaking his head, not even glancing back at your boyfriend who still was sitting in the grass behind you all. The hubcap was put back into place, and they both stood, lowering the jack before removing it. Price offered you a hand up, and you took it, surprisingly enjoying how his burly callouses felt against your soft skin. Kyle put the tools and jack back in the trunk, before again being at Price’s side.

His eyes met Kyle’s, and Kyle took out a small notepad and pen, scribbling something down, before passing it to John who did the same. They tore the paper off, handing it to you. It was their numbers, Gas’s having a little smiley face next to it, and Price’s having a simple ‘Call me’.

“If you’re ever in trouble, give us a ring.”

Price said, and Gaz nodded as if to confirm this. You took the piece of paper and folded it in half, putting it in your pocket to protect it from the rain. Price gave you a little pat on the back, and Gaz brushed his hand ever so slightly against yours, before they both walked back to their car, getting in, and driving off with nothing more than a wave.

With a judgemental look down at your boyfriend, you got into the car, throwing his things that were still inside out at him where he was still sitting in the grass.

“We’re done.”

And with that, you drove off before his angry cussing started.

It was only when you got home that night (to the shared apartment, which you would very soon be leaving) that you noticed something. Price hadn’t ever taken his jacket back.

[toutallyahoe]

━ stress relief (not really) ,, that's not my neighbor

requested by: – pairing(s): francis "milkman" mosses x male reader word count: 2503 warnings: cursing, monster fucking, blowjob a/n: joining the bandwagon on save the cow, milk the milkman teehee

switching from 3rd pov to 2nd pov for you tumblr gremlins

Looking at the ID and entry request that was pushed into the hatch, you took the bottom folder as you opened the page to flip through to the correct file and make sure the numbers were right on the ID of the individual in front of you. Also sent a quick glance at the list of people who should have been out and saw that yes... he was out.

Honestly, you have been doing this for months now. Miraculously surviving and not letting any doppelgangers in the building. Getting an employee of the month award for doing better than another doorman (Henry) and surviving. You were used to this job already and knew the tenants well even outside of your work hours, but it wasn't wrong to just double-check like always.

That's how you survived after all.

As you looked at the file and read through it, mentally listing the numbers down, a pain went through your head as you let out a hiss.

"You alright?" Looking at the security window, outside the clear glass, the Milkman's (or also known as Francis Mosses) tired eyes looked at you in worry as he tilted his head, a frown on his lips as he looked. You only nodded as you sent Francis a forced smile, not wanting to show any problem with anything. Having to work as a doorman, you should be calm and professional while not showing any weakness unless you want the doppelgangers to use that to their advantage.

"Yeah, it's nothing," You said as you looked back at the ID and file, sighing a bit in relief as you looked at the numbers. Clear. It wasn't a doppelganger... well... sparring a glance at the security window again, you squinted and the Milkman outside and he looked normal... no imperfections whatsoever from what you remembered... so it wouldn't hurt to answer Francis, right? The worried look on the Milkman's face was not one you wanted to see. "Just a headache, that's all."

"Oh... stress?" You let out a snort as you heard that. What else were there? When the lives of multiple people in this building and your own is in the hands of one single individual... one wrong mistake would lead to the whole building being painted in red. With innocent lives slaughtered by a doppelganger that was just unknowingly let in... who else wouldn't be stressed? The D.D.D. didn't give any training prior to this other than an old tape that you had to watch as you were plopped down into the job. It was truly a miracle you survived this after your first shift. No wonder almost 99.99% of the doormans die.

"You know how it is," You shrugged as you put back the folder in its place. Double-checking your checklist and the files you got one last time, you nodded in approval as you sent Francis a smile. "Well, yer all clear," You said as you reached out to unlock the door. Francis nodded in thanks as he disappeared to come in.

You let out a sigh as you locked the door when you made sure Francis came in, you then slouched in your chair. Closing your eyes as you raised a hand and rubbed your forehead to ease the growing pain you were feeling. God, you would love to get a fucking day off one of these days but unfortunately, there is no rest for the wicked... and that means no rest for the doorman as well.

"Are you really alright?" You let out a surprised yelp when you felt someone grabbed your shoulder from behind. You only calmed down when turned around to see it was just Francis who looked at you in worry. "You look stressed."

"Jesus, Francis," You breathed out as you sent out a glare while putting a hand over your heart, breathing in and out as you calmed yourself down. "You scared the shit outta me."

"Sorry," Francis said. "Just worried about you." He added as he squeezed your shoulder gently. Your glare softened after that. You and Francis had been... awkward to say the least. Not after Francis had one day went down on his knees to suck on your dick as you worked. To "relieve stress" and a "thank you" as Francis had said. You were haunted by the happenings of that day. With how the tired Milkman you have been seeing for months just on his knees, underneath your desk and shyly unbuckling your belt and pulling down your pants to suck you off. It was a pretty sight...

Unfortunately, before things got more heated, a doppelganger appeared in the security window to ruin things... which you knew was a doppelganger very well due to... well, it was very awkward when that doppelganger was pretending to be the very Milkman that was milking your dick at that very moment already. Long story short, the D.D.D. was called and both you and Francis (the real one) didn't do anything other than that. It had been awkward ever since as neither of you two talked things out.

"I'm fine, no need to worry," You said, patting Francis' hand on your shoulder as you sent the man a tired smile. "Just a headache like I said... it'll pass."

Francis let out a hum, his tired eyes looking at you as he thought for a moment and then smiled. "Stress, right? How about I help you with that?"

It was like what happened before. Francis was on his knees, tucked comfortably underneath the desk as he was in between your legs. His tired eyes were half-lidded as he focused on the bulge in front of him. Something in his eyes that you can't put a finger to it. Not like you would focus on that when Francis' hands went to grab your inner thighs, rubbing it gently as it seemed like he didn't know what to do before he leaned forward and mouthed at your cock through your pants.

Softly groaning at the sight, you leaned back in your chair as you just watched Francis keep this up for a bit until he was done with the tease to then unbuckle your belt and unzip your pants to pull it down. Nuzzling at the bulge on your underwear as Francis breathed in and softly moaned.

"Taking your time?" You can't help but asked, you weren't really complaining as either way you were getting a blowjob here by the tired yet handsome Milkman. Taking the hat off and putting it on your desk, you ran your fingers through Francis' short brown hair as the man let out a keen noise at your actions. "I don't mind... but someone may arrive soon and you wouldn't want anyone to see you like this, right, Mosses?"

Francis hummed as he looked at you, eyes shining. "Can't I admire you?" He asked as he nuzzled his face back at the bulge, taking a deep inhale as he dug his nails into your inner thighs. "I want to savour this..."

An amused huff left your lips as you stared down at Francis. Something about this man was being affectionate right now and sure, maybe you didn't know Francis Mosses that well as you both had only done this once before and it was even cut short before you could come in that warm mouth of the Milkman but it was rather cute. You didn't expect Francis to have a side like this... unfortunately, you remembered what happened last time as well.

"Well, if we continue with this pace, we might get caught," You said as you pet Francis' head, pausing for a second as you continued. "You can admire later... if you want, we can continue this after my shift..." Hesitant, you were, but you finally said it. And you hoped that if Francis agreed, you both could talk about... you two as well.

"Hm, yes," Francis murmured as he finally pulled down your underwear.

Francis inched closer to your thick cock, gulping the saliva that was produced in his mouth as he stared wide eyes at it. The hand that gripped on his hair brought him back from his thoughts as Francis mumbled a quiet sorry as he then grabbed your dick with his hand. Stroking the shaft as Francis looked up for a moment to see you watching him. You nodded at him and that gave Francis the courage as he leaned close and pressed a soft kiss on the tip, smearing pre-cum on his lips that Francis immediately licked. A pleased hum left his lips as he continued on. Pressing another kiss as he then sucks on the tip, tasting more of your seed. It didn't take long before Francis got down on the cock, swallowing it down in his throat so eagerly.

Francis did have a little bit of trouble as you were rather big and he barely even have any experience of how to take a cock with his mouth, but that didn't stop him. He eagerly descended down huge dick and Francis can't help but moan as he felt the way your cock twitched on his throat. He was even more pleased with himself when he heard you moaning and praising he was doing better than last time.

Francis squeezed your thighs at that last comment with his other hand that wasn't on your dick as he tried to get used to such a large thing inside his mouth, but after a while, Francis slowly bobbed his head up and down on your cock. Softly moaning at times as clumsily sucked.  

"Use your hands," Francis heard you say. It took a moment but once he realized what you meant, the hands that stopped their stroking earlier were now back with their movements again, stroking the part where he couldn't fit in his mouth. "That's it."

You can't help but grab a fistful of Francis' short brown hair as you guided the man to suck you more better. Francis was very clumsy and clueless at this like last time... even more clumsy than before honestly but it was fine as the Milkman made up for being very eager. You didn't miss the occasional glances Francis throw your way as he sucked on your cock. It was very cute. Especially when you would give the man praise after catching his eyes, it only makes Francis more eager to suck on your dick more. Truly adorable.

Francis pulls back and gave a kiss on the tip of your cock before sucking and flicking his tongue on the slit, making sure to catch your eyes as he did. Francis knows what he was doing now from what you can tell. It seemed like the man had grown brave after some time on sucking your dick. A loud, deep growl escaped from your lips as you watched Francis take your cock back in his mouth. Fucking tease.

"This is your fault," you grunted as you grabbed a fistful of Francis' hair. You planned to punish Francis for this. Pulling Francis a little bit away from your dick, the Milkman was confused as he whined a little until you pushed his head all the way down. Francis let out a noise akin to choking as he gagged a little at your cock, tears in his eyes. Francis' body shook as his eyes rolled back. Dry cumming from just that. And you realize what just happened.

Shit. That was hot.

"Suck," You commanded and Francis complied, seemingly not mentally present as he did. Francis continued to go down your cock until it hits the sensitive spot in the back of his throat, moaning immediately.

Grabbing the sides of Francis' head, you decided to take matters to your own as you fucked your cock down the Milkman's throat. Using Francis' warm mouth as your own fleshlight and it seemed like Francis didn't mind. Just letting you be as Francis would eagerly suck on your cock.

It didn't take long until you reached your peak as you breathed heavily. Feeling Francis' throat tightened around your cock, you can't help but shove Francis' head down again while you came. Spilling your load down Francis' throat who didn't have a choice but took it. Not like Francis wouldn't have it any other way anyway.

You slumped in yout chair as you let go of Francis' head, breathing heavily as you looked down at the Milkman and was surprised that Francis never break away from your dick. Instead, Francis caught your eyes as the man gave you a grin while your cock was still in his mouth. You were truly surprised. It seemed like Francis had swallowed your cum but you expected Francis to break away and catch his breath, maybe spit out your cum but no... was this the same Francis who had trouble with sucking your dick earlier, right?

You shake your head and decided to just focus on looking at the man who's still on your cock. Taking the time to admire the pretty sight of Francis as you ran your fingers through Francis' short hair, wiping the sweat on Francis' forehead— did Francis always have a mole there?

A cold shiver suddenly spread throughout your body as you looked at the mole on the right side of Francis' forehead. You didn't notice it before as it was hidden from sight with the hat and Francis' short brown hair but... Francis must have, right?

You didn't pay mind to Francis slowly bobbing his head up and down your dick again as you tried to remember if you ever saw Francis had a mole there from the last time the Milkman had sucked you off. That day was hazy for you as you had to deal with Francis literally sucking you off and then deal with a doppelganger that looked like the same man that was sucking you off underneath the desk and then calling the D.D.D. to clean up the imposter...

Yeah... Francis must have a mole, right? You just didn't notice it before. Yeah, that was righ—

"[Name]?"

You froze as you looked at the security window... the individual that was on the other side of the glass window had an all-familiar white attire, "Milkman" on their hat, and tired eyes that looked at you in worry. Similar. So fucking similar.

"You alright?"

Fuck.

The individual outside was none other than the Milkman, Francis Mosses.

"Problem, dear?" You looked down at your legs and you felt your heart drop at seeing the "Francis" that was kneeling in front of you give you a smug smile, your cock still on his— it's lips. "Francis'" hand gripped at your inner thighs, the nails looked more like claws to your mind now as you felt your body shudder. Those tired eyes looked at you with sick amusement. "You looked stressed."

Fuck indeed.

[jinogasux-fr]

Santae banned me without telling me why and won't unban me unless I send them my photo ID

Hey guys sorry for not posting in… forever? I just suck at social media lol. But you may have seen that I've reblogged some posts that advertise Santae in the past, but please disregard all that. I've since deleted those posts after learning how the site is managed and, after what happened to me a few days ago, I feel as though I should go public about this. Because boy did I just get fucked over.

Anyway, yeah, what it says in the title. On October 24th, around 10am EST, I was restocking my user shop when the entire webpage went white. I couldn't access the site at all and, when I tried to look for the Discord on my server list, it wasn't there. I knew what this had meant. I got banned from both the game, and the Discord - this is important to keep in mind for later.

I didn't receive any Discord DM or email notification about my ban, so after asking a mod what their support email was (and yes, I later verified that this is indeed their legitimate support email), I sent them this:

After a few hours, I get this back in response:

There's so much I'm confused about here. I think the one that screams out the most is that they're asking me to show them my photo ID so I can get unbanned. Absolutely not. I refuse to do this. This poses a massive security and privacy risk. They straight up banned my account, gave this half-baked explanation, and told me I need to send my personal information or... I stay banned?

Let me make something clear: The only personal thing they have on file about this account is the email address that I created my account with, which I've also used to contact them. My real name, date of birth, anything of that nature would not be connected because this was not asked for during account creation, therefore this wouldn't actually prove I'm the account holder. Theoretically speaking, I could show them any ID in the world and for all they know, that's my real information, because they have nothing else to go off of. They even say as much in their privacy page.

Secondly, "account has been compromised"? What does that mean? I think anyone's interpretation of this would be that my account got hacked. But if my account got hacked, why wasn't I informed of this? I had to reach out to support, they did not reach out to me first. That means my password, which I may share across other sites, would have been known to someone else and thus I should've been warned of this immediately, not roughly 5 hours after the fact.

Thirdly, what, was my Discord "compromised" too? If an automated system had flagged my account, does that system somehow interact with a Discord bot so they ban a user on both at the same time? How does that work? That makes no sense as to why they'd ban me on both the game and the Discord for something like this, which is why I'm calling bullshit.

Let me tell you what I think happened.

Recently, Santae has been in some really hot water with connections revealing their relation to an older petsite, Lurapets, which has a history of scamming and artist mistreatment, as well as proof coming out of them using AI art for their NPC art. You can find these posts on the @santae-salt blog if you want to see for yourself, but I'm also linking them throughout this post.

Once the post about them being directly related to Lurapets was released, several users that the Santae staff thought might be involved in the creation of the post got banned. As it turns out, I was banned at the same time as these users.

After speaking with the @santae-salt admin, we are both of the belief that I, a regular user, got caught up in this mess because they're assuming I'm an alt account of someone else and staff demanded to see my ID because they didn't think I was a different person. It may turn out to be wrong, and yeah that sounds a bit far-fetched, sure, but really, what else can I go off of here?? Santae staff has given me a very questionable and refutable explanation as to why I've been banned, and their radio silence after I refused to send them my ID is just making me believe they don't think I'm real. They don't want my photo ID to verify I'm the account holder, they want my photo ID to verify I'm not someone else.

This is unprecedented. I've never seen any petsite ask for a photo ID in any situation, and after asking around, not even those banned from Santae were asked for this. It's just me! This is an incredible attempted breach of privacy, and, with Santae now under doxxing allegations, I really don't feel confident they'd keep my personal information… well, personal.

I messaged back almost immediately after they responded to me where I told them I would not send my ID and I had asked if there were any other way I could verify myself to get my account unbanned. I've received no response so far, and after what I've learned, I feel like I'm not going to get one at all.

So, let this be a lesson to you: don't waste your time on Santae. You can be the most obedient player out there. You can abide by all their rules, be a nice and generous player, or just be minding your own business, but if they so much as think you're associated with someone who they think has wronged them, you'll be banned.

And they can't even be bothered to properly tell you why.

[writingstoraes]

hearty meals 🍳

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!chef!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: randomly got this idea so decided to do this first lolol lmk what u guys think! also this takes me back to charles cooking pasta and him saying it's still hard 😭

about: the dynamics of a really good chef and charles, who's well-known for being amazingly great at cooking.

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, carlossainz55, and 1,560,394 others

charles_leclerc Sent out dinner invitations thinking only half would accept, here we are in complete attendance 😆 Kidding, it was nice to be with these people for a night!

Props to my amazing girlfriend for preparing the entire meal, from appetizers to dessert and even everyone's round two's. Sorry I'm not of more help, amour 😅

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly No one asked you to host dinner 🤨

charles_leclerc Be glad you got an invitation carlossainz55 Shouldn't have sent him one mate pierregasly I will come for you, Carlos

sainzlover i am once again going feral over 20 men who go broom broom this is so on brand of me

yourusername i'm sorry too actually

charles_leclerc Baby what yourusername i'm kidding, i love you 😘

lewishamilton Thanks for hosting, Y/N and Charles!

yourusername

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, lilymhe, and 342,103 others

yourusername cooked dinner for like 20+ hungry drivers last night 🍷 totally wiped out but i had such a good time! kudos to charles for being able to chop some parsley last night - he did a mega job :)

landonorris Sorry what were you saying I'm still in a food coma

danielriciardo Loved the food, Y/N! Glad you anticipated I'd be going for round three 😊

yourusername let me know how heidi likes the food i packed for her hahaha heidiberger LOVED it please always cook for us 🙏

carlossainz55 How hard can chopping parsley be

yourusername well it took your teammate a solid 20 minutes so you tell me 😆 charles_leclerc Please don't air out my culinary talents like this

sebastianvettel Thanks for cooking, Y/N! Loved the food a lot. You really exceeded Charles' description of your cooking, so please teach him 🙏

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, isahernaez, carlabrocker, and 209,239 others

yourusername charles and i made some of whatever this is last night 🍫

landonorris I don't believe in the "Charles and I" part

charles_leclerc That's literally the first two words? yourusername what's not to believe 😊

pierregasly Y/N come on come clean, you did that all by yourself

charles_leclerc I have flour on my face... pierregasly So? You're a mess in the kitchen, dude

sebastianvettel What exactly did Charles do?

yourusername sliced the strawberries and peeled the bananas.... landonorris LMAO KNEW IT carlossainz55 Laughing so hard this is the best day of my life

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, redbullracing, mercedesamgf1, and 674,293 others

scuderiaferrari A successful team dinner at Maranello all thanks to Chef Y/N and her team! All meals were truly exceptional and best believe everyone left well-fed and satisfied ❤️🧑‍🍳

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc My girl 🤍

yourusername thanks for the opportunity, ferrari! let me know when's the next one 🫡

arthurleclerc I hope Charles took home some of these

rarrigirl PLSSS WHAT ID GIVE TO EAT SOME OF Y/N's CREATIONS

culinaryenthusiast what can she not do omg she can bake too???

yourusername recently added to her instagram story!

charles_leclerc recently added to his instagram story!

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, scuderiaferrari, lorenzotl, and 1,842,294 others

charles_leclerc I am not the best cook so if anyone wonders what my participation is in the kitchen, nothing I just stare at the pretty chef and flirt with her every 10 minutes 😆

yourusername you sure are the best at that :]

charles_leclerc I know 😘

landonorris Is that in my kitchen....

yourusername oops landonorris You are so lucky you're my favorite chef

danielricciardo I miss Y/N's food when is the next dinner?

charles_leclerc Next year, probably pierregasly No? We're coming over on Friday

-----------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: tysm for reading <3

[moondirti]

animalic (5)

← chapter four // series masterlist

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 3.4k summary: an unwelcome confrontation warnings: enemies to lovers, violence, blood and injury, mentioned death, fighting, angst, morally questionable characters, miguel o'hara is not nice notes: this chapter caused several headaches and i don't even like the end result, but i can't pick at it forever sooo. enjoy!

While you’ve never been renowned for making the most accurate of assumptions, there are certain patterns you’ve come to expect in order to have survived this long. To never have a glass of orange juice after brushing your teeth, or maintain eye contact while being threatened. That a kilogram of antimatter produces ten billion times the energy of chemical combustion upon annihilation, and that any quantity larger than that should not be contained.

Of such paradigms, you’ve noted only one to be entirely reliable. That a spider-hero would always fight crime, whatever the greater good. 

“Absolutely not.”

You might’ve been mistaken. 

“Those people are in danger, O’Hara.” You strain, trembling against the cough battering your chest. Your diaphragm spasms with every stride he takes, crushed against the curve of his broad shoulder, desperate to make up for lost breath. 

He lets the plea hang, countenance obscured from your view. With the way he carries you now, all that meets your eye is navy – navy, and the bright red geometry stretched over the brawn of his back. The nanotech suit warps to fit every muscle, glinting as they push forward to meet the sun. And it dips, right between his shoulder blades, lining a clear contour of the anatomy he fails to hide. A dosser of intercostal sinew. Tapered laterals, cinched to curve at–

Your core broils uncomfortably, and his grip tightens around your knees, levelling up to the degree of his treatment thus far. After slinging off that rooftop, he’s made sure to keep you particularly close, like the effort could prevent your powers from manifesting. Like you could make it happen. 

(Though, he doesn’t know that you can’t.)

But he’s smarter than that. If nothing else, it serves as a cautionary gesture. A reminder. You’re disarmed – quite literally – the only force between your nose and the sidewalk being the behemoth of a man whose body you’re strewn across. And, if you could control it – transcend the material at any given whim – it would be the extent and end of your efforts. Not with the neon webs binding you, nor your clear lack of skill. 

The wind quivers with the distant sounds of calamity. You’re drawn back to the very real situation at hand. 

“You make for a lousy excuse of a spiderman if your first instinct isn’t to save them!” You raise your voice, hoping to be heard over the sirens that blare towards the destruction. By counting them as they pass – two, four, six – you’re able to assign a severity to it. But it isn’t, won’t be, enough. You’d heard the screeches; primordial, clawing out from beyond the capabilities of an ordinary threat. You’d felt them – seeping into your bones, grating the spongy marrow – until Miguel had gathered enough obduration to reel you in the complete opposite direction.

Speaking of– 

You tilt your head upwards, surveying the street down which he runs. It’s deserted, yet the presence of its civilians is slower to leave, a molasses that slinks towards locked doors. It’s thick with an apathetic acceptance, bordering on resignation – bitter and not unlike your own resting inclinations. You’ve never known an evacuation to happen this fast, especially this far out from the scene; people are stubborn like that, refusing to face what isn’t in front of them. That is to say, they might be used to it.

“You’re not even going the right way, dickhead!” 

Of all things, that makes him stop. 

(Of course it does.)

Your form flops uselessly as he turns to make sense of his surroundings. There’s the sign – 30 St and 7th – which should give any New Yorker an idea, but he doesn’t linger on it. Instead, he shoots a web to wrap around the railway of a fire escape, propelling the both of you onto an accompanying balcony. Swallowing the bile that swells along your throat at the sudden jump, you shoot him an incredulous look, which he chooses to ignore as he drops you to the floor. 

His mask retreats, hair bouncing upon escape from its smothering embrace. For all that he tries to hide his pinched lips, you sense the scepticism emanating off him in waves. 

You take a moment to stew over it, examining him while he calculates the path of your previous chase. From the convenience, to the corner, and into a nearby store lot. Perhaps he hadn’t been paying notice – which you sincerely doubt, considering the efficiency with which he treats everything else. Could he really be unfamiliar with the layout of a city his job is to protect? Or–

It occurs to you steadily, washing up on the fringes of your arrogance; a realisation in pieces.  

Nueva York. 2099. 

A metropolis. Likely one with no grid system. 

Your cackle beckons his attention, severe stare snapping to your grin.

“We’re on Seventh.” You specify.

He cocks his head, nostrils flaring. Warning or question – you have a hard time deciphering the difference. 

“The convenience was on Sixth and Third. You know, third avenue, East of Fifth?” You push it, spurred by your awareness that he, in fact, does not know. 

“¡Ándale pues! What exactly is your point?” 

“We continued down east until you bit me, judging by the way the sun hit the lot upon rising. But now, we’re on Seventh, on the other side of Fifth.”

His jaw clicks, pulsing in irritation. You toe the line of what you can get away with, how long you can drag this out before he decides you’re not worth the trouble. 

“West. You’re heading West, and–” Wriggling, you adjust your posture into one more reflective of your current pride. “If you have any hope of finding that day pass, then you’re gonna need to go back.” 

The bid translates, weighty, bubbling like the arid smoke off nuclear strife. He processes it, understands – you watch as it unfolds in that intimidatingly intelligent glare – yet the circumstance takes a while to establish itself. Even when it does, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of a full blown breakdown. No. His hands just find his hips, chin sloping to the sky.

“No puedo más, no puedo más, no–” 

You probably shouldn’t rub it in any further. 

“Since it’s on our way–” 

"No." He snaps, voice laced with a prickling irritation that sears through his supposed indifference. The heat of it greets you, wiping the simper that had begun stretching your cheeks. “You must think this is some game, and while that might explain the shit you’ve pulled in the past, I have a responsibility. I can’t interfere with their canon.” 

“So, what? You’re just gonna let them die?” 

His expression lifts, brows rising expectantly, like he’s imploring you to shut up without his verbal confirmation. 

Right.

It starts like a taut bowstring, straining as it verges on release. 

On one end, there’s Apollo; drawing his arrow, a god amongst men. The direction with which he aims his weapon can be seen as prophetic – plague was always meant to befall the crowd at his mercy, their fates little more than a thread of mass design. Some call it righteous – epithets dedicated to his name – agreed upon by the same men who claim that rational means right. Some craft sculptures in his visage, this muse of the kouros, likening stone to flesh and deluding the observer that the two can be synonymous. Nietzsche, Bernini. You, yourself, had managed to believe that the muscle rippling below you could be anything but an Athenian tragedy. 

You linger on how startlingly poetic it all is, and the string pulls tighter. You’ve never claimed to be a hero, but you have the instinct, just the same. He, on the other hand, seems entirely dismissive of the urge you assumed would wreck him too. 

(Partially your fault. You know better than to expect the obvious from him – that’s his pattern.) 

As the two of you veer closer to the havoc, the arrow discharges, striking the tension that’s kept you still thus far. When it snaps, it shatters, congealing to form a beset of sounds, sights, fear. Heaving sobs from a limping group of friends – the middle one rapidly losing blood from what you can tell. The pungent clog of burning debris, fed by the ash that lays suspended, mid-air. The painful creak of metal collapsing in on itself, peppered amongst the constant buzz of radio static. Miguel curbs to a stop, hidden in the notch of an alleyway, and uses the cover to reposition you in his carry. You go from slung over his shoulder to laid across his arms – not quite bridal style, but a placement similar enough that he retains a solid hold of you. 

His mask comes back up, concealing the cynicism that had begun to creep up onto you both. You scoff at the unambiguity of the action, the parallel it poses to the reality at hand. He blocks himself to the obvious, the avoidable. 

Glowering, you trace his line of vision to the encompassing wreckage. The street appears hauntingly familiar, thrumming with the hurried echoes of a recent memory. It lacks the colourful components – the vivid signage, the star speckled windows – yet, you recognize it all the same. The very avenue you frantically traversed only hours ago. Your companion, too, begins to grasp the truth, and you find yourself biting your cheek, a twinge of unease settling in as the revelation hits you: that perhaps you had divulged too much, far surpassing the realm of personal gain. 

Yeah, the day pass is here. And you can only hope that he won’t find it.

For now, though, it appears to be the least of your worries. 

A crimson creature prowls along the fringes of the decimated ruins – deliberate, relaxed, like a predator with its teeth already halfway dug in its meal – circling a man clad in a lab coat. Its size is menacing enough; standing at seven feet, with limbs as thick as pipes. Yet, what truly strikes you are the protruding bulges flanking either side of its jaw, and the white, emblematic eyes gazing out from upon its face. 

“Spider-person?” You whisper, not so much looking for clarification as you were putting the possibility out there. Miguel is unwavering, dead-set on waiting the interaction out. 

“Something like that.” He affirms. 

“Y’know, I remember you, doc!” The creature jibes, its inflection nearing maniacal. “You sat on my jury! Yes, yes. Hard to forget a shiner like that.” Laughing, it points to the balding patch atop its victims head. He trembles, bowing in a silent cry. 

“O’Hara–” 

“Wraith.” He warns. 

“Sixty seven years! Not even you look that old, ‘course you don’t understand how damning that sentence was! But you see, I got lucky. Some higher being must’ve taken pity on me, enough to grant me this miracle of a symbiote. Mhm, yeah–” He skips closer to his prey, considering him in the new light. “‘Cause now I can do things like…” A sharp blow echoes. The glassy spear, red as the flesh it extends from, skewers through the doctor’s chest, a spout of blood following through on the other end. “This!”

Miguel’s palm slaps over your mouth, knee supporting the portion of your body he releases whilst angling you away from the scene. You’re thankful for it, despite the overwhelming anger you bear against him. You’ve no trust in the horror that wracks you suddenly, all at once. It launches you back to that convenience, the robbery. How powerless you had been to stop the clerk from dying out, your hoodie fruitlessly wedged to her neck. You’d been spared the grief so far – the blur of the last day tamping to little more than an aching numbness. Yet you should have appreciated that it couldn’t last; guilt is far too familiar a prospect for you to have expected it to let off so soon.

(Your mistake.) 

“Oops. Did that go through your heart? My bad, doc.” It howls, stuck in its own stand-up routine. “You’d been doing your… erm– civil duty, sure.” The loud squelch of gore triggers the imagery for you, regardless of your averted gaze. The limb-turned-spear being pried out from between his ribs, caked in bits of tissue. 

Dead. You could’ve prevented it. 

He could have. 

From behind the veil of unshed tears, you watch as he ponders the risk of retracting his hand. You betray nothing, blinking back the hot dismay from your eyes, and instead meet his regard in cold defiance. Slowly, as though your apparent sensibility means anything, he removes the muzzle. 

You contemplate screaming, to coax the creature from the group of people it has surrounded and make it Miguel's problem to handle.

Then, you remember your rather unsavoury predicament. How prone you are to harm with your limbs locked; you aren’t the best in combat, but you still could’ve stood a chance at survival if it wasn’t for your restraints. 

Your captor reaffirms his grip, tucking you to his figure as he creeps up to a corner. His back remains glued to the brick wall, obscured in shadow. The stance is primed – far from the hesitant sidle he’d adopted before. It isn’t hard to figure out why; you see it too, buried under a pile of trash bags, on the other side of the road. Purple, luminescent. 

The day pass. 

As if on cue – choreographed by a sadistic deity with no favour for anyone involved – you glitch. 

It doesn’t last long, but it’s enough for you to fall to the ground, erupting in a pained groan. The creature twists to lay its terror on your curled frame, shaded by a man who – despite his vast height – is dwarfed in comparison to its colossal self.

“Better start learning not to ignore my spidey sense! I’d felt you tiptoein’ over there,” It growls, neck stretching in preparation for attack. 

“We’re not here for you.” Miguel urges. 

“No? That hurts my feelings, and here I was thinking you wanted to be friends.” At the feral rip of its taunt, it lunges, tearing through the space separating you. The spider-man, in turn, dodges the barrelling assault, swinging in a blur of motion to a wreck not far off. You thank God for his flashy suit; the creature seems to forget you completely, pivoting to charge at him again. 

You force yourself to look away, sickened at the unhinged savagery with which it thrashes. There are people still around, crippled by quickly debilitating injuries, the paramedics meant to aid them now amongst the lost. This is what you wanted – the opportunity to help – and of course you’re still hindered by the asshole who’d refused you in the first place. Desperation weighs heavy on your chest as your eyes scan the spoilage, seeking anything you could use to cut yourself free. And there, you catch it – the sharp end of a broken gutter, its jagged edge catching the afternoon sun.

Using your heels as anchors, you push yourself across the coarse pavement. It isn’t a long way, thankfully, but sweat already starts to dampen your shirt by the time you reach the potential lifeline. Angling yourself, you press the webs to the serrated metal, ready to start shoving. That is, until you remember Miguel; how he sat on your legs, his talons performing much the same feat. He made sure to hold your wrists apart, so you didn’t suffer damages he didn’t intend. 

You remedy your approach, arms straining to separate, then thrust downwards. The telltale signs of your success come as pops, like elastic bands splintering. Then, it’s the easing pressure on your skin, irritated and surely marked in places where the binds come undone. 

The makeshift blade catches your elbow once you’re halfway down, burying deep enough to touch bone. The world narrows to the searing intensity that blazes up your nerves, eclipsing all else. You almost forget your goal, your brain stirring signals to pull away, but the fight that rages in your peripheral is only growing more barbaric. Alarmingly, Miguel is losing. 

If he dies, you’re next, and it’d all be in vain. 

Biting your tongue, you stifle the pain and continue pressing. The gutter inches sideway, ripping through flesh and web like butter, the sleeves of your top mangling at its lip. Miraculously, you stay awake for the time it takes to finally get your arms loose. It’s harder to preserve that triumph when you sit up, though, dizziness distorting the plan of action you’d set for yourself. 

(Get… get the people to safety. Then, your legs. No–

Free your legs, get the people to safety. And… what? 

The day pass. Yeah.

But Mig–)

Your body moves with an unsettling disconnect from your own command. Unable to fully grasp the dissonance, you blanch in bewilderment as you navigate the clearest cut path through it all. A dance in a mechanical rhythm; pulling the webs off your calves, running over to the nearest civilian, and helping them up on their feet. And again. And again. 

There’s a boy, young enough that you worry he doesn’t understand you’re harmless. His cherubic face is coated in a grey layer of dust, disturbed only by the tear marks that run from big eyes. His foot has been crushed, stormy blue blotching his knee. You dismiss the agony of your numerous wounds and crouch to pick him up, hugging him to your chest. 

New squadrons of emergency services trickle in, careful to leave their sirens off as they round the corner. It’s an odd enough choice that it distracts you from the child’s fingers, which dig into your abrasion for purchase. An ensemble of prospects occur to you. 

When you hand him off to an awaiting EMT, it clicks. 

What’d the creature call itself? A symbiote? 

(You haven’t always been science-oriented.

Freshman year of college, you’d joined as an undeclared major within the school of arts and architecture. ‘Course, you only had your general education requirements to fulfil at the time; useless classes that fit your self-imposed four day weekend, meant to do fuck all as your tuition went to waste. Needless to say, your ambition had been directed at more carnal pursuits. 

Then, there was astronomy. It’d awakened your curiosity for the cosmos.

Astro 8, to be exact. Life in the Universe. Your post-midterm lesson had been on a recently discovered,  space-faring civilization. Symbiotes – they were called – based on the initial assumption that they thrived in mutual beneficial relationships with other lifeforms. But the projection that flickered for its class of drowsy students entailed another truth entirely. Darkened bullet points in big, bold letters. Known weakness. 

Fire, and sound.)

You sprint towards a nearby cop car, its door wide open and the driver's seat vacant. It’s instinctual, devoid of consideration. A singular objective dominates you, beyond the day pass – to kill that thing. Not for Miguel, who’s choked in its gnarled hand. Not for yourself, or your deep-rooted desire for heroism. No. Just for them – the boy and that group of friends, the doctor who still lays dead on the scene. For the sake of this world, and to reconcile the life you took just last night, as if such a trade-off could absolve you of the weight of your sins.

Stepping on the gas, you accelerate abruptly, gaining speed with every pothole you drive over. It looms ahead, crouched in front of a hollowed-out apartment complex, suffocating the futurist spider-man and vibrating with glee. If you can align it – aim and time it just right…

You activate the wail siren. Your hypothesis is validated when it screeches in response to the racket, throwing Miguel off to the side. 

Good. He won’t be collateral.

You grab a gun from the cupholder on the dash, throwing it on the pedal to keep it down, then jump to the backseat. 

The impact is seismic; a violent convergence of metal and brick and brawn that sends shockwaves rippling throughout your being. You become captive to the merciless momentum, forcefully propelled against the leather cushions. Chronic whiplash shreds upon the vulnerable muscles holding the weight of your concussed head; its talons raking through the fibres, pulling apart the once sturdy tissue. A relentless ring envelops the cacophony of noise, and silences it into one, tender hum. 

You’re hauled out the window, detained in the embrace of some unspecified form, which settles above you for cover as the building comes crumbling down. 

Or – not unspecified. 

That mix of patchouli and musk.

Your consciousness turns to black as you're buried beneath the rubble.

chapter six →

follow @moondirti-archive and turn on post notifs to be alerted of future updates!

[chahnniesroom]

in sickness and in health

pairing: kim seungmin x female reader

summary: you're the most important thing in seungmin's life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you. it means that taking care of you when you're not feeling well comes naturally.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: a little bit of angst, sickness (fever, feeling nauseous, etc.)

a/n: partially inspired by me being ill at work and my amazing coworkers taking care of me and making sure i didn't faint lol.

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Seungmin loves being an idol. 

He loves to sing and performing in front of Stays always thrills him. He loves the other members and really, everyone else that he gets a chance to work with. At times it can be stressful, but for the most part, it’s fairly easy to manage the downsides of being famous.

But when he started dating you, he found out that there are parts of being an idol that he hates.

He always thought that he'd be different from a lot of idols and wouldn't be afraid to show his partner off. The second he met you though, he knew he'd do anything and everything in his power to keep you safe. You understand, of course, and do your part to make sure that only your closest friends and family are aware of who you're dating.

It pains Seungmin to do this, but he knows nothing good can come out of your identity being known.

The two of you are more than careful, sometimes Seungmin feels silly with how cautious he is about meeting up with you. Yet somehow his heart always feels like it will beat out of his chest whenever he sees articles that speculate about idol relationships.

You do your best to stop him from stressing, but it’s something that Seungmin can't quite shake. You're the most important thing in his life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you.

—

The first time his phone rings during a livestream with the whole group, Seungmin brushes it off. The caller ID says it's an unknown number and everyone he knows has been receiving a lot of spam calls and texts lately. 

He swipes away the notification and tries to focus on just reading comments when the same number calls back, a couple minutes later. He ignores it again, but on the third call, he nudges Chan’s knee beside him and subtly tilts his phone screen so that Chan can see. His phone is on silent so nobody watching the live should be able to tell that he's getting the calls, but the timing feels too coincidental for him not to be suspicious. 

"They keep calling," he says under his breath. 

"We'll get someone to look into the number later, just keep ignoring it," Chan advises quietly.

Seungmin takes a quick screenshot of the number, then tries to get back into the conversation to distract himself. The next time he looks down at his phone again, someone is once again calling him.

Seungmin almost reflexively rejects the call, until he realises it's your nickname flashing up on his screen.

You generally don’t call Seungmin without warning, especially not during the day when there’s a higher chance that Seungmin won’t be able to readily answer.

[sent - 3:12 pm]

sorry baby, working right now, can it wait?

His stomach drops when you just call again in response. He doesn’t want to alarm any of the members or the fans when he doesn’t know what’s going on, but he has a bad feeling about this. He once again flashes his phone to Chan briefly and leans in close.

“I want to take this, I don’t know why she’s calling, but something doesn’t seem right.”

Chan bites his lip, obviously torn for a second, before he seems to make up his mind.

“We’ve been live for almost 20 minutes, give me one second and we’ll end it so that you can talk to her, yeah?” Chan puts a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder and squeezes it tightly for a moment before clapping his hands together, effectively ending the conversation that the rest of the members were having.

Seungmin makes himself smile as they all say goodbye, but it's obvious that it's forced.

Even though the live ended as quickly as possible, Seungmin still has 2 new missed calls by the time he’s found himself an empty room to use.

"Hello?"

"Uhm hello, is this Min?" a man asks hesitantly. His voice is unfamiliar and it scares Seungmin. The only thing that brings a little bit of comfort is knowing that you’re careful to never call Seungmin by his full name when talking about him with friends or coworkers, you even have his contact information set as a nickname.

"Who is this?" he asks instead. “Where’s Y/n?”

"My name is Hyunwoo, I work with Y/n-ssi. I’m very sorry for interrupting you, but Y/n-ssi said that you were one of her emergency contacts. We tried to call with another number previously, but weren’t able to reach you."

“Sorry, I generally do not answer calls from unknown numbers. Is Y/n okay?” Seungmin swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Can I- can I please speak to her?”

“She’s just not feeling well and needs to go home. She’s resting in another room, but I can get her, one moment please.” 

There’s a bit of background noise, the sound of footsteps, murmuring, then finally, your voice.

“Minnie?” you ask, sounding groggy. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I know you were working today.”

“Hey baby, it’s okay. You don't have to worry about me. You know that you’re more important than work to me right? I’m glad you got them to call me. How are you doing?”

“I'm tired. I'm okay, just, I was feeling light-headed and have a headache so I can't work. Hyunwoo said he thinks I have a fever.”

“Okay, I’m going to pick you up and bring you home then. Just continue resting until I get there. I'll see you soon.”

Seungmin doesn’t know what he’d do without the other members. As soon as he finishes explaining the situation to them, they’re already calling a car and working out schedules so that there aren’t any problems.

—

Hyunwoo eyes Seungmin carefully when they first meet, likely due to the face mask and hat he's wearing. When Seungmin removes the mask and shakes Hyunwoo’s hand, he's relieved when he doesn't appear to recognise him. It's not exactly a surprise, men are generally less likely to follow k-pop groups and Seungmin hardly looks like an idol when he's barefaced and in the jeans and t-shirt that he wore for the live.

“Thank you for calling me, Hyunwoo-ssi,” Seungmin says. “Sorry I didn’t pick up at first.”

“It’s okay, Min-ssi. Y/n-ssi mentioned that your work might make you difficult to contact.” Seungmin appreciates that Hyunwoo doesn’t make any attempt to pry further.

“And thank you for taking care of Y/n.”

“It’s not a problem. Y/n-ssi is a pleasure to work with and we all want her to get better as quickly as possible. Come with me, I’ll bring you to her.”

You’re lying in a small meeting room that has all the lights off and blinds drawn. The table and chairs have all been shifted to the side to fit a yoga mat that has been laid out. You squint up at Seungmin from under a mis-match of jackets with your head resting on a pillow that matches the couches that were in the reception area of your office.

“Minnie?” Your voice is soft and a little bit confused.

“Yes, it’s me, Y/n. How’re you feeling?”

Seungmin rushes to your side, crouching on the carpet so that he can cup your cheek. Your skin is flushed and hot to the touch. You reach out a hand and he clasps it tightly with his free hand.

“Mm, I wanna go home.”

“Let’s go home then.”

The company car is still parked outside of your office building, close enough that you insist on walking yourself. Seungmin tries not to hover, but he makes sure to keep his arm looped around your waist so that you don’t stumble. The drive back to your place is fairly short, but when Seungmin glances over you’re looking unwell. Maybe it’s just the dim lighting from the backseat, but you look paler than usual and your eyes are closed.

“You feeling okay?” Seungmin asks, squeezing your hand.

“A bit nauseous,” you murmur.

“We’re almost there, just take a few deep breaths through your nose for me.”

Even though it's only a few minutes before they pull onto the street that you live on, it feels like forever. Seungmmin tries to keep you preoccupied by rubbing circles into your palm. Instead of trying to help you out of the car and into your apartment, Seungmin thanks the company driver and opts to just carry you all the way in. 

He helps to change you out of your work clothes and tucks you into your bed. You link your fingers together and protest when Seungmin attempts to leave your side.

“I promise I'll be back in a second, I just want to get some things to help you feel better, okay?” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You agree, but reluctantly.

Seungmin tries to stay quiet as he rummages around your apartment, gathering some medicine, a thermometer, a glass of water, and some crackers. Next he dampens a face cloth and brings everything to your bedside table, folding up the cloth and laying it across your forehead. 

He supports you in sitting up slightly to take your temperature, brushing his fingers through your hair as you wait for enough time to pass. You lean into his touch slightly, humming in pleasure when Seungmin switches to giving you a light head massage. When the thermometer beeps, it confirms what Hyunwoo suspected, you have a low grade fever.

“You have a bit of a fever,” Seungmin tells you, keeping his voice low. “Do you feel up to having some water and medicine? It'll help you feel better, I think.”

“Okay,” you say, taking the pills that Seungmin hands you and swallowing them with a bit of water.

“Do you want to rest some more now? I want you to stay hydrated so I can make broth for you or get juice.”

“Do you have another schedule? You don't have to stay and take care of me.”

“I don't have to, I want to. And what did I say earlier? Don't worry about me. I'm not missing anything important.”

“So you are missing something,” you insist, your stubbornness making itself known. Seungmin can't help but find it endearing, especially the way that your bottom lip juts out to form a pout.

“Just vocal lessons. I already know how to sing, so it’s fine. Innie had his scheduled for tomorrow, the two of us are going to swap.”

“Oh,” you say, apparently satisfied by that.

“See, nothing to worry about. Now, what did you want? Broth or juice?”

“Broth,” you decide. “But that means you'll have to leave again. I don't want to be alone.”

Seungmin hesitates for a moment before reaching for something resting on the side of your bed.

“You won't be alone, Daengmo will keep you company, okay?”

Seungmin had gifted the stuffed dog to you the first time he had gone abroad after the two of you had started dating, even though it was only to Japan. You had insisted that he keep it at first, knowing how fond he was of the toy, but he had convinced you that it would prevent you from missing him whenever he was away.

“M'kay,” you say sleepily, wrapping your arms around Daengmo.

“You can close your eyes while I'm gone and I'll be back before you know it.”

“I'm not tired,” you say, although even in the dim lighting Seungmin can see that your eyes are starting to droop. “I'm going to stay awake until you come back.”

“Whatever you say,” Seungmin replies.

He leaves your room, closing the door behind him quietly, and heads towards the kitchen.

Seungmin prepares a couple of pots to make you soup. The first he prepares with some ingredients to make a simpler version of a ginseng chicken soup. He knows it'll take a while to cook though, so he adds water, powdered chicken broth, and ginger to the second. Within a few minutes, the clear broth is ready to serve.

Seungmin scoops a portion of it into a mug and slips an ice cube in so that you won't burn your mouth trying to drink it. He makes his way back to your room as quickly as he can, but careful to avoid the liquid sloshing over the sides.

When he eases the door open, he's greeted with the side of you with your eyes closed, clutching Daengmo tightly. Your breaths are deep and even, although you stir slightly when he sets the mug down on your nightstand.

“I'm here now," he reassures you quietly. “You just keep resting.”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you say in a small voice.

“Of course, I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[cod-dump]

The Guy to Know

pricenik

(also on ao3, word count 15509)

_____

John didn't always thinks things through, he was quick to let his impulses win. His captain said he was a handful, though John found joy in that, making the old man run in circles. He was a pain the ass but he was, undoubtfully, good at what he does. He had a bite to him that helped him survive. That's why he was on Captain MacMillan's team, why he was SAS.

Yes, he would consider himself hotheaded, running in head first without much forethought. It was something his captain would get onto him for, something his teammates rolled their eyes at because ‘That’s just like you’. 

He meets someone promising glory at the end of what should be a brief trip out of country? He can't refuse, but maybe he should've thought about it a little longer, he didn't know this woman. But, he was impulsive. That was John Price's specialty.

“I don’t like going in bare, Kate.” 

He knew Kate for a few months now. She was CIA, young and ambitious. Was sniffing around Liverpool for a week before she sat next to him during a football game. She knew him and John wasn’t fond of her knowing so much about him when he didn’t know an equal amount about her. 

He didn’t trust her but then she brought up his captain by name and he relaxed. Now he was starting to think he jumped into this strange friendship too quickly. He wasn’t sure how she convinced him to fly into Russia, no weapons, fake passports and ID’s, disguised as a couple on vacation. He knew Mac would probably be disappointed he got himself into this situation so quickly after he went on leave. 

“It’s a hassle to smuggle gear in, so we’re picking some up there.” 

“Picking some up? Going shopping?” 

Kate ignored his sarcastic tone, “I know a guy.” 

He scoffed, wondering how well she actually knew him. 

She rented a car and drove them from the airport and out of the city. He could die out here, like an idiot. Mac wouldn’t even know, he’ll come back from leave wondering where his idiot sergeant ran off to. 

They got to a small, small town and stopped by an auto shop. It was busy, full of men yelling in Russian. Quite a few of them had visible tattoos, a lot of them were smoking, and all of them eyed them like meat when they walked in. Kate wasn’t fazed, asking for a man named Nikolai. Those were the magic words because once that name was spoken, the door to the office in the back opened. 

John Price was a bold man. He argues with superiors like it was his job, his opinion was always known. Yet he clammed up the moment he saw the mountain of a man that was Nikolai. Kate told him she knew a guy but this wasn’t who he was expecting. 

Big, recently shaved head and face. He had a fresh, red scar on his shoulder that peaked from his collar. He was cautious yet walked like he couldn’t care less about where he was or who he was with. Kate whispered something to him, something in Russian that John couldn’t translate. He figured it was a passcode or something because the man visibly relaxed even more, grinning. 

“This your guy?” 

John swallowed, Kate eying him when he shifted on his feet. 

“Nikolai. This is the sergeant I was telling you about. John Price.” 

Nikolai stared at him, stared like he was reading his very soul. John felt like a child who knew they were seconds away from being scolded. But Nikolai didn’t scold or say anything that he was expecting. ‘I’m not impressed’ , ‘This is what I have to work with?’, ‘Don’t get in my way’ -- Nothing of the sort. He just nodded, as if satisfied, before he whistled a particular tune. 

Suddenly they were surrounded and John was ready to go on the defensive. But Kate grabbed his arm. 

“Don’t.” 

Two men approached Nikolai, carrying a trunk. They sat it at his feet and Nikolai took out a key that had been hidden in his shirt, hanging from what John had previously presumed to be a simple gold chain. Inside the trunk was weapons, ammo, a bag, and a couple body armor vests. 

“Bag has the intel you need to get in.” 

John blinked, keeping close to Kate as she moved to fetch the items from the trunk. 

“How much is she paying you?” 

Nikolai eyed him and Kate sighed, throwing a vest into his arms as an attempt to change the subject. But Nikolai was interested, smirking as he turned his body to face John. 

“Honestly? She’s not paying the full amount I would be asking. But! I like her.” 

John stares at Kate who honestly looks offended, “I will leave you here in the streets if you say anything.” 

Kate glares and John shuts up, Nikolai laughing gleefully. John shivering at the sound. Deep into enemy territory, dragged into a job by a woman he honestly didn’t know that well convinced him to help her with, and they’re being helped by a guy who’s doing it because he likes Kate. He was smelling disaster ahead of them. He didn’t trust this man, didn’t know what he had in on this and didn’t know much about him other than ‘Chimera’. 

A callsign? Organization? He saw nothing in the auto shop that could give him any clues and Kate wasn’t giving him much to go on besides ‘trust me’. 

“Pick up your gun, Price. We have a job to do.” 

John grabbed the weapon from the trunk, making eye contact with Nikolai. John turned away to focus on Kate and this job he got roped into, choosing to ignore the intense staring that Nikolai was directing solely on him. He was getting out of this country as soon as possible if Kate doesn’t get him killed. 

She had gotten them this far, so he had to trust that she would get them to the end. 

Kate didn’t just get gear from Nikolai, she had a vehicle that had more supplies waiting behind the auto shop. She had originally told him she had this planned for a while and that she just needed some muscle to help make things happen and he was honestly impressed. 

“We’re heading into enemy territory, now, John.” 

“Oh, we’re not in it now?” 

Kate glared at him while John smirked. She was fighting a smile, he could tell. If she gets them killed at least he managed to annoy her.

___

He honestly hadn’t expected that the Russian arms dealer would come in at the last possible moment to practically save the day. They were under heavy fire and John had lost his helmet ages ago. He was sure this was it, his last moments, until an armored van busted through a brick wall. 

The majority of their ops were crushed and the rest was quickly taken care of. And Nikolai, that bastard, opened a door with a grin and a cigarette between his lips. John was honestly frozen in place as Kate quickly ran over and jumped into the van, making sure to secure her intel before she yelled at John to get his ass in the van. 

He had to run and dive in the door that Nikolai had wide open as more ops showed up to the scene. He was clinging to the seat as he laid on the man’s lap, the van’s driver taking off the moment Nikolai grabbed his vest to secure him. John’s heart was pounding as he heard gun fire, Kate laying in the backseat as bullets nail the sides of the van. 

The driver sped along the tiny dirt road, Nikolai’s men shooting out the windows at their pursuers. John managed to get crawled into the seat between Nikolai and the driver, sitting up with a huff. Nikolai was grinning as he grabbed a gun from the glovebox, turning to John as he tried to steel himself. 

“We have ten minutes to get them off our tail so we can disappear smoothly, which is greatly preferred. Think you can manage that, sergeant?” 

John scoffed, grabbing the gun, “I’ll do it in five.” 

With that, he grabbed Nikolai’s cigarette and put it between his teeth, climbing into the backseat with Kate. She had a rifle loaded, ready to stick out the window. 

“Hey, need you to get that drive out of here or all of this was for nothing.” 

“I’m not helpless, John.” 

He uses that opportunity to trade guns, giving her the handheld as he took the rifle, “Didn’t say you were.” 

John climbs into the very back with Nikolai’s men. He was always a good shot and he was hoping that wouldn’t fail him now. 

The language barrier wasn’t enough to keep John from being able to communicate to one of the men of his plan. Maybe he had a vague understanding of English, enough to know to aim for the tires as soon as John swung one of the back doors open. 

“John!” 

Kate didn’t like the plan of him making the inside of the van open and vulnerable.  

“Whatever you’re doing make it quick!” 

John shot at the tires as Kate yelled at him, growling when it wasn’t slowing down their pursuers. He ducked when one of Nikolai’s men grabbed him and shoved him to the floor, roughly shoving a metal crate in front of them for cover. Then, John noticed something in the corner of the van, stuck in a vest. 

Jackpot.

“Grenade going out!” 

Pin out and a well place throw, the grenade launched onto the road and under the front vehicle -- 

BOOM! 

John watched the front vehicle launch into the air, flipping and crashing into the vehicle immediately behind it. He watched as the vehicles ram into one another while others swerved, running off the road and some ramming into trees. John laughed as did the men around him. Two grabbed the back doors and shut them, John slumping against the back set where Kate laid. 

“What’s the time?” 

Kate snorted, “4:55, bastard.” 

He heard Nikolai laugh out and John took that as his success.  

___

The safe house was deep in an old town, half of the buildings were run down and there were very few residents. John wondered if they were even civilians and not more of Nikolai's people. He seemed to have them everywhere. He had resources, a lot of them. John wondered where he had managed to get it all.

”Nikolai isn’t actually your name, is it?”

The man hummed, in disagreement or agreement? John wasn’t exactly sure. John took it as agreement.

”What is your real name?”

”Fae can’t just give their real name out like that, sergeant.”

John blinks and Nikolai snickers to himself. Oh, the man has jokes.

”If you must have a surname, Nikolai Chimera would do just fine.”

”Yea, I’m not doing that.”

Nikolai seemed to have a permanent, smug look on his face. One of near constant amusement.

“I have to know-” 

Nikolai was quick to interrupt with a smirk, “Have to? You seem to be alive and well without knowing.” 

John glared with no heat, “As I was saying...” 

He paused for a moment, waiting for another interruption but Nikolai said nothing, smiling as he sat there silently. John huffed, looking away to hide the smile attempting to take hold. 

“How’d you meet Kate?” 

“Ah, Kate? How did you meet her?” 

“She crawled into the seat behind me while I was watching a home game. Football, but she wasn’t there for sports. Knew my captain by name and reputation, wanted to see if I was willing to work with her when he wasn’t.” 

Nikolai hummed, “Similar story. She found me... enjoying a sport of my own. Brought up a sensitive name and with the promise of helping me and my ambitions. She’s kept her word so far so I’ll keep mine.” 

John wasn’t satisfied, Nikolai’s answer being far too vague. Maybe John was too open, too easy to read. Kate read him far too easily despite their brief relationship, Nikolai was either as sharp as her or John needed to learn to shut his trap. Mac always kept saying he liked to talk a bit too much, liked to be noisy. 

“Kate only knows my business because she dug deep. Want it from me then you’ll have to do the same or buy me dinner.” 

John felt his ears go hot, that had to be a joke. Nikolai has been full of them with a healthy dose of sarcasm. But he didn’t hear any sarcasm and it made him restless, the need to move making him stand quickly. He cleared his throat and stepped away, keeping his back to Nikolai. The Russian snickered, so it was a joke. He got the reaction he wanted and John bit his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that would reveal his embarrassment. 

He could hear Nikolai standing, moving past him to grab something. He didn't have to brush shoulders but chose to. John had to restrain a shudder as goosebumps lit up his shoulder and arm.

"One of mine is bringing food. Fresh and hot."

"Food?" John wanted to kick himself for the crack in his voice, clearing his throat as soon as he heard it.

“Да, Kate picked.” 

John nodded, unable to look at Nikolai as the man moved around the room calmly. He was unbothered, even seemed quite pleased with himself. 

"John-"

As soon as John heard Kate's voice he quickly left the room. He heard nothing from Nikolai about his obvious retreat. Kate was sitting in a plush chair that didn't fit the surrounding room. Sitting cross legged with a pad of paper on her lap, she was deciphering something, maybe a code from a contact, he didn't bother asking or taking a closer look as he sat on the couch adjacent from her.

"You came in here quickly..."

"You need- You called so-"

Kate eyed him before she bit her lip to stop a laugh. His face felt like it was on fire and Kate was very happy about it.

"Thought I was picking something up about you."

Price glared, "I'm tired, I'm hungry, this place is cold, and I'll have to have a good long chat with Mac when this shit is over."

Kate hummed, still smirking. He turned from her, not finding her teasing easily digestible with Nikolai's comment from a mere few minutes ago. 

"I'll come back to that on a later date."

John grunts and decides to look back at her, "What's that?"

"Crossword."

John blinked and leaned over before he groaned. He flopped over the length of the sofa, exhausted. Kate snorted as she took her time reading over her puzzle while relaxed, unlike him.

"MacMillan has high praise for you, didn't expect you to be... this when I met you at that game in Liverpool."

"First off; you stalked and cornered me while I was enjoying an excellent hot dog with some chips. Secondly; Wait until I get my harmonica then you'll see exactly who that Scottish cunt has been dealing with."

Kate let's out a laugh, "God, I thought that was a joke."

"I love a good tune and this fucking place hasn't had shit."

"Wow-"

John was almost completely fused with the sofa, allowing himself to close his eyes. He could hear Kate giggling and he found himself finally relaxing. He was still on foreign turf, starving, a slight chill that was becoming irritating, and he was desperate for at least ten minutes of shut eye.

John opens his eyes when he hears what is now the very familiar sound of Nikolai's boots, walking into the room. John turned his head when he noticed the man standing behind the back of the couch, he didn't want to risk making eye contact. Kate saw this and grinned. He was giving her fuel and he had only himself to blame.

"Food has arrived."

John focuses on Kate, trying to keep his sanity in check, "What you order?"

"Pizza."

"Kate..."

"With olives."

"Kate-"

Nikolai chuckles, "There's more than one kind."

"Thank you."

John sat up, he could feel that Nik was standing behind him and it just sent a chill down his spine. Kate unfolded her legs, setting her pad of paper on the arm before she stood.

"I'm eating a whole pie. The rest of you have to share."

John snorts, "You can keep it. It's already been tainted."

"I'm putting olives in your birthday cake."

John gags, "And that's why you're not invited."

Kate walks past, grinning. There was a moment of silence before Nikolai spoke, "You don't like olives?"

It was a simple comment, John looking over his shoulder at the man, "I don't hate them but I could live happily without them."

Nikolai stared at him and John had to fight to not look away. Finally, he steps away back into the other room.

"Noted."

John blinked before the smell of pizza coaxed him into standing and joining the others.

___

John slept easier than expected. He got out with bruises and a sore ankle and honestly that's the best he's ever left with. Kate had her intel and now they were prepping to head back to the UK, there Kate would get a ride back home to the States and John would have a little meeting with Captain MacMillan. He wasn't looking forward to it.

"Maybe if I walk in speaking Russian, he'll be so shocked that he'll be nice."

Kate rolls his eyes, "With what we gained he'll have no choice but to be nice. Intel on the Russian Ultranationalists, plus a new friend... if you choose not to leave that in Russia."

John bristled, Kate watching him. 

"The fuck are you on?"

Kate sighs, "Are you that dense?"

John glares and Kate scoffs, looking away. John wasn't sure what she was on, not fully. He had a feeling he knew but he wasn't willing to speak it into existence. So far the obvious wasn't stated and John could live his life without it. Though Kate didn't seem willing to leave it be.

"I know enough on Nikolai to know he won't be offended. He's a pretty open-minded man."

John stands and Kate tenses for a second. He says nothing, again not wanting it to be said but it was heading there. Kate remained where she sat, keeping her composure. He felt his heart pound, head swimming as he stared at her. This topic was never a easy one to have, especially not with someone he had know for only little over a month. Was it bait? Was she trying to get him to admit something that he won't be able to take back?

”He won’t take offense if he were to learn you had a cr-“

"We're not close enough to have any discussions like that. Clear?"

Kate looks him up and down, a quick thought cross her mind before she nods, "Crystal."

___

"You're goin' off on your own now, huh?"

John was around the same height as the captain, but the man had bulk over him. He was intimidating, especially when annoyed or, god forbid, angry. John took a lot from him, mimicking a lot of things that made Captain MacMillan the cunt he was.

"With the example you set?"

The man lets out a short laugh, not showing much amusement in his expression. John flicks his eyes away, trying to look anywhere but his captain. The man just stared, like he was trying to set him on fire.

"I was working with the CIA, like I told you. It wasn't like I was fucking around for my own amusement."

"Hm... CIA? Don't remember ever giving you clearance..."

"She approached me."

Mac huffs, "Did she?"

This wasn't getting him anywhere so John tried to shift the subject, "I have a contact."

It worked because Mac leaned over his desk, "A contact?"

"Russian arms dealer. His name's Nikolai, runs an outfit called Chimera."

The face Mac made showed that John had an in back to his good side.

"Chimera? They've been opposing the ultranationalists. Intercepting convoys and taking that cargo for themselves. They sell it to clients, too," John hums, trying to keep his composure, "You have contact with that Nikolai?"

John nodded and Mac laughed, "God, I was gone for a month-"

”I can get shit done without your constant hovering, old man.”

Mac snorts, “Got a way to contact him?”

John spoke without thinking, “Yes.”

”Oh? Well, I’d like to have a word with him, seeing as he likes to fuck with the people who make my job literal hell.”

John nods and Mac goes to speak but John interrupts with raising his hand, standing as he does.

”… Jonathan, do you actually-?”

”Yes.”

Mac just watched in confusion as John backed out of the room. Maybe he watched out of amusement, wanting to see how deep of a hole John could dig himself. John didn't look back, trying not to run down the hall. Sikes passed him, stopping when he didn't say a word to him.

"Where are you running off to?"

John doesn't reply and disappears around the corner. He hopes that Mac won't say anything, save him the embarrassment, but he wasn't that nice. John would prefer to be off base by then. Maybe running off again wasn't the smartest thing but while Mac tended to be an ass, he had a soft spot for him, and John planned to take full advantage of that.

If the old man wants to meet Nikolai, then John is going to get him that meeting. He just... needs to make a phone call and apologize to Kate. They didn't leave on a good note and John hasn't stopped thinking about it. She didn't come off as that kind of person, someone who would hold personal information like that over her teammates, but she's CIA and frankly, John isn't sure about her.

Still, he gets to a payphone and dials the number Kate left him with despite the sourness in the air.

"Yes, I would like to speak to an Agent Kate Laswell... Sergeant John Price, SAS."

Those few minutes when he was on hold was excruciatingly long. He counted two and a half but it felt like thirty. The line clicked and he heard Kate take a breath before speaking.

"John?"

"Hey, Kate! Uh... how are you?"

He wanted to bash his head against the wall but he strained himself, didn't need to add another quirk to the growing list.

"I'm well... How'd things go with the cap? Is he mad? I have that intel already submitted, I can have someone give him a call and send him a record to get him off your ass if needed."

She sounded genuine in her offer and it made John feel more like shit.

"You could just send a record in the mail... Hey, okay, I was an ass last time we spoke and I feel like shit for it. Can I buy you a drink as an apology?"

Kate was quiet for a few seconds and John held his breath the entire time, "Yea... a drink would be nice. Not as a date, though... right?"

"What? Of course not! You're too mean."

She laughs and John's heart didn't ache so much with guilt.

___

"Okay okay- Wait, you don't get Nikolai's contact info. For whatever weird reason you have, and then you tell your captain you do... then you run off after he says he wants to meet him?"

John sighs, taking a swig of his beer. Meeting in a pub felt appropriate. They were in Manchester since John didn't want to go back to Liverpool to have a drink with a foreign woman in his home town. He didn't want to hear anything from his family about anything he had going on in his life, work related or not... not that they would know it was work related.

"I am... an impulsive individual."

"Wow, big words there."

John glares and Laswell sips her whisky with a smirk. He did like her, she wasn't afraid to say her mind but also not too much. People were either too nice or too blunt, not enough had the right amount of either.

"Look, maybe I was nervous about being able to contact Mr. Chimera whenever."

"Well, Mr. Chimera doesn't just give out info like that, John. He trusted you to have it."

John nods, staring at the chips he ordered, now a bit cold and hard. He still grabs one and takes a bite, glaring at the tray. He felt like a fool, letting old wounds hurt the way they did.

"I really am sorry for how I acted."

"I was pushing it. You were right, we don't know each other well enough to have personal conversations like that."

"I didn't exactly have a emotionally safe upbringing. That has never been a safe topic, Kate."

"I understand that. I really do."

They drank in silence, John munching on his cold chips. Kate finished her glass, sighing for a moment at the last drop. The silence was a bit awkward but therapeutic in a way, there was an understanding there that was a bit overwhelming but it was needed. John did want to get to know Kate, trust her enough to have a conversation like that. A conversation he's never dared to have with anyone.

"So... you want Nikolai's contact info."

"For my capt'n, really."

"Sure... Look, as far as he knows, you rejected his info. It will stir things up if an unknown individual, or someone claiming to be someone he worked with, contacting him about wanting to meet up."

"Who will trust that?"

"Exactly. So, you're going to have to go to Russia with me and you're going to serenade that man into getting him to help you out."

John snorts, "What, want me to bring a guitar?"

"Learn some Russian, too, it'll convince him to be nice after that rejection."

John snorts, face warm but he couldn't tell if it was from the beer or the implications of their conversation. It easily could sound like they were having a very different conversation. It also made John tense, someone could overhear and make that mistake. He wasn't willing to get into another fight over that.

"Let's get some air."

"Alright, I'll call a taxi to meet us. Does your captain even know where you went?"

"No."

"You really need to tell that man where you're going."

"He'll live. It's not like he's my father."

"No, he's only the man who got you a job, put a roof over your head and food on your table."

"Fine, I'll send him a postcard when we get to St. Petersburg."

Kate snorts before she stands to go make a call. John finishes he beer before he gets up, anxiety tightening his chest, not giving him a moment's rest from the guilt he had before.

___

"They moved shop."

"Of course, they play a dangerous game. Can't stay idle."

John still felt exposed even though they weren't here to steal intel. He was nervous and the chill in the air wasn't helping him keep his composure. They had gotten a hotel room, Kate leaving to drop a letter off. She was informed the first time where Chimera would be, this time they had to wait for Chimera to find them.

He was sitting on one of the beds, tapping his foot. He nabbed a postcard from the hotel's gift shop, deciding to writing a smart remark on it for Mac. He snickered to himself, he could only imagine the look on the man's face when he received this in the mail. Well, there was a chance it'll get to him before John came back. He hoped that was the case.

Kate reentered the room, huffing as she closed the door.

"Winter's coming, you can feel it."

"Lovely."

Kate takes off her jacket and throws it on a chair by the kitchenette before she flops onto the other bed.

"So, thought about what you're going to say to him?" John tenses and Kate rolls her eyes, "No plan? Again?"

"I'm thinking."

"Barely."

John glares and Kate gives him a quick, over exaggerated smile before she buries her face in a pillow. He huffs before laying the postcard on the night stand, laying back onto the bed to stare at the ceiling. What should he say to Nikolai? He didn't think about the benefit of having a man like him as a friend? That his captain wanted his contact? That John lied about already having Nikolai as a contact?

That he panicked when Nikolai offered to keep in touch and backed out without thinking? He was embarrassed, which was a feeling he was becoming rather accustomed to by this point. He was going to feel it even more when - if he got to meet Nikolai again. Looking him in the eye to apologize? He could imagine a thousand ways it could blowup in his face. He could even risk Kate's relationship with the man.

He had to think of a damn good apology or he'll make a fool out of both of them.

"Get some shut eye, John, I can hear you thinking from here. Nikolai's men check drop off points every few hours, we have time for a nap."

John nods even though he knows Kate wasn't looking. He kicks off his shoes and climbs further onto the bed, a nap didn't sound too bad. Maybe his head will be clearer afterwards, allowing him to think of what he was going to say if Nikolai allows them to meet. John somehow allows himself to drift off, hoping for a little rest.

There was a knock that caused John to wake, jumping up to an alert position. Kate was up just as fast, both of them sharing a look before Kate got off her bed and eased over to the door. She peered out of the peephole and after she knocks on the door in a pattern, another pattern is returned. Only when she relaxes does John, getting off his bed to out his shoes back on.

Kate opened the door and a man that John didn't recognize walked in, he was definitely Chimera.

"Agent, good to see you. Sergeant."

He spoke English well enough that John was sure he would've remembered interacting with him before. The man looked at John and back to Kate.

"He's surprised, I will not lie."

"Is he willing to meet?"

"He is. Neutral ground, I will take you."

John licked his lips, "Where is this neutral ground?"

The man looked at him and gave a small smile, "You'll see."

___

John felt underdressed, that wasn't an understatement. Kate felt it, too, judging by the way she adjusted her top. The restaurant was fancy, the atmosphere stirred some memories as they walked through. Their guide, Kamarov, didn't bother to warn them about the dress code. He himself wore a black dress shirt and pants, sleeves rolled up to show he tattooed forearms. John wondered if them not being told was on purpose, either by Nikolai's orders or Kamarov's own amusement.

They climbed some stairs to the second story, overseeing the main dining room. A host stopped them, Kamarov muttering a few words and then they were allowed into what was a private dining area. John saw Nikolai's men around the area, some people that didn't look like his people, maybe clientele or his own contacts. Nikolai, himself, was in a booth. John felt his mouth go dry with how the man was dressed and he was dressed very nicely.

He didn't look like a lowlife thug now, more like a proper business man. A man who's business was weapons. 

He noticed them and smiled, waving his hand to the booth in front of him.

"Kate, please sit. And you-" John stiffened, Nikolai's voice lowering, "-you can sit next to me."

Kate fought to keep her face neutral, sliding into the booth in front Nikolai. John stood there for a second, Nikolai sliding over to allow him space, arm stretched over the seat's back. Kate was biting her cheek, staring at him. Any plan John had put together on the drive over practically fizzled into nothing as he sat beside Nikolai, trying to make himself as small as possible. He could feel the man's body heat and it lit goosebumps up his side. If he made it out of this alive Kate was never going to let this go.

"So, sergeant, I was informed we're here because of you. That you wanted to meet."

The deep rumble of Nikolai's voice was hitting every nerve John had, he couldn't think with this close proximity.

"Yes, he wanted to talk."

Nikolai looked to Kate fondly, "Go order yourself something nice to eat. Or drink! Bar over there has practically anything you can think of. All of it on the house."

John looked at Kate pleadingly but she showed no mercy. John watched her leave eagerly, all but skipping to the bar. He couldn't blame her, free food and liquor? He, too, would be off to take advantage of that if he didn't feel magnetized where he sat. He blamed it on Nikolai's... everything.

"Ah, now. You wanted to talk, да?"

John nodded and Nikolai chuckled, "I don't bite. Ha, I almost don't recognize you. The man who stole my cigarette and threw a grenade onto a busy road to save our tail. Busted into a private government facility and stole valuable data."

He took his time taking out a cigarette as he spoke, John watching out of the corner of his eye. He brought it to his lips and John looked away. He looked around, at the decor, the chandelier of crystal that hung over the main dining room. The food and drinks here were undeniable expensive.

"When you asked me to buy you dinner, you could've picked a cheaper place. My pockets aren't exactly deep."

Nikolai laughed John flushing. He leaned over, smoke on his breath and his cologne, mixing into a scent that John couldn't stop breathing in.

"You're right, when you're buying you're picking. Tonight is my treat."

John wanted to die. The silence was sickening and John knew he had to fess up why he was there.

"I may have rejected your offer too quickly..."

Nikolai looks at him, expression unreadable.

"You wanted my contact?"

"Yes."

"Yet you said no."

He panicked, that was the truth. And he couldn't even think of the man's possible reaction to telling him that. He needed to find a way to regain control, he was making a fool of himself at the moment. John looked to the cigarette trapped between the man's lips and, without further thinking, he plucked it away and placed it between his own.

Nikolai's eyes widened and John felt control weigh in his favor.

"I changed my mind. Think I have use for you."

Nikolai stared at him hard as John took a long drag, he could practically see the gears turning. For once, the man was speechless. And the best part? The man turned away to clear his throat, hiding his face long enough for John to no longer feel out of his element. It wasn't the setting, it was Nikolai. The man made him feel out of the loop, and now he finally felt like he had something over him.

Nikolai finally turns back to him, snickering, "Oh, I can tell that we're going to be good friends."

"If you stay useful, we can be the best of friends."

Nikolai grinned wider and John knew he had it. Victory. Kate won't believe him.

"You said food and drinks were on the house? Well, excuse me while I go eat myself into a coma."

John took the cigarette from his lips and handed it back to Nikolai, the man numbly taking it while watching him as if he was almost hypnotized. John quickly left the booth before he ruined anything and calmly made his way to Kate. She, surprisingly, hadn't been watching them the entire time. Instead she was nursing what had to be a glass a wine worth more than John's flat with a bowl of pasta.

"John, I'm taking a box home."

"Do they even have boxes here?"

"I'll take a pot then."

John snorts and sits next to her.

___

"You're taking him to meet your captain now, right? Already? Wow, that's a big step."

John turned to Kate who immediately busted into laughter, clearly she thought she was hilarious. John glares, pointing his fork at her to show that he was serious.

"I need to rope him in while he's still impressed by me. Plus, I need to cool Mac's engine before he bursts into flames."

"Right, because you lied about-"

"I have it," John hissed, "And now I'm going to use it."

Kate hummed, sipping her fancy wine. She was on her second bowl of pasta and John was thinking of getting another order of lamb. The food, admittedly, was delicious and the portions weren't outrageous, but they certainly weren't enough for the two of them.

"Ya know he's been staring at you, right?"

John didn't need to look to believe her, he could feel Nikolai's gaze upon his back. He had half expected the man to eventually join them but he had remained in his booth, now with his man Kamarov sitting across from them. He was trying to talk business but he wasn't looking like he was, he was watching so intently. John almost wanted to turn around and look right at him, wondering if Nikolai would try to look like he wasn't staring.

Kate turned in her seat, appearing as though she was going to look behind her. And just like that Nikolai looked away. He was staring but he didn't want to be caught. Man had to know he wasn't being subtle.

"John, I think he likes you."

"He does, he told me himself."

She grins, "Really? Then why are you over here and not talking him up?"

John swallowed hard, the way she said that made him pause.

"Can't show too much interest..."

"John..."

"He's intimidating, okay?"

She snorts and John knows she had enough wine for the evening. She leans over and rests her head on his shoulder, making him decide they should wrap this up.

"It's for work, Kate. Get you a takeaway box, we need to call it a night."

Kate whines but makes no further protest, finishing her latest and last glass of wine. John stands and walks over to Nikolai, the man almost sitting up straighter as he approached. John looked to Kamarov who blinked, quietly looking to Nikolai before he dismissed himself and left the booth. John sat across from Nikolai once the man was, the two staring at each other for a moment before speaking.

"Think I need to leave this get together. Got a postcard that needs sent to the UK."

Nikolai leans forward, "Leaving so soon? And we didn't get to have much quality time."

John represses a shudder as Nikolai folds his arms over the table. He felt like Nikolai was trying to regain lead of the situation, and John felt he had to fight to keep it. He leans back against the seat, keeping eye contact with Nikolai as he did.

"Quality time? Have to earn that."

Nikolai grins, he liked John talking back, "By being useful? I can be very useful."

I want to launch into the fucking sun.

"I can give you a tip on how to do that; Meet with my captain. Make friends with him and we can have some more quality time."

Nikolai looked him up and down, he looked mad with glee.

"I'll give you my number. I'll be wherever you want me to be."

"Good, already being useful."

Nikolai offered a card and John took it. He debated on nagging for a cigarette but he didn't want to push his luck. So he left with the card, going to collect Laswell and her box of pasta before they left the private dining area.

"Ya know, John. I don't know how you still feel about me but... that looked like flirting to me."

John felt his face get hot, "You're drunk."

Kate smiled, it was gentle, "Sure."

___

Kate was supposed to head out on another flight but she chose to stick around for a week. Why? She wouldn't directly tell him, just danced around the question with partial truths. John knew she stayed to hear whatever drama was going to happen with Mac. They had purposely delayed returning to the UK, giving enough time for John's express shipped postcard to land on Mac's desk.

She acted like she had nowhere else better to be, which left John wondering if whatever mess he had gotten himself into was really that entertaining.

"I would ask how you know where I live but I'd waste my breath."

"You're always wasting your breath."

They had bonded, he will say that. He liked Kate. She was funny, smart, and seemed to know how he thought like it was her own mind. Maybe he was just being dumb and too easy to read, maybe they were a lot alike. Either way, John was starting to consider an actual friend, someone he could trust. Well, he was hoping he could trust her. It never hurt to have genuine friends in this line of work.

They had went to John's flat after they landed, John planning on giving Mac a call to give the run down of everything (and to hear feedback about the postcard), and Kate decided to join him. She met Mac once, briefly, in an attempt to scope him out, which led to her going to John. Which led to the whole situation with Nikolai. To put it simply; Everything was her fault.

"Wow, that's a lot of records. And tapes."

"I like music."

"Maybe try to like organizing, too?"

"It's organized! I know where everything is and where it goes, unlike your untrained eye."

He had a system, Mac knew it and so did the rest of his team. It was messy in appearance but it worked. When John was able to get less heat from messes he took it. Maybe with age he'll go back to keeping things clean.

John had settled on his couch. It was old, pre-owned when he got it, but it has given him the best damn naps. He flopped down on the pillow he had left there from his last nap and sighed loudly. Kate snorted before she sat on the end that he wasn't occupying, relaxing against the couch and maybe, too, experiencing the magic the old thing possessed deep within its seams.

"When are you-"

"Sh sh- No work talk. Not yet," his voice was muffled by the pillow which made Kate laugh. She agreed silently, allowing him to lay there for several minutes before he decided to move.

Time to call Mac.

"I bet he's left voicemails. He always does."

"Ah, dads. They have such delightful things to say."

John mocked her under his breath, gaining a heatless glare. He climbed off the couch with great effort before he went to his landline. He had three messages, surprisingly. Two from Mac, and one from Sikes. Mac gave him the same talk about him running off, about him playing dangerous games. God, he really did sound like his father. Well, not his actual father, Mac was more caring.

Sikes just left a message about the postcard being a work of art. That's what John was looking forward to. After thoroughly enjoying Sikes' voicemail, John dialed Mac. He called his office phone specifically, for the added flair of his audacity.

"Sergeant Jonathan Price-"

"I come bearing gifts!"

"Like the postcard?"

"Better, even though that was fantastic work on my part."

Mac chuckles, if John didn't have stubborn residency in his soft spot then he would've been dead by now. Mac shifted on the other side, John hearing someone knock and Mac telling them to give him a minute. He better deliver his gift quick.

"Mr. Chimera is willing to meet."

"Mr. Chimera? Nikolai?"

"The very same."

Mac laughs, "You left to get his contact! And you succeeded!"

"I-"

"Don't lie. I know you, lad, better than anyone."

John looks to Kate who was still on his couch, relaxed and combating jetlag, "Keep telling yourself that. Wanna meet him or not?"

"If you can get that myth into the SAS's backyard then you're getting a raise."

"Promise? I have a witness of it!"

"Don't push it."

"Fine fine- When and where? Up to you, old man."

Kate looked over, thoroughly amused. John grinned at her and she snickered.

"Meeting the parents," She said, just loud enough for him to hear. John made a famously rude gesture towards her, earning another laugh.

John felt proud. His second contact, Kate being his first. He could foresee some chaos, enjoyable chaos and grand victories. Hopefully Mac could see it, too.

___

He was watching the clock obsessively, he knew this. Nikolai had sent him a email stating when he would be arriving and at what airport. John had sent a reply confirming he got the email and that was that. Silence.

He didn't like the silence.

"A watched pot won't boil, John."

John waved Kate off at her comment, he had at least an hour before he had to leave. He wanted to meet Nikolai there. Mac had tried to get him to use their airfield but Nikolai refused. John wondered why, wondered if Nikolai had doubts of meeting an SAS captain. He was pushing off the meeting by purposely using a civilian airline.

"He could've been here by now," John muttered under his breath, "I have to drive fucking thirty minutes to the airport and then twenty to the base."

Kate snorts, "That's my Sunday drive."

John glares at her and she just smiles. The last two hours she was waiting with him, wondering. And now all the sudden she's grinning like she knows something. John glared at her for this, hoping she would reveal what she knew to him without him having to ask or beg.

For once, that worked. Or Kate wanted to talk about it judging by how she eagerly pulled the chair out from the front of his desk and sat, leaning over the desk.

"He wants some extra time with you."

John blinked, staring at her before he blurted out "No he doesn't."

She laughs, "Yes he does! Why else would he pick an airport that you have to go out of your way to go to? Why else would he only tell you and not any one else on your team?"

John stared at her before he dropped his head to the desk. He can't keep doing this, racing after his own heart. He heard Kate laugh as he laid there, felt her pat the back of his head. She found his inability to be on the same page as his emotions hilarious. 

"That bastard."

"Guess he's getting his quality time."

John sat up, "Bastard."

She snorts, "You have to keep playing his game to win, John. Can't just play for a moment then revert back to this."

She motions to him, John huffing. She was right, he had to keep playing Nikolai's game and not back out. John stares at Kate and she stops giggling, blinking when his own grin forms.

"Hey, Kate-"

"Nope! Not getting in the middle of whatever this is."

"You have been involved day one. You can't back out."

Kate groans but John could tell she was amused by it all. She was going to help him win this game, make Nikolai squirm and play harder.

"Fine! But I'm taking a personal car."

"... whose car?"

"... Know where your captain keeps his keys?"

Oh this was becoming more fun by the second. Clearly she wanted to see how far he was willing to go for this and John aimed to impress.

"Wait out front."

"Oh you're insane."

Kate turned to leave, and before she reached the door John had an wonderful idea. He dug in a door in his desk, finding exactly what he wanted within seconds.

"Wait! One more thing."

Kate turned and rolled her eyes at the sight, "John no-"

John held out the disposable camera urgently, "This is serious. I need you to take a picture of his face when he realizes that I'm not there."

"John-"

"I'm winning this game, Kate."

Kate grinned and took the camera, "Fine."

Oh he couldn't wait to get the film processed. But that would have to wait, he had car keys to steal and had to prepare to mediate a meeting between an SAS officer and an arms dealer. He was sure the captain would play nice. But Nikolai? He wasn't completely confident on that.

___

Mac was sitting across from him, staring at him with a cross of amusement, exhaustion, and a hint of nervousness. He was bouncing his knee, had been moments after they had settled in their seats. Sikes was just amused, humming as he wrote something down on his notepad. John had been checking the clock regularly, Kate should be back with Nikolai by now. He was sure she would've called if something came up, Mac's car had a phone.

"John."

John looked to Mac who was still staring at him. Has he blinked? John can't remember seeing him blink.

"Yes, sir?"

"Why's my car not in the lot?"

John blinked innocently, looking out the window behind him to the car lot, "What you mean? Didn't you park in the garage today?"

"John."

"Heard it was gonna rain."

"Jonathan-"

"Know you're touchy about that car and the rain."

Sikes was watching them with great joy and amusement. John knows their bickering was the highlight of his job.

Mac's face dropped with shock and anger as his precious car pulled into a spot, his spot, and Kate got out. No Nikolai, which made John anxious. He couldn't even focus on Mac getting pissed over the car, just that he didn't see Nikolai.

Did Nikolai not appreciate him not showing up to get him? Did something came up? No, Kate would've told him if as soon as there was an issue. Where was Nikolai, then?

"Sergeant, your friend's here."

John whips his head around, from window to Sikes' smirking face. The door opened and Nikolai walked in with Sergeant Banks, dressed much more casual than when he last saw him. He looked like a civilian, not an arms dealer, and John could tell Mac was thinking just that. But he couldn't get past the relief he felt when he saw Nikolai. He came, he didn't back out.

"Ah, Sergeant Price!" Nikolai greeted eagerly with a grin, that grin crushing any doubts John had remaining.

John stands as does Mac. He was trying to take in everything that was Nikolai. First impressions were big for him and Nikolai wasn't checking any boxes off just yet. But he will, John knew he would.

"Nikolai, have a good flight?"

John was aiming for generally politeness but Nikolai wasn't willing to behave, "Of course. Shame you weren't the one to get me. I was looking forward to some quality time."

The rumble in his voice made John shudder and Mac and Sikes whipped their heads around to stare at him. Oh, he definitely didn't like him not picking him up. Nikolai smiled, pleased with the reactions he had gotten, only then did he finally turn towards Mac and Sikes.

"Captain MacMillan, and Lieutenant White, is it? A pleasure."

Mac took Nikolai's hand in a firm handshake, staring into almost into his skull as he did, gripping his hand tight. Sikes was less aggressive, didn't feel the need to put Nikolai in his place with a handshake.

"Mr. Chimera, is it?"

Nikolai grins, eyes flickering to John before he nods, "Indeed. I hadn't considered working with SAS, but the sergeant left an impression."

Mac turns to John, "Did he now?"

John swallows, he couldn't read Mac's expression.

That's new.

"Well, we'll talk about the sergeant later. Business, that's what you want, да?"

Mac nodded, "Yea... let's see if you deliver."

Oh Kate was going to get an earful later as he surely was from Mac. If he survives until then. Mac and Nikolai appeared to be sizing each other up, not letting up on their need to be on top. Sikes noticed and John wondered if he would be able to keep Mac playing nice this time.

I should keep notes on what to yell at her later...

___

"All of this is your fault. All of it."

Kate stared at him, "And what exactly is my fault?"

She wanted him to say it, to admit it. But those words won't come out and John was left frustrated. He knows what he was feeling, clearly she knew, too. So why couldn't he say it? Years of conditioning from his father? Seeing the judgement he passed to those who he deemed worth less than dirt, undeserving of basic human kindness. Those years of fear of it being directed at him.

The man wasn't here, he didn't have control anymore. But his claws were still there, and John couldn't admit what he wanted to say. Thankfully, Kate was understanding. She was patient, more than what he deserved. Was it obvious what he was struggling with? How many others knew?

No one, just her. Someone would've said something by now, right? Mac would've, and Sikes... right?

He didn't have the energy for this. There wasn't any rulebook to follow, he didn't know anyone going through this or had been through it. He felt alone... no, there was Kate, he wasn't alone.

"I've been taught that feelings like this are wrong."

Kate nodded, John sitting next to her on the couch. They had commandeered a lounge for themselves when Mac and Nikolai came to an agreement, John and Sikes being asked to leave so they could talk one-on-one. John needed a moment to step away anyway, to complain to Kate, to vent. She was so patient, understanding. Why? She picked something up not long after they met.

"I know. I was, too."

John looked to her and when she met his eye everything finally clicked.

"Oh."

She smiled, gentle teasing because she knew he didn't need any harshness at the moment, "There you go, using your brain."

"I... when did you-?"

"When did I-?"

"When did you know. How did you know?"

Kate shrugs, "Think around high school. There was this girl that sat next to me in math and... she was all I ever cared about in that class. Loved talking to her, we would help each other when we were stuck."

Kate talked with an endearing smile, enjoying every memory she spoke of. It made John's heart beat faster, thinking to Nikolai as she talked. Then, she stopped smiling, a frown replacing it.

"She... didn't feel the same. I worked up the courage to tell her, thought she was safe."

She said nothing more and John leaned over, shoulder pressing against hers. She leaned against him, dwelling in that memory. Finally she shook her head and looked to him.

"I've moved on, found a place for me. It can be hard but it's freeing being honest with yourself. And it feels so good to have people around you who understand."

Maybe she was eager in the beginning, when she had noticed that about John. Wanted a friend in their field of work, someone with the same kind of stress surrounding them. Someone who understood more than work. She moved too quickly, but John was willing now. He saw her perspective now and felt so thankful she was there, someone who knew these things.

"Typically people don't judge too hard when you know how to use a gun," Kate mused and John grinned when he heard it.

"When you have a body count they tend to play nicer."

She grins back, nodding. John could feel it, this was a defining moment. Kate Laswell, a friend for life. For however long that was, John knew they would be friends. Trouble, they were trouble, and he was glad to have met her. It was her fault but he was thankful for it.

___

Kate and John sat quietly next to each other as Mac discussed the routes the ultranationalists were taking. Nikolai was sitting across from John, watching Mac from over his shoulder. John was trying to stay focused but he kept looking to Nikolai, finding himself observing the man. He had soft features, scars cutting through his hair that was slowly growing back. His eyes were dark, a deep brown that held a warmth that you had to search for or otherwise they appeared cold like black ink.

He was fit, pushing his limits. John noticed he didn't eat a lot but smoked whenever and drank more than having decent meals. John wondered what he would look like healthy, not living on cigarettes and meals from the corner store. If he allowed himself to not push himself, allowed himself to cut back and enjoy life. John had witnessed how Nikolai was always looking over his shoulder, he fidgeted quiet a bit like he was never at ease. Why did he come alone if he was uncomfortable?

Nikolai's eyes flickered to him and John forced himself to focus on Mac. He caught a small smile on Nikolai's face from the corner of his eye, it wasn't smug but soft. John focused on Mac, looked at him and his presentation only, but his mind wandered to Nikolai.

___

"This can end so badly," John muttered. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it was just pop. He was wondering how he let her talk him into this.

"You trust me, don't you?"

He was hesitant to agree but he was nodding before he even realized. 

"Mr. Chimera will be heading back to Russia tomorrow. Unless you want to wait out the season or go and endure it, now is your chance."

Tell him. Tell him everything.

Nikolai was heading back, he's done with working with Mac. He got two convoys of barely legal guns and dropped them in Mac's personal hanger. Now he was heading home, and John didn’t know when he'd be able to see him again. So Kate convinced him to talk to him about his feelings. John was thinking about swallowing them whole at the moment.

"Kate..."

"It'll be fine!"

He wasn't sure. John can't remember ever being this nervous over something before. Not when he was on a mission, bullets flying and hope scarce to find. No, this was the moment he felt so anxious that he thought he was going to be sick. They were currently waiting outside, waiting for Mac and Nikolai to walk out and leave for the airport. Kate planned to for to grab Mac's attention so John could talk to Nikolai.

He wasn't sure he could do it, if he could follow through. He couldn't imagine how Nikolai would react, how he would deal with rejection. He's flirted with girls before with little care with they reciprocated. But John cares so much right now, he wanted Nikolai to accept his affections. But Nikolai didn't come off as that type. John didn't want to ruin whatever strange friendship they had with his stupid human emotions.

And what about Mac? He would surely learn about it all if Nikolai reacted poorly. Would he, too, react poorly? Not care for John's interest in men? The thought itself made John's knees weak. He couldn't do this.

"Kate, I can't-"

She noticed the look on his face, he was feeling light-headed.

"Shit- Sit down, you look pale."

John pressed his back against the brick wall they hid behind and slid down to the ground. Kate got on the ground with him, worried. Was he panicking? Was this a panic attack? It's been so long since he had one he couldn't even recognize it. He was so terrified of rejection to the point he was struggling to breathe.

"John- Breathe with me."

"He'd hate me."

"No he wouldn't."

"How do you know? You know him as well as I do."

Kate said nothing else, just squeezed John's hand. It took him several minutes to breathe. Just resting against the wall with his eyes closed, trying to think of anything other than Nikolai.

In the end, John couldn't face Nikolai. He watched from the bushes as him and Mac left for the airport. Kate had a look on her face, guilt. Maybe she wanted John to have a different ending than her. He didn't blame her for pushing him, who could have predicted this?

"I need a drink."

"That doesn't sound bad... if you're paying."

Kate snickers, "Sure. I'll help your poor ass out."

It was easier to just not think about Nikolai, it didn't hurt as much that way.

___

"She's amazing, John. You'd murder for her cooking."

Annie, Annie, Annie - That's the name Kate couldn't stop saying. She called often, for business and personal reasons. Currently she called to talk about the receptionist who she was practically stalking at work. She's denied her crush, John tried to play nice but she was making teasing her way too easy.

"Kate, ya know I'm working, right?"

"Oh, I can call later."

"You sound like you're going to explode if you don't talk now," John muttered, eying Sikes from the corner of his eye as he wrote on the docs before him. The man already smacked him over distracting himself with a paperclip, he may kill him for a phone call if he noticed. Sikes left the room and John sighed, relaxing as he spoke more clearly, "We're on for capture or kill."

"Bringing friends in?"

"Can't say too much... just that I might have to see..."

He hadn't spoken to Nikolai for almost a year. He felt guilt for it because that's the opposite of what he wanted. John wanted to talk to him, wished he could've said something before he left for the airport, but he was a coward. That damn fear spiked up in his chest at the thought of it, so he tried to stop it all together. He tried not to bring up the man, even as Mac worked with Chimera more and more. He was shocked the old man didn't say much considering John introduced them.

Maybe he knew more than what John was giving him credit for, making a conscious decision to leave Nikolai's name out of the conversation. Despite the desire to talk about him, oh did John want to talk. Only Kate knew everything, John wanted to reach out to Mac, to trust him. But that fear was still there, the fear of harsh rejection. He felt weak in the knees every time he thought about opening up to Mac, so he didn't bother.

"I'll call later. I'll have a list."

John snorts, "You do that."

He ended the call and sighed, Sikes reentering the room. He quickly noticed John's lack of work and walked over to him.

"Didn't smack you too hard, huh?"

John grunts, "Been over this shit three separate times, LT."

"There's too many ways this can go wrong, John. We need to be ready. Though Chimera will be with us, so hopefully everything will go in our favor."

Sikes sat across from him with a groan. He was getting old, had more wrinkles around his eyes and grey in his hair than what John remembered.

"Capt'n's got this, LT."

"I hope he does."

Uncertainty, Sikes wasn't known for that.

John stretched in his seat, hanging his arm over the back of his chair, "Where's my harmonica? I think you need a tune."

Sikes glares at him and John grins, "You're lucky the cap doesn't let me throw that thing into the ocean."

"My dear Bess? How could you?"

Sikes laughs and John feels victorious. There was a moment of peaceful silence before Sikes sighs, not directly looking at John.

"Mac's gettin' old... so am I. Not sure how much of this game we got left in us."

John fidgets, "Not that old."

"Feel older than we look, John."

John didn't say anything as he watched Sikes. He didn't like this, the way the man sat there with almost an empty look in his eye. John felt... afraid. Sikes had been there since the beginning, right alongside Mac. The thought of him just retiring or worse made John's heart ache. But retirement was better than the alternatives, there wasn't many better ones than that.

"Don't have Mac's crown in mind?" John attempted to joke despite his tone not caring his words as such.

"No, I think after this I'll go home. My last hurrah."

"Well, I'll bake you a cake."

Sikes smiles slightly, "Wouldn't mind that... not one bit."

"You're basic, right? Chocolate?"

"Tuxedo."

"Oh. Not basic. Not sure if I want to break my back for you."

"Not even for my retirement party?"

"You're not retiring. Cap will drag you back kicking and screaming."

Sikes laughs, "That's how he got me in this mess to begin with!"

John smiles, Sikes wasn't actually going to leave... right? He couldn't just leave, what would Bravo Team be without him? Without their lieutenant or captain? It wasn't happening.

"You make a face when you're thinking, ya know that? That's how I know you're never using your head when it matters."

John glares and Sikes shrugs. They say nothing for a moment, nothing on pending departure or the mission ahead. It didn't feel real.

___

He knew Chimera would be joining them, he just didn't expect them to join this soon. John felt as though he had no time to prepare, stopping in his tracks as he heard voices speaking a foreign language in the hanger. He was a coward, John was in touch with himself enough to know that. He saw Chimera's logo and almost launched himself into another panic attack, diving into a supply closet in the hanger to give himself a moment to breathe.

His heart was racing as he heard Russian outside in the hanger. It was childish, hiding like this. But he's always been a child, running from his emotions rather than facing them. He would've left the closet and ran at the first opportunity if Mac didn't sniff him out. He opened the closet and stared at John with a blank expression, maybe some disapprovement in his eyes.

"John..."

"I-"

"No more excuses, I'm tired of you acting like this," Mac growled as he grabbed John's collar and practically threw him out of the closet.

John stopped himself before he hit a truck, turning to yell at Mac but the man grabbed him and started dragging him through the hanger. John wanted to disappear when several of Nikolai's men turned their heads to stare as Captain MacMillan dragged his very own Sergeant Price by the collar like he was a kitten needing to be held by the scruff. It was humiliating.

Mac pushed him into the office in the back of the hanger, not so gently closing the door behind him as he stepped inside. John tried to get a word out but Mac silenced him with a glare. John chose to sit in the nearest chair as a response, which proved to be the smart move. Mac groaned, pinching his nose before he sits on the desk, staring down at John with an exasperated expression.

"Lad, what are you doing?"

"I was just checking-"

"Not about the closet. Well, not just the closet. Jonathan, you haven't been yourself for months. Skittish, quiet. Who is this?"

Mac motioned to all of John and John huffed, "That's a first. Thought you said I could do to learn how to be quiet."

Mac stares, unamused, "This is about Nikolai."

John chokes, "Nik- No! Of course it's not! He's been great! Look at all we've managed to accomplish-"

"When's the last time you talked to him?"

John avoided looking at Mac, "Been a minute..."

"He told me he hasn't gotten a word out of you for four months. John, he's been trying to talk to you for four months."

Shame and guilt squeezed his heart, John now being able to look in Mac's direction even if he wanted to. He tried to keep Nikolai out of his mind and now he couldn't stop thinking about him. Thinking about how the man felt with he didn't answer his calls, when he went out of his way to avoid running into him. He was childish and cowardly, a pathetic combination.

"Lad, you like him."

"He's pretty cool, I mean- He's self made-"

Mac grunts, "Jonathan. You like him. I know you do."

John felt his heart drop, gripping the edge of the chair to the point his fingers ached. He couldn't look up at Mac, panic setting in as his mind started racing. Of course he knew, why wouldn't he? It was like Mac sensed his panic and got down in front of him, grabbing his knee to get his attention.

"John, there's nothing wrong with how you feel about him. I know you grew up being taught otherwise."

Mac has always been there, a driving force that kept John where he wanted to be. His father had tried everything he could to get him discharged, force him to come back. Mac got in the way, got him into the SAS and far away from his father and family's reach. John wasn't sure why he thought he could put Mac in the same light as them. He wasn't like them, didn't think like them.

John swallowed, "You know?"

"Yea, I do, lad. Knew plenty men like yourself. It doesn't affect your ability to shoot, to hold a gun, or how to run your mouth."

John laughed and Mac firmly patted his thigh before standing, John able to look at him now.

"Ya know, avoiding people isn't a good way to make friends, or for romance."

"Is this your approval?"

Mac laughs, "Approval? Tolerance. You can do better."

John grins, "Thought you liked him."

"I do. On a professional basis. I'd skin him alive and make a lamp."

Mac turns from him as John laughs, opening the office door. Chimera had returned to its normal chatter, uncaring for whatever occurred with Mac and John.

"He's flying in tonight. Has a bird, did you know that?"

"He flies?"

"Behave. I'll rough him up if he's nasty."

"Mac-"

The man doesn't stick around for John to get another word out, walking away from the office with determination. John watched a few Russians visibly step away from him as he marched past, unable to not think about Mac giving Nikolai a piece of his mind.

Nikolai... I need to make things right.

Mac was right, you can't make friends through avoidance. And friendship is where everything starts.

___

An unfamiliar bird over base is a good way to make everyone uneasy. It was a beautiful thing, Russian make, and definitely stolen. Nikolai owned it, and landed it with grace and experience. Watching him get out of the helo, more scruff than when John last saw him, made John almost lose his confidence.

He wasn't going to run away again.

John walked up, heart racing but he wasn't backing down. Nikolai looked genuinely surprised to see him, doing a double take to make sure he actually saw him approaching. He looked John up and down, blinking in surprise. He wasn't as welcoming, as relaxed. If John didn't know any better, he would think the man was nervous.

"Didn't know you knew how to fly," John said in an attempt to break the silence. Nikolai didn't immediately respond, probably wondering where John got the audacity. Well, he's always had it, as Sikes has said before.

"Of course I know how to fly. But you wouldn't know that, now would you?"

John steels himself, "Yea, I wouldn't. That's my mistake."

Nikolai stared at him in uneasy silence. John noticed some of his men approach rather cautious, one he recognized to be Kamarov. He looked between them, lingering on Nikolai like he was waiting for some kind of command of how to proceed. Nikolai just stared at John, face neutral like he was trying to get a rad on him.

Finally, he turned from John to face Kamarov, speaking to him in Russian. Kamarov nodded, John wondering what was said as the man walked away. After a second he realized that Nikolai was giving him a small moment to say something, anything that would make him think that repairing whatever they had was worthwhile.

John hadn't expected to get this far, maybe he did have a chance.

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner. My treat."

Nikolai softened, "Dinner?"

"Nothing fancy. Wouldn't get your expectations up... if you want to, that is."

Nikolai huffed, "Depends. Where would you be taking me?"

John stared, Nikolai waiting. He shuffled away, looking at his feet.

"I didn't think that far ahead."

Nikolai laughs, John feeling warmth spread throughout his chest.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"Buy me dinner."

John couldn't stop the grin, Nikolai smiling at him. He stepped away nodding, Nikolai chuckling when he bumps into the helo. Feeling his face heat up, John turned and quickly walked away, hearing Nikolai's laugh follow him.

___

"It's just a dinner. Just a dinner."

"John, you successfully asked that man out after avoiding him for months. The fact he's giving you this means it's not just dinner."

Oh, leave it to Kate to get his heart racing after he just managed to calm down.

"God... I'm fucked."

"If you're lucky."

"Kate," John hissed, hearing the woman laugh in response. At least someone was enjoying this, he was just anxious all around.

It was instinctual to call her, even hours before he was initially supposed to go out and meet Nikolai. He needed to tell someone who already knew the majority of the story. It was amazing knowing Mac supported him but the man was too eager to threaten to jump Nikolai if things didn't go well. At least Kate wasn't out right threatening him.

"A small, locally owned diner. You've been there plenty of times, the food is good and the atmosphere is great. You got this."

"Oh, you're being nice. I'm doomed."

He had get off soon to get ready, he had been watching the clock for the past ten minutes. He was supposed to pick up Nikolai, show him around town. God this felt like a date. A real date. He didn't want to fuck this up, not again. Nikolai didn't deserve that kind of disrespect. John certainly wouldn't survive it.

"I got expectations to meet."

"I'm sure they're low enough for you to manage."

John groaned, "Kate please. Am I supposed to get him in my car? It's shit, you know that!"

"Use Mac's."

"You already got him in it! He knows it's not mine!"

Kate was giggling, "Take Sikes' then."

John blinks as he thinks about it, staring at the clock before he goes to stand, "Kate I gotta go. I'll call you afterwards if I'm still alive."

"Good luck. Hope you're real lucky."

John groaned before hanging up, hearing the tail end of Kate cackling before he put the phone down. He had ten minutes before he had to get Nikolai, ten minutes to either force himself to drive his car to borrow someone else's. Nikolai had money, he felt nothing but shame and nervousness thinking about driving his old, beat up car that has seen a better decade.

He could get Sikes' car, well, SUV. It was nice, nice enough to meet Nikolai's level. Sikes wouldn't be happy but John would happily give him a reminder what he was leaving he when thought about retirement. John grabbed his nicer jacket before he left his quarters, trying to calmly walk down the hall. He went straight to Sikes' office, pleasantly surprised to find it empty and his car keys left unguarded.

Without a second thought, John grabs them before writing a quick and cheeky note for Sikes to find. He wrote a rather confident message, hoping to make Sikes want to desensitize every damn inch of his SUV. A lasting memory, no matter where he goes he will have that SUV. John felt rather hilarious for it.

He walked down the hall, rhythmed breathing to help calm himself. 

Grab the SUV, drive around to the hanger, pick up Nikolai, then drive out to get food. Simple.

Simple, it was simple. But that didn't mean it was easy.

John managed to get to the hanger but he didn't see Nikolai anywhere, not near his bird or with his men. John did arrive earlier than agreed upon, maybe caught Nikolai unexpected.

Or he's not coming. Wanted to give me a taste of my own medicine.

Once that thought entered his mind it would not leave. Mac always did he could get in his own head like no one else, his own worst enemy. Nikolai wouldn’t do that, would he? He seemed genuine when accepting John's invitation to dinner. Was it an act? Has he been played?

John's heart almost escaped through his throat as Kamarov knocks on the window, grinning when he noticed he caught him off guard. John groans and rolls down the window, Kamarov leaning against the SUV's door.

"He's getting pretty. Will be out in a moment."

John made a face, he wasn't sure which one but it made Kamarov laugh. The man walked away and said something to the other Chimera men, most of them joining him in laughter. John sighed as he leaned back against the seat, debating on whether or not he should get out and greet Nikolai when he finally leaves the hanger.

What did he tell his guys this was?

John felt his face flush, did Nikolai refer to this as a date? 

John looked out of the corner of his eye and saw Nikolai.

Pretty indeed.

He moved quickly, uncoordinated, opening the door and trying to get out smoothly but his foot was caught in something, probably the door itself. John had ten seconds of what was the slowest fall of his life before he smacked against the ground, hard. And a chorus of Russian laughter howled in response. There wasn't a moment in existence where John wanted to spontaneously combust more than then.

He laid there, that probably is what made them laugh harder. Then silence as someone grabs his arm to help him up.

"Sergeant! Are you alright?"

Nikolai. Of course he did that where Nikolai could see him. John couldn't face the man as he hauled him off the ground all too easily. He finally had no choice to look at him when the man grabs his face and turns it, keeping an arm around him to keep him upright. Maybe it was the close proximity of Nikolai's face that made John to try to free himself. It would show that Nikolai didn’t have a grasp easily escaped.

"Be still. You're bleeding. Let me clean it up-" his tone had a very light bit of laughter in it, Nikolai showing more concern than amusement.

John kept trying to look away as Nikolai wrestled him to sit back in the car. This was already off to a bad start.

"I'm fine! Had worse."

"Your nose is-"

"Fine! I- Dinner."

Nikolai finally releases him, "It can wait a moment. Please let me clean your face."

John couldn't keep saying no, sighing as Nikolai turned and walked back to the hanger. Not a single one of his men laughed, choosing to go back to their previous work. He felt like he missed something while he was kissing the ground, they weren't daring to look in his direction now.

Nikolai returned with a first aid kit, John groaning. The place he wanted to take him didn't close until late so that wasn't a worry. But John found it impossible to be still and let Nikolai clean his face. The man was so gentle, holding his face with great care. John couldn’t look at him even though his face was so close to his, he just looked away before finally closing his eyes.

"Not so bad, looks like the ground didn't want to damage your beautiful face."

John's face lit on fire, the sergeant jerking his head free from Nikolai's face. He cleared his throat, Nikolai backing up with a small smile. John motioned to the other side of the SUV, staring mostly at the ground as he did.

"Dinner."

Nikolai laughs, "I apologize, I was too forward."

John's face was red, he knew it was. Nikolai showed him mercy by packing the first aid kit back up and tossing it to one of his men before he went around to the passenger side. John forced himself to get back in the driver's seat, face still hot as he thought about Nikolai's words and tenderness.

Oh he wasn't going to survive tonight.

___

“Congratulations, sergeant, you found the one place in this country that has decent food.” 

It was an obvious prod, Nikolai trying to get a reaction. John glared at him and the man grinned, he was waiting for a more verbal response. But John wasn’t going to give it to him, instead he’d prod the man as well. 

“You finally get your quality time and this is what you choose to do with it?” 

Nikolai licked his lips, “Oh, I’d have better things in mind. For proper quality time, mind you. This is-” 

He silently searched for the word, John watching him. He could practically hear it already, it was right there. Nikolai didn’t say it, just sighed. 

“This is quality time. Base level.” 

John snorts, “I can upgrade the level of quality time?” 

“If you play nice... starting by answering my calls.” 

John looked back to his food, shame pricking at his skin. Nikolai didn’t say anything else, poking at his slice of pie. It was an awkward silence, John deserved that.  

He thought back to his relationship with Kate in the beginning. But he got past that moment of sourness. Could he move on with Nikolai? He gave him this chance, this moment to apologize. He deserved an apology, this man that John didn’t know all about but couldn’t stop thinking about for a second. 

“Well, I am a coward. Good at taking people for granted, hurting people who don’t deserve it.” 

“A coward? Not you,” Nikolai disagreed, “I fondly think back to when you first impressed me.” 

A stolen cigarette, that’s what came to John’s mind upon Nikolai’s mention of that car chase.

"Cowards avoid things. Avoid talking to people they actually want to talk to," John muttered, he wasn't as hungry as he was moments ago.

Nikolai reached across the table and grabbed John's free hand, the man jerking up to look at him. There was understanding in Nikolai's eyes, it was like he understood what John was feeling on a deeper level than previously. There wasn't any words in that short moment, just a comfort and relief washing over him. He squeezed Nikolai's hands before letting go, the man sitting back on the other side of the table.

"It's not safe to be open in such a way, sergeant. I grew up in the system, never had a stable home life. I've seen people get killed over petty disagreements, let alone something they cannot help."

This was the first time John heard of this, out of everything he learned from Kate or hearing from Nikolai himself, this was something personal. He was letting him in, letting him get close, even after those months of silence. John knew he could never betray that trust, he'll never let his own fear get the better of him.

"I grew up rich."

Nikolai smiled, "Oh?"

"That first dinner you treated me and Kate to? That place was like going back home," John didn't want to share too much, while Nikolai opened up to him he didn't give too much information. John would do the same, match him.

"Had the finest silk sheets growing up, silver utensils all my life. Never been happier to get away from it."

Nikolai's smile was softer now, "I found people like me, even in our not so welcoming world. I didn't know stepping away from them in the end would be the best decision for me."

Cryptic messages, Nikolai was certainly sharing more than what he was used to. John didn't push for more, finally taking a bite of food (now colder than what he would've liked) and a drink of his watered down fizzy drink. They finished their plates in silence and John went to pay, but Nikolai wasn't going to let that happen in peace.

"Nikolai, put that wallet away."

"From riches to rags, I insist to cover this."

Oh that made John's eye twitch. He turned to the man who barely containing a gleeful grin, he was purposely prodding at him.

"I'm paying, Nik, and you're just going to have to let it happen. My treat, 'member?"

Nikolai grinned and finally allowed him to get out of the booth to pay. The waiter had been watching them this entire time, trying to act like he hadn't. John visited the diner enough to recognize a few of the staff, he didn't recognize this guy. At least the regular staff know not to stare at him.

When John returned to Nikolai so they could leave, the man was still grinning at him. John knew he was waiting for him to say something about it, so now John wasn't going to.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

"Hm? You are done with me already?"

"'Course not, got other things in mind."

Nikolai followed him outside, John was planning to just get in the car and leave, but Nikolai had other things planned.

"Where are you going?"

"A walks sounds lovely, no?"

John huffs out a short laugh as Nikolai walks out of the car park and into town. He had no choice but to follow him, he couldn't allow the man to get lost. There was a whole militia waiting for him to come back in one piece so John better deliver. He jogged to catch up to Nikolai, the man not slowing for a second as he ventured away from the diner.

"It feels lovely tonight."

"It's cold."

Nikolai looks at him, "Would you like to visit my home town?"

John hums, "Little earlier for that, isn't it? How long have we known each other?"

"That didn't stop you."

John glares and Nikolai laughs, sidestepping to avoid a swipe from him. Nikolai stepped back over after John stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"What was that you called me earlier?"

"I've called you many things in my head."

"Out loud. Nik, was it? Rather informal."

John flushes, "I-"

"I like it."

John chews on his lip, walking next to Nikolai in silence. Nikolai chose to be quiet, enjoying the walk, cool breeze, staring up at the sky with a light-hearted smile. You would never know this was an arms dealer, a man who profits off war. He didn't come off as that kind of person, scars and questionable background be damned.

He wanted to say something, as he stared at Nikolai, say anything to add to the moment. But John was afraid he wouldn't be able to do that, so he remained quiet. Staring, and he knew that Nikolai noticed. He was still smiling, he felt warm to stand next to even in the chilly evening.

"Maybe we should move on with your activity list, so you can return that borrowed vehicle."

Nikolai looked to John, smug, and John was horrified. Nikolai laughed as John stuttered, trying to get out a response in his defense.

"I know what your car looks like, sergeant. Maybe pick me up in it sometime."

Nikolai headed back to the car park and John watched him, dumbfounded.

"How do you know what my car looks like!?"

Nikolai didn't reply, just skipped ahead to the SUV.

___

"It was Kate, wasn't it?"

They took a longer route back to base, enjoying the ride with music playing softly from the radio. John couldn't get past the car comment.

"What fun would it be telling you? I need to keep my air of mystery."

John glared, "You're mysterious enough."

Nikolai's laugh would never get old. John could see him smile all night, hear him laugh all night. He wouldn't dare say this out loud, that would be too much.

They pulled back into base, security stopping them.

"Out late, sergeant. Hot date?"

A joke, but John had a hard time taking it as such. It stayed with him as he drove them to the hanger occupied by Chimera, and it apparently stayed with Nikolai, as well. They stopped in front of the hanger, Nikolai's men no where in sight. 

"Well, that's the night."

"That's all?" Nikolai sounded amused yet disappointed. 

"Well, work night and all..."

It was awkward, how was he supposed to end this? Nikolai was watching him expectantly, what was he waiting for? John was out of his element. The diner, walking through town, the park, the night drive-

How does he say good night to Nikolai?

"I may be... rusty."

"Rusty? In what, sergeant?"

John didn't get to speak as Nikolai reaches over and takes his chin in his hand, forcing him to look at him. Everything slowed in that moment, John's heart pounding and his mind screaming. Nikolai pulled him close and he followed without resistance. He couldn't remember the last time he ever kissed someone, let alone someone he was so drawn to. It was sweet but awkward.

When Nikolai parted away, John was staring at him with wide eyes, unable to say a word. He stared long enough to make Nikolai nervous, maybe even make him doubt himself and lose confidence. John didn't let him stew too long, grabbing Nikolai's shirt and forcing him close again, this time kissing with effort. Nikolai melted almost immediately, a hand cupping his jaw as he leaned completely into John.

When they parted again, John was grinning stupidly as was Nikolai. It was a wonderful feeling, like he could finally breathe.

"That's how you end a date, sergeant," Nikolai muttered and John laughed, "I would show you another way but... I want to know you."

"I want to know you, too."

It was all too soft and sweet for men like them. But it was something John needed terribly, he wasn't even aware of how much he needed it until that moment. Nikolai ended the night with another kiss, soft on his cheek before he got out of the SUV and headed into the hanger. John watched him until he was out sight, only then driving back to the car park to return the SUV.

___

"You look... happy," Banks muttered, watching him with great suspicion.

John wasn't surprised, he felt better than he had in years. True, genuine happiness, of course it was noticed.

"I had a good night."

"Right... in LT's car?"

John bites back a laugh as Sikes, who had previously gave him a wide berth the entire morning, whipped his head around to glare at them. Banks snorted and ducked his head, suppressing his laughter into his arm. Mac walked in then, with Nikolai, and Banks was putting all his training towards not cackling at Sikes' expression.

"Gentlemen, business," Mac grunted.

Nikolai chose to sit next to John and John felt giddy. Mac looked between them like he knew something, and he wasn't pleased about what he knew. But he didn't say anything on it, choosing to move on to the task at hand.

John tried to focus, but it was hard when Nikolai insisted on holding his hand under the table.

___

"You kissed him? Kissed him!?"

Apparently being polite and not waking Kate up in the night to tell her was the wrong move. He chose to go with her annoyance.

"Yea, we're having a spring wedding. When's yours?"

Kate was hysterical, in laughter and other reasons. John listened, laughing, as he stared at the postcard that was left on his desk. It was written in Russian, a heart at the end, and John knew his next personal mission. Learn Russian, and hopefully write out everything he felt that he's never been able to say out loud in English.

[wrathofrats]

Wrath my beloved, may we get a little hurt comfort Domdrop scene with RainDrop?

Yeah you can

This is just 1k of sap. It’s exactly what it says on the tin.

Rain wiped a damp cloth over Dews face.

His skin felt like it was burning, red and covered in sweat and other fluids. A small smile followed once the washcloth passed over him with a playful glint still in dews eye. His head still felt fuzzy, a sweet cozy feeling as he let rain clean him up after the long scene. The insides of his thighs still hurt from rains long nails holding him still. It stung as rain passed over them with the rough cloth, earning a small flinch from the fire ghoul.

“Sorry baby, gotta make sure you’re cleaned up” rain practically whispered with a guilty look on his face. His gaze lingered over the crescent shapes that seemed to be carved into his skin. They’d heal in time, they always did.

Rain always found these situations weirdly funny. That he could degrade and hit someone until they bled with little remorse, happiness in his actions even when the other ghoul eventually came down from their submissive state to thank him.

It was always the smaller incidents that happened to get to him. He didn’t intend on being mean, dew acted on a whim dragging rain into their room in hopes for a quick fuck to release some stress. But rain took control anyways. He tended to end up in charge unless dew clearly stated he wanted otherwise. Even when being sweet his words tended to stray towards strict and harsh, his actions leaving marks when not thinking about it.

“Raincloud? You ok? You look like you’re about to be ill” dew slowly sat up as rain continued to examine his skin. He placed his hand under rains chin to drive his gaze upwards in hopes of breaking whatever trance he seemed to be in.

The blood had at some point ran out of his face, the blue tinge to his cheeks no longer there. His eyes looked wider than normal while he played with his lip between his teeth.

“M fine dew, let’s get you dressed yeah?” Rain said, grabbing his clothes off the ground. Dew instinctively raised his arms as rain pulled her shirt over his head, punctuated with a peck on the lips as his head popped through as he always did.

The sense of normalcy was the only thing staving off whatever feelings rain could feel lingering in the back of his mind. The knowledge that something was wrong settled in his stomach as he hoped that dew would just drop it. He could sleep off whatever it was, as long as he had dew in his arms.

However the fire ghoul had never been known to let something go.

“Rain there’s something wrong, I can tell” dew gave the water ghoul a concerned look once he was fully dressed. Rain seemed uncanny, like he was trying to mimic someone else being calm instead of actually being ok himself. His face uncharacteristically still, movements almost too careful. Rain was known to come off as cold but this didn’t feel like the rain dew knew.

“No there’s not dew. I already said I’m fine so I don’t understand why you can’t drop it” rain snapped.

Rain gave a harsh glare before his face fell. Dew looked a bit hurt, startled at his harsh tone.

“Rainy I’m sorry-“

“No dew you didn’t do anything. I shouldn’t have snapped like that” rain avoided his gaze, instead shuffling to move the comforter back into position and over dew.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something earlier?” Dews tone softened as he reached for rain again as the blanket was pulled up to his chest. He moved over, motioning for rain to join him.

“You’ve done nothing wrong droplet. It’s me”

“Talk to me rain, mountains been making me do that voicing your feelings bullshit so I might as well make you too” rain gave him a small chuckle before dragging him closer into his side.

“I just worry I’m being too mean to you. I don’t want to hurt you, at least not without your consent. And sometimes I just feel like I’m being too much”

“Id tell you if I didn’t like it, you know that” dew said, looking up at rain who was attempting to bury his head in dews hair.

“But you don’t deserve to be hurt all the time. You deserve for me to love you and sometimes I feel like I’m not giving you that” rains voice became more restricted, trying to hold himself back. He hated feeling like this. He hated being on a borderline breakdown when he’s not even the one who should be upset. This was dews aftercare. Not his.

“I know you love me more than anything. I wouldn’t trust you if I didn’t think you did. I like it when your hurt me, I like it when you’re rough.”

“But I don’t think I like it when I’m rough” rain practically whispered, his grip tightening around dews t shirt.

“Then I’ll start asking you to be soft” dew dragged rains head down to his to pull him into a chaste kiss. More to hopefully stop the tears he knew were forming in rains eyes. Rain didn’t cry often, at least on his own accord.

“You don’t have to change your preferences for me dewdrop”

“I want you to be soft with me. I want you to make love to me and act like I’ll break if you push me too hard. I want what you want. I want you to be happy. I just want you rain.”

Rain just looked at him. Stared into his fiery eyes as dew rubbed his cheek with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, this is dumb” rain force chuckled.

“It’s not dumb, I love you” dew said. Rain gave a sad smile before leaning into him, breathing in his scent as if he would open his eyes and dew would be gone.

“Yeah, I love you too”

[georgeclarkewifey]

Inconvenience | g. clarke

Chapter 5 - The Bach and Arthur Podcast

Summary: Noa spills all in an eventful episode of her favourite podcast

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: swearing (I think that’s all of them? lmk if you think there should be more xxx)

noamurphy

liked by arthurtv, italianbach and 18,938 others

noamurphy Issac wouldn’t smile for the photo :(

but hey, catch me on the Bach and Arthur podcast where I talk about literally anything and everything (sorry Chris)

Comments open

italianbach i look so cool

chrismd10 what do you mean sorry Chris??

⮑ noamurphy guess you’ll have to watch and find out ;)

⮑ chrismd10 Noa…

⮑ noamurphy Christopher…

arthurtv best episode yet id say

⮑ noamurphy yeah bc I was there

⮑ maxbalegde useless hotline when??

⮑ noamurphy 👀

⮑ fan NOA WHAT DOES THIS MEAN????

fan1 the silence from George is LOUD

⮑ fan2 yes!!! Bc why is the entire uk yt scene following her except for him???

⮑ fan3 speculation 👏 means 👏 nothing 👏

⮑ noamurphy fan3 speaking facts

gkbarry_ everyone prepared to get jealous bc I’m meeting her tomorrow

⮑ noamurphy giggling and kicking my feet like a child

⮑ arthurhill can confirm this

⮑ taliamar can I come 🥺👉👈

⮑ gkbarry_ noamurphy odds on making it a London girlies meet up?

⮑ noamurphy let’s do it x

⮑ gkbarry_ freyanightingale consider yourself invited

⮑fan4 this meet up is going to be legendary

“Welcome back to the Bach and Arthur Podcast, where we have a very special guest, please welcome the very cool Noa Murphy!” Arthur introduced, grinning as Noa moved onto the set.

She sat opposite Arthur and Issac, relaxing into the plush sofa. “Hello hello, thanks for having me.”

“You’re very welcome, to be honest I’ve wanted you to come on ever since you moved.” Arthur said.

“What can I say, I’ve got some great stories to tell of our childhood in Jersey.”

“Please tell me you have embarrassing child Arthur stories.” Isaac begged, adjusting the microphone in front of him.

“Oh of course I do.” She replied, grinning mischievously at Arthur, who closed his eyes.

“How am I regretting having you on already?” Arthur asked.

“Maybe you should give yourself a small introduction, so those who are watching who may not know who you are?” Isaac suggested.

Noa nodded, and waved at the camera. “Hi! I’m Noa, I grew up in Jersey with Arthur, and the even more famous Chrismd, and I’m currently working as an architect.”

“God you’re instantly cooler than all of us.” Isaac replied, glancing at Arthur and shaking his head.

“I mean I’ve got a law degree-“

“But you’re not an actual lawyer.”

“But I trained-“

“But you quit two months in.”

Arthur sighed. “Fine.”

“So, growing up in Jersey? What was it like?”

Noa smiled fondly, leaning back in the chair. “Even though it was small, I did really enjoy my childhood ya know? There’s been times where I’ve thought I was a bit hard done by, like missing out on being near London, and all the cool stuff there, but at the same time, as a kid who was fond of the outdoors, being able to run around in fields for hours on end was really good for me.”

“All fine until you encounter a bull.” Arthur added, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

“I’m sensing a story…” Isaac said, leaning closer to the mic with a smile.

Noa rolled her eyes playfully and looked at Arthur. “Shall I tell the story or do you want to?”

“You’re the guest, all yours.”

Swiping a few stray hairs away from her eyes, Noa smiled fondly and set about telling the story. “So, next to the roads where Arthur, Chris and I lived, there were loads of farmers fields - some had crops in, but the majority of them were grazing pastures for cows.”

“Jersey cows, one of the main things we’re known for.”

“Exactly. And so as kids, we’d run around these fields whenever they were empty, which would be a couple of weeks to a month on rotation. The farmer knew we did this, he didn’t really care so long as we weren’t in with the cows.” Noa said, exchanging knowing smiles with Arthur.

“So one summer, I think I was about 12? So Arthur and Chris were 15,16 maybe, and we’re running around these as we do, with the other kids in the neighbourhood. And it’s getting late, so before we go home, what we would do is we’d go up to the fence within the field, to try and feed the cows, Arthur even had a favourite.”

“He what?”

“Oh my god, Moovis! How could I forget about her!”

“You named a cow, Moovis?” Isaac asked, slowly turning to look at Arthur.

He shrugged. “She was cute, and she liked me, so I thought why not?”

“So we went up to this fence as usual, but for some reason the herd wasn’t in the adjacent field, which we all thought was weird, so we decided to investigate.”

“Hindsight shows that we should never have done that.”

“So we all climb over into this field, and start exploring. I think we got about halfway across when we realised why there weren’t any cows in that field.”

“I’m really scared about what’s going to happen next.”

“There were bulls. No cows because there were about five bulls in the field.”

“Honestly, it was one of the most terrifying moments of my life.” Arthur insisted, nodding furiously. “The fear that went through me was insane. I think I’m still apprehensive to go in fields with cows now after this.”

“So we then have to get out, but we’re trying to creep backwards in the hope that they haven’t seen us, and that we can escape without dying.”

“I’m guessing that something went wrong?” Isaac asked.

“So as we’re backing it towards the fence, this fucking massive bull spots Chris, who’s wearing his bright red Arsenal shirt, and does the normal thing and starts charging. Which prompts the rest of them to start charging us. So, we are all scared to death, sprinting for our lives - I’m pretty sure Kelly, Chris’ sister and Chris were both holding my hands and dragging me along, because eleven year old me could hardly keep up.”

“That sounds deeply traumatic.”

“Trust me, it was.” Arthur said, looking a little pale.

“Then as we get to the fence, I reckon they were about ten metres behind, so we throw ourselves over, and as we tumble over, poor Chris landed headfirst into a cowpat.”

Isaac’s jaw dropped, and slowly formed into a grin as he looked between Noa and Arthur. “You’re kidding.”

“She isn’t.” Arthur confirmed, biting his lip in an attempt to grin too much. “He then started screaming about how he had cow shit in his hair and all over his face.”

“So we did the sympathetic thing and laughed at him, because we were all so high on adrenaline and were just happy to be alive.”

“That might just be the best story that’s been told on the podcast yet.”

“I think I have to agree, poor little ChrisMD.”

“He complained the entire way back, and then to make it even better, we had to hose him down, because his mum didn’t want him coming inside with shit covered hair.” Noa added, grinning. “He stank for a couple of days though, he had to play Sunday league smelling like a cow’s arse.”

————————————•————————————

“So, Noa - the question everyone wants us to ask, are you ever going to do content creation?” Isaac asked, glancing over to Noa, who was happily curled up in the chair, cupping a fresh mug of hot chocolate.

She sighed. “It’s a complicated thing - I’ve obviously got my regular job, to which I am very happy in - my project is going well, which is always a plus.”

“For those who don’t know Noa is a really cool architect.”

“Arthur is exaggerating, I’ve just started at my dream firm and this is my first proper project.”

“But you’ve got a Masters degree, yeah?”

Noa nodded, rolling her eyes at Arthur. “Yes. Distinction in Modern Architecture with a Special Specialisation in Greco-Roman Architecture, is the full title I believe.”

“And it’s from Cambridge.”

“And that.”

“So, vlogging, TikTok? Are we going to see you there in the future?” Isaac questioned, trying to steer the conversation back onto the right track.”

“Right, yeah. I have considered it definitely, seeing as nearly everyone I know is a creator. But I’ve really considered the pros and cons, the biggest factor being that I don’t know how to edit, and I don’t really have it in my budget right now to pay an editor.”

“But if you found something that you were good at would you?” Arthur pressed, exchanging a glance with Isaac. “Because we must admit, we both think you’d make really good kinda micro-vlogs, or just really minimalistic ones.”

“Yeah, like they’re only like, ten, fifteen minutes long and it’s just your entire week, and it’s just you doing your normal routine.”

Noa raised her eyebrows. “You guys genuinely think that people would watch that?”

“Hell yeah! Even if there’s hardly any voice over, and you kinda just have some gentle music over your soft footage almost?” Arthur suggested.

“I mean, I’ll consider it. If people would genuinely watch it then yeah, I would probably start doing something like that.”

“You’d want it to be manageable.”

“Oh for sure, because it’s got to come after my job, and I’d also feel a bit weird if I become that one coworker that does YouTube or TikTok.”

“I mean, that was me. And I was working at a law firm.” Arthur added, trying to convince Noa more.

“Well on that subject, how did you get into architecture? Was it something you were always into?”

Arthur gave Isaac a slightly panicked look - this wasn’t something they had planned to talk about. He glanced at Noa, who didn’t seem too phased about the question.

“I mean, kind of? It was my special interest as a kid, aside from other things, and it was always fostered whenever we’d go on family trips to literally anywhere, because I’d just be walking round a city staring at all the buildings. That’s also how I was nearly run over by a bike as a child.”

“Stepped into the road without looking?”

“Indeed I did. Always look where you’re going kids.” Noa said, pointing down the camera lens that was focused on her. “So yeah, when I was applying for uni I knew that it was what I wanted to do.”

“That’s pretty cool. Would you ever design a house for one of us? You know, if we paid you enough?” Isaac questioned jokingly, raising an eyebrow at her.

Noa huffed, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “Maybe? It would have to fit the style of what I enjoy designing, but maybe.”

“You hear that Sidemen? You want a new house, get Noa to design it.”

author speaks: hello! I’m back! Sorry for the break in updates, moving out of uni took a lot of my time, therefore hardly any time to write :(

but I’m back now, so we vibin 😎

[izvmimi]

cw: part of mafia au. serious injury mention and hospital talk.

you should have known better to get involved.

now you sit, twiddling your thumbs, in a stranger's room, exasperated with the fact that you've had to tell nurse after tech after physician that you do not in fact know the man who's asleep in the hospital bed in the room with you, that all you are is a (now-reluctant) Good Samaritan who's gotten in over their head.

but what do you do when a young man falls directly into your arms, nearly taking you down with him?

you sigh, and bring one of your knees to your chest. you should have left as soon as the ambulance arrived, but somehow an unnecessary sense of responsibility compelled you to jump into the back of the ambulance with him, and that same morbid curiosity has kept you here. now that hours have passed, it would feel pointless to leave. perhaps that's sunk cost fallacy, you think, but you watch the young man slumber and sigh. perhaps you'll see this through.

you stare at the clock, then glance back at him, wondering how long it will be until he wakes, and how you'll introduce yourself. does he remember that he passed out in your arms? should you call him by his name, the one you just learned today from the worn id stuffed in the bloody wallet in the pocket of his jacket? what exactly is the etiquette when someone wakes up from surgery and is not surrounded by loved ones but an overly involved passerby?

you're strangers and yet by chance, now you're in the most intimate of spaces. you sigh, and hope someone can rescue from this situation, but alas his phone has not yet rung. it's been hours.

you check your own phone. about an hour ago you sent a message through Instagram to the man who last texted, thankful that izuku is the type of person who records people by their first and last name. 'Bakugou Katsuki' has not yet answered. you wonder if he even is a good person to message, given that he didn't seem all that nice in the message - 'where the fuck are you at?!' you've also messaged another man named 'Shoto Todoroki' with no profile picture (hopefully the right one), and wished you had a way to contact 'Mom <3'.

your own mother would think you were silly for staying this long, but part of you thinks that you would hate to be alone in a situation like this.

he'd stumbled into that train station, needing help but unable to form the words. you were the first person to notice the blood soaking through his clothes. you don't know anything about medicine but you moved quickly, and now you're here.

perhaps you should be concerned about why exactly a person would be walking around with stab wounds to the belly, but the young man is soft-featured, appearing far too gentle, particularly in sleep, to hurt anyone. you remind yourself that looks can be deceiving. perhaps he is insane, after all he seemed to smile right before he passed out.

the image of his smile lingers on your brain. you check your phone again. no reply.

and then you hear him shift.

suddenly you feel so vulnerable, your face drowning in heat. why are you here? he's wrapped up in blankets but moves a little too exuberantly, like he didn't just come out of anesthesia, and you open your mouth to tell him to slow down but nothing comes out. he looks around, a weary squint as he scans the room, and then his eyes settle on you.

they widen, a bright, brilliant green.

"fuck."

his voice is both everything and nothing like you expect. this also is committed to memory, just like his smile, just like his big green eyes.

you blink a few times in confusion, but you don't say anything. he continues to look at you, really take you in along with the surroundings, as he moves his limbs, fingers then wrists then arms and shoulders, as though in routine. you suspect this isn't the first time he's been knocked unconscious.

he's still looking at you, and you're still trying to come up with something to say, your voice choking in your throat.

"i-, i can explain," you start, but he's not listening.

"no fucking way these assholes killed me," he whispers under his breath.

you frown, but he's now talking a mile a minute, looking at his hands, then at you, then back at his hands.

"i can't fucking believe this!"

his head is in his hands now, and you're suddenly experiencing a quiet meltdown as he mutters to himself, something about how his mom will be pissed, how his friends will be pissed, how he cannot believe he let himself slip. this goes on for a few more minutes, and you observe, unsure of what to do before you decide to interrupt.

you stand, and approach.

"um... you're not dead."

your hand settles on his shoulder and he tenses, and you quickly withdraw your hand. what are you doing? you think.

"you're not dead! i'm sorry, i know this must be really strange and actually i think i'll leave now," you trail off, embarrassed.

"wait no, don't go." he replies quickly. you stop in your tracks, and turn back to look at him, and really see him again - cleaned up and confused, bandages wrapped around his broad torso and for a moment you realize he's also cute, or rather boyishly handsome, and then you feel like a creep.

he takes your arm by the wrist first, and when you look terrified, he lets go, quickly, whispering a quick sorry.

"it's just that you looked like an angel."

your eyes widen.

"god, i should stop talking, shouldn't i?" he says, red flushing over a spray of freckles on both cheeks, yet another thing you're noticing for the first time. both of you are warm and uncomfortable - his phone rings finally, and you grab it and toss it gently in his direction before gathering all your things and stepping out.

your heart beats so fast you think it might burst, and you press your hands to your warmed cheeks.

an angel. is that what you stayed to hear?

you can hear someone yelling on the phone at him but try not to eavesdrop. you've trespassed enough.

but you think again about how you were this stranger's guardian angel for the rest of the night.

[sunnysidestories]

Introductions Pt 3

Summary: Reader is a vigilante on young justice who goes to the same school as Walls. Only Wally doesn't know the readers identity, but she knows his. SLOW BURN

LAST PART

Part 1

Part 2

"Oh."

His body would stop moving in my arms. Being the only thing holding him up at the moment gave the leverage needed to move him forward, slowly. At this point, the fight had ended, and the rest of the team sat looking at Wallys disheveled appearance, his eyes blown wide open in shock. Robin was the first to our side spouting words that couldn't reach my ears. I didn't allow it. Step by step down the hall and back into the bioship. A deer in headlights was the only thing that seemed remotely close to how Wally had reacted.

Mind beginning to race, doubts returning, as I sat Wally down in a seat. He crossed his arms, folding himself in the seat in an attempt to shrink in size. I knew it. He didn't like me. I've ruined it. I'm - I'm a-

The feeling of a hand gripping my shoulder forced me to turn around. In my own state of mind, I somehow had reached the other side of the ship. Robin's words finally flooded into my skull. "H/n! What did you say to him? He completely slacked. You two almost fell off the edge." Oh. Yeah. "I'll tell you another time. I just wanna go home." Tears seemed to brim around the edge of my mask, threatening to spill with any further explanation.

...

Idiot. Kicking off my gear, throwing it onto the small corner holding dirty clothes. Idiot. Before dropping to the floor, head pressed into the side of the mattress, pathetically gripping the sheet. Finally, starting to cry. Everything started to crumble, the mountain of self-worth that has been slowly starting to build over the year shattered. Built on a foundation of hope. A hope that he, Wally, had liked what he saw. It's so silly to put so much on a boy. One that didn't even accept you for who you were. A disappointment, it could have been anyone in the world on that roof with him. Anyone could be H/n, just had to be you. A girl from his class who fell in love with both sides of him.

I love him. Shutting my eyes, I whisper it to myself, I love him. Stupid, this is how I realized. Slowly standing back up, I started to recollect myself. Walking over to the window, half expecting to see the yellow blur pass by in a sense of familiarity. Nothing. He couldn't even run by the house. Like he even knew you lived there. Walking... no stumbling, back to bed, trying to hide in the blankets warmth. I would roll over, adjusting myself, only stopping as the crinkle of a paper made itself known under the pillow.

Of course, I left it out. Of course, I left out one of the silly little notes he wrote. Hand reaching out, I grab the small folded paper. I know I shouldn't open it, but I find myself doing the exact opposite.

"What do you call an acid with an attitude?.... A-mean-oh-acid. Ha. Ha. Ha. That was bad. im sorry, but like, did you know the acid in your stomach is the strongest in the world. So strong it can dissolve a razor blade? If i ate one i wonder if id be okay"

He's right. It was bad. Terrible. Stupid even, but I can't stop myself when a smile graced my face. I wouldn't be surprised if he actually would try to eat one. I crumble the note and his perfectly placed handwriting. Another tear frames my face. Another momment passed before I realized, I have school tommorow.

With him.

On another note. I'm staying home tomorrow.

.

.

.

.

.

FLEETFEET

Hey

Sent 12:13am

I'm not mad please just, text me back.

Please H/n.

Sent 12:30am

Can you call?

Sent 12:32am

Please, I just really need to talk to you.

Sent 12:45am

Y/n

Seen 12:55am

FLEETFEET

Incoming Call

📞

.

.

.

.

.

.

I click open my screen when waken by the sounds of my ringer. I accept the call, sleep fogging my vision. "Hello? It's one in the morning. Who is it?" I can hear a sigh over the other sign of the phone. "It's you." Oh. Oh, sh- "Y/n please, I'm coming over." His voice states rushed to the point my brain doesn't hear the last bits. "Wally, you don't know wher- why? Huh ? you're supposed to be mad right now." He laughs and I can hear the sound of a door closing behind him. "Wallace are you actually, Wally please its so late my parents are sleeping and I live on the second floor Walls they would kill me if they saw you."

I sit up straight in bed, partially realizing the state I sat in. Messy hair, a tear stained face, pathetic truly, my grip on the phone increases. If he's going to be here maybe I should put on some clothes... wait, what am I even saying ? "Wally? Where are you?" I check the phone, somewhere in my panic he hung up on me. I get up quickly grabbing a pair of shorts and I shirt. There's no way he knows where I live? Wally knows where I live? Kid Flash knows where.... without thinking I find myself trying to pick up my room half way through it there's a knock on the window.

No way.

I rush to the window pulling back my curtain, and there he was, standing in the fire escape. The largest grin plastered his face, growing twice in size as I open the window. Somewhere along the way he had changed into normal attire. A black shirt, and matching shorts. As if it was a covert mission. I look up to him, the very eyes I've stared at far too long catching my own, those freckled cheeks dancing as if they were the stars themselves when he spoke. In an instant he's inside, holding me close. "I'm so glad it's you."

His voice. His words. Words so desperately needed to be said, the way he seemed to melt back into my arms once more. It was too much. I began to cry again.

"Wally- I- I should have told you sooner." Eventually, I choked out. Even if he's quick to reply. "No. I shouldn't of reacted the way I did. If i'm honest, I don't even remember how I got home. I just could hear you. Over and over. Saying your name, h/n just saying y/n. I was just thinking. Trying to grasp that the two people I'd fallen in love with over the year... Are the same person? How was I so stupid? " He ducked his head back into my neck.

My heart spiked. One of his hands traveled to my face, whiping some of my tears, they were surprisingly soft.

"You're anything but. You're kind, you have the best jokes, light up any room you inhabit, and always know anything and everything when it comes to science." I pull away from him, the close proximity suddenly becoming too much, in the small space of the room I take a step back. Besides. I want to look at him when I talk. It's so much easier to read him. "Don't call yourself stupid. I hate it when you put yourself down like that."

"You're the one to talk." His eyes flicker to mine again. "Somedays, sure, it's better than most. I knowtice it. I watch you y/n. Even after our conversation. You beat yourself up over the smallest of things. You think you're the smallest thing, an atom in a world full of matter. But you do, atoms make up everything, make up matter. You matter. You matter to me! You matter!" He points to my heart and states.

I can't help it when I laugh at his accidental joke. Despite the situation, he can't help but bring science into it, into a joke.

"Every night when I can, I run past your house looking at that lamp of yours. You never turn it off until you head to bed. And well, the more I think about it, I kind of- sort of realize you were never in bed and probably out on patrol- and I know you're okay. Because I care, I care so much." I can hear the faint way his voice cracks. Are his eyes watering? I reach out for him, grabbing his hand in both of mine. He's always been so warm.

"I care because I love you y/n, and it's such a bonus that you're h/n because, heck, I fell in love with her too." He squeezes my hand "Even if you tried to hide your real self to the team. Those little things that slipped through, the real you. You might not see it. But I did. Those things I loved." My face becomes increasingly hot as he goes on.

"-how you think before you reply to me, bitting your cheek as you do so. How you listen to me. Putting your head in your hands and looking right at me. Even if what I'm saying is the most random thing. Do you know how hard it is trying to not forget what I was saying when you'd look at me like that? With such-" -Love' I finished in my head, watching how his eyebrows furrowed. As he tried and failed to find the right word. I go to say something, getting cut off quickly.

"-You'll remember. Like when I told you my birthday offhand and you bought me something." He throws his arms up in the air, and his head back, with his eyes closed. "Then got me something as y/n, and I was so confused how you knew it was my birthday. You bought me two things! Just to hide it." He laughed, looking down at his feet. Before placing a hand over his face.

By now, it was evident he was blushing. Once again, he was the color of his hair, no redder. "I just wish you could see yourself like I do y/n."

It's quiet for too long before I finally speak. "I'm trying... it's hard. It really is Wally. You've done more than you realize. Yes, some days are harder than others. I'm not perfect. But it isn't so hard with you there, and when you're not there, your notes are." I slip.

"I KNEW IT!"

He yelps before I quickly grasp my hand over his mouth. "Shhhh! If you wake my parents right now, Wallace, I will actually never talk to you again." Letting him go he starts to shake. Visibly shake. Like when we're fighting in combat, using his speed, it always happened when he got too excited. He's got that look on his face again. Like he's up to no good. Did- did me grabbing him cause that reaction?

"Yes, I keep your notes!" It feels good to admit. "They remind me of you, and you make me feel safe, compared to everything you've made me feel known, seen! I love you too, okay? said it!" I whisper in a yell.

The blur of red registers as it zips into my direction. His smell fills my noise as his lips meet my own. Dipping me slightly with a hand on my lower back, the other snaking around my neck... Like an old book, he smells like that stupid textbook.

My eyes are wide, not expecting the outburst of his speed to be used in such a way. Eventually though. When I realize what had just happened, I return the kiss. It felt like it lasted forever, and not nearly long enough at the same time.

As he pulled away, he apologized. I shut him up quickly by kissing him again, before my bedroom door opens, my light flicking on.,

"Y/n? What are you doing up so late I could of sworn I heard someone?" My mother calls as I turn to her. "Oh well-" I turn back to look to Wally. Only for him to be gone. "I just was using the bathtoom. I stubbed my toe though and yelled. Sorry if I woke you." She sighed biding me goodnight and closing the door. Wally rolls out from under my bed as I smack my face with a groan.

...

..

.

Five years later

.

..

...

"Wally, I don't know about this. There's supposed to be a lot of important scientists there - I shouldn't be just going with you!" He rolls his eyes, adjustinging his tie. "You've meet my uncle before, and he's the smartest one there."

"How do you always drag me into this?" I ask aloud, hooking my hand into his, while we walk inside. "Because you love me?" He states with a roll of his eye. He leads me past the party goers until we reach his Uncle, who was engaged in conversation with a small group. He greets us both with a smile. I let go of Wally to shake their hands.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you all, I've heard so much about your research. I'm Barry's nephew. Wallace West, but people call me Wally. This is my lovely wife-" I finish "-Y/n, y/n West. It's a pleasure."

.

..

...

@redsakura101 )) ;)

A/N

Sooo???? I finally finished it..... what did we think? How many little details did you knowtice? And God did I forget how much I don't like writing in first person. Is that part of the reason why I didn't update this?? Yes. Is it also because I fell a bit out of DC??? Also yes! Anyways I love you guys and I really hope you enjoyed the last part. I hope it was worth the wait, and I didn't misspell or have too many gramatical errors.

Pls request things! Kk! 💞

~Sunny

[ashboy-3]

The Unspoken Deal

Fandom: Danny Phantom, John Constantine, and DCU Characters: John Constantine, Danny Fenton/Phantom, Batman, Superman, other JL members Words: 3507 Summary:

Danny and John have a deal. It's a simple deal. Every month they have a meet up. Danny keeps as much control over the ghost as he can in return John keeps track of them in the human realm. That's it nothing else should be so simple.

So why do feelings keep getting involved and why does the justice league suddenly seem so interested in the beings of the infinite realms.

John knows one thing for sure: This is all Danny's fault.

“You know these meetings are supposed to be taken seriously? Right mate?” John Constantine asked, only a little annoyed at dealing with the half-ghost.

“Who says? The council, meh I don’t really fully care what they have to say,” the half-ghost laughed, throwing another snowball at the human.

“Why do I put up with you again?” Constantine rubbed his hand over his face.

“You love me,” the ghost teased.

“What makes you so sure,” John hid the small smile that was on his face. He would never admit it, but the half ghost does hold a special place within his heart, a place that very few ever made it to.

“Any big threats I need to know about?” the ghost floated in front of John, ignoring the question that was being asked of him.

“Nothing I’ve heard about oh Danny boy,” John nodded towards him, watching as the Ghost King looked him up and down.

“Sell your soul recently?” Danny eyed him.

“Don’t know what your talkin about mate,” John avoided looking at the ghost, choosing instead to focus on his neglected cigarette.

“Well mate,” Danny easily copied the brit’s accent. “I happen to have a soul piece here.” Danny took the small delicate object out of his pocket, showing it off to John’s widened eyes.

“Be careful with that!” He shouted, seeing Danny just throwing it in the air as if it was a plastic ball.

“I would be if you didn’t treat your soul like a throw away joke,” Danny glared at his old friend, watching him put out the cancer stick as the two walked inside the castle also known as phantom’s keep and talk. “I’m serious John. Every time you sell your soul, I have to find a way to get it. You’ve sold over half of your soul. Soon you won’t have any pieces left,” Danny rolled his eyes, walking into a room where he keeps a singular candy jar, dropping the glowing piece in the jar. It made a small clink as it fell with the other pieces.

“That really is my whole soul isn’t it,” John peaked into the room to look at the jar.

“Farid so. Makes almost a whole soul. Be careful, our time is almost up so I’ll be seeing you next month?” Danny frowned at the idea of John leaving.

“I’ll be sure to give you a call if something comes up mate,” John assured him.

“And the heroes will be kept out of my realm?” They both know Danny’s rules about humans walking around the realms. Even now, years later from his teenage years, the humans he allows in are few and small. Adding heroes to that list just makes it worse.

“No heroes,” John assured him, opening the portal with a simple spell, stepping back into the house of mystery. “I’ll be seeing you ole Danny boy,” John smiled a sad smile at watching the portal close, shutting off his communication with the older ghost.

Recently all of their monthly meetings have the old warlock feeling like this. Feeling like something is missing or wrong. Sometimes he debates saying more, extending their meetings, even offering to meet more than once a month, but it never goes that far, choosing instead to ignore the feeling and continue on his day.

Pouring himself a drink, a favorite activity of his. He couldn’t help the groan that came from his mouth at hearing his phone ring.

Ring Ring Ring

Constantine sighed as the annoying ring hurt his ears. It was worse when he checked the caller ID. “What do ya want bats. Ima little busy?”

“Meeting at the watchtower. Be there,” the rough voice ordered from the phone.

“You could at least butter me up a little,” the thick British accent responded. Batman didn’t dignify him with a response, choosing instead to just hang up the phone.

“Well doll seems I still can’t take a break,” John signed, talking to the house. Downing his drink within one gulp he casted another spell, landing him right in the watchtower.

“Do you have to appear on the table every time?” Superman asked in wonder.

“Just how magic works mate,” John dusted off his tan coat, stepping off the table that was surrounded by multiple leaguers. “Alright what’s this whole shin dig about?”

“We have gotten multiple reports and sightings about strange creatures,” Batman started, clicking buttons on a small remote for all of the leaguers to see. Up on the big screens were creatures, creatures that Constantine was very familiar with. A bad feeling began to weave its way into his liver ruined gut.

“Are they aliens?” one of the leaguers questioned.

“Nothing in any of our databases,” Hal shook his head with crossed arms.

“Nothing from under the sea,” Aquaman agreed.

“So, they’ve come from a strange place that none of us have heard about?” Wonder Woman threw her hands in the air from disbelief.

“I don’t believe they come from the underworld, but John would be a better judge then me,” Zatara looked towards the brit.

“I don’t know nothing bout them mate. Prolly best to leave them be for now,” John shrugged, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from some his ‘coworkers’ with trust issues.

“I’ll look more into them,” Zatara nodded. “Find out if they become a threat.” He assured the league.

“We’ll be looking into the lantern database and getting contact with others, find out if anyone knows anything,” Jon agreed, nodding towards Hal. All three getting up to leave the table.

“Well, if that’s all I’ll be on my bloody way. Drag me out of my house for notin,” John muttered angrily.

“Actually, John if you wouldn’t mind having a conversation with me?” Zatara asked, waving him over.

“Fine,” the brit groaned, getting a pack of his smokes out, lighting one up within the watchtower, ignoring glares he was getting from the three top dogs.

Zatara had taken John to a lone room, nothing really in it besides a desk, a few chairs, and one small couch, it was clearly only a room used for conversations.

“What’s this bout?” John wondered.

“You know something about those creatures,” Zatara stated firmly.

“I know nothin bout nothin,” John nodded, not agreeing with the magician’s statement.

“Oh please, you’re eyes widened when you saw the pictures. If you know something it should be shared. I will not reveal your secrets, however if you refuse to say anything it will just cause everyone, including me, to dig deeper into them.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise. They could be dangerous.”

John laughed at that statement. “If that’s all I’m leaving.” Zatara was ready to fight back but looking up he discovered to see the brit gone.

***

“Danny mate pick up your damn phone!” John yelled at the blasted thing from his third time calling his old friend, now pacing around the old House of Mystery. Grabbing the full glass of scotch that the house kindly made for him.

“Sorry John. I was in a meeting,” Danny smiled into the phone. He may be a supernatural being, but he still had plenty to use of his fourteen-year-old mind, an age he hasn’t been for many years.

“Danny you bloody idiot! I thought that you were keeping them under control!” John yelled into the phone, surprising Danny.

“Don’t you dare yell at me John Constantine!” Danny yelled back into the phone, stopping him in his place.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Danny boy. The Justice League just got on my bloody ass about your spooks. Bats is ready to go to war with them,” John sat down in his chair.

“Want to summon me? We can talk about it?” Danny asked into the phone, both knew the undertones of the conversation.

“Things never go right when I summon you,” John refused to look towards a picture of him and Danny. The old ghost laughing, his baby face unable to grow much facial hair, as John cheered a beer, a smile on his face as well. It was one of their first nights out together in the human world.

“But it’s fun. No funny business this time?” Danny offered.

“Now you’re just tempting fate love,” John grinned into his scotch.

“You’re easy to tempt,” Danny nodded in agreement, both understanding the silent message.

Grabbing a piece of green glowing chalk John stumbled towards an empty part of his floor, no need to look up the sigils Danny choose for his summoning. He didn’t understand most of them, but the guy laughed every time he appeared in the human realm, a silent joke that only he knows. He remembers one drunken night when Danny tried to explain, he got nowhere with the brit.

“Numquam agnus dabo te

numquam agnus dimittam te

numquam amet discurrere et deseram te

numquam agnus fac te clamare

numquam agnus dicere vale

numquam agnus dic mendacium et nocuerunt tibi”

John, always confused by the spell, spoke it loud and clear, letting the candles and lights around the house dance as the green fire descended from the hells, lighting up the circle, leaving in a swirl with a half ghost king, smiling and evil smile at him.

“You summoned me,” Danny stepped out of the circle, walking closer to John.

“I summoned you,” he agreed, the mood much different from their business meeting they had just yesterday. John’s breathing becoming deeper and heavier the closer Danny stepped towards him. It forever amazed him that the ghost could become bigger or smaller with just a thought.

“I promised no funny business,” Danny noted, his half breaths just as deep.

“Screw that!” John declared, pushing their lips together, creating a fire between the two. A fire that would not let out till the two were done.

This was routine for when John summoned Danny. A routine that neither is sure how it started, but neither regret. They both agree it’s just sex. No feelings need to be mixed in, but John can’t help the flutter in hie heart when he thinks about everything that Danny does for him. Keeping him updated, collecting his soul contracts, giving him this. It was everything that he could dream about.

“Do you want to stop?” Danny asked carefully, his breath on John’s.

“If you stop, I will exorcize you,” John glared at the ghost.

“Fair enough,” Danny laughed, the two stumbling towards John’s room in the old mystery house.

The next day, both barely clothed, wrapped up in blankets and each other, John woke up, staring at Danny, tracing his fingers over the old, faded scars.

“You’re staring again,” Danny’s eyes fluttered open.

“You make it hard not to,” John grinned at him, turning around in the bed to light a cigarette.

“You said my subjects are hurting the humans,” Danny started to sit up in the bed, the ring of rage glowing proudly on his finger.

“I never said hurting. I keep an eye on them for you here. I promised, didn’t I?” John turned towards him, clearly understanding that this is no longer pleasure, only business.

“Then what was the call about?” Danny raised an eyebrow, getting up from the bed in a way only one trained in royalty could. John thought that he was beautiful.

“Bats called in a meeting. Trying to figure out where they came from. I was honest. Told them they ain’t form the underworld. Bloody Zatara caught me. Wanted to know how I recognized them. Refused to tell him that they were looking for limbo. I made a promise to ya Danny boy and I intend to keep it,” John tapped his cigarette on the ashtray he keeps by the bed. Watching as Danny slowly dressed himself in his torn-up jeans and shirt, a jacket going with it. One would never think he was dead, much less royalty.

“Do you want me to talk to them?” Danny asked.

“Do you want to talk to them?” John uno reversed him.

“I’m free in two days. I’ll calm down the Justice League,” Danny snapped his fingers, disappearing in green fire, just the same as he arrived. John knows that when he walks back to his living room all evidence of his summoning will be gone as well.

“Damn. You have it bad,” a voice laughed from the living room.

“Damn it!” John shouted, face turning red from anger as he shut his bedroom door, a door that was not shut last night, as he quickly got dressed, stomping back into the living room. “Chas. What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“Checking up on you. Someone has to,” he shrugged. “Haven’t seen you be like that with someone in forever. So, when’s the next date?” Chas teased.

“Sod off Chas. We’re not dating,” John waved him away, grabbing a cold beer.

“Sure. You only look the people you shag like that because no feelings are attached,” Chas nodded, clearly sarcastic.

“He doesn’t want a relationship. He just wants to make sure I keep his subjects out of trouble while in the human realm. Nothing more nothing less,” John took a big gulp of beer.

“Have either of you ever actually talked about this?” Chas asked.

“C’mon mate. We’ve never talked about it because there is nothing to talk about,” John yelled. “We meet in his realm at a set time we talk. If something comes up, I can call him,” John shrugged.

“so, nothing ever happened while in his realm?” Chas raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing worth bringing up in conversation,” John argued back, the jar that contains his soul in the back of his mind.

“Sure,” Chas snorted, clearly not believing him. “I’ll leave you. Just. Don’t ruin this for yourself John. You are clearly happy with him and that doesn’t happen often with you,” Chas walked out of the house, leaving John by himself, only the house to keep him company.

“I don’t like him. I can’t like him. Why would I even like him?” John asked himself and the house. “The guy only rescues my soul every chance he can get. He willingly comes to visit the human realm for me. He willingly gave me his summoning. “Fuck!” John shouted, realization hitting him.

Panic still fresh in his brain he called up Batman. “I have news about the creatures. Meeting in two days.” John didn’t give the guy a chance to reply, closing his phone and ending the call. He has two days to get his body ass unsober as possible before he has to see Danny again.

***

“Alright bats. Everyone here?” John asked, appearing once again on the table, the annoyance clear on Superman’s face.

“You have news about the strange creatures?” Batman asked, coming from him however, everyone knew that it was an order.

“Yeah yeah. I’ll get to that. Move out of the way people,” John only got down form the table to put his bag down, grabbing the green glowing chalk, and walking back up on the table, aware that he has other magic user’s eyes on him. Writing the familiar symbols, he knew by heart. He still had the old book on his shelf, but he has no use for it.

“Be prepared mates. He’s a tad dramatic,” John warned, muttering the same summoning from before. His eyes turning white as green flames enveloped the room, clearly it was done in a more dramatic way for the audience the two have present.

“Numquam agnus dabo te

numquam agnus dimittam te

numquam amet discurrere et deseram te

numquam agnus fac te clamare

numquam agnus dicere vale

numquam agnus dic mendacium et nocuerunt tibi”

Unlike yesterday where all Danny was wearing was ripped jeans, a t-shirt full of small holes and a warm jacket, today he was draped in armor of black, white, and ecto green. The crown of fire worn proudly at the top of his head and the ring of rage glowing proudly on his finger. Fire forming under his feet as he took steps down the table. John had to take a smirk at how Danny presented himself. This is the same person who tripped over his feet walking in a straight line the other week, crashing his face right into ghost rocks. It never amazed John that Danny could present himself this way, but no one could deny the affect that it had.

“Who are you?” Batman asked, taking the lead as usual.

“Did you not explain to them?” Danny’s voice now held an echo to it, a few leaguers unsure if they were hearing him correctly.

“Sorry love figured you would love to do the honors,” John waved him off, taking a seat.

“I am Phantom. King of the Infinite Realms. John Constantine is the watcher of the human realm for me. He has informed me that the “Justice League” was getting curious about my subjects,” Danny chooses his words carefully. John snorted at his phrasing of the Justice League. “My subjects are not causing lasting harm to any humans. No humans have been injured from them or have been killed. There should be no reason that this club house is looking into my subjects,” Danny’s eyes glowed a deep green, clearly angry about the accusations he has formed in his mind.

“We never claimed that your subjects have injured anybody. We were just concerned. These are new creatures. No one knew of them, and we wanted to make sure they were not a risk,” Wonder Woman was quick to jump in.

“Hah!” Danny grinned, showing his fangs in full view. “My subjects are not new. Most have been around longer then you have been alive. It is your ignorance that has made you assume such a thing.” John knows that if this was with just the two of them alone Danny would have cracked some stupid joke like, “You know what assuming does right? Make an ass out of you and me! Ha! Come on John! It’s funny!”

“I’m sorry?” Wonder Woman was confused.

“My subjects are mostly ghost. Spirits who have refused to pass on. Spirits who have been formed from human ideals. Death, Nocturne, and Time. These are all spirits that have been formed from the thoughts of humans. They will live as long as their ideas live on. There are ones that form naturally, there are ones who have died and left this world, unable to move on they come to my realm. They come back to finish what they started, their right to, or to just cause petty mischief, something they need to do to survive. I keep an eye on every single one in the human realm. From now on if there is an issue you go straight to John. Do I make myself clear?” There was a fire burning in Danny’s eyes as he turned around, stomping out, not wanting to hear any more questions.

“Guess I have no choice but to follow his highness,” John sounded like he was mocking the king, but he knows that if Chas was here, he would call John out on his bullshit quicker then he could snap.

“Did you see their faces?” Danny smiled, as John grabbed Danny’s arm, easily bringing them back to the house of mystery.

“They believe that you are a ruthless tyrant who cares only for his people,” John agreed, pouring himself a drink.

“Pour me one. I know it’s great isn’t it! I worked all day with Ember to get that speech perfect!” Danny’s grin couldn’t get wider, John handed him the drink, watching as Danny drank it with ease.

“Listen Danny boy,” John started, happy that he had the famous liquid courage to help him In this moment.

“What is it, John?” Danny looked up from his drink. There were no problems. The Justice League was handled. What else could there be.

“Mate- Love. It has come to my attention that we might have to rethink our situation John tried, not fully sure how to get the words out.

“You’re going to have to be clearer with me John,” Danny crossed his legs, floating in midair as if Gravity didn’t exist.

“Love I-“John’s throat stopped, not letting him get the words out. “Damn it!” John chugged the rest of his drink, cursing the heavens at his predicament. “Danny I- “once again he was stopped by himself, his beer not helping him at all.

Tired of trying with words, John did the next best thing, he let his actions speak for him. Grabbing Danny, pulling him close, no lust in the moment, unlike a few days ago, he took a deep hopeful breath and pushed a messy kiss upon the half ghost. “Danny, I like you,” John was finally able to whisper.

“Took you long enough mate,” Danny’s smile was wide and hopeful, grabbing John’s neck to kiss him once again. John knows that he’s in for a lifetime of puns, but he is kissing Danny, kissing the half ghost he doesn’t regret a single thing.

[mikobeautifulheart]

7 minutes in panic. College Gojo x reader

1700 WORDS EXACTLY.

The one time you decide to go to a party, it goes wrong.

TW: Use of drugs (U get drugged) and are stuck in a small closet for 7 minutes. (Btw there is no smut, just fluff)

UNEDITED AND VERY SELF INDULGET so it might not make much sense?

You had never been to a party before, let alone one in a cramped dorm spilling with people, even some of them in the hallway standing, drinking, talking and shamelessly making out. 

This is probably what you expected but you couldn't help but feel nervous, god why did you go alone? Was it because you're only 2 reliable friends who knew it was a dumb idea-

Walking down the hallway the smell of sweat and alcohol got stronger filling your lungs almost making you get drunk in the air. Why did you even come? Whatever it's too late to turn back might as well commit.

The room was cramped and the music was muffled by all the people surrounding the speaker. You walked toward the counter and picked up a red cup, typical just like the movies, but nothing bad or dramatic is going to happen to you, right? You held the cup awkwardly looking at your hands, almost hesitating to drink the contents, you didn't know what was in it and the smart people would have their suspicions about it, but why worry? You were to stressed anyway you needed a break.

As much as you didn't mind the workload, you loathed the assigned partnered assignments because you were always paired with Gojo.

You already knew him through your other friends, Geto and Shoko.

You didn't mind always being paired with him and he always did his work load, sometimes you'd have to do a bit of his part but he would always thank you with a surprise, usually some sweets.

The worst part was just that he was...hot. He always made your heart forget how to function when you two work together.

‘“And what are you doing here? I thought you weren't the one to frequent parties?” You were snapped out of your imagination only to be faced with someone's chest- you looked up and wow… it was him, Gojo.

“Uh well um I just, its,” you let out an airy laugh trying to distract him from the blush on your face. 

“I don't have anything to work on right now so I thought id give it a shot…” You subconsciously took a drink out of the cup you were holding, breaking eye contact with him.

“I can tell '' he laughed and smiled pleasantly toward you.

Oh gosh if only you'd have a chance, he's not top of the class but he is smart when he really thinks and a sports legend. His biceps easily make its presence known out of the short sleeved shirt that fit him all too well. He was the dream guy, but you, you thought you were nothing compared to him.

You didn't love yourself but you didn't hate yourself, you sort of just accepted the way you look so you just worked with it.

You turned to leave the party as you heard someone yell

"SPIN THE BOTTLE" followed by loads of cheers.

“Leaving already?” He said with his brows furrowed

“Uh I think i'm going to get some air, it's hot in here” you flashed a smile.

You started to push your way through the crowd. It was rough but then you felt a hand latch onto your wrist.

“Hold on tight” Gojo looked at you before guiding you through the many, many people.

Your heart nearly burst. You eventually reached a window putting your elbows down on the window sill and placing your head in your hands.

“I saw your last basketball game, nice win” You said, giving him a smile before turning your head up to the sky.

“You-you watched my game?”

You looked at him puzzled until you saw him rubbing the back of his neck with a blush creeping up his neck.

“Uh yeah you looked really good to” You said

“LOOKED GOOD PLAYING-” Trying to save yourself from the embarrassing comment you let slip out. Must have been the drink making you lose focus.

There was silence in the air then you heard two familiar voices, it was Geto and Shoko singing along terribly to the song playing with slurred words and drunk voices. 

“I think i'm going to head in again, are you coming? Totally fine if you're not you don't have too” Gojo said looking to the side trying to avoid your gaze.

"I wouldn't mind that'' you said, waking up beside him taking your opportunity.

The door is pushed open and you walk over to Geto and Shoko, you told them you were going with Gojo and might leave early so they wouldn't worry about you.

You mentioned something about Gojo before the room erupted with a mixed reaction of jealousy and excitement. Looking back from your side there it was… a bottle pointing at you. Puzzled you follow the gazes of the room until you realised it was Gojo on the other side of the room looking at you. He was the one that had spun the bottle and accidently roped you into the game "7 minutes in heaven". A guy drags you and Gojo by the wrists and pushed both you guys in a closed down the hallway from the party.

It was dusty and small but still enough space for you to lean against the wall and have one step of space between the two of you. A lock sound was heard outside the door. This was it you were stuck.

"Ha...sorry you are here right now I didn't mean it." Gojo said looking at you in the dark.

You fidgeted in the dark unconfutably. How do you even stand here with the guy you like and do nothing?

“Relax.” The sudden feeling of his head into the crook of your neck threw you off.

You leaned in wrapping your arms around his torso muffling a quick “I like you”.

Oh god, what did you do? You really shouldn't havce come tonight.

You felt him sink into your neck even more and muffle a

“I like you too”. 

You could feel it reverberate against your skin. Gojo slowly pulled back, your body warmth suddenly dropped and you were cold but that didn't matter right now. The urge to kiss him was unbearable.

You leaned in a little closer a jolt of shock ran through your nerves and you felt your legs give way, you couldn't stand up properly and slowly fell forward into Gojo's chest.

“Are-e you okay?!?” he said voice shaky as he held you up and spotted a bit of blood trickling down your lips. 

“I can't feel my legs, I think I'm going to pass out-” you gasped at the sharp pain in your throat causing more blood to trickle down your bottom lip.

“It must have been the drink” he swiftly picked you up bridal style (yessss -////-).

Someone had spiked your drink with how knows what and what it and what they planed to do when it came into effect. It had only been 4 minutes out of the 7 so the door was still locked.

“SOMEBODY OPEN THIS UP” Gojo yelled while kicking at the door.

It wouldn't budge and everything around you went fuzzy. Gojo could feel you going limp in his arms and in panic he kicked the closet door one last time with all his strength.

The door flew the hinges and walked out trying to keep you awake and responding. As he carried you down the hallway there were whispers and snickers.

“Hey man, I can take her from here. She just needs to sleep so hand here over and just enjoy the party.” A seemingly drunk dude said.

“I don't think I will, now move.” Barging past the man harshly quickening his pace to his apartment not too far off campus. It must have been the guy, he must have spiked all the drinks.

The moon shone and your breath slowed down along with your heart rate, everything was foggy but you tried your best to stay awake as you clung onto Gojo’s shirt. 

“Hang in there” He said as he unlocked the door and sat you on his kitchen counter. You were struggling to sit up straight and not fall over while clinging on to the edge of the counter.

the sounds of quick opening and closing of the draws and cupboards filled the room. The tap was on and there were stirring sounds, it was safe to say you had no idea what was going on and your dazed state wasn't helping. 

“Drink this.” he held the cup up to your lips and you drank it, you were too weak to even refuse. Not that you wanted to anyway.

You drank it all and your head leaned into Gojo's back as he placed the cup down on the opposite counter.

You wrapped your arms around him and mumbled a ‘Thanks’ he turned around carefully holding your face in his hands. The blood coming from your lip had dried, he leaned in closer to your face.#

Was it wrong to kiss you now? You were still dazed, but he couldn't help it when you leaned in your head closer and said

“It’s okay” while your vision slowly flooded back, thank goodness that Gojo took notes and remembered the lectures in chemistry with you when you both did the assignment.

Leaning in Gojo looks past you out to the window outside, it began sprinkling and you were in no way in any shape or form, able to walk back to campus in the weather soon to come.

He was so absorbed with his thoughts that he failed to notice his lips brush up against yours.

His eyes widened but when you did pull away he went straight in for it your arms around his neck lazily hanging off his shoulders as one hand supported you back and his other holding the back of your head gently. He slowly pulled back and watched your eyes flutter open, the sight made his heart skip.

“You don't think you'll regret this?” Gojo said with his attention all on you pending for your answer.

“Best first kiss of my life” you smiled at him before pulling him in again by his collar.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: This was very self indulgent. Not my best work but I'll post it just for fun. I haven't written a Gojo fic yet so this isnt totaly great but its an okay start ig. Reblogs r welcomed and thanks for reading.

EDIT: When people ask what my greatest accomplishment is, it's 100% the fact that ponderingmoonlight liked my fic. No hesitation.

[yeeterthek33per]

It's Only Up From Here (Steph Catley x Caitlin Foord x Reader)

A/n id just like to say, poor Cait man, girl's got a goose egg and for what? The ref to play blind person when she gets fouled again?

You'll bounce back part 4, have fun!

Sorry y'all, I'm still salty. At least she got a free hat, though... right?

Also, 18+ (teeny bit)

You'd all played your hearts out. It wasn't supposed to end this way. Everything just slipped away way too quickly.

One goal from Asllani was enough to drop the shoulders of the most energetic people on the field. Some of the team still had a fire going, but in the end, nobody could convert anything.

Sam ended up worse off than when she started, and the stubborn idiot begged Tony to keep her on. She couldn't jump to meet headers where she needed to, and no crosses were where any of you needed to send them.

The weight of the game was certainly a massive lot, but in the end, all you could feel was disbelief but also relief. Relief, the whole thing was finally over. Relief that you could go back to your club and just play without so much stress.

Plus, you only had your transfer to worry about now. Luckily enough, Arsenal quickly accepted your manager's ask to join the club.

As much as you loved playing in sweden with your family, you loved your girls and wanted to move in with them, and this was the next big step for the three of you.

Still, the weight of the loss would bare down on you all for months to come, if not the years until the next world cup began, and even then, would you still succeed like you did?

Would the country still love you all enough to support you, then?

Would you even make the team? You know you're only twenty-seven, but still, you never know.

The crowd applauds you as you move around the field. Everything just feels like it's on a flow at this point. Nothing's really registering. You thank the fans, and give away your shirt and boots to the crowd.

Walking around in shorts and a sports bra, taking photos with fans, signing gear, everything just goes in one swift motion.

Steph just looks purely exhausted as she walks around the field. Tear stained face since she can no longer fight them, the battle for the cup finally over for you all.

Caitlin just looks blank, eyes empty as she gives away her boots and shakes hands with the swedes.

You hug Magda, congratulating her on the win as she consoles you for the loss. Having known each other briefly at Chelsea, where you spent about a six month stint on loan, playing in the midfield.

You tell her to say hi to Pernille for you, and you part ways, walking over to where your team is gathering for the circle. You all watch the swedish team receive their medals, celebrating the third place win for the fourth time.

Sam is sitting on the bench, away from the group, but still aplauding the effort.

You meet her eye, and all you can see is the disappointment and what is most likely building frustration at tweaking her calf again.

You knew she didn't blame Magda for it. It was a rough game, and tensions were high, and there was no way it was intentional.

You get up from your position on the grass to go to her, slipping into the seat beside her, arm around her shoulders.

You don't say anything. There isn't really anything you can console your best friend and captain with at this point.

She just leans into you until it's time to go to back into the locker room with one final wave and the last of media duties.

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

Steph and Caitlin are both pretty much going through the motions by the end of the night. You know they're hurting, and everything just feels so tense.

By the end of team dinner, they're both silent, and you can only give them small back rubs and smiles to encourage them a bit as you all process the loss. The others are slowly back to conversing normally. Some are still barely processing.

Mini is sat by Kyra and Charlie, the three doing their best to keep a happy face for Harper, to which you do wander over eventually, giving the girl a small tickle and kiss on the cheek.

You hug Mini from behind the couch she's sitting on, pressing a small kiss to her cheek as well, and pat Charlie and Kyra on the shoulders as you pull away.

You head up towards your room, wanting to call it an early night. Normally, you'd go to Caitlin and Steph's room, but Steph stayed behind with the girls, and Caitlin looked like she wanted to be alone for the night.

However, you're proven wrong when a hand grabs yours to walk you back to her room.

The moment you're in the door, her face is buried in your neck, and her hands slip under the back of your hoodie, holding you tight to her.

Your arms slip under hers, wrapping up around her shoulders, and you bury your nose into her left.

"Hey, pretty girl."

She just grunts into your neck.

You pull her away enough to have a look at her face. The bandage is still over her brow, but it's looking like a massive goose egg now and starting to bruise over her eye.

You let your hand brush her hair back.

"How's your head feel?"

"Meh, it's fine. They want me on the usual concussion watch. Hurts a little, but it's not that bad."

You smile softly, but it feels more like a grimace, so you lean up and press a light kiss to the bandage.

"Man, they were really going in on you tonight, weren't they? They should have let Mini and me fight Asllani earlier."

She cracks a smile at that

"No fighting, babe, we don't need more black eyes."

You raise a brow at her.

"You're the one telling me that?"

She chuckles a little.

"Also, you're assuming we'd lose." You playfully pout.

She pulls you down onto her lap as she steps back towards the bed.

"Pft, I know damn well you'd sit her on her ass. That doesn't mean you need to, though. I also didn't mention who would get a black eye in that scenario."

You giggle and lean down, careful not to bump her head and kiss her softly. Her hands slip up underneath the back of your t-shirt, and you sigh when she caresses your lower back.

One of her hands trails down and slips underneath the waistband of your sports sweats and gently squeezes your ass.

You huff against her, smacking her arm lightly as she gets a cheeky smirk on her face the moment you pull away.

"What? Not even one for the shiner?"

You chuckle, poking her in the sternum.

"No baby, besides, no strenuous activity on concussion watch."

"Who said I was the one cumming later?"

She wiggles her eyebrows but winces slightly after. You just shake your head lightly.

"My point exactly, you won't stop at just one. Also, stop moving your brows. You know it doesn't help."

Caitlin just looks up at you again with a mischievous twinkle.

"Kiss me better?"

You roll your eyes at her, but lean down to take her lips with your own anyway.

Her hands move from under your shirt at the back to the front, scratching gently down your stomach. You shiver but stand your ground, keeping the kiss light.

You know you're a gonner the moment she runs her tongue along your bottom lip.

You both pull away for a second, and her lips trail down your throat and your eyes close at the contact. Her teeth nip at your collarbone, and your hands settle on her shoulders as hers slip further up your shirt and under your sports bra.

"Jesus, baby, if we get caught again, this one's on you." You're panting along side the words.

Your hips rock softly against her, and the smug look in her eyes tells you she really doesn't care about being caught.

She tugs at your shirt and pulls it over your head, letting her hand dip below your pants waistband. Her head dips lower to press kisses across the top of your chest, just above the elastic.

Right as her fingertips slip below the band of your sports boxers, the door opens behind you both, making you jump slightly.

Caitlin quickly tosses you beneath her, shielding you from view with a small curse.

When you both realise it's only Steph, you relax.

"Hey, sweetheart."

She raises a brow at the two of you, shutting the door behind her. You stand up to meet her with a small peck to the lips, but her smile doesn't quite meet her eyes.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Your hands rub her arms softly, a small frown taking your features as you watch her. She's exhausted and looks just about torn down completely.

"How you feeling?"

"Still just kind of processing, same as the others, though."

A small sigh leaves her lips as she leaves one last peck to yours before stepping past you to see Caitlin.

She kisses the striker softly, murmuring asking about her head.

"Doing fine, babe, usual concussion watch. She's pretty, though, ain't she?"

Steph chuckles softly at her and presses a kiss to the bandage as well, and plops down onto the bed face down.

You and Caitlin exchange looks, and you urge Steph up the bed, but she just grumbles softly, legs still hanging over the edge.

"Baby, C'mon, you gotta move, or it's really gonna hurt tomorrow."

She says something, but it's just muffled as she's buried face first into the bed.

Caitlin sighs, brushing Steph's hair to the side as she turns her head.

"It's gonna hurt anyways." It's said a soft whine, but you know what she means when she says it.

You sit on the other side of her and rub her back gently.

"I know, baby, but you have to at least give yourself a decent night's rest, okay?"

She grunts, shuffling up the bed but doesn't move from her face-down splat position.

A loving half smile encompasses Caitlin's lips, and she scoots along the bed to sit up against the headrest, lifting Steph's arm to rest over her legs, and she rubs it gently.

You do the same, knowing you have to stay up to make sure Caitlin can complete her concussion checks every few hours, setting your phone alarm to wake you up if you drift off, knowing you can turn the alarm off beforehand if you're still awake.

Steph squeezes both your thighs softly, but does manage to turn onto her side to rest her head on your lap, arm draped over your legs.

Caitlin shoves a pillow behind her head and quickly drifts off, and you lean her slightly more inwards to not let her fall off the bed.

Your hand combs through Steph's hair, scratching lightly at her scalp as you scroll through your phone.

Various messages of encouragement, and others saying thanks. Thank you to the Matildas. Thank you to the family you're a part of. Describing your team's efforts as heroic and forever in commemoration as they dedicate their cheers to the team.

You can only thank whatever deity above brought this country to love you all like they do.

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

Throughout the night, Caitlin's concussion checks go without issue. Though she does get a little grumpy after the fifth time and then almost doesn't bother answering you the sixth.

By the seventh and final check, she just shoves you grumpily before you quietly flick her and remind her she's only putting her own health at risk here and that you just wont let her sleep at all as that's the only other procedure.

You finally get her to answer the questions at that.

Steph, somehow, it's a miracle, honestly, stays asleep throughout this whole debacle, and you magically stay awake until 7am where the trainer's come knocking to collect Caitlin, and to let you sleep for a few hours before you have to be up for the ceremony.

Steph latches back onto you the moment you settle in the bed, and she lets you sleep for another half hour after she's woken up.

-----------

After the whole presentation and Steph and the rest of you are pleasantly surprised by her favourite song's artist, Nikki Webster, you're all exhausted and ready to crash again.

Tony allows the day to rest and relax off the game before an early morning recovery session the next day.

You spend it curled up with your favourite girls, Caitlin now safely away from any concussion worries.

You end up waking in the late afternoon from your long nap. Steph is seated beside you on her phone, hand rubbing circles in your back.

Caitlin is in the bathroom showering.

"Hey you."

You hum softly, stretching out slightly before relaxing back into matress below you.

"Afternoon, I assume?"

"Yeah, you didn't sleep too long, it's only been about five hours."

"Mmkay, did Mini stop by at all?"

"Yeah, she was looking for you since you didn't return to the room with her last night. She figured you'd be here. She said if you woke up within a few hours, she'd be downstairs in the rec room with Harper and the girls."

"Oky." You kind of half process it in your sleepy state, nuzzling your nose into the side of Steph's leg. She only looks on amused around her phone at you.

"You gonna go down?"

You make a half committed answer, shrugging lightly, just cuddling into her leg further. Her hand scratches at the back of your neck lightly.

Steph just sighs, knowing you won't sleep later but doesn't have it in her to wake you when you dose off again.

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With the next days passing by, final preparations are made to pack up camp and to go back to your respective clubs before the next one.

You all take the time to grieve the loss, and you even manage to break through to Sam a little, catching her alone and having a sit down conversation with her about everything.

She let's you know the next day how thankful she is for your little shoves over the last few days and getting her walls to come down.

You just remind her that that's what best friends are for.

Steph and Caitlin come to terms with it on their own, and you make sure you're there to wipe away any tears.

You'd already made your peace, ready to start the next chapter with your loves and ready to move on to the Olympic qualifiers.

You hope with all your heart that you can fight harder and go all the way this time.

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Sorry, this one is a little lacking, guys. I swear I was trying to find a way to end it without cutting it short, but it kind of carries on towards the end. Again, apologies for that.