#maybe i could email her and tell her id like to change it.. no

[szappan]

university.. university leave me alone

[bruhnze]

BOXING LESSONS - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Fluff with a bit of smut, inspired by these pics cause holy hell their arms uhggg, they are fs in boxing lessons together. (imagine watching that, pff id die on the spot).

Summary: Lucy gets a substitute coach for her boxing lessons, but now it's a women, Ona gets jealous.

Wordcount: a very long one sorry; about 3600

Warnings: 18 and up, minors dni, fictional story.

BOXING LESSONS - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

/// 13:04 ///

Lucy and Ona came back from morning training to eat lunch at home. It was one o’clock and they had a rare free afternoon. Usually they wouldn’t be done until three, four or even five in the afternoon.

While eating lunch they discussed their activities. Lucy had her boxing lesson, what she tried to do atleast once a week and Ona wanted to go to the beach with Coco and Narla.

‘’So you have a substitute teacher today?’’ Ona asked.

‘’Yep, got an email from Mateo, him and his wife are dealing with some personal difficulty’s and that’s why someone else will come today, and he said if i like them, i could continue my year with them otherwise it’ll still be Mateo but then we’ll have to make effort with the scheduling’’.  Lucy stated.

‘’Well maybe the sub is better than Mateo, cause you said you needed more challenge, no?’’ Ona said.

‘’Yeah’’ Lucy sighed ‘’i didn’t have the heart to tell him, he seemed so distracted lately, so maybe it is for the better, i’m curious about the replacement tho, hope their good’’.

Ona laughed, ‘’i cant wait to hear your stories when we’re back’’

/// 13:48 ///

While Ona got the dogs leashed up and gathered some stuff to take to the beach, Lucy cleared the table and cleaned the kitchen. She tried to keep up with chores now that Ona practically lived with her, when she lived on her own ,she sometimes left the dishes for a day until she got to them.

But Ona liked the kitchen to be clean and Lucy knew that a happy wife, meant a happy life and it helped that she seemed to earn points with Ona everytime she did something around the house.

After the kitchen was spotless she walked to the bedroom, Ona was changing into a bikini. Lucy stripped aswell, but only to change into her gym clothing.

They looked at eachother while getting dressed ‘’it’s a shame we have to go’’ Lucy swooned while closing the gap between her and Ona, now both fully clothed again.

‘’ I can reschedule my appointment with the beach’’ Ona kissed Lucy briefly ‘’but it is probably better that you’re not late with your potential new coach’’.

Lucy kissed her back and sighed ‘’Yeah probably’’.

They gathered their stuff and walked to their cars. Lucy carried the bags while Ona held the leashes with the dogs.

Lucy helped her girlfriend settle everything in her car and gave her one more kiss ‘’see you in few, don’t forget to relax and maybe take some cute pictures of our little ones’’.

Ona smiled ‘’ I will, good luck with your lesson, don’t act too tough, watch your knee and also have fun’’

‘’Thanks mom’’ Lucy laughed causing Ona to push her away. ‘’Sorry that i care about you, stupid, no go before you will be late’’ with that Ona closed her car door.

Lucy waved and then sprinted to her own car, chugging her sports bag on the passenger seat. She connected her phone to the car to put some music on and drove off.

/// 17:04 ///

Ona had been tanning for a few hours almost ready to go back home again, the dogs were still playing with eachother in the sand, until she rembered Lucy asking for some photos.

She put her clothes back on and snapped some pics of the dogs from different angles. When she thought she got some decent ones she packed her stuff and leashed the dogs.

In the car the dogs layed passed out on the backseat, completely worn out by their beach adventure. Ona got behind the wheel and took a selfie of her with the dogs in the background.

She went through her photos and selected one of Narla, one of Coco, one of them together and the picture she just took to send to Lucy.

@Ona: *shared 4 pictures*

@Ona: we had a great time🏖️🏖️

@Ona: we''ll be home in 25

/// 17:58 ///

After Lucy stepped out of her second shower that day, she had put on a black tanktop and grey sweats and got her phone from her bag. Her and Valentina, as the substitute turned out to be called, had lost track of time a bit.

Her phone was full of incoming messages like usual and as usual one name stood out, Ona, she had sent something a while ago. Lucy opened the message and saw the photos, she read that Ona would be home in 25 minutes, she checked the time and realised how late it actually was.

She texted back.

@LucyB: hi bb, cute pics, they look exausthed

@LucyB: did you have them do laps up and down the dunes😂

@LucyB: anyway i’ll be home soon x, just showerd, sry we lost track of time.

Ona answered right away.

@Ona:nw, im making dinner, i think it will be done when you are here

@Ona: so new coach is good?

@LucyB: yeah she’s great, ill tell u bout her when im back

@Ona: drive safely , see u soon

Lucy was tempted to reply -yes mom- but instead she went for a simple heart emoji.

/// 18:43 ///

Lucy stepped in to their apartment and she immediately put her sports bag in the hall closet and threw her dirty sportswear in the laundry basket. Then she walked to the kitchen. ‘’Hola’’

‘’Hi’’ Ona smiled up, she was on her phone standing next to the oven  ‘’a few more minutes until its done’’.

Lucy stepped into her girlfriends space ‘’I have experienced better greetings, I don't even get a kiss?’’ Lucy pouted.

Ona looked up now and had to laugh ‘’ofcourse you get a kiss, sorry i was just watching something a-

Ona became silent and blushed, her eyes landing on lucy's upper body, specifically her arms.

She put her phone on the counter and held out her hands and took a bicep in each.

‘’Meu forta guapa’’ she grinned appreciatively.

Lucy looked at her confused but smiley, her spanish was okay but her Catalan not yet ‘’what? guapa i know but forta?’’

‘’I called u fit, forta is like strong’’ Ona said while tracing her hands over Lucy’s shoulders and biceps. ‘’I like this top, it looks nice on you.’’

Lucy grinned ‘’Fit hmm, soc de teva núvia forta y sexy?’’ (am i your strong sexy girlfriend) she tried in her broken Catalan.

Ona smiled, Lucy knew it got her weak in the knees when she talked, or atleast tried to talk in catalan, or spanish.

‘’Yeah’’ Ona said ‘’almost, its sóc la teva núvia forta i sexy?’’

‘’Yes you are, meu teva núvia forta i sexy’’ (my strong and sexy girlfriend) Lucy tried seductively.

Ona laughed ‘’Nice try but then its: la meva xicota forta i sexy’’.

Lucy groaned and looked up ‘’ugh i wish i would pick it up quicker, i want to be able to talk to you in your mother tongue’’

Ona held Lucy’s face ‘’I think you’re doing good, very good, you put in effort, and i mean, we have our whole lives to practice, right?’’

Lucy kissed her now, smiling into the kiss she talked as their lips were still connected ‘’are you asking to spent the rest of our lifes together?’’ then she pulled away and looked at Ona ‘’because, yes’’

Ona looked at her girlfriend with a wide smile on her face, ‘’no wasn’t a question, it was a promise, you will never get rid of me’’

‘’I dont want to, i’ll never will’’ Lucy cupped ona’s face and went in for another kiss, as the kiss became deeper and more heated, Ona pulled away suddenly.

‘’Lucy!’’ ona called out ‘’you distraced me, don’t you smell the oven?, quick!’’

They pulled out the tray with vegetables and chicken, it was a bit dark but they could stil eat it. They put everything on the table, including two bowls of rice and Lucy poured two drinks. Sparkling water with lemon and ice.

‘It looks good bub, thanks for making dinner’’ Lucy said as they took place at the table.

‘’no thanks, i'm happy to do it, would've been better if you hadn't distracted me, but okay, now tell me about your new teacher’’ Ona said as she started her meal ‘’If she is as bad as you at losing track of time in the gym i dont know if yous two are the best match’’ she laughed with her mouth full.

Lucy rolled her eyes and chewed until her mouth was empty before she spoke ‘’Valentina is her name, she was a professional, but because of injury she became a coach instead, the session was actually really refreshing, wayyy different from Mateo’s style. We first talked about my goal with boxing, she knew i’m a soccer player and then we talked about injurys for a bit and..,, yeah i don’t know actually, the time flew by, she got called actually, she had to go, so then i showered and saw your messages, but next week we planned a session together again.’’

Ona listened to Lucy, she was happy that Lucy had enjoyed herself but that the new coach was a women, that was something Ona was less happy with, she didn’t know why, but the way her girlfriend said -Valentina- got her feeling jealous.

‘’So how old is she’’

‘’huh? Who, Valentina?’’

There it was again, Ona felt it in her bones.

Lucy sighed ’’hmm, i don’t know actually, i guess about my age or something, maybe youger?’’ .. ‘’why’’ she said as she looked Ona straight in the eyes.

Recognising the fiery pupils that only came up when One was jealous.. wait.. was Ona jealous? Lucy thought by herself, why, how, she hadn't even seen Valentina.

‘’okay’’ Ona said poking at her food.

‘’Is someone a bit jealousss’’ Lucy laughed and stood up from the table standing behind Ona, she tickled her and kissed her neck ‘’You’re crazy Ona, my crazy little girlfriend’’ she kissed Ona’s cheek a few times and then flopped back in her chair.

She changed the subject by asking ‘’How was the beach’’  

/// 20:03 ///

‘’So you didn’t even swim huh?’’ Lucy asked

‘’nahhh’’ Ona laughed ‘’It’s nice out, but the sea is still wayy to cold’’

‘’did you know that Valentina swims in the seawater whole year round’’

‘’Does she now’’

‘’Yeah, i talked about my icebath, she said she wish she had space for an icebath but that her house is too small and thats why she just does morning plunges in the sea’’ Lucy said

‘’amazing’’ Ona couldn’t prevent the sarcastic tone it came out in.

Lucy laughed ‘’you don’t even know her, how are you already spiting the women’’

‘’well she seems to have made quite an impression on you, you hardly met her yourself and here you are Valentina this Valentina that’’ Ona couldn’t help pronouncing the name angry, she almost spat it out.

Lucy looked amused at her sputtering girlfriend ‘’why don’t you come with me, next week, then you will find out that you are worrying about nothing’’

Those words sparked Ona’s interest, next to meeting this mystery coach, she also had an opportunity to watch Lucy box, something she was farley interested in. She agreed ‘’yes, that could be fun’’

‘’Good’’ lucy said ‘’now, no more crazy talk’’

‘’Okay, but no more saying other people's names when!’’ One said sternly

Aha, Lucy thought, that was what had bothered Ona, she smirked, ‘’but i like saying Ona’’ she cheekily said, knowing full wel that was not what she meant.

‘’Other people!’’ Ona kicked Lucy under the table, ‘’im not other, im yours’’

‘’Hmm, damn right you are, come here’’, lucy said as she patted her lap.

//// The next week //// 19:16 ////

This session was at night, in the context of the other things they had that week Lucy had planned it that way deliberately. Lucy had sent a message to Valentina asking if it was okay if Ona came along for their session, to which the coach had reacted enthusiastically.

They stepped foot in the gym that Lucy was now a regular at since 2022, in the car Lucy had talked Ona through some of the basics but she had said that she was sure Ona would be a natural.

''Hello guys!'' a low voice called out.

''Hey Valentina'' Lucy said.

Ona stopped in her tracks as she faced the women, she had a completely different picture in her head than the woman with the high bun and undercut who stood in front of her. The woman had two tatted sleeves and she was wearing a muscle tee.

Lucy laughed not understanding why Ona had frozen up, she put a hand on her girlfriends shoulder and said: ''This is Ona, it's actually her first time boxing''. thinking perhaps Ona maybe went shy because she only now realized that she knew nothing about boxing.

Valentina walked over to the pair and put out her hand to shake Ona's ''Hi, im Valentina, you can call me Vale btw, and dont worry i love teaching rookies''

Ona put on a smile ''Good, I can't wait to learn''.

Ona laughed out loud on the inside, oh how she had misjudged this!

As they were warming up Vale was mostly giving attention to Ona, Lucy hadn't thought anything off it, after all, Ona was the beginner. Ona thought it was strange, she could do a warm-up.

Ona started to wonder if Vale was flirting with her when she felt her hand on her lower back for the umpteenth time this warming up and Vale kept coming close to explain things.

She tried to eye Lucy, who was completely caught up in her lunges.

''So are you a soccer player too?'' Vale asked.

''Yeah'' Ona anwsered ''Im with Barca, like Lucy, we're on the same team''.

''Ah so that's how you know her?''

''No, she, well it's a long story but Lucy is my girlfriend also'' Ona laughed akwardly ''It's kinda private though, that's why not everyone knows, but with the fans it's better that way''.

''Ah, thats a shame'' Vale smirked

''What'' Ona frowned, finding the smirk weirdly out of place.

''That the fans can be invasive'' ..''and that you have a girlfriend'' she quietly added, but loud enough for Ona to hear.

Ona knew she had not imagined it and was now stopping completely with the exercise she was doing..

Lucy walked over to them ''ah are you guys also done warming up, now we can start with the fun part'' she said while punching the air.

Ona and Vale laughed, Ona hoped Vale would get the hint and stop with her stupid behavior and they could just box.

While Lucy helped Vale get some gloves and wraps and two hand targets from the storage closet, Vale suggested Lucy and her could give Ona a demonstration of boxing first, a little sparring session, before teaching her.

Lucy agreed, as she liked the idea of Ona watching her and last week she and Vale had also finished with a friendly boxing match, which went quite well as Vale adapted to her pace.

Lucy showed Ona how to put on the wraps and gloves, while Vale helped her a bit. After that Valentine also put her gloves on and she explained the idea.

When they had been dancing around each other for a while and Lucy had done some blocking and hitting and Vale had dodged it and attacked back, going back and forth, things started to get a bit more intense.

Lucy was sweating and had a hard time keeping up with Valentina, she couldn’t help but think Vale was trying to show off. But if you knew Lucy at all, you knew she wasn't going to give up.

Ona had watched it all from the sidelines and couldn’t help but admire her girlfriend working hard in the ring, it was maybe even hotter than watching her play soccer.

A few minutes later, when she was forced into the corner and dived to avoid a blow, she thought it was enough and spoke up. ‘’Right, well I think we have showed Ona what boxing is like’’.

She looked at Ona and smiled, noticing concern on her face but also admiration.

Vale smiled ‘’yup, that was good, well done Luce’’, and held up her fist with the glove around it for Lucy to bump, Lucy looked back and gave in to fist bump her, even though she thought it was weird how Vale was behaving.

‘’Okay lets head over to the bags, and practice some punches’’ Vale said as she stepped out of the ring. She got her gloves of and took the hand targets in one hand and she put an arm around Ona to guide her to the punching bags.

Now Lucy was irritated, did Vale think Ona was just a friend of her or something, she should’ve clarified it when texting about bringing Ona. She quickened her pace to join the other two.

Valentina said to Lucy that she could start with Jabs on the brown bag and then do a drill of crosses and hooks.

Lucy sighed ‘’I think I still need to recover a bit from our session just now, I will do the drills in a second, maybe I can watch how my girlfriend does for a bit’’. She stared at Vale with those last words.

‘’Okay’’ Vale said without reacting ‘’Lets start with some easy drills for you’’.

//// 20:32 ////

Lucy was watching Valentina’s every move, it seemed as if she had completely ignored Lucy's comment and Lucy didn’t like it one bit.

Vale walked away for a second to grab some more attributes and Lucy got close to Ona, ‘’Hey, are you okay?’’

Ona smiled ‘’yeah the boxing is nice, I really like watching you box as well’’

‘’Do you think Valeria is acting strange?’’ Lucy questioned

Ona looked straight into Lucy’s eyes, ‘’Yeah do you notice it too? it kinda feel like she is hitting on me, I even told her you are my girlfriend and you just said it again’’.

Now Lucy's blood was boiling, at first she had thought it was all in her head, that she was just jealous, but now that Ona said she didn't feel comfortable, she felt like she could beat up Valentina. ‘’Do you want to stop? Do you want to leave?’’

‘’I don’t know, I want to do this with you Lucy, I get why you like to do this sport and it’ll be nice to have a hobby together’’

‘’Yeah, we can continue to train together, I’ll just teach you for a few weeks, while I'll search for a new coach and when I find one we will be more on the same level, hmm?’’ Lucy came closer to Ona and whispered ‘’This coach kinda sucks, she’s wayyy to comfortable around my girlfriend’’.

Ona laughed ‘’and I was the one who was worrying last week’’

‘’yeah, but I told you then already that it was not like that, and this is your proof , she has good taste but she should know when to piss off’’

‘’Who should piss off?’’ Valentina asked when she came walking back with some rubber bands and other stuff.

‘’We -, we are’’ Lucy stated, ‘’we just got a call and sadly we have to go..’’

‘’But your phones are in the dressing room?’’ Vale asked suspiciously.

‘’Yup’’ Ona said ‘’It was nice training with you, but we really have to go’’

As they walked away Lucy grabbed Ona’s butt and looked back, seeing that Valentina had seen her do it she slipped her hand under her girlfriends shirt and kissed Ona's cheek and head.

In the dressing room they got their bag and Lucy wanted to get her stuff to take a shower, but Ona grabbed her wrist, ‘’No, we’re supposed to be in a hurry remember, let’s go home’’

‘’No I think she got the part where it was just an excuse’’ Lucy grinned and cupped Ona’s face to kiss her.

‘’I want to go home Luce’’ Ona said softly ‘’let me show you how much I love being yours’’

Lucy gulped ‘’damn, lets go then’’

//// 21:41 ////

Ona quickly opened the door, Lucy following behind her with their gym bag. In the hallway Ona pushed her girlfriend against the wall, ''I liked how you showed her I’m yours when we were walking away'' she said while she kissed her neck, already breathing heavy.

Lucy laughed as she looked up ‘’hm, yeah, well I hated watching her be so up in your space and I will not be working with her again’’

‘’thats a shame because it was kinda hot when you two were sparring in the boxing ring’’ Ona said against Lucy’s ear. ´´Your so muscular´´ she said as she felt Lucy's shoulders and arms.

Lucy lifted Ona up, holding her up with her hands just below Ona´s ass. She always got very horny when Ona adopted such a worshiping position.

Ona straddled her legs around Lucy´s waist and as they were kissing Lucy walked them to the bedroom, when they bumped into the doorframe, Lucy broke their kiss ´´Oh sorry baby, didn´t -

Ona didn't let her finish, ''Sshh, I didn't feel it , you know im a bit of a masochists anyways '' Ona smiled cheekily.

Lucy gulped, she knew Ona liked it rough but it was always special to hear again that Ona really thought it was such a turn on, Lucy herself was more of someone who got off on being praised, maybe that's why their dynamic worked so well.

She threw Ona roughly onto the bed and told her to undress. Ona immediately obeyed and undressed clumsily ‘’wow so well behaved’’ Lucy smirked. ‘’Don’t even have to direct you further, immediate follow-up, let's keep that up, right bub? Are you gonna listen to me really good?’’

‘’Yeah’’ Ona said, voice raspy from being so turned on.

..

(sorry for edging, but i don't know how to continue so that was it😘)

unless maybe someone has some ideas and sends them my way

[http-drabbles]

soulmate, soulmate where are you? 2

1.3k words of absolute crushing angst, it's 7am and i woke up to write. shall i be evil and let this be the final part? mayhaps.

warnings: s/h and making jungkook sad (:W)

fuck fuck fuck.

skimming every question and typing out my answer feels a lot like betrayal. name, age, country of residence, when my soulmate mark appeared, contact details, translator needed, agreeing to a declaration that if my soulmate mark was found to be fraudulent i could face a fine or jail time. i tick the box by his name, attach a photo of my mark and send the form off. the confirmation email is too cheery it makes my jaw ache at how i grind my teeth.

i don't want to talk about the circumstances that lead me to fill out that form, to apply for a loan that covers travel cost and a hotel for this. the woman who helped me fill out the form was again all too cheery, wishing me a good luck and all i could do was smile so fucking limply back at her while noticing lipstick smudged against her teeth.

a month passes and i'm gleeful, maybe it's a network error and my form never submitted. i'm free and can tell the loan company to cancel my plan, i don't go on social media to see what jungkook is up to and in those weeks the nightmare is over and i embrace my loneliness.

the email arrives at 16:21. heathrow to seoul, a contact at hybe will meet me at the airport. id needed. date of when i'm expected to actually meet jungkook, with a disclaimer that it may change due to fluctuating schedule. the tiger lily tingles, and i almost see the petals opening ready to accept him.

"don't get your hopes up, i can always email them back to get out of this."

i don't. of course i don't because i'm standing in a Costa in London Fucking Heathrow next to the hybe contact who is analysing their croissants like it's the key to end all misery. i wished i could look at croissants with that much intensity.

she asked once to see my soulmate mark, gave it a one second glance over and then typed something down in her phone, i wondered how many people she's flown with to Korea. more than ten i would bet. i don't ask, i'm not conversational but when we're waiting in the queue holding out boarding passes i blurt to her.

"i haven't flown before. i've got a fear of it i think."

she passes me a sleeping tablet and i bump her number from ten to a solid fifteen.

korea is pretty, face practically smushed against the taxi window i take in every single detail i can. there's an over-abundance of signs, low hanging wires and roads so tiny it's a miracle a car can pass through them. i don't take photos, i rely on my brain to remember and then forget.

hybe is anything but pretty, more like a grey lump of concrete and glass. i sign two more documents and the translator informs me that in two days time i will be meeting jungkook, but not officially meeting. more like my arm will be stuck through a gap and our soulmate marks will touch, i will have to wear a mitt because some people had become a little too excited and scratchy. my mark is thoroughly inspected this time, deemed official and not a tattoo i'm driven over to my hotel.

i don't unpack, staring at the forms in my hand which are a mix of korean and english i almost laugh. traitor. stupid traitor.

over the next two days i come to two big conclusions, one kimchi is too sour but the rice cakes should be considered a universal delicacy and two, is it too late to back out?

is it too late to back out? i'm in the taxi, i consider clawing the windows for escape but i decide that digging my fingers into my belly helps ease my nerves. can i back out? hybe is cold, the ac is too strong and there's other girls in the room i'm lead into. shy smiles as i plop myself in the back. we are called alphabetically. is it possible to back out? there's four of us left now, i didn't bother counting us as a whole. i can't stop digging my nails into my stomach.

i can't back out. my name is called and somehow my body removes the hand from my belly and i walk myself over to the room. there's a row of grey screen partitions that divide the room, a small slither in the middle presumably where my arm will go. it hits me jungkook is on the other side and i bite my bottom lip hard to avoid laughing. tugging my sleeve up a staff member puts the mitt on securely, another verbal warning to not do anything harmful to the artist.

artist and not his name.

i sit down on the chair, staring into that small space to catch a sight of him but there's nothing. i don't mind a fine, or jail time. i hope it's not real. deliberately slowly i raise my arm, putting it through the gap with my tiger lily facing upwards. the air shifts around my arm and i feel him. warm as his tiger lily presses against mine.

at first nothing, and i almost let out the loudest sigh of relief and then it is everything. in the mitt my fingers jerk, i pull away like i've been electrocuted clutching my arm but it's energy, pure energy. thrum. drum. drum.

he's tearing the partitions apart and i stagger back, nearly falling over the chair to get away from him. frantic korean, something more reassuring from a staff member and then he pokes his head through. beaming smile, he's so happy to see me and i guess i'm somewhere between absolutely mortified and in complete shock. his sleeve is rolled up and i notice his tiger lily has fully blossomed, a quick glance down at mine and i realise mine is the same.

he speaks again, approaching me like he wants to hug me but seeing that i'm backing away like a rabid animal he slows, contains himself and glances at the translator and back at me.

"hello. i'm jungkook. it's nice to meet you finally." oh god. too much. he's too kind and his cologne has infiltrated my nostrils and i'm so glad the mitt is still on because i'd be clawing at my nose to stop smelling it.

"s-sorry.. can't." i give the staff member who brought me in here the universal look of, 'get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here-now.' i am ignored.

"sorry?" he tilts his head in pure confusion, he looks worried. i hate him for it. "don't be sorry. it's okay. i'm happy."

i glance around the room and notice i'm being recorded, i don't know what sets me off more. he's too close, the camera, him, why is he so close? he touches my shoulder to comfort me and i jerk away, i can't stop looking at the camera and the other staff members who are beaming at us.

"i'm sorry," my eyes lock with his, "i don't want you." he doesn't understand and i glance at the translator.

she looks sad and very softly tells him what i've said, he doesn't seem to believe her because he presses his fingers against the tiger lily and shakes his head.

"us. this is us." he's struggling to speak himself and i can see him remembering. he's really looking at my arm now, clearer. the burns, the cuts. all the times i've tried to prune that cancerous flower from my arm. almost physically wounded he takes a step back.

"i'm sorry, i don't want this." the translator repeats my words and all he does is nod.

he nods and i leave.

[trashpandato]

But we are real, real

“Who scheduled a meeting at seven in the morning?” Lena hissed, tapping the keys on her laptop with more force than strictly necessary.

“Um,” Jess cleared her throat, hovering near the door, “I believe you asked for this time slot specifically when the meeting was set last week?”

Lena pursed her lips. She had indeed done that, but that didn’t change how unhappy she was with that decision now. 

“Don’t let me do that again.”

“Of course, Miss Luthor,” Jess promised, scurrying out of Lena’s office before she could be subjected to any more harsh questions only minutes into their work day.

The meeting was…fine. Productive, even, once Lena managed to swallow down some snarkier comments that were on the tip of her tongue. The coffee Jess had brought her part way through helped a little as well. But then Lena got wind of an issue in the lab and she stormed downstairs without a second thought, sent the lab techs home with a few not-so-friendly words and mumbled something about “always having to fix everything myself” before throwing herself at the task for a couple of hours.

She was so engrossed in her work that she forgot about her scheduled call with Sam at lunch, and when her phone buzzed for the third time in as many minutes, she was about to throw it against the wall.

“I’m busy,” she snapped when she finally answered the call without even looking at the caller ID to confirm who she was subjecting to her foul mood. “A fact that should have been clear after I didn’t pick up the first two times you called.”

“Whoa there, grumpy pants,” Sam replied, a slight chuckle in her tone, “someone’s got a short fuse today.”

Lena sighed. “Sam. It’s been a day from hell.”

“Lena,” her friend’s voice softened, “you know you can just text me and reschedule our call, right?”

Lena sighed again. “Right. Sorry.”

“What’s going on? Is this a work-related hell or something else?”

“An early meeting with investors from Switzerland, and you know how rough those can be, and then a lab emergency that I’m currently fixing myself, and then I have to call my mother later today.”

“Well, that sounds unpleasant but like a pretty normal day for you,” Sam remarked, and even though Lena wanted to disagree and tell Sam that this really had been a supremely shitty morning and she had every reason to be a little irritable, thank you very much, she knew her friend had a point.

“Either way,” Lena mumbled after a moment, “I have to finish fixing this. Rain check on our catch-up call?”

“Fine. But maybe find one of those squeezy stress balls so you don’t end up biting anyone else’s head off today, okay? Well, except your mother. Go ahead and bite with gusto; she deserves that and more.”

Lena rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Love you, Lena!”

Lena disconnected the call and glanced down at her phone. There were a few notifications, some news alerts and stock market statistics, and the reminder that she had missed the two earlier attempts from Sam to call her, but no texts from the one person she really wanted to hear from. Sighing, she locked her phone, stuck it in her pocket and returned to the task in front of her.

When she went back to her desk later that afternoon, she found a man snooping around in her office and she was about to reprimand Jess for not alerting her about the intruder when the man reminded her that she had ordered him to complete a security check of her office that afternoon.

“Right,” Lena said curtly and waved at him to proceed with his task while she sat down at her desk to deal with a litany of unanswered emails that had piled up while she was in the lab.

Lena ended the afternoon with the call from Lillian, which was as unpleasant as she had expected it to be. It included the usual commentary about Lena not being equipped to lead the company, a few pointed questions about a delayed product launch and a small dip in stock values and ended with Lillian reminding Lena of everything she had ever done wrong in her mother’s eyes. By the end of it, Lena was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and drink a very large glass of wine and have a hot bath, preferably at the same time.

When Lena was just about ready to call it a day, finishing up one last email to request a full status update from the lab technicians by noon tomorrow, a small knock made her look up just in time to see Kara step into the dimly lit office. Lena looked back down at her laptop to check the time. It was almost nine. Lena sighed.

“So Jess tells me you’ve been on a tear today. Bad day?”

Kara’s voice was light and teasing, but Lena could see that she was looking at her intently, taking in Lena’s stiff posture and tired features. Lena was about to give Kara a summary of her no good, terrible, very bad day, but what came out instead was:

“You didn’t text.”

“What?”

“You didn’t…you always text me in the mornings. You didn’t today.”

A crooked smile settled on Kara’s face as she walked towards and around Lena’s desk. She crouched down in front of Lena’s chair, her warm hands settling firmly on Lena’s thighs.

“Are you telling me that the reason you’re grumpy and made life miserable for Jess and everyone else today is because you didn’t get your customary good morning baby text?”

Lena pressed her lips into a thin line, unamused.

“I didn’t hear from you all day. I was worried.”

“Hey,” Kara said softly, bending forward a little to catch Lena’s gaze more fully. “There was an emergency. I’m sure you saw the news? I know you did and I know you saw that I was fine, otherwise you would have called Alex and made her day difficult. It just took a bit longer than expected to deal with the cleanup afterwards.”

Unable to form words with Kara’s face so close and her hands so warm and steady on her legs, Lena could only manage a small nod.

“So what’s this really about?”

Lena broke their eye contact, choosing instead to focus on her hands in her lap for this next part. 

“Well, maybe I do like getting that text in the morning? A reminder that this isn’t some elaborate fantasy that my brain made up? That you’re real. That we’re real?”

“Lena,” Kara murmured, moving one of her hands to cover Lena’s fidgeting ones. Kara waited for Lena to look up again before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her lips. “We’re very much real, okay? And if you need more reminders of that throughout the day, I can make that happen.”

Lena nodded, unable to speak past the small lump in her throat.

Then Kara leaned forward again for another brief kiss before sliding her arms under Lena’s legs and picking her up and out of the chair, a move that resulted in a surprised little squeak from Lena.

Kara smirked. 

“Now, how about I take you home and show you just how real we are?”

[lockoutkey]

New fic after months sorry guys

Etho was going to die.

The phone was ringing and he could see the caller ID. Death. His phone said fucking Death. He had heard stories about how people felt when they saw Death calling them. He read the threads people posted of their final day on twitter. He read the submissions to tumblr blogs where people could anonymously confess on their death day like they were in a church. All the “Oh yeah I actually cheated on my wife by fucking her sister.” got old after a while. If you're gonna admit all your wrongdoings before you’re about to die, make it good.

That’s what he always thought. He always criticized them. Now he was the one thinking back on his sins. He never cheated on anyone of course. He could admit to burning down that abandoned factory, but it had been an accident, and he was also 16 at the time. Teenagers are stupid, lay off. He’d already gotten arrested for stealing all those plants, so no reason to admit to that.

The phone kept ringing. It was 12:02am and it would ring until he died unless he answered. Death stared him down through the iPhone. What a horrible way to find out. He should answer. What if it woke up Beef? God, he would have to explain this to his roommate. Should he? He wouldn’t be able to pay half the rent anymore. God, how do you even tell your best friend you have less than a day to live.

He picked up the phone with shaking hands and somehow managed to slide the arrow to talk. “Hello?”

“Hello! Am I speaking to Etho?”

Etho wanted to cry. Who the hell gave Death a phone. He hated Alexander Graham Cracker “Yes.”

“Perfect! I would like to inform you of your death. In the next 24 hours, you will die. Unfortunately, I am unable to provide information such as time and place due to past attempts of death cheaters. However, we are able to provide any resources you need on your final day.”

Fuck.

Etho was silent. He always had a morbid curiosity of what Death said on the final call. Why were they so chipper? He was being told he was going to die. Were they so jaded by their job that they just didn’t care anymore?

“I see you’ve already set up funeral arrangements, which makes this even easier for us. If you would like to make any changes you’ll be able to call us at any point before your death. Now, would you like to be in the death duo program or not?”

None of that made sense to Etho. “What’s a death duo?”

“Ah, my mistake. For those who may be alone or wish to spend it with someone besides their loved ones for some reason, they can be assigned someone else who will be dying the same day. Your death duo would be a man named Bdubs. Would you like to opt into the program?”

Etho laughed humorously. “Why the hell not. Add me in.”

“Lovely! We will send the contact information within five minutes. If you do not receive it, please call or email us. Are you in need of anything else?”

Time. “No.”

“Wonderful. We hope you’ve had a great life. Have a great last day!”

The call ended abruptly. Would he die like that? Suddenly and with no warning? Was he going to die slowly, maybe he would drown or be stabbed. He never feared death, most people didn’t anymore. Now that they knew someone out there was aware of their last day, someone would tell them, they lived life much freer. They could live life dangerously. Why be scared of skydiving if you wouldn’t die that day?

He could hear Beef snoring through their thin apartment walls. He was an early to bed early to rise kinda guy. Etho wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. How could he? He was going to die. He had just peacefully been playing terraria when he got the call. Now he was going through moral dilemmas.

Does he wake up Beef and tell him? He put on his green slippers and stood in front of Beef’s door. He was hesitant to knock. He couldn’t. The last thing they did was make homemade pizzas. The kitchen was still a mess from last night. He lowered his hand. He should clean up. For Beef. Maybe it was cruel to spend his last day away from his friend, but Etho wanted the last memory to be a happy one. He didn’t want Beef to spend the last hours together sad. Plus, he had that Bdubs guy to deal with.

He grabbed a wad of paper towels and sprayed down the counter. There was pizza sauce on the spruce cabinets. How did that even get there? Cheese was stuck on the tiles, and bits of dough were embedded into the counter. His speaker was still turned on. The two really were chaos incarnate. Etho leaned on the counter and ran his hands through his hair. He wasn’t going to cry. He wouldn’t cry. The counter was wet from the all-purpose cleaner. So was his face and hands. Who was he kidding? He slid against the wall and stared at the ceiling, feeling like a main character in a movie after they find out bad news. Not too far off from the truth.

His phone buzzed on the half cleaned counter. He wiped the tears across his face and stood up, he still had to put the dishes in the dishwasher. There was a text from an unknown number. He saw Death had texted him a number that matched with the unknown text. This must be his death duo. Bdubs.

Bdubs: Is this Etho?

Etho: Yeah, Bdubs huh?

Bdubs: Yep.

Etho: So…

Bdubs: We’re gonna die, huh?

Etho: I guess.

Bdubs: What are we gonna do about it?

Etho: Wdym?

Bdubs: I mean, I’m not saying go jump off a bridge or travel the world, what are we gonna do? We have a day to live, we might as well make it worth something.

Etho thought about it while putting the rest of the dishes into the washer. He was right. Etho could just sit inside and wait. He could let Beef walk in his room and find his body. He would probably scar his roommate for life, but at least Etho could relax on his last day. Where was the happiness in that though. There wasn’t much to do in January, but they could find some fun.

Etho: Do you know the fountain on Swing Road? Meet me there in an hour.

Bdubs: That’s almost 1:30am

Etho: Like you said, might as well make today worth it

Etho turned off his phone. Bdubs seemed like an interesting guy, but he had only talked for a few sentences. Etho walked into the living room, picking up his and Beef’s cat Chester along the way. He stood next to the coffee table, looking around. He probably wouldn’t see his apartment again after he left. He spent so many nights drinking and watching movies on that old smelly couch. Their Wall of Shame was filled with polaroid photos of him and his friends, mostly of them leaning over a bucket or toilet about to puke their guts out after a night of bar hopping. His favorite was Tango with sharpie dicks on his face. He had been pissed seeing the photo on the wall the next morning. He had soon gotten revenge on the others during their yearly camping trip. Beef, Impulse, Zedaph, and Etho floating on a lake would forever be ingrained in their memories, as well as plastered on the wall for any visitors to see.

Chester stretched in his arms. “Aww, come on buddy, you don’t wanna spend time with me? I thought cats were supposed to tell when people were going to die. Do you hate me that much?” Chester ignored him and hopped down. Stupid cat. He had to get dressed anyway.

What do you wear when you know you’re going to die? Should he be comfortable? Fancy? Casual?

Etho: What are you wearing?

Bdubs: Take me on a date first.

Etho: That’s…nvm

Why did he try? Was he making a mistake? Weren't you supposed to spend your last day surrounded by loved ones? He was supposed to spend it with friends and family, crying his eyes out wishing for more time. Should he back out? What were they even going to do? Fuck it, where was his flannel? He threw it over his white pajama shirt and called it a day. It wasn’t like he slept in it. Jeans, he needed those. He wouldn’t die in ketchup stained sweatpants. He would go out looking like a Calvin Klein model reject.

He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. This was it. He was going to walk out that door and not come back. He should write a letter to Beef, right? He already wrote his will out, it was updated and ready for today. Beef deserved something more though. He shuffled through his desk for a clean sheet of paper and a pen, sliding into his chair for a hastily written death note.

So if you’re reading this letter, I’m dead. Sorry. Well, I don’t know if I should be sorry, cause it’s not like it’s MY fault I got the call. Better me before you though. Can you imagine if they told other people about someone else’s death instead? Like, what if you knew instead. How fucked yo would that be? Sorry, I’m rambling. I bet you read sorry in my accent, huh?

Anyways, since I’m dead you’re gonna be the one doing everything, right? With my will and funeral since my mom and dad are dead too. That’s for doing all that buddy, you mean the world to me, seriously. You don’t have to do all this but you said you would when the day came. We thought it would be in like 50 years, but well, can’t control death.

Take care of our little monster, okay? Chester deserves all the treats. Tell Impulse to finish his PhD and if he doesn’t I'm haunting him. Tell Tango I know he stole my cookies that one time in the fourth grade and I forgive him. Tell Zed not to join me too soon, I know his experiments get dangerous, stay safe.

I love you.

His roof must have a leak because there were splotches of water on the paper. He folded it and wrote his roommate's name on the back. There was no reason for Beef to go in here until he got the call Etho was dead.

He looked at the clock and swore. He had half an hour to get to the fountain. He would have to run rather than walk. Should he throw caution to the wind? It wasn’t like he was going to die tomorrow.

He slipped on his shoes and unlocked the door. The click seemed to echo through the house. He winced and turned the doorknob, keeping a close eye on Chester. The evil little demon liked to bolt.

The lock clicked into place and he made a run for it. God, he needed more exercise. Technical support workers only got so much exercise. He hoped his clients wouldn’t be too mad their computers weren’t fully fixed. Beef could recommend them to someone else. Hell, he could probably fix their computers for them.

The stress he dashed by still wasn't empty. Every few minutes a car would zoom past on their way to who knows where. Maybe they had gotten the call as well. He lived on the outskirts of the city and didn’t miss the chaos at all. The small apartment was nice, he could walk everywhere he needed to go, and if he needed to go somewhere further he could grab a train or bus. Life was nice.

Damnit.

He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to reminisce. He slowed down as he came up on the center fountain. It wasn’t hard to find Bdubs, seeing as he was the only person standing by the unused sculpture this late at night. His hands were in his sweatshirt pockets. The man was doing a strange dance where he would jump on the fountain edge, lean forward, back, and jump down as gravity and momentum took over. He slammed the label goofball on Bdubs before even speaking with him.

“Hey!” He shouted across the square. Bdubs, in the middle of a jump, turned violently and fell back into the fountain. Thank god it was the middle of winter and turned off, that could have spelled disaster.

Now, Etho was described as many things. He had an aura that strangers often found mysterious and intimidating. Friends knew he was just Some Guy. He refers to himself as a nerd who likes to fix computers and collect pokémon cards. He wanted to make a good first impression on Bdubs though. Etho ran up to the fallen Bdubs, who looked like a freshly kicked raccoon. What he wanted to say was an apology. Etho also wanted to ask about the status of Bdubs’s health. These thoughts ended with Etho saying the following.

“Are you fucking sorry?”

If it weren’t the last day of his life, the look on Bdubs’ face would haunt him for the rest of it. “Excuse me?!”

Etho ran his hands down his face. So much for good first impressions. “No, wait. I was trying to say ‘Are you okay’ and ‘I’m so fucking sorry’ at the same time and I messed up. My bad.”

Bdubs shook his head. “Man, this is the guy they set me up with. Well, I won’t complain. I would have stayed with my roommates, but…”

“You want them to remember you without the whole inevitable end thing?” Etho finished.

Bdubs nodded. Maybe that’s why people agreed to this dumb setup. Yeah, it was nice to spend your final hours with people you love, but why spend it sad and wishing for more time. Let them remember you for the person you were, right?

“So, what first?” Etho asked. He had a few ideas, but had no clue what to do at 1:30am. Nothing was open.

“You ever heard of insomnia cookies? It’s like 10 minutes away from the city. Closes at 3am?”

Etho nodded his head. He’d never been there himself but heard good things about the store. “There first?”

“Yup.” Bdubs twirled his keys and walked towards a lone blue car. It barely looked held together and Etho was sure this metal tube was his sentence. “I’ve always wanted to try it but I always put it off. Thought I had time, ya know?”

Etho rubbed his hands together. “Trust me, I know.”

Etho stepped into the passenger side and immediately made sure there was a handle to grab onto. Better safe than sorry. Then again, he had no reason to be safe today. Might as well live on the edge. He still put his seatbelt on though. Safety first.

Bdubs driving was, if he was to make a comparison, akin to a squirrel on ketamine. Etho was going to throw up. That would be how he died, in a car with a man he just met while puking and it would be all Bdubs fault. Where did he find this guy again?

“Let me the hell out.” Etho wheezed.

“Why? Is there something wrong with my driving?” Bdubs asked, flying over a speed bump and smashing into a traffic cone.

“Oh my god.”

Thankfully, he slowed down once they got closer to the city. There were few days and pedestrians, but just because it was their last day on earth didn’t mean they had to be the cause someone else met their end.

The city lights flashed off the glass skyscrapers. He had never really been a city boy, he liked plants more than sewer rats. However, when it was silent, when no one was out, it was almost peaceful. The scaffolding flew past and he imagined construction workers and their fear of falling.

“Where is this place?” He asked.

Bdubs gestured up ahead. “A couple blocks, trust me, you’ll like it.”

Etho raised an eyebrow. “How would you know what I like? You just met me. Maybe I like bitter things.”

“Do you like bitter food?”

“No.”

Bdubs smirked. “There you go. Okay, how ‘bout this, 20 questions, you and me. Easy way to get to know each other!”

Etho scoffed. “Really? 20 questions? Isn’t that a game teenagers play to ask each other on a date?”

Bdubs opened his mouth to retaliate and disagree, but accepted Etho was right. “Fine, it's not 20 questions. It’s two guys dying at any moment and they wanna get to know each other. That sound good?”

Etho tapped his chin. “Hmm, I can accept that.”

The cookie place wasn’t that impressive. It seemed like a bad start to the day, but Etho would stay positive. He hasn’t even tried the cookies yet. The door chimed open and the two stepped into the warm shop. It was nicer on the inside, chairs set up around the place. Paintings of cookies dotted the walls under posters advertising different types of cookies they sold.  He didn’t know there could be cookies so big.

“Welcome to Insomnia Cookies, how can I help you?” The cashier asked with as much energy someone could have at almost two am. They were here close to closing, so they were rightfully annoyed at them. They could suck it up, today was the day for Etho to do whatever the hell he wanted.

Bdubs looked through the cookies on display. “Hmmm, I’ll have the deluxe monster’wich! Etho, what do you want?”

Etho looked at Bdubs in disbelief. “Why would you order that? It’s in the negatives outside.”

Bdubs shrugged. “Go big or go home.”

Etho laughed. “You know what? Okay. I’ll just have a snickerdoodle cookie.”

The cashier sighed and rang them up. “$10.87.”

Enthusiastic. Listen, Etho was an insomniac, he wouldn’t even get the chance to fall asleep until at least 3am on a good night, this was hardly the first time he would be awake for a whole day.

The cookies were already made so they sat down quickly. Bdub’s ice cream dripped onto his napkin and Etho couldn’t help but be the slightest bit jealous and wishing he had gotten it. However, he would rather have his cookie than freeze. His jacket was barely keeping out the cold.

“What next?” Bdubs asked, mouth full of ice cream and cookie bits.

That was a good question. There wasn’t much to do at 2am. Most of the population was asleep or at their homes. Only Walmarts and this Insomnia Cookie were open. “Wanna graffiti a building?”

Bdubs’s eyes widened. “That’s illegal!”

Etho took a bite of cookies. “I mean, only if you get caught. It’s not as bad as the arson.”

“You know what,” Bdubs smirked. “You’re not wrong. Alright, Mr. ACAB, where we doin’ this? Do you just have spray paint or whatever you use on hand?”

Etho tossed his wrapper in the trash can. “I know a guy. He’ll still be awake right now, he’s just like that.”

Bdubs followed Etho out, making sure to wipe off his ice cream covered hands before leaving. It was still freezing out and Etho was glad he hadn’t had ice cream. Watching Bdubs shiver, he wondered if the other man regretted it. Probably not.

Etho gave the directions to Bdubs and they headed off. Now that they were in the city, his driving was much better, however, Etho still feared for his life. He couldn’t even drive but he could probably stay between the lines better than Bdubs. “Why are you such a bad driver?”

“Is that one of the questions?”

Etho shook his head, turning green. “It’s a concern for our safety.”

Bdubs nodded to the wheel. “You wanna drive?”

“I can’t drive.” Etho admitted. “But I could probably do a hell of a lot better than whatever you’re doing.”

Bdubs grinned, Etho didn’t like it. “Is that a challenge?”

Oh no. “Yes.”

Bdubs cackled. “Fine then, we’ll see who the better driver is.”

Etho bit his lip. He might’ve just made a mistake. Oh well, something to pass the time.

“So, what’s this guys name? This mysterious stranger.” Bdubs swerved around the corner.

“Iskall.” Etho gritted out. “We were college roommates but he went off with some friends. Came back a few years ago and I helped him get set up around here. He owns a pawn shop.”

“Cool! So he has money, right?” Bdubs asked. Etho shrugged. He never asked how much Iskall made, but it was probably more than his measly salary.

The pawn shop was tucked between a thrift store and a chinese restaurant. The bright green ‘VAULT HUNTERS’ sign pushed away the darkness. Iskall should already be down. He’d texted his friend they were coming but gave no details. Hopefully the Swedish man could forgive him.

Etho rapped on the door. A shout came from within the door and brought a smile to Etho’s face. He hadn’t seen Iskall in a while, and although he wouldn’t let the man know why they were there so early in the morning, he would enjoy seeing his old friend one last time.

“What the hell are you doing here? Do you know what time it is? Who are you?” The Swedish man raged in the doorway.

Etho smiled. “It’s nice to see you too, Iskall! Can we come in?”

Iskall grumbled but opened the door for them. The two walked into the pawn shop, ignoring the burning glare of Iskall. The shop was filled to the brim with who knows what, probably organized in a way only Iskall knew. In one corner was a grand piano and in another was a ceramic clown. Paintings that had to be worth thousands hung on the wall. How has this place not been robbed yet? Though he wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of Iskall’s rage, they were friends, and the man wouldn’t actually hurt him. Probably.

“I need the stuff.” Etho requested.

Iskall raised an eyebrow. “The helpful stuff or the bad stuff.”

“The fun stuff.”

“Damnit Etho.”

Iskall beckoned them further into the mess. Bdubs looked as if he was resisting the urge to touch everything in sight and he was relieved the man kept his hands to himself. He led them to a counter that Iskall walked behind and disappeared into a back room.

Bdubs glanced nervously at Etho. “He’s not gonna kill us, right?”

Etho looked thoughtful. “Probably not.”

“Great.”

Iskall came back out and threw a duffle bag on the table. Metal clinked together inside the ripped bag. “I don’t know what you two are planning, but this isn’t mine.”

Etho nodded. “This isn’t yours, got it. Thanks, Iskall.”

Iskall waved him off. “You’re lucky you’re one of my best friends, Etho. Let me know if you need anything else, preferable at a different time, though.”

Etho shot finger guns at him. “You got it. We’re heading out. Bye, Iskall!”

Iskall waved and headed up a set of stairs. Etho turned to Bdubs and grinned, holding up the bag. “So, where first?”

Bdubs walked towards the door. “Luckily for you, there’s one place that has been annoying me for way too long. You know Boatem?”

Etho ran through his memory. “That new shopping center with the train?”

Bdubs nodded. “My favorite cafe used to be there. I live close to there and that train goes off at all points of the day. It’s time for revenge.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Etho cheered, throwing the bag into the back seat. Good thing cops rarely showed up late at night. Plus, Etho knew how to evade them. He had practice.

The cans rattled in the backseat as Bdubs sped through the streets. On second thought, maybe it would be nice for some cops to show up. They could actually pull the man over and explain what a speed limit was. “Slow down…”

“Hell no!” Bdubs cheered.

They got to Boatem in record time. Etho himself had never been as he was more of a thrifting man than hundred dollar shopping outlets. Sometimes capitalism needs to be sent a message in the form of toxic pain.

“Where do you wanna do this?” Etho asked. “You know the place better than me.”

Bdubs motioned towards a large platform. “The train, it annoys me the most. What should we draw on it though?”

“Your mom.” Etho blurted without thinking. Silence fell between the two as they processed exactly what Etho said. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean YOUR mom, I mean the words. I’m sure you have a lovely mother.”

Bdubs doubled over laughing. “Seriously? The best you can come up with is that? How old are you?”

Etho crossed his arms. “It’s a classic joke…”

“Fine. You write your dumb jokes. I’m writing the communist manifesto.” Bdubs stomped off to apparently spread propaganda. To each their own.

Etho hopped next to the train. It was smaller than a real train and didn’t actually move. But from the wiring he could see, it probably made the same noisess as one. That would line up with Bdubs’s annoyance. He pushed a box over so he was level with the side and grabbed a red can. He didn’t care what Bdubs said, your mom jokes were hilarious. He didn’t just write jokes, he also drew various animals on the train. He wasn’t what you would call an artist, but a couple of circles definitely made a cat. Cats were cute. He couldn’t be arrested for cute things. That’s why he was never arrested, when he most likely should be.

“You done?” He heard after a while. Etho looked over his zoo work. Beautiful.

“Yeah!” He shouted back.

Bdubs wandered over and glanced over his art. “I’m sure Boatem will be thoroughly pissed off. Good job, E!”

“Thank you! What did you do?” Etho followed Bdubs over to his side where he did indeed see the first lines of the communist manifesto. He thought he was joking, but no, his new friend really knew it by heart. It was surrounded by some of the most beautiful graffiti he had ever seen. Was he an artist? He had to take a picture with his phone. “Bdubs, you’re amazing.”

“I know!” Bdubs flipped non-existent hair. “What next? It’s almost 5am.”

Etho bit his nail. “Are you hungry? I know a good cafe that’s open around this time. Since yours closed down, you can try this one out.”

“Sure, where is it? I can’t believe they open at 5am. Who does that?” Bdubs asked.

“Well, they don’t actually, they get there to get ready. I just know people.” Etho admitted.

Bdubs laughed. “Ok, Mr. Popular and Mysterious. Do you know anyone who could talk death into sparing us?”

The fun mood deflated from Etho. “No.”

Bdubs realized his mistake and tried to apologize. Etho waved him off but still felt the dark cloud fall over him once again. He felt bad for making Bdubs feel guilty, but he was still processing his impending death. The car ride to the cafe was as silent as it was dangerous, but Etho could even bring himself to lighten the mood despite Bdubs’s many tries. They only spoke once they pulled up to the cafe Etho had mentioned. “Well, we’re here.”

Etho snorted. “Let’s go in.”

The cafe was tiny but cute. It had a yellow and green exterior that emitted a vibe of joy. Despite it being winter, there were chairs and tables for outside seating. They were covered in a thin layer of frost from the low temperature. The glass front had the words “Stressless Cafe” in decals. He knocked on the door and a brunette woman in an apron opened the door. “Etho! What are you doing here? It’s not even opening.”

Etho rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I know, but I was out this early and this was the only place I could think to take us. Oh, this is Bdubs. Bdubs, this is Stress.”

Stress looked carefully at Bdubs before holding out her hand. “I haven’t seen you before. New friend of Etho’s?”

Bdubs shook her hand and glanced at Etho. “Um, something like that.”

Stress paused and a grin slowly spread across her face. “Oh! Well, good for you, Etho. It’s about time you brought someone around.”

Etho’s eyes widened in panic. “No, Stress, it’s not- that’s not- you’re misunderstanding.”

Stress winked at Bdubs. “He’s a shy one.”

Bdubs’s face heated up, catching on to Stress’s implication. “Oh, that’s not- We’re not- you’ve got it wrong!”

Stress laughed. “Whatever you two say. Come on in. You want the usual, Etho?”

Etho tried to hide more of his face in his mask. “Yes, that’s fine.”

Stress brought them to a table and pointed at the still red Bdubs. “What about you? Anything in particular?”

“Um, a hot chocolate please?” He squeaked out.

Stress nodded. “Strawberry cake okay?” She walked away to prepare their order before getting a confirmation. Who was this woman?

“Stress is nosy, I’m so sorry for her.” Etho said. He stared at the table. Well, the previous awkwardness was now replaced with a different kind.

Bdubs coughed. “It’s fine. Friends are like that, yeah?”

An awkward silence fell over the table. Great, how was this going to be fixed. “So, how long have you known Stress.”

Etho looked relieved to talk about something easy and familiar. “She was originally a friend of Iskall. They were in the same classes and she would come over all the time. She opened the cafe when she graduated and I’ve been coming here ever since.”

Bdubs nodded. “That’s cool she could open it right away. It’s hard to do that as a college kid.”

“Her parents have good money and helped her out, plus we spread fliers all over town for like a month before the opening.” Etho explained.

“What are you two doing here so early?”

Etho’s mouth dropped. “Iskall?!”

Iskall stood in front of them decked out in an apron and green shirt. He looked positively annoyed to see the two of them. “Yes, that’s my name.”

“Don’t you work at your own shop?” Bdubs asked. He was new to this friend group, so perhaps he was wrong. Judging by Etho’s reaction though the man wasn’t usually there.

Iskall placed their food and drinks down. “Eh, I help Stress out sometimes. Today is your lucky day.”

Etho nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay, I guess that makes sense?”

“Well…bye.” Iskall walked off presumably to help stress.

“Does he just work everywhere?” Bdubs asked. Etho threw up his hands. How was he supposed to know? He just dug into his muffin and tried to ignore his impending doom. Bdubs did the same with his cake.

It was nice to sit in silence after the crazy few hours they had so far. Etho would admit, it had been the most fun he had in quite a while. He never would have been able to do something like this without being under these circumstances.

The two were able to get over their awkwardness and just talk for a few hours in the cozy warmth of the cafe table. There really wasn’t much they could do at this time, but at least they could get to know each other.

Etho had barely touched his phone since he left the house. Beef must’ve noticed he wasn’t there because his phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket. Sure enough, a text from his roommate. Beef usually wakes up around 7.

Beef: Yo, Etho, where are you?

Did he lie? He should. He couldn’t tell the truth. Beef would want him home immediately and Etho just couldn’t face him.

Etho: Got a text from a client. Said they would pay more if I could check out their computer right now. I won’t say no to money. I couldn’t sleep anyways.

A pang of guilt ran through him. It was for Beef though. It would only hurt him to know what was happening to his friend.

Beef: Sweet, thanks for doing the dishes btw. It was a nice surprise.

Etho smiled and told him it wasn’t any problem. Bdubs looked at him suspiciously. “What’s that smile for?”

“Texting my roommate.” Etho put his phone back down and stretched. “So, you have any more plans?”

Bdubs grinned. “While you were busy texting, I made a few reservations for us.”

That worried Etho. “Reservations?”

Bdubs nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! First thing first, to the mall. We have a fitting to get to.”

Etho should be more worried. His last day on earth and he wasn’t being told where they were going. It could be Bdubs that kills him. What if Bdubs made him drink too much soda? What if Bdubs suffocated him in his car?

The voice of Beef haunted his mind. Stop catastrophizing Etho.

Right. Why would Bdubs kill him when they’re meant to be friends.

Etho pushed away his long finished drink and food. “Alright, tell me about this mysterious fitting.”

“Don’t worry, just follow me.” Bdubs said cryptically.

Etho felt a pant in his heart when Stress cheerfully called out. “See you later Etho! Nice meeting you Bdubs!” No, she wouldn’t be seeing them later, but that’s okay. He got to see his friend one last time. He made sure to leave a bigger tip than usual when she wasn’t looking. $100 should be good.

There were more people out and about now that the sun was up. Some were headed to work while others were simply starting their day with a morning walk. The now crowded land gave him an even bigger fear of Bdubs’s driving and his own death. At any moment they could reach their end.

“So, where are we going?” Etho gritted out. His heart lurched as Bdubs swerved across the lane. He heard a honk from behind him and looked in the mirror to see a woman throw her hands up in her car. He silently apologized on behalf of Bdubs.

“The mall! We have a fitting to get to.” Bdubs said with no explanation. What fitting? Huh?

He found out exactly what he meant when he and Bdubs walked up to a place called Suit and Shoot. He had never touched a place like this before.

“You ever been to a suit store before?” Bdubs asked.

Etho shook his head. “The last time I wore a suit was when I went to my brother's weddings.”

“What’s their names?” Bdubs asked innocently. Etho closed his eyes. Damnit. Oh well, it was bound to happen.

“Patho and Logo.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“We’re triplets.”

“Fuck off.”

Etho sighed. He loved his mother, but sometimes he wished she didn’t smoke so much weed back in the 80s. Oh well, maybe this was just his punishment. He should stop saying things about himself. Actually, maybe he should stop speaking. Then again, he doubted Bdubs would let him.

“Welcome to Suit and Shoot! How can I- Etho? Bdubs?”

As if this situation couldn’t get any stranger. “Iskall?!” Etho gasped.

Iskall fiddled with measuring tape. “What are you two doing here?”

“What are YOU doing here?” Bdubs accused. “You were just at the cafe. How did you get here so quickly? Do you work everywhere?”

It was more of a rhetorical question, but honestly, Etho wanted to know as well. He only knew his old friend was working at that thrift shop, but a cafe and suit fitting store as well? How many hours a week did this man work? When did he sleep?

Iskall sighed. “Etho, follow me. Bdubs, you go with Wels.”

Wels gestured for Bdubs to walk ahead of him into a side room. Bdubs threw a peace sign at Etho before disappearing through the door. Etho sighed and followed Iskall towards his own fitting room. Did he really need this? What was the point?

Etho let his mind wander while Iskall measured him. What was this even for? Why was he at a fitting at 8am? What was the meaning of life? Wait, this was getting a bit too deep for him. He shouldn’t think that deep. He hasn’t known Bdubs for long, but from what he knows is he did everything with a purpose. What was that purpose? Etho didn’t know. He just knew there was a purpose behind it.

“Alright, done. Give me an hour. What’s this for anyway?”

Etho was taken back. He didn’t know much about being a tailor but didn’t it take days? Today was already strange, though. Might as well make it weirder. “No clue, Bdubs’ idea.”

Iskall looked suspicious. “You two are up to quite a lot today, aren’t you? What’s going on? Big tip for Stress and a suit. You finally take Cleo’s advice?”

Etho’s face heated up. “No! Nothing like that! God, no. Why would you- no. Anyway, it’s just…a thing. I’d rather not talk about it.”

Iskall raised an eyebrow. “Now I’m even more suspicious. Alright, I’ll leave you to it. His shoes do kinda look expensive though, if you’re not gonna, I might-.”

“ISKALL!”

Etho was instructed to wait in the front while Iskall finished up their suits. Etho stopped asking questions long ago. Bdubs joined hom not long after, chatting away. Etho closed his eyes, hoping to get a bit of sleep before the two tailors were finished. Was Iskall even qualified to work here? Was he qualified to work anywhere?

“Etho, wake up.”

He was shaken back into reality seconds later. He glanced down at his phone and saw he had indeed fallen asleep. Iskall was standing in front of him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “Welcome back sleeping beauty.”

Etho yawned. “Take me back.”

Iskall pulled his arms. “Nope, I didn’t fix this damn suit for you to sleep in my waiting room. Get up.”

“Your waiting room?” Etho asked, not quite believing the implication Iskall owned the place. How rich was his friend?

Despite Iskall’s many occupations, Etho had to admit, he made a damn good suit. Etho turned in the mirror, admiring the blue and red outfit. He’s never owned something so fancy. He also didn’t have money to pay for it.

Iskall seemed to read his mind. “Your friend paid for it, I know this is out of your pay range. Which brings me to my previous question.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

Etho walked out finally knowing what it was like to be rich. Well, he was still pretty poor, but at least now he looked like he was big money. Bdubs was in a matching green and red suit looking like a walking christmas tree. Etho kept it to himself but silently made it his goal to get someone else to bring it up. He didn’t have a death wish, considering he was already set to die, but someone else could take the bullet and make the comment.

Bdubs grinned, holding his arms out. “Fancy, right?”

Etho stifled a laugh. “Yep, dapper. So, not that this isn’t fun, but what was the point?”

“You’ll see, let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Mcdonald’s.”

Walking into a McDonalds in a three piece suit was definitely not something he thought he would do today. It wasn’t something he thought he would ever do, actually. They got some weird looks but the euphoria he felt about having no cares as to what others thought pushed the looks away. Who gave a shit what some middle aged mom thought when he was going to order chicken nuggets in a fancy outfit.

Bdubs marched up to the cashier with his head held high. The name tag said ‘Grian’ and the guy looked halfway between wanting to die and wanting to kill. They barely phased him. Poor dude probably saw more shit in a day than they did their whole lives. Their shenanigans were nothing.

“What?”

Etho glanced through the menu. “I’ll have a ten piece chicken nugget with a large fry. Oh, and a chocolate milkshake. What do you want?”

“I’ll have the same, but a twenty piece.” Bdubs added, holding out his card.

Grian sighed and took the card. He was going to hand it back but instantly froze. His eyes narrowed and for a minute Etho thought they were in trouble. “Tommy.”

Etho turned around and noticed a teenager standing behind him. He was grinning ear to ear looking right at Grian. “Groin! I didn’t expect you here!”

“Groin?” Bdubs whispered. Etho shrugged, just wanting his chicken nuggets.

“Iskall!” Grian called behind him. “I’ll be back, I have to eat Tommy’s walls again!”

“DON’T YOU DARE!” A voice yelled from the back.

“Iskall? You work here?” They had just seen him make their suits, why was he at a McDonalds? Why was he at any of these places besides the store he owned? Did he own this McDonalds too?

Iskall grabbed Grian’s shirt. “Leave and I’ll burn your house.”

“Don’t eat my house again!” The child, Tommy, cried in despair. Etho glanced at Bdubs and silently moved out of line. Whatever this soap opera was, he didn’t want any part of it. They had paid and that was all that mattered.

“So, Iskall works at a lot of places, huh?” Bdubs asked.

Etho shrugged. “I honestly don’t know if he actually works there.” A loud crash distracted the two and they saw a man storm out from an office. His nametag claimed him as Xisuma, the manager. Oh boy, this was about to get interesting.

“What is all this mess about?” The manager asked.

Iskall pointed at his coworker. “Don’t look at me, Grian is threatening to eat that kid's house again. I’m pretty sure this is against store code or something.”

“It is.” Xisuma turned to Tommy. “You want a job?”

“WHAT?” Screeched Grian.

Everyone ignored him. “Fuck yeah! Sign me up boss man!”

Xisuma waved them off and left for the office again. “Great, start now.”

Iskall sighed and reached for a bag of food. “Great, now I have to train a newbee. Take your damn food, Etho.”

Etho smiled in sympathy. “Good luck buddy.”

Etho was very careful with the sauce. He refused to ruin his new fancy suit. Sure, he would only have his suit for today, seeing as he was gonna die, but that didn’t matter. It was the principle. The world had other plans, however.

“Fuck!” Etho yelled, dropping ketchup onto his jacket. He grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it, hoping it wouldn’t stain.

“He’s goated with the sauce.”

Etho turned back towards the counter. The new trainee, Tommy, stared him down. Etho felt his skin crawl. “What?”

Tommy pointed. “Quirked up white boy bustin it down sexual style. Is he goated with the sauce?”

Etho looked at Bdubs, who shrugged his shoulders. “Are you?”

Etho was gonna pass out.

“Can we go?” Etho asked, pushing away the rest of his meal. He didn’t wait for Bdubs and instead hurried out of the McDonalds. Bdubs rushed after, throwing a quick thank you to Grian. Tommy shouted back instead, vastly misinterpreting it.

“I want to go hiking. We can drive to the mountain, but I want to get to the top.” Bdubs led the way to his car. Etho still couldn’t shake his anxiety of getting in that car. After the first close call he wanted nothing to do with that death trap. He did not want to die in a car. He had avoided cars for so long it would piss him off to die in one.

“I don’t think I’ve been hiking in years, I’m down. Converse aren’t the best but I’ll deal with it. It’s not like my feet are gonna hurt tomorrow.” Etho jokes. Bdubs punched him in the arm at the sick comedy.

Etho didn’t know if Bdubs drove like a maniac because he was going to die, or if that was his usual style. But he weaved through traffic like a tetris player in the middle of a prize winning competition. He either ignored the honking or straight up didn’t hear them. He was so focused on getting to whatever mountain they were heading to he nearly hit an elderly woman. He missed though. It wasn’t her day to die, then.

Bdubs slowed as they left the city. Etho had never really left, he’d grown up surrounded by metal and concrete. Maybe it was nice to die away from it all? Somewhere strange and new. Beautiful and wild. The mountains loomed large and dark, so similar yet different from his home, and in a way so like his enclosing fate. The paved roads changed to dirt and open landscapes changed to tall spruce and oak trees.

Etho threw himself out of the car as soon as they hit the forest. Bdubs ignored him and stretched. He grabbed a stick on the ground and tested its weight. “Look at that! Free walking stick!”

Etho groaned and pushed himself up. The one good thing about dying today; he would never have to deal with Bdubs’ god-awful driving ever again. After all, this was probably the last place they would end up. They somehow hadn’t died on the road. Etho had no clue how they could die on the mountain, though. Would they be killed by some bear?

Bdubs poked Etho with his stick. “Come on, we’re not dead yet.”

Etho pushed himself up and sighed. “No, but we’re pretty damn close. Let’s go, maybe this mountain is a volcano and is gonna explode soon.”

“Now that would be a way  to go!”

Etho had to admit the long trek was relaxing on his mind. It was painful and he had to stop way too often, but he was disappointed he hadn’t done this more. He didn’t really believe in an afterlife or some god he’s supposed to see, but if he were to be reincarnated, he hoped he were smart enough to think about coming here. Maybe he would even be a tree. A nice dark oak tree.

Neither of them talked much during those next few hours. They didn’t have much to talk about. They were just waiting at this point. Who would be first? Etho or Bdubs? Etho didn’t know if he hoped it was him or not. It was a stupid and horrible system, the whole phone call business.

The top of the mountain was even more amazing, especially at that time of the day. The city was far, but Etho could still see the lights sparkling. The forest around them was dark with the waning light, only the last rays of sun dipped over the horizon and lit up clouds of pink and purple. Etho couldn’t help but stand and watch as the light disappeared and plunged them into darkness. Pink clouds were quickly replaced by gray whisps, the moon taking the place of the sun.

“Damn, it’s beautiful up here at night.” Bdubs breathed out.

Etho had to agree. The day had been long and tumultuous, but looking at the billions of stars was worth the climb. The day was ending and they had little time left. He had never been in the woods at night, but now that he was, he was glad he had come.

“I didn’t even say bye to my roommate.” Etho admitted.

Bdubs turned to him curiously. “Why not?”

Etho shrugged. “I couldn’t. I don’t want his last thoughts about me to be me dying.”

Bdubs sighed. “I told my roommate and he kinda understood. I told him that I’d rather not spend it sitting in my room just waiting for it. I can’t do that. You didn’t tell your family?”

Another shrug. “Same reason. Maybe it’s bad, but I want them to remember the happy stuff, ya know?”

“That kinda makes sense.” Bdubs admitted. “I think mine would try to stop it. I mean, you can’t, but they would try. They wouldn’t just let me wait around for it. That’s why I went out today.”

Etho nodded. He could understand that. Waiting for death seemed like a personal hell. He’s heard stories of people trying to get out of death by staying in one place the whole day only for someone to break in or die of a heart attack. Some people choose how they go out and a suicide death is slapped on. He always wondered what those people thought right before they did it. What if that truly was how they were to die? If they just had someone come at the right time, could death be cheated? Or were they destined to simply die one day, death be damned how it happens.

There were only a few hours left in the day. He was getting tired as well. All the adventures had taken so much out of him. It wasn’t just the running around and non-stop trips, though he had to admit multiple of those were his idea. He was hungry, they had missed dinner after all. He hadn’t expected to end up on top of a mountain, but he also hadn’t expected to die today. Hungry, tired, and ready to die, Etho was feeling content with how things had turned out. He could stop stressing knowing there was nothing he could do, there was no stopping the inevitable.

“What would you do if today didn’t happen?”

Etho glanced over at Bdubs lying on the ground. “Good question. Probably be working on a computer. I wouldn’t have done the dishes. I don’t really do much, I usually end up causing trouble when I do.”

Bdubs grinned. “So graphic design is your passion?”

Etho threw a branch at Bdubs. “Shut up. What about you?”

Bdubs shrugged. “Dunno. I’m kinda the opposite. I really like to explore the city. I get inspiration from random stuff I see so I’d probably just take a walk somewhere. I’ve been into photography lately. I wouldn’t have spent it running around with you.

“I wouldn’t have spent it in a car with your bad driving.” Etho grinned.

“Hey!” Bdubs yelled. “My driving is impeccable. You can’t even drive."

“I don’t need to drive to know you’re the worst driver in the world.”

“Why I outta-”

Bdubs complaining was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing. Etho’s phone. He looked at the caller ID and nearly dropped it. He was only supposed to hear from Death once in his life. Bdubs caught a look at it the same moment Etho did and paled. Why were they calling again? They never called twice. At least, not that he’s heard of.

“Answer it.” Bdubs forced out. Etho didn’t want to. Can someone die twice? Is that even possible?

Etho slid to accept the call anyway and heard the preppy voice of Death. “Hello! Is this Etho Slab?”

“Yes.” Etho answered shakily.

“Thank goodness I caught you! There appears to have been a mixup in our system. Your name was replaced with someone else. This is a 1 in 7 trillion chance of this happening.”

Etho fell to his knees. All day, all damn day he had feared every step he took, every breath, and it turned out it was a lie? He was going to pass out. “Oh.”

“Yes, congratulations! You live another day. Funeral plans will be canceled immediately and optional therapy sessions will be available to you. Have a wonderful day!”

They hung up. They dropped that bomb and just hung up. Etho stared at Bdubs, looking equally as shocked. “I’m not gonna die.”

Seconds after, Bdubs phone buzzed in his pocket. The two stared, not giving into the thought of it being the same call. There was no way. It was impossible. “H- Hello?”

Etho stared at Bdubs. He couldn’t hear the conversation, but could only assume the same conversation was happening on the other end.

Bdubs nodded but remembered they couldn’t see him. “Yes.”

There was a beat of silence and Bdubs hung up. He’d heard everything he needed to. This wasn’t happening but it was. He sat on the ground trying to process this new information.

“We’re not gonna die.” He whispered, smiling at Etho. “Etho, we’re not gonna die!”

Etho fell onto his back and gazed at the sky. Bdubs’s shouts of excitement were background noise to the racing thoughts. How does he even move on from this? He has trauma now. Bdubs sat next to Etho. He was grinning like a madman. How was he so happy when the world had just been flipped. An hour. They would’ve had an hour left.

What had happened to the other two? There were two people out there who didn’t realize they were dying today. Had they already died? Were they dying? How did it happen? They weren’t even warned, they didn’t spend their last days how they wished. Etho felt guilt gnaw at him. It wasn’t his fault, though. He didn’t tell people about their death. This wasn’t on him. He tried to rationalize with himself but the thought that he was selfishly spending the day carelessly while others lived in ignorant demise ate at him.

“What do we even do now?” Etho asked.

Bdubs shrugged. “Go back to life. Just, ya know, be normal guys. Bros being dudes.”

Etho had fun with Bdubs today. Sure, they never would have met were it not for the mixup, or maybe they would. Maybe this was fate's weird way of bringing them together. Either way, he didn’t want to leave his new friend. He had more fun than he had in months all in one day. He didn’t want to go back to normal life. He couldn’t.

“You’ll have to give me your address and stuff, though. I wanna meet that cat of yours you mentioned.” It was like his mind was read.

Etho laughed. “Yeah, lemme take a week to recover from this, then we’ll talk.” God, he couldn’t wait to tell Beef about this.

[favefandomimagines]

Too Old to be Jealous (k.m.)

Summary: after years apart, your older brother pays you a visit in New Orleans. the brother you didn’t tell Klaus about

AN: i hope this is good 😂 i haven’t written for klaus in a hot minute so i’m a little rusty

Request: @i-smoke-chapstick AHHHH YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING!!! Literally your style is gorgeous :) Since i saw requests were open, Id love to request a Klaus Mikealson x Reader! Maybe something were the readers brother comes to town (Even though no one knew she had a brother) and just kind of waltzs into the french quater and kisses the reader on the cheek. Everyone is like ??? and Klaus is SUPER jealous, and she has to explain that its just her brother? Tysm for taking the time to read my request, i read your ed nygma imagine and you have to be one of my favorite writers on the platform ❤️❤️❤️

There was no call, no text, not even an email. You had no idea your brother was going to be town or you would have prepared better.

When it came to Klaus Mikaelson, any male who gave you the slightest bit of attention was trying to take you from him. And Klaus was the jealous type. He always had been ever since he met you in the 40’s.

It seemed to escalate since the two of you got married after he left Mystic Falls. It didn’t help that you were very unforgiving when it came to him and Hayley and the fact they conceived a child together.

It took graveling and various apologies to get you back after that. So, he was holding on to you as if his life depended on it. Which in his mind it did.

If your brother would have given you any notice, you could have told Klaus that your brother was coming to visit and prepared him. Instead, you were ambushed. And Klaus Mikaelson was notorious for not handling an ambush well. 

“I think we should bring Hope here more often.” You commented as you and Klaus were walking through the quarter. “Love,” He started. “Yes, yes, I know. It’s not safe.” You interrupted in a more playful tone. “But we can get her that dress you liked so much.” He said. 

You smiled triumphantly, slightly getting your way and that was enough for you. You both continued walking down the cobblestone when you felt a pair of hands squeeze your waist, causing you to jump. 

“Hello, Y/N.” You heard before a light peck was placed on your cheek. You turned around and saw your older brother. “Matthew? Wh-What are you doing here? Why are you here?” You asked him.

“I heard through the grapevine that you were in New Orleans, thought I’d come visit.” He answered. As you were chatting with your brother, Klaus was fuming at the interaction. 

Who was this man? Why did he kiss you on the cheek? What was the history between you two? You didn’t even notice Klaus leave so quickly until you went to introduce him to Matthew. 

“Oh, uh, Klaus must have left.” You said, a slight sadness in your voice. “Who’s Klaus?” Matthew asked. “My husband.” You answered. “You got married and didn’t tell your older brother?” He teased. “You have been very hard to get ahold of the past ten years, Matthew.” You replied. 

You invited him back to your home in hopes that you could introduce him and Klaus the right way. You didn’t really know why he had just disappeared without saying anything to you. 

Maybe there was an emergency he hadn’t told you about. You and Matthew had arrived back to the compound and you looked around for Klaus. “He’s in the study, if you’re looking for dad.” Hope announced from her place on the stairs. 

“How upset does he look?” You asked. Knowing his mood would change how you approached him. “On a scale from one to ten, I would say a solid eight.” Hope answered. “Uh, Hope this is Matthew my older brother. Matthew, this is my step-daughter, Hope.” You introduced the two. 

As they were conversing, you went into the study and saw Klaus slowly pacing. “You disappeared.” You commented. “You seemed to be in good company.” Klaus rebutted. “Klaus,” You started. “Who was he? An old friend? An old flame? The two of you seemed very comfortable with each other.” He interrupted. 

“Klaus,” You attempted again. “Was this overdue payback for what happened with Hayley?” Klaus accused. “Klaus! If you’d stop with the accusations for half a second, I could explain to you.” You stopped him. 

“That was Matthew. He’s my older brother and I haven’t seen him in ten years. He just showed up out of the blue to surprise me. I haven’t mentioned him because I haven’t seen him.” You explained. 

You could see Klaus begin to calm down and look slightly embarrassed for how he reacted. “He’s your brother.” Klaus stated. “Yes, Klaus, he’s my brother. There is no other man I want to be with beside you.” You told him, approaching him slowly. 

“I apologize, love. I overreacted.” He said. “You did, yeah. But I can overlook this little outburst of yours if you let me bring Hope to the quarter more often.” You suggested. “You know I’d protect her with my life, there’s no need to worry.” You added.

Klaus sighed as he took your hands in his before looking at your smiling face. “I guess that would be okay. It will be nice for the two of you to spend time together.” He said. “Now, can I introduce you to Matthew now that you know he’s not a threat?” You asked. 

The man nodded his head slightly as you grabbed his hand and brought him out to the foyer. “Also, you’re too old to be jealous of anyone anymore.” You joked.

Introducing your husband to your brother was not the most natural thing to do. Especially since it had been a couple of decades.

But it seemed to calm down Klaus enough to have an actual conversation with Matthew. You and Hope were sitting on the steps as you watched Klaus and Matthew converse in a esther friendly manner.

“They seem to be getting along.” Hope commented. “I know. It’s weird.” You replied. Klaus and Matthew stood up and approached you and Hope. “I have to be heading off. It was good to see you, baby sister. And it was great to meet you, Klaus.” Your brother said.

The exchanged another handshake and Klaus almost seemed elated to have met Matthew. “You should’ve introduced us sooner, Y/N.” He added. You looked at him with wide eyes before glancing back at Klaus.

If you would’ve known the two would have gotten along so well, introductions could have been planned ages ago. But knowing Klaus he still would have found a way to be jealous.

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 9}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >> @snelbz​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: SURPRISE. Enjoy this chapter a day early. I had my days wrong and legit thought it was Thursday, but since it was ready…. Y’all get to enjoy the spoils of my frazzled brain. 😘

Nesta waited with Nyx in the waiting room of the pediatric office.

His rash didn’t seem to be bothering him much, but she wanted to get ahead of it before it became a problem. He was absolutely enamored with the TV playing a bright children’s show in the corner, and Nesta couldn’t help but smile down at him as she checked her email.

The usual stuff greeted her, some open catering order invoices for the restaurant, a few wayward resumes from high school kids that had managed to get her personal email, and, of course, spam.

“Nyx?”

Nesta’s head shot up, and Nyx began looking around, wondering who had called his name. Nesta was instantly on her feet, pushing Nyx’s stroller toward the door that the nurse held open.

She smiled. “Hello, Nyx.”

Nyx babbled in greeting.

The nurse chuckled. “Such a cute little guy. You’re Nesta, I assume?”

“I am,” Nesta confirmed. “I’ve not been here before. It’s a nice office.”

The small talk went on. Nesta had never been a fan of small talk, of polite pleasantries.

It just made her feel awkward.

Nyx didn’t seem to mind. He just kept babbling and babbling and babbling, without a care in the world.

The nurse led them into a room and she checked Nyx’s height and weight before telling them that the doctor would be there shortly.

Nesta had picked Nyx up, looking around at all the educational posters on the walls, when a quick knock sounded on the door and a man cracked open the door.

Nesta blinked once as he stepped inside, not expecting the tall, muscled man that appeared in front of her.

“You must be Nesta,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Dr. Kamaras.”

This man was Nyx’s pediatrician? She had known that Nyx’s doctor was male, Feyre had mentioned him in some stories a few times, but Nesta had always pictured an elderly man.

Not this sculpted, handsome man, who could easily graced the cover of one of the ridiculous smutty books she kept well hidden in her bedroom.

She shook his hand, finally remembering how to speak. “Yes, I am, it’s nice to meet you.”

Very nice to meet you, she added in her head.

His face sombered. “I was very sorry to hear about Rhys and Feyre. They were great people.”

And just like that, Nesta was back on earth, holding her sister’s son in her arms, standing where her sister should have been. She tried to keep her smiling from dimming, but she cleared her throat. “Thank you. It’s…been an adjustment.”

As if they both remembered why they were here, Dr. Karamas blinked and said, “Yes, Nyx, right. You told the nurse he has a rash of some sort?”

“It’s just a diaper rash but it seems to be getting infected,” Nesta explained. “I’ve tried a few different things but nothing seems to be working.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Well, let’s take a look.”

Dr. Karamas took one glance and whistled. “Definitely infected. I’m going to give you a steroid cream. Put it on after every diaper change. It should clear up within the week.”

Nesta let loose a breath. “Oh, great, thank you.”

“Absolutely,” he smiled.

He had a nice smile.

He scribbled something down on his clipboard, signed it, and handed it to Nesta. “The number on the bottom is my office number. If you have any other concerns, no matter how small, give it a call.”

Nesta looked at Nyx’s prescription and the number that was beneath it, along with his name.

Balthazar Karamas.

“Thank you, Dr. Karamas,” Nesta said, and she meant it. She was still new at this, and every little medical thing concerned her.

If it wasn’t normal, she was freaking the fuck out.

“Bal, please,” he said, taking her hand again, shaking it. At the look on her face, he added, “I work with kids. They do better on a familiar name basis than with titles like doctor and mister.”

She nodded, smiling. “Bal, then.”

Nesta was getting Nyx resituated in his stroller in the waiting room, about to head back out into the bright sunlight, when she felt someone approach. She wasn’t expecting to find Balthazar standing a few feet away. She quickly checked the stroller, making sure she had her purse, the diaper bag, and, of course, Nyx himself. “Did I forget something?” She asked, finding everything exactly where it was supposed to be.

“No, no, it’s not that,” he said, pausing in front of her. “I just…can’t shake the feeling that I know you from somewhere.”

It was strange, since Nesta felt the same way.

“You’re not Illyrian,” he said, and it wasn’t a question, nor was it rude. Just an assumption. She only knew of a few other Illyrians in the area, and Balthazar definitely had the same coloring as Cassian and Az. And Rhys used to have. She, pale skinned and blue eyed, certainly did not.

“I’m not,” she said, at last.

Bal chuckled.

That smile, yet again, had her toes curling.

“Interesting,” he said, that smile remaining. “Well, maybe we can figure out just where we’ve run into each other before...over lunch this weekend?”

Nesta blinked. A date?

“Not a date,” he said, quickly, reading her mind. “I would never ask the aunt of my patient on a date. That would be incredibly unprofessional.” Nesta laughed. “Just…two acquaintances figuring out where they were previously acquainted.”

“Lunch sounds nice,” Nesta said, unable to shake her own smile. “Saturday, then?”

“Saturday,” Bal agreed.

They set up a time and place and then Nesta was out the door.

*

Cassian’s day had been as long as it was the day before. It seemed that the teenagers visiting Velaris had gotten the message from their friends that Cassian’s bar was checking every single ID of every single drink that was ordered. So instead of being slammed and busy and frustrated the whole day, he had been bored out of his mind.

He’d gone through his inventory sheets twice, ordering anything they might remotely run out of in the next few weeks.

It didn’t help that Kallias had the day off, covering the evening shift tonight, leaving him alone with his thoughts all day.

And those thoughts constantly reminded him that he’d been an absolute dick to Nesta the night before.

As he drove home, he contemplated the apology he needed to make.

Although Cassian believed his intentions were typically good, apologizing wasn’t one of his strengths. He ran through what he’d say a hundred times, had come up with an unbearable amount of ways in which he could apologize, but everything he thought of wasn’t good enough.

He knew Nesta well enough to know when she would laugh in his face.

He’d come up with about fifteen different scenarios of how this could go by the time he pulled into the driveway, parking next to her little car. He took a deep breath before unlocking the front door and letting himself in.

The house was quiet, neither Nesta or Nyx were anywhere to be found. It was barely six-thirty, but he knew Nesta was taking Nyx to the doctor earlier in the day, which may have tired him out so thoroughly that he was already down for the night. A peek into his cracked bedroom door confirmed it, his little hand curled next his face as he slept.

When he finally tracked down Nesta, on the back patio, her feet propped up in a lounge chair, he definitely hadn’t expected to find her with a bottle of wine. Or what was left of it, at least.

The mostly empty bottle of wine sat next to the baby monitor.

He cleared his throat, announcing his presence.

Nesta’s sigh was the only acknowledgement she showed.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

She shrugged and took a sip from her glass.

“Bad day?” He continued.

She shrugged again.

“Is this the silent treatment?” He asked.

“I assume you’d know,” she said.

Cassian began rubbing his temples. “Look, Nesta-.”

“I’m a little busy if you don’t mind,” she continued. “I prefer to relax alone.”

“This is my house, too,” he said, shutting the sliding door behind him as he made his way onto the patio. “What if I want to sit out here with you?”

“Then I’d suggest continuing the silence,” she said, not looking at him, her face tilting back up to the sky, where it had been when he’d come outside.

So he sat down on a nearby lounge chair, and didn’t say a word.

Or he tried, but he didn’t last five minutes. The words that had building inside him all day needed to come out. He’d rehearsed different things he wanted to say, with reasons for why he was such an asshole, and promises to try and be better from now on. But as he looked over at her, the starlight on her face, all he could get out was, “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Nesta said nothing. “About?”

“The way I acted last night,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the lawn. “It was uncalled for, and I’m sorry.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, draining her glass.

Cassian’s eyes shot her direction. “I’m trying to apologize. You can at least accept my apology so we can move on.”

“Apologies mean nothing,” Nesta said, shrugging. “Words are meaningless.”

“Not mine,” Cassian argued. “I mean what I say.”

“Then you meant what you said last night?” Nesta pushed.

Cassian’s lips snapped shut and his jaw hardened. “No.”

“So, you’re a liar, then?” Nesta asked.

He groaned in frustration. “You’re infuriating.”

She didn’t deign to reply to that.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I was an asshole last night. I was…embarrassed about how you found me the night before. I don’t… I don’t like to be seen like that.” He paused, but then he held a hand out in between them. “Not- not that that happens often. I mean, I don’t make a habit of having emotional breakdowns.”

She didn’t say anything. Just stared at him.

He cleared his throat again, remembering little things he had felt badly about through the day. “Nesta, I’m sorry I acted like an ass. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate the dinner you made me. I was rude as hell and you did nothing to deserve it.”

After a second, she glanced away, out over the pool. He figured she wasn’t going to reply, and he stood, heading back for the back door.

He had slid the door open and was halfway inside when she said, “If you’re hungry, I made lasagna for dinner. It should still be warm on the stove.”

He turned back and found a hint of a smile on her face. “Thanks, Nes.”

*

A continuation of his apology, Cassian had told Nesta he'd be on baby duty for the rest of the night, waking Nyx up for his bottle, granting her leave to do whatever she wanted. She elected to finish off the bottle of wine, open another, and relax in the bathtub with a book.

The book of choice was definitely not appropriate to read in front of Nyx.

Or Cassian, for that matter.

She had appreciated his apology, even though a part of her still wanted to be pissed. There were very few things that agitated her more than male bravado, and Cassian was the spitting image of it. Embarrassed because he was emotional? Please. Get the fuck over it.

Then again, she could say that all day, but in honesty, if the positions were reversed, she would have reacted very, very similarly.

If not worse.

Nesta had always felt too much, far more than either of her sisters. It wasn’t like they were robots, of course. Elain had a bigger heart than anyone Nesta had ever known, and Feyre had been a light to be around.

But, Nesta…

She felt it all, and she felt it far too deeply. She had learned long ago to shut those emotions off, to let them go, to not let her emotions show. They could just be used as a weakness.

And she found life worked better that way.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

Nesta sat up straight, even though the door was locked, in a sudden panic over the fact that she was nude and reading smut.

“Yeah?”

“Nyx is going to bed,” he said. “Just thought you’d want to say goodnight.”

“I- Ah- Just a minute,” she called, setting the book down and reaching down to grab for her towel. She was out and damn near opened the door in just her towel again, but remembered their agreed upon rules. She snatched her robe, wrapping it around herself, towel and all.

She opened the door, Cassian standing just by her bed, and Nyx had his head resting on his shoulder, rubbing his little eyes.

The image was so pure and innocent that Nesta couldn’t stop herself from taking a few steps towards them, reaching out to brush her fingers down Nyx’s soft cheek. “Sweet dreams, buddy,” she breathed, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead.

She regretted it almost immediately, as bringing herself that close in Nyx also inadvertently brought her to Cassian. His heady, nutmeg-and-campfire scent enveloping her, reminding her of the morning she’d come downstairs and found him as naked as she was now. She stepped back quickly, clearing her throat. “And goodnight to you, Cassian,” she murmured. She pointed back behind her towards the bathtub, towards her book, and said, “I’m going to read a little longer and then go to bed myself.”

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Nes.”

The nickname didn’t bother her as much as it previously had, she realized as he made his way back out of her room, shutting the door behind him.

She didn’t let herself think about that, did her best not to think about him, as she sunk back into the warm water.

*

Nyx had gone down easily for Cassian, for the first time ever, thanks to the frozen toy he’d gnawed on to relieve the pain of his incoming tooth. He’d decided he deserved a treat, too, after that, and had sat down to watch the hockey game, a beer in hand.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the front door.

Cassian paused, glancing down at his watch, seeing that it was pushing nine o’clock. He stood, after a second knock sounded, making his way to the door. He opened it to find a woman dressed in a suit on the other side. “Can I help you?”

“Mr. Nazari, I assume?” She asked, extending her hand.

He took it, on instinct, shaking it, but he blinked. He repeated, “Yeah… Can I help you?”

Her brows twitched together. “My name is Alis Birch. I’m with social services.”

Cassian continued to shake her hand, staring.

“The courts told you we’d be making random visits to check in on Nyx,” she continued.

Oh, fuck, Cassian thought. Oh, fucking hell.

They’d completely forgotten about those random visits, in the past few weeks they’d been doing this, distracted by getting used to not only being parents, but getting used to each other as well.

“I see,” Cassian said, nodding. “I… I’ll…be right back.”

“I’d like to come in-.”

Cassian shut the door, quickly set his beer on the table in the entryway, and hauled ass upstairs.

He threw open the door to Nesta’s bedroom, only to found it empty, so he continued on, throwing open the bathroom door.

Where Nesta was still in the tub, completely nude, a book in hand, one hand disappeared beneath the water. Her head was thrown back in utter ecstasy.

Until Cassian barged in, anyway.

“Shit!” he yelled, just as Nesta gasped and sent the water sloshing out of the tub, over the porcelain edges.

Cassian quickly shut the door behind him, closing them into the bathroom together, and put his face in his hands. “Sorry!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she yelled, and he could hear her pulling the plug.

“It’s important, I swear,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands.

“If the house isn’t on fire or Nyx isn’t dying, it’s not important,” she cried, ducking behind the walls of the tub.

“It’s pretty fucking important,” he said, turning to give her a semblance of privacy. He heard her stand up, water moving and quiet dripping, before her feet landed on the rug outside the tub. “The social worker is here.”

She froze and he dared a look back at her. Thankfully, she was wrapped in her towel again, one arm pushed through her robe. “The social worker is here? Now?” He nodded, and she looked at the nearly empty bottle of wine next to the glass on the small table by the tub. It was the second one she’d had that night. “But it’s late,” she protested.

“It’s a random, surprise visit,” he replied. “I left her outside, but-.”

“You didn’t let her in?” Nesta demanded, eyes widening. “Cauldron, Cass, that makes us look so guilty.”

He blinked. “Of what?”

“I don’t know,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “But it doesn’t make us look good.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to do,” he sighed, exasperatedly. “I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to come up here and find you doing that.” He gestured to the tub.

Nesta’s cheeks heated. He figured his own were going to permanently be the shade of red they were now.

No, that was the last thing he ever expected to catch Nesta doing.

“Just… Go let her in and stall her while I get dressed,” she sighed, crossing her arms, waiting for him to leave.

Cassian hesitated, then nodded, and hurried back down the stairs. When he reopened the front door, Alis Birch stood there. Her expression was hard, intimidating.

Cassian could feel himself sweat.

He prayed that Nesta somehow sobered up and got the fuck downstairs, because there was no way in hell he could do this without her.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

let me be your ruler.2

Warnings: guns, dubcon, noncon, handjob.

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (dark!mob!) Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You try to forget about Peter but he won’t forget about you.

Note: I hate that I am the way that I am. I wanted to keep this to two parts but you know me. 

Anyways, I’m excited for this and hope you are too.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Drowsy in the afterglow of sex and alcohol, you fell quickly into a deep sleep. You didn’t even change before you sank into bed. You hardly recalled the elevator ride up or stumbling into your apartment and tripping around the shadows to your room. It was only a fractured journey from the car to your mattress.

You woke as your phone vibrated under your pillow. You must have buried it there before passing out. You groaned and rolled over as you dug it out. There were several notifications next to a single name; Peter. You thumbed through each message; written in the same tone as his voice. Demanding, without question.

‘Great night, Princess.’ ‘We’ll do it again Saturday.’ ‘Wear something nice.’ … The messages escalated smoothly from doting to commanding. It jolted you back to the night before, the way he seemed to just thrust you through the night. The dress, the drinks, the men, the guns…

You sat up, your panties crooked on your hips. You muttered and swiped away the messages. You weren’t seeing him again. You couldn’t. You had stuck your toe in too deep already. It was best to nip these things in the bud. Not to let yourself get dragged in so far you couldn’t see the surface. 

Peter was more than mysterious; he was dangerous.

You went to the kitchen and waited for the machine to grind as the scent of coffee filled your heavy body. You drank too much, did too much. You still felt Peter’s hand between your legs. It made your chest tight and your head spin. You looked down at your body, the red dress wrinkled and askew.

You left the coffee to brew and retreated to your room. You tore off the dress and your panties. You pulled on a cotton shirt and loose pajama pants. You stormed back into the kitchen and shoved the clothing in the bin. You snatched your phone from the counter and swiped up the lock screen.

‘Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work out.’ You typed. Your hand shook as you hovered over send. You heard Halle’s door and you pressed your thumb down. You looked up at her before you pulled up the block option.

“How was your night?” She asked as she inhaled the aroma of your morning ritual.

“Eh, you know, another dead end,” you pushed your thumb down and the conversation disappeared. “Just not my type.”

“Really?” She whined. “He seemed so nice. And he liked you so much.”

You blackened your screen and placed your phone face down. “Well, you know, things don’t always turn out.” You shrugged and pulled out a mug, “You want some?”

“Are you at least going to tell me about it?” She pouted. “And yes, lots of sugar.”

You poured her coffee and handed her the sugar dish. You frowned at how much powder she scooped into her cup but it was her most endearing trait. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t care what anyone thought.

“Uh, well, it wasn’t anything special. He took me to a party but… I don’t know. What kind of first date is that? Take me somewhere I don’t know anyone…” You ran your finger around the rim of your cup. “Maybe when I was younger but now.”

“You sound like such an old lady,” she snickered, “Oh my god!” She stood straight, “Are we old?”

“I am, but you’ll always be young at heart, Hal,” you rolled your eyes.

“So you’re not going to try a second?” She prodded.

“I don’t think so,” you cradled your mug, “He… hasn’t even messaged me back.” 

You hated lying but Halle had gotten you into this mess and you knew she’d harp on you for not even giving Peter a chance. But you had. He wasn’t what he seemed and you didn’t want to stick around and find out what exactly he was hiding.

“What?” She huffed. “Well, fuck him then.” She sipped from her coffee and her lips curved as she swallowed. “Wait, did you…”

“Hal, come on,” you snipped.

“Oh, fine, but you know, maybe if you got laid, you wouldn’t be so uptight.” She teased.

“Not this again,” you groaned and slid your phone off the counter. “You know what, I got work to do.”

“Uh huh,” she hummed as you turned to leave, “Work. When did you get so old and boring?”

“One of us had to,” you called back over your shoulder, “And we both know you’re never growing up.”

✨

Your phone was pleasantly still for the rest of the day. You felt a twinge of guilt having blocked Peter but then you recalled the men and their holsters. You found your mind drifting away from your work and your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought back. 

The company he kept added to the uneasiness in your chest. Steve was friendly but arrogant. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, what was it he introduced you as, “Peter’s girl”. And that man, Bucky. He didn’t seem too fond of Peter but the way he’d grinned at you, as if he knew something you didn’t. Well, he did, they all did. Your head stormed as you tried to figure out their secret.

You shook off the curdling paranoia and hunched as you squinted closer at your computer. You made yourself focus as you skimmed the tight font and added your suggestions in the margin. You sent off your edited draft as your stomach groaned; empty and churning from the acidic coffee.

You grabbed your phone and your mug as you stood. You checked the time. Almost noon. You grumbled and went back to the kitchen, thankfully empty as Halle had left for work an hour ago. You set your cup down and expanded your notifications. A single phone call from a private number and a new follower on your mostly empty Insta.

You opened the neglected app and hit the notification. The profile was emptier than yours. the profile pic was just black and there were no posts. The name gave you no hints as it was obviously generated by the site. 

You went back and a comment popped up on the picture of your and Halle at last year's winter market. ‘Gorgeous, Princess.’ You read and reread the two words as you leaned against the counter. You bit your fingertips and went back to the mysterious profile. You hit ‘block’ and locked your phone.

Surely, he’d get the hint sooner or later. It was one date and the man seemed to have no trouble with women. He’d move on and you’d both forget about that off putting night. You just had to wait him out.

✨

A week rolled by as you kept yourself busy with your work. The phone calls stopped after the first day and you had no more peculiar alerts awaiting you. Your plan had worked. It wasn’t exactly the best; it was a bit cowardly, actually. Yet, knowing how Peter was and how ‘no’ seemed beyond his vocabulary, you had more faith in your evasion than his understanding.

As the weekend approached, Halle convinced you to come out with the girls. You had eluded those opportunities for the past year as you found yourself disillusioned and disinterested in the club scene. You felt as if you were aging out of it and seeing all those fresh-faced coeds assured you of it. Even so, the girls liked to dance and in their words, you need to ‘let loose’.

You couldn’t disagree. You had been on edge and the mounting emails in your inbox didn’t ease the stress of everything else.

With a pre-drink burning a whole in your stomach, you pulled on a pair of flats as your bag hung across your chest. You were comfortable but not stuffy in your tight jeans and the bright pink top with the criss-cross straps. You felt pretty good and the vodka made you optimistic.

You headed down to the street and caught a cab. The dread evaporated the closer you got and as you pulled up to the front of the flashing club, Molly and Desiree waved at your approach. The four of you joined the line as you searched out your ID.

“So,” Molly said, “Halle told us about your little date!”

“Date?” You blinked. “Oh, yeah, that didn’t pan out.”

“Of course,” Desiree scoffed, “That guy was so cute though.”

“Yeah, he was nice, but we just didn’t…”

“He’s ghosting her!” Halle interjected, “Didn’t even text the next day, ugh.”

Halle crossed her arms and you nodded. You weren’t going to correct her, you didn’t need the other two piling on about your dormant love life. You came out to have a good time, that’s what they promised you, and you didn’t want to think about the night that still stood so vividly in your mind.

As you stepped up to the bouncer, he barely looked at your card. You were almost offended as he waved you through and carded the next party more closely. You glanced around at your friends but they hardly seemed bothered. Well, only Halle had reached that big three-o with you, and the other two girls still had a year or two to go.

Madonna’s voice pumped from the speakers as you neared the bar. You looked around at the streaming lights and the bodies shadowed in the strobe. You were surprised you recognized the song and you nudged Desiree as she waited for Molly to order the first round.

“What’s up with the music?” You asked.

“It’s retro night! Duh! Just for you!” She giggled and you elbowed her harder.

Molly turned and passed out the plastic cups with their thin straws and you followed Halle to the low stage where the smoke machine billowed. You coughed at the taste of the fog and sucked on your straw. You began to sway as the other girls led the charge. You could help but be enlivened by the deep base and the energy all around.

As you danced, the girls yelled back and forth about their recent drama. Desiree’s date had been more successful than your own, Molly was certain she was in love with Charlie? You still didn’t know. And Halle was just riding the vibe.

You finished your drink and the other girls stacked their cups in yours before you crossed the stage to leave the garbage on the table just beside the platform. 

You looked over at the bar, pondering another, and your eye was caught by a figure who seemed out of place. The cut of his suit, the way he leaned on hand on a stool, and the intense gaze sent in your direction startled you.

You blinked and stumbled over to the single step down to the floor. You pushed through the bodies, nearly tumbling as a tipsy guy crashed into you. You got to the bar and looked up and down it. Girls waved their hands to get the bar tender’s attention and guys sidled up to them. 

Bucky was gone. It was him. Maybe the air was filled with smoke and the lights were flashing like a siren, but you were certain. Why was he there? How had he found you among the city? Among the reverie in that club? Why had he been watching you? And where had he gone?

You went to where you’d seen him and searched the perimeter of the bar. You went back through the club and slipped past those just getting in. You tapped on the bouncer’s shoulder and he grumbled before he turned and bent to hear you. “What is it?”

“Did you see a guy in a suit leave? Dark hair and--”

“There’s a lot of people here,” he shrugged you off.

You snarled and turned back. You got ahead of the flood of new arrivals and fought your way back to the three girls on the stage. As you walked up, Halle pouted and grabbed your elbow. “Boo, we thought you were getting another round.”

“No, no, I…” you squirmed and tried to get back into the rhythm, “I had to use the restroom.”

“Well, how about now? Wanna refill the tank?” She jibed.

“Uh, sure,” you picked at the purse. “Be right back.”

“Make mine a double,” Molly called after you. “Thanks.”

✨

Despite drowning yourself in alcohol, you barely slept and when you did, you were back in the club, staring at a man you never expected to see again. You wondered if maybe you’d imagined it or if Peter had sent him after you or if it was someone else and you were just tipsy and blind. Whatever it was, you couldn’t shake the foreboding that followed you into the next morning.

Your Saturday was painful and lazy. You spent your hangover on the couch and barely saw Halle as she cowered in the dim light of her room. You fell asleep there and dragged yourself to bed just before nine. You really were old, or at least, getting there.

Sunday slapped you in the face after another night of disjointed dreams. Peter and the room full of men, Bucky at the bar, and static in between. Responsibility called you from your mattress and you cleaned up and dressed for your weekly trip to the grocery store. 

As you came out, Halle was glaring at her phone. “What’s up?” You asked as you shoved your wallet in your purse. “You coming to the store?”

“I got called in for one.” She pouted. “Tell me why I fucked that asshole?”

“Shit, Hal, I’m sorry. Well, I’ll just do the shop myself.” You frowned, “Let you get ready to deal with all that.”

“It’s all because he fucking texted me on Friday and drunk me decided to reply and then… urgh, why do I do this?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me?” You grinned.

“Oh, please go before I throw this at you,” she shook her phone, “And don’t forget my oat milk.”

“Whole milk?” You asked as you slipped your shoes on, “Got it.”

“Don’t,” she warned.

“Alright, alright. Hopefully I catch you before you go,” you stood and grabbed your keys from the hook. “Have fun with Mr. Bossman.”

“Shut up,” she buried her head in her hands, “Oh my god!”

You tried not to laugh as you left. You felt bad for her as you didn’t know what you’d do in her situation. Looking for a new job had been her first thought but the market was never very good and the man who was driving her away, wasn’t exactly a shining reference.

You took your usual route to the grocer. You had your list on your phone and loaded your cart. You filled the reusable bags and set off for a very inconvenient subway ride home. Your arms screamed as you carried the load up your street and struggled to find your keys at the door. The elevator was too slow and you ended up hauling it all up the stairs. You were out of breath as you got to your apartment.

You turned the knob just a little and kicked open the door. You stomped in and dropped the bags. “So, I got your damn milk--” You stopped short as your voice collided with Halle’s. She was already dressed for work but her braids were still loose. She stood behind the couch as she talked to your unexpected visitor.

“Oh, there she is,” she said snappily, “I wouldn’t blame her for kicking you out but I’ll leave it up to her.” Halle turned to you, “Look who’s here. Only took him a week to come around.”

“Hal,” you said softly as you set the bags down. “What--” You lowered your voice, “Why’d you let him in?”

“So he can apologize to you,” she huffed loudly and passed you to close the door, “Don’t you worry, I still gotta finish getting ready so you have lots of time to hear him out.” She looked at him sharply.

“Really, it’s…” You gulped as you peeked over at Peter. He sat calmly in the chair as he watched you. “Yeah, okay.”

She marched into her room and as her door closed, you reluctantly approached the back of the couch where your roommate had just stood. You stared at Peter, uncertain what to say. You hadn’t been prepared for this; for him to be there in your apartment, your home.

“Peter,” you ran your hands over the couch cushions.

“You lie to everyone you know?” He asked. “As I recall, I’m not the one who’s been… ‘ghosting’, as your friend says.”

“I…” You shifted and picked at the seam, “Look, I told you it wasn’t going to work--”

“You barely gave me a chance. Gave us a chance,” he said as he pushed his legs apart. “That’s hardly fair.”

“Well, you know, I have work and it’s just not a good time for me right now.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but--”

“Ha, princess, I don’t hurt so easy,” he smirked, “Why don’t you sit down and we can talk properly… finally.”

You scratched your brow and cleared your throat. “I don’t think we need to do that.”

Your voice trailed off as Halle opened her door again. She swept out and you waited as she scooped her purse off the counter and sidestepped the groceries still sat on the floor.

“Gotta go,” she sang, “I’ll see you after work.” She stopped by the door as she wiggled into her heels, “Let me know how you deal with… him.”

“See ya,” you said quietly and watched her go. You looked back at Peter slowly as he chuckled.

“What did you tell her about me?” He wondered.

“Nothing. Really.” You said. “I have your jacket. You want it back--”

“Sit,” he gestured to the couch. “We’ll worry about that later.”

“No. Peter, please. I’m just not interested, okay?”

“You seemed pretty interested in the car,” he purred, “Seemed real interested.”

“I…” You looked at the wall and squirmed. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You were asking for it in that dress,” he intoned. “Now,” his movement drew your eye as he reached into his jacket, “I don’t like playing things like this.” He pulled the pistol from its holster and rested it on the arm of the chair, his hand firm on the handle. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”

You stared at the gun. Your blood burned hot and you felt blindly as you came around the couch and dropped down. Your eyes never left the muzzle. Would he use it on you?

“Oh, princess, don’t you worry, I’m just getting comfortable.” He taunted. “Now, I’ve been tryna figure out where I went wrong. I got you a pretty dress, I took you to a nice party, I fed you champagne, and I even gave you a little dessert,” he mused and his lip curled, “So I gotta confess I’m confused as you why you’ve been hiding from me.”

You were paralyzed. You clutched your knees and gritted your teeth. You didn’t know what to say. You’d convinced yourself that you’d never see him again. Your method was tried and trued, at least, when it was used against you.

“Don’t be afraid. You can tell me. I really would prefer the truth.” His finger slid along the short barrel as he spoke. “So?”

“I… Peter, I don’t think that we would, uh, work out. Look, I don’t like guns and…” Your lashes fluttered, “I don’t really know that I wanna be around someone who carries one. Not too mention, your friends--”

“My friends. Princess, your mine. They won’t touch you.” He raised his chin. “They’re not that bold.”

You were silent. Your heart pulsed loudly and you took a breath. You stood cautiously and crossed your arms. “Peter, we talked. I told you my reasons. I think you should… go.” You said as firmly as you could.

He laughed again. His cheek twitched and the smile fell away from his face. He rose slowly and turned his gun to tuck it away under his jacket. His eyes never left you as he did.

“You really want me to go?” He asked.

You nodded and held your breath. “Yes.”

He threw his hands out and clapped them against his pants. He shook his head and crossed the room. You turned to watch him as he passed and suddenly, you were thrust towards him. His hand was on the back of your neck as he pulled you against him. He held you tightly and you felt his gun poking through his jacket.

He grinned, his lips only an inch from yours. “I’m going, princess, but not without you.”

“Let go of me!” You struggled with him. “Get off!”

“Princess,” he warned as his fingers dug into your neck, “Settle down.”

“No, I told you to go.” You hissed as you grabbed his wrist. “Please.”

“Let’s get this straight,” he said, “You don’t tell me what to do. Even if it gets me hard.” He crushed his lips to your suddenly and you wrestled with him, your teeth grazing his lip before he pulled back sharply, barely escaping a bite. “You don’t wanna do that.”

His hand went to your chin and he looked you in the face. He rubbed his nose against yours and growled. You beat on his chest and he squeezed tighter.

“Shit, let’s not just rush out of here,” he released you, “You should get those away before they spoil.”

He stepped back and placed his hand on the front of his jacket, where his gun was hidden. You gaped at him and your eyes flitted to the door.

“Ah, don’t worry, we’ll be on our way soon enough,” he said, “So long as you hurry up.”

You swallowed and he moved with you as you went to the bags. He blocked the door as you pulled the straps apart and began to unpack shakily. You dropped a can and it rolled along the floor before he stopped it with his foot. He kicked it back and leaned an elbow on the door frame.

You picked it up with several other cans and went to the cupboard. You snapped the door closed as you felt around the drawer with your other hand. You heard a click and looked to Peter as he aimed his pistol at you. He tilted his head. 

“Don’t do that,” he intoned as your hand lingered just inches from the knives inside the drawer.

You went back to the spread of groceries and tried to ignore him as you put everything in its place. As you bent to fill the crisper, he purred, a sizzly ‘princess’ under his breath. You finished up and packed the bags one into the other. You left them on the counter and again, he put his gun away.

“Princess, let me tell you something,” he gripped the door handle, “I don’t take that out without using it very often so don’t press my patience.” He turned the knob slowly, “I’ve waited on you long enough.”

✨

The car ride was tense and long. Peter drove you uptown and you watched out the window helplessly. You rubbed your palms together nervously as they dampened with sweat. He’d taken your phone when you reached for it. He tossed it and it was somewhere on the floor.

He drove past the condos and the walk-ups and continued on nearly the exact path he’d taken on the momentous night. Another grand house awaited you but you remained in the seat as Peter climbed out. He opened your door and still you didn’t move. He reached across you to unbuckle the seat belt and grabbed your arm. He jerked you out onto your feet and sighed.

“Peter,” you begged, “What’s going on? Please, you’re scaring me.”

“Princess, have I done you wrong?” He asked but you didn’t answer. “I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me right now,” you wriggled your arm and he shoved you ahead of him.

“In,” he demanded as you stumbled up the rounded steps. “Now.”

You opened the door and stepped inside. You crossed the marble floor of the foyer as he directed you from behind. He followed at a pace, close enough that you couldn’t flee. Even if you did, you wouldn’t make it far.

“Pete,” the voice startled you and you stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase. Bucky stood in a doorway to your left. His gaze moved from you to Peter and back again. “I didn’t realise you brought company.”

“You’re still here?” Peter snipped.

“Was I supposed to leave?” He sneered. “You got me and Steve running around and you’re gonna kick us to the curb.”

“You don’t look very busy to me,” Peter growled and neared to rest his hand on your lower back. He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Upstairs, turn left, the room at the very end. I don’t like hide and seek, you got me?”

You nodded and looked at Bucky again. His mouth slanted knowingly and his tongue poked out for just a moment. You turned up the stairs and left Peter behind. You reached the top and listened for a moment to his muffled voice.

“You and Steve do your fucking job and leave me alone. Understand. I don’t want to be bothered.” Peter snarled.

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be interrupted either,” Bucky snickered. “Not with her.”

“Go,” Peter barked. “Now.”

“Ay, you might be Tony’s man but you still gotta watch yourself,” Bucky warned. “This little arrangement isn’t gonna last forever…”

You went to your left and to the door at the end, like he said. You entered and couldn’t help but gasp at the immense bedroom. The black and white decor was expertly matched in marbles and exotics woods, plush velvet and polished sconces. You couldn’t help but admire the luxury.

You didn’t close the door. You glanced around dumbly and stood in one spot as you feared you might break something. You wrung your hands as you heard the steady footsteps and you spun as Peter entered. He looked even more agitated as he cracked his knuckles.

“Sorry about that, Princess,” he said, “Now where were we?” His eyes roved the room as he thought, “Ah, yes, an apology.”

“Apology. I…”

“Should I close the door?” He raised a brow, “You’d be surprised how sound carries in here.”

You frowned and he laughed as he swung the door shut. He neared you and bit the tip of his tongue as he considered you. His brown eyes bore into you and you took a step back. He stayed near and caught your wrist. His other hand fumbled with his belt and he let out a slow breath through his nose.

“Princess, I’d love to treat you how you deserve but you gotta be good to me too.” He pulled on your arm and twisted as you tried to resist. You hissed and he pushed your hand against his crotch. “I don’t forgive easy but I’m sure you can change that.”

“Don’t... don’t make me do this,” you uttered.

“Oh, but princess, you did this,” he pressed your hand around his bulge. “You take care of me and I’ll do the same.”

You parted your lips to argue and he grabbed the back of your head. He kissed you roughly and guided your hand to the top of his boxers. He slid your fingers under the elastic and urged you on, wrapping your fingers around his dick with a groan.

He squeezed until you gripped him firmly. He led your hand up and down as he held you to him, his hot breath filling you as it picked up. He forced his tongue into your mouth and you clawed at his jacket as he kept your other hand around him. He parted from your mouth at last and pressed his cheek to yours.

“Keep going, princess,” he purred as he slowly withdrew his hand from around yours. “You don’t wanna use your hand, I might think of something else.”

You quivered and slid your hand up and down his length. He nuzzled your neck and nibbled as he moaned against your skin. You could only move your hand as you stood against him stunned and rigid. He gripped your waist as you felt him tense and he murmured hungrily.

“Oh, princess,” he breathed and pushed his pelvis against your hands as he came. 

You felt the slick heat seep down your hand and slowed until he was breathless. He stilled your hand with his and carefully eased your hand from his pants. He stood straight and eyed your glistening fingers.

“Shit,” he swore as he caressed your cheek, “You made a mess of this suit.” He dropped his hand to the front of his pants as he smiled. He inhaled and pushed his shoulders back. “I forgive you, Princess.”

[mercurysstars]

All That Glitters Is Not Gold (part 7)

Summary: Y/n gets hired to be the avengers chief physician and also happens to be an ex assassin.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Needles, swear words, reader getting angry.

A/N: Okay y’all so maybe the reader has slight anger issues.

𝘍𝘪𝘹 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨.

_

Y/n suddenly became aware of the very persistent beeping noise in her ear. No matter what she tried she couldn't get it to stop and it was starting to annoy the hell out of her. She cracked her eyes open, the light-flooded her blinding her for a few seconds but her eyes quickly adjusted.

The first thing she noticed was the white plain walls of the Med-Bay. The memories flickered through her head like a flashing light. Y/n looked down to her bandage arm she peeled it back a bit, by looking at her wound she guessed she might have been out a little over a day and a half.

She grabbed the cords attached to her body and yanked them out causing the heart monitor to start flatlining. Wanda shot right up out of a dead sleep at the sound, looking over to make sure her friend was okay. Y/n didn't even know she was there until she spoke up "Oh good you're alive."

Y/n grimaced "Very much so. How long have I been out?"

"A little over a day," Wanda said confirming what she thought. "After FRIDAY alerted us, Barnes got there first to see you all bruised and bloody."

Y/n could tell Wanda was trying to keep the conversation light which she appreciated. She rolled her eyes and chuckled "You should see the other guy."

"Oh trust me I did." Wanda grinned. "I should probably go get bruce though so I'll be right back."

Wanda left her room. Bruce came in and checked her vitals and drew some blood just to make sure there wasn't anything toxic left in her blood. He said that they couldn't use the cradle because it could harm her further so there would be a scar. But Y/n didn't mind much a little bit of meditation and it would be long gone.

Wanda gave Y/n her phone but had to go because Vision needed some help. Y/n was checking some emails and she heard a little sniffle. She looked up to see a red-eyed Peter peaking into her room. She set down her phone and motioned him over. "Hey, Peter what's wrong?"

Peter seemed a little unsure of himself hesitating to speak. He once again sniffles wiping his face with his shirt. In a little voice, he mumbled, "I was scared you were going to die."

Y/n's heart broke into a million little pieces. She didn't know what to say to him. She wanted to comfort him but she didn't know-how. Y/n did the only thing she knew how. Made a joke out of it. "Oh, Pete you know some half-ass assassin can't get the best of me."

Peter chuckled also while hiccuping. He looked down then back at her. He rushed toward Y/n wrapping his arms around her. Y/n slowly wrapped her arm around him the stayed like that for a few seconds. She rubbed his back and patted it. "Can't breathe. Super strength." She choked out.

Peter pulled back standing next to her bed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly "I forgot sorry."

"Don't worry about it. And hey get some sleep I'm the one in the Med-bay and you look worst than me."

Peter promised he would. He gave her a get-well card that he bought with his aunt May. He turned to leave. Bucky was standing in the doorway. Peter told him he could go in and left.

Bucky walked into the room. Y/n's face lit up when she noticed him standing there. "Well look who it is. My savior."

Bucky gave a small chuckle. He looked her over. He can't get the image of her lying limp in his arms out of his head. He doesn't think he's ever been that scared or panicked in his life. It became blurry to him after she passed out. He vaguely remembers carrying her the few feet to the med bay and Bruce ordering someone to get him out. Funny how someone can change your life within a few months of knowing them.

"How are you doing." He breathed out turning serious. He sat in the chair next to her bed setting her clothes on the tabled next to them. He couldn't explain it he felt like it was her fault she was in here. Even if he hasn't done it personally.

"Good, I'm good. How's Alpine? I know she has separation anxiety."

"Well, last night she somehow got into my room again. And right now I think she's with Wanda. I'm pretty sure she sneaks her extra treats."

Y/n and Bucky continued to talk. She genuinely enjoyed his company. There was a feeling that she didn't want to name that started to open up whenever he came around. They decided to watch a movie. Y/n was sitting crisscross applesauce and Bucky had his feet kicked up onto her bed while laying back in the chair.

"You actually liked this movie," Bucky exclaimed. Y/n got to pick the movie and she picked newsies. She thought it was the right thing to choose considering it's about young boys in New York. Though it was a little before his time it was basic Bucky and Steve.

"Yes, it was my favorite movie of my teen years. Believe it or not, I thought their New Yorker accents were really hot."

Bucky laughed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing "No way. They are so bad. They aren't even accurate."

"Hey don't judge. I can't help what my teenage hormones find attractive." She jokingly kicked his feet and he put his arms up defensively.

"I'm not, I'm not. It's just that I don't see you like that type of girl. Back in my day, they use to associate accents with thugs or gangs."

"It's the 21st-century hun. Times are different." She put her non-injured hand on her hip.

Bucky raised his eyebrows and smirked "So I'm seeing."

The buzzing of Y/n phone interrupted their conversation. The caller ID read Anthony Y/n put up a finger to signal to give her a moment. She clicked the accept button and a nervous sounding Tony picked up "Hey Y/n how are you? I heard what happened."

Y/n? He never uses her real. That only means one thing. He did something that could potentially piss her off. She was out for one day and this is what happens. "What did you do Tony."

"Okay look so don't be mad when I tell you. Meet me in the debriefing room in 10." He hung up before she got the chance to object.

Y/n slide to the edge of the bed. She swung her feet over. She attempted to stand up but when she put pressure on her foot she nearly collapsed. Y/n didn't remember hitting her foot or anything but it must have been when she dove over her desk. Bucky put his hands on her waist to steady her. "Woah you okay there doll?"

"Yeah. Can you like?" She made a turning motion with her hand. Bucky immediately stood up and turned around.

Y/n took off her hospital gown. Buck caught a glance of 2 long scars crossing her stomach and what looked like to be a burn on her hip through the reflection of the window. He quickly turned away out of respect. Y/n slide on her pants and cleared her throat. "I'm done."

Bucky turns around and sees her supporting most of her weight on her right foot. "Do you want me to get you crutches or a wheelchair?"

"Why would I do that when I have a perfectly good super soldier right here?"

She hobbled over to Bucky and wrapped her good arm around his waist. He rolled his eyes at her being difficult but put his arm around her. He wouldn't admit it but he secretly liked it and thought it was sweet.

They got down to the debriefing room. Tony was pacing around the front muttering something to himself. Y/n and Bucky took up the last two seats. Y/n's foot was throbbing so she put it on the table to elevate it. They waited a couple of minutes for him to start. Natasha finally decided to speak up getting annoyed "You want to tell us what this was about before you burn a hole in the carpet."

Tony stopped to look at them and started to pace again "Okay so I didn't tell you guys everything. That meeting I had was with the UN. They are trying to get General Ross to be ahead of the Avengers instead of Nick Fury."

He paused to let them take it in. Some were confused, and a couple were mad. "Wait are they just trying to do this since we didn't sign the Sakovia accords?" Steve said what most were thinking.

"See that's what I said but they were talking about some bullshit about us being unorganized and dangerous. And the only way they'd stop it is if someone took a truth serum and I said Y/n would."

Oh, this is why he told her not to get mad. She had to take a deep breath so she wouldn't pull off her shoe and beat him with it. Is he stupid? He's a genius but he can't think before he speaks. "So how does it work?" Clint asked.

"Well, they will hook you up to a lie detector machine and inject you with the truth serum. The way it works is that every time you lie the serum will start to burn and your heart rate will start to accelerate."

"So what all do I have to lie about." Y/n finally questioned. She was chewing her lip in contemplation. She's pulled off worst than this and has had more on the line than this.

"What I know for sure is that I said you've been with us for 2 years, you can't tell them how you got that cut and anything that can potentially get us into trouble. Also, you can't take any strong pain meds."

"So basically she has to have one hell of a poker face," Bucky concluded.

Y/n sighs and rubs her head."How long do I have."

"12 hours until wheels up." Tony better buy me so many boxes of pizza she thinks.

_

Bucky watched as Y/n sat on the floor crisscross applesauce. Her back is the door and the only light in the room is the light from the hallway in the quinjet. Y/n could hear the soft buzz of Bucky's metal arm with her eyes still close she says "You know you can come in Sarge."

That startles Bucky. He walked into the room and sat on the floor taking up space next to her. He looked at her "I came to tell you we are almost there. Are you nervous?"

Y/n thought for a few seconds. Most people in her position would probably be pissing their pants at this moment. Having to go in front of the United Nations and lie straight to their faces. So she answered truthfully "No, no I'm not."

Bucky was surprised. She was genuine in her answer. If it was him he would be having a near stroke. "Really? Anyway so why do meditate it doesn't actually help with anything."

"Actually it does. It helps with my heart rate and it helps me heal faster."

"Oh?" He looked at her expectingly obviously not believing her.

She kicked out her leg and lifted the pant leg to her suit. The bruise was gone and she rotated her foot and wiggle her toes to prove she wasn't in any pain.

Y/n grabbed his shoulder as a crutch to help her get up and grabbed her heels. Bucky looked up at her. "You know I can't seem to figure you out."

Y/n paused and pursed her lips in thought "Somethings are better off left as mysteries." She patted his shoulder and walked out.

_

Wanda, Natasha, and Y/n broke off from the rest of the Avengers, having to go to the medical room so she could get a mini medical exam.

The girls walk through security. Natasha dropped all of her weapons in a bin so she could pick them up later. They put a device around Wanda's neck so she couldn't use her powers. Y/n could see how uncomfortable it made her. She walked over to Wanda and whispered "I feel bad you have to wear that. You didn't have to come."

Wanda looked at her and have a small sad smile "What you're about to do is worst than this. It's the least I can do for you helping us."

Y/n nodded to her. Security officers escorted them to the medical room. They had Y/n sit on a bed. They made her pee in a cup, took her blood, and checked her medical history. Natasha was giving her advice. While she knew most things it was still nice having someone coach her through and remind her of it.

When they finished Wanda went to join the rest of the Avengers. Natasha walked her to the door she adjusted Y/n's suit "You've got this. We'll be supporting you in the crowd."

"Thank you Nat for everything really." She hugged her and Natasha gave Y/n's arm a reassuring squeeze.

Y/n took a deep breath. She stepped into the room. The room was a half-circle shape with large windows behind it. In the back were journalists and reporters. And in the front were the UN personnel were located. Y/n walked past the Avengers and took her seat in the middle of the room.

Y/n could feel everyone's eyes on her. She got blinded momentarily from the flashes of the cameras. She looked over to the Avengers. Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Steve at the end. Bucky in the middle. And Sam, Natasha, Wanda, and Vision on the other end. Wanda gave her 2 thumbs up and Y/n smiled back at her.

Staff came over and started to unpack and hook her up to the lie detector machine. They took off the jacket to her suit and connected wires to three fingers on her right hand. They put a blood pressure cuff on her left tricep and inflated it. Ross stood up and cleared his throat being the room's attention on him.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I'm General Ross and I will be doing the questioning on the behalf of the UN."

He turned his gaze to Y/n. "We're going to test the lie detector first."  Y/n nodded to him and he began.

"Is your legal name Y/n Y/l/n?"

"Yes." Y/n states.

"True." The man in the chair next to her says.

He looked down at the paper he had in his hand looking for his next question. "Very well. Were you born Y/B/D 1995?"

"Yes."

"True."

"Are you nervous?"

Natasha's words come back to Y/n. Lie once. Lie about something small. So they don't get suspicious. Y/n let her heart rate pick up a bit and purposely avoided eye contact. "No."

"Lie."

"It's okay to be nervous. God knows I would." Ross joked a few people chuckled and Y/n had to physically hold back an eye roll. He thinks he got her but in reality, he's right where she wanted.

He nodded to the staff and they walked over to her and began to prep her. They cleaned a small area of her arm with an alcohol pad. "This might hurt a bit." One muttered.

They stuck the needle into her arm and injected the serum. At first, it felt cool but then it hit her all at once it felt like someone poured a pan of grease on her. Y/n's skin was on fire, she bit her cheek so hard it nearly drew blood.

Bucky watched as Y/n closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If it was anything like the Super Soldier serum he knew it burn. She opened her eyes and if he didn't witness it he wouldn't even know it happened seconds ago.

General Ross walked back to the front and began to speak "We are ready to proceed. Did it hurt? I've never tried it."

"Yes." Like a bitch.

"What role do you play for the Avengers? Tony mentioned you've been there for 2 years."

"I'm their Chief Physician." The second part of his sentence was a statement so she missed lying by an inch.

"True."

He asked questions like that for a while or worded them differently. The questions were getting repetitive and Y/n was getting bored and impatient. She hasn't had to lie yet not that she wanted to. Especially not when she has the truth serum from hell injected in her veins.

"Have the Avengers ever put you in any unnecessary danger?" Ross questioned.

"Never." She replied trying not to bounce her leg.

"True."

"Tell me Miss Y/l/n how did you get that cut? It looks pretty deep." He paused seemingly watching for her reaction.

"My cat. She has some pretty mean claws." Y/n stated without missing a beat. She felt the burn of the serum. It wasn't as bad as the injection but damn did it fucking hurt. Despite that Y/n kept a straight face starting to get annoyed with him. She could hear the flutter of the cameras.

"True."

"Would you consider Miss Maximoff unstable in any way, shape, or form?"

Y/n has to stop her eyes from going wide. What the hell kind of question was that besides rude. It's like he wants her to lash out at him. "No."

The man watches the monitor for a few seconds "True." He finally says.

"Would you consider Mr. Barnes dangerous?"

The audacity of this man. You want to see someone dangerous? Let's see how dangerous I am when I choke you out with this cord that's wrapped around my finger- "No"

"True."

"Are you aware of his past?"

"Very much so. And that where it should stay the past. I don't know what you're trying to get at general."

"True."

"Were you aware that we are starting a search for Lilith and anyone with information on her that doesn't come forward will be sent to the raft? And were you aware that if we find her we are ordered to kill on sight?"

Y/n gets a bitter taste in her mouth. This cannot be happening. She can't freak out right now. She clenched her jaw "No I was not aware of either."

"True."

"Very well that's all." Ross returned to his seat among the UN.

The staff came over and unhooked her from the machine. Y/n felt like she could finally breathe. She stood up and walked out without glancing back. The Avengers did the same meanwhile getting swarmed with paparazzi.

Part 8

My mini taglist

@theashlynbarnes @writingonabrokenwall

[goldencuffs]

pen pal

Laurent starts writing emails to inmates in Marlas Penitentiary in his third year of university. The only reason he considers doing it at first is because of Auguste, who writes in one of his weekly emails in the middle of a long, sour summer: These emails help, you know. They keep me sane.

The sadness Laurent feels at reading that is immeasurable. He has to go for a run afterwards, because running is more productive than crying. If Laurent starts crying, he won’t do anything else for the rest of the day. Or week.

He keeps writing to Auguste every week, but as he does so, he feels like he could do more.

A few weeks later, Laurent tells Auguste about it over the phone. Laurent never lies, or keeps things from Auguste. The last time he did, he ruined Auguste’s life. 

Auguste, as usual, sounds tired over the phone, his voice scratchy and low. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Laurent bites his lip, phone pressed against his cheek. He always makes his calls in his room, with the blinds drawn, the lights turned off, the door closed, so the room is washed in darkness. It’s the closest he’ll ever get to understanding how Auguste lives now. This is the only thing he doesn’t share with Auguste, because it would upset him deeply. Auguste always thinks he makes these calls in the open, with the sun beating down on him, the wind through his hair — the kind of life Auguste will never have.

Laurent is acquiescent. He says, “Okay.”

They talk about Laurent’s classes, the new neighbour who has really loud sex, and the cat Laurent is thinking of adopting. Auguste assures Laurent that he is eating and that no one has given him any trouble.

When the call ends, Laurent wants, desperately, to go out on a run. Talking to Auguste always does this to him; leaves him jittery, chest concaved, heart racing. The guilt swallows him. So Laurent punishes himself: he keeps himself locked into his room until the following morning.

Summer ends, but the heat in Marlas is relentless. Laurent and Auguste continue corresponding over email and phone, never talking about things that actually matter.

Laurent gets asked out on a date by Pierre, one of the men who lives in the neighbouring apartments. Laurent says no, and Pierre pushes him, hard, against the wall.

Laurent is left with a large bruise on his bicep. He’s fascinated by the colouring; the purple blends seamlessly in with the blue, which runs into the black. He can’t stop touching it all week, pressing his fingertips down on it until his eyes water.

Pierre is an affable man. He is always polite in the elevators, helps the elderly lady across the hall with her groceries and hosts barbeque parties in the communal area. He hadn’t seemed like the kind of man who couldn’t handle the word no. Then again, Uncle had been like that too.

On Friday, Laurent gets drunk for the first time in eight years.

The following day, he gets to talk to Auguste. Laurent is too hungover to hide his own despondence.

Auguste notices. Laurent doesn’t want to waste their ten minutes on something that will upset Auguste. He will eventually tell him; Laurent doesn’t like keeping secrets anymore.

As the call beeps, letting them know there’s only thirty seconds left, Auguste says. “Look, I’ve been thinking… I think it’d be nice if you sent some of the guys here some emails every now and then.”

Laurent perks up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” says Auguste, a smile in his voice. “But I’m going to send you a list of people, alright? I don’t want you emailing some creep.”

“Of course,” Laurent says, breathless. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love —” The line cuts off.

Auguste’s email drops in his inbox on Tuesday at eleven am, like clockwork. In it, he includes the names of other inmates that are reasonable, suitable. There are five names. Laurent request the email IDs of all of them and sets about writing.

He only gets two responses. One is from a man named Alexon, who says he isn’t interested in corresponding right now, and the other is from Ancel, who writes fuck of. Im not a cherity progect.

Laurent writes Ancel another email, assuring him he’s not a charity project, but that goes unanswered.

Auguste laughs — or Laurent assumes he does because his email says LOL! — when he tells him about it.

So, Laurent goes on the Marlas Penitentiary website. Underneath the How to contact loved ones tab, there’s a link that says: Become a Penpal! Change a life!

Laurent clicks on it.

There are, surprisingly, hundreds of inmates, all of their pictures shown in neat, square boxes, alongside their name, age, sexuality and religion.

Laurent scrolls through dozens of them. He makes note of the younger ones, the ones he might be able to carry a conversation with. He also filters his search to life sentence because Laurent doesn’t want to give someone the opportunity to demand to see him in a few months.

Near the end, Laurent sees him.

It’s hard not to be captivated by his photo. He’s one of the few people smiling in it, and it was obviously taken outside of prison. A large man with curly, styled hair and dark eyes grins at him, teeth white and straight, cheek dimpled. He’s wearing a suit, arms crossed over his chest, arms bulging, shoulders wide. Laurent has never seen someone so attractive in his life — didn’t think people in the real world could look like this, let alone end up in prison.

His profile says: Vallis, Damianos Theomedes. 27. Bisexual. I’m bored in here. I need to keep myself sane. Send me something if you can actually keep a conversation going. Thank you for taking the time to read through this. Sorry I don’t seem nicer. I used to be.

It’s definitely… different. Laurent marks him as a maybe.

Later, Laurent asks Auguste if he knows anyone called Damianos in Marlas. Auguste responds with a, “Nope. And I know pretty much everyone here. So that’s not a good sign.”

“Why not?”

“It either means the dude is a complete recluse, or that he’s barred from most communal activities. Like I said, not a good sign.”

But something about Damianos’ profile keeps Laurent intrigued for the next several days.

He isn’t sure what it is; the picture, of someone who once led an obviously lavish style, or Damianos’ words, I need to keep myself sane, an echo of Auguste’s sentiments. Also the Thank you had been unusual, as well as the I used to be nicer. Laurent used to be nicer, too.

Laurent ends up Googling Damianos’ full name that night.

There are about twenty articles to sift through. All of them detail a violent, horrific crime, where Damianos murdered his own brother in his penthouse.

But even that doesn’t deter Laurent. He remembers how the media, the court, the lawyers had presented Auguste: as someone vicious, cold and calculated, the complete antithesis of how Auguste really was.

The articles about Auguste had been eerily similar. All of them mentioned how shocking it was that a doctor at the top of his game could senselessly murder his own uncle, but very few of them mentioned why Auguste had done it.

They made it out like Auguste was some bloodthirsty maniac, bent on revenge, and not a caring, protective older brother who had been horrified by their Uncle’s actions.

It’s why Laurent decides to give Damianos the benefit of the doubt. If he does end up being a creep, or a weirdo, then Laurent has the luxury of never speaking to him again. He’s not being stupid about this.

His request is fulfilled two days later. Damianos’ email ID is attached at the bottom.

Laurent sends his first email that afternoon.

[bechloeislegit]

My Spy - Chapter 9

A/N: I know, I know. I was supposed to post an update yesterday and I was going to. But, I didn't like the way one part turned out so I had to take a step back and do some editing. I like this version better and I hope you do, too.

The next morning, Beca sat at her little dining room table drinking a cup of coffee. She held a conversation with herself as she thought about the events from the night before.

"She looked and felt so good," Beca thought as she sipped her coffee. "Even a scar on her cheek couldn't take away from how beautiful she is."

Beca's coffee cup hit the table with a thud as she suddenly sat up straight, her eyes wide.

"Scar? How the Hell did she get the scar?" Beca's shoulders drooped as she slumped back in her chair. "There is so much I need to learn about her. Oh, God, why didn't I stay and hear her out? I may have blown my last chance with her, and for what?" Beca stood from the table, mumbling, "I need to find out where Chloe is staying and go talk to her."

Beca sighed as she moved away from the table, leaving a half-full cup of coffee behind. She picked up her phone and pulled up Chloe's number, hitting the call button before she could change her mind.

Beca put on her shoes and grabbed her wallet and keys, putting them in the pocket of her hoodie.

The phone rang once and then went straight to voicemail. Beca left Chloe a message, apologizing for walking out and asking her to call back.

Since Chloe didn't answer, Beca couldn't find out where Chloe was staying. So, instead of rushing out to see Chloe, she threw herself onto the sofa bed to wait and see if Chloe would call her back.

Unbeknownst to Beca, Jason and the Director had started a barrage of calls and texts on Chloe's work cell, and when those went unanswered they started calling her personal phone. Becoming tired of seeing their names on her caller ID Chloe turned off both, so Beca's message sat unheard amidst a sea of unanswered calls and texts.

~~ My Spy ~~

Chloe gave up trying to sleep and sat up. She ran a hand through her hair and looked around for her phone. She saw the two phones on the desk across the room, remembering now why she had them so far away.

Chloe pulled back the blankets and slipped out of bed. She went to the desk and picked up her phones, holding them while deciding if she wanted to turn them on or just leave them.

"Maybe Beca tried to call," Chloe mumbled, as she turned on her personal cell.

The phone immediately started buzzing and pinging with text, missed calls, and voicemail notifications. Chloe sighed and put her phone down, thinking she'd come back to check everything after she finished packing.

Chloe had just finished gathering everything from the bathroom when there was a knock on her hotel door. She glanced at the door briefly before throwing her toiletries into her suitcase. Another small knock sounded.

"Hold on," Chloe called out. "I'm coming."

Chloe closed and zipped her suitcase. She then grabbed it up and took it over to the door. She reached for the door handle as she set her suitcase down. She opened the door and frowned.

"What are you doing here, Uncle Matt?" Chloe said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I know you don't want to see me," Matt said, causing Chloe to scoff. "This isn't about you or me. It's about your Aunt Peggy."

"Aunt Peggy?" Chloe asked, dropping her arms and furrowing her brow. "What about her?"

"She's in the hospital," Matt said.

Chloe gasped.

"What happened? Is she okay?"

"They think it was a heart attack," Matt said, still standing in the doorway. "A nurse from the hospital called and said a neighbor found her lying next to her car earlier this morning. They were running tests and they think she may need to have surgery."

"Oh, my God," Chloe said, frozen in place as she stared at her Uncle Matt.

"Come on," Matt said, taking Chloe's arm. "The jet is waiting to take us home."

"Us? You want me to fly home with you?"

"Of course, I do," Matt said, looking at Chloe. "Peggy would kill me if I didn't bring you home, too."

"I need to get my bags," Chloe said.

Matt stepped into the room as Chloe grabbed both her phones, shoving them into her purse. She then reached for her larger suitcase only to have Matt take it. Chloe gave Matt a small smile and picked up her smaller bag.

"Is this everything?" Matt asked.

"Yes," Chloe said.

Matt turned and started for the door, with Chloe close behind.

The tears Chloe had been trying to hold back ran down her cheeks as they entered the elevator. Matt pulled Chloe to him and rubbed her back.

"She's going to be okay," Matt whispered as he held Chloe until they reached the lobby. "She's a tough old broad."

Chloe sniffled as she held onto her Uncle Matt. She stepped away from him as the doors opened to the lobby. She was surprised to see Jason standing there, waiting for them.

"There's a car waiting to take you to the airport," Jason said, as he grabbed Chloe's suitcases. "Your bags are in the car, Director. The jet will leave as soon as you two are on board."

Matt nodded and put his hand on Chloe's back, guiding her off the elevator.

"Thank you, Jason," Chloe said softly, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Jason gave her a small smile and nodded before turning to lead them outside to the car.

~~ My Spy ~~

Beca was still sitting on the sofa, looking at her phone when Amy came through the door.

"Have you heard anything from Chloe?" were the first words out of Amy's mouth.

"Nothing yet," Beca said, still looking at her phone.

"Um, so, I've been thinking," Amy said hesitantly.

"Are you okay?" Beca asked, having never heard Amy hesitate to ask anything. Ever.

"I'm okay," Amy said. "I was thinking about what you said about the FBI wanting to talk to me about my dad."

"Yeah?" Beca said, looking over at Amy. "What about it?"

"How would that work?" Amy asked.

"I, uh, I don't know," Beca said. "I guess they ask you to go in and then they ask you questions."

"Will I be under arrest?"

"No!" Beca was quick to respond. "At least I don't think so. They'll invite you in for a conversation. You can either accept or decline. It's totally up to you."

"Can I just go in on my own and ask to speak with the agent investigating him?"

"Probably," Beca said. "Are you thinking of going in and answering their questions?"

"I think that's the smart thing to do," Amy said. "Would you go in with me? For moral support or whatever?"

"Sure," Beca said. "When you go in, I think you should ask for Chloe or her partner Jason. Um, I think his last name is Parker. He's the guy who tried to ask me questions when I was supposed to be on that date with Chloe."

"I'm really sorry about how that turned out," Amy said.

"It's not your fault," Beca said. "I'm the one who freaked out and accused Chloe of using me. She tried to tell me she had nothing to do with it, but I wouldn't listen to anything she said. I hope she can forgive me for doubting her motives."

"Can you go with me tomorrow? I want to get it over with."

"I'll call out for work and tell them I have a family emergency," Beca said.

"Thanks," Amy said.

~~ My Spy ~~

Beca sat on the sofa, looking at her phone. Chloe hadn't responded to Beca's text and Beca was worried she really blew it with Chloe this time.

Beca had finally convinced herself to call Chloe when her phone rang. She smiled as she looked at the caller ID.

"Hey, Emily," Beca said in greeting as she took the call. "How are things?"

"Everything is good here," Emily said. "I'm calling because the Bellas are planning a reunion and I wanted to make sure you have time to make arrangements to be gone for a week while we're in Europe."

"Europe?" Beca repeated, sitting up straighter. "Emily, I can't afford to pay for a trip to Europe. I'm surprised any of the girls can afford that."

"Don't worry about it," Emily said. "Aubrey's got it covered."

"How can she afford it?" Beca asked. "I thought she was managing a retreat in the woods. Somehow, I don't think that pays enough to cover expenses for all of us to go to Europe."

"She's not paying for it, silly," Emily said. "The military will be footing the bill."

"I think you left out some vital information, Em," Beca said. "How and why is the military footing the bill for our Bellas reunion in Europe?"

"Oh, sorry," Emily said. "Let me start from the beginning. Every year the military puts on a USO show and Aubrey's dad helps make arrangements for the entertainment. Aubrey got him to add the Bellas to the show. They will fly us all to Europe and put us up either in a hotel or on a nearby base."

"That's amazing," Beca said, perking up a bit. "We'll get to perform for the troops and sing together again? Sounds like a win-win to me. I'm in."

"Great!" Emily cheered. "We'll email you everything you need to know. Then if you have any questions we can take care of them before we leave. Oh, my stars, I almost forgot. The show is being headlined by DJ Khaled."

"Really?" Beca asked. "That's big news."

"There's even bigger news," Emily said. "This is going to be a competition. Khaled is going to choose one group to open for him for a holiday TV special he'll be doing for the troops. And, if all goes well, it could lead to a recording contract with his studio."

"Wow!" Beca exclaimed.

"Wow, indeed," Emily said, giggling. "Can you tell Amy about it? We'll send her an email with the details as well. I'm just giving everyone a heads up so they can make plans to be away from home or their jobs."

"I'll tell her," Beca said. "Thanks, Emily. I'm looking forward to seeing you and the rest of the girls."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you, as well," Emily said. "I have to go. I still need to make a couple of calls."

"Okay," Beca said. "Bye, Emily."

"Bye, Beca," Emily said and ended the call.

~~ My Spy ~~

"Hey, Chloe. It's me again. Um, Beca," Beca rambled. "I, uh, I don't know if you are actively avoiding me because I ran out on you the other night, or you had to leave again for another assignment. Or maybe you just went somewhere to get as far away from me as possible. Whatever your reasons are, I really want to talk to you; to, uh, hear your voice. I do love the sound of your voice. Not necessarily on the phone but, like in person."

Beca paused and exhaled a heavy sigh.

"I want to apologize again for not sticking around to hear what you had to say. I, um, would like to know you're okay. So, even if you don't want to talk to me, could you maybe, just, I don't know, shoot me a text so I know you're okay? Please?"

Beca swallowed loudly.

"I still love you, Chlo," Beca said softly. "I hope we can talk soon."

Chloe couldn't help the smile that came to her face after hearing Beca's voicemail. She immediately texted Beca.

Chloe [9:47 PM]: Hey, I just heard your message. I'm okay now that I know there is still an us. I'm in Portland and know it's after Midnight there, but could you call me when you get this? I don't care what time it is, just please call me. I have so much to tell you. I know talking over the phone isn't ideal, but it's the best I can do for now.

Chloe read the text over before hitting send. She placed her phone on the charger and settled into her bed. Her thoughts were racing as she thought about how scared she was for her aunt and uncle. Her Aunt Peggy was having surgery the next day to have a pacemaker put in. Chloe sent up a silent prayer for both her aunt.

Her thoughts went to her uncle. She and her Uncle Matt had silently set aside their differences to come together for the sake of Peggy. Chloe's thoughts went back to the plane ride from New York.

Chloe sat a few seats away from Matt, not wanting to have to talk to him. She still wasn't over him ordering Jason to crash her date with Beca, especially after she specifically asked him to leave Beca out of it.

Chloe looked at Matt and sighed. He was slumped in his seat staring out the window.

Chloe always thought her Uncle Matt was one of the strongest people she knew. But seeing him like this, looking broken, made her heart hurt for him.

Matt ran his hands down over his face, wiping away the tear that slid down his cheek. If anything happened to his wife, he didn't know if he could go on. She is the love of his life. He glanced back at Chloe. He was ashamed of having ordered Jason to try and get Beca to talk about Patricia Hobart and her father. Chloe had come to him and begged him to leave Beca and Patricia, or rather Fat Amy, out of their investigation and to focus on Fergus Hobart. She had asked that they not use someone who wasn't even close to him to catch him. Good police work would take care of that.

Matt sighed as if he just realized that Beca was to Chloe, what Peggy was to him. He shook his head at himself and stared out the window again.

Chloe watched her uncle and could tell he was hurting. She decided to put aside her anger and got up and moved to where Matt was sitting.

"Anyone sitting here?" Chloe asked with a small smile.

"It's all yours if you want it," Matt said.

Chloe sat down and took Matt's hand, squeezing it. The move startled Matt, but he recovered quickly and squeezed Chloe's hand back. Nothing was said as they continued to find comfort in each other just by holding hands.

Chloe wiped a tear from her eye. She fluffed her pillow and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep in a matter of moments.

~~ My Spy ~~

Beca woke the next morning and grabbed her phone to check it. She wasn't sure if the smile that spread across her mouth was because of the notification that she had an email waiting for her from Emily, or the text notification from Chloe.

Beca's smile faltered a bit as she chewed on her lip. She wasn't sure she was ready to hear what Chloe had to say so she opened Emily's email.

Beca chuckled as she read through the email. She just knew that based on the amount of detailed information, Aubrey had a hand in writing it. Her eyes widened slightly when she read that the tour was to begin in one week.

"That doesn't give us much time to prepare," Beca thought.

"Whoa!" Amy called out. "We're leaving for Europe in a week?"

"Looks like," Beca said, looking over at Amy. "Do you still want to go to the FBI this morning?"

"Um, yeah," Amy said. "Are you still cool with going with me?"

"Yep," Beca said. "What time do you want to go?"

"Let's plan to leave at eleven," Amy said. "We can get lunch after. If that's okay with you?"

"That's fine," Beca said, staring at her phone. She cleared her throat and said, "Um, Chloe texted me."

The night before, after telling Amy about the USO Tour, Beca had told Amy about calling and leaving a message for Chloe.

"What did she say?" Amy asked, looking over at Beca.

"I don't know," Beca said. "I'm afraid to read it."

Amy got up from her bed and took three steps toward Beca.

"Hey!" Beca said as her phone was snatched from her hands.

Amy waved her hand at Beca and pulled up Chloe's text. Beca watched as Amy read, noting that Amy's expression did not change. Beca became slightly panicked.

"What did she say?"

Amy tossed the phone at Beca. "She wants you to call her."

"Really?" Beca asked, looking at the text. "Oh, my God. She still wants to be with me."

Beca immediately hit the call button.

"Hello?" Chloe answered, her voice gravelly from having just woken up.

"Hey," Beca said and then chuckled. "God, I forgot how sexy your voice sounds when you just wake up."

"What time is it?" Chloe asked, trying to see the time on her phone.

"It's eight-thirty here," Beca said, grimacing when she realized it was only five-thirty in Portland. "Sorry it's so early."

"S'okay," Chloe said, yawning. "I did say call me when you got my text."

"So, um, when do you think you'll be in New York again?"

"Not for a while," Chloe responded. "My aunt had a heart attack and is having surgery in, well, just a few hours. I think I'll probably stick around to help take care of her when she gets home. Any chance you might be able to come to Portland?"

"Um, I'm sorry to hear about your aunt," Beca said.

"Thanks," Chloe whispered.

"And about coming to Portland," Beca continued. "The Bellas are leaving for Europe next week to be part of a USO Tour. I don't think I can take any more time off work after that. At least for a while. Maybe a long while."

"I understand," Chloe said softly. "I'm just happy knowing that at some point in the not too distant future, we'll be together. I really miss you, Becs."

"I miss you, too, Chlo," Beca said. She sighed. "I wish I hadn't been so quick to run away from you. We would already be together."

"It's not all your fault," Chloe said. "I'm sorry I didn't make you stay and hear me out. Jason should never have been there and I told my uncle as much."

"Your uncle?" Beca asked.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "I never got the chance to tell you about him. My Uncle Matt is the Director of the team I was on. He's married to my Aunt Peggy. He's also the one who recruited me into the FBI."

"Sounds like we have a lot to talk about," Beca said.

"We do," Chloe said. "I want to hear all about what you've been up to the past few years. And I want to tell you as much as I can about what's been going on in my life."

"I want that, too," Beca said wistfully.

Beca heard a knocking and then a muffled voice calling out to Chloe. She assumed it was Chloe's uncle.

Beca's assumption was confirmed when she heard Chloe call out, "I'm up, Uncle Matt."

"I guess you have to go," Beca said.

"Yeah," Chloe responded. "We wanted to be at the hospital early so we can see my Aunt Peggy before they take her down for her surgery." Chloe let out a breath. "Can I call you later so we can talk more?"

"Absolutely," Beca said. "Call me when you get home from the hospital, okay?"

"Okay," Chloe said, smiling into the phone. "I'll talk to you later. Bye, Beca."

"Bye, Chlo," Beca said. "I, uh, I love you."

"I love you, too," Chloe responded and ended the call.

Both girls sat on opposite sides of the country, smiling as they stared down at their phones and started the countdown to when they could talk again.

After a few minutes, they both sighed and stood to get ready to start their day.

[lalainajanes]

For the square “water park” on my Klarosummerbingo card! Might be my worst title ever but it’s actually better than the original one so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Slip and Slide

Caroline speedwalks through the lobby, weaving around people who seem to think it’s the appropriate place for an early morning stroll. “Hold the elevator!” she calls, ignoring the few disgruntled looks she receives.

She hadn’t been that loud, and she’s nearly late for a critical meeting. It’s the first one with a new client, and she’d hate to make a bad first impression.

She’d had to head to the dry cleaners before work, had gotten caught in a traffic snarl in an area she wasn’t that familiar with, and it had taken her way too long to figure out the detour. She should have left her place earlier.

She gets to the security gates, juggling a garment bag, her briefcase, and a portfolio. Her ID seems to be just out of reach, and she jams her hand further into her purse. Albert, her favorite guard, murmurs, “Take a breath, Ms. Forbes.”

She blows one out, frustrated. Rolls her shoulders in an attempt to relax. “Sorry. I’m just…”

“Stressed? I can tell.”

Yikes. Caroline hopes that doesn’t mean her hair has exploded.

She smiles weakly, “Big day today.”

A brand new project, after the last one had been a disaster. Caroline’s comfortable with stress, thrives on high stakes, but she could totally use a win.

Her fingers touch the familiar edge of her badge, and she pulls it out triumphantly. She taps it on the sensor, walks through the revolving gate. “Good luck, Ms. Forbes,” Alfred murmurs as she passes.

It’s a little thing, but Caroline feels a little better knowing someone’s rooting for her.

She’s relieved to spot that one of the elevators is open, a man holding the door, his eyes on her. She doesn’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything. The building has 55 floors, offices for more than two dozen companies within it. He’s dressed in a suit, like the vast majority of the men she sees in the building. His is nicer than most, charcoal grey, perfectly fitted, with a very subtle pinstripe that she only notices when she gets closer. Caroline hurries into the car gratefully. She leans forward, punches 32. “Thank you so much,” she says to him, turning so they’re shoulder to shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The man on her other side makes a noise, a tiny scoff. Caroline glances at him quizzically. He’s stoic, eyes forward, but she’s sure there’s a hint of amusement on his face.

An arm brushes against hers, drawing her attention. “Feel free to ignore him,” the man who’d held the elevator says. His voice is low, smooth and she’d be charmed by the accent if they’d met in a social situation.

Or any situation, if she’s honest.

“My brother would probably describe me as more of a troublemaker.”

Huh. She hadn’t have figured brothers. They’ve both got attractive and well-dressed going for them but little other familial resemblance. Caroline’s head swings back, “Are you a trouble maker?”

His amusement is plain. His full lips curl, and deep dimples appear in his cheeks.

Oh yeah. Definitely a trouble maker.

“I’m about twenty minutes early for my meeting today; how much of a trouble maker can I be?” His tone is playful, a touch too innocent to be believed.

Damn it. Caroline does not have time for an attractive man this morning. At least she hadn’t changed into the frumpier outfit in the garment bag. Hopefully, she’ll run into this guy again.

“I think I need more info. Could be a one-time thing. I’m almost late for my meeting, which is wildly out of character.”

“Not the trusting sort, are you?”

Caroline shrugs, raising her brows expectantly.

He laughs briefly, “Well, I did send an email ahead to inquire about the coffee preferences of the team I’m meeting. I’m stopping at one of the cafes to pick it up now. Would a troublemaker do that?”

“Hmm, maybe. Could be an underhanded tactic to get on a good side before the trouble starts.”

Dimples’ brother chimes in again, dry this time. “I believe your assistant sent that email. And that she learned the practice from my assistant.”  

Dimples glowers, and Caroline must admit this is a delightful distraction from her anxiety. She glances up at the panel above the door and is disappointed to find they’re almost on her floor. “If you’re going to the café on 36, I recommend the oatmeal raisin cookies. Most people go chocolate chip. Trust me, that’s a mistake.”

The elevator pings, the doors sliding open. Caroline smiles, hitches her briefcase higher on her shoulder. “This is me. Thanks again.”

The receptionist spots Caroline, stands up, a sheaf of papers in her hands, and Caroline’s reminded about how much she has to do. She hurries out, her heels clicking across the shiny tiles of the lobby.

She still glances back at the elevator, can’t help smiling, pleased, when she finds her new friend from the elevator watching her as the doors close.

Even if she never sees him again, he’d made her morning a little brighter.

Now, though, it’s time to work.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, Caroline’s pacing in her office. She’s pinned her hair back and changed into the purple pantsuit she’d picked up at the dry cleaners. It’s a great color but not the most flattering fit. The pants are fine, but the jacket’s boxy, and she’s wearing a plain pink blouse underneath, buttoned to her throat, a thick silver necklace threaded through the collar. There’s a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and she’d changed into sensible flats.

She’d learned her lesson last time, at the first meeting where she’d been the project lead. She’d been called ‘Honey’ and other more annoying pet names and asked to serve coffee and fetch snacks. She’d received skepticism when she’d introduced herself. By the end of that first meeting, Caroline had wanted to scream her credentials – a B.A. and a Master’s in Civil Engineering, a whole pile of certifications, several prestigious internships, and stellar work references, thank you very much – at most of the people in the room.

Ultimately, the project had been successful, but Caroline had experienced frequent bursts of frustration that bordered on rage. Her suggestions were met with questions that made it clear her intelligence was doubted, her corrections with condescension, even though she’d usually been the only one in the room with any significant scientific expertise.

Expertise that’s kind of crucial in designing a water park. It wouldn’t have been a good look, or a sound investment, if guests were to end up injured or dead after paying exorbitant ticket prices and expecting a fun day.

Her skin has thickened considerably, but Caroline hopes that’s less necessary this time. Her boss had assured her that this job would be easier, and Caroline’s choosing to believe her. It’s even potentially exciting – these clients own several international resorts, the park she’s pitching on will be built in Spain.

Being project leader, she’d traveled to oversee construction on the nightmare build, but Tennessee doesn’t carry quite the same appeal as the Spanish coast, at least from the photos Caroline’s seen.

At the very least, it can’t be a worse experience. She hopes.

She hears Katherine coming her way, takes a final deep breath before Kat breezes into her office. “What are you wearing?” Kat asks, sounding both mystified and vaguely disgusted. She pauses in front of Caroline, fingers pinching her lapel and tugging. “Is this polyester?”

“Maybe. I thrifted it.”

Katherine’s face twists in the sort of revulsion one would expect if Caroline confessed to grave robbing the ensemble.

“Ew, why?”

“Figured I needed a costume. To make sure that this time, no one in there thinks to call me ‘sweet cheeks.’”

She’d been paired with another designer last time, Matt Donovan, who was a nice enough guy but had been pretty useless in the having her back department. Caroline likely wouldn’t have cried into her Ben and Jerry’s quite so often had Katherine been her partner. Kat has the unique and impressive ability to make demands and issue orders and have people thank her for it.

Kat snorts, “Elijah Mikaelson would never. He’s aggressively polite. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I doubt Niklaus would either. I assume he has the same hot accent.”

That’s a new name. Caroline doesn’t like surprises. “And who is Niklaus?”

“A brother. And a business partner. He wasn’t originally scheduled to be here but is unexpectedly in town. What do you think the British equivalent to sweet cheeks is?”

Caroline’s eyes go wide, a few puzzle pieces clicking together. British brothers, twenty minutes early for a meeting. What are the odds?

Crap. Had she been flirting with a client? In front of another client?

There’s a tap at the door, her boss’ assistant’s head poking in, “They’re ready for you in the conference room.”

Ugh. Maybe she’s cursed.

* * * * * 

The presentation goes fantastically.

Katherine had been correct – the Mikaelsons don’t seem to labor under the misapprehension that a conventionally attractive blonde woman can’t grasp complex concepts. They’d shaken her hand when she’d arrived; Niklaus (or Klaus, as he apparently prefers) had looked a bit puzzled when they’d been introduced, Caroline had chalked that up to the outfit. He’d said it was nice to see her again. Explaining her mad dash to the elevator, and Klaus’ assistance, to the room had broken the ice nicely.

Kat kicks them off, and her design is gorgeous; Elijah and Klaus appear suitably impressed. When it’s Caroline’s turn, her nerves fall away by her second PowerPoint slide. She knows her stuff backward and forward, and she’s incredibly pleased with her innovation.

She also begins to feel less bad about the flirting once she sees that Kat throws Elijah a few looks that are borderline inappropriate for the office (that he seems pretty pleased with).

They ask questions, pour over the mock-ups and technical drawings Caroline and Katherine had prepared. Their ideas are actually good, which is a nice contrast for the last project. She’d done far too much lying and finessing to attempt to steer the previous park into a less terrible direction. The Mikaelsons have far fewer notes than Caroline had anticipated, and she promises to put together an update ASAP. They schedule another meeting.

She thinks Klaus’ handshake lingers when they say goodbye, but maybe she’s just riding high on adrenaline and imagining things.

She kind of hopes she isn’t. It’s probably too messy to date a client, but a girl can fantasize, can’t she?

Caroline helps herself to the cookie tray, pleased by the generous helping of oatmeal raisin she finds. Kat’s disappeared, but she knows their boss will want to debrief. Caroline collapses into one of the conference chairs, pulls out her phone to check her messages.

She replies to a few emails before she notices one that’s just arrived.

 Hello Caroline,

I enjoyed your presentation today. I look forward to the next.

Warmly,

Klaus

 She grins to herself, slumps lower in her chair. Clearly, she hadn’t imagined anything if Klaus is emailing her when he’s barely out of the building. She takes a risk and sends a slightly more casual reply than she’d usually attempt at this point.

If he reacts badly, she can up the formality later on. If he doesn’t, well… she’s only fostering a good working relationship. That’ll be essential if they land this contract.

And she’s like 90% sure it’s in the bag.

 Hi Klaus,

Thank you!

The photos your team sent over of the location were gorgeous; both Kat and I were inspired. I think this is some of our best work to date. I’m excited to dive into the updates and meet again next week.

Best,

Caroline

P.S. Thanks for the cookies.

His reply comes minutes later.

Caroline,

I believe it. Your work is impressive, as I’m sure your new ideas will be. Have you ever been to Spain? The pictures hardly do it justice.

Warmly,

Klaus

P.S. You’re welcome. Which coffee order was yours?

 Well, that’s the opposite of a bad reaction.

Caroline sets her phone aside, tells herself she has to be smart here. She’s reasonably sure she’s not doing anything that’s prohibited. The emails will speak for themselves, and they live on the company server. Neither she nor Klaus are offering anything untoward for the contract. If things go well, she may just have to fill out an HR disclosure form. She’ll double-check the firm’s code of conduct.

Just in case.

[thefloorisbalaclava]

pragma - part one

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Female reader

Warnings: none for this part

A/N: My brain wouldn’t let me rest until I started writing this story that’s been floating around my head for awhile. I hope someone likes it. And please let me know what you all think :)

Summary: Your lives took you in two different directions but when you meet again you realize time hasn’t done much to rid you of the feelings that once held everything together.

 pragma masterlist

The rain had been coming down in sheets the day you decided to go back to the place you had called home for eighteen years of your life. You swore you would never come back when you first left five years ago, but here you were—and nothing seemed to change. The house you grew up in was still standing and most of the mom and pop shops were still going strong—something that made you smile.

If anyone had asked why you left, you wouldn’t be sure what to tell them. The real reason was a childish one, now that you look back on it, but back then you were truly hurt. Now that you had lived through a marriage and were going through a divorce, you liked to believe you were stronger. You had done well for yourself and it wasn’t easy, but you always told yourself that relying on others was never an option.

You pulled into the parking lot of the small pub that you frequented with friends all those years ago. You wondered how they all were. The last you heard they were military men and that didn’t surprise you at all.

You got out of the car and turned on the alarm, cautiously eyeing the men who stared at you and your car in a way that made you suspicious. Yeah. It had been too long. That type of thing would have never bothered you back then.  

The bar was bustling—typical for a Friday evening, but you found yourself a table in the corner. You ordered a beer and took in your surroundings. Not much had changed except for the bartenders and the tables were nicer. You smiled when you thought of the time you and your buddies used fake IDs to get in and got found out immediately. It had always been you, Santiago, and…Frankie.

Frankie.

Now, we’ve come to the reason why you had avoided this place for so long. Yes. A fucking man. You had let a man get to you so badly that you ran far away and never looked back.

Until now.

Until now.

You sipped your beer and took out your phone to check your email. Most of them were from your divorce lawyer these days. You never knew it would be this hard to get a man to sign divorce papers. No matter how many meetings and mediations you two went through, he still found a reason to keep dragging this out. You didn’t want to think about how much money you spent over this these past few months. Just as you put your phone down on the table and put your head in your hands, someone called your name over the din of the bar. You searched for who it could have been but couldn’t find them until he called your name again.

“No fucking way!” he exclaimed as he made his way over to you.

“Santiago?!” You stood and he kissed your cheek before pulling you in for a long hug.

“Hermana…I can’t believe it’s you.” He held you at arm’s length and shook his head. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Just…visiting,” you said. Why were you there?

“How long has it been?” he asked.

“Too long. How have you been, Santiago?” You grabbed his hands and squeezed. You hadn’t realized how much you missed him until he was standing in front of you.

“I’m good.” His face said otherwise but you weren’t going to press it. He looked down at your hand, feeling the ring you still wore.

“Ah, look at that! My little hermana all grown up and married.”

“Eh…for now. What are you doing here?”

“Met up with Frankie for a few drinks.” You stiffened at the sound of his name. “Said he had to go to his truck for something…oh, there he is. Frankie!”

You couldn’t look up. Santiago still held your hands which kept you grounded for the most part but right now you wanted to run and hide.

“Look who I found,” Santiago said enthusiastically. Maybe he didn’t remember what happened all those years ago. But you hadn’t. You never would.

Frankie said your name and you finally looked up. “Hi,” he said awkwardly, putting his hands in his pockets. That hat. You got him that hat. He still wore it?

“Frankie…hey.” You forced yourself to smile though there were tears swimming in your eyes. Santiago had finally let your hands go and you grabbed your arm sheepishly. Frankie’s eyebrows shot up and you knew he had saw it—the ring.

“How you been?” he asked trying to look you in the eye but not being able to take his eye away from the rock on your finger. “Good it looks like.” He nodded at it.

“Oh…uh…yeah, I guess.” You tucked your hand into your jacket pocket.

“Let’s get a pitcher for the table.” Santiago walked away to order the beer and left you and Frankie standing there.

“How have you been?” you asked.

He shrugged and scratched at his scruff. “I’m okay.”

You sat back down but Frankie hovered until Santiago returned with the beer and glasses. “Cat, why are you just standing there? Sit down.” Santiago took the seat across from you, so Frankie was stuck sitting in the chair beside you.

“Santiago…”

“Why so formal?” he teased. “So, why didn’t we get an invite?” he asked as he passed you a glass of beer.

“Oh…um…it wasn’t a big thing…” That was a lie. It was a huge destination wedding.

“Maybe she was ashamed of us. Didn’t want us around all her new rich friends,” Frankie bit out. You rolled your eyes at him and drank your beer.

“You guys were all busy with your army stuff,” you said, and Frankie scoffed. “It doesn’t matter now anyway.”

“Well, are we ever gonna meet the guy?” Santiago asked.

“No.”

“Why? Are we not good enough?” Frankie snapped.

You turned and looked directly into his eyes. “Because I divorced him!” You stood and finished your beer before slamming the glass on the table and walking out. Your hands shook as you pulled your keys out and tried to press the button to turn the alarm off. The keys fell from your hands and you cursed loudly. As you bent to pick them up, you were met with a familiar pair of boots. You grabbed the keys and avoided his gaze as you stood.

“Look…I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Frankie mumbled.

“No, you were too busy trying to make me feel bad,” you retorted. You shook your head and sniffled. “What happened to you, Frankie?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just wasn’t expecting the woman who broke my heart to show up today.”

You wanted to scream at him and call him every name under the sun but instead you calmly approached him then pulled on the bill of his cap.

“It was good seeing you, Frankie.” You turned away but he spoke again, stopping you in your tracks.

“Why’d you do it? Why’d you leave?” he asked. The rain had begun again as if it felt your sorrow.

Because of you, you wanted to say. Instead, you shook your head and smiled sadly. “I was getting nowhere staying here.”

“I thought about you every day…all those years,” he revealed. “You ever think of me?”

“Of course I did.” You lowered your head. “I should go.” You got in your car and started it as Frankie knocked on the window. You rolled it down and waited for him to speak.

“You gonna be around?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask you something? Why do you still wear the ring if you’re divorced?”  

“I guess I just got used to wearing it.” You sighed before continuing. “And I’m not officially divorced yet,” you confessed.

“What does that mean?” He bent to stick his head in the window slightly.

“He won’t sign the papers,” you mumbled.

“Why not?”

You smiled then shrugged. “He loves me.”

“He’d be a damn fool if he didn’t.”  

You giggled shyly then reached into your pocket to pull out your phone. When you handed it to him, he looked at it then at you.

“Go on and put your number in.”

He smirked. “This is a little different than scribbling it down on a piece of paper and passing it around in class, huh?” He put his number in and handed the phone back.

“Yeah,” you laughed.  

“So…you better use it now that you have it,” he said pointing to the phone. “Even if it’s only for one of our late night/early morning talks. Remember those?” He smiled fondly.

“I was always getting in trouble for being on the phone with you…but it was worth it.” Something came over you and you touched his face gently. “You haven’t changed.” You still saw the boyish charm in his eyes that drew you to him in the first place.

“I changed a little…”

“Yeah, maybe the hair. And this scruff.” You pulled at it softly. “And look at that…someone’s a little grey,” you teased.

“Yeah, ha ha.” He pushed your hand away and rubbed at his beard.

“You guys should drop by some time. I’ll text you my address. It’s only about forty-five minutes away.”

“You’ve been forty-five minutes away this whole time?” he asked.

“Yup.”

“You gotta go like…right now?” There’s the Frankie you remembered. Not quite able to just say what he wanted to say.

“If you want me to stay a little longer just ask.”

“Alright. Stay a little longer, please? If you drink too much me and Pope will make sure you get home okay.” He stood up straight as you opened the car door.

“Just like old times.” You looked at him. “Speaking of old, I can’t believe you still have that cap.”

“I can’t believe it still fits my fuckin' head.” He held the door for you as you walked inside and headed back to the table where Santiago was still seated.

“What the hell were you two doing? I was ready to send a search party out.”  

“We were…catching up,” you said which was partly true.

“She asked for my number,” Frankie bragged. “I think she likes me.” You nudged him and you all laughed.

“Damn, I missed this,” Pope said.

You smiled at him then looked at Frankie. “Me too.”

****

After five pitchers of beer and a lot of conversation, you sat in the backseat of your car drunkenly listening to Frankie and Santiago argue about what they were doing.

“How the hell do you start this thing?” Frankie asked.

“It’s a push start…I think. Yeah…that button right there.” The car started and you laughed loudly. Both men looked back at you.

“Why do you have to drive such a fancy piece of shit?” Frankie complained.

“Oxymoron!” you exclaimed. “I think…”

“We taking her home?” Pope asked.

“I don’t know where she lives.” After some contemplation, Frankie spoke again. “She can, uh, she can stay with me. I got that empty room…”

You couldn’t keep your eyes open after that and gave into sleep.

You opened your eyes when you felt yourself being pulled then lifted. “Santiago?”

“It’s me. It’s Frankie.”

“Oh. You smell good.” You buried your face in his shirt as he carried you. “Are we home?”

“We’re at my place.” He struggled with getting his keys out and unlocking the door but refused to put you down.

“Why?” You suddenly remembered what happened the last time you were at his house years ago. You weren’t drunk though and there were a lot less clothes involved.

“You need to sleep this off. You can go home in the morning.” Once inside, Frankie carried you to the end of the hall and pushed the door open with his foot. “Here.” He laid you down and you held onto his hand.

“Are you gonna lay with me, Frankie?” He was tempted. God, was he tempted, but he shook his head and stood up straight.

“Not like this,” he said quietly. He covered you with a blanket and kissed your forehead. You reached up and scratched at his scruff. His eyes closed but he reluctantly pulled himself away. “Goodnight.” He waited until you fell asleep again before walking out of the room, leaving the door cracked just a bit. His dreams would be full of you tonight though he knew you wouldn’t dream of him.

But you did.

[two]

[anotherimaginethatblog]

cruise

Pairing: Kenny x OC

Summary: this is cheesy af with all the clichés, but I could not help myself. apologies in advance for the ending. its not my fave but there maybe a part 2.🤷‍♀️ - you and Kenny have had a flirty friendship for years, neither admitting to feelings until a room mix up on the Jericho cruise forces someone’s hand

You would never publicly express it, but you had been excited for this for months. The cruise was the highlight of many pro wrestlers’ year, it was hard work and tiring but also kind of like a vacation. You had sold it yourself as a work trip, when Kenny had asked if you would be attending you gave your usual nonchalant shrug and said, “don’t know I’ll see”, you really wanted to go but the thought of being trapped on a boat with Kenny was hell to you, I mean it is bad enough having a thing for your friend but a friend that you can’t escape? Yeah.

He looked disappointed you noticed, to you he was a good friend you had met on your first tour of japan, hed showed you around and the conversation and good times had flowed. You kept in touch, talking every day, and to Kenny it was a way to feel close to you, the truth was he really liked you and he figured that friendship was better than nothing so over the years you settled into your usual routine of dinner, exploring and video games whenever you happened to be in the same place together. Neither being brave enough to make a move more than the odd kiss goodnight that you would awkwardly forget the next day.

A few days after your non-committal response to Kenny you had replied to the email booking you for an appearance on the cruise, you figured it would be fun and since the boat was so big the chances of actually having to run into him where slim. You were amazing friends, but you were afraid of your feelings getting in the way and ruining what you had spent so long building. The thought of losing him was too much to bear, that and the million questions you would have from your mum if you told her you and Kenney had fallen out. She was convinced he was the perfect man for you, something you denied to her face every time while thinking how right she was in your head.

Arriving at the docks in Miami you had already bumped into a few familiar faces who seemed surprised you actually come along, none more so than Kenny of all people who you just happened to run into while waiting to check in “so much for ill see (Y/N)” he said teasing you.

“hey you” you shot back with a smile “I figured why not, I mean who doesn’t love the Bahamas and being surrounded by fans at every turn” you said turning to look at the mass of fans outside dying for a glimpse of their favourite wrestler.

“and there was me thinking you just wanted to hang out” he laughed. “I’m glad you’re here though, really I am” he replied, you could hear the sincerity in his voice and it gave you a warm feeling that no matter how much you tried to push away, would not leave your body.

“booking under (Y/N)” you said as you stepped up to the desk.

“one moment let me just get my supervisor” said the assistant behind the desk, after completing multiple attempts to book you in. this was not your first rodeo, and you knew this never ended well. “I’m so sorry miss, we have your reservation but I’m afraid due to a mistake you haven’t been allocated a cabin” the poor girl told you, the look on her face bracing herself for your wrath.

“okay, so where am I supposed to sleep? A lounger on deck?!” you replied attempting to keep your cool.

“what’s up?” Kenny cut in before you could continue your tirade at the poor girl behind the desk.

“so, I’m booked on the cruise but they don’t have a cabin for me, I mean how does that even work” you sassed looking directly at the assistant.

“just stay with me, I have a suite so there’s room, you take the bed ill sleep in the lounge its fine” he said.

“you can’t sleep on the couch in your own room Kenny, ill just call the agent and let them know I’m cancelling, I’m not doing this” you quickly answered him

“woah, wait. You cant cancel and your here now, it’s not like we haven’t roomed before it’ll be fine” said Kenny softly grabbing your arm to stop you leaving.

“fine, if that’s okay I will. But I’m not happy about it no offence” you added.

“none taken” said Kenny as he approached the desk.

“what’s up with you?” asked matt Jackson as you were waiting for Kenny to finish sorting your situation

“well….cruise line messed up my booking, sharing with Kenney’s you started

“check in girl flirting with your boyfriend” matt interjected.

“wow, no, okay why would you even…” you trailed off. Matt wasn’t stupid, hed known you and Kenny long enough to see the way you looked at each other and knew you where both stubborn enough to not do anything about the sexual tension between you two.

“look, I see the way he looks at you and you at him, plus the way you act around each other you may as well be dating” he said “just do yourselves a favour and work your shit out” he finished before walking off to talk his family.

Kenny approached you after standing back so he could watch you and matt talking, he wasn’t dumb, he knew what matt had said to you. He said it to Kenny often enough “ you ready to go” he said smiling at you offering you your own key to his suite.

“sure I need to change after travelling all day anyways” you said trying to act cool but you knew you where coming across as a bitch.

After making your way to your room, arguing over who was taking the bed (Kenny insisted you take it) and a quick shower and change you where finally doing your favourite thing; sitting in the lounge with a large tequila and tonic. Kenny was nursing a coke zero, he didn’t drink but being around you when you did made all those feelings begin to bubble to the surface, because he knew what was coming. When you drank you got chatty, and you made him promises you (and he) knew you wouldn’t remember in the morning. “stop looking at me like that, it makes me nervous” you told him laughing

“what?! I cant look at you now” he laughed “you shouldn’t be so pretty” he finished making you blush but want to leave immediately.

“why do you do this?, tease me then go back to just pretending we can only be friends” you stated oblivious to the gang sat around the table with you. You got up to leave and Kenny could only stare open mouthed not sure how to reply.

“(Y/N) come back I didn’t mean to upset you” he pleaded, you knew he hadn’t but you couldn’t take another round of the flirting that would lead to a kiss before you both woke up the next day pretending it hadn’t happened.

“go after her you dumbass” hangman said over the rim of his glass “secretly that’s what women want when they make that dramatic exit” earning laughs from your friends around the table. Gingerly Kenny got up and made his way to your room, if things got too awkward he could always room with hangman or nakazawa.

“(Y/N)” Kenny softly said knocking on the bedroom door “open up for me, I’m sorry I upset you. I just cant do this anymore” he said sadly.

“do what, you don’t want to be my friend anymore?” you asked sadly, stepping out the room closer to him. You where not drunk by any means but the strong drink had made you a little brave and he stiffened when you gently touched his shoulder leading him to sit on the couch.

“no, (Y/N). I don’t want to be your friend anymore” he replied. “I want more, id be lying to myself and you if I wasn’t honest. Its killing me to lie, I think we can be more than friends, we are both adults and I’ve wanted more for a long time. If you don’t that’s cool, but I cant do this anymore I’m sorry” he blurted out, all his words coming out at once. Looking visibly relieved and worried all at once.

You knew he was right, you had got to know each other on a level so deep you where practically a long distance couple, suddenly that bravery lept up and out of you and before you knew it you kissed him. He was shocked at first but soon returned it, deepening it “ we really gonna do this (Y/N)” he asked breathless “we gonna make out then pretend we didn’t over breakfast”.

“no, not this time” you replied kissing him again. “I’m sorry weve danced around each other for so long, I should have had the balls to tell you how I felt” you told him staring into his eyes, he could see all the sincerity and vulnerability you had in you at that moment and he knew you could see the same in his.

“I want this to work” said Kenny, “I want you (Y/N)” he stated,

“right now, here on the couch” you smirked, he knew your humour and knew you full stop. “at least take me out to dinner first” you teased .

“you know what I mean” he replied giving you that jaw dropping smile of his “but I mean, if you’re serious. I could eat” he laughed.

“shut up omega” you laughed kissing him again, he moaned into the kiss and you knew that was a sound you wanted to hear again. Maybe the cruise messing up your room was fate you though to yourself. Before getting distracted by some wandering hands.

“I was serious about dinner though ken” you deadpanned after breaking the kiss Making him laugh. Which was slowly becoming your favourite sound … after the kissy moaning.

[writer-k-pop]

Crushing Phonecalls

언젠가 업보가 그를 찾아올 것이다. Someday karma will come for him. 

Description: Anxiously waiting for the proposal decision from your workplace, you go and visit Jimin in the practice studio, hoping to take your mind off of the impending decision. But a phone call in the middle of their practice crushes your soul. And the following phone call does nothing to help it. But Jimin decides to say something about it. Warnings: Swearing, some verbal workplace bullying Genre: Angst, Fluff, Idol!Jimin x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2k

BTS Masterlist | Masterlists

"Heyyyy!" Jimin greets me happily as I walk into the practice room.

"Hello, there." I smile and open my arms just before he barrels into me.

"Hey, (y/n)." Jungkook waves a hand at me and the others give me smiles and waves as well.

I wave back with Jimin still holding onto me. "Hey guys."

"Did you get done with the proposal?" Jimin asks, pulling back but keeping his hands on my shoulders.

I nod, my body still buzzing with nervousness. "I don't know if we'll get it though." I sigh.

"Why not?" Jimin tilts his head to the side, "You worked so hard on it. i'm pretty sure that kind of hard work will get picked."

"The other proposal is made by Ashton, the CEO's son." I shrug and my shoulders want to cower away from the thoughts that flood my mind.

"What does that matter?" He wonders and pulls me out of the way of the door.

"He, uh, has often pulled strings for his son." I scratch the surface of the real reason.

"What does that mean?" He asks in a low voice, keeping the conversation from curious ears.

"It's nothing." I smile at him, wanting to keep my more serious work troubles away from him.

"No, I want to know." He pushes with concerned eyes, "Is he hurting you?"

I hesitate before shaking my head, "Not physically." I sigh, "He just makes it a point to berate me and my team, and degrade our work."

"That little shit." Jimin says through gritted teeth.

"It's fine, Jimin." I reassure him, "My manager told me that our proposal is really good and all the other department managers like my proposal better, so I shouldn't worry. But I do."

"You're nervous. That makes sense. You worked for weeks on this." Jimin nods, "I mean, if the managers are all on board with your proposal then maybe that little shit will be put in his place. When do they decide?"

"They're having the meeting today but I don't know when they'll inform us of the decision." I tell him with an attempt at a reassured smile.

"You'll let me know the outcome?" He asks, "I want to celebrate with you when they choose your proposal."

My smile changes to cover up my doubt and, from what I can see, Jimin buys it. "For sure."

He smiles and gives me a cheeky smile. "Good." He presses a soft kiss to my cheek.

Jin claps his hands loudly at us and Jimin whips around, "Yes?" He drags out the word dramatically.

"Chop, chop. I have dance moves to learn." Jin says and puts his hands on his hips, giving back the sass that Jimin gave him.

I grab Jimin's hand and drag him over to where the other guys are standing together. "Here he is." I tell them with a playful smile, and then I turn to him, "I'm going to be watching you for mistakes."

"Oh, I'm so scared." He rolls his eyes and shakes his hands out by his face. I shove his shoulder with a laugh.

"Then you better do well." I stick out my tongue at him before sitting down against the mirror.

Crossing my legs in front of me, I watch their rehearsals with most of my attention on them. The rest of my attention feels for any notification on my phone that my hands grip tightly.

I normally would enjoy BTS's rehearsals but today, I'm just too nervous and anxious to thoroughly enjoy it. Just as my team and I were finishing our day, Ashton decided to shout across the whole floor and berate us. Specifically our chances that our proposal would be chosen. He shouted that we had just wasted countless hours, created garbage, and that we should be embarrassed that we submitted the proposal to the board.

The whole thing just put me in a constant nervous state. My body feels like a electricity current is running through my whole body, buzzing like I just finished an hour long ride on one of those old metal scooters over bumpy black tar.

After twenty minutes of watching the boys dance, pause, talk through, learn, and then start dancing again, my phone starts to vibrate with a call and I literally jump to my feet. Seeing my manager's name on my screen, I quickly catch Jimin's gaze and motion that I'm going into the hallway. Not waiting for his response, I open the door and shut it before answering the call.

"Hey, Lisa." I breathe out, my heart pounding in my head as I walk down the hall, away from the practice room. "What's up?" I ask, leaning back against the wall.

"Hey, (y/n)." Lisa says with a heavy sigh and my heart drops below the basement floors of the building. "The meeting just ending and they made a decision." She says.

"Not good?" I ask trying to lessen the blow.

"I'm sorry." She sighs again, "The CEO overruled all the board members and chose Ashton's proposal."

My eyes close in disappointment and my shoulders sag under the weight of Lisa's words.

"But you should know that all the board members voted for your proposal over Ashton's." Lisa continues talking when I don't say a word, "You and your team did such good work and you should be proud of that."

"Yeah, I, uh, yeah. Thanks for letting me know, Lisa." I tell her, wanting to get off of this phone call as soon as possible.

"An email's being sent out to your team so you won't have to tell them." She informs me, "I'm sorry, (y/n)."

"Thanks, Lisa." I thank her and then hang up.

A cry hiccups through my chest and I bend my knees to sit on my heels with my back still pressed against the wall. I squeeze my eyes tighter and will myself not to cry. Not here. Not now.

I really thought we were going to be chosen. My whole team worked so hard. They're going to be crushed when they read that email.

Groaning, I let my head fall forward and my arms rest on my knees, phone still clutched in my hand. I sigh heavily and a wave of anger for the CEO washes over me.

How could he choose his son over a really good proposal? The entire board voted for ours but he chose his son.

My phone starts to ring with another call. Thinking it's one of my team members, I answer it without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" I answer the call, keeping as much disappointment out of my voice as possible.

"HA!" A male voice shouts on the other end of the line and I recognize the mocking tone immediately: Ashton.

My jaw involuntarily clenches in anger.

"I TOLD YOU I'D WIN OVER YOU." Ashton says with a cocky edge to his voice, "MY PROPOSAL IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOURS. AND I DIDN'T EVEN PUT IN AS MUCH WORK. HA. HA. HA."

Running a hand slowly through my hair, I slowly pull the phone away from my ear as tears line my closed eyes. Even though my phone is away from my ear, I can still hear Ashton's voice.

"I knew you weren't that good at your job." He cackles, "You weren't ever good but this is just proof. And it shows that your ideas are trash. That team of yours can't even tell you how bad your ideas are. You really must be a shitty leader."

The first tear falls and lands on my pant leg, creating a single dark spot.

"Unless, the proposal ideas came from them and you were too dumb to see how awful they were." Ashton continues, "That's gotta be it! You're just dumb!"

Just a sob pushes past my lips, the phone is yanked out of my hand. I look up as Jimin turns the call on speaker and talks back to Ashton. I can feel the anger rolling off of his shoulders.

"Hi, who is this?" He asks, his voice dangerously low.

"Uh... isn't this (y/n)'s number?" Ashton repeats the question, unsure of himself.

"I don't know a (y/n). But you sound like a shitty person." Jimin lies through gritted teeth. "What kind of self absorbed, sad, 10-year-old man are you? You really think that you're being cool by calling someone dumb? Or their team members? Where the hell is your humility? Where the hell is your humanity?" He scoffs, "Oh, no, I got it, you must not have a brain." He says before quickly ending the call.

A few more tears managed to slip down my cheeks but I'm too stunned at Jimin's outburst to wipe them away. Jimin tucks my phone in his back pocket and turns to face me after exhaling. Noticing my tears, he quickly knees down next to me and wipes them away.

"Hey." He almost whispers with a small comforting smile.

"I can't believe that lame excuse for a man is the CEO's son." He says before wrapping me up in a hug. "Don't listen to him. He speaks lies. You and your team are so smart. You worked so hard on that proposal and you should be nothing but proud about your work."

I sniffle at his words and a few tears fall.

"You will keep your head high and not let that man's words make you doubt yourself." Jimin continues, rubbing a hand on my back. "Every word he said was false. Every single word. Someday karma will come for him. And I hope to god that you're there when it strikes him down."

I pull back with a choked laugh, "I don't think I want to be around for that." I tell him.

His hands rest on my cheeks and his thumbs brush away the fallen tears. "Either way, I still hope that karma takes him down in the cruelest of ways."

Jimin smiles warmly at me, "You did so good. And I'm so proud of you." He says and my heart swells. "So, so proud of you."

I return his smile and take a deep breath. "Thank you." I whisper.

"I'm always proud of you." He states before leaning in to softly kiss my lips.

After resting my forehead against his for a second, I pull back and ask, "How much did you hear?"

"I heard enough." He shrugs but I can hear just how much anger is laced in his voice.

"You heard it all." I correct him and shake my head, looking down to my lap.

"Hey." Jimin says and uses his finger to lift my chin back up, "Head high. You did really good work. Be proud of that."

I nod, determined to make myself see that and believe it. "I did good work. My team did good work."

"Exactly." He encourages me.

I pull him in for a hug and rest my cheek on his shoulder, "Thank you, Jimin."

"No need to thank me, dear." He pats my back, "I will always do what is necessary."

"Even if it means lying about who's phone you're answering?" I ask, releasing him from my embrace.

He chuckles and I love the sound. "I would pretend to be anyone to anyone who is bringing you down."

"Noted." I say with a genuine smile.

"If you're up for it, we're all going out to dinner tonight, if you want to join." Jimin offers and stands up with a hand extended to help me up, "Oh, and Jungkook said he's paying."

I raise an eyebrow at him, "Did he say it or...?"

Jimin sighs, having been caught, "He lost a game so now he's gotta pay up."

"You guys are awful." I shake my head at him.

"But you're going to come, aren't you?" He guess with a knowing look.

I slap my hand into his and smirk, "Hell yeah I'm going."

Jimin pulls me up and wraps an arm around my waist protectively.

"Should we tell the guys so we can go show this Ashton jerk a lesson?" He whispers as we walk back down towards the practice room.

I slap his chest with a laugh, "What happened to waiting for karma?"

"Just offering to speed up the process." He laughs.

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Breakable Heaven (pt. I) - p.l. dubois

As promised, here’s the first part of Breakable Heaven! I’m really excited for this one, there’s so many things I can’t wait for you all to read. This chapter is more setup and background, but I promise it’s all worth it! I’d love it if you reblogged (helps me know people like my work!) or pop into my inbox and let me know what you think! I read all the tags :)

part I part ii part iii part iv

June 4 (thurs)

Laurel clipped her pager back onto her scrubs, leaning over the counter of the nurses’ station. “You ready to go grab lunch?” She had just finished changing the bandages and administering pain medication for a little boy who was recovering from a heart surgery, and was looking forward to getting off her feet for a few minutes. The PICU floor was quiet, only about half of the rooms being filled, and there were no pressing matters that required her attention. If something drastic changed in the next half an hour, she always had her pager. 

Madeline looked up from her chair, where she was finishing up filling in a patient’s chart. “Sounds good,” she said, letting their charge nurse know that they were headed down. Madeline Peltier had been one of the first people to introduce themselves to Laurel when she started; having only been on the unit for two weeks herself, she was still getting a handle on the reins and was more than willing to show Laurel around. 

Madeline was also one of the few on the floor who was just as comfortable in English as she was in French. French had been Laurel’s foreign language through college, but she was made rudely aware upon her move to Montréal that the pronunciation and slang of Canadian French was very different from the Standard French of Madame Anderson’s rural Minnesota classroom. Her grasp of the language was good enough to take the Québec nursing licensure exam — which wasn’t even offered in English — but the spoken dialect was proving much more difficult to pick up. They walked down to the cafeteria, on the second floor, grabbing some sandwiches before swiping their ID badges for the employee discount. 

“I still think they should give us free food,” Madeline said moodily, unscrewing her water bottle and taking a sip. 

Laurel laughed. “When hell freezes over, maybe. Doctor’s lounge usually has some pretty nice stuff set out, or at least that’s what they say. Pity our cards don’t let us in, I’m not above identity theft.” Madeline snorted into her sandwich. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” Madeline asked a few minutes later, starting to peel an orange. 

“Uh, not much?” Laurel said. “Getting my papers together to resign my lease in a few weeks, grocery shopping, but nothing big. It’s been a long few shifts this week and I’m mostly just looking forward to taking it easy. Why?”

“If you’re up to it,” Madeline shrugged, “Patrice and I are going out for dinner Saturday night and we’d love for you to join us.” Patrice was Madeline’s long-time boyfriend, they started dating in university and had been together ever since. 

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Madeline, thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to keep being your third wheel.” 

Madeline let out a conspiratorial grin. Oh no, Laurel thought. This can’t be good. “As it would so happen,” she said, “you wouldn’t be third wheeling. One of Patrice’s friends is back in the city for a few months, and I think you two might hit it off,” she sing-songed. Madeline had been trying to set her up from practically the moment they met; whether it was someone from her gym, one of the critical care fellows, or apparently, her boyfriend’s childhood friend. They were always nice guys, but nothing had ever stuck for more than a date or two. 

---

Twelve hour shifts meant that, at least on work days, there was no way Laurel was going to have the emotional or physical capacity to make herself a real dinner. She’d order in occasionally, but it more common to just pull together something quick like a frozen pizza or grab whatever leftovers she could find in the fridge. Yesterday’s chicken and rice it was, then. Sticking it in the microwave, Laurel opened the door to her balcony, letting Piper out to use the bathroom. Piper was an eight-month-old chocolate lab, the love of her life who she had adopted just after the new year. Laurel had always grown up with dogs; back in Minnesota she had Jackson and Lucy, and she had been missing them more than a little bit since moving to Canada. Piper was incredible. Intelligent, loyal, and so friendly that even her neighbor’s notoriously picky five-year-old son had taken a shine to her. She wolfed down her food, grabbed Piper’s leash and her water bottle, and headed out the door. 

June 5 (fri)

The intricacies of language were hard. And, somehow, learning the intricacies of a language you already knew was even harder. Laurel was trying her damndest to pick up Québecois French as fast as humanly possible, but while she could conjugate l’imparfait in her sleep, the accent and vocabulary were what was really throwing her off. But she intended on making a life in Montréal, and staying as long as she could, so there really wasn’t any option but to hit the books. Immersion worked for some people, and thank God she knew the medical terminology to communicate with her patients and their families, but it wasn’t quite the same when she was struggling through telling the mechanic her car needed an oil change. In a perfect world she’d have someone to help her one-on-one, but she didn’t want to ask Madeline for that big of a favor. And while she made decent money at the hospital — she could afford her own apartment and had a little left over every month to put into savings — it was nowhere near enough to pay for a tutor. So Duolingo, and podcasts, and Youtube lessons it was. 

Letting out a groan, Laurel leaned her head into her hands, shutting her laptop. She wasn’t going to make any progress being this frustrated. She bent down to scratch Piper, whose favorite spot for naps was a blanket right beside Laurel’s desk, between the ears, pulling her leash and collar off of their book by her bedroom door. Piper’s ears perked up, and soon enough she was running around the apartment wagging her tail as fast as it could go, a slightly exasperated but nevertheless laughing Laurel following. She finally managed to clip on her leash; at fifty pounds, Piper still had a little bit of growing left to do, but she had already proven she was more than capable of bending the will of a full-grown and otherwise capable 23-year-old woman. 

She had discovered Parc Saint-François-d’Assise a few weeks after adopting Piper, and had thanked her lucky stars for finding a dog park so close to her apartment. Having a schedule like hers meant that she couldn’t always get her to a weekly training or obedience class — plus, the French that she did know certainly didn’t include ‘heel’ — so the time spent socializing was well-appreciated. It was only a fifteen minute walk, and Piper was good enough on a leash that she only stopped once to bark at a squirrel in one of the many birch trees that lined the street. The park was an acre or two, small enough that she could see all the way across and keep an eye on Piper as she let her off-leash, but big enough that there was more than enough room for all the animals. It wasn’t particularly crowded that Friday; Laurel was confused for a moment before she remembered that most people were busy at 11 AM on a weekday. There were a few families, with kids out for the summer from school, and a man playing in the far corner with his two small dogs, but not much else. 

Laurel leaned down, unclipping the leash from Piper’s collar, and gave the chocolate lab a scratch on the head. “Have fun, girl!” Piper never needed much encouragement, and took off running almost before Laurel had even wrapped up her leash. Rolling her eyes and laughing, she picked up her phone. A text from Allison, one of her only friends in the city aside from Madeline, inviting her out for her birthday next week. Madeline, giving her the address for the restaurant the next night. The Duolingo owl, threatening her with bodily harm if she didn’t log her language progress for the day. She was so engrossed in checking her email that she didn’t hear the shout for her to look out, or the two bulldogs barreling towards her at full speed, until they had knocked her off her feet and she landed straight on her ass. 

“Desolé. Vas-tu bien?” The man asked, holding out a hand and helping her up. Laurel nodded, brushing the dirt off her jeans. 

“Ouais, ouais. Pas de problème, pas de mal. Ils sont chiens, non?” 

He chuckled, patting the smaller of the two bulldogs, which had decided to take a break from accosting passers-by to get petted. “C’est vrai.” They talked for another minute or two before saying goodbye, but she could have sworn it was an hour. 

Walking Piper home half an hour later, Laurel was struck with two realizations. The mystery man — bulldog dad, as she had started calling him in her internal monologue — had very possibly the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen in her life, and she’d be cursing herself for the next week for not getting his number. 

June 6 (sat)

Saturday meant Laurel had a day off, but more importantly, Saturday meant she didn’t have to set her alarm for 5:30 and could actually wake up at a semi-normal hour. Her internal clock didn’t wake her up until half past seven; even then, it was Piper’s soft barks that finally got her up, throwing on a pait of shorts, and leading her out to the courtyard down the hallway to use the bathroom before coming back to her apartment and throwing open the fridge doors. No 7 AM shift meant that she mercifully had enough time to make a proper breakfast. On shift days, there never seemed to be enough time to actually sit down and eat, and Laurel usually ended up just having a quick bowl of cereal or some overnight oats and making a protein shake to drink on the drive over. Eggs, bread, yogurt, a peach she had picked up from the farmer’s market. 

After the bread was done toasting and her tea was finished steeping, she gingerly carried the food out to the balcony, placing it on the table as Piper trotted out behind her. Laurel crunched her toast with one hand as she flipped the pages of a book with the other, a Shirley Chisholm biography that Victoria, her best friend from high school, had recommended her. It was almost an hour later when she finally found a good place to stop. As much as she may have liked to just camp out on her balcony all day and blow through the rest of the book, her pantry was crying out for a grocery run and she was running desperately low on ice cream. 

---

The dinner reservation was at 7, and by 6:30 Laurel was almost ready to leave. Her blue skirt fanned out on the couch as she sat killing time on her phone, tapping the floor nervously with the same pair of block heels that she’d worn to her university graduation. The restaurant wasn’t far from her apartment building, so a few minutes later, she decided to go, leaving Piper with a pat on the head and plenty of food in her bowl. Laurel laughed to herself on the way over, her eyes flickering over the skyline as she walked alongside the St. Lawrence River. 

It’s like what she had told Madeline over and over again, every time she tried to set her up on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She wasn’t actively looking for a relationship but wouldn’t be opposed to it. Whatever happens, happens. Biting her lip, Laurel decided that even if she didn’t hit it off with whatever guy Madeline was trying to set her up, even if things go horribly wrong and he’s the exact opposite of what she’s looking for in a partner, she’ll get a free meal and, hopefully, a new friend.

Laurel hadn’t been told much about her blind date, or anything, really. She didn’t even know his name. From what she had been able to figure out, he was from the area but didn’t work in Canada most of the year — so maybe he was in business? All Madeline told her was that he was tall, attractive, and had a dog. Or was it two? She honestly couldn’t remember. She trusted her and Patrice’s judgement, so if he had gotten their stamp of approval, it was good enough for her. She grabbed her phone out of her bag as she neared the restaurant, letting Madeline know she was almost there and asking where to meet her. She told the hostess she was meeting some friends, and Madeline walked around the corner less than a minute later. “Hi, love!” she said, reaching out and wrapping Laurel in a warm hug. “We’re over this way.” Laurel followed her around the corner and past the bar to a four-seater against the wall. She slid into the seat closest to the wall, leaving a space empty. 

“He should be back in a minute, just ran to the bathroom,” Patrice said, nodding towards the vacant seat and referring to her mystery man. A minute passed, Laurel scanning the wine list, before Madeline threw her hand up in greeting. 

“Salut, PL!” When Laurel looked up, she almost dropped her menu.

 “Oh my God!” The stranger — PL’s — eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the bulldog dad!” 

He chuckled, rounding the table to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. Left, then right. It had taken Laurel a while to get used to; even going to university in Toronto, cheek kissing was practically obsolete, but that changed very quickly upon her move to Montréal. “I am. Pierre-Luc Dubois, good to meet you properly this time.” 

Madeline looked between the two, clearly confused. “You know each other?” 

Laurel shook her head. “Not really, no. His dogs ran into me at the park yesterday when I was there with Piper, we talked for a minute or two.” 

Pierre nodded in affirmation. “So, Piper. The chocolate lab’s yours then?” 

“My pride and joy.” 

June 13 (sun)

 Over the next week and a half, it became more and more common for Laurel to meet up with the group on the weekend, or one of her off days, or really whenever she had spare time. She had learned that Pierre-Luc was a hockey player, Patrice explaining that they had played atom league together growing up and the friendship had somehow stuck. Come to think of it, he had looked a little familiar. The University of Minnesota Duluth was less than an hour drive from her hometown, and besides being the college that the majority of the 50% of college-bound graduates of her high school went to, it also had one of the best hockey programs in the country. So she knew the sport, followed enough to be informed, and had even become a de facto Maple Leafs fan from her time in Toronto. 

Sometimes Madeline and Laurel would bring another friend from the hospital along, sometimes it was just the four of them. Once, a Sunday afternoon coffee meetup turned into just Laurel and Pierre-Luc; Patrice had come down with a bad cold and Madeline was staying behind to look after him. If she was being honest, it was far less awkward than she had anticipated. Pierre had insisted on buying her iced capp, and they had settled in a corner booth, sharing a box of Timbits. 

“Patrice mentioned you’re from the U.S., somewhere in the Midwest?” Pierre asked, sipping his coffee. 

She nodded. “Cloquet, Minnesota,” Laurel sighed, “where there is exactly one hotel, one high school, and life revolves around the mines.” 

Pierre sucked in. “That sounds...interesting,” he said diplomatically. 

Laurel laughed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to mince words. The people are nice, if you think like they do, and the scenery is gorgeous, but…” She gathered her thoughts. “It’s not the place you can really dream big, you know?” He nodded. “Neither of my parents went to college, my mom’s a receptionist at the elementary school and my dad works in the mines. I knew by the time I was in high school that I wanted something more. There was just nothing for me there, and I didn’t ever want to feel as trapped and beaten down as some people I know.” 

Pierre leaned back in his chair. “Do you go back often?” 

“Once a year, maybe twice?” Laurel said, shaking her head. “I’ve only got a few good friends back there, and trust me, they’re much more excited to come to big-city Canada than I would be to go back to a town of 12,000 people.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Conversation between them flowed easily, so easily that before she knew it, two hours had gone by and he had to leave for a skate. As she walked back to the metro, Laurel couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the two hours she had spent with Pierre had felt more like a date than any she’d been on since moving to Montréal a year ago. But it couldn’t have been a date, because it wasn’t supposed to be. Right?

 June 15 (tues)

 It was half past seven on Tuesday, and Laurel was just getting home from work. She loved her job, genuinely, but twelve hour shifts were no joke. Spinning her key ring around her finger, she stopped in the mailroom, unlocking her box and fishing out the stack of envelopes that had accumulated in the two days since she’d last checked. Walking over to the elevators, she held the bundle in one hand as the other punched in her button to the third floor. Laurel flipped through the envelopes as the doors opened. Water bill, bank statement, letter from Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship Canada. Hang on. Laurel stopped at the last envelope, running her finger under the flap as she turned her key in the lock, opening the door with her hip and letting it slam shut behind her. 

She had applied a little over a month ago for her permanent residency card, which she had been assured by everyone she asked would be a relatively easy and painless process. “You’re a nurse, and a good one. I could use ten of you,” her charge nurse had stated. “You went to school here, you have a Canadian degree and a Canadian license. There’s no reason they would cause you any trouble,” Madeline had said. And she had done her due diligence, double-checked every piece of information, checked off every document on the list. Done everything she was supposed to do. So when she unfolded the paper, the words shocked her. 

Denied. Laurel brought her hand shakily up to her mouth as her eyes raced down the letter. No explanation was given, all she was told was that her application had been rejected and she had until September 17, when her work visa expired, to leave the country. The first thing Laurel did was frantically grab her laptop, seeing if there was some way she could apply for a visa extension, but the deadline had passed; she’d have to go back to the consulate in Minneapolis and try to re-apply from there, but her chances weren’t good if she’d already been rejected. The second thing she did was collapse on the floor, Piper nosing herself under her arm, and cry. 

June 16 (wed)

When the group met up for lunch the next day, Madeline noticed something was off about Laurel almost immediately. Normally someone who was hyper-focused on the task at hand, she was stirring her straw around in her glass, nibbling at a piece of bread and answering questions shortly if at all. “What’s up?” she asked carefully, catching Laurel’s eye as she tried to busy herself with straightening her napkin. There wasn’t really a way she could get out of answering that one. 

“I, uh, I got a letter yesterday,” she said. Pierre and Patrice stopped their conversation. All eyes were on her. “From immigration services. They told me,” her eyes pricked with tears, “they told me my PR application was denied, and I only have until the middle of September before I have to leave.” 

“Like, leave the country?” Pierre asked. She nodded. “But can’t you renew your visa or something?” 

“No, I looked into everything.” Laurel said in frustration, shaking her head. “There’s not enough time for it to be processed, I’d have to go back and reapply in the States, and even then the chances aren’t great.” 

Madeline leaned over, wrapping Laurel up in a hug. “Oh, Laur. I’m so sorry,” she said. “You don’t deserve this.” 

“It’s just hard,” Laurel started, “knowing that there’s nothing there for me back home. That’s the whole reason why I came to Canada in the first place, to get away. To get out. I’d have to retake all my licensure exams and find a new job and I don’t want to have to start all over when that’s not at all what I planned for. I thought I’d stay. I thought this was going to be my home” 

“I can call my friend who’s a lawyer, see if he’s got any ideas?” Patrice offered. 

Laurel smiled weakly “Thanks, Patrice, but I really don’t think they’d be able to do much. I was on the website for hours, and there’s like two ways I wouldn’t be kicked out of the country. And I don’t think I’m going to be able to give birth by September 17,” she said, letting out a watery laugh. 

“You’d have to marry someone or something to stay,” Madeline said. 

“Yeah, that’s the only other way it was going to happen,” Laurel agreed. “But seeing as how I’m obscenely single, I don’t see that happening…” She trailed off. 

“I’d marry you,” Pierre said suddenly, shrugging. 

Laurel’s head whipped to her side. “You’d what?” 

“I’d marry you. We’re both single, by all accounts you’re an amazing nurse and deserve to stay. We get married, stay ‘together’ for a few years until you get your citizenship, and then tragically inform the citizenship and immigration people that while we tried, it just didn’t work out, and get a divorce. Easy peasy.” 

Laurel almost burst out laughing, the idea was so ridiculous. She almost couldn’t wrap her head around what he was offering to do. He couldn’t be serious. Right? 

---

Laurel slung her arm over her head, body tangled up in bedsheets. According to her phone, it was well past one. She couldn’t sleep. She had tried rain sounds, counting sheep, drinking a cup of chamomile tea, but nothing was working; she just wasn’t able to still her mind. Honestly, she couldn’t stop thinking about lunch earlier. More specifically, what Pierre had said. 

As much of a bad person as it may have made her sound, the more she thought about Pierre’s offer, the more it made sense. He was incredibly attractive, so it wouldn’t be hard to fake a marriage to him for a few years. She really didn’t keep in contact with anyone from back home in Cloquet aside from her family and a few friends from high school, so it’s not like there would really be anyone to blow her cover. And she really, really wanted to stay in Canada. It wasn’t just the scenery, or the general human decency of everyone, or even the universal healthcare that pushed her to stay. She had fallen in love with the people, the city, and didn’t want to go down without a fight. 

Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from her nightstand, pulling up Pierre’s contact. Hey, she texted. Laurel immediately cursed herself as the three dots popped up on his side. Hey? She was going to ask this man to marry her and the best she could come up with was hey? He wrote back immediately. Hey. You’re up late, what’s up? Laurel took a deep breath. How serious were you about offering to marry me? His second response was even faster than the first. As a heart attack.