#so! i hope this is indeed enjoyable <3 finally got my brain to sit down and write lmao

[thedeafprophet]

On Matters Of Child Minding

for @awordbroken for the @fallenlondonficswap.. hi charm :3c chance saw fit to assign us, so it seemed only par for the course that I write about a shared topic of interest~ I hope you like it <3

Summary: Mr Fires finds itself yet again tasked to watch over Mr Transport on a day is was not scheduled to care for it.

Words: 1.8k

Also on ao3!

Mr Fires burned with a deep, bitter resentment. This whole matter was indignant and insulting, a true sign of its colleagues' lack of aptitude. There would be hell to pay in response for this insult, this calamity, this-

Its raging thoughts were interrupted by the chirping of the delighted child hanging off its arm, seemingly enjoying the motion of Fires pacing around the room. Its ire simmered down to embers as it moved to scratch the child under the chin where it hung. 

Of course, It did not blame Transport for this matter - it bore no responsibility for the failings of its colleagues - but this did not change the fact that it work had been so sorely interrupted. 

It had already done much to accommodate its schedule for when it was its turn to care for the child, and yet, somehow it found itself being tasked with it on a day entirely out of planning. It did not care what ‘emergencies’ came up, it had its own work to do - logic that of course was heeded no mind to. Leave it Fires to be the only one to properly follow schedules around here!

Most irritating of all, was that this was not the first time this matter had occurred. For some reason, its damnable colleagues kept finding a way to pass off the caring duties onto Fires whenever the schedule came up dreadfully lacking, as if its work wasn’t a matter to be considered. It knew very well it was far more equipped and experienced then its colleagues, like with most matters, but that didn’t suddenly mean it had all the free time to spare.

Fires couldn’t help as its mind wanders back to oh so long, of times that had passed before with other, smaller chirping things. It shook its head to clear its thoughts; there was no time for pondering the past, nor for the aching emptiness that threatened to creep up in quiet, inactive moments. 

It had been this matter of its busy schedule that had kept it from child rearing of its own, of course. Far too busy with work, dedicated to its plans for its factories, for London, all the matters dictating why it hadn't dedicated its time to producing any children in quite some time. 

And unlike a certain colleague of its, it would not unfairly pass off its duties onto others. 

With the energy of this particular child, and no playmates to help entertain it, it was a full time task in and of itself. Fires almost wonders if it's a matter of its parentage that leads it to being so particularly rambunctious, or if it had simply been far too long since Fires had been around pups. It knows from experience just how much chaos little ones could cause, of how much focus and dedicated time was required to properly care for. It couldn’t help but ponder slight concern on the matter of its soleness - it would be an unideal matter of socialization, to be raised without a creche of other pups. 

As it was, Fires went on, doing its best to keep the child occupied, begrudging its lack of work hours all the while. Thinking of the reports delayed as it yet again fetched the child's model train to slobber on, keeping its time preoccupied with tiring out the rambunctious little thing. It knew if it did not entertain it, it would find something else to play with, and Fires was not inclined to have any items in its rooms destroyed. 

If perhaps its mood softens at the delighted squeaks and chirps of the child as it played, that was neither here nor there, now was it? 

With all due time, even a child  as energetic and destructive  as Transport was bound to settle down, its new set of teeth proudly shown as it let out a tired yawn. Fires held it gently as it scooped the tired pup up, settling it gently under its arm for the moment, as Transport snuggled its head down finally, finally, nap. 

And then Fires was left to ponder in the silence. 

It would of course do no well to sit around while the child napped, now would it? The most efficient use of its time would be to get a start on the work it was missing while it napped. It's not like the child could go far, or anyone would duly notice if Fires attended to its own office, and Fires knew itself well enough to know it would not be able to sit still and waste the hours. 

It was a simple, logical plan. Mr Fires would simply go to one of its offices, work on the backlog of paperwork that was piling, and make at least some use of time while the child rested.

Yes, it was the simplest course of action. 

Or at least, the concept of it was. 

As it goes with any matter of trying to organize and work, it was only a matter of time before frustration rose. People’s lack of aptitude and capability never ceased to anger it, and time and time again it found its employees falling short. Sorting the ins and outs of its various factories and experiments is one thing, but the job becomes near impossible when people can't even get their work done on time! Sure, it was behind in delivering its own reports, but that was extenuating circumstances. Its factory managers had no excuse in the matter!

It was only when it came across the third missing report that it gave up altogether, huffing a puff of smoke out from its hood as it dropped the papers back on its desk. Fires drummed its claws on the desk as it considered its course of actions; It would have to seek out those reports from the factories itself.

With a quick check to ensure the child was still sleeping, Fires moved out of its office with a quick gesture towards its staff. It would have to be quick in the matter- there was no telling when it's time would run out, and it was playing a risky game it knows - but it was damn well going to get that report even if it had to drag it out of the foreman itself. 

It would need to make the most efficient use of travel time - a matter that would of course involve its dirigible. Sure, all in its city was fair enough to walk between, but why waste time traversing around the scattering ants who would get in its way? 

It boarded its ship with a determined moment, deciding to limit it having any crew when it took more than 3 seconds for its pilot to come aboard, electing to travel itself and the rest of its staff would have to find their own way there. 

Once it was in flight, directions in order, firm in its plans, Fires looked to check on the child again.

It was not there. 

A sharp pang of panic suddenly shot through Mr Fires, of which it quickly worked to rationalize. It shook its own limbs, as if it would suddenly notice the child clinging somewhere else. 

It was not there. 

Oh. This was… most certainly not ideal. If it misplaced the child, it would never hear the end of it, let alone the chaos of what would happen if it ventured outside to the public. It was most certainly not panicking and fearing for the safety of the child. 

It forced itself to think rationally on the situation - it very clearly remembered the child's grasp when it had ventured onto the dirigible, so by all accounts, it could not have gone far. Yes, of course, Fires must have simply gotten distracted during the venture on board and it did not feel the child wander off. 

Thus, a thorough search must be conducted on board, it reasoned, and there was no sense in considering the panicked thoughts of if it had wandered off before then, and if Fires would have to search much, much farther before anyone became aware. 

It was relieved it had chosen to limit the staff on board as Fires searched around the airship in a fit, moving so quickly it was liable to start catching aflame and smoking the ship out. 

It throws open the supply closet door - nothing, not even as it moves around a discarded broom, and lifts up a toppled over bucket.

It checked the side quarters it very, very occasionally rested in - no sign of it there. 

Even the smaller backroom of which its employees were to wait in was astoundingly empty.

It was about to truly fall into a panic, rushing back into the control room, when it finally took a moment to glance down at the control panel.

Of course, there Transport was, happily gnawing away at one of the panel’s levers, seemingly overjoyed at its new found ‘toy’, none the wiser of its caretaker’s fearful fretting.

The anxious fury cooled down to embers as a wave of fond amusement passed through Fires at the sight. Had it been here this whole time? Why had Fires not thought to look in the very place it started to panic. 

“Ah, I should have known. Fond of the dirigible, are we? Industry is a particularly ideal specimen.” Transport looks up at Fires with its big, bright eyes as it speaks. “Bigger than your little toys, I'm sure. I imagine you and I are going to have quite the manner of arguments when you’re grown, hm? I won’t be separated from my ships without a fight.” 

Transport, of course, paid no mind to its comments, continuing to happily gnaw away on a lever. 

The child came with only a little manner of tugging its mouth away from the lever as Fires scoops it up, Transport moving to hang happily off its arms as Fires walks closer towards the airships panels. It delights in telling the pup all about the inner workings of the machine, as it watches aptly with bright eyes. Fires wasn’t sure if it was quite at the capability to understand what it was saying yet, but proper education starts young, after all. As it was, its ears peaked up and swiveled around with Fires’ voice as it paid apt attention - at least as much as an energetic pup could. 

The matter of the factory reports was all but forgotten as Fires continued to delight in showing off its airship to the little one, moving from the controls, to the panels, to the view out the window as it speaks of its great affection for all it transpires. It doesn’t even mind that the child moves to bite on its sleeve as it talks. 

Perhaps it was not so grand an insult to have been left to watch the child unplanned for. 

Spices would still be getting through earful later, though. Insults, even minor ones, must still be accounted for. 

[bluelolblue]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @tobytheeggo

I wish you all the best for your birthday! I really enjoy talking to you and being silly with you :3. I'm sooo glad I got to meet another Santino (and Riccardo) enjoyer, like that's really rare, and you're just so silly and fun and amazing! We're far away from each other, but it's like we share the same brain cells most of the time HEHEHE! I hope all your wishes and dreams will come true and continue being amazing and slaying every day! 💙🩵💙🩵

I appreciate you a lot and I made this fic for you as my little gift for you! :3

It's Santino x Chidi because YES! I hope you'll like it <3 🩵💙

Early Mornings

Everything seemed so peaceful and warm, not a sound other than soft breathing. And it seemed too good to be truth. Living life in constant rush and danger of getting killed is exhausting. A good sleep feels almost unreal.

Until... waking up to a high pitch beeping noise.

Santino groaned in frustration, burying his face into the pillow and pulling the heavy silk sheets over his head, waiting for the sound to be shut off.

Chidi reached for his phone to turn off the alarm. It was 5 am. Just like every morning. Being a bodyguard means getting up at 5 am every morning because that's your job. Protect rich, powerful people. Although, in this situation, Chidi is not Santino's bodyguard. He is Vincent's bodyguard. Santino's ex.

"What time is it?" Santino muttered tiredly, now lying on his stomach as he hugged the pillow, still not opening his eyes.

"5 am." Chidi replied, his voice a bit husky in the morning. Santino sighed into the pillow, finding all this too difficult to handle at 5 fucking am.

"Are you insane?" Santino asked, finally opening his eyes enough to glare at Chidi, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back facing him.

Ah. His back. It almost looked like the red scratch marks were painted, but they were indeed real and were left by this moody Italian. "Maybe I am. Not as insane as you, though." Chidi said, looking over at his shoulder with a small smirk.

Santino made another annoyed noise and turned over, pulling the sheets with him. "You know, my back still kinda burns." Chidi complained jokingly. Well, half jokingly. The scratches still burned a little. "You deserved it." Santino muttered.

"Did I?" Chidi asked, leaning over the bed to press a kiss on his lover's neck.

"Either go to the bathroom or stay here..." Santino said tiredly, but he let Chidi kiss his neck. "Oh, so you want me to stay after all, huh?" Chidi teased, admiring a love bite he had left on the Camorra prince. "You're just good in bed." Santino said, switching with some effort onto his back to cup Chidi's face and to press a lazy kiss on his lips.

He's still so tired. And sore from their night together.

"You were loud." Chidi said after the kiss, looking into Santino's beautiful, tired green eyes. He looked even more handsome like this, with messy hair, sleepy eyes and still exhausted. Santino hummed and smiled halfway, one hand tracing down the scratch mark. "And you were so stubborn." Santino said, slightly digging his nails into the marks to tease him.

"You liked it. Loved it even." Chidi pulled back with a soft chuckle. He was not gonna let Santino have his way now. At least not at 5 am. Santino hummed again and turned into a small groan as he tried to stretch. He's gonna feel this for a week, if not longer. Week if he's lucky.

"I won't be able to walk." Santino breathed out, sagging on the bed, looking up at the ceiling as Chidi made his way to Santino's luxurious bathroom. "You wanted it that way. Begged me for it as far as I can remember." Chidi smirked at him, leaning against the door.

"Shut up." Santino murmured and rubbed his face with his both hands.

Santino hates that he got woken up at 5 am, and he wanted to take a nap while he waited for Chidi, but now he couldn't.

In the bathroom, Chidi took a nice warm shower that helped him feel relaxed and relieved. And it felt so good on his scratch marks on his back. Santino can really get wild when he wants to. Or when someone drives him insane to that point.

The room was still somewhat dark which just made him sleepy again but just as he closed his eyes again to nap, Chidi returned.

"I have to go now before it gets too suspicious." Chidi said as he put on his shirt. "Not gonna stay just a little longer?" Santino teased, now lying on his side with a smirk and watching Chidi. "You know I can't do that." Chidi told him, knowing what Santino wanted.

"Mm... fine. It's too early for anything. You're just crazy like your fucking boss." Santino couldn't hold himself when he mentioned his boss. Vincent.

"Bodyguard's life, what can I say." Chidi was just doing his job really. Although, his job wasn't Santino last night but he's gonna keep that a secret. Because it is a secret.

How to make life more difficult for your toxic ex?

Sleep with his bodyguard.

Santino watched as Chidi put on his clothes, his tie, how he looked more serious again. Fuck. He looked so hot in that suit. Good thing Santino didn't tore it off him yesterday.

Just as Chidi got fully dressed and was ready to leave, Santino got up and tugged on his tie, face to face with the assassin. "Tell your boss to keep his distance... otherwise, I'll have to steal you again." Santino's voice made Chidi almost shiver. This soft, gentle, and attractive voice he used was enough to make him kiss him again.

Humming in agreement while kissing the Crime lord, his soft lips felt better than anything right now. "I will." Chidi said after the kiss, admiring him in this position.

No one really gets to see Santino this way. Relaxed, calm, submissive but still having control. It's rare but beautiful sight.

"Now go back to him like a loyal dog you are." Santino patted his shoulder, turning away with a smirk and getting into his bed. "It's almost 6 am, I want to sleep while I can." Ah, of course, Santino has to be a bit bitter in the morning.

"I'll see you again soon. Mr. D'Antonio." Chidi gave him a smile and nod before opening the door to leave.

Santino felt like he won. Sleeping with a bodyguard of his ex to spite Vincent. But still, Chidi is hot and so fucking good in bed. He barely stood up to hold his tie and kiss him, his legs and hips hurt. He's going to feel this for a long time.

Santino D'Antonio gets what he wants no matter what. Even things like this.

[blownbybakugou]

1K Special | The Chick From Chicken Hut|

Thank you all so much for getting me to 1K! Here is a gift from me to you!

Pairing: Hawks x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2k

The gentle breeze of the night lightly ruffled his feathers as Keigo shuffled quickly to his favorite fast food place; Chicken Hut. The chicken was the best in town, and despite it being mildly unhealthy, Hawks was obsessed with the chicken they had there. So much, that at 3am, if he had cravings for it, he’d go and get it. Much like now. Keigo strutted through the entrance of the meat scented shop and leaned against the front counter, not bothering to look at the cashier. “I’ll have my regular.” He claims cheekily, batting his eyelashes under his yellow face covering. “And that is?” A voice asks, tapping their fingers against the tabletop. Keigo flips around quickly, expecting the guy that usually knew his order. But instead, he saw you. The glowing, beautiful, alluring woman before him. “Sorry, I’m new. I’m guessing you come here often?” You ask softly, giving a small smile. Dumbfounded, Hawks just stares at your glossy lips, almost in a trance at how welcoming they looked to him.

“Uh, hello? Do you want me to call an ambulance?” You ask, waving a hand in front of his dazed orbs. “No, no! I’m fine. Can I have 2 large buckets of chicken legs, with a small side of mashed potatoes?” He chuckles, rubbing the back of neck that was hot from embarrassment. “Okay! That will be ¥2186” You exclaim, sending the order to the back. In a flash, around ¥10,500 was slammed down onto the counter. “Keep the change.” He states, a grin forming onto his lips. “Um, a-are you sure? This is 100 US dollars, sir. I can give you change-”

“No, you can keep it. I have money to spare.” He boasts, his big, scarlet wings twitching behind him. “Yeah, okay.” You grunt, putting the money away and going to the back to see if his food was ready. You honestly just didn’t want to have to make conversation with the cocky bastard, and you knew if you stood there with him, you’d obviously have to. He did oddly look somewhat familiar to you, like you had seen him before. You try not to let the thought cloud your mind for long, as the food was ready. Since it was 3am, the order was out relatively fast, and you were quick to hand the abnormally large bag of meat to the bird-like man. 

“Thanks for coming to Chicken Hut, come again” You say, waving him off as he checked the contents of the bag. He gave you a quick wink when he walked out of the store, and it was just then when you realized why he looked so familiar. That was the pro hero, Hawks.

.

.

.

The next day, Keigo came back, this time bearing flowers. ust to make sure you would be there, he made sure to arrive at the same time he had beforehand, even though this time his craving for chicken wasn’t as heavy as before. “Hello, beautiful lady.” He chirps, sticking the flowers out for you. “O-Oh. Well, it’s not everyday that I get flowers from a pro hero. Thank you, Hawks.” You smile. You were still a bit irked at how much money he flaunted at you yesterday, but this action nearly made you forget about it completely. “Ah, so you do know who I am.” Hawks laughed, eyes crinkled from enjoyment. “I didn’t realize until you walked out yesterday. Guess I was a bit tired from all the late nights.” You claim, brushing back some out of place hairs. “Well, I’ll have-” “2 large buckets of chicken legs and a small side of mashed potatoes. Already put the order in.” You giggle, leaning your chest into the edge of the counter.

“So, I brought you these because I wanted to take you out for a cup of coffee. Get to know each other and stuff. Are you interested?” He asks, removing the yellow tinted goggles from his head. You felt heat rise to your cheeks and neck at the confession, but you covered it up swiftly by looking down at your fingers. “Yeah sure. I guess it has been awhile since I’ve gone out.” You mumble, finally looking up at the blonde hero. “Glad to hear, little bird. Is tomorrow at 3 good with you?” He grins. Your heart skips a bat at the nickname, but you do your best to cover it up with a snide comment. “Is it 3pm or am this time? Because I don’t know if I can keep up with your hectic sleep schedules.” You laugh, and watch as Keigo rolls his eyes. “I’m not the one who works at 3am.” He scoffs, then joins in on your laughter. “Okay, you win. Tomorrow at 3pm.” You emphasize the pm, giggling at the end to make him smile again. Because you were beginning to think his smile was addictive.

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.

.

You were taking your sweet time getting ready, knowing that you didn’t have to meet up with Takami for another 30 minutes yet, and you also needed to make sure you looked perfect. You had given Hawks your number to tell you where you would be meeting up, and no more than 5 minutes after he had left with your digits, you got a message. 

.

You entered the café, looking over the scenery and people, before spotting Hawks’ crimson wings near the window booth. “Hey, you made it.” Keigo smirks and gestures to the seat across from him. You gingerly sit down, and return the smile he gave you. "Yeah, well how could someone skip out on a date with the pro hero Hawks?” You respond. "A date?” Kei chirps up. You giggle, nodding while maintaining an evident blush across your cheeks. “You really know how to make a man bend to his will, ya know?” you brush off his comment with your own. “I work at Chicken Hut, the only way could make a man-bend to my will is by holding his order hostage” You roll your eyes. “I don't know, you caught my attention with one look.”

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The date went on for hours, long after the café closed, until it was time for your night shift once again. “C’mon, not even a discount?” “Nope, sorry. You got to pay for your food like everybody else.” The pout on Keigo’s lips made you weak to your knees, and mindlessly, you walked to the back to retrieve his chicken. 

“Here, take it.” You huff, your cheeks glowing a red that could make Hawks’ scarlet wings jealous. “Looks like my little songbird has a little crush on me” Takami hums, wearing a flashy grin that made your face burn a little hotter. “The fact that you’re referring to me as your songbird means that you feel the same way, idiot.” You backfire, jumping over the counter to face him. “What’re you gonna do about it, little chick?” He says smugly, looking into your eyes to take his dominance. “This.” You catch his lips, moving them rhythmically with him and drape your arms over his shoulders. The kiss was only a few seconds long, but you knew that you weren’t the only one who felt the flying sparks between you two. And that fact made your nerves calm down slightly, the nerves that were making your confidence shred to bits, and making the tips of your ears a bright shade of red.  

“Aw, is my little chick embarrassed?” You turn away, only for him to grab your jaw, and pull you back towards him. His wings wrapped around the both of you, caging you in his arms. “Have you ever had a dream, little chick?” Keigo asks, his voice making you shiver. “Of course I have!” You mock. “What is it then, Ms. Confidence?” He shot back, chuckling. “I wanted to be a chef, or at least be the apprentice of one. But sadly, that kind o stuff requires real money. Money that I don’t have.” You mumble to him. The food prep team were all in the back, and you could nearly feel their gazes burning holes into your head, which was barely sticking out of the top of Keigo’s wings. “Looks like my little bird has an audience.” He purrs, stroking your hair with his calloused hand. “I think they’re looking at you, bird brain.” You roll your eyes, all while wondering how long you could keep up this faux act of assertiveness. Hawks clicks his tongue, tapping your bottom lips with his pointer finger. “Such mean words, songbird” He whines, releasing you from his wing-trap. “Anyway, I’ll be off now. Thanks for the free food babe” He winks, speed-walking out of the place, into the breezy night. But you were happy knowing that he would come back the very next early morning.

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Oh how wrong you were. You may have gotten a little hopeful of your 3am fling, and that’s what drug you down when you saw that the blonde hero didn’t come in the next day. You had been so excited, that you had even prepared his food before he came in, and made sure to keep it warm in the back. You thought you were being smart, prepping it early so he wouldn’t have to wait long, but when he didn’t show, your efforts were wasted. One man and woman clad in tuxes entered the place, making your hopes completely drown. “Hello, what would you like?” You say, your voice dull and emotionless. “2 large buckets of chicken legs and a small side of potatoes” The female responded. Your eyes widened, but then the second one spoke up. “And we would also like permission to escort you to your new workplace.” He deadpans. “New workplace?” You ask. The agent look-a-likes don’t respond, only gesture to the door. Removing your uniform apron, you grab your coat and purse and follow them out. 

.

.

.

You were intimidated by the large building they had brought you to, but you knew this building all too well. It was Harumi Kurihara’s chef’s school, the one you had been saving up to get in, for years now. “Ma’am, would you like us to walk you in? Or you would go in by yourself and meet up with Mr. Takami.” Your eyes practically bulged out of their sockets when you heard that name. “Hawks?” You chocked, watching as the female went to your side of the car and opened the door for you. “Indeed. We should go, he is waiting” You shuffled out of the car, and into the exquisite structure. “Hey, Bird-Brain!” You call out, treading towards him. “Mean-Lady, what do you think?” You lad into his arms, pressing your lips against him expertly. “Fuck you. I don’t like you because of your money, so don’t spend this much on me.” You grumble. “That was an awfully weird ‘fuck you’, songbird.” Keigo smirks. “And also, I didn’t spend money on you. Harumi and I are close friends.” You scoff, and give him yet another kiss, thanking him properly. “Thanks. But don’t do this again. I’m not the fondest when you flaunt your connections and money.” You deadpan, pecking his lips once more. 

“I got other things I can flaunt, don’t worry.” His hands slithered to your rear to hold you up, and then he squeezes your ass suggestively. You suddenly hear the pattering of heels against the white marble tiles, and look over to see Harumi Kurihara herself. You shake, your nerves overtaking you.

“Don’t worry baby. You’ll always be the chick from Chicken Hut I love.”

[anemonenemerosa]

Oops sorry!! I just assumed with oknutzy! Maybe 17 for Wolfstar 🥰

No worries, anon! Since your request was already written by @mooncat457writing (read it, it’s sooo good) and no other prompt of the list was simliar, I thought of a new one and wrote something for you. I hope you ike it!

"The door fell shut behind me while getting the mail. Now I'm stuck outside on a windy October day"

The bright side of locking yourself out 

It was 1 pm when the insistent ringing of the doorbell jerked Sirius out of his dreams. He grumbled for a few moments before his brain caught up and reminded him that he'd ordered a replacement for the broken gear-belt of his motorcycle. And Sirius really needed to get the bike repaired 'cause taking the tube to and from work was just the worst. So, he jumped out of bed and raced to the door of the building – there's no way he's missing the mailperson! Tough luck, Sirius was just in time to see the backlights of the delivery-truck disappear behind a corner.

"God, damnit!" He cursed loudly, mentally just warming up for a full-on rant when a particularly forceful wind-gust shoved half a ton of leaves in Sirius' face and caused an unfortunate bang behind his back.

No. Please no. Slowly, as if keeping off looking might undo what the dreadful noise promised, Sirius turned around, finally staring at the firmly closed door. It is just now that he realised that he's not only stuck outside on a rather unpleasant mid-October day, no, he's stuck outside barefoot, only wearing his pyjama bottoms and a worn shirt. No phone, no keys. It began to rain, no umbrella. What. A. Day.

Just two months ago, Sirius still lived with James and that wouldn't have been much of a problem. Back in the day, James was still writing his final assignment for his degree and stayed at home all the time.But since he graduated, found himself a paying job and moved in with Lily, Sirius lives alone for the very first time in his 25 years on this planet. And while he loved Lily dearly, Sirius couldn't always stop himself from feeling a bit abandoned and lonely, which was ridiculous, of course. Since they got together, James and Lily never let any doubt creep in that Sirius was anything but loved and treasured by both of them.

But the sentiment was of no use just then. In that moment, he needed to find a pragmatic solution. What does one do, trapped outside with no phone, no keys and no shoes? Sirius sighed in resignation. One does walk to the next cafe, beg them to use their phone without coming off as a complete nutter and call James to rescue him.

About five steps from the door, Sirius stopped dead in his tracks, quest forgotten. Walking right up to him was his neighbour from upstairs, the most intriguing person Sirius has ever met, or almost met, seen that they had never talked before.

The guy seemed very unassuming the few times he saw him in the stairway with his knit sweaters and washed out jeans. He was very quiet in the mornings as if he unknowingly considered that Sirius, as a bartender, worked during the nights and really needed his mornings to sleep. During the afternoon however, enjoyable music wafted down through Sirius' open windows together with the delicious smell of freshly cooked food.

The neighbour -Lupin, it said on the mailbox- stared at Sirius with wide eyes for a moment before he stepped closer, holding his umbrella over both of them.

"Erm." The other man said instead of greeting him.

"Please don't ask." Sirius implored him, completely done with this day already. But then again, Lupin had a nice voice.

"Right", Lupin laughed, "You live in the basement, right? Black? I'm going to ask anyway... aren't you cold?"

Not what Sirius expected to be asked. Naturally, his response was eloquent, he was absolutely not caught off guard, "Uhh -yeah, I live here. And- and I'm cold... but I thought you were-"

"-going to ask why you are out here?" Lupin laughed again, a really nice sound, "You clearly locked yourself out. No one goes around in the rain in October like this. Want to come in to mine? Dry off and call someone?"

With that he looked pointedly at Sirius, who took the glance as a clue to have a look at himself. So, summed up, he was drenched, with dirty feet and unkempt hair. Not the first impression he wanted to make on his neighbour. He's a proper adult now. Anyhow, this was by far his best option "That would actually safe my day."

Without another word, Sirius was led upstairs, offered a warm shower and some soft clothes, which were a bit too big for him (Lupin was at least half a head taller than himself). Clean and dry, Sirius sits in Lupin's little kitchen for his next task: calling James, who couldn't leave work for another three hours, meant that Sirius either waited for another four hours or paid 600 pounds for key-service to open his door, which he found out in the next call. He got a string of curses off his chest and was met with an astounded look of Lupin, who had poked his head though the door. Today, Sirius was impressively good at presenting himself at his worst.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, not looking at his generous neighbour.

"Nah it's fine." Said one just shrugged, "What did your friend say?"

"Another four hours or 600 pounds." Sirius supplied, feeling a little miserable.

"Oh, unfortunate. Do you want to wait here? I have some work to do but you can hang out if you want."

"No, thank you. That would be too much" It really would.

"No. Really, it's no bother. I wouldn't offer if it wasn't alright." Lupin waved him off, "I'm Remus, by the way. And before you ask: Yes, Remus like in the Roman mythology"

"Nice to officially meet you, Remus, like in the Roman mythology." Sirius bowed mockingly, "I'm Sirius, and before you ask, yes, like the star and yes, I've probably heard all of the serious-jokes in existence by now."

With introductions out of the way, Sirius was sat on the big and comfortable couch in the living room with a nice cup of milky tea. He had no idea what to do now and felt a bit awkward, but his neighbour seemed unbothered by his surprise-guest.

"Sorry to be such a bad host but I have a bit work to do, I didn't get to do last night. If you like, feel free to take whatever book sparks your interest from the shelves." Remus apologised and put on some quiet music over his phone while settling in a cosy armchair across the couch with a stack of papers on his lap. It was only then, that Sirius realised how good-looking Remus was. His hair, light brown, wavy and a bit shaggy was falling slightly into his bright hazel eyes, focused on the papers in front of him. Suddenly, Remus huffed, scrunched up his slightly crooked nose (dusted with freckles that spread over his cheekbones) and lifted his left hand to his thin-lipped mouth to gnaw at his thumbnail.

"Displeasing literature?" Sirius heard himself asking before he could check the question in his mind for stupidity.

"You have no idea." the other man grumbled, "That one actually wrote that the inhabitants of Egypt are the mummies!"

Sirius couldn't help but bark a laugh at the affronted tone of Remus' voice,

"So, you're teaching history?"

"Yeah." Remus sighed and plucked a red pen from the little table beside him and began vigorously scribbling onto the paper.

The conversation felt to be over for now as Sirius' host seemed, indeed, quite busy. So, Sirius took up the offer to have a look at the bookshelves lining three walls of the room. The carped felt warm and soft under his bare feet while he strolled along the shelves. Quickly he recognised several of his favourites among the countless books and when his eye caught on The Little Prince, he couldn't resist to take it with him back to the couch.

When he was settled again, Remus looked up to see what Sirius had picked and smiled around a soft hum "I've read so many books and this is still one of my favourites."

Sirius couldn't help but smile back. "Mine, too."

From then on, they sat in a far more comfortable silence than before, both engulfed in their literature. Now and then, Remus huffed or snorted and shared some of the more entertaining mishaps of his students. It felt like they've been spending their afternoons together like this for years. Sirius was simultaneously at peace and properly creeped out.

After a while. Remus got up and returned with a fresh cup of tea for both of them. Steeped for exactly long enough, with the perfect amount of milk in it.

"It's wild that I've been living here for a little over two months and we barely even saw each other, isn't it?" Sirius commented, cradling his new cup in his hands while Remus got once again comfortable in his armchair.

"No, not really." The other man supplied with a slightly sad smile, "See, I teach evening classes from around 7 pm to midnight, get home around 1 am and because I'm an absolute night owl, I usually do my grading and preparations right after until 4 or 5 and then sleep 'till noon. And while I thrive in my rhythm, it's a bit hard to meet, or just come across, people... or get to go out for breakfast. It's silly but I love breakfast and until I get up, most places have switched to the lunch-menu already."

What are the chances. "And here I thought that you were so quiet in the mornings because you are psychic and just know that I sleep during that time." Sirius couldn't help the chuckle bubbling up his throat at the puzzled expression of the man across him. "I'm a bartender and work from 8 to 3 in the morning during the week and until 5 on Fridays and Saturdays." He elaborated, "after that I'm often too riled up to go directly to sleep, so I often go to bed around 6 and sleep until 1."

Remus just stared at him. "Our schedules are nearly identical."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply when the sound of the doorbell interrupted them. Remus got up to open the door to a hurried James, who handed Sirius the spare-keys, kissed his cheek and stormed off again.

"So, this was James. Is he your boyfriend, then?" The cosy atmosphere dissolved with the appearance of a wary look on Remus' face.

"Nah. He is my best friend, practically brother. I know, kissing is rather uncommon between two male friends, but we've been doing that since we met fourteen years ago, and I don't give a shit about convention." Sirius explained with a fond smile on his face.

After that, they parted rather quickly as both men needed to get ready for work, but a lot still lingered in the air, unsaid. His shift went over much too slow for Sirius while he brooded over the change in the atmosphere at the end of his stay with his neighbour.

The next day, Sirius woke up with a plan. A potentially humiliating plan, but worth the risk. He got up much quicker than usual, fired up the oven and began preparing. Around 12:30 Sirius knocked at his neighbour's door and was met with a sleepy Remus in pyjamas.

"Hey- erm... good morning! Here are your clothes!" Sirius began far too loud. All he achieved was a furrowed brow on the other man's face.

Get a grip, Black! "Uhh...OK. Listen, I really like you. Would you like to have a breakfast-date with me?" He tried to put on a winning smile while lifting the tray in his hands a bit.

Remus, who had blushed furiously during Sirius' rambling, blinked at him once before a wide grin spread on his face and he stepped aside to let Sirius and the warm croissants in.

[louiserandom]

Choose Your Own Adventure - MadaTobi Soulmate AU Arc II

Heart’s Desire (Ice and Fire)

Rated: E

Summary: A touch is all it takes, to find one’s soulmate, to initiate an exchange of chakra natures and powers that would later intermingle and make both of them stronger. Madara craves this—or at least thinks he does, until he awakens one morning sans Sharingan, his chakra alien and freezing, and watches an angry Senju Tobirama crash into his room, glaring murder at Madara with what used to be his exclusive Mangekyō pattern.

Or, Soulmate Idiots in Love and you get to choose how these fools get to the love part

A/N: Finally got to the second arc :3 Arc I updated over here. Read the whole story on AO3 or Arc II under the cut :3 (and just in case, all the survey comment replies will be on AO3)

Chapter 6

Madara awakens feeling refreshed and oddly comfortable, with vague memories of surprisingly enjoyable dreams. A pleasantly warm weight rests atop him, quiet birdsong echoing from the outside as the sun’s rays caress his eyelids.

The morning seems perfect.

Right up until the second he opens his eyes to see a fluffy mass of white-gray hair right under his nose and his sleep-addled brain informs him that it’s Tobirama Senju using Madara’s chest as a pillow.

Which doesn’t make any fucking sense.

What is he even—oh, right.

Memories of yesterday’s wreck of a conversation rush through his mind and he curses himself, as well as all the gods that thought it’d be a fun idea to bond him to this insolent prick.

(The insolent prick who has his arms slung around Madara like a godsdamned octopus, which really shouldn’t feel as good as it does.)

Deep breaths. No panic. Everything is going to be fine.

All Madara has to do is wake him up and push him off, not necessarily in that order.

It’s then that Tobirama squirms against him in search of a more comfortable position, just so happening to press against Madara’s crotch—and of course, Madara’s cock is half-hard.

Fuck, his thought process stalls.

That’s just his luck. Virtually nonexistent.

He attempts to reposition them to disentangle them at least a little, but that proves difficult with Tobirama’s iron hold. To make matters worse, he clutches at Madara harder after just the first hints of movement.

Fuck.

“Senju?” Madara tries, a bit panicked as he tries and fails to ignore the tingling arousal building in the base of his stomach, spurred on by the mesh of their chakras sending wave after wave of soft, thrumming pleasure through his limbs.

Fuck.

On second thought, maybe he shouldn’t wake Tobirama just yet.

“I hate you,” Madara whispers, not quite sure whom he’s talking to—Tobirama, the gods, or himself.

Using more of his strength but still being slow and careful, Madara forcefully flips them over, pins Tobirama’s wrists with his and lifts his hips to avoid… unnecessary friction.

Well. That’s one problem solved.

Despite the scuffle, Tobirama somehow remains asleep, and a slight frown is his only reaction to the movement.

The sight makes Madara pause.

It’s so strange seeing him like this, unbothered by bureaucratic concerns or obsessive research, completely relaxed next to someone who was, not too long ago, an enemy. With long white lashes resting on his cheeks, lips slightly parted and his hair strewn on the pillow, chest rising and falling with soft, even breaths, Tobirama looks… unthreatening. Approachable. Peaceful. It’s mesmerizing in a way that makes Madara lament his lack of Sharingan so he can’t embed this rare occurrence into memory.

The thought seems normal, until it doesn’t, and the panic returns full force.

Fuck.

He scrambles off the bed and, ignoring the pulses of pain returning to gnaw at him and goes to sit at his desk, willing his heartrate to slow down, godsdammit.

It’s just the bond, he thinks, and a mild case of morning wood.

Nothing to panic about, right?

Except there is. There’s still the exhilaration and the sheer bewilderment he feels at the situation fate’s gotten him stuck in. The realization that after a whole life spent searching, yearning for a soulmate he’s finally found his. And that despite the hostility, despite the insults and quips the Senju keeps throwing his way just to be annoying, Madara foolishly, desperately wants. Wants something he can’t have, because Tobirama isn’t nearly as enamored with the idea of a life partner as Madara would expect… anyone to be, really.

But as he often is, Tobirama is an anomaly.

Not in any negative sense, as Madara has come to find out in the year he’s gotten to know him off the battlefield.

(Although he had been guilty of uttering the occasional insult when the peace talks were just starting, and tensions were high. Back then, Tobirama had been known as nothing more than the Senju demon, the Senju freak among his clanmates—for his ruthless reputation and the terrifying, unheard-of jutsu he created.)

It took Izuna working the one project with Tobirama at the start of the village’s construction. Cooperating with the man made him realize that Tobirama was all right, really, which spurned his ensuing rambling about his new “best friend—I can’t believe he’s not my platonic soulmate, nii-san,” and that made it all the more easy for Madara to stop seeing Tobirama as a lingering threat.

He began to see, instead, that Tobirama stood out not with his freakish experiments but his genius, working around jutsu limitations and making scientific breakthroughs like it was nothing. It was jarring, too, that he seemed to take their village even more seriously than Hashirama did, presenting plan after plan for every sphere ranging from infrastructure to electricity to the educational system, all written up during his teen years, way before peace between their clans was a possibility. He performed unthinkable feats with his water jutsu (and Madara hadn’t even suspected that blood manipulation was in the realm of possibility), was proficient in all five elemental releases and easily the best sensor in Fire Country, and yet still managed to make it all look like no big deal.

Like it was a given.

Madara sighs. The man is an intriguing paradox. One that he’ll have fun trying to solve, he thinks.

A glance back at the bed has him shaking with laughter at the sight of Tobirama hugging a pillow, now that Madara is out of his clutches. One thing Madara would never have guessed about the man is how clingy he is in his sleep. And that he is, apparently, by no means a morning person, despite how organized and scarily efficient he is at every hour of the day. Now he’ll have the striking image of Tobirama cuddling a pillow (and possibly drooling all over it) to juxtapose to that.

His soulmate is a ridiculous man, indeed.

Madara diverts his eyes when Tobirama turns again, dragging the edges of his yukata to open up more of his chest—that’s definitely not a distraction he needs right now.

It’s at that moment that he feels a suddenly much sharper jolt of pain that almost makes him cry out if not for his lungs feeling as if they’re on fire.

Madara tries to stand and promptly falls over to his knees, the pain crippling to the point that his vision starts blacking out.

Ah, shit.

Probably someone overpowering a jutsu nearby, or throwing an unnecessary temper tantrum, or something monstrous passing by the village and assaulting his senses—the increasing pain makes it impossible to focus on trying to figure it out, and Madara shuts his eyes in hopes of drowning out the world around him.

Hopefully, it isn’t an attack, because Madara is as good as dead if he’s forced to defend himself.

He calls for Tobirama but isn’t sure whether any sound actually comes out. He manages to keep himself from falling face-first to the floor, but just barely, supporting himself on shaky hands as icepick blades chip away at his strength and consciousness. There’s loud banging echoing from afar, getting nearer and further away intermittently, and suddenly the whole room is pulsating with energy, the wood beneath Madara’s palms starts burning with hostile energy. Madara manages to curb an impending to a muffled grunt and huddles to the nearest corner, overwhelmed and hurting, desperately willing this to stop.

Gods. What a terrible way to die.

Only he doesn’t, and the throbbing agony subsides the instant he feels all-too-familiar hands on his shoulders, a distant but soothing voice saying Madara’s name over and over again.

Tobirama.

His touch is… safe. Easing the pain almost entirely, enough for Madara to reopen his eyes—and promptly close them again just to block out the sight that greets him.

“Ugh. What the fuck are you doing here?”

The one person Madara had spent the whole of yesterday avoiding, whom he wasn’t ready to face, what with the inevitable overemotional reaction and the very predictable questions—Hashirama is there, kneeling next to his brother and staring at Madara with that annoying puppy-eyed look of his.

“Madara, what’s wrong?”

Predictable question number one.

“Are you injured—you look injured—where does it hurt?”

Two.

“And Tobi, why are your eyes bleeding? Why are your eyes the Sharingan? What the hell is going on?”

Three. Four. Five. Ad infinitum.

Madara responds with a glare.

“Can you get him out of here?” he says, tilting his head to Tobirama, who’s running his hands softly along Madara’s back, his arm, through his hair. It would feel heavenly if not for the eyesore that is Hashirama’s concerned face ruining everything—and his monstrous chakra that still causes him pangs of pain, despite Tobirama’s closeness. “Please?”

“Anija,” Tobirama says, albeit uncertain, “it really isn’t a good time.”

“But Tobi, you’re both wounded!” Hashirama looks torn between moving to heal one or the other, fingers already glowing green. “Madara, where does it hurt? Did you have a fight like I explicitly asked you not to?”

Madara growls, recoiling from the idiot’s hands and banging his head against the wall behind him. It doesn’t even make the migraine worse than it already is.

“Madara isn’t hurt, Anija.” Tobirama reaches to run his hands through Madara’s hair, massaging his scalp softly. Gods, but how quickly that curbs the. Madara isn’t letting Tobirama anywhere out of his hold from now on. “We’re soulmates. We exchanged chakras just yesterday, so we’ll be adapting to the different natures for a while.”

Hashirama gapes.

“Soulmates. You. You two?”

Madara scowls. He himself had much the same reaction but it still irks him to see Hashirama, the ever-sappy fool, as shocked by the news as he was.

“Yes,” Tobirama replies, “Madara seems to be overwhelmed by my sensing range and the unfamiliar chakra is causing him pain. This,” he points to his eyes, tinged red and bleeding around the edges, “is the effect of the Sharingan.”

“Let me.” Hashirama moves to coat Tobirama’s eyes with iryo chakra. “You should have come to me the minute this happened, Tobi. You know the initial side-effects of bonding can be permanent.”

“I’m fine. And this isn’t just the bond’s side-effect,” Tobirama says, pausing for a moment before he goes on, “it’s the Mangekyō, in general. Apparently, it deteriorates eyesight.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Hashirama asks stiffly. “Madara?”

Madara stays silent, ignoring Hashirama’s frown and the way he shoots Madara that look of utter disappointment before returning his focus to the task at hand. He watches Hashirama strain with whatever manipulations he’s attempting, hesitant to admit even to himself the slight hope he feels, that maybe, just maybe, this is the one thing that’s going to work.

Hashirama lowers his hands, a deep frown on his face, as Tobirama clutches at his eyes with a quiet hiss of pain.

“It’s… not working,” Hashirama admits, “I have no idea how but… I-I think I only made it a bit worse, is all.”

“WORSE?” Madara would have hit him, were it not for Tobirama holding him back. “Hashirama, get the fuck out of here before I do something you will regret.”

“I won’t,” Hashirama says, pinning Madara with a glare of his own. “Not until you explain why you didn’t tell me about this before.”

“Because it’s none of your concern,” Madara snaps.

“That’s what you said to me, actually,” Tobirama says, just to be contrary, it seems, “and we’ve talked about that—”

“It’s not the same, Tobirama, and shut up!” Madara shoves him off and away in a fit of foolishness. The pain submerges him once more and he gasps at the force of it—not for long, because Tobirama is back again, arm wrapping around Madara’s shoulders, chakra grounding him, soothing and comforting.

All the things he doesn’t really deserve, does he?

Hashirama looks torn again. Madara takes a deep breath. Hashirama is not to blame for his chakra, and his concern is understandable. There’s no need to be so harsh with him. Madara forces himself to ask nicely.

“We can talk later,” he tells his friend, keeping his voice even, “please. Just not now. Leave and tone down your chakra while you’re at it.”

Hashirama frowns, confused. “But it’s how it always is when I’m not actively using it.”

“He’s right,” Tobirama says, throwing Madara an apologetic look. “It’s all over the place, all the time.”

“Oh, great.”

“That’s not what we’re talking about, though,” Hashirama insists, with all his Senju stubbornness that Madara is really getting tired of as of late. “How long have you known about what the Mangekyō does, Madara?”

“Since I was born,” Madara says, “I’m not the only one with it, obviously.”

“Then why the hell did you use it so much during the war? You should have told me—”

“You just said, the war, treehead. Our clans were at war. What the fuck was I supposed to do?”

“Not use it? I wouldn’t have gone as hard as I did. You’re my friend, you know that!” Hashirama is, of course, oblivious to the implicit insult in that statement. “Or, I don’t know, you could’ve accepted the peace earlier?”

“Can you forget for one second about your godsdamned peace?” Madara says upon an exasperated sigh. “Just this once?”

“Not really, when an earlier stop to the war could have prevented your eyes getting this bad!” Hashirama waves his hands to the Mangekyō still burning bright behind Tobirama’s half-closed eyelids. The man looks just about ready to strangle them both. “This—this bleeding and the dead and unhealable cells!”

“Senju—" The vase and the glass of water on his desk fracture as Madara senses, viscerally, how the water in the pond outside, in every piece of plant life starts churning in response to his anger.

“Anija, please,” Tobirama implores, placing a hand on Hashirama’s shoulder, “just let this be for now. I’m working—we’re working on a way to fix this.”

“Glad to hear that, Tobi, awesome, amazing,” Hashirama says in a tone that does little to match the words, standing up to pace in front of them, riling up his chakra even more because apparently, he’s an utter idiot. “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have just come to me earlier, Madara, and—oh, I don’t know, prevented the countless deaths in the war? Kept not just yourself, but your clanmates from going blind? Discovered your soulbond sooner, for gods’ sakes?”

For a while, Madara is at a loss of what to say. It’s too familiar an accusation. Such a familiar pain—the reminder that no matter what Madara does, it’s always wrong, or mediocre, or lead to disaster. Somehow, coming from Hashirama this way, it’s so much harsher than when Tobirama blamed him for the same inaction.

Neither brother knows that Madara issued a decree forbidding everyone without an Eternal Mangekyō from using it the second he became Clan Head. That little to nobody listened to him, unwilling to let him bear the brunt of the burden in the war. That he couldn’t even begin to understand where to look for answers to keep his people from being blinded by this curse, the elders too stuck up their ideals to try something that might possibly upset the gods—and too loyal to his father’s ideals to even consider the prospect of peace until the volatile ultimatum Madara had faced them with.

(A failure, so many voices call from his memories, you always will be.)

“There were reasons I couldn’t, dumbass,” Madara says, tone biting, holding back the chakra that yearns to lash out at his friend. “And oh, what a delightful fucking experience. A soulbond so painful it makes want to kill myself.”

It’s an unnecessary, spiteful remark he utters only because he’s peeved that Hashirama, of all people, would know how much a soulbond means to he, knows where to strike the hardest.

Madara feels Tobirama flinch just after he realizes what he’s said.

“Wait—I didn’t…” It’s too late, as always, to hold back his thoughtless, stupid words. Tobirama is still there with him, still holding on to him, albeit with a face that’s back to its neutral, unfeeling expression. “I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t appreciate you upsetting my brother, Madara.”

And now Hashirama is truly angry at him. Even better.

Madara glares at him, facing Hashirama’s dark eyes glowing with a light-green hue, his chakra permeating every piece of wood on the room, clashing against Madara’s senses.

“We’ll talk when you’ve calmed down then,” Hashirama says in what Madara’s dubbed his ‘Hokage voice, “And I expect a more coherent explanation. Tobirama?”

The man in question lifts his head. Madara half-expects Hashirama to bark out a command at him, but the words he utters next are soft, almost hesitant, “Will you come with me?”

Madara turns his head away, feeling his eyes prickle with treacherous, unshed tears. Of course, he’s ruined everything once more. With words said in anger, without thought or reason—something Izuna incessantly warned would get Madara into trouble again and again, but Madara never listens.

And now his soulmate is leaving, the sliver of progress they’ve made towards some kind of relationship squandered by Madara’s stupidity.

Then again, another thing Izuna keeps telling him is to own up to his mistakes. So Madara does, forcing himself to look back at Tobirama, hoping to the gods his expression doesn’t reveal how utterly dejected he feels.

Tobirama contemplates him for a few torturous moments, face impassive, then turns back to face his brother. “I’m sorry, Anija. But I’m going to have to stay.” Its evident, the strain in his voice, the way it pains him to say it, but his chakra feels determined, steadfast, almost protective as it winds further around Madara’s own. “I’ll find you the minute I get to the Tower, I promise.”

Tobirama is looking at the floor, face marred by a frown. “We’ll meet today as we decided. After work. You know the training ground.” He gives Madara’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll try to have that seal ready for you.”

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[letsperaltiago]

We’ll sweep out the ashes in the morning |CHAPTER 1|

Heeeere comes the Peraltiago scandal ! 

This story takes place in an alternative universe, where Amy applied for and got the job as 'data analyst' for for Major Crimes (See episode 1.15: 'Operation Broken Feather' for further reference). This means that Jake and Amy no longer work together and havent for a few years. This also means that I don't know what right and technical job title this new job would get Amy, so I'm just going with/imagining that she was still a detective even after her transfer.

Read it on AO3 or simply enjoy it here! I appreciate comments more than you know <3 

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CHAPTER 1: I didn't mean to start this fire and neither did you

It really had been the best yet also most disastrous kind of accidental occurrence that day. Best back then, when Amy Santiago was promptly striding down the sidewalk on a just as coincidental cold, February morning.

Her head was dipped in a downwards adjustment, simply enough for her to absorb the new information on her phone which had just led her to pick it up from the pocket of her navy blue coat just a few seconds ago. Out of what seemed to be nowhere, it all came to a halt. Maybe more a thud and burst actually, when suddenly her phone flew out of her hand in one direction meanwhile the still warm coffee in her other hand travelled in the opposite direction. It took her a much startled second to realise that herself, her coffee, phone and a stranger suddenly had one thing in common; they were thrown off their respective paths with quite the vivacity. All that her eyes managed to grasp in the few fatal seconds was a black coat covering a masculine figure and chestnut-like hair. The remaining details remained undefined in her state of shock. All she knew was that she’d ignorantly stumbled into someone.

“Oh my goodness, I am so so sorry, sir!” She exclaimed immediately after her brain had put all the facts together and suddenly felt the guilt of being just another typical phone-addict; she used to be so good at limiting the amount of attention she’d give it. “I was reading an email and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” She kneeled to pick up her phone from the icy sidewalk as well as the now empty cup (even an accident like this was no excuse to be a litterbug).

“Wow, Santiago. Who would’ve thought I’d ever experience you on your knees and calling me sir?”

As she was practically on her knees, the figure standing in front and above her allowed himself to speak; right then and there Amy Santiago could’ve sworn that she felt a scrap of familiarity rush through her body’s nervous system. The octave of the voice, deep enough for man’s but not enough to hide the manchild behind; Calling her Santiago? No one else would do that without a preceding ‘Sergeant’; the facility of the fall of the joke? Like it came from a place of practice and habit? It could only be…

“Peralta?” In contrast to how her head had previously been tilted forwards and down, it was now tilted backwards to look up at the half-stranger and take in the indeed chestnut-like hair (still messy and curly), cinnamon eyes and surprisingly unsurprisingly mischievous smile.

“The one and only,” the chuckle was just as familiar as the rest of him. “Here,” he kneeled down to her level and started to pick up things she hadn’t even realised she’d dropped. “Let me help you out.” He started reaching out for her keys and lipstick that’d been resting safely (or so she thought) in her purse.

Meanwhile Amy was still kneeling but with her back now straightened in bewilderment whilst her eyes followed his every movement with the purpose of figuring out if he was actually real. For how long she did this exactly, she doesn’t recall, but next thing she knew he’d followed her example and straightened his back as well. Still on his knees and eyes directed at her whilst holding her stuff in his hands. Rushing people walking by, or rather around, the kneeling couple didn’t seem to give in to their New York-curiousness. It was 8 AM and everyone had places to go. Including Amy herself, she suddenly realised and snapped out of her until now absent state of mind.

“Oh, wow! Uhm- thank you,” she fumbled with her words and hands as she grabbed her things from him before hastily standing back up. Once both back on their feet it hit her that she was being suspiciously far-flung considering the fact that Jake Peralta was no stranger and had been looking at her with nothing but kind and inviting eyes ever since she took a first dive into them approximately 30 seconds ago. Her body’s response to this realisation was a swift shake of the head. “And oh my goodness- hi!” She stuttered overwhelmed and awkwardly (Santiago-stylez) in the act of finally smiling for the first time post collision.

“Hi,” the reply was followed by his figure instantly leaning in to hug her like he’d been holding it back since realising who he’d collided with. Of course she automatically let her arms wrap their way back around his broad shoulders, hating how completely right and practically overwhelmingly good it felt. Almost like something that’d been missing had made its way back home. This was only proved right by the fact that it almost, just almost, made her heart drop when he pulled back.

“How are you doing? It’s been forever!” There was a swift switch in the direction of his gaze upon noticing a few drops of coffee on his coat, provoking him to quickly brush them off before redirecting his attention back to her. She could’ve sworn he’d fumbled just a bit too much in the process. Almost like he’d hoped that she hadn’t noticed him taking his eyes off of her for just a second. Attentive as always, she thought.  

“I’m good! And yeah it has been a while, hasn’t it?..” she couldn’t help but notice that the present dread in her voice was on the edge of obvious. Ever since Amy had gotten the job and transferred to Major Crimes to be a data analysts (with the Vulture), she had barely to never seen Jake since. Sure, they’d texted a bit back and forth, sent the occasional joke or meme, but even this had died out once they’d gotten used to the other’s absence at work and each their new life-partner: Teddy and Sophia.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Jake smiled brightly and Amy could never doubt the fact that he fully meant it. “…And I’m sorry I haven’t texted or called. Life, yanno?” He shot a look down at his carefully shuffling feet.

“Hey,” an impulse within her, like an overwhelming craving, brought her left hand to reach out across the space between them to gently squeeze his arm. “No worries. I’ve also been super busy and haven’t reached out. We’re cool.” To her delight his shoulders dropped in a sign of relaxation, his eyes rose back to hers and everything seemed to be as it should be, when you run into someone you used to know so well and maybe even used to consider your best friend. Pleased with this she allowed her hand to drop from its spot on him.

“No wonder why you’re out here running into people then, Santiago,” they both had to laugh at the comment, relishing in the resurfacing of familiar banter that used to and once again lead Amy to push a lock of her dark, freely hanging hair behind her ear. This triggered a thought that couldn’t help but welcome into his mind: would she still wear her hair up in the famous pony-tail he still remembered? Or was this lose hair her new thing? Her hair was so much longer now. Gosh, he had so many questions.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I got an email from work and had to check it,” she bit her bottom lip nervously, briefly holding up her phone as emphasis of her explanation.

“Always so devoted to duty,” Jake could barely tell if he was smiling again or just hadn’t stopped since he realised who he’d bumped into. “Anyways… I’m sure you have tons of things to catch up on, like emails and whatnot…” They both chuckled nervously, dancing around the fact that they both logically needed to go but seemed to lack the will. “… So I’ll let you get to work, detec-“

“Sergeant, actually,” there was a sense of pride and authority behind her correcting. Both in her voice and eyes. Something Jake couldn’t deny suited her incredibly well.

“Of course,” he picked up his now corrected point with a cheesy smile. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? I always knew you’d outrank me…” Jake couldn’t entirely tell if it was because of the cold or if it was because she was flattered, but her cheeks definitely bloomed with a shade of pink; just a tiny bit and enough for him to notice. “Anyways, I will let you get to work then, Sergeant…” he made sure to emphasise her new title, which to his enjoyment and suddenly lightly racing heart earned him an even wider smile in return. “Bye then.”

“Bye, Jake,” she smiled, before stepping beside him and picking up where her path had been interrupted.

With each clack of her heeled boots, each sound of her walking away and out of his life again, Jake felt his heart race beneath his increasingly clenching chest. Not that this had to mean anything specific, but it definitely brought along the manifestation of curiosity and the feeling of wanting to know more; he wanted to have a real conversation with her; he wanted to sit down and know her again… He felt his body push him to edge of actually asking which was oddly similar to wanting to throw up. There was nothing to lose or dangerous about catching up, right? They weren’t strangers, simply friends who’d drifted a part. Now was not the time to strive away from his otherwise so straightforward personality.

“Hey! Santiago!” He turned around on the spot, calling for her attention before she could get too far away and drown in New York’s sea of oh so important and busy people. Luckily she hadn’t been in a rush to get away from him and was simply a few feet away. “Would you like to catch up over a drink? Or crappy Chinese food?”

Hating how aware of his question he was, he was thrilled to see her smile at his last comment, resulting in the deflating of his question’s denseness.

“That…” She paused for a second, before realising that she was about to overthink it all which would mean giving the situation more meaning than actually needed. They were old colleagues, for Christ’s sake! Catching up was normal. Not weird. Not meaningful. Just… normal. Besides that there was this muted, constant thumping in her chest and gut. Somehow it was telling her that saying no would be betraying herself more than anything or anyone else. He had been her friend before, so it made sense that he hypothetically could become it again. “That would be nice, Peralta. Let’s do that. You still have my number right?”

Almost like he’d been holding his breath in anticipation (which he hadn’t ‘cause this was just Amy; Amy his old partner and friend), Jake breathed out a reply. “Yes! Awesome uh-  I’ll text you!”

Her smile was accompanied by an approving nod, before she turned back away from him to continue her already twice interrupted journey to work. Apparently Amy Santiago still provoked his blabber mouth; two interruptions wouldn’t let her go without a third. “Or I’ll send an email since you’re apparently so absorbed by those these days.” His half-yelled comment fought its way through the noisy crowd and earned him the impeccable sight of Amy Santiago doing a quick 360 mid-stride, only to send him an iconic eye roll and ‘annoyed but it’s funny’-smile. It all happened so fast, yet in slow motion if you’d asked Jake, and before he knew it Amy continued straight ahead like nothing had happened. Jake could’ve almost (just almost!) sworn to God that he’d never seen anything more thrilling and satisfying than those three seconds that it took her to do that.

She hadn’t changed, had she? And neither had they, had they?

[sweethazzababy]

Not So Professional- Chapter 1

Plot: Y/N gets the job as Harry Styles’s personal assistant. Working for him, she deals with the ups and downs of his career ranging from difficult breakups to music celebrations and everything in between. How will her and Harry’s relationship develop?

A/N: Ahh oh my goodness hello my beautiful friends!! it’s been so so long since i updated my writing, and i apologize for that. i just havent had the inspiration to write, but tonight something sparked in me and i am so happy about it. i’ve decided to start a “book” and update with chapters. i actually started this a while ago, but i went back to writing it again and i want to share it with you all. i cant promise that i’ll update regularly but i will try my hardest. i hope you enjoy it!! :)

Chapter 1.

       One. Two. Three. Four. I’m counting my steps in my head as I walk down the busy street, pandemonium disrupting my ears. Peace is nothing but a fantasy in the place I live in. There is never any quiet noise. So many mornings I wake up hopeful to hear some birds chirping, some wind rustling through the delicate leaves of the limited trees we have in this city. But no. It’s always the bothersome noise of multiple taxi horns, or people yelling down streets. My earbuds try their best to block out any sort of something that isn’t music. Tides-Swimming Tapesmy lock screen reads. The beachy guitar riff pleasantly floods my ears as I try my best to imagine the sand and the sea. Ever since moving to the city, the beach is something I long for every day. The fresh salty aroma, the warmth of the sun beating down on bronzed skin and the sand beneath the pads of your feet. The calming and relaxing sound of waves crashing quietly onto shore. The kind of quiet noise I wish I could experience on a day to day basis.

        You must be thinking, why would you move to the city if you hate it so fucking much? Because at my age of 22, money is a little bit more important than happiness. Supporting myself is a lot harder than I ever imagined. When I moved out at 18, I was so eager to finally be on my own, making my own decisions without anyone holding me back from what I wanted in my life. No judgements on the way I chose to live. No doubt, I love being on my own, but money has become a bit of an issue. Here in the Big Apple, good jobs are much more accessible rather than some no-named beach town in New Jersey with a population of a measly 5,000.

       Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three… my brain can’t help but continue to count my steps, a habit I’ve grown to develop. I lift my head to look at the street ahead of me, making sure I don’t walk past my work place. Shuffling around the crowds of people making their way to work as well, I zig zag through seamlessly. Living in New York City is a bit of a learning experience. You learn the detours and shortcuts of walking through Manhattan to get to places, almost like a daily routine of successfully walking through a maze. I always make sure to have my earbuds everywhere I go, to help make the journeys at least a little bit enjoyable. The delightful sound of my playlist can distract me from almost anything around me. Getting lost in music is one of the not so many things I adore.

       Once I get to the building, I tilt my head as far back as I need to in order to see the towering skyscraper before me. The height is so surreal that when I look up to the top from the ground, it almost seems as if it’s falling and tilting in the sky. After all these years, I still can’t help but gaze in wonder at how one can build such a thing. Shaking my head from my pointless thoughts, I sigh in annoyance as I gather my shaky breaths to control them and take my first steps forward to open the big glass door. As usual, I am greeted by Nina as she sits behind the main desk typing away and taking dozens of calls. She lends me a warm smile, her eyes crinkling a bit at the corners. I’ve always liked her, even though sometimes she can be a bit too cheery. No one likes their job that much, especially a desk secretary. I set my eyes on the nearest elevator, seeing it is about to close. My feet start to pick up the pace as I walk faster to catch the elevator before it takes another 10 minutes for it to come back down. With a building that contains 53 floors, you never know how long the elevator will take to come back to ground level. A middle-aged woman sees me making a beeline towards the elevator and stops the doors from closing while kindly giving me a welcoming smile. I nod my head in appreciation as I settle into the back-right corner of the elevator, my usual spot. As the elevator starts to make its way up the building I keep my attention on the numbers as we pass each floor. 53reads on the small screen as the ding signals the door to open. Yes, the top floor. It’s always a pain to work on the top floor, knowing I have to give myself a 5-10-minute window before I actually clock in. My flats make a faint tapping sound as I walk down the marble floor to my boss’ office. I take the stainless-steel handle in my hand and twist to open the door.

       “Good morning Y/N! A beautiful day it is isn’t it?” I look up from the floor for my eyes to meet with an elegant but sophisticated office. The glossy marble floors continue to flood into the room. On top of the floors lies a large black desk with a black swivel chair, big enough for two people to sit comfortably. The desk sits atop a black rug to compliment the marble theme. Behind the desk, my eyes set on the beautifully breathtaking view of the city skyline. Mr. Garrett Rowland. CEO of the Sony Music Headquarters. I give a polite smile as I greet back.

       “Indeed, it is! Happy to feel the warm weather again.” I say with a sigh of relief. The month of April is finally settled in, which makes me a little bit cheerier. The past winter felt like a lifetime with multiple unwanted snow storms. I’ve never been a huge fan of the snow. He gives a nod of agreement towards me and takes a seat in his throne of a chair. His salt and pepper hair is styled nicely, as always. Never have I seen a day where he looked less than perfectly put together. I sit in the chair opposite of him and wait for my duties to be listed today. As his personal assistant, I’ve gotten used to the fact that my job here is to be as helpful as I can no matter the number of tasks he asks of me all at once. I like to keep myself busy which is why I guess this job is suited for me.

      “What can I do for you today Sir?” I question with a smile, portraying eager and slight enthusiasm. I need to at least show I enjoy my job. He folds his fingers together on the desk as he is probably preparing his list of tasks. I tuck a loose strand of blonde hair behind my ear that happened to fall out of my loose, but sophisticated, pony tail. My fingers tug down my pencil skirt a bit as I sit with my legs crossed.

         “Well Ms. Y/L/N, I actually have a bit of news to inform you of.” He says. His face is stern but soft eyes contradict the boss persona he’s trying to front. I raise my eyebrows, eyes widening, not expecting that response opposed to my usual orders. “I got a call from Syco and Columbia Records earlier this morning before you came in.” Confusion sets on my face as my eyebrows furrow, not really sure what they would be calling for, and why it concerns me. Confusion soon turns to curiosity as Garrett continues on.

         “You have quite a reputation as my personal assistant and it seems that one of their recording artists is in need of one. The last one got fired for having an affair. They called asking about you.” He finishes, leaving the floor to me. My jaw drops a bit, not really knowing how to respond. Me? A personal assistant to a famous artist? My mind is racing, occupied with questions and thoughts that I completely forgot I was sitting in front of my boss who is awaiting some sort of answer.

         “Uh…u-um, wow. I, uh, don’t know what to say.” I stumble over my words twiddling my thumbs, unsure of what to do with my hands. I clear my throat as I try to piece together somewhat of a valuable response. “Are you saying I have the choice to take the job?” My eyebrows raise once again, as I try to process this situation.

         “Y/N, you have worked extremely hard to get to the place you are in right now. Over the past 3 and a half years you have been nothing but helpful, and always such a joy to work with. You have earned every raise and promotion you received, and I feel this opportunity is one that won’t come again. Although it will be bittersweet to lose such a valuable employee, and friend, I believe you deserve this job. You will be getting paid twice as much with the bonus of traveling the world. I advise you to take this opportunity.” Garrett finishes with nothing, but complete truth and sincerity shown through his eyes. He gives me a kind smile, the aged wrinkles forming by the corners of his lips. His dark brown eyes are gleaming as he tells me the news. I have developed a bit of a relationship with Garrett, almost like an uncle type of figure. I was so young when I started, I matured and grew up working for him.

          I can’t help but smile myself, the corners of my lips slowly curving up to form a shy grin. My heart pounds inside my chest at the amazing news, something I thought would never happen. Rarely do lucky opportunities come along for me. I may be the CEO’s personal assistant but as he said, I worked hard to get to this position. I know I have to take this job, I mean I really do need the money after all. As I think of a way to respond, I realize I don’t even know who this artist is. What if it’s someone I hate? Like Chris Brown or something? God no I can’t be his assistant

          “Are you sure? It sounds like an amazing opportunity I just don’t really know any details. Who would I be working for?” A tinge of uncertainty is hinted through my tone, not really knowing what to expect. I bite my bottom lip, feeling the blood rush to the surface… another nervous habit. Garrett takes a bit of a deep breath before answering the burning question. He looks down at his hands still clasped together, his thousand-dollar watch shining as the sunlight hits it creating a glimmer.

          “Harry Styles.”

           After hearing the name that slipped from Garrett’s lips, I held my breath for a few seconds. Trying to process the new information, I glance down at my hands. My dainty fingers rubbing the clammy sweat perspiring on my palms off onto my skirt. My manicured nails give my outfit a pop of color, a bright yellow to celebrate the spring time. Harry Styles. The boyband guy? What’s the name of that group…One Direction? I have never really paid much attention to the teen pop culture anymore considering my age now, but I do keep up watching E! News or reading a few magazines. Apparently, this boyband is on hiatus-which sounds to me a lot like a break up. But Harry Styles I do know is seen not only as the front man, but as a huge flirt. A womanizer, if you will.

          “Oh wow…” I trail off, unsure if I should pretend to fangirl or show a little bit of excitement. I bite my bottom lip again, the news sparking my nerves.

          “I have a picture of him, in case you weren’t really sure who he is.” He picks up on my surprised but uncertain tone of voice, and I roll my eyes with a smirk at his comment. I may not be a screaming One Direction fan but of course I know who Harry Styles is. I chuckle to myself at the thought of him thinking I live under a rock. I nod in agreement, taking the picture from his hand.

          The first thing I notice, immediately after receiving the photo, are his emerald green eyes. Those eyes are mesmerizing to look at, as if they are piercing right through me. I can’t help but stay speechless in awe at his beauty. I’ve always known he’s attractive, but I’ve never really taken a good look at him before. I’m almost regretting not paying careful attention before. After looking into his gorgeous irises, my eyes set on his hair. A beautiful shade of brunette, styled to lay up and off of his forehead, only it looks effortless. Small, loose curls peek out behind his ears and by the back of his neck. His hair is short, but full and voluminous. How is it possible for a man to have such great hair? I next lay my eyes on his lips. A natural, but pretty shade of a dark pink with dimples peeking through near the corners of his mouth. Absolutely charming. My heart begins to flutter looking at him, and my stomach feels like it’s doing cartwheels. His face structure is strong, but cheeky with a jawline that is insanely chiseled. The smirk on his lips finishes it off, making my heart jump even more. There is something a bit mysterious and dark about him, but I just can’t put my finger on it. I also can’t take my eyes off of him, taking in his handsome features. His attractiveness is already overwhelming, I can’t imagine him in person.

           The sound of someone clearing their throat takes me out of my little fantasized world, my head immediately leveling out and swerving my attention back to Garrett, snapping myself back into reality.

           “Well, well, someone finds this man quite the dime…” Garrett jokes with a playful smile. I immediately feel my face flush, probably a nice shade of pink. I chuckle along with him and cover my face with my hands embarrassed.

           “Oh my gosh stop it!” I giggle trying to keep my cool in attempt to prevent my cheeks from turning to a brighter red. “I’m just observing the person who will be ordering me around the next few years.” I try to give a logical reason as to why I was staring for so long. Little does he know I might have developed a bit of a crush just by looking at the one picture. Garrett rolls his eyes jokingly but accepting of my excuse.

           “His management team already gave me an address and a date for you to start. They are really interested in having you.” He explains, trying to refocus our conversation to more important things. I nod along to his talking, but all the while can’t help but think of Harry. I really need to snap out of this if I’m going to be working with him every day.

           “When and where do they want me to start?” I ask.

           “In three days, in London.” Garret says. My eyes widen with shock. This is absolutely crazy. I feel like so many things are happening at once, that I can’t really comprehend it. In three days…three days, I will be moving to London. Nerves start to set in, in place of my original excitement. I have never traveled outside of the country, hell I’ve never left the East Coast.

           Garrett proceeds to tell me the rest of the information. When our meeting is finished, I shake his hand and give him a hug realizing I no longer work for him anymore.

           “Don’t be a stranger.” Garrett tells me with his hands on my shoulders. I nod and smile, then continue on out of his office. On my way down to the first floor, my mind runs wild. I can’t believe this is happening to me. Never do I get opportunities like this, and I can’t help but feel excited awaiting my future in London. Once I get to the first floor, I walk out and take a deep breath. My last time leaving this building as an employee. I pass the main desk on my way out, saying a goodbye to Nina who looks shocked and a bit teary-eyed. I’ll miss her. Walking out of the building, I take a breath of the fresh New York City air. If I’m going to be honest, this place will be missed. I’ve grown to love the rush and the pace. The smells, the noise. Walking back to my apartment, I make sure to pay deep attention to everything surrounding me rather than ignore it. The bright sun is beating down on me and the rest of the city giving it a glow. The buzz of the streets never fades, and the traffic on the streets never clears. There is always something exciting and new to look forward to living here.

           My mind starts to wander off into thoughts of London. I wonder what the weather would be like, how the people interact. I’ve heard through talk that it’s always raining and cloudy. I feel a bit of annoyance at the thought but sometimes a good rain shower is calming. I walk up to my apartment building and start making my way up the stairs to the second floor. I shuffle through my purse to find my key and when I finally see it peeking through at the very bottom, I retrieve it and push it into the lock. Opening the door, I am greeted by Luna, her little paws scratching at my legs. I bend down and run my fingers through her fur with a smile. Living in a big city by myself can feel a little lonely sometimes. Ever since I got Luna though I have company to look forward to when I come home which is nice. Although she is just a small little Yorkie, I feel like the two of us are companions. I never had a dog growing up, my mom never liked them. It’s a shame because I longed to grow up with a family dog, to always have someone to cuddle with.

           I stand up from a bent position and make my way towards my kitchen, the size of a decently large walk-in closet. I toss my bag on the island, kick my shoes off and let out a relieved sigh at the feeling of my feet no longer compressed by the narrow shape of my flats. Feeling a sting I arch my back and turn my head to my backside in attempt to see my feet where the sting is coming from. The back of my right heel has turned red with a fresh tiny cut forming from the harsh leather of my flats. I scoff at the sight and roughly search through my vitamin cabinet for a Band-Aid, hoping it would make it feel a little bit better. As I am peeling the Band-Aid from the thin paper I hear a buzz coming from my purse. Reaching my hand in my bag I grab my phone which is reading an unrecognizable number on the lock screen. Reluctant, I answer.

           “Hello?” I politely answer.

           “Y/N Y/L/N?” A man’s voice responds.

           “This is she. Who am I speaking to?” I cautiously ask. The number that called wasn’t a familiar area code.

           “My name is Jeff Azoff. I’m Harry Styles’ manager and I was just informed that you will be joining our team as Harry’s personal assistant.” The man on the other end has a youthful tone, making me wonder how old this guy is. 

           “Oh hi! Yes, I am coming to London in about three days to start.” I say.

           “About that…” Jeff chuckles through the phone as he trails off. “There has been a change of plans. We are going to need you to start tomorrow.” Jeff finishes his sentence and my heart drops. I start to quietly panic knowing I only have today and possibly tomorrow morning to pack and leave.

           “Wow okay…um sounds good!” I let out a little laugh in response to the situation. Jeff lets me know that the plane ticket is already paid for I just have to pick it up and let the officials at the airport know.

           “Your plane leaves at 1 PM your time and it’s about a 7-hour flight, but when you get here it will be about 1-2 in the morning because of the time difference.” He explains. Shit. The jetlag is going to be terrible. We finish up the conversation and say our goodbyes. After hanging up I immediately run to my room and take out the biggest luggage I can find in my closet. I am not actually moving out of my apartment, so I am going to try and pack as much as I think I’ll need. Who knows how long I’ll be gone. 

A/N- I’m not sure where I’m taking it, so I’m open to suggestions to help thicken the plot once the story starts to advance…thank you for reading! I’ll let you guys know when I’m updating :)

[goodnightkisseu]

Kang Daniel - Yearning (Sequel to ’Addicted’)

Genre: Angst, this one isn’t smut but it is quite suggestive at the beginning so read at your own discretion

Note: So, for Daniel’s birthday this year, I decided to finally write the sequel to ‘Addicted’!!! ‘Addicted’ was one of my all-time favorite stories and I know that it is one that a lot have enjoyed. For a long time I was asked to write a sequel for it, but I felt like I wasn’t ready at the time? But I finally got some inspiration for it!

I hope that this is a good sequel and ending. I think I had really high expectations for myself on this one, so I’m really worried about it. I hope that it is still enjoyable for everyone. ;;

Also, a very happy birthday to Daniel today! He’s such an amazing man and is too good at his job as a bias-wrecker from the very beginning ;;  I think today will be the day that I just promote him to being an official bias alongside Ong and Jisung X3 Thank you for being such an incredible muse, Daniel!

Anyway, I’m sorry if this is not a perfect sequel, but I hope that it is something that everyone can still enjoy. Please feel free to let me know what you think! Enjoy!

- goodnightkisseu’s admin / ashley <3

Those familiar lips that shaped so perfectly to yours, that knew exactly where to kiss along your neck to make you want more. Those large hands that always traveled the length of your body before the settled and gently framed your hips as he pulled your closer to him. This feeling that was something only he could give you, had eluded you, only haunting your dreams on the nights when you were lonely and missed him. Now though, these feelings that had only been figments, were back in your life almost on the daily. You knew exactly what you were in for whenever Daniel showed up at your doorstep.

After your one night stand, Daniel had been messaging you more often, asking if you were busy. If you told him you weren’t, the male was instantly at your door that night. You never asked why he wanted to see you. You never talked about your days, because as soon as his eyes locked with yours, no further words were exchanged. He would be on you in a matter of seconds, your back learning to find comfort in the wall next to your front door. Sometimes you would managed to get fully undressed. Other times you were too hungry for each other to do so. Sometimes you would make it all the way to the bedroom, and other times… well, you just had to be a bit creative, the couch becoming the most comfortable alternative, though not the easiest. This had become your relationship with Daniel. From lovers, to exes, to hook ups.

And yet, though you were physically satisfied, never had you not been when you were with Daniel, you also couldn’t help but feel empty every time he left you.

You were still in love with him. There was no denying that. These were only supposed to be hook ups and nothing more. That’s definitely what they were for Daniel. Whenever he showed up, it was because he needed to relieve the stress from his tight work schedule. Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling more than just the physical connection between the two of you. Your heart would swell whenever he said something sweet, even if they were hollow words. Your mind would wonder what he was up to during the day. Your body would crave for his touch whenever he wasn’t there. He had completely taken over your being just like he had when the two of you were together. Your everything yearned for him, to be with him.

Still, you knew it was stupid. You were the only one that felt this way and you would often berate yourself for caring for someone that no longer felt the same about you. Every night that Daniel left your side, or when you would wake up alone, you would tell yourself that what you wanted was never going to happen. However, it was hard to deny how you felt, suppress what you wanted. You felt like you had to get a straight answer from Daniel about what the two of you were, and with very little hesitance you brought it up to him that night.

“Daniel…” you started softly, seeing his shoulder flinch and body tense in the dim light. On some nights, you would actually be so tired that you would fall asleep. On most nights however, you would often pretend to be in a deep slumber, as it made your heart ache just a little bit less whenever he left in the middle of the night.

He made a small noise in acknowledgement, but his actions never ceased, still reaching over the bed for his boxers as he stood to pull them on, along with his jeans. You lazily let your eyes scan of his form, committing it to memory again. His broad shoulders, toned torso, and even the little scratches that you had left on his back last week. You knew that after you asked the question that was on your mind that it was unlikely that you would see him again, so you did what you could to remember what you could, while he was still in front of you. Again, it was dumb, but you couldn’t help yourself.

After a bit of silence, you finally spoke. “What… what are we?” you finally asked. The words were simple, but they were so hard to say.

“What do you mean?” he replied, answering your question with a question. It was his usual response to you when he either didn’t want to give an answer.  It was the answer that you had expected from him.

“I’m talking about this, Daniel, our hook ups,” you said. Though you were playing it off as nonchalantly as you could, on the inside you were a mess. There were answers that you wanted, things that you needed to happen, but luckily, the logical side of your brain kept your emotions in check. “Is that all we’re going to do? You… you have no intentions of us getting back together?”

Those words got Daniel to stop. He had been sitting on the edge of your bed, with his shirt his hands, seemingly frozen by what you had just said. His actions told you that he knew that you would eventually ask this question, but it seemed that it didn’t occur to him that it would happen any time soon. After a moment, he left out a heavy sigh, his arms finding movement again as they pulled his loose shirt over him. He found his way to his feet again and he turned to finally look at you. You weren’t sure if he had intended to, but his eyes had definitely given you a once over before he looked away. “Look, I know what you want me to say, but I don’t have an answer for you. I’m sorry,” he replied, keeping his answer curt before he picked up the rest of his things and left the room.

It was your turn to be stunned by his words. Much less the content of them, but how cold they sounded. It wasn’t until you heard the front door close that you seemed to regain control of your body. With a heavy sigh, you rolled over in bed, pulled your limbs closer to your body. You knew that this was the answer that was to come, but it still hurt. His cold words only made your heart ache more, pining for the one thing it couldn’t have; his love.

And for the first time in this ambiguous dance with Daniel, you felt tears welling up in your eyes. You weren’t over him, but you knew that, by all means, he was over you.

========

Just as you had expected, Daniel didn’t message you again after that night. It was a little painful, and though you tried to deny it, you were definitely hurt. Still, you tried to not let it affect your outward appearance to your friends and coworkers. You thought that Daniel dropping you like this, would be your chance to just stop cold turkey. Maybe you could finally get back to where you were before you saw him again, before he turned your life upside down like he always did.

But you weren’t so lucky.

You had been walking home from dinner with your friend when you finally saw Daniel again. At first you had thought of just turning tail and running, but you told yourself that you had to confront this head on if you wanted to move on for good. At least that was what you told yourself, before you saw her. Wrapped around his arm was a girl, possibly a little younger than the two of you were, and she was beaming up at him, with the biggest smile imaginable. He was giving her a small smile, his eyes forming into those crescent shapes. It was the way that he used to smile at you. Honest to god you had thought that you had just stumbled upon a different happy couple, that your eyes had deceived you into thinking it was Daniel, but when your friend had pointed it out it was indeed him, that pain in your heart intensified.

It seemed like he had officially moved on… and you were stuck. It was just like the first time the two of you broke up. It was happening again.

Unsurprisingly, with the way that your friend was waving and Daniel’s observant nature, it didn’t take him too long to spot the two of you. However, when he saw you in particular, he stopped mid-step. The girl next to him, seemingly a little drunk, asked him what was wrong, but he didn’t give an answer right away. You felt a tight grip on your heart in that moment, and when your friend urged you to go over and say them, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead you told her that you had to get going and turned to get out of that situation as quickly as you could.

Everything was still the same. You were always the one running away, and you supposed you would keep doing so until your heart found a way to fix itself. However, as you were so focused on getting out of there, what you didn’t know was that a familiar pair of puppy dog eyes never looked away from you. He wanted you to come back…

========

You worked hard in the following month to try and get yourself back to normal. You didn’t want to think of how much pain your heart was in, and so you buried yourself in your work, planning out your upcoming graphic novel. It was a good way for you to escape the real world, submerging yourself in your world of fantasy, in the lives of your characters that had gone through more difficult things than you had. You got to help them through their problems, something that you couldn’t do for yourself, and you had to admit, you found it fulfilling in a way.

During that time you had also made it your mission to not have any contact with Daniel, if you could help it. Still, you did get a message from him from time to time, asking if the two of you could talk. You never answered him back. You knew he was only asking to talk, but you didn’t trust yourself to be around him yet. Given your usual track record with each other, you were afraid where it would lead you this time, what type of trouble you’d get your heart into. So you just continued on with your life, pretending that you hadn’t gotten those messages.

Today you had decided it was time to work outside of the apartment and the office. It had become routine for you to just go from home to the office and back, and it was getting a bit drab. You decided to venture out and go visit one of your favorite cafés. It had been a favorite spot of yours in college, the relaxing ambiance always had a way of making your creative ideas blossom, and you thought that it could help you through one of your character issues today. You ordered your usual latte before you seated yourself at one of the tables, pulling out your tablet and started to work. You had been lost in your own world that you almost didn’t hear someone calling out your name. It wasn’t until the voice got much closer, when the individual was in front of you, did you pull yourself out of your world…only to be shocked by who stood in front of you.

Out of surprise, your tablet pen went flying out of your hand and landing squarely at his feet. You stopped in the moment, wondering if you should bend down and get it, but the male was already on it, picking up the small black pen and handing it to you, your hands momentarily touching. A shiver ran up your spine in that moment. Honestly, what were the chances of seeing him, here, today, on the one day you decided to work outside of your usual comfort zone? The universe was really messing with you today…

“Daniel…” you said quietly in response, your brain still trying to process it all. Your response seemed to shock him a bit. Maybe he was expecting a bit more?

“I didn’t know you still came here,” he said quickly, knowing that if he didn’t say something fast that you just might have gone running out of there like you did the last time he saw you. Taking the opportunity, he asked if he could sit, and it seemed like you had regained your bearings because you gestured to the chair, allowing him to share the table with you.

“I used to come here all of the time even before we started dating. Of could I would still come here now,” you said, your words a bit flat. Honestly, you had been working so hard to forget him, to ease the pain in your heart. But seeing him again only made those painful feelings come rushing back. You had to remind yourself in that moment of that girl he was with. You were not someone that was important to him anymore. You had to forget. “Look, if it bothers you that I come here, I can find another place to do my work. I’m sure there are plenty of coffee shops in the area.”

“Anyway, I should get going. You’re probably here to meet someone and I don’t want to intrude,” you added as you reached to pack up your things, sliding them into your bag before pulling it onto your shoulder. Your hand gently reached for your coffee cup and you were about to head right out the door when you heard Daniel calling your name. Thing was, you weren’t expecting it. He didn’t sound angry, he didn’t even sound neutral. It was almost as if… he said your name in pain.

“Please… please don’t leave. I came here because I thought I could find you. I really need to talk to you…” he said, his words soft. His tone was full of regret, full of sadness, and this pulled at your heartstrings so violently that you couldn’t move. Your brain told you to leave, to forget about him, but your heart and body wouldn’t let you. They told you to stay, to hear him out… and they always won. They always betrayed you when it came to Daniel.

Against your better judgment you caved and walked back to the table, sitting yourself down across form the man that had broken your heart on many occasions… and was still breaking it now.

“What do you want to talk about?” you asked, though you couldn’t look at him. Your eyes were fixated on your coffee cup, and honestly on anything that wasn’t Kang Daniel.

He had gotten you to stay, and what he really needed to do was not screw up this next part. But truth be told, Daniel was having a hard time finding his words. Honestly, over the last few months he had missed you. Not just the physical contact with you, but just… you. He missed seeing you. He missed messaging you. He missed you greatly. And it was something that he hadn’t been willing to admit at first. He wanted to keep thinking that the two of you were only meant to hook up, that it was all that was left of the two of you. But the more time you spent together at night, the more that he knew it was more than that. That he did indeed want you back.

Thing was, Daniel was never very good with his words, so when you confronted him about what you were, he didn’t really know how to answer you. He didn’t know how the two of you could try again without ultimately repeating the same thing that had happened before. So he opted not to answer you, something that he knew ultimately ruined his chances.

Yet here you were, giving him a chance and he didn’t know what to say. But he had to say something. What if you got up and left again? “I… I want to talk about us. I… I want to try again.” His words weren’t smooth, but they were what he felt. 

“Daniel, what are you even asking me right now?” you retorted. Hadn’t he already told you that he didn’t know if he wanted to get back together? Wasn’t he seeing someone else? So why was he saying these things to you? And why did your stupid heart keep hoping that it was true?

“Look, please don’t leave. Please just hear me out,” he pleaded, watching as you settled in the chair in front of him. “I know I’m not a great person. I asked you to break up with me because I wasn’t happy back then. I was shitty for asking you for a one night stand when I knew you weren’t over me, but the truth is, I wasn’t over you either. I… I felt something for you that night, and I wanted to see you again. So I kept calling you because I felt like something was missing. I wanted to be with you,” he explained. You could tell he was struggling with his words, as if he wasn’t entirely sure they were right either. “But when you asked me if I wanted it to be more, I couldn’t answer you because I was afraid it would all happen again. I was afraid that we would repeat what we did before and I didn’t know how to stop that. So I just… stopped everything…”

You sighed gently, your hands resting in your lap as you looked over at the male. “Daniel, even if that’s the case, aren’t you seeing someone right now? You know that isn’t fair to her, and you know for a fact that I’m not that type of person.”

Daniel gently shook his head. “That night… you misunderstood. She’s a girl from work that’s been interested in me for a while, but I never made any moves on her. She was a bit drunk that night from the company party and I was just trying to get her home. I know that’s not what it seemed like to you, but that was what was going on. There’s nothing going on between us, and I’ve been trying to get in contact with you to explain myself. You haven’t been answer though…”

“And for good reason, Daniel,” you retorted, your emotions getting the better of you in the moment. “You’ve been messing with me ever since we saw each other again. My heart has been a mess, my brain can’t stop thinking about you, my mind can’t focus. And every time I get off track I have to keep reminding myself of how much pain you caused me the last time so that I can stop thinking about you!”

Your outburst stunned and silenced the male across from you. You could tell that he didn’t know that it was like this, that this was how he had made you feel, that he had caused you so much pain. Though you didn’t know exactly what was going on, you knew that Daniel was shocked and trying to think of his next move… which was not one that you had expected. He gently rose to his feet, a meek smile on his lips as he gripped his coffee cup. “I-I didn’t know that I made you feel that way. I’m… I’m really sorry. I’m sorry if seeing me again, like this, was painful for you,” he said slowly. “I promise I won’t bother you anymore.” And with that, he quickly excused himself, leaving the coffee shop and a very stunned you behind. You weren’t sure how you thought this was going to end, but it wasn’t like this…

========

Honestly, Daniel just up and leaving like that bothered you for days on end. You knew that he never liked confrontation, but he was the type that liked to work stuff out. The fact that he just up and left like that, it was strange. Had your words been harsher than you had intended? The more you thought about it, the more it bothered you to the point where you knew you had to get to the bottom of it. So here you were, standing in front of his apartment, unannounced, just to try and sort out your strange interaction. If it were anyone else you probably wouldn’t have even tried, but again, when it came to Daniel, your heart was willing to do a lot of things.

You gave his door a gentle knock, almost hoping that he wouldn’t be home so that neither of you had to face each other… but that wasn’t the case. Instead, Daniel answered the door, still in his suit from work, his tie slightly undone and his shirt collar open, making you think some really inappropriate things in that moment, though you kept them at bay for the time being. This was not the time for that.

His eyes widened when he realized that you were in front of him and your name gently left his lips. Yeah, you were just as surprised as he was that you were there. “Do you mind if I come in? It’s a little cold out here,” you said gently, and without any hesitation, he moved to the side to let you in.

Even though he had readily let you into his home, you could tell that your sudden appearance made him a bit apprehensive. You felt the same honestly. You weren’t sure what you expected to come out of things, but you were here, and there was no turning back.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked when his curiosity go the better of him.

You gave a gentle sigh. “I felt bad that you just ran off the last time we talked. I wanted to make sure that I didn’t upset you with how angry I got…”

“I was at fault for that. You know that wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have brought up something like with you. You deserve to move on, to be with someone better,” Daniel admitted.

“Funny to think that you think that there’s someone better for me when my stupid heart can only think of you.” Your words sounded bitter, but it was more a realization of this situation that you and Daniel had gotten yourselves into. The both of you still felt something for each other, but had gone about it all in the wrong way. It made the situation worse and here the both of you were, trying to pick up the pieces.

“About what you said last week, were you telling the truth?” you asked. “Do you really want to try again?”

He looked up from the ground, his ears perking up at your words. He didn’t answer right away, but he did give you a small nod. “I meant every word. I have missed you, and I do want to try again if you’d give me the chance,” he said honestly, his demeanor showing you that he wasn’t lying.

“Look, I can’t promise that we’ll work out a second time. I can’t even promise that I’ll be accepting right away, but I would be willing to try too. I’ve… I’ve missed you too,” you admitted out loud for the first time, watching as Daniel slowly approached you.

He gently took your hands in his as he rested he forehead against yours. “I’ll do better this time, I promise.”

“All I ask is that you try,” you replied, and he gently gave you a kiss on the forehead before moving away from you, leaving you a little confused.

“The night is still young,” he finally said when he was back with jacket in hand. “I want to take you out,” he offered.

“You don’t have to do that, Daniel.”

He shook his head in response. “No, I want to. I want to take you on a proper date again.”

You rolled your eyes at him, knowing that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Where to?”

“I was thinking some jjigae?” he said, immediately breaking into a smile as you gently punched his arm.

“What, so you can spill soup on me like you did on our first date when that cute cat walked by?” you retorted, the male leading you out of the apartment and locking up.

“I promise that I won’t do that this time. Trust me,” he told you. And though you joked with him about how little it meant to trust him again, you knew that your heart had already given into its yearning for him. There was no guarantee that this would end well, that the two of you would work out. But sometimes, starting over was worth the risk…