#so I'll clarify that it wasn't a ''oh shit I'm a boy'' moment it was an ''oh shit I am Not Straight'' moment

[leejeann]

17-y/o me “Man, what if I was a boy and then I could date my girl best friend who is straight, surely there’s no deeper meaning to this” vs Imogen “Man, it sure would be easier if I was just into girls, surely there’s no deeper meaning to this” fight

(I’m only at episode 5 as I post this, so don’t tell me if I’m right or not lol. I just immediately saw myself and thought it was too funny not to post)

[bippot]

Sick Little Baby

Story Summary -> Poor Eddie didn't show up to school because he has a bit of a cough and Wayne needs his rest, so his best friend and her puppy are willing to come to his aid.

Tags -> Domestic Fluff, Sick Character, Cutesy, Friends to Lovers, Caretaking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

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Skipping school was something that Eddie did often. Very often. All of Hellfire didn't bat an eyelid when he didn't show up at lunch. Maybe he was at a deal. Maybe he was still sleeping. Maybe he just didn't want to.

Yet, they knew with one hundred percent certainty that he'd never miss a Thursday. That's when their campaign was. They can't have a session without the DM! That's literally impossible.

Dustin, ever the sweetheart, decided to call the Munson household to check up on their buddy. Well, he had the idea to call. "You do it," he whined, looking up at Y/N and shoving the note with Eddie's number into her hands.

"You're just scared Wayne will answer."

"Yes, I am. He's so scary, and he knows you."

"Wayne is not scary."

"He is too!"

Y/N chuckled at the younger boy and pushed him out of the way, grabbing the phone as she teased, "Henderson, you are a complete pussy."

The boy huffed and crossed his arms as if daring her to keep teasing him. If she did keep teasing him, he'd tell Eddie about that time he caught her doodling the rocker in her notebook when Mike took four thousand years to decide how he was going to take one of his turns. He had leverage, and he wasn't afraid to use it. "Yeah, yeah. Call the damn number."

So, Y/N dialled the number. It rang five before someone picked up. "Munson residence," A gruff voice huffed out. Wayne. It had to be. Oops, had they woken him? Fuck, he probably worked the night before. He was probably so beat and exhausted from his job. It made her feel instantly bad for doing this.

"Hey Wayne, it's Y/N."

"Oh hey, youngster." Wayne's soft smile reached her ear. Honestly, she had no idea why Dustin was afraid of him. The man was very laid back and friendly, so far from the cold and distant demeanour of Eddie's parents. He was a bit rough around the edges, but Y/N knew that was from a long life of night shifts and stress. But he always seemed kind.

Sheepishly, she twirled the phone cord as she apologised, "Did I wake you? I'm sorry-"

Interrupting, Wayne clarified, "I was already awake, kiddo. Eddie's been coughing all morning long." From the background she'd been hearing sounds that she couldn't quite place, well, now she knew were the harsh tunes of Eddie's smokers cough. How delightful. "Yeah, that idiot boy has come down with a cold or some shit." She could just hear him rolling his eyes as he spoke, "He ain't sick enough to quit smoking though."

Despite her concern, she joked, "Yeah, Ed smokes like a chimney," and tried to ignore Dustin as he poked her in the ribs, urging her to whisper to him what was going on. "Do you need anything? I can always stop by the pharmacy on the way home and drop some things off."

There was a laugh on the line. "Be my alibi when I strangle him? He's been keeping me from my beauty sleep," he replied, a hint of bitterness in his voice that caused Y/N to snicker.

"I could always look after him if you want to get some sleep before your shift tonight? I don't mind, really." And she didn't. Taking care of Eddie would give her something to do. With Hellfire cancelled for the evening, what else could she spend her time doing? Homework? Fuck no. "My parents are on holiday and my house is frighteningly quiet. A coughing idiot could liven the place up a bit."

It was clear Wayne pondered her offer for a moment as the line was silent (except from the distant coughs of the sick loser that was huddled deep in his duvet in his room), until he finally responded, "I knew you were my favourite of Eddie's friends for a reason." A small smirk slipped onto his face as added, "Just don't kill him."

She grinned back, "I'll do my best. I'll pick him up after school."

"Okay. Thanks, kid. I owe you big time. Talk to ya later, alright?"

"Later, Wayne." After hanging up, she smiled and looked over at her friend. Dustin had the smuggest, the most knowing look on his face that she had ever seen. It made her roll her eyes and sigh, "Shut up," but there was no heat behind the words as they both laughed.

"Oh, Eddie. Let me take care of you, my sick little baby," he teased, doing an awful impression of Y/N. She playfully punched his arm and laughed, shaking her head in exasperation, but there was no denying how pink her cheeks had become.

"Shut it."

Humorously, Dustin turned his back to her and wrapped his arms around himself to mimic smooching as his voice got higher and he continued, "Mwah, mwah, one day I'm going to be Mrs. Munson, just you wait. Eddie! Yes, I will marry you! I will bear your fuzzy headed offspring! Mwah, I just love making out with you so much-'' He didn't hear any protests from her, so he turned back around and found that she'd already walked away, meaning that whoever had passed by the telephone had heard him say all that shit and maybe just assumed it was him doing some weird shit. One girl gave him a look. She didn't say anything, but he could tell she was thinking something homophobic. That's the eighties for you, baby.

Hellfire was postponed and Y/N left for Eddie's house the moment the bell rang (well, the drug store then Eddie's). Wayne saw her car park up and almost pushed Eddie out of the door with a "There she is, your Knight in shining...dungarees!" The older Munson looked as tired as she'd expected him to. His hair stuck up in every direction and he had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His clothes were rumpled and slightly dirty. He clearly hadn't taken a shower yet.

Eddie looked just as bad, if not worse. He wore a thick hoodie and sweatpants and a blanket hastily tied around his shoulders like a cape, and despite this, he still was shivering. In an attempt to make his hair look less like a dishevelled mop on his head, he'd tied it up in a haphazard bun that was mostly falling out. His nose was red and his expression was one of 'Yeah, I'm not having a great time right now.'

Rolling down her window, she taunted, "Wow, you look like hell."

"Thanks," he sarcastically muttered as he got into her car. There was a small smile tugging at his lips as he closed the door. "How would you like it if I said you looked like shit?"

"I said you looked like hell, not shit."

"Oh, so I don't look like shit?"

"No. You do."

Giving a grateful wave, Wayne went back inside the trailer, presumably to finally get that good shut eye that he needed. As soon as he left, she started the engine and drove to her house. "How are you feeling?" she asked, glancing at Eddie who still had the blanket wrapped tightly around his body.

He shrugged and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked out the window. "Like crap, actually," he admitted groggily, turning towards her and letting her see the pout on his face. His pout was adorable and endearing, but she didn't think it was helping his condition in any way, shape or form. It made her giggle, which was probably a bad thing considering that he turned his glare on her, but honestly, it didn't bother her nearly as much as he thought it would. He was very cute at the moment and she couldn't take his grumpiness seriously.

When they arrived at her house, Eddie jumped out of her car like a little child and hobbled toward her front porch, clutching his blanket like a explorer desperately. clinging to warmth in the arctic tundra. The moment she opened the door, a puppy excitedly ran down the stairs to greet them. She crouched down and let the pup sniff her hand before she picked him up. "I missed you too, Chewie," she declared as the mini Briard happily licked her cheek. Y/N chuckled as she scratched behind his ear and held him against her chest as they made their way inside her abode.

Eddie immediately flopped down on her couch, wrapping his blanket more securely around his frame and burying his face in the throw pillow. He was completely silent, save for the occasional cough. "You okay?" She questioned, putting Chewie down gently on the couch. Eddie simply nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. "You hungry? Thirsty? Got a headache?"

"Yes. Yes....and yes." He rubbed at his temples and glanced over at her curiously, gazing at her with those wide brown puppy dog eyes that she loved so much. Even without saying anything, she was sure he was trying to ask her a question with his eyes alone, and that question was clearly 'Please?'

Without hesitation, she moved to retrieve what he needed and urged Chewie to "Go cuddle up to Eds. He needs it, bud," and somehow it seemed that the dog understood what she said. Or maybe it was because Eddie had a blanket. She came back a few moments later carrying painkillers and a water bottle to find the pair sitting together with Eddie talking to the dog softly about nothing in particular. Y/N quietly sat down next to him and handed him the pill bottle and water. He eyed them with fake caution. "Cyanide?"

"Belladonna."

With a groan, he held his hands out to take the items from her hands and chugged them all in record speed, before handing the empty bottle back. Two out of the three things she'd offered had been provided. One was left. "Food please," he whined, pouting as he'd done in the car. She laughed and hurried to the kitchen to warm up some soup before bringing it to him. It wasn't anything special, but it was simple and quick and the smell alone was enough to have Eddie smiling like an idiot.

Once the bowl was safely within his grasp, she settled in next to him, propping her feet up on the coffee table. At first he seemed to look at her strangely, so she declared, "What? Do you want me to feed you too?" With a smug grin, she swiped the spoon from his hand and teased, "Here comes the aeroplane for the little baby boy." Now, she never would have expected him to open his mouth and let her feed him. And the happy face he'd pulled as she did it made her realise "You love being coddled, don't you?"

A small nod of his head told her everything she needed to know, although he didn't seem like he wanted to admit it. He looked at her quizzically and she merely gave a shrug before continuing to feed him. The silence between them was comfortable, filled only with the occasional slurping or coughing sound.

As she placed the spoon back in the empty bowl, she suddenly felt a tug at the side of her shirt. Looking down, she noticed that Chewie had snuck into their space and was laying down beside them, resting his chin on Eddie's knee. She smiled and stroked behind his ears affectionately.

"Thank you," Eddie eventually said, joining in and stroking the dog's fur. She nodded absentmindedly in acknowledgement before placing the bowl down on the coffee table and stretching out on the couch next to him. She was about to close her eyes when he spoke again. "For taking care of me. And Wayne, I guess."

"It's nothing. You're my best friend, Eddie, and you know I'd do anything for you," she replied, her voice low and sincere. He knew they were best friends, but there was something about hearing it that made him feel lighter somehow. She didn't say it often, but when she did, it meant more than any amount of words could possibly express.

To her, Eddie was family. Family that she was fiercely loyal and protective of. Family she loved unconditionally. The least she could do was care for him, even if he was annoying and stubborn, and a little childish at times. He was her best friend, and she loved him dearly.

Speaking of people she loved, it was now time for Chewie's dinner. "I know you're comfy, but do you want your food? Dinner time?" she asked the dog, her voice a little higher than usual. She watched as he wagged his tail in excitement, ready for his food. "Let's go then. Lead the way."

Chewie ran so fast to the kitchen. He was such a little guy! But he was fast and agile and, with the promise of food, his energy seemed limitless. He bounded across the kitchen floor, barking loudly as he made his way straight to his food bowl and impatiently waited for her to prepare his meal. Yeah, her dog and her best friend had quite a few similarities. And, she loved them both.

"Hey, hey buddy, slow down," she lightheartedly chastised as she saw how quickly her puppy tried to scoff down the food that she brought to him, practically inhaling it in seconds. "Jesus fucking christ. Breathe a little, babe."

Returning to the sofa, Y/N felt Eddie lean against her shoulder as soon as she sat beside him and sighed contently. They stayed like that for a while; Eddie snuggling closer and melting into the comfort of Y/N's presence. He felt safe around her, which was always a plus. Her hand came up to fix the mess of his hair, gently removing the elastic band that he'd used as a hair tie and untangling the messy strands. She could hear his quiet intake of breath before he closed his eyes and let her run her fingers through his hair, combing out the tangles and making it somewhat presentable.

It felt nice. So soothing, in fact, that he didn't want it to stop. Soon, his locks were tangle free - it took longer than it should've - and he let her plait it for him as Chewie returned, contently sitting on Y/N's lap as she worked. She finished in no time at all and took one of her hair bands from her wrist, twirling the hair into a bun and securing it with a tie.

"There we go. So pretty," she cooed in his direction, earning a satisfied hum and a smile from him. Now that was done,she suggested, "Do you want to watch a video?"

As a matter of fact, she already had in mind a movie that she knew he'd really like, but she didn't want to push him if his headache was too bad. He hesitated, looking at the television sceptically before finally nodding.

Repo Man, a beautifully weird movie about cars and extraterrestrials - two things Eddie was a fan of, and it was just lucky that her dad had rented it just before her parents went on holiday and left her to dogsit.

Y/N sprawled out, lying back against the cushions and wasn't surprised when Chewie decided to awkwardly slot himself in the gap between her shoulder and the back cushion, falling asleep almost instantly. However, she was a little taken aback when Eddie snuggled up to her, crawling on top of her and resting his head on her chest.

"Your boobs are comfy." he whispered and she rolled her eyes playfully, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him closely. He sighed and rested his cheek against her clothed upper breast, watching the film in peace.

After a few minutes, he realised just how much he liked being here, and he couldn't help himself. He lifted his head off her chest and turned towards her with a questioning gaze. She smiled warmly and raised a brow, waiting for whatever he may have to say. He took a deep breath before slowly speaking, "I'm sorry if you get sick too now."

She shook her head, her hand coming up to brush a stray strand of his hair away from his eye as she murmured, "It's okay, big guy. If I get sick, you'll have to take care of me." He smiled slightly, a soft chuckle slipping past his lips. "I promise I'll be half as whiny as you."

Now was definitely the wrong time. Definitely. But, he was feeling woozy and a little out of it so he replied, "Okay. You could be double as whiny and I would still love you."

His heart skipped a beat at his own words. Oh god, what had come over him? But, the smile and slight blush that lit up her face was worth it. And when she pressed a kiss to his forehead, saying, "I love you too," he knew he hadn't imagined the butterflies in his stomach. At first he'd mistaken them for general being ill symptoms, but no, this was different, this was pure bliss. Pure joy. This was love.

Settling back down, he gave her collarbone a light peck and continued watching the movie, the heat of her body radiating comfortably against his. It didn't take long until he was drifting off, completely oblivious to the world around him. He didn't notice the way the corners of her lips curled upwards as she glanced down at him, her eyes softening at the sight of his peaceful expression.

Chewie was the first of the two to wake up, and because Chewie was awake, that meant he decided to stand and walk across Eddie's back. Despite the fact that the puppy barely weighed anything, Eddie woke up to the soft pitter patter of paws across the back of his shoulders. As he opened his eyes, he found the dog standing over him with an expectant look on his face. He groaned, not wanting to move, but he had to since Y/N needed to get out from under him. He pushed his upper body up onto his elbows and shifted to get off of Y/N, not really noticing the smile on her face as she watched him struggle to lift himself out of grogginess.

Kissing his temple as a silent apology, Y/N carefully removed herself from the indent they had made in the couch and lifted her annoying little pup to the ground before he started yapping. He immediately began running around, chasing his favourite chew toy.

When she looked over at Eddie again, she saw that he was rubbing his eyes, clearly trying to keep them open, and he looked utterly adorable with his bleary eyes and rumpled clothes. There was a small dusting of red on his cheeks as he yawned and stretched his limbs lazily, the blanket slipping off of his shoulders. His shirt had ridden up slightly, exposing the skin of his bare stomach and she couldn't help but find herself staring for just a second longer.

Eddie caught her and raised a brow, smiling sheepishly as he asked, "What's up?" She shook herself from the trance that she'd been in and looked away, trying to hide her embarrassed expression.

"Nothing, nothing. Just, uh... nothing."

"You don't sound very convincing," he pointed out, reaching out and grabbing her hand. She was trying hard to ignore the blush that was creeping onto her face, though it seemed like she was failing miserably.

Maybe she should give up on resisting the blush, and let her face naturally turn red, instead of trying to fight it. "You look very cute right now," she admitted shyly as Eddie's thumb caressed her knuckles. He grinned widely, his dimples making their appearance as his eyes shone in excitement.

"You don't look so bad yourself," he commented casually, his gaze trailing over her form appreciatively, especially when she bent down to throw Chewie's toy for him, causing the dog to chase it even more enthusiastically than before.

Playing fetch with her dog was exactly what Eddie needed. Not only did he feel better after sleeping peacefully, but also, he felt happy. Happy and content. Still sick, but he wasn't so grumpy about it now. And the smile on his face was contagious as it reached Y/N's own lips, mirroring his. "So," she spoke softly after chucking the toy into the next room so they'd have some time to speak, "How are you feeling now? Do you want anything?"

"Well..." He began thoughtfully, scratching the back of his neck as he searched for the right words. "My head is still hurting, and my throat feels kinda dry, but I don't feel sick or dizzy anymore."

"Want a drink?" Chewie was back by then, tail thumping against the floor happily as he strutted past Y/N to drop the toy at Eddie's feet.

"Yeah, sure. Water sounds good."

A few moments later, she returned with a tall glass full of water and handed it to him, grinning as he accepted the offered glass gratefully. After taking a sip, he asked, "How did the Hellfire boys take it?"

"Like champs." She brushed some hair from his cheek and placed it behind his ear. "Mike was a bit pissed, but when is that boy ever happy? Gareth, Jeff and Nate were as gracious as ever. Lucas had basketball anyway."

"And Henderson?"

She let out a chuckle. "Dustin was too busy having a great time making fun of us. Well, mostly me, but you were the cause."

"Me?" he repeated incredulously, laughing at her absurd statement. How could he be the cause? "I wasn't even there!"

"You weren't. Yet, it was all your fault!" she exclaimed, smacking him lightly in the arm with an amused smile. "If you weren't so... you, I wouldn't get teased for liking whatever this is." She gestured to his whole being as if that explained everything, because in a way, it did.

Earlier they had said that they loved each other, yet that could've been misconstrued as platonic in some lights. That statement was a little harder to dispute. "You like me." He stated plainly, looking intently at her with those big brown eyes as he waited for her reply.

For a moment, she simply stared at him. Then, without hesitation, she leaned forward and kissed him, one hand finding its way to cup his face. When they pulled apart, both blushing brightly, Eddie chuckled and jeered, "Good job on getting rid of all my doubt."

"Don't mention it," she jovially responded, tracing her finger across his jaw. "I'm definitely going to get sick too now."

Y/N definitely was going to get sick. Swapping saliva? Yeah, school was a no go tomorrow.

"Oh, I can't wait to hear how high pitched and girly your sneezes are," he mumbled, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck. She shuddered slightly at the ticklish sensation, giggling quietly as he nipped playfully at her skin.

"Shut up," she retorted, pushing him away, but he just laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him as they snuggled together on the couch.

The level of comfort was through the roof.

"Can we just stay here forever?"

"As long as you want." She knew that what she said wasn't exactly true. Chewie would need to go up the garden soon. The sentiment was there.

Eddie squeezed her slightly, enjoying the closeness, as they lay there basking in each other's presence. Eventually, however, he felt himself begin to nod off once more, and it didn't take much persuading before he eventually fell asleep, cuddled tightly against Y/N, her scent enveloping him in an ethereal warmth that allowed him to drift off quickly.

"Achoo!" He woke up with a start and started tittering at the sound of her sneeze. She glared at him playfully, which caused him to laugh even more. "I hate you," she muttered as she buried his face back in her chest, wrapping her arms around him protectively.

"Nah, you love me."

Rolling her eyes, she replied teasingly, "Whatever helps you sleep at night." His response was muffled by her shirt, but she could still hear him say something along the lines of, 'You know you love it' with a dopey grin plastered on his face. There was no denying it. She couldn't even try.

*Click here for my Eddie Munson masterlist (including Billy Knight and Ralph Penbury), or here for the entire masterlist*

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

[just-some-random-blogger]

One Million In One Day | 10 (Final)

GOT7 SugarDaddy!Jackson Wang x Reader + Park Jinyoung x Reader | Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Characters: GOT7 Summary: His mother’s final wish is to see him be happy in a relationship, knowing that Jackson would be fine when she left him. But, damn, he didn’t have time for relationships, especially not since he was busy running his father’s billion dollar empire, thus the compromise: you. Word Count: <2k Warnings: Stalking, fighting, cursing, mentioning of illness, TYPOS, etc.

A/N: I literally said I was planning to finish this soon, but guess what HAHHAHAH THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN. I-- Anyway, to @tia-m94, @aquietkerfuffle SKSKSKS here it is. Also maybe actually listen to the song reader begged to play in this chappie lol

Dance, Dance by Fall Out Boy was going to be playing in the club. Why? Because I crawled over to the DJ and wept, begging him to play it. Why I was emotional about it: yes. I was just- yes. Y'know?

Yes.

It was why Nari, at that point, had disowned me. Also Mark, he disowned me too... although I don't actually remember if he was with us at this time.

I did remember where Jinyoung was though. I squint and looked out in the crowd for him.

I was wearing a sparkly violet dress and killer pumps, as in they were killing my feet. I was warned not to remove them though by the sour man watching me, over there with a sweater on and skinny jeans. Who wears sweaters in a dance club?

I mean it's fine, he was kinda cute. Like hecka cute. 10/10 cute you know. Would ask him out.

I finally spot him from where he sat in one of the tables by the bar. I wave at him. He sees me and waves back. I wipe the tears from my face and thank the DJ for promising to play the song for me and make my way to the cute man in a plain-ass lumpy sweater.

"What did the DJ say?" Jinyoung asks me, standing up from the stool and helping me sit.

"Well, first of all, I told him my boyfriend was really mean because he told me I couldn't take these uncomfortable shoes off."

Jinyoung sighs, "I told you to wear sneakers so we wouldn't have this conversation, but you insisted on 'looking hot.'"

I am offended by the air quotes he says.

"I so too am hot, you worthless piece of-" but my face is suddenly in his hands and my lips are being peppered by kisses. He lightly brushes his lips on mine and wipes he side of it, "Ye, ye, I didn't mean it like that, and you know it, pabo. You're absolutely stunning most of the time."

I blink, most-of-the-time doesn't sit right with me, but I'm not really sure why... "I feel like I should still fight with you."

Jinyoung chuckles then raises his brows and points, "Isn't that your song?"

I take a moment and listen. I then promptly freak out and nod. I instantly grab Jinyoung by the hand and drag him out. Once he's on his feet, he scolds, "up, up, up, up, up. What did we talk about earlier?"

I whine, "What is it this time?"

Jinyoung looks me in the eye, "after this song we...?"

I groan, "we go home! Ugh, what a party pooper."

"Just making sure we're on the same page, baby girl."

I make a face and poke Jinyoung's belly, "oooh, am I your baby girl?"

He chuckles and hums. He pulls his hand away from mine to place his arm around my shoulders, "More like shit-faced, childish adult."

I give him a look, "let's break up."

"Ah," he boops my nose, "when you're not under the influence, m'kay? For now, let's dance."

And so dance we did, if you think of flailing your arms and shaking your rump was dancing. But of course it is though.

Jinyoung, as exasperated as he was, actually enjoyed dancing with me, I think. I mean he seemed to be enjoying himself. He had his hands clenched and his arms folded, shaking as if he held two maracas. And I, when I wasn't head banging, I was lovingly looking at him.

"I'm glad that you're my boyfriend."

Jinyoung didn't seem to hear me because he just continues doing his dad-ish dancey-dance. I was about to say it again, but then his eyes catch something and he point at the direction, "Isn't that Jackson?"

"Jackson?" I scrunch my nose, "Jackson who?"

"Jackson Wang, babe. You're sugar daddy."

I take a moment to think about what he said. Jinyoung looks at me and raises a brow. He chuckles, "you're so shitfaced. Jackson's the one who bought us tickets to the Olympics? Got me a job in Seoul? Got you a job in Seoul?"

I wipe my nose, "Well, I know Michael Jackson."

Jinyoung sighs, "come on, let's say hi. Your song's almost over."

The next thing I know, Jinyoung's grabbing my hand and leading me off to the side.

Jackson, who had seen us, wasn't actually with anyone tonight. Bambam actually owned the club, and he had yet to show up. He found the dancing spectacle pretty amusing but there was a this thing in his chest, like something was biting his heart.

Oh fuck, they're coming over.

Jinyoung calls out. Jackson looks over and pulls on a smile, "Aye, Park Jinyoung." They do a bro shake.

I turn to the man in shade and wonder why he's wearing shades indoors, so I ask, "why are you wearing shades indoors?"

Jinyoung sighs. Jackson's lips part in thought, "they look cool?"

The sweater man shakes his head, "she's shitfaced. She cried over this song and doesn't remember who you are. You know know how she gets when she's drunk."

"I'm not drunk!"

Jackson clenches his fist, thinking, how do I still think she's cute when she doesn't remember me when she's drunk?

"Sure," Jinyoung says, turning to man sat alone in the booth, "you with anyone tonight, Seunie?"

I perk up, "Seunie's here?"

Jackson places his head in his hand and turns to Jinyoung, "I'm waiting for Bambam."

Jinyoung chuckles, "don't wait up."

Jackson laughs softly, "I'm giving him a few more minutes"

"That's what I said last time. Bam's excuse was so bad too."

"Stuck in traffic?"

"Stuck in traffic."

"Wait, where's Seunie?" I whine. Jinyoung looks at me and points, "there's your beloved Seunie."

Jackson freezes.

I turn to him and pout, "why are you wearing shades indoors?"

Jinyoung sighs. He takes my face in his hands and mouths slowly, "stay with Jackson. I need to pee."

"I don't need to pee though."

"Which is why you should stay with Jackson."

"But why?"

Jinyoung turns to Jackson and Jackson nods, "it's okay dude, I got it."

Jinyoung takes his leave.

Jackson moves closer, "so, Seunie?"

I turn to him and tilt my head, "Seunie?"

"He's your friend."

"He's my best friend. I love him."

Jackson clears his throat, "but you said you don't know who Jackson Wang is?"

"MmMmm, nope," I pop the p.

Jackson chuckles, "don't do that?"

"Do what?"

He takes a moment to respond. He mutters softly under his breath, "make me want to steal you away."

"Habudabibittiy-doo," I repeat his words.

Jackson sighs.

For a moment, I sit with shades guy in silence until he speaks up again, "He likes you a lot."

"Likes who?"

"You."

"Who likes me?"

"Jackson Wang."

I think for a moment, "Seunie?"

Jackson stills. He debates the consequences. He chuckles, knowing how bad these drunk episodes were. He clarifies the indifference in the question, "Yeah, I, Seunie, like you. So, so much."

"He said that?"

He nods, "he told me."

I blink and nod, "I like him too."

Jackson shakes his head. What a joke. He continues, "Jackson likes you in a way Jinyoung does, but sadder."

I pout my lips, "Sadder? I don't like it when Seunie is sad. He's sad because he misses his mom"

He pushes his shades up his forehead, "He's not sad about liking you like that. He's sad in a way he wants to be the one to bring you home when you're drunk and hold you when you sleep."

"He... felt like that?"

"He felt it when you went on dates, even though they were fake. He feels it until now."

I look at the man and see sadness in his eyes, "don't cry."

He gives a sad laugh, "I'm not sad, I'm happy for you. You glow when you're with him and he glows because of you. When we started hanging out with him, I thought he talked about you to grind my gears, but he just really loves you. I'm glad he does."

"Then why do you look like you're about to cry?"

"It still hurts."

"I'm back," Jinyoung suddenly said. He looks between us and says, "damn, you look like you're about to pass out, both of you."

Jackson clicks his tongue, "I'm tired of waiting from Bambam."

"Well, we're going home too. You need a ride?"

"Nah. I bought my car."

"Good. I really didn't feel like driving across the city for you."

Jackson rolls his eyes, chuckling, "same for you two."

"Not for her though, right? Anything for her," Jinyoung says, looking at Jackson with a smile, then to me, "come on, pabo." He turns around and gathers my arms. He bends down and pulls me up behind him.

"See you next week, Jackson," Jinyoung says. Jackson nods. They have a executive meeting tomorrow. Jinyoung was quickly rising above the ranks. As proud he felt, he felt a little jealous too. He really had not fault to him, huh?

He puts his shades back down and raises a glass, "I'll finish this one."

"Don't drink too much."

"Just the one."

He watches as Jinyoung walks away. He watches her nuzzle against him. He looks to his glass, "anything for her.

[julyarchives]

Thicker Than Blood || (M) || Ch. 01

Growing up in a tough neighborhood had you learning to deal with hard situations, the occasion leads you to cooperate with the mafia organization that took care of your neighborhood - Pentagon. Looking after yourself and valuing your safety brought you to adapt to the moment, but the line between working for them and protecting yourself is very blurry when you are forced to live under their roof.

→ Pairing: Pentagon OT9 x Reader

→ Genre: Smut; Mafia AU.

→ Words:  2.2K

→ Contains: Mentions of Alcohol; Mentions of Violence.

→ A/n: So this is our Pentagon Mafia AU Series! This story will be multi-chaptered and we will add more tags as the story goes on, we have big plans for it! We hope you guys like it and it is worth the wait!

→ Index: 01 • 02 • 03

Chapter 01 - The Collectors

The cute jeans and red t-shirt you wore barely matched the bar you currently were on behind the counter. The place was quite nice but it was still too rustic for your liking, too brown and dark. Usually, the customers were rustic as well, and had a certain grumpiness to them, just like the place. You shrugged for the nth time while lost in thoughts. Working at a bar on a Tuesday night was the perfect situation for boredom, and bored you were.

Thinking back, you barely understood how you got the job anyway, walking in there one day to kick your friend's ass for drinking while you had a job to do with him and the owner liked your style. He needed someone behind the counter, you needed the money, it was perfect. You were rather young and sweet, you knew that often resolving some complicated shit and arguments in the bar but you also knew how to answer when needed and to take no one's shit home, you still stood up for yourself. Ok so maybe working at a bar was the perfect job for you.

Not wanting to dwell on how you wanted a better paid perfect job, you busied yourself by watching the entrance. It was Tuesday, so you've been kind of anxious the whole day waiting for them to show up. You almost gave your excitement away when two figures entered the bar and sat in front of you on the bar stools.

"Hello, boys. The usual?", you asked them with a bright smile.

"Please, Y/N".

"Right away", you chipped as you turned to get them their cold drinks. It'd be funny to see them drink a sweet cocktail instead of anything stronger if you didn't know them a bit better.

Wooseok and Yuto were young. Sweet and awkward boys that most older people liked and wanted to pamper. That's what you heard anyway whenever you spoke to the neighbors. You also knew they were attached to the hip, always together and always messing with each other. They had a third part to their best friend dynamic and you only saw him a few times at the bar, but you knew they clearly loved each other as brothers.

But that information didn't add up to the other information you had on the boys. The reason you expected them every Tuesday was because of their work. And that was what confused you. As every person in the region knew, there was only one force to respect and listen and that was the Pentagon gang. No, not a gang. It was straight down mafia business and these two cute young boys were their collectors. So every Tuesday they went out to collect the fee from every block and at the end, they'd crash at the bar to chat and drink something.

Seeing them every week made you realize how nice they were and quickly put the whole mafia business behind them. You, better than anyone, understood that you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. Since then, Wooseok and Yuto became more open with you and always brought back gossip when they had a good day. After all, mafia men were still men. Well, boys.

"Here you go, guys", you placed the drinks down and smiled sweetly.

"Thanks, Y/N", Yuto had a deep voice and it always managed to startle you.

"So, any gossip?", you chuckled and the boys followed, lowering their heads as if to share a secret with you.

"Guy from the butcher shop was working alone", Wooseok said, "caught his employee with his girl".

"No way!", you truly were shocked at the irrelevant news.

"Yep", he said while Yuto nodded. "Oh, and someone's trying to get inside our territory. We saw a warning at a wall, directed at us and, well, at all of you".

"What?!", you shouted and they looked at you like you just offended their entire family. You were confused. One, why were they telling you information that may be confidential? Two, how could they speak about something dangerous so casually?

"We have orders to let you know, actually", Yuto said as if he was reading your mind. "We know who these people are but not their faces. We thought maybe they'd start by frequenting a place where they can get more intel on our people".

"Here then".

"Hm, yeah", Wooseok nodded. "The warning only said to be careful who is loyal to us or the community would show us. We guess they want to turn people against us"

"More people, more money. An entire neighborhood against us wouldn't be controlled by usual methods. So, that's when you come in".

"If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, then no way". You were bold enough to talk back and they only raised their eyebrows at you.

"We only need you to be on the lookout for someone different", Wooseok clarified, "if there's at least one person asking the wrong questions about the community, you gotta let us know".

"Helps if we can identify a face", Yuto shrugged.

"Do I have a say in this?", you already knew the answer.

"As much as you do about our fee, Y/N".

"Fine. But if they come for me, I won't wait for your boys to come to rescue me. I'll bolt", you said with a sigh in defeat.

"You won't be alone", Wooseok said as Yuto typed away on an old phone. "You'll be getting a visit from tomorrow on, he's our shapeshifter, blends in wherever".

"If you have a guy like that, why put me to watch anyone?"

"Y/N", Yuto sighed and looked straight into your eyes. "We could burst into any safe house right now and do whatever we pleased with whoever was in our way. But we do value our community, that's why we got hold of this business in the first place. The bar is where everyone comes for information and you know that. Don't forget why you're behind this counter, to begin with. We need the bartender to do her job and chat with her customers as she does. The info will come to you".

"I-", you were starstruck and kept glancing from Yuto to Wooseok, hands on the counter. "I- this is the most you have spoken to me since we met". It came out accidentally and you wanted to slap yourself.

Wooseok laughed and Yuto smiled at you. You could feel the heat on your cheeks but only nodded to yourself, still processing everything. They finished their drinks in one big gulp and got up, Yuto nodding at you still with a cute smile on his lips, one that didn't match his previous words. Wooseok watched as Yuto walked out of the bar and chuckled at your expression that slowly was turning grumpy.

"I know you'll do just fine. It's not like us to put people in our business but to protect people, we need you", he was leaning forward, as if to make you see him and only him. "So, congratulations, you got promoted!", he laughed.

"Yeah, I'm the lookout kid", you definitely were grumpy now. "You need me to protect people but who protects me?".

"Me", Wooseok said a bit too fast. "I mean, Pentagon does. And you'll have the right company for that, don't worry. He'll be here tomorrow night".

Wooseok smiled at you again and turned away from you, leaving you to your thoughts. Why the hell was this happening? You got why this way was safer to find out who was behind the threat but you still were unsure. Well, it's not like you could say no without a valid reason. And apparently, your safety wasn't one.

You watched Wooseok leave and sighed. Getting their glasses to clean up, you kept thinking about all the things that could go wrong but also all the things that could go right. Part of you wanted to impress them and come out as a hero, it'd give you something else to do instead of just being the bartender. You laughed at the absurdity of it all and quickly shoved it all in the back of your head, deciding to let the future self deal with the situation and this guy who'd meet you tomorrow, slipping back into the boredom of a Tuesday night at the bar once again.

Laying on your bed, your mind raced nonstop and you couldn't sleep no matter how much you tried. Yuto's words kept coming back and you felt even more deflated each time. "Don't forget why you're behind this counter, to begin with". You knew your upbringing was shitty and you had to fend for yourself a long time but you honestly thought that it didn't matter much until now.

Your parents fled when you were eight. They had some issues with themselves and suddenly having a family became too much of a cage for them and they fled. They left you with your grandmother and never came back. Your grandma was a saint, she was sweet and loving but she was sick enough to not be able to work, so you toughen up and started bringing money home by twelve years old.

You smiled thinking about how she raised you with such care and love that you managed to get that trait from her even if the streets treated you like shit. You discovered soon enough that all the love your grandma had was all the love you could get because no one liked a little girl who put her hands on whatever she could find to sell and get hers. You met a few people while you grew up and managed to turn out just fine even if it bruised you more than you liked to admit.

When you were around seventeen your grandma passed, you thankfully blocked whatever memory you had of her suffering and only focused on her happy memories. Since then you got her small and simple house and got more involved in the community, everyone who respected your grandma finally understanding why you were a kid like you were. Fast forward a few years and you got the job at the bar and things got a bit better.

You got up from the bed and scoffed at how things were mostly shoved on your face enough that you had to go with the flow every time. Fucking Pentagon taking over the neighborhood when you were a kid and now this. You heard more than participated in the whole protecting mafia business when you were younger, but the situation wasn't strange to you. Getting around in the streets you knew things and the most important one was to follow the organization's rules.

When you were twelve and started to hit the streets, you knew very well to not mess with the men from the org. But also soon enough you learned that the best way to earn anything good was to be on their good side. So you started to run a few errands for them and earned a good amount. Of course, you had nothing to do with them but still, it was a good connection. You didn't know much about the members in the hierarchy but you were sure that no one from the time you were a kid was still in their ranks.

You were sure mafia business was very harsh and violent but the boss was too violent once upon a time and things got out of hand. The neighborhood they swore to protect was being targeted and they brought the fight to all people. Fortunately, it ended after a few months of much fear and blood around the streets and you heard they all changed members. Rumor had it that it was their kids that took over when the parents died during the more violent times, at least in the high ranks. But you had stopped tending to them a few months before it went down so you had no idea for sure.

You only knew that Pentagon had a hard time getting people's trust again and started a more gentle approach with the community, hence why Wooseok and Yuto were dear to some people under their wings. They went over to everyone who had helped them directly and formally thanked and apologized for their trouble. Of course, they still terrified people who walked out of line and when the community respected them again, it was clear they were in charge. But now it seemed like they only cared about their own business and getting richer with their schemes instead of getting involved in a bloody gun war.

You realized you were standing in the middle of the corridor getting lost in thought and laughed to yourself before finishing the path to the kitchen to get water. The cold water helped you calm down and soon you were too busy sitting on the couch looking for any silly reality show to get lost into.

Halfway through the episode, you felt the sleep taking over you but being comfortable on the couch made you just pull a cover you kept there over you and stayed there, falling asleep in seconds. It was a very rough and long day, so you welcomed the slumber gratefully. Little did you know that while you succumbed to sleep in the living room, your phone buzzed in your bedroom, a small text that should be completely out of line appearing.

We trust you to do this safely but count on me to help. -WS.

[mimisempai]

Wait for me on the other side 1/8

Summary:

Mobius, a watchmaker, and Loki, a teacher, realize that they are separated by two years of time when they exchange letters from different years in the mailbox of the house on the cliff where Mobius lives. As the two lonely hearts feel they have found their soulmate, will they ever meet?

or the Lakehouse AU that nobody asked for.

Notes:

This is my very first multi-chapter AU. I hope you'll enjoy it. Chapters will be released on a weekly basis.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/81773392

3772 words - rating G

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

When two people "connect" the bond between them can be so pure and simple as to stir hearts in heaven.

When they connect in all the right places at all the wrong times, heaven weeps for broken hearts. To heal these broken hearts, heaven breaks time.

—Blithe Spiritus

Loki took one last look through the rearview mirror at the cottage on the edge of the cliff, which was getting smaller and smaller as he drove away.

Shifting his gaze forward, his face slid to the crate on the passenger seat, where Croki, his pet alligator, was sitting.

"I hope you will like your new home..." Loki sighed.

Then suddenly, he braked abruptly, holding back the cage with one hand as it slid forward. Then he backed the car up.

"Shit. I'm sorry Croc'"

He walked over to the mailbox. He put his hand through the window, opened the mailbox and put an envelope inside. Then his long fingers pulled the red flag in a vertical position, to indicate that there was mail. All this under the eyes of Croki who followed with attention all his gestures.

He tapped the top of the cage, "Come on, this time we're off for good."

He rolled, speeding up, refusing to look at the sign for the tiny village his home was in, New Asgard.  Loki rolled east, the cliff behind him, then passed a sign: New York, 35 miles.

The traffic became heavier as he approached the city.

After maneuvering through the various streets and making his way through the New York traffic, he stopped in front of an apartment building on a busy street. It was a very recent building, cold and sterile. The contrast with the tranquility of New-Asgard was striking.

He parked, got out of the car and took a moment to absorb the change in his surroundings. Then with a sigh, he began to unload his things.

**********

Loki stopped at the steps in front of the entrance to the imposing establishment - September High-School. He inhaled deeply to give himself courage before moving forward, climbing the few steps and pushing open the heavy door. He entered and walked to what appeared to be the front desk where a busy looking secretary was standing.

Loki asked softly, "Excuse me?"

"Just a minute, okay?"

Loki waited a minute, politely, then tried to get the secretary's attention again.

"Ahem... Excuse me, I need to..."

She handed him a stack of paper, while saying, without looking at him, "Just fill this out and wait for me there, okay?"

Loki handed it back to her.

"No, I'm Loki Laufeyson. I'm a new teacher. I was told to report here."

The secretary looked sheepish, "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor. You need to find Principal Romanov. She should be around here. A woman with red hair, dressed in black, you can't miss her."

He did indeed find the Principal in the hallway that the secretary had pointed out.

Natasha Romanov may have looked young to be a high school principal, but everything about her demeanor, her head carriage, her attitude exuded confidence and authority. She walked quickly down the hallway and Loki, though tall, had a hard time keeping up with her.

The principal handed him a large stack of files as soon as they arrived in her office.

"You will be in charge of the sophomores, this morning you will have three classes to teach and three this afternoon."

Loki repeated to be sure, "Three?"

"That's a quiet day, for a first day."

Loki looked a little dazed, he didn't think he was going to jump into the deep end and thought he would have some time to adjust.

The principal turned around, as if she sensed his hesitation, "The teacher you replaced let us down without notice, and it took us a while to find the right replacement, the students lost a lot of time for their final exams. We have to do our best to make sure they pass."

They walked past a student who was sitting alone on a bench, looking sulky. Romanov motioned to a supervisor.

"What's he doing here?"

The supervisor replied, "He was grounded because he took apart a computer to prove Professor Banner wrong and has to do an hour of gym under Professor Odinson's supervision. However, I can't leave the place unattended, and I was waiting for my backup to take him there.

"Peter get up," said principal Romanov in a sharp tone.

The young man stood up, a sulky look on his face.

"Professor Laufeyson, take him to Professor Odinson in the gym and then you can begin your lessons in this class."

The principal pointed to the door of the classroom in question, then turned and walked back to her office, not waiting for an answer.

"Well come with me, Mister...?"

The young boy followed his lead and replied with a pouty tone, "Parker, Peter Parker. »

"Then let's go Mr. Parker, the computer dismantler." replied Loki with a wink.  He knew he couldn't condone what the young man had done, but he couldn't help but find it amusing.

Seeing that the professor didn't look reproachful as he said these words, Peter lost his pout and got a small smile.

"Although I'm curious as to what could have caused you to disassemble a computer."

Peter seemed to come back to life, explained to an amused Loki, that Professor Banner, who taught biology, had said that nothing could compare to the complex construction that was a living being and Peter had wanted to show him the opposite by dismantling the Professor's laptop.

"But I was about to put it back together though, I don't understand why he got so upset."

Loki couldn't help but laugh.

Peter's face frowned because they had arrived at the gym.

They walked through the door and there a giant blonde man came striding in, "Peter Parker, it's been so long! Tell me what you've been up to again." he ruffled Peter's hair who tried to shy away from it, then he held out his hand to Loki who had to hold back a wince at the strength of the professor's grip.

"Professor Odinson, but call me Thor. Nice to meet you. New professor?"

"Yes, I am the new literature professor, Loki Laufeyson, but call me Loki. I'll leave this promising young man to you," He winked at Peter before continuing, "as for me I'll be teaching my first class."

"Welcome here, and good luck!" threw Thor at him before turning back to Peter, "Go change, we'll start with 10 laps running around the basketball court."

Hearing Peter's grumbles, Loki smiled as he walked away.

A few minutes later, he stopped outside his classroom door and took a deep breath.

"It takes a little time to adjust, but most of the students here are exceptional and the teaching staff is really, really nice."

Loki turned to see who had just spoken.

He found himself facing a black man, taller than him, and very impressive. But despite his imposing nature, his smile and eyes were very warm as he held out his hand. "Heimdall, art professor, welcome."

Loki grasped it and replied, "Loki, literature professor."

Heimdall gave a small nod in the direction of the door, "Good luck." then walked away.

Loki, surprisingly relaxed following this little interlude, walked through the classroom door with a confident air, placed his belongings on the desk and with an engaging smile on his lips addressed his first students, "Hello, I am your new literature teacher and I hope we will work well together."

He paused, letting his gaze roam over the entire class before continuing,"O Captain! My Captain! Who knows where that came from? No one? No idea? It's-"

A young boy raised his hand at the back of the classroom.

"Yes Mister...?"

"Keener, Harley Keener."

"All right Mister Keener, I'm listening."

"It's a Walt Whitman poem about Abraham Lincoln. And it's plagiarism of Professor Keating's introduction played by Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society."

Loki didn't lose his confidence at all and replied, "Thank you Mr. Keener. I'm not going to apologize for the plagiarism. I didn't expect anyone to contradict me since this film was released long before you were all born. Thank you, Mr. Keener, for setting me straight. I won't ask you to call me Captain, Sir, or Professor, but simply Loki. Yes, Mr. Keener, Loki, as in the Norse god of mischief... "

The whole class, including Harley, laughed and Loki thought that it wasn't such a bad start.

But he still felt exhausted at the end of the day, and he slumped into the chair at his assigned desk in the teacher's lounge. He leaned in and put his head back, closing his eyes.

"So they've worn you out already?" it was the deep voice, which he recognized as Heimdall's. He opened his eyes to see that the art professor had sat just at the desk next to him.

"Yet the Famous Five keep talking about Loki, the new professor who is super cool. It's been a long time since I've heard a literature professor on such good terms." It was Thor who came to join them and pulled a chair to sit in the space between Heimdall and Loki.

"The Famous Five?"

Thor chuckled before answering, "They're called that because they're always stuffed together, probably five of the smartest minds in this elite school, and as a result always going out on the town to..."

"…the benefit of science." finished Heimdall.

"That's their argument every time they get busted," Thor clarified.

"Who are they?" asked Loki, curious.

"There's Peter who you met this morning, he's in the same class as his two childhood friends Ned and MJ. There's Harley who talked about how you put him in his place, when he thought he had fooled you. Captain my Captain huh?"

Thor chuckled before continuing, "and finally Kamala Khan, the newest one, a little brunette, a ball of energy who always wears a big red scarf, summer and winter and who the other four have taken under their wing."

"Interesting..." replied Loki, thoughtfully.

"Wait until you're the target of their prank and we'll see if you find these kids interesting." said an unknown voice behind him.

"Bruce my friend! Were you able to fix your laptop?" exclaimed Thor with a laugh.

Loki turned around, only to find himself standing in front of a man who was a little older than him. He stood up and held out his hand, "Professor Banner, I presume."

"Am I that famous?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow as he shook the outstretched hand in a firm grip.

"It's mostly that I had the pleasure of taking Peter Parker for his grounding to Thor." replied Loki

"That brat..." harrumphed Bruce. "He's smart... but his habit of proving he's always right..."

The other men laughed in unison.

"So boys? Are we having fun?" a young woman with short blond hair stepped forward and held out her hand, "Carol Danvers, homeroom teacher at this crazy school."

"Nice to meet you," Loki replied, shaking the outstretched hand.

Unaccustomed to being around so many people and especially such friendly people, Loki felt a little overwhelmed and suddenly the fatigue of this first day seemed to fall on his shoulders to the point that he had to stifle a yawn.

Thor patted him on the back and said, "I have an excellent remedy for that."

"What is it?"

Heimdall and Thor high-fived each other and said in unison, "The Bifrost."

At Loki's look of complete incomprehension, Carol explained, "It's a bar two blocks away, good burgers, good beer and for good company, that's us." she finished with a wink.

Loki realized they were inviting him to come with them but he hesitated and finally replied, "Thanks. I better not drink tonight. I'm dead."

Bruce retorted, "We're all dead."

"Yes, but I still have a lot to unpack."

They nodded, and did not seem disappointed by his refusal, even rather understanding. Loki really wasn't used to this kind of company.

Heimdall put his hand on his arm and then said softly, "Next time, then."

Loki, not understanding why his throat was tight, simply nodded.

A little later, they separated in front of the school gates. Loki on one side and the group on the other.

" Bye Loki!"

"See you tomorrow Captain!"

Loki lived only three blocks from the school and soon arrived home. When he entered he realized how sterile and cold his large apartment seemed.

He had not yet had time to unpack all his things and the boxes were scattered everywhere. The first thing he had unpacked was Croki's terrarium, which took up a whole room.

As he closed the door, he heard Croki's typical little paws coming and rubbing against him as usual. He patted his head and headed for the kitchen. Croki was a Cuvier's Dwarf caiman. Loki had once wanted to get a dog, but in the animal shelter he had immediately felt a connection with the animal, perhaps because he was different, like himself.

Loki opened the refrigerator which was desperately empty except for Croki's fish ration. He put it on a plate and put it on the floor while commenting, "Need alligator food. And human too."

He was going to have to do some shopping tomorrow.

After snacking on a bag of chips, exhausted, he took a quick shower before going to his room.

"Good night Croki."

His room was as functional and depressing as the rest of the place. He went to stand in front of the window. Outside it was all stone buildings. It was very difficult to even see the sky. He sighed, "What a view..."

He pulled the blinds and went to bed. Once his head was on the pillow, he fell asleep very quickly, which prevented him from thinking too much about everything he missed.

**********

A red pickup truck passed the New Asgard sign before parking at the side of the path that leads to the house. Its back end was filled with furniture and moving boxes. A mustachioed man with gray hair got out. He walked toward the cottage on the edge of the cliff and stopped, hands on hips, contemplating the view.

He opened the door, looked for the electric power meter. He turned it on and went to turn on the light in the entrance and then in what seemed to be the living room.

Mobius examined the place, satisfied. There wasn't much. A stereo, some books, an armchair. But the bare and cosy furniture matched perfectly with the austere beauty of the small cottage. He looked out the window at the cliff. He was going to like it here.

It took him a good four hours to unload his pickup truck by himself and install just about everything he had brought. Once finished, he grabbed a cold beer that he had put in the cooler and while drinking it quietly walked around the house before getting in the car to go shopping at the local grocery store that he had spotted on his way in.

Once he had gone around the store, with his groceries in his arms, he went to put them on the counter.

The young owner and his wife were behind.

"Hi, are you new around here?" the owner asked him.

Mobius smiled and replied, "More or less. My name is Mobius."

The owner replied, "My name is Clint and this is my wife, Laura."

Laura smiled and added, "You're going to like it. Especially now that the weather is getting warmer." Then pointing to the groceries, she added, "We'll get you some boxes for all that."

"Oh thanks." replied Mobius.

Laura fetched an empty box from a high shelf. Now that she was no longer hidden by the counter, it was obvious that she was pregnant. Clint rushed to her. "No, honey, let me."

Mobius looked at them, feeling moved and at the same time fully aware of his own loneliness. He paid, took his box and left, but not without promising the young couple to return.

He parked in front of the small road with his groceries in the back of the truck and noticed the mailbox with its flag up. He stopped and opened it. There was an envelope.

For the new tenant.

He took in the groceries, put them away, made himself a sandwich tray and taking the letter, he went to sit on the armchair in front of the bay window. He put his tray on a small table next to it, opened the letter and started to read.

Dear new tenant.

Hello and welcome to your new home and congratulations, blah blah blah. You have made an excellent choice, New Asgard is a wonderful place and this house is a gem, as you may have already noticed.

I'm sure you'll love living here as much as I do.

By the way, I'm the former tenant, Loki.

Mobius looked perplexed but also pleasantly surprised.

The post office forwards my mail normally, but if something should happen here, because the post service is what it is and we are never safe, my new address is below. Thank you.

Mobius turned over the letter.

P.S.: Sorry for the pawprints leading to the front door. They were already there when I moved in, as well as the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner.

Mobius stared at the letter in amusement and could not help but check the end of the letter.

He went to the front door. The floor was clean. Inside and out.

"What did he talk about?" he scratched the back of his head before heading for the ladder that led to the attic. He opened the hatch, poked his head through and looked around. It was empty. No box.

Mobius went back down, shrugged, crumpled the letter and threw it away.

He finished his meal and went to bed.

The next day, in his clock store, while repairing an antique watch with an extremely complicated mechanism, he couldn't help thinking about the letter and its more or less strange ending when he was interrupted by the doorbell indicating that someone had entered the store.

He put down his tools, wiped his hands, and headed for the store.

"Hey Mobius! I made lunch, shall we share?"

It was the bubbly and somewhat invasive, Sylvie. The owner of the antique gun store right across from him.

He replied, annoyed, because she had interrupted his work that he loved, "I can't, I have urgent work to finish."

"Oh come on Mobius, there's nothing urgent about an old watch."

"It is to its owner."

She made a disappointed pout, "Well, okay..." she sighed and headed for the door, then turned abruptly. "Is it true you bought a house? Where is it? How is it?"

Mobius rolled his eyes, used to Sylvie's chatter.

"It's an isolated cottage, in a small village called New Asgard."

"You're sick to isolate yourself like that!"

"It's what I want and I already feel at home there. And now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to my work, which is not urgent." He walked briskly toward his studio, annoyed by the criticism of his choice, and didn't even hear the door close.

In the late afternoon, after his day's work, he decided to repaint the faded fences that lined the small path. The manual work, like his work on watches, helped him to clear his head.

A few hours later, as the day was getting darker, Mobius was kneeling on the steps and applying a new layer of paint to the weathered planks. He finished, satisfied with the result, and began to put his equipment away.

Behind him, a small dwarf alligator trotted along the path. Mobius didn't notice it at first. The alligator sped up and before Mobius could react, he stepped into the paint and left footprints behind him. "Hey!"

Mobius tried to catch the alligator but it ran back inside the house whose door Mobius had left ajar. Mobius was about to follow him, wondering what an alligator was doing here and if he was dangerous, when he suddenly stopped.

On the ground in front of the house, there was a trail of paw prints.

Mobius rushed to the garbage can and searched with determination through his trash when he finally found what he was looking for: Loki's letter.

He stared at it.

Sorry about the footprints leading to the front door. They were already there when I moved in, as was the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner.

He remained for a long moment staring at the crumpled note.

*********

Loki went out to have lunch at a place he had spotted not far from the school.

Finding the weather warm, he opened his coat and continued walking.

When he arrived at the place, he sat down on a bench and started to unwrap his sandwich, a book in his hand. He enjoyed this moment of calm, even if the place was crowded on this beautiful day.

Once finished eating, Loki closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sunlight warm him up. Just aware of the surrounding sounds, the water of the fountain, the splashes and laughter of the children playing there, an old man grumbling about global warming, the pigeons landing not far away, hoping to get some crumbs from those who like Loki had decided to have lunch here.

Suddenly, a horrible noise, a high-pitched squeal and a horn made Loki sit up. He suddenly opened his eyes and looked around.

A few meters away, in front of Loki, a double-decker city bus was trying to stop. It was going pretty fast, although you could tell the driver was trying to brake.

Loki registered it all, the noise, the bus, before noticing the gray-haired man standing directly in the path of the bus. There was nothing to be done, it was inevitable and almost immediate, the man was hit by the bus, and Loki, horrified, saw his distant figure fly ten or fifteen feet into the air before crashing to the sidewalk. The faint sound of the impact reached Loki half a second later, due to the distance.

Loki automatically took out his cell phone and dialed 911. As he walked towards the impact point, he gave all the information to the rescue workers, trying to remain calm.

Once he hung up the phone, he started to run towards the lifeless body.

_______

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

[rogue-barnes-16]

HOLD STILL

Summary: While in a dangerous mission, the comms stop working, which makes Natasha unable to contact her teammate when she got injured.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff-ish

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language, wounds

A/N: this is number five, the number of the drafts you picked in third place. Basically, this author note is for telling you that I got the idea from this post, and that if you guys want me to do more wlw fics, let me know in a comment. I'm not really asking for requests bc I got a fair amount waiting for me to write them, but you can write down a pairing you want me to write about. Love you guys <3.

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

I burst into the safe house we had agreed on meeting in, just in case shit went south and we had no choice but split up.

Damn our luck, that's exactly what happened.

When I thought the situation couldn't get worse, it did, because no matter how hard I tried for my comm to work, it wouldn't cooperate.

Maybe it wasn't my comm, maybe it was Natasha's. Maybe she was just out of range, taking the long way. Either ways, I had no way to make sure she was okay.

I reassured myself repeating in my head that it was Natasha Romanoff who I was talking about, it was the Black Widow. She was a skilled spy and assassin, she was a perfect liar.

She was okay.

She had to be okay.

I sat in the only bed inside the cabin, the top of my tactic gear off, with my gun besides me. I was waiting for Nat to cross that door in front of me, because I knew she was alright, but I needed to see it.

Thousands of dark thoughts invaded my mind, taking the place of the hopes I had been having for a few minutes already, really dark thoughts.

Because I had left without her, and if something happened to her, it was on me, because I had left her.

And if something had happened to her, if something had happened to Natasha, then I would lose my mind, because even if I refused to say it, even if I refused to talk about it with anyone, she had, at some point, became the light I didn't know I needed.

No, nothing happened to her, that wouldn't be fair, not after all she went through, not after all I went through.

It was just not fair, and that's the reason I realized something had happened to her. No one was fair for us.

My awful, depressing train of thought was broken by the sound of rushed steps towards the safe house's door. I stood up, grabbed my gun, and took a step forward waiting for whoever it was.

The door flung open to let my eyes see the redhead I had been thinking about. The redhead that was now pressing the side of her abdomen, leaning against the door frame.

She let out a shaky sigh of relief once had glanced at me, and muttered a quiet 'you're okay' with her eyes shut.

The hand that had been aiming the gun at the door fell limply to my side after I processed it was her. It took me a hot second to acknowledge the reason for her position.

"Nat..."

"Yeah..." she mumbled, pressing the wound harder before attempting to step in my direction, which was a pretty bad idea since, if I hadn't had good reflexes, she would have fallen. "fuck!"

"I got you" I whispered, passing her arm over my shoulders to help her get to the bed. "can you take off your suit?" she nodded with her eyes closed "okay, I'll go to see what's on the first aid kit."

"you got hurt?" she asked from the bed, her voice sounding strained due to the pain the wound was causing her.

"No, I'm just fine" I dismissively replied, not really lying. A few bad bruises couldn't be compared to what had happened to her.

I came back to the bed with the supplies I could find to take care of her wound, and she had upper half of her catsuit off, which left her in her black bra.

I looked away as fast as I could.

"okay, let's fix this." I kneeled before her to have a clear view of the wound, which, to my surprise, was caused by a knife and not by a gun.

"how does it look?" she asked, struggling not to press her hand against it. When she seemed like giving in, I took one of my hands to her wrist to hold it away from the wound. "be honest."

"It... doesn't look good." I confessed, letting go of her hand to reach for a cloth I had wet to clean around the wound. "but it doesn't look that bad I promise."

"I believe you." she replied, shifting her position slightly for me to have a better access to the wound.

"I'm sorry." I blurted out, not daring to look up at her, since I knew she was already looking at me. "should've waited for you."

"I'm glad you left." her answer was confusing at the same time as reassuring. "You're safe and that's all that matters."

I stopped moving the moment those last words left her mouth.

She noticed.

"you got the intel." she clarified. "that's all that matters." I nodded, somehow disappointed at her explanation.

"Good news" I announced, passing the wet cloth over her wound as gently and slowly as I could. "It almost stopped bleeding by itself." she whispered an 'okay'.

"did you find something to clean the wound?" I looked up at her with warnings eyes before reaching for a bottle of alcohol I had fought under the first aid kit. "oh boy. This is going to hurt."

I didn't even bother on trying to deny it, because it was just so obvious. "just take a deep breath and tell me if it's too much." she replied with a couple of quick nods, already tensed and waiting for the cloth now soaked in alcohol to reach her skin.

Her breath hitched the moment the the alcohol made contact with her wound, and even though she tried not to move, she ended up trying to move away involuntarily.

I rapidly retreated the cloth and lifted my gaze to check on her.

Natasha's green eyes stayed shut for a second, while she took a deep, shaky breath. "Nat?"

"I'm okay." she whispered, gripping the bedsheets. "keep going, I'm fine." the redhead assured me, with her eyes now open.

I pursed my lips in a thin line, my eyebrows frowned with worry. "alright... I'll try to be quick. Why don't you try to lay down?" she gave me a brief nod and I helped her recline on the matress in a way that she still was able to make eye contact with me. "just... Hold still."

Her hand was right besides mine, and I tried to focus on the wound instead of looking at the strength with which she fisted the sheets, her muscles tensed.

The cloth came back to the wound, and this time, I didn't stop when I heard Natasha's breath hitched, nor when ragged pants started to leave her lips against her will.

No, I didn't stop, just because I didn't want her to keep hurting for long, and in order to accomplish that I had to finish quick.

Only when her fingers wrapped around my wrist to pull it away from her wound, only when she sat up way too fast, I stopped.

"wait, please." she blurted out, with her limbs shaking.

"I'm sorry." I whispered apologetically. "I really gotta finish. Just hold still for a second okay?" She nodded again, taking a deep breath after muttering a 'fuck'. "Lay down, baby."

Oh gosh.

I had not just called Natasha Romanoff baby.

I had not just pet named the woman I loved.

We stayed there in silence for an instant too long for my liking, in which Natasha's pupils dug into mines and her hand fell from my wrist as if she was scared of what I could have meant.

But her fear almost looked like hope.

"I- Y/n-"

"Natasha" I called her name with my cheeks burning, returning my attention to the wound, which looked way better already. "Lay down"

She complied in silence, and this time her eyes were fixed on the ceiling instead of in me.

I tried to forget what had just happened, for me, and for her, and I finished cleaning the wound and proceeded to patch it up.

At first I didn't notice, but Natasha's long, thin fingers, slowly approached my hand until they were lazily intertwined with mines.

I tried to ignore it at first, but I couldn't help but to hold her hand.

"I need you to sit up for a second."

I turned around to grab the bandages and came back to my original position, just to see her already sat.

Without a single word, I kneeled on the bed and made her lift her arms for me to bandage her wound. "okay" I spoke with my hands behind her, passing the bandage from her back to her front. "you can put them down again."

Both of her hands landed on my cheeks, and I saw that fear which had been in her eyes just a couple of seconds ago, that same fear that almost looked like hope.

"Y/n" the way she whispered my name made my cheeks blush and my heart to pound against my chest.

"Nat" licking her lips, she passed her thumbs over my jaw. "think about it." I warned her, looking for any kind of hesitancy hidden somewhere in her gaze.

She quickly shook her head no. "not this time."

"Natasha—"

Her lips ghosted over mines, not really kissing them.

She was waiting for me to agree on this.

I closed the gap, taking my hand to the back of her neck while our lips danced against one another's.

Her hands left my cheeks to travel to my chest, briefly massaging my breasts and making me pant before going for the hem of the tank top, lifting it in an attempt to get it off me.

My the hand that had been on her neck as an extra support for her traveled up to her red waves, tangling it's fingers with them before giving her a gentle tug that teared a muffled moan out of her.

I didn't quite know which movement was, but it made her gasp quite loud, due to the pain that it had triggered.

It was then that I pulled away, resting my forehead against hers. "can't do this right now. You gotta rest."

Her pupils, now blown, observed me for a second, thinking if my order was the best option.

"Natasha."

"No"

"No what?"

She chewed her lower lip, hesitant about her answer. "nothing."

While I helped her lay down, I realized what she had meant with 'no'.

I pulled away from her face a few strands of her before pecking her lips. "rest baby."

Her hand pulled me to the bed with her and, as soon as I lay down, she gave me a sweet kiss.

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter 12

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 5,500

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

George was lounging in the warm bath water, trying to use breathing exercises to clear her mind and calm herself. It had been a long day, capping off a long almost-month inside the Supernatural Universe. There were so many questions she couldn't answer and she wished she could turn her brain off; focus on anything else.

"George?" She heard Dean's muffled call from the other side of the bathroom door. "You OK in there?"

"Yea," She answered quietly. "Just humiliated," She added with an eye roll.

"Don't sweat it," Came his unusually sympathetic reply. "We've all been there, or somewhere similar… or somewhere worse," He added off handedly, taking another bite of pie. It occurred to him suddenly that the two of them were alone and Dean had a thought. After a moment's hesitation, he swallowed his bite of pie and called timidly, "George?"

"Yea?" She responded curiously, her voice raised slightly to compensate for the sound barrier. There was such a long pause with no answer that she wondered if it had just been her imagination. As she was about to call out again, she heard him finally.

"Can I ask you something?" Came an inquiry so quiet she almost didn't hear it. He sounded uncharacteristically troubled and… nervous?

"Yea, sure," She answered gently.

"What do you know about Michael?"

"Michael who?" Came her quick, confused reply.

"The archangel? Asshole that's been wearing me as a suit the last few weeks?" She was suddenly reminded of the fact that she was living inside of a TV show and it stunned her into silence. "That Michael? Has he not been on the show or...?" The nervous huff in his reply shook her out of her stupor. She realized this must be a hard topic for him. Unfortunately, though, she didn't have any insight to give.

"Oh fuck, right, Michael," She swallowed and gathered her thoughts before replying with a sigh, "I'm sorry, Dean, I don't really know much. I hadn't started this season yet," She finished apologetically.

"Thanks," Came a sarcastic reply.

She frowned and defended, "Look, I have a life, dude! I get behind, I can't always tune in every Thursday! Trust me, no one is more sorry about that than me right now. Maybe if I had, I could have done something to prevent this insane situation." A heavy sigh dotted the end of her sentence pointedly. Then she had a strange, disconcerting thought:

Would you really have prevented this from happening if you had a choice?

The thought startled her and she guiltily refused to answer herself.

A welcome distraction for her was noticing the silence that followed her answer to Dean; George could tell he was still concerned. Reaching over and grabbing the door handle, she cracked it just enough to spy Dean sitting on the edge of the mattress, holding a take out box. He glanced at her almost imperceptibly and she could tell her eyes weren't exactly welcome, so she turned her head away but left the door open.

"Here's what I've heard/seen on accident," She started, pausing to think and then saying carefully, "He comes back somehow," She heard him bristle but kept going, "And you do something to trap him. Some kind of box… or maybe a walk-in freezer?" She was trying to organize the spoilers she'd seen and identify what was related to Michael and what wasn't. "I know that doesn't make a lot of sense and I'm sorry, but that's all I've got."

Dean sighed and shrugged, "It's alright, George. I'm just… feeling lost. Was hoping for some clues, but it's not on you to save my bacon." George gave a wry smile to the bath water and sat quietly for a moment.

Finally she turned her head to look at him and asked, "You want to know what I do know, Dean?"

Slowly, he turned to look at her with an intrigued eyebrow, "I don't know, do I?"

With an amused eye roll she spoke, "I know this--right now--this story line with alternate Michael? It's two seasons behind where you and your brother end up in my reality. And--at least as far as I remember--this alternate Michael isn't a starring role for very long."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at her in consideration, "Meaning?"

She shrugged and offered, "Meaning, you figure this out. Like you always do. You will figure this out and you will beat Michael and be onto the next big bad, whomever that is. Which, don't even ask because I really have no idea. Haven't watched those seasons at all yet… I think there's one episode where you meet Scooby Doo?"

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes, telling her matter-of-factly, "We already did that."

"No shit?! That already happened?" When he nodded in confirmation George 'ughed' loudly, rolling her eyes, "Damnit, that must have been one of the ones I just watched. What was it like?! Was Shaggy really high? Was Daphne really hot? Was Scooby just adorable?!"

Dean chuckled and answered, "Uh, yes, hell yes, and duh! It's Scooby Doo! Of course he's adorable!"

"Was it weird to be animated?"

He shrugged a little, "Eh, kin-"

She cut him off with a gasp, "Wait! Was all of you animated, like.. did you have all your-"

He shook his head and proclaimed, "That's none of your business!"

"Sorry!" George apologized defensively, then begged, "Tell me you and Daphne-"

"George!" Dean admonished with feigned offense, "I don't kiss and tell."

She scoffed and guessed, "Struck out, huh?"

Dean frowned and simply said, "Her and Fred are an item. I didn't want to break that up," to which George laughed in disbelief.

"Yea, I got it. I think things are starting to come back to me now," George teased him and he shrugged in defeat, unable to deny the fact that he definitely struck out with Daphne. When her laughter died away, she looked at him again and said, "I'm sorry I can't be more of a help. I know, I know, it's not my job to save you but that doesn't mean I enjoy not being able to." They were quiet again for a minute and she sighed, "If I could just call Ryan."

"Who's he?"

"She is my Winchester Wiki," She explained very matter of factly and Dean stared at her with an annoyed expression. With a smile she continued, "She's my friend and she's also a fan of the show; Got me back into it later in life and, well lets just say, she pays closer attention than I do. She'd be able to help you with this whole Michael problem without breaking a sweat. Oh and she's gorgeous," George tossed on and Dean raised a curious eyebrow. She caught his curious expression and asked, "You don't happen to have a phone with trans-universal long distance coverage by chance?"

Dean snorted and shook his head in bemused defeat, "Not on me." He was frustrated that she didn't have more insight on Michael, though somewhat comforted by the fact that-at least in her reality-he wasn't dead yet. That was something, he guessed.

"So," George smirked at him, glee in her eyes, "American's Next Top Model, hmm?"

"What, are you surprised? A house full of attractive models?" Dean gave her an obvious expression.

She shark-mouthed understandably and nodded, "Fair point. Allison cycle 12? Ooof. Hello!"

Dean considered her assessment for a moment, then nodded agreeably but offered, "Mercedes, cycle 2."

George had to remember who that was for a minute but then nodded emphatically, "Yes! Gorgeous and she was good. She ended up top three, right?"

They compared notes for a few minutes, until he finished the last bite of pie in the container he was holding. Then he whipped out his phone and muttered in her direction, "Finish your bath. I'm gonna text Sam for more towels."

When Sam got the text he snagged a pile from a housekeeping cart on their way back to George's room. They had also stopped by the car and brought up a few bags, per his request. Dean carefully handed George the towels through the bathroom door, so as to not accidentally see any bits, and then turned to Sam for a room update.

"Bad news: no adjoining rooms. The best I could do was five doors down. Even more bad news: only one queen bed." Sam held up the room key with a feigned wince. "But listen, I don't think we should leave George alone, so I'll just crash on the floor in here and you can take the room."

"Wow, what a sacrifice," Dean chuckled knowingly at his brother and snatched the key from him. "Shouldn't we have Cas handle it, though?"

"No, why?" Sam protested a little too fast.

"Because he doesn't need sleep. He can keep an eye on the little deserter. Make sure she doesn't do it again?"

Sam frowned, "She's not going to. And if she does, I think I can handle it. How is she supposed to get any sleep with Cas staring at her all night?"

"I don't stare at people when they sleep," Cas interrupted. With a huff he clarified, "I stare at the wall."

Dean looked at the offended angel and shrugged, "It's not that bad. He's quiet. Honestly, it's kind of comforting when you think about it." There was an awkward pause and Dean added, "Sometimes he'll sing for you if you ask nice-"

"Dean," Castiel admonished him for sharing something so intimate. Cas only did that for him.

Sam looked between the two of their sheepish faces and then assured sarcastically, "Yea, a singing angel staring at the wall in the dark. Totally not creepy."

George came out of the bathroom wrapped in the clean towels from Dean. She was now looking a little sheepish as well, "Hey, sorry about earlier. All of it. I jus-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Dean held up a hand to her. "Save it for the morning. You can spill your guts over breakfast. We couldn't get adjoining rooms, so Cas and I will be just down the hall; Sam will stay with you tonight. On the floor," He said pointedly with a 'behave' look toward Sam, who rolled his eyes in irritation. George nodded, barely listening, and let out a tired sigh.

Then she had a startling thought and groaned, "Shit. I'm going to have to put those crusty clothes back on."

Dean grinned proudly, "You're not the only one with surprise gifts." He took the bags that Sam and Cas had retrieved from the car and set them down on the wooden table.

"What's this?" She asked, grabbing one of the handles and peeking into the bag where she spotted the Friends logo hoodie she'd picked out at Target. "My clothes? My deodorant?! Oh Dean! Thank you so much! I would kiss you but you have pie like… all over your face, but thank you!" As she dug into the bags to search for the PJs, Dean looked questioningly at Sam and Cas who nodded in confirmation.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Dean grumbled, moving over to the sink to wipe his face. Sam shrugged in feigned innocence, laughing internally at his idiot brother.

"How did you get all the clothes I picked?" She asked, impressed.

"We got lucky; Sam happened to hear one of the employees complaining about a nutty woman who'd run from the store like a bat outta hell and abandoned all her stuff," Dean gave her a pointed stare.

She looked first at Sam, and then Cas and Dean, with immense gratitude, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Her spirits had been lifted a little. The fresh underwear alone was going to make her feel a thousand times better.

"They mentioned they'd already put back one or two items when we asked about it, so hopefully we got the right replacements." Sam warned her.

"I don't care! I can apply deodorant and brush my teeth; I'm sure I can put together at least one clean outfit with what's here! So I'm hap-" She suddenly stopped and froze, having discovered a strange item in one of the bags. "Wha?" In one swift motion she pulled out a pale pink lace bodysuit and held it up for them to see. With an annoyed, yet curious expression she looked at Dean and asked, "Someone care to explain this?"

Dean held his hands up in innocence and Sam inspected the garment in confusion.

"It looked nice on the mannequin and the Target associate who helped me pick it out said it was bold, yet feminine. Perfect for the new woman in my life," Castiel happily explained, sounding as though he was reciting someone else's words.

George blushed a bit, looking at Sam and Dean like 'is he for real?', unsure how to respond. Both men shrugged unhelpfully, avoiding eye contact with the item she was still holding, and remained quiet. Cas seemed so proud, she didn't want to ruin it.

Finally, she stuttered out, "Wow. OK, well… thanks. Very thoughtful of you, Castiel…"

"If you wanted to provide me with your exact measurements, the sales associate offered to help me pick out a 'matching bra and panty se'-"

"OK, why don't we quit while we're ahead, eh Buddy?" Dean grabbed up four of the remaining takeout boxes and motioned for Cas to do the same. He then reached for the pink, lacey material in George's hand, jokingly trying to take it from her.

She swatted him with it and held it out of his reach, "Hey! You're the old woman in his life."

He couldn't help but laugh in response, though he shook his head in annoyance, and then headed out the door with the angel in tow, "See you crazy kids in the morning!"

When they left George looked at Sam curiously, "Is it wrong that I kind of want to give Cas 'my measurements' and then watch him try to pick out lingerie?"

Sam smirked in amusement but nodded, "Yes."

"Oh, you're no fun," George chuckled and tossed the teddy back into the bag.

"Perhaps the wrong audience?" He suggested with a chuckle.

"Yea, that's fair," She agreed. While she rifled through the bags and grabbed out some black PJ pants, a light blue, short sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of underwear, Sam watched her quietly. To say he was relieved to find her safe and unharmed was an understatement. He'd also been thrilled by her admission that she liked it here, but, like Cas, he was curious what it meant. And what it could mean for him.

Does she like it enough to stay maybe? He cursed at himself for even thinking it.

"Uh, George?" He finally pushed through the nerves and forced himself to speak.

"Hmm?" She responded curiously, not looking up from her bags just yet.

He tried to adopt a nonchalant, yet comforting tone and asked, "When you were saying earlier that you felt… comfortable here? Like you belong? What did you mean?"

Pausing her rummaging, she glanced over at him, caught off guard by the question. Truthfully, she didn't know if she could answer it. She was quiet for a long time, trying to decide how deep she wanted to get into this.

Finally, she turned to him and said, "Back home I… I've always had this strange, out of place feeling. Major dysphoria my whole life and kinda irritatingly painful too, like... full body restless leg syndrome. I've always imagined it similar to how a trans individual might experience feeling like they were born in the wrong body, ya know?" Sam made a noise of confirmation and she continued, "Except, my body is fine--well, it's not the cause of this problem anyway," they chuckled together.

"It's more… my whole being was wrong somehow, like I didn't belong. Anywhere. I had trouble connecting with people and making friends; even my own family seemed so different from me. I felt like I was on a different wavelength than other people, and not in a snooty, I'm-better-than-anybody way but like a sad, I-have-hardly-any-friends-because-I-can't-relate way, so it sucked. Hard. My family wasn't much help; though they tried to help by testing me for every 'disorder' you could think of. Nada. I was just… inexplicably different and no one could explain why. I could barely explain what I was feeling. They--my parents--were surprisingly relieved when I came out after college. For them, my 'struggle with the fact that I liked boys and girls throughout my childhood' explained everything away so perfectly, that they wrote it off right then and there. But it never had to do with that; my sexuality was nothing I ever struggled with, I just didn't feel like I needed to tell them. And since I'm still queer in this reality..." She trailed off her point, allowing him to fill in the blanks, with a chuckle.

Sam nodded with a sympathetic smile, clearly reading on her face how painful her experience had been. Gently he asked, "And now, being here, i-in this reality, you feel...?"

Her head tilted to the side and, looking at him wide-eyed, she sighed deeply, "Now? God, now, I feel… normal? Or, at least what I can only assume normal people feel like." Suddenly her voice was heavy with deep emotional relief, "I don't know how to explain it… and I don't know why, maybe I don't even care why, but I feel so good for the first time in forever. Emotionally, spiritually, physically... The constant restless buzzing is mercifully just gone. Sometimes I think I feel it again--that terrible, agonizing discomfort--and my heart skips a beat. But then my brain registers that it really is gone and I still feel good! And that feeling is almost better than the best sex I've ever had."

Sam shark-mouthed in surprised appreciation and teased kindly, "So, I guess you did know how to explain it?"

George let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding with a chuckle and nodded, "Yea, I guess so. Honestly, I'm a little scared to go back," A few tears that had welled up as she was proselytizing spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably and she reached up to wipe them away, blushing lightly.

As George contemplated her admission in the silence, the guilt she felt over leaving them earlier was back. Why the hell did she leave if she'd felt so damn good here? She also felt like a stupid, impulsive child running away from the only people who seemed to care about her, at least insofar as they didn't want her to die. She felt especially guilty that Sam had stuck his neck out for her with Dean and she'd basically stomped on it.

Sam stood awkwardly, watching her with an empathetic grimace. He nearly leapt over to comfort her but… Christ, was this situation complicated. Maybe if things were different, maybe if she wasn't safer in her old reality, maybe if they hadn't handcuffed her to a chair and interrogated her, maybe if she hadn't spent the last few hours crying through an existential crisis, maybe if he wasn't terrified she would push him away in disgust? Maybe if she wasn't practically naked right now... maybe then he wouldn't feel so torn about walking over and wrapping her up into a bear hug.

After a moment of nervously wringing her fingers, George met his eyes and took a deep breath, apologizing, "I'm sorry I ran, Sam. I don't even really know why I-"

"Hey, you don't have to explain anything to me," Sam shook his head definitively, taking a few small steps toward her, now within arms reach. "I understand what you're going through-sort of, and you know, in reverse but still-I get it. Don't worry about it," He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it, "I'm just happy I found you."

At his touch, her heart skipped a beat and she felt her whole body flush, goosebumps forming on her skin. The sincerity in his voice and the look in his eyes nearly made her physically swoon. Was that an admission of something or just a subtextless statement of forgiveness? Staring into his eyes made her feel like she was on the downswing of the world's tallest roller coaster. She had to force herself to break eye contact before she could breathe again. He squeezed her hand once more before slowly letting go and as he did she had a realization.

"Thank you." Mustering up a smile through her butterflies, she clumsily grabbed the clothing she needed. "Anyway, I'm suddenly very, very aware of the fact that I'm naked-oh and have been since the three of you got here," She realized, blushing again. Jesus, I took a bath with Dean Winchester in the next room. Her legs felt like jelly as she tried to remain cool, calm, collect, walking toward the bathroom, "Uh, so, I should probably go put some clothes on, now."

Sam nodded understandingly and said with an earnest expression, "Hopefully not on my account." When George froze mid step and jerked her head towards him, burning red from head to toe, he faltered, "Er-uh-I just meant, you don't need to feel uncomfortable naaak-err-without-I mean you aren't making me uncomfortable while-without… clothes." George was relaxed by his shy, adorable stuttering, although at this point 'shy' surprised her. He'd been just as bold back at the bunker, more than once. He sighed and gave her a meek smile, "Uh, somehow this sounded less creepy in my head."

With a chuckle she put him out of his misery, "Relax, Ravenclaw, I understand. It's not on your account, it's on mine," She assured him, to which he nodded thankfully, a relieved expression on his face. She turned back to the door of the bathroom, pushing it open and stepping in.

When she exited the bathroom again, now fully clothed, the only light in the room was now the small, soft light above the bed. At first, the room seemed empty and George wondered if she'd scared Sam away with all her emotions. She was about to call out for him when she finally noticed a pair of big old feet sticking out from along the side of the bed near the window.

"Sam? What are you doing?" She walked over and found him lying on the ground on top of one solitary blanket.

"Just relaxing." He shrugged boyishly.

"On the floor?"

He clarified, "On my bed."

"Sorry, this tissue paper is supposed to be your bed?" She asked for clarification.

"Standard issue motel comforter. And, yea, it's perfect," He reached down on his side and pulled the right side of the blanket over himself. "See, you just fold the top over and it becomes a mattress and a blanket in one!" He seemed genuinely pleased about his makeshift accommodations, as though he was sharing a trade secret with her.

"Wow," she tried to sound impressed, "clever." She hopped onto the bed above him complimenting a bit sarcastically, "Quite the boy scout, aren't you?"

His head jerked up to look at her. There it was again. Another line direct from his dream falling familiarly from her lips. Hearing the pet name conjured images in his mind of the dream woman saying it. It felt identical.

But, how? That dream wasn't real. It was just Gabriel. George is a different woman, it's just a coin-

"Hey, can I ask you something?" George cut into his internal panicking with a soft voice suddenly.

"Yep?" He tried to seem nonchalant.

"Well… OK, I'm just going to say this because fuck it, I have nothing to lose at this point," She wasn't looking at him but sensed his nervous curiosity right away. Ignoring her own butterflies, she said, "Seems to me that the Sam I met at the bunker would have committed to that earlier 'unintended' innuendo." She raised a sideways brow at him, checking out of the corner of her eye to make sure he understood what she was referencing. When she could tell he did, she finally turned her head to meet his eyes and with a shy smile asked, "So, what gives?"

Sam considered her question for a minute; he wasn't sure where to start. Finally he folded his hands in his lap and shrugged sadly, "Actually, uh-about that, I feel like I owe you an apology."

Oooh, that doesn't sound good, George tried to hide her grimace. Her stomach started twisting in painful knots. What's that you were saying about nothing to lose?

"Por que?" She was trying to stave off a cold sweat.

"For… Well, I guess, how about handcuffing you to a chair and interrogating you for starters? For allowing you to be sexually assaulted by a demon? For letting you risk your life to come with us on this hunt? For hitting on you when you were obviously going through a difficult time? Take your pick."

She let out a breath of surprised relief and smiled curiously, "Oh… well in that case, let me just say: one, your brother was the one who handcuffed me to the chair--and it was understandable. Two, it's not your responsibility to protect me from the likes of Tim. He wasn't the first creep and he won't be the last." He seemed thoroughly unsatisfied by that response, so she tried to lighten it up by continuing, "And three, you didn't let me come on the hunt. Clearly I strong armed you." A tiny snort of amusement emitted from him and she smirked, then added curiously, "And, lastly, just to be clear… you were hitting on me?"

He huffed in humiliation, running his hand over his face, unable to look at her, "God, I feel like a real jackass." A blackhole was growing in the pit of his stomach. "Your world was literally turned upside down and you needed help not--not some weird, bunker dwelling asshole making advances."

"Uh, Sam," At first George laughed; the absurdity of the hottest man on television apologizing for hitting on her struck her funny bone. However, when it registered just how sober the tone of his voice was, the reality of the situation hit her again like a ton of bricks. She realized that part of her was still anticipating Jared to break at some point and reveal all of this had been an elaborate set up. It hadn't occurred to her yet that, for Sam, this was all real. His sincerity touched her.

She swallowed down the rest of her laughter, along with her typical smartass response, and smiled kindly, "Thank you for the apology and I appreciate the thought, I really do, but it's not necessary. You had no idea, considering I lied to you--which I'm also sorry about if I haven't already said that." That last part came out quickly upon realizing she might not have apologized yet. He gave her a kind smile and waved her off gently, so she continued, "So, please don't feel guilty. And I'll let you know if your advances are ever unwanted. Promise."

The deja vu hit him again so hard it knocked the wind out of him. His eyes snapped up to meet hers from his spot on the floor. A blush creeped across her cheeks as he stared curiously. She was back on the roller coaster, butterflies tumbling in her gut, but forced herself to keep eye contact, allowing him to conduct his search. She wasn't sure what he was so determinedly looking for but she hoped he was finding it.

A mix of emotions wrestled within him at the moment. Though he knew logically it made no sense, he was having a harder and harder time denying that he knew this woman, intimately--in every sense of the word. But, how?! And, holy shit, was she saying what he hoped she was saying? He could feel his hopes skyrocketing while he struggled to hold them down in self-preservation.

A huge yawn broke out on her face, ruining the moment and snapping Sam out of his stupor.

"Whoa, Jesus," She laughed a bit, surprised by the force of the yawn.

"Time for bed?" Sam tried to mask his disappointment at the disruption. She nodded agreeably.

"Listen, could you at least take a pillow, please? One pillow? For me?" Pulling the sheets back, so she could climb in, she yanked a pillow out and tossed it over the edge of the bed. She heard it land with an audible POOMPF right on his face. "Oops," she said with a snicker, reaching over to turn off the lamp on the table while he adjusted the pillow behind his head.

Sliding up under the covers, she settled down on her back. The deafening silence in the room allowed her mind to wander freely while she stared up at the ceiling. After a moment she rolled onto her side and peeked over the edge of the bed, surprised to find Sam's beautiful hazel eyes staring intensely back at her in the dark.

She whispered, "Sam?"

"Yeah?" Came a soft, low rumble, as he continued to stare back.

"How did you find me?" She wondered.

"Uh…" He turned away from her quickly and shifted nervously. He felt compelled to be honest with her; luckily the shroud of darkness made him bolder than he would have been in the harsh light of day. "We tracked you through the cab company mostly. Lost your trail at the diner and then… I'm not really sure. We were driving around and when I saw the sign for the motel I… uh, just had a strong feeling that you were here?"

"...uh huh." His answer surprised her. So much so, that she had to break eye contact and lay back down. She stared at the ceiling in shock.

What did that mean?

Though even as she asked herself the question, she had a feeling that she already knew. It was a feeling that didn't exactly put her at ease; raising more questions than it answered. She mulled it over for a few moments, before deciding she was too tired to pull at that thread.

She finally shrugged a little and said, "Good instincts?"

"Yeah… that must be it," He trailed off, having a nearly identical conversation with himself, and they fell silent again.

"Sam?" She said, choking back a nervous laughter. When she heard him respond with a curious grunt she hesitated. Finally, she blurted in a quiet, definitive whisper, "Samgirl. No question." When she could hear the smile behind another, practically silent--as though he was trying to hide it--grunt of confirmation she smiled wide, adding quickly, "And just so you know, that is the first and last time you will ever hear me utter that silly term of my own volition."

"Understood," He murmured in a teasingly serious tone, making her laugh quietly.

With another big yawn, she forced herself to stop engaging. Before rolling over, she tossed over her shoulder, "And don't tell Dean. He'll be devastated and we have a job to do." The sound of his joyful chuckling was the last thing she heard before sleep overtook her.