#that's the job description of a boyfriend actually all other risks assumed

[thekimspoblog]

Fanart of Wexler-McGill mediating Edward and Bella's divorce.

Thought bubble coming from Cullens: "See, why can't we have that? Perfect marriage, partners at every level, no weird gender role hang-ups, didn't rush into it with kids, able to settle disagreements like 2 people with brains"

Thought bubble coming from WM: "See, why can't we have that? Eternal youth, superpowers, suppressed capacity for remorse, the universe never punishes them for being garbage people, money and wish-fulfilment just rain from the sky inexplicably"

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (8/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 2.4k words

Your parents’ house was exactly how you remembered it, but again, it had been only two months since you last saw it. Contrary to your usual life, a lot has changed in two months. You aren't working in a cubicle anymore, you're not going on random blind dates that your sister and mother plot for you. What you are doing is bartending in a town far away from your family. You're fake dating your boss who happens to be the most dangerous person in the town, at least that's what you've heard of the rumors, but so far, James has been nothing but non-threatening to you. Yes, he was mean in the beginning, but a lot has changed since then. 

And now sitting in front of your parents with James beside you, eating lunch; you recall Barry's diner and you miss the food there. It's funny because you always thought that this was your home, your family and everything associated with them should make you feel at peace, but you were feeling everything but that. You were restless and anxious, and you wanted to go to that cozy dinner with James where Sally would tell you anecdotes about her life. You wanted to sit with James and watch him debunk the myths about his career that you believed were true your whole life. Turns out, he doesn't cut off people’s dick for disrespecting him. Who would have thought? And you decided that maybe you should stop reading those stupid mafia stories.

James sensed your discomfort, you don't know how he does that, but he always knows when something is bothering you. He brought his chair closer to you in hopes of providing you some relief. And it did, his presence made you feel at ease and you weren't sure how you felt about it. You knew you were dependent on him for comfort since the incident at his club, but being with him didn't make you feel caged.

You always thought that a relationship would make you feel stuck. That's why you never engaged in one, but with James, it felt liberating. Maybe because this wasn't real and the moment this turns real, it'll be a shithole. At least that's what you told yourself. 

“So, what do you do, James?” your father asked, and you nearly choked on your food. James's hand involuntarily reached towards your back, his thumb running soothing circles while his palms patted gently. 

“I own a club and a few other buildings in town,” your faux boyfriend answered, and you were thankful he didn't get into his other business. You wanted to ask about all the rumors in town and why people are so scared of him and why does everyone in the club carries a gun, but you were scared to ask. You feared that you wouldn't like the answers. Honestly, that's false, you weren't scared of the answers, you were scared that what if he closes himself again the moment you step into uncharted territory. And you really liked this fun, caring, swiftie James.

Everybody was sitting silently at the table which was unusual because usually family dinners were the place where everyone pointed out your faults. Carol kept glancing at your parents every few seconds and vice versa. Your brother-in-law, Nick, was focused on the food and their kids were taking a nap.

 You were going to thank your stars for this peaceful lunch when your sister broke off the silence. “So, how did you two meet?”

Every head on the table turned towards you expectantly, waiting for you to explain how you met James. What were you supposed to say? That you met when you interviewed for your current job and he clearly rejected you? 

Before the panic could make its way to the surface, James' palm landed on yours softly, grounding you. Your sister's eyes fell to your hands on the table and she scoffed.

 “We're glad you're happy, but at least don't forget basic table etiquette,” She commented. How could you forget the ‘no hands on the table while eating’ rule? Just when you were about to remove your hand from the table, James held your hand and placed it on his lap, lacing his fingers with yours. 

“Auntie Y/N!” A shriek made you turn behind, and you saw your nephew and niece running towards you with the biggest grin on their faces. Both the kids jumped in your embrace without a care of their surroundings and you stifled a laugh.

Bucky didn't like kids, hated them, to be honest. In his defense, what's there to like, they're always whining and crying, but seeing you attempting to straddle two 5-year-olds on your lap while their mother complained might change his opinions on the subject. 

You didn't like kids either, except your nephew and niece. They were perfect in your eyes, but maybe you were a bit partial because you sort of shared genes with them. You were so focused on the stories Alec and Izzy were telling you that you didn't notice the eyes that were fixed on you. James looked at you with not only adoration, but also devotion. He knew if he kept looking at you like that, he'd be deep in shit, but it was too late now. 

After dinner, you made your way to the bedroom, only to realize that there was one bed. Fuck. You really should have thought this through. 

Before the embarrassment could seep in, James started collecting a blanket and some pillows. “I'll take the floor,” He said. 

You frowned. “No, James. You've already done so much for me. Take the bed, please.”

James pretended not to hear you and started preparing his bed on the floor. 

“Seriously?” You queried, slightly huffing at his childish behavior. “You're gonna pretend you didn't hear me. How old are you, five?”

Without saying a word, James started humming a tune and situated himself on the makeshift bed on the floor and closed his eyes. 

You stomped your foot furiously, yeah, maybe you were a little childish too. Without muttering another word, you made your way towards the bed and tucked yourself in a comfortable position. 

“You were saying something?” James asked, his voice laced with tease, and you huffed at his tomfoolery. 

“Yeah, just how immature you are.”

“Sorry, I didn't hear that. What was that?” you couldn't see him, but you knew he was doing some theatrical actions by putting his hands on his ears for better listening or furrowing his eyes in feigned confusion. “That I'm so smart? Oh, why, thank you. You're not so bad yourself.”

“That's real mature, James,” you murmured, clearly not enjoying his antics.

A comfortable silence fell in the room. The only thing that could be heard was your breathing and the air conditioner that always sucked in your childhood room but your parents never thought it was a primary concern. Oh, yeah, also, you were staying in your teenage room with your boss. You tried telling your parents that you could get a hotel, but they insisted so now James could see one direction posters on the wall right in front of him.

You would have assumed that he fell asleep if he hadn't broken the silence. “I know it's not my business and you don't have to answer if you don't want to,” he paused, wondering whether he is crossing a line by asking you this. “But why do you let them treat you like that?”

You coughed in surprise, you clearly did not expect him to ask this. You thought maybe he was going to ask you who is your favorite one direction member. Anything really, expect this. “Wow, you do not beat around the bush.”

You could hear him shuffling and once he settled you were sure he was facing you. Well, the bed actually. You did the same, turning towards him. You couldn't see him, but it still felt so intimate.

 “I'm honest with people I trust,” he informed and you smiled, thinking about the time when he told you he did not trust you or your intentions.

“What do I get in return?” you teased, although you would have told him without getting anything in return.

“What do you want?”

You debated for a minute whether you should go forward and just ask him so you did. “What do you do?”

You didn't expect him to actually answer. You knew that your relationship (whatever that was) with James had increased from where it was a few months ago. You deeply cared for each other and had mutual trust in the other. But you still didn't know about the actual work he did. Your realtor told you that he was a criminal, a mobster to be exact, and had sketchy connections with the mafia but you didn't know the exact nature of his work. 

He signed heavily and you were ready to drop the subject, scared that it would only push him away again and you couldn't lose whatever you had this early. 

“We provide weapons to the government at a cheaper price, eliminate problems or shootouts that the government is too scared to take the blame for,” he said, voice unwavering but you could sense the tension. Bucky thought that telling you about his work would make you fear him, and he didn't want to risk losing the progress he made with you, but he also knew that if he wanted you in his life in any form then he has to be honest with you. “We don't do the kind of stuff you're thinking of, it's mostly assisting the government to do stuff where they don't want to get their hands dirty.”

“Why?”

“How would you feel if the leaders of your country were involved in shady business?” It was a rhetorical answer, of course, you would feel unsafe, but your sleep-dazed brain was about to muster up an answer but he quickly spoke. “So if it backfires then they don't lose their men and women and can blame it on us, the criminals.”

“So that's why you weren't scared if I went to the cops? Because you kinda work for them?” you asked. His reaction made a lot of sense now, but some part of your brain hoped that he did that for you. That he would defy the police for you. 

“Off charts yeah,” he answered, “Although that has nothing to do with why I wanted you to go to the cops. I wanted you to because what Rumlow did was unacceptable and he should pay for his actions.”

“Wow,” you didn't know what to say. Anything further could push him back to the 'I don't trust you' James and you couldn't risk that. 

Bucky didn't want to elaborate further, “Your turn.”

“Sir, you just set yourself up for the biggest disappointment,” you joked, already imagining his reaction and smiling to yourself. 

“I let them treat me like this because they are my family,” you replied honestly. “I don't have anyone else but them.”

Bucky knew all about the issues that come with family, but he didn't think you'd be the victim of it. Bucky realized that in his head, he had conjured up a version of you that was perfect, so if he were to know you better, it would decrease his crush on you, right? 

Wrong. The more Bucky got to know you, the more he realized you weren't some angel and were just a vulnerable human like everyone, and the more he wanted you, all of you.

“Where does Rumlow come in this?” you questioned.

“His work is dirty like drugs, sex trafficking so he doesn't work well with government or any sort of authority,” he explained, “He's one of the problems they wanna eliminate but can't because he's too powerful. He works with Hydra.”

“Wasn't Hydra a myth?” you queried. You have heard stories about Hydra too, how Bucky was their rival. You assumed it was about territory or money. You know, like in the movies.

“Nah, doll, it's real. He's part of that organization and that makes him shielded from us and literally everyone.” 

“So you're technically not… you know, killing people for fun like the mafia and all? You're like undercover agents,” you concluded and he shook his head, chuckling at the disappointment in your voice.

In your defense, you expected him to be the movie-type mafia boss who kills people for raising their voice but again, this is not a movie. 

“If it makes you feel better, we smuggle weapons for the government. We're still criminals and dangerous,” he articulated, his tone laced with amusement at your reaction.

 “No offense, but that's a horrible career. Is that what you wanted to do growing up?” you asked, yawning, your eyelids becoming heavy from the exhaustion.

“No,” he answered truthfully. “Not everyone gets a choice, doll. My dad was murdered when I was a kid and I was shoved into the business to protect my family.”

 “Where are they? Your family, I mean,” you inquired, hoping you weren't overstepping.

“Ma basically hates me and my sister maintains her distance, but it's for her own safety.”

You didn't ask about them further, realizing his family was a touchy subject for him. You could relate to that. “What do you want to do?”

Out of all your questions and weird assumptions, this took James by surprise. No one asked him what he wanted to do. Hell, he didn't even ask him that, and now someone finally asked him, he didn't know what to answer. You understood his silence, you always understood everything James felt even without it being voiced. He generally hated when people predicted him, he prided himself on being unpredictable but not with you. James wanted nothing more than to just be Bucky with you.

“Don’t worry, you'll figure something out,” you mumbled, already drifting off to sleep.

James turned towards the opposite side. “Sleep well, doll.” he murmured, his breath growing even, matching yours.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @goodcleanfunsis​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​

[missturtleduck]

Fake dating anon-I think it would be cool if it wasn’t a modern au? But thank you!!!!

Sorry for your wait, anon! I hope you like what I wrote for you <3

Fake It Till You Make It

Sokka x Reader - FakeDating!Trope

Needless to say, Y/N was slightly shocked by Sokka’s proposition.

By the age of sixteen, they had been crucial pai sho tiles in the gambit against the once Fire Lord Ozai. Returning home was odd for many reasons, but notably the reminders that they were still children really, or at least in the eyes of their families. It was Zuko who had suggested a gang trip – a joint life changing field trip – after the nations settled down from Ozai’s defeat.

The first to return home was Y/N. Her mother lived in Fire Fountain City. It was only a short journey away from the capital, and Hakoda had already travelled to see his children at the palace. Sure, she had joked about pushing off her mother’s insistent affection, but she definitely cried a little bit when she got to hug her mum, and even more when her brothers piled on too. Ever the monarchist, Zuko was welcomed into the house with open arms and plenty of celebration. Toph especially got on with her family, rough-housing with Y/N’s brothers like it was nothing.

Since Toph didn’t want to see her parents as of yet, the only family member left to visit was Sokka and Katara’s Gran Gran since Suki’s family were doing work in the Fire Nation anyway. It took some convincing for Toph to put on snow boots – “I’ll risk frostbite if it means seeing, Katara!” – but soon they were travelling all the way to the South Pole. It was on their stop at Kyoshi Island that Sokka had approached Y/N.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

Y/N barked out an incredulous laugh. “Tui and La, what?”

“Exactly what I said,” Sokka nodded, face solemn. “Katara wrote to Gran Gran a couple of times and mentioned Yue and Suki, but you know how that ended.”

“One turned into the moon and the other is a raging Sapphic in a relationship with Ty Lee.”

“Exactly!” He looked distressed, throwing his hands in the air. “And Gran Gran sent a letter back saying how excited she was to meet my girlfriend!”

Frowning in confusion, Y/N looked at him. “You could just tell her what happened.”

“But, Y/N, she was so excited!” He simpered the way a child would, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “Obviously, we’re just friends, but would you do this?”

Ouch. Sure, they were ‘just friends’, but it hurt anyway. Maybe it was the terseness with how he said it, or the fact that since the war had ended all Y/N could think about is how pretty Sokka looked when he could finally relax. Whatever it was, it stung in her chest, panging with the intensity of heartburn. Heartburn seemed a fitting enough description regardless of its denotation.

So that was how she ended up fake dating Sokka, all for the sake of his ego and his gran gran’s happiness. As they travelled over the ocean on Appa’s back, he was as physically far from her as he could possibly be. Ouch, again. For a fake boyfriend, he was doing a crappy job at it. Staring daggers at the back of his head, Y/N sulked quite contently next to Zuko, who seemed to be comfortable with her mood – something about being friends with far grumpier girls. That had made her laugh.

Her laugh had made Sokka stare.

The sharpness to her gaze melted almost immediately when she saw the concern etched on his face. Instead, she beamed at him. Sokka grinned back, turning away to continue his conversation with Suki.

Y/N could feel Zuko’s gaze on her. “I swear to the spirits, Zuko, if you say that’s rough, buddy, I’ll chi block you.”

The crown prince was kind enough to stifle his laughter, though it seemed contagious. Her frown shifted into a small smile and she took to staring over the edge of Appa’s saddle at the canvas of blue beneath them. There was something tranquil about the polar water, the great water beasts breaching the waves only to dive back down into the impossible depths. Being from the Fire Nation, Y/N had never experienced such wonder in a single image – nor such freezing weather. Pulling furs over herself, she readied herself for what would happen on the ice.

Gran Gran looked to be the loveliest but scariest woman she would ever meet. The woman stood as the leader of the tribe; a gaggle of children stood behind her in uncertainty. However, as soon as Sokka hopped off Appa’s back, they were screaming and charging past her to tackle him to the ground. Her heart warmed as they hugged him and cried, shouting at him for leaving them without a warrior in the village.

“What are you seal pups on about?” He snorted, trying to avoid being winded by tiny elbows. “I trained you better than this.”

“That’s enough of that.”

At the woman’s words, the children picked themselves up, leaving Sokka in the snow. He didn’t last long though as he and Katara took their turn in charging. Embracing their grandmother with the tightest hug Y/N had ever seen, she left them to their moment, opting to instead help Toph down from their trusty steed.

“I hate this,” Toph muttered, holding both Zuko and Y/N’s arms in her own death grip.

“I know,” Y/N said softly, “But you’ll be able to take those boots off once we get inside one of the igloos.”

“And this must be Y/N.”

With wide eyes, she pried herself from Toph, trusting Zuko to make sure she didn’t cause any avalanches. Stepping to Sokka’s side, Y/N tried not to startle as he wrapped his arm around her hip. “Sokka, let me meet your grandmother before you steal me away!”

She felt smug satisfaction at how he flushed.

“Let me look at you, dear,” The matriarch ordered, though not unkindly. Presenting herself in the woman, she brushed off the scrutinous stare with a smile. “You’re very beautiful.”

“Thank you, erm- “

“Please,” She beamed, and all Y/N could see was the saccharine threat that Katara often fronted, “Call me Gran Gran.”

As the woman turned away, she swatted Sokka’s arm, meeting his gaze with a scowl. Stalking past him through the snow – which was harder than she had assumed – Y/N was followed by a curious flock of children tugging on her sleeves. Patient as a saint, she laughed with them, answering all of their burning questions.

Why is your hair like that? Why are your clothes red? Is that the same scary man who attacked our village? But he doesn’t look scary. Why is Sokka smiling at you?

Whipping her head around, Y/N met Sokka’s eyes. He was grinning like a dope, chin rested on his palm as Katara talked Gran Gran’s ear off. Somehow, he hadn’t realised that she had caught him staring, but the children soon fixed that; a snowball to the face promptly brought him out of his stupor. Had he hit his head on the way down from Appa? Whatever it was, it made her heart hurt and she had promised Toph a warm igloo anyway.

The sun was beginning to set behind the glaciated mountains on the horizon, illuminating the village in the evening light, dappling the ice with sunspots. She had never seen something so beautiful before, but as the sun disappeared, so did the warmth; the igloo more than made up for it.

As she sat with Zuko, Suki, and Toph – Sokka and Katara obviously busy whilst Aang promised the children some airbending games – Y/N grumbled to herself. Not only was she playing fake girlfriend, but fake girlfriend who was hated by the family. Well, it probably wasn’t hate. She wouldn’t blame Gran Gran for being protective over one of her two grandchildren. In fact, thinking of how her brothers reacted to Sokka, maybe she had it good.

Laid flat on her back, she listened to the gossip of the Fire Nation, of how Ty Lee was doing, and how Toph was seeing some weird stuff under the ice. Whatever it was, it couldn’t spike her interest enough to join in the conversation.

“Y/N?”She barely turned her head to see an anxious looking Sokka in the doorway. 

“Yes?”

He looked around the room at all the faces and fidgeted. “About earlier- “

“Listen, I don’t care, okay, Sokka?” She said, trying her hardest to not seem entirely mean, nor upset; Toph scoffed, muttering something that sounded like liar.

“Just,” He sighed, “Can we talk outside?”

Pulling furs back over herself, she looked pleadingly at her friends to rescue her, but to no avail. Trudging after Sokka, she was growing more and more vexed as they moved further from the village and into the cold. The moon began to rise in the sky, glossing the ice with an ethereal glow, which was perhaps the only nice part about being out in the bitter cold.

“What, Sokka?” Y/N finally huffed, putting her foot down. “Am I not being a convincing enough girlfriend for you?”

“It’s not that Y/N,” Sokka started, waving his hands in a panicked motion as if warning off a polar dog.

“Then what?” She interrupted, not having any of it. “Did you want me to hold your hand? Maybe give you a cuddle?”

He flinched at the venom in her tone. “No, Y/N, if you’d just- “

“Just what?” Y/N snapped. “What you asked of me what really inconsiderate, 

Sokka, but I did it anyway because I'm your friend – just your friend.”

“Spirits, Y/N,” He sighed, realisation passing behind his eyes.

“But it’s fine! I’m a great actress, Sokka, because I wouldn’t be acting. See? I can hold your hand, hug you, even kiss you if you needed it, but it hurts me.”

Looking down at the ice, Sokka kicked some snow under his boot, looking very ashamed of himself for a second. It pierced through her anger in a way that was unfair. Instead of dealing a final blow, all she could think to do was grab his hand and comfort him. Yes, she still felt she was in the right, but Y/N didn’t want one of her closest friends to suffer at her hand, retribution or no.

“Gran Gran shouted at me, y’know,” Sokka said, a small smile quirking at his lips as his eyes fell on his hand in hers.

Y/N frowned. “Why?”

“For thinking she was a ‘dumb old lady’ apparently,” He chuckled, meeting her eyes. “It seemed Aang had let slip that we weren’t actually dating, so she told me off for that.”

“You deserved that,” She grin, bumping his shoulder.

“And then she called me dumb, which I didn’t appreciate.”

His smile said otherwise, so Y/N pushed. “What did you do now?”

“Try to fake something I actually wanted.”

Shocked, Y/N dropped his hand, and for a moment his heart fell heavy in his chest. This was the perfect chance to be with her, he thought, now that the war was over and she knew her family was safe. Now they had autonomy, surely they could focus on each other.

“Y/N, I’m so- “

His apology was cut off by an insistent pair of lips, begging him to be quiet and just enjoy their moment. Deepening the kiss, she looped her arms around the back of his neck, the scruff of his unshaven hair brushing against her arms. His heart was soaring, hers no longer burning but glowing. She pulled back and reaching up to his face, Y/N felt the warmth of his cheek in the bitter cold, radiating warmer than the sun. Whatever light had been taken by the night was captured in them.

“Gran Gran likes you by the way,” Sokka said quietly, leaning his forehead against hers. “Says you wrangle those kids better than I do.”

“Praise Agni,” Y/N gasped, letting out a bated breath she hadn’t realised was stuck. “She does the same scary face Katara does.”

Sokka chucked, rubbing his nose against hers. “Don’t you worry, Y/N. Me and Dad are just as scared by it.”

With a giggle, she rested her head in the crook of his neck, basking in their embrace for as long as she could.

[suhnandmoon]

new friends | neighbor!felix au

description: your new neighbor was definitely someone you wouldn’t have expected. what happens when her brother starts to catch feelings for you?

pairing: felix x reader

genre: neighbor!au, fluff

word count: 3k

inspired by this post

moving into a new apartment is always,, how would you put it?

interesting

take that as you will,,,

sometimes it’s fun !! and exciting !!

your last apartment could’ve been sucky,,

maybe your neighbors were too loud, you had a bad roommate never washed the dishes, or there was a dog that never seemed to shut up

moving out meant you were free from all of that !

other times,,

it’s not as wonderful :(

your landlord could’ve left a bad impression upon first introduction

or you nearly stepped on a spider as you just walked through the door

but let’s escape from the hypotheticals

you needed that fresh start,, you wanted to look at the positive side of things!

you already moved in so set yourself up with a fresh cup of coffee, ready to start the day ahead of you

you were about to get up when you heard a knock on the door followed by an excited giggle.

the voice came from a young child, who you assumed to be a neighbor of yours coming to introduce themselves.

making your way towards the door, you hear the voice speak up,

“excuse me mam? are you our new neighbor? if so, i’m haeun !! ”

you had to laugh

you were a day into your new home and you were already greeted with a cute surprise

you wouldn’t say you adored kids, but they definitely weren’t horrible

as long as they aren’t in big numbers, that is

but that’s a story for another day,,,

opening the front door, you looked down to see the girl, haeun, bouncing up and down in place waiting for you to engage in her conversation

“hi haeun, i’m y/n! how are you doing?”

you crouched down to meet her height, preparing yourself for a longer conversation

kids love to talk.

“i’ve been soooo bored! but now i’m not because you’re now my new friend so i can play with you, right?”

you smiled, it’s endearing that she considers you her friend after meeting you ten seconds ago

“of course! i’d love that!”

“soooooo…..”

…..

….

“do you have a boyfriend?”

what?

you forgot that children don’t have the best attention spans so the conversations might range from their favorite foods to whether or not you have a love life,,

“no-”

“oh! how about a girlfriend?”

“i um- i don’t?”

“wow! you’re so lucky~ all the boys in my class keep asking me to spend recess with them! it’s so tiring, you’re lucky!”

you spent another fifteen minutes talking to her before she skipped back to her apartment humming to a tune she mentioned was her favorite song

you had a feeling that this wasn’t the last time you’d talk to lee haeun

you’re feeling was correct

she showed up the next day

and the next

and the n e x t

not that you were complaining, she was definitely made your day better !!

she showed up one day and she immediately asked you:

“do you have a job?”

“yeah i do! it’s kinda boring,, i don’t think you’d enjoy it”

“i don’t care about jobs but my grandma does! she keeps bugging my brother to get one. he’s sooooo lazy!”

>:(

:/

:)

:D

those were the faces she made right in front of you

“y/n i have an idea !!!!”

“you should be my sister! switch places with my brother, my grandma already loves you!”

it was true

earlier, her grandmother was upset at haeun for sneaking away every morning

once she found out she was with you, she lightened up and invited you inside her apartment

you knew that she was raising haeun and her brother, who you had yet to meet, all by herself

she thanked you for looking after haeun

apparently she’s been talking about you, but their family though you were just her imaginary friend

you thought that was funny

anyways,,, speaking of her brother, you heard him call out for haeun:

“haeun where are you?? you can’t keep sneaking off!”

“gosh felix, don’t me mean !! all you do is sit in front of that tv of yours and play video games! don’t complain about me!”

it’s always interesting to hear sibling’s banter, but you were sort of hoping they didn’t take very long…

you were lucky because felix stomped out into the hallway only to see the two of you seated in front of your door, with you staring up at him

his eyes widened when he realized that there was someone with haeun

especially someone as cute as you

“see look at felix, y/n! he looks like he just woke up, but he’s been awake since four in the morning just to play fortnite with his friends!”

looking at his disheveled hair and pajamas, you giggled along with haeun, even though he didn’t even look bad

is it even possible to look that good without even trying?

how does his hair not look horrible from not even checking it ??

what’s his skincare routing ???

um

that’s not the point

,,,

felix also looked embarrassed

that’s maybe not the best first impression to have with someone you would like to impress,,,

what else had haeun told you about him?

“haeun, i- um,,, grandma wants to ask you a question!”

he blurted as he ushered his sister out, cheeks glowing red

before leaving, he turned to you:

“sorry if haeun starts to bother you, let me know if she is!”

you laughed

w o w

felix thought your laugh was absolutely beautiful that he accidentally stopped paying attention to what you said after that

so he just nodded, smiled, and turned around, hoping that you didn’t think he was a total fool

now let’s fast forward a few months,,

haeun’s daily visits hadn’t stopped ever since you met her

so imagine your surprise when you see felix standing there in place of haeun one day

he was actually dressed up today, you assumed he had to go somewhere important

maybe he had a job interview because haeun always complained about her brother being unemployed

maybe he had a date !!

that’s unrelated let’s not think of that :((

sooo

why is lee felix standing in front of your door today?

“hey y/n, i know this is out of the ordinary, but i wanted to thank you for being friends haeun. i live with her so i know how annoying she can get, but ever since we started living with our grandmother, she hasn’t been her usual self around us. i don’t really want to get detailed but now that you’re here, we can see a big difference in her. thank you for doing this. we really appreciate it”

“also”

“please don’t tell my grandmother or haeun that i said this, they’ll never stop teasing me about it”

….

…

..

you didn’t know what to say

you weren’t aware how much of an effect you had on this little girl’s life

you were touched, you would’ve started to cry if he didn’t add that last part

thank goodness he did, because you didn’t want to cry in front of him

“you looked like you were about to cry?? are you okay?”

HOW DID HE KNOW

….

“no”

“okay good because i don’t know if i would be about to comfort someone when sad...”

“thank you for letting me know, i appreciate it”

you weren’t expecting all of this information to come out of felix of all people

you were touched that you had that effect on haeun

but to hear felix telling you this,,,

lee felix

the boy who you hear stories about him locked up in his room playing games with his friends

the boy who constantly argues with his little sister over who has to fold laundry that day

the boy you barely knew, yet heard so much about from his sister

“it’s fine! i’m sorry for dropping that all on you… i just thought you should know, even though i don’t really talk to you.”

laughing, you realized you haven’t seen his sister today:

“speaking of which, where is haeun? she normally stops over around this time”

“oh !! haeun has the flu, i heard it was spreading around her class… luckily i’m going out of the house for an interview so that’s two hours of me away from her!”

it wasn’t a date !!

why were you so happy?

soooo

he does have an interview!

“hey! what’s so funny? why are you laughing?”

he feigned annoyance, but he was glad that you weren’t sick of him talking to you too much

“it’s just that haeun always complains about you not having a job that i’m surprised you’re actually going for one!”

“she told you whAT”

“nothing~ you don’t want to be late for your interview felix!”

he shouldn’t have been surprised that haeun was telling you this about him honestly

before leaving, he asked you something:

“when i get out of my interview, is it okay if i swing by? i don’t want to risk my sister getting me sick and i realized that we don’t even know each other that well… if it’s okay with you we could um,,, maybe talk more?”

your eyes widened, but you welcomed the idea

“of course! i hope your interview goes well!”

….

you found felix easy to talk to

conversation flowed easily and you two actually shared many interests

he expressed that he enjoyed dancing and showed you a few dance videos he was trying to learn

you were able to get some recommendations on who to watch since you were interested in the art of it

not actually dancing

but you found yourself constantly watching different choreographies, wishing you had that talent

before you knew it, it was already late into the day and felix found himself not wanting to leave

“i think it’s time for me to get going,,, we should do this again sometime?”

“felix you act like we aren’t neighbors, feel free to stop by whenever! your sister already does it!”

and with that, the two of you parted

felix forgot to tell his sister and grandma that he was at your place so when he came back, they were surprised he was away for so long

“felix, do you actually have real friends you’re hanging out with!?”

haeun would’ve jumped up around him if she wasn’t currently laying on the couch since she was sick

“hey! i was just with y/n next door! we were talking about how annoying you are~”

“y/n would never! waiT- Y/N?”

her eyes widened, like she thought of something,,, but she continued with her conversation:

“why were you with y/n, felix?” ;)

“haeun did you forget we’re neighbors? we were just catching up since we haven’t formally met”

“whatever you say~”

for a nine year old, she sure was nosy

and felix was sure she would continue to talk about y/n to him now

after felix left your apartment, you couldn’t help but look forward to your next meeting

he was a charmer

and not at all what you expected him to be

no offence to him

to be fair, you only knew about him from his sister, who seemed to have an obvious slant in her opinion

you hadn’t expected to get along with him that well, you’ve never connected with someone as much before

you couldn’t seem to shake the thought of you two being together

no

he’s your neighbor, you’ll make things awkward if you catch feelings

but then again, how could you not?

you groaned

why is this so hard???

you’ll probably end up pushing these feelings to the back of your mind until you moved on only to have the process repeat with someone else

you go to sleep that night planning on visiting haeun to see if she’s feeling better

and

if you just so happen to run into felix, it would be an extra bonus…

once you woke up, you went to the grocery store to buy ingredients for soup

once that was out of the way, you showed up in front of her apartment

her grandmother (who’s turning into your own grandma, too) opened the door:

“hi y/n! i’m sorry if haeun hasn’t visited lately, she’s terribly sick!”

“oh felix told me! i brought some soup for her so she’d feel better,, do you mind if i see her?”

“of course not! but you didn’t have to do this, honey! but im sure the kids will be excited to see you”

the kids? does that mean she thinks felix would be happy to see you too?

nonono stop that

she probably didn’t mean it that way and you’re overreacted

but what if you’re not?

haha,,,, unless?

so you went inside and found haeun on the couch with blankets piled on top of her looking miserable

the poor girl has been cooped up in the same spot TOO long for someone as energetic as her

“haeun, i came to visit you!”

as soon as she heard you, you could feel the energy in the room shift

“y/n!!! what are you doing here!”

“your brother told me you were sick, so i made you some soup! i missed your visits so we need to get you feeling better!”

she seemed to miss the whole point of what you were telling her when she heard you talk about her brother

“felix told you i was sick???”

she had an innocent smile on her face but you knew

you knew she was going to tease you about felix just from the tone of her voice

and to make things sooooo much easier for you

lee felix himself stepped into the room

you feared this would only fuel her ambitions even more…

were you wrong?

nope

“felix, we were just talking about y/n’s new boyfriend!”

b o y f r i e n d ? ? ?

who does this girl think she is !

looking to felix, you tried to read his expression

how would he react if you hypothetically did have a boyfriend?

just curious !!

you could’ve sworn felix looked upset, but was that just your mind playing games with you again?

“haeun i don’t have a boyfriend! what are you talking about?”

you were trying to shut down this conversation before she kept going with it..

“oh nevermind~ i was just thinking about that time you were telling me about that cute co-worker of yours…”

you most definitely never said anything about a cute coworker,, but before you could protest, felix was already out of the room

“haeun why’d you do that!”

“i just wanted to see how you two would react !”

she said that cheekily and she was lucky she was cute or else she wouldn’t have been able to get away with that…

“anyways,, do you actually have a boyfriend ??”

“no! you don’t need to be worrying about that stuff yet!!”

you were hoping she’d change the subject soon, but even if she did, you knew she would bring it back up later

and that’s exactly what she did

a week after that encounter, she started to visit your doorstep again pushing that topic

all of her questions seemed to be aimed towards felix too

haeun thought she was being subtle, trying to convince you to talk to felix but she was acting the exact opposite of that

felix never heard the end of those questions, too

he honestly felt embarrassed that his sister kept bothering you,, you must be tired of hearing about him

is it going to be awkward between the two of you now?

let’s pray it isn’t

he needed to set the record straight

also,, opening your door to reveal a flustered felix wasn’t something you expected but you’ll take it!

“hey i seem to only visit now because of me telling you something about haeun but i really should apologize. she’s been very set on the idea of the two of us together,, it must be annoying hearing her talk about that 24/7…”

felix wasn’t making eye-contact with you, making the tension rise

you attempted to lighten the mood by laughing, but that only made him look up at you

your laugh trailed off as soon as saw him

could this situation be any worse??

“no, no!! it’s fine,,, she’s just a kid, she’s just looking out for her brother.. even if it’s not in the most predictable way! let’s not make this awkward for us since you don’t even like me,,,”

you tried to not sound disappointed in that last sentence, though you’ve already come to terms that he didn’t feel the same

“i wouldn’t say that,,”

he mumbled the last part so you almost didn’t hear

but you did !!!

“wait,, what did you say?”

were your ears deceiving you? did felix like you or were you starting to turn delusional?

“nothing, sorry y/n i need to leave”

his face was a deep shade of red, but you were too shocked to notice

he swiftly turns around, ready to leave

“felix, get back here! i like you too!!”

he was already halfway to his apartment where he freezes

“huh?”

“i like you back, idiot! i thought it was obvious…”

after saying that, you ran back to him

felix was still surprised from your last statement, but he still slowly took your hands in his

“you actually like me? are you sure haeun didn’t force you into anything??”

you laughed

“felix, how many times do i need to tell you? i really really like you,, if i say it anymore times, i’d be repeating myself”

“i’d be fine with that”

you rolled your eyes, but matched his grin

felix was truly something...

“so, what would you say to a date tomorrow?”

his request made your smile bigger

“i’d love that”

needless to say, a nine year old girl managed to score you a date

something you’d never imagine to happen, but you’re glad it did

walking back to your apartment,, you thought of something

“hey felix?

“yes?”

“so,, do you think we should tell haeun?”

“nah”

[breanime]

Heartworm (Part Eleven)

Look who’s alive! Heartworm is back! And since it’s been SO DAMN LONG since I’ve updated, and you guys have been so patient and cool about it, I’ve got a nice, 7k chapter for you guys here. Fun fact: This was the chapter I’ve been most excited to write...if you’ve been following me for a while, I’m sure you’ll be able to see why...

WARNING: steamy, descriptions of violence

*gif not mine*

The warehouse that Billy took you to was leagues better than the crackhouse he’d been sleeping in. It was spacious; well-equipped with weapons, tech, and security measures, and occupied by a handful of ex-military men.

“What the hell is this?” One of them asked as you walked in behind Billy, eyeing you suspiciously.

“This is Y/N,” Billy said simply, his tone of voice commanding respect effortlessly, “She’s with me.”

The man didn’t look entirely satisfied with that answer, but he didn’t look like he wanted to argue with Billy, either, so he kept quiet.

“Come on,” Billy turned to you, “I’ll show you where we’ll be staying while me and the boys finish putting everything in place.”

You followed him, hand in his, towards a locked room at the back of the warehouse. This was obviously Billy’s room—the only actual room in the entire space—and it had a mattress, a few half-empty duffel bags, and a window. A quick glance into the bags showed they were full of ammo. Billy set your bag on the ground, and you turned towards him. “So I… I just wait here?” You asked.

He nodded. “We’ve got internet, untraceable, of course,” he told you with a slight smile, “You can surf the net.” He walked over to you and placed his hand on your face, fingers lingering on the bruise. “You’ll be safe here. I promise.”

“I know I will be,” you said back, “But… how long do we have to stay?” You asked.

“It depends,” he answered with a sigh, “There’s still some things we gotta iron out before we can do this; I gotta go over the plan with the guys, make sure the route’s clear, make sure the bank’s had their latest shipment of cash… But once this is over, we’re out of here,” he promised, eyes boring into yours, “Me and you, Y/N, just like it was meant to be.”

“Me and you,” you repeated, letting the idea calm you. You trusted Billy, you did, but when you walked in and saw all the other men… There were more guys in his crew than you had thought, and more people usually led to more complications. Before you could let your concerns be known, Billy leaned down and kissed you, effectively rendering you speechless and content.

He was smiling at you when you opened your eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.” He said. “I gotta get back out there and get started,” he kissed your forehead, “If you need anything, just let me know.”

You watched him go, crossing your arms when he shut the door behind you. Not to be shut out, you went over and cracked it open, hearing Billy address his guys.

“Y/N’s gonna stay with us for the next few days,” he told them, his tone leaving no room for argument or questions, “She’s in on what’s happening here, and she’s not to be disturbed.” You couldn’t see him, but you imagined him looking into each and every one of their faces with as he talked, silently challenging any of them to even think about questioning him. “Now, let’s get into position. Jose, Mike, you’re with me. Todd, Geno, behind the counter. Jake’s taking point.”

The men shuffled about, moving to where Billy directed them, and you stood by the door and listened to them go over the routine. Billy made them do it again and again, rearranging the teams and positions so that every man would be able to cover any of the other jobs. You listened for a good two hours before you, invested and impatient, walked out to watch.

Billy was leading three men into the area that you assumed was supposed to represent the bank, and all three of them had their guns drawn. Two of them stood at the side, pretending to be hostages, and three were behind a stack of boxes, probably playing the role of the bankers. The last man was standing off to the side, gun at his hip. You watched as they practiced, arms crossed and taking mental notes. You knew Billy knew you were there, his head had tilted to the right ever so slightly when you’d stepped out of the room, and you knew he was aware of your presence. The guys followed Billy’s every word to a T, moving when he told them to move, adjusting when he told them to adjust, asking questions and seeking clarification from him whenever they needed; he was a natural leader. You’d always known it, you’d seen him lead at Anvil, knew he’d been a great leader in the Marines, but it was always something to see him in action like this. The pride you felt was so strong, you couldn’t keep the smile off of your face as you watched him explain the angles of the security cameras to an entranced Jose.

“Good,” Billy said, straightening up and pushing his mask off of his face. His dark eyes flashed over to you for a second before he turned back to his crew. “Todd, I want you over there,” he pointed with his gun, “as the security guard. He’s an old retired cop, clean record, but he might decide he wants to try being a hero.”

“We need another hostage then,” Todd said, moving to the space Billy had pointed to.

You raised your hand. “I’ll do it.” Billy turned to you, eyebrows raised. You shrugged. “I’ve been watching you guys long enough, and I was listening the last couple of hours, anyway,” you confessed easily.

Billy eyed you with a mixture of surprise, affection, and amusement in his eyes before nodded his assent. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, “Y/N’ll be the other hostage.”

You practiced with the guys for the next three hours, and you started to like them. They were all ex-Marines, though none of them had ever reached the levels Billy had during their time serving. Jose, you learned, had a wicked sense of humor and was even able to make Billy crack a smile as you practice. Jake was clearly Billy’s favorite, and you could tell that the other man looked to your boyfriend. Billy, to your surprise, encouraged you to switch up your role, and moved you from hostage, to bank teller, to look-out. He’d even supplied you with a gun, placing it into your hand himself before going back to directing the crew. The guys had been doing well when this rehearsal had started, but even you—a civilian—could tell that their methods and procedure had improved greatly over the last few hours, and that Billy was training them to be an unstoppable force.

You were playing the role of the look-out when you heard a door slam. You, Billy, and the Marines, all turned at once, guns drawn.

“Yo, yo!” A man walked through the door, voice cheerful. “How we doing?”

“Bobby,” you heard Billy mutter from behind you. He walked towards this Bobby, passing you with a small frown on his face. “We’re gettin’ there. All good with you?”

“Yeah. Schedule’s same as always. 9 am tomorrow, 300 grand. That chicken’s gonna be ripe for plucking.” He and Billy stood in front of each other, and you frowned when you noticed what he was wearing: a uniform. If anyone saw him come in with that, it would be so easy to track him down. One simple description of his outfit could bring this whole operation down, could cause everyone to lose it all—it could cause you to lose Billy.

It seemed that Billy had the same thought as you did, and you and the vets all gathered behind him as he looked at Bobby. “Planning on wearing that uniform?” Billy asked, voice casual as he looked to the side, his shoulders tense.

Bobby scoffed. “Yeah, Billy, I’m that dumb.” He blinked, eyes landing on you. “Who’s the broad?”

You could feel the tension mount in the room. Billy narrowed his eyes at Bobby. “This is Y/N,” he said slowly, clearly, “She’s with me.”

“Uh huh,” Bobby sounded unimpressed, “so are we all allowed to bring our girls here or just you, jarhead?”

“She’s cool,” Jake said, speaking up before Billy could, “Don’t worry about it, Bobby.”

“Yeah,” Jose added, “She’s been helping us prep while you’ve been on your 9 to 5.”

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Bobby said back.

“Dressed in your easily-identifiable uniform,” you muttered.

Bobby glared at you, and Billy took a step up, blocking you from his view. “You took a risk wearing that here,” he said. His voice was controlled, but you knew he was starting to get angry.

“I took a risk offering this job up to all you jabronis,” Bobby said back, unrepentant, he moved to the side so that he could see you behind Billy, “and the pretty civilian, I guess. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be hitting some grocery store for chump change.”

Billy smirked. “Let’s go again,” he said, voice loud in the open space of the warehouse. “Bobby, you joining us?”

Now it was Bobby’s turn to smirk. “Can’t let you jarheads have all the fun.”

Billy turned, giving out orders. “…and Bobby, you take the waiting area.”

Everyone—including you—moved to your assigned position except for Bobby. “Waiting area,” he asked, annoyed, “That’s bullshit. I’m coming in with you. What’s the point?”

“The point is,” you spoke up, “everyone knows each other’s job and positions. In case anything goes wrong, everyone will be able to adapt and things can still go as planned.”

Bobby glanced over at Billy, who was smiling over at you, pleased with your response. Bobby turned back to you with a smile that was anything but friendly. “Pretty and smart,” he said, chuckling as he moved into position, “I like that.” He glanced over at Billy again, smirking. “Too bad you’re with Russo.”

You elected to ignore him and went over to the area for the hostages, where Billy had told you to be. You watched as Billy went through the drill, heart pounding as he shouted out: “Everybody get down! I wanna see some hands!” You pictured them doing this for real, without you, with real risk and real rewards. You watched, feeling the worry creep up into you, as Billy pretended to hit one of the guys and moved forward towards the fake counter. When they did this for real, they would be up against anything—who knew how dedicated the guard would turn out to be? Or how pliable the customers would end up being? What if one of the guys messed up, or got hurt? What if someone ratted on Billy? What if someone called the cops while they were still there? What if Brett got the call and he and Billy came face to face?

What if Frank was there?

Your anxious musings were interrupted by the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and you looked up to see Bobby flat on his back on the floor with Billy standing over him.

“Shit, Billy,” Jake said, taking his mask off and looking down at Bobby, who was groaning as he sat up.

“What are you doing?” Todd asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

“Bobby’s smart,” Billy said calmly, his voice clear even through his mask, “Keeping us on our toes. There could be a bunch of vets in there waiting to cash their checks.” He flipped his mask up, his eyes immediately going to you before looking back at his crew. “Anyone could decide to play here.” He looked down at Bobby. “Ain’t that right?” Bobby took his mask off, and there was blood trickling down his face. Billy continued talking, undisturbed by Bobby’s injuries. “So we gotta get control fast,” he went on, “then we gotta keep it.” He held his hand out to Bobby. “You alright?”

Bobby swatted Billy’s hand away and struggled up on his own. “You hit like a Marine,” he said, breathing hard.

Billy smirked, and you felt yourself grow warm at the look on his scarred face. “Yeah, I do.”

Later that night, you laid in bed with Billy’s arms around you. The guys were camping out in the warehouse; Billy had declared that they all had to stay there until the job was done, and no one was going to question his authority. You had your head on Billy’s chest, and even though you were both fully dressed (both for the sake of common decency, and because the warehouse got cold as shit at night), it was still so intimate that you almost felt guilty for enjoying it. Billy and his crew were going to commit a crime, take money that didn’t belong to them, maybe even hurt a few people and you… You were okay with that. The money—a whopping 300 grand—meant next to nothing to you, it was Billy that was your priority. You would do anything to be with him, and if that meant being okay with this job, with robbing a bank, then that was what you would do. Billy’s chest moved up and down as he held you, breathing softly, with one hand on your back. Your hand was under his shirt, resting over his heart, right where it belonged. His mouth was on the top of your head, in your hair, and his voice was muffled when he spoke.

“’M worried about Jake. Bobby, too,” he said, his fingers twitching on your back.

“Bobby’s kind of an ass,” you said, “but he seems reliable enough to get the job done. Why are you worried about Jake?”

“He’s off,” Billy reported, “When I was out there, making sure the guys were good, he was shivering, wanted to go home…”

“It’s cold in here,” you said, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“He’s feening,” Billy said, disgust clear in his voice, “I wasn’t sure before, but I am now. He’s an addict. That makes him weak.”

“And weakness makes him a liability?” You asked, knowing the answer.

Billy looked down at you, his dark eyes meeting yours. “When it comes to this? Our plans? You?” He shook his head. “Us? It absolutely is. He messes this up for us, he puts you in danger, and I’ll pull the trigger on him myself.” He watched you closely, looking, you thought, for a sign of distress or shock or disgust from you at his words. He didn’t find it, and he never would.

“I can’t wait for this to be over,” you confessed, “I just want you to be safe, away from all of this shit…”

“I know,” he kissed your forehead. “And we will be. I promise. We’re gonna do this job, get the cash, and you and me are getting out of here.”

“What about Frank?” You asked. You couldn’t help yourself; Frank wasn’t even in town yet, but he was your biggest obstacle.

“I’ll deal with Frank,” Billy said, “Whatever happens between me and him, you’ll be taken care of.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of,” you said back, sitting back, “I want to be with you. This, all of this, isn’t worth shit to me if I don’t have you.”

Billy smiled and pulled you back to him, kissing you softly. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips, “and I’m gonna take care of you.”

“I love you, too,” you said back, eyes still closed as he kissed you again, “I love you so much.”

You woke up in Billy’s arms for the next four days. He’d kiss you good morning, holding you close to him, and you would have to fight every urge in your body to pounce on him. Instead, you’d get up with him, greet the guys, have breakfast, and watch them practice for the heist. Sometimes they asked you to play a customer, and you would, but other times you would just watch. In between these rehearsals, you’d asked Billy to help you re-familiarize yourself with self-defense techniques. So he always made time to train you, helping you get the proper footing, teaching you the best way to throw a punch, helping you learn how to use a knife to your advantage—critiquing your work the other day with the Chucks, and some of the guys even joined in, helping you practice with opponents of varying sizes. They were always careful with you, knowing good and well that Billy was always watching, and that there’d be…consequences if they really hurt you, but really, it was all in good fun. You didn’t ask for any training on day five, the day before the job. Instead, you stood on the sidelines, watching the guys and offering your observations.

Billy turned to you after their last go-through, pushing his mask off of his face. “How was that, Y/N?” He asked.

“Great!” You said back. The guys all laughed, high fiving each other and looking quite pleased with themselves. You were, as it turned, out, a tough critic. “Everyone was on cue, all exit points were covered, and everything was perfectly timed.”

“I don’t know how we’re gonna do this without you tomorrow,” Jose said, grinning, “We’re all so used to you, it’ll be weird not having you with us.”

Billy came to stand beside you, smiling over at you proudly. “She’ll be here waiting for us when we get back.”

“Yeah, about that,” Bobby said, voice unnecessarily loud, “Who’s gonna watch her while we’re out?”

“Watch me?” You repeated. “Why would anyone need to watch me?”

“You know,” Bobby said, taking a step towards you, then stopping when he saw Billy’s face, “Just to be safe, make sure you’re not tempted to make any calls or—”

“—Bobby, shut up,” Jake hissed, holding himself as he shivered.

“Y/N’s one of us,” Jose added, and Todd nodded behind him, “She’s in on it just like we are.”

“That reminds me, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Bobby went on, “Is she getting a cut of this too? We payin’ her some kind of hush money fee?”

“Don’t worry about what she’s getting or what she’s doing,” Billy said, voice low and dangerous, “It’s none of your concern.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I mean, we’re all putting our lives on the line here, and we’re all getting an equal cut, except you, of course, since you’re running it,” Bobby kept going, as bold as always, “But what about your pretty little girlfriend here? She gettin’ a cut? We makin’ adjustments for her?”

Billy walked over to Bobby with his shoulders squared. He moved quickly, his footsteps barely even making a sound on the concrete floor. He stopped in front of Bobby, and Bobby straightened up, probably—hopefully—remembering the last time he tried to stand up to Billy. “I’m only gonna say this one last time,” Billy said, addressing the room, but staring at Bobby, “Y/N is with me, and she’s on our side. That’s all anybody needs to know.” He turned, voice a little louder now. “Anyone else have something to say about Y/N being here?” He was met with silence. He turned back to Bobby, dark eyes glaring. “We good?”

Bobby nodded. “Yeah, man, yeah. We’re good.” He took a step back. “I’m not worried about Y/N…” He glanced over at you before looking back at Billy. “…I’m worried about Jake.”

All eyes turned to Jake, and you had to admit—he didn’t look too good. His skin was greasy and pale, and he was shivering and shaking. He glared back at the rest of you. “I’m fine. It’s just freezing in here.”

“Right,” Billy said slowly, eyeing him up and down. “We should all get some rest. We’ve got a long day ahead of us, and we want to be sharp.” He held his hand out for you, and you took it. “See you in the morning,” he said. The men practically scurried to their sleeping areas, even Bobby, and you knew that things would go smoothly tomorrow…

…except Jake shuffled to bed, and even when he got into his sleeping bag and pulled the covers over himself, he was still shaking.

You let Billy lead you to your room and sat down on the bed as he locked the door and put his mask and gun away. “Is Jake gonna be okay?” You asked.

Billy sighed, stripping his shirt off. “He’s gonna have to be,” he said, “After tomorrow, he can check himself into a top-notch rehab or buy his weight in smack, it doesn’t matter to me.” He was taking his pants off now. “We’ll be long gone by then.”

He crawled onto the mattress, and you opened your arms and hugged him to you. “I can’t wait,” you said.

Billy kissed you, pushing you down onto the mattress, his weight and warmth bearing down on you comfortably. You melted under his touch, and you felt Billy growing hard through his boxers. His tongue was in your mouth, one hand was already in your panties, and the other was on your neck, moving your head this way and that in order to deepen the kiss. “Tomorrow, we’ll have enough cash to get out of here,” he said, his mouth moving down to your neck, “We can start our lives together.” He slipped a finger inside of you, and you gasped, eyes closed, at the sensation. His mouth was wet and warm on your flesh, and you sighed when he lowered his head even more and started to kiss your breasts, pushing your shirt up to give himself access to your soft chest.

You put a hand in his hair, still not entirely used to its shortness. “Billy,” you sighed out, “Are you sure we should be doing this? The guys…”

“They’re occupied,” he said against your flesh, “They won’t bother us. Besides,” he lifted his head, and his dark eyes were shimmering with affection and desire for you, “I need to feel you,” he pushed another finger inside of you, and he smiled when you moaned, “Baby, you feel so good… Do you know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off of you? I just got you back, and I haven’t been able to touch you in days.” He kissed you again, long and hard this time, making your toes curl from the force of it. You could feel his love in that kiss, could feel how much he wanted you, and you hoped he could feel your desire as well. “You know,” his mouth was on your neck now, “since I’ve been sleeping with you, I haven’t had any nightmares…” He kissed your collarbone before pulling back and looking at you again. “This is how it could have been,” he mused, “Me and you, if I hadn’t fucked it all up.”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him back down to you. “What could have been doesn’t matter,” you said, kissing his nose sweetly, “What matters is that we’re here, together, now, and always.”

Billy smiled, and it was like that smile was so bright and beautiful that it erased the scars on his face, making him look like the same old Billy to you; your Billy. He leaned in closer and kissed you before he spoke. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, baby.”

Billy stripped you, kissing each piece of exposed flesh before moving onto the next article of clothing. Once you were naked, he took off his boxers and threw the covers over the two of you, smiling down at you. You kissed him, rolling your hips below him, and were rewarded with his pleased groan at the feeling. “Billy,” you whispered, “please…”

He knew what your short plea meant, and he kissed you once more before crawling down your body, kissing and sucking along the way, until he settled down between your legs. You closed your eyes and let your head fall back as Billy licked into you, his warm tongue exploring your folds with gusto. You thought you heard him groan out your name, but you were distracted when he added two fingers to his ministrations, curling them in time with his tongue as he licked, kissed, and sucked your most intimate parts. Your legs threatened to crush his head, but he wasn’t deterred. You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle your growing moans, and Billy rewarded you for your consideration by making you cum, your legs shaking around his head as he lapped it up eagerly, not even taking a moment to slow down—let alone stop.

When you finally came back down and opened your eyes again, Billy was sliding a condom on, and you bit your lip in anticipation. He grinned when he looked up at you, as eager and excited to be with you as you were to be with him. He leaned over you, kissing you slowly, and you sighed into his mouth. He was so close to you, his body on top of yours, his lips on yours, but you wanted—needed—him closer. As if he could read your mind, he slid into you, obliging your silent request with his lips still on yours, silencing your moans of pleasure. Billy felt exquisite, and you rolled your hips, adding pressure to the feel of him inside of you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, dropping his mouth to your ear, “You’re incredible. Baby, you feel so good.”

“Billy,” you sighed, “oh my God, please don’t stop.” You weren’t sure if it was the fact that you hadn’t had sex with him in nearly a week, or the pressure and tension of your life as fugitives, or the fact that he would be going on a dangerous mission in the morning, but you felt especially sensitive as Billy rocked against you, every movement making you tremble with pleasure, every kiss making you float with desire, and every touch making your flesh burn. “I’m cumming,” you gasped out, “Baby, I’m cumming!”

Billy pushed his hips into yours further, grinning down at you. “Cum,” he said, breathing heavily as he increased the pace, hips slamming into yours, “But look at me. Open your eyes and look at me, baby.” You did. He was staring down at you with those damn dark eyes, a look on his face that was so heavenly and sweet you were sure you were staring up at an angel, or a very beautiful demon, scars and all. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Billy,” you said, meaning it with every single part of your body, every bit of your soul, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he groaned, placing a hand on the side of your face.

You closed your eyes then, too keyed up to keep them open, and felt your stomach tighten as your climax got closer. You pulled Billy down further, kissing him so that he could swallow your impending cries. You came, body shaking with pleasure, and Billy continued to fuck into you until he came too, mouth on yours.

Billy dressed you, kissing you softly, and crawled back into bed, holding you to him. “This is gonna be our last night holed up in a place like this,” he said, voice low and soothing, making your eyes droop, “After tomorrow, we’ll be on our way to safety. Immunity.” He kissed your forehead. “We’ll get a nice place on the beach somewhere, and I’ll wake you up with kisses every morning, and go to sleep still inside of you every night.”

“You better come back to me,” you said, eyes closed, “After tomorrow, when it’s all done, you’d better come back, Billy. I can’t be alone again.”

“I know. You won’t be. I’m coming back, baby,” he assured you, mouth on your forehead, “I’ll never leave you again.”

Billy was gone when you woke up the next morning, and you got dressed quickly, hoping you didn’t miss them before they headed out to the bank. You walked out into the warehouse to see the three cars ready to go, and Billy standing with the guys. Except…

“Where’s Jake?” You asked, looking around the empty space.

“Jake split,” Billy said, “Snuck out last night.”

“Did he go to the cops?” You asked, thinking of Brett.

“Nah, he went to score,” Billy shook his head. “I thought he could hold out for another 24 hours…” He turned to address the guys. “This is why we practiced, so when things like this happen, it doesn’t slow us down. This is why we build contingences into our plans. Mike, you’re off the bench.”

Mike popped up, eager to be a part of the robbery. “I can help, too,” you spoke up. Billy turned to you, frowning. “I know all the plans and roles, and it’s better with a full crew.”

“No,” Billy said, “You stay here where it’s safe.”

“She makes a good point, Billy,” Jose said, glancing at the others for support, “Y/N could take Mike’s spot-on point.”

“She’d still be safe,” Todd added, “she would just fill up a bag and get back in the car. She’d barely be in the bank for more than 3 minutes.”

“She can get Jake’s cut,” Bobby said, surprisingly generous, “We need a full deck on this one, Billy.”

Billy glanced at you, and you could see he wasn’t happy with where this was going. “Fine,” he growled out. “Y/N, you ride with me.” You grinned, grabbing Jake’s left behind mask and bag, and walked over to the black van Billy would be in. He grabbed your arm as you opened the car door. “Stay close to me,” he told you.

You nodded. “I will. I promise.”

The ride to the bank was silent. The crew was riding in three cars, and each car had a radio for communication, but there was nothing to be said. Billy pulled down his mask once you were a block away from the bank, and then turned to put yours on for you. “Anything happens, it gets too heated or the cops show up or something goes wrong,” he told you, “I want you to run. If I don’t come and get you by tonight, then I want you to go back to the warehouse, take the money I have stored away, and get out of town, okay?” You nodded. “If we get caught up or arrested, you tell them you’re a hostage and I made you do it.” You could hear the strain in his voice. “Call your detective friend and tell him I kidnapped you and forced you to be a part of this.”

“Billy—”

“—Promise me,” he ordered.

You took a breath. “I promise.”

Your heart was hammering by the time you pulled up to the bank, and you jumped out behind Billy, rushing into the small bank. The security guard was sitting by the door—just like Billy said he’d be, and he stood up, shouting “hey” when Billy led you in. Without wasting a second, Billy cracked the guard in the face with his gun before pointing it in front of him.

“Get your hands up!” He screamed over the shocked cries of the people in the bank. “I wanna see hands!” Bobby ran past Billy into his position in front of the counter, and you stood between the door—in front of Todd—and behind Billy. “Everybody stay cool,” Billy said, advancing on the counter, “Nice and cool…” He regarded the customers; they had their hands up, clearly terrified. “That’s it… Move!” He barked.

The customers scattered, and Mike moved to zipties their hands as you pointed a gun at them, making them gather in the corner. Your back was to Billy, and you heard his cool, commanding voice say “you there, move away from the counter.” You glanced back to see the two bank tellers behind the window, one with her hands up, and the other staring at Billy with wide eyes. “Move back!” Billy screamed, making both of them jump and shuffle backwards. You glanced back down at the customers who were kneeling down on the ground, tied up and crying, before turning back to watch Billy. “That’s it…” Billy said. “Everybody stay ice cool…and nobody dies today,” he lowered his gun, but that didn’t make him look any less intimidating. He pointed at the older woman behind the glass, a strangely commanding figure herself. “You, manager, come here.” The woman moved in front of her employees, glaring at Billy. You liked that. She was the only person in the room who wasn’t shaking in her boots.

Billy must have liked it, too, because he walked up to the counter and leaned on it casually. “Now what is your name?” He asked, interested.

She squared her shoulders, and your admiration for this woman grew. “Lillian,” she answered proudly.

You could hear the smirk in Billy’s voice as he spoke. “Well, Lillian, I’m gonna need you to move towards whatever button you gotta push,” he pointed to the side with his gun, “to open that door over there. You understand me?”

Lillian nodded. “Perfectly. But I’m not going to do it.”

You froze. Oh shit.

There was a pause, and you knew everyone in the bank—from the terrified customers, to the threatened bank tellers, to the crew in their masks—was holding their breath.

“You’re not… You’re not gonna do it?” Billy asked, and you pictured him blinking rapidly under his mask. She shook her head, completely at ease. Billy stepped back from the counter. “You’re not gonna do it,” he repeated, “I am telling you to!”

“That door won’t open,” Lillian said, raising her voice to match Billy’s.

Billy sighed, placing both hands (one with a gun in it) on the counter. “Lillian, why’re you doing this? Hmm?” He asked.

“It’s on a timer.”

“There’s not one person in this entire place who believes that door is on a timer,” Billy said back. Bobby was watching the exchange closely, nervously turning his head from Billy, to Lillian, and back again. “So trust me when I tell you that today is not the day to do this.” He punctuated his words by tapping the gun on the glass. The other two tellers jumped at the action, but Lillian didn’t seem affected. She was, by all definitions, a bad bitch. “So give some thought to why you wanna see tomorrow,” he went on, his voice menacing and low, “and open the damn door.”

“This is a family business,” Lillian smiled, “My daddy fought a world war, built this place from nothing. He’d turn over in his grave,” she said, and Billy turned around, rolling his shoulders the way he did when he was agitated, “if I would let you all just walk in here and take whatever you want.”

Billy was looking at you, it was a little hard to tell with the mask, but you could feel his gaze on you, hot and steady. You didn’t know how well he could see your eyes through your mask and his, but you hoped he could see that you believed in him, that you weren’t afraid because you were with Billy, and he’d said he’d take care of you. Billy nodded, glancing over at Bobby before reaching into his coat pocket. “Okay,” he said lowly, almost to himself. He pulled out a hand grenade, and your eyes widened. Where the hell did he get that from?! “Does everybody know what this is?” He asked loudly, addressing the room. “Yes! That’s right,” he pointed over at Lillian, waving the grenade in the air as if it were a piece of candy and not a deadly, highly dangerous weapon that one probably shouldn’t be carrying so casually in one’s pocket, “It’s a grenade! An M67 fragmentation grenade.” He inclined his head towards Bobby. “You wouldn’t believe how many of these the US Army is missing.”

“Lillian, please,” the man behind the counter begged, “just open the door.”

“I won’t.”

“It’s all insured, anyway!”

“That’s not the point,” she said, annoyed.

“Lillian,” Billy said, humming her name, “you’re makin’ me kind of nervous. Your behavior it’s… it’s erratic, it’s… it’s irrational. Like you could do anything, at any time, without reason.” He raised his voice. “Anyone else gettin’ that same vibe off of Lillian, or is it just me?”

“She a crazy old bitch,” Bobby spit out.

Billy held his gun out, pointing at Bobby in agreeance. “Well, I don’t have time for crazy, Lillian. So I’m gonna give you till the count of three, and then I’m gonna shove this,” he held out the grenade again, and almost everyone, save you, Billy, and Lillian flinched at the sight of it, “through that little slot on the counter right in front of you. And then you will all really be on a timer.”

“It won’t fit, dumbass,” Lillian said back, almost making you let out a nervous laugh, “It’s designed that way. So I’ll just take my chances.” She put her arms up in an easy shrug. “You clowns are not gonna rob my joint, so just take your little sorry asses all up outta here.”

Billy raised his gun as she spoke, pointing it at the glass, and you sucked in a breath. You didn’t want anyone to get hurt going into this, and now you really didn’t want anyone to get hurt. Lillian’s courage was impressive, and you wanted her to see another day. But before Billy could say or do anything, the man behind the counter pushed Lillian aside and pressed the button to open the door, ignoring her protests.

“Get in there!” Billy yelled. “Right now!”

You ran in after Bobby, and you felt Billy’s dark eyes on your back. Bobby made everyone line up on the wall behind the counter, customers included, as Billy came in and instructed them to put their hands together, his voice calm and almost friendly now that the door was open. Billy went around zip-tying everyone’s hands together while you, Bobby, and Mike started grabbing the cash and stuffing it into bags.

You heard Billy moving behind you, calmly talking to the customers and tellers. “Nice and calm,” he said soothingly, “nice and easy.” You could tell then that he wasn’t going to hurt them—any of them, and you felt a part of you relax. Once your bag was full, you moved to the side to make room for Bobby to run past you and into the safe room and turned to watch Billy. He was standing in front of Lillian, and she glared up at him. “Hands,” he said, and you could hear a playfulness in his voice, making you roll your eyes and smile behind your mask.

“We’re done!” Mike reported, standing across from you, bag slung over his shoulder and gun pointed at the helpless civilians.

Billy moved back, strutting around the small space with confidence and ease in the tense situation. “Thank you all for your cooperation,” he announced, “Lillian, you’re a crazy old bird, but I think I like you.” Lillian scowled. “Now, if it weren’t for this guy,” Billy pointed at the man who’d pressed the button and opened the door, “you would all be dead. So the next time you see him, do the right thing. Make him employee of the month or something.” Calmly, Billy raised his gun and pointed it at the man’s face.

“No! Wait! No! NO!” The man screamed. Lillian and the others made similar noises of concern and protest, and you swallowed. This was all a part of the plan. Everything would be fine.

“You’re coming with us,” Billy said.

Bobby grabbed the guy by the back of the neck and pushed him out of the building. You, Mike, and Billy followed. You turned back and gave Lillian a goodbye wave, and you heard Billy chuckle beside you. Mike and Bobby shoved the guy into the van, and you were about to get in when you heard Billy scoff.

“Look at this,” he said. You turned and saw Jake’s red mask and army jacket. The asshole showed up after all—probably high.

“RUSSO!” You froze. That wasn’t Jake’s voice. You knew that voice. You hadn’t heard it in years, but you knew that voice…

“You’re late, you son of a bitch!” Billy screamed, not at all worried that he’d said his name out loud, and clearly not realizing that the man he was talking to wasn’t Jake.

“Billy,” you said softly, your voice coming out as a whisper. Your body was stuck, your heart was pounding, you didn’t know what to do. “Billy,” you tried again, but your voice wasn’t loud enough. Billy was right in front of you, but he couldn’t hear you.

“Get out of here, Jake. Right now!” Billy said, moving in front of the car.

“Billy, no,” your mouth was dry, your tongue felt like it was made of lead.

Frank was walking towards you all now, his gait determined. “Russo!” He called again.

“Billy,” you said, voice shaking, “It’s Frank.”

Billy had been turning, about to get in the car, but stopped. You didn’t know if he’d heard you, or if he’d finally recognized Frank’s voice, but you saw the change in him. He froze for a second, and in that second, it was like there were only three people on the street: you, Billy, and Frank. You and Billy watched, connected in your silent panic, as Frank ripped the mask and jacket off. He was wearing his bloody punisher vest, and you felt tears in your eyes. No, no, no. This was all wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be here, you were supposed to escape, get out of town, before Frank even came back—this was all wrong. You looked at Billy, who for some reason didn’t get in the car. Instead, he walked towards Frank, breathing heavily.

“Billy, let’s go!” Mike yelled.

“Come on!” Todd called from his place in the driver’s seat.

Even Bobby was scurrying away, and you heard the revving of an engine somewhere close by. But Billy was in his world, staring at Frank, his chest heaving with how hard he was breathing.

“You should have stayed in your whole, Bill,” Frank said, and your blood ran cold.

Someone screamed, and one of the guys yelled “take him down!” before you heard bullets in the air. You slammed yourself against the side of the car, peeking over it to check on Billy. He hadn’t moved, he was still in the street facing Frank. You watched him take his mask off, and you could see his face from where you were. His eyes were wide and broken, his mouth hanging open as he panted, eyes fixated on Frank. Frank, for his part, had jumped behind a parked car and started shooting. Mike ran up beside Billy, trying to grab him to take him away, but Frank shot him down, and you jumped as you watched him fall to the ground. Geno hit the gas and drove towards Frank, trying to run him down, but Frank shot him in the chest, and the car hit another, crashing into the side of the street as Bobby jumped out of the car with a semi, shooting at Frank with bullets so loud, your ears popped.

“Y/N,” Todd cried, “Get Billy! We have to go! Now!”

You ran out, heedless of the bullets flying in the air, and nearly tackled Billy. “Billy, we have to go!” You said, hands on his shoulders. “Come on!”

Billy blinked, looking down at you with wide, wet eyes. He shook his head quickly, getting himself out of his trance, and grabbed your hand, pulling you away and pushing you into the car before getting in with you.

You looked passed him and saw Frank jump into a car. “He’s right behind us!” You shouted, turning to Billy.

Billy’s eyes were unblinking as he stared straight ahead. His breathing was labored, and you could see that he was on the edge of a panic attack.

“Billy?” You called, putting your hands on his chest. “Billy, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he just started blinking—hard—and his whole body twitched as if the simple action hurt him. You called him name again and again, trying to get his attention, trying to bring him back.

But you knew he was too far gone. And what was worse...

...You weren’t sure if even you could get him to come back. 

*******************************************************************************************

LILLIAN!!!!! Do you know how hard it was not for me to type in “Billian” whenever I wrote her name? Do you know how hard it was not to make this into a really weird OT3 situation?! Haha--I love that crazy old bird. Let me know what you thought of this, please! I’m excited to be writing this one again!

Taglist: @lexxierave @loveintheroyalfamily @suchatinyinfinity@fanfictionrecommendations-com  @maxslime-blog @elanor-of-imladris@songforhema @lucielandss @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @themadhatter92@realduckvader @the-blind-assassin-12 @christinawxxx @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @luminex3 @littlemermaidprobz @ashkuuuu@luckysstrikes @carlaangel86 @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso@teacuplotus @iaintnofurry @thesumofmychoices @ymariejp @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan @whovianayesha @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli @stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @bellamys @marauderskeeper @charlylama @thesandbeneathmytoes @gollyderek @leahnicole1219 @evanlys19​ @something-tofightfor @banditthewriter  @binbons-is-theloml @honeyydippaa  @thebabblingbookworm @khuangpu13 @ladyblablabla

Heartworm Taglist: @songforhema @kind-wolf  @billrvsso @lysawayne @wickidlady @traeumerinwitzhelden

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The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 24

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Tuesday, cont’d

Malcolm drove them into town in the yellow roadster, flying down the road with the top down.  Wind whipped her hair, and she held tightly to the seatbelt.  She trusted his driving, she did, but… when they finally pulled (squealed) into a spot behind the local inn, she felt like falling to the ground and kissing it.

Resisting the urge, she merely stepped out and straightened the hem of her sweater dress.

“Hungry?” her husband asked, appearing at her side and offering her his hand.  “Or want to walk around first?”

“Let’s walk around,” she decided.  “See what our options are.”

He nodded, whistling cheerily as they set off.  He provided a running commentary the length of the main street commercial area, a combination of local and personal history.  They stopped in most of the shops, and roughly half the owners knew Malcolm by name, if not at first glance.  It amused her that the longer he talked, the thicker his accent grew, as it had steadily been doing since their plane left Heathrow.  She stayed silent mostly, other than pleasant greetings, letting him do the majority of the chatting.  It was nice, getting to see this different side of him- she liked it.

“Well, that’s it for main street,” he finally sighed, as they stopped at an intersection.  On the other side of the street were more residential-looking buildings, quaint and exactly as she’d pictured for rural Scotland- they were something off a postcard.  “Did you see anywhere for lunch?”

“What about that cute café-slash-newspaper office?”

Malcolm considered it, looking back towards where it was, before shrugging.  “Whatever the lady wants,” he said gallantly.  “Lead the way.”

-

They stepped inside, finding a cute little café/bakery.  A dozen or so tables were arranged in rows starting at the window, leaving plenty of walking space between them and the counter.  Clear cases showed off delicious-looking food; one contained baked goods, the other small meat pies, sandwiches, and the like.

“This looks good,” Malcolm approved, grinning at her, and she beamed back.

“It all smells incredible- any suggestions?”

Before he could answer a woman came out from the back to greet them, eyes going wide at the sight of Malcolm.  “Malcolm Tucker, as I live and breathe.”

Head jerking up, he blinked several times in rapid succession, jaw falling open.  “Sarah!”

The woman hurried out from behind the counter, and to Rose’s astonishment, he hugged her in greeting.  Since when does Malcolm hug?!  With the exception of his daughter, and occasionally Rose, she’d never seen him hug another person – until now.  Especially not as tightly as he was holding this woman.

Something distinctly like jealousy roared in Rose’s chest, and lips pressing together tightly, she tucked her hair behind her ear and waited.  The woman, Sarah, was around Malcolm’s age, slim and dark-haired with a kind face.  A very pretty kind face.

Finally they broke apart, and Malcolm kept one arm around the woman’s waist as he turned to Rose.  “Sweetheart, come here,” he invited her closer, and she stepped tentatively.  “This is Sarah Jane Smith, a friend of mine from uni.  I had no idea you were in Scotland, let alone so close to Gallifrey,” he directed at the woman.  “Sarah, this is-”

“Oh, you must be Clara,” she cut him off, gushing, opening her arms to Rose for a hug.  “Oh, I remember when you were just a little thing- how you’ve grown.  It’s so nice to see you.”

Rose’s expression soured further, gaze cutting towards Malcolm, who looked uncomfortable but wasn’t exactly jumping to correct her.  “Actually, I’m not Clara,” she said coolly, folding her arms tightly across her chest.  “I’m Rose- his wife.”

She felt a petty glee at the rush of emotions across the other woman’s face, most of which seemed to consist of horror, confusion, and embarrassment.  It wasn’t quite the first time they’d been mistaken as father and daughter, and objectively she knew it wasn’t a stretch given he was her father’s age, but it still grated at her as the other times hadn’t.  Maybe because Malcolm actually knew this woman, maybe because they were now married and shagging, or maybe because she didn’t understand why is his fucking arm still around her?!

“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” the woman said, covering her mouth with one hand.  “I thought- I knew Wallace had died, sorry for your loss by the way-”

“Thank you,” Malcolm nodded.

“And I thought- well, never mind what I thought.  I’m so embarrassed.  Erm, lunch is on me- what can I bring you?”

Still annoyed, and a tiny bit insecure, Rose shook her head.  “We already ate.”

Malcolm frowned at her.  “No we-”  If looks could kill he would be on the ground at that moment, and apparently recognizing that, he changed his tune quickly.  “Yes, but we could do with a nibble, couldn’t we?”  He gave her pleading eyes, and she realized she would have to relent, or risk their tentative new relationship.

“What’s that?” she asked instead of answering, pointing to a square in the baked goods case.  It was caramel-colored on the bottom, chocolate on the top, and the first thing her eye caught on.

“It’s called millionaire’s shortbread, it’s chocolate, shortbread, and caramel.  Let me grab you one, have a seat,” Sarah Jane said hurriedly, darting back behind the counter.  “Sit, sit, I’ll bring you some food.”

Malcolm led her to a table by the window, and Rose didn’t miss how he picked a four-seater.  “Is something wrong?” he asked quietly, putting his hand on her knee once they were seated.  “I’m sorry Sarah assumed- that was a bit awkward.”

“I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth, knowing that he knew her well enough to not believe it, but hoping he would let it be.

“If you want to leave, we can,” he said earnestly, ducking his head to meet her eye.  “I can catch up with her later- I had no idea she was still in Scotland, I haven’t seen her in years.”

Keeping one eye on the brunette behind the counter to ensure they wouldn’t be snuck up on, she asked the one question gnawing at her gut.  “Did you date?”

“What?”

“You and her,” she jerked her head towards Sarah Jane.  “Did you date?”

He gave her an incredulous look.  “Of course not.  We were friends, but that was all.  Besides, I was married with a baby, remember?”

She just nodded, and his expression softened, hand moving from her knee to cover her own, thumb wriggling her wedding ring.  “And I’m married now, remember?  Very happily.  To be perfectly honest, far more so than I was then.”

“Here we are,” Sarah Jane said, and they looked up to find her carefully picking her way through the tables to them, holding a tray that carried far more than just the shortbread she’d promised.  “I know you said you ate, but I’ve never seen you turn away food, so I brought a bit of everything,” she told Malcolm, doing nothing to calm Rose’s fears- anger, she was angry, not afraid, what did she have to be afraid of from an old maybe-flame of his from thirty years ago who lived less than two miles from his Estate?  Down girl, she tried to reassure herself.  A man who makes love to you like Malcolm did last night doesn’t turn around and go after a uni flame.  I hope.

Then she wondered if it counted as making love if no declarations of love were made – for all she knew, she was just the closest willing and warm body.  Not that she’d seen him with any lovers in a few years, or knew of any.  But he hadn’t said it, even if she could see it in his eyes when he looked at her- and not just when she was naked.

-

She spent nearly the entirety of their lunch as a third wheel, poking at the admittedly delicious food and listening as they caught up, occasionally including her in stories of their exploits.  Though on the surface it was no different from lunch the previous day with Jack, it felt different, as though she were intruding.

She didn’t like the feeling.

Unable to take another minute of it she excused herself to the bathroom, taking her time washing her hands and fixing her hair.  She’d specifically chosen the grey, belted sweater dress for the way it hugged her figure and the ease of access, but now felt like she might’ve worn a snowsuit for all Malcolm had looked at her since they’d entered the shop.

She wasn’t happy, and she wasn’t happy being unhappy.  After a few poorly-chosen boyfriends in her younger years she’d sworn to never feel this insecure and unsettled in a relationship again, and yet here she was.

Deciding she’d been in there too long she reluctantly opened the door, barely fighting back the urge to slam it once she saw Sarah Jane waiting on the other side.

“All yours,” she said stiffly, moving aside, but the woman shook her head, stepping closer.

“No, I wanted to talk to you,” she lowered her voice, glancing back over her shoulder.

You can’t have my husband, Rose meant to say, but what came out was “Yes?”

“I don’t know you, but I know Malcolm,” Sarah Jane started.  “And he is… absolutely head over heels for you.  I knew him- them- for three years in uni, and never saw him look at Missy- I hope you know her, or at least of her- the way he does at you.”

“Is this going somewhere?”  She folded her arms, gritting her teeth.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

Rose blinked at that.  “Sorry?”

“Oh, I know he pretends to be so tough, that he doesn’t care, but he does, actually, very, very much.  He hasn’t always had the easiest time of it, and… you make him so happy, I don’t want to see him get hurt.  He deserves better than that.”

“And, what, you think you’re the person for the job?” slipped out, and though she flinched inside, she didn’t let it show.

Sarah Jane threw her head back, laughing.  “Oh, God no,” she snickered.  “I mean, did I have a crush in school?  Of course, everyone did.  But, no.  I’m just saying… please have good intentions.”

Rose stared at her, unable to decide if she was offended or touched.  “I love him,” she finally settled on.  “I don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want to get hurt.  I’ve known him- loved him- for too damn long.”

Sarah Jane nodded, biting her lip.  “I understand that.  Er, may I ask…”

You’ve already pried enough, what’s one more thing?  “Sure.”

“There’s no polite way to ask this- have you met his secretary?”

“Why?”

Sarah Jane’s expression grew worried.  “Never mind, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

“No,” Rose caught her by the arm when she tried to leave.  “Why?”

“Malcolm and I haven’t kept in touch,” she said carefully, “but his uncle and I did- not that I knew he was his uncle at the beginning, that was just coincidence- and we communicated semi-regularly.  And…”

Rose’s eyes widened slightly, suddenly supremely interested in what the other woman had to say.  “And?”

“Wally thought they were in love,” Sarah Jane confessed.  “Or at least, that Malcolm was, but was too damn stubborn, or maybe stupid, to do anything about it.  The last time I talked to him he had a plan, something ridiculous involving his will, to get them together, as a... a parting gift I think, but I have no idea what came of it.  You seem perfectly nice, and you mean a lot to Malcolm, who means a lot to me, and…  I’m sorry if I overstepped, but I thought you might need to know.”

Rose’s jaw dropped, unable to believe what she was hearing.  “Hang on, you’re saying Wally engineered something with his will so Malcolm and- and his assistant would… would get together?”

Sarah Jane nodded, looking apologetic.  “I just know I’d want to know if it were me.”

Rose covered her mouth with her hand, joyful laughter bubbling up inside her.  “Oh, I absolutely want to know,” she reassured the woman, suddenly seeing her in a far more favorable light.  “Absolutely.  Because that’s me- I’m Malcolm’s assistant!”

[lilyswritings]

Jealous

author’s note: This piece is for @fanaticwritings’ 2.7k challenge! I saw this prompt, and since the other one I chose is inevitably going to end up being super angsty and (more likely than not) sad, I went for something a little more joke-y and fluffy. Hope you guys enjoy!

prompt: “That’s french for go away, loser.”

Bucky Barnes x Reader

   The fancy Metropolitan bar, with a marble bar top and glowing purple lighting, is way busier than you’d anticipated. Sure, it is one of the most popular bars, located in the center of Manhattan - but it’s a Tuesday, for Christ’s sake. 

   “Don’t people have better things to do?” You mutter as you bring your drink to your lips, low enough to only be heard by your earpiece. 

   “Actually, looking at the profiles of this place’s clientele, they probably don’t. Most of the people around you are rich and probably bored out of their minds.” Natasha’s tinny voice enters your ear and you glance over a few faces, noting that she’s probably right - the woman to your left in a floor-length, gold-embroidered Gucci gown is blankly staring at the wall behind the bartenders head as a man in a crisp suit talks at her. 

   “Yikes.” You mutter, and gain a hum of approval from who you assume to be Nat. “How am I meant to find one blazer wearing socialite - who just so happens to sell bombs to bad people - in a sea of blazer wearing socialites?”

   Natasha scoffs. “That’s your job, Y/N. Look for something garish and overpriced. Our guy is notorious for his love of ugly fancy clothing.” 

   You cast your eyes around the room again, landing on a few people who almost match the description but not quite. Suddenly, as you begin to get frustrated, an overwhelming scent of musk and money invades your senses and a voice rings out behind you.

   “Are you waiting for someone?” 

   When you turn around, you come face to face with a young man in a black dress shirt staring expectantly at you, his hand gesturing towards the stool next to you. “That’s none of your business.” You say sharply, turning back to watch the crowd.

   He smiles, sitting down in the seat next to you before flagging the waiter down. “I’ll have a vodka and tonic, and another one of whatever this lady’s havin’.” He orders, then smiles - or rather, bares his teeth - at you, which you catch out of the corner of your eye. “What’s a pretty woman like you doing sitting here alone?”

   “I was enjoying my drink in silence.” You retort, barely sparing a glance at him. When you took on this mission you knew there was a chance you’d get hit on, but you’d been at the bar for almost an hour now and there was still no sign of the target. You suddenly found yourself wishing you hadn’t shooed Bucky away when he’d offered to be your partner tonight.

   “Aw, come on, shouldn’t you at least look at me when I’m talkin’ to you? I did just buy you a drink.” He grins, actually pushing one of your shoulders back to spin your stool to face him. 

   “Va te faire foutre.” You mutter, shoving his hand off of your shoulder. You know you could easily overpower him in a fight, but you don’t want to risk a scene before you’ve completed your mission - this guy is just becoming a nuisance.

   Persisting, he places one hand on your thigh. “What’s that mean, huh? Somethin’ sexy?” 

   Before you get the chance to rip his arm off your leg and snap the bone, a hand appears from your side and grips the man’s wrist, twisting until he’s forced to stand from the stool and crumple slightly.

    “That’s french for go away, loser.” Bucky almost growls at your side, releasing the man who scuttles away, cradling his wrist. When you glance over at him, you notice the gloved hand and smirk slightly, thinking of how painful a super-soldier’s metal arm must feel when it’s gripping your bone.

   “It actually translates to something closer to ‘kiss my ass’, but solid effort.” You smile, standing up from your bar stool as Bucky watches the man crawl away. “Also, you’re pretty sexy when you’re jealous.”

   “I’m still here.” Natasha reminds you, and you can almost picture her grimacing as you and Bucky flirt. You ignore her as Bucky finally stops staring at the man, who has now left the bar. 

   “I wasn’t jealous.” He grits out, but when he turns back to you his jaw is clenched and his hands are still fists, and you reach up and peck him on the cheek. 

   “Of course not, babe.” You say, rolling your eyes, before turning serious as you raise an eyebrow. “I thought you were in Moscow.” You ask, finishing your drink as the bartender arrives with the man’s forgotten order. You slide the vodka over to Bucky, who rolls his eyes but takes it anyway, downing it in one gulp. 

   “Change of plans,” He offers, turning to survey the crowd before turning back to you. “Also, couldn’t miss the chance to see you all dressed up, doll.” 

   You ignore the flush that rises in your cheeks, clearing your throat as you begin to sip your second drink. “So, do you have anything new to tell me or did you simply come here to injure perverts?” 

   He laughs, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling up the way they do when he finds something genuinely funny. As you reach up to tuck a loose strand of dark hair behind his ear, Bucky speaks again. “I do, in fact, bring news.” 

   You raise an eyebrow, glancing over him to check if there’s something obvious you’re missing. “Well?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at his cocky smirk.

   “The man you’ve been looking for is currently unconscious in a very nice car out back, waiting for us to go collect the hard-drive and bring him back to Fury.” Bucky says this all very quickly, reaching over and prying your drink from your hands as you process the information.

   “Excuse me?” You finally say, and he finishes your drink as well. Damn the super-soldier metabolism, you think, watching as he’s entirely unaffected by the concentrated alcohol.

   “He happened to be in the men’s room when I came in, and, uh, I happened to put him in a headlock as I was reaching for a hand towel.” Bucky replies casually, tugging his jacket cuffs down and readjusting the collar.

    “What in the-” You begin to retort but his head snaps up, towards the door of the bar, before he grabs your hand. 

   “You can yell at me for sabotaging your mission later,” He says, voice low, looking you in the eyes. “Or we can do this right here and face a horde of Riccardi’s mob connections.”

   You sigh in resignation, pulling a $20 bill from your purse and dropping it on the bar, allowing Bucky to pull you towards the back of the bar. Once the two of you are out of the back door, sat in the back of an expensive car sent by Tony Stark, you lean over to your boyfriend and place your lips close to his ear.

   “I love you dearly, but if you ever headlock one of my targets again and then dump him in a car without consulting me first again, I’m gonna reconsider this whole dating thing. Got it?” You whisper, and he turns to face you, kissing you quickly and nodding. 

   “Got it.” He sighs, holding your cheek with his flesh hand and pushing a strand of hair out of your face with his gloved hand. 

    “As much as I hate to interrupt this... Touching moment,” Natasha’s voice coming through your earpiece startles you, causing you to jump back in your seat. “But you need to focus of the arms dealer and almost-mob-boss you currently have unconscious in the trunk of a Stark Company car.” 

   You roll your eyes, looking over at Bucky and sighing. “We’ll figure it out.” You say, before pulling the earpiece out and dropping it on the seat next to you as Bucky leans in to kiss you again. 

[siobhanwolff-blog]

Through The Dark

The biggest of thank you’s to @superpupdanvers for being an angel and beta reading this. I love her so much!

TW: graphic violence, mentions of sexual assault and abuse. Proceed with caution. 

May 9th, 3am —  Las Vegas, Nevada.

Being a superhero is nothing like how they depict in the movies. But sometimes, it is like in the movies— having to fight off super villains in order to protect the city you love so much.

Phoenix was quite possibly the most dangerous supervillain Shade had ever encountered. She also happened to be one of the first he’d fought. She got her jollies on creating chaos and making Shade feel helpless.

An apartment building was on fire and Shade’s intangibility was next to useless against the heat of the flames. He can walk through solid objects with ease but he isn’t immune to temperature and the flames licking at his intangible skin still hurt like hell. He had gone in and out countless times, his head dizzy and lungs burning from inhaling so much smoke. In the building for what could be the eight or twentieth time, Shade grabbed up a small boy in his arms whose pulse was dangerously slow.

And that’s when the backdraft hit, sending Shade flying through the explosion and debris. So many people died when the apartment complex went down, so many people he should have been able to save.

But usually, on ordinary days, it’s nothing like that.

Most nights being a superhero just means rescuing a guy from a potentially deadly mugging, or walking a crying girl who was just beaten by her boyfriend to a women’s shelter. Most nights it is just sitting in a garbage-scented alleyway and comforting someone before walking them home. Shade spent most of his nights just walking people home and being a shoulder to cry on. Because wasn’t a guy in a mask who offered his time a patience better than no one at all?

She looked barely eighteen, stumbling down the alley, being backed up by a large brute of a man. The girl was clearly a prostitute, wearing a tight dark grey dress that left little to the imagination and more makeup than was healthy for her skin.

“I told you to leave me alone,” she had said, on the verge of hysterics as he pushed her against a wall. The guy was massive, tall and easily twice Shade’s weight in muscle alone. He would had have to take him down quickly and quietly.

Shade skimmed down the side on the building he’d been sitting on the roof of. Keeping himself cloaked in the shadows, he silently approached. The guys hand was sliding up under the hem of girls dress now, muttering filth into her ear as she shook. Shade had to lean up on his tiptoes to be able to press his hands over the brutes eyes, whispering a soft “go to sleep”. The man screamed and crumpled as the darkness, cold and unforgiving, pulled him into unconsciousness.

Her name was Isabelle and Shade sat with her in the disgusting alley for an hour, rubbing her back and handing her tissues that he kept in one of his utility belt pockets. When she’d finally calmed down, he offered to walk her home.

And then there were nights that are purely sickening. Nights that left Shade drained and crying himself to sleep. Those were the nights he would much rather be risking his neck fighting other supers. Because those are the nights he’s cleaning a dead man’s blood from his spandex suit, or finding the body of a child tossed to the side like nothing, holding the hand of a dying rape victim he was to late to save, or watching someone commit suicide by jumping from several floors up. He saves lives, but those are the nights he feels like he has failed his city.

Shade didn’t know how a drug bust had turned into this. He had already called the cops, which was definitely his mistake. He was young, hadn’t figured out that he needed to call after he’d knocked out the thugs. But as soon as the cops showed up, all hell broke lose. Two of the cronies took off, but the guy that appeared to be in charge started shooting. Instinct kicked in and Shade let the bullets buzz through him harmlessly. And turn a cop into swiss cheese instead. He was close enough for Shade to grab before he hit the ground. He held the officer in his lap, pressing uselessly at the wounds to slow the gush of bright red blood. He died within seconds. His labored breath stopping and body going slack in Shades arms.

Those are the nights he wishes he could erase from his memory. But the spackle of a hostages brains isn’t something easily forgotten. The world is so, so fucking cruel. And Shade is just trying to help— trying to protect innocent people from what he sees every goddamn night. And that would be a hell of a lot easier if the police weren’t always trying to put him behind bars.

Which is exactly why Shade was running down unfamiliar streets. His breath huffing out of his lungs in harsh pants, heart beating like it was trying to break its way out through his ribs, and boot-clad feet pounding against the pavement. Even on awful nights, this was the worst part of what he did. Running from the cops for hours when he could instead be helping people. When they could be helping people. Instead they were just wasting time, time that could mean the difference if someone lives or dies. But the police weren’t saving anyone— they are chasing Shade. Even if they ever got close enough to him to actually cuff him, he would simply slip away. He was a shadow, and that’s what shadows did. Just disappeared in the buzzing nightlife of Las Vegas.

Bullets whizzed harmlessly through him— into his back and out of his chest, straight through his head to lodge uselessly into brick walls. It was as if he really was made of shadows, completely untouchable.

He rounded a corner that was more tall buildings than flashing excitement. He faded into the dark. Melted back against a wall, becoming apart of the shadowy darkness. He couldn’t do this in the center of the city buzz. Everything moved so quickly in Vegas, and people would notice if a shadow against a wall stopped moving. Shade had made this mistake when he was younger, first figuring out how to be a vigilante of such a busy city. He had taken a bullet to the shoulder for his ignorance. Shade was smarter know.

He watched silently as five police officers and a German Shepard rounded the corner in search of him. He held his breath fearing the smallest puff of air would give him away.

But they went right past Shade, couldn’t see him cloaked in the shadows. Two people stumbled out of the bar directly across the street from him. A man and a woman who were drunk, and leaning into each other, and laughing. They looked so happy and that wasn’t something Shade saw often. Usually when he saw people stumbling out of bars it was accompanied with angry yelling.

The cheap watch around Shade’s left wrist vibrated, it was three in the morning— it was time to go home.

An hour later, Shade costume hidden underneath the broken floorboard in his bedroom, Ronan Kingsley laid in bed unable to sleep despite his exhaustion. Always being tired was something that simply came with being a Las Vegas superhero— it was in the job description. And he knew when seven rolled around and he had to get up and actually function, Ronan would hate himself for not falling asleep until four-thirty. And one of his roommates, it was always Sara, would make a snarky comment about him sleeping around and his other roommate, it was always Kira, would silently hand him the coffee he needed oh-so-badly. And neither of them knew.

They couldn’t know. That was just another one of those things that was in the job description. If they wanted to assume he was sleeping around or involved with a sketchy gang, that was fine. He didn’t care what they thought he was doing when they found him gone in the middle of the night, as long as they didn’t think he was running around Las Vegas in a superhero costume. It was safer for them to not know.

And then Ronan would shower, get dressed, and go to work. Because that’s what twenty-six year-olds did in Vegas on Mondays.

~

“Kingsley!” Kathy shouted at him when he walked into The Beat, looking irritated. He knew he was five minutes late but traffic was a bitch, due to an awful car accident, but she had never gotten irritable with him before. In fact, ever since she hired him after her son moved to New York to go to law school she had treated him like a son. Most of the time she was more of a mother than his own ever had been.

“I’m so sorry I was late, there was an accident and—”

“I don’t care about that,” his fiery redheaded boss said, simply waving him off. “Did you not get my texts last night?”

“Uh,” no, Ronan thought, because I turn off my regular cell and leave it at home to fight crime on the streets of Vegas and only carry disposable crappy cells incase of an absolute emergency. But he couldn’t say that, because Ronan was not a crime-fighting hero in tights. He was just a guy that worked at a coffee house and he was clumsy, and nothing interesting ever happens in his life. Just boring ol’ Ronan.

“Never mind, doesn’t matter. This is Oliver,” Kathy put her hands on the shoulders of the curly haired guy with her, who was smiling all too brightly. Ronan had not even noticed the guy, with observation skills like that it was truly a miracle he hadn’t gotten himself killed yet. But when Ronan met Oliver’s shining green eyes he swore that his breath got stuck in his throat for a moment. There was no way to deny that he was beautiful. His red hair was messy and his eyes were bright even though they were hidden behind wide, round glasses. He was younger than Ronan, shorter, and his shoulders weren’t as broad. But When Ronan shook his hand he could tell that Oliver was strong.

And Ronan swore that he would not allow this boy to be his downfall. He stayed aloof and kept even the people he loved the most at arm's length. He was not about to forget what he was— who he was— just because some pretty boy made his chest feel like a thunderstorm.

“He is the new weekend barista but since Angie is on maternity leave I will need you to come in for the next couple weekends and train him. I can’t just put a newbie behind the counter without supervision, my customers expect nothing but perfection from us and—“

“Wait,” Ronan cut her off, icily. “Sundays are my only days off, I have things to do.” He had yoga class in the morning and always got a couple extra hours of patrolling in at night. He didn’t want to give that up to work a seven day week. Kathy and The Beat were important to him, but so was his Sunday routine.

His fiery boss rolled her eyes. “Fine, take Monday off,” she waved it off before launching into the story how she built the place from the ground up. Literally and metaphorically. While it captivated Oliver, Ronan had heard it a million times and tuned her out to help the other barista prepare to open shop. Emilia was technically the pastry chef but since they were short-handed she had been helping out.

She said his name softly to get his attention and Ronan arched an eyebrow at her. “I can train him today if you’d like.” She offered with a gentle smile. It was a tempting offer, Ronan wanted very little to do with the beautiful man, but he shook his head.

“It’s my responsibility, besides you do more than enough as it is.” She looked like she wanted to argue, but before she could Ronan walked to the front to unlock the doors and flip on the neon Open sign. Regulars quickly filled up the shop and they were both too busy to make any conversation.

~

By noon Ronan wanted to strangle him. He was a hard worker, charming, and the customers adored him. Logically, Ronan knew he was a great guy and there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. He was a great addition to the team and would fit right in with the ‘family’ Kathy insisted that they were. But he was touchy and Ronan’s muscles ached from being continuously tensed. Oliver was flirty and Ronan tried not to take it personally when he winked at him but he was so unaccustomed to being hit on that he didn’t know how to handle it and stared at Oliver until they were both uncomfortable.

After the lunch rush dwindled down, Ronan leaned against the counter next to Emilia. “Can you hold up the fort if Oliver and I take a lunch break?”

She smiled sweetly and nodded. “‘Course I can. Are you going to D’Latte?”

“Always do,” Ronan answered. He was already untying his apron and hanging it on one of the hooks behind the wall. “Want me to bring you back turrón?”

“Please.” She said and he nodded. Ronan may scoff at his bosses claims that they were a family, but he did have a soft spot for his co-workers. Kathy, Angie, and Emilia were good people and The Beat was his second home. He would never admit it, and he would always keep his kindnesses to a minimum, but he did care for them.

Ronan showed Oliver to the break room and asked Kathy if she wanted anything from D’latte before heading out. The small coffee place across the street was more than just a coffee shop. They offered a revolving variety of Spanish baked goods and sandwiches and had the comfiest chairs. And Ronan, no matter what mask he wore, always received free coffee. Which was more than a little disconcerting, but he chose not to think on it too long.

“Ah, Ronan my friend!” Mr. Soto greeted in his gruff Hispanic accent when Ronan entered. But he could not even muster out a hello in reply, his eyes glued to the television mounted high on the wall behind the coffee shop counter. The sound was off, but turned to a news channel.

Bank Robbery Leaves Seven Dead the text at the bottom read. “Can you turn the sound on please, Mr. Soto?” Ronan asked as he walked closer, eyes not leaving the screen. He heard the coffee shop owner sigh but did as requested and turned on the sound on the TV.

It happened at eight that morning, when Ronan was complaining to Kathy about not having a day off.

The robbers started shooting when police showed up, used a child as a hostage to get away. Ten men or women in masks taking a child. They were interviewing the missing child’s father, a man in his early thirties, eyes red and wet with held back tears, and begging to have his daughter back. Begging for Shade, Vegas’ vigilante to bring his unharmed daughter back to him. And Ronan felt sick.

Mr. Soto clicked off the television completely.

“I think that’s enough of that,” he grumbled, pressing a large paper coffee cup into Ronan’s shaking hand.  He felt like he was going to be sick.

A child hostage. It had been hours. Unless they wanted to use her for something else, she was probably already dead and Ronan could have stopped it.

Ronan was wrong, being chased by incompetent police wasn’t the worst part of what he did. It was this. Feeling so much not like a superhero, because he could have saved her but he didn’t.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Will you do your fave book? Or if you already did it, the next fave? And so on...

Short opinion: I am constantly torn between wishing that The Beginning was twice its actual length and being in awe that Applegate manages to cram so much into a sparse 156 pages.

Long opinion: 

As I mentioned here, #54 is actually my favorite book in the series.  I’m probably the only fandalite on the planet for whom that is true, but I am a complete and utter sucker for tragedy. And this is tragedy in its purest form.  Tragedy is frustratingly hard to find in contemporary American stories, because it offers no happiness or culmination at the end.  Bad guys don’t always get punished; good guys don’t ever get medals from princesses or happy retirements into the sunset or reunions with lost loved ones; the very notions of “bad” and “good” get irreversibly complicated.  A tragedy is the story of well-intentioned and deeply sympathetic protagonist(s) coming to a bad end that is at least partially one’s own fault, at least partially the fault of random Shit Happens, and entirely coherent and fitting with the tiny cascade of random events that led to the fall of a lightning-struck tower.  

The purpose of comedy (i.e. stories with happy endings) is easy entertainment.  The purpose of tragedy is to inspire fear and horror through making the audience wonder whether it is possible for each of them to meet a similar end.  With the arguable exception of Cassie, every one of the Animorphs gets his or her own tragedy in the end.  This series is a war epic about the costs of violence.  It was never going to have a happy ending.

Rachel’s loss, in the opening moments, is the most obvious character culmination of the series.  She has been struggling for months if not years to define herself outside of the war, attacked on all sides (her best friend, her boyfriend, her cousin and field commander, her own mother) for the very role that they all nonetheless demand that she perform in order to keep them all safe, not only from the yeerks but from themselves.  Rachel has been the team’s first and last line of defense since the EGS tower battle (#7), and has all-but taken on the title of trash collector since becoming the one to handle David (#22).  Killing Tom is her final act of protecting her found family; completing the suicide run is her final ability to use her comfort with violence to do something good.  She might have done and even become terrible things, but she ultimately succeeds in turning that terror against an even greater evil in her last moments of life.

Arguably the next domino to fall is Tobias.  I’m with Cates: his is the ending I find the least satisfying, because it devalues his friendship-cum-familyhood with Ax.  However, I also can’t say that Applegate didn’t set that ending up.  As early as #13 Tobias shows worrying signs of codependency with Rachel; as early as #3 he proves willing to retreat into his hawk side when the going gets tough.  The scene where “Ken and Barbie” disturb his self-imposed exile through their simple reminder of humanity suggests that Tobias’s retreat isn’t nearly as complete as he’d like it to be, but then he’s never been able to escape being human no matter how hard he tries (see: #3, #33, #43, #49).

Part of what I find so fascinating about Jake’s character arc (fascinating enough that I wrote a goddamn novel or two on the subject) is how much his family story starts complicating this hyper-normative idea of married-parents-two-kids-fenced-backyard-golden-retriever-nice-neighborhood-white-upper-middle-class familyhood starting right in the first book, and how it only makes things worse once the war is over. Jake’s family continues to look “perfect” (i.e. normative) from the moment he first gets home and joins his brother and parents (and resident yeerk) for a home-cooked dinner in #1 all the way up until the alien inside his mom is firing a dracon beam at him from the front seat of her minivan, putting the first scar on the otherwise flawless siding on the facade of their two-story McMansion in #49.  So it’s only natural that Jake’s first thought on committing fratricide in the immediate aftermath of mass murder is to wonder “how would [he] explain this to [his] parents,” and it makes a fair amount of sense that he basically tries to retreat back to that safe haven he (unlike all of his friends) has before the war begins (#54).  But Jake can’t go home; home isn’t there for him to retreat to anymore.  His desire to retreat back to his childhood home borders on pathological, since in many ways he’s older than his parents have ever been, and he’s gone beyond the point where he could ever hope to give his burdens back to them.  

And then there are three.  And then two.

There are two details about Ax’s role in the final book that I find really fascinating.  The first is that line (which I quote all the time, because I find it so revelatory) where Cassie describes herself and Marco as “the only two real survivors” of the war (#54).  Why isn’t Ax included in the list of “survivors” along with Cassie and Marco, even though he’s alive and (physically) well at the time?  My guess would be the hints that he is, in his own way, just as addicted to risk and violence as Rachel ever was.  He doesn’t know how to survive without the war, which leaves him “looking for trouble” in his “boredom”—right up until he recklessly stumbles upon enough “trouble” to get his entire crew killed (#54).  That chapter also contains the other fascinating detail: it’s labeled “Aximili,” not “Ax” the way his chapters are in all the Megamorphs books.  Ax has at least partially given up on the identity he fought so hard to forge throughout the entire book series.  He has retreated back into being what his society expects him to be: a leader, a warrior, and an andalite who does not concern himself much with alien cultures.  He continues playing that role, apparently indifferent to what is happening with Tobias and the others on Earth, right up to his death.

Quick side note: I find it so cool (by which I mean excruciatingly painful) that each of the Animorphs gets what they wanted in the first books in the series—and that those dreams prove to be so hollow once achieved.  Rachel gets eternal glory, and the ultimate thrill ride along the way (#2).  Ax surpasses Elfangor in reputation and respect (#8).  Jake fulfills his daydreams of being treated as a superhero (#2), and of going home to his family (#1).  Marco gets to be not only “an entire episode of Stupid Pet Tricks” but quite possibly the most famous person alive (#2).  Tobias escapes his life and manages once and for all to “fly free” (#3).  Cassie finds a non-violent way to change the world (#4); she even gets to be a horse for a while along the way (#29).  And it’s nothing like any of them thought it would be.  None of their childhood dreams have much feasibility or even appeal by the time they are some of the weariest, most mature and worn-out adults of their generation.  Only Cassie manages to find satisfaction in getting everything she ever wanted.

Only Cassie… because Marco’s not quite a “survivor” either.  He brags about his fame and materialism, sure—but then we’ve never been able to trust Marco’s narration.  (See: the amount of time he spends obfuscating and/or lying to the reader in #30, #25, #15, and #35.)  If you ask Marco outright, everything’s fine and it always has been.  But then Marco describes Jake and Tobias showing up with an offer of a suicide mission as “everything around me turned translucent, like it was all fake… an old reality emerged from beneath the illusion” (#54).  Even before that scene, it’s striking just how much time Marco spends obsessing over Jake.  Marco freely admits to Cassie that he acquired an eagle morph for the specific purpose of following Jake around to spy on him, spends almost half the alleged description of his own life talking about how poorly Jake is functioning, and actually talks Jake into leading his crazy suicide mission for Jake’s own sake.  What Marco doesn’t mention—and what we can assume from Jake’s own narration doesn’t happen—is him actually picking up the phone to call Jake and ask him if he wants to talk.  The flash and glam and seven cars and heated pool and personal butler are yet more misdirection; Marco’s not okay.  He’s just telling us about all the ways Jake’s not okay because that’s safer than admitting his own vulnerability.  Jake says “Marco, you were bored out of your mind” and Marco unhesitatingly agrees (#54).  Marco spends so much time trying to convince everyone of how very happy he is with materialism and Hollywood glam that he fools Cassie, he fools Tobias, he all but fools himself… but he never fools Jake.  Which is why he has to keep Jake at arm’s length, no matter how much his guilt at doing so might eat him up as he’s sitting around watching Jake watching Rachel’s grave in the middle of the night.

And then there’s Cassie.  Cassie who I’ve compared to an anti-Susan Pevensie, Cassie who finds a man who treats her right and uses power for good without resorting to violence.  Marco, who was the last to join the war effort, might have eventually been able to find equilibrium if he’d been willing to get a haircut and get a real job (X). Cassie, who is unafraid to work on her own and leave her team when something needs doing and they can’t help her (#19, #29, #43, #44), is already living a new normal.  Jake is right when he says that Cassie’s “a one-woman army,” and he’s right that she’s “the soldier who has fought her war and moved on.”  The two Animorphs with the least “addiction” to the war emerge from the other side the most intact (#22). Cassie’s never going to be the same person she was, but she understands that.  She doesn’t try to hide from the past, she doesn’t try to retreat into it; she picks herself up and figures out a way to live on her own.  She shows that there’s hope for life after war, but also that there’s no returning to childhood.  She lives, and keeps on living, even after two (maybe three, maybe five) of her fellow Animorphs have been eaten alive by the war.  Because right from the start, Cassie has been comfortable with leaving her team behind—and in the end, she leaves her team behind, and she can’t save a single goddamn one of them.

It’s not a happy ending.  It’s not a comforting ending.  It’s not the kind of ending that suggests people get what they deserve and deserve what they get.  It doesn’t offer the comfortable reassurance that the right ends will justify any means.  It’s the kind of ending that gets in your head, burrows down deep, reads through your memories, and won’t leave you alone.

Don’t get me wrong: I love these characters.  They were my heroes and my idols and my ink-and-paper friends throughout my childhood.  They’ve taught me as much as a lot of real people I’ve known in my life, and there’s a part of me that does want them to live happily ever after.  But if they did, they would lose a lot of the realness that makes them so precious and so painful to love in the first place.

[fanfictionconnectionwordpress]

What if mc got turned into a puppy and the rfa + minor trio had to take care of her?

***I’m going to make this into one long drawn out fic where MC gets passed from person to person. I hope you like it! ~Let’s Connect! FFC***

Character breakdown: Secret Ending canon characters, Secretending 02 Saeran, V survived and with an operation to restore mostof his sight, my version of Vanderwood as seen in my VanderwoodBackstory Fanfiction*** 

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Seven:

He just about freaked out when you were suddenly transformed before his eyes. He hadn’t been expecting the prank ‘magic potion’ he’d used to actually work! “I’m sorry!!! It’ll wear off in six hours!!! Wait…MC are you tricking me?”

At first he picked you up, looking around. hoping the real you was hiding somewhere, but there you were just wagging your tail like crazy.

“Oh…my…lol…you’re soooo adorable MC!” Now that he was looking into your eyes and that cute puppy face…he couldn’t resist but to smush you against his chest and nuzzle you as you whimpered and attempted to escape his arms only to be suddenly pulled away.

-

Saeran:

“Idiot brother, you’re hurting it.” Saeran had stolen you away and was now holding you away from his body with a skeptical look on his face.

Seven was starting to reach for you again, but Saeran ran toward his room, locking away in there.

He flopped down on his bed, and you walked up to him slowly as he’d hung his head ans you were a little concerned that he was about to have one of his panic attacks before he spoke again.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He shook his head and put a hand to the side of his head. “I…have no idea how to take care of an animal…I just couldn’t stand to see you getting abused like that.”

That’s when someone knocked on the door. “Seven, go the fuck away.”

-

Vanderwood:

He rolled his eyes when redhead number two assumed he was Seven. “I know you’re keeping a dog in there. Seven desperately wants it back, but I don’t want another mess-maker in this house, so I’m going to give it to one of those other member people.”

It hadn’t taken him long to come up with that plan. Neither of the redheads would be able to take care of an animal, and he’d be the one stuck picking up for their slack. Nope. The dog had to go.

When he wasn’t getting a response, his eyebrow started twitching as he was becoming somewhat irate. “C'mon. Give me the animal.”

He was about to break his way into Saeran’s room when the door opened just a bit and hands were holding out a tiny little brown thing. Cute.

-

V:

He’d been the only one online when the person claiming to be Vanderwood had logged in through the old ‘Unknown’ account. Still, they all knew that part of their past was over, so V had no issue going to pick up a puppy.

How hard could it even be?

V picked you up and patted you all the way back to his place as you rode the bus, but as soon as you got back to his place, he put you on the ground, placed down whatever snack he could find in a bowl and got lost in his own work. 

He’d even…left the front door open.

You walked towards it but that’s when Jumin walked in, a raised eyebrow as he looked down at you. “Jihyun. Were you even aware your new pet was trying to escape?”

-

Jumin:

His childhood friend hadn’t been too reluctant to give up the dog. It wasn’t like he’d actually wanted to keep it anyway, but Jihyun had too much of a habit to get lost in his work, and he’d probably forget to let the dog out if anything, so Jumin had to take her.

She was pretty and elegant, much like Elizabeth the 3rd, but it was concerning him that he would be bringing a dog into his house with his precious Elizabeth the 3rd never having met such an animal.

Jumin decided to keep you in his arms as he stepped into his house, but almost immediately Elizabeth the 3rd was there hissing. “Now, now, my princess, it’s only temporary until I can find her a proper owner.”

Elizabeth the 3rd just wouldn’t stop hissing, and it was his day off, so he’d wanted to spend it in peace with her after visiting Jihyun. There was only one thing to do.

-

Jaehee:

She hated cat sitting, and dog sitting wasn’t any better. This was not a part of her job description!

And yet, Jaehee had still brought you home. You were quiet, minding youe own business, as Jaehee started on her work, but that’s when papers and binders started flying left and right as Jaehee finished project after project.

There was nowhere to escape. If you were a cat like Elizabeth the 3rd, you could have climbed something, but instead you were trying to evade things and then yelping when you got hit.

It didn’t take Jaehee long to realize what was happening, and she took to the messenger, apologizing profusely despite knowing you were just an animal and couldn’t possibly understand her.

Only Yoosung and Seven were online and obviously she couldn’t give you to Seven. Wait…Zen had logged in for just a moment! But then he was gone just as quickly.

-

Zen:

He’d seen the others chatting, so he’d gotten online, only to see that cats were being discussed because of Seven’s animal abusive tendencies, and then Yoosung had suggested that Zen should take care of a puppy?

With his allergies to cats being so bad, he probably was allergic to dogs too!

Zen wasn’t about to risk his beautiful face swelling up when he had a performance tomorrow, so he had just logged out as fast as lightning.

-

Yoosung:

He had protested that he couldn’t possibly take care of a dog since he was a student, but here you were curled up in his lap as he played LOLOL.

Yoosung did love animals, and he’d actually spent time to clean up his entire apartment and get you little snacks and treats before Jaehee had arrived to drop you off, so he was definitely the best temporary owner yet.

His violet eyes had widened as Jaehee had handed you to him and “You’re the most precious puppy I’ve ever seen!”

Surely, you were reaching hour six now as Yoosung paused his game to lean back and pet you. “Are you doing okay, puppy? Hm…that’s not right I can’t just call you puppy…even if I do have to find someone to adopt you, you should at least have a name.”

The blond was scratching the top of his head before you practically saw a light-bulb go off over it. “That’s it! I’ll call you MC since you’re as adorable as she is! But don’t tell her that. It’ll be our little secret.”

Yoosung winked and laughed right when you changed back, and now you were sitting face to face with him on his lap.

His face changed color so quickly to red and then the both of you were jumping apart and trying to explain what had happened was difficult with the blush on your own face.

In the end, Yoosung got online to tell everyone how horrible they were at taking care of you, even though you were actually the human MC now, he was going to do a better job, and that’s the story of how he became your boyfriend.

-

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[guyawks]

Do You Trust Your Boyfriend?

It is not uncommon in parts of Asia for unwed couples to participate in a supernatural ritual known as Maiden’s Gamble. The exact nature of the ritual’s origins is unknown; however, stories suggest that it once served as a condition for marriage, offered by a bride’s family in lieu of a dowry. If undertaken correctly, it is said that completing Maiden’s Gamble will grant a couple a long and healthy relationship, blessed by good fortune and prosperity. The ritual is also said to ensure lifetime fertility in both partners, provided that they remain together indefinitely. Should you and your boyfriend hope to prove the extent of your love; the following guide will explain to you how to successfully perform the ritual.

WARNING: This ritual should not be undertaken lightly. There is a possibility that you may become trapped in another dimension and be left to suffer for all eternity. More importantly, you may end up allowing a demon permanent access to our world. Whether or not these fates come to pass will depend entirely on the strength of you and your boyfriend’s bond.

It is strongly advised that couples do not participate in the ritual if they have been dating for under a year. While there have been rare exceptions, past attempts at the ritual by new couples have almost always resulted in failure. It is also recommended that couples do not proceed with the ritual if they have recently experienced a period of upheaval within their relationship, such as a breakup or an affair. Finally, couples should under no circumstances attempt the ritual if they have a child together. This is an extremely dangerous thing to do, as it will almost certainly bring harm upon the child if the ritual’s outcome is not successful.

Contrary to past claims, it is possible for heterosexual couples to reverse their roles within the ritual, with the male participant assuming the female’s role and vice versa. Similarly, it is possible for the ritual to be undertaken by homosexual participants. However, both of these divergences can yield unpredictable results, and are highly discouraged.

If you believe that you and your boyfriend fulfil all of the requirements for the ritual, then you may proceed.

The instructions for performing Maiden’s Gamble are as follows:

Locate a publicly accessible space, conventionally reserved for females. In the past, this location has taken a number of forms, but in modern times a public bathroom facility is typical. Bring with you a knife and a time-keeping device, such as a watch.

Bid farewell to your boyfriend. This may be the last time you ever see him, and your parting impression will be extremely important. He must remain outside of the bathroom while the ritual is taking place.

Enter a private bathroom stall, exactly one minute before midnight. Lock the stall door behind you.

Carve your boyfriend’s name into the door of the stall, followed by the word “loves” and your own name. This signifies your roles as participants, and will ensure that your boyfriend is the only one capable of freeing you.

Spin in a counter-clockwise direction. While you do so, whisper, “My lover has another” exactly 66 times. You will not need to keep your eyes shut for this, as it will not make any difference to what happens. However, many have found doing so preferable, for psychological reasons.

As you spin, you will notice the wall behind you slowly fading. Once you have finished spinning, a glowing red corridor should have appeared in its place. The stall door will remain, but the lock will now be on the other side of the door, and you will be unable to open it through any means.

Follow the path behind you into the depths of Hell. That is where you will reside for the following 24 hours. Your fate is no longer in your hands.

Now is when your lover’s trial begins. As you take her place in purgatory, a demon will enter our world and take yours alongside your boyfriend. Those who have undertaken the ritual have referred to this creature as a succubus, although such a description is likely insubstantial. She will be beautiful, a paragon of your boyfriend’s every desire, and will perfectly fulfil his image of an ideal woman. If there are any traits that your boyfriend wishes you possessed, she will have them. If there are any unique interests that your boyfriend holds, she will share them.

The rules of the test are simple. Over the course of the following day, the demon will accompany your boyfriend wherever he goes. She will attempt to convince him to leave you in Hell, and claim her as his girlfriend instead. You will not need to worry about the demon harming your boyfriend. She will be unable to injure, frame or otherwise physically prevent him from returning to you. She cannot kill him. She will be extremely persuasive, but only as persuasive as an attractive, well-spoken woman can be. It is important that you do not underestimate the demon. If there are any secrets that you have kept from your boyfriend, they will be known to her. The same follows for anything you may have said about him behind his back. She will already know all of this, and will exploit every foible in mounting her case for your imprisonment. This is the goal of her existence. She has prepared for this opportunity for a very, very long time.

Once the 24-hour period has elapsed, your boyfriend must decide whether to return to the bathroom and free you, or abandon you to your fate. In turn, you must go back to the corridor from which you entered this dimension and wait. Your boyfriend will have until exactly midnight to release you. Otherwise the stall door will open to reveal nothing, and you will remain trapped here forever.

Should the demon prove successful in winning your boyfriend’s heart, she will eliminate any trace of you from his life. This includes, but is not limited to, personal possessions, shared pets, and offspring. Should your boyfriend’s commitment withstand her manipulation, he will return to the bathroom and allow you passage back into our reality. Only him doing so can free you. Upon your release, the demon will vanish and resume her place in Hell.

Congratulations if you succeed in reaching the end of the ritual. Throughout the rest of your relationship, you and your partner will both find that circumstances eventuate in your favour. Maybe this fortune will arrive in the form of a dream-wedding venue, or the perfect first-time house. Perhaps you will simply be blessed with children that are healthy, or never suffer a major job loss ever again. For as long as your union endures, so too should your luck. And, of course, your love for one another will be proven true.

NOTE: Never return to the same bathroom again. The demon will be angry that you won, and will not take kindly to your victory over her. Though banished from the Earth, her grasp on this area will likely remain. If you ever return here, she may attempt to physically scar you, or even drag you back to her realm as revenge.

Many sceptics of Maiden’s Gamble have questioned the actual danger it poses to participants. The ritual, it seems, is too easy. They claim that no genuinely loving boyfriend would be so easily manipulated as to fail the ritual, particularly if he has prepared beforehand and is aware of the tricks he will encounter. Even you yourself may find Maiden’s Gamble uncompelling and devoid of any meaningful risk to faithful relationships, such as your own. If this is how you truly feel about you and your partner’s love, then you have nothing to lose in trying the ritual yourself. After all, trust is trust.

Do you trust your boyfriend?