#I did tell her that I’m reserving the right to a counter-proposal

[sportsallover]

I haven’t had a chance to get a look at the 2025 TdF route yet, but my friend has already texted me that they’re going to her city, so I guess I know when I’m going on the Tour de France anyway 😂

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [8] - Bells

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Some decisions require late night visits.

Word Count: 2600

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You didn’t think the rest of the week would be peaceful in any way but even you couldn’t guess just how tense it would be.

“This is insane,” Becca pointed out, crossing her arms and leaning back on her seat. You had decided to meet up for brunch but this time, two other tables in the café were also reserved for your and Becca’s multiple bodyguards who were enjoying their coffees. You stole a look at them, then turned to Becca.

“You’re telling me,” you said. “Four bodyguards everywhere I go. It sounds absurd.”

“And this is Barnes territory!” Becca hissed. “I’ve never ever needed bodyguards in our territory, and all of a sudden...”

“How stressed out is everyone?” you asked and she shook her head with a sigh.

“I could barely see Bucky in these last couple of days,” she said. “My dad said I have nothing to worry about, but you know how he is. It’s kind of condescending, honestly.”

“And your mom?”

“She has this bright idea to send me off to vacation to Zürich until the dust settles here.”

You pulled your brows together. “Will you?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “I’m not leaving any of you here.”

You reached out to squeeze at her hand before grabbing your coffee to take a sip.

“How about you?”

“I think I will get the same speech tonight,” you said. “My dad wants to talk to me.”

“And?”

“I’ll make a counter offer.”

“To?”

“To help out,” you said. “With this situation. Besides, me leaving in a time like this would be basically handing Ian the heir position, and I’m not doing that.”

“Do you think your father will accept that offer though?”

“We’ll see,” you said, trying to ignore the way your stomach did a flip. “I’d be better than Ian than handling this, he has to see that.”

“Bucky says Ian isn’t even carrying a gun anymore,” Becca said with a small laugh and you tilted your head.

“What?”

“Yeah. Apparently he says no one can get to him with his men around him. I guess it’s his way of making them think he trusts them with his life.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right.”

“As much as I hate to admit, it looks like it’s working,” Becca admitted. “He looks pretty confident.”

“Confidence can lead to very huge mistakes,” you said and cleared your throat. “Ugh, let’s talk about something else. How’s everything with Leila?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you!” Becca said, snapping her fingers. “Do you think it’s still too early to ask her to marry me?”

You blinked a couple of times. “Becca, you two started dating less than a week ago.”

“Yeah but I could still ask her!”

“That’s the hopeless romantic in you speaking.”

“That’s the orgasms speaking actually,” she corrected you, making you grin.

“Either way, neither of those make you think logical.”

“Logical is overrated,” she pointed out. “How about you?”

“Me?”

“You and Ethan?”

“We’re not doing anything,” you said slowly. “I did hire some bodyguards for him though, just in case.”

“Maybe you should take the first step.”

“I’m not going to do that,” you said, shaking your head fervently and she hummed.

“Don’t tell me Bucky’s proposal affected you like that.”

“What? No!” you exclaimed, scrunching up your face. “Why would you say that?”

Becca rolled her eyes.

“Maybe because I’ve known you two my whole life?”

Your frown deepened. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Please,” she said, shooting you a look. “All those glances and so much bickering, it’s obvious something is there—”

“Hate,” you cut her off. “Hate is what’s there.”

Becca gave you a mischievous smile, then sipped her coffee.

“Whatever you say.”

“Bucky and I could never work,” you insisted and Becca hummed.

“What about you and Ethan?”

“Ethan is—” you paused for a moment. “Dating him would be incredibly simple. You know, no ulterior motives, no strategies, nothing complex.”

“That would be so convincing if you could deal with simple more than just a couple of months.”

“You can,” you said and Becca waved a hand in the air.

“I was never promised the heir position,” she said. “It was always Bucky. That’s why I’ve never had that…that burning ambition both of you have. At the end of the day, I do want a simple life Y/N but you’ve never been that type. I don’t think you could actually be happy in a simple relationship.”

You clicked your tongue and leaned back in your chair.

“Well then that complicates things,” you said. “I don’t think I would be happy with someone in the business either.”

“Why not?”

“Are you kidding?” you said with a laugh. “Come on, you know how spouses are treated in the business. You’re just—you’re there as the arm candy, they never let you get involved—”

“That’s the generation before us.”

“Did Bucky put you up to this?” you asked and she huffed out a laugh.

“I didn’t say you should marry my brother,” she pointed out. “I’m just saying maybe you shouldn’t force yourself to like a simple life if you want more than that. Especially if you’re basing your decision on some ancient bullshit rule our families decided to follow.”

You heaved a sigh and took a sip of your coffee.

“Didn’t you just say logical is overrated?” you asked. “Since when are you so logical?”

“I have my moments,” Becca grinned at you. “So. Can we talk about my love life now?”

“Yes but you can’t ask her to marry you.”

“I can ask her to be my fiancée,” Becca stated and you tilted your head.

“That’s…that’s basically the same, Becca.”

Becca rolled her eyes and groaned.

“Fine!” she said. “Can I at least ask her if we should move in together?”

You bit back a smile.

“I’ll give you my permission for that once you two reach the third month.”

“Oh we will,” Becca said with a bright smile. “Great. I’ll send you the house warming party gift list when I get home then.”

                                               *

 You had assumed your father would see you and gave you the same speech Becca got from her parents at home, but apparently he was swamped with work so he had asked you to come to the company. When you got there, your father’s assistant told you he was in the middle of a meeting with Ian and Stark, so you took a seat in the waiting area and stole a look at Ryan who was no doubt waiting for Ian.

“Hi Ryan.”

“Ma’am,” he greeted you, his tone rough but respectful. You smiled at him, crossing your arms.

“Waiting for my cousin?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” you asked and he paused for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders.

“Why are you working for him?” you asked. “He’s an asshole.”

Ryan didn’t even dignify that with an answer as he looked at you, his expression completely calm like he was very used to not giving answers.

 “Riveting conversation as always,” you teased him and he bit back a small smile.

“I respect your family, ma’am.”

“I mean you don’t really have to respect Ian though, God knows he does nothing to earn that,” you pointed out. “You know he’s looking forward to starting a war, right?”

“He’s ready to see you,” the assistant said before Ryan could answer you, and you nodded your head, then stood up from the couch.

“Have a nice evening Ryan.”

“You too ma’am,” he said and you followed the assistant to your father’s office.

“Y/N sweetheart, hello,” he said as he walked to you to press a kiss on your cheek. “Sit down, sit down!”

“How was your meeting?” you asked and he waved a hand in the air.

“The usual,” he said. “I have four other meetings after this.”

“Daddy—”

“I will rest when I get home, I promise,” he said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Right. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“It’s just that I don’t know when they will be finished, and I figured you’d be asleep by the time I got home,” he said. “Y/N listen—”

“Don’t bother giving me that speech, I’m not going anywhere,” you cut him off and he frowned.

“How did you…?”

“Winnifred gave the same speech to Becca. She tried to send her to Zürich, where are you trying to send me?”

“Wherever you want,” your father said. “I was thinking Florence but…”

“Florence is a gorgeous city,” you said. “I’d love to see it sometime, maybe next Christmas.”

“Y/N.”

You gave him a small grin. “Hm?”

“It’s going to be safer for you if you just go away from the city for a while.”

“While you and Ian handle things?”

“While I handle things.”

“But Ian stays?” you insisted and he ran a hand over his face.

“Yes, but—”

“I’m not going,” you said, your voice firm. “Send him away if you want, but I’m not leaving the city when there’s a war coming.”

“I feel like you need to think about this,” your father said and you shook your head.

“I did think about it.”

“Y/N, I will feel much better if I know you’re away from danger, at least until the dust settles here.”

You sat up straighter, your heart pacing in your chest.

“Dad I can help,” you said. “With all this. You know I can.”

A look of realization dawned on his face.

“We’ve talked about this.”

“No we haven’t,” you insisted. “Not really. We keep ignoring it, ignoring the fact that you haven’t named a successor—”

“That’s because I’m not planning on retiring soon.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Others might believe that lie, but I do not.”

Your father heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off of his seat to come closer to you, then leaned back to his desk, crossing his arms.

“And please tell me, what is it that you want to hear from me right now?” he asked you and you shook your head.

“Don’t patronize me,” you said through your teeth. “You know what I’m capable of, you trained me for times like these. You know I’d make a much better heir than Ian—”

“Y/N, enough.”

“Just give me a chance to prove myself,” you insisted. “That’s all I’m asking. You don’t have to make me the head of all operations, but give me a chance to show you I can do this. I’ve already prepared a plan—”

“Let me stop you right there,” he said. “What you’re suggesting is absolutely out of question.”

Your jaw clenched. “Why?”

“We already have a plan.”

“Okay,” you let out an impatient breath. “Then you can tell me the plan and I’ll help.”

“No need, we have everything covered.”

You could feel the anger bubbling in your stomach but you dug your fingernails into your palm, reminding yourself to stay calm.

“Dad,” you said slowly. “You promised me.”

“And I promised your mother!” he snapped, making you stop talking. “I promised your mother that I would keep you safe, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

The bridge of your nose along with the back of your eyes started burning, a sure sign that the tears were on their way but you blinked fast a couple of times, biting at your tongue.

“That was your mother’s dying wish,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I’m not going to break my promise to her.”

You swallowed thickly. “Mom would want me to be happy.”

 “And you think this life would make you happy?” he asked you. “All this bloodshed, this violence?”

“I was born into bloodshed and violence,” you reminded him. “I’ve spent all my life in it. What, you think you can keep me safe by pushing me out of the picture?”

“It’s much safer than being in the middle of it.”

“For now,” you pointed out. “What about the future? I already know three families that will refuse to do business with Ian.”

Your father shrugged his shoulders. “It’s too early to worry about that. I’m not retiring anytime soon.”

“Dad, he wants to start a war.”

“He will see that war isn’t good for business,” he brushed you off. “He’s just very eager to prove himself right now, that’s all. He’s not going to start a war, don’t worry.”

You gritted your teeth and pursed your lips, glaring at him.

“You got your fire from me, your mother was much calmer,” he said with a small smile. “So I swear to you, I understand your frustration and anger very well. The crown you think you want right now? It’s way too dangerous sweetheart. You’ll see it in time that I’m making the right choice.”

The tears blurred your sight for a moment before you blinked them away and wetted your lips, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

“You’re not going to name me as your successor, are you?” you rasped out. “Nor will you let me prove myself.”

Your father held your gaze in his for a second, then shook his head.

“No.”

The disappointment hit you so hard that it made your head spin. This wasn’t news to you in any way, you had spent years watching your father treat Ian like his successor but actually hearing it from him was enough to make you want to scream. Anger rushed through you, boiling your blood and you bit your tongue hard enough to hurt, and nodded slowly.

“Okay,” you heard yourself say as you stood up, not even looking him in the eye and he took a deep breath.

“Honey…” he started but you walked out of his office without sparing him a glance, your whole body moving as if it was on autopilot. You got to the elevator and pressed the button, then stepped inside and watched the doors close, sniffling as you wiped at your eyes.

Very well then.

If your father didn’t want to give you power, you were going to take it for yourself.

                                               *

The address wasn’t exactly familiar to you seeing that you hadn’t been there before, but your driver knew the way. When you walked into the building and gave the reception your name, it took them less than a minute to guide you to the elevator, everyone around you rushing like they were instructed not to make you wait even for a second. When the elevator stopped at the top floor, a bodyguard led you to the door of the penthouse to knock on the door and you heard the footsteps coming closer before the door opened.

It looked like Bucky had dashed through the apartment to put his jeans on when they told him you were there, seeing that he was breathing quite fast. You let yourself run your gaze over his bare muscular torso, the tattoos over his chest catching your attention before your eyes snapped up to his, your heart skipping a beat.

God damn it, you almost forgot just how handsome he was.

“Charm,” he said, offering you a small smile. “Hi.”

“Hey there,” you said as you walked past him into the penthouse before he could invite you inside and he closed the door behind you.

“This is a nice surprise,” he said while you glanced around. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You took a deep breath and turned around to look at him better, your heart beating in your ears.

“Get rid of whoever is in your bedroom,” you said and shot him a sarcastic smile as you crossed your arms. “We need to talk about the wedding.”

Chapter 9

[nautiscarader]

Broken plates,broken promises

Wendip + Mabcifica, G, Ao3

Wendy Corduroy took another look at the décor of the room she was in, trying to absorb all the intricate details, even those covered in shadows created by subtle, atmospheric lighting.

"Wendy?", Dipper's slightly concerned voice brought Wendy back to her date. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh,yeah, sure.", she replied quickly, "I'm just flabbergasted how much work Mabel and Paz have put into this business."

Dipper followed her eyes, admiring the restaurant teeming with people, enjoying their meals.

"The best fancy restaurant in Falls."

"You mean, the only fancy restaurant", Wendy smirked. She wasn't exactly wrong. Aside from Lazy Susan's, where Pacifica took her first steps, there was only a pizza place,a sandwich shop and a hot dog stand, operated by very handsome rotweiller, catering exclusively to other canines.

"You sure I did not break any fashion rules?", Wendy asked suddenly.

"Wha-? No, you look gorgeous in that dress."

"Even if I ditched the fake belt for the utility one?"

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

Wendy smiled.

"Well, it is my only dress,so it's not like I had much choice."

"Ah", Dipper suddenly sat upright and corrected his tie "S-Speaking of that, you will be getting one more soon…"

"What do you-"

But it was too late for Wendy to stop her boyfriend. By the time he stood up, her heart was already racing, and when he dropped to one knee, she lost all the air in her lungs.

"Wendy Blerble Corduroy… will you make me-"

CRASH!

The two jumped in place, startled by sudden noise coming from the kitchen side. And as theirs, and everyone else's attention has be directed to the source of the noice, all they could see was Mabel Pines with tears in her eyes.

"YOU DIRTY CHEATER! YOU PROMISED!"

"Wha-what do you mean?", Dipper raised his hands in defensive gesture.

"YOU KNOW VERY WELL WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT!", Mabel kept roaring.

"What the he-"

The kitchen door opened, and Pacifica became frozen in place, as she tried to comprehend the situation,looking from Mabel,to the broken plates, to Dipper proposing, only then realising that every guest was looking at her.

"Er, we apologise for the commotion, I assure you there is nothing to-"

Paz paused for a moment.

"Actually, no,I take it back. WHAT THE HELLIS GOING ON?"

"He did it a day earlier!", Mabel complained. "And he didn't tell me!"

"I thought you'd notice! You deal with reservations!, Dipper countered, "And all the seats were taken for tomorrow, so I had to book today!"

"And who do you think booked all those?!", Mabel roared, " I made sure so that all our friends can have dinner tomorrow!"

"You haven't told me about it either!"

"Dipper, what part of 'well-planned surprise double proposal' is too difficult to understand?"

"Double proposal…?"

Mabel turned her head as Pacifica's quivering voice interrupted the argument.

"Oh, shoot.", Mabel started frantically looking around, until she spotted a colorful dessert on a nearby table.

"You haven't tasted this cupcake yet, right, sir?" Mabel addressed the astonished gentleman.

"N-No", he replied, unsure what was going to happen next.

"Great, we're gonna make you a new one"

Mabel quickly snatched the pink treat from the plate and faced her girlfriend, before dropping to one knee.

"Pacifica Northwest, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, preferably with huge, opulent AND DOUBLE WEDDING?", she threw the final words at her brother, still also on one knee.

"Alright, geez, Mabel, I'm sorry!"

Pacifica could not stop tears from running down her cheeks. She accepted the cupcake at the same time as emerald ring went onto Wendy's finger. The two couples were lost in long kisses, while the room erupted with cheers.

"I think that calls for champagne on the house, eh, Northwest?", Wendy addressed Pacifica from across the room.

"YOUR house, you mean", she snapped back, "You owe us for the plates. And the cupcake, Corduroy".

Pacifica threw her a cocky smile before licking some of the frosting from her lips.

[capricornwriter5]

Always on time - Chapter 16c

Pairing: Jooheon x female OC

Genre: childhood friends to enemies, enemies to friends, friends to lovers, smut (later chapters), fluff, angst, slow burn, idol AU!

Warning: mentions of mental health issues, mentions of workaholic disorder, curse words

Words: 3.1k

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Chapter 16c

"Miss Seo, we weren’t expecting you today, especially with company," said the club owner.

Julie and Jooheon had arrived at the club almost four hours ago. They had stopped for coffee on the way, so they arrived after 4 in the afternoon and asked the manager to let the Doh brothers know they wanted to see them. The owners took all the time they wanted until the staff finally moved them to a private room where the eldest of the brothers was.

"My niece is a fan of yours, Mr. Lee, would you mind giving me your autograph before you leave?"

"Sure, as soon as we resolve the misunderstanding, it will be a pleasure," Jooheon replied.

"I don’t think there’s any misunderstanding," Mr. Doh replied. "We gave our rental terms to Miss Seo and her team, that’s all".

"That is why we are here, Mr. Doh" Julie began, "to understand a little the arguments that support your new terms".

"Very simple: if I close my club, I lose money; if I lose money, I can’t pay the bills at the end of the month" began the owner. "I’m a man who always puts his business before anything, so you’ll understand that I need fair compensation if I’m going to take a risk".

"The initial amount was more than fair compensation," Julie continued. "We did our homework, Mr. Doh, and we know how the numbers move in your area of business".

"We also did our homework, Miss Seo," the club owner countered with a tone of voice that pleased neither Julie nor Jooheon. "I don’t have much interest in negotiating the terms I sent you, and before you think about finding another location, let me be a good colleague and let you know that you will not find another place to rent space at a lower price. Rumors fly, miss, and rumors of high society too".

"Excuse me?"

"I imagine your companion is trustworthy," said Mr. Doh, seeing Jooheon.

Julie was losing patience. Areum had spent all morning researching the place and when Julie called her to ask if she had found anything, her friend said no. Outside of some drunken fights, the place was quite popular among young people. They had recently remodeled one of the halls and had tried to promote the new section as an exclusive room, perfect for high-level executive meetings. However, although they were trying to change their image, people still saw it as a youngsters bar.

"Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of him" she declared.

"Well, in that case, and since it’s just the three of us, I’ll tell you what might make me rethink the terms I proposed to you," Doh began. "I guess the problem is the production budget, right? Although you always have a couple of thousand won in reserve for emergencies... Anyway, what I’m asking for is very simple and I imagine your fiancé won’t have a hard time doing you a favor, Miss Seo".

Engaged? Jooheon thought. Jules... has a fiancé? No, no, no, it can’t be that piece of a biped, can it? What the hell?

What the fuck is he talking about? Julie thought at the same time. This guy is an idiot.

"I’m sorry to tell you that I do not understand what you want from me, Mr. Doh" replied Julianne. "Although I think there has been a confusion..."

"No confusion and don’t worry, Miss Seo," the club owner cut her off. "I fully understand that in high society these things are handled with greater discretion, so my lips are sealed. I told you, we also did our homework. But don’t worry, the favor is very simple. We know that Mr. Lee Kang Dae’s company, your fiancé, has a monthly meeting with the biggest investors; that meeting is held at an exclusive club near here. All we ask is that you kindly convince Mr. Lee to do his next meeting at our club. With that, we can return to the initial terms of the contract".

 Everyone was silent for a few seconds.

"I cannot help you with your request, Mr. Doh," Julie replied, breaking the silence.

"Really?" said Mr. Doh surprised, though his tone was utterly sarcastic. "I understand that the first reaction is to refuse, but I am sure that Mr. Lee will be glad to know I found a simpler and cheaper solution after our talk".

"Excuse me?" Julianne asked. "What talk?"

"Ahhh, I guess you haven’t had time to chat," continued Mr. Doh. "You see, I sent you the new proposal yesterday morning, and what a surprise it was to receive a call hours later from a person claiming to be a general manager of your company asking to sign the original contract. He told me that if I did, I would receive two checks, one from Highlight Ent, and one from the Deputy Director with the difference. You will understand that everything seemed very strange to me, so I put my people to work and you can imagine how surprised I was to learn that behind it all was Sound Wave Entertainment, a small company recently acquired by your fiancé. Anyway, since I don’t like to do things halfway, I took the liberty of returning the call, and a very nice girl communicated me with Mr. Lee. He agreed to the terms, but I thought I could show that my intention is to build a more lasting business relationship and..."

"Like I said," Julianne cut him standing up, "I can’t help you. I’m sorry to tell you that your people do not have the correct information and I very much doubt that Kang-Dae-ssi was the person you spoke to. You see, he and I are neither engaged nor have any kind of close relationship; my private life is mine and I don’t have to explain it to anyone, but since your people are incompetent, I guess I’ll have to clarify the matter: Mr. Lee and I were in a formal relationship for five years, but that relationship ended recently. We haven’t had any type of contact since, and besides, Mr. Lee isn’t in the country, so no girl with a local number would have been able to connect you to his private line. Thank you for your time, but since we can’t reach an agreement, we’d better finish the meeting here. Excuse me".

Julie quickly left the room and Jooheon was right behind her. Mr. Doh tried to stop them from leaving, but Julianne was so upset that she was barely able to evade the people dancing around her.

Jooheon’s mind was blank. He knew he must not be happy, but joy invaded him when he heard that Jules had broken up with Kang-Dae, and was afraid that a smile would come off at the worst time. Calm down, Jooheon-ah, thought the rapper. Calm down, now the important thing is to see that Jules is okay.

They both got to the car and Julie’s phone started vibrating just as she opened the passenger door. It was Kang-Dae.

Julie didn’t want to answer. She was so angry that she felt like she was going to cry at any moment. However, she needed to vent her anger and this call confirmed that what she had heard was true. There are no coincidences in life.

"You know, oppa, a few years ago you were smarter," Julianne replied in an acid-filled voice. "You would have never made things so obvious".

Jooheon stood still with his hand on the driver’s door. He stared at Julie, but she had turned her back and Jooheon could see how tense she was. He was also tense, didn’t know what to do or what to say, and couldn’t believe that idiot called her either.

"And why should I listen to you?" Julie kept screaming. Jooheon couldn’t hear what Kang-Dae was saying on the phone, so he could only guess the parts of the conversation. "No, I don’t care at all. I don’t care if you thought you had a good reason to, in the first place, have someone follow me... Do you think I’m an idiot? Do you think I don’t know how you work? You and all the monkeys in suits around you are always the same...  I can say whatever I want! And I have every right to be angry!... Are you aware of how ridiculous you sound? What you did is almost industrial espionage... don’t you dare tell me I exaggerate... there’s no other way you knew what I was doing. Areum would never have talked to you, and just so you know, I know all the times you called her and... I don’t care about that! To be very clear, Lee Kang-Dae, you have no right to spy on my public or private life, my job is mine and in the years we were together I never asked you to pull your strings, what made you think I would appreciate you meddling in my affairs now? I don’t want to hear excuses or reasons, don’t intervene, don’t help me, don’t call me, nothing. If it’s a success or if it’s a failure I want it to be mine, not someone else’s, and keep your worries to yourself. We’re not together anymore, so my personal image shouldn’t affect yours. At the end of the day, that was what mattered most to you, right? So leave me alone. We’re done and I have nothing more to say to you".

Julie hung up the phone and Jooheon stayed where he was waiting for her to calm down. He could hear Julie’s deep breaths and knew the girl was holding back tears, as her voice broke a little before hanging up.

Before the rapper could do or say anything, Julie turned around and entered the car. Jooheon also entered and saw Julianne put on her belt, rest her head on the back of the seat and close her eyes.

She didn’t say anything and Jooheon didn’t ask. He just started the engine and started driving.

After driving quietly for about 20 minutes, Julie opened her eyes and turned on the radio. She set up a random station and they both kept going with the background music.

"I’m sorry you had to hear that," Julie said after a while.

"You shouldn’t apologize for anything in this situation, Jules," Jooheon said. "If anyone has the right to explode, it’s you."

"Still not my best moment," she continued.

"On the contrary," Jooheon said. "I mean, the situation sucks, but what did you say on the phone? UUFFFF, that was great!"

Julie just laughed dryly, and Jooheon continued:

"I’m serious. I mean, that was a knock-out, Jules, he never saw it coming and he had no way to defend himself. Besides, you have to teach me to talk that fast, in all my years in this industry, I have NEVER heard anyone spit out syllables so fast and so accurately, AND WITHOUT BREATHING!"

Julie laughed again, but this time it was a genuine laugh. She felt empty, had no energy to do anything and just wanted to be alone, but they still had an hour to go.

At that moment, she received a message from Areum telling her that they already knew how to rent the park they had seen. When reading the message, she realized the time, it was almost 9 pm, the night was beautiful and it was Saturday: it was the perfect day to go on a date.

Julie was convinced something was going on between Areum and Jooheon. While it is true that the rumors she had heard in the bathroom were a little exaggerated, everything seemed to click too well and she was convinced that she had found all the clues and subtle signs that both had tried to hide. While the idea did not make her entirely happy, neither would she lose her friend to a guy.

"I’m sorry you had to spend your Saturday night like this," Julie told Jooheon.

"Nah, Jules, I told you, you don’t have to apologize for anything," he replied. "Besides, I think it was a productive day, despite everything".

"Yes, well... although I’m sure one night with Areum-ah would have been more fun," Julianne continued. In her head, she was being subtle, although clearly that was not her strong suit.

"Auch, Jules, it hurts," Jooheon said, not understanding Julie’s message. "I know she’s your best friend, but I’m not bad, you know?"

"Yes, yes, yes..."

"Also!" the rapper continued. "I was your friend long before Areum-ah. Did you forget when I defended you in kindergarten from the kids who laughed at you for the way you drank your juice?"

"Defend me?" said Julie. "If I remember correctly, I ended up defending YOU because someone thought he could win against 4 older children"

"That’s not important here. My point is that we were friends long before Areum-ah moved to the neighborhood..."

"Okay, well, I give up... we’re not in kindergarten, you know?"

"You were the one who said that hanging out with Areum-ah would be more fun than hanging out with me," Jooheon grumbled at the wheel.

"I meant you," Julie said softly. She was taking a risk, and saying the words didn’t make her very happy either, but she wasn’t going to stop there. "I bet you would have had a better time with Areum-ah."

The comment took Jooheon completely by surprise. He looked back at Julie and the girl’s look confused him even more. She was waiting for him to say something, but the rapper did not know what, so he just remained silent for a few minutes.

"Jules, if you open the hand compartment in front of you, you will find a wallet," Jooheon said. "Can you open it?"

Julie did what the rapper asked. When she opened the wallet, she saw that it was full of old, yellow, and wrinkled papers.

"Yah, Jooheon-ah, you should improve your cleaning habits," mocked Julie. "You have pure garbage here"

"None of that is garbage" defended Jooheon. "Don’t wrinkle or throw anything away".

"It is impossible to wrinkle these papers more than they already are".

"It’s not my fault" he continued. "Years ago Kihyun-hyung had an obsessive lapse and started throwing out a lot of things we had in the dorm. You can’t imagine what I had to do to get those papers back, and I’ve been hiding them here ever since".

"Well, what do you want them for?"

"There is a triangle-shaped folded paper. It is grey and the paper is thick".

"This?"

"That" said Jooheon excited. "Unfold it".

Julie did what he asked without knowing why and when she opened the paper she found a very familiar drawing. She had sent it to Jooheon by fan mail after the first Monsta X concert. She remembered watching videos of the guys' presentations on the internet and, although at the time her grudge against the rapper had not gone down, as a friend she felt incredibly proud, so she decided to draw a portrait of Jooheon and send it to him.

Julie had completely forgotten about that drawing. It was probably one of the last ones she did before her father died, and she felt incredibly embarrassed after sending him.

"I did get it, Jules" Jooheon said after a few minutes. "You sent it to me after our first concert... as you promised you would".

At that time, Julie remembered the promise she had made to the Jooheon while they were still in school:

"Come on, Juleeees" Jooheon begged. "Make me a portrait, will you? This is my best profile".

"Jooheon-ah, I don’t have time" she replied. "I have homework to do and final exams are coming up and..."

"Come ooooooon, tell me you willllllll"

"No".

"But you’ve drawn all your friends and your family," Jooheon complained. "It’s my turn, I’m the only one without a portrait".

"Jooheon-ah, I can do it later and..."

"We may not be able to see each other later," Jooheon insisted. "The reality show is about to begin and if I am among the selected, I will debut, I will become famous and we will not be able to see each other for a while...  Who knows for how long?! And you won’t be able to see my face up close to see how handsome I am".

"Look, how about this?" Julie proposed. "You let me study quietly and after exams..."

"After the exams, the reality show will be over and..."

"AFTER THE EXAMS... if you remain a common mortal, you will have your portrait," promised Julie. "And if you’re an idol by then, I’ll go to a performance of your group and draw you on stage... deal?"

"Deal".

Julie had also forgotten that promise, but maybe that explained why she needed to make that drawing at the time.

"Actually, after our debut, I was waiting for your drawing" Jooheon began. "I mean, we didn’t have much freedom to communicate with other people, but I always thought that one day I would open my eyes and there it would be".

Jooheon waited a few minutes for Julie to say something, but as the girl was silent, he continued.

"You can imagine my surprise a year later when Minhyuk-hyung opened an anonymous letter that had that drawing inside," Jooheon continued. "They bothered me for days for being a narcissist... especially because I didn’t even let them touch the paper".

"How? I didn’t..." Julie began quietly.

"I just have to see it to know it’s yours," he replied. "Don’t even try to deny it, Jules. We may have changed a lot over the years, but you’re still you, and I’m still me... The important things haven’t changed between us, as much as you want to deny it".

A couple of tears came down Julie’s cheeks and she cleaned them up fast.

"Why show me this?" she asked. "You could’ve just told me you had it".

"Receiving that was one of the happiest times I’ve ever had," Jooheon said without directly answering Julianne’s question. "I don’t know if you knew, but you sent it to me at a very difficult time for us, and knowing that you were watching and supporting us made me want to do better... Whenever I needed encouragement, you gave it to me, Jules. And I wouldn’t have preferred anyone else to, just you... because a lot of my best memories are with you, Jules, not with anyone else. And right now, I wouldn’t choose to be with anyone else".

Julie didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know what to feel, as she was very confused by what had happened in the last few days and by what was happening at that moment, so she preferred to re-fold the drawing and put everything where it was before.

She just laid her head back and closed her eyes.

« Previous  Next »

[hrina]

Be Sweet, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M (minors dni!) WORD COUNT: 6k

hey everyone! here's part one of my new enemies-to-lovers series :) this fic will be five parts in total, but i'm only posting the first part on tumblr. you'll be able to read the rest of it on patreon if you wanna sign up!

as always, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated. i love hearing your thoughts! enjoy.

~*~

August 27th, 2021

“Who’s opening tomorrow?”

Ella scrubs a wet rag across the table closest to the door. You cast a furtive glance up at her, flipping absentmindedly through the jumble of papers on the counter in front of you. Nick’s messy scrawl catches your eye, and you pause, reading the haphazard comment written at the bottom of the page.

Customer requested a very specific shade of pink trim. See back for details.

You flip the order, scoffing at the Pantone strip taped to the other side. The square labelled Quartz Pink has been singled out, encircled in bright red. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Alice and Olly, I think,” you say, shoving the form to the bottom of the pile.

“That’s good,” Ella grunts, returning the napkin holder and the sugar dispenser back to their spots on the table. “And you’ll swing by sometime during the afternoon?”

“Yeah,” you say, drumming your fingers over the papers. “I’m gonna help Olly in the back. You know how much he hates dealing with fondant.”

“How could I forget?” Ella rolls her eyes, smiling to herself. You grimace when she tosses the damp cloth in your direction. It lands on the counter with a loud splat! You nudge it away with your elbow, shaking your head.

“Gross.”

“You’re gross,” Ella says.

“I’m lovely,” you reply. She grins.

“Where’s Alex taking you tonight?” you ask, changing the subject. Her eyes light up instantly, and she clasps her hands together against her chest.

“It’s a surprise,” she says, giggling girlishly.

You groan. “I hate surprises.”

“It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend, then, isn’t it?” she retorts. You snicker, and she continues: “He told me we should stop off at home to change, though, so I’m guessing that wherever it is, there’s a dress code.”

“Ooh, fancy.”

“Right?” She twists her wrist, peeking at her watch. “He should have been here by now. It’s already a quarter past seven.”

“The hospital is just down the street,” you remind her, organising the mountain of orders into a neat stack. “Give him another five minutes.”

She nods. You spin on your heel and push through the door leading to the backroom of the bakery. The large space is split into two sections: on your right, there’s a wall of ovens, and a cluster of metal racks filled with pale, unprocessed dough. On your left, tables and counters lined with all sorts of decorating necessities—piping bags, spatulas, scrapers, turntables. You make your way toward the small cabinet perched against the nearest wall and pull out the top drawer, sliding the orders inside. Olly should have no trouble locating them tomorrow morning.

When you return to the front of the shop, Ella is locked in a passionate embrace with a gangly, dark-haired man. You recognise him immediately.

“Doctor Dao,” you call out, resting your elbows on the counter. “Did you at least wash your hands before putting them all over my best friend?”

Alex and Ella break apart swiftly, but he keeps one arm wrapped around her waist. “Hey, cookie,” he says, flashing you an apologetic grin. “Didn’t see you there.”

You arch one brow, lips curling into an amused smirk. “I’ll say.”

Only then do you catch sight of the other man lingering by the door, and your smile quickly morphs into an irritated frown. Harry is watching you with twinkling eyes, like he knows the effect his presence has on you. How could he not? You don’t try to hide your disdain, especially when it comes to him.

“Harry,” you say curtly, lifting your chin in stubborn acknowledgement.

He brings two fingers to his temple—a mock-salute. “Sweetheart.”

You clench your jaw. God, he makes your blood boil. Rather than responding, you turn back to Alex, who is now smoothing his palms over Ella’s silky brown hair. “You’re late,” you tell him. “You were supposed to be here when we closed.”

“Sorry, cookie,” Alex says, and he sounds like he means it. “My last surgery of the day had a few…complications.”

You purse your lips as the annoyance melts away. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He nods, blowing out a heavy breath. He looks tired. “We figured it out.”

“That’s good.”

Alex directs his attention back to Ella, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “Just let me grab my bag.”

“Cool,” he says. “You don’t mind if we drop Harry off at his place, right? His car is fucked, apparently.”

Ella’s grey eyes widen. She peers over her boyfriend’s shoulder at Harry. “What happened?”

Harry waves away her concerns, chuckling quietly. He tugs on the collar of his blue scrubs, and you can’t stop your gaze from trailing across the plethora of tattoos inked into his arm. Your nose wrinkles at the sight. He looks ridiculous. What kind of doctor would agree to don such outrageous body art?

“He’s being dramatic,” Harry says, shooting Alex a pointed glare. “My car’s at the shop right now, but I’ll have it back by tomorrow evening at the latest.”

“Oh.” Ella relaxes. “Okay, that’s great. Babe—” She turns to Alex. “—when are our reservations?”

“Eight-thirty,” Alex says. “Plenty of time.”

“Awesome,” she chirps. She scurries around the counter and playfully bumps her hip against yours. “My purse is in the back. Give me one second.”

And then she’s gone.

You stare at Alex, fighting a clever smile. “Tonight’s the night, huh?” you murmur, quiet enough so that there’s no chance of Ella overhearing.

He beams, shouldering his knapsack and dragging his sweaty palms down the front of his shirt. His scrubs are a light purple, you note. The shade compliments his dark skin.

“Yeah,” he replies, gnawing anxiously on his bottom lip. “She’ll say yes, right?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “Of course she will.”

Just then, Ella bursts through the door, her leather purse swinging wildly against her waist. “Alright!” She claps once, striding over to you and planting a wet, sloppy kiss onto your cheek. “I’m off.”

“Bye,” you say, wiping her saliva from your face with the back of your hand. “Have fun.”

Alex waves at you as she tugs him out of the bakery. “See you later, cookie.”

You wink. “See you.”

Harry is the last one to leave. He glances at you momentarily, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smug smile. The look makes you bristle. He’s absolutely infuriating.

“Got any leftover almond croissants?” he asks. Silent laughter taints every word.

You point to the exit. “Get out.”

He bows his chin in farewell, approaching the door. “Sweetheart.”

“Asshole,” you reply flatly. Now that your friends are out of earshot, you’re under no obligation to tolerate him. Sometimes, you find yourself actually craving his company, just so you can drop the pretence and really give him a piece of your mind. You’re a mature adult, and you won’t ruin a social gathering because of one presumptuous dickhead, but everyone has their limits. You don’t owe him shit.

Harry chuckles to himself, and you clench your fists at your sides. He shoots you one last maddening smirk before disappearing out the door. You rush forward, latching it swiftly and ensuring that the sign against the glass reads ‘CLOSED’. Once you’ve successfully locked up, you march into the back of the shop, plucking your own purse off one of the metal counters and tugging it over your shoulder. You shut the light and return to the front, scanning the clean tables, the empty display cases, the shades drawn over the windows. Shards of the sunset stream through the cracks in the blinds, casting orange stripes along the floor.

All clear, a voice in your head whispers, and you sigh.

Finally—you can go home.

August 28th, 2021

Quick, frantic knocking rouses you from your sleep. Blearily, you sit up on the mattress, knuckling at your puffy eyes. The hardwood floor is cold against the soles of your feet when you climb out of bed. You shiver.

The insistent clamour continues as you pad down the hallway. You tug at the hem of your worn, baggy t-shirt, concealing your midriff. Ella wastes no time after you open the front door, surging past the threshold and vaulting herself into your arms.

“He proposed!” she squeals as the two of you stagger backward. You freeze, remembering Alex’s plans from the day before. His apprehension, too—the way he wiped his clammy palms against his scrubs and anxiously dug his teeth into his bottom lip. Shock ebbs and flows through your veins for a fraction of a second, but then you’re sweeping Ella into a tight hug, rocking your bodies from side to side.

“Oh my God,” you say. Excitement festers beneath the murky exhaustion clouding your mind. “He did it.”

Ella steps back, brows knitting together in bewilderment. “You knew?” When you nod, she scoffs, aiming a half-hearted swat at your bicep. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?” you retort, rolling your eyes at the demand. “Come on. Let’s see it.”

A bright grin stretches across her lips, and she holds up her left hand, wiggling her fingers keenly. You spy the ring resting on the fourth digit: a simple platinum band topped with a large, clear diamond. Grey morning light bounces off the gemstone, and it winks at you as if it knows something that you don’t.

“Gorgeous,” you breathe, gripping Ella’s wrist to bring her hand closer. You scrutinize the ring carefully, smiling to yourself. “He’s got good taste.”

“Doesn’t he?” she gushes, beaming like an idiot. You beckon her into the kitchen, and she collapses onto one of the tall stools positioned in front of the marble island. A quick glance at the digital clock on the stove reveals that it’s only eight in the morning. You groan, rubbing gentle circles against your temples.

“I was hoping I’d get to sleep in today,” you say, lips curling into a wry smirk.

Ella shoots you a sheepish, apologetic smile, sliding her purse off her shoulder and placing it on the counter. “I’m sorry, cookie. I couldn’t wait.”

“I’m just kidding,” you tell her, floating around the room to prepare a pot of coffee. “So…how did he do it?”

She launches into a frenzied retelling of the night before. Alex brought her to the same restaurant they’d visited four years ago on their first date. They ordered their food and made conversation. Things proceeded as usual until the end of the meal, at which point Alex set his napkin down on the table and excused himself to the restroom. Two minutes later, the waiter arrived with the bill. Ella accepted it graciously, scanning the thin paper and pausing at the question scrawled at the very bottom of the slip. When she snapped her head up, searching for her boyfriend in the crowded dining area, she found him kneeling a few feet away from her chair, a small velvet box nestled securely in his steady hands.

“I started crying immediately,” she tells you, groaning at the memory. “I couldn’t keep it together. It was so embarrassing.”

You toss your head back and laugh. Despite the crimson blush staining her cheeks, she joins in. The coffeemaker beeps, signalling that the pot is ready. You fetch two mugs from the cupboard and fill them with dark liquid. Ella accepts her drink eagerly, blowing cool air across its surface. You grimace as she takes a tentative sip—you’ve never understood her penchant for unsweetened black coffee. Sugar and cream are a must.

“I’m so happy for you, El,” you tell her, stirring a small spoon around your mug. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.”

Her eyes grow damp. You snicker quietly, reaching across the island and swiping your thumb beneath her bottom lashes. She catches your hand and kisses your knuckles softly, clearing her throat.

“Will you—?” She releases a shuddering breath. “Will you be my maid of honour?”

You stiffen at her request. Her gaze rakes over your face, like she’s searching for any clue as to how you might respond. At last, your shoulders sag in relief, and an ecstatic smile splits across your cheeks.

“Of course,” you say, voice thick. Tears gather in your own eyes, but you blink them back furiously. “I would love nothing more.”

She sets her coffee down and skirts around the counter, yanking you into another bone-crushing hug. You grin as she presses a handful of sloppy kisses to the side of your head. Her elbow knocks against your abandoned mug, and a few drops of coffee spill down the side of the cup. You laugh at her enthusiasm, pulling back and sweeping your hands over her silky hair.

“It’s probably way too soon, but have you guys started discussing anything?” you ask, arching one eyebrow.

Ella flushes pink, averting her gaze. “Um…when we got home, there wasn’t really much of a discussion going on.”

You cackle, poking at her ribs. “Oh, he gave it to you good, didn’t he? It’s a miracle that you’re not limping right now.”

“Be quiet,” she yelps, stamping her eyes shut.

You lift your hands and shoot her a teasing smirk. “I’m not judging, okay? If anything, I’m living vicariously through your various sexual conquests. It’s been months since I last got any action.”

“Maybe that should change,” Ella says, folding her arms over her chest. “You and Harry could probably fuck out your frustrations. His dick is huge, apparently.”

You balk. “Ella!”

She shrugs, grey eyes widening comically. “What? Alex told me!”

You snort, but say nothing. She watches you cautiously, examining your features for any signs of acquiescence. Any indication that you might actually be considering her lewd suggestion. You almost gag.

“Why do you hate him so much, anyway?” Ella asks, flicking an invisible speck of lint off her shoulder. “You’re not still hung up on that fiasco with the almond croissant, are you?”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” you say, and she sighs.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But can you at least try to be civil while we plan the wedding? For my sake.”

After mulling over her words, you slouch in defeat. “Fine. But only for you,” you say, throwing a stern finger in her face.

She beams. “Thank you.” Something dirty flashes behind her pale eyes. “And if you do end up sleeping with him, I want all the details.”

You shove her gently and scoff. She laughs.

“Honestly,” you start, shaking your head, “it doesn’t matter how huge his dick is. I’d rather walk across hot coals than let somebody like him climb into my bed.”

“What makes you think it wouldn’t be the other way around?” Ella snickers. You glare at her, but she just steps back, raising her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, fine. Have it your way. But I’m expecting you to find someone in time for the big day. Don’t let your plus-one go to waste.”

You roll your eyes, thoroughly unconvinced. “Noted.”

September 2nd, 2021

“Olly!” you call, sticking your head into the backroom. “Ella and I are going on our lunch break, but Leyla will be here in, like, twenty minutes. You going to be okay by yourself until then?”

Olly doesn’t even bother looking over his shoulder, too busy piping little flowers along the sides of the rectangular cake laid out in front of him. He lifts one hand, waving away your concerns before running his palm over his short blue hair. He buzzed and dyed it just last week after claiming that he couldn’t stand how the long brown curls stuck to the nape of his neck. It took a few days to get used to the change, but now that the initial shock has faded, you have to admit that he looks great.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Olly says, putting the finishing touches on the cake. He sets his piping bag down and turns toward you, wiping his palms against his red apron. His left ear bears a swirl of shiny silver piercings. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Thanks,” you say, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and then you’re spinning on your heel and letting the door swing shut behind you.

You find Ella waiting outside the bakery. She urges you along, and you squawk at her impatience.

“What’s the rush?” you ask, falling into step with her as you both amble down the sidewalk. “We have forty-five minutes.”

“I don’t want Alex’s sandwich to get cold,” she explains, holding up the small paper bag clutched in her right hand. You snort.

The two of you make it to Ridgefield Hospital in record time, mostly because Ella grips your arm and gives it a forceful tug whenever you start lagging behind. You walk through the automatic doors, ignoring the row of ambulances parked outside. The secretaries sitting at the front desk shoot you a few distracted smiles—they’ve all grown accustomed to your frequent visits by now.

Ella babbles endlessly as you enter the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor and waiting as the metal doors slide shut.

“I want to ask Alice and Leyla to be part of the bridal party, but I’m scared the guys will feel bad if Alex doesn’t choose them as his groomsmen. Like, I think they’d understand, considering I work with the girls and we’re all pretty close, but I don’t know.” She nudges you with her elbow. “What do you think?”

“I think you should do whatever the fuck you want,” you tell her, shrugging. “It’s your wedding. And I don’t think Olly, Marcus, or Nick will mind if they’re not part of the bridal party. Olly doesn’t care about that stuff, and Marcus and Nick already have their hands full with their jobs at the bakery. Plus, they know Alex has his own friends—not just the ones he’s met through you.”

Ella nibbles on her bottom lip, her head bobbing in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You lay a placid hand on her shoulder. “You’re already overthinking this. You’ve only been engaged for a week. Enjoy it.”

She shoots you a grateful smile just as the elevator dings and the doors glide open, and the two of you step out onto the hospital’s paediatric floor. It’s a stark contrast to the other sections of the building. Instead of barren white walls, these ones are painted with all sorts of pretty, colourful decorations—flowers, rainbows, sunsets, animals. A massive sign in front of you denotes the different divisions on the floor and where to find them: the ICU, the operating rooms, the palliative unit, the psychiatry wing, and the oncology department. You and Ella turn right, making the familiar trek to Alex’s office.

“He should be on his lunch break, too,” she says. “Unless they paged him for another emergency surgery.”

You hum in response.

Sure enough, you find Alex at his desk, twirling a blue pen between his fingers as he pores over the stack of papers in front of him. Ella knocks gently against the open door, and his face lights up when he spies her standing in the threshold. He moves quickly, crossing the room in five long strides, and plants a searing kiss onto her lips. You look away, rocking awkwardly on the balls of your feet.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs after he and Ella break apart. That’s when he notices you behind her. “Hey, cookie.”

“Hey,” you reply. You toss your thumb over your shoulder. “I’m just going to—you know, the usual.”

He nods.

The last thing you see before you turn around is Ella holding up the brown paper bag, and Alex’s face splitting into a bright, easy smile.

You meander through the halls, trailing your fingers over the rich artwork covering the walls. The end of the corridor cleaves in two; you turn left and enter a large atrium. The ceiling is high and peppered with skylights. A small cafeteria sits off to the side, clusters of families chatting and laughing together as they eat. Children sprint around the space, their arms outstretched. Some of them are dressed in normal clothes—others don pale hospital gowns, their skinny legs bared for all to see. You wrench your attention away from them, fixing it instead on the far wall.

Slowly, you cross the room, surveying the vibrant handprints stamped against the plaster. There has to be hundreds of them, you think. They vary in size—some are so tiny you could cry. Colour becomes scarcer the higher you go—the youngest children are too short to reach those levels, obviously—but still. The sight takes your breath away. You visit this mural every time you find yourself at the hospital, and every time, you unearth a new detail that you hadn’t noticed before.

You walk along the length of the wall, dragging your fingertips across the dry, smooth paint. Purples and pinks and oranges and blues. Reds, greens, yellows, browns. Each handprint is a person—a pair of little feet that scuffled over this very floor, a blank story that had yet to unfold. Briefly, you wonder how many survived whatever illnesses plagued them, and how many succumbed to their conditions. The thought makes your throat grow tight with emotion, so you quickly shove it aside.

Ten minutes pass before you’re leaving the mural behind and heading back the way you came. You’ve just rounded the corner when a strong, solid body barrels into you. You grunt at the impact, smacking one palm against the wall to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you start, lifting your head to meet the stranger’s gaze. “I wasn’t paying—oh.”

Harry smirks, his green eyes glittering with mirth once he recognises you. You purse your lips, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Harry,” you say, nodding stiffly.

He folds his arms over his chest. “Sweetheart.”

His brown hair is tousled, and his biceps strain against the white button-up adorning his torso. Black slacks cover his legs, and he’s wearing a pair of pristine leather shoes, ones that look like they might’ve cost a month’s worth of rent. Your teeth grate together noisily. The sound echoes in your ears.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks, as though the two of you are old friends. You want to scoff—you’d rather stick your hand in an oven than make idle conversation with him.

“Visiting Alex,” you say tightly, stepping back. “Ella brought him lunch.”

At that, Harry straightens. “Ella’s here?”

“Yes.”

“I wish I’d run into her,” he murmurs, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

You throw him a scowl. “Asshole.”

Harry cocks one eyebrow, tilting his chin haughtily. “Forgive me if I prefer her company to yours. At least she doesn’t treat me like I’m some insufferable bastard.”

“Maybe if you stopped being such an insufferable bastard, I wouldn’t treat you like one,” you shoot back, planting your hands on your hips. You tense as Harry’s gaze rakes down your body—head to toe, like he’s sizing up an opponent. His nose wrinkles in disdain, and you fight the urge to deliver a sharp, backhanded slap across that pretty, perfect face.

Harry opens his mouth, and you brace yourself for whatever retort he has prepared. What comes out is nothing overtly nasty, but it is enough to make you want to shrink away and curl into yourself until you wink out of existence.

“You smell like yeast,” he says, and tosses in a derisive sniff just for the added effect.

You recoil as the words slam into you, blinking in shock.

Asshole. Rude, arrogant, condescending asshole.

“I own a bakery,” you grit out. Harry shrugs, but says nothing else. Your lips flap wordlessly as he pushes past you, his shoulder bumping against yours. You watch him go, massaging the tender spot on your arm with shaky fingers. Your eyes fall to his ass for only a moment before skittering away, and a hollow laugh catches in your throat.

What a fucking prick.

September 17th, 2021

“Attention, everyone!” Ella stands at the head of the table, clinking her fork delicately against her glass. “I wanted to make a little toast.”

The conversation around you tapers off into silence. You sit back in your chair, focussing on your best friend. She looks splendid in her pretty blue dress, her dark hair twisted into an elaborate knot at the nape of her neck. She peers around the room, chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek. When her gaze locks with yours, you grant her a tiny, encouraging nod.

She beams, her next words imbued with renewed enthusiasm. “I wanted to thank all of you for coming here tonight to celebrate our engagement with us.” She holds out her hand, and Alex presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “We’re so grateful to be sharing this milestone with such a wonderful group of people.”

You inspect the other guests gathered around the table. To your right sit Alice and Leyla, the first employees you hired when you were trying to get your business up off the ground. It’s odd seeing them like this—poised and elegant, looking nothing at all like they do during the long, arduous shifts at the bakery. Alice’s blond hair has been fashioned into an intricate braid, and Leyla’s brown eyes are lined with dark kohl and smoky eyeshadow. They clean up nice, you must admit.

Next to Leyla: Ella’s older sister, Hillary. They have the same piercing grey eyes, though Hillary’s hair is a shade lighter. You didn’t miss the sour expression that trundled across her face when you waltzed into Alex and Ella’s condo. She’s jealous, you think. Jealous that Ella chose you as her maid of honour instead of her. You’ve been ignoring her resentful glares for the better half of the night, letting her bitterness pass over you like a cloud. Whatever her problem is, it’s clear that the issue lies between her and her sister. You’re not getting in the middle of that.

It doesn’t help that she’s been fawning over Harry all evening. Upon witnessing her coquettish behaviour, you glanced at Ella, brows raised, but your best friend just rolled her eyes and yielded a helpless shrug of her shoulders. At least the attraction didn’t appear to be one-sided—that would have been humiliating, you think—because Harry gave as good as he got, chuckling sincerely and flirting right back. You had to suppress the urge to retch, and sent out a quiet prayer of gratitude when Ella and Alex sat them as far away from each other as possible at the beginning of the meal.

On the opposite side of the table: Alex’s groomsmen—Milo, Sasha, and Connor. You’ve been in their company a few times, mainly on birthdays and other special occasions. According to Alex, they all met when Milo accidentally vomited during their very first anatomy lesson at medical school. Milo insists that the putrid smell of the cadavers was simply too awful to bear, but everyone else claims that he just couldn’t stand the idea of being so close to a dead body. No matter the truth, the story always makes you giggle. The four of them have been good friends ever since.

The five of them, you remind yourself as your gaze settles on Harry, who is lounging in the chair directly across from you.

Harry—Alex’s best friend. Harry—Alex’s best man.

You wanted to rip your hair from your scalp when Ella broke the news. Several images flashed through your head all at once. You and Harry inching rigidly down the aisle, arms linked. You and Harry donning the same colours, your gown complimenting the spry flower pinned to the lapel of his suit. You and Harry flanking Ella and Alex while they recite their vows, glaring daggers at each other behind your friends’ backs. Even now, the mere thought of it has you biting down on an exasperated groan.

You don’t realise that you’ve zoned out until the faint quirk of Harry’s mouth catches your eye. You blink once to yank yourself from your daze, and clench your jaw when you find him staring at you with an amused look on his face. He places his elbows against the arms of the chair and clasps his hands together. Unmistakable smugness emanates from him, as if he somehow managed to crawl inside your mind and saw exactly what you were envisioning. Your nostrils flare, and you fix your attention back on Ella, who has reached the end of her speech.

“Cheers,” she says, holding up her glass. The champagne inside sloshes and fizzles temptingly. Would she allow you to chug the entire bottle, if you asked?

Everyone around the table mirrors her movements, raising their own drinks and touching them together lightly. Quiet, delicate clanking fills the room, and the friendly chatter resumes. You nudge Ella with your elbow, shooting her a proud smile. “That was great, El.”

She beams. “Thanks, cookie.” She then picks up her fork and motions to the plate in front of her, piled high with seasoned chicken and steaming, roasted vegetables. “Let’s eat.”

~*~

“Are you sure you’ve got him?” Alex asks Sasha, gesturing to the very inebriated Connor wobbling at his side.

Sasha wraps one arm around their friend, letting Connor rest his full weight against him. He bares two rows of perfect ivory teeth, flashing a wicked grin. “Yeah. Besides, I’ve been meaning to pay him back for the shit he pulled at the barbecue last month. There’s a Sharpie in my car.”

“You’re going to draw a dick on his face, aren’t you?” Alex muses.

“Obviously.”

With that, Alex bids them both farewell, shutting the door and heaving a dramatic sigh. Ella approaches him after a moment, hooking her chin over his shoulder and murmuring something indiscernible into his ear. He chuckles softly.

“Didn’t peg you as the voyeur type, sweetheart,” a low voice says from behind you.

You jump, whirling around and coming face-to-face with Harry. He’s got a green washcloth slung over his left shoulder—the shade brings out his eyes, a traitorous voice in your head whispers—and his arms are folded neatly across his chest. Your gaze falls to the collar of his black button-up, where he’s undone the first two discs, leaving his sternum exposed. Tendrils of ink peek out from beneath the dark material.

You frown and take a step back, putting distance between your bodies. “You’re such an asshole.”

“So I’ve heard.” His lips twitch, and he rolls up his sleeves. “Now, if you’re done ogling them like a lovestruck puppy, I could use some help in the kitchen.”

You grit your teeth, but follow him into the other room. Harry grabs the rag hanging over his shoulder and holds it out for you. You snatch it from his fingers without a word, and the two of you take up residence in front of the sink. Harry plunges his hands into the soapy water, rinsing the dishes thoroughly before passing them to you. You stand as far away from him as possible while you dry each plate, your movements stiff and choppy. This is not how you wanted to finish off the night, but Alex and Ella spent the entire day preparing the food, and it was delicious. The least you can do is spare them the hassle of tidying up.

The tense silence eats at you, until you feel like you might explode. Unable to bear it any longer, you hastily blurt, “Saw you getting pretty cozy with Hillary before dinner.”

Immediately, you want to kick yourself. Where the fuck did that come from?

Harry snorts, shrugging coolly. “We’ve hooked up a few times, but it’s nothing serious.” He shoots you a mischievous grin. “You jealous?”

“Of Hillary?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Please. The woman’s standards are practically underground. Why else would she be interested in someone like you?”

Harry scowls, and hot satisfaction surges through your veins. Yes, the taunt was mean, but no, you don’t care. “You’re a real bitch sometimes, you know that?” he says.

You flash him a petty, insincere smile. “Only to you.”

He squeezes the yellow sponge nestled in his right hand, scrubbing it forcefully across a dirty plate. “Maybe you should find someone to hook up with. It might help get that stick out of your ass.”

“I have better things to do,” you sneer, narrowing your eyes.

“Better than sex?” He chokes on a derisive laugh.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

“Like…things!” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists. “I run my own business, for God’s sake. And I’m going to make Ella’s wedding cake.” You announce the last part proudly, hauling your chin into the air.

Harry, however, looks unimpressed. He shakes his head, blowing out a heavy sigh. “Uh-oh.”

You pause. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs again, but you detect a hint of malice behind the action. “It’s just…I’ve seen the way you decorate cakes. Ella might be better off going elsewhere—you know, to an actual professional.”

Son of a—

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you say, motioning to the mismatched tattoos littered across his arm. “What would you know about professionalism? It looks like you let a preschooler doodle all over you.”

Harry bares his teeth in a feral grin. “Deflection. I’m not surprised.”

You bristle at his words. “Asshole.”

“You’ll need to get a bit more creative with the insults, sweetheart. I’m growing bored.”

“Is that so?” you say. “I think ‘asshole’ suits you just fine. Maybe you should have become a proctologist instead of a paediatrician.”

“At least I pursued something I was good at. I’m not sure if you can say the same.”

“You fucking—”

“Everything okay in here?” Ella asks, floating into the kitchen. You spin around to conceal your anger, placing your hands against the counter and inhaling deeply. You roll your shoulders back and slap an artificial smile onto your face before turning once more.

“Everything’s fine,” you say, and fake a yawn, covering your mouth with your palm. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

Ella’s bottom lip juts out into a pout. Her red lipstick has faded, leaving only a stain of scarlet in its wake. On cue, Alex walks into the kitchen behind her, setting a steady hand on her hip and cocking his head to the side. “Hey. Everything okay in here?”

You nearly snort. Fucking soulmates.

“All good,” you tell him, nodding brusquely. “I’m just going to finish up with the dishes and head home.”

“Okay.” Alex presses a soft kiss to Ella’s temple, murmuring something about needing to get out of his stuffy clothes. You whirl, drying the last of the plates with frantic, shaky fingers. In your peripheral vision, you spy Harry watching you, but the stupid bastard must possess some scrap of self-preservation, because he keeps his mouth shut. You say nothing else as you whack the rag down onto the counter and stride out of the room.

You don’t miss Alex and Ella’s hushed whispers at the other end of the hall, but a little voice in your head tells you not to interrupt them. You halt at the front door, snatching your purse off one of the metal hooks mounted on the wall. You’re in the middle of putting on your shoes when you hear it:

“I was hoping we could arrange a truce, you know.”

You twist around, palm flying to your chest. Harry is standing a few feet away, his hands still wet with the water from the sink. He clasps them together and ducks his head, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think he was ashamed.

Something vile bubbles in the pit of your stomach. You gnaw on the flesh of your cheek, trying to reel your emotions back in. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of witnessing another outburst.

“Keep your fucking truce,” you spit, and wrench open the door. You shoot him one last withering look before stepping out of the condo and slamming it shut.

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 21 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Helloooooo my friends!!! You are going to love this one. I am so excited to hear what you think about it. Hold on to the fluff my loves. 

Read previous chapters of this fic here! 

warnings: food mention, alcohol consumption, discussion of pregnancy (not reader), mild sexual content

wordcount: 1.9k

“Okay, be honest. How many nights have you actually spent here since you moved in?” Emily asked, perched on the couch in your apartment, a glass of wine in her hand, a few empty bottles scattered between you, her, JJ and Garcia throughout your living room.

“That’s not fair! We spend way more nights out on cases than I do at Aaron’s place,” you laughed from across the living room in a lounge chair. 

“You know that’s not what she meant, peach.” Garcia chastises you, and JJ lets out a snort. 

“It doesn’t matter. Her non-answer is answer enough,” she points out, and you all laugh together.

“It’s a good thing,” Garcia reminds you. 

“Oh, absolutely,” Emily concurs. “We’re all glad you finally figured it out. I didn’t know how much longer I was going to be able to stand you making googly-eyes at him during active hostage situations.” 

“I did not!” You defended yourself with a smile, hiding your grin behind your fourth-- or was it your fifth?--- glass of wine. 

“You weren’t that bad. That’s not to say you were good at hiding it, because you weren’t,” JJ assures you. “But you held it together in the field.” 

“See, guys? And JJ’s sober.” You reminded the group.

“Are you sure you don’t want a glass?” Garcia offered her. 

“No, I’m alright,” JJ denied. “Actually, I offered to drive because…. Will and I are expecting!” She announces, and your faces all light up in unison. 

“Jayje!” Emily squeals, practically diving across the couch to wrap her friend in a hug. Penelope is right behind her, and you all take a moment to fuss over her and feel her non-existent bump before settling back into your own seats. 

“Oh, that means you and Hotch are next!” Garcia asserts drunkenly, and you tense, although you doubt any of the ladies noticed. 

“You think you’d want that? Kids, I mean?” Emily asks you, reclining back in her chair. 

“I don’t really know what Aaron wants,” you shrug the question off, averting your gaze to your wine glass. 

“That’s not what we asked,” JJ redirects you, apparently unwilling to accept a non-answer this time around. “What do you want?”

“With Aaron? More kids, definitely more.” You confess. “But Aaron’s older than I am. I don’t know if he feels like he’s done with that part of his life, you know?” 

“There’s no way. He loves Jack more than anything.” Emily concludes. “He seems like the type of guy who’d love to keep you barefoot and pregnant, even if it’s only because he’d get to pull you out of the field and keep you safe at home.” 

You let out a real laugh at Emily’s assertion. “Well, if he ever asks me about it, I’ll be sure to include that in my supporting arguments.” 

“Trust me-- they never feel done with being a dad. How do you think Will and I ended up with baby number two?” JJ reminds you with a wink. 

“Oh, you guys would just have the cutest babies. That dark Hotchner hair and your pretty eyes!” Garcia gushes, her lower lip starting to quiver. 

“Okay, and that’s my cue to get her home,” JJ chuckles, rising from her place on the couch. “Drink some water before you go to bed, okay? And maybe eat something, and take some advil?” 

“Okay, mom,” you rolled your eyes, standing up and giving your friends hugs goodbye as you said goodnight. 

“Hey, someday you’ll understand,” JJ tells you. “It will be sooner than you think, I’d bet.” She winks, and you roll your eyes at her again, smiling as you walked the three of them to the door.

----------------

“We’re going on a date tonight,” Aaron tells you as the two of you leave the office a few nights later. “Jess agreed to take Jack.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Am I forgetting something?” 

“Only that I love you, and as your boyfriend I reserve the right to take you out whenever I please,” He smirks, placing a hand on your back as he opens the door and helps you into the car. 

You roll your eyes, but you’re not quick enough to come up with some smart-ass comment, so you let him have the win as he drives you both home.

“Should I wear something specific?” You ask as the two of you walk into the house together.

“We’re gonna walk downtown a little, so something comfortable,” he advises. “Do you need to do anything other than change, or are you basically ready to go?” 

“I could use ten minutes to freshen up,” you tell him, and he nods with a smile. 

“Take your time, we’re not in any rush,” he says, kissing your temple and moving into the bedroom to change into something more comfortable as you step into the bathroom, adjusting your hair and makeup just a tad. When you come back into the bedroom, Aaron’s switched into jeans, so you do the same. You go to fish your wallet out of your work bag, and Aaron slaps at your wrist lightly. 

“Stop it. You don’t need that,” he tells you, and you roll your eyes with a playful smile. 

“You’re a neanderthal,” You tease him, letting him guide you out of the house and back towards the car. 

“No, I was raised right,” Aaron corrects you. 

“What if I want a drink and I get carded?” You smirked as you buckled your seatbelt. You were younger than Aaron, yes, but not by that much. 

“If you get denied because you don’t have an ID on you, I’ll stop at the gas station on our way home and buy you a six pack of bud light.” He assures you as he backs out of the parking lot.

“So romantic,” you cooed overdramatically, tossing your head back with a laugh. Aaron takes advantage of the opportunity to lean over the console and press a quick kiss to your jawline.

A few moments later, Aaron parks the car in front of a greasy spoon downtown that you’d never been to before, and you give him an inquisitive look. It’s not that you minded at all-- any time you spent with Aaron was perfect in every way. But his dates were usually a lot higher-key. 

“I’ve got to keep you on your toes,” he shrugged with a boyish grin as he took your hand in his on the sidewalk and walked you into the restaurant. He let go reluctantly as the two of you slid into opposite sides of a booth. 

“So, it’s safe to assume that there’s more to tonight’s date than burgers and milkshakes?” You ask Aaron after the two of you have placed your orders. 

“Oh, absolutely,” Aaron nods, smiling smugly. 

“And are you going to tell me what that might be?” You asked hopefully. 

“Absolutely not,” Aaron confirmed what you had already suspected.

“Not even a hint?” You asked. 

“You’ll find out in due time. Be patient, princess,” he encourages you. 

“I’m willing to beg,” you informed him. You were sure that whatever he had planned would be romantic and wonderful, but god did you want to know. 

“Darling, I’d really prefer if you saved that for our bedroom,” Aaron deadpanned, and you choked on your water. 

“Agent Hotchner!” You chastised, catching your breath. 

“Come on, now you’re just teasing me,” he winked, and you felt butterflies in your stomach. 

“Well, is it working?” You asked, wondering if you could flirt your way into some intel. 

“Not a chance,” he admonished you playfully as the waitress sat your meals down in front of you. 

After dinner, Aaron took your hand back in his and led you out of the restaurant. You started to head off towards the car, but he stopped you. 

“You did want to see what else I had planned, didn’t you?” He asks, facetiously. 

“Yes please,” you smiled shyly. 

“Take a walk with me,” Aaron says, tugging you back into him so he can wrap his arm around you.  It takes a couple of paces for him to find his metaphorical footing, but after a moment, he speaks up again. “I haven’t been clear with you about what my intentions are, and I wanted to apologize for that.”

“Aaron, you don’t have to--” you start, but he cuts you off. 

“Let me, first, please?” Aaron asks of you, looking you in the eyes, and you nod, giving him permission to continue. “I haven’t explained to you exactly how I feel, and because I didn’t do that, you’re having to worry about silly things, like whether or not you have the same amount of experience I do, or whether or not I’m going to run off with Jack’s teacher or one of his friends moms.” 

“Well, I’m less worried about Rhonda now that I’ve met her wife. But Ms. Meadows is still on my watch list.” You tell him, and he chuckles, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it as he takes you down a side street. 

“Darling, you’ve got nothing to worry about. That’s what I needed to tell you. I’m all in, sweetheart. You, me, Jack, and anyone else we might add to our family-- that’s all I want. That’s my priority.” He tells you, and your breath catches. “So, I got you a little something, just to show you how serious I am,” He says, leading you into a jewelry store. You stop in the doorway. 

“Aaron Hotchner, please tell me you’re not proposing at the jewelers.” You whisper out, not wanting to cause a scene. You would have said yes, regardless, but you were struck by a little bit of shock. 

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, dear. Come on in, and I’ll show you,” He takes your hand again, and you step into the jewelry store with trepidation. The man behind the counter seems to recognize Aaron, as he produces a bag from the back counter once they make eye contact. Aaron passes the bag to you, and you push through the pink tissue paper to uncover a box, in which you find a single diamond solitaire pendant.

“Aaron,” you start breathlessly, but he’s already taking the necklace out of your hands and maneuvering the clasp around your neck. 

“This is just a placeholder, until you’re ready for the real thing,” Aaron whispers, pressing a kiss behind your ear once the necklace is secure. “But since we’re here, would you want to try a few on? So I know what you like? You’re not allowed to take the real one off, once it’s on. So I want you to be happy with it.” 

You’re sure that you’re dreaming your way through the rest of the evening. You try on what feels like every ring in the store, including the ones you insist are too expensive, but Aaron refuses to listen. You’re practically floating on air during the walk back to the car, and you let out a sigh as you settle into the passenger seat. 

“I know I said you weren’t allowed to take the ring off, and I meant it,” Aaron tells you. “But if you’re not ready to start thinking that way, I understand. This is at your pace. You just let me know, and I’ll pump the breaks.” 

You practically launch yourself across the center console, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. “Does this thing go any faster, actually?” You ask, and he laughs as he kisses you again.

tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

[doodlingstuff]

Coffee first?

Very late @aftgexchange gift for @rainbow-0bsidian Here's a Coffee Shop AU featuring an evil autumn-colored crocheted nanna-rug. Hope you like it!

---

"I don't even know why I'm letting you drag me into this. I have a paper due tomorrow." Jean says, tapping furiously into his laptop as if the excessive noise will make him go faster.

"Because the two of you need to go out more often! Unless you are, you know, like together, in which case-"

"Don't even finish that thought." Andrew threatens Dan from his place, smoking on the window.

Dan crosses her arms. She's in the middle of the room, where she can look at both men at the same time. The truth is, she knows they both have lives. Or sort of... But she doesn't want to go alone to meet the cute beefcake from the gym on her first date.

They've been eyeing each other for long enough without saying anything, that in the end, it had been Dan who proposed having coffee in her preferred place.

"Okay. I'm done." Jean announces, closing his laptop. "Move it, Minyard."

"I didn't sign myself to be her chaperon."

"And I'm not going to be their third wheel."

"Guys, come on! I never ask anything from either of you."

Both men turn to shot daggers at Dan. Technically, she spends most of the week asking things, but that is because she's the team's captain, and they're supposed to fall under her command.

"I'll buy you a slice of each cake," Dan says to Andrew. "And I'll help you finish your paper when we return." She adds to Jean. "Can we go now?"

Andrew shrugs before discarding his half-smoked cigarette. Dan feels immediate relief. She won't go alone. Her roommates will be there, and if everything goes to awful hell, she can always count on Allison and Renee to cry all night.

"How do I look?" Dan asks the men. She still has a few minutes to make last-minute changes.

Andrew swipes her from top to bottom and Jean from her shoes to her hair.

"Could be worse."

"Halloween is coming."

Dan feels her belly churning with dread. It must be the boots, or the sweater, or the hair. Or perhaps she overdid her makeup? What if-

"Wilds, no." Andrew breaks the silence. Dan turns to look at him. If she has to give the tiny man credit for something, is that he knows how to dress when he means it. She should've asked for his help. Or Jean.

Oh, for fuck's sake. She's so stupid! She also lives with a French, and she couldn't ask for advice. This Matt guy is turning her into a puddle of uselessness.

"I said no. Let's go." Andrew cuts in again and storms out of the door.

Dan sighs and goes out, ready to fail.

The way goes silent. Andrew and Jean occasionally type something on their phones. They are closer to each other than they are to Dan. Like real bodyguards. At least that gives Dan a bit of security.

She breathes in the chilly morning autumn air and pushes the door of the Fox Coffee Shop, already scanning the tables. There's no sign of her big man yet. She might have a few minutes to steel herself for the stunning view and relax before he-

"What are you doing? Don't leave me with her!" Jean scowls behind her. She turns on her heels to see Andrew leaving the coffee shop.

"Andrew! What are you doing? Andrew!"

Dan is finally thankful for choosing shoes she can run with. She is so worried about being left alone with the cute man that she doesn't pay attention to the sound of windows smashing at her back and hurries more to step in front of Andrew.

"We got a deal! What's wrong with you?"

Andrew only lifts a brow. It would've been enough to make Dan step aside if she didn't know him so well already, and she hadn't noticed the faint blush on his cheeks.

"Can we go back? I got a date."

"Go ahead. I don't." There's the faintest of inflections in the last part. Dan would've asked if she only had time. Right now, she wants her date to be perfect, and it's coming pretty bad from before the start.

"I'll also get you fancy ice cream when I'm done. Andrew, come on, I need you."

The man looks from Dan's face to the coffee shop at the back. His cheeks blush again.

"Is he worth it?"

"I'll never know if we don't meet."

"Chocolate fudge, rocky road, brownie, and cookie chips. Plus the cakes, and I reserve the right to stab him if he isn't worth it."

"Awesome. You're the best. Come on; he must be there."

Dan makes her way back to the coffee shop, feeling pounds lighter with Andrew going willingly behind her. However, the relief doesn't last long.

There's a crowd of people at the entrance of the place. Dan makes way for her and Andrew to see what's the source of the commotion. A million scenes cross her mind. All of them, except the one with Jean on the floor, cursing in angry French at a blond man who's pressing gauze to his forehead.

"I can't take care of that cut if you keep moving, you know?" The blond says.

"Leave my head alone and get rid of that stupid rug!" Jean protests.

Dan looks at the spot pointed by Jean. There's a crumpled autumn-colored crocheted nana-rug on the floor.

"As if it was the rug's fault that you can't see where you put your feet. Or your whole body, for that matter." Interjects a small man from aside. He gives a few steps to get close to the window that apparently, met Jean's head. "At least you hit with the wall and didn't break the window."

"Neil, can you go back to attending orders?" The blond man asks, still busy attending Jean.

At her back, Dan hears Andrew muttering "Neil" to himself.

"I'm not cleaning his blood." The man -Neil-, says as he goes back to the counter.

Dan doesn't pay any more attention to him and crouches beside Jean. "What happened?"

"I wanted to catch Andrew before he ran away and slipped with their stupid rug. Who puts a rug in the middle of a coffee shop?"

"I did; any problems?" Neil replies from the back of the counter.

"You are a problem!" Jean shouts at the same time that Andrew says it, already in front of Neil. The blush has extended from his cheeks to his ears.

"It's just an attitude problem," Neil says, quieter, only for Andrew to hear, but the whole shop is still silent with the commotion.

"I'll still solve you," Andrew says with a casual shrug that can fool anyone but Dan or Jean.

"At least buy something before."

The blond man. Jeremy reads his tag, just puts his head inside his hands. "This job is going to kill me."

At that moment, Dan can see the instant shuffle in Jean. When he sees the exhaustion in Jeremy, he also goes slack against the wall, all tension between him, the rug, and Neil instantly gone. "I'm sorry for causing you trouble, love. It's just- Andrew's impossible, and our girl Dan here is having her first date with a guy from the gym."

Dan can't think anymore. She doesn't even know what's going on. Jean and Jeremy are holding hands on the floor, and Andrew is having a heavy staring contest with Neil at the counter.

"Love?" Is all she can mutter.

"We've been dating for weeks. We didn't want to tell you because I thought you liked him." Jean says.

"I- What?"

"You come here so often that I thought you might come for me? It wouldn't be the first time. And I know it wouldn't be because of Neil; he doesn't seem your type." Jeremy explains.

Dan feels dumbfounded. Her knees are about to give up below here. This can't be happening.

"I come here because of the morning views, the warm lattes, the pecan pie, and the free Wi-Fi! And I have a fucking date with a super hot guy who's like seven feet of glorious muscle crowned with a perfect smile and the most hilarious sense of humor. Why would I even look at you? No offense, Jean, I can see the appeal."

"Do you think all that of me?" Asks a deep voice behind Dan.

"Fuck me now," Dan mutters to Jean's and Jeremy's entertainment.

"Uh... Thought we could have coffee first? But I can do that too if that's what you want. I mean, who wouldn't? You're like a goddess."

"I- Wh- So- Do you really think I'm a goddess?"

"Hell yeah, I've been wanting to ask you out since spring but thought like your friend's boyfriend that you were into him and I-"

"Shut up and kiss me."

Dan doesn't think as she talks and pulls Matt in for a kiss.

All her nerves melt as soon as their mouths meet. It's so much better than anything she had imagined. Not that she'd put too many thoughts into picturing herself with Matt, but it's everything she ever dreamt of and then some.

"You could do the same someday." Dan listens to Andrew deadpan to Neil. She bursts into laughter at the same time as Matt.

The kiss breaks, but their hands remain holding as they go to get their drinks and officially start their date.

It looks like this date won't be a total failure after all.

[alwaysfeelingsaintlike]

Dancing in the Dark [G.W]

Description: You and George work to make Fred and Angelina’s wedding absolutely perfect, while planning your future together in the process

Pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader 

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: I wanted to take a quick minute to thank @theweasleysredhair for giving me some advice on starting up this blog! I’m really excited to share some more of my works and I hope you all enjoy them. Please go check out her writing!

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“George let’s go! We’re going to be late!” You looked at the clock and waited precisely five seconds before barging into the room.

“What could possibly be taking you so long?” You asked him. You found George in the bedroom with an open suitcase and his wand, packing all his belongings at the last minute. “You told me you packed last night,” you said sternly.

“Well I did. But then I felt I needed to add to my luggage a bit. Just in case.”

“You’re even more high maintenance than I am,” you joked.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he smiled at you. He finally finished up his packing and he walked over to you, embracing you in a tight hug.

“You may have mentioned it a few times. Lucky for you I never get tired of hearing it.” You gave him a peck on the lips and then went to gather your belongings.

“Now we really need to go. We’re already late and something tells me we’re one step away from getting kicked out of the wedding party.”

“Whatever you say, my lady.” He grabbed your hand and you apparated to the Burrow. It wasn’t the ideal time for a wedding, but it was something everyone needed. Fred and Angelina were set on getting married and they were so in love that they didn’t want to wait.

You had grown particularly close to Angelina over the past few months considering you were living together. You ended up moving in with George after finishing at Hogwarts and Ang was living in the apartment, staying in Fred’s room. It was a small space for four people, but you made it work and had fun being cramped. After the wedding, Angelina and Fred were planning to move out and get their own place (somewhere spacious to raise all the children they planned on having). You were sad seeing them leave, but you and George were excited to finally have the place to yourselves. 

You arrived in the kitchen of the Burrow right as breakfast was being served.

“Y/N! Darling!” Mrs. Weasley said, shuffling over to give you a big hug.

“Yeah, don’t mind me. It’s not like I’m your son or anything,” George remarked.

“Oh hush you,” she said, swatting him with a tea towel before hugging him.  

Everyone at the table got up to greet you. Everyone was staying at the Burrow for the weekend, since the wedding was to take place there. You were impressed when Fleur actually remembered your name after meeting you for what seemed like the hundredth time. Mrs. Weasley pulled up two seats at the table and you sat and ate while she sent your bags upstairs. Everyone seemed pleasant and conversation flowed easily, but you could still feel a little bit of tension in the room. For one, Harry barely said a word. Harry was usually quiet, but this was something else. George had mentioned that the three of them weren’t returning to Hogwarts for their 7th year and you couldn’t say you blamed them. Snape had been instated as Headmaster and everything about that seemed awful.  Soon everyone finished eating and you went out back for a friendly game of quidditch.

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The day had gone by pretty quickly (the Burrow always had stuff going on, which made time move fast) and soon enough it was dark out. Technically, the night before the wedding day was reserved for some sort of bachelor/bachelorette festivities, but nothing wild was planned. All the girls were staying in Ginny’s room for the night, aside from Fleur who was staying with Bill, and you all decided to drink and have a girls’ night.

You supplied firewhiskey and Fleur had contributed a few bottles of “ze finest wine in France.” You were not planning on getting that drunk, considering tomorrow was a big day for Angelina, and as Maid of Honor, you had to make sure everything went according to plan. Ginny and Hermione let the alcohol get the best of them and went to bed relatively early. Fleur left to be with Bill, which left you and Ang. She told you about how excited she was to get married and how she knew she was making the right decision and everything. You couldn’t have been any happier for her and once your talk ended, you suggested going to bed to get some sleep before the big day tomorrow.

By the sounds of her light snoring, Angelina fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and that left you alone with your thoughts. You were truly thrilled for her and Fred. But it was hard not to compare their relationship to yours. You and George started dating before they did; yet they were the ones getting married. You didn’t doubt your relationship with George for a minute, but it did make you think. You had never really discussed the future in detail. After lying awake for what seemed like hours, you decided to go down to the kitchen for a glass of water and maybe a snack.

You slipped down the stairs as quietly as you could, careful not to wake anyone. You heard some shuffling coming from the kitchen, but you assumed it was the ghoul in the attic rattling the pipes or something. You were surprised to find a ginger figure walking around the kitchen looking for food. You thought about sneaking up on him, but the minute you reached the bottom step he turned around.

“Hey darling,” he said, kissing you on the forehead. “What are you doing down here so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Stressed about tomorrow, eh?” he asked.

“No, it’s not that I don’t think. I just have a lot on my mind.” 

You took a seat at the kitchen table and he brought over a plate of biscuits and a tall glass of milk to share, which was exactly what you needed.

“What are you thinking about love?” he half-smiled.

“Just overanalyzing things as usual,” you sighed, taking a bite out of a biscuit.

“Meaning?”

“You’re happy with the way things are going between us, right?”

He looked at you a little concerned. “Well yeah, I couldn’t be happier. Are you happy?”

“Yes, of course I’m happy. It’s just all this wedding stuff is making me think about the future and we haven’t really ever discussed that and I’m just worried we aren’t on the same page.”

“Tell me what you want,” he replied, “for the future.”

“I…I mean I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it in detail…” you trailed.

“Just tell me what you want, anything and everything that you want, and I’ll make it happen,” he said softly. He gently picked up your hands and looked deeply into your eyes. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him this serious. 

“All I want is to be with you,” you said, matching his eye contact. He took your hands and pulled you to his side of the table, where you found a seat on his lap. “I think that can be arranged,” he purred while pulling you towards him even further, into a deep and passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you. He countered your move by squeezing you even tighter and making you feel even more loved. You parted shortly and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Just so you know, you essentially just turned over all the wedding decisions to me,” he smirked.

“Oh did I?”

“You did. That was your opportunity to demand your perfect wedding and you failed to do so. Therefore, I get to plan the wedding. I’m thinking…an outdoor winter wedding, right in front of the Whomping Willow.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. And I will make sure it snows, since I know how much you love snow.” It was obvious he was messing with you, since he knew you didn’t enjoy the cold and the snow, as well as the deranged willow tree. Instead of getting all pouty like he expected you to react, you decided to surprise him.

“As long as I get to marry you, then I don’t care.” Your words had indeed surprised him. His grin spread from ear to ear and you couldn’t help but kiss him.

“Don’t worry love, I’ll make sure our wedding is perfect.”

“Okay, I’ll hold you to that. Might be hard to top Fred and Ang though.”

“I think we can do it. You know, I was planning to propose to you a few months ago, about the same time when Fred and Angelina got engaged. But I didn’t want to steal his thunder and I didn’t want you to think I proposed just because Fred did.” His statement made you giddy. It all just became so much more real. The fact that he had actually almost planned a proposal was reassuring and you knew you’d get your happy ending.

“Really?” you smiled, excitedly.

“Yes really.”

“Weren’t striving for the double wedding?”

“Definitely not. I want our wedding to be ours. I don’t want to share that day with anyone.”

“You really are saying all the right things. What are you trying to get at here? I can’t reward you in the way you want to be rewarded. Not here and now.”

“But you will keep this in mind when we return to the apartment, right?”

You chuckled, “Maybe. If you behave.”

“Now when do I ever behave?” he grinned. You ruffled his hair and kissed him on the cheek.

By this point the biscuits and milk were gone. You waved your wand and sent the dirty dishes over to the sink, where you magically cleaned them.

“Ready for bed? Got all your thinking out of the way?”

“I think so. It is pretty late and tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” 

He put his arm around you and you walked up the stairs. Ginny’s room was the first bedroom on the way up, but once you reached the door, George walked right past it.  

“Um, I think this is my stop,” you said, as he continued walking.

“No it isn’t,” he insisted. George grabbed your hand and started pulling you up the stairs. “You’re staying with me.”

“Don’t do this to me. What if we get caught? Your parents will hate me.”

“One: my parents could never hate you. They love you more than they love me. And two: when do I ever get caught?” The latter of the two points was definitely true. It wasn’t a hard decision to make and you gave in moments later.

You scurried up the stairs, as quietly as possible. The door opened with a slight creak, but Fred was out cold and did not wake.

The two of you tip-toed over to George’s bed and he got in, sliding over toward the wall to give you ample room. George’s bed was a twin, which was smaller than you were used to, but you can’t say that you minded. It just meant you could snuggle closer with him. He put his arm around you and you rested your head on his chest. He kissed you on the forehead and whispered, “You’re perfect. Don’t ever change.”

“I won’t if you won’t,” you responded. 

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too, Georgie.” It wasn’t long before you drifted off to sleep.

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You woke up the next morning with George snoring softly beside you. The sun was just starting to rise, so it must’ve been early. Fred was still asleep so this was the perfect time to stage your escape. You nudged George gently and he opened his eyes and smiled at you. “Well isn’t this a beautiful sight to wake up to,” he said, voice stale from sleep. “Stop trying to charm me. You’re making it harder to leave.”

“Don’t leave me,” he pouted.

“It’ll just be for a couple of hours. I don’t want to get in trouble, or get you in trouble. Come down and grab me on your way to breakfast.”

“Yes darling.” You kissed him on the cheek and ran your fingers through his hair. He held your hand in his, in what you assumed was an attempt to get you to stay, and he looked at you lovingly. You swiftly hopped out of bed and blew him a kiss before leaving the room. The staircase seemed clear and you snuck back to Ginny’s room without being caught. Hermione and Ginny were still passed out, so you decided to brew a bit of a hangover cure for the two of them to make the morning a bit more pleasant. You crawled into bed and planned to sleep for another hour or two when you heard your name. It was Angelina. She clearly had been tossing and turning all night and you couldn’t blame her.

“Were you with George last night?” she whispered.

You tried to hide your smile and shrugged, “It’s possible. Now hush and get some more sleep. Today’s a big day for you. You need to preserve your energy.” She shook her head and curled up into a ball under the covers. You closed your eyes for a moment and suddenly you were dozing off.

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You awoke to a figure sitting on your bed and stroking your spine with a gentle touch that almost tickled. You opened your eyes and found George waiting for you. Everyone else was gone and you suspected they had gone downstairs to grab a bite to eat. George helped you out of bed and you stretched before joining the rest of the family downstairs. Everyone was present except for Harry, Ron and Fred. Harry and Ron were still sleeping and Fred was banned from seeing Angelina, so he had to wait until she was finished eating to come downstairs. You found a seat next to George at the end of the table where you could observe everyone. Ginny and Hermione looked awful and were clearly playing it off as being tired. You saw right through it though and figured you’d be a good friend and help them out. You bumped Hermione’s knee and she turned to you with a pained expression. You found her hand under the table and placed the small vial in it. She looked at you with confusion and you simply winked at her. She trusted you enough to know you had her best interest at heart. When no one was looking, she dumped the contents of the vial into the cups of pumpkin juice in front of her and Ginny. A few sips later and it was like they were good as new. 

Breakfast came and went and then the stress began. George joined the boys in the backyard. They were responsible for setting up the tent and all the tables, as well as de-gnoming the garden. Meanwhile, the girls gathered upstairs to pamper Angelina. The bridesmaids’ dresses were lovely, and something you would probably wear again. The dresses were teal, a color everyone looked good in, with a strapless sequined bodice and wrap skirt. The dress fell right above the knee and managed to lengthen your legs. While all the bridesmaids were making themselves look great, Ang was changing into her gown. She emerged and all of you gawked over her beauty. The strapless, silk chiffon gown could not have been more perfect. The simplicity was breathtaking and was perfect for Angelina. The A-line silhouette gave the illusion that she was floating as she walked and the detailed, shimmery belt gave just the right amount of sparkle. You had never seen a more beautiful bride. 

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The backyard was all set up and the guests were seated. Angelina was positively freaking out and it was your job to keep her calm and smiling. You were the first to descend down the aisle so you had to pass off your responsibilities to Hermione for the time being. 

George nudged you with his elbow and held his arm out, waiting for you to latch onto his bicep. “Ready love?” he asked. “Let’s get this show started,” you smiled.

The music started and you took that as your cue to begin walking. The guests all stood up and you gracefully walked down the candlelit path together.

“Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I think you’re the most beautiful woman here today,” he whispered in your ear.

You couldn’t hold in your grin and replied, “You know that’s why I keep you around, the endless amount of compliments.”

“Ah ha ha. Very funny. I know the truth is that you can’t resist me.”

“You just keep thinking that,” you said as you departed. George found his rightful place next to Fred and you stood and watched the rest of the wedding party walk down the aisle. Angelina was escorted by Mr. Weasley, seeing as her parents couldn’t attend the wedding. She was glowing. The sunlight was hitting her in the perfect spot and she had this twinkle in her eye that completely brightened her face. You looked toward Fred and he was visibly in love. The only time you’d ever seen that look before was when George looked at you that way. As she reached the altar, you held her bouquet as she grabbed Fred’s hands. She took a deep breath and focused on holding back her happy tears. You caught George’s eyes and noticed while everyone else was watching the happy couple, his eyes were focused on you. 

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The ceremony was beautiful. No maid of honor emergencies came up but you still spent your time making every little detail perfect. The reception was even better. Everyone took the opportunity to have a good time and escape from the cruelties that were currently going on in the wizarding realm. 

You and George kept the champagne flowing in everyone’s glasses, as well as your own. Fred and Ang spent most of their time on the dance floor when they weren’t mingling with all the guests. They both looked so happy and you couldn’t help but smile whenever you saw them.

“Y/N! I know I haven’t seen you all day, but I just wanted to thank you for all your hard work. The day has literally gone flawlessly and I owe it all to you,” Ang came over and hugged you.

“Oh honey, I just wanted everything to be perfect for your special day!”

“It is, it really is. Now stop worrying about everything and go have fun with George!”

“You sure? I mean, what if…”

“Y/N, stop. Go dance.” She didn’t have to tell you twice. You gave her another hug and scurried off to find George.

He was over by the bar, talking with Lee and Ron, drinking what you assumed was firewhiskey. You snuck up behind him and ran your hands up and down his back. He turned around and put his arm around you.

“Sorry to interrupt boys. Mind if I steal him for a bit?” you asked. They both nodded  and you grabbed his hands and led him to the dance floor. 

“Where have you been all night?”

“I’m sorry baby. I just wanted to make sure everything was perfect for Ang and Freddie.”

“Well you did a fantastic job. But I think it’s time to hang out with your awesome boyfriend now.”

“You’re right. Now I just need to find him…” you said, looking around the crowd of people.

“Oh you’re funny. No wonder I like you so much,” he said wrapping his arms around your waist. You just smiled at him and he kissed your nose. You always tried not to show too much PDA, especially around family, but this was a special occasion. Everyone was so loved up that you didn’t feel weird being cutesy with George. 

He took your hand and you started dancing to whatever upbeat song was playing. You forgot how fun dancing was and it seemed like you had been out there for hours. Soon, the tempo started slowing down and George swiped you up and placed you in a waltzing position. His right hand was resting comfortably around your waist while his left was intertwined with yours. Your right arm was lightly draped on his shoulder and it almost looked like you knew what you were doing. Normally, the height difference would make this difficult, but the heels gave you a few inches and brought your faces closer.

“You know, we should just get married. Like tomorrow,” you said, as you swayed to the music.

“Tomorrow?”

“What, is that not enough notice for you? Still deciding if you want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

“Oh no. It’s not that at all. It’s just that I know you and that’s not what you really want.”

“I just want to marry you.” He smiled as you said this and kissed you passionately on the lips.  

“But if we got married tomorrow, you wouldn’t get to plan out every little detail of the wedding. And you wouldn’t get to wear your dream dress. And we wouldn’t be able to spend it with all of our friends and family. Besides, I still need to plan out an extravagant proposal.”

“I mean I guess you’re right. You always seem to know what’s best.”

“That’s just you wearing off on me.”

“I know I’ve probably said this a million times, but I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He kissed you on the forehead and squeezed you tight. The song ended and you stopped swaying and just stood together. Your head was resting on his shoulder and you let out a yawn.

“Someone’s sleepy,” he said, running his fingers through your hair.

“I am pretty exhausted. It’s been a long day.”

“We can probably turn in. There’s still a ton of people here, no one would even notice if we left.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem like this party is dying down anytime soon. I don’t know how much longer I can stay awake,” you replied.

“Come on then,” he grabbed your hand and led you back into the house. The Burrow was quiet, aside from the dull sound of the party outside, which was strange since most of the time there were people running about, fussing over this and that. 

You walked up the stairs and found his room. Fred had packed up his stuff, since they were leaving for their honeymoon right away. That meant the room would be all yours tonight. Even though you technically weren’t supposed to sleep in the same bed as George, you knew that tonight no one would notice or even care. As soon as he shut the door, your lips were on his. You didn’t think he was expecting you to be so forward, but he definitely didn’t mind. You pulled off his suit jacket and started to loosen his tie. He picked you up and carried you to his bed as you started unbuttoning his waistcoat.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to do it in my childhood bed.”

“Oh yeah? Well I guess it’s time to cross that off the list,” you winked at him.

[calpops]

seven months | c.h.

Seven months of pregnancy leave you and Calum with a world of love, happiness, trials and tribulations and brings an anticipated yet completely unexpected moment.

1.8k words

dates with cal masterlist

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

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The positive test result is confirmed and you and Calum feel like you’re floating. The first week of knowing that your family is growing comes with bliss. You can’t help but smile every time you see each other, Calum can’t keep his hands from settling around your waist or delicately resting on your stomach. Duke develops a newfound interest and need to be with you; his senses turning his protectiveness into overdrive. The first week blows by, little red slashes on the calendar keeping count of all the days it will take to greet the newest member of the family.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Calum says, standing in the kitchen where he cooks up dinner. You haven’t quite developed any crazy cravings yet but it doesn’t stop him from making anything you desire.

“Her?” You ask with an arched eyebrow and smirk.

“Just a guess,” he says with a shrug and smile then adds on, “the right one.”

“I don’t know, love, I think my money’s on a boy,” you reply and let your hand settle on your stomach. As much as Calum’s made it a habit you’ve done so tenfold. You’re not showing yet but the habit comes from comfort.

“You wanna make a bet?” Calum asks, stalling his cooking to eye you. You shift in the stool you’re sat on and question him with a look. “A girl and I win. A boy and you win.”

“What do you propose we win?” you question.

Calum lets out a breath, turns off the stove and moves the pan from the hot burner before rounding the counter to be by your side. He slides his hands around you, holds you, kisses your forehead and smiles. “Bragging rights. And first choice at names,” he proposes and piques your interest. He knows you have a list of names that have swirled through your mind since you got serious together. You have a feeling even if he wins he’ll still consider what you want and you know you’d do the same for him. It’s all in good fun.

“Alright, deal, but we won’t know for a while,” you remind him and seal the deal with a kiss.

More days pass and the complications of pregnancy start to kick in. Cravings and sickness, fatigue and changes plague you. Calum is there for you through it all. He offers comfort and support, takes as much time as he can to be with you, cater to your every whim and need. Though there are challenges both of you stay optimistic and anxious, nearly unable to wait for the day you get to hold the product of love in your arms. You often find yourself speaking of it all, making plans. You’ve yet to tell anyone but Calum’s parents and sister about the pregnancy, opting to keep it to yourselves until enough time has passed that risk margins slim and complications start to fade.

“We should probably tell the guys, at least,” Calum mumbles one night. You lay on your side and gaze at him under thin streams of moonlight coming in through the slats of the blinds.

“Yeah,” you agree, knowing they’re family and should know soon.

“I can tell them at the studio tomorrow,” Calum offers and you watch his eyes shoot up to the ceiling. “Unless you want to be there when they find out.”

You nod. “Oh I think I have to be. Luke did walk me down the aisle,” you remind with a slight giggle and light up when Calum laughs too.

“Stop by for lunch and we’ll tell them together?” Calum offers and you nod, making the plan and looking forward to the reactions to come.

The next day you show up to the studio where Calum greets you with lunch, a smile and a kiss to the cheek. He holds your hand up to where the rest of the band convenes with a shroud of take out boxes around them. You go in without a game plan in place to break the news but feel that might be best, you want telling them to come naturally. You’ve started to show just a touch but it’s easy enough to o disguise with Calum’s hoodie. None of the boys are the wiser or suspect anything when you walk in with Calum.

You get halfway through your meal, making small talk and trading banter, filling the guys in on marital life and the happiness you share when Ashton eyes your odd combo of food and makes a quip.

“I’d say it’s the pregnancy cravings but I’ve always liked this, actually,” you reply without thought and only realize what you’ve said when Ashton laughs but Michael and Calum stay silent and then Ashton falls into the quiet as well.

“Wait, what?” Ashton asks and stands as if the news is so striking he’s not sure what to do with himself. Neither you or Calum respond, the lack of game plan not readying you for the varying responses of shock. “Shut up, are you really pregnant or just trying to give me chest pain?”

Calum laughs and you blush around a giggle. Michael and Luke lean forward, rapt with interest at what answer might come from you two. You start by nodding but it’s not enough for Ashton to believe you and sit back down. He waits for words, waits for Calum to also confirm and when the chorus of confirmation and explanation falls from the two of you he breaks into a grin and finally joins Luke and Michael back on the sofa.

“I really didn’t think Calum would be the first,” Michael muses, hands folded together under his chin, you can see the happiness in his eyes and the unrelenting tilt of his lips.

“The first to have a kid?” Calum asks and throws his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer.

“The first to find love, get married, have a kid, all of it,” Michael clarifies with fondness in his tone. “I’m happy for you,” he adds on and flickers his eyes from Calum to you, making it known he means both of you.

Luke joins in on the sentiment and congratulations, pulls you into a hug and promises he’ll be there whenever you need him, also mentions that he’s already vying for the position of favorite uncle.

“Does anyone else know?” Luke asks after.

“Just my parents and Mali,” Calum answers. “We want to keep it as private as possible for as long as possible.”

You and Calum are no strangers to privacy in your relationship. You’d kept your entire relationship a secret from the public for over a year before an accidental slip of paparazzi outed you, hate swirled and Calum took a stand to tell the world he loves you. Since then you’ve gone back under the radar, preferring to keep to yourselves. Keeping your pregnancy quiet feels only natural. You know there will come a time when it can’t be hidden, but in the meantime you’re going to enjoy every last minute of privacy and solace that you can.

You slowly break the news to other close friends as the weeks go on. It’s over dinner that Calum broaches the subject of making a public announcement. You know it’s time, you’re showing and the probability of being spotted and found out increases day by day. You nod in agreement at his words, how carefully he’s thought it through and what steps he wants to take to do it. A simple instagram post, a simple caption and the comments turned off. You agree and watch over Calum’s shoulder while he scrolls through near endless photos of you, you and him, all of the baby items you’ve obtained over the five months of the pregnancy. He finally decides on a simple photo of his hands on your bump and captions it with your due date and a heart. He posts it so the world knows but you keep your world inside the walls of your home and the love between the two of you.

You spend the next couple of months in an excited bliss. All of your appointments and classes go well. You both decide to be surprised by the gender, still waiting on your bet, still biding time on choosing a name. Calum always says you’ll know when you finally meet her—sticking to his guns about your baby being a daughter. You’ve bought almost everything for the nursery but have yet to get them all put together. The boxes leave a reminder of excitement and fondness in you every time you pass by the door. Habits begin to form as you get ready for the baby to come. Calum sings to your bump, talks to you and the baby, cradles you and speaks of the future so often and vividly you can nearly see it. Everything builds hope in your heart.

***

Calum’s at the studio late one night, texting you, promising you he’s trying to get home as soon as he can when the first sign occurs. Immediately and instinctively you know. You fumble with your phone and dial Calum’s number. It rings only once before he answers and you cut off his greeting.

“It’s happening,” you breathe out.

“Sweetheart, you’re barely seven months, are you sure it’s not Braxton-Hicks?” Calum asks, automatically knowing what you mean, concern is in his tone but the drone of background noise over the phone cuts through.

You nod, tears in your eyes, knowing he can’t see you and then manage to get out a cracked ‘yes’. It suddenly feels like the world you’ve been living in is moving too fast. It’s happening too soon and instead of an anticipated and joyous occasion you’re bombarded by a time unexpected and only worries following. You know complications exist with premature birth and they rattle through your brain and instill fear into you when all you want to be feeling is happiness.

Calum doesn’t hesitate when he knows you’re certain. “Mali’s closer, she’ll bring you to the hospital and I’ll meet you, okay? Ash will call her, just breathe, it’s gonna be okay.”

You want to believe him, have always been able to put your faith into his words. But this is out of his control.

“I’m scared,” you confide, voice small and shaking with the two words.

“Stay on the phone with me. I’m right here,” he soothes. “It’s gonna be okay,” he repeats and now you wonder if it’s for you or to convince himself, knowing that realizations of the situation have caught up with him. Noting the tiniest hint of fear in his voice.

You hold onto his words, the sentiment, the sound of his voice as he tries calming you. He stays on the phone with you as Mali shows up, through the car rides that separate you and only hangs up when he sees you being wheeled into the check in desk. He strides for you, takes your hand in his and repeats words that have become a mantra.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

You try to believe him as your world spins on and you’re powerless to the future. You don’t let go of his hand or his hope.

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[nyctophilin]

Maybe I Like You

@nerdyweaselpeanutperson​⤀ Hey there, hope you’re doing well~ Can I please request something smutty with seungmin? Maybe friends to lovers! and thigh riding pretty please 💫

Description⤀ Seungmin cared deeply for his friend this is why he never liked any of her boyfriends. The most recent one bothered him the most. However, maybe he wasn’t that bad.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing⤀ Seungmin x fem!Reader

Word count⤀ 3.8k

Genre⤀ College!AU, Friends to lovers, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings⤀ dom!seungmin, thigh ridding, marking, excessive use of the word "jackass", bad grammar/spelling(maybe)

Pearl Note⤀ This took so long to write. It took me like a week or so. Also, I don't know why it got so long. I hope you like it. Please don't refrain from telling me what you think or if you have any constructive criticism. Requests are also open, just saying.

      "You know, sometimes I worry about you. What is such a handsome and intelligent young man doing without a girlfriend?" She joked causing the man to roll his eyes. 

      Y/N and Seungmin were currently in the library of the campus trying to study for their organic chemistry class. Seungmin was trying to study, Y/N tried to study got bored midway and now was tormenting the poor boy who was just trying to pass.

      "If you tell me what such a beautiful and smart young lady is doing with a jackass like him I'll give an answer to your question." Seungmin didn't move his eye from the book he was reading. Y/N frowned and crossed her arms.

      "He is nice! Just because he gave you a dirty look doesn't mean he's a jackass. And it's not like you are the most agreeable person there is." Seungmin looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that! I'll never forget how you told that girl that her cooking is worse than eating shit."

      "She gave me food poisoning! And it didn't even taste good!" Seungmin raised his voice and got some dirty looks from the other students that didn't have a Y\N to bother them while studying. He knew that he should have been nicer to that girl but at least she wasn't bringing her horrible cookies to college anymore.

      "You never like the guys I date and you always call them jackasses. Once I called my ex jackass because of you. He never let it go after!" Seungmin smirked at that. Her ex was indeed a jackass. 

      It wasn't that he didn't like them. Some of the guys she dated were nice, the problem was that she dated them. He didn't know what to call his feelings for her. Love, like, just a simple crush. He knew however that if he wants to keep their friendship then he has to keep quiet about his feelings. At least when she is in a relationship but she never seems to be out of one. Every time she was going through a break up he will give her time to get over it and right before he could make a move she will present her new boyfriend to him.

      "I never like them because you always break up with them in like 3 months or so. There's no point in getting attached. It will only hurt me!" He said the last sentence in an exaggerated tone clutching his chest. 

      Y/N smacked his arm lightly while chucking and decided to go back to studying after. Seungmin was grateful for that since he really needed to study but also he didn't know how much more talking about her with other men he could have endured.

      Seungmin rolled his eyes at the sound of the other man's voice, an action that seemed to turn into a habit lately. He turned on his heels and smiled falsely at Y/N's boyfriend. What was his name? He couldn't be bothered to remember it. The thin guy was approaching him and he thought that if he were to fight him, he would surely win and maybe that jackass would stop bothering Y/N. Why was he trying to talk to Seungmin anyway?

      "Man, I was looking for you all over campus! Where've you been?" The man asked and put his hand around Seungmin's neck.

      He tried suppressing a grimace before deciding to answer his question. "I was in Biology class with Y/N and you know it. You saw me entering the classroom." Was he really as stupid as Seungmin liked to make him in front of her?

      "I know but I thought maybe you went outside to play some soccer after class. Oh, I forgot, you are a nerd!" The dude let out a disgusting laugh and punched Seungmin in the chest making the air leave his guts for a split second. Ah, here it was, the jackass was finally out!

      "Listen, I'm busy so if you have nothing important to tell me I'd like to respectfully ask you to fuck off so I can move on with my life!" Seungmin was already sick of this dude. How could Y/N spend several hours a day with him and not go insane he'll never understand. 

      The dude removed his hand from around Seungmin's neck and stopped in his track. He cleared his throat and lightly scratched the back of his head, his bony arm even more prominent.

      "Man, I have to ask you something important." Seungmin nodded his head a bit irritated. "Me and Y/N have been together for three weeks already and we haven't done it once man! I don't know what to do anymore!"

      Seungmin had a grossed out face for a few moments before raising an eyebrow. "And you are telling me this because? Do you expect me to go to her and tell her to do it with you or something?"

      "No man! I'm not an idiot!" Seungmin held back a sarcastic remark. "I want you to tell me how to get her, man! You know, tell me what turns her on and stuff like that!"

      Seungmin rolled his eyes. "How am I supposed to know that?" The dude started laughing but stopped soon when he saw that the pink-haired man was not laughing.

      "Don't tell me that you've been friends for so long but never done it!"

      "You are right, we've been friends! I don't know how you and your friends interact and frankly, I don't care. She probably doesn't want to do it because she knows how small your dick is!" Seungmin was utterly disgusted by the conversation he just had.

      Not only was he a jackass for telling him something so personal about his relationship with Y/N but he also was stupid enough to believe that if he had any tips he would share it. Why would he tell anybody how to make her feel good, how to make her squirm under them, how to push her buttons so much and hard that she'll beg for you to have mercy on her and give her any kind of relieve. 

      Fuck, he needed to stop before it would be too hard for him to concentrate on his classes. Without saying anything else he turned around and continued on his way towards the chemistry lab.

      It has been two weeks since Seungmin had that talk with that jackass and he tried avoiding Y/N all this time in hope that he'll see less of that dude. The two of them still hang out together, had their normal study sessions, had lunch together when their schedules allowed them and texted every day but he would start responding harder when she would bring that dude up or would refuse to walk with them to classes or cafes his reasoning being that he wanted to give them privacy. He had to admit that he felt bad for ignoring her because of that dude but he really couldn't stand him.

      Today, however, he and she were supposed to have a movie night. Seungmin wanted to refuse when he first heard her proposal but after she suggested they do it at his apartment he accepted it. There's no way in hell that jackass would come to his apartment. He also missed her. He never realized just how much time they spend together until he started avoiding her.

      Everything was set for their little gathering. The only thing that was missing was Y/N but there still were 15 more minutes until she was supposed to arrive. Seungmin went into the tiny kitchen to take the popcorn from the microwave and put it in bowls. When he returned into what was supposed to be both his living room and bedroom he heard the bell ring. He placed the bowls on a small table close to his bed and went to open the door.

      When he saw her he felt the air leaving his lungs. She was always pretty but she was unusually breathtaking that day. He invited her in and they exchanged small talk before deciding on a movie. She seemed weird. Did she catch on the fact that he tried ignoring her? She seemed just fine the day before at lunch. When he made a comment about the movie and she hummed in approval instead of whining about him ruining the atmosphere he knew something was up.

      He analyzed her for a bit before finally deciding to ask her if everything was fine. "Are you ok? You seem so out of it tonight."

      She sighed before mumbling a short "I'm fine!" and continuing to watch the movie. Seungmin threw her a dirty look before snatching the remote from her side and turning the TV off. "Hey, I was watching that!" Y/N exclaimed stretching her arm for the remote.

      "And I'll let you continue if you tell me what happened. You are weirder than usual." Seungmin extended his arm in the air making sure she can't reach it.

      "I told you I'm fine!" She raised her voice still trying to reach the remote.

      "And I don't believe you!" Seungmin also raised his voice.

      "What do you want me to tell you? You want me to tell you that I and that jackass broke up? That you were right about him? That I'm incapable of having a long term relationship?" Y/N screamed in his face, immediately after getting up and going into the kitchen. Seungmin paused for a second before going after her.

      "He broke up with you? Why? This is why are you mad?" He bombarded her with questions and she wanted to curse him for having such a small apartment. He wasn't trapping her against the counter per se since there were a good one meter and a half between them but his kitchen was so small that he was blocking the only exit. She shouldn't have gone there. She gulped before answering him.

      "He didn't break up with me, I did!"

      Seungmin gave her a questioning look. "Then why are you mad about it?" His voice was softer than before.

      "I'm not mad about it!"

      "Then why are you mad?"

      "I don't know why I'm mad!" She screamed again and tried storming past him but he caught both her hands and stopped her. 

      Before she could try to escape from him he hugged her tightly rubbing her back soothingly. Y/N sat like that for a while taking in his smell before realizing what she was doing and pushing him away and going into his bedroom. She sat on the bed and turned the TV back on continuing to watch the movie.

      Seungmin sat down next to her cautiously and sighed loudly. "When did you break up? Was it today?" He asked her being curious about their sudden breakup. They didn't seem to have any problems when he last saw them together.

      "No, it's been two days." Seungmin looked at her in shook. Two days and she told him nothing about it. Why would she do something like that?

      "Why didn't you tell me?" She decided to ignore his question mostly because she herself was confused as to why she didn't tell him. "Come on Y/N! I'm your best friend! Would you really keep something so important from me for no reason?"

      "Oh well, I was gonna make a new boyfriend and break up with him in two months anyway so there was no point in burdening you with my problems. It's not like you care anyway!" She was shocked with herself unaware of where did that come from.

      "What?" Confusion was visible in both Seungmin's face and voice.

      "You always say how my relationships last only around three months. This was just another one of my many breakups. I'll get another relationship in a week, you don't have to worry about me!" She avoided his eyes even after she finished speaking.

      "Seriously? You know I never mean that in a bad way. You just have the awesome luck to find jackasses that break up with you the moment the relationship turns the slightest serious. This time, however, you broke up with him. You are never the one to break up. Why did you break up?" He was furious but at the same time, his voice had a glimpse of concern in it. 

      He really was confused as to why she chose to end it with that jackass. Not that he was mad, this was arguably one of the best news he received in the past year. Y/N was visibly biting the inside of her cheek contemplating whether she should tell him the real reason she broke up with him or not. After sighing loudly she turned her head to look him in the eyes.

      "Because of you." She finally let out the thoughts she tried to deny for the past two days.

      "Because of me?" If Seungmin wasn't confused enough before, he was now. Was this some kind of joke she tried to play on him? Why on hell would she break up with her boyfriend because of him? As if she could read his mind she started talking.

      "It started around two weeks ago. He suddenly asked me if the two of us really haven't been in any sort of relationship besides friendship. When I answered yes he said that it must have been hard to be always together and never fuck which I found weird coming from my boyfriend. Then every time he'll ask to do it and I'll refuse he'll bring you up again saying that if he was you maybe I wouldn't say no. Then you started avoiding us which I didn't found weird since you had a lot of assignments lately but he started saying things like you doing it to avoid seeing me with him or going to jerk off thinking of me."

      She breathed finally trying to collect her thoughts so she could continue. "Suddenly our relationship was revolving around you. If I did things I did them because of you and if I didn't it was also because of you. What kind of boyfriend does this to their girlfriend? It felt like he was indirectly accusing me of cheating." Her voice was fading slowly turning into a whisper. "And all that talking about you made me over analyze some of our past interactions, made me think of you in less than appropriate instances, made me..."

      She couldn't finish her sentence because Seungmin leaned in and kissed her stopping her from continuing. His lips were soft and tender and the kiss wasn't rushed. He was cupping her face with one hand and with the other he was holding her waist one of his fingers rubbing circles into it. It took her a second to kiss him back but when she did it was like everything around them stopped for a few seconds. When they broke the kiss she felt empty without his lips on her's.

      "Y/N, I.." Seungmin was cut short by Y/N that grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and smashed their lips together. 

      This time the kiss was more rushed, all the pent up frustration from staying apart for so long finally releasing. She licked his bottom lip asking for entrance which he gladly allowed not wanting to be apart for even a second. Both his hands were now resting on her waist touching her gently compared to the way his mouth was devouring her's. Soon his mouth left her's and went down to lay kisses from her jaw down to her neck.

      He tugged on her waist making her straddle his hips and immediately pressed her to his body. He continued his attacks on her neck occasionally sucking on it leaving red marks that were to become marks later. When he bit on one particular spot she let out a breathy moan and tangled her fingers in his hair for support. She tugged on his hair and brought their lips back together in a kiss that wasn't rushed but it was passionate.

      Without realizing, Seungmin forced her hips down on his thighs, her sensitive core rubbing on his rough jeans making her whimper. He smirked in the kiss and raised an eyebrow, tho Y/N couldn't see that. Seungmin broke the kiss and Y/N moaned in protest.

      "Aren't you quite needy?" He teased moving a piece of hair out of her face. "Jackass told me you wouldn't wanna do it and I just assumed it wasn't your favourite activity. I guess I was wrong?" He moved her hips again making her bite back a moan.

      "Seungminie!" Her voice sounded like a plead. What was she asking for? She wasn't sure herself. All she knew was that her best friend and she were oblivious to their feelings for too long and she didn't wanna wait any other second.

      "Hmm?" Seungmin hummed looking at her through hooded eyes. "Do you need anything?" He was just as impatient as her, maybe even more but seeing her like that made him want to tease her. So what if he waits a little bit more? If he gets to see her like that it's worth it.

      She let out an embarrassed sound at his words. She wasn't in the mood to play games but she knew Seungmin. She swallowed her pride and watched him in the eyes before talking. "Seungmin please touch me!"

      The man smirked at her words. "Gladly." Y/N went in for a kiss only to be pushed away by him. She watched his confusion visible in her eyes. "First take your clothes off. I wanna see how pretty you are!" Y/N blushed at his indirect compliment before getting up from his lap.

      Seungmin leaned slightly back, his eyes following her every move. Trying to ignore his gaze she took off her sweater and let it fall to the floor. The black bra she was wearing was hugging her breasts just the right way and Seungmin couldn't help licking his lips. She took her shorts off next being left in her underwear that didn't match. She regrets not wearing something sexier but at the same time, she never thought that her best friend and she would end up in this situation. If she hated it, Seungmin surely didn't. He thought it was cute and sexy enough for something as impromptu as that.

      He made a gesture with his hand for her to come closer. When she did he put his hands on her hips and leaned in to kiss her exposed ribs. He let his tongue draw figures on her skin while his fingers hooked the side of her panties and pulled them down her legs.

      "Look how cute you are." Seungmin moved one of his hands from her hips in between her legs rubbing her with his palm. Y/N shivered and put her hands on his shoulders. "Come sit on my thigh." His tone was soft but demanding at the same time making her obey his words immediately. After she made herself comfortable on his thigh he put his hands on her waist and leaned in to kiss her.

      His hands travelled up her back and once they reached her shoulder blades he moved them in front of her gently cupping her breasts. She let out a moan into the kiss and started slowly rubbing herself on his clothed thigh. Seungmin smirked into the kiss at her action, his hands pushing her bra down to expose her full breasts. His mouth left her in favour of her breasts and he started kissing the space between them, purposefully avoiding any sensitive areas.

      His teasing was making her wetter by the seconds but she kept a steady pace of her hips. Without any warning Seungmin's mouth wrapped around one of Y/N's nipples and he let his tongue circle it making her shiver. Her hands went into his hair and she started moving faster on his thigh. Seungmin put one of his arms on the small of her back pushing her stomach forward. The new position had her clit directly rub into his thigh, a loud moan escaping her mouth.

      "What was that? Does my baby enjoy riding my thigh that much?" Immediately after speaking, he bit the bundle of nerves harder than he intended. The stimulation combined with the pet name had her ridding him faster chasing for her release. Seungmin sensed the change of pace and grabbed her hips abruptly moving them agonizingly slow.

      "No, don't!" She whined trying in vain to move her hips faster.

      "Why? You don't need to hurry. Or are you perhaps desperate to cum?" Seungmin started moving her faster while sucking marks on her neck. Y/N nodded frantically feeling a knot building in her stomach. "If you don't speak I have no way of knowing what you want." He continued his attacks on her neck occasionally tracing the distance between two marks with his tongue.

      "Yes, Seungmin! I'm desperate to cum. Please let me cum!" Seungmin let go of her hips and instead cupped her breasts in his hands fondling them.

      "Whenever you are ready, baby." Y/N threw her head back and started moving her hips frantically, chasing her high. Seungmin continued to suck on her neck and play with her chest stimulating her further. She could feel her release approaching with each passing second.

      She finally came when Seungmin flexed his thigh, drenching his pants in her juices. She fell forward, breath hitched, body shaking from the intense orgasm she just had. Seungmin helped her ride her high by rubbing circled into the small of her back and whispering praises into her ear.

      When Y/N opened her eyes she observed the TV presenting the credits of the movie she was previously watching with Seungmin. She was now wearing a hoodie, most probably Seungmin's and an arm was snaked around her waist. She turned around slowly and she was met with a smiling Seungmin looking right back at her.

      "Are you awake?" He moved a few hair strands away from her before resting his hand on her arm.

      "Mhmm." She hummed softly enjoying the intimacy of the moment. "What happened?"

      "You feel asleep. Did I really made you feel that good?" He teased inching his face closer to her's.

      She smiled and threw an arm over his waist snuggling more into him. "Who would have guessed that our Seungminie was such a dominant one. Do you have any more surprises?"

      It was his turn to blush now. He hid his head in the crotch of her neck and squeezed her body harder. "Let's go on a date!" He whispered almost inaudible and if it wasn't for his head to be right next to her ear maybe she shouldn't have caught that.

      "I'd love to!"

[remmyswritings]

our future//charlie weasley x reader

HELLO, MY BEAUTIFUL PUFFS! HERE IS MY SECOND CHARLIE REQUEST FOR TODAY!

THANK YOU @peeves-a-legend​ FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL REQUEST: Alright, alright... Charlie idea time!! This is a pretty broad Ask, so lots of room to add your own twist to it. Hear me out... how about a trip to the future. Waking up in Romania, ring on her finger already, loads of dragons in their backyard, the whole shebang. Hope this sparks some inspiration love 💜

taglist: @curious-curios​, @summer-writes​, @willowbleedsonpaper​, @strawberriesonsummer​, @jenniweaslee​, @cherrycolakxsses​, @peeves-a-legend​, @booksmusicteaandanimals​, @heart-of-tempered-steel​

*Not my pic, found on Unsplash*

As you stood in front of you and Charlie’s shared dresser, staring down at the ring box that he had hidden away in his sock drawer, you wondered if he’d still consider asking you to marry him when he came back from London. You wouldn’t blame him for reconsidering- I mean you had said some pretty horrible things to him out of anger and jealousy when Dumbledore had ordered him to go to London for an important meeting and you were ordered to stay home in Romania. You understood why it was done- you were one of the last Blacks alive (other than your older brother Sirius) and both the Ministry and the Death Eaters were scouring the globe for you. Even if you wanted to see your brother and the Weasleys in person, the second you’d leave the wards surrounding your house you’d risk not only their lives but yours. Nonetheless, you couldn’t stop the anger running through you that night, and now the only thing you felt was guilt and remorse… and of course, you couldn’t contact Charlie at all because you knew that any communication sent by you would be tracked. So with all these emotions tumbling inside of you, you got ready for bed and slipped on one of Charlie’s sweaters that you loved and went to sleep.

You closed your eyes to only open them again you thought, but then you saw your Charlie lying in bed in front of you. Well… he wasn’t really your Charlie, he seemed like an older version of him. His hair was still that bright red color you adored, and from what you could tell he still had the same amount of scars and tattoos over his body. Even in your dream state, you couldn’t help but run your hand through his tangled hair. That’s when you saw it, not only the ring you had found in the drawer but a wedding band as well. Both of them fit your finger so well and you couldn’t help but admire them. 

With the distraction, you didn’t see the older Charlie wake up, “Good morning dove,” his raspy morning voice which you already love has gotten even more attractive.

“Hi,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering between the rings and his face.

He pulls you closer to his chest and grabs your hand with his, “Why is it that I always catch you admiring these?”

“Maybe cause sometimes this all feels like a dream to me,” you snuggle in closer to his chest.”

You feel his chest vibrate from his laughing at your antics but you can’t help it, your husband is like a huge heater, “You’re warm and you know how cold I get in the mornings.”

“I know,” he starts to run his hands through your hair and then down your back before they settle on your hips, “but dove, if you keep on snuggling into me I’m not gonna be able to get out of bed.”

You wrapped your hands around his back, “I don’t want you to leave though,” your minds instantly taking you to Charlie’s long workday at the reserve.

“Dove,” Charlie pressed tender kisses on your face, “did you forget that the reserve is letting me work from home for a bit?”

You hid your face in his chest and mumbled, “Maybe… that doesn’t mean I want you to get out of bed.”

“Come on dove,” Charlie rolled around and got the two of you in a sitting position where he then stood up, carrying you around your small cottage until you made it into the kitchen where he placed you on the counter.

You leaned your head back against one of the cabinets and merely watched Charlie as he made the two of you drinks: coffee for him, hot chocolate for you. When they were ready, he handed you yours before he went off to your room only to return with your comfiest socks and shoes and kneeled in front of you as he placed them on your feet. 

When he stood up, you jumped off the counter and grabbed the two drinks, letting him lead you to the backyard where his work was. Once outside, you saw all the baby dragons roaming around. Obviously, there were wards placed so that anything that caught fire would extinguish, but seeing them there and the way Charlie’s eyes light up, you hoped that this future wouldn’t just be a dream.

Then you heard it… Charlie calling out to you, but it wasn’t this Charlie. No, it was your Charlie…

You woke up slowly, hearing his voice above you before you saw him, “Hello dove.”

“Charlie,” you wrapped your arms around him quickly, practically tackling him in the process, “What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be in London ‘til the end of the week.”

He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you slightly so that you were no longer lying in the bed, “I didn’t want to leave you alone for that long Dove, and I didn’t like that we weren’t able to talk at all while I was there.”

“I’m so, so sorry love,” you started to cry a bit, remembering how you had ended things right before he left, “I shouldn’t have said any of that… you know I didn’t mean it right.”

Charlie pulled you away slightly and kneeled down so that you were face-to-face, “oh my dove,” he cooed, “I know you didn’t mean any of it. You were just frustrated is all… you know I tried talking to Dumbledore and I’m hoping that when Christmas comes around, you’ll be able to go with me.”

“Ya,” you went and hugged him again, your face going to the crook in his neck, “you didn’t have to do that love.”

He chuckled slightly and ran his arms up and down your back, “I had to do that dove. I couldn’t stand seeing you so hurt when I left… it seems as though you are feeling better now though.”

“Ya, I guess so,” you pulled away slightly, your arms still wrapped around his neck, “Wait… why are you looking at me like that?”

Charlie pulled the ring box that you had found earlier out of his pocket, “You left the drawer open, dove.”

“Oh,” your face began to feel warm, “I didn’t mean to find it… I was looking for one of your sweaters.”

Charlie merely looked from the ring box to you and then back to the box, “You know I’m sort of happy you found it now.”

“Really,” you smiled, “why?”

“Well…” Charlie brought one of his hands up to your face cupping it slightly, “I might have taken advantage of my mission to talk to your brother about the idea of us getting married, and when he said yes, all I wanted to do was come back here and propose.”

Happy tears began to fall down your face, “Please tell me you aren’t joking with me.”

Charlie shook his head before adjusting his body slightly so that he would be down on one knee and not two. Then he opened up the box and just admired you for a bit. You had already started nodding slightly and he couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“You know I still have to ask you the question before you give me an answer, dove.”

You merely looked at him, “You don’t need to ask me anything Charlie because I already know my answer… yes.”

Charlie smiled, a couple tears escaping his eyes as he grabbed ahold of your hand and shakingly placed the ring on your finger. He stood up and cupped your face before bringing you in for a passionate kiss, which then led to him placing kisses all over your face. You couldn’t help but laugh, those face kisses always made you laugh. 

When he finally stopped, you led him back to bed so that the two of you could cuddle- well actually for him to cuddle you and for you to just admire the ring on your finger, “Are you going to do that every time you see that ring?”

The question reminded you of your dream, “Oh, I definitely will.”

“And how do you know that for certain?” He teased you.

You grabbed Charlie’s hand in yours, “Because, before you showed up I had a dream…”

“And what was this dream about?” Charlie being genuinely curious since you weren’t one to discuss your dreams.

“We were married, a couple years older… you were still handsome as ever,” Charlie’s head moved so that it was leaning against your chest, “and we lived together in this cottage but instead of you going to work every day at the reserve you would just work with the baby dragons we kept in the backyard.”

“So we have baby dragons?” he looked up at you smiling.

You looked back down at him, “Is that seriously everything you got from my dream?”

“I already know I’m going to have everything else dove,” he snuggled more into you, “I was just hoping you can verify that we will have baby dragons.”

You kissed his head lightly, “For you, Charlie Weasley, I’ll deal with an adult dragon if I have to.”

[bandaged-writer]

“you are my soulmate.” || dazai

lyric prompts are still open ^.^

➤ Requested by: nonnie (I accidentally deleted the ask instead of saving it)

➤ Lyric prompt: "You are my soulmate."

➤ Pairing: Dazai x Reader

➤ Genre: fluff, romance, soulmate! AU, friends to lovers-ish(?)

➤ Warnings: none

➤ Word count: 2k

The remains of steam trickled down the foggy bathroom mirror while you were busy rubbing your wet hair dry, the smell of showering gel and shampoo lingering in your nose and relaxing your tense nerves. It had been quite the rough week at the agency; a couple of fights, tons of paperwork which your back hated you for and more than enough complaints from the neighbors about the noise and damage. Of course, you couldn't help but reward yourself with a nice, long shower.

Wiping the steam away from the mirror, you tilted your head at the monochromatic reflection staring back at you. There were no colors whatsoever, only a gloomy mix of black and white painted your world once again. Suddenly, you were reminded of the time your mother had told you about soulmates who would paint you a clear blue sky overtime, but what the hell was blue? What did it look like? You were already in your 20s, you doubted that your soulmate was close by - for all you knew, they could live across the globe or died already. Fate wasn't always kind, after all.

Shaking these memories away and wrapping a fluffy towel tightly around your torso, you finally stepped out of the comfort of your bathroom only to be greeted by a pouting mummy lazing around on your couch. "[Name]! Good that you finally finished your shower, the remote control isn't working anymore!" Dazai whined dramatically and held the defective device in his hands as if it had committed a felony. "I've been stuck having to watch a documentary about dogs! Dogs of all animals! Only your beauty can cure my eyes from what they had witnessed-"

Embarrassment heated your cheeks up while your hands were clutching your towel to your chest, your friend's words fell on deaf ears. "What the hell are you doing here?!" you yelled at the brunette and swung a trained leg at the suicidal man whose hand easily grabbed your bare ankle. "My sweet [Name], don't you know how lonely I am without a pretty lady to spend a Saturday with?," by then, you were already used to Dazai's flirty antics and only rolled your eyes at his sugar-coated words for they were nothing more but just that. "That gives you no right to break into my house while I'm showering!," you were beyond flustered, although even this wasn't exactly new. Dazai had seen you half naked numerous times over the course of your friendship and it had never gotten under your skin so deeply. "It's not breaking in when you showed me where the spare key is," a smug expression settled down on Dazai's handsome features as he showed you the glimmering key which was usually hidden in the flower pot in front of your door.

Just as you were about to give in, something weird happened.

For a moment, you could see Dazai's eye color, the shade of his hair and clothes. It was a mere flicker of faded paint filling your vision before your world went back to its monochromatic state and left you staring at your friend like a deer caught in headlights.

"Earth to [Name]," Dazai snapped his fingers in front of your eyes and whipped you back to reality where everything was very much black and white and not colorful. "Wait here, I need to get dressed," pulling your leg from Dazai's grasp, you made a run to your bedroom, slammed the door shut and let your back collide with the cool wood, small gasps leaving your lips as your breathing picked up in a horrifying realization.

The one person you were closest to made you see colors. The one person who knew you better than the back of his hand, knew every little flaw and imperfection and was the epitome of a suicidal womanizer.

No, it had to be a mistake. A simple miscalculation, a cheap trick of the eye. Yes, nothing but a mistake - you had heard of some people seeing colors from birth or they randomly gained the ability to see them without developing feelings towards anyone.

This would be a disaster.

_____________________

And oh boy, were you right.

With each passing day, the dreary monochromatic life you were used to, gradually disappeared and tainted your vision with colors you didn't want to see, because you could finally see that everything your co-workers had told you about Dazai was indeed true.

"What does Dazai look like?," doodling on a random sheet of paper and with coffee resting next to your computer, you threw the sudden question at Naomi who was one of the few people at the agency who could see colors. The ravenette raised a fine eyebrow, looking at you like you had lost your mind. "You don't suffer from long-term memory loss, do you?," a teasing cadence laced in her voice. Letting your body slightly slide down the chair, you leaned your head back against the furniture and pouted. "I know what he looks like! But like..what colors is he made up of?," it was a funny question - you considered Dazai your best friend and yet, you didn't know the color of his irises, of his coat, of the silly pendant he always carried around his neck. You wanted to see your friend.

Naomi's gaze softened at that, a tender curve finding home on her lips which made her eyes smile. It was a question so trivial that only few people worried about, and yet there you were, oblivious to the feelings that were so painfully obvious to everyone at the agency.

And so, Naomi told you about every color that was Dazai Osamu: from the black shoes, to the beige coat, to the blue pendant and his brown locks.

"I envy you for seeing so much more, Naomi."

Those words turned out to be a blessing and a curse alike.

On one hand, you could faintly make out the sparkle in Dazai's coffee-colored orbs but on the other hand, that sparkle was reserved for the pretty waitress of Uzumaki's whose hand he was currently holding, his mind smitten with the mere idea of committing a lover's suicide. You wish you wouldn't see them light up even though the color you saw was barely there, washed out.

"Would a fair maiden such as yourself allow me the honor of you accompanying me to the afterlife?," a moonstruck smile stretched Dazai's lips, his calloused thumb stroking the delicate knuckles of the waitress who remained unfazed by Dazai's attempt to woo her. It was a typical sight, yet why did it bother you? You had witnessed such scenes countless of times and even acted as the brunette's girlfriend just so he could get rid of another woman's unwanted affection. "Hmm, maybe if you have a life insurance," the waitress twinkled, clearly uninterested in Dazai's proposal.

You realized that not even a soulmate could tie Dazai down.

"Are you alright, [Name]?," Atsushi pulled your attention to the matter at hand which was assigning several cases to different colleagues, but even Atsushi could tell that you weren't really with him. He saw the way your gaze would travel to the counter where Dazai was keeping himself busy with the waitress, he noticed the way you'd only ever give him an occasional "mhm" or a short "yes".

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm good. Don't worry, Atsushi," you waved a dismissive hand in front of your face and put on the ghost of a smile which never reached your eyes.

"I was just thinking about how blue the sky is today."

_____________________

"Have you ever seen colors, Osamu?," mindlessly, you stared at the sake in the small cup held by your fingers, your body resting on Dazai's floor with the wall supporting your back. It was a lazy night of having a few drinks at the brunette's place, talking about anything that came to mind or letting silence and unspoken words fill the space.

Dazai effortlessly downed a shot and let the liquor burn his throat. At least, the drinks were less bitter with you around. "Well, have you?" Ah, that bastard once again avoided your question by asking his own and putting the spotlight on you. It was such a painfully obvious tactic to dodge personal questions, but it still worked every damn time. Or maybe you just needed to get some thoughts off your chest and run the risk of Dazai figuring out the secret you had only told Atsushi about.

"What do you think about it?," stupid how the two of you danced around the topic like it was poison which could bring death upon the both of you.

Sitting down opposite of you, Dazai scanned your face. The way your gaze was fixed on him like a magnet, the missing makeup, the slightly disheveled hair from work and the way your lips shone thanks to the lip balm you always carried with you. "You're a curious thing, aren't you?," a chuckle caressed your ears and you wished it was a bit more lighthearted, a bit less closed off. Dazai rested his elbow on his propped up knee in a lazy manner as he gathered his thoughts; it was something he had never talked about.

"I don't think I like the concept of a soulmate. After all, your soulmate can be dead or be against the beliefs you hold on to so tightly. It'd cause unnecessary conflict over and over again until both individuals grow tired of each other and eventually break up, no?," Dazai paused then sighed, his eyes drawn to the night sky outside. "Isn't it a bit mean to gift color only those who feel something like love towards someone?"

Those words were as bitter as the liquor scorching your throat, but could you really disagree? A soulmate was only a partner suggestion given by the universe and whatever created it. Many soulmates eventually got tired of one another, yet no one broke things off since having someone to come home to was comfortable. It was comfortable, but it was no longer love. "It is. I've been dying to see what colors you are," you admitted softly, hoping he couldn't tear through the lie and discover that you saw the color of the cut that he got from an earlier fight.

At that, Dazai smiled at you with tender eyes and tilted his head to the side, brown strands of hair framing his stupidly dreamy face. "Honestly? I've been wondering what your eye color is."

You swore the world just got more colorful.

_____________________

The day the colors reached their peak of vibrancy was the day your heart skipped a beat for the first time in quite a while.

In the background, you could hear Kunikida scolding Dazai and threatening to kill him with his own bony fingers jus because the brunette was trying to shove his reports to Atsushi. "I swear I'll make you see the end of your life!," the blond man yelled, clearly fed up with his colleague's antics and non-existent work ethics. "At least let me die with a beautiful woman by my side!"

You couldn't help the chuckle that left your lips. Their arguments never failed to squeeze a laugh out of your lungs even when you didn't feel like laughing at all. The agency was your safe place, it was your home.

"Oh, I spent an entire minute dealing with your crap although we should get going. Let's go, Dazai," Kunikida let go of his partner's collar, dusted off his pants like nothing happened and grabbed the keys for the car; no way in hell would he ever let the suicidal maniac drive, again. "Punctual as always, Kunikida," Dazai mock praised the blond and crossed his hands behind his head, a smile on his face.

"Ah, good luck, guys!," you called after Kunikida with quite the stack of paper in your hands and smiled up at Dazai who just..looked at you. You were about to tell him to hurry up and head out before Kunikida would scold him again, when he spoke in a hushed tone which was only meant to be heard by you.

"I like your lip balm. Red suits you."

[sonnetthebard]

Sypaul getting ice cream?

You know that SAF Horror Movie post that was supposed to be headcanons and I wrote it into a oneshot instead? Yeah, I'm back at it. Look, there's nothing I love more than those two wholesome gay werewolves. Genre: Fluff/ Romance Words: 2054 TL;DR: Paul and Sybilus go out to get ice cream? Is it a date? Not officially. Could it be? Very possibly. TW: There's literally none. It's all wholesome. It’s just a lot of gay panic.  ________________________________________________________

Paul sighed, walking down the streets aimlessly. He was back in Connor Creek, just for a visit. He liked to visit as often as he could- especially around the full moon. It made things a *lot* easier on him. Because even if he hadn't gone full werewolf yet, he did still experience a lot of the struggles that came around that time of month. It was good to be around other wolves- especially Desmond. And of course with the silver reserves, most of the less-than-ideal urges that came up that time of month were kept at bay. The full moon happened to be in two days, so... here he was again.

He wasn't quite sure where he was going. He was just walking, a bit bored. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he pivoted... so quickly that he fell flat on his ass. Smooth, Paul. Even worse: It was Sybilus. Sybilus, the one person he didn't want to see anything like him flat on his ass. Paul had developped feelings for Syb. He had always though Syb was cool, but... he'd started to catch himself daydreaming. He was good looking, sweet, smart, and... god, he had the coolest name! Paul hadn't meant to fall so hard, but... damn. Both men blushed at the situation they found themselves in. Paul felt bad, reacting like that. He was a bit jumpy... especially with the full moon so soon. Sybilus offered him a hand gently, and Paul took it, standing up.

"T-terribly sorry to have startled you." Sybilus blushed. "I, um..."

"Nah, my bad." Paul chuckled softly. "I'm just jumpy."

"I only meant to say hello... and ask you if you had any t-time- ah! P-p-plans?" Sybilus bit his lip nervously.

"Well... hello." Paul smirked. "And no I don't. Why?"

"I-I was thinking p-p-perhaps we could go into town." Sybilus proposed. "Not this town... the r-real city. M-m-maybe get something to eat?"

"Oh... I actually just had lunch at the Dead Canary." Paul told him. Shit. What was he doing? He actually wanted to go out with Syb.

"We could get ice cream, then. For d-dessert." Sybilus offered.

"Oh yeah! I would be so down for that!" Paul grinned.

"I only say we go into town b-b-because... I-I was going to suggest ice cream anyways. W-w-we don't have a-any real i-i-icecream places here." Sybilus sighed, walking with Paul. They now knew where they were going. To his car. "I-I would start one myself, but I'm rather busy with my other work."

"Maybe I should move here and start one." Paul thought aloud.

"Oh, Paul... y-you've got a very important job." Sybilus shook his head. "We need people like you t-t-to keep sharing the important news with the world."

"Oh yeah, but... I could podcast from up here. Drive into the city to record when I need to..." Paul theorized.

"Well... if you wanted, we could live together." Sybilus offered. "I-I mean you could live a-at my house. You're welcome."

"You know, I'm genuinely considering this." Paul chuckled, climbing into the car. "This could be fun. And it makes sense for me to be here, right? Why just... keep visiting for full moons?"

"You make a v-v-valid point..." Sybilus considered.

"Are you actually cool with me crashing with you?" Paul checked. "Because like... it makes sense, with the two of us being wolves."

"O-of course." Sybilus assured him, starting the car. "And you're right."

"Well that settles it. I'm moving to Connor Creek, running an ice cream shop, and working on my podcast from here." Paul decided.

"M-maybe you should think it over a little bit m-m-more." Sybilus chuckled, driving down the road.

"Yeah, you're right." Paul chuckled nervously.

There was silence in the car for a bit. Neither Paul nor Sybilus knew what to say. Paul had honestly just kept talking about the ice cream shop because he didn't know where to stop. It was awkward, but not tense. Overwhelmingly, if either one had been paying attention, they would have noticed the romantic tension. Both were very evidently interested in each other. But they weren't even able to look at each other with nerves. Paul tapped his fingers nervously. God, now he’d committed to *living* with Syb. He was so nervous that he couldn’t look at the guy but apparently he was going to live with him now. God, he was an idiot. Paul rested his head on his hand, looking out the window. 

“So... have you any idea w-what season three of Wayward G-guide is going to look like?” Sybilus asked. 

“No clue. Lesly hasn’t even told Artie and I that we get to do it yet.” Paul chuckled. “Who knows who it’ll go to.”

“Oh.” Sybilus frowned. “But you and Artemis did so well with it!”

“Yeah. Lesly’s weird like that.” Paul sighed. “Last I heard he’s looking for siamese twins. Who are also podcast hosts.”

“Have y-you considered podcasting independently?” Sybilus suggested. 

“I mean... kinda.” Paul shrugged. “But like... I don’t know. There’s something about Wayward Guide specifically that I just... I loved it.”

“Do you know what in specific that s-s-something might have been?” Sybilus tried to help. 

“I... not really.” Paul admitted

“Could it have been the s-story you were t-t-t-telling and not the actual podcast itself?” Sybilus pointed out. 

“You know... you could be right.” Paul realized. 

“Well... m-m-maybe you could do a podcast on the h-history or Connor Creek while you’re here. S-s-set up a little studio. My office is always rather quuiet, so you could use that.” Sybilus suggested. “M-maybe you could do a podcast on p-paranormal and s-s-supernatural histories throughout our country!”

“You know, that would be really cool.” Paul agreed. “I’ll talk to Artie about it. You know, since... we’re a pair.”

“Oh, of course!” Sybilus nodded. 

“Yeah...” Paul bit his lip. He looked to his feet. “Hey, Syb, can I ask you a kinda weird question?”

“Of course.” Sybilus assured him. 

“Is there anyone in Connor Creek who’s LGBTQ+ other than Donny?” Paul asked. Oh god. What was he doing? Where was he going with that question. How was he going to play that off? He got an idea. “I mean... just in case APN wants to use that kind of information to celebrate during Pride month.”

“Well... let’s see...” Sybilus thought aloud. “I believe that C-Crispin and Odie Doty were seeing each other before Odie’s unf-fortunate demise. Madison once brought a girlfriend to town council. They’d met at a ‘S-Small Town Law Enforcement Summit’. I always wondered what happened t-to that girlfirend- she was l-l-lovely. And, erm... I’m gay.”

“You are?” Paul started to beam. He caught himself too late, a blushing mess. Goddamnit he was giving himself away!

“Erm... yes.” Sybilus blushed. “I-I’ve never technically come out... no one really d-does in Connor Creek. You just sort of show up with a p-p-partner or two and everyone knows.”

“Huh.” Paul hummed. “I’m bi.”

“Oh.” Sybilus nodded. Paul nearly groaned at what he’d just said. He was real smooth, wasn’t he? Both drove in silence again for a moment. Sybilus pulled into a driveway. “We’re here! T-this is the ice cream shop.”

“So I can get the scoop on my competition.” Paul smirked. 

Internally, he was killing himself. Why was literally everything he was doing and saying to this man today the cringiest, most embarassing stuff in his playbook? Seriously. As far as impressions went... he was not making a good one, and he was sure of it. Well at least Sybilus was gay. He had half of a chance. Maybe if he could just calm the fuck down (or whatever it was he needed to do to stop acting like a total dumabss) he could talk Sybilus into getting dinner with him sometime... or maybe he would somehow manage to drive Syb away after he had made the first move. Paul froze. Oh god. Syb had made the first move.

“Are you okay?” Sybilus checked, already out of the car. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah!” Paul blushed, getting out. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be s-sorry.” Sybilus chuckled. “I get lost in my head sometimes too.”

“Right...” Paul sighed, walking into the ice cream shop with him. Even though it was a hot day, it was just the two of them and the teenage girl behind the counter. Sybilus walked up to the counter ahead of him, knowing how things worked there. 

“H-hello... I was h-hoping- ah! liking- ah! I-I would like two d-double scoop waffle cones please.” Sybilus stammered out. 

“Sure thing.” The perky sales attendant smiled knowingly. “What are the flavours on those scoops?”

“Y-you go first.” Sybilus blushed, looking at his feet. 

“Um... I’ll take one scoop rocky road, one scoop chocolate chip cookie dough.” Paul told her. 

She got to work scooping that. And that’s when Paul found himself doing somethign far too quickly to stop himself: he patted Sybilus’ back to comfort him. He could see how distressed the werewolf was, and... he felt bad. He shouldn’t have to be ashamed of his impediment. Both men blushed, looking to the floor. The tension was high. Paul was frozen, unsure of whether to own his actions or... retreat as fast as was humanly possible. But... he decided to own it, going further and rubbing his friend’s back. Sybilus was blushing even harder. Oh god. Had that been too much. He thought so until... a small smile creeped onto the werewolf’s face. Paul smiled back softly. What in the actual hell was going on with those two?

“Alright, here you go hon.” The attendant smirked, passing an ice cream to Paul. She turned to Sybilus. “What about you, sweetie?”

“One b-birthday cake and one cotton candy.” Sybilus told her. She scooped those two fairly easily. 

“Those ones are always so soft.” She told him, still smiling brightly. She handed him the cone. “Here you go.”

“H-how much d-do I owe you?” Sybilus asked, reaching into his pocket. 

“Those are on the house guys. Happy Pride.” The ice cream scooper winked. 

Both Sybilus and Paul blushed, looking at each other. They seemed to be silently asking each other if they let the girl do that for them. Paul shrugged as if to say ‘why no?’, and they both looked back to her. Paul smiled softly. 

“Thank you.” He sighed, taking Sybilus’ hand and walking back outside the shop. There was a little table out there, and he sat them down at that. 

“Well...” Sybilus chuckled nervoulsy. 

“Yeah.” Paul blushed, chuckling with him. 

“I suppose it would be appropriate to wish you a happy pride...” Sybilus smiled shyly at Paul. “I-I... suppose we’d make a handsome couple- o-or at least she thought so.”

“I mean, she’s not wrong...” Paul shrugged, before freezing. Him and Sybilus just stared at each other for a second, and Paul immediately felt guilty. “I am so sorry if that made you uncomfortable, it just-”

“I agree.” Sybilus cut him off. Both just stared at each other, a look of mutual realization hit them. 

“So, um... maybe she wasn’t so wrong then.” Paul tested. “Thinking we were a couple...”

“M-maybe she wasn’t.” Sybilus sighed. There was a pause. 

“So... is this a date?” Paul checked. 

“I-if you would like it to be.” Sybilus bit his lip. 

“Yeah... I think that would be great.” Paul smiled softly. 

“I-I know of a walking trail nearby i-if you would like to go- ah! W-walk for a bit.” Sybilus offered. 

“I’d love that.” Paul beamed. 

And so the two men got up and started down the road, still eating their ice creams as they went along. Paul hesitantly reached out and grabbed Sybilus’ hand, squeezing it. Sybilus blushed, looking over and him ans smiling softly, squeezing back. Paul supposed now that he had a boyfriend he’d probably have to come out to Artemis... if she didn’t already know. He was like 99% sure she was a lesbian though, so he should be fine. Twinsense... he supposed it made them both gay. He was pretty sure that he couldn’t be any happier than he was in that moment. And he was pretty sure Syb felt the same way. It must be the pride month magic, bringing them together- or maybe it was always meant to be this way. Who knows? Paul was just excited for the journey.

[justlookfrightened]

Birthday surprises

For the prompt: Jack secretly loves surprise parties

“So how did you celebrate Canada Day when you were growing up?’ Bitty asked, carrying the pie to the table. “Was it like the Fourth of July, with parades and fireworks and red and white bunting everywhere?”

“Sort of,” Jack said. “It wasn’t such a big deal in Montreal, because, y’know, Quebec. A few years ago they made it moving day in Quebec just to screw with the government in Montreal.”

“Moving day?” Bitty asked. “Wait just a second.”

He turned to the counter behind him and picked up a small Candian flag, which he stuck in the middle of the pie.

“Happy Canada Day!”

“Euh, thanks,” Jack said. “Moving day is when everyone’s leases end and their new leases start. So thousands of people are moving on Canada Day. There were always fireworks over the harbor, though. Sometimes we’d go see them if we were in town.”

“Well, then, happy moving day,” Bitty said. “So not much like Madison on the Fourth of July?”

“Bits, nothing is like Madison on the Fourth of July,” Jack said.

“I’m sure the fireworks aren’t as good --”

“I have very fond memories of the fireworks in Madison,” Jack said. “Best fireworks of my life. Are you okay staying here for the Fourth this year?”

Bitty shrugged.

“I guess so,” he said. “The shop’s just getting on its feet, and I can’t really take much time off yet, and that would mean flying down on the morning of the fourth and back the next day. And Mama and Coach said they’d come up to see us for a weekend before school starts down there. We can still go to the fireworks and all here on the Fourth, right?”

“Your parents are coming up?” Jack asked. “Do you know when?”

“Beginning of August,” Bitty said. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure their visit doesn’t conflict with your big birthday celebration.”

“My … what?”

“Your birthday?” Bitty said. “You’re turning 30 a little over a month from today. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“No, but a big celebration?”

“Oh, no, sweet pea,” Bitty said. “I meant ‘big birthday,’ like turning 30 is a big deal. Not a big celebration for your birthday. I know you don’t like that kind of thing.”

“Oh,” Jack said, looking down at his pie. “Okay. That’s good.”

“Unless you want my parents here for your birthday?” Bitty said. “I was thinking your parents might come, but … I’m sure my folks would be happy to.”

“No,” Jack said. “No, that’s fine.”

****

“I’m so glad you and Bits decided to do this,” Shitty said, taking another drag on his joint. “You guys aren’t usually around on the Fourth, but the rest of this summer looks crazy for me, and then you have the season coming up. I wouldn’t want it to be too long between visits.”

“Crazy this summer?” Jack said. “What’s up?”

“Work stuff,” Shitty said. “It looks like we’re going to trial against that chemical plant at the end of August, and it’s gonna be like seven days a week getting ready. I already told Lards to prepare for work-widowhood.”

“Yeah?” Jack said. “How’d she take that?”

“I’m not sure,” Shitty said. “You think I’m crazy enough to say shit like that when she’s awake?”

“Haha.”

“No, seriously, she’s leaving next week for a six-week residency at some artist colony in the Berkshires, and then she’s got a show to mount for the gallery at the end of August. I’m not sure she’ll even notice.”

“Come on, Shits,” Jack said. “You know she will.”

“I know,” Shitty said. “It’s just fucking hard sometimes, you know? I mean, it seemed like all the lawyers I knew when I was a kid had lunch and played golf all day. Plenty of time for fucking around. Too late I learned it doesn’t work that way in the public interest sector. And who knew being a successful artist was so time-consuming? How do you and Bits make it work?”

Jack shrugged. It was difficult, with his life consumed by hockey and Bitty’s time taken up more and more by a successful career in -- baking media? Jack wasn’t even sure what to call it, since Bits wasn’t just a baker, just a cookbook author, just an Internet and TV personality. He somehow did all of that, and just this summer had lent his name, personality, and talent to a new shop that sold both baked goods and baking equipment (toys for bakers, Bitty called them) in Providence.

“Remember Bits’ birthday in May?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Shitty said. “The big two-five. Remember how you wanted to throw him a surprise party? That was never gonna happen. Like that boy would ever let anyone else control the menu.”

“I guess you're right,” Jack said. “But I like surprising him. Remember Betsy II?”

“That was sweet,” Shitty said. “And the proposal at Faber, too, you romantic son of a gun.”

“Who told him about the surprise party in May?”

“Uh --”

“Was it you?”

“No.”

“Was it Lardo?”

“Um, she maybe told him not to make plans for that day? Because he was telling her he wanted to plan an overnight getaway because it was the only time it would work with your schedule?” Shitty said. “He took it from there. My understanding is that you caved under questioning.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I guess I did.”

“But don’t worry, brah,” Shitty said. “If I heard about a plan for a surprise party for you, I would totally warn you. I know you’re not into that.”

“Euh, okay?” Jack said. “But --”

“I got your back, brah,” Shitty said, giving Jack an exaggerated wink and nod just as Bitty and Lardo pushed open the sliding door and carried trays of drinks and snacks to the terrace.

“So what did we miss?” Bitty said. “Fireworks haven’t started yet, have they?”

“Nope,” Shitty said. “You’re just in time.”

****

“Jack?” Bitty asked, looking up from his laptop. “Do you know where you want to go for your birthday dinner?”

“Birthday dinner?” Jack said. “We’re not having it here?”

“Well, since I know you don’t like parties, and thirty is kind of a big deal, I thought maybe we should go out.”

“Who said I don’t like parties?” Jack said, pausing the tape of the last game of the Stanley Cup final.

“Please, sweetpea,” Bitty said. “I used to have to beg to get you to show your face at a kegster, and your mama’s told the story about you hiding under the bed to get out of going to that banquet more than a dozen times.”

“I was six,” Jack said.

“I know, sugar, and you haven’t changed a bit,” Bitty said. Then his eyes dropped to Jack’s chest, and lower, and Jack suddenly felt warm. “Except in the obvious ways. I was thinking Hemenway’s for seafood or maybe Waterman Grille or Al Forno with your parents. But it might make more sense to go the night before. Hemenway’s at least is closed on Mondays. Then on the night of your actual birthday, we can eat at home. Steaks on the grill, maybe? Do you want to invite your parents for that, too, or have it be just the two of us?”

Jack wanted to protest that he could want a party even if he didn’t want the debauchery of a kegster, and he shouldn’t be judged by his six-year-old self not wanting to go to a stuffy banquet (even if he still didn’t like stuffy banquets). But the moment seemed to have passed, and really, what Bitty was planning was fine.

Maybe he would get a surprise party for his fortieth, when he wasn’t playing and his friends’ careers were more stable and everyone had more time.

“Any of them are good, but Papa really likes Al Forno,” Jack said. “And I guess they can come on Monday for dinner, as long as they leave early.”

“Now, Jack, that’s not very hospitable of you,” Bitty said with a smirk. “I almost think you have plans. Maybe once I finish making this reservation you can give me a preview.”

He pecked at the keyboard for a few more moments and then closed the laptop.

“Ready when you are, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack clicked off the TV and followed Bitty to the bedroom.

****

“Maman?”

Jack had put off this call until Bitty left for the market.

It wasn’t like his husband was a busybody or nosy. It was just that, what with Jack’s schedule, and the wedding, and Bitty’s career, they were still in the condo Jack bought for himself in Providence when he signed. It wasn’t really small -- it probably had almost as much square footage as the Haus, and only two of them living there -- but it was mostly open-plan and Bitty would know if Jack was hiding in the office to call his parents. Which he was supposed to have done two weeks ago.

“Jacky!” his mother said. “It’s been ages. I saw those pictures you posted from your beach excursion last weekend. It looked like the two of you had fun. But I didn’t know you got a dog.”

“We didn’t?”

“But Bitty --”

“Was playing with a dog in a lot of the pictures?” Jack said.

The dog had run up to their picnic blanket when they moved off the beach proper, into the shady park, for lunch. Jack wasn’t sure exactly what kind it was. It was black and brown, like he thought of a German shepherd being, but much smaller, with long, skinny legs, a pointy nose and floppy ears.

Bitty had immediately started cooing over and petting the creature, despite Jack pointing out that they didn’t know who it belonged to, if it belonged to anyone, where it had been, if it was friendly.

“You don���t know if this dog is friendly?” Bitty had been incredulous. It was pretty ridiculous, given that the dog was more or less washing Bitty’s face with its tongue while Bitty giggled. “And she has a collar. And a tag. Stand still, girl.”

Bitty had still been trying to read the tag, and Jack was still taking pictures, when a teenage girl ran up, a leash in her hand.

“There you are, Eleanor! I’m so sorry! She just jumped out of the car and took off as soon as I opened the door. Eleanor, come!”

“No worries,” Bitty had said, holding the dog while her person clipped the leash to her collar. “We’re always happy to visit with a friendly puppy.”

Jack had been thinking about adopting a dog ever since, if only to see Bitty giggle so much. A dog that could go on runs with him, and keep Bitty company when Jack had to be gone … it might be a good idea. But it wasn’t something to surprise Bitty with. If they adopted a dog, it had to be a joint decision.

“That was just a dog that got loose and came to visit,” Jack said. “Although now that you mention it, I wonder if Bitty might like to have a dog around. I’ll have to ask him.”

“Judging from those pictures, I’m pretty certain he’ll approve,” Alicia said. “Now, did you need to talk about something?”

“Euh, the plans for my birthday?” Jack said. “Bitty wants to take you and Papa to Al Forno on the second, and then cook dinner here on the third.”

“Bitty wants to?” Alicia said. “What about you?”

“I’m not sure why we need to do both,” Jack admitted. “Either would be fine with me. But he seemed set on going out to celebrate because it’s my thirtieth, and a lot of restaurants are closed on Monday. And he was equally set on celebrating on the day of. But he has to work early the next day, so it’ll be an early dinner.”

“You never did like a lot of fuss,” his mother said, not calling him on what he thought was an obvious … not untruth, exactly, Maybe more of a manipulation? “Grumpypants. Of course your father and I will be there for both.”

“I don’t mind fuss,” Jack said.

“Jack, mon coeur, when have you enjoyed people getting together to focus on you?”

“They had a birthday dinner for me at the Haus,” Jack said. “Before my senior year. Bitty made a pie and everything.”

“Were you part of the planning for this dinner?” Alicia said. “Did you even know about it?”

“It just sort of … happened,” Jack said. “But it was nice.”

“Jack, dear, was that the first time Bitty made a pie especially for you?” his mother asked. “Forgive me, but that might have more to do with your fond memories.”

****

“Jack, what kind of pie do you want for your birthday?”

Bitty was sauntering between the farmer’s market booths while Jack trailed along, watching Bitty more than looking at the produce.

“Pie?” Jack asked. “Don’t most people get cake for their birthdays?”

“Do you even know me?” Bitty asked, then turned to examine at a table full of cherries.

Jack accompanied Bitty to the farmer’s market almost every Saturday in the summer. It was an errand, sure, but some weeks it was also the closest they got to a date.

Bitty would probably scoff at that. What did they need with dates, now they were an old married couple? Neither of their schedules permitted a regular date night most of the time, anyway. But in the summer, at least, they had Saturday mornings at the market.

“If you know me, you know what kind of pie I want,” Jack said.

“Maple-crusted apple,” Bitty confirmed, then shook his head sadly. “Have you seen these cherries, Jack? Or the blueberries? There will even be decent peaches up here by the beginning of August. Apples won’t be in season for another six weeks or so.”

It was a familiar argument with no heat in it.

Jack shrugged.

“I like what I like,” he said. “And there are always apples available. You know you’ll make it for me. And something else for whoever wants it.”

“See, you do know me,” Bitty said. He stopped in front of the booth with honey soap but paid it no mind. “Jack, are we becoming old and boring?”

“We always were old and boring,” Jack said. “From the beginning of time.”

“First, speak for yourself, old man,” Bitty said. “Second, I’m not sure whether that was a chirp or flirting. Don’t you know you had me at ‘Eat more protein’?”

“That’s not what you said then.”

“Hush,” Bitty said. “I mean, you don’t have to have the same thing for your birthday every year. Branch out a bit. Maybe a pear tart?”

“I wanted to do something different for your birthday, but then everyone went and told you,” Jack said.

“I’m sorry, sweetpea,” Bitty said. “I would have gone along with it and pretended it was a surprise, but I had to get out of other plans somehow. And people did want to eat. Good food.”

“By which you mean your food,” Jack said.

“I like to think I have a reputation to uphold,” Bitty said, stopping to examine some melons. “Truthfully, I kind of wish I hadn’t found out. You give good surprises.”

“Yeah?”

“Come on, you moose. You know I would have married you after you bought me Betsy II,” Bitty said. “Too bad parties aren’t your thing. Could you imagine a party with all your mom’s A-list friends and your hockey uncles, plus your team and Kent and all? It would be the talk of Providence.”

Jack shuddered.

“Definitely not my thing,” he said.

“I know, sweetpea,” Bitty said. “Besides, celebrating on our own has its advantages. Catch.”

He tossed Jack an eggplant with a smirk

Jack groaned. “Really, Bits?”

“Sorry,” Bitty said. “That was bad. I have what I need. Ready to head home?”

****

Jack was set up and sitting at his computer, half-listening to Bitty going on about whether his deadlines for the next cookbook were remotely reasonable, when the call from Tater came through.

“Zimmboni!” The image of Tater on the screen waved. “Hey, Tater,” Jack said.

“Is that little B?”

Tater’s face moved, like he was trying to see around Jack.

“Yeah, Bitty’s here,” Jack said, waving a hand to get his husband’s attention. “You want to say hi?”

Bitty leaned over his shoulder.

“Hey, Tater! You look good. How’s the family?” he asked.

“Everyone is good,” Tater said. “My mother and my sister Tatiana want to visit this year, so they can meet the baker I’m always talking about.”

“I’d be honored and delighted,” Bitty said. “Don’t forget those recipes you wanted me to try, alright? We can work on them together. You translate and I bake.”

“You speak better Russian you think!” Tater said.

“That’s what you think,” Bitty said. “I have to go to the shop. ПοКа!”

“Bye, Bits,” Jack said. “So, Tater, how’s the conditioning? You keeping up with it?”

“Of course,” Tater said. “Russian training every day.”

“And Russian home cooking every night?”

“Of course,” Tater agreed, grinning.

“How’s everything else?” Jack said. “When are you heading back?”

“Not long now,” Tater said. “No plane ticket yet, but early August, probably. We have dinner then, yes? To celebrate you becoming an old man.”

“Uh, we can have dinner,” Jack said. “But it doesn’t have to be for my birthday. Just to celebrate getting ready for a new season is enough.”

“Why don’t you celebrate?” Tater said. “I hear from Marty, Snowy, Thirdy, all the guys, that Jack is having a big birthday and didn’t invite them to the party. I say, ‘You know Jack. He probably isn’t even having a party.’ And they say, ‘You’re right, Tater. Jack hates parties.’”

“I don’t hate parties,” Jack said.

“You were not at Marty’s daughter’s party,” Tater countered.

“That was a kid birthday,” Jack said. “And Bitty had to go to New York for work that day, so I went with him.”

“Right,” Tater said. “But Bitty would be here for your party.”

“I’m not having a party,” Jack said.

“But you could if you want,” Tater said. “So you don’t want. So why do you hate parties?”

Jack ignored the question in favor of saying, “Just let me know when you're coming in, and I’ll pick you up at the airport if you want,” Jack said. “As long as you shut up about the party.”

“What party?”

****

Jack put on the new blue suit that Maman and Bitty had agreed (insisted, more like) that he should buy. He hesitated over the tie: stripes? paisley? miniature hockey sticks that Papa would find amusing?

No. If he couldn’t be sentimental on his birthday, when could he be? He picked up his pale blue tie, the one Bits told him brought out his eyes on his graduation day, and slid it around his neck.

Bitty was already ready, he knew, in a charcoal grey suit that he got from Jack’s tailor. Getting to see Bitty all dressed up almost made it worth it to Jack to put on a suit on a Sunday in the summer. Well, that and the look that Bitty gave Jack when he emerged from the bedroom.

“You always did clean up nice,” Bitty said. He picked up two boxes of baked goods -- a pie in one, and a couple of kinds of cookies in the other.

“You’re taking food to a restaurant?”

“No, of course not,” Bitty said. “The cookies are for Lauren downstairs. She has a shower to go to and she wanted to bring something. They’re shaped like … you know.”

“Babies?”

“No, a bridal shower,” Bitty said. “A lingerie shower.”

At Jack’s blank look, Bitty muttered something under his breath and said, “A party where they give the bride-to-be sexy underwear and tell naughty jokes.”

“So the cookies look like underwear?” Jack said, all innocence.

“No, Jack,” Bitty said. “They look like dicks, okay?”

“What about the pie?”

“That’s for your mom and dad,” Bitty said. “We’re supposed to meet them at the hotel. They can drop the pie off in their room and then we’ll go to dinner.”

That meant going inside the hotel, probably. Which meant parking and then retrieving the car, and pleasantries in the hotel lobby, and …

“Are you sure we’ll make our reservation?” Jack asked. “I’d hate to get all dressed up for nothing.”

“Aw, sweetpea, I think I can guarantee that won’t happen,” Bitty said, reaching up to pat Jack’s face and give him a peck on the lips. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

Jack pulled up at the hotel valet stand, and when he got out, said, “We’ll only be a few minutes. Keep it close, eh?” with a twenty-dollar bill folded into his palm.

“Your folks said they’d meet us down here,” Bitty said, heading into the lobby. His head swiveled and stopped when he caught sight of Jack’s parents at the hotel bar. Both had drinks in front of them. Great. They’d want to finish, and there might be a bill to settle, too.

He followed as Bitty picked his way across the lobby, exchanged a half-hug with his father while his mother swept Bitty into her arms, and then traded places.

“Jack, you look wonderful,” Alicia said, finally letting go and holding him at arm’s length. “You both do. This summer has agreed with you.”

“Thanks, Maman,” Jack said. “You look great too. Um, are you two almost ready to go?”

“The pie, Jack!” Bitty said.

“Oh, and I have something upstairs to show you, Bitty,” Alicia said. “Come up with me and we can leave the pie in the room.”

“Fine,” Bob said. “That’ll give me time to watch the end of this round.”

Jack looked at the TVs above the bar. He couldn’t mean the golf tournament? Who knew what time that would end? But it was that or … competitive cornhole?

“Only a couple more tosses,” Bob confirmed. “If this one pushes that bag in, they’ve got it.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Jack said.

“Oh, come on, Jack, relax.” Bob said. “It’s fun. Sit down and tell me about your summer.”

“It’s been more Bitty’s summer than mine, with the shop and this new book he’s working on,” Jack said. “He’s been busy.”

“I remember those days,” Bob said. “When I’d finish the season so tired I didn’t know how I’d even haul myself upstairs to the bedroom, and by the time I was ready to face the world again, your mother would be on location on the other side of the world somewhere. I always wondered why our schedules couldn’t align.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Jack said.

“Of course not,” Bob said. “Any more than it was mine. Hockey season is hockey season, and filming schedules are filming schedules, and cute little shops on streets popular with tourists open during the summer.”

“No, I know,” Jack said. “I wasn’t complaining.”

He stopped at the look his father gave him.

“Okay, I was complaining, but not about Bitty,” Jack said. “Just the way things worked out this summer. I was thinking we could maybe have a party for my birthday this year --”

“You haven’t wanted a birthday party since you were eight!”

“Not a big party,” Jack said. “Just a few people. But Shitty’s in the middle of preparing for a big trial, and Lardo’s off being an artist in residence somewhere, and Tater’s not back yet. Bitty’s too busy to plan anything anyway, and no one would let me plan it.”

“Get it all out, son,” Bob said. “Before your mother and your husband get downstairs. Even if Bitty didn’t plan a party, he did plan this evening for you, and it doesn’t do to feel sorry for yourself on your birthday. Especially when you have someone who thinks the sun rises and sets on you like he does.”

“I know,” Jack said, then caught sight of the time on one of the TVs.

“Oh, no. We’re late for our reservation.”

“We’ll make it.”

“No, we’re late. Already. Maybe I should call them?”

He was picking up his phone when he saw Alicia, carrying a large shopping bag, and Bitty crossing the lobby from the elevator. Bitty was on the phone. Of course he had it handled.

Bitty did not have it handled.

He hadn’t said anything about the reservation to Jack on the way to Al Forno, just squeezed Jack’s hand on the console as they pulled away from the hotel.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight,” Bitty said.

They left the car with the restaurant valet and headed straight into trouble.

“Bittle-Zimmermann, party of four,” Bitty told the maitre d’. “We have reservations.”

The maitre d’ scanned his sheet, made a face, and looked up at Bitty.

“This reservation is for thirty minutes ago,” he said.

“I know,” Bitty said, “And I’m sorry we’re late.”

“Surely half an hour can’t be a problem,” Bob said, trying to shoulder his way into the conversation, folded bill just visible between his fingers. “We promise not to linger. It’s my son’s birthday.”

“Papa!” Jack hissed, tugging at his father’s sleeve like he was eight years old again. “Let Bitty handle it.”

“Yes, Bob,” Alicia said, drawing herself up to full height and looming over the desk. “My son-in-law, Eric Bittle-Zimmermann, has this under control.”

Jack took a moment to be pleased that his mother knew Eric’s name would have more clout than theirs in a restaurant.

“I’m sorry,” the maitre d’ said. “But we gave that table away not five minutes ago. We didn’t think you were going to show up.”

“We can wait for another table,” Bitty said.

“Not tonight,” the maitre d’ said, looking truly regretful. If Bitty had liked the dinner and mentioned it on his vlog, that would have been very good for the restaurant. “We have a large private party coming in. I’m afraid it won’t be possible.”

Bitty’s face fell and Jack’s heart clenched.

“It’s fine, bud,” Jack said. “We have the food for tomorrow at home. We can go make dinner, and then head to the store in the morning. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Bitty said. “It’s your birthday. I planned this dinner, and it’s my fault it got screwed up. Your mother wanted to show me your present and I got to rambling on … and why can’t I pay more attention? I’m sorry, Jack. I spoiled your birthday dinner.”

“Bitty, it’s okay, really,” Jack said.

“Perhaps next week?” the maitre d’ suggested.

“But then it won’t be Jack’s birthday anymore,” Bitty said.

“Perhaps the gentlemen would take a coupon for their next meal here?” the maitre d’ said. “For the inconvenience.”

“That’s not necessary,” Bitty said. “It was my fault.”

“I insist,” the maitre d’ said.

Jack took the offered envelope and slid it into his jacket pocket.

“Come on, Bits,” he said. “It’s not the end of the world.”

He ducked closer and whispered, “At least we can get out of the suits, eh?”

“Jack!” Bitty said, giggling through his frown. “Your parents are here!”

“Not what I meant, bud,” Jack said, but he grinned, because he’d gotten a laugh from Bitty.

“Need anything before we go home?” Jack asked while they waited for the car. “Or do you want to just pick up dinner on the way?”

“I think we have all the food we need,” Bitty said. “Maybe a bottle of champagne? Shoot, no, it’s just after six.”

“Just after six?” Bob said.

“Rhode Island law,” Jack said. “No packaged liquor after 6 p.m. on Sundays.”

“So unless you want to drop me at home to get started and drive to Attleboro, a champagne toast will have to wait for tomorrow,” Bitty said.

“We don’t need champagne,” Jack said. “Come on, let’s head home.”

Jack drove again, Bitty in the passenger seat next to him, his parents in the back. It was completely normal, and that thought struck him as odd. Here he was, 30 years old tomorrow, married to Eric Bittle, the love of his life. His parents loved Eric, too, and were here to celebrate with them, and in a few weeks he’d be getting ready for training camp for next season. He wished his 18-year-old self could have seen this future. It was better than anything he’d ever expected.

He would have liked to celebrate with Shitty and Lardo, Tater, maybe Marty and Gabby and Thirdy and Carrie, but this was good, too. Better than he had any right to expect.

He stopped at a red light and glanced at Bitty, who was also looking at him, a sly grin on his face.

“What?” Jack said. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s your birthday,” Bitty said.

“Not until tomorrow,” Jack said.

“You know what I mean.”

Jack took Bitty’s hand in the elevator when they got back to the building and held it for the whole ride up. He was still holding it when he got to the door and opened it.

He dropped it as the crowd shouted “Surprise!”

“What the --”

“Surprise, sweetpea,” Bitty said, reaching up to whisper to him. “You can still change out of your suit if you want.”

“Jackabelle!” Shitty was there to claim a hug. He wasn’t dressed in a suit, but he was dressed. Jack probably should thank Lardo for that. And there she was, hanging back, talking to Gabby.

So Marty was here somewhere -- by the pool table, talking to Tater while Snowy lined up a shot. Thirdy was in the corner, deep in conversation with Coach Bittle, and there were Suzanne and Carrie bringing more napkins in from the kitchen.

The island was covered with catering trays from … Al Forno, and Jack could see a maple-crusted apple pie among a selection on the kitchen counter. There was also a cake and some cake pops (for the kids? Were they here?) and it looked like someone (Shitty, probably) had been serving drinks from the bar. There was a bottle of champagne chilling.

Jack’s mother slipped past him to deposit the gift bag on the hall table with the other gifts.

“Happy birthday, Jacky,” she said. “When Bitty said our job was to help distract you, I wasn’t sure we could pull it off. I thought you might insist on leaving for the restaurant too early.”

“You were in on this?” Jack said.

“Everybody was,” Bitty said. “Even the maitre d’ at Al Forno.”

“But the gift certificate …”

“A gift from me to you,” Bitty said. “For when we can have dinner, just the two of us.”

The rest of the evening went by in a blur of conversations and congratulations. Marty and Thirdy’s kids were there, hiding in the guest room, watching gamers play Animal Crossing on YouTube and coloring, but they came out to help blow out his candles.

“What about your trial coming up?” Jack asked Shitty. “And your residency?” he asked Lardo.

“Those are both real,” Lardo said. “But a funny thing about being an artist in residence: They don’t lock you in. And Shits needed a break for a little while.”

Coach Bittle looked tickled to be sharing a room with so many professional athletes, and Suzanne helped Bitty shuttle food and dishes in and out of the kitchen.

“Told you they’d want to celebrate your birthday,” Bitty said. “They flew in this morning and Shitty picked them up at the airport. They were waiting around the corner for us to leave.”

“You do like parties!” Tater boomed at Jack before leaving. “I knew it! But it took your husband to invite me.”

“That’s because it was a surprise, Tater,” Bitty said. “Jack didn’t know.”

Once everyone was gone -- not too late, because it was a Sunday -- Jack helped Bitty stow the leftovers and wash the dishes.

“How’d you know?” he asked Bitty.

“Know what, hon?”

“That I wanted a party,” Jack said. “A surprise party.”

“Jack, sweet pea, you’ve been moping around this house for weeks,” Bitty said. “All woe-is-me because your friends were busy this weekend. Of course you wanted a party. And you wouldn’t have tried to plan a surprise party for me unless you at least didn’t hate the idea.”

“How did you do such a good job planning it?” Jack said. “I really didn’t know.”

“You don’t have a suspicious mind?” Bitty said. ”Now come on. It’s nearly midnight. Let’s get to bed and you can have another birthday surprise.”

****

Jack groaned when he opened his eyes the next morning. It was late, later than he usually slept anyway. But he’d been up late the night before.

He could hear Bitty in the kitchen, opening drawers and moving plates and cookware around. Coffee was ready, probably.

He got up, dragged a T-shirt over his head and tugged on a pair of shorts, and wandered down the hall.

“Morning, bud,” Jack said.

“Jack, happy birthday!” Bitty said. “Breakfast’s almost ready, and I put all the cards and gifts from last night on the table.”

Jack worked his way through them, shaking his head at Shitty’s selection of boxer briefs emblazoned with the logos of female superheroes and grateful for the small painting from Lardo. There were restaurant gift certificates and a tie from Papa (“You always wear that old blue one!”) and reading glasses from Marty.

Then he opened his mother’s gift. It was a flat box, and it held a red leather leash and collar, along with a gift certificate for adoption fees from the animal shelter.

The enclosed note said, “I think this will be a good gift for both of you, but of course I’m not about to surprise you with a puppy. Take your time deciding which dog to adopt. In the meantime, know that there was also a $10,000 donation in your name to help support all the animals.”

“Bits,” Jack said. “Did you have any plans this morning?”

“Nothing in particular,” Bitty said. “Maybe see my parents at some point. D’you mind if they come for dinner?”

“Of course not,” Jack said. “But do you think we could go to the animal shelter?”

[tloujm]

Part XVII: Funnel of Love

Author’s Notes: Sorry it took so long.

Genre: Fluff + Angst = this chapter

Summary: This takes place right after the last chapter. The newly engaged couple share the news with their loved ones. The wedding planning pressure is on. 

Ship: Joel x Reader

“Well, well, well. Big bro is doing it for real this time, huh.” Tommy began with a wide grin on his face. “Congratulations, Joel. I mean it. I always knew it was gonna be the two of you since the first day y’all showed up at the gates.” Joel relieved one of the watchtower guards so he could talk to Tommy about the proposal. They were both up in the small wooden shelter, rifles in hand, glancing between each other and the world beyond the gates.

“Thanks, brother.” Joel donned a bashful smirk.

“So do I get to be best man?” Tommy asked.

“Weren’t you already best man?” Joel countered.

“Yeah, but that time didn’t really count.” Tommy explained. Joel shot him a glare as a response to the dismissal of his first marriage. He knew that this time was different though, so he couldn’t blame him.

“‘Course you’re my best man.”

*****

“Joel? Miller? Of the infamous Miller brothers?” Jesse exclaimed.

“You knew we were together.” You said. Jesse was your closest friend at the settlement, therefore, he was the first person you told. You had reservations about sharing the news with him because, for a moment while you and Joel were broken up, you grew feelings for Jesse. It was something you never shared out loud or in your journal. Not sure of whether the feelings truly stemmed from Jesse himself or your emotions from Joel, you didn’t feel right giving weight to those thoughts. Despite Joel’s suggestion, you always figured Jesse’s feelings were purely platonic anyway.

“Yeah, I know. It just seems very official. I didn’t think people still did that these days.”

“He did manage to surprise me. It was very romantic. You should take some notes just in case you feel compelled to do the same with a special somebody.”

“Take notes? From Joel? Miller? I can be quite romantic on my own, thank you.” Jesse turned to you. “But listen, I’m happy for you. Whatever you need for your upcoming nuptials, let me know.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You responded. It fell silent for a moment while the two of you were cleaning up the stable. 

“I bet you Joel can get you guys a senior discount on a wedding cake from the bakery.” Jesse spoke up. He broke into a fit of laughter as you dropped your broom and threw a handful of hay at him.

“He is not even that old.” You responded defensively.

“No, no. He’s just regular old.” Jesse reasoned jokingly.

“He’s young at heart!”

“(Y/N), He plays the guitar on a rocking chair and whittles for fun.”

“He does other things for fun that I can tell you right now he is not too old for.” You replied with a coy tone in your voice. 

“Alright, alright.” Jesse shook his head playfully and continued sweeping up the straw on the ground. “The jury is still out on how old he is, but I suppose we can both agree that he’s not geriatric.” He reflexively ducked when he heard you drop the broom again to pick up some more hay. 

“So I’m invited to the wedding then?” He asked seriously.

“Of course you are! You’re my best friend.” You replied.

He clears his throat. “Yeah…”

*****

“Honey, I’m home.” Joel said. The words flew out his mouth in a jovial tone. He had never said those words before. It reminded him of a husband from the 1950s coming home from a day at the office. That particular visual didn’t enthuse him, but the idea of seeing you again did. He knew that he’d never wear a suit and work in an office, but he hoped that the rest of his life consisted of coming home to you.

“My love, I’m in here.” Your voice carried from the kitchen. He quickly followed until he stopped right behind you. His arms snaked around your waist as he kissed the top of your head. “What did you do today?”

“I spent some time with Tommy.” He went to go sit down at the island.

“Oh?”

“He asked how our trip went.” He began. You turned to face him.

“You told him about us?” You asked, smiling. He nodded.

“Yeah,” He chuckled. “He asked to be my best man. Did you tell Maria?”

“Yeah, I told her after Jesse.”

“Oh good. He knows.” He began sarcastically. “I better stop catchin’ him gazing at my bride then.”

“Joel, stop. He always knew we were together. But as for Maria, she was super excited. She started talking about wedding stuff like we weren’t living in some fungal zombie infested world. It’s not like I can go dress shopping, or cake tasting or pick out venues. I mean honestly, what’s the point of a wedding?”

“You don’t wanna have a wedding?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “All I want is to get married to you. She was just planning it all out the second I told her and I was feeling overwhelmed.”

“She’s just excited. Take a breath then go back and talk to her. If anyone’s got the connections to throw a wedding, it’s her.”

“What was your wedding like?” You asked.

“You wanna know?” You nodded. He sighed. “It wasn’t much. We cut costs wherever we could so I wore a hand-me-down suit from my dad and Tommy wore a hand-me-down suit from me. The only thing that matched on our suits were the buteniers. It was in one of her aunt’s backyard. It was dead in the middle of summer after school let out, but the only decorations were red, green and blue Christmas tree lights that she put on the bushes. I remember her aunt tasked me and Tommy with going to get some flowers. She gave us some money, but my God, I had no idea how expensive real flowers were. I bought Sarah’s mom a bouquet from the florist while Tommy dumpster dived for some dying flowers that they had just thrown out for the rest of the wedding party.” He shrugged. “The ceremony was quick. The reception was a potluck; everyone brought a dish and their own fold out chairs. Outside of my cousin singing a song, the music was from a boombox. It was simple, but it all came together. I had my own issues with my parents and her side of the family didn’t like me much after I knocked her up, but for that one day, we all got along and it was nice.” 

“Oh. Wow. At least everyone got along.”

He chuckled. “I know it was nothing impressive. It was a shotgun wedding for a couple of teenagers. But I don’t want you to worry about how that went. What matters is now and how we want things to go for us.”

You smiled. “Our wedding can go the exact same way and I wouldn’t care so long as you’re there.”

****

“So,” Maria slammed down a stack of wedding magazines on the coffee table. “I think looking through these would be a good start.”

Maria invited you and some other women over one evening to have a girls night. She had never done this before, but she felt your impending marriage was a good excuse to have one. You didn’t have many female friends. Most were acquaintances, so none of them were as close as Maria and Wendy to you. They were there, but so were a handful of others you’ve only ever spoken to in passing.

Maria had a growing wine collection. She would trade for a bottle or two every so often. For your special occasion, she dusted off two bottles. Wendy made you a homemade pin that said “Bride to be” which she insisted you wear all night. Maria passed the magazines all around the circle you guys made on the floor.

“Maria, where did you get all of these.” You asked.

“I’ve had them all this time. While I was on a scavenging trip one day, and this was years and years ago, I saw them and grabbed them. It was impulsive. I don’t know. Me and Tommy had been together for a while and you know, naturally I started hearing wedding bells even though he never really proposed. I know it's silly to expect happiness in the middle of all this craziness, but it became normal for him and I and despite all this, he stuck by my side. I spent my whole life pre-outbreak wanting a wedding. I mean I wasn’t obsessed with it, but what girl doesn’t want a little fairytale wedding?”

“Tommy never proposed? I thought you guys were married?” Sheila spoke up in between sips.

“We’re basically married. Obviously not under law, but we committed ourselves to each other. I wanted to stop running and just build a future, even a tiny one, for us. He wanted the same. So we settled down and built this place. Well ‘settle down’ as much as we can in this type of world now. But, it was all casual. He brought it up one day while we were eating. He asked if I’d ever want a husband. He asked if it mattered to me.”

“What did you say?” Wendy asked.

“I told him, of course it mattered. At least to me. He gave me that famous Miller half smile,” Maria looked to you as to say ‘You know what I’m talking about’. “And asked if I thought he was husband material. I kinda strung him along for fun. I told him ‘As close to husband material as he can get’. He let out this little laugh and said ‘Well it’s settled then.’ and I thought to myself, I get to be someone’s wife! But not just anyone’s wife, his wife. At that point I couldn’t stop smiling. It wasn’t a proposal in the traditional sense. I guess it still counts, but we never did anything about it since. I guess we just assumed marriage from that point on. We expressed our love for each other, but never spoke the traditional vows. He never called me his fiance. As a matter of fact, the first time I heard him call me his wife to another person was when you and Joel showed up at our door.” She spoke in a roller coaster of tones, switching between enthusiastic and disappointed. “So I want you to have something special to commemorate this moment with. It’s not going to be a big, fancy wedding, but something nice nonetheless.” She said to you.

“Thank you.” You replied.

“Ohhh, look at this dress! I think this would go great with your figure, honey.” Darlene stated as she handed you the opened magazine. You admitted it was nice, but you couldn't see yourself in it. 

“That’s a bit plain, don’t you think? How about this one.” Maria handed you her magazine. The dress was exceptionally grand. It had a train and was adorned with crystals and lace.

“That’s quite the dress, Maria.” You commented, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

“But do you like it?” She asked.

“I do,” It wasn’t a whole lie. “But what’s the point in looking at dresses? I��m not gonna be wearing any of them from these magazines. I don’t own any white dresses at all. Just a white t shirt with sweat stains and holes in ‘em.”

“It doesn’t hurt to fantasize a little bit. Besides, maybe we’ll go out and find a store with something nice to wear inside.” She replied. 

“Drink up, honey, you're supposed to be happy.” Darlene said as she watched you nurse your glass.

“I am happy.” You replied with a straight face.

“Let’s play This or That and let’s pretend it was 13 years ago and the world was normal again. I’ll ask you to choose between two different things, wedding themed of course. I want you to give me an answer quickly to ensure it’s the truest answer.” Maria suggested.

“What were you doing 13 years ago?” Darlene asked you.

“Just graduated college. Didn’t even get a chance to apply my degree anywhere.”

“Oh, you were just a youngin’. Still had milk ‘hind your ears.” She playfully slapped your thigh. “And let’s see...Joel must have been how old…” She pondered seriously.

“Vanilla or chocolate?” Maria spoke up.

“What?” You asked.

“Cake. Vanilla or chocolate for your wedding cake?”

“Uh, chocolate.”

“Outdoor or indoor venue?”

“Indoor, I guess.”

“DJ or band?”

“DJ?”

“Lillies or Peonies for your bouquet?”

“I don’t think I know what peonies look like, to be honest.”

For the rest of the night, you and the other women played wedding themed games that you were sure Maria made up. They fiddled with your hair and dabbed beet juice on your lips and cheeks to appear as makeup. Despite Darlene rubbing you the wrong way, you took her advice and ‘drunk up’. Getting loose helped, but it still was all a bit overwhelming to you. Part of you wanted the fairytale like Maria said, but part of you didn’t even want it at all. While a fairytale would look nice, it would come with too many cons and then you would think ‘what was the point’. There would be too many people, and as an introvert, you weren’t prepared for that. Having to coordinate a large amount of food to feed the party, acquire a form of entertainment to keep everyone busy, ceremony rehearsals, picking loyalties when choosing between your sister in law and your good friend for made of honor and so on. Honestly none of your female friends were as close to you as Jesse, though, but you didn’t think he nor Joel would be cool with him being your main bridesmaid. 

Still buzzed, you walked into your empty house and beelined it to the bathroom. You sat at the edge of the tub, warm water running through your fingers as you watched it fill up. You grabbed your portable CD player and headphones out the drawer next to the toilet. You adjusted yourself into the inviting bath and immediately slipped your head under the surface. Being underwater was always a relaxing feeling for you so long as you knew you were in control. Your hands held onto the sides of the tub, keeping you under. You stayed there with your eyes closed until you couldn’t take it anymore. The curls of your hair laid flat against your head as you took in a large breath. As weird as it was, it helped the anxiety that you were currently harboring. The cherry on top was your music. You reached over the edge and felt for the play button before sliding the headphones over your ears. Again, you closed your eyes. You weren’t thinking about anything in particular: your patrol duty tomorrow morning, your promise to have lunch with Maria and Darlene, and sure as hell not your wedding. 

The buzz was wearing off, but the warm water took over the job and continued to relax your muscles. You were three songs into the album you were listening to when they abruptly tensed up. Your eyes popped open at the sudden splash of water that landed on your chest. It felt as though only a moment ago you were alone in the world and now sitting on the edge of the tub is Joel. He watched as you scooted up, sloshing the water around. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to splash you that hard.” He chuckled before pointing to your CD player. “You gotta be careful with this, (Y/N), you know. Gotta have your wits about you even in a place like Jackson---”

“I know, I just wanted to unwind for a moment---” You butted in.

“I don’t mean to chastise you like you’re a child, but I just want you to be safe. What if it wasn’t me here.”

“All the doors are locked.” You reasoned.

“Still.” He gave you his famous glare for a solid moment before his eyes drifted down to your body in the water. “Room for one more?” He lifted his eyebrow.

You frowned. “I was about to get out.”

“Didn’t look like that to me, darlin’. If I’d chosen to watch you for longer, you’d still be laying there with your eyes closed.”

“How long were you watching me for?” You asked, starting to feel a mix of self consciousness and arousal.

“Doesn’t matter.” Joel’s face was rid of emotion save from his eyes. His eyes were lit up with lust despite your rejection.

“The water was getting cold. I was just waiting for the song to end before getting out.”

He lifted the same eyebrow. “Is that so?” His eyes followed your body as you stood up in the tub. He unfolded his arms and grabbed the towel on the back of the door. Holding it out, you stepped out of the tub and into the soft fabric. He slid his hands up your arms before massaging your shoulders. His hands were rough and ungentle, but you still let him continue. “Baby, tell me what’s wrong. Who hurt you? I’ll go grab Tommy’s bat and smash their kneecaps in.”

You chuckled. “While I’m sure you would,” You turned around, releasing your shoulders from his grip. “No one hurt me. I’m just...I just got some stuff on my mind.”

“Care to share?” He asked. You shrugged. “Was it something that happened at Maria’s?”

“She threw me a bridal shower.”

He sat on the toilet and pulled you down onto his lap. “That was nice of her.”

“I mean yeah, it was nice. It just...It felt forced. Women were there that I hardly knew. We were planning the wedding, imagining details I knew would never work. I feel like Maria wants this to happen more than I do and I hate that. I should want this the most. I mean I do want this,” You point between you and him. “But I just don’t know how I want to go about it. I thought seeing her again would help me make up my mind about things, but I feel just as confused and flustered.”

He kissed your shoulder. “I don’t want you to stress out over this. It’ll all work out, because the most important thing in the end is that we have each other. I promise,” He kissed your shoulder again. “Ok?” He waited for you to say it back before tapping your thigh. “Now, just because you didn’t want me to get in with you doesn’t mean I don’t want a nice, relaxing bath too. Last chance before you put your clothes on.” He pointed between you, him and the tub as if asking for you to join him. 

You smile with a shake of your head. “No, my skin is all wrinkly but I promise to only keep the towel on if you promise not to make me wait long.” You winked at him. 

[svtntntn]

peace of mind

fake dating!au x co-workers!au

inspo: one of the sideplots from the kdrama 'romance is a bonus book' featuring lee nayoung and lee jongsuk

where taking work home has a greater meaning

——

"(y/n), honey. Answer your phone, you know better than to ignore your mother's calls, even after all this time. I wanted to let you know that Seungcheol is going to be in your neighborhood this weekend! He mentioned that he was visiting Joshua in preparation of the wedding and I think you two should catch up! If you would like, I can set a reservation at that one skyline restaurant for you both! Or I can set you up with someone—remember Kim Junmyeon? The doctor? He’s recently single! Call me, sweetie."

~

What was he doing here?

You're in the midst of laughing at some story Seungkwan and Seokmin were telling about the antics of their afternoon music class when you suddenly choke on your drink when your eyes catch on a pair of familiar brown ones across the room, the alcohol stinging your throat sourly.

You instantly dart around for your purse and your jacket, shoving them on quickly. Chungha pats your back in concern as you duck your head below the table, attempting to stay hidden from eye level.

"(y/n)? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm alright! I-I just dropped something! Oh where did it go?" You maneuver around Chungha while keeping your head down, "I'll be right back!"

Keeping your head low, you manage to get pretty deep into the crowded bar until you run directly into someone's stomach, their hands finding your shoulders and lifting you up, "Ow—what the? (y/n)? What are you doing? Never mind that, where is everyone else? I got sidetracked with grading papers���"

"Shhhhh!" You put your hand to his lips and peer around the room again, scanning the bar for one person you're avoiding. "Mingyu! Will you please—shush for one moment, Mingyu!"

He wrestles your hand off his lips with a disgruntled groan, "What for, (y/n)? Why are you acting all weird?"

You can see Seungcheol weaving his way through the crowded bar to get to you but your eyes focus on Mingyu in front of you. He narrows his eyes, "is someone following you? Oh wait—is it some wronged parent from our school? Some ex-boyfriend of yours? I got it! It's that one guy who picked you up after classes that one time! He wasn't that handsome, he was actually pretty ugly, sorr—"

The words tumble out of your mouth before you have a single moment to even think about it, "can you for one second—pretend to be my boyfriend?"

Mingyu wordlessly stares at you as you repeat your question, pulling on his arm as you turn to see Seungcheol coming closer and closer, "Will you please? Mingyu, please? Answer me!"

"Ok, I’ll think about it.... one second." You let out a breath of relief and close your eyes, preparing to face the lion ahead till you hear Mingyu scoff, "done."

Your eyes flash open at his literal taking of your word, "why you! Kim Mingyu, the one time I ask—"

He waves off the whole-name spiel and walks away from you, "I'll be back."

"Mingyu!" You call his name but he continues retreating into the crowd until you can't see his figure anymore. Curse words directed at your co-worker are mumbled under your breath, the filthiest expletives leaving your mouth in an angry rush before you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"(y/n)?"

You silently pray before slowly turning around and plastering on the brightest smile you can, "Seungcheol, I haven't seen you in awhile."

The lights shine over his hair in an angelic way, creating a faint halo along the crown of his head, almost making you forget the fact he's practically your mother's lackey. "Well, you haven't visited home in a long time."

"You know very well why I haven't visited in a long time." You remind him pointedly, "my mother is an insufferable woman and that already is an understatement."

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow at your words, "She's just looking out for you, you know that."

"By being completely unreasonable and forcing me to go on blind dates every other weekend?" You volley back towards him sarcastically, "sure, she's worried about me. She just wants to make sure her only daughter doesn't become a lonely, old spinster."

"(y/n), imagine when you have your own children. You'd want them to live comfortably, wouldn't you? To watch them live without worrying about money or about having a roof over their heads, right? Your mother just wants what's best for you—"

"But that's not what I want," you emphasize, "what's best for me is to actually live my life! To worry and struggle, and work till midnight, a-and sleep till two in the afternoon! And go out with who I want to go out with and marry whoever I want to marry. That's what I want out of life," Seungcheol makes a face at you but you continue on, "yes I want to be comfortable and stable but on my own terms, on my own efforts."

Seungcheol snorts, "and how is that going?"

"I'm doing just fine, thank you very much." If you weren't in a crowded bar, you would have ordered a fresh drink to pour on Seungcheol. "I'm actually here with my co-workers for some drinks," you nod in the direction of Chungha and the rest of your workmates in the corner, who are cheering merrily at the next round of shots.

If you didn't know any of them, you definitely wouldn't think they'd be a group of teachers—nonetheless teachers for elementary students. "What are you doing here?"

"I’m visiting Joshua, he’s finally back in town after coming back from the States. He’s getting married next month, remember? You got the invitation, didn’t you?"

You nod as you remember receiving a white and gold envelope in the mail a couple weeks ago, the elegant calligraphy remarking the wedding details in due time and the RSVP at the bottom was left unmarked as it mockingly reminded you of your relationship status.

You knew you had to go to Joshua's wedding, but alone?

"If you’re going, maybe we could... you know, go together?" Seungcheol proposes, "I know it’ll save Joshua—"

Where was a drink when you needed one?

"(y/n)! Baby, I got your drink." As if on command, Mingyu sets down two glasses for you and himself on the empty table next to you, beaming his charming smile usually saved for the children and parents at the school.

You hide your confusion with a faux smile back at him, staring into him intently to try and read his mind, "Oh, thank you… baby."

"Of course, anything for my girl." Mingyu says warmly, his expression changing when he notices Seungcheol standing in front of you, "and you are?" His voice is protective as he takes a step in between you both. You almost want to snort at Mingyu's defensive nature as your fake boyfriend but you hold it back.

The scowl on Seungcheol's lips morphs into a forced smile, "Seungcheol, a family friend of (y/n)'s." Mingyu steps forward and shakes Seungcheol's hand with a slick grin before easily wrapping his arm around your shoulders and the other casually holding his drink. "And who are you exactly?"

Seungcheol’s eyes look to yours expectantly and you feel small under his gaze, "Oh, this is Mingyu—"

"I'm (y/n)'s boyfriend." Mingyu pulls a confident smile on his lips as he watches Seungcheol's jaw drop, pure satisfaction running through his body.

You take a pull from the drink Mingyu—your now boyfriend—got you before setting it down, hesitantly curling up into his arms and relaxing as Mingyu leans into you,  "Mingyu… babe," the foreign word makes Mingyu beam even harder at you. "Seungcheol is actually my mother's bodyguard, but moreso like the older brother I've never had. He's the only man that can put up with my mother and her incessant bullsh—"

Seungcheol corrects, "We've been family friends for a long time, she means to say." The patronizing tone in his voice makes you hide a scoff at his correction, "(y/n), how long have you and Mingi been together?"

Your boyfriend cuts in, "it's Mingyu."

"We've been together a couple months," you answer, counting your fingers and looking at Mingyu.

"Six months this weekend to be exact." Mingyu spits out with a proud tone, wrapping his hand around yours and letting them rest on your shoulder in plain sight. "(y/n)'s been working so hard, I planned for us to go out of town for a short vacation. I hear the beaches have been beautiful as of late."

"Happy anniversary to you two," Seungcheol cheers tensely, his lips pulled into that one fake smile that you can recognize from a mile away. He fills the awkward gap with a glance at his phone, his eyes reading over a text message followed by missed call notifications, "if you excuse me, Jeonghan and Joshua are looking for me."

"Well," you unwrap your hand from Mingyu's. "See you Seungcheol. Tell them I say hello, my mother included." You add begrudgingly.

"I’ll see you, (y/n)." Seungcheol gives you a brief hug, whispering you're always welcome back home in your ear before locking eyes with your boyfriend,  "Mingyu… nice to meet you."

As you step back into Mingyu's side, he returns a satisfied smirk to Seungcheol and raises his drink to him, "Seungcheol, it was a pleasure meeting you."

The moment he leaves your presence and walks outside of the bar, you untangle yourself from Mingyu's arms, a million thoughts in your head cascading all at once until you blurt out, "What was all that?"

"You asked me to be your boyfriend and I did it," Mingyu quips easily, "happy?"

"I actually am, thank you." You study his actions as he takes his glass and moves to a barstool at the counter, waving to the bartender for a round of shots for your co-workers in the corner. He acts normal this time, acting as if you and him weren't just all cuddled up with his arms and hands around you and calling you 'his girl.'

The juxtaposition is mind-boggling to say the least, but you have to ask, "why help me?"

"(y/n), we're co-workers. We help each other everyday, and tonight was no different. Your friend, mom's bodyguard, whatever he is—he was being a complete ass to you. I heard him talk to you; you don't disrespect someone's work or guilt them about their life choices, that's rude."

"Aw, look at you! All riled up, defending my honor. You should tell that to my mother, she’s always going on about me and my life choices," you muse out loud, a warm feeling spreading from your chest—was that the alcohol? "Who knew Kim Mingyu could transform into a knight in shining armor on command?"

Mingyu turns to you, "that and I know I'll never hear the end of it if I didn't help you and play along to fool Seunghyun."

"Seungcheol, his name is Seungcheol."

"I won't have to see him ever again, so what difference does it make?" Mingyu chortles, raising his beer to you. "Cheers, to the shortest, best fake relationship you've ever had."

You scoff at the sentiment but pause to clink your drink against his, "should I be offended?" You roll your eyes as he doesn't answer, waiting patiently for you, "fine, cheers."

~

"(y/n), baby, hi! It's your mother again. Answer the phone, as soon as you can. Seungcheol told me that he ran into you and he met your lovely boyfriend! Since when did you start dating again? And who is this man, Mingi? Mingyu? Minseok? I was getting worried when you stopped going on the dates I set up for you… Call me back."

~

Days pass by after your encounter with Seungcheol at the bar and your one time fling of asking Mingyu to be your boyfriend, and everything is normal. Lessons fly by, the children are more chaotic with every passing day, and you're wondering why lunch breaks can't be any longer.

Another fine day passes by when Mingyu's walking home to his apartment, carrying a pack of beers, essays to grade, and a fresh order of chicken for himself when a suited man stands in the middle of the sidewalk, halting him just before the entrance of his apartment. His dark brown eyes and icy stare slowly become familiar to him, the closer he gets to the blockade. "Uh, excuse me? May I pass through? I live here."

"Kim Mingyu, remember me?" The mystery man's brown eyes glare a deep, deep hole into Mingyu's brain and suddenly a laugh escapes his lips.

"Seunghyun, right? I met you at that bar not too long ago. You're (y/n)'s family friend, the bodyguard."

"It’s Seungcheol," he emphasizes with disdain, rolling his eyes at him, "and I have someone very important to introduce you to."

"So you’re the man dating my daughter." An eerily, eloquent figure rises from the bench next to Mingyu, a stern expression gracing her red lips while her neck and ears decorated with sparkling diamonds. Her eyes and nose are reminiscent of your own, leading Mingyu to the fact that this was your mother with the incessant, patronizing remarks and the endless string of blind dates set for you.

Mingyu nods just as she starts making a circle around him, coldly studying him with her lips in a thin, permanent line, "Kim Mingyu. Twenty-six years old. Elementary literature teacher alongside my daughter at the same institution. Graduated from university with top marks and honors. Spends his money buying his weight in food and yet he looks… lanky and unrefined. Resides alone at the same address for four years now?"

"Five years, actually." He mutters, gripping on to his bags tighter.

She clicks her tongue at him, her eagle eyes peering into his soul so deceitfully, "even though you seem to be a man of... tall stature and intelligence, I won't have you seeing my daughter. She deserves someone of her own status, her own class."

"Since when did you dictate (y/n)’s life?" Mingyu refutes, "(y/n) is her own person, she’s the only person who can make the choice to see me again, not you."

Your mother frowns before her lips curl into a cunning smirk, "what if I offered you something for your troubles? You could venture far and wide with this…" She pulls out a thick envelope from her purse and offers it to Mingyu, "like move out of this building? Out of this district? I wouldn't normally set the bar so high, but then again, it seems like you need it."

Mingyu curiously snatches the envelope from her hand, peeking past the flap to see a huge stack of crisp, clean bills. His eyes go wide at the sight of so much money in his hands alone, "oh—this is, this has to be more than a thousand."

"It's five to be exact." Your mother says unimpressively, "five hundred-thousand." Mingyu's eyes nearly fall out of their sockets as he drops the envelope, the stark white envelope falling from his hands and standing out against the gravel of the sidewalk.

"It's all yours if you agree to stay away from my daughter and never see her again." She callously smiles, the corners of lips raising a single inch.

Mingyu stares at the envelope with indignation, pure disbelief running through his mind. "You can't pay me to stay away from your daughter," he incredulously spits out as your mother's faux smile drops. "I-I'm in love with her and nothing you do or say is going to make me stop seeing her."

He can't believe the words coming from his own lips, but the charade must continue on.

At least your mother believes his bluff, because if his own mother had the very same expression yours did right now, he'd be on his knees repenting for his mistakes with a red mark on his cheek.

"You can't be serious."

"You can't be serious! What kind of mother pays to get rid of her daughter's boyfriend?" Mingyu rebukes, storming off past your mother and Seungcheol and up the steps to his apartment. He's alone listening to the quiet mechanisms of the elevator before thinking about what exactly just happened. "What in the world—"

txt msg to < (y/n) >

hey girlfriend

we need to talk

I met your mother

txt msg from < (y/n) >

huh?

can this wait till tomorrow?

wait my mother?

like MY ACTUAL MOTHER??

txt msg to < (y/n) >

tmrw at lunch

yes

my future mother in law

~

"(l/n) (y/n), pick up this phone right now. A teacher? Not a professor or a doctor? (y/n) please, did you not remember what I told you? And you work with him too? It is unprofessional and inappropriate to have a lover in the workplace. Answer me when you get this. Also, I set up a date for you this Sunday afternoon with Mr. and Mrs. Seo's son, Johnny! He's visiting from the States and he runs his own business! It's a Fortune 500 company so it's definitely reputable! Don't stand this one up."

~

"I'd be lying to you right now if I said I didn't see this coming." You mumble as you take a bite of your lunch, Mingyu sitting across you with crossed arms.

"You what? You knew she was going to do this?" He incredulously shouts, lowering his voice when the other teachers shush him. Lunchtime was the one time where all the faculty could get away from the loud commotion of their students. "She's crazy."

You glare at Mingyu slightly and he murmurs an apology, "sorry—she's kinda crazy."

"I didn't think she'd actually do it, it's been months since she's shown up in my life."

"What kind of mother does that?"

"She's done it before, and it worked on a couple of my past relationships." You sigh half-heartedly. Mingyu's temper flares at the mere thought of men—no, boys—who chose money over you. "I wouldn't put it past her to throw money at any problem or obstacle in her way again."

"She researched me too, she knew how old I was, my job, how long I've lived in the same building. How?"

"What can I say? My mother does her research." You swivel your spoon in your bowl before looking up at Mingyu. "She's the type of person who will not stop once she sets her sights on what she wants, especially if it concerns me. She hovers and nags and annoys you till you're frustrated and you give into what she wants."

"Oh, she's going to nag me to death? What fun." He deadpans, but when you don't laugh at his joke, he apologizes again.

"Mingyu, it's not funny. It's my life that's at stake here."

"The only thing at stake right now is our peace of mind," he glances at the clock on the wall, "which we only have ten minutes of until we have to go back to our classrooms and start lessons again. Just… when you're here at school, nothing else matters, alright? It's just you and the kids and… math." You giggle at his attempts of comforting words. "When the bell rings and classes are over, you can deal with the outside world, ok?"

"Isn't this just me pushing my problems away and avoiding them?"

"Nope," he quips with a wink. "This is you concentrating on one problem at a time, as it just so happens. Think of it as one of your worksheets: you have a whole sheet of math problems, right? You can't half-solve one problem and then go back to it, you have to focus and finish that one equation before moving onto the next. Simple."

You stifle a laugh as he leans back, his face in a grin over his smart thinking. "Actually, you can half-solve a problem and then go back to it. It's called being stuck, Mr. Kim."

"Well let's think of ways to get you unstuck then, Ms. (l/n)."

"Me unstuck? Mr. Kim, we are in a public place, mind you!" You exclaim in false shock, just as your co-workers Joohyun and Sooyoung from the science department stroll past your table.

"What? No, I-I mean—" Mingyu gives up when he notices their appalled expression and he groans, "I can't win, can I?"

"Nope," you remark with a wink, matching his same tone as before. "Better hurry Mr. Kim, you have five minutes left before your peace of mind is at stake."

~

"(y/n)! Pick up the phone! Don't ignore your mother. I was visiting your neighborhood and stopped by your apartment, but you weren't home. I'll be in town till Sunday—you'll be home Saturday, right? Don't tell me you're seriously dating that, that teacher from your work! (y/n), please he's… a stick and there's something wrong with his head... If you're wanting to see someone, I set up a date with Dr. Park's son, Jinyoung for you! You remember him, right? He used to go by Junior when you two were younger? Tall, handsome, and he's a doctor too! Call me back."

~

"Hello, my darling girlfriend." Mingyu emphasizes with a saccharinely sweet tone, setting his lunch bag next to you in the staff room. He pulls out the chair right next to yours and stretches in his seat. "What's for lunch?"

"Morning, Kim Mingyu." When Mingyu gives you a look, you roll your eyes. "Morning, my handsome boyfriend." He beams at you at the title while you shake your head. "All I'm eating today is this apple." You solemnly hold up a bright green apple in your hands before rubbing your head. "I barely woke up on time today, so I grabbed an apple on the way out."

"Take some of mine," he pulls out his prepped side dishes and nudges them over to you, offering you his fork. "Go ahead, (y/n). I have more than enough food." You frown as he pushes the dish towards you again. "Save some for me, yeah? Don't act so eager now."

You smile and give in, taking a bite of one of the dishes, "my knight in shining armor strikes again. How could I ever repay you?"

"Feed me?" He opens his mouth and you shovel a big bite of his food on the fork, aiming the fork towards his mouth but immediately redirecting it towards you and into your mouth.

"In your dreams," you say with the mouthful. Mingyu hides his smile and rolls his eyes at your childish nature before jumping into his half of his lunch. You two eat in peaceful silence as more teachers enter the staff room, complaining and conversing about the children and their antics.

"So my mother called me last night and left me a voicemail, she even remembered you!" You announce with a smirk, "not by name, but as 'that, that teacher from your work.'" You copy your mother's tone of voice and straighten your posture to embody her completely.

"I upgraded from being your inappropriate, unprofessional lover to 'that teacher,' not that bad in a week's work."

"She's still not keen on the idea of me dating you."

"I don't get it. Any mother would be happy—ecstatic even, for me to date their daughter!" He grumbles, "I’m tall, handsome, considerate, I can cook, I clean after myself, I work with children on a day to day basis—what’s so wrong about me dating you? I'm the whole package… am I not?"

"Are you a doctor, lawyer, or CEO of a multi-million dollar company? Or do you come from old money?" You ask although instantly knowing the answer, "you’re not from… money, Mingyu. That’s why my mother doesn't approve of you—or of any guy I choose to date."

You pause to think of the other reasons your mother mentioned in the voicemail, "and she said you're too like a stick, and something's off about your head."

"What?" Mingyu's cutlery rattles against the table, "my head is perfectly shaped, and I'm not a stick, thank you very much! I have muscles, I'm fit and in shape!"

You hide your snickers using a napkin to cover your mouth, glancing around the room to see Joohyun and Sooyoung from the science department raise their eyebrows at Mingyu.

He sits back down slowly and lowers his head in his lunch, mumbling under his breath, "my head is perfectly fine."

You try to suppress the smile on your face as Mingyu angrily pouts at you, patting his arm gently, "mhmm, your head is perfectly fine, yes."

~

"(y/n), it's Seungcheol. I'm warning you that your mom and I are at your apartment again. I know she said she was leaving last night but it's just to make sure you're home. She refuses to leave the town until she sees you in person. Call me back when you get this... Also, are you going to Joshua's wedding? Maybe we could carpool? Or meet up? Just as old friends... call me."

~

It's late and Mingyu's tiredly grading homework assignments when there's a knock on his apartment door, his face showing pure confusion when he sees you on the other side.

You're taken aback by how natural Mingyu looks, how plainly he looks in house clothes and yet he's still just as… handsome? "Uh hi, can I come in?"

"I don't think I have anywhere else to go tonight, except here." You pout, "I know Seungcheol and my mother are still at my apartment right now and I don't want to deal with all that. Not tonight."

Mingyu nods and opens the door wider for you to enter. "This is a cute set up."

"It's not cute, (y/n). It's simple." He emphasizes, his arms sweeping over the studio apartment's monochrome theme.

"It's both cute and simple." You tease with a grin, removing your shoes and coat respectfully by the door. "Were you grading essays?"

"Yeah, but not anymore." He tucks the papers into his work folder and takes off his glasses. "Take my bed, I'll be on the couch."

Your eyes widen at the request, glancing at the length of the couch and then back at Mingyu. "No, I couldn't—"

There's a tired rasp in his voice, "(y/n), my apartment, my rules. Just take the bed."

You shift in direction of his neatly, folded bed and set your bag next to his nightstand, "also I know beggars can't be choosers, but do you have an extra shi—" An extra t-shirt and sweatpants land on the bottom of the bed as Mingyu heads to the bathroom with a wink.

"If you wanted to get into my pants, (y/n), you could have said so." He shuts the door as soon as he says it, leaving you no time to come up with a reply back. Not that you could come up with a comeback with your face all tinged pink.

He exits the bathroom and heads to the couch, settling himself under a spare blanket. "Good night, (y/n)." Mingyu turns on the couch and faces the cushions, his knees awkwardly bent in order to fit on the furniture and under his blanket.

"Good night, Mingyu."

There's silence in the apartment, save for the ticking of the clock and your tossing and turning in Mingyu's bed, his pillows and mattress crinkling with your every motion. Mingyu holds in the urge to turn to stop the couch springs from sounding so he lets out a fake snore in place of it.

"Wow, for a moment that sounded really realistic." You comment out loud and Mingyu lets out a huff before stretching out his legs, his ankles dangling off the couch's arm. "Are you sure you don't want your bed?"

He lets out another fake snore that's louder than the first.

"You know, you’re eerily good at that?" Mingyu grunts in confusion and you elaborate, "acting, playing pretend, faking stuff. You really didn't have to pretend to be my boyfriend that night."

"Yeah, that wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to pretend to be someone’s boyfriend."

"Oh my goodness," you tsk disapprovingly as you sit up in his bed. "Kim Mingyu—you're a professional heartbreaker, aren't you? I should have known."

He turns on the couch to face in your direction, "and yet, you're still here, coming back for more." You can imagine Mingyu's wink aimed directly at you even in the dark.

"Oh shut up." You toss one of his pillows at him from across the space, "I knew I should have asked Wonwoo or Seokmin to be my boyfriend, not you. Maybe they'd be a better fake boyfriend."

"Hey! I'm a way better fake boyfriend—I'm letting you take my bed and my clothes! You'd be sneezing if you were in Wonwoo's apartment because of his cats and Seokmin would be too loud for you."

"How did you remember I was allergic to cats?" You remember bringing it up once early on in the school year, before you even were close as colleagues and friends with Mingyu. It was for an icebreaker at a summer staff gathering to integrate the new faculty (one of which was yourself) with the current roster. 

That was over years ago and yet he remembered?

Mingyu hesitates, "I have a good memory."

You stare up at the ceiling and tap your fingers on the bed. "So Mingyu… what are you doing at the end of the month? More specifically on the last Saturday of the month?"

"It's not like I have that much planned ahead, so nothing right now. Why?"

"Uh, would you mind being my plus one to my friend's wedding? It's okay if not, I—"

"Yeah, I'd love to. I-I mean, no I don't mind." He stammers, shocked at his own clumsy response to you. He's a literature teacher for crying out loud—he was supposed to be good with words at the very least.

"Is Seungcheol going to be there? Isn't that the wedding you two were talking about the first time around?"

Damn his good memory, you frown. "I think so. He asked me if I wanted to carpool with him and be his date—I mean, plus one, but I'd rather not."

Why?

Mingyu admits it's too vague of a question to ask you, so he settles for something more specific. "You don't feel anything for Seungcheol, do you?" Mingyu carefully says, "like, you don't have feelings for him, right?"

"What? No no no," you sit up, vehemently shaking your head as if to explain yourself to him even though it's dark. "Seungcheol? No, I don't have any feelings for him."

"Like at all?"

You echo, "like at all. I don't really see him that way. He’s been my friend for so long, and I-I just don’t think of him in that light."

"He's not some ex-boyfriend, is he? Your mom hasn't tried setting you up with him?"

You fidget with the covers, tugging them close to your chin and inhaling the smell of the blanket. "No, you and Seungcheol are similar in that way, but with him, she wouldn't oppose it per say, but she'd rather me be with someone else."

"Who would you want to be with? Per say?"

There's a slight pause before you answer his question with another question, "Mingyu, are you asking me for my type?"

"Maybe," he hums.

"You just want me to say that you're my type, don't you?" You squint through the darkness to try and read him, but it's no use.

"If that's how you feel, then I wouldn't be upset." He responds cheekily, "are you saying I'm your type then?"

"Am I your type?"

"You can't keep answering my questions with more questions, (y/n)."

You flop back into the bed, dragging the blankets over your head. "Fine… what if I said yes?"

"That's still a question." Mingyu chimes.

"You didn't answer mine either!" You fight back, your voice muffled under the weight of the blankets. You lay there for what feels like ages, waiting for Mingyu's response but hearing nothing at all.

Maybe he actually fell asleep this time, you think, curling into a small ball and turning on your side.

"Yes." His voice is barely above a whisper, making you throw the blankets off yourself to ensure you heard him right. Mingyu clears his throat nervously, "what's yours?"

"So I'm Kim Mingyu's type, huh?" You muse out loud, just as he scoffs.

"You're doing it again."

"Good night Mingyu," you sing with a smile just as he complains again.

~

"(y/n). It's Seungcheol again… this time your mother and I left the city so you're fine to go back. Where have you been if you haven't been at your apartment for two weeks? Nearly three? Don't tell me you're living with what's his name, your mother's gonna have a heart attack if you are. She's already in denial after the PI's gave her the photos of you and him walking around and having dinner and going to his apartment building. See you at the wedding, I bet you're gonna look beautiful."

~

"(y/n)?"

You’re asleep on top of a mountain of papers on your desk, your arms neatly folded on top of the worksheets and tests you’re supposed to be grading. Your hair falls over your face and Mingyu delicately shifts the strands to see your closed eyes and rosy lips letting out a snore every minute or so.

He taps on your shoulder repeatedly before gently nudging you, successfully waking you, "(y/n)? Need help?"

"No, it’s fine." Your mind is still groggy and bogged down and you feel your dry eyes grasping for another minute of sleep. "I just need to go through these papers and grade them."

He chuckles at the sight of you closing your eyes for a single minute of sleep before haphazardly rising up and shaking your head. You blindly grab for your red pen and unclip the stack of papers, separating them by class period. The sound of a chair screeching against the linoleum startles you as you look up and see Mingyu drag a chair next to your desk.

"So, what do I need to look for?" Mingyu’s glasses are perched on his nose and his hand is clutching a red pen and you can’t help but fawn over the sight before you.

The dark night sky bleeds into the sunset as you and Mingyu grade your students’ worksheets, going through one period and onto another as the literature teacher asks you question after question to stifle the quiet.

"Why did you want to become a teacher?"

You rest the end of your pen between your teeth, biting it slightly, "why did you?" You volley back to him.

He quips childishly, "no answering questions with questions, remember?"

You smile before writing a letter grade at the top of the page. "Well, you may think this is very petty and cynical of me, but originally chose to become a teacher to spite my mother." Your pen rattles on the paper as you comment to study the times tables harder. "I told you how much money and financial security meant to her, and so she set me on the path to become a lawyer, to get my undergrad and then rush to law school to make money."

You set the pen and paper down on the table before standing up, stretching your limbs and circling around your desk as Mingyu stops grading to listen.

"But I didn’t want that, so I changed my major and completed a degree in education. All without her knowing until the very day I graduated. I chose this profession because helping children—as much as it wants to tear my hair out sometimes—it makes me happy, I'm happy to be teaching the next generation and making a decent pay out of it."

He sits against the edge of your desk next to you, rattling his red pen in between his fingers, "isn't it tiring? To keep on this petty fight with your mother? I mean, doesn't she just want what's best for you?"

You answer without hesitation, "yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes. It is tiring to fight my mother and yes, she does want the best for me." You murmur lightly, "but if I don't fight her, she will turn me into someone I'm not—she'll turn me into everything she would have wanted, all her hopes and dreams in a picture perfect daughter. A trophy wife on the arm of some rich man—but that's not my dream. I don't want to become some doll or a replica of her, I want to be my own person, and make my own way in life and fall in love and marry whoever I want—even if he's dirt poor and a fool."

"Well, as the lowly fool with a couple dollars to his name posing as your boyfriend, I think you're doing a great job." Mingyu nudges your arm tenderly.

"Hey, you're not some lowly fool… you're just a fool." Mingyu pretends to cry and faint at the revelation, falling on your shoulder, "I'm joking! Kim Mingyu, don't pull this with me! I was joking!"

Mingyu continues to fake cry on your shoulder as you playfully nudge him off, not feeling his head bob up and down until you feel him hit your shoulder. Mingyu immediately yelps in pain and you begin fretting over him, "Oh! Mingyu! I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I—"

"I'm f-fine. I don't think I'm bleeding, or am I?" You stand in front of Mingyu and have him carefully move his hands from his face but the moment he removes his hands, he grins without a speck of blood on him, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you from the ground. "Ha!"

"Kim Mingyu! You can't do that, put me down!" You sulk with a huff, a laugh escaping your lips as he twirls you around on his shoulder. After enough attempts of you hitting his back and cursing his name, he carefully sets you back down, his hands still on your hips and eyes locked on yours.

Your heart's beating so loud in your ears as you're stuck in place, entranced by the fragility of the moment, of how close you two are together. Your first thought is that he smells good, that he smells like clean soap, like laundry fresh and hot out of the dryer. His warmth radiates off his skin and wraps you up in your arms, pushing out the cold chill in the room and out the door.

It's warm—you're warm and content but you can't help but think that you shouldn't be doing this. Everything between you and Mingyu is supposed to be fake—from the dates around the city to the dinners to hiding out and staying over at his apartment for days on end to your daily lunches to your feelings.

You weren't supposed to fall for him, not like this—not when the lines are so blurred and muddled to the point you can't tell fiction from reality.

You should have known this was a terrible idea.

"Mingyu, I—" you don't finish your sentence as Mingyu's lips covers yours, the soft skin pressing against your own with passion and fervor as his hands wrap themselves around your waist. You're in pure shock—frozen in place as he kisses you and you can't help but have a million thoughts racing in your head, all fighting and arguing on what to do.

He realizes you're frozen in place and detangles himself as if you're an all-consuming fire. The hurt is evident on his face, the classroom's white lights reflecting the glassy stare in his eyes. "(y/n)... I thought—never mind." Mingyu quickly takes his jacket and bag and races out of the room, his footsteps fading away towards the exits. You're left all alone in the classroom as you crumple to the floor, leaning against your desk still just as shell-shocked as before and your heart now in shambles.

~

"(y/n), it's Seungcheol… I know that I'm the last person you want to see or talk to… but I'm grateful we caught up at Joshua's wedding together. Being with you there felt… nice, I was happy to be there with someone I knew for a long time, someone I cared deeply for. I shouldn't have tried what I did… I apologize for that and I promise to never try that again for as long as we remain friends… I hope you can forgive my actions and accept my apology… and (y/n), I wish you the best, with him, without him, in whatever you do."

~

"Thank goodness today is Friday!" Seungkwan shouts with a blissful sigh, wrapping his hands behind his head with a wide grin. "The kids were so active during music lessons!"

"Easy for you to say. Half of the children fell asleep during literature lessons in the morning. Try talking to snoring kids for an hour." Mingyu mumbles, weakly mixing his soup with his spoon. He's thisclose to becoming one of his own students in his literature class as he listens to Seungkwan and Seokmin drone on about their children in the music classes.

He couldn't catch a single second of sleep knowing he was bound to see you today. Mingyu's done all he could to avoid you, from waking up early to staying out late to not be home when you come around, to leaving all of your messages unopened, to not returning your calls, he's done so much.

He couldn't avoid you here though.

"At least they're quiet and not banging on the drums or beating a tamborine till it's broken or screaming the words out loud," Seokmin notes. "You're lucky, Mingyu. You get the kids to read and write out whatever their imagination desires."

The door suddenly opens and there's a noise Mingyu instantly recognizes: your laugh.

"You won't believe the mess that Lee Youngjoon caused today in class today." You follow Chungha into the staff room and set down your lunch next to hers, just as she pulls a chair at the same table with Mingyu and the guys. "He nearly incited a riot during art class and started a paint war against the girls in the classroom! Why are children so rowdy these days? Did I even mention he started it because of his crush on Kim Miso? Seriously!"

Seokmin helps pick out dried paint in Chungha's hair with a shrug, "well, it's an age old matter that boys pick on girls because they like them and they don't know how to express that."

"Mhmm," you agree, sneaking a glance at Mingyu as you open your lunch box, "maybe it's because boys don't know how to… communicate their feelings properly, so they just act rashly instead."

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, catching your stare, "oh I don't think it's that boys don't know how to communicate their feelings. They do, they do it all the time; I mean, actions speak louder than words."

"All the time now, huh?" You quip with curiosity. "Then what's the point of words if actions are supposedly enough? Words still matter. Do they not, mister literature teacher?"

He chuckles at your callout, "no you're right, words do matter. But the problem is that some words make everything too real and some people are scared of that reality… or might not even want it and act like they do. You can pretend all you want and do what you want, but at the end of the day, don't you want something real? Wouldn't you want to risk it for a chance at something like that?"

You realize the weight of his words and hold back the urge to yell everything on your mind at him in front of the entire staffing of your school behind you, "yeah, that'd be nice."

"Wise words, Kim Mingyu, but how does this relate back to the children?" Chungha cries, almost in hysterics thinking of her classroom. Your eyes lock on him before you shift your gaze to the clock at the front of the room, watching the time slip by with every second. "I'm going back to my classroom, if anyone wants to help me clean, let me know."

"I'm going back to my classroom too." Mingyu packs his lunch away and rises from the table, avoiding your eyes and giving a tight smile to his friends.

You watch him leave the room before cleaning up your barely touched lunch, glancing at the time before rushing down the hall to the literature teacher's classroom, knocking on the door panel lightly.

"Mingyu, I want to talk to you."

"Well, I'm here," he grunts as he lifts stacks of textbooks from one side of the room to the other. You internally punch yourself as you blatantly stare at his arms, his stupid muscles contracting under the weight of the sets. "I'm listening."

"Are you really?" You pose back, watching him stride back and forth with the books as you lean in the doorway. He gives you a look and you listen to yourself, "okay, yes that was a terrible question. Umm, so I know I have a lot to explain—"

He stops, "I'm not asking you for an explanation. You don't owe me anything, (y/n). "

"I don't but I want to explain myself—I have a right to explain myself, don't I?"

He sets down the most recent stack of books on his desk and circles around to his chair, "you have ten minutes, before—"

"Your peace of mind is at stake, yeah yeah." You finish for him with a roll of your eyes, making him break his tough demeanor. You pause as he waits for you to begin, but you honestly didn't think you'd get this far. "I… you, uh—how do I even begin this?" You sigh, turning to the side and staring at the classroom's blank chalkboard.

"Okay, here!" You take hold of one of the chalk pieces and start writing down your name, Mingyu, Seungcheol, and your mother's names on the board, all in different corners. "Don't laugh." Mingyu hides his smile behind his hand as you write by the names.

"(y/n): teacher, daughter, Kim Mingyu's type, allergic to cats. Mom: mother, too much, desperately doesn't want (y/n) to be poor and alone. Seungcheol: bodyguard, older brother, too much #2, good intentions? And lastly, Mingyu: professional heartbreaker and expert level actor, teacher, (y/n)'s boyfriend?"

Mingyu's fingers tap on the desk impatiently, "(y/n), can you please get to the point—"

"Shhhh." You sternly quiet him with a pointed look, tapping on the chalkboard loudly. You quickly run through the story of your life, starting with your friendship with Seungcheol, your mother's endless string of blind dates, the rift of not contacting your mother for months, the night you recruited Mingyu to be your boyfriend, the dates, the lunches, the dinners, everything in between right to the moment Mingyu kissed you in your classroom.

"...and then you kissed me, and I didn't know what to do or say exactly because I was confused—none of this was to actually happen! I wasn't expecting any of it and because I didn't do or say anything, you left and started avoiding me." You circle Mingyu's name over and over again, the white chalk wearing thin. "You and I were supposed to go to Joshua's wedding that weekend, but with you avoiding me, I ended up going by myself and running into—"

"Seungcheol." Mingyu answers for you, a sour frown on his face at the sound of his name. "He kept asking you to be his date."

"His plus one."

"There's a difference." He gripes with contempt, his lower lip jutted out in annoyance.

"There is no difference," you huff, rolling your eyes at his impatient behavior and clutching an eraser in your hand. "Because he kissed me too and I didn't do anything about it."

"He what?" Mingyu rises from his seat furiously. "He kissed you? And you didn't do anything about it either? Why?"

"Why? Are you jealous?"

"Yes I am jealous." He confesses proudly, once again catching you off-guard.

"When Seungcheol kissed me, I realized a couple things." Mingyu's attention stays completely on you as you wipe Seungcheol and your mother's name from the chalkboard, "one, that weddings are not that fun when you're single and wishing you were there with your boyfriend... or is it your fake boyfriend? Or maybe it’s the guy who started off as your co-worker and then fake boyfriend and then you slowly realized that you wanted him to be your actual, real life boyfriend, regardless of what your mother thinks of him and his oddly shaped head."

Mingyu circles around you as you set down the eraser on the chalkboard's ledge, "and two, I realized that I should have done this the first time someone kissed me."

You grab Mingyu by the collar of his shirt and pull him to you, closing your eyes and pushing your lips to his messily. He tenses up from the sudden action but slowly melts into you, moving his lips against yours slowly and wrapping his arms around you.

The lunch bell rings over the intercom and you can hear the school doors open, the sound of shoes running against the linoleum squeaking and echoing in the hallway. You pull yourself away from Mingyu and bite your lip when you realize lunch is over.

"There goes our peace of mind."

"I think I found mine right here." He smiles into you, leaning in for another kiss whilst still wrapped in his arms.

.