#YOUR GIRL IS BACK WITH ANOTHER DOODLE EDIT!

[serendipitous-seven]

i can't wait to tell you, "i told ya'." | jungkook x f!reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is a successful realtor with a big house, a nice car, colorful dating life, and a spunky 7-year-old daughter to boot…he’s also your best friend who you used to be in love with. Of course, he was never made aware because you swear it’s all in the past…until it isn’t. But going on a cruise with Jungkook and his daughter whom you adore should be harmless. Absolutely nothing can go wrong…Right?

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader genre: fluff, angst, crack, idiots [i say that with luv for my characters] word count: 17.2k  tags/warnings: a child [Mai] is present throughout the entire story, implication of absent birth mother, serial dater JK, so much pining, pg language, conversation about sleeping around/risking pregnancy, legal-aged drinking & getting drunk, hurtful words/heated argument, isolation, blurb about reader struggling to eat, Mai experiences anxiety [I promise she is okay], plethora of cheesy occurrences, much fluff & angst all because sowoozoo-muster-JK wrecked me

series mlist

this is a repost from my old blog, moon-write.

Thank you to the realest one, @hyungieyoongi, for not only wanting to beta-read this insanity for me when I initially enlisted her for help, but also for hyping me up while doing it. Her editing gave this story clarity ;; 

disclaimer: the portrayal of Jungkook in this story is purely fictional & does not reflect who he is in real life nor do I claim to believe it does. lastly, this story is not a part of my dad!bts series, a serendipitous life - singledad!jungkook is in its own universe.

a/n: GUYS. this story was purely created because I was under the influence of sowoozoo/muster JK back in 2021. I am so beyond excited to bring this back and share this cracked out fic again, I truly hope you all enjoy it and just have fun reading it.

“Mai, don’t be so dramatic,” you take the little girl’s hands into yours, dusting off the chalk from her palms, “look-see, it comes off!”

She beams up at you with a know-it-all smile before taking yellow chalk from the bucket and continuing her doodle on the concrete. You watch her as she makes a big circle, stopping to make sure it’s just right before looking at you once more.

“Can you make the lines?” She inquires with big eyes, you run your hand through her long hair and happily oblige; Mai stands and watches you, pressing her hand onto your shoulder; “daddy will like it!”

You chuckle, nodding, “your dad will love it.”

She kneels, taking blue chalk this time to draw clouds, a mixture of pastel colors in the shape of her handprint now adorning the sleeve of your shirt.

Adding butterflies to the chalk creation per Mai’s request, you hear the back gate open, and following is the sound of Mai’s jovial squeals. Quick to abandon the chalk, she runs into the doting arms of her father, Jungkook. Uncaring to her chalky hands, Jungkook sweeps Mai into a hug with no intention of letting go.

“Kiss,” he mutters to her as you walk over, dusting your hands off on your jeans. Mai presses her smaller palms onto his cheeks, squishing them in the process of giving him a quick peck.

“Oops,” she giggles, noticing the chalk she’s left on his cheeks.

“We made you a drawing,” Mai soon forgets, wiggling to move Jungkook forward. He smiles at you, following his daughter’s direction to the drawing. Mai, her eyes an exact mirror of her father’s, watches him as he takes it all in. 

Jungkook marvels at his little girl’s work; “thank you, babe,” he says, kissing Mai’s cheek who nods with pride, bunny teeth sticking out. She looks over at you, singing your praises for bringing the bucket of chalk as a surprise.

“I told you I’d bring a surprise if you got A’s and B’s, right?” You smile, winking at Mai.

Jungkook thanks you before telling Mai to run inside and wash up for dinner. You follow him to the patio table and take a seat, noting the exhaustion of another long day falling over him. He runs his hand over his face, closing his eyes for a moment before remembering his best friend is still there.

You offer him a pitiful smile, drawing him to roll his eyes and laugh, “what?”

You shake your head, “nothing.”

He straightens his gaze but even then, a hint of his sweet smile remains noticeable, “it’s never nothing.”

“But it really is this time. Besides,” you laugh, “am I never not worried about you and Mai?”

He just nods.

“You’re doing a great job Jungkook,” you pat his tattooed arm, “you are the light of her life.”

Jungkook looks back at the chalk drawing Mai doodled on the concrete, giggling to himself. Caught in his stupor and the innocence of his daughter, he comes to, looking at you; “these last seven years would have gone a lot differently if we didn’t have you though.”

-Seven years ago-

“It’s okay,” you try to soothe a newborn Mai but her shrill cries drown out your voice. You burn a trail around the living room as you pace, stealing glances at Jungkook who’s sat at the edge of his sofa. With clumps of his hair gathered between fisted palms, he’s never looked so defeated.

“Let’s try feeding her again,” you stand in front of him, hand reaching for the bottle next to him. Too caught in the frantic cry of his baby, he doesn’t hear you.

“Jungkook,” your tone is stern and you nudge his foot with yours, “come on, you can’t give up now, get it together.” A moment of hurt sweeps over his eyes when he looks up at you, but keeping your feet on firm ground, you push away the guilt that rushes you. 

You clear your throat, “her bottle Jungkook, please.”

He does as you say, his eyes wide as he looks at his daughter for the first time since you arrived. You press the rubber tip to Mai’s lips, allowing a drop of the warm formula to touch her lips, “I promise you’ll love it, Mai.” You try to joke though there is a hint of begging in your tone. 

Her cry breaks for a moment as the milk drips onto her tongue; “there you go,” laughter coats the nervous tremble in your voice this time.

You allow a couple more drops to fall onto her tongue until Mai’s cries ease into small whimpers. Her breathing staggers as she takes to the bottle, “see?” You can’t help but giggle. Looking at Jungkook, his eyes brimming with tears of frustration, he watches in shock while Mai drinks from the bottle as small puffs of air escape her nose.

“Use the rag on my shoulder to wipe her face, will you?” You ask him and he does just so, dabbing at Mai’s red cheeks, ridding her of her tears.

“I tried everything the last hour to get her to stop,” he whispers. You can see the disappointment in his eyes though he continues to marvel at the innocence wrapped in your arms. You watch as your best friend takes Mai’s foot in his hand, thoughtfully squeezing her toes before he moves his hand back to her head, rubbing her barely-there hair as far back as he can.

“Here,” you gesture for Jungkook to take his daughter and he steps back in fright. You chuckle, “you have to get used to holding her Kook, I won’t be here all the time.”

“Why?” He looks at you with all sincerity.

You shake your head, “she’ll be safe with you.”

He places the rag over his shoulder this time and holds his arms out. Mai fusses during the exchange and Jungkook shushes her in a gentle prive as he holds her against his chest; “just hold the bottle upright - yeah,” you say as you help to adjust her in his arms. 

He cradles his large hand behind her head while her tiny body rests along his arm. He stands straight as a pin, fear taking up most of his expression as he looks down on his feeding daughter.

“Is this the first time you’re holding her?” You ask.

He gives you a look that can only mean yes, “my mom has been staying with us, she left right before you came,” he shakes his head, embarrassed to admit, “I was too scared.”

A soft laugh escapes you, “well, how’s it feel now?”

“Still scary,” he says seriously, “but I never want to put her down again.”

You stand back, watching him take all of her in. A month ago your best friend had his life made - living a bachelor lifestyle his friends envied, had a stellar career as the most sought realtor, owner of a newly built home. He was a free man who could do whatever, whenever.

That was until one drunken decision in the past came back nine months later in the form of a newborn baby.

Swaying back and forth with a slight strain in his movement, Jungkook watches Mai’s drooping lids; “can I do this?” He asks in a dream-like state leaving you to wonder if he really wanted an answer. That is until he moves his eyes to look at you. 

You shrug with a pitied smile, “you love her, right?”

He frowns for a second, nodding without hesitation.

“Then you can do it, Jungkook.”

“I’d offer for you to stay for dinner but you probably have another date with what’s-his-name,” Jungkook closes the sliding glass door behind you two, sweeping Mai into his arms. The three of you make your way into the kitchen where he sets his daughter on the counter, inspecting her hands to make sure she’s cleaned them properly.

He playfully sniffs them before kissing her palms.

“For the thousandth time, his name is Mark, and no actually,” you laugh watching the two tease each other back and forth, Jungkook’s attention split between the two of you, “I don’t think that’s happening anymore.”

He stands upright, covering Mai’s ears which only sends her into a fit to hear the adult talk, too grown for her age. She fights to move her dad’s hands but to no avail.

“Bad kisser? I knew it,” he shakes his head while moving Mai’s from side to side. Belly laughs erupt from her small body as she begs for her dad to stop.

“Shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. He chuckles, removing his hands from Mai and kissing her forehead.

You sit at the end of the long dining table next to Mai, Jungkook at the head of the table as usual. He finishes reading Mai’s fortune before they look at you.

“Your turn!” Mai shouts, holding a single noodle between her trainer chopsticks.

The cookie crumbles between your fingers as you unroll the small strip of paper, clearing your throat; “an old love will come back to you.”

Jungkook dramatically ooh’s and Mai follows, her small lips shaped into a perfect circle. Victim to Mai’s purity you squeeze her nose, “who could that be?” You tease her.

“Not me,” she giggles, “maybe daddy, he’s old!”

You fall back into your chair, eyes brimming with tears as you hold onto your belly full of Chinese food, laughing at the expense of your best friend.

“Funny,” he tries not to laugh, stuffing the remains of his fortune cookie into his mouth.

Chirping crickets and a black sky surround Jungkook’s home. You listen to the sound echo up into the vaulted ceilings, looking out of the opened windows. Taken by the quiet that surrounds his place, you shut your eyes and bask in it until the sound of Jungkook’s feet shuffles down the hallway.

“I don’t know whose good side I am on,” he sighs with relief, grabbing his glass of wine on the way to the sofa, “but she falls asleep like that.” He snaps his fingers.

You smile, peeling your attention away from the window.

Now dressed in baggy clothes that swallow up his svelte build, Jungkook takes a generous sip from his glass before patting the space next to him, “so, what’s wrong with this guy?”

You stop on your way to the sofa, eyebrows raised with sarcasm, “let’s cut the attitude, yeah?”

He can’t help but laugh, moving his leg when you finally sit down, “joking,” he reassures you, “but I mean, this is the third guy you’ve rejected and I didn’t even get to meet him.”

You shrug, “like you really wanted to?” Quirking an eyebrow at him, Jungkook can’t seem to look at you, laughing into his wine glass; “who’s worse here? You’ve always had at least one thing to complain about every guy I’ve brought around.”

“The bean and I have a preliminary process when it comes to guys you date,” he shrugs, licking a stray drop of wine before it can drip onto his sweatpants.

“Yes because a seven year old has a lot to say about adults and dating,” you chuckle, pushing Jungkook’s shoulder, “anyway, you aren’t missing out on anything Kook - and besides, I don’t want to introduce people into your guys’ life until I’m sure about them this time.”

Jungkook’s playfulness dies off, the wine in his glass not as interesting as the sullen look forming on your face. He watches you, the way you bend forward, one side of your hair tucked behind your ear while you anxiously pick at your cuticles.

He nudges your knee with his so you can look at him, a reassuring smile awaiting you, “that last guy fooled us all, okay?”

You sigh as a way to say, ‘it’s forgotten…no big deal…whatever…’ but Jungkook knows it’s a stain you’ve struggled to rid of for a while; “he’s been out of my life for a long time and that’s all that matters,” you stiffen your upper lip.

“Mm, cheers to that,” he clicks his glass against your water bottle, “but seriously, can I ask you something?”

You brace yourself, nodding.

“Except for that trash bag, you always seem to find a flaw in every guy you date,” Jungkook stalls for a second, reading your temperament before continuing, “why?”

Your eyes crinkle, suddenly underneath a spotlight, “do I?”

Jungkook resorts to his scrunch-nosed laugh, “are you kidding?”

“Well, okay Mr. Dating-expert,” you cross one leg over the other taking on a new defense, “you don’t find enough flaws in the women lined up outside of your house every day - why?”

He nearly spat out his wine, setting the glass down with hands surrendered to the air, “false accusation, you know I don’t bring women back here because of Mai-”

“Okay okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” you sit back.

He laughs, “but fair enough, I guess we both don’t have the best track record when it comes to dating.”

You stand up, pulling your bag over your shoulder, “I hate to agree since it concerns me too.”

Jungkook walks you to the front door, “I’m curious to find out who this ‘old love’ is,” you turn just as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

You force a smile with squinted eyes, “do you know me at all, Jeon? I don’t believe in fortunes, remember?”

He gives you a quick hug, watching you walk the path to your car; “I can’t wait to prove you wrong,” he says from the door.

You wave him off, “yeah-yeah save the love spiel for another time, goodnight!”

On your drive home, absent in mind, you rake your fingers through your hair. The bright glow of the red traffic light casts over you when you come to a full stop. ‘An old love will come back to you.’ You snort at the thought; they are simply typed words on a piece of paper. It means nothing.

“You don’t believe in stupid fortunes,’” you sing into the void of your car.

But it still makes your stomach queasy. Heart palpitating in your chest while your palm becomes sweaty as you ring it around the steering wheel.

“Let’s not go back there…”

“Hello? What do you mean no big deal?” Nic’s voice is a clear call into the late night, earning herself a stern look from you. “Whisper please,” you hiss through your teeth, “Mai never sleeps well when Jungkook is away, it was hell getting her down tonight.”

Nic looks at you with wily eyes, spinning every which way you turn before she gets dizzy; “oh my god, stop for sec!”

In a huff to clean up Mai’s after-dinner doodle session - crayons strewn across the table and several drawings she made as gifts for her dad’s return from a work trip, you look at your friend with exasperation painted on your face, “it’s literally what I mean Nic.”

She blinks in rapid-fire, sitting down on the ottoman while you work around the dining room. “So I’m crazy, okay yeah. Because telling me that you’re in love with your best friend of a million years is totally normal.”

You shudder at how easily those words come out of Nic’s mouth while Jungkook’s daughter sleeps in your bed. Too young to understand anyway, you can’t help but want to protect Mai from this very sensitive information about her dad.

Nic rolls her eyes, “oh relax, she’s asleep now. I’m spiraling over here, okay?”

“Just, come on,” you hit the side of your leg with the cleaning rag, desperate to get your point across, “discretion, please? This is not information I want to be tossed around.”

“How long have you felt this way?” She watches you in your haste, cleaning every speck left on the table in an attempt to avoid the conversation. You’re steeped in regret for even mentioning it to Nic. It was a confession locked in the depths of Pandora's box. 

It just came out.

“I don’t know,” you groan, disappearing into the kitchen before returning with washed hands and deadpan eyes.

Nic twists around the ottoman to face you when you come around, plopping yourself on the sofa.

“That’s a lie,” she states the obvious.

The popcorn texture of your ceiling suddenly becomes interesting when you toss your head back. I need to get my ceilings smoothed. You think to yourself while Nic waits. She won’t back down.

“I remember the exact moment I fell in love with him,” you sigh, tossing your hands up only to bring them back down on the cushions. You sit upright and look at Nic, “but it’s futile to even detail that because it’s never going to happen.”

“Do you want it to? I mean really want it to? Because he has a kid…”

Eyebrows knit together, you both have to laugh at that.

“I mean, you know, getting with Jungkook means taking on a child - although worthy to mention, a kid who absolutely adores you-”

“Please, don’t make me hurt more,” you press the pads of your fingers over your shut eyes, “I can’t even fathom how much it would confuse her - and I won’t entertain this past today. I can’t.”

“You’ve obviously been holding onto this for a long time-”

“And it ends today. Jungkook is my best friend, I vowed to be here for him and Mai as his friend, that’s it.”

“Okay, and when he finds a suitable woman and falls in love with her, then what?”

You can’t help the sadness that overwhelms your entire chest, eyes piercing through Nic, “ouch.”

“I’m sorry,” she takes on a new look of pity, leaning forward, “but that’s the reality, isn’t it? If you aren’t willing to-”

“Willing to what Nic? Confess to Jungkook and ruin our friendship? Ruin my relationship with Mai?” You retort, smiling because this is just too ridiculous to even consider.

“How can you assume he doesn’t feel the same?” Nic rebuttals.

You shake your head, “it’s not happening.”

That was 2 years ago. A night you remember all too clearly but push away along with the feelings steaming inside of you - chewed up and swallowed only to return from time to time like a bad case of acid reflux.

You scoff at the fortune bouncing around in your head, “not happening.”

“What are we shopping for exactly?” Nic comes up next to you, raking through the neutral-toned tops with not much of a care about what she is seeing.

“Um,” you pick out two tank tops and hold them up against you waiting for her approval, “that cruise I’m going on next month - didn’t we talk about it?”

“Oh yeah, wait-who are you going with and why was I not invited?” She queries, noting the way you move swiftly toward the dressing rooms.

You chuckle, “I didn’t plan this trip, I was invited,” you shut the door to the changing room before Nic can follow you in. She leans against it, quirking an eyebrow, “cheeky,” she laughs, “who invited you?”

She listens to you mull over your choices, hearing your feet shuffle on the carpeted floor; “uh, Jungkook did.”

You are immediately met with silence, peeking at the bottom of the mirror where Nic’s feet reflect as she turns to face the door. “Come again? You failed to mention this romantic getaway would be with your best friend-” 

Opening the door, Nic nearly falls in when you catch her. You roll your eyes; “have you always been this dramatic?”

She shrugs, “one of us has to be-back to my question.”

“Not a romantic getaway, Mai is coming and-”

“Wh-like a family vacation-”

“Nic!” Your jaw sets and she shuts it quickly, “his parents are also going, okay?”

Your friend blinks in disbelief and you give her a look that wills away any sarcastic comment she has at the ready. 

You have to hand it to her, she’s a witty one; “besides it’s kind of a company cruise for him, all the employees are allowed to bring guests, okay?”

“Noted,” she purses her lips. 

The silence between purchasing your items and the walk to the car is thick with Nic’s wandering mind.

“Can you just answer one thing for me?” You’re already sighing before she can ask her question once at the car. Tossing your bags in the back before getting into the driver’s seat with Nic buckled up and raring to go; “have you worked through all of that - you know, your feelings?”

You nod, “for the most part.” Nic drops her forehead into her hands, kneading away at her temples and you have to laugh, “okay, yes I have, is that better Nicola?”

“If you weren’t such a bad liar, yeah it would be!” Nic tentatively shoves your shoulder, laughing with you, “how do you manage it because I sure as hell could not.”

You relax for a moment coming to a red light, “Mai is number one here, how she feels matters first-”

“That is very noble of you, but hello, you’re human and your feelings matter too,” Nic adds with pointed inflect, “and I can’t believe I’m saying this but Jungkook should know better, inviting you to family functions like the three of you are a family before he runs off with some random-”

“Nic,” you send a wavering look her way, “I don’t mind watching Mai when I have the time, I love her-she’s like-” you startle yourself, “I just love her, alright? I don’t mind it.”

Nic shakes her head when you turn away, your eyes set back on the road. An uneasy feeling settles inside of her, wondering how you’d managed to lie into believing all of that; “Look, you know I care about you. I know he does too I just think he’s a little blind and I’m just worried it’s hurting you-”

“I’m fine,” you practically sing.

“Okay, so you are now but it will hurt you eventually if you keep pretending like this,” Nic flattens her tone.

“I said I am fine,” you say with emphasis, “anyway, it’s Sunday which means dinner at their house-” you look at her knowing she has a smirk waiting for you. You both look at each other on instinct, eyes squinted at one another, “so I am inviting you to come with, okay?”

You both laugh; “yeah whatever, I’ll join your weird not-family-tradition for tonight.”

Sunday dinner with the Jeons proceeds as usual given the extra guest. Nic prides herself on where she can observe the oddities of your friendship with Jungkook and his daughter. Even she, sworn to never birth children herself, can’t help the fluttering of her ovaries as she watches the camaraderie built between you and Jungkook’s daughter. Mai teasingly stiffens her upper lip, shoving her face near yours while a goofy voice bellows out of her. You roll your eyes at her, laughing before attacking her sides with tickling fingers.

It’s a smile on Jungkook’s face that Nic hasn’t seen before. Spending many a night out with the two of you and friends, she’s used to the suave Jungkook she’s seen at clubs. The way he talks to women, motions for them, how he sticks his tongue out just enough for flirtatious emphasis when he’s curled up with one. His ego is seen clearly across the dance floor; Nic is sure her face is turning green at the very thought of it.

“Alright kiddo,” Jungkook stretches, “it’s late-”

“Dad,” Mai whines, clinging on to you. You hide your laugh, noting the way she tries to fight her sleepiness in front of him.

He shakes his head, “it’s a school night Mai- bathroom - brush your teeth, now.”

You can’t help but feel sorry for her, catching her pitiful stare that has so fittingly fallen on you, you chuckle, “come on, I’ll tuck you in afterward.”

With that little bit of incentive, Mai jumps off the couch, quick to slouch when she passes by her dad, meekly waving goodbye to Nic before she disappears down the hallway; “be right back,” you call to them, following Mai’s very sad trail into the darkness.

Nic sighs, eyes quick to find Jungkook, “so-” her smile flattens when he finally looks at her.

“So?” He adds, his eyes slit in wonder. Nic has always been the wild card with a fiery tongue.

She widens her grin, “I hear you and your family are going on a cruise.”

He just nods, smiling into his glass before taking a drink, “she’s coming too.”

“I mean that was implied-” Nic snorts, “that’s sweet.”

Jungkook chuckles, catching the sarcastic look in Nic’s eyes, “what are you on about?”

“Jeon Jungkook you are clue-”

“She was falling asleep while brushing her teeth,” you come out with a hushed laugh, “practically had to carry her into bed.”

Jungkook tears his eyes away from Nic, both friends staring at you before they force a laugh. You shrug it off, grabbing your things along with Nic’s who meets you at the door. Jungkook follows, his hands shoved inside of his pockets.

“Thanks for letting me tag along,” Nic exaggerates her tone, accepting Jungkook’s hug before getting into the car.

You turn back to him with eyebrows raised and he shrugs.

“Okay, well I’m going to be pretty busy with work the next few weeks, they want overtime - god-” 

Jungkook laughs while you struggle to get your arm in the sleeve of your jacket; “the sleeve is twisted-here,’ he says, pulling it out and holding it straight for you.

“Thanks.”

“I guess we’ll see you at the ship then,” he says, playfully pushing you toward your car.

You gently kick his ankle, “night, Jeon.”

He smiles at you, bending forward to wave at Nic who offers him a short smile; “text me when you get home.”

As always, you wave to him without a second look.

“Did dad receive the confirmation for your parking spot,” Jungkook asks while swinging his keys around his pointer finger, leaving a house he just showed, “it has the information on where you’ll park your car at the port.” 

“He did and what about you, will you be doing the same?” Mrs. Jeon then asks about you, “how will she get there?”

He can’t help but giggle, his ever-curious mother always wondering about you, worrying that a small task may be a little too inconvenient for you, “you should pick her up really.”

Jungkook settles into his car, a playful eye roll following his mother’s assumptions, “already taken care of mom.”

“Good,” a sigh of relief can be heard on his end, “how is she anyway, we haven’t seen her since Mai’s little school performance.”

“Slow down, yeah?” Jungkook chuckles, “she’s busy too but good, I think anyway. She came over Sunday for dinner-”

“As usual,” Mrs. Jeon snickers to herself, “why don’t you bring her over here for dinner once in a while? I would like to see her too.”

“You really want that?” He arches an eyebrow.

Mrs. Jeon clicks her tongue, “yah, my son, you say that as if she hasn’t been an important part of my grandchild’s life. Of course, we want to see her but you say she’s always busy.”

“Oh,” he pouts, thinking it over, “well we have a whole week to catch up so you can make up for lost time then.”

“Mhm,” he could hear the smirk on his mom’s face, “she deserves a break Jungkook-ah, you know?”

Jungkook nods as if his mom could see him, “of course she does.”

“Between her work and then watching the baby, you keep her busy.”

Jungkook frowns, “yah mom, this is why Mai acts like a baby sometimes, she’s not a baby anymore, she’s turning eight-”

Mrs. Jeon clicks her tongue in protest again, “she’ll always be my grand-baby, and you - you’re forever my baby…”

He can’t help but smile this time, “yeah, I know. Anyway, you make it sound like I employ her or something, she comes in on her free time- whenever she pleases.”

“Ok ok,” his mother’s gentle laugh he can remember so clearly from childhood eases out of her, “I just worry she’ll think otherwise.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t mom,” Jungkook sighs.

“Anyway, that’s what dad and I will be there for, yeah? To spend time with Mai and give you two some free time to do whatever-”

“And some family time with all of us, but I appreciate it, I’m sure we can squeeze in a childless night.”

Mrs. Jeon chuckles before ending the call, but not before one more reminder about inviting you over to dinner sometime soon.

Jungkook laughs to himself as he pulls into his driveway. Like clockwork, Mai’s school bus arrives at the corner. He steps out and waves to the bus driver when they drive off before Mai comes running down the sidewalk and into his arms.

“Hey, dad!” She wraps her arms around his neck, kissing the cheek he purposefully puffed out for her.

“You’re getting big, bean,” he groans, faking a backache after setting her down. He rests his hand atop her head, hanging her backpack for her before they trail into the kitchen.

“Your muscles aren’t so strong anymore then,” Mai quips, tossing a quick shoulder shrug her dad’s way when he turns back from the refrigerator to glare at her.

“Smart-alec,” he mutters, tossing a small tangerine at her. She dodges it and sticks her tongue out at him, screeching when he makes a run for her. With several feet of height on his daughter, Jungkook snatches her in no time, throwing her over his shoulder, tattooed fingers tickling her sides.

Jovial screams and giggles leap out of the little girl until he tosses her on the sofa, her dark hair a wild mess and cheeks red, “not fair dad, you’re still bigger,” she pouts suddenly. Jungkook leans over the couch, laughing while swiping Mai’s hair out of her face, pinching her cheek in the process, “what do you want to eat for dinner, kid? Ordering in tonight.”

Mai jumps up in excitement, shouting your name.

He laughs, pulling his phone out to peruse a menu to order from, “not tonight- I have a work dinner, so you’ll be-”

“Not a babysitter-dad!” Mai whines, stomping her feet toward him, “I don’t want a babysitter, they aren’t fun.”

He shrugs, taking her chin in his hand and squeezing it, “sorry babe, she’s busy tonight.”

“Fine, whatever,” Mai turns in one swift motion and disappears into the den, homework in hand. 

Jungkook groans with a slight curl to his lip, “yah, whatever…” he says to himself, wondering when his 7-year-old became a teenager.

With aching feet and a dull throbbing in your head, you sit at the breakfast nook in silence, swallowed up in the pleasant darkness of your apartment.

“Is it time to retire yet?” You want to cry like a baby, be coddled like one, rocked to sleep. 

Just then a ding from your phone pulls you from your minute misery; a text message.

[Mark]: Okay, I’m going to level with you, should I stop trying? This is the third time in the last two weeks you’ve canceled our date…

You purse your lips, re-reading Mark’s message while the conversation you had with Jungkook weeks ago looms in the back of your mind.

‘Always something wrong with every guy you date…’

You shake your head; that’s not true. Mark is a very sweet guy. He is kind of introverted in a big group but alone, he’s all about you. He treats you well and as much as Jungkook wants to tease you about it - Mark is not a bad kisser.

But…

You sigh as you tap away at the keyboard.

[You]: I’m sorry Mark…as you can see, I’m not great at being forthcoming…or communicating.

[Mark]: no, what??

Haha come on I’m an adult, I can handle rejection :’)

You smile, warmed by Mark’s playful attitude.

[You]: Is it worse if I say that you are a great friend? Because you really are.

[Mark]: Oo yeah, that hurts a little but you’re good, I’ll find some way to get over you..

[You]: Don’t make it worse >< seriously Mark, you’ve been good to me these last few months, it’s nothing personal.

[Mark]: you deserve it and I’m sure the guy knows it already

Your eyes widen.

[You]: Sorry.. what are you talking about?

[Mark]: Come on I’m not stupid either haha every time we were together and that kid called or her dad, you dropped everything to talk to them. Rubbing salt in my wound here, but didn’t you leave our date once to be with her?

Oh, that guy.

[You]: Right…He’s my best friend…and his daughter I mean yeah, I would do anything for her. So I can’t apologize for that, but this is even more proof that you are a great guy!

[Mark]: hahaha, ok I got it, I have to say this is the least demoralizing way any woman has rejected me before

[You]: You’re welcome? Haha. Good night (:

It couldn’t have gone any better, the guilt over Mark that settled in your stomach was now gone, but you couldn’t figure out why it didn’t make you feel better.

Mark is smart but he was wrong. Well…maybe answering Mai’s phone call that one night, while you and Mark were making out on his couch, was a bit excessive? You cringe at the thought…

Peeling yourself from those memories and the barstool proves easier when your incentive is to no longer question what everyone around you seems to have common knowledge of. Pouring water into a steel pot, you set it on the stove to boil for some ramen.

Not long after your meal is done your phone rings with the Jeons’ home number flashing across the screen; “Bean?” You answer, knowing it’s Mai since Jungkook only calls you from his cell phone.

You are greeted with an exasperated huff before she whispers harshly into the phone, “why didn’t you come watch me tonight?”

Choosing to eat straight from the pot because it was one of those days, you bring it into the living room, a grimace on your face, “my sincerest apologies kid. I told your dad I’d be busy with work since we’re all going on vacation soon.”

“Oh, well, I don’t like this babysitter, she treats me like a little kid,” you almost choke on your first bite of noodles, stifling a laugh at Mai’s dispense.

“Okay one - you are a kid and two - be nice, three - where is your dad?”

Mai scoffs with gusto into the phone, “work dinner,” she exasperates, “dad thinks I’m a dummy, I know he’s on a date.”

Your heart drops and with it goes your appetite, setting the half-eaten food down on your coffee table. You move the phone away for a moment, allowing yourself a second to let out a long breath before continuing, “how do you know that, you know your dad is a busy guy, he goes on plenty of work dinners.”

“Hm- again I’m smart, dad says he is going on company dinners when it’s actually with work people,” Mai’s tone is flippant, “but when it’s a date? He calls them ‘work dinners.’”

“Oh right,” you curse yourself for having this adult conversation with a child, “duh.”

Mai laughs, “dad has been going on a lot of work dinners-”

You clam your eyes shut, “y-you know what bean, I’m sorry but I’m exhausted- are you in any immediate danger that requires me to come over there?

“No,” Mai sighs with obvious disappointment, “I guess not.”

Even with the unsettling of your heart, Mai always manages to melt you to your core, “you sure?”

“Dad would be mad if I made you come here, I’m okay, I just miss you I guess,” her voice suddenly drops, and the little kid is back. The innocence you love so much about her pulls you in.

“I miss you too,” you say, “but hey- the cruise is coming up soon, okay? You’ll have your grandparents, your dad-”

“And you, duh,” she adds.

You shake your head, chuckling, “and me.”

After talking her through her irritation and simply missing the two people that are her entire world, Mai hangs up a little more satisfied.

You? You call it an early night, ignoring the dreaded feeling hanging from your heartstrings.

You aren’t sure how to feel once you wake up on the first day of vacation. Having lost sleep over the last week while bitterly packing for the cruise, you thought up several ways you could have canceled before getting to this day. Picking up your phone on several occasions to text Jungkook only to picture Mai’s disappointment. She likely would have shed a tear or two at your expense.

Finally the night before, you swallowed back your pride and zipped up your packed suitcase which was now sitting in the back of Jungkook’s trunk with the rest of their things. He and Mai sang along to a song while you tapped your hand against your leg, unable to keep the smile away from your face for long.

Mrs. Jeon greets you eagerly after smothering Mai in kisses, taking the three of you ahead as you enter the ship.

“Home for the next week,” Jungkook comes up from behind and puts his arm around you, pressing his palm into Mai’s hair and messing with it while she tries to fight him off. You move away from him and walk towards the elevators, “shall we settle in our rooms?”

Mai is the first to react, running toward you and grabbing your hand in the process before the rest follow.

Once in the rooms with Jungkook’s parents only a few doors down from your suite, Mai pops in and out of the door connecting your room to theirs, “we can have sleepovers every night!” She cheers.

You shake your head, laughing at her excitement while still taking it all in yourself. Jungkook comes in from your balcony, pressing two fingers against Mai’s forehead when she goes throttling toward him, “relax monster,” he chuckles, “and not every night, okay?”

“Okay, but at least when you go on work dinners,” Mai peers passed Jungkook’s hip at you making a face too devilish for a child, “I can sleep in her room?”

You’re glad the bed is there to catch you when you sit back. Jungkook gently pushes her head back, laughing, “we’ll see.”

You have to swallow back that all too familiar sickness, “come on Kook, it’s vacation.” Mai leaps forward with a toothy smile, “yeah dad, vacation!” She shouts, wrapping her arms around Jungkook’s legs. 

You watch the two of them dance around your room, Mai standing on top of Jungkook’s feet while they tease each other; “duck feet,” Mai says, proceeding to quack at her father.

“Do you uh- you have to work while we’re here?” You ask Jungkook. He sticks his bottom lip out and shakes his head, “nope, just one brunch with a few colleagues but that’s it.”

You despise the relief that immediately washes over you.

Switching into vacation mode proves a lot easier than you anticipated, given the new information Mai shared with you during that one phone call. You hate to admit it to yourself, but seeing Jungkook stick around for the first couple of days provides relief for you that he is in fact, not going on any work dinners this trip.

Shut up shut up shut UP…

Your thoughts eat away at your brain while you sit poolside, taking a break from carrying Mai around on your shoulders like a mermaid - per her request. You were her throne and she, the mermaid princess of an undersea world, Jungkook the villainous merman out to seek her crown. After a victorious battle against said merman, you urge Mai to continue playing with her dad because being the throne is a weighty job.

Watching them is almost better.

Like a shooting star, a smile beams across your face, sitting back to hold yourself together, barking with laughter when Jungkook throws Mai into the air. A shriek of excitement falls out of her until she lands safely in a big splash.

Jungkook raptures you as you look over to find his head tossed back, perfect teeth showing as he laughs with every part of his being - eyes closed, the only visible part of his face is the utter joy he is feeling.

Your heart beats faster, cheeks grow hotter but not from the sun. Like the kind of gasp that escapes you during a jump scare in a horror movie, a memory locked so deep floods your head. You lower the brim of your hat to hide the immediate tears that flood your eyes, relieved to see Jungkook and Mai continue to chase each other around the pool, making waves while splashing one another.

It was a long day, Jungkook enlisted your help with a colicky baby Mai in need. You read up on as many articles as you could before heading over to their place, finding him in a panic though he was trying to repress it for the time being.

With much effort on both ends, Mai was finally asleep after hours of fussing. Jungkook, desperate for his daughter’s relief to the point of tears, you decided to leave them alone in his bedroom while you claimed a spot on the couch. 

Waking up hours later, the sun is long gone. You head to his bedroom to say goodbye.

The door is still open and you find Jungkook lying on his side with his back to you, instead of sleeping like you initially assumed, he is humming. One hand rests under his head while the other moves in an up-and-down motion. You stand on your tiptoes and see Mai is still asleep, laid out on her back with her limbs sticking out, you cover your mouth to stifle a chuckle.

She looks angelic - long eyelashes tickling the tops of her chubby cheeks, you can even hear her heavy breathing beyond Jungkook’s soft hum.

“Is it possible to be this in love?” His voice captures your ears but it’s a welcomed sound. You can’t see his face but you’re sure he’s near to tears for the second time that day. Pushing off of the wall, you walk to the edge of the bed. Jungkook’s eyes dart to you, dropping his head, silently laughing at himself.

You pat his ankle, a chummy smile covering your face only to tease him, “I’m heading home, will you two be okay?”

He looks back at Mai before nodding, “thank you,” he sighs before moving out of bed but you try to stop him, assuring him that you can make it to the door in one piece.

“When do I ever let you walk out alone?” He whispers, kissing Mai’s cheek before carefully moving off the bed. He follows you to the front door. When you turn to wish him and Mai a full night’s rest, he swallows you in a hug. You stand stiff for a moment, unable to recall if this was something that had ever occurred before. You weren’t the bear-hugging type of friend.

Even more, you can feel your heart thrum against Jungkook’s and suddenly it becomes natural as you melt into his hold. You wrap your arms around his middle to which he pulls you closer and tighter.

Eyes closed, the feeling of being in his arms is overwhelming and cheesy as it all feels, you have to will the tears away as a rush of feelings come flooding over you. Every over-thought you’d wondered up to this moment is answered.

‘Am I falling for him? No…wait.

Do I love my best friend?’

“We love you,” Jungkook says close to your ear, shaking you from your thoughts, but with them are the crackings of your heart, “I don’t say that enough,” he adds. He finally releases you and you have to pull yourself together in a second.

“Jungkook, I told you I’d be here for you and Mai- no question.” You manage to say, clearing your throat.

Walking away from his house that night, you know for you, it’s all changed.

A shrill cry of your name jolts you awake, cold water splashing your midriff. Your eyes focus back and on Mai who is now sitting on Jungkook’s shoulders, “let’s race,” she says. Without hesitance you jump in after them, pulling a giggling Mai into the pool with you who begs for mercy.

After a warm shower, sleep proves victor over the book Mai begged hands and knees for you to read, but by the time you washed up and changed into fresh pajamas, Mai’s face was planted into Jungkook’s pillow, hair splayed across the white pillowcase.

Jungkook hears you chuckle from his place on the balcony. Turning to look over his shoulder just as you kiss Mai’s head, a gentle flutter in his chest mimics the rocking of the ship.

“She’s going to need an entire week to recuperate after this trip,” you come out and sit on the bench with him, drawing your legs up and holding them to your chest. Jungkook’s silence makes you curious, but when you look over, the look on his face tells you why.

Brows are set straight with his arms crossed in front of his chest, you can see every thought that's running through his mind. Instead of pegging him with a question, you tap his leg with your foot. He takes a sharp breath in, laughing at himself when he looks at you.

“I was just thinking,” he groans, moving forward to rest his face in his hands. Your heart crawls out of your chest in search of a way to soothe your best friend, yet all the same, you just want to hold him.

“I was just thinking…” he sighs with a shrug, “back when I was twenty-one, convinced I was this big hotshot with a realtor’s license and brand new BMW,” he laughs in shame, “ah- then all of a sudden there’s a helpless baby who I had no time to prepare for.”

You remember that time with him; recalling the day Jungkook called you to his then apartment, voice too shaken to explain why he needed you there as he returned a missed call from the local hospital. Of course, your mind assumed he was diagnosed with some kind of illness. 

But with the call on speaker, you watched the color drain from his face as child protective services spoke to him on the other end. Words are thrown around like fireballs- ‘your name was put on the birth certificate by her birth mother Mr. Jeon…a DNA test has been ordered so we will need you to come down to the clinic to complete it. For now, the infant will be placed with our services upon release from the hospital.’

‘No,’ he was quick to respond, ‘no-don’t do that please, I’ll bring her home. Can-can I bring her home?’

“You didn’t need that test to prove what you already knew,” you add, watching the way your best friend runs his hands back and forth through his hair. 

He took the test anyway and it was of course confirmed that Mai was his; “when you called me over, I couldn’t imagine what they would say and that was definitely the farthest thing from my mind.”

“Wouldn’t change it for the world now that I know I’m a capable dad but-” his confidence drops and you sit forward, bending your head until you can see his face.

“But what?” You ask.

“Any chance at falling in love is out the window-” you can hear the guilt in his voice when he says that. He sits back and you follow, keeping your eyes on him. He chuckles with a crooked grin, “what?”

“Why do you do that? It doesn’t hurt you?”

He sighs, looking back at the water, “it’s easier, isn’t it? Sleeping around rather than risking a broken heart?”

“Jungkook, Mai’s mother-she was foolish for leaving you and even more for leaving Mai-I mean let’s not forget she, herself never even told you about your child in the first place-”

“Yeah but I’m still an idiot for even going there with her, I knew all she wanted was something casual and I gave it to her just so I could feel something.” He shakes his head.

“But one really good thing came out of that, right?” You push, taking your fingers and nudging his chin to force a smile on his face. 

He doesn’t argue, thinking of the little girl that is sound asleep inside.

A quiet hum settles inside of your chest drawing Jungkook to look at you. Your eyes set on the moonlight reflecting against the water; “I love your kid Jungkook.”

Just looking at your smile when you turn to face him, it’s a sight that nestles deep inside of his chest; “I already did before you even brought her home but I swear, my heart almost can’t take how much I love Mai.”

The gentle rock of the boat begins to lull you into sleep; chilly ocean air creates goosebumps over your skin as you fight your eyes rolling back, your breathing slows as a content hum comes out of you. Jungkook watches you for a moment, noticing the slight chatter in your teeth that pulls a giggle from him, “come here.”

Your heavy eyelids open to look at him, blinking inquisitively as he brings you closer to him. “I’m trying to warm you up,” he chuckles with another tug of your hand. He scoots down to rest his head along the sofa so you can lay your head comfortably on his shoulder; Jungkook’s body heat is all you need to fully accept his invitation.

“Just so you know,” he clears his throat, “because I know how my kid is,” Jungkook’s voice sounds like a subtle purr, “she loves you too.”

Caught in a haze of exhaustion and more emotion than your heart can handle, you nuzzle against Jungkook’s shoulder, willing yourself to fall asleep with those sentiments in mind. 

On the cusp of a deep sleep, you swear you feel Jungkook press his lips to the top of your head as he carries you off into the room.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re immediately aware this is not your bed though it isn’t entirely unfamiliar. Your heart launches in your throat as you sit up on your elbows, eyes pressed shut.

Okay now!

They pop open, your initial concern to find Jungkook lying there settles when you see Mai at your side. Her long raven hair strung across her face. 

A snore causes you to jump; awakened by his snore, Jungkook looks at you with one eye open, his body contorted to the size of the narrow cot meant for Mai. His feet dangling off the edge.

“You could have slept in my bed,” you snort.

He sits up, the sheet falling off to reveal his rippled chest and abs. You’ve seen his muscles several times, but the setting is far too intimate this time. You have to look away, pulling Mai’s hair off of her face. Jungkook stands and stretches, “it was nice falling asleep to you guys’ breathing- peaceful,” he says before disappearing into the bathroom.

The days go by too fast. Each one was filled with various activities tailored to Mai as she enjoyed the time with her grandparents. On several occasions, she couldn’t help but announce how happy she was to have her favorite people with her all at the same time.

Although, on the second to last night, you fail to ignore when Jungkook doesn’t return from that brunch as soon as he assured Mai he would, showing up early in the evening sans tie and a fresh mark on the side of his neck.

He comes lazily into your room after a shower, greeted by Mai with open arms, “where were you?” She asks, pressing her face into his side.

“I’m sorry.” His answer is short and hardly an answer. You turn away to hide your disappointment, closing the coloring book Mai was using and putting away her crayons; “your parents said you had unexpected business come up after brunch?” You ask.

He looks at you and nods.

Liar.

“But look bean,” he picks Mai up, conveniently placing her where she can’t point out the hickey, “you’re going to dinner alone with grandma and grandpa tonight, okay?” Mai throws her head back, “you’re abandoning me again?”

You can’t help but laugh, curiosity pushing away the heaviness in your chest, “wait, why?”

Jungkook looks at Mai, “cover your ears.”

“But-”

He curls an eyebrow at her and with a loud scoff, she does as he says.

“They want us to have a night out. We can go to the club downstairs - dancing and drinks?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You shake your head, laughing while your resolve not to give in slips away, “I have a dress that deserves to be seen, might as well.”

While Jungkook spends the last few hours of daylight with Mai, you don’t waste any time and get ready. It isn’t often you can pamper yourself like this; hair laid sleek against your back, taking time on your makeup to ensure its lasting quality because you plan to dance away the troubles of your heart.

Just as you buckle the other strap to your heel, there’s a knock at the main door of your room. You peer into Jungkook and Mai’s room through the connecting door which has remained open the majority of the trip, remembering he left just a few minutes before to drop Mai off at his parents’ room.

You open it without much thought, stumbling back when you come face to face with your best friend. He catches you by the wrist, chuckling.

His hair is combed with an effortless side part, thick bangs swept on either side of his forehead. His patterned buttoned-down stands out though the short sleeves allow his tattoos to be on display. White slacks and a new pair of shoes adorn his lower half while a touch of gold jewelry ties it all together. Pushing your figurative tongue back into your mouth, you offer a simple compliment before stepping out.

Going unnoticed is the way Jungkook’s eyes slink over your figure, selfishly detailing in his memory how your dress fits you in all the right places.

“Hurry up slowpoke,” you call to him, already halfway down the hallway. He looks at you, wondering if you’ve caught him staring. You choose to turn away before he can see the smirk on your face.

Music booms around you while a colorful group of people aged from 21 to 90 fills the space for a final night of hoorah as you settle at the bar. Your feet are already aching after Jungkook pulled you straight onto the dance floor when you initially arrived. Having clubbed with him on many occasions, you aren’t surprised by his rhythm and ease in gyrating his hips to the music. Perhaps a little closer to you than you are used to, but you’ll allow a pass tonight. And really, are you complaining?

No. But you choose to ignore that voice in your head.

Jungkook is looking around until he finds your eyes. You blink, clearing your throat, “I have a confession.” He scoots in closer so he can hear you better, eyes dropping to meet yours. Stirring in his seat, you wonder if he’s fidgeting out of discomfort.

Liquid courage pushes you to continue, “I broke into my minibar and had a little pre-game before you came,” you admit. Jungkook drops his head and laughs at you again. His eyes squint beneath a beaming smile, you practically choke at how beautiful he looks, “y-you might have to carry me back to my room later.” Your tongue suddenly feels numb as you stumble over your words.

He nods, “you deserve to let loose,” his expression takes on more sincerity, “you do so much for me and Mai.”

If not for the mood lighting flashing in various colors, you swear Jungkook’s face is flushed. His blinks are slow and you wonder when he’ll stop looking at you like that-

“Here you are.” The bartender barrages in with your drinks. You jump slightly while Jungkook thanks the man, a straight line forming his lips.

After two shots and another finished drink, Jungkook is ready to dance into the wee hours of the morning. Head caught in a constant loop after those shots, you insist he goes on his own. Just then a woman’s voice appears close to your ear, causing you to jump back. Jungkook looks to where you are with some sort of a smile appearing on his face but you can hardly make it out through a hazy gaze.

He’s saying your name and you make every effort to concentrate, “this is my colleague, Rosie.”

Rosie smiles at you but you notice more the way her hands are wrapped around Jungkook’s bicep and then the way she moves her hand to smooth across his shoulders, tucking her fingers beneath his collar.

Rosie from brunch. You smile, “nice to meet you.” You can’t help when your eyes ghost over the mark on Jungkook’s neck once more, the one you’ve had to pretend wasn’t there the entire night.

“Likewise,” she hardly spares you a second look before her eyes are glued to Jungkook’s, “let’s go dance.”

Jungkook sets his attention on you when you stand, making it a point to plant your feet firmly on the ground, “go, I need to use the restroom.”

Rosie wastes no time and pulls Jungkook away.

You groan, staring at yourself in the mirror, eyes weighed down with one too many drinks though you’re still able to stand on your own. That deserves a pat on the back along with your determination to not allow this night to go sour as you make your way out to the dance floor once more.

But it all comes to a screeching halt when you spot Rosie and Jungkook, even more, the way his lips hover dangerously close over the skin of her neck, his hand smoothing over her waist. Their bodies are pressed together as they dance with not an inch of breathing space to spare between the two.

You can’t help the fire that rages through you though tears sting your eyes. Before he can see, given he even looks up for one minute, you make a desperate escape towards the exit.

Stupid..so stupid. Stupid on a monumental level. What did you think was going to happen-he’d magically fall in love with you on this trip? Yes…NO.

You sniffle as you rub the heels of your feet, skin red from the pain inflicted by your choice of footwear. Even after a long shower, scrubbing the black makeup off your eyes that melted onto the bags that are now present - you can’t shake the aching in your chest.

“Ugh,” you groan, tossing yourself back onto your bed. Hair still sopping wet from your shower and dressed in your comfiest pajamas, nothing could soothe you at this point. Mind still swimming in a drunken state, you wish you could just black out already.

Click.

The door to Jungkook and Mai’s room closes. You shoot up into a sitting position once more, immediately regretting that. Jungkook peers in through that middle door, chuckling at you and a little less drunk than you. He always held his liquor better than you did.

That fire flickers in you once more, so slight but it causes you to twitch. You can’t un-notice it, even when you look away for a moment while he moves over to you. His hair is a mess, shirt hastily buttoned, and the collar is tinted pink, not to mention the faded lipstick marks around his jaw. He steps any closer to you and you could name the brand of perfume she was wearing.

“Club closed like two hours ago,” your words are still a bit slurred. Jungkook just chuckles, “yeah, I’m beat.” You shake your head while he moves back in the direction of his room.

“Old habits die hard,” you mutter venomously.

Jungkook cocks his head, taken aback, “what?”

You straighten your shoulders when he looks at you, “are you really going to risk putting yourself in this same situation again? Just for a one-night stand? Have you forgotten how Mai came into the picture?” The deep frown on your face is hardly enough to hide how you swallow back the gasp following your accusation. The dagger you’ve pierced him with digs into his back while a crushing pain swallows him whole, you can see the crumbling beneath your best friend’s eyes.

His cheeks grow red when he turns back towards the door, “go to sleep,” he mumbles in a tone that has the ground shaking, tossing his room key to the side, “you’re drunk.”

You flinch when he slams the door shut.

The swaying of the boat doesn’t help the unsettling waves in your stomach and throbbing head. Even with the new presence of another person on the balcony, your head remains cradled in your hands.

“Here,” Jungkook says in a low tone but it still makes your head throb. He reaches out to you with a water bottle in hand, “and take these.”

You peer up, the torturous rays of the sun hurt your eyes. You shake your head. Jungkook smacks his tongue in disapproval, taking up the bottom space of the lounging chair you're sitting on. He opens the bottle for you and brings it up to your lips, “stubbornness won’t make you feel better, drink.”

“Oh god, please don’t say that word,” you retch, taking a sip. Another second later Jungkook pops the two aspirin into your mouth, assisting you with another swig of water.

The rushing waves settle around you but the awkward silence can be cut with the dagger Jungkook was still holding onto. He sighs, looking away from the wooden deck of the balcony.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so drunk before,” he says. The strained laughter that follows makes your chest grow hot along with the heaviness in his tone.

You feel his gaze fall over you and you finally look up at him, removing your sunglasses. He doesn’t tear his attention away from you, waiting to see if you’ll do anything, say anything.

“Do you remember-”

You’re nodding before he can finish his sentence, “I remember what I said.” You wish you didn’t, probably even more than Jungkook wishes he never heard it.

Jungkook sits there a little bit stunned, straightening his back and you can see the frown grow on his brow, “not that I owe you any explanation - I didn’t sleep with her, we just - I don’t know I just couldn’t-”

You question him with your eyes, “you’re right Jungkook, you don’t need to explain anything to me, we’re both adults.” You cut him off before it can hurt anymore, irritation lining your tone which Jungkook picks up on the latter. Somehow he still misses the longing behind your eyes.

“How about some leniency? I’m trying to be nice even though you insulted me last night-”

“You don’t have to be nice to me, I was out of line so let’s just drop it. I’m sorry for ever saying anything-”

“Will you let me care about you?” He snaps back. It catches you off guard, even when he’s been angry in the past, he’s never snapped at anybody. But the shock isn’t enough to stop you from feeling angry too.

“What are you talking-if this is you caring about me then please, spare me. I mean y-you came back to the room like nothing-” you groan out of frustration, swinging your legs over the lounge chair to stand up. The uneven weight nearly sends Jungkook to the ground but he manages to catch himself.

“Like nothing-what?” Jungkook follows you into your room.

“Nothing Jungkook, nothing happened, that’s what I mean. And you know what, nothing is ever going to happen,” you mutter, tossing clothes into your opened suitcase.

He grasps for the words falling from your mouth, managing to hear every last one, “what do you mean?”

You shake your head, “look let’s just give each other space, yeah? We only have today left so let me just do what you brought me here to do - let me do what I do best apparently.”

The riddled expression on his face only makes you grow more impatient for him to leave you alone; “that’s why I’m here right Jungkook - to take care of Mai while you rendezvous? I’m just a babysitter for Mai - that’s all I’ve ever been to you since she was born, right?”

His eyes grow cold while your words only chip away at him more and more, “you’re my best friend, I invited you to come because you’re like family-”

“Oh, just stop!” You twist pieces of your clothing between angry fists, “stop doing this to me-stop saying those things to me, stop cuddling with me like we’re-we-” you’re sputtering on the edge of stone-cold tears, “you just-you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“Then tell me,” he urges you, “for God’s sake talk to me instead of pushing me away-”

“Jungkook, I love you,” you cry desperately, your body sinking, “I-I love you, and I can’t do it anymore.” You collapse onto the edge of your bed, praying the tears will go away so you can get a coherent thought out, shaking your head.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jungkook.” You weep quietly.

All he can do is whisper your name to break the deafening silence.

“Just leave,” you look at him with red, tear-filled eyes, “please.”

“But we should talk-”

“I won’t do this anymore…I just can’t,” you can’t stop crying, “please leave.”

There isn’t anything more heart-breaking than when the door shuts behind your best friend, you are left alone to steep in the figurative mess left around you. A storm rages your mind while tear after tear continues to fall, even when you occupy yourself with stuffing everything into your suitcase. Some hours pass when you’re still in your room, suitcase packed. You can hear Mai enter their room, voice muffled behind the closed door she was so used to being open.

Follows is a stern call of her name from Jungkook just before the doorknob turns but abruptly stops along with your heart. You can hear her asking him why before you assume he pulls her away from the door.

You force your eyes shut, pressing your tear-stained face into your pillow and praying the last day on this god-awful ship will magically be over when you open your eyes again. Body exhausted from the emotional day, you feel yourself sink into darkness until all subconscious thought disappears.

It was a fight to get Mai to understand why you weren’t going home with them the next morning. You never lied to her. Not once in all of these years. Not until today when you told her it had to do with work, that was why. She slumped into her grandma’s hug before going over to the car per Jungkook’s request who was standing near you.

“Jungkook, I just want to go home and I already called an Uber so-”

He just nods but you can see the hurt in his eyes, “will you text me-us? Text us when you get home?”

You look down at your phone, “I-um- I need to go over to the waiting area where I’ll be picked up, thanks for inviting me.” With that, you’re turning away before he can even breathe a second time. Jungkook can’t tear his eyes away from you, watching you walk away, wanting to watch you until you're a speck in the distance.

“Mai is buckled in Jungkook-ah.” His dad calls him away before he can do any of that.

His thoughts spiral on the drive back home.

‘I can’t do this anymore…I won’t do this.’ Your words play like a broken movie reel in his mind. A sick feeling settles in Jungkook’s stomach; a strong taste of bile rises in his throat as he wonders if you mean it.

The days following begin to fuse into the next before you realize two weeks have gone by. Two weeks of missed phone calls from Jungkook but even more painful are the missed calls from their house phone.

Mai.

You have to hold your stomach every time you think of Mai. The innocent one caught between two adults she thinks the world of, the only two who are her entire world. It’s enough to make you want to lose all contents of your stomach which hasn’t been much lately. Getting by on a couple of sips from your morning tea and a bite or two of unbuttered sourdough bread before heading off to work.

Everything has lost its taste, life as you know it has lost flavor.

You always enjoyed work, as stressful as it could be at times. But it was becoming your mute therapist because you couldn’t talk about the things warring your mind. They just bottled inside of you, one after the other; when would it finally implode?  

Three knocks sound at your front door and you jump away from the counter, a small plate with a sad sandwich placed on top of it. You abandon it, you’re sure the bread is starting to mold anyway. Poking your head around the corner, your eyes are wide as they stare down the narrow hallway. The runner in the center of the floor is left askew, shoes tossed under the hallway table cluttered with your keys and three days of mail; everything is left unopened.

The doorbell screeches like a hungry crow; you yelp a curse before clamping your hand over your mouth. There’s no way he has the gull to show up at your house…

A muffled call of your name sounds on the other side of the door followed by rapid presses of the doorbell.

It’s Nic.

You sigh, moving down the hallway as quickly as you can before tearing the door open. Nic stands there with her arm up, her hand fisted ready to knock on the door, “well, hello stranger!” Her voice is laced with sarcasm and a toothy smile to boot. She’s already setting her things down on the small breakfast nook that separates the kitchen from the living room, she follows your every move until you’re standing on the opposite side of the counter, a waiting expression sits on her face.

“Wine?” She asks. You’re impressed when she pulls a long bottle out of her purse, something like Mary Poppins would do if she wasn’t so cheerful.

You shake your head, pushing the bottle back into her bag, “I’m cutting myself off forever.”

“Ah,” she nods knowingly and it’s confirmation enough that she is aware of the revelation that occurred on the cruise. You know he called her and asked her to check on you.

You lean onto the counter and Nic does the same after propping herself up on a barstool, “he sent you,” you state rather than ask. You know your best friends through and through. And beneath your broken pride and splitting heart, you can admit that they know you just the same.

Instead of a joke, she just purses her lips and offers you an apologetic smile, “he did.”

You shrug, resting your hand under your chin. The two of you continue in a stare-off that holds a thousand words between your shaking eyes and Nic’s patient ones. She doesn’t press you like you’re used to, but perhaps that’s because she can see the sheen across your eyes or the way you keep swallowing back the lump in your throat.

Nic, opinionated in all her ways and always managing to impose them on the ones she holds near and dear, bites her bottom lip when you close your eyes only for a few tears to fall shortly after.

She clears her throat, pressing a tissue into your hand while your head hangs low; “you should talk to him, babe.”

You’re shaking your head and Nic sighs, biting back her words until you pick your head up to look at her. 

She’s careful but direct; “So that’s it, you just cut him off? For how long are you planning on doing that - for forever?” Nic knows how ridiculous that sounds. Even more than when you swore you would take your once secret love for Jungkook to the grave.

“That’s the plan,” you croak, pressing the tissue over your eyes so it can soak up your tears.

“And Mai?” Nic retorts.

Your hands drop onto the counter along with your stomach; there’s no answer for that.

“Custody isn’t necessarily a thing between friends-”

“Nic,” you give her a stern look and she apologizes.

“Look, you don’t need me to say this because I know you, and I know how much you love Mai,” Nic’s tone sounds desperate for you to hear her, “but I’m going to say it anyway - I get seeing him and talking to him sounds incredibly painful, but are you really willing to lose that little girl’s trust? I mean anyone can see that she worships the ground you walk on,” Nic can’t help but chuckle but her seriousness never fades, “if you decide never to talk to them again, that-” Nic pushes her pointer finger onto the countertop, “that will be excruciating for her…” The second to pause allows you to feel the final crushing of your heart before Nic finishes.

“You can’t make this choice for her and not be in her life all of a sudden just because you want to run away from reality - Mai is just as much in this painful reality with you and Jungkook.”

You hate how right she is. You hate that Nic has taken every single word out of your mouth and made sense of it.

The sun is setting over the city as Jungkook continues to stare out the window of his office. It’s the end of a long workday. He’s tired after showing several houses from one end of the boulevard to the other. His feet hurt, his neck is aching, and he’s sick of wearing this stupid suit.

But he can’t think of anything else. He can’t think of anyone else. All he can think about is you. Sick with worry about his daughter who has no understanding of what’s happened. She’s asked to sleep with him every night for the past two weeks, it was the only thing that could soothe her anxiety. He wanted to be mad at you for cutting Mai off. Himself, he could understand, but Mai? Then again, he wondered how much he was to blame too. Did he unintentionally put his daughter in this spot? Going out with a different woman at least a few nights a week, asking you to babysit Mai every time? If he had just been honest from the beginning, maybe none of this would have happened.

He scoffs at himself, ripping his tie from around his neck and tossing it onto his desk. Of course, idiot, if you just confessed years ago, this wouldn’t be happening. Mai wouldn’t be experiencing her first heartbreak at seven years old. Selfishly, he wouldn’t have had to see the hurt that split you right down the middle when he waltzed in that night covered in another woman’s touch.

All the times you saw him that way.

Idiot. He has to laugh. Idiot doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“Hi baby,” Jungkook sweeps Mai into his arms when he finally arrives home, relieving the babysitter. Mai rests her head on his shoulder, pressing the moles she can see on his face with her finger. He’s not used to her being so quiet. 

It’s late; way past her bedtime.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Mai sighs into his shoulder.

“I know,” he rubs her back, walking into her bedroom. Maybe she could manage it tonight. Mai doesn’t fight it, climbing under her comforter when Jungkook pulls it back for her. He sits on the floor next to her bed, knees curled up to his chest, he looks back at Mai whose eyes glisten under the glow of the starry night light, “guess we need to talk, huh?” She asks.

Jungkook chuckles, pinching her cheek, “shoot.”

Mai’s eyelashes flutter when she looks away, “she always has dinner with us on Sundays,” she starts, “is she mad at me?”

Jungkook is quick to settle her disquieting thoughts, “never in a million years bud, she could never be upset with you.”

“Then why isn’t she coming over to see me?” Mai isn’t crying, but her eyes look back at Jungkook and he can feel a tear in his heart when she does.

He sighs, holding Mai’s hand inside of his; “I hurt her feelings, so I think seeing you makes it hard for her because I’m always with you, right?”

Mai nods, “So say you’re sorry dad.”

He muffles a laugh, “it’s not that easy for adults sometimes.”

“Why? Don’t you miss her too?”

“I do,” he admits, “and I care a lot about her too.” Jungkook says, eying Mai, searching for the right words before he continues, “do you know what that means, bean?” He rests his chin on top of his hand, stroking her hair away from her face with the other. Mai observes her dad, hands pressed underneath her cheek.

“Grandma says when you care about people, it means you love them, so-” she twitches her nose inquisitively and Jungkook can’t help but giggle, leaning in to pinch it, “ask me questions,” he says, helping her out.

Mai yawns, not too far from sleep. But Jungkook can’t resist this time before bed, when his daughter is on the precipice of sweet slumber and they are alone, talking about whatever. Most of the time they are teasing each other, but if Mai has spent the day with you, Jungkook especially wanted to hear about it.

“I guess, does it mean you love her like you love me?” Mai asks.

The corner of his lips quirk into a smile, “I love you more than you can ever know-” he stops to catch the twinkle in his daughter’s eye, “but this love is a little bit different.”

Mai nods and follows with a big yawn. Jungkook leans in once more to kiss her forehead, “sleep tight.”

“I won’t let the bedbugs bite,” May yawns again.

Before Jungkook steps out of her room, Mai squeaks, “dad?”

“Yeah?” He turns in a heartbeat.

“I love her too, and well you know how the other kids at school-well most kids have their moms you know?”

He can feel the final shattering inside of him when he goes to rub his chest. Jungkook moves in, sitting next to Mai when she sits up, “I feel like I love her how a kid is supposed to love their mom-like she is the very best friend I will ever get to have, dad,” Mai looks up at him, “if she is mad at you, please make it better because I think we need her for forever.”

Tears brim the outside of Jungkook’s eyes, his smile trembling when he stares down at his literal heart in the shape of his child; “I love you so much,” he pulls her into his lap where Mai finds solace hiding her face in his shoulder.

“But my friend at school can never know that, it would hurt her feelings,” Mai muffles against him. Jungkook manages a gentle laugh, pressing a long kiss to the top of Mai’s head, his tears going unnoticed by his daughter.

The last time you received a call from Mai’s school was a year ago, she pushed a boy who tried to put a dead lizard on top of her head. He fell back and scraped his elbow. Mai was not about to let the school call her dad.

‘He won’t be as mad if you’re with me!’ She insisted, holding her hand in yours as the two of you crossed the street, a detention slip in her other hand.

Listed as the third emergency contact under her grandma, your stomach churns, wondering why they would be calling you. There is no question whether you would answer or not.

“Hello?” You breathe slowly into the phone.

The woman on the other end informs you she’s the principal; “Mai’s father and grandma haven’t returned our calls; the kids had an early release today but it appears they have forgotten to pick her up, and the buses have all gone.”

You frown, they never forget to pick Mai up from school. And if either one couldn’t, you were the next in line if she wasn’t going to take the bus; “oh-uh okay, I-um-I can be there in-” you look at the clock above your desk, ignoring the incomplete work before you, “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

You rush around the room to gather your things, darting for the door with your keys in hand.

By the time you’re walking up to the school Mai is running through the main doors, the principal right behind her smiling as Mai meets you halfway. She clings around your waist and it instantly causes your eyes to water, “hi bean.”

“I missed you,” she says, pulling herself off of you only to grab your hand. She pulls you with fervor to your car, barely giving you time to look back and wave at the principal.

Once settled in the car you turn towards the backseat and look at her with raised brows, “did they know you were getting out early?”

Mai purses her lips, eyes widening when she shrugs in response, quick to open a book to read when you start the car.

“Hm,” you turn around without much afterthought, making the drive back to their house. It’s been three weeks now, three weeks since that morning which you’ve tried desperately to forget, and three weeks since talking to Jungkook and Mai.

You aren’t sure what classifies as tension between an adult and a child, but the Mai who is usually speaking faster than she can keep up with has taken to staring out the window, staring at the buildings whizzing by and trees blending into the other. You look into the rearview mirror every so often, pretending you don’t know why she looks so indifferent.

Hugging you was a good sign, but now she seems awkward, dashing out of your car and beating you to the front door. You eye each other when you make it there. She gives you a sarcastic look, looking at your keys for a moment before you get the hint. You always had a set of keys to their house. It felt weird using them now.

Mai pushes the door open impatiently, the keys still in the lock with your hand attached to it, “hey-geez, slow down will you-no running-” you smack your tongue, setting your things down when Mai runs down the hallway to her bedroom.

Your chest fills with air as you take a glance around their home, singing praises that Jungkook’s car is not in the driveway meaning he must have been too busy to eat lunch at home.

“Mai,” your voice echoes down the hallway, “Mai you know shouldn’t be running in the house.”

She’s sitting at the small table her grandpa made for her, her homework already laid out and a pencil in hand. You watch her for a moment, waiting for any sign of acknowledgment of what you’ve said. But she just sits there, chin resting in her hand while she reads over the assignment.

You sigh, moving to sit on the floor next to her, looking over her paper to read the words but all you can see is the blank expression on Mai’s face. You poke her hand, “anybody in there?”

She moves her hand into her lap and starts writing.

You know why she’s doing this and you can’t be upset, but it does sting a little. Usually, it’s a fight to get her to do her homework when you’re around; “so you’re just going to ignore me? I thought you missed me.”

It’s only then that her eyes dart to meet yours, her eyes a mirrored reflection of her father’s. It’s always amazed you how they twinkle like stardust is floating around in them. You attempt a smile but it just falls when you notice how her eyes are glistening with tears.

“I missed you too bean-”

“Na-uh, I’m a kid but you don’t need to lie to me, I’m a tough kid.” She defends herself.

“Mai,” you sigh.

“If you missed me then you would have come to see me, but you didn’t for three whole weeks, so you’re just a liar,” Mai abandons her pencil and drops her face onto the table, creating a barrier around her head with her arms.

That cuts you deep.

A liar.

You sit there and listen to her sniffle before working up the courage to touch her arm, she flinches and you wait for her to pull away but it’s more surprising when she doesn’t.

“Bean, will you look at me please?” Your tone is soft as you rub her arm. She shakes her head.

“Please," is all you can say. You watch her chest heave when she complies a minute later, cheeks wet from her tears, she can hardly keep her eyes on you. You reach over and wipe her face with the back of your hand, squeezing her chin in the process. She bites back a smile.

“You lost a tooth!” You gasp, holding onto her chin and moving it down to reveal the new gap in her bottom teeth. She can’t help but perk up at you noticing, “it fell out when I bit into an apple,” she giggles. You laugh with her, watching her round cheeks glow pink; “Mai, I really have missed you.”

She moves her lips in a thinking manner, finally, you can breathe a little bit easier when her eyes find you, “I told dad you are my best friend. And usually best friends like to see each other, so,” she hums, scrounging around for her thoughts, “so you didn’t come over and I thought you just didn’t want me to be your friend anymore.”

You’re shaking your head, cursing at yourself, “that would never happen, not in a million lifetimes kid because you’re my best friend too.”

She understands but you can still see the questioning in her expression as she tries to piece it all together so it can make sense. You pull Mai closer to you until she is sitting right in front of you, her legs tucked underneath herself; “I am so sorry bean, for not talking to you and for not coming around-” you start but you wonder how to continue, looking around the room as if there is some viable answer written on the walls, “I was…angry about something and it hurt me really bad. So I thought being alone would make me feel better.”

Mai plays with your hands, perhaps not even noticing she is doing it, “did it?”

You have to chuckle at her, if only you had a measure of Mai’s honesty, you and Jungkook would not be in this current situation, “no, because I just ended up hurting the one person who means so much to me, the only one who has never hurt me back.”

Mai looks at you hopefully, “me?”

A smile beams across your face and you pull Mai into you until she is giggling, “yes you, silly.”

After a moment of light-heartedness, Mai settles back down, drawing circles into the shag rug, “dad said he hurt your feelings, so I guess this is all his fault.”

You hum, rubbing your hand over her hair, “well - no, I can’t put all the blame-”

“MAI?” The desperate yell for her name causes both of you to jump. Mai clamors to her feet, darting into her bathroom and slamming the door shut.

“What-Mai?” You’re launched into a panic, one over the fact that Mai’s face drained of any color at the sound of her dad’s gruff voice and second, it’s Jungkook’s voice.

Her name falls off of his tongue like rapid fire. Before you can say anything he tears into Mai’s bedroom and comes to a screeching halt at the sight of you. He’s breathless, staring at you. All you can manage is to gesture at the bathroom door, “she ran in there.” Just then Mrs. Jeon comes in behind her son, worried eyes finding relief upon seeing you, “oh thank God, please tell me Mai is here,” she sighs.

You nod, confused as ever, “her principal called me because it was an early day and nobody was there to pick her up…” You stop, realizing there was a major miscommunication and Mai was the culprit.

Jungkook’s eyes are fierce, eyebrows in a straight line when he moves in front of the bathroom door, hand rattling the doorknob which is now locked. He makes a fist ready to pound on it when his mom stops him, “you’ll just make it worse,” she speaks calmly, looking back at you. Her hands are trembling when she reaches out to you, you move forward and grab them.

You fumble with words, “She must’ve-”

“We’ve been looking everywhere for the last hour - since when did my kid start scheming - open this door Mai!” Jungkook starts again, his worry fuming out of him.

“Jungkook-ah, please,” Mrs. Jeon pleaded, pushing herself between the door and her son, “the important part is that she is safe…why don’t you go to the kitchen, get some water and just relax for a moment.”

“Mom-”

She shakes her head, “I will talk to her, now go.”

Hesitantly he drags his feet and leaves the room. Your stomach does flips when Mrs. Jeon settles her attention on you, hand resting on the doorknob of Mai’s bathroom.

Please, don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t-

“Will you keep an eye on him, please? I don’t know why but he’s been so worked up lately-” Mrs. Jeon shrugs, unsure of what else to say. You take a deep breath in, nodding as you march out of the room at a snail’s pace.

He’s bent at the waist, face pressed into his palms before he runs them back through his hair- it’s shorter now. He takes a deep breath that is promptly cut off when he sees you standing there, your hands resting on top of the granite countertop. Your fingers twitch with anxiety, palms feeling clammy as your heartbeat picks up again.

He finishes a glass of water, turning around to set it down in the sink. He doesn’t look back at you, resting his hands at the edge of the counter, “thanks for being there,” his voice is barely audible, “you-uh, you don’t have to stay-”

“I’m sorry.”

His shoulders tense, another breath is trapped in his throat at the sound of your voice. It rasps and shakes at the threat of new tears but you hold them back for as long as you can. You aren’t sure how long that will last.

“Jungkook?” You aren’t confident saying his name, unsure if he is seething because of Mai or if it’s really because of you.

He nods before turning around, looking at the top of your head before his gaze shakes over your eyes until he gives up, looking down at the floor.

“I don’t know-” you stop when you hear Mrs. Jeon come down the hallway, she stands next to you and rubs your back, a more relaxed smile on her face.

“She failed to let us know that it was an early day, says she forgot,” Mrs. Jeon shrugs. You and Jungkook look at each other knowing full well that Mai is the mastermind behind this very moment; “but she understands the severity of what she caused and is ready to apologize to you,” his mom looks from her son to you, “and you.”

Jungkook thanks her and walks her to the front door after she hugs you; “oh,” she calls to you gently, “come over for dinner soon? It’s like pulling teeth to get this boy to bring you over, we miss you.”

You just nod, smiling at her before Jungkook closes the door behind her. He rubs the back of his neck, reclaiming his spot across from you. The island provides a safe space between the two of you as you lean your weight against it.

“I’m sorry,” his tone is unsure but you can feel the guilt radiate from him, “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that,” he sighs, “and so many other things.” He mutters the last part but you manage to hear it.

“I was hurt,” you swallow so hard that even he can hear it, “I’ve had so much pent up - for years…I just lost it.”

“We always talk about everything. I mean, d-don’t you think I would have wanted to know about something that important?” His words are desperate to be heard, steeped in weeks of constant questioning.

“You make it sound like confessing is so easy,” you can’t help the frown that appears, “the risk involved? Because telling you just so I can be rejected doesn’t mean just losing you,” your voice struggles, “I’ll lose Mai too and god, I can’t stomach that.”

He’s looking at you now, directly at you, blinking away what you can only assume are tears.

“I-I didn’t want to risk that so I held it in, I pushed it away until I believed that I didn’t love you anymore but,” you shake your head, “I realized it wasn’t going to go away even after every date you came home from. How I’ve had to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach when you traipse in after you’ve been with another woman, a woman that could never be me - will never be me. I was so mad that I couldn’t be jealous enough or hurt enough by that to stop loving you. I want to stop, but I can’t figure out how-” your words taper off when you notice a trace of a smile spreads across his lips. 

“Are you sm-smiling?” Your hands tremble and you’re ready to storm out of there.

He is smiling, it’s barely there but you can see it. 

“Can I say something?” His eyebrows lift as he looks at you with hopeful eyes.

You aren’t sure if you should be offended by the crooked smile on his face, the same one that melts your insides and makes your palms sweat. You just nod, ready to take on another offense.

“I love you too.” His voice is shaking. 

Everything stops. Your heart launches into your throat and you aren’t sure if you’re breathing anymore. You can feel your mouth fall open, you have to tell yourself to close it. Jungkook just waits.

The confident, suave Jungkook you know all too well is replaced by the loving human you have known even more. The man who masks his worth with fleeting escapades that never last past one night or a weekend at most.  

“What? What do you mean,” you stutter, your lungs feel like they are collapsing, “why are you telling me this now?”

Jungkook closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head, “I’m scared too.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you. 

He takes you in, the intensity of his stare enough to make you fall back, you can only hope there’s enough strength left in your legs to hold yourself up. Your stomach flips when he makes a step forward to which you take one back.

“You didn’t give me a chance to say anything when it all happened,” his feet move toward you again in one small step, “I wanted to tell you then but rightfully so, you were so upset. Then you were telling me to leave-”

“I didn’t-I-”

“You didn’t want me to reject you?” Jungkook fills in the blanks for you. You nod sheepishly, wringing your hand around your wrist.

The air stills when Jungkook’s fingertips graze your hand, “have I ever rejected you since we’ve known each other?”

Your mind races. Intentionally, no he hasn’t. As much as you dropped everything to be with Mai, Jungkook would do the same. When your car broke down on the freeway late one night? Jungkook was there before the tow truck, a sleeping Mai in the back seat of their car. When you didn’t get the promotion you worked tirelessly to earn? He was at your apartment to pick up the pieces, later that night you and Mai baked cookies together and ended that awful day with a movie - the three of you cuddled up on your couch.

Jungkook has always been there.

“God, all I’ve ever wanted is you,” Jungkook can’t stop himself long enough to allow you to stay in your thoughts. He can practically see your heart thumping out of your chest, he can feel your warm breath stagger out of your mouth. It isn’t until he decides to reach up and touch your neck with a ghostly touch does your breathing still. His touch is so slight it leaves goosebumps all over your skin. You swallow the lump in your throat when his hand grazes your jaw before he cups it around the side of your face. His fingers rub the shell of your ear.

“Do you still want me?” He fills the gap between you with careful steps; you can see the longing in his eyes and you wonder for how long you’ve missed that. With the little space left, it’s almost too difficult to look up at him; “Jungkook I-”

His breath stops at the sound of your voice like he’s ready for the ultimate rejection. His beating heart prepares for more pain.

“Yes,” You’re breathless. You only catch a second of the smile spreading his cheeks before he pulls you in. Muscular arms wrapping tightly around you but he’s careful to leave breathing room. All too naturally, your face nuzzles in his shoulder, breathing in his scent as your arms fold around his waist.

His nose presses into your hair, cheek warm against your temple.

“Wait,” you push your hands against his chest to create space. He grabs your hands to keep you close, “are you serious?”

He chuckles, nodding, his warm breath casts over your face, putting you deeper under his spell.

“After all of that happened, I didn’t think I had a chance. I didn’t think it could even be a possibility before,” his eyes look uncertain now, “you know too much about me,” he runs his fingers back through your hair, “but you are everything to me…you’ve loved Mai without me even asking you to,” he sighs, his expressions always more serious than most but it’s the Jungkook you know. Innocent eyes staring down at you, “watching you with Mai these last seven years has been the highlight of my life, but it was torturous too-”

You press your face into his chest, chuckling while tears overcome you, “torturous?”

Jungkook picks your chin up and kisses your tears away; “you were always in arm's reach but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, I just settled to silently love you.”

You shake your head, allowing Jungkook to wipe each tear away with his thumb.

“I was afraid it would confuse Mai. She’s my world too, you know?” You whisper.

“She’s too wise for her age,” he brushes his nose against yours, wearing the smile that exposes his bunny teeth, “trust me, she knows enough that we should be a family.” 

His eyes search for an answer in yours, you don’t have to ask for the question running through his mind when his gaze sweeps over your lips. The only thing that forces him to stop is when he chuckles low.

“What?” You smile, head floating in ecstasy, you think you could pass out.

“I guess that stupid fortune was true.”

You shake your head with a small smile. He fidgets, “I love you-” he manages to get out before your lips press against his. They are slightly chapped but so soft as they mold to yours. You can feel your skin growing hot when his tongue rubs against your bottom lip. It takes everything in you not to burst right then and there, fallen victim to his tender kiss.

“I love you,” you stop to say. His slight pout at the break in your kiss makes you chuckle.

Jungkook lets his chin rest against your shoulder when he pulls you in, the two of you staying that way for a little bit. If not for the quiet pad of Mai’s bare feet tapping down the hallway, he thinks he could have stayed that way with you all night.

His eyes brighten when he sees Mai stoke around the corner, saucer-sized eyes spying on the two of you.

“Come here bean,” Jungkook’s voice surprises you, and you pull away as Mai runs into the kitchen. Before you can say anything to her, she wraps her arms around your middle, nose pressed into your hip. She muffles something.

You sniffle, “I can’t understand you,” you giggle, grabbing her chin in a tender grip so she can look up at you. Her eyes are wet again, resting her chin against your stomach, “I said, I love you.” Mai whispers like her dad can’t hear her. Her cheeks grow red and she immediately shies away.

Jungkook rubs her back with a loving stroke when he hears your breath catch in your throat. You kneel and take Mai’s face in your hands, “I love you so much, bean.”

“Enough to stick around forever?” She laughs nervously, swallowing back a soft cry, “because it was horrible without you, dad doesn’t know how to build forts like you do.” Jungkook laughs, nudging Mai’s back with his knee.

There’s a gentle mending in your heart when she says that, you stroke her hair and laugh with glistening eyes, “I promise I’ll build forts with you until we’re both too big to fit in them, and even then kid, you can’t ever get rid of me.” You are struggling to hold back the ugliest of sobs.

Mai doesn’t answer, she only falls forward into your arms, nuzzling her face into your hair. Jungkook joins you, resting on his knees to wrap the two of you into his hold. 

You pull your face away enough so you can look at him. He kisses you before mouthing the words you’ve so yearned to hear him say; “I love you.”

[zepskies]

Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers. 

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors. 

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning. 

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court. 

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out. 

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot. 

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going. 

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media. 

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one. 

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism. 

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy. 

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks. 

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent. 

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it. 

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek. 

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?”

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason…she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him. 

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it. 

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat. 

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you. 

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you. 

You’re not ready for that. 

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you. 

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him. 

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen. 

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks. 

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. 

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand. 

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in. 

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt. 

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping. 

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek. 

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.  

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

Smallville Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

JT Tag List:

@sleepyqueerenergy @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @fromcaintodean @deanbrainrotwritings @jackles010378 @akshi8278 @rachiem4-blog @waters-2567 @jessjad @sweettimelady @iprobablyshipit91 @leigh70

@clinicallydepresso @lokigirl666 @xiphoidbones @rominaszh @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @sanscas @kaleldobrev

[deadghosy]

“Attention Seeker”

SLYTHERIN OC X GN! GRYFFINDOR READER

Prompt: gaining the attention of the infamous Noah Drost, you must say you didn’t expect to like it in the end of it all.

Dynamic: strangers to enemies to lovers

Warning: didn’t proofread much, mistakes of writing, mentions of fighting and a small fight scene.

A/N: I’m bored so I wrote this while listening to an edit audio. It may be bad cause I never wrote for Hogwarts and might never will. WHO knows. Also inspired my Harry Potter phase and by Slytherin boy writers such as @theodorenmyth @phas3d @ahqkas and much more. (amazing writers btw!)

Noah Drost, Drost never knew to stop being a dickhead is what most Gryffindors said about the Slytherin. Always causing trouble and always setting people for failure, oddly he was an attractive lad with dashing charms. You never got the hype on why some of your girl housemates would even thirst for a "prick" like him. You never really got to know him, but the way he jokes around with others, the way his beautiful brown skin and that slit eyebrow did make it hard not to stare. But was he reallly that handsome to you? No one knows really.

What you mostly didn’t expect was to catch his attention. You didn’t need it later, and you definitely don’t need it now. He was certainly staring at you during charms class. Professor Flitwick was just yapping away in his lecture while you doodled a bit and took notes. Apparently doodling isn’t so peaceful when you keep feeling paper hit the back of your head. You turn around quickly with a sharp look only to see no one suspicious. But when you turned around, there it goes again. Those paper balls hitting your head. You turned around only for a paper ball to hit a bulleyes on your face. That’s when you heard that signature chuckle. You whipped your head at the curly haired boy who seemed to smirk a bit. "Why in the bloody hell is he messing with me?" You thought as you scoffed and went back to fully focusing now to the professor.

Week 1, your notes had ‘suddenly’ disappeared after you set them down? That couldn’t be right as you literally had them there…you kept checking around your desk. You were certainly going to freak out as you wanted to have a good grade. You’re not that much of an overachiever, but to not be with the class. You asked granger where your notes are and she looked sorry for you. She said she didn’t know and offer to help a bit. But really Noah was just chuckling behind his hand.

Week 2, after you figure out who took your notes. You made it clear to stay away from Noah but still give him dirty looks. He eyes you from across the hall, his deep brown eyes following your every move completely. Like a predator watching its meal walk freely. He hasn’t said anything yet which was good, but unfortunately wasn’t him. Usually he called you “lion” or “the cowardly lion” matter of fact when you didn’t do something about his antics. You scoffed at the thought of even thinking about him. “Thinking of sweet ol' me?” You jumped as you didn’t notice you practically walked past him. “How did he know?!” You thought turning around with an annoyed look. “Why in Merlin’s beard would I think about you?” You said crossing your own arms. Drost smirks as his eyes just hook onto your own. “I know everythin'…you can’t hide your prettty little head from me.” He then taps your head with one finger and taps his own head. You felt your eyes widen as your face felt warm. Quickly you walked away, hearing that echoing chuckle from the boy you seen. You hated his guts.

Week 3 was the final stretch for you. You was certainly in potions class, a fellow Gryffindor was giving you instructions. You mostly hated potions class because of professor snape, you knew he didn’t much like Gryffindors. So you didn’t want to mess up in front of his watchful eyes. As you look in the book and grabbed some ingredients, a figure quickly added another ingredient in the cauldron. Preventing from being seen by you, the gryffindor, and snape. Finally collected the ingredients, you set the recipe down. You only added a small piece of wolfsbane then suddenly the cauldron exploded. Particles of liquid scattered around the class, even hitting your face as you gasp. And there it goes again, that chuckle that seemed to enraged your whole soul and being. You swiftly turn around to yell only to face snape. And he did not look impressed. “..10 points from Gryffindors.” He said, looking down at you with a look that made you feel small. Most of the class laugh except for the Gryffindor you were helping. You glazed your eyes over towards the slytherin who you knew did this. Noah only smiled, a cruel smile. And you weren’t gonna let this slide for another second.

As it hit lunch time, everyone was sitted perfectly in the great hall. Almost too perfectly for a lunch. “DROST!” You yelled with a bellow. The great hall fell silent as you strutted a powerful walk. Your shoes echoing with each step as your eyes made an auto aim on the boy’s face. Your knuckles were almost white with how tight you held your wand in your dominant hand. Noah looks up, amazed at the Gryffindor he’s been pissing off lately. “Ah L/N..what must the Gryffindor want from me?” He says, his dimples showing with a small smile. “You bloody bastard! You sabotaged my cauldron and I want you to admit to professor snape or else I’ll drag you by your damned cloak and make you.” You said, you felt your heart pounding by your adrenaline. “Or what?” Noah said with a dark look. He stood up with a smirk, he was practically towering you. You stood your ground as you poke your wand to his chest. “What you gonna do lion? Roar your little words at me?” He grabbed your wrist tightly. You narrowed your eyes as you tried to pull your hand back only for him to bring it closer to his heart. He was testing you.

“Do it. Show everyone how 'brave' you are my lil lion.” You immediately dropped your wand and he smirked. You lifted your other hand and slapped him. The slap echoed making everyone’s head turn to the situation. Noah’s head was turned from your slap, he touched with his other hand that wasn’t holding your dominant hand. He scoffed and pushed you away. “Really? A slap. What are you, a ch—” before you knew it, your body reacted than your own mind. That’s when you punched him and he landed on his arse. His nose bleeding a bit. Now most students started an uproar. Noah angrily got up and tackled you to the ground. You grunted before feeling a punch to your cheek. “So you finally had the balls?!” He yelled grabbing to your shirt. His eyes dark, and the blood dropped to his mouth. Before he could land another punch he started to levitate in the air.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” a professor said as they immediately separated the two of you. Noah smiled crazily seeing you getting help by a student of another house. You glared at him before he got set down and escorted out. You still kept your eyes on the back of his head. That’s when he turned around and lick the blood off of his lips. You froze and looked away before a professor had told you that you will be getting detention tomorrow after you get checked up on in the hospital wing. You nodded, not having the energy to say anything else. The image of Noah’s face was now engraved deeply in your brain.

Honestly you hated his fucking face. You hated how he can just smirk with his nose bleeding, you hated how that was actually hot.

Maybe detention with him won’t be so bad..

Noah sat in his desk away from your own desk. You were doodling as he just stared at you from afar. You tried to ignore that heated gaze that sat perfectly on you. With each drumming tap of his fingers on the desk he was at. It was getting hard to ignore him minute by minute. “Y’know…I find it intriguing how you stood up to me. Lion.” He said with a tone you can’t explain. He smiled seeing you paused your drawing. “When you hit me, it felt like a kiss to remind me that you’re quite a brave one. Just unlike some Gryffindors.” You looked up at him weirded out as he only smirked. His dimples showing clearly which made your heart thump a bit. He tilted his head to the cheek he punched yesterday. “You look even more beautiful with that bandge on. Suits how coool you are my dear.” He teases lifting his head up as you lifted your own hand to touch your cheek. You scoffed looking away from the Slytherin. He raised a brow, sitting up correctly. He kept his brown eyes on you. He started to chew inside his mouth, he started to have second thoughts in how he basically pushed your limits during the weeks. He cleared his throat, getting out of his seat in one motion going towards you. “I..uhm. I’m sorry.” You slowly look up to see him walk towards you. His head down as he suck in his lip. “I was quite the arse to you and I must say I’m sorry for how I made you feel.” Those brown eyes that you can’t look away looks directly to your own eyes.

You for once seen vulnerability in his eyes. His brown eyes that seem to melt wonderfully towards your own eyes. You watch him closely incase it was one of his little lies. He kept that stare, a stare that begs for you to forgive. He cleared his throat again looking away from you. “It’s alright if you don’t forgive..you were right of course to call me a 'bloody bastard' love.” You chuckled at the pet name but mostly cause of the lack of confidence in his stance as well. His shuffling feet made it amusing on his part. You never seen him act this way before. You stood chuckling as you got up to face him. “Well…I suppose I forgive you.” You put out your hand for a truce. Noah’s eyes light up like stars, quickly taking your hand and shaking it with a smile. “Thank you li…I mean L/N..” he smiles, stopping himself to even call you lion. But you must admit to yourself that you did like the little nickname he gave you. “You like the nickname?” You jumped as you let go of his hand, only to see his devilish smirk. Before you could try to deny it, he intertwined his hand to yours. Bringing you close to his face.

He smirks, grabbing you by the back of your head. Your heads close together, eyes making contact as you held your breath. His smirk only grew wider, that dark wood scent was driving you crazy and he knew it. “Cmon darlin', speak your mind. I know your pretty little mouth likes to chat away.” He said, his voice low so you could only hear him. You bite the inside of your cheek, you wanted to slap him. But also kiss his lips, you didn’t know what to do. All you could was stare into his deep brown eyes that seem to hypnotize you. “Cmon darlin', I’m waitin'.” He starts to move away, his fingers leaving a slight lingering touch on the back of your head. As he smirked he didn’t know what shocked him most when you grabbed him by his tie and smashed your lips to his. His eyes widen, before you could break away embarrassed by your own boldness. He grabbed the side of your face and kissed you deeper, leaning forward. It was a hungry deep kiss, but also passionate. You drowned in his scent, the scent clogging up all your senses.

And ever since that, everything changed. And not for the worst surprisingly. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months with you two together. He started to actually be sweet than what was underneath that tough boy mask. He always carried your books, held your hand. He was slightly clingy but not in an overwhelming sense. He even makes sure you understand the class and give you notes. His teases are still there, but he’s more softer. You like how soft and how he shows how vulnerable he is.

One day, Noah basically ran towards you and tackled you to the floor, smiling wide with his pearly whites. “Ah my favorite lion! Have you missed me dear, why wouldn’t you.” The Slytherin boy had to go to a tutoring session and missed relaxing with you in the courtyard. He got up dusting his cloaks and helped you up as well. He seemed very happy to see you today, some students walked by. Giving odd glances that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor was much in a committed relationship. “Ah my favorite snake.” You snickered at him, he seemed to be waiting for something as he kept a closed smile on his face. The boy was nearly smiling his bloody ear off. You raise a brow while his own smile turned into a smirk. That’s where you realize and chuckle, leaning forward to do a small peck on his lips only for him to gently cup your face and kiss you hungrily. You must say, he is an eager man.

A/N: Sorry if it’s bad, I never wrote a troupe like this one. Hope it’s good!

[godsiero]

promises (found a title)

heyo, i’m back with PLOT and EXPOSITION. sorry it’s so long, but this is needed information! it could’ve been longer, but then i realized it was nearing 10k and decided to stop lmao. i actually edited and proofread this one before posting it like a big girl so i hope the five people who read it enjoy it! i love this so much, but also please criticise me.

chapter one is here

wc: 9k

warnings: physical abuse (oc), panic attack (oc), hurt/comfort (spencer is the sweetest), mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, general cm content, mentions of possible sexual harassment

__________________________________________

In the six months that had passed since joining the team, Claudia had started to fit right in, the same way Morgan had said she would. Any time she’d had off, she found herself sharing it with Spencer; discussing books and reading over the essays of past agents Blake and Lewis, whom he spoke highly of, and she wished she could’ve met them while they were on the team. They bonded over their time as professors, discussing the different experiences they’d had; Spencer with his classes full of auditing students (Claudia sensed there was something fishy behind that), Claudia with her classes full of boys who would never listen. That made Spencer a certain type of upset he couldn’t quite place. He’d ask her about it another time.

Claudia was the first person in a long time to hold a candle to Gideon when it came to playing chess with Spencer, again, it gave him a feeling in his chest he couldn’t quite place. When they played chess, they would either sit in silence, or they would both ramble off at each other about everything and nothing, and they quickly discovered they had a lot more in common than their academic tastes.

Claudia had put him in check during one of their games and mumbled “Allons-y!” under her breath in a tired haze. She hadn’t realized Spencer had heard her until she heard his laugh (which she enjoyed getting out of him, often, but that was neither here nor there).

“Were you showing me you’ve been working on your French, or were you quoting David Tennant’s doctor?” Spencer had his suspicions that Claudia had at least seen a little bit of the show. She had a scarf that was a subtler version of the fourth Doctor’s and sometimes he’d see her notes she would take during briefings and on the plane, and he’d notice she would doodle the different screwdrivers, but he’d never tell her he was looking so closely at something so small that was only meant for her to see. She would never tell him she’s noticed his wandering eye.

She smiled into herself, trying to avoid his gaze, cursing herself for outing one of her secrets so obviously. It was one thing to subtly hint she’d had the interest, it was another thing entirely to let it slip out so clearly. She’d wanted to wait a little longer before showing the team who she really, really was, but she thinks she’d be fine with him knowing her a little better than anybody else.

“What if it was both?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows and smiled, “Why didn’t you tell me! We could’ve been watching it together this whole time!”

Hearing him say the words “we” and “together” in the same sentence and referring to her gave her a certain sort of pride and honor she did not want to think too deeply about, considering he probably used the same words when talking about something else with someone else.

“I don’t know…” Claudia decided to come clean, partially, “I might have been…hiding a few things about myself for fear of seeming…juvenile?” She phrased it like a question because saying it out loud to someone for the first time made her feel really stupid and she suddenly regretted ever hiding herself from any of them, especially Spencer.

He looked her in the eyes, “Claudia. Your personal interests, no matter how ‘juvenile,’ do not diminish your intellect. Liking Doctor Who and having fun does not make you any less of an academic, it makes you human.”

She was surprised by how empathetic he was being. She’d gotten to know him on a personal and friendly level, and she was proud of that (especially since, according to Penelope, he was unusually quick to open up to Claudia), but she hadn’t expected him to be so…compassionate.

“I know, but…” she focused her gaze somewhere else, trying to think of a logical reason to explain away why she felt lying so profusely was necessary. She wanted them to know her, why was she still hiding?

“No, there doesn’t need to be a ‘but,’ you can just be honest, now. I’ve found you out, I know you’re a nerd, I know you’re a loser, just like me, it’s okay,” she knew he was joking, but he gave her a sympathetic look anyway, to prove it.

“First of all, doctor, you do not know a thing about me, in due time.”

“Oh, really?” he kept his playful air about him while going on his rant, “Then how do I know you’re never listening to a podcast when you have your headphones in? How do I know that you’re actually listening to a variety of music from various genres that are all subgenres of rock or metal? How do I know that your favorite of all of that music came out between the years of 2002 and 2008? How do I know that you often listen to the same songs over and over again because you can’t get enough of them until you catch an itch to listen to a different song approximately 12 times in a row, without getting bored? If I, presumably, don’t know a thing about you, how is it that I know, arguably, the most important thing about you?”

For lack of a better word, Claudia was speechless.

He had just made an absolute fool out of her and she couldn’t even say a word.

So she started laughing.

She wasn’t laughing at him. She was laughing at how stupid she had been to think she could’ve gotten anything past him, especially the thing that meant the most to her.

“Are you laughing because I’m right? Because I know I’m right. I know I tend to be right, but there is a less than 5% chance I’m wrong and just made an idiot of myself,” he was chuckling along with her.

Gasping for air while she spoke, or rather, yelled, “YES! Yes, god, you’re right, you’re right! But Jesus Christ, you didn’t have to hit the nail on the head, Spencer!”

He gave her a playful side-smile, “I knew I’d figure you out. You had me fooled for a while there.”

“That was the idea.”

“Why? I understood the fear of appearing juvenile, but, forgive me, your music taste is anything but. And that’s coming from someone who listens to Mozart and Bach.”

“I just wanted everyone to see me as this…proper…professional. I don’t know, being the youngest on a team full of people who have known each other for a decade is a little intimidating,” she was the one rambling, now, “so long story short I tried to hide everything that made me, me so everybody would like me and think I was incredible at this job, and it worked, I guess, because JJ and Emily come to me for advice and Morgan talks to me about his fatherly insecurities and Rossi invites me over to his mansion to discuss cultura e storia and I work out with Hotch and I don’t even know how I ended up in such situations, but it seems a thank you is in order to give to my fake self that is quiet, yet sassy, and firm, yet soft, and totally and completely calm any time you lay eyes on her, meanwhile Claudia Jessup is actually a loud and abrasive autistic freak who self-soothes by blasting music so loud, you’d think I’d gone deaf by now, and buying trinkets that make my heart flutter, and drinking coffee as much as I possibly can because it makes me feel like it’s always cold outside, and buying romance books because I just love reading about two people going stupid with how desperate they are for each other, and I also love the way they smell and how they feel when I flip all of the pages at the same time, and I love Peter Capaldi’s Doctor and I am tired of pretending he was a terrible choice.”

She finally gasped for air and came out of her self-induced tunnel vision to see Spencer. Still sitting across from her, at his chess table, in his apartment. He hadn’t stopped listening. He hadn’t gotten up and begun to ignore her. He hadn’t walked to the door to tell her to leave. He’d just listened. A grin adorned his face. He was bursting at the seams with pride. He was so happy to get the truth out of her. He’d gotten so close to her, so fast, that she’d let her mask slip a few times, and he was determined to crack her open, and he did. At first, he felt bad. He felt as though he’d pushed her too far, before she was ready, but he could tell, now, that she had needed to do that. She needed to stop hiding and lying.

“Feel better?”

She felt like she just finished with a manic episode. She was laughing with every exhale, she put her elbows on her knees, and put her hands on her forehead, staring at the ground, eyes wide, “Yeah. Yeah, I feel better. I feel…I feel like I just went supernova on you…”

“I certainly don’t feel like you just went supernova on me.”

“And I think if I stay here any longer, I might suck you into the black hole.”

She’d had breaks like this before. The end of a long period of masking. The beginning of the end was always an epiphany; it made her feel high. Then it was followed by panic; she felt like she’d gone too far, blown everything out of proportion, gone supernova. Then finally, she would bring everything in her wake down with her, in a fit of embarrassing, dramatic, and unintentional rage and emotion she’d never meant to place on anybody. She needed to get away from Spencer immediately; she didn’t want him to see that part of her. Ever.

In addition to the obvious, this conversation with Spencer, and his response and reaction, had flipped a switch inside of her. She’d realized there was something she needed to do before she could fully, officially open up to everybody on the team, and she thought she was finally in the position to do it. She got up from his chess table and started to get her things.

“Claudia, you don’t have to-”

“No, no, Spencer, it’s fine, I’m fine, I just…really don’t want you to see what happens next…”

“Where are you going?”

“I just…there’s something I need to do tonight.”

“I can go with you.”

“No, no, thank you, that’s okay. I need to be alone. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Okay…be safe.”

“I will, I promise. Get some sleep.”

“Okay…call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Claudia”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

As she left Spencer’s apartment, she double checked everything: her bank account, her lease, her insurance, her storage unit, her security system. She couldn’t believe it took her this long to act on the plan she’d been silently hatching with herself, but she needed to be positive she could do it by herself before making her first move.

Claudia spent the last five years in a relationship. She spent the last three years living with them. She spent the last two in self defense and boxing classes. Over the last six months, she’d been working up the courage to prove to herself she could survive on her own. Despite her time with the CSI, her time as a professor, and her time as a licensed therapist, she still had never been able to safely and securely leave. Something about Spencer figuring her out and her spilling her guts to him and him still hanging around without a trace of fear in his eyes made her realize she could’ve and should’ve done this years ago. She leveled with herself and said better late than never.

When she arrived home, he wasn’t there, thank god. She didn’t know how she was going to go about this, at all. She looked around and hated everything she saw. Like she told Spencer earlier, she would always buy little trinkets and toys and paintings and books and blankets and mugs she liked, but she never had anywhere to put them. Seeing things that brought her joy in a place that brought her so much pain made her feel stupid. She hated feeling happy around him. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure of even thinking he caused it, not that he would, he hated her just as much as she hated him. They barely even spoke or saw each other any more, neither of them were ever home at the same time, even before she got this job, not that she was complaining.

They did love each other, once. A long time ago. He thought she was smart, she thought he was alive. They liked the same music, ran in the same crowds, it seemed right, and it was for two years. It was nice, he was nice. Eventually, though, she’d started paying less and less attention to him. Not out of anything personal, but because her career had started falling into place; she’d become a professor at Penn, she’d been promoted with the CSI, and she’d kept clients for years, at that point; she’d gotten everything she’d wanted.

And he hadn’t. He built up a resentment towards her. He started partying more, drinking more, doing drugs, cheating on her (though he didn’t know she knew that). She didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but she knew something changed. It was when he came home in a drunken rage and hit her that she realized nothing would ever be the same. At the time, it had felt like a one-time-thing. You would think she would’ve left, given what she knew, but she saw it as an opportunity for a case study. Selfish? Of course, but she was putting herself at risk for the sake of science, she could live with that.

She had tried doting on him more, being kinder, going out of her way to please him, and she found he had been nicer, happier, more tolerant of her busy schedule. After a month, she started ignoring him again, throwing herself into her work, never coming home before he was asleep, and her theory was right, that set him off again. This time, he wasn’t drunk, and he beat the shit out of her. Shouting at her, spitting on her, very nearly breaking her bones, definitely leaving some deep cuts and bruises that took weeks to go away. In the middle of it all, she’d started taking classes to be sure if he ever went too far, she could fight back, and take him down. That went on until he got bored.

A year. She spent a year conducting this study. After he’d finally got tired of his affectionately abusive cocktail, he stopped paying attention to her entirely. That was when she really cracked down on her work, but the second she was able to focus totally and completely on that, Roy got sick. She would’ve finished her PhD early, but she started worrying about him. She stayed with him and cared for him as long as she could, until…

The months after were a blur. She focused on her work when she needed to. When she wasn’t working, she was at home. Not her apartment, but home, where she’d grown up. Going through everything, not that there was much. Roy was never a material kind of guy. He sure knew how to raise a material kind of girl, though.

She had taken far longer than she needed to. She didn’t want to leave that house. She didn’t want to go back to the one she lived in now. She didn’t want to be around him anymore. The day she had finished cleaning out the house was the day she decided to leave him, even though she didn’t know how. She knew it would take a while, but she promised herself, and Roy, that she would do it.

Claudia Jessup did not break her promises.

She’d had to move him to D.C. with her. He didn’t have to come, but he did. He could’ve ended it when she left Philadelphia, but he needed her for the same reason she needed him. She was about to rip that security out from underneath him, and she felt an excitement bubbling beneath her skin that was not unlike the adrenaline she experienced while out in the field.

She was determined to stay up until he got home. She didn’t know when, or if, that would happen tonight, but it didn’t matter. It was a promise she made herself, so she was going to keep it.

She got in the shower, taking advantage of the solitude and blasting her music for the first time in what seemed like forever. She needed it. She felt bad about leaving Spencer; she wanted to text him; she’ll do it when she gets out. She’d make it up to him on Monday, when she brought him his coffee.

That was a sweet exchange. Claudia had done into the bullpen with coffee from The Grounds. Not her favorite place to get a cup from, but certainly the closest and easily accessible on her way to work. You would never believe the absolute shock on her face when Spencer had entered her and Penelope’s conversation with a cup from Coci, her preferred choice of coffee shop in the harbour. She instantly started interrogating him about it.

“Is that from Coci?”

“Yeah, it’s not my favorite, but my favorite is kind of out of the way for me, so I settle for second best. Anything beats the pot here,” she feigned betrayal on her face at his admission.

“How dare you.”

“What?”

“How dare you say drinking from Coci is a ‘second best’ kind of experience,” she said dreamily.

“Because I believe it is. I don’t think it’s bad, it’s just not what I prefer. I’d love to get a cup from The Grounds, but that would add an extra twenty minutes to my commute, and that’s not worth it.”

She looked at him, dumbfounded, looked at her own coffee, and turned it toward him so that the label faced him.

“You mean…this ‘The Grounds’ coffee?”

It was Spencer’s turn to be playfully shocked, “Oh my god! You go to The Grounds?”

“Since moving here, yes, and I would say this is second best to my one true love, Coci.”

“Well I think it’s settled then. How do you take yours?”

“Black and scalding, why?”

“I’m going to start bringing you your order, if you don’t mind bringing mine. This seems a fair exchange.”

“You’re not “boy genius” for nothing, clearly,” he’d told her his coffee should have at least eight packs of sugar in it, which made her laugh. When he didn’t say he was joking, she looked very concerned, “Wait, seriously?”

“Seriously.”

With that, a tradition had started: every morning, Spencer had brought her her favorite black coffee and Claudia had brought him his favorite black coffee…with a ridiculous amount of sugar.

“Sugar with coffee,” she said.

“Coffee with nothing,” he replied.

They cheered each other and said that every single morning since then, and she’d hoped it would never stop.

She’d gotten so wrapped up in the memory, she didn’t hear her music stop playing because she was getting a phone call. She was in the middle of washing her face when she opened the shower curtain to see she was getting a call from Garcia. She rinsed off her face with record breaking speed and picked up her phone, while still halfway in the shower.

“Garcia?”

“Hi, hon. I know it’s late, or, uh, early, but we’ve got a case. Get here as soon as you can and be safe.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in thirty,” and she hung up the phone. She could’ve said twenty, but since it was four in the morning, she figured she may as well keep up appearances with Spencer, while it was on her mind.

She hadn’t realized how late it had gotten and instantly regretted having the music so loud, she’d hoped her neighbors wouldn’t mind. She got dressed and stepped out of the bedroom, running into him.

“Jesus, Devon, I didn’t even hear you come in,” she wasn’t afraid of him, but she was afraid of somebody coming into her home, so not hearing that he’d come in shocked her a little.

“Feeling a little jumpy, Claude? Your big girl job scaring you yet?”

“You? Scare me? Not in a million years. And don’t call me that,” she pushed past him and tried to get her go bag from the front closet, but he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“Where are you going? It’s four in the morning on a Sunday.”

“One, I don’t have to tell you where I’m going. Two, this happens sometimes. Three, you’re drunk,” she could’ve pulled out of his grasp, but chose not to. Now was as good a time as ever to execute her plan. Case be damned, this needed to happen, now, or she wouldn’t have the opportunity again, for who knows how long.

He held onto her arm tighter, “What? You gonna arrest me for drinking, officer?”

“I’m not an officer. Let me go, Devon.”

“Why? So you can run off to your little brainiac?” he had let her go, but he did so by tossing her away.

“There is no way you are accusing me of cheating right now.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“Even if I was, which I’m not, why does it matter to you?”

He abruptly ran up to her, gripped her shoulders, and pinned her against the wall, gritting through his teeth, “Because I’d like to know if I need to teach somebody a lesson on loyalty.”

She spit in his face, then, which caused him to pull her off the wall and slam her head right back into it.

“You think you can treat me like that, bitch?” he was yelling now. She was holding the back of her head.

“Yes, actually, I do. You’re a drugged up drunk who beats on someone who’s never done a single thing to you besides stay with you through all of your bullshit, including cheating on her.”

He gave her a good backhand slap, that sent her to the ground, “You don’t know that, how do you know that?”

“I didn’t, but thank you for the confirmation,” she smiled a rueful smile at him and stood up. She felt blood running down her face. He had a ring he always wore on his finger that must’ve cut her face, when he hit it.

He hit her in the same spot and sent her to the ground again, this time with his fist.

“Keep ‘em comin’, Devon, beat the shit out of me like you always do!” at that, he put his hands around her neck, pulled her up, and slammed her against the wall again, this time cutting off her airway.

She choked out, “Go…a-ahead. Sh-show…the gov..ernment…what…y-you…can…do-”

He threw her to the ground at the reminder of her job, “God dammit Claudia, why do you have to be like this?”

“Be like what? Ready and willing to please you?” she was clutching her throat, gasping for air between words.

He had never liked when she was sarcastic, he grabbed her face with his hand, “Don’t fuck with me,” and kneed her in the stomach, throwing her on the ground.

She couldn’t help but let out a grunt, at that. She might be mentally fine with his abuse, but he was still fully capable of hurting her.

He flipped her over and straddled her, making sure she stayed on the ground, not that she was going to try to get up, and he went to town on her face with his fists.

Between blows she would manage to get out, “‘Do your worst, inferior one,’” this threw him off, so he hesitated on his next punch, which gave her the opportunity to take advantage of him. She tucked her leg under his bent knee and flipped him over, pinned his arms to the ground, and started pressing her forearm into his neck ever so slightly before getting really close to his face and saying, “Take a good look at your handiwork, Devon. Enjoy it while you can because you will never see me again,” her entire face was bloody and swollen. She knew he loved to look at the damage he had done to her, knowing it made her beautiful face unsightly, making people turn away from her on the street when her favorite thing was human connection. This was how he took her down. Or so he thought.

“Listen to me right now. Nobody. Will ever know you did this to me. The FBI will never know you did this to me. I’m not going to report you. I’m not going to have you arrested. I’m not going to tell a single soul how this happened. Not. Even. Spencer.” she knew that would set him off. He wanted to hate Spencer for ruining his relationship, for being smarter, for being everything he could never be. He was stuck in a state of delusion, thinking everything was fine before Spencer came along. He thought leaving his marks on her let Spencer know she was his and she belonged to him, not some nerd at her job. Little did he know she had never let anybody know the marks were from him because nobody knew about him to begin with. They knew she took boxing courses at the bureau, which they all knew could get ugly, but were worth it for the experience and pay off. Any marks they saw on her were easily explained away by that.

“You are going to give me your key. You are going to walk out of here before me. We. Are. Done. Do you understand me?” he didn’t respond because of the lack of oxygen getting to his brain, “Do you understand me?” she said it much louder, then, and he nodded as best he could.

“Take your key off of your belt.”

She let go of his left arm and he slid it down to his belt loop where he’d had his keys on a carabiner. He unclipped it and tossed it across the room.

After that, she climbed off of him, went to the keys, found the one he’d had to the place, and took it off. Triple checking he hadn’t made a copy. He was too stupid to hide one anywhere and she was too smart to leave one hidden in case of an emergency for him to know about.

He couldn’t even go after her to give her a piece of his mind because he was too busy regaining full consciousness while she was dealing with the keys. When she was finished, she walked back over to him, grabbed his shirt in her fist, and pulled him into a standing position. She didn’t say anything to him as she opened the door and shoved him outside. She locked all three locks before walking back into her bathroom to check the damage he’d done.

This was probably the worst he’d ever done to her. Her lips were busted, her gums were bleeding, her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks were bruised. She had cuts all over her face, her ribs were bruised, and there were ten faint lines burned into her neck from where his hands had been.

She looked herself in the eye and smiled. She started crying to herself. She’d never been more proud of something she had done, including make Roy proud. She was honored to be in this body and in this mind and make it out alive of what she’d just done.

She cleaned herself up, put on some makeup, and a few butterfly bandages.

She examined herself and determined the way she looked now would pass as “a few cuts and bruises from Luke at the training facility.”

Then, she remembered she promised Spencer to call him if she needed anything (it was not lost on her that she also promised him that she would be safe, and although she just got the pulp beaten out of her, she was safe the entire time).

While she was leaving her apartment, she’d called Spencer.

He picked up the phone with his typical sass, “Did you even sleep?”

“No. Did you?”

“Nope.”

“I told you to get some sleep!”

“I never promised that I would.”

“Touche. I made a promise, though, and that was to call you if I needed anything…”

“Coci?”

“You’re already there aren’t you?”

“You think just because it’s four in the morning on a Sunday I’d forget about my Claudia’s coffee? Who do you think I am? Some sort of criminal?”

She deliberately ignored how casually he called her his Claudia.

“No, somebody else did that already.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry. Too soon?”

“You can make it up to me by returning the favor.”

“On it, bud. Over and out.”

By the time she hung up, she’d gotten into her car, and made her way to The Grounds.

__________________________________________

Claudia had been walking into the front entrance of the BAU’s building when she noticed Spencer was the person a few feet in front of her.

“Hey! Sugar with coffee!” she shouted to get his attention.

He’d just finished swiping his card, so he opened the door and held it for her (which was strictly against policy, but it was Claudia).

“Coffee with nothing,” they exchanged cups as she walked through the door, “my god they did a number on you didn’t they?” he’d begun to inspect her face, seeing all of the cuts she’d bandaged. She looked at him, confused as to what he was talking about, then he saw where his eyes were going as he inspected her face, and remembered.

“Oh. Yeah,” before she could say anymore, she remembered she promised not to lie to him anymore. Her admission was honest enough. She never promised to not withhold information.

He had a subtle hint of concern in his eyes that he normally didn’t have when he noticed her cuts and bruises she got from the training facility. He felt like something was off about these, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knew she wasn’t lying, but something was off about how she avoided eye contact with him after he’d said something.

Then he remembered the facility didn’t have classes on Sunday, and when she’d left his apartment only hours before, she didn’t look like that.

He was just about to pry more information out of her, when they ran into JJ, coming from the opposite direction.

“Anybody else feel like they’re sleepwalking?”

“Tell me about it, I didn’t sleep at all, literally,” Claudia chuckled.

“Me neither, Henry has had food poisoning, and my mother was staying with us, talk about having your hands full.”

The elevator dinged. Claudia and JJ stepped into the elevator, while Spencer stayed put, stuck in a daze.

“Spence?”

“Earth to Spencer?”

He snapped back into reality and forced his thoughts of what Claudia was keeping from him back down his throat and into the confines of his reminders for later.

“Sorry, need to drink this coffee faster I guess,” he tried at a joke, but they could both see something else turning the gears of that big brain of his.

Claudia knew it had something to do with her, judging by his previous reaction, and considering she didn’t exactly want to talk about it in front of JJ, she stayed silent.

JJ, however, had other plans, “Are you okay? You look a little…”

Before she could finish, he blinked and shook his head like a dog after a bath, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just tired,” to really seal the deal, he let out a huge yawn, which made Claudia and JJ follow suit.

Mid-yawn, breaking the tension between her and Spencer, Claudia said, “My god, don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he picked up that that was her way of acknowledging she knew that he knew she was hiding something from him, so he calmed down a bit too. By the time he said that, they’d reached the sixth floor, only to be met by the rest of the team heading into the elevator.

“No time to brief you three. Wheels up now.”

__________________________________________

The plane ride was lackluster, the case is straightforward, but still unable to be solved, for now. This unsub is particularly frantic and unpredictable with his timing, but his MO suggests he was abandoned by his father and looking for surrogates now. Nothing they hadn’t seen before.

After a long flight to Seattle and the drive to this small town thirty miles outside of it, Hotch demanded everyone get some sleep in order to crack down on this guy the next day.

The small town hospitality was not unrecognized. Everybody knew everybody, so when the local police needed to house FBI agents who were trying to catch the man killing well-respected people of the community, loads of folks opened their doors, including a local inn.

Owned and operated by a retired couple in their seventies, it had surprisingly good business, which, unfortunately for the team, meant they had to bunk.

“Lucky for us they still have three rooms available,” Hotch said.

“Lucky? Hotch, have you noticed there are six of us?” Morgan was always the first to despise the idea of bunking with anybody.

“Yes, I have, which is why we’re lucky they still have three rooms and not two.”

“Well, JJ, let’s get a move-on,” Emily had already grabbed her go-bag and took a key from Hotch without a second thought.

“Well, I am absolutely not rooming with Reid,” Morgan had always had a strict “no Spencer” clause when it came to situations like this.

“Guess it’s you and me then,” Hotch had responded to Derek, until he realized who that left, “oh…”

Neither Spencer, nor Claudia, had realized this either until the moment came. Claudia had stopped scrolling on her phone and Spencer had stopped perusing the lobby, waiting for his room assignment, but they heard Hotch’s exclamation.

They both looked at Hotch, then at each other, the back at Hotch before saying, at the exact same time:

“It’s totally fine, we’re friends.”

“There’ll be a male and female pair no matter what we do.”

They looked back at each other one last time before Hotch said, “Okay. As long as you’re both okay with this arrangement, I won’t bother anybody over it.”

He threw Claudia the key before leading Morgan up the stairs to their room. Hotch muttered something to Derek that made him yell with laughter. Spencer and Claudia could only imagine what that was about.

As if on cue, the two looked at each other at the exact same time and started giggling like children who had caught their parents doing something silly.

“Come on,” Claudia said through her fit of laughter.

As she walked ahead of him, Spencer’s mind wandered back to the cuts on her face. He’d thought she’d had more makeup on today than usual. Not that he often paid attention to how little or how much makeup she wore (she rarely wore more than the bare minimum, but he only knew that because she wore a bit less than JJ, Emily, and Garcia). He thought it was strange that she not only procured multiple cuts, but had also been wearing a turtleneck in August. Not the most absurd thing to see, but definitely not ordinary. He wondered if she packed more to continue hiding.

They walked to the room in a comfortable silence, but there was still something lingering between them, and they both knew what it was.

Claudia arrived at the door and unlocked it, making her way inside to, thankfully, see two beds. She had read enough romance novels to know sharing a room with your best friend by chance usually leads things in a crazy direction she did not want to go into tonight (or ever, for that matter, she shoved that thought deep, deep down). She had also had enough sense in her to know that things like that don’t happen in real life.

“Which bed do you want?” Spencer knocked her out of her train of thought.

“Oh, uh,” she wanted to lie and say it didn’t matter, but it did, so she sucked it up and told herself that it’s just Spencer. She could tell him everything, no matter how silly or mundane it seemed.

“Could I have the one next to the air conditioner?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer stood in between the beds and threw his stuff on the one farther away from the ac, so that he could bow to her bed and say, “your throne awaits, my Queen,” in a truly terrible impression of one of the characters from the cartoon portion of Mary Poppins, but it made her laugh, nonetheless.

He started laughing with her, and while she tried to breathe through her laughs she asked, “What on god’s good earth was that!”

“I have no idea, I’m so tired,” he was still laughing, too, “but I did want to…diffuse some tension,” he calmed down to look her in her eyes, pleading for her to finish telling him the truth about what happened to her.

When she just stared back at him, he continued, “Claudia, there is no training at the facility on Sunday. You didn’t get those from Luke.”

She looked away from him, then. She felt her eyes start to burn, but she refused to crack in front of him.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Then where did you get them from,” Spencer was being very gentle with his delivery, which she appreciated.

After a moment’s silence, weighing her options, she said, “Spencer. I will tell you,” she took in a shaky breath, “if you promise not to tell anyone.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I,” at that, he held up his pinky for her to take. They’d had a discussion a while ago where they both thought keeping a pinky promise was above the law, space, and time, and they meant it, wholeheartedly. She looked between his eyes and his hand and took his pinky in hers. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed his thumb. He pushed their hands towards her and she did the same.

Neither of them tried to let go by the time she started talking, so they both held on tighter.

“Uh…so…like I already told you, I had been trying to keep parts of myself a secret,” she looked into his eyes to be sure he was listening (and also to seek solace). He nodded.

“Well, one of the biggest was that I…kind of…maybe…had a boyfriend…the whole time…” Spencer’s eyes went wide with shock and his brow furrowed at this admission. Of all the things he’s seen through, he never would’ve guessed that.

“You- what?”

He wasn’t mad, he was genuinely surprised.

“Emphasis on the word ‘had,’” she rolled her eyes, “as of this morning.”

Spencer realized where this was going and he felt his chest and jaw clench, his eyes burn, and his blood pulsing everywhere.

Claudia noticed those physical changes and she couldn’t help but look at him like he was a lost puppy. Seeing him like this hurt her more than anything Devon had ever done to her.

She wrapped her hand around his wrist that was holding her pinky, “I don’t want to make you upset-“

He cut her off, “Nothing you are doing is making me upset, I promise. Keep going.”

At that, Claudia sat down on the bed Spencer had claimed as his, and she pulled him down to sit next to her. She didn’t think she could look into those doe eyes of his any longer without completely breaking down, especially while saying what she was about to say.

“I started dating him halfway through the first year of my doctorate. I went to all of these concerts with my friends from my undergrad program and he was always there too. I thought he was cool. My friends who were friends with his friends thought he was cool. We kissed a few times, went on some dates, and started seeing each other. He supported me through half of my time at Penn; he made sure I ate between teaching courses and having sessions with my clients. He made sure I slept enough when I got back from investigations with the CSI, even if it meant canceling some of my classes, my students always understood. After we moved in together, something…switched in him. He started drinking, he stopped going to work, he started avoiding me. One day, after weeks of me being absent and juggling everything all at once, I came home and he was angry. A kind of angry I had never seen before from anybody. He…threw his nearly-full bottle of beer at the door I had walked through. It barely missed my head. When it did, he ran me into the wall and started choking me. My head hit the wall so hard, I nearly fainted. When I didn’t faint, he punched me. Then I blacked out…”

“Did he-“ she knew what Spencer was alluding to, and didn’t want him to finish his sentence.

“No. No. He never did that,” there were times, however, that she had felt the same amount of passion was not reciprocated. But she didn’t want to tell him that. That had nothing to do with this.

“I woke up on the floor, confused. I figured it was a fit of drunken rage, so I decided not to think too hard about it. That is, until, it kept happening,” Spencer felt like his muscles and his bones were going to rip out of his skin. His leg was bouncing up and down and his hands had started to shake from keeping all of this rage inside of him. Claudia noticed, but if she didn’t keep talking, she’d never finish. She needed this to end just as badly as him, and if she didn’t tell him everything, he would know.

“That was my life for a year. It only happened when he was drunk, but it got worse. After the second time, the time I knew it was all intentional, I started taking self-defense and boxing classes and I promised myself I would leave him, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t live by myself. I didn’t want to tell anybody this was happening, especially not-“ she felt a lump in her throat. She didn’t know if she should or could tell Spencer about Roy. Her eyes were wet now, but she was stubborn as all hell, and refused to cry in front of him about something as stupid as Devon. Roy, on the other hand, she could cry about Roy any time of day, and she wasn’t even a crier, but she didn’t think it was fair to dump all of that onto Spencer when she was already telling him all of this.

“Especially not who?” she hadn’t realized she zoned out while weighing her options. Now he would definitely know she was keeping something from him. Honesty, it is then.

“Somebody I…I can’t tell you about, right now, or ever, maybe, but…” she didn’t know how to justify her reasoning for that besides the fact that she had made a bigger promise to Roy to try not to dwell on him. Or talk about him. Thanks for the impossible task, jackass.

“It’s okay. Keep going,” Spencer was being so nice to her, she felt like she would shatter into a million pieces with how fragile she felt.

She told him about her study she’d conducted on him. Spencer recognized it as a part of her dissertation she had written. This whole time, his favorite part of her dissertation, a part that felt so clinical, so real, so calculated, and so emotional wasn’t about a willing client of Claudia’s. It was about Claudia herself. He felt like he was going to be sick.

She didn’t notice, so she kept going. She began to ramble because she realized that would be the only way to get all of this out. She told him about how their conversation led her to finally make the decision to enact this ridiculous plan of hers.

“Wait,” broken from his trance, Spencer spoke up, “I caused this?”

“What? Spencer, no, absolutely not. I need you to understand that I could’ve fought back. I could’ve taken him down. I could’ve done to him what he did to me tenfold. I chose to let him do so much. It was a…selfish, psychological manipulation,” she suddenly felt horrible admitting that’s what she’d done. She felt as low as him now, “Which I realize was stupid and immature, but…I wanted him to think he was safe. I wanted him to think this was business as usual. And then I wanted to rip the rug out from under him. Crush his hopes of thinking he ever had control. From the second time he’d done this, the control was in my hands. You know, he thought everyone knew he did this to me? He took pride in it, but he never knew I covered them. He never knew you all knew I took boxing at the facility. He never knew none of you knew about him, until I told him this morning. The look behind his eyes was priceless. I wish I could’ve captured it on film. He looked so…defeated.”

She’d developed a death grip on Spencer’s wrist and instantly let go. She felt like something was breaking inside of her. She didn’t feel like herself. She was an aggressive person. She was a loud person. Hell, she was even violent, when it came to a punching bag, but the way she psychologically tortured Devon with one sentence felt like she betrayed every good thing she had ever done in the name of justice.

She got up from the bed, then, and started pacing, “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“I don’t know, everything? Holding your wrist too tight, telling you all of that, god, you probably think I’m insane now. You probably think I’m an absolute psycho who gets pleasure out of making people feel small, oh my god, I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m so sorry, Spencer, I ruined everything, please please please don’t hate me, please don’t tell me I ruined everything. Oh my god I don’t think I can handle losing you, too, right now,” she had begun to shake and hyperventilate. Spencer almost couldn’t take the sight of her like this. He never wanted to see her in pain.

“Hey,” he touched her shoulder, and guided her to sit back down, “it’s okay. You’re okay. We are okay,” he had moved his hand from her shoulder to her upper back, slowly rubbing random patterns across it.

“Can you…can you please stop that?” Claudia had never found someone rubbing her back to be soothing in the case of a panic attack, she found it actually made her feel more suffocated, but she knew Spencer didn’t know that, so she tried to ask in the nicest way possible, given the circumstances.

“Of course,” Spencer instantly stopped and removed his hand, “is there anything else you’d like me to do instead?” He was using that godforsaken whisper of his that made him seem so damn kind and understanding. She heard him use it with children multiple times out in the field, but she never thought he’d be using it on her. The tears might start falling, now, she thought.

“I don’t…I don’t know, could you…could you hold my hand really tight, please?”

She still couldn’t get a hold of her breathing. Her eyes were sealed shut and she was rubbing her hands over her pants; she felt the need to be in constant motion to remind herself that she was still alive.

“Yes,” he grabbed her right hand in both of his and gripped as hard as he thought was necessary without hurting her.

“Could you…could you squeeze harder,” she needed to feel like her circulation was about to be cut off in order for it to work.

“Harder? Are you-“

“Yes, I’m sure.”

He squeezed harder until it hurt him to keep going, and he kept that pressure there until she told him to stop. While he was gripping her hand, her breathing slowed, and her left hand had stopped rubbing her leg. Her grip on him hadn’t lessened, though, so he didn’t let go of that.

Her eyes were still shut, but she said, “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Claudia, you didn’t scare me by having a panic attack.”

“But I did scare you?”

“No, you didn’t scare me at all, for any reason, I promise,” it baffled him that she thought that would’ve scared him. If anything, it made him admire her more now that she was comfortable enough to let him see this side of her. Granted, you don’t choose when a panic attack happens, but she could’ve left the room if she wanted to. He knew that.

“You can loosen your hand now,” she was careful not to say ‘let go,’ because she didn’t want him to let go.

He did, but his grip was still firm, tethering her to this moment, to him, to the bed they sat on.

“Do you want some water?”

“Please.”

There were complimentary waters in the room, but they weren’t cold, and he knew she would’ve preferred it to be ice cold freezing. She sensed that’s what he was thinking about when he hesitated to bring it over to her.

“Any water, please, Spencer.”

“Sorry,” he handed her the bottle and she chugged almost the whole thing in one go. She loved the way gulping felt in her throat. It made her feel full after feeling so empty, like all of the life had been sucked out of her.

They stayed silent for a moment while she finished the last of the water, until she finally took a breath and spoke up.

“Okay. Spencer,” she stood across from him and looked him in the eyes; her normal ‘business-as-usual’ self coming back like a charm, “I am going to shower. In that shower, I am going to wash my face. Washing my face means the makeup is going to come off. The makeup covering the worst of the gory details. Do you understand me?”

He nodded.

“When I get out, I would prefer it if you were wrapped up in something else. After the fiasco that just happened, my god, I do not want you to see…this,” she gestured to her entire neck and face, “please be preoccupied. I am begging you.”

He was hesitant to agree. He had a conflict going on inside of him. On one hand, he wanted to see what that bastard really did to her, what extent he went to. On the other…he didn’t want to see her torn apart and beaten with such scrutiny. He didn’t want to see any of it. He wanted to see all of it.

“Okay. I’ll just go to bed. If you need me, wake me up. I won’t mind.”

“Okay,” and with that, she went into the bathroom.

It was probably the best and the worst shower of her entire life. The best because the shower after a panic attack is always incredible and the worst because the shower after a panic attack is always like coming down after a high.

That is, literally, what it is, in a way. She had shattered in that bedroom and Spencer, dear as he was, picked up the pieces, but she had to mend herself.

The tears never fell, they usually don’t. She let the warmth (some might even say scalding hot heat) engulf her. She had to feel like she was in a sauna and a hot spring simultaneously to have the prime shower experience, panic attack notwithstanding, this was a daily need. She let it run over her face, clearing her mind of the headache she felt coming on. She breathed some more and she rubbed her face before finally scrubbing the awful events of that morning off of her. Normally, she showered quickly, but after that she needed to take her time with herself. Instead of quickly going through the motions, she made sure every strand of hair was coated in shampoo and every inch of her body was lathered in body wash and given the same love and care at the end as she gave herself at the beginning. She kept her eyes closed. She kept breathing. Trying to think about nothing. She had a passing thought of Roy and how he used to bathe her when she was little and how she’d come home extremely intoxicated at six in the morning on a day during her undergrad program and he washed her face for her. She remembered, she smiled, she let it go. She took a few more deep breaths and finally got out of the shower. She felt so good, so clean, so calm, so peaceful. And then she saw her face again.

It had gotten worse, as bruises usually do. The cuts were healing fine, thanks to the butterfly bandages, but the bruises. Her cheek and eye were swollen where he’d socked her twice with his ring. Oh well. There was nothing to be done about it besides wait. She took an anti-inflammatory for the swelling, her insomnia medication, brushed her teeth, and turned the light off before exiting the bathroom.

Her bed was closer to the bathroom, thank god. She turned down the covers to get into bed when she heard Spencer rustle and she froze.

He heard her stop moving, so he felt the need to reassure her, “I was just putting my book on the table, I’m not facing your direction.”

“Oh. Okay…” she continued getting into the bed, making sure to face away from him.

They both settled into bed. Him staring at the ceiling, her putting her headphones in (dangerous, she knew that, but even with her medication, she couldn’t sleep without noise), but before she started the music, she had one last thing to say.

“Spencer,” she whispered.

“Claudia.”

“Thank you.”

He didn’t need any clarification. In fact, he didn’t even need a thank you, he felt it was an honor and a privilege to help someone so steadfast and sure of themselves. She trusted him to see her like that. He felt like he should be thanking her, but instead, he settled for:

“You would’ve done the same for me.”

[jojo-schmo]

A Walk Down my Art Memory Lane!

Now that I’m thinking about my childhood Kirby art, I dug through my storage a bit and thought it’d be fun to share a few! Here are some of Baby Jojo’s drawings!

note: I was not active in any online Kirby art communities at the time and I never posted these anywhere so I made these drawings just for my own enjoyment hehehe.

These are probably among my earliest Kirby drawings. Most likely ~2008!! I must’ve been in fifth grade maybe…? The first picture is a very rare example of pre-2022 Dedede sightings in my art. Around 2010 I became embarrassed and frustrated about not being able to figure his shapes out. So I spent the next 12 years avoiding him at all costs and instead sticking to the safer things to draw, like nice round Bronto Burts or Waddle Dees. Who knew it would take me writing an entire comic about him in 2022 to finally learn to draw him in my style!! :P

The second picture speaks for itself lol. I was the girl who googled “maskless meta knight” back when we had no fancy 3D renderings of his face. Just edits of anime screenshots and fanart of him holding his mask/getting his mask stolen and looking at you with the biggest, pearliest, white eyes. JPEG artifacts littered these images like sprinkles on a cupcake. And I would giggle and squee with every one like the baby fangirl of Meta Knight I was. :3

This one was probably ~2009. Very ambitious piece for me at that age. I struggled with the perfect roundness of Kirby haha. I had just gotten these cool alphabet stencils and couldn’t wait to write “Kirby” everywhere with them. This was probably the complete catalogue of Kirby characters I had the ability to draw at that time. It’s funny to think about how Magolor wouldn’t exist for another two years when I drew this.

Hmm. Maybe I should redraw this one day as a fun honor for my younger self.

Triple Waddle Dees!! A rare but precious Sailor Dee sighting, and of course my sweet Bandana Dee. This was probably around 2011 after Return to Dreamland came out and I came to adore Bandee. :3

This is probably around 2012- some time after Mass Attack came out. I had this AU at the time where each of the 10 Kirbies from Mass Attack had their own personality trait from the original Kirby, and a permanent copy ability assigned to them. Hence the Spark Kirby having wings and a halo like in the game- where you get damaged and have to rescue the poor Angel Kirbies before you lose that life!

Also my Poppy Bro Jr OC that I don’t think I named at the time- but I redrew him recently and named him Allegro the Poppy Bro. I loved drawing his hair and his funny teeth :D

Finally, I redrew just a few of the characters from my old drawings tonight. Just doodling for fun, nothing serious. But it’s something my child self would be happy to know I could do.

Guess I’d better draw all the Dededes that Baby Jojo missed out on drawing!! Thank you to anyone who read to this point. I encourage anyone to draw things that would make their younger, baby self proud of you. ….even though I bet they already are proud of you. <3

Remember, as long as you keep drawing, you’ll improve at your pace! Just keep at it! You’ll notice that difference over the years!

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 2 thoughts

woohoo! we are back for another s2 moment! each night i do my duolingo and then have mulder and scully time <3

so we open on a boat which is already awful. boats are lowkey horrific. and something grabs a man working on the sewage and pulls him under. what the hell! worst case scenario on MANY fronts

then we see our good friend mulder who is listening to audio recordings. and boy was this a scene, because he had sunflower seeds everywhere, cartons of takeout scattered, a million empty cans and cups, and a page of little doodles. all while he sits in the dark.

i figured perhaps this was the squalor of the single man apartment, but no! someone opens a door and light pours in, and tells him he has to leave and someone else will take over his case. and that poor man gets forced into his disgusting space. truly the king of not giving a fuck. please try and give one fuck for me mulder

skinner moves him to a murder case in new jersey and he's all "but why did skinner want MEEEEE"

anyway he goes into the sewers, which are thankfully now free of eugene tooms due to the hard work of that one escalator... everybody say thank you escalator... and he finds a body and says send that back to the FBI

mulder busts into skinner's office to yell at him while he was IN A MEETING oh mulder!!! i get ur mad but have some decorum! he's like WHY are you wasting my time! well mulder if you want to work your way back up the ladder i think screaming at ur boss is not a good place to start!

(we also see that skinner's first name is walter and that he has a picture of bill clinton on the wall which i know made sense at the time but in 2024 it's just really funny. there's old willy looking over business)

cutscene to mulder Pondering in the dark and look! enter our dear friend scully!

"is this seat taken?" she asks "no, but i should warn you i'm experiencing violent impulses" he replies. "well, i'm armed, so i'll take my chances" she answered, and i audibly said "AWWW" <3 how sweet

he says he wants to leave the bureau! but she is his only reason to want to stay! gasp! we are gonna have to unpack that later!

she's like but you have a body right...? can i see the body....? can i pls pls pls pls be involved in ur case?

girl's night: autopsy edition! this body was quite decomposed and it had me wondering how exactly they film these scenes, and while i was pondering the process of making a prop body, we hear a loud thunk of scully removing the dude's rib cage to which i nearly fainted but we were Fine it's okay

and i'm holding my breath trying to deal with seeing this dude's insides when we get a WORM JUMPSCARE crawling about in his corpse

back in new jersey we see more sanitation workers and another man getting pummeled by the sewer beast... have we considered giving these men a raise?

the man has a nasty wound and i wrote "i am not built for this" in my notes but mulder strolls into the doctor's office while he's being checked out to investigate... we see the wound that the sanitation guy thinks is a snake that got into the sewers... and i'm thinking that doesn't sound right but i don't know enough about sewers to dispute that information

scully calls and he has to hang up and he gets ANOTHER call and picks up like "scully not now >:(" BUT THE GAG IS... it isn't her... it's some guy saying he has a friend in the FBI....... um

scully has mulder come down to the lab to show off the worm she found and give the audience a nice PSA to not eat raw meat! thank you dr. scully! we then get some worm facts and she seems pleased

BUT MULDER IS MEAN and he accuses her of being responsible for the phone call and she looks so hurt! she says she wouldn't betray his confidence by talking about him wanting to leave! mulder i get that you're in your questioning era but literally one episode ago she picked up your mostly dead body from a jungle compound so?? let's be rational here???

the next scene involved blood coming out of sanitation man's mouth and mostly what i wrote at this point was a few variations of "AUGH" "i cannot look" and "cannot handle this"

at the sanitation plant they capture whatever this Thing is and oh my. well. all i can really think of are those fake mermaids. you know the barnum fake mermaid hoax? or is that too 19th century niche? well either way, it looks like that but Worse. and equipped with suckers. it's a gnarly beast to gaze upon and i wrote more "AUGH"s here

cutscene to scully on a computer reading worm facts. back when you used a big ol computer to research creatures. i miss the 90's (disclaimer: i was not alive for them at all)

mulder lets her see the creature (which they have put in a mental hospital?) and she is SO excited to see this sort of beast BUT she figured out it was connected to the first attack because someone slipped a magazine article with a hint under her door!!!! looks like there really is someone on the inside...

she also says "i'd consider it more than a professional loss if you decided to leave" WAHHHHHHH <- me crying like a baby at this line

mulder's sitting in skinner's office like a kid stuck in detention and skinner says they're gonna prosecute the worm monkey baby thing and i nearly cried at the mental image of putting that beast on trial. skinner was like "you want to put it in the zoo?" I fear that's far more reasonable.....????? like how is he gonna testify he's WORM MONKEY BABY THING

mulder is again very pissed off and tells skinner that they could have saved the second man (who died in the shower while i was looking away from his bleeding) because he had agents who could have handled it but he shut the x files down and skinner is like. i know. but i was just following orders... tea....

okay so i THOUGHT the worm monkey was baby sized but now they're taking him somewhere else and he is full man sized... but he breaks out of his restraints, we hear a gunshot, and he escapes into a toilet... NO, i yelled to the sanitation worker on my screen, THE WORM IS INSIDE (he couldn't hear me)

mulder's at the scene and gets another mysterious phone call telling him he CANNOT mess this case up because there needs to be undeniable proof the x files must come back... okay no pressure!

so the worm monkey is somewhere in the sewer plant and scully calls like "i think the little worm we found was a baby and it's looking for a place to lay its eggs so we CANNOT let it escape"

(mulder and another worker go into the sewers without any sort of worm monkey handling equipment, idk i was thinking a shotgun might be appropriate here. like what did they think they were gonna do? wrestle it?)

the other worker falls in so NATURALLY our hero mulder (who is still a hero even if he has been cranky af lately) jumps in after him

and mulder GUILLOTINES the worm monkey in what can only be described as an average fox w 🔥🔥

at the end we see scully and mulder once again meet on a public bench in the dark, where she shares that the genetic testing proved that this thing was actually a mixture of human and worm that came from radioactive waste at chernobyl??? so. that's fucked up. haven't they suffered enough.

(but i like that this is a monster made possible by humans and yet still very real, even if that seems... an unlikely story... still, for dana scully's sake i'm happy this is something that can be proved by Science)

((although i hate to know what the implications are for the chernobyl dogs in this universe...))

we end with a shot of worm monkey baby, who has been split in half, re-opening its eyes. now i do think sea worms can sometimes grow back so this isn't SHOCKING. but it is displeasing nonetheless.

overall, listen; mulder, you've had it rough. they've slashed your life's work and you doubt reality. but man. clean your desk up. be nice to scully. skinner is clearly on ur side. i need to shake his stupidly tall frame and knock some sense into him. that beautiful woman wants to tell you worm facts and you should be writing it all down intently.

(good angst though, love that she's the only reason he wants to stay. and love her little autopsy time <3)

[peachyanime]

appears looking at you with autism creature eyes. hello @sangerie your vs bros fankids (one of which i had a hand in making bc. glances at the reblogs/notes in @loopyarts post. i have confessed there fskakfafsga) are really really neat .u.

SPEAKING of loopyarts ty for allowing me to take inspo for nijis kids raid suit fit!! i really liked the softer yellow and the thicker lightning bolts on his pants you gave him so tysm for letting me yoink it <3

uh uhh individual pieces and also design/character rants under the cut bc. i wanna.

RAID SUIT RAMBLING TIME bc i spent the most time on those. also you might be asking 'why is only their hair rendered in those pieces?' well the answer is because i am Lazy. moving on . (/HJHJ i AM lazy but also rendering it further would mess up the colors and i didn't wanna do that lmao. carrying on..)

Ichiji's daughter i am so SO proud of her fit. i did not look up a reference or even inspo ideas at all, that all came from the ole noggin baybeee. anyways she is obviously based off a magical girl(s) fit bc she wants and DESERVES to be. also since Reiju doesn't have any kids of her own (based wine aunt) i also decided to let Little Red have some of her motifs instead of just purely Ichiji's!! primarily the 66 on her pants but also all the pink on her instead of just red :) and obviously she has her dads number and while she DOES have a (white? bc like daddy shes a special little princess /aff) cape i didn't include it here bc it looked reallly bad lmao. but she does have one tucked into the bow probably!! there she is, Sparkling Red Neo!!! (get it.. sparkling instead of sparking... bc magical girl.... im funny i think.) onto Little Ocean Boy

OKAY LET ME TALK ABOUT THE MOST MINISCULE YET MOST IMPORTANT DETAIL TO ME AND ME ALONE FIRST. that being the symbol on the brats belt. it was actually inspired/based off of this post which really stuck with me with me after reading it which i later realized was bc the "that something has been completely reversed" REMINDED ME OF THIS POST OF YOURS. i don't think im especially good at theory crafting but. idk i think there could be Something about how after judge came and turned germa into mercenaries their symbol turned from what once symbolized 'purity' into the skull of war mongers and then BACK to purity after 0124 get germa on the right path... poetry or smthn. ANYWAYS yah shoe shiners got a pretty basic fit bc like i said in the og ask, hes a sora warrior of the sea fan, once he saw the raidsuits irl methinks he'd want to stay pretty close to the og design. HOWEVER he refuses to drop the hat (much to Niji's dismay) and i came up with a reason besides 'its one piece and therefore there's GOTTA be a kid with a weird hat that they're attached to': and that is the fact that it hides his eyebrows. Little Red has the curly brows, all of Yonji's cabbage patch does too, and the brats the only one without. even if literally no one else notices or cares, he wants to hide the fact that he doesn't have em because it Separates him. and he doesn't want that. at all. he really, Really wants to be a part of this family (oh no i made it. angsty). ANYWAYS UHH YAYYY HE HAS A TWO ON HIS HAT (that he sewed on himself which is why i made sure you can see the stitch-lines) BC NIJIS HIS DAD WAHOO YIPPEE :D:D:D Dengeki Blue Neo: little shoe shiner edition!!

UHH second image is just a refined piece of that first doodle i sent you. with lineart and a better color pallet and all. actually looking at it again now i realize i forgot little brats freckles and i am now punching the air bc its too late to fix. just act like they're there. please :,,,) edit: nvm its the next morning i fixed that kjahsdah

i don't even have much to say about the last two because i Think i am Rightgksfjgasjkfa but for the third i think the brats a bad influence on Little Red especially. ALSO FOR THE FOURTH NO I DIDNT FORGET ICHIJIS TATTOO. I AM JUST LAZY. (and I also forgot his tattoo :]) ANOTHER edit: i also. fixed this :]

CHRIST i am incapable of contacting you on Tumblr via any way that includes anything less than 250 words i am so sorry sangerie.. i hope you like these tho cause i really do tbh :3 (PS you have to take literally NONE of what I said here [mostly about shoe shiner] as like.. canon about them?? these are YOUR ocs obvi so please, change Little Red's raidsuit design if you find it unappealing!! make shoe shiner have a backstory of your own!!! i hope that isnt weird or rude to say, i just thought it was important too bc i threw sm at you so strongly ^^' okay thats all tysm for reading this it means to world to me byebye <3)

[basofy]

rambling time

.

.

ive encountered many points of view that imply that the player's feelings over the garth jack scene do not matter, but i can't distract my brain from the possibility that yes, it does

one of these that haunt me severely and i made a doodle reminiscent of this is, the fact that brad does not get to know of this happening. he only checks the mags after but we don't know his impression of them, he might've not thought much about them. this is between garth, jack, and the only other person watching (the player)

the fact that there isn't any mention of the events of this scene after this. this is what initially infuriated me, i didnt know if the intention was to make it matter to us or not, it felt like not. there's no more mention of it, no changes to the characters save for, maybe, your perception of them after this. but that's the thing, and maybe, leaving some stuff up to you is the way to make it connect with you, (this takes me back to there being so much about lisa that was either unexplained or not too developed, and how this served as a way for fans to connect with her more). rather than it being the game distancing from you it's putting this scene in your hands as in 'here, i trust you with this'. it's not going to tell you to care, it's trusting that you will

i keep thinking about how one of the motivating factors for the definitive edition were lisa and buddy, for austin realized the fandom was unsatisfied with how their characters were handled, and he himself admitted to not be proud either. so he knew how much these 2 girls and their circumstances mattered to lisa fans, and a big part of the new content went into humanizing them (better done wit lisa than buddy imo but anyway) part of it also went into expanding brad's character more as well. so i'm thinking, if with this scene austin decided to create another victim, it feels like he's handling us this scene and trusting us with it

that and his words about finding something worthwhile in all the tragedy. finding something worth pointing out, worth caring about in a very uncomfortable 3 minutes scene that's got no more mention of it after it happens.

if this doesnt end up being the case, and he wrote it very carelessly, well it ends up being hilarious that the scene turned out deep on accident. but i've talked about it with friends multiple times, and some of them have commented on the way it's written, it being 'carefully crafted' and after finding the other stuff in the games (stuff that's always been there) that ties perfectly to this interaction i can't get the thought out of my mind that this thang can't be just a joke, that the player is supposed to care at least a little

[timbit-robin-art]

aside from DC and marvel, from what I mostly seen on your page, what other show, comic, games, ect are you into?

Maybe it’s because it’s really late right now, but I find it funny that I open the app and caught someone in real time sending an ask. Imagine me reaching through the screen and grabbing at you. Gotcha.

So, while you can get a general sense of what other things I’m in to from my little Meet the Artist doodle (pinned post), the icons are a bit small so only eagle-eyed fans can spot their silly little interests. So I can get into it a bit.

I’ll get it out of the way that I generally like anime a lot. I have a love-hate relationship with a lot of it, like Naruto and Attack on Titan, but there’s some a fully love. Houseki no Kuni is one of my favorites. Though I’ve found the most rewatchable anime for me are the goofier ones, like Attack Junior High, Saiki K, Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan, Buddy Daddies, and (my most recent favorite) Monthly Girls Nozaki Kun. There’s a lot more that I like, it’s just we’d be here a while.

(Fun fact: my all-time favorite anime character is Hideyoshi Nagachika from Tokyo Ghoul.)

Then there’s the reoccurring Calvin and Hobbes that I’ve mentioned a couple of times here. It’s how I learned how to read.

I really like FNAF, but only 1 and 2. I also like drawing them in an 80s cartoon style, like the Garfield and Friends cartoon (another thing I like). While we’re talking about cartoons, I really like Looney Tunes, Animaniacs, Pink Panther, Scooby Doo (of all varieties), and a lot more.

Back on horror, many people don’t take me for the type, but I really like it. It ranges from Saw, Resident Evil, Faith: Unholy Trinity, The Walter Files, Marble Hornets, and much more.

I guess other things I find worth mentioning are Star Wars, Detroit: Become Human, Sonic, Psych, Voltron, Fire Emblem, rhythm games, and (arguably the most important) Ninjago. Edit: I just remembered another important one, and that’s Dino Squad. I’m also a big history fan, but I don’t know how you guys would feel about Lafayette fan art.

You will sometimes get a rare non-DC/Marvel drawing from me, but I try to space it out, as I know people see me as the DC/Marvel art blog. And I don’t say that as a bad thing, either. DC/Marvel is my number one hyperfixation, closely followed by Ninjago. I have been obsessed with these things since I was very young, and that means I’m also cursed with making art of them.

(But that won’t stop me from cursing you with my other interests every now and then, mwah ha ha.)

I hope this answers your question. Sorry if it might not be coherent. It’s very late, and I’m a yapper.

[sydneyofalltrades]

RTC headcanons: Ricky Edition!

Ricky loves reading science fiction. If it wasn’t obvious, he enjoys getting lost in a good book and finding his way out of it with the characters

Ricky is a maladaptive daydreamer, and would frequently zone out in class, especially when he already knew the concept, and he’ll always be daydreaming during choir practice, giving people the assumption that he’s not all there in terms of brains

Ricky is wicked intelligent. His parents wanted him to be book smart even if he couldn’t speak, so they fed his curiosity and desire to learn by helping him learn to read and if he isn’t reading, he’s probably being forced to do something by Ocean’s command

He knows both American Sign Language and his parents’ version of sign language. So he often jokes that he’s bilingual. Constance finds it hilarious, but Ocean just has that motherly “oh yes, that’s wonderful, dear” attitude

Ricky’s love language is drawing for people. He draws for Connie and she loves everything he gives her. He drew for Ocean like one time, but he does draw for Noel and Mischa, mainly for Mischa just cats in traditional Ukrainian outfits. Mischa has never thrown away a single picture

Ricky is paler than most people. It’s just his natural skin tone and it gives him a slightly sickly appearance, but he’s actually very healthy

He hates assumptions. People always, always, always assume he’s a tragic case or a disfigured person but he’s just a guy who loves cats and space. He never assumes much about anyone, just loves

Ricky and Penny became fast friends. Penny enjoys signing with Ricky, Ricky enjoyed having another person to talk to. He sat next to her when they were riding the Cyclone and felt oddly connected to the girl with a doll’s head

Ricky has two mobility aids, crutches and a wheelchair. The wheelchair is usually used for when he’s just around town and he uses it more than the crutches, which he only uses when he needs to be transported somewhere quickly

For the most part, how Ricky and Noel became friends was by random chance. Noel was sitting out the gym class in first grade because he didn’t want to be all sticky and sweaty, and Ricky, who couldn’t participate, was doodling. Ricky drew Noel and wrote a little note and Noel loved his art so much. They both watch horror/sci-fi movies on weekends

Ricky is non-binary and he uses he/they pronouns. He’s also pansexual and has had a crush on everyone in the choir at least once

Mischa actually opened up to Ricky first. He knew he couldn’t talk so he sent him a note saying “you’re the cat guy, right? I think your art is awesome :)” Ricky loved that note, he still has it tucked away in his sketchbook

As Ricky was dying, they felt less scared than the rest of them, yes, it was terrifying, but he felt like his time in Earth wouldn’t be that long anyway

Ricky still watches over Penny after she came back to life. In a way, she feels his presence and knows he’s there, even if she can barely remember who they were

[saiilorstars]

Ch. 17: In the 13th Year...

Fandom: Harry Potter (Hogwarts years 1-7) Pairing: Draco x OFC

taglist: @ocappreciationtag​ @arrthurpendragon​ @anotherunreadblog​ @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic

Story Masterlist // Romina’s Masterlist

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

A huge stack of letters was threatening to fall from Romina's desk. Most were open and, since several of her friends had the idea to send Romina gifts for her 13th birthday last month, the floor was covered with different wizarding gifts (except for Harry's, Hermione's and Arden's, of course). Carolinha Paes had gifted Romina a wonderful box of creamy nougat chunks. Angel had sent in a leather-bound green journal with enchanted doodles on the edges. Pansy Parkinson sent in a fashionable scarf and Daphne Greengrass had sent in a beautiful heart-shaped charm bracelet. The Weasley twins sent one of their crazy fireworks that they swore would "start the party in the muggle world". Hermione thought that a Sherlock book was a good idea, and Arden and Harry had teamed up to give Romina a Supergirl comic she'd been eyeing just after they returned from Hogwarts. All in all, they were wonderful presents...if Romina had been herself.

The thirteen year old girl washed her face in her bathroom, scrubbing hard at the birthmark near her left earlobe and was deeply disappointed (and frustrated) that it wouldn't come off. She knew of course that it would never work, but it didn't mean she wouldn't try. She dropped the towel from her face and took a good look at herself, once more disappointed with what she saw. She was a bit taller now, and her black hair was seemingly, finally, turning into defined curls. Her dark brown eyes were still big and her eyebrows more defined.

"No," Romina spat at herself and turned away. "No, no, no, no!" she stormed out of the bathroom and went straight into her room.

A knock interrupted her moment and she quickly went to her bed, practically diving into it. Her hands pushed a wrinkled picture under her pillow, and for security measures, she put a Velvet heart-shaped pillow over it. Then she quickly went to open up.

"Auntie, I already told you I'm not hungry—"

"I'm not your aunt!" Arden King exclaimed, playfully offended.

Romina turned away from her best friend. "Arden, I don't want to go out. I told you that already."

"Yeah, I know," Arden walked in after Romina, "And that's what you told me yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that...and all last week…" And the week before that. It was a growing theme and Arden was getting tired of it.

Romina stopped by the vanity mirror and stared at herself with such contempt it looked like she despised herself. Arden didn't notice because of the mess in the room.

"Jeez, Romina, what's happening to you?" Arden walked by Romina's closet which looked like it had thrown up most of its contents. "You're almost as messy as Fabian!"

"I need different things," Romina said curtly. She grabbed strands of her hair and poked at them.

Arden left the closet and noticed the amount of letters on the desk. "What's all this?"

"Letters, obviously," Romina shrugged and went back to her bed. Her hands kept pulling at the tips of her hair. She needed to come up with an idea about what to do with it.

Arden shuffled through the letters and noticed some of them were still unopened. "Hey, this one's from Pansy," she crinkled her nose. "The hell does she write to you for?" She tossed the letter to the floor and continued going through the rest. "These are from Angel. Boy, he definitely writes to you a lot." There was a decent pile of just his letters. She raised another letter with neatly written cursive inside. "Hermione's in France? That's so cool."

"Arden, was there something you needed?" Romina scratched her head. She didn't want to be rude but she also didn't want to speak to anyone right now.

"Yeah," Arden whirled around with a new letter in hand, "We're supposed to go buy a present for Harry, remember? His birthday's tomorrow."

Romina sighed. "No offence but I don't really want to go out."

"That's funny, I don't remember asking," Arden cooly retorted and walked to the side of the bed where Romina sat. "I asked your aunt and uncle already and they thought it was a good idea for you to go out before you nest in here. Let's go!"

"Arden, I don't want to," Romina weakly said but Arden wouldn't listen. She practically dragged Romina out of the room, down the stairs, and shouted 'we're leaving!' to Lyonel and Sage.

~0~

When Arden's family had separated from the girls in the mall, Arden dragged Romina into the first store they saw which turned out to be a music store. As Romina got sidetracked by the miniature jukeboxes on a wooden shelf, Arden stared at a violin.

"Does Harry like anything music related? I can't remember."

"I don't know," Romina shrugged her shoulders. "He's never mentioned it."

"Probably cos that aunt and uncle don't even bother to let him explore his musical talents," Arden dramatically waved a hand.

"Harry likes reading, what are we doing here?" Romina turned away from the jukeboxes.

Arden cheekily pointed at the violin on display. "Check it out, I'm asking my parents for this for Christmas. Mine's getting old. This one is almost the same as the one your aunt and uncle gave you for your birthday. It's a shame you quit violin classes though. Why'd you do that, again?"

Romina gave a shrug of her shoulders. "I didn't have the energy anymore."

But that wasn't true, and Arden knew it. If there was one thing Romina Oswell loved, it was playing the violin. There was something odd going on with Romina that had both Arden and Harry a little concerned. All of a sudden, Romina had gone from her lively, sarcastic self to a quiet, barely seen girl. It was a miracle she was out right now and Arden suspected it was only because this was about Harry, her closest friend, otherwise Romina would be locked away in her bedroom like she had been all month.

It was early in the evening when Romina, Arden and her family returned to the neighborhood. Romina politely thanked Mr. and Mrs. King for taking her along and then swiftly moved to her own house.

"Rom, hold on!" Arden skipped over her mother's petunias to catch up. "Do you want me to wrap Harry's present? I don't mean to brag but I have some mean wrapping skills—"

"Yeah, that's fine," Romina quietly said, cutting off Arden's smile.

"Well...do you want me to come by tomorrow for—"

"I have to go, Arden," Romina gave a bleak smile and rushed into her house.

Arden shook her head and returned to her family.

Romina skipped dinner and went straight to her room. She nearly tripped over the letter Arden had left near the bed and bent over to pick it up. It was Hermione's latest letter that arrived in the morning. With a sigh, Romina climbed onto her bed and opened up the parchment.

'Dear Romina,

I'm on holiday in France at the moment and I didn't know how I was going to send this to you — what if they'd opened it at customs? — but then Hedwig turned up! Harry sent her to me yesterday and I think he wants me to ask you how you're doing? Both he and Arden have mentioned you've been in your bedroom for most of this month now. I think if Ron wasn't so enthralled with his visit to Egypt, he would have noticed your lack of letters by now. What's happening, Romina? Is there something you want to share with me? You know I would never tell a soul unless you wanted me to.

Or, if you'd rather talk it out in person, we could do it in London on the last week of the holidays. Ron (and hopefully Harry) will be there too. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!

Love from Hermione x

P.S. Did you hear that Percy's Head Boy this year? I'll bet Percy's really pleased. Ron doesn't seem too happy about it.

Romina closed the letter and put it beside her. She rubbed her face with exceptional frustration. What was she going to do? She couldn't look like them and not expect to be called out on it. She needed to figure out a solution before the school year started again.

~ 0 ~

The next day, Harry woke up a bit groggy from his tedious night practicing his new favorite spell "Lumos Maxima" all night. Despite it being his birthday, no one in the Dursley home paid any acknowledgement to it. Harry wasn't surprised and no longer dwelled on it. He had already received many things from his friends that night anyways. Those were the people he cared about. As he entered the kitchen, he saw his cousin Dudley was already eating and watching the television. His uncle Vernon was discussing the matters of Aunt Marge's visit with his aunt Petunia. Harry shivered within and grabbed a piece of toast from the table, not that Dudley saw. He was engrossed with a news reporter apparently.

"Now before I go get Marge from the train station, we need to get a few things straight," Vernon stopped in front of Harry. Harry dreaded the requirements he would be subjected into no matter what.

The old hag of Marge hated him and he hated her.

"First, you'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge. Secondly, as Marge doesn't know anything about your abnormality, I don't want any — any funny stuff while she's here. You behave yourself, got me?"

"I will if she does," Harry muttered under his breath.

Vernon glowered at the boy but kept going. "And third, we've told Marge you attend St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys—"

"WHAT!?" Harry nearly lost it. He had no idea what the hell his uncle and aunt had been telling the rest of the neighborhood where Harry was attending school. He knew it wasn't like Romina's and Arden's family - the two families got together to say the girls went to a London preparatory boarding school.

Just as Vernon was getting ready to leave, someone knocked on the door. Muttering under his breath how it better not be the newspaper boy again, Vernon opened the door. Arden was on the other side, a cheery smile on her face.

"Whatever you're selling, we're not buying," Vernon went to shut the door despite needing to go out.

Luckily, Arden was quick enough to stick a foot between the door and its hinge. "I'm Arden, your neighbor. I'm here to see Harry."

"What?" Vernon glowered at the girl, probably trying to remember the identity of her.

Arden rolled her eyes and spoke again. "Can I just see Harry now? I won't be long."

"Make it quick, he's got work to do," Vernon warned and stepped out to head to his car.

"Harry?" Arden called from the threshold. She had plenty of experience dealing with the Dursleys and how awful they were. After all, they grew up together on the same block. Before Hogwarts, it was her, Harry and Romina.

Harry came into the foyer a minute later, surprised by her visit but nonetheless grateful. He was desparate for contact with nice people. "Hey Arden, what's going on?"

"Happy birthday, Harry," Arden held out a nicely wrapped blue present she'd been keeping behind her back. She knew that the Dursleys tended to keep anything good away from Harry so she got exceptional at hiding gifts from them. "It's from Romina and me. Hope you like it."

Harry smiled and gave her the proper thanks before he opened it up. It turned out to be a book by the name of The Shadow Rising. "Wow! Thanks!"

"I know it's not wizarding stuff but, you know…" Arden meekly shrugged, but Harry was happy with what he got. "Apparently, this was published last year in September and it's gotten pretty popular. There's rumors about a sequel coming. Something to catch up on."

"Right, okay," nodded Harry. Ever since they started Hogwarts, he, Romina and Arden tried to catch up with the Muggle world and their news when they were home for the summer. While Harry didn't really talk to many people down the block, Romina and Arden did and it sounded very weird to their muggle friends when they had no idea who the latest pop sensation was or the best series of the moment.

"The guy behind the counter swore that it was popular," Arden said, while Harry examined the cover.

"Thanks, Arden!" He gave her a hug then looked past Arden. "Hey, is Rom here?"

Arden shook her head, and Harry slowly stopped smiling. His eyes flickered to the right where he could see a glimpse of Romina's house. For the past weeks, Romina had ceased to come out of her house and much less to talk with him and just about anyone else. It came out of nowhere.

"I'm worried," Arden admitted. "She doesn't seem like herself. She isn't herself. You should see her room. It's covered with unopened letters and her closet looks like it puked all of her clothes out. And she keeps pulling her hair — is that like some anxiety thing she picked up on?"

"I have no idea," Harry said. "And there's not much we can do right now. We'll have to wait till we're in school to really talk to her." There was no way the Dursleys were letting him out of their sight while Mag was around. And besides, Romina wasn't letting them come in anyways.

"Yeah, then she'll have no choice but to talk to one of us," Arden smirked, making Harry chuckle. Arden had a thing with words - what she felt she said no matter how blunt they were.

It was something he liked about her from the start.

~ 0 ~

Back at Romina's house, her aunt and uncle had called her downstairs, with no exception. Romina came trudging down the staircase, hearing the living room television going on and on about some new escapee from prison. She found her aunt and uncle in the kitchen with a Hogwarts letter.

"Look what just arrived?" Lyonel waved it in his hand. Romina remained blank.

"We were thinking about Diagon Alley next week?" Sage asked. Neither of them had a clue of Ron's and Hermione's plan to meet up much later.

"Sure," Romina shrugged and turned to leave when her uncle called her back.

"We need to talk—"

"No, we don't," Romina wearily responded.

"Yes, we do," Lyonel assured, quite serious now. "This concerns our family and sooner or later you're going to hear about it in school."

"Why?" Romina's stomach churned. If it had to do with their family then it meant nothing good.

Lyonel sighed and got up, taking Romina back to the living room where the news was still broadcasting. "You see that man there?" Lyonel pointed at the television where a snippet of a criminal's picture was being displayed for the public. He looked positively mad, dirty and...mad.

"Yeah, he's been all over the television for the past week now," Romina once again shrugged her shoulders. "Sirius Black, wasn't it?"

"Well, there's something you should know…" Lyonel exchanged an unsure glance with his wife who was slowly approaching them. "Sirius Black is a wizard who escaped from Azkaban."

"What?" Romina gaped and quickly saw the television again in a new light. "But he's...but he's right there! He's a muggle! He's—"

"I'm sure the Minister of Magic has informed the muggle Prime Minister about it since Black is one of the worst criminals ever."

"What did he do?" Romina quietly asked, dreading the answer.

"Well…" Sage began, "...it was rumored that he was a double spy for you-know-who and that...well, in the end...he worked with your parents."

"My brother," Lyonel said grimly.

Romina closed her eyes and waved a hand for them to stop, begging them actually. "No, I don't want to listen anymore. I can't!"

"You need to know this before you go back to school. We don't want your first year to repeat itself," Lyonel reached for her but Romina stepped away.

"But that's just it, isn't it? It's never going to stop! I am their daughter and I can't do anything about it and it sucks! I hate it! I hate this family so much you don't even understand," Romina gritted her teeth. Both her aunt and uncle were startled with the ferocity in their niece's eyes, the tight fists clenched on either side of her. "I wish I could change my name, my last name at least. Have a fair chance, you know? Do we have any other family?" She looked at Sage and Lyonel desperately. "Anybody?"

The adults exchanged glances with each other and ultimately told Romina that it was just them.

Romina rubbed the tears from her face. "I fucking hate this family," she muttered and rushed towards the stairs.

When they heard the door of her bedroom slamming shut, Sage heaved a sigh. "I don't know, Lyonel, she's starting to ask...maybe we should tell her."

Lyonel shook his head. "No," he said sternly, "She's 13 now. She's been at Hogwarts for 2 years now and they never even tried to contact her."

"You told them not to," Sage said quietly, her eyes flickering up at the stairs. "Right in the beginning, you told them not to."

"What did you expect?" Lyonel shrugged. "My brother committed the worst atrocities and Elora was no better. I know my family and what they did, I wasn't going to risk Elora's family turning out to be the same."

"You and I both know that Elora's family is nothing like that. Last time I heard, they were doing just fine. Besides, history has reveled them as war heroes. I don't blame you for wanting to give Romina a clean slate, but it looks like right now she might need a different perspective on the world — on herself and her lineage. Maybe, it's time we told her the truth."

Lyonel insisted the opposite. "We've been fine this whole, and it'll be fine. Romina's 13, brand new teenager. This is just one of those mood swings we read about in the books."

Sage sincerely thought that it was something beyond that.

[katherineholmes]

2, 3, 5, 6, 9, 18, 19!

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

Well, I don't see Elijah ever agreeing to bottom. He has those soft dom vibes going on, the casual condescension, the mocking, just general Elijah fuckery as Feral said recently. He has control issues, not as bad as Klaus, but he wants to control every piece on the board, he wants to be the one to solve the problems, he was put into the role of protector/caretaker a long time ago, and he both wants and needs it. So I can't see him bottoming, the only time it might happen is if Elena is topping from the bottom (which is pretty much how their dynamic is anyway.)

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

I've already answered that here.

5. worst discord server and why

Uhhh, there was a dark fic server that I was a part of for a while, where the mod just went crazy. He wouldn't enable emoticons or sending media in channels and we had to ask him every single time. And then he got into a fight with another member on the server, and started mocking anyone who tried to explain her point in the argument.

It was weird, when I pointed out that his behaviour was childish and unacceptable, he said 'lol', so I left, and we all made our own server.

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

Nian - I still see edits of those two, and how they should be together. It was so toxic when s6 of TVD was filming and airing, honestly just terrible. A makeup artist came forward and said Nina was pushed into a corner by Ian, death threats were sent to Nikki Reed, YT edits were made, an entire section of fans wished Ian would leave Nikki to be with Nina. All three of them were pitted against each other in every permutation and combination, it got so bad that Ian Somerhalder has openly discussed his dislike for the section of fans who harassed his wife to that extent, and I don't blame him.

9. worst part of canon

I've already mentioned the sire bond in a different ask, so it's going to be the Travellers because wtf was that. Even now, I don't understand what their motive was. I mean what is it with the TVD writers and their inability to write romance? Want Delena together - sire bond, want Stelena together - mystical doppelgänger soulmates.

I'm also not a fan of the fact that they made Stefan a doppelgänger, they had extremely compelling doppelgängers in the form of Katherine and Elena and yet, instead of showing them bond or work together we get them fighting over a guy, I mean, why? Just why?

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

Tyler/Jeremy - Those two had chemistry, they hated each other, they fought each other, but Jeremy is extremely sympathetic towards Tyler when he learns that his dad is abusive. I will die on this hill, but Jeremy should've been the one to help Tyler through his werewolf transition.

It should've been Jeremy doodling nonsense to keep Tyler's spirits up, it should've been Jeremy in the cellar, helping Tyler during the first full moon, it should've been Tyler getting Damon to back off from Jeremy, it should've been Jeremy, Tyler and Elena bonding on movie nights. The chemistry between Tyler and Jeremy is fire, they are tortured artists, grieving, their lives upended by the supernatural even though they aren't directly related to it. I need more Tyler and Jeremy (and I'm going to write it into one of my fics too).

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

Lucien Castle. I was always a bit indifferent towards him, until he killed my girl Cami, then I hated him. But even on rewatch, knowing what he's done, I'm still a bit intrigued about him. I've recently been analysing his character a bit for a fic, and I can't help but like him. He's a little like Klaus, but he's so compelling just as he is, which is a shame, because all he wants to be is like Klaus.

I still believe he had a lot of potential, even more than what they had showed. He's the true beginning of the downfall of the Mikaelsons, and he's creepy af, not to mention what he did to Cami. But truly, he works for hundreds of years just to take the Mikaelsons down, and actually succeeds, even Klaus is running scared of him. Even if he died, the damage was done.

[ghafai]

heaven in hiding by halsey

[augustinewrites]

dad!akaashi as inspired by @sunkeiji 💕

“daddy!”

akaashi’s barely stepped out of his office when he spots his daughter barreling towards him.

“hi, lovely,” he smiles, leaning down to rub her back as she clings to his legs. “did you have fun at school today?”

her little chin bumps his thigh as she nods enthusiastically. the braid he’d woven her hair into this morning is in shambles, her white socks scuffed with dirt. indicators of a great day, he supposes.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize a little sheepishly, your son still clinging to your hand. “i just got a call that they moved my interview up so i didn’t have time to drive to kuroo’s to drop them off—”

“hey, it’s not a big deal,” he shrugs, hauling your daughter up into his arms and walking over to you, pulling you in to press a kiss to your head. “it’s pretty much the end of the day, only a few hours at the most. do you need anything before you head out?”

“i just need to grab a few things,” you nod, crouching down to nudge your son towards his father. “go see daddy,” you murmur, handing akaashi the diaper bag before heading into your office.

the two year old waddles over until he’s cuddling into akaashi’s pant leg, babbling a greeting.

“hey, bud,” he murmurs, reaching down to pat his son’s little head, chuckling when he looks up at him with sleepy blue eyes. “long day at daycare, huh? you look like you’re going to need a nap soon.”

you look a little less frazzled when you come back out, and the three of them send you on your way with a few cheers of ‘good luck!’ before you blow them a few kisses and head out.

—

akaashi herds the kids into his office, letting his daughter wiggle out of his arms to jump into his chair, giggling as she spins around. she’s always loved his chair, claiming it’s smooth, plush, and apparently smells like him.

his son, on the other hand, pouts a little and makes grabby hands. so akaashi scoops him up, rubbing soothing circles over his back as he nudges his face into his shoulder. he presses his finger to his lips as his daughter giggles at her sleepy brother, swinging her legs back and forth.

“daddy, can i colour?” she whispers, and akaashi nods, shifting his boy into one arm as he heads over to the printer, pulling out a few fresh sheets, pushing aside manuscripts and loose notes. he opens up his topmost desk drawer, pulling out the little butterfly-dotted pencil case stuffed to the brim with crayons and setting it on the desk.

she thanks him with a huge smile, humming quietly as she begins to doodle happily.

effectively kicked out of his own desk, akaashi carefully lays his son down on his office couch, fishing his favourite blanket out of the diaper bag and laying it over him. he grabs his laptop off the desk, settling down on the floor, back pressed to the couch in case his son rolls over the edge.

of course, he gets about ten minutes into editing when there’s a soft knock on his door.

his assistant pokes her head in, a plate of cookies from the break room in her hands.

akaashi sighs a little, waving her in. by now, word’s spread about his kids being here, and everyone loves the akaashi’s. how could they not? he’s got the sweetest and most well-behaved kids in the office.

his daughter perks up as his assistant sets the plate of cookies down on the desk, looking to him for approval, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

how could he say no to a face like that?

“only one,” he says, and seeing her little face light up is his treat. “two, if you don’t tell mama.”

she nods excitedly, stifling her giggle behind her hand as she takes two cookies with the other. sure, her munching is getting crumbs in his keyboard, but he can’t find it in himself to care when it comes to her.

his assistant leaves one on a napkin for his son before heading back out, closing the door softly behind her,

“look, daddy!” his girl cheers quietly, holding up a doodle of her favourite hero from a shounen akaashi was actually in the process of editing another chapter for. the pink one, whose name he can’t quite recall at the moment.

she launches into the story behind her drawing, talking so animatedly that a few of his other co-workers stop by to listen. at her age, she’s such a vivid storyteller, something he likes to take credit for (he had been the one to read hemingway to her while she was in the womb).

“keep that awesome drawing up,” one of his coworkers starts, ruffling her hair a little. “and maybe one day you’ll get to work with your dad.”

“really?” she gasps, beaming widely at him. “i’d get to come to your office everyday?”

“maybe you’ll even have your own office one day and i’ll visit you,” he suggests, placing a hand on his son’s back when he stirs a little. “that’d be exciting, wouldn’t it?”

“yeah!” she cheers, her brother waking up and mumbling a tired, “yeah!” behind his pacifier.

-

“any reason why our daughter’s now talking about going to work with you instead of school tomorrow?” you ask after you’ve tucked the kids in, arms crossed over your chest.

akaashi sets the last dish away before turning to you and grabbing the dish towel to dry his hands. “she wants to be a manga artist.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he nods, recalling this afternoon’s conversation. “hey, how’d the interview go? you never told me.”

you cover your mouth briefly, but akaashi can see the excitement in your eyes - they’re identical to his daughter’s, after all. “i got the job!”

“ah, i knew you would,” he grins, pulling you in for a hug, pride flooding his chest. “editor in chief, wow. i guess that means you’re my boss now.”

“it’s…longer hours,” you hum into his chest. “you’ll probably have to pick the kid’s up after school and bring them to—”

“hey, don’t worry about it,” he shushes you, thinking of the two sleeping kiddos upstairs. “we’re gonna be alright.”

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction ||You’re A Kids Illustrator/Writer [Request]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - June 2022

⤜MASTERLIST

A/N: I hope this is okay for you my love!! @the-wretched-and-joyful​

SEOKJIN:

Whenever you had a signing and Jin was away he tried to send surprises to you at every event. It was always flowers or gifts from him with a card telling you how sorry he was for not being able to make it. Your schedules always seemed to clash with one another, while he was working so were you but it also meant that when neither of you was working you could spend time together.

"Who shall I write this to?" You questioned, looking at the little girl in front of you as she began to tell you her name, you wrote her a message and assigned a little doodle beside it. 

"Have a great day, sweetie." You told her with a giant smile before she hugged you and ran away to her mum. You smiled warmly before turning to look at the next person who was standing in front of you but all you saw were a giant bouquet of flowers.

"Let me guess...from Jin?" You giggled standing up and going to reach for the card when the flowers were moved to the table and you saw your boyfriend standing in front of you.

"Jin?!" You squealed, wrapping your arms around him from across the table and whining a little.

"Surprise," He whispered as he pressed his lips against your shoulder, by now the tears were streaming down your cheeks as you kept yourself pressed against him firmly. It must have seemed weird to others but you didn't care. All you'd ever wanted was for Jin to join you at a signing and now it was finally happening. 

"Thank you," You whispered as he pulled back and slowly began to make his way behind the table so that he could sit with you.

YOONGI:

One of Yoongi's favourite things about your job was that it didn't matter where the two of you went together, there were always going to be little kids that came up to speak to you. Their parents apologising profusely as you promised them that it wasn't that big of a deal, 

"Which is your favourite?" You asked a little boy as you signed one of the books for his mum, he smiled up at you before pointing at the one in front of you. 

"He gets me to read it to him at least three times a day," His mother blushed as you smiled and slid the book back to her, 

"Do you wanna know a secret?" You asked the little boy as he began nodding his head, Yoongi let out a small chuckle as you leaned in close to him.

"I'm working on another one just like this," You told him as he began jumping up and down excitedly. Yoongi loved seeing the way you were with kids, it honestly made him more excited for your future together. He couldn't wait to see what you would be like when the two of you eventually had your own kids together. 

"You okay?" You smiled looking back over to your boyfriend who was blushing a little at the tiny interaction you'd had with the small human, 

"Perfect, you're perfect." He smiled before lifting your hand to his lips and kissing it softly, making your whole body heat up.

HOSEOK:

"I'm telling you, that the character is you." That was all you heard Taehyung say as you walked into the dorm's living room. All of the boys were gathered around the coffee table looking down at your latest release,

"It's a kid's book, it could be anyone." Hoseok gushed as he tried not to blush too much at the thought of you characterising one of your book characters after him.

"You look alike! You even have the same personality trait and his superpower is being able to brighten someone's day...If that's not you, I don't know what is," Yoongi said as he popped some popcorn into his mouth, you laughed a little sitting down beside your husband and looking at the illustration you had done for your book. They were looking at the first edition, you'd brought it for everyone to see since they were always excited to see your work.

"It is you," You told Hoseok as you nudged him softly, 

"I had to have you in the books," You smiled as you flipped toward the back of the book and showed him that his name was in the back where the acknowledgements went thanking him for being a creative inspiration. 

"Whoa," Hoseok whispered as you let a small giggle go and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his smile brightening even more as he continued to look through the book to spot if there was anything else like him about the character.

NAMJOON:

It was just like Namjoon to have every single copy of the books you'd written over the years and there were a lot. Almost forty-five of them to be exact, all written and illustrated by you.

"What's that in the back?" Namjoon asked as you looked up to your phone, you were in your home studio watching Namjoon doing a V-Live for ARMY. 

"They're my favourite books," He said as he started to get up and walk over to the shelf, your heart thumping rapidly as you saw him pick out around ten different books and came back to the camera. You knew them as soon as you saw them in his hands, each of them were his all-time favourite books that you'd written.

"You all know about the author," He told them as he began to go through each of the books, telling them why it was his favourite out of all of the books that you had written.

"I'm trying to convince Yn, that they need to write about us one day in their books." He said with a smile since he knew you were already watching. It was the one thing he'd always been suggesting to you whenever you struggled for ideas, 

"It would be cute, I'm glad everyone agrees!" He chuckled before continuing to show off the books as well as reading extracts to everyone during the Live.

JIMIN:

"What are you doing?" You laughed as you watched Jimin standing by the door to your home studio, he only ever did this when he wanted to get a look at your work. You'd been together for four years now and he was always so excited and proud whenever you told him you were going to be working on something.

"Nothing." He said a little too quickly for it to be "nothing" like he said.

"Yeah, sure." You laughed opening the door and standing aside so he could walk inside. You knew what he wanted to do. It was all he ever wanted to do when he knew that you were working on something new.

"You know I love coming in here," He whined a little as he walked over to your desk where you were working on a few different drawings for the newest book that was being released.

"Are these the final sketches?" He questioned looking down at everything, he didn't touch a single thing not wanting to mess anything up for you.

"Yeah, I'm just stuck on deciding to make him have green or blue hair," You admitted as you carefully set down the mug of tea on the countertop and showed Jimin the different versions of the characters you were working on. It didn't matter if it was a simple hair colour or show preference Jimin always wanted to help out in any way that he could...If it also meant he got to take a quick look at the story. 

"Blue," He told you as you took a note of him and smiled at him, his eyes staring around at everything inside of the room.

"Have I ever told you how proud I am of you?"

"Almost every day," You felt your body heating up as he wrapped an arm around you, kissing your cheek softly. 

"Unbelievably proud." He whispered softly. 

TAEHYUNG:

It didn't matter if it was a small meeting or a signing Taehyung went with you to every event that was being held for you or with you. He was always gushing to anyone that he could find about how proud he was of you or even telling them to check out your books.

"Tae," You whined as he just gave a copy of one of your books to some elderly couple and their granddaughter who had been walking by you in a coffee shop,

"What? I was just being nice," He chuckled as you shook your head at him. You didn't know what was more surprising, that he had just given a copy of a book to a random family or that he was carrying more than one copy of your books on him.

"Why do you even have all of those?" You questioned as you leaned over the table to take a quick look inside his bag,

"In case we see a fan and they want one of your books, or...Or in case we're walking by a book store and someone notices you and wants a special reading," You shook your head at him, all of them insane reasons but it was one of the things you loved about him. He was always willing to do things like this to help get your books into the market and more well known in the media. But to you it didn't matter how many sales you got or if a lot of people knew your name, you were just happy bringing joy to those who did read and enjoy your books.

JUNGKOOK: 

"Kookie!" You practically screamed as you saw the clingfilm around his thigh, your eyes widening as you finally got a glimpse of the tattoo. That morning he told you he was going out to get another tattoo and you figured it would be something cool but this was insane.

"Do you like it?" He asked as he carefully removed the clingfilm to give you a better look at what was tattooed on his thigh. It was there in black ink, one of the characters from the first kid's book you'd ever drawn. 

"Jungkook, this is single-handedly one of the most romantic and yet insane things you have ever done," You gasped out as you carefully ran the tips of your fingers across the fresh ink making him smirk proudly at you. It was the character he loved the most in your books and he always told you he was going to get a tattoo of some of your work. You just never had believed him until now.

"But do you like it?" He was beginning to get a little nervous as he watched you,

"I love it." You laughed shaking your head as you stood up on your tip toes to kiss him softly on the lips, whining a little as he kissed you back and pulled you closer.

"I'm never going to get over it," You told him as your eyes went back down to the ink and gasping a little, it was incredible but Jungkook wanted to show you and the world how much he loved you and your work.

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @rjsmochii​ @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @agustdjoon​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @taeechwitaa​ @justbangtanthingz​ @stillwithlix​ @kookiekuu​ @lolalee24​ @hopeworldd-2​ @totallynoanalien​ @yubinism​ @ethereallino​ @heyjiminnie​ @aerastus​ @tinyoonsblog​ @cherrybubblesandvodka​ @kimahnjung98​ @halesandy​ @snigdha-14​

[edith-hyde]

Norman Osborn X Female Reader

I Forgot My Umbrella - Part 8

Word Count: 2857

Summary: When you come down sick, Norman can't help but worry over you. Since you live alone, who will take care of you?

Warnings: Age gap. Mentions of Vomiting. WHOLESOME FLUFF XD

A/N: A purely self-indulgent chapter. Seriously, this wasn't the original Part 8, but I came down sick a few days ago and decided to write this one instead. Now this is one of my favorite parts. And to get you hyped for Part 9- it's a DOOZY.

Archive

Previous

Next

-----

Another week came and went.

Norman found himself spending his work days watching you closely. He couldn’t help it- you were starting to fascinate him. In his mind, no one could be more interesting than you. You had clearly shown an interest in being friends with him and that made him curious. Just what kind of person were you? So he started to notice every little thing about you. The things you did when you thought no one was looking.

You doodled Spider-Man, monsters, and random eyes on post-it notes and stuck them to your computer. You liked to chew on your pen when you were editing his schedule. You occasionally tapped your desk to the beat of a song only you could hear. You liked a lot of sugar and creamer in your coffee and you always somehow managed to spill some of it. On more than one occasion, when there was nothing to do and you weren’t doodling, he found you absently spinning in your chair.

You also smiled a lot and it was starting to make him smile more as well. Your happiness was infectious. It made him want to sit on your desk and talk to you about anything. Heck, it could just be a conversation about the weather and he’d be happy.

So that’s what he did every chance he got.

The corner of your desk became like a new home for him whenever he had free time. At first he tried to keep the conversations relevant to work. He’d ask you about future meetings or what you thought about some of the ongoing projects. But eventually he’d start asking you more personal questions. He’d ask about your recent drawings or your plans for the afternoon. And you would happily tell him. His short little convos with you were starting to become his favorite part of the day.

It was right after the weekend that Norman realized that he craved your attention a lot more than he thought.

He was sitting in his office, patiently waiting for you to arrive with his morning cup of coffee. Glancing at the clock, he noticed that you were a few minutes late. He fought the urge to worry and tried to think of a reason for your tardiness. He finally settled on blaming the donut shop. He had given you a charge card in his name last week so you could buy donuts for the office every morning instead of spending your own money. So it made perfect sense that you were busy with that.

But as Norman watched the seconds tick by on his watch, his worry mutated into full on concern. You had never been late. Since the day you started working you had either been early or right on time. Fear started to crawl up his spine. It felt like he had ice in his veins.

What was taking you so long?

Were you alright?

“Look at you. Anxious. Over a little girl. PATHETIC!”

Norman shivered and gripped his head in his hands. It had been over a week since he had heard the voice. Why is it coming back now?!

“I was never gone, Norman. You’re not FIXED.”

“No… no!” Norman groaned, “Leave me alone! I’m cured! You’re… You’re not here!”

“There is no cure for madness, Norman. Face it. I’ll always be here. And soon, when you’re ready, you’ll let me have my way with that girl-”

The phone began ringing and Norman jumped. He scrambled for it as the echoing sound of the Goblin’s laughter filled his head. He barely managed to compose himself before picking up the receiver.

“He-hello?”

He hated how his voice shook.

“Boss?”

Norman’s heart nearly stopped as he heard your voice. Something was wrong. Your voice was raw and strained. It sounded as if you were in a great deal of pain and had even been crying.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

Norman straightened in his chair as he listened intently. He heard some rustling on the other end as you moved something. He could hear your labored breathing and he gripped the phone tight enough for his knuckles to turn white.

“I’m sorry, Boss,” you rasped, “I won’t be able to come in today.”

Norman couldn’t hide the panic in his voice.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I think I ate something bad yesterday. I’ve been sick all night.”

“Do you need a ride to the hospital?” Norman asked quickly.

“No… I don’t think so. I should be fine in a day or two… once I’m done throwing up… ugh… sorry… that’s TMI…I gotta go, Sir. I promise, I’ll try to be back in as soon as I can.”

Norman heard the click of the phone as you hung up. As soon as you did, he bolted up from his chair, his mind in a whirlwind. This response… he hadn’t expected it. He felt afraid and panicked. No… Afraid was too tame a word. Terrified, more like. The thought of you being in pain caused an ache in his chest. He needed to make sure that you were okay. He couldn’t handle the idea of you suffering all by yourself.

Norman instantly sat back down, wiping his hands over his face.

“Get a grip. She’ll be fine.”

He tried to start his work day. He tried to focus. But all he could think about was how you didn’t have anyone to take care of you. You lived alone and most of your friends were busy. At a time like this, you shouldn’t have to take care of yourself.

What if…

What if you were so sick that you couldn’t take care of yourself?

Norman eyed the phone, his stomach twisting with worry. If you didn’t have anyone… then he would have to step in. Maybe he should send someone to check on you?

—

You were curled up in a ball on your bathroom floor, praying as hard as you could. The twisting pain in your abdomen was bad enough but you also had the sensation of rocks scrapping your throat. You really needed a drink but the kitchen was so far away and walking made you dizzy. Overall, you were miserable. You had thrown up all night and just when you thought you couldn’t throw up anymore, your stomach provided more bile. You had spent the entire night on the cold tile of your bathroom. You knew if you could just relax you could get some sleep… maybe.

It was at times like these you wished you had a roommate.

Just anybody to hold your hair or rub your back.

With a groan, you moved into a sitting position and leaned against the wall. You ached deep down in your bones and there was a pounding in your head. You kept sliding in and out of a tired delirium; unsure of what was real or a dream. So when you first heard the knocking, you thought it was just in your head. But it came again, louder and more frantic. You scowled as you realized it was coming from your front door.

Who the heck could that be?

You waited a moment and there came another set of knocks, louder this time. And somehow it was even more panicked. With a roll of your eyes and every ounce of strength you could muster, you started crawling to the front room. You reached the door and used the knob to pull yourself into a standing position. You felt another knock and, without even looking through the peephole, you jerked the door open. You planned to glare at whoever it was because they made you get up, but you were shocked into silence upon seeing who it was.

Norman Osborn was standing at your door.

“Nor- Doctor Osborn??”

You had to be dreaming right? Norman Osborn couldn’t be here. He was at work. You must have a fever. That was the only explanation- this was a hallucination. You were still on your bathroom floor, passed out. You had to be.

“Y/N, I am so sorry to make you get up, but I don’t exactly have a key.”

You blinked at him. He… He was really here? The man you were falling in love with, the man you supposedly had no chance with- he was standing at your door. His eyes were filled with worry and fear as he beheld you. Looking down at yourself, you instantly felt embarrassed. You were just in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. You didn’t want Norman to see you like this! You hadn’t showered yet!

You tried to hide yourself behind the door, tired eyes fixed on Norman’s face.

“Wha… what are you doing here?”

Norman stepped forward, practically pushing his way into your apartment.

“You should be laying down, come on.”

He gestured towards the couch but when you tried to take a step for it, the room spun and you went to drop. Thankfully, Norman was right beside you to balance you. He pulled your left arm around his shoulders and led you over to the couch. He darted back to the door to make sure it shut before he came right back to your side. You laid down on the couch, confusion written all over your face. Norman’s hand came to your forehead and you marveled at the worry in his ocean eyes.

“You’re burning up,” Norman whispered.

“What are you doing here?” You asked again.

Norman met your gaze and you realized just how close he was. If you weren’t so nauseous, you would’ve been noticing the butterflies. But there was no room for the fluttering creatures. All you felt was the urge to throw up and you sure weren’t about to throw up all over Norman. That would be a disaster. So you clenched your jaw, and focused on breathing.

“I’m here to take care of you,” Norman explained.

“Am I dreaming?” you muttered as you curled into the fetal position.

“Ha, no. I doubt you’d dream about me taking care of you.”

“You’d be surprised,” you sighed as you closed your eyes, “I dream about a lot of things.”

You peeked a look at Norman through your eyelashes. He wore an amused smile as he shrugged out of his coat and set it on the coffee table. As you watched him, you fought the urge to tell him how pretty he was; his blue eyes all full of worry. You wanted to reach out and ruffle his messy hair.

“Yeah I have a fever,” you laughed.

“Most likely. I should get you back to your bed.”

“Nah… you should get me to the bathroom.”

“What? To the- Oh! Right!”

Norman got to his feet and helped you off the couch. You gripped his forearm tightly as he walked you down the short hallway and into the bathroom. You dropped down before the toilet to empty out your stomach, no longer able to keep it down. You automatically reached a hand back to grab your hair but Norman beat you to it.

“I’ve got you,” Norman assured softly.

While his one hand held your hair, the other rubbed your back. You would’ve liked to really enjoy this moment, but puking your guts out kind of took priority. After you were done, Norman handed you some tissue to wipe your mouth with. Surprisingly, this last toilet full of vomit seemed to calm the twisting in your abdomen. At the very least, you didn’t feel as nauseous.

“I’m sorry,” you groaned, “I’m gross.”

“You do not apologize for this,” Norman ordered firmly.

You turned to face your boss and froze. He was crouched beside you, hand still rubbing your back. His blue eyes watched you with concern and he honestly looked like he might start crying. With a scowl, you looked him up and down. He looked so out of place in your tiny bathroom. Like a fancy book stuck in with a bunch of cheap novels.

“Are you really here?”

Norman gave a short laugh as he smirked.

“Yes, Miss L/N. I am really here. Do you need anything? Some water?”

“Yeah… but I don’t know if I can keep it down.”

“You need to stay hydrated,” Norman declared, “I’ll get you a glass.”

“There’s bottled water in the fridge!” you called as he left the room.

Now alone, you attempted to understand what was happening. Norman Osborn was not only in your apartment, he was here to take care of you. It felt so bizarre but you were unbelievably grateful. If you had been more lucid you would’ve been worrying over how dirty your apartment was. But in truth, you were quite lost in your pain and couldn’t really form coherent thoughts very well. You sat cross-legged on the floor just staring at the white tile. It wasn’t too long before Norman returned to you with a bottle of water.

“Here,” Norman offered you the bottle after he opened it, “Drink it slow.”

“Yes, sir.”

You sipped on the water and grimaced. You could still taste the bile in your throat but the cool water soothed some of the pain. With a sigh, you leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. You heard Norman shuffling and took a peek to see him sitting on your counter. You watched him for a long moment. He was looking at his hands, obviously feeling out of place.

“I still don’t think you’re here,” you mumbled, “Why would you be?”

Norman’s head came up and his expression was unreadable.

“Do you want me to leave?”

There was a deep pain in his voice and it surprised you. You opened your eyes fully, still trying to read his expression. His eyes reminded you of a kicked dog and you felt the urge to start crying just looking at him.

“NO! Please stay... I’m happy you’re here… really… happy…”

You were too sick to feel embarrassed over your words. Norman just gave a small smile and urged you to drink some more water. That smile was so gosh-darn adorable. He had no right.

“So… did you take the day off?” you asked in an attempt to move the conversation on.

Norman gave a nod. You looked away from him towards the other side of the room.

“You really didn’t have to do this… not for me.”

Norman scowled.

“I couldn’t leave you here all by yourself with no one to take care of you.”

You gave a halfhearted smile.

“And you say you’re not a good man. I’m glad we’re friends…”

You closed your eyes, letting your head lull to the side. You were exhausted. Your pain was thankfully starting to dull just enough to let your mind slip into the realm of sleep. With someone watching over you, you felt like you could finally relax.

“Y/N?”

“Hmmm?”

“Would you like to lay down?”

“Yeah… that sounds nice.”

But you didn’t make a move to get up. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you had the strength. Every bone in your body ached and your back was the worst. All that vomiting just took it out of you. So you were pretty content to drift off here on the floor. You thought you had started dreaming as you heard Norman’s voice, practically whispering in your left ear.

“You don’t want to sleep here, my dear,” he said as he took the water bottle from your hand, “Come on. Can you stand?”

You slowly shook your head back and forth, eyes still closed. Norman was silent for a long moment.

“Would it be alright if I carried you then?”

“Mhmm? Yeah… that’s alright. You can hold me.”

You lazily lifted your arms and Norman chuckled.

“Alright, come on.”

Norman’s arms wrapped around you as your arms fell upon his shoulders. You were lifted from the floor, held bridal style, and only now did you realize- it wasn’t a dream. You smiled and pulled yourself closer, nestling yourself in the crook of Norman’s neck. You breathed in his scent in a way you had always wanted since the day you borrowed his shirt. Tightening your arms around him, you decided you never wanted to let go. You drifted through the air as Norman carried you to the other room.

“Y/N… you can let go now.”

You felt your bed beneath you but still refused to remove your arms from around his neck. In fact, you tighten your grip a little more.

“Y/N?”

Norman whispered your name and you smiled. You could feel the butterflies now and you loved the feeling. You didn’t want to let go because you knew the feeling would disappear the moment you did.

“Y/N.”

“Hmmm? Oh… I guess…”

You finally let go and flopped back onto your pillows with a huff.

“I’ll be in the other room if you need me,” Norman said, “Get some rest.”

You gave a tired smile, eyes still closed. Now comfortably in bed, you started to fully drift off. You felt Norman lean over you as he pulled your covers up to your shoulders. His cologne wafted over you one last time and you gave a drowsy sigh.

“Thank you, Norman.”