#Yeah I’m spending holy week with my grandma right now

[baconcolacan]

I just experienced 6 successive blackouts where I am right now. This is gonna be fun for me,,,

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

They'd Bring You Back

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader 

Summary: You’re an unsub’s latest target, but your personality is way more than he bargained for. 

Warnings: Blood/descriptions of stabbing and cutting, typical CM drama, fluffy dad!hotch 

-

“And what about me?” You’d asked with a puffy lip, arms crossed, pouting as you sat on your father’s lap. He’d just laughed. 

“What about you?”

“If I got kidnapped.” He rolled his eyes.

“You’re so annoying, they would bring you back. And that-” He said as he stood up, taking you with him before setting you on the floor. “Is a promise.” 

Things had changed since you had that conversation. Drastically - back then you were only eight and your dad was a prosecutor for the DA. Your mom was alive. Your brother wasn’t even a thought in their minds at that point. And nobody could fathom what would happen when you were a little older. 

You went off the rails when your mother died. The trauma was enough that you ended up living with Rossi for a few months while your dad figured out how to juggle Jack and the job and all of your issues. That further fractured your relationship when you felt like he forgot about you. But since you moved back in with him, you had started to feel like things could be normal again. Like things could be good again. You were getting into a routine - Jack would stay with your aunt while your dad was on a case since he went to a school on the other side of town from yours, you would watch Rossi’s house while he was gone since you were old enough to stay by yourself, and you’d go pick up your dad when he got back from a case. 

They’d spent a week in Reno and really just wanted to get back to the house after mountains of paperwork. The holidays were coming up and your dad wanted to spend as much time with you as he possibly could, promising to take off some time to go on a day trip with you and Jack. You had made his favorite snack and walked out of Rossi’s front door, locking it and making sure it was locked, before going over to your car. 

You held the covered bowl of food in one hand, trying to get the right key in the other hand. You got as far as unlocking the car before you heard a shuffling noise behind you. You turned, seeing nothing alarming, but when you turned back there was an unfamiliar person in front of you. 

“Hotch, I think you need to accept that she was taken because...” Rossi started the next morning as they walked into the briefing room. The worst part of it was that they were being briefed on you. The police had determined that you’d been kidnapped, obviously, because there was no way in hell you’d start running away when things had just started to get better between you and your dad. 

“How could they have known?” Hotch asked. “How could this unsub have known it was my daughter walking out of your house?” Rossi shrugged, not quite having an answer, and the two sat down. 

“I’ve been thinking that the unsub must have been watching for a while. Long enough to know that she stays at Rossi’s when you’re both gone. They have to know who she is, Hotch. It doesn’t make sense for this to just be a random kidnapping,” Morgan said. 

“And if anyone can get through it, it’s her,” JJ offered. “She’s a strong-ass kid. She just needs to hold on until we can find her.” 

“Uh, guys?” Garcia walked in the room with a remote in hand, switching the large TV in the room over to what looked like a livestream. Of you. 

“Holy-” Morgan started. Hotch’s eyes widened in shock, and as if he couldn’t see he walked up to the screen. “It’s a snuff film.” 

You were tied up in a chair, a rope around your throat and your body so you were forced to sit up with your spine to the back of the chair. Your mascara was running down your face in silent tears.

“My dad’s going to find me!” You yelled to the unsub, looking around the room. They were watching the same camera that your dad was, but you didn’t know that. You didn’t know that you were the star of your very own snuff film. Suddenly the unsub’s voice came over the loud speaker in the dark, cold room. A cellar - you had to be in a basement or a cellar or something. You came to that conclusion at the same time as your father did, and you also came to the conclusion that he was watching you. This unsub was using you to get to your father, and somehow that pissed you off more than the idea of someone kidnapping you just for kicks. 

“He’s using her to get to me,” Hotch determined. “We need to find out how to contact this unsub. Get what he wants. Garcia, do everything you can to track them down. We need to figure out what he wants before he hurts her.” 

“My dad’s going to find me!” You yelled again. “I bet he’s already profiled how small your dick is!” 

“Okay, sweetheart, now’s not the time,” your dad mumbled as if he was speaking directly to you. He rubbed his pointer finger against a scar on his thumb, one you’d given him shortly after your mom died. 

“Although impotent might not actually be that bad of an observation,” Rossi suggested. You struggled against the hard ropes that were holding you down, only getting angrier and angrier at the unsub for not at least facing you. 

You finally huffed and looked at the camera in front of you, then around the room. You were definitely in a cellar or a basement of some kind - maybe even an old nuclear bunker or something. The walls were metal, but they looked home-made almost. The white paint was peeling off of said metal walls, revealing a rusty red color that looked like dried blood. Then you were there, in an antique-looking wooden chair. So it was probably an estate of some kind, you thought. Who else would just have this kind of shit sitting around unless they were older, and it had definitely been a younger guy that kidnapped you. You could only hope your dad made the same observation as he watched you on the other side of the camera. Because who else would that camera be for, right? 

“You know, your walls give off a lot of information about where I am!” You called throughout the room, looking at the green door. Just then, someone walked in. The same guy who kidnapped you, or at least the same body. But he was wearing a ski mask so you couldn’t identify him.

“Really?” The man asked. He actually seemed curious. 

“This chair is antique. So is this room. So you’re keeping me in some kind of family home or estate. I’d guess your grandma’s or your mom’s house because you don’t seem like the type of guy who would ever make it out. And because you’re leaving the mask on, you’re probably not going to kill me. Only people who plan to kill show their faces because they’re scared of being visually identified,” you rattled off. “And we were only in the car for about fifteen minutes, three minutes off of the highway, so there’s no way you took me too far. I take back the impotent thing, at least so far, because you haven’t tried to assault me yet. Anyone who was impotent or had that issue probably would have already.” The man stood there, his arms crossed over a black hoodie. You could vaguely see a shape within the hoodie pocket to know that it was a knife of some kind. 

“Good job, kid. Maybe you are your daddy’s kid. I’ve been watching you, you know.” You spit onto the floor out of pure disgust. How long had this creep been watching you? And how? 

“Yeah, and if you know who I am then you’re planning to ask for ransom money. Which, you should know, you’ll get. If the FBI won’t pay it, my dad will. But if you’re streaming this to him like I think you are, then you’re planning to do something to me until you get that money.”

“You are smart. I don’t have the letter ready yet, so I figured I’d come have a little fun.” The unsub noticed how calm you were and it kind of scared him a little bit - like who the fuck was calm in this kind of situation? He figured you would be scared, beg your dad to save you, but you were actually holding your own. Huh. 

Your dad noticed that, too, and his chest swelled with pride at the same time his stomach ached with fear for you. He kept asking himself why the unsub was sharing it, but he realized. He wanted your father to see what he was doing to you, he wanted your dad to see that everything that happened to you was a reflection of him. 

“He’s not a sexual sadist,” your dad said. “The motive isn’t sexual. At all.” 

“Good,” Morgan muttered. “But what do you think he wants, then?”

“He wants me to see my actions as a reflection of what happens to her,” he concluded. “He’s going to hurt her. Every time I give him something, it’s going to stop. And then he’s going to start again until I give him what he wants. I’m going to assume it’s money. She’s right about the location, at least from what I can see, so I would assume that money is the main motivation for this.” 

“Maybe bail money?” Rossi suggested. “It would make sense. If we put someone away, he would want to see them out. And bail would be a large amount of money.” 

“I’ll go tell Garcia to look for people we’ve put away who would be eligible for bail,” Reid said as he stood up. He shuffled away from the table toward Garcia’s office, leaving them to watch the live stream. 

“I’ll go make sure SWAT is ready when we have our guy,” Morgan said. “I’ll lead. You don’t need to go in there, Hotch, because for all we know he wants to actually hurt you as well as her.” 

“I’ll watch some of the initial footage back. See if we can figure anything about the location,” Prentiss volunteered. Everyone left the table except for your dad, Rossi, and JJ. Your dad had barely even paid attention, too busy looking at the screen as the unsub creeped around you. He had since drawn a knife, twirling it between leather-gloved fingers. 

“If you’re going to hurt me, there’s literally no reason to wait,” you pointed out to the unsub.

“You’re annoying. No wonder your dad doesn’t love you.” That hit a nerve in both you and your father, but you didn’t show it. You just sat up a little bit, adjusting your cold, frozen ass on the seat. 

“If you’re trying to turn him against me, it’s not going to work. I know he loves me, even in his own twisted way. So stop trying to make it seem like he doesn’t. Psychological torture isn’t going to work on someone who watched their mom die right in front of them.” Your dad’s heart fell thinking about all of the trauma you’d already been through, and how little of it you’d even discussed. After your mom died you just shut down to everyone, including the therapists who tried to help you get through it. You had just pretended like nothing was real and nothing was wrong. This, though? This was fucking real. And you couldn’t block it out no matter how badly you wanted to. 

Your father watched as the conversation shifted from just that to actual events that had happened, indicating just how long this guy had been watching. He talked about the fight you had three weeks ago about you accusing your dad of being too overprotective. Then he brought up a fight that was so bad that Jack literally ran down the street to get away from you two. And by then you were crying, begging your dad to just come get you and prove that he loved you. You had been effectively broken by the time the unsub left and he hadn’t even used the knife that he had. 

Your father watched absolutely helplessly as the man hurled abusive, and untrue, thoughts at your brain. He watched as the unsub untied you before leaving, allowing you to curl your legs up to your chest and cry on your own. You were doing so well a few minutes ago, so well that you thought maybe your dad might even be proud of you. But now? 

“Okay, I have a list of everyone eligible for bail that had anything to do with us. Cases we’ve consulted on, ones we’ve actually worked, all that jazz,” Garcia said over the phone speaker. 

“Can you cross reference that with men?” JJ asked.

“Honey, that takes one off the list of fifty,” Garcia answered. JJ sighed. 

“What about family issues? Garcia, check any cases that revolved around families. Where they were the target, the motivation, anything,” Rossi said. Everyone could hear Garcia typing, the sound fading out as everyone watched the screen to see what was going to happen next. Reid came back in the room carrying what could only be a ransom note. 

“It’s addressed to you, not the BAU,” Reid said as he handed it to your dad. He sighed, taking the letter, and sat down. 

Aaron Hotchner: 

You can see I have your daughter. You will deliver two installments of fifty thousand dollars. I will be live streaming to your organization as well as a chatroom. Until I receive funds, from this moment on, your daughter will be the star of her very own film. When you can acquire the funds, deliver them to the P.O. Box below. The installments must be in full, or I will not hesitate to kill her. The installments must be delivered over the course of twenty-four hours. For example, you may not deliver one hundred thousand dollars at once. Thank you for your cooperation. 

- X

“So he’s trying to get money in two different ways. On the chatroom and from you. This is serving more than one purpose,” Rossi said. He took the note. “Garcia, look and see if any of the bail amounts total one hundred thousand dollars. And look to see if any of them are cash only.” 

“Nothing. I’m sorry,” Garcia said after a moment of silence. 

“We’ll give them the first fifty thousand,” JJ determined. Everyone in the room turned to look at her as if she was crazy except for your dad. He was visibly shaken, eyes glued to the camera. 

“What?” Rossi asked. 

“We’ll give them the first fifty thousand as soon as we can get it. We can go ahead and trace the P.O. box, find any connections, and hopefully get our guy before it even gets delivered.”

“And if not?” Your dad asked. 

“If not, then we sincerely hope he’s bluffing about hurting her before he gets the second one. Twenty-four hours is a long time.”

Hotch turned back to the screen to see that you were sleeping until the unsub came into the room again. He slammed the door open, carrying a knife in his hand, and walked toward you. You jumped, but didn’t move. You had nowhere to go. You couldn’t leave, so you just sat there with nervous eyes. 

“I sent them the ransom note,” the unsub said casually. You swallowed. 

“Okay, and? We don’t have that kind of money, and federal funds aren’t going to be...” 

“I don’t care about federal funds. Someone better give me my fucking money. Isn’t it taxpayer dollars anyway?”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” 

“Oh, I’m so hurt,” the unsub said, “boo hoo. You’ll be the one crying before too long. Sit back in the chair.” You didn’t try to run as he tied you up. You didn’t cry. You didn’t say anything. You just looked at the camera, eyes pleading for someone to fucking do something. If you knew your dad as well as you thought, he’d already made the connections about where you were, hopefully why the guy needed money, and they were already going through the ransom note. 

But, no. Your dad was watching as the unsub started by lifting your chin with the silver knife. Then he brushed your hair behind your ears. And then, out of nowhere, he dug the knife into your skin and dragged it down your arm. 

“Dad, please,” you said, knowing fully well that he was watching. You didn’t want to seem like you couldn’t handle yourself, but you were getting scared that maybe this guy was actually going to kill you if he didn’t get what he wanted. 

“Your daddy’s due to give me some money in a few hours. I figured I’d let you bleed until then.” The unsub was casual as he wiped both sides of the knife on your jeans and then walked out of the room, leaving you tied up. 

Garcia tried to had into the livestream and say something, but it didn’t work - there was no way to get a message to you. Your dad just had to sit there and call the bank, telling them that he needed to withdraw everything from his savings. He felt helpless as he watched you cry and bleed. 

The P.O. box turned to nothing. The guy had paid in cash and given them a fake name. Garcia’s search came up with four possible matches. Then she looked at property records, and then it was time to give the profile of the unsub. Your dad’s eyes were glued to the screen in the conference room, not even listening to the profile that he would usually be concerned about. He just sat there and watched, hoping that you knew he wouldn’t leave your side even then. 

The bank came through and let him withdraw the money, but not before the unsub came back and cut another gash into the same arm. Your dad went to the P.O. box and peeled his eyes away from the screen long enough to deposit the money. They had cops waiting to see who collected it, but nobody did. Nobody even tried to get anything from those boxes. 

“You should get some rest,” Rossi said later that night. Your dad shook his head, refusing to leave the screen. “He got his money.”

“And he said he’s going to hurt her still,” your dad insisted. “I’m not leaving her, even if it’s just a screen.” Rossi sighed. The rest of the team agreed not to leave you, either, and they sat there for most of the night, watching as the unsub cut you like a piece of paper. 

You had told the unsub numerous times that your dad was coming to get you, and those words haunted the entire BAU as they watched you on the screen. They weren’t coming because they didn’t know where to go. And then the unsub talked you up again, mentioning that he knew you were quiet enough that you wouldn’t scream. 

“Garcia, check for neighborhoods. Widen the search again, maybe it’s not bail after all,” Morgan instructed. Garcia started typing again. 

“There’s a Joshua Robinson, he lives twenty minutes from Rossi’s house. It looks like his father was one of our unsubs who didn’t make it four years ago. And it looks like he’s over that amount of time in missing mortgage payments. I think this could be our guy,” she said. 

“I’ll get SWAT ready again,” Morgan said. He stood up and left the room. Everyone went their separate ways except for your dad, who sat there and watched as the unsub full on stabbed you. Fucking stabbed you - you actually screamed at him instead of starting to cry. You called him impotent. A bitch. You called him slimy. You called him everything in the book and it only aggravated him more. 

Morgan drove as fast as he ever had over to the house. They raided it and found nothing - no basement, no nothing. And then they found the reason why the guy was so behind on house payments. They owned the land next to the house, too. It was only a matter of time before they found the bunker and the unsub trying to get away. 

Garcia had stopped the stream as soon as she could and called EMT’s to the scene, knowing how hurt you were and how much blood you’d lost. But it was up to your dad to go down to the creepy bunker and get you. He sighed as he descended the stairs and opened the now familiar green door, seeing you, untied but still in the chair. You were so bloody that he barely even recognized you. 

“Dad?” You asked as he walked in. He nodded, kneeling in front of you. 

“You’re safe, sweetheart, come with me,” he said softly. He threw the ropes off of you and reached underneath you, picking you up and being careful not to hurt you any more than you were already hurt. He took you up to the surface, holding your hand as the EMT’s worked their magic on your arm to try and keep you from bleeding any more than you already were.

They figured out that the unsub had been living at his father’s property, so behind in mortgage payments that he needed almost a hundred thousand dollars to pay for that and for property upkeep so he could sell the place and get a fresh start after attempted murder and kidnapping. You were right about almost every observation you’d made, down to the chair, and when your father looked around the room after loading you into the ambulance he realized just how smart you actually were. And how he hadn’t been paying attention to it. 

The next few hours were a blur - they wouldn’t let your dad come with you for anything at the hospital so he just sat there, waiting, with the rest of the team. The unsub had done quite a bit of nerve damage to your arm, leaving you unable to feel any pain in it for what may be forever, but at least you still had your arm. Rossi bought you a guilt gift of a new phone, too, since you’d dropped yours on the concrete, and said he was adding extra extra security to his house if you ever wanted to go there again. 

“You were watching the whole time, weren’t you?” You finally said to your dad, shutting your new phone off and putting it in your lap. He was going through some folder before he turned to you, nodding. 

“I wouldn’t leave you if I was there. And I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”

“I’m sorry that anyone thinks I’m worth a hundred thousand dollars.” That made him laugh, if only a little bit. “You always said that they’d bring me back if I was kidnapped.”

“Because you were so annoying!” He laughed. “I think the guy almost did. He was getting pretty fed up with you.” Joking about it, it seemed, was the only way to not cry about it. At least in your family. 

“Yeah, I think telling him he had a small dick was a lot for him.” 

“I’m really proud of the way you handled that.”

“I had nowhere to go if I tried to run,” you shrugged. “You always taught me that if I’m in a bad situation, stay in it unless I have a way out. You said that’s how you always get through things. Because you don’t just walk out on them.” 

“You don’t feel like I walked out on you, do you? And you don’t think that’s why we are the way we are?” You looked down, thinking about it for a minute, before you shook your head. 

“No. But-” Your eyes lit up when Rossi walked Jack into the room. He was holding another guilt gift, too, and ran up to you. You picked up your brother and put him in your lap, making him laugh.

“What happened to your arm?” Jack asked, poking at a bandage. You tried not to wince, smiling instead. 

“Just a bad guy. But I worked the case,” you told him. He smiled.

“Just like Daddy?”

“Yeah,” your dad said with a smile as he walked over to the two of you. “Just like me.” 

A/N: Just some good ole classic Dad!Hotch for y’all... I hope you like it as much as I do!! 

[yslkook]

#deep dive (11)

#corporate masterlist summary: you receive some surprising news at work and you and jungkook go on your first mini-trip together in tokyo. word count: 11.2k warnings: cursing, alcohol, smut, a fight, discussions of mental health smut warnings- handjob, blowjob, fingering, guided masturbation, penetrative sex, overstimulation, a lil crying, excessive use of pet names lol a/n: another chapter that got away from me... our couple is moving along ladies!! as always ty @cutechim for ur inspiring enthusiasm!!

Surprisingly, after your outburst at work, you hadn’t been reprimanded at all. Despite being nervous to show your face to your boss and your coworkers, there was apparently no need to be nervous.

Because your boss was out on “leave”. Which, as Seokjin and Namjoon had informed you, was really just a way for the senior leaders to tell your boss and his boss to get their shit together.

Much more aggressively, of course. 

You’re surprised to see your boss’s office empty and his boss’s office empty as well. And then guilt begins to seep into your bones- had you gotten them fired? It was hard enough to land a job these days, and had you done that to them?

Jungkook catches your forlorn gaze and squeezes your hand subtly as he walks with you to your cubicle. Your side of the floor is relatively quiet today, as many people were out of the office or working from home.

He sits with you in the chair in your cubicle and pulls his laptop out to do some work on this breezy morning. You quite like these impromptu working sessions with him- even if you’re (halfway) in love with him, you both know where to raise the lines of professionalism.

But you hold his hand for a second longer, and he squeezes once more.

“What if I got them fired,” You whisper, careful to keep your voice low.

“Even if they did get fired, they deserve it. For creating a toxic workplace environment,” Jungkook says, so full of conviction that you almost believe it.

“Okay,” You say uncertainly, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs, giving you a sweet, bunny smile, “I’m sure.”

You nod, sighing heavily. “I’ll book a conference room, can you ping Sana and let her know we have to finish those deliverables for the workshop in August? So Namjoon can get his eyes on it…”

“Can’t believe it’s already May,” Jungkook mumbles, shaking his head, “Fucking crazy.”

“I know, right?” 

You pack up your laptop and your notebook in your bag and gesture for Jungkook to follow you to the conference room. He walks behind you, wanting to catch a glimpse of the way your dark green pencil skirt hugs your hips and your ass.

Nice.

Midway through your working meeting with Sana and Jungkook, you receive a ping from Hae-Ri herself. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you when you stop speaking mid-sentence, your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity.

“Uh, I gotta step out for a few minutes. Can you two finish this off in the meantime?” You ask, pulling your green blazer on shoving your laptop in your bag.

“Yeah, I think we’re almost done anyway,” Sana says, eyeing you and Jungkook with suspicious eyes. She’s long suspected something was going on with you both. She’s not blind to the not so discreet heart eyes you both send each other, but she assumes you both are keeping whatever it is a secret.

Jungkook sends you a text right away. You tell him Hae-Ri asked to speak with you and that you’ll text him later.

Your heart is in your throat as you walk the two minutes to her corner office with a view but you keep your face as neutral as possible.

She’s already ushering you inside and closing the door behind her, telling you to take a seat.

“Do you want coffee or tea or water?” Hae-Ri asks, pouring herself a large cup of coffee.

“No, I’m okay, thanks,” You say, straightening your back as you try to calm your racing heart.

She sits in her big, fancy leather office chair (it looks like it costs more than the outfit on your skin) and she just looks at you, with her unnerving eyes. You say nothing, only meeting her gaze with the same intensity.

Hae-Ri breaks your impromptu staring contest first with a wide grin. 

“So,” She starts.

“So…”

“Do you know why I asked you to come in here?”

You bite your tongue, wanting to ask her “how would I know why you called me in here” but you refrain. “No…”

“Being the head of business development means that I have visibility to everything,” Hae-Ri says matter of factly, “And I’m sure you know that Namjoon and Seokjin sing your praises every chance they can.

“The reason I called you in here is because there’s an opening for a new team that’s gonna be managed under both Hyo-Jin and I. It’ll be a hybrid approach for managing new products, submissions and being part of the business strategy. The position would have a direct line to Hyo-Jin but a dotted line to me. And we think you would be a great fit for it. It’s an associate director level position…”

Associate director? You can’t help your jaw from dropping, that’s three levels up from your current position. It’s a promotion on top of a promotion.

Holy shit. Nobody’s ever recognized you in this way. You swallow a ball of emotion down your throat- of course, you complain about work, about your shitty boss. But never in your wildest dreams, could you have imagined that two of the heads in this area would recognize and recommend you.

“It’s a lot to think about and consider. The position will be posted on the internal career portal in about three weeks to a month. It’ll be a challenge, but I think you’re up to the task. Of course, there is no pressure if you choose not to apply. But talent and leadership should not go unrecognized.”

When you tell Jungkook what Hae-Ri said to you in the safety of your car, he’s far more excited than you are. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your lips and you can’t help but laugh at his antics.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” Jungkook breathes, “About time these people got their shit together-”

“It’s a lot to think about,” You muse, “A promotion of three levels? That hardly ever happens…”

“That just shows how incredibly amazing my hot, sexy, girlfriend is,” Jungkook says, earning himself a swat of his shoulder by your hand, “And it shows how shitty your boss was to let you fly under the radar for this long.”

You give him a small smile. “I have a few weeks to think about it before it gets posted. Hae-Ri said it should be up in mid-June…”

“We gotta celebrate,” Jungkook insists, dropping another kiss to your glossy lips. You laugh, feeling a little giddy along with him.

“It’s not premature?”

“We’re only celebrating the mere possibility.”

“Okay,” You nod, “Let’s go for drinks tonight with our friends? But can we just keep it between us? I don’t want to jinx anything.”

“Yeah, it can be our secret for now,” Jungkook winks, his hoops shaking as he laughs with you, “Stay the night tonight?”

“Maybe, I’ll see if Grandma is okay,” You murmur and Jungkook nods. A squeal (one that you’ll later deny) leaves your lips when Jungkook pulls you into his lap and presses kisses up and down the column of your neck.

“Now lemme show my girl how proud I am of her.”

It’s another night, a warm sticky night in June, where Jungkook stays over your house for the weekend. You don’t like leaving Grandma alone, despite her insistence that you have your own life. Jungkook understands, and it was actually him who had suggested spending the weekend at your place.

Your heart flutters at the thought of him. He had a late Friday meeting and had told you he’d meet you at your house around seven or eight that evening, and had subtly squeezed your hand in your cubicle in goodbye.

That was a few hours ago, and Jungkook had texted you letting you know that he was on his way. He had stopped by to bring flowers, a bottle of wine and some pastries for you and Grandma. They were Grandma’s favorites.

Grandma had insisted on making dinner for you and Jungkook, despite your protests. Your favorite aromas linger in the air and you contemplate having a few bites before Jungkook even arrives. You try to reach for a piece of mandu but Grandma swats your hand away, admonishing you for trying to eat before your boyfriend and guest even arrived.

Boyfriend. What a strange word.

A series of knocks. You eagerly step towards the front door, ignoring Grandma’s not so quiet snicker. 

“Hi,” You breathe out, feeling a little flustered. As if you hadn’t just seen him a few hours ago at work.

“Hi, sweet girl,” Jungkook says with a small upturn of his lips and you press a chaste kiss to his lips. It surprises him, how often you kiss him in front of Grandma. Even if they are quick, chaste kisses.

“You gonna invite him in or just stand there and let him get cold?” Grandma says from the dining room, peering over to you both with a hand on her hip.

“Yeah, you gonna let me get cold?” Jungkook asks with a wink and you groan. They always tag team you, but you don’t mind. In fact, you love it. You love that your boyfriend and your only remaining member of your family get along.

You pull him inside and take his bag from him, finally seeing the flowers, bottle of wine and box in his arms. 

“What’s all this?” You ask with widened eyes, “You didn’t have to, Jungkook…”

He always brings something when he comes over, and you always say those words to him. 

“His parents raised him better than to come to someone’s house empty handed,” Grandma says in approval, making Jungkook’s heart soar. Whenever Grandma gives an inclination that she likes him, it makes him smile. It’s endearing. You rub his cheek with your thumb affectionately and he scrunches his nose at your touch.

“I’ll go put your stuff upstairs,” You murmur, rubbing his back warmly and leaving him with Grandma. Jungkook pulls the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows to help Grandma put the food on the dining table, and your heart constricts at how well he fits with you in your cozy home.

You return to find three glasses of wine filled and a plate already set for you across from Jungkook. 

“Food’s so good, Grandma,” Jungkook moans, after nearly inhaling his entire plate. And then some.

“No thanks to your girlfriend,” Grandma snorts and shoots you a teasing smile when you protest loudly.

“Hey! You insisted!” 

You pout at both of them when they laugh at your expense, but their laughter makes you smile. Grandma asks Jungkook how work is going, how his family is. You only smile fondly at both of them, taking a backseat from the conversation. It amazes you, how quickly he’s taken to Grandma. You thought it would’ve taken a little more to pull him out of his shell. But he surprises you, as he usually does.

You clear the table and pour another glass of wine for you and Jungkook, who’s turning on your television to browse what movies or shows are available for watching. 

You sit next to him after dimming the lights, careful with the two glasses of wine. He’s careful about touching you, not wanting to offend or make you or Grandma uncomfortable. 

It’s endearing. You only smile at him, pulling the blankets up to cover you both and lean your head on his shoulder. He tenses up immediately, wanting to reluctantly move away from your touch but you squeeze his forearm in reassurance.

Grandma says nothing as she watches you both, only casting a knowing look to Jungkook. 

His cheeks flush at her gaze and he sinks deeper under the blankets, hiding his warm cheeks from Grandma. Grandma only chuckles to herself and you’re oblivious to both of them, eyes focused on the movie.

Grandma had long gone to bed, and you and Jungkook are cuddled under the blankets. Jungkook watches the movie raptly, oblivious to your stolen glances and almost touches. You sigh, wrapping an arm around his bicep and nosing at his neck. You absently push his hair away from his eyes, the pads of your fingers dancing over his scalp. It takes a few moments of you nipping his neck, your lips wet and warm against his skin for him to turn his gaze to you.

“Can I help you?” Jungkook asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “Let’s go to bed, baby.”

“But the movie,” Jungkook protests, his lips breaking into a wide smile at the furrow of your brow, “I’m only kidding. We can watch the movie in bed after all, right?”

You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully but he acquiesces. 

You get through all of ten minutes of the movie once you settle in between his legs in your bed. Jungkook’s chin is over your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist loosely. You wonder if he can hear your heart beating right out of your chest. He holds you so easily, as if he was always meant to fit between the spaces of your body.

You’ve changed into your pajamas, just a shirt and some shorts and Jungkook has as well. Into an oversized shirt and his boxers. 

Jungkook fully looks like your boyfriend, your baby, and it sends a wave of affection through you. Turning your head and shifting to look at him. His cut jaw calls for your attention and you press your lips there, to his neck and finally to his own lips.

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” You mumble, running your fingers through his dark hair.

“Are you mine?” Jungkook asks, pressing his forehead to yours. A smart comment is on the tip of your tongue, but it disappears from your mind quickly. The way he’s looking at you, as if you hold all of his warmth, makes you curl further into him and drop another kiss to his lips.

“Yes,” You exhale and your cheeks heat up when you pluck the courage to run a hand over his chest. Jungkook finds your shyness endearing- for someone a little rough around the edges, he’s not surprised at your softness.

“Baby,” Jungkook murmurs, the term of affection still making your heart lurch, “You can touch, sweet girl. ‘M all yours.”

You swallow, a little nervously. “Me too,” You say softly, “Want you to touch me, baby.” You lean your head on his shoulder, tugging him down to you and meet his lips eagerly. You deepen the kiss quickly, a moan slipping out of your mouth without realizing. You could kiss him for hours, the soft feel of his smooth lips against yours is addicting. Flurries of butterflies erupt in your belly when he nips your bottom lip playfully and you moan again, the sound shooting straight through Jungkook.

He pulls away for a breath, looking at you with hooded eyes. You’re about to dip your head for another kiss but he ducks his head to plaster his lips to your neck. The wetness of his tongue slides along the column of your neck, before he gently kisses you behind your ear. If you were standing, your knees would have buckled surely. Jungkook cups your face gently, rubbing your cheek as he buries his face in your neck.

“Jungkook,” You breathe and he coaxes an unexpected moan from your throat when he sucks and soothes your collarbones.

Jungkook pulls away with reddened lips and you immediately push your lips to his without missing a breath. He’s itching to let his hands roam, to squeeze and hike your shirt up around your waist before peeling it off altogether.

You run your tongue over his bottom lip teasingly and press your chest flat against his. He’s been so patient with you, taking it as slow as you had needed to. Jungkook has been following your lead this whole time, not wanting to overwhelm you. But you’ve been ready for him to take the lead and teach you. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel pressured.

And honestly, all Jungkook wants to do is make you feel good. And learn what you like and don’t like. He doesn’t think you even know what you like. He has a feeling of a few things that he is excited to explore with you.

Jungkook is not surprised when you take his hand and pull it under your shirt. The pads of his fingertips, brush lightly against your sides. You gasp at the sudden spark of his hands against your skin and impatiently slide up against him for more friction.

His hands are so big, so much bigger than your own, dotted in tattoos. You can hardly believe these are the hands that are squeezing you so gently and adoringly. But you’re impatient, and you pull your sleep shirt up and off of your frame to toss it to the side.

You want more. You want more of him and you don’t want slow. You want soft, but you’re ready for something a little more.

“My pretty girl,” Jungkook purrs, thumbs flitting over your tits, “Does my pretty girl want somethin’?”

“Just want you,” You mumble.

“Tell me,” Jungkook murmurs, fingers tracing over your tattoos with a featherlight touch.

“Want you to touch me,” You nearly whine, and he grins in satisfaction. One of these days, he’ll teach you what it means to beg. But not today. He palms your breasts, moaning into your neck just at the feel of your soft flesh in his hands. 

The sight of his tattooed hands on yours, his tattooed arms around you sends another bolt of arousal down your spine.

Your eyes close of their own volition when he pinches your nipple, a silent sound caught in your throat. And then his pliant mouth replaces his fingers, warm breath fanning over your chest. Arousal shoots down your spine and you squeeze your legs together without realizing it. 

It’s clear that he knows what he’s doing- not that you had any doubt in your mind about that. He’s told you that he’s had two serious girlfriends in college and the beginning of graduate school. You’re certain there were hookups in between and after. 

Your hips buck up, grinding into the air as you squirm in his arms. “Stay still,” Jungkook murmurs. You can’t help it, not really. But you try to listen anyway. “Open your eyes,” He coaxes you.

When you meet his eyes, they’re slick with desire and adoration. For you.

“Good girl,” He says, his voice low. The low timber of his voice sends a shudder through you and your eyes widen. Jungkook’s lips twist into a smirk.

“Will you let me make you feel good?” Jungkook asks, his hand ghosting over your thighs. Your hips jump at the sensation and he squeezes your waist. You nod eagerly. “Tell me, baby,” He says, his lips leaving trails of kisses down your chest and your belly.

“Yes,” You gasp, “Jungkook, please-”

He gives you a bright, bunny smile and your heart skips a beat. Adjusting you so that your back is flat against his chest, he kisses the back of your neck. His touch is constant on you- your belly, your waist, your breasts.

Jungkook palms your clothed pussy and you gasp sharply at the buzzing sensation suddenly filling your head. You reach behind him to wrap your arm around his head and tug on his hair impatiently as he rubs against you with quicker paces. 

You wonder if he even knows what he’s doing to you. From the wetness staining your panties, he just might find out soon enough. 

“Show me how you touch yourself, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice husky in your ear. You’re certain cotton is filling his brain, because there’s no way he just asked you that.

“What?” You ask, and Jungkook chuckles at your speechlessness.

“Didn’t hear me?” Jungkook says, “Show me how you touch yourself.”

You’re stunned into submission, peering up at him with hazy eyes. Keeping your eyes on him, you shrug out of your shorts and your underwear in one fell swoop, leaving you completely bare for his gaze. Goosebumps rise on your skin when he says nothing, only drinking you in with wide, thirsty eyes.

Jungkook swallows. “Fuck.”

“What?” You ask, beginning to panic at his lack of a reaction. You close your legs instinctively but he pushes your knees apart, giving him a view of your glistening folds.

“Had such a big crush on you in school,” Jungkook mutters, “You didn’t even know, baby. And now I get to see you like this. Because you gave us a chance.

“And you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Jungkook says, tugging your jaw to him and dropping a deep kiss to your lips.

“Thought you wanted a show,” You quirk the corner of your lips up and he chuckles against your neck. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you feel something hard poking at your ass.

It makes your stomach flip. You bring your knees up to your chest and spread your legs wider. Jungkook’s breaths are staggered in your ear and he squeezes your tits as your hands slide down your chest to your pussy. You rub your clit, your hips jolting immediately and Jungkook holds you steady. 

You tease yourself, your touch barely there as your clit throbs. “Look at you, pretty girl,” Jungkook murmurs. You circle your clit with your middle finger, gathering your wetness before Jungkook seizes your hand.

It appears he’s growing impatient, too.

His much longer fingers replace yours, the touch sending another bolt of electricity through you. You imagine what Jungkook’s fingers feel like against you almost all the time, but reality is so much better than your daydreams. He rubs you lazily and you whine, wanting him to go faster. You put your hand over his as he circles your clit.

You don’t even realize that you’re moaning and squirming, pushing back against his hard cock purposefully. “Be quiet, baby,” Jungkook whispers, nipping your earlobe, “Grandma’s only a few doors down…”

Jungkook makes you feel like you’re in your own world, thoughts filled with nothing but sinful honey and him. You whimper as he rubs your clit faster and faster, your thighs beginning to close to lock his fingers in place.

“Jungkook,” You moan, cheeks heating up at the pitchiness of your voice. Jungkook hums in response, only pressing his lips to your neck and his other hand to your chest. You push back against him harshly, back pressed into his chest as if you’re trying to mold yourself into him.

You writhe in his hold, not used to the feeling of his long, thick fingers rubbing your folds. Jungkook pushes a finger into your throbbing pussy once you’re slick and you shiver, a broken sort of noise escaping your lips. Your moans are loud, and Jungkook is pleased but he presses his lips to yours to swallow your soft noises.

Your grip around his wrist is tight, as if to tether yourself to him. “Hey,” Jungkook says softly, nipping at your earlobe again, “Look, baby. Watch me, look how your pussy was made for me. You’re so wet, sweet girl…”

Glancing down to where his fingers were gliding in and out of your wetness easily, you let out another choked noise. He slips another finger into your pussy and you let out a shuddering gasp of his name, your nails digging into his wrist. The lewd sounds of his fingers in your wetness fills your bedroom and if you weren’t so consumed by thoughts of him, you might be almost embarrassed.

“Kook,” You mumble, your hips grinding into his touch to feel as much of him as you can, “Kook, feels so good…” You snake a hand behind you to sink into his dark hair and tug lightly, pulling a soft groan from him.

“Good girl,” Jungkook murmurs, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, “My good girl, my dream girl-”

Another rush of wetness floods his fingers at his words and he smirks into your sweaty skin. Your ass is pressed up against his hardened cock, but he wants to make you feel good first. He can worry about himself later. He bucks his hips into your ass and you push back at the feel of his clothed cock against you.

Your thighs begin to shake, a coil beginning to snap in your belly. It’s more powerful than it’s ever been- your own fingers had never brought you to the edge like this.

“You’re close, right?” Jungkook nearly slurs, high off of the sound of your noises, “My pretty girl’s gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You tug his hair harder and nod furiously, hips still bucking into his fingers. It only takes a few more rubs of your clit and pumps of his fingers for you to gasp and arch your back off of his chest. Jungkook immediately plasters his lips to yours to silence the sound of you cumming.

He’ll have to hear them fully. He needs to. But not tonight.

You pull away to gasp for air and your chest is heaving, eyes wide at the force of your orgasm from just his fingers alone. “Jungkook,” You mumble, wanting to see him. You turn in his hold, finally facing him and he’s just as lust blown as you.

You give him a lazy smile and wrap your arms around him, nosing at his neck. Before he can say anything to you, you roll your hips into his, meeting his clothed hardness. Jungkook drops his head against the headboard, groaning softly. His hands are planted firmly on your bare hips and you seemingly don’t mind that he’s fully clothed while you’re not.

“Rock with me, baby,” He murmurs, burying his face in your chest. Your legs are on either side of his hips and you comply easily, your breath hitching when he kisses marks soothingly over your breasts.

You wonder if you’re about to have the pleasure of seeing Jungkook cum again- it’s always beautiful, like the rest of him. Your hips feel like home to him, he squeezes and swats your ass gently. You only grin at him, pressing your forehead to his. His eyes nearly close in pleasure but he keeps them open, wanting to see you moving with him. A wet spot forms on his boxers from both of your arousals and he knows he’s about to cum soon-

And you do, too. 

“Y’r g’nna make me cum in my pants, like I’m fifteen,” Jungkook pants, eyes straining to stay open to watch you.

“Or like you’re twenty-one and you’re obsessed with your mentor,” You breathe, earning yourself a pinch to your waist, “Kook, ‘m close again…” You never cum this quickly after the first time. Jungkook brings out the best parts of you, it seems.

“Me too, baby,” He grunts into your skin, harshly covering your lips with his own. A spark blooms in your belly, slowly spreading and warming you up from within. It’s much slower and less intense than your first orgasm, but just as delicious. You’re sensitive as he rocks his hips into yours and you whine softly at the feeling.

You move to sit on his thigh and your hands shake for a moment before scratching his chest with your freshly done nails. Then his abs. Then his navel. 

“Can I?” You mumble.

“Can you what, baby?” Jungkook asks, amusement still in his eyes. You huff. He’s really going to make you say it.

“Wanna feel you, baby,” You murmur, meeting his eyes, “Wanna feel your cock in my hand-”

“‘M yours, pretty girl,” He replies easily, taking your wrist in his hand. You palm him from outside his boxers and you both groan- you from how big he is, and him from how warm your hand feels against him.

You shyly dip your hand down the waistband of his boxers but he stops you for a second. He wordlessly moves you from his thigh to the bed to slip out of his boxers so that he’s bare to you as well. After all, it’s only fair.

You can’t stop the soft gasp that leaves your lips or the way that your eyes zero in on his leaking cock. He’s so big in your hands and you can’t help but lick your dry, parched lips. Your cheeks are warm and for once, you have nothing to say- no quip, no snarky remark. 

You tug on his shirt impatiently- how had you allowed him to be wearing clothes for this long? Pulling his shirt off of him and tossing it to the floor, you allow yourself the luxury of letting your hands roam his honeyed skin. He’s somehow both cut and soft, tight and supple.

Despite the number of times you’ve seen him like this, you can never get used to it. Even if it’s not the first time his cock is hot and heavy in your hands, you can’t help but trace his tattoos with your free hand and feel a little in over your head.

“Kook,” You murmur, curling close into his side and drawing your knees up to your chest, “Baby, teach me.”

Jungkook groans, the sincerity in your voice making his stomach flip. He takes your hand and squeezes before guiding you to the tip of his reddened cock. You experimentally palm his cock, smearing his leaking pre-cum over his cock and he gasps, burying his face in your shoulder.

You stroke him slowly, watching and listening for his breaths. They’re heavy against your skin and he tightens his grip around your waist, trying to melt into you. 

“Faster, baby,” Jungkook says, his voice wrecked, “‘m so close-”

You pump him faster in your hands, making sure to be gentle with your grip. Jungkook looks down, marvelling at how big he looks in your hands. 

“Am I doing okay, Jungkook?” You whisper, dark eyes wide and unsure. With hooded eyes, he groans and kisses you, and you feel his moans vibrating through your body. He’s so close- he can feel himself starting to come undone, and with another few pumps, he comes all over your hand. Some of his cum splatters on his belly but he pays it no mind, only focusing on regulating his breaths. Without thinking, you lick at the tips of your fingers and swallow the little bit of his cum that landed on your hands. 

“I’ll go get a tissue to clean you up,” You whisper, searching for your shirt. When you find it, you stand up on shaky legs, only for him to yank you back towards the bed.

“Jungkook,” You scold lightly, and he presses his face into your belly.

“You believe me when I say you’re my dream girl,” Jungkook murmurs, ignoring your noise of protest. He looks up at you with bright, sparkling eyes. You swallow nervously, unable to handle the sudden bubbling of adoration you hold for this man.

“Put your boxers on, Jeon,” You mumble, pushing yourself off of him. You hear him laugh fondly. He knows you too well, he knows you’re repeating his words in your head. You emerge from the bathroom, looking a little unsure but still determined. Your hands tremble a little as you attempt to clean him up and he covers your hand with his own to guide you. Jungkook watches you flit around the room before standing up and tugging his boxers on.

He stands up and wraps his arms around your waist, his hands dipping under your shirt. Being in his arms immediately calms you down in gentle waves. He’s become such a calming pillar, a welcomed force in your life. You don’t think even your wildest, most romantic dreams could have ever conjured up someone like him.

Maybe he’s your dream boy, too.

Jungkook drops a kiss to your cheek, walking you back to the bed and laying you on top of it. He pulls the covers up over both of you and is half on top of you. You lean in for a kiss, stars shining in your eyes as you look at him. His legs tangle with yours when he meets your lips and pulls you in close.

“Goodnight,” You whisper when you pull away, “I think you’re my dream boy that I didn’t know I was dreamin’ about.”

With that, you turn your head so he doesn’t see how flustered you are. Your cheeks meet the cool material of your pillow and you pretend not to hear his low chuckle. He only squeezes your waist and murmurs a soft ‘goodnight’ to you.

You’d submitted your application for the associate director position that Hae-Ri had recommended you to apply to. You’d already had the first round of interviews, with the person who would be your direct manager and with Hae-Ri herself. And then you had another interview with Hyo-Jin.

You felt at ease and it felt more like a conversation than an actual interview. Which Jungkook and Jin tell you is because you made the smart decision to get to know them both months ago, before you decided you wanted a shift in your career.

But then Hae-Ri dropped the bombshell on you after the series of interviews. To be in the position, she recommended you finish your masters program at the graduate school you dropped out of (or any grad school that had the same degree). She said the company would pay for it and you could do it while you worked.

But still. It left a sour, angry taste in your mouth.

Jungkook knows, somewhere in the back of his mind. That the words that are about to spill out of his mouth are going to upset you. But he says them anyway, because he thinks you need to hear them-

“If Hae-Ri said that she had a spot for you if you went back to school while working for her,” Jungkook says slowly, “Then isn’t it a no brainer? Your boss sucks, you complain about him and you deserve-”

“Back to school?” You scoff, “Everyone’s gonna be so much younger than me-”

“What does that matter? It’s just a year, and you’ll have your masters degree! Yeah, it’ll be hard to do it with work but you can-”

“I don’t wanna go back!” You exclaim (maybe a little childishly), and cross your arms over your chest. Annoyance seeps into you and you try your best not to get irritated at Jungkook. You know there is truth in his words but you don’t want to hear it just yet.

You’re not ready to face school again. You’re not ready to be at the same place that you had found out Appa had passed away. You’re not ready. Or are you?

“Why not! You don’t need to go back right away, Hae-Ri said-”

“I know what she said,” You say sharply, pinching the bridge of your nose with your brows furrowed, “You don’t need to repeat to me what she said, Jungkook.”

“I don’t understand,” Jungkook says flatly.

You start to notice his eyes losing its usual warmth, reminding you of the days when he would look at you so coldly.

You shiver. He instinctively reaches for you and you let him hold you close for a minute.

But the words come tumbling out of you, your cheeks blazing and ears burning, before you can stop them. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” You mutter and he drops his hand from your waist as if he’s been burned.

Ice crawls through your veins, dousing you in something cold and unforgiving. You’re hurting him (again), and you can’t stop yourself. You can hardly stand yourself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jungkook whispers, looking a little lost and a little heartbroken.

“It means you wouldn’t understand being too unable to take care of yourself to go to school,” You say, eyes narrow and jaw steeled, “It means everything’s come easy to you, Jungkook- fucking school, this fucking job-”

“That’s not fucking fair,” Jungkook says with a frown, “You’re deflecting and you’re being mean-”

You laugh. Mirthlessly. The hollowness seeping into your eyes makes Jungkook’s skin crawl.

“That’s me, baby. All I’m good at is deflecting and being mean. You haven’t caught on yet?”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly, hurt seeping into his voice as he levels his watery gaze at you, “You’re pushing me away. Stop it, baby.”

“Am I wrong?” You sneer, pressing your nails into your biceps. It hurts. You’re hurting him, it’s hurting you and you can’t stop running your mouth. You can’t stop the acid on your tongue or the daggers in your eyes.

You’re reacting this way just from the mere mention of going back to school. Pathetic.

“You have an opportunity to move ahead and you’re being stubborn about it because you don’t want to go back to school? I’m sure there are a lot of fucking hard memories associated with grad school but don’t take that out on me for wanting better for you,” Jungkook says coldly. While his eyes are icy, you still see the shine of unshed tears in them.

“I’m not being stubborn-”

“From all of this, that’s your response? That you’re not being stubborn?” Jungkook struggles not to raise his voice at you, feeling his chest burn with hurt.

“What else do you want me to say, Jungkook?” You throw your hands up in frustration, “I can’t make you understand-”

“I’m not telling you to make me understand,” Jungkook says, “I’m telling you to consider your future and your capabilities, you’re the one who fucking complains about work all the time-”

“Oh, well, sorry that we can’t be everyone’s fucking golden boy at work-”

“If you’re not gonna do anything about it, then don’t fucking complain-”

“Seriously? I can’t complain to my boyfriend now?”

“You’re missing the point, baby,” Jungkook sighs in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I can’t talk to you right now, not when you refuse to listen, and when you’re being spiteful.”

“W-what? What does that mean?” You say, nearly all of the fire extinguished from your belly at his words. He starts to put his jacket on, unable to look you in the eyes because if he does, he knows he’ll cry.

“W-wait, Jungkook,” You mumble, tugging his hand but he pulls it back as if you’ve burned him again, “Baby-”

“I can’t-” He squeezes his eyes shut, not noticing a few tears leak out. Your heart breaks in front of you- clearly you were too wrapped up in your own spiral of defense to realize how much your words were hurting him. “I don’t wanna be around you right now. Not if you’re gonna hurt me like this.”

“I’m-”

“I know you didn’t mean it, but you said it for a reason,” Jungkook says. His words make you tear up. “We can talk when you figure out why.”

“Jungkook,” You mumble, wanting to touch him but afraid he’ll reject you again, “Wait, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

He looks at you long and hard, heart cracking a little bit at the sight of your sad eyes. But you did this and you need to figure out why you were so defensive over going back to school. He deserves better than you lashing out at him for the mere mention of it. He knows it and you know it.

Jungkook wants to kiss your tears away, but he’s hurting, too.

You want to ask for a kiss, for a text when he gets home. But you don’t, and he’s almost out of the front door before he turns on his heel and brushes his lips over your hair. 

You feel salty tears drop from your eyes with his touch as he leaves you with an unspoken ultimatum.

You end up texting Jungkook an hour after he left your house, just wanting to make sure he got home safely. It takes him ten minutes from when you sent the text for him to respond with a simple ‘yes’ and you’re too nervous to text him anything other than a simple ‘okay’.

You hold your head in your hands and groan to yourself, rubbing your temples. 

How could you say the things you said to him so easily, without regard for how it might hurt him? Just because the topic of school always set you off- and it always has for the last five years and change. No matter how much time has gone by, how far you’ve come in therapy… there’s always something.

You bury yourself under your covers and sniffle, finally letting yourself cry. A hole starts to unzip inside your chest and all you want to do is bury yourself in it. Your words to him, to the man who always has treated you with nothing but kindness and smiles, ring heavy in your ears.

He’s too good for you. He’s too good for you- he’s too golden and good for you. You’ll only bring him down, won’t you? With all of this baggage that he didn’t sign up for. There was no reason for you to verbally spit in his face like that.

His cold, hurt eyes are haunting. You can’t believe you put that look on his face. You’ve been on the receiving end of it because of your own actions too many times now.

It makes your heart ache and it makes you cry harder into your pillow. You don’t know how long it is that you lay there, but at some point, Grandma crawls into your bed with you and holds your head in her lap. She rubs your back as you cry and sniffle your heart out.

By the time Grandma gently coaxes you to tell her what happened, your chest hurts and your eyes are puffy and rimmed red. She only sighs and lays with you in silence, until she sighs again in that way that you know she’s going to voice her opinion to you.

“He only wants you to have a future that you deserve, even if that means confronting things you don’t want to confront,” Grandma says wisely, “Even if you don’t want to hear it for him.”

“I know. Shit, I know. I hurt him, I hurt him bad,” You mumble, fresh tears pooling in your eyes at the thought of his big, brown eyes looking at you in that heartbroken way.

Another forlorn sigh. “You can fix it. Just talk to him, sweetheart.”

“I know. I will. I don’t think he wants to talk to me right now. I think I should have a therapy appointment first,” You groan, rubbing your eyes, “I don’t know why the thought of school sets me off so easily. And Kook is the last person… I hate that I hurt him.”

“I think you know why the thought of school sets you off,” Grandma says, giving you a knowing look.

It takes you a few days of self reflection (and actively not spiraling into the very tempting black hole of self loathing) to finally understand your reaction to Jungkook suggesting you go back to school. 

It’s not like you haven’t had a similar explosive reaction before- Jin has always tiptoed about it with you. And Grandma has stopped bringing it up because you always shut down when the topic arises.

Perhaps now is a good time to examine why- after all, you’d only hurt your boyfriend’s feelings so much that he can barely stand to speak to you apparently. You both have been speaking normally, sharing chaste kisses when you can but you can tell he’s holding back a little, to give you both the space you need.

It’s only been a few days but you’re so sad without him. Knowing that you hurt him the way you did.

Jungkook feels like he overreacted a bit. He doesn’t want you to figure this out alone- he didn’t mean to just leave. But he couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t stand how… mean you were being. Mostly, he couldn’t stand how he knew you were doing it on purpose, to get him to drop the topic.

He hopes you can come to an understanding with yourself. But he wants you to lean on him when you need to as well.

So when you text him asking if you can come over later that evening, he immediately says yes.

You don’t text Jungkook when you arrive, only knocking at his door. He greets you with surprised eyes and pulls you inside immediately, pulling you into a tight hug right away.

He feels as if it’s been forever since he held you last.

“Hi, honey,” You mumble, feeling tired with longing, “These are for you.” 

It’s a bouquet of some of his favorite flowers, his favorite purples and pinks in your hands and he wants to kiss you in gratitude, but he follows your lead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Jungkook replies and takes your bag after putting the flowers in a vase and takes your hand, leading you to his bedroom. You feel a little nervous, afraid of how much you might have hurt him. Afraid of what he thinks of you now.

But he pulls you into his arms and cradles your face in his hands, the tips of his fingers melting into the warmth of your skin. Your eyes well up with tears for no reason and it stuns you that this man affects you to this degree. Maybe you should be a little more surprised, but you’re not. Not really.

“Hi, baby,” He says quietly and your heart seizes. Jungkook says your name again and pulls you into his chest for another longer hug and you hum into the warmth of his torso. Your hands are hesitant, yearning to touch his arms, his chest, his face. But you have a lot you want to say before any of that so you pull away reluctantly and sit on his bed.

“C’mon, let’s lay,” Jungkook murmurs, pushing his black and grey duvet and squeezing your hand. You feel a little lightheaded but you follow his lead, relaxing in his embrace as he cuddles you from behind. His chin is hooked over your shoulder, arms tight around your waist, lips brushing over your neck. You hold his tattooed forearm, mindlessly drawing lines and circles over his skin.

“I have to say something,” You finally mumble after a few minutes and turn in his arms to face him. His touch is never too far, always around you- always gravitating to you and making you feel warm and safe.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, eyes wider than you’ve possibly ever seen him. You can’t help but want to kiss him, but you hold back. Just until you say what you need to say.

His hands are soothing over your back as he encourages you. So you tell him- you tell him how your last therapy appointment went. You tell him how you’ve reacted this way to anyone who bothered to bring school up to you whether it’s Jin or Grandma. You tell him how the thought of graduate school instantly takes you back to the day you were in class and you received a phone call from the hospital telling you that your father had passed away. 

You tell him how sometimes it feels like you’re living in a movie, a never-ending reel of the worst thing to happen in your near 30 years of life. But…

“It doesn’t feel so terrible these days,” You murmur, “It feels like an ache most times. But not as overwhelming as before… I think maybe I didn’t- I didn’t handle my grief in the best way. And it took me this long to realize it.

“You know, I started realizing it when I saw you that first day. In the office. When I was such a bitch to you-”

Jungkook stops the self-deprecating spill of your lips with a chaste kiss.

“You… you’ve changed me in a lot of ways, Jungkook. And I know we haven’t been together all that long,” You whisper, your voice choked and low, “I always want to be better for you, with you-”

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut as your throat closes up. This is hard for you, to bare your heart out like this. But if there’s anyone you want to be vulnerable for, it’s Jungkook.

“What I’m trying to say is… you’re right. I can’t keep living in the past when I have opportunities to be better and it’ll be hard work to dissect those feelings but… I want to do it. And I’m sorry for what I said, for taking all of that out on you. You didn’t deserve that-”

“I’m sorry, too,” Jungkook murmurs, surprising you, “For telling you that you shouldn’t complain. Of course you should complain. And I want to be the one you complain to. I’m sorry for just… leaving when you were clearly going through something.”

“Jungkook, no,” You shake your head and push his hair back, thumbs gentle over his cheeks, “If you need space from me or for anything… you never need to feel bad or guilty for that.”

“Okay,” He says almost shyly, “I know it must have been hard to talk about this. So, I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, but… I want to make this work with you more than I’m afraid of facing those memories and fears. And just in general, I mean, I just want to try to be better. And you’re worth it, Koo-”

He holds your face in his hands, eyes drawn to yours- stars meeting stars and you sink into his sheets at the calm, welcoming fire in his gaze. His lips are on yours before you can blink, swallowing any potential noise of protest that might come out of your mouth.

It’s only been a few days but you missed Jungkook, you missed his warm smile, the heat of his hands, the comfort of his broad shoulders and the way he fits against you. His nose is pressed to your neck, large hands instantly floating under your shirt to feel as much of you as he can.

“Koo,” You mumble, pushing lightly at his chest, “Are we okay? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. He tastes a bit like his mango chapstick (his current favorite). He leaves his lips near yours, pressing his cheek to yours as much as he can. You thread your fingers through his hair, dancing along his scalp and he sighs contentedly. “We’re okay and I’m okay. I wanna be here with you while we get through this together. Are you okay?”

You hum in agreement and wrap a leg around his waist, suddenly feeling very, very tired. His shirt is loose in your grip- he can tell how exhausted you are. Because he’s exhausted, too. Jungkook only holds you close under his covers and waits for your breaths to even out before falling asleep, too.

When August comes around, the final workshop for the big submission does, too. The last workshop will take place in Tokyo, which you’re excited about. Because you and Jungkook had decided to go to Tokyo to spend the weekend together. Meaning you’d be leaving on Friday evening to reach Tokyo around 9:30 PM.

You’d made sure Grandma would be okay, insisting that she call you or call Seokjin if anything happened. She scoffs at you but reassures you that she will. She says she’ll be spending most of her time with her close friends in the area, anyway.

You’ve only been dating Jungkook for four or five months now, and teetering on the edge of something more for maybe six months. You wonder if it feels too fast- the speed with which you open your bleeding heart up to him should scare you, but it doesn’t. It feels natural with him. 

You’ve both voiced your concerns to each other- fear that you were moving fast and would tire of each other. Or that you were moving too fast to properly assess your feelings.

But both of you agreed that you both felt comfortable and trusted each other enough to speak up if you were uncomfortable. So traveling together for a weekend didn’t feel terribly out of your comfort zone.

You were excited to be with him completely alone, too. Without the stress of work or Taehyung or Grandma to hear you.

Jungkook thinks you both need time alone, too. To see how you’d work as a pair. 

You’d taken it upon yourself to plan a few things around Tokyo for the weekend. You wanted to take him to a few places that Appa used to take you to. Maybe it was too much for a fresh relationship, but you want him to see the parts of you that grew up here, too.

You feel incredibly exposed, your heart and soul on display as you hold Jungkook’s hand in yours. Old memories of Appa and of this park spill from your lips fondly and Jungkook only listens with wide, sparkling eyes. Vulnerability drips from your tongue and he swallows it up eagerly.

A light breeze ruffles through his hair and you stop him mid-stride to stand by the lake. The clear water glimmers with the sun, blue and purple petals floating over the water slowly. You lean over the railing and Jungkook encases you with his arms on either side of you, his chest pressed to your back.

“We used to fly kites here,” You say wistfully, “Right over there-”

You point at the other side of the lake where trees shroud the corners with brightly colored leaves. “And always get food from the food carts right outside the park.

“And this is where I was that one time we were here for the workshop. I came here before that happy hour, too.”

Jungkook kisses your cheek and you lean back, letting your head rest over his shoulder as his arms snake around your waist. There’s nobody around, even though it’s relatively early in the morning. The only sounds that can be heard are your own breaths, and the softness of the birds chirping and the wind whistling.

“The happy hour when the night before I hurt your feelings,” You murmur, “I’m sorry I said everything I said to you. And I’m so sorry I was so… mean and bitter to you in the beginning. You didn’t deserve that.”

You turn in his arms, wanting to see him, and cup his cheek. Letting your thumb trace the mole below his lip and over his cheeks.

“I’m scared,” You confess, “I’m scared that I’ll ruin you and break your heart. Because I’m still in pieces sometimes. I like you so much but shouldn’t I seek love from someone else only after I learn to love myself?”

“I can love you as you learn,” Jungkook murmurs, kissing your forehead, “Self-love doesn’t mean you don’t have to accept love from others, baby.”

Another strong breeze tickles your face, caressing Jungkook almost tenderly. “Sometimes I like to pretend like winds like that are Appa and he’s saying hello,” You say sheepishly with a watery laugh, “I think he likes you.

“I’m scared, Jungkook. But I want to be scared with you,” You exhale, tears dotting your eyes and a small smile on your face. 

Jungkook pulls you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and rubbing your back soothingly. “‘M gonna take care of your heart, princess. You’re always safe with me.”

You immediately burst into tears, because you trust him with your soft heart and you believe him. He only smiles at you, tears rolling down his own cheeks as he thumbs yours away. Jungkook kisses you softly, squeezing your cheeks together and you can taste the saltiness of your tears on your tongue. You deepen the kiss quickly, pouring all of your trust and respect for him onto your lips.

He drinks you up easily and bends his knees a bit to scoop you by your thighs and lift you up, even spinning you a bit as his lips stay pressed to yours. You pull away first with a dazed, watery giggle and push his hair away from his forehead to press a kiss there.

You feel weightless and airy in his arms, your hands steady on his shoulders as he spins with you.

You could love this man- you already love his wide, crinkly-eyed smile, the way the tips of his ears turn pink when you fluster him, the way he is so considerate and charming. 

“Jungkook,” You mumble, pushing his hair back again, “Take me back to our hotel, baby.”

Jungkook can’t keep his hands off of you, not with the dim lights of the hotel lobby making your hair shine, not when you stand in front of him in the elevator and lean into him as his arm lazily wraps around your waist to pull you closer. His nose tickles your neck as he drops kisses to your cheek, smiling against your skin when you laugh lightly. 

The elevator dings. You both stumble out, holding hands as if you’re love drunk on each other and it’s not 7:30 in the morning.

You push him against the door once you key yourself inside, impatient and hands wandering. A choked noise escapes his lips but it melts into a moan when you press into him. 

Jungkook can’t keep his hands off of you, not with the way you breathe his name out as if it’s spicy honey on your tongue. Your legs remain wrapped around his waist as he holds you by your thighs, his hands digging into them. You’re secure in his arms- the fact that he can hold you up so steadily, so easily has you rolling your hips into his and moaning into his mouth unashamedly.

“Shit,” Jungkook groans into your ear, a little desperate, “I want you so bad, baby.”

You hum in agreement, lips pressed to the spot behind his ear. The spot that you had quickly discovered in your relationship that he liked. He stumbles for half a second before dropping you to the large bed and hovering over you.

Jungkook impatiently tugs at your blouse, trying his best to unbutton it as carefully as possible. He curses under his breath, shooting you a playful glare when you giggle at him. He unclasps your bra easily and once you shuck it off to the side, his mouth is warm and wet against your bare chest. Your giggles turn into soft sighs of his name.

Ever since he had realized how much you like the feeling of his mouth on your tits, he couldn’t get enough. You’re so sensitive, almost all the time, and this time is no different.

You always try to push him away but coax him back for more.

Your small hands are ghosting over his chest, glazing over the ridges and dips of his abs and of his pecs. You tug on his shirt and pull it up and over his head, tossing it to the side to join your own clothes. His fingers are heated as you lightly scratch over the trail of hair dipping into his shorts from his navel, but you only tease him and palm him through his clothes.

You’re so impatient. You unbutton his shorts clumsily and gently yank his boxers and his shorts down his thighs, always surprised that he’s almost completely hard already. But it doesn’t take much for him to get hard with you. 

You spit into your hands and wrap a hand around his cock, lazily stroking him.

Jungkook’s eyes are wide, breaths staggered at the sight of your freshly painted glossy lilac nails around his cock. 

“Koo,” You mumble, “So big, Koo…”

Your face is warm as you meet his darkened, lust blown eyes. Jungkook catches the sliver of determination in your own eyes as you continue to stroke him- you’re determined to have him in your mouth.

The last few times you’ve tried haven’t gone so well- every time you’d tried taking him in your mouth, you’ve always coughed and gagged heavily to the point of your eyes watering and Jungkook felt bad and told you that you didn’t have to blow him.

“You don’t- oh, baby,” Jungkook groans, biting his bottom lip and struggling not to close his eyes when you take him past your lips. You try your best to control your breathing through your nose and alternate between teasing him with kitten licks and stroking him.

You look up at him from your spot on your knees and take him a little deeper, just like he taught you. Your eyes are already watering, vision starting to go blurry but you’re nothing if not determined. Your hands are loose around his strong, muscular thighs and you squeeze.

“Like that, princess,” Jungkook mumbles, watching you with half lidded eyes, trying to stop himself from fucking your mouth.

But maybe you want that.

“More tongue, baby,” Jungkook encourages, “Don’t forget to breathe through your nose.”

You hum around his cock, the sound inadvertently causing him to thrust into your mouth. But you squeeze his thighs in encouragement, wordlessly telling him that he can fuck your mouth if he wants to.

“Mmm, you feel so good,” Jungkook moans, hand cradling your cheek and wiping a stray tear, “Look so pretty like this…”

“You can take me, princess,” Jungkook murmurs, and you take a few more inches of him down your throat without gagging, “Good girl…”

Your belly flips at his praise and you’re eager for more to spill from his pretty, reddened lips. Jungkook curses, his voice low as his thighs tremble with each stroke of your hand and each pull of your mouth. He can’t get enough of you like this, you on your knees with wide, watery eyes just for him. Just for him.

His dream girl.

Jungkook abruptly pushes you away from his cock, saliva trailing from your lips with a pop! You look at him in confusion but he unbuttons your shorts quickly and tugs your panties away, hardly appreciating the new pretty purple panties you’d bought specifically for this trip. You hardly have an opportunity to pout about it, before he sharply kisses you, molding his hips to yours.

He swipes his hand over your pussy, getting a feel for your wetness. You’re so wet already, just from kissing him and from having his cock in your mouth.

Jungkook groans into your neck, biting your skin lightly and you gasp when he slides into your wet warmth easily. Wrapping your legs around his waist and reaching behind him to squeeze his ass, you kiss moans of his name into his heated skin.

“Koo,” You mumble raspily, breath hitching when he stills inside you, “I want you-”

“Gonna take care of you, my dream girl,” Jungkook says softly, cupping your face. Your heart stutters in your chest at the sincerity of his kiss, the stars in his eyes and the adoration in his touch. 

Something sweet is at the tip of your tongue but you swallow it down, instead losing yourself in his touch along your hips, your tits, your thighs. Anywhere he can reach you.

Jungkook presses his forehead to yours and rocks into you, again and again and again.

“One more, princess,” Jungkook says hoarsely, thumbing away your stray tears, “Gimme one more-”

You whine but it quickly turns into a broken moan of his name when he gently rolls his hips into yours and rubs your clit with his thumb. Your eyes are glazed over but focused on him, a thin sheen of sweat coated over your soft skin.

“I can’t…” You mumble, wrapping your arm around his shoulders and turning your face to the side. But you both know that you can. Jungkook’s eyes dip to the place where you’re both connected in between your legs and marvels at your puffy pussy. You widen your legs further despite the slight soreness already settling in for him to get a better look. His fingers ghost over your pussy and you shiver at the oversensitivity that his mere touch brings.

“Yes, baby, you can,” Jungkook says softly, “Nice and slow, just like this.”

“O-okay,” You reply, tipping your chin up for a kiss. You feel like jelly, like you’re floating on a cloud, with Jungkook right by your side. When you finally do cum, with soft, sinful murmurs of his voice in your ear, it’s quiet and warm. Leaving you buzzing from head to toe.

You clench around him, the feeling of his cock inside you becoming almost too much to bear. But you don’t want him to pull out, just yet. After all, your baby hasn’t cum and you can feel how hard he is.

“Koo,” You murmur, threading your nails up and down his very defined back, “Baby, you feel so good, make me feel so good…”

You won’t lie, sometimes the dirty talk feels clumsy to you as it comes out of your mouth. You think Jungkook is better at it than you are, and you’ve told him that, too. He only denies it.

You pull him down closer to you, your breath fanning across his cheeks. You squeeze around him despite your own sensitivity and he groans out loud, eyes closed. Jungkook sits you up and brings you into his lap with his cock still inside of you, throbbing with the need to cum.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers gentle against his scalp. You lean forward and nip his earlobe, giggling when his hips stutter. Your mischievous touch dips down his chest, scratching at his navel.

Jungkook abruptly cums into the condom, possibly harder than he ever has, with your gentle, feathery touches and your soft murmurs in his ear. He moans your name and holds you close, arms tight around you and keeping you plastered against his chest as he rides his high out.

“Holy shit,” You breathe with a slow smile. Jungkook hums and lays you on your back, laying with you for a second before pulling out of you and discarding the condom on shaky legs. You’d make a comment about how cute his ass looks, but you’re too tired to. You get cozy under the covers, watching him flit around the room with sleepy eyes. 

It’s hardly ten AM and you’re ready to go back to sleep.

You must have drifted off at some point, because Jungkook is wrapped around you, his head on your chest. He’d cleaned you up, too and you drowsily kiss his forehead before slipping back to sleep.

After all, the rest of the weekend is still yours. Work doesn’t begin in Tokyo until Monday.

tags: @koo-zy

[mattholicguilt]

cats in the cradle by Duck_Life

Fandoms: Supernatural [Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply] Words: 1,745

Tags: Claire Novak & Patience Turner, Cats, Psychic Abilities, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Friendship, Found Family, claire novak will see a stray animal and be like, is anyone gonna project onto this, and not wait for an answer

Summary: Claire helps Patience hone her abilities. Patience helps Claire track down a cat.

Written for SPN Women Week Day 1. Prompt: "skills"

Bub is missing again.

“Bub” is the name of a mean stray cat missing a chunk from his ear. Claire’s been leaving cat food out for the ugly old thing for weeks now, and whenever he doesn’t come running she panics.

So, for the third time, Patience finds herself enlisted in the search for a cat that Claire doesn’t even technically own. “If it’s gonna bother you this much every time,” Patience says, “why don’t you just take it in? You know, get him his shots, a collar, a microchip.”

Claire makes a face at her before turning back to look at the road. She’s been driving around the neighborhood slowly, scoping out every shrub and checking under every parked car. “Bub doesn’t want to be chained down,” she explains. “He’s a free spirit.”

Alright, well, Patience is too tired to unpack that right now. She lets it lie and looks out the passenger’s side window, alert for any signs of movement. “Maybe he was never a stray at all,” she tries, “and his owner finally tracked him down and brought him home.”

“Do you know that?” Claire asks.

Claire’s always asking if Patience knows things— what happened on Jody’s date last weekend, what Dean’s middle name is, whether or not Alex is the one who ate the last ice cream sandwich in the freezer. Patience keeps trying to explain that she can only see the future. “Psychic” might be a misnomer— her abilities are precognitive, not telepathic.

She basically gets previews, little spoilers about what’s to come. And though she’s been working at it, she can’t seem to get her psychic abilities to do the kind of reading and divination her grandma could do. She gets glimpses with no context, no backstory.

Missouri Moseley could walk into a room and feel every ounce of heartbreak, grief, hope and faith in the people standing there. Patience can barely pick up on it when Alex and Claire are pissed at each other.

Still, Claire brings her along whenever the cat goes missing. Seems to think her ESP can home in on missing animals. Patience keeps telling her otherwise, and yet here she is, once again. That’s the trouble with having no social life and no better plans.

Maybe she should join a book club.

Claire rounds the corner, eyes darting around for any sight of the mangy cat. The first time Bub vanished from Claire’s sight, all the neighbors seemed intent to help. They explained they hadn’t seen the cat, but hoped Claire would find him soon and offered baked goods and platitudes in the meantime.

But these things have an expiration date. You can only lose the cat so many times before the routine gets old and the neighbors lose interest.

“My educated guess ?” Patience sighs. “The cat’ll come back when it gets hungry. Just like before.”

Claire makes a tch sound and mouths “educated guess” under her breath. Apparently, because Patience is psychic she’s supposed to be omniscient. “So which is it?” Claire says. “Is he back with his ‘real’ owners or is he going to come home when he gets hungry?”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Patience says. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m helping you.”

“... Yeah. You are,” Claire says, ducking her head. “Sorry.” Her eyes scan the road ahead, looking for the telltale streak of a cat darting out from under a parked car or vanishing around a tree trunk. Still nothing. “Hey, Patience the Pet Psychic,” Claire says. “You should write that down, that’d be a great children’s book.”

“Very funny,” Patience says, rolling her eyes. She’s silent for a few moments and then says, “Cla-aire the Monster Slayer.”

“That doesn’t really rhyme.”

“Sure it does.”

When the sky darkens and the streetlights flick on, Claire drives them back to the house, Bub-less and dejected. “I’m sure he’s fine,” Patience tries.

Claire bunches her shoulders, the collar of her leather jacket looking like a cat’s raised hackles. Maybe, Patience thinks, that’s the connection— Claire in many ways resembles an angry cat. She and Bub might be kindred spirits.

“I’m just tired,” Claire says, yanking the keys out of the ignition. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Patience considers pointing out that Claire could at least ask instead of just assuming , considers reminding Claire that she has her own life outside of playing “pet psychic.”

But she doesn’t actually have anything to do tomorrow. Or the rest of the week. And as futile as it feels riding around looking for a runaway cat, it is something to do. And it makes Claire feel better.

And… straining her psychic muscles to pick up on any trace of the old tomcat is at least better than doing nothing and letting her abilities degrade. Over the last year, she’s been trying to find ways to train her brain, shape her psychic visions into something useful.

Jody’s supportive, but she, like most people, doesn’t know anything about being psychic. Kaia’s got a fraught relationship with her own special skills and usually chooses not to talk to Patience about seeing the future, and Alex is so entrenched in nursing and hunting that the few “normal” moments she gets at home are devoted to unwinding and relaxing.

Which makes Claire Patience’s most ardent supporter in developing her psychic abilities. A very grouchy, blonde and mostly clueless Yoda. What she lacks in background knowledge she makes up for in persistence.

“Hey, Patience, guess which hand?” Claire will ask, holding the last fortune cookie behind her back. “Hey, Patience, what number am I thinking of?” Claire will ask, perched on the arm of the couch. “Hey, Patience, heads or tails?” Claire will ask, flipping a coin to catch it in midair.

That’s not how it works. That’s not how any of it works— Patience can’t predict things at will. Her psychic visions operate on a schedule of their own, with no concern for Patience’s own convenience or comfort. One minute, she’s watching shitty reality TV while Alex nods off on her shoulder. The next, she’s watching Jody narrowly avoid being bitten by a vampire.

It’s a lot different from just guessing a coin toss. Still. Patience can’t help but think that her grandma would’ve passed all of Claire’s little tests with flying colors.

That night, Patience doesn’t dream about anything— at least, not anything useful. She has an anxiety dream about being lost in Aldi, roaming the aisles with increasing frustration. But nothing about the future. Nothing about Bub the cat.

She’s pouring herself a bowl of cereal when Claire stomps inside, the porch door swinging shut behind her. “Still gone,” she says darkly, grabbing the cereal box and her own bowl. “Food hasn’t been touched.”

“Claire,” Patience says, “why don’t we just go to the SPCA? You can get yourself a cat that’s not, you know—”

“What? Not damaged? Not a lost cause? Not hard to love?”

Whoa, Patience wants to say. “A cat that’s not missing ,” she finishes. “We can get him his shots and a collar and everything.”

“I don’t— I don’t just want some random cat,” Claire says. “I want to find Bub. I want… I want to find him and bring him home. I have to bring him home.”

“I know,” Patience says, and just like that she does . She does know.

She knows everything, feels everything, the aching loss in Claire’s bones that’s both recent and so, so old. Memories of Claire hitchhiking and stealing and conning her way through the country, desperately chasing a mother who was desperately chasing a dead man. Jimmy Novak’s voice in her head, his face seen through Claire’s eyes, Please, Castiel, take me. Just take me. Again, his forehead pressed to hers, Take care of your mom, okay, bub?

Bub.

Patience looks at Claire. Sees her, in a way she hasn’t been able to see anyone before. “Bub… ‘bub’ is what your dad used to call you.”

Claire squints at her. “Uh. Yeah,” she says. “Wait, I didn’t… I didn’t tell you that.”

“No,” Patience breathes, meeting her eyes across the kitchen, “you didn’t.”

Slowly, a grin spreads across Claire’s face. “Holy shit , Patience, you just… ? You just did that. You, like, read me.”

“I, uh, I didn’t know. That I could do that,” Patience says, caught between marveling at this new development and feeling self-conscious at intruding on Claire’s emotions and her past.

Claire doesn’t seem put off at all. She’s actually bouncing with excitement. “We gotta test this out. Oh my God. It’s like a whole new Pokemon evolution for you.”

“It’s not really. Like that. In any way.”

But Claire is already humming the Pokemon theme song. She grabs her car keys. “Alright, well, let’s go look for that cat. I’ve got a good feeling about today.”

“I read you, Claire, that doesn’t mean I can read the cat,” Patience reminds her.

“Yeah, yeah, but you can still help me look,” Claire says. “I don’t need your third eye, just the two on your face.”

“That’s… yeah, fine,” Patience acquiesces. To be honest, she’s buzzing with the knowledge of what she can do with her powers. If Claire’s happy to be her test subject, she’ll spend all day with the girl. “Just let me grab a coffee.”

“Ooh, me too. Wait!” She wiggles her fingers toward Patience. “Do you Know how I like my coffee?”

“Half-and-half. And enough sugar to kill you,” Patience reels off. “But that’s not because I’m psychic. I’ve just seen you fix yourself coffee before.”

“Y’know, I think the line between ‘psychic’ and ‘observant’ is thinner than you might think.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Patience says, and then pretends to stumble backward toward the table, overacting the part. “Oh, oh, I’m having a vision… I see you … making coffee for us…”

Claire rolls her eyes, but she dutifully sets her keys down and busies herself with getting the travel mugs out. “That’s not gonna work for everything, you know.”

“Aaah I see you bringing Jody’s suit to the dry cleaners next week. I also see you driving me to the science museum.”

“Hilarious.”

Patience smiles at her. It’s nice to have someone else get excited about her powers. It’s nice to be allowed to be excited about this, to learn a new skill and have it mean something good to someone besides herself. She doesn’t feel like a freak or a failure. She just feels… like a psychic.

She feels like her grandma would be proud.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Inked

Still on hiatus. But I found an old piece of writing and I revamped it just a smidge! It was originally published in 2018 on calumh-excess. Which is now deactivated. Hooray for finding pieces!

Calum's been watching Jay for a while. She's cute, talented, but a bit of mystery. Should he really give into her? What will it take for him to admit he has a crush?

Enjoy my masterlist (on hiatus)

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He watched her sometimes for far too long. The way her tongue stuck out as she pulled the skin and her hand worked steadily with the needle made it hard for him to resist. Her face always seemed to catch the harsh fluorescent lights and reflect it back so that it twinkled against her skin. A slight sheen, but nothing just of ethereal. He wasn’t even interested in any new ink, not seriously anyway. He had slowed on the ink train, but the shop his tattoo artist owned was a nice place to hang out sometimes. When he wanted to get out of his house but didn’t want to actually go somewhere, he could hang out here, listening to the buzz of the tattoo gun, poke his hand at trying a design here or there. They weren't great. He hadn't considered him this kind of artist, but the shop felt like a second home.

Besides, having her around was a more than welcomed bonus.

He wasn’t even sure what it was about her. She showed up about a year and a half ago, under an apprenticeship. Calum’s artist was unsure of her, much like everyone else that asked to work under him. A hazard of the job, according to the job, according to Calum's artist. However, her drawings spoke volumes; the colors and line work were impeccable. She had talent and knew it without being cocky about it. Well, sometimes she wasn’t. Calum watched her run into the occasional asshole that tried to belittle her; she always put her foot down in those situations. He didn’t fault her.

Today’s no different. When Calum walks in, he greets the guy at the front desk, eyes searching for her. He spots her in the back with her oversized frames creating a small glare over her brown eyes. He never quite got the appeal of the grandma-shaped glasses trend, but on her, they worked. She looked wise but soft. The glass pulled him in, felt like she was seeing into his soul. Maybe she was; maybe the pain made people more vulnerable than they anticipated--entrusting someone, a stranger in some ways, to permanently mark you and not fuck it up. Whatever the reason, looking at her felt timeless. Like she had seen it all, and you are just waiting for you to spill all the secrets.

“You finally going to get some new ink?” Calum’s artist teases.

Calum shakes his head, turning his attention away from her. “You finally took her training wheels off?”

“Your girlfriend’s got mad skills. I couldn’t baby her forever. Jay works hard on each piece, learned fast. Got a steady ass hand and pretty gentle for handling a needle.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, because you haven’t hardly even talked to her. Go for it, you wuss. What’s the worst she says? No?”

Calum exhales a chuckle. "I mean, the worst she stabs me with the tattoo gun. But considering the ink I'm already sporting, I doubt that's really all that bad.”

“Jay would not do that unless you asked for it, ff course. But really, go on, ask her out.”

Calum glances back at Jay. It’s a nickname. No one in the shop calls her by her full name. The only reason Calum heard it was when a client came asking for her. Jay was quick to correct them.

She wipes, clearing excess ink, before dipping back into the small cup. Jay smiles up at her client. Calum's sure they appreciate the reprise. Getting tattoos weren't always fun, but bearable enough to forget about it and get more.

Calum turns his gaze away. “I recommended you to a friend,” he says, hoping that he’ll escape the teasing. It’s not likely to happen. But at least he tries to minimize the ridicule.

"I appreciate it. Are they a first-timer?"

"A second-timer, but they're visiting town and want some new ink. I figured best not to fuck them over."

The two men laugh before Calum's escorted back to look through some new designs. Just in case something sparks his interest. Calum's visit is supposed to be short, but there's not much else on his to-do list for the day. He could kill a few hours here.

When Calum comes out from the back, after spending too much time pretending art was ever a talent of his, he looks for Jay again. She’s not in her corner, nor is she at the front. Calum shrugs, figuring she might have gone for lunch, or home depending.

As Calum walks to his car, he checks his phone. Nothing major's happened.

“Leaving so soon?” A voice states. Calum knows that voice, a little gravelly, mostly sweet. He’s dreamt of it every so often. He prays to hear it when he visits the shop.

He turns to Jay, who leans against the bricks. A vape is wrapped in her fingers. “Gotta get some dinner, maybe make a run to the grocery store," Calum returns. "I've gotten lazy."

She nods. “This reminds me that I can't survive off BLTs forever," she laughs.

"You could try, but I think you'd need other vegetables and some fruit in that mix too."

She pushes up on her glass with a nod. "Ah, yes, gotta get the whole food pyramid." It goes silent between them and Calum gives another nod, raising a few fingers to signal his departure while still keeping his phone in a secure enough grip.

"Hey, wait!" Jay calls out again, taking a half step forward. Calum turns to her. "Can I give you something before you leave?”

Calum nods, not trusting his voice. What would she give him? She nods back to the front door, taking back that initial half-step. “It's inside. Give me like two minutes.”

She disappears inside and Calum stands, his phone still in his hands, staring at the spot she once stood. Just as quickly as she disappeared, Jay reappears. In hand is her portfolio. She flips through before stopping and slides the heavy-duty drawing paper out.

Calum stares down at the green and black drawing. It’s his face, for the most part, that stares back at him. It’s distorted by a crystal ball that glows green. Inside are some instruments and something else, but right now he can’t really put it all together. His eyes keep moving over the lightning bolt, the crystal ball, the uncanniness of his face on a piece of paper, his three-dimensional face somehow translated perfectly into a 2-D space.

“Holy shit, this is amazing,” he breathes. “Thank you,” he says looking back up to her.

She shrugs with a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“Seriously, this is so fucking awesome. I’m going to frame it,” he gushes. He’s too excited to be nervous, or be embarrassed. "What are the dimensions?"

“I'm just really glad you don’t find it too creepy. I was watching you a couple weeks ago when you stopped by. It just sort hit me, the image of the crystal ball and lightning bolt; I had to draw it,” Jay elaborates. "And it's 8.5 by 11--standard printer paper size."

Calum shakes his head, staring over the drawing again. It feels so delicate suddenly in his hands. It’s almost like Jay recognizes the change in his handling. She shuffles her load in her hands and pulls out an empty plastic over. “Here,” she laughs handing it over. “So it doesn’t smudge or anything if you're worried."

Calum slides it in. “Thank you. Again. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome, Calum. Good luck with your grocery store trip and dinner,” Jay nods and then heads back inside. Calum watches the way the denim stretches across her hips, the way her hair billows just a little in the breeze of her strut.

For a moment, Calum can't move. The weight of the paper in his hand is hardly ounces, but it holds him--traps him to the point of the sidewalk. Jay thought enough of him to draw him. What did it all mean? Should he have found the courage to ask her out? He could walk back inside. But what if she didn't like him like that? Would it be too weird?

Calum blinks up into the hardly settling sun and thinks to himself, the second he can come back here, it better be with a bit more courage and possibly a gift certificate. No one can be made about free food, right?

It’s months before Calum can visit the shop again. The tour is a whirlwind and he only gets a few days off between legs. Not long enough to get back home or feel like he had any energy to drive out to the shop. But now that he's settled back in at home, he knows exactly where he's going.

It’s not his typical practice to just walk in and ask for a tattoo. But given the ink already on him, worse things could happen. When he pulls open the door, he notices it's kind of slow. Jay greets him at the front desk. “Hey, stranger,” she grins.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks in return.

“Pretty good. How was it? The tour? See any cool places?”

He nods. “Yeah, got to explore a few cities.” He taps his fingers against the wooden desk. “Do you have an appointment anytime soon?”

Jay shakes her head. “My 2 o’clock had to reschedule. I’m here until 4 before I see anyone. Why? What's tickling your fancy?”

“I was wondering if you could do a tat for me? I know this is very last minute and if you need me to come in another day this week, I totally can.” His words run into each other; his palms start to sweat. He wipes them on his jeans.

Jay laughs, holding up a hand. “Whoa, pump the brakes. One, what are you looking for?”

“You know that drawing you did for me?” She nods. “I was kind of hoping you could create something with just the crystal ball and lightning bolt. I know the drawing itself is kind of big.”

A grin lifts her cheeks; Calum’s heart settles for a second. “I think I can do that. Where are you thinking to put it?”

“Inner bicep.” He watches her gaze land on his arm. The t-shirt is baggy, he at least thought about that with enough advance.

“Give me 30 minutes to come up with some sketches.” Jay pushes away from the front desk and heads to the back, but not for calling to the shop to watch the front desk.

Calum slides into the seat at the front, leg bouncing as he settles down. This isn’t even his first tattoo, but the nerves flood his body. His scalp tingles. The thirty minutes move by too fast, but also too slow simultaneously. The seconds feel like hours but move by milliseconds.

Eventually, Jay resurfaces, waving him over to her. He walks back and looks at the sketches she places out in front of him. There are two different ones. One’s a bit more minimalistic, which is her style, with the lightning bolt in the background and a simple crystal ball at the point. The other is a bit bolder, the ball has a slightly warped edge where it connects to the bolt. It looks like the bolt is melting the glass ball.

“I can whip up more if neither one of them are quite right. But I wasn’t sure if it wanted something a bit more crisp and sharp or not,” Jay explains.

Calum admits that most of his tattoos are more cleaned up and sharp. He likes the idea of playing with a new style. “I like the second one,” he says, tapping it.

“You sure?” He nods, he’s never been more sure of something in his life. “Which bicep? Let me line it up and make sure it’ll fit.”

Calum lifts his left arm up for her. Laying the stencil over his skin, Jay notes she has to make a couple small tweaks. But after that, she’ll be ready. They discuss full color, or just outline, or shading, price, and a few other details before Jay concludes with, “Hop in my seat. I’ll be there soon.”

Calum nods and walks over to her station. Her stuff is already laid out, probably for her canceled 2 o’clock. It’s about five more minutes before Jay returns with the final stencil. Calum rolls up the sleeve of his shirt before she places the stencil. Happy with the placement, he stretches out on the table.

Jay gets herself ready before she brings the needle over his skin. The first puncture always makes him jolt a little, the first jab of pain causes his heart to race. “Do you plan on relaxing now that you're back home?"

"Yeah, for a little bit. I might go see my family, but I know we'll be back in the studio soon. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"I mean exciting things happen every day at this place. But it's not like I could recall them all now."

Calum hums, acknowledging her statement, but not quite sure what to say next. Luckily, Jay's faster to fill in the silence. "You do realize you didn’t have to get a tattoo to have a real conversation with me?” Jay teases, pushing up her glasses.

Calum’s cheeks heat. “It’s not like that,” he chuckles.

“Well, that’s how it seems.”

“You were always busy when I stopped by. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Not always,” she laughs. “But it’s alright. You’re going to have plenty of time while I’m stabbing you to say all those things you didn’t.”

A chuckle escapes him; of course, Jay would have this sense of humor. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m paying so much for people just to stab me and act as a therapy. Maybe I am a masochist.”

“So are a lot of people. Sometimes you just take the emotional pain out in the physical realm.”

“I always imagined people that worked in a tattoo shop to be more heavily tatted,” Calum hums, taking in scattered ink across her arms and one pokes out from the V in her t-shirt.

“I focused it more on my back and legs and not so much my arms. I’m getting there. So, why this one today?”

Calum goes to shrug, but stops himself as he hears the gun nearing his skin again. “Not really sure. It looked cool. I guess it also serves to remind me that fate isn’t linear. There’s going to be twists and turns, maybe some trouble. And that’s okay. Don’t be afraid of the journey. Also, it's really fucking cool art.”

Jay hums her laugh, “Why thank you. Wise brain you got there. Besides, it seems like you also have people you keep close to you.” She eyes the initials and the name under the bird. “Whoever they are to you, I hope you all stay close.”

“Those are my parents' initials,” he explains. “And my sister’s name. They’ve been with me through it all--I love them dearly.”

“So sweet. I wish my parents and I were closer. I tattooed my brother’s jersey number on me. It was my first tattoo.”

“What did he play?”

“Soccer, or for your kind, football.”

“Hey now, it’s played with the feet, it makes much more sense.”

Jay laughs, wiping off excess ink. She cocks her head to the side a little, then goes back in for the black ink. “I’m only teasing. Us Americans are so dumb sometimes. Like why is our football not called something else? Literally, the only thing that happens with the feet is the running. We carry the fucking ball.”

“I’ve wondered that as well!” he laughs. "Does your brother still play?"

“Yeah, the whole knucklehead still plays for his college.”

“What position?”

Jay laughs. “I'll have you know my job as the older sister is to show up and cheer him on. Something defensive? I don’t remember off the top my head.”

“I’ll give you credit for that. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“He does until he sees with me in face paint on and then he’s acting like he doesn’t know me. Oh, oh wait, I think remember what he does. It’s defensive,” she pauses, lips pursed together, “something fielder.”

“Defensive midfielder?” he asks.

“Yeah, that. But like I said, I show up when I can and scream. That’s it. When he’s old enough, I’ll buy him a beer after his games too.”

“How old is he?”

“Nineteen, we’re three years apart.”

“The only sibling you have?”

“Nah, got a baby sister too. She’s fifteen. If you’re impressed by my eyeshadow thank her. Because she’s the one that taught me how to do it.”

Calum finds himself staring at the red and gold coloring her eyelids. “It looks really nice,” he breathes.

“Why thank you.” She pauses to bats her eyelashes. “I even managed to get those godforsaken falsies on right too. They look good, but the raise hell.”

“I think you’re the first woman I’ve met in LA that’s not obsessed with makeup,” he notes.

“Oh, you were doing so well. There are a lot of people of who aren’t huge in the makeup scene.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to backtrack. “I’m sorry. In my experience, it’s not like that. They’re hiding the fact they aren’t wearing makeup--embarrassed by it or something.”

Jay nods, pushing up her glasses yet again. “Yeah, it’s not easy. We’re told to be perfect, but in reality, we’re just like everyone. We’re human, imperfect and flaw-full and beautiful.”

“Not in spite of, but because of.”

“Exactly,” she chuckles. Silences settles in around them. Calum wonders why she said she was closer to her family, but the way she talks about her siblings doesn’t match. She’s cheering her brother on at his game; she’s sitting down to learn makeup with and from her sister.

“Can I ask a bit of a personal question?” he asks.

“What kind of personal? Do I get a lifeline?”

Cal exhales a laugh. “You can always say no.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Why say that you’re family isn’t close but you clearly take a lot of pride in your siblings?”

“An observant one on my table, I see. It’s my parents. They don’t like that I’m pansexual, say I’m going to hell. My siblings don’t fucking care. I’m still the crazy-ass sister that loves and supports them.”

With a hum of acknowledgment from Calum, it goes quiet again around them for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He knows it doesn’t really fix anything for her; it doesn’t take away the potential years of her suffering. It’s the only thing he can offer her though. It feels right to say.

“Oh, no need for you to be sorry. It’s not like you threw me out of the house.”

“Ouch. You’re making it though right?”

“Yeah, now that I work here, things are on the up and up.”

“That’s good; I’m glad.”

“Thanks.”

“Favorite tattoo you’ve done?” he asks, wanting to hear her voice again.

“This one,” she laughs. “Though I had someone ask for a pin-up witch, which was also pretty fucking cool to do.”

Calum remembers seeing that on her Instagram. “That one was amazing! Her lips looked so good; I know that’s a strange thing to admit.”

“Don’t worry. I am quite proud of that myself.”

“Do you have a favorite tattoo on you?”

“The blue jay on my shoulder. My parents would take me on walks when I was still an infant. According to the legend, while they were sitting on a park bench a blue jay landed on me. I didn’t cry; it didn’t hurt me. It just landed for a second and then flew off. They called me Blue Jay ever since. I just shortened the nickname as I got older.” She gives one more wipe. “Finished. Check it out.”

Calum sits up, walking over to the mirror. He grins seeing the melting ball sitting against his skin. He grins over to Jay. “It looks amazing. Thank you.”

“No problem.” They head back over to her station. Jay cleans it and wraps the fresh ink. Calum carefully gets his sleeve back down with a little help from Jay. He pays their agreed price with his card, but slides two fifties over to her. “You do know that’s more than double a twenty percent tip right?”

Calum shrugs. “Is it? I’m bad at math,” he grins. “Treat your sister to a new palette or something. Treat yourself to something.”

“Thank you. Now next time, you come by, I hope we don’t talk while I’m stabbing you repeatedly.”

Calum shakes his head, a grin still on his face. Of course. He had forgotten to get the gift certificate. But possibly asking Jay to dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea. “Give me your number and I can promise the next time we talk, it won’t in your chair.”

She holds out her hand, waiting. He hands her his phone, after unlocking it. She puts her number in. She goes to hand the phone back but just before his fingers touch it, she draws it back. "I mean it--actually text me. I adore memes, dogs, TikToks, your favorite songs."

"I'll actually talk to you. I promise."

Jay hands over his phone with a smile. Calum steps outside the glass doors. Why should he wait? He could do it now. For fuck sake, the last hour had been the groundwork for a clear sign a date was absolutely an option. His fingers hovering over her name. He taps it, and then presses for a call. Holding the phone to his ear, he listens to it ring for a second.

“I can still see you, you know?” Jay laughs.

Calum turns around, catching her leaning against the front desk. “I told you the next time we talked you wouldn’t be inking me.”

“What can I help you with, Calum?”

“Dinner, tonight-- I may have ordered too many appetizers for just little old me."

Her laugh trickles in over the speaker. She drops her head, giving it a shake before looking back up to him in the afternoon sun. “I think I can help you with that. Give me the time and place."

Calum rattles off the name of a restaurant that he had been wanting to try. Nothing too upscale, but not something that would be too casual. "How does 8 sound?"

"I love it there. I'll see you at 8."

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Calum.” As he walks to his car, his phone buzzes yet again. This time a text from his artist, I’m being fucking replaced, I see. I can’t be too mad since it’s Jay. Calum laughs as he slides into his car. Maybe he is getting replaced; maybe he’s not. Calum’s not sure. He is sure that he needs to figure out if he can make reservations and what to wear for tonight.

[johnkrrasinski]

having an affair with dad’s best friend!bucky

full masterlist

Warning: implied smut, age gap, mentions of death, a tiny bit of angst.

Summary: moving to a small town was hell but who would’ve thought that it would bring you heaven?    

You recently just moved to the small town from the big city. Being a city girl and having your superficial needs constantly fulfilled, moving to this small town makes you feel isolated and bored constantly. You were used to living in a big house and going to NYC’s best private school due to your parents’ fortune, but because your grandmother was ill, your parents decided that they had to move back home to be closer to your grandma to watch over her.

Your parents held a barbecue party in their backyard and invited some of their old friends. At least the one who still lived in that godforsaken town. You planned to stay in your bedroom the whole time because you couldn’t care less about interacting with your parents’ old mates, but they forced you to join and so you did, and that’s whet you met him.

Your dad introduced you to one of his old mates. They were best mates in high school. 

 “Hey there, the name’s Bucky.” He smiled flirtatiously.

Holy shit. 

You tried to hold your composure but you were internally starstruck. The man was gorgeous.

It turns out that you were neighbours. He lived right next to you and that’s why he and your dad were so close, they practically grew up together. 

One time, you were hanging out at the local diner with your new friends and you had to leave since it was nearing your curfew. The diner wasn’t that far from your house so you walked. 

 Although it caused a lot of whining out of you, having used to being driven to everywhere.

The crisp autumn air made you tuck your hands into your pocket as you walked home. 

Then you heard a honking sound as a car pulled up on the road.

“Hey, y/n, right?” 

It was Bucky, he had a smile on his face as his window was opened.  

He offered you a ride and he was on his way home himself. You were a bit reluctant at first but eventually, you got in. 

You had a small talk on the way to home. He spoke about your dad, this town, and asked you about school. He wasn’t shy when dropping a few flirtatious comments though.

“Well, with a face like yours, I’m sure the boys would treat you nicely.”  

“You’d know about that, don't you Mr. Barnes?” 

“Just call me Bucky, sweetheart.” He winked.

You had to control your breathing so that he wouldn’t notice the way it changed when he did that. 

He dropped you right in front of your house and said goodbye. He waited until you were inside to park his car in his garage. You dreamt of him that night, and not exactly an innocent one.

Days turned into months, and every time you saw each other, you got a little bit bolder. You’d sneak around to come over to his place and have a ton of hot and heavy sex.

To say he was good in bed was an understatement. He was a god. He knew how to work your body inside out, how to pleasure you and how to get you off in the precise moment.

  One time you were lying in bed, basking in the afterglow of your fourth round that day and you coquettishly asked, “would you fuck me against that window?”

“As much as I’d love to show the whole town that you’re mind, I wouldn’t wanna risk giving your dad a heart attack, princess.” 

To compensate it, he fucked you in the bathroom, against a shower glass door that night. 

As carnal as your relationship was, you’d often talk about sentimental things too. Such as his past and how his father left when he was only six years old. His mother had to raise him and his little sister, Rebecca on her own. How Winnifred’s death three years ago still affected him to this day. And how he’d text his sister every day who was studying abroad to London to be a photographer. 

You would often talk about your relationship too and where it was going. Could you make it? How’d you tell your parents about it? What would happen when you go to college and leave town? The conversations would often stretch for hours and you’d have to tiptoe your way into the house to make sure you don’t wake your parents up. 

Even after spending hours with him and living next to each other, you still texted each other goodnight before you went to sleep. You dreamt of him again that night. You always dreamt of him. 

You were in your last year of high school and you had been occupied with a lot of things; college applications, SAT, final exams, earning credits, prom, etc. Your mind was all over the place, and on top of that, you began to feel like Bucky was slowly drifting apart.

You didn’t blame him though. Every time Bucky would ask you to come over or when your parents were out of town for business matters, Bucky would ask you if he could come over to your house, you’d often ignore his texts or calls. Or when you do answer, you’d always say you were busy or not today. When you did have time to talk to him, you were already fatigued with homework and studying to get into your dream school. 

Nate, who was a popular jock in your school asked you to be his date to prom and it wasn’t like you had a boyfriend you could publicly hold hands to prom with so eventually you had to choose one guy to be your date, and you had already rejected five guys.

Bucky knew about it and he wasn’t too happy with it. He didn’t like the idea of another man, especially one whom he viewed as if he was his understudy, touching you, holding you and dancing with you. You tried to convince him that you were only friends and that he was only going to be your prom date. Nothing more, but he still stormed out in tantrum like a child.

It had been weeks since you last talked to each other and you missed him terribly. Every time you ran into each other before you leave for school and he was leaving for work, you’d wave at him and try to greet him, but he’d always avoid eye contact with you and pretend that you weren't there at all.

You texted him to meet you in this secluded park, one that you and Bucky used to go on dates with. Bucky showed you this place and now it has become a spot of your clandestine meetings. You didn’t know if he was going to show up at all. He didn’t even reply to your text, but you still waited for him and hoped that he’d be there. You refused to believe that you two were completely done. You cared about each other too much for your story to end over juvenile things.

He was fifteen minutes late and you were losing faith. You were ready to head back home when you heard the familiar revving of his engine. He wore a black jacket and a grey shirt with blue faded underneath and he looked so damn good. Sometimes you couldn’t believe that this magnetic force of a man was yours. You were hoping that he was still yours.

“Let’s go for a walk, yeah?” 

You started with small talks that turned into a deeper, warmer conversation. There was a lot of unspoken words between the two of you and you wanted nothing more to apologize but what the hell would you be sorry for? You didn’t do anything wrong.

Bucky was the first one to apologize and he admitted that his jealousy was rational and that he had missed you so badly. 

You stopped at a small bridge of the park and that’s when the unresolved issue that you both had dreaded came up again.

“We still haven’t figured out how we’re going to maintain a long-distance relationship, have we?” Bucky stopped in the middle of the pathway and leaned against the barrel of the bridge, with his arms crossing in front of his chest and his face contorted into a dejected one. 

“That’s actually what I’m here to talk to you about…” You took a deep breath, fearing that what you were about to say would only cause a further clash between the two of you. “What if you just… Leave this town and come with me to New York? You can find a new job and we can leave in my apartment and we can finally live together. Away from my parents, away from this town. We can be whoever we wanna be. We can be together.” 

Bucky pondered at what you just said. He never thought about leaving this town. This town was all he knew. His ma raised him and Rebecca in that house and left him with it when she died. But you made him realize that there’s more to life than this small town and that he didn’t have to fear of change as long as he had you. And there was no one else he’d rather be with than you. 

His silence stifled you. You took his lack of words as an objection but it was the opposite. He grabbed your face and kissed that nervous frown out of your face. You looked so adorable but he liked it better when you were smiling.    

“New York doesn’t sound like the worst idea.” 

“Does this mean you will-” You grinned.  

“Yes, I’m gonna follow you wherever you go. Everyone’s gotta choose their own path, and you are my path.” 

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 10- Recipe for Love

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Bookshop/Bartender AU)

Word Count: 2,064

Summary: You and Bucky decide to host dinner for your friends and afterwards you get the best idea ever...

Author’s Note: Thank you all so very much for sticking with me and continuing to read! This has really been such an escape for me and I can never thank you enough for reading and being so kind and supportive. Thank you all for reading and much love always ❤❤❤

Warnings: sweet fluff, soft smut, fluffersmut, fun with friends :) 

Previous Chapters 

Chapter 1: Enchantment

Chapter 2: Cookie Crumble

Chapter 3: Sweet Anticipation

Chapter 4: Read Between the Limes

Chapter 5: Secrets on the Shelf

Chapter 6: Love Between the Covers 

Chapter 7: Love Lines & Soul Finds

Chapter 8: Drunk in Love

Chapter 9: Pour in onto the Page

The rest of the night goes on in a blur of soft touches, heated kisses and whispered, “I love yous.” Now that the words are out it’s as if neither of you have anything else to say. The uber ride back to Manhattan is as sugary sweet as the cotton candy you’re licking off your fingers. “Oh my god, Bucky! I forgot how good this stuff is!” you exclaim as you pull off another chunk of the spun sugar. “I know!” Bucky replies, kissing some melting pink sugar off your lips.

You giggle, trying to refrain from poking him with your sticky fingers. “Sweetheart, if you get that sticky crap stuck in my hair, we’re gonna have a problem.” Your fingers reach toward him as you hold back laughter. Bucky quickly grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his mouth, slowly sucking the sugar off the tip of each finger. “I wish we were home already,” you breathe out.

When you finally fall through the door of your apartment, you’re surprised you’re still dressed, Bucky’s hands groping you from the moment you got out of the uber. He walks you backward until you bump the small island in your kitchen, his arms lifting you up and sitting you on the countertop. Your hands card through his hair as he kneels between your legs, pushing up the skirt of your dress.

His eyes watch you as he trails kisses up your thigh, his soft hair slipping through your fingers as you try to find a hold on something. With the languid movements of his tongue he takes you apart, your body completely sated as he stands to unzip his jeans. You waste no time, helping him get them to the floor.

He enters you slowly and you feel every inch, his forehead pressed to yours while you relish in the feeling of each other. The lights from the city cast a soft glow on your skin as Bucky’s hands and mouth explore every inch with a newfound reverence.  It isn’t long before you come undone, his name a quiet plea falling from your lips.  

The next morning you find the other side of the bed empty, but the smell of freshly brewed coffee permeates the air. With a satisfied hum you throw off the covers, covering your nakedness with Bucky’s shirt. “Do you always walk around shirtless?” you ask as you enter the kitchen, Bucky’s back to you as he stands over the coffee pot.

“Are you complaining,” he croons, throwing you a look over his shoulder. “Not at all,” you say, walking over and wrapping your arms around his waist. “That smells so good! I’m so glad someone is finally using the coffee pot. I usually just get it from the café down the street.” He turns and hands you a steaming cup, asking, “you mean the little spot on West 22nd and 9th Ave?” You nod as you take your first sip, moaning at the taste.

“It’s going out of business!” You nearly spit out the delicious coffee, “WHAT?” Bucky frowns, holding you against his chest, “yeah, the new Starbucks that opened nearby is killing them.” Now it’s your turn to frown, the realization you may have to start brewing your own coffee or paying way too much for one making you angry. You take another sip, eyeing Bucky over the mug, “that’s awful. I really liked that place!”

Kissing the top of your head he says assuredly, “you have me and since you seem to approve of my coffee making skills, I think you’ll manage.” With a contented smile you reach behind him for your cookie tin, picking it up and noticing it feels way too light. “Bucky. Did you eat the last of the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies?”

Hanging his head, he doesn’t answer but it’s all the confirmation you need. “I can’t believe you didn’t even leave me one!” He tries to look sheepish but fails terribly as he checks for crumbs along his mouth. “Well, they were amazing! And I was hungry this morning!” he says in defense. “You’re lucky I love you, you know that” you say. He takes your unfinished coffee from your hands and places in on the counter. “Actually, I’m the lucky one and I love you too,” he says, before stopping any further conversation with his lips on yours.

You spend Sunday afternoon at the bookshop with Bucky, organizing some shelves and just enjoying each other’s company. As per her usual Sunday visit, Grandma Betty strolls in shortly after lunch, her smile bright at the sight of you both. “Look at you two. You’re practically glowing today! I knew a night out would be good for my boy. Was it as fun as you remembered?”

Bucky sends a heart stopping smile your way before launching into a full recap of your night and how perfect it was. Grandma leaves with a smile that matches yours and a promise of some of your now famous peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.

After the visit you can tell that Bucky’s mood has dampened slightly, his teeth working over his bottom lip and his forehead creased in thought. “Hey baby, you think Steve, Peggy, Nat and Sam would want to come over for dinner next weekend? Maybe we can do it early before you guys have to be at the bar?” His spirits seem to lift at the idea, and he sends out a text to see if everyone is available.

Once your plans are made and you all settle on a time you ask him, “what do I make for dessert?” He laughs, raising his brow before he speaks. You cut him off, “I’m not making you any more of those cookies. In fact, I’m going to make a whole batch, give them all to your grandma and you can’t have any!” He pretends to pout which makes you laugh, his antics hard to resist. “I’ll bake something new! A surprise!” you exclaim, winking his way.

You spend almost every weeknight at Bucky’s apartment, except for Wednesday night because Nat insists she needs some girl time. “So. Does it feel different now that you guys said I love you?” she asks, sitting on the couch with her legs stretched out over yours while sipping her wine. “It just feels right. I can’t really explain it. It all seems so cliché when I really think about it, but I’ve also not felt surer about anything before.”

Nat tilts her head in understanding, her hand reaching over to squeeze yours. “I get it. I’m so happy for you.” With another sip of your wine you reply, “thanks, I love you. Now stop stalling and tell me about your weekend with Sam!” She giggles and you squeal when you see a light blush creep over her cheeks. “OH MY GOD! WELL??” She kicks you with her foot, scowling before she says, “it’s the wine! I swear!” You laugh, knowing full well she’s full of shit. “Yea right. You can’t fool me. SPILL IT!”

Saturday morning rolls around and you and Bucky leave his apartment together, you’re heading out for baking supplies and Bucky heading to the bookshop to open and prepare for his early departure. “If you need me to pick anything up on my way back just let me know, doll. I can easily make a stop.” You pepper his cheek with kisses, saying thank you in between before planting a good one on his lips. “I love you,” he murmurs, watching you walk down the street until you’re out of his sight.

You decide on making a coconut cream pie for dessert, checking beforehand that everyone is a fan of the fruit. It’s the first time you’re making it and you’re both excited and nervous. Once you have everything you need you head back to Bucky’s and start preparing, making sure to send him plenty of silly texts as you bake. Thankfully the two of you had made a sauce and breaded chicken cutlets the night before so all that had to be done other than the pie was frying up the cutlets and cooking the pasta.

Bucky arrives home right on time. “Wow. It smells amazing in here baby.” He gives you a tight hug, picking you up off your feet and kissing you soundly before running off to take a quick shower. Once he’s clean and ready you finish up the cooking and put the pie in the oven. Bucky sets the table and you prepare some small appetizers.

Steve and Peggy arrive first, and Peggy joins you in the kitchen for some gossiping and wine. You look over her shoulder to see Bucky and Steve on the couch plowing through the snacks. “Hey boys! Can you please try to save some for Nat and Sam??” They both look up guiltily, trying to hide their mouthfuls of food. “Sorry,” they mumble simultaneously.

Luckily, Sam and Nat show up only moments later and Sam can snag a few bites. Dinner goes off without a hitch and everyone sits with their glass of wine while they wait for dessert. “Nat has been going on and on about y/n’s baking all week! I can’t wait to eat this pie!” Sam shouts. “I know, Bucky said her cookies are better than my mom’s!” Steve chimes in, raising his eyebrows.

Everyone looks at Steve in shock, their mouths hanging open. “What the heck guys?” you say as you walk to the table holding the pie. “What happened?” Steve quickly speaks up, “nothing y/n! We were just talking about how good your baking is. That looks amazing!” You throw them a knowing smirk and put the pie on the table, serving a slice to everyone.

Sam shovels in a giant bite, moaning around the fork. “Holy cow, this is incredible y/n!” Steve follows suit, closing his eyes and mumbling something about heaven while he chews. Bucky looks up and gives you a wide smile, his eyes twinkling as he mouths “I love you.”

Before you can answer him Sam snorts, pulling your attention away as you watch him point and laugh. “Jeez, you two are sweeter than this pie.” You scowl at him and try to hold back your laughter but fail miserably when Nat chimes in and says, “that’s the best you could do. Really?” Everyone starts laughing and Bucky pulls you into his lap, feeding you a piece of the pie. “Wow. It really did come good,” you say, only loud enough for him to hear.

While everyone continues to eat Bucky makes some coffee, the smell drifting through the small apartment and perking everyone up. The rest of the evening goes by fast and before you know it, Bucky and Sam must leave for the bar. Bucky tries to help you clean up, but you shoo him out, looking forward to a little alone time with Peggy and Nat. “It’s fine Buck, don’t worry! We can definitely handle this!”

It doesn’t take the three of you long to clean up, afterwards getting comfy on the couch with a glass of wine. You hang out for another couple of hours before the yawning starts, the wine and good food catching up to all of you. “Thank you so much for coming, this was so fun!” They enthusiastically agree, telling you for the hundredth time how delicious the pie was.

An hour later you’re in the bath, relaxing under the bubbles and teasing Bucky by sending him sexy pictures. ‘Doll, this is so unfair…I know what’s under those bubbles and I want some.’ You giggle, placing your phone safely on the towel next to the tub. Grabbing the plate of pie you brought into the bath you take a bite, savoring every flavor as it swirls over your tongue. You mentally give yourself props, loving how much everyone praised your baking abilities.

Finishing the last bite, your eyes suddenly go wide, and you blurt out, “that’s it!!!” You drop the empty dish to the floor and grab your phone, trying to text Bucky as quickly as possible. “Shit, shit, shit!” you curse at your slippery fingers, wiping them off on the towel. ‘BUCKY! I KNOW HOW TO SAVE THE BOOKSHOP!’ The text goes through and you smile to yourself, excitement coursing through you while you wait for his reply.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @bucky-on-my-mind @buckys-broody-muffin @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hailmary-yramliah @godofplumsandthunder @hawksmagnolia @hiddles-rose @imgaril-lindru @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines @metal-armed-cuddly-dork @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @scarletsoldierrr @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky @throwmyheartawayagain @flyawaybay @amandatar-06 @nd1998sc @captainchrisstan @vherriepie @fire-flv @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @irishflutiegirl @rinthehufflepuff @moonybarnes @nordlysinthewoods​ @inflxmes 

[svtshine]

Neighbor next door

pairing: Wonwoo x reader 

genre: angst to fluff, Neighbors!au, nonidol!Au

type: oneshot

summary: Falling in love with your neighbour best friend

You heaved the heavy box filled with stuff back at your apartment and entered the apartment building yet again. Probably for the 6th time now. You wiped off the sweat that was forming near your forehead and making the hair stick to your face. Even with the aircon from the lift system blasting you, you were still feeling extremely hot and stuffy.

It was an extremely hot day however, you were still very excited to move into your new apartment and meet your new neighbors. You were told from the nice old landlady that the people here were of different variations. Some were working, students like you or parents with newborns or children. It was a way better environment as compared to your old apartment.

At the old district there was hardly any conversations or interactions between you and your neighbors. You clearly remembered the only interaction you had with one of the neighbors, a floor above you, to keep it down. Even though you weren't making any noise. He was a grumpy looking elderly, and he looked at you with such a aggressive look.

You looked at him strangely but apologized anyhow, wanting so badly to return to the book you were then reading. It was getting to the very best part where the charismatic male character was going to kiss the protagonist and confess to her under the mistletoe, on a cold yet beautiful winter night. 

You kicked your front door with one hand balancing on the box and the other supporting the weight of the door. You placed the box on the floor where it remained with many other cardboard boxes filled completely with all your belongings.

You sighed out and proceeded to tie your hair up into a messy bun to keep it from sticking onto your face. i just have two more boxes, then i can start unboxing....god there is so much to do, you thought to yourself as you sat on the end of the sofa, taking a short break before leaving for those two boxes again.

Yes it was definitely tiring, but you still smiled to yourself as you thought about the new encounters and relationships that might form in this new building. You took a sip of your opened can of soda that was still cool and sighed out in satisfaction, as the cool liquid helped cool you down for a second and satisfy your thirst. 

You smiled brightly and greeted the neighbors that you came across while moving the boxes. They were all very friendly and open in welcoming you, you made note to bake them some of your special cookies later on to thank them. 

Wonwoo was just returning from the nearby convenience store, sucking on a cold soda-flavored ice popsicle. Under the sweltering heat and bright sun, this was what he needed. He was nearing the apartment building when he saw you. He didn't recognize you at all, and he was sure he recalled everyone’s faces. You were struggling with a heavier box, and he remembered the landlady coming over previously with a box of brownies and a notice that someone was going to move in to the apartment next to his.

“Wonwoo dear, someone is moving next door, isn’t that exciting” she said smiling brightly 

“Really?”

“She looks really gorgeous dear, around your age, Slightly younger i believe. She is moving in next month so do welcome her warmly, ya hear me” 

“Yes grandma” Everyone had the habit of calling the warm soul, grandma. She definitely did treat everyone like family, no one dared to mess with her either.

Grandma was watching Wonwoo munch on the delicious brownies and spoke up, “You know maybe you should show her around, get a little closer huh” she smirked deviously. 

Wonwoo only took a sip of his milk, “Grandma this isn’t some fictional romance novel” he replied nonchalantly. 

“You’d never know my dearest” 

His flashback ended and he had noticed that you were still struggling with the heavy box and next to it was a smaller one. He swiftly walked towards to you and took the box from your hands with ease, “here let me help, I’m wonwoo. You must be the new tenant. floor 7, unit 11? i live next door, unit 12″ he spoke up.

it was only then you realised there was a handsome charming man holding onto your box and literally speaking to you, while you stared at him in a slight daze. Holy macaroni, his face is god-like and his voice? come to mama. You continued staring at him, mouth slightly open until he waved his hand infront of you and pulled you out of your imagination. You got flustered at the fact that you were literally swooning over a man you just met, your neighbor for god sakes and in front of him. Get it together Y/n. 

“Hey, i’m Y/n nice to meet you Wonwoo” you stretched out your hand to shake his. Wonwoo placed the box on the ground and shook your hand gently with a warm smile. Grandma was right when she called you gorgeous. Wearing a tank top, pajama shorts, a messy bun and slippers, you still looked amazing. 

You lifted the small box, “Thanks so much for offering to help, these are my last few boxes and i can finally start unpacking” you looked so relieved that wonwoo chuckled. “No worries, we live beside each other so it would be convenient too” He grabbed the heavy box and walked beside you towards the elevator. The two of you starting a simple conversation.

“I can’t believe we’re gonna be neighbors. Not saying i would hate it, i just kinda pictured the next door neighbor to be someone older” You wondered out loud.

“Grandma did say you were around my age, but i’m glad that you’re friendly. You’ll definitely fit right in” Wonwoo smiled at you. “she also told me that you were around my age, are you attending college?” He asked curiously, looking down at you since you were shorter than him. 

“Yeah, i’m attending the college a few minutes walk from here. Psychology course..you?”

“nice, i’m attending the same school but taking business.”

Your stomach growled, you just remembered you haven’t eaten breakfast at all. Wonwoo laughed out loud and you pouted. “Why don’t i help you unpack and get some takeout so that we can share. It’ll help you save time” He suggested. You felt very touched by his kind gesture, “If you don’t mind, it’ll really help, i’ll pay for the takeout.”

The two of you unpacked and continued getting to know each other. It simply clicked between the two of you. There wasn’t any sign of awkwardness, and you never felt uncomfortable at all around him. Wonwoo made you feel at home. talking to him felt like you were reuniting with a friend from long ago.

Wonwoo held up a book from one of your boxes, “Holy shit, i’ve been trying to find this book for ages” you looked up from folding your clothes, “That is one of my favourite books, good eye. i had to queue hours to get that, but at least with the author’s signature as well” you winked at the end at him. His eyes widened and flipped to the first page where in deed, the bold yet elegant signature of the author lay. “i could lend it to you, as a thanks for helping me as well.”

Wonwoo smiled so brightly you were going to faint he looked like a kid who had just received a kitten for his birthday.

From then on, the two of you became the best of friends. Meeting earlier in the mornings to eat breakfast together before morning classes, walking to school together and even eating lunch together most of the times. Wonwoo introduced you to his big group of 13 friends, and not gonna lie when you first met them, you were really intimidated. Most of them were almost a head taller than you and you felt so small standing next to them. However, they welcomed you with open arms and you loved spending time with them and wonwoo.

Movie nights became a weekly thing after the both of you completed all the dued assignments. You would place you leg on his lap and the both of you would indulge in unhealthy snacks and sodas the whole night before falling asleep together.

Doing laundry together, studying at the library together and buying groceries together. it was normal to see the both of you together. There was never an awkward moment between the two of you. For the first time in your life, you trusted a friend that much in such a short time, it did kind of scare you at how fast you trusted this man but well wonwoo had never done anything to make you doubt him. In fact, he has been doing the opposite. Whenever you feel down about missing your parents or a bad test grade, wonwoo would hug you tight and wipe away your tears. He would do anything to make you happy like telling you about the dumb things his friends had done this week and afterwards tuck you in, sleeping on the couch just to be sure you were okay.

You entrusted him with a spare key in case of emergencies. The first time you realised what you felt for him was probably not entirely platonic was when you returned from your part time job one night. You were exhausted, it was a busy night at the restaurant and your manager had you running table to table taking orders and serving dishes. You wanted so badly to just collapse and your bed and sleep till tomorrow noon. You lazily unlocked your door and threw your bag on the floor, bending down to collect your shoes when you realised there was already someone inside your apartment. You recognised the back of Wonwoo’s head, his soft fluffy hair sitting on it giving him a nice look. Wonwoo heard some rustling and turned to find you finally home, “hey y/n welcome home, how’s work?” You organised your shoe and wonwoo came over to give you a squeeze. You felt his warmth and it felt so good to come back and wrap you arms around hi—.

your eyes opened in shock. You realised that with wonwoo, you were always happy. He made you feel at home, just by being next to you. He was your rock, and you looked forward seeing him everyday. Seeing him laying on your couch, a book in his hands when you reached home, immediately made you feel at ease and less tired. It was so natural, seeing him in your apartment, waiting for you to come home to him was normal.

oh my god. i’m falling in love with Jeon Wonwoo

After you started realising your romantic feelings for Wonwoo, you started being more cautious and aware of his behaviours. You would get flustered when your hand accidentally brushes against his when the both of you are walking. When he hugs you, you found is hard to let him go. You realised the sparkles in his eyes whenever he smiled and how much you enjoyed his laughter, never wanting it to stop.

The both of you would continue doing the stuff you’ve originally been doing. Baking together for the neighbours and grandma or going for walks in the park together. Only until one day, Wonwoo told you

“Y/n i’m so excited, i’m going to go on a date” You felt your smile falter, your heart breaking into tiny pieces. All hoped of “maybe he might feel the same way as i am” were thrown out of your window. You dug your fingernails harshly into your skin and you forced yourself to smile again

“hey that’s great, who is she?”

“Min jun, she’s in business as well. Super talented and smart and she’s really pretty too”

tears were starting to form, and you uncomfortably looked down at your lap, “That’s great, when are you guys going out?”

“Tomorrow, 6pm. I’m gonna bring her to that fancy restaurant Minghao recommended me.” Wonwoo looked so excited, it broke your heart even more.

“but won its movie night tomorrow” you said softly. “Don’t worry i’ll get back in time, just maybe a little late” eyes focused on his clothes. He picked out a button down and showed it to you, “Hey do you think this looks like date material”

“yeah” you mumbled. playing with your fingers, trying to distract yourself from breaking down infront of wonwoo. That night you left his apartment earlier than usual, telling him you still had some assignments to complete. If assignments meant crying the whole night.

the next day, you didn’t see wonwoo that much since you had more classes than usual. You were surprised you were still able to pull through them. Your doorbell rang and you opened it to see Wonwoo.

He was dressed nice in the same button down and jeans. His wrist adorned an elegant watch and his hair was styled nicely. he smelled of fresh shave. Your heart was pounding in your chest at how handsome he looked. “Wish me luck Y/n, i’m going to pick her up now” he smiled, showing how excited he was.

“have a great time Won” You said softly, knowing you wouldn’t have a great time knowing the person you love was going to meet someone else. Wonwoo waved goodbye to you and you closed the door. Sliding down the cool wooden surface and onto the ground, bringing your knees together and bawling your eyes out.

It was about 1 am, you sat on the couch waiting for Wonwoo to return for movie night. this heavy feeling of regret on your chest. You wanted to tell him about your feelings, at least let him know how deeply you felt for him. you knew you couldn’t pretend how much it didn’t affect you that he didn’t feel the same way about you.

The doorknob jingled and you realized it was wonwoo unlocking the door. You stood up and cleaned your sweaty nervous palms on your pajamas. Wonwoo opened the door and was shocked to see you still awake and waiting for him, snacks laid out on the coffee table and tv switched on to the netflix channel. “Y/n i wanted to check if you gone to bed already. I’m so sorry, we had such a good time i lost track of it and i walked her home”

Your heart once again broke at the fact that he had a great time. Of course you wanted him to find a nice girl, but it hurt you so much knowing it wasn’t you. “Wonwoo it’s fine...i need to tell you something and it’s really serious” Wonwoo rushed to you and the both of you sat on the couch. “look won, i really treasure our friendship but i just have to get it off of my chest. i-i love you, but more than a friend loves her bestfriend.” The hand that wonwoo used to hold your hand slowly retracted from yours.

“i know you don’t feel the same way” you said, your voice slightly breaking because your tears started dropping freely. “But you found someone, Min jun, who is much better than me anyways. Treasure her okay? i just want you to be happy and if you’re the happiest with her, then she is the road to go” Wonwoo instinctively raised his hand to wipe away your tears, but he brought it back down at the last second. “Y-y/n i’m so sorry, but i-i just don’t feel the same as you do. i really wished that i did” he looked down at his lap

You sighed out, “It’s fine wonwoo, it’s not your fault either, i just want to lay down now so goodnight. See you later Alligator”

“Goodbye crocodile” Wonwoo mumbled.

You snuggled closer into your blankets as you heard wonwoo leave the apartment and let the tears flow freely. 

You know what hurts the most? Loving someone who didn’t love you back.

Wonwoo didn’t sleep that night. you were on his mind the whole time. Guilt spreading his entire body as he could still remember the way you looked when you confessed your feelings to him. The way he wanted to hold you so tight then and chase all your problems away. He reached out his hand to wipe away your tears without even thinking but backed away in the end. 

He raised his hand in front of his face and stared at it. he knew he didn’t think of you as anything else but a friend.....right? He recalled all the memories he shared with you, food fights when the both of you woke up at 3 in the morning and had the terrible idea to bake cookies right then. The way your eyes lit up as you stared at the fishes in the sea aquarium. How bright your smile was when he brought you to a cat cafe. Oh god he loved your smi--

Wait no. He thought, i like Min jun, yeah the girl i’m going out with. Right?

He didn’t see you around that much anymore. You didn’t invite him in for breakfast. You walked to college on your own and you ate lunch that you have already prepared yourself. Wonwoo’s heart broke knowing you were purposefully avoiding him, trying to get over him. He himself spent countless of nights trying to get you out of his mind. But his mind always wandered back to you, have you been eating properly? Taking enough rests? or overworking yet again. he hasn’t been taking care of himself. Meals were half eaten, his eyes were dull and he hardly smiled anymore. he just wanted to see you again 

your smile, your eyes, your gorgeous face, your kind heart. 

his head kept convincing himself, Min jun, Min jun, Min jun.

but his heart chanted, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n.

Glasses clinked together, waiters moving around swiftly. Under dim lighting, Wonwoo stared at his date, Seo min. Seo min was talking about her new designer bag that she bought. Wonwoo zoned out of the conversation tapping his fingernails on the table, he switched his phone on from under the table and stared at the screensaver. It was a selfie of you and Wonwoo. 

Seo min clicked her fingers to gain wonwoo’s attention. “Hey you okay? you seem distracted” 

Wonwoo rubbed his face and flashed her a fake smile, “erm yeah i’m sorry, what were you saying?”. she continued droning on and Wonwoo had to put in so much focus just to hear what she was saying. He realised how similar the both of you looked. H/c hair, same hair length, height. But she wasn’t you. She didn’t want to get know Wonwoo, she didn’t care to ask if he was taking care of himself. 

oh god, i’m in love with Y/n, wonwoo realised

“S-Seo min, i-i need to go, i’m sorry. and i can’t see you anymore. Here is the money for this meal. i have to go” before Seo min could even say anything, Wonwoo was running out of the restaurant. 

Wonwoo ran like he never ran before, every breath came out as a light smoke as he ran through the cold wintery streets towards the apartment building. He climbed up the stairs as he was too impatient. 

Wonwoo impatiently knocked on your door, panting heavily from running and climbing so far. He waited for you to open the door and brushed through his hair. 

The multiple knocks on your door made you put down your book and hot chocolate. “I’m coming!” you said, wondering who was visiting you at this hour. You opened the door and was shocked when you saw Wonwoo panting like he just ran miles. 

“Won-” wonwoo stopped you by placing his lips on yours, slowly snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. You were shocked for a second, but hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. You broke the kiss first, leaning away and placing your hands on his face waiting for him to talk

“Y/n, these few week has been misery. As cliche as it sounds, it wasn’t the same without you. I missed you so much, your smile, your laughter, everything. Cooking with you, studying with you and even doing laundry together” Wonwoo said voice slightly quivering as all his emotions poured out for you. “i realised as much as i was attracted to Min Jun, my heart belonged to you. I love you, and i didn’t see it before but i really do. I hope that you’ll consider me again and i’ll really like to bring you out” he finished

You gave him a small peck on the lips, “of course Wonwoo.” He gave you the brightest smile, knowing he has you back in his life and that you love him as well, made him the happiest man alive

He wrapped his arms below your knees and carried you into your apartment and onto your bed. The two of you kay and cuddled for a while. Talking about the events that happened when the two of you weren’t talking.

With you, Wonwoo felt like himself. In contrast to how he felt when he was with Min jun. That night he kissed you goodnight and had the best sleep in a few weeks.

Wonwoo has been bringing you on dates for a couple of weeks now, but he hasn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend. Regular activities such as having breakfast together and spending time together resumed.

On christmas morning, you woke up earlier to make pancakes for the two of you. A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind, you let out a small yelp and Wonwoo’s deep chuckle made your hair on the back of your neck rise.

You turned around and gave him a kiss, “Good morning won.”

“Good morning baby”

You raised your head to realised the mistletoe that you hung were above you guys.

“look won” pointing to the mistletoe, “looks like i get another kiss”

Wonwoo looked up as well, “Well darling, i have one question. Would you like a kiss from won? or a kiss from your boyfriend Won?” he said bringing you closer. “because i would definitely love to kiss my girlfriend Y/n, not just Y/n.”

you can’t believe he was asking you to be his girlfriend, and on christmas morning under the mistletoe. It was a perfect moment. Your hand wrapped against your mouth in disbelief as wonwoo continued staring at you. You finally nodded frantically and Wonwoo’s face erupted into a big smile

He brought you in for a kiss. A kiss under the mistletoe, from your boyfriend next door.

Masterlist

[shananigans402]

1-65 will do, please. Thanks fuck face :)

I knew exactly who this was and I was so tempted to not reply, but your punishment is having to read through all my answers and remember them forever or you fail the friend test. To everyone else, please do not click unless you want to be very bored, my answers are not interesting lol

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? Nope

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you? Assuming 5 is the most, 1. Maybe 2. 

3. The person you would never want to meet? The person who sent me this (jk I’m excited for our eventual meet up where we hit up a strip club first thing 🙏)

4. What is your favorite word? I answered with ‘conniption’ the other day and still have not found a word I like more.

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be? Already answered this, fruit tree! I also like palm trees, maple trees, and willow trees. I know that’s not the question, I’m just saying random shit now.

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought? It took me a long while to remember where I was this morning. I honestly don’t remember, I was rushing to get ready for an early morning meeting.

7. What shirt are you wearing? My Orlando Strong shirt 

8. What do you label yourself as? Lesbian

9. Bright room or dark room? Bright room

10. What were you doing at midnight last night? Sleeping? Possibly checking on a feverish little beeb who was going through it with her second dose of the vaccine.

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? No idea. I like various ages for different reasons, but this age so far is not bad. 

12. Who told you they loved you last? Probably my sister 🤷‍♀️

13. Your worst enemy? The person who sent this ask.

14. What is your current desktop picture? The apple pic of Catalina island that changes based on time of day (yes it’s the default, don’t judge me)

15. Do you like someone? Lol yeah I hope so 😂

16. The last song you listened to? Pretty Girl by Hayley Kiyoko 

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? Definitely @raginage

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? I feel like I can only attack Raginage so many times. Can I pick a fictional character? This week I was real mad at Dave in The Darkness. BaBe!​

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? Lol no one, you’re talking to a person who feels very uncomfortable with anyone doing anything nice for them.

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional) Not this again. Last time I said eyes? Still no pics, sorry

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? What would I look like? Do I get to design myself like a sim? I honestly don’t know what I’d do because I doubt the world needs another clueless white man walking around, so maybe just stay at home. 

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it? Nope. And my last answer to this was awful. I do think I have a fantastic ability to annoy my friends but in a way that’s just amusing/endearing enough to make them still want to talk to me 😌

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? Unique? Uhm well my two big fears are confined spaces and deep water so a submarine is like my worst nightmare.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. Oh this is going to sound so odd. To be clear, I’ve had better sandwiches, but my go-to is provolone, turkey, roast beef, and spicy brown mustard or whole grain mustard. Please don’t judge me.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? Travel budget for future trips to visit my buds and get into trouble and eat food. I know $100 won’t go far, but it’s something.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go? Well, after my last answer I want to visit my friends! But there are too many people to visit and I only have one ticket. So change of plans. I’m going on a solo trip to Greece. Or Argentina. Or Iceland. Or Bali. Damn, I’m indecisive. 

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? Rabble red blend. Just a solid red wine. Also because @viola-lloyds stole my answer the other day (Juneshine; to be fair I asked her this question but whatever) and I don’t want to copy her.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? Oh I answered this one, something about respecting others. Yeah, a nice rule like that. Want to establish some healthy communication on this island.

29. What is your favorite expletive? It’s still fuck

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno? But what about my PLANTS. Can they count as loved ones? Probably my laptop, I know that’s lame but like...I have a lot of stuff on here. Or the collection of cards I have that my granddad drew little drawings in, I want to get them all framed.

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? To be honest, I don’t know if I’d change big life events in case it altered the trajectory of where I ended up. So idk maybe the ending of Bly, let’s give those lesbians have a happy ending!

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! Italy! But wait, let’s get back to this sleeping with celebrities and super-powers bit...

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? Oh that’s a really tough question. I always wanted to meet my great-grandma Olga because she seemed like a really awesome lady. 

34. What was your last dream about? I can’t remember, this is bothering me because I wish I could! I’m sorry. My gf recently had a dream where I kissed a dude right in front of her. It made us both very uncomfy lol

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? I hate this question because I can only think of one thing.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? For surgery, yeah

37. Have you ever built a snowman? But of course!

38. What is the color of your socks? Not wearing any? I was wearing blue ones earlier. Jfc my answers are so boring.

39. What type of music do you like? Lots! I tend to listen to indie, classic rock, and some pop

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? Sunsets!

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? Chocolate or a variant (chocolate peanut butter, chocolate caramel)

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer) LA Rams or Seattle Seahawks. I know they’re in the same division. It’s tough. (Please don’t ask me why these teams)

43. Do you have any scars? Yep, mostly from burning myself on ovens. I simply get too excited for my food.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate? I...have graduated? 

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Well bestie recently said I have “lesbian hands” and I think that’s code for man hands so maybe that hahaha

46. Are you reliable? I try to be!

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? How many more times will I watch The Darkness before I learn my lesson? (Related: When does other bestie finally admit to her fetish?)

48. Do you hold grudges? Not typically, no

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? A dog and an otter? Can we domesticate otters? No, a horse and a large bird, create a pegasus and then free travel.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? Oh god. I don’t even know where to start today tbh. Damie and pokemon and cosycon and looming and feet and [redacted] and developing apps for VP. So many fantastic conversations. 

In real life, probably the time I was at a laundromat in Italy and this guy wandered in with a beer, sat next to me and my male roommate, assumed we were a couple, and proceeded to give us bizarre life advice. I wish I could remember more of it, but it was so odd.

51. Are you a good liar? Hmm I’m okay at it I think, that is, I can convince people I’m serious when I’m actually joking. But I don’t like actually lying if it’s not just teasing someone. 

52. How long could you go without talking? Probably a few days if I had to.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style? The haircut I got before studying abroad! It was too short and I was so sad.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake? For a birthday? No. For fun? Absolutely.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own? Not well, no

56. What do you like on your toast? Butter and/or honey and/or jam

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of? My beautiful depiction of a scene of chapter one of Private Dancer. 

58. What would be you dream car? An electric car of some sort. I don’t know enough about cars tbh

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. Nope but sometimes I’ll play music and dance and maybe softly sing.

60. Do you believe in aliens? Yep! Definitely 

61. Do you often read your horoscope? Almost never unless someone sends it to me.

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? Already answered, A

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? Dinosaurs! 🦕

64. What do you think about babies? What do I think about them? They’re pretty cool. Just tiny little humans. 

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of. I was very nice and let you correct your mistake and submit one after the fact:

In your opinion what is the best thing you can cook, like your speciality? My favorite thing to make is pasta, I started making my own sauce and I’d love to make pasta from scratch sometime.

[buckleyirondad]

No. 12. I Think I've Broken Something "Broken Trust/Bones”

Morgan is secretly a vigilante, she is angry when Peter tells her parents, what she is getting up to, behind their backs.

AO3 Link

Morgan knew, from a young age, that she wanted to be a superhero.

Like her parents, her brother, and her uncle.

With her wit and puppy dog's eyes, she was able to convince Peter, to let her use his lab to build her own Iron Man suit, without informing her parents. He’d laid down multiple ground rules, that she had to agree with, but it didn’t stop her from ignoring a few.

Using the suit and going out to fight crime, was Peter’s strictest rule.

She was allowed to build a suit, ‘yes.’

Using it, however, was a strong ‘no.’

She couldn’t use it, in his mind, until she told her parents what they’d been doing, behind their backs.

The closer Morgan got to that day, the more scared she became.

Which was why she decided to go behind Peter’s back.

A double imposter, like her Aunt Nat, before her.

Morgan was clever, she could easily cover up her actions, by telling her family she was spending hours at the library, after school, when she was actually fighting crime.

She was only covering petty crime, and she never went out when Spider-Man was on active patrol.

She made sure she avoided populated areas or places covered with extensive security.

So far, a week in, she’d done well.

She was merely a mumble, on the streets, that went unnoticed.

There were new superheroes every other week, and her dad only concentrated on those who could potentially pose a threat, to others or themselves, like Peter, in the beginning.

Morgan had forgotten about injuries. She’d grown up, alongside Peter, who healed from superficial wounds, overnight, and she’d forgotten that she couldn’t do the same.

A black eye wasn’t too bad.

It was coverable and somewhat explainable.

She needed to rush past her parents, without creating a fuss.

Through the porch windows, she could see that her parents were in the kitchen.

She clicked open the front door, keeping her face turned to the walk opposite, “I’m home!"

Pepper sang, “Hey, honey.”

Tony chipped in, “If you haven’t got any homework, we could use some help with this lasagne.”

“Umm, I’m actually quite tired…” She placed her backpack onto the couch, “Can you save me some for later?”

Her mum spoke, “Sure.”

“Are you feeling all right, Morguna?” Her dad asked, worry present, in his voice, “Need some of your grandma’s famous soup?"

“No, no…” Morgan stammered, with a false laugh, “I’m good, just tired, you know?”

She sucked in a deep breath, when she turned the corner, to the stairs.

Peter was sitting, on the bottom step, his elbows rested on his raised knees, he shot her a stern look.

“What—"

He cleared his throat, “Tell them the truth.”

Morgan widened her eyes, sending out a silent plea: please don’t do this.

Her dad raised his voice, but kept calm, “Tell us what?”

Her mum stepped over, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Morgan walked forward, closer to the stairs, she glared down at him, “Move.”

Peter shook his head, unfazed, “No.”

“What are you doing here?” She barked, “It’s Tuesday.”

“MJ’s out with her friends, so I asked if I could bunk over tonight.” Peter straightened his back, “Where’ve you been?”

She answered, quick, “At school.”

Peter hung his head, “Looks like it.”

Morgan’s mum laid a hand on her back, “Honey, turn around.”

Morgan hesitated, taking a slow breath.

“Morgan,” Tony breathed, “Please take that hood off and turn around.”

Morgan reached up, pulled her hoodie down and spun, to meet her parents’ gaze, “What now?”

Her dad flinched, swaying back a couple of steps like his life flashed before his eyes.

Her mum moved, pressing a hand to Morgan's cheek, “What happened?”

Morgan moved away, “Nothing.”

Her dad’s eyes found Peter, “You know, don’t you?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah.”

Morgan, for as long as she could remember, kept secrets for Peter.

Some big and some small.

“Shut up!” She spat, throwing out an arm, “You promised you wouldn’t say anything!”

“I know, I did, but I can’t stick to it,” Peter remained calm, “Not if you’re getting hurt.”

Peter Parker, forever a hypocrite.

Morgan sneered, with a frown, “That’s fucking rich, coming from you.”

Her mum turned, her jaw dropped, “Morgan!”

Morgan ignored her, she kept her eyes locked onto Peter, “You only just got out of a coma!”

Peter’s face burned red, with anger, “I’d rather not see you, in the same situation!”

Morgan’s dad held up his hands, stepping in front of Morgan, “Okay, okay, what is going on here?”

“Morgan is building a suit, in my workshop,” Peter nervously rubbed his palms together, “She’s nowhere near the testing stage though.”

Her dad’s face drained, of all color, “An Iron Man suit?”

Peter lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, “Basically.”

Rage quickened in Morgan, as she mindlessly stepped back, “I hate you."

Her mum twisted to face her, “Morgan H—”

Morgan screamed, “I hate you so much!”

Peter swallowed, with his head lowered to his chest, “You can hate me all you like.”

Morgan shook her head, frantically, with tears in her eyes, “I’ll never forgive you.”

“I promised, not to say anything,” He looked at her, “But you promised never to use it, without telling them first.”

“You ruin everything,” Morgan’s lower lip trembled, as her sorrow and anger collided, “Why is it one thing for you, and then one thing for me?!”

Her dad spoke, with a softened tone, “Morgan—"

Morgan screamed out, without even thinking, “Life would be so much easier if you never came back!”

Tears welled in Peter’s eyes, he turned his face away, towards the wall.

Morgan drew in a long breath, realizing what she'd said.

Her mum rested her hands on her hips, “Morgan—"

“No!” Tony snapped, “No, that’s too far.” He pointed, down at Peter, “Apologise now.”

Morgan shuffled back, “No.”

Her dad’s eyebrows knitted together, “Don’t—"

“Peter was fourteen when he became Spider-Man,” Morgan pointed out, “This is no different!”

“Peter has powers, honey,” Pepper said softly, “And they allow him to heal.”

“Uhhh,” Morgan clenched her fists, “I knew you’d never let me do this!”

Her dad crossed his arms, “The fact you didn’t tell us, shows me that you’re not ready.”

Morgan darted her eyes around, not knowing what to do.

She swiftly spun on her heel and headed for the front door.

Pepper called after her, “Where are you going?”

Morgan pulled her hood up, “Anywhere, but here.”

She fumbled for the handle, pulling it open.

Tony yelled, “It’s raining!”

When Morgan was walking home it was raining, but it had turned torrential.

There was a rumble of thunder, in the distance, and the clouds had covered the afternoon sun.

Morgan leaned out, “I don’t care.”

She rushed onto the porch, down the steps.

“Morgan, Morgan—” Her mum ran out, “Come back inside and talk about this,” She leaned over the banister, “You can’t walk in this.”

“Yes, I can!” Morgan’s temper spiked, “You’re never gonna let me do this.”

“If we talk about it,” Her dad stepped close, “We can work something out.”

Morgan shouted, over the sound of the storm around her, “You’re just saying that!”

“No, sweetheart,” Pepper argued, “We knew you’d want to do something like this, but there’s a right way.”

Tony called over, “We have to take it slow.”

Morgan clenched her jaw, “Did you take it slow, Dad?”

He motioned back to himself, “I’m not a prime example, kiddo.”

Morgan dug her nails, into her palm, “What about Peter?”

Peter was hovering behind her parents, his eyes were on the sky.

Her dad motioned to him, “I had protocols in place, for your brother.”

Morgan stomped her foot, “Why do you have an answer for everything?!”

“Because I’m your dad.”

Peter stepped down, “Morgan...”

She moved back, “I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“No…” He sped down the remaining steps, “Morgan—"

She shouted, “Peter, go away—"

Peter’s eyes were glued to the clouds above, he sprinted over, with an arm held out.

Morgan frowned, “What—”

Peter wrapped an arm around her, momentarily lifting her up, and then pulling her down, to the ground, using himself as a crash mat.

Lightning flashed, striking the pine tree beside them.

Morgan’s eyes widened, “Holy shit—”

Peter brought up his hand, tangling it, in her hair, protecting her head as he scrambled back.

The top half of the tree collapsed, landing with a heavy thump.

Peter leaned his head into the dirt, “Jesus.”

Morgan darted her eyes over to the tree, “How—”

Without Peter, she would have been flattened by it.

She sunk into his hold, curling her head under his chin.

He combed a hand through her hair, “You okay?”

She breathed, “Yeah.”

“Morgan!” Pepper shrieked, “Peter!”

“Fucking hell,” Tony leaned beside them, “You both okay?”

Peter panted a laugh, “We can add lightening to things I can sense.”

Morgan sat up, brushing leaves off her hoodie.

The rains started to calm, and the thunder sounded distant.

Peter sat up, scrunching his eyes, as he flinched, “Ow.”

She turned, her voice small, “Are you okay?”

He held up his left arm, his wrist was swollen, “I think it’s broken.”

Her parents hissed, sympathetically.

Her dad rested a hand on Peter’s back.

Morgan’s stomach leapt into her throat, “It’s my fault.”

Peter shook his head, “No, it’s not.”

“But I was—” She stammered, “I was the one out here.”

Peter smiled, “I’ve had worse.”

Her dad raised his eyebrows, “Yeah, he has.”

It slowly dawned on Morgan, that the entire time she’d known Peter, all he’d ever done, was keep her safe, and that was exactly, what he was doing, when he told her parents, what she’d been getting up to behind their backs.

She pulled him into a hug, laying her head on his shoulder, “I’m sorry,” She whispered, “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” He kissed her forehead, “It’s okay, we all have days like this.”

“Peter’s involved a Ferry chopped in half,” Tony joked, “Ha.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “How funny.”

Morgan's dad squeezed their shoulders, he pointed to the sky, “Obviously your Uncle Thor doesn’t like seeing you two fight.”

Morgan’s parents helped the duo, to their feet.

“We better get you to the infirmary, kiddo,” Tony said, studying Peter’s broken wrist, “Another week, in a cast.”

Peter nodded, “I’ve had every color now.”

Morgan chipped in, “Maybe Cho can do a multi-colored one?”

“Oh…” Peter’s eyes sparkled, “Like one with the bi flag?”

Tony grinned, “That’d be cool.”

“Well, let’s get wrapped up and dried first,” Pepper mused, “A broken arm and a black eye, is enough, for today, we don’t need to add hypothermia to the list.”

[tripleaxeldiaz]

subtle as a brick in the small of my back

Eddie’s proposing to Buck. The whole team finds out first. It goes about as well as expected (not well at all)

Or: 5 times the team almost blows Eddie’s cover, and 1 time it’s already blown

read on ao3

In retrospect, Eddie really did this to himself.

But, in his defense, he had to tell Maddie — she was Buck’s sister, his only blood relative, and the only one who would honestly tell him if the ring was horribly ugly. And he had to tell Bobby — the guy was practically Buck’s step-father, and he wanted to avoid any possible lecture from his mother about not being “considerate” or “chivalrous” when it came to asking a man’s pseudo son to marry him.

He should have known, however, that it wasn’t just telling those two — he should have known it was telling Bobby, who would tell Athena, who would tell Hen, who would tell Chimney, who had already heard it from Maddie, and who was now practically skipping around the firehouse announcing it to everyone else.

Eddie watches from the kitchen as Chim flits around like a damn bumblebee spreading the good news about Buck and Eddie’s pending engagement. He’s not a holy man, but he prays to whoever is listening that Buck doesn’t find out until Eddie actually gets to ask him himself.

Whoever hears him has the worst sense of humor.

Buck and Eddie don’t like to be apart after bad calls.

This one could have been worse — four car pile up in the carpool lane with three critical injuries, all kids. They were in the ICU and expected to make full recoveries, but it’s still not easy pulling mangled bodies the same size as Christoper out of wrecked cars.

They sat close in the truck coming back to the station, thighs pressed together, shoulders overlapping. They changed together in the locker room, never far away enough that they couldn’t feel the others’ warmth. They climbed the stairs together to the lounge, Eddie’s hand around Buck’s wrist, making sure he stayed upright until they could fall onto the couch.

They’re better now, overall. They checked in with Carla and Chris (who were apparently in the process of an intricate arts and crafts project that required hot glue and a pound of glitter. Eddie can’t wait to clean that out of the house for the next 10 years). The TV in the lounge is softly playing a rerun of Chopped. Eddie is sitting in the corner of the couch, feet on the coffee table, fingers running through Buck’s short hair where his head is settled in his lap. His other hand rests on Buck’s chest, right over his heart, and he listens to Buck’s critical commentary of each chef’s use of ingredients. They know the bell will probably ring in the next 15 minutes and they’ll be right back in the truck, but for now they sink into this brief moment of peace.

Eddie’s so focused on the show and Buck’s apparently extensive knowledge of ways to prepare salmon that he doesn’t even notice Bobby coming over until the couch dips as he sits down.

“You boys doing okay?” he asks, a soft smile on his lips. Buck adjusts to see him better, sitting up to lean on Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arm slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah, we’re good. Chris has a surprise craft for us when we get home, though I think the mess he makes will be more surprising than anything else.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, craning his neck to kiss the crown of Buck’s head. When he looks back at Bobby, the look the captain has on his face seems...sentimental. A little too sentimental, if Eddie’s being honest.

Buck must notice it too. He cocks his head and asks, “Are you okay Cap? You’re lookin’ a little misty over there.”

Bobby smiles and shakes his head, eyes shining. “I’m good, kid. Just...really excited for you guys.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. That’s a weird thing to say.

“Excited?” Buck asks, cocking his head even more. “What, that we didn’t get crushed on the highway?”

Bobby laughs. “Well yeah, of course. But also, you know, just excited that you guys have each other to lean on in the bad times like this. And you’ll have each other for a really long time. Forever, hopefully.”

Now Eddie’s eyes are wide in panic. Seriously? You’ll have each other for a really long time? He gives Bobby a look over Buck’s head that hopefully reads as If you don’t stop talking right now I’ll spray you with the hose and I won’t even feel bad about it.

Buck — beautiful, slightly oblivious Buck — just turns to look at Eddie, a smile lighting up his face (a relief to see after the past few hours). “Yeah, I’m pretty excited about that too.”

Eddie melts a little, returning Buck’s smile. Before he can fully respond, the bell rings, and Buck jumps to his feet. He stretches, shaking off any lingering cobwebs of their last call before heading into another one. He kisses Eddie’s cheek as he passes to head to the stairs.

He watches him bound down to the truck, still smiling, before turning to Bobby with narrowed eyes again.

“I’m pretty sure my 11 year old is better at being subtle than you are.”

Bobby claps his shoulder as he follows Buck to the stairs. “Don’t worry, I don’t think he noticed anything. Consider that a precursor to my speech at the wedding.”

Eddie sighs, hopes he’s right, and follows the team to the truck.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie stares at Maddie’s kitchen island in the same awestruck confusion he usually has on Buffridays. This week’s spread consists of lasagna, garlic knots, summer rolls, banh mi, tacos, and what he’s pretty sure is fried cheesecake. He feels Buck come up next to him, hip checking him as he gets one of everything on his plate before returning to the couch to pick their movie for the night. Eddie follows suit, skipping the cheesecake but promising he’ll come back later, before dropping down next to his boyfriend, who immediately turns and gives him a quick peck on the temple.

Eddie does not blush and smile like an idiot, despite this being a regular thing that has occurred for the entire two year duration of their relationship. He doesn’t. He’s totally used to how much and how openly Buck loves him. It’s fine.

Maddie walks over while they bicker about what movie to watch and sits on Buck’s other side. She clears her throat, halting their argument between Booksmart and Heathers, and pulls something out of her pocket.

Buck turns toward her and freezes. Eddie looks over as well and sees her holding a scrap of dark blue fabric. It’s inky and rich and speckled with white dots, almost like…

“The Milky Way Dress? Maddie, I can’t believe you still have this, why—”

“I finally got around to cleaning out the last of my boxes, pretty much a bunch of old stuff I was not ready to deal with when I left.” She smiles, wistful and a little sad. “I found this and just thought it was time to pass it on to you.”

Buck’s in shock, Eddie can tell. His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open like it did the first time Christopher referred to the two of them as “his dads”, or like it did when Eddie told him that he wanted to spend the rest of their lives together (and no that was not a proposal, Eddie was hopped up on drugs after falling off a second story roof at a call. He barely remembers it, save for the look on Buck’s face. Doesn’t count.).

Buck takes the fabric reverently, turning it in his hands and running it through his fingers. He turns to Eddie, a soft smile on his face, and Eddie places his hand on his thigh reassuringly. He can tell there’s a story, and he’s happy to wait until Buck’s ready to share.

“This is— wow. So my grandma was one of the main people who raised me, along with Maddie. And she was crazy in the best way, very Miss Frizzle. She used to make all her own clothes with crazy fabric, and she always made me a matching shirt or belt or something. She got this Milky Way fabric once, and I was just obsessed with it, I wouldn’t shut up about it. So she went all out — she made me a shirt, a belt, a tie, a damn suit out of the stuff. I wore them as much as humanly possible for the next few years before my parents ‘accidentally’ donated them away.”

“You wore that suit for picture day until you were 13,” Maddie reminds him.

“Yeah, exactly.” Buck laughs wetly, wiping at his eyes. “But Grandma loved it as much as I did and always wore the matching dress when I came to visit. When she died when I was 16, she made it very clear in her will that she wanted to be buried in that dress. And Maddie, genius that she is, cut some scraps off the dress so we could always have a part of her. I lost mine in one of my billion moves, but now…”

“I kept part of this scrap too, but I wanted to give most of it to you,” Maddie says. “I know how close you two were. I used it as my ‘something old’ and ‘something blue’ at my wedding, so I figured you could use it too for...I don’t know, something. Down the line.”

She catches Eddie’s eye in a silent apology. He’s glad she caught herself because he’s still a little too wrapped up in watching Buck relive all these obviously happy memories to register much of anything else going on.

He watches Buck for a little longer as he folds the fabric back up, placing it in his back pocket. He turns and wraps his sister in a patented Buckley Bear Hug, laughing as he kisses the top of her head.

“Thank you, Mads. Seriously, this is...perfect. It’s just perfect.”

“Of course, I’m just glad I found it for you. And seriously, don’t lose it. I have a feeling you’re going to need it soon.” She pats his cheek fondly, sending a not so sly wink to Eddie.

Eddie somehow manages to keep his groan in his head as Buck settles between them again, picking up the remote.

“Alright gang, I really think the only way we’ll be able to balance out all this sappy stuff is with the glorious violence of Heathers…”

~~~~~~~~~~

Laughter erupts as soon as Eddie gets to the front door of the Grant-Nash house, so he waits a minute before knocking. The door swings open, and he’s greeted by the sounds of soft jazz, the smells of home cooking, and the vision of his boyfriend looking happy, relaxed, and definitely buzzed.

“Ah, my knight in shining armor, come to fetch me away!” Buck smiles his lopsided smile as he lets Eddie in and kisses him soundly. He tastes like Merlot and chocolate and just Buck. Eddie’s pretty sure he can get drunk off that taste alone.

“More like your chauffeur in a shining Silverado, but being a knight sounds much more fun.” Buck falls into a fit of giggles, his head collapsing onto Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie can’t help but laugh along with him. Few things fill him with as much joy as seeing Buck so unabashedly happy, and he’ll relish in it for as long as he can, whenever he can.

Buck grabs his hand and pulls him towards the kitchen. “Come sit, Athena said she has some wedding stuff for me before we go.”

Eddie’s stomach drops past his feet, possibly all the way to the center of the earth.

His internal monologue goes off the rails — dammit he should have asked by now, none of the big romantic plans he’s come up with seem good enough so he just keeps waiting, but maybe since it’s all ruined he’ll just do it tomorrow morning when they’re eating breakfast or tomorrow night after they put Chris to bed, and Jesus Christ he should never tell any of their friends anything ever again—

Pull it together, Diaz. Be chill. Maybe it’s nothing. Of all people, Athena would never break a secret so easily. She’s a cop for crying out loud.

“Wedding stuff?” he asks in a voice way too squeaky to ever be considered “chill”.

Thankfully, alcohol is an exceptional buffer to Buck noticing Eddie in a full on crisis. He turns to him with bright eyes and says, “Yeah, for Maddie! She told Athena she’s been dropping hints to Chim for a while now and thinks he’ll pop the question soon. She wants to get a jump start on things so they can have the wedding by the end of the year.”

Well now he’s pissed for an entirely different reason.

Before he can hit send on a text to Chim — what the hell dude are you trying to steal my thunder??? — Athena comes back to the table with three boxes full of binders, pamphlets, and fabric samples. Eddie stands to help, and she gives him a look he can’t quite read before flashing a smile at Buck.

“This should be everything Bobby had. There’s lists of venues with how many people they hold and how much they charge for food. There’s samples for place settings, centerpieces, and decorations. And there’s lists of bakeries for the cake, plus what allergies they can cater to and price estimates. I hope to God there are no other boxes but if there are, I’ll let you know.”

“Wow,” Buck marvels as he flips through a book of flower arrangements. “Bobby really doesn’t half-ass anything, does he?”

Athena chuckles as she finishes the last of her wine. “No he does not. Sometimes it’s a gift, sometimes it’s a curse that clutters up my closet for three years.”

“Well thanks very much Athena, I know Maddie will be thrilled to not plan a second wedding completely from scratch.” He hugs her tight and kisses her cheek before grabbing a box and heading to the door. “I’ll keep these safe for her until Chim gets his ass in gear. Babe, can you get the other two?”

Eddie’s already in the process of grabbing them before Buck finishes his question. He smiles soft and bright when he sees, kissing Eddie’s temple. “You really are my knight in shining armor.”

Eddie’s sure he’s got hearts in his eyes as he watches Buck leave and load up the truck. He’s only able to turn away when he feels Athena come up next to him.

“Speaking of getting asses in gear…”

“I know,” Eddie sighs. “I’m working on it. I just...it needs to be perfect. That’s what he deserves.”

“Honey, it’ll be perfect because it’s you asking. That’s all he cares about. Don’t think too hard about it.”

“Well looks like I have to do it sooner rather than later anyway. I cannot believe Chim’s gonna—”

“Oh, he’s not.”

Eddie squints. “He’s not?”

“No, those are for you guys, not Maddie. I really needed them out of the house and didn’t know how long I’d be waiting.” She levels Eddie with a look again, and he somehow feels like he’s 16 and his mom wasn’t “mad” at him for doing something dumb, just “disappointed”. “I already gave Maddie a heads up so she’ll play along. Just try to ask him before we all start going grey, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.” She smiles and pats his cheek before leading him out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve seen these in person since I was in high school,” Buck says as Hen sits down across from him at the kitchen table, dropping a bunch of small, thick packages Eddie can’t quite see from his post at the coffee machine.

He blearily grabs the two cups of coffee he made, making his way over to the table. He places one mug in front of Buck, earning him a relieved smile and wink as he sits down, looking over to see what Hen brought in. The table is covered in developed pictures from old disposable cameras, dozens of glossy frames of people in suits and cocktail dresses laughing, a beautiful dessert table, something that looks suspiciously like a conga line.

“Are these from an old LAFD gala or something?” Eddie asks as Buck snorts out a laugh. He holds a picture up so Eddie can see Chimney with a tie around his head, perched on someone’s shoulders, yelling at something out of frame. “Oh that’s definitely getting blown up to poster size.”

“Actually,” Hen says, “these are from mine and Karen’s wedding.”

Eddie freezes mid sip of coffee, eyes snapping to Hen, who just stares back at him with feigned innocence and barely concealed glee. Hen’s smart, smarter than all of them put together, and while he knows she won’t tell Buck anything outright, he also knows she is thoroughly enjoying this opportunity to make Eddie squirm.

“Whoa,” Buck says. “There’s got to be at least a thousand pictures here. How’d you get so many in one night?”

“We had a few cameras on every table and told the guests to go nuts. We have some professional shots of the reception, but we wanted to see it how everyone else saw it too. And we decided to wait until our 10 year anniversary to get them developed so we could have a little walk down memory lane.”

“Huh, that’s a pretty good idea,” Buck murmurs thoughtfully, still absorbed in all the pictures in front of him. Eddie agrees, the cameras are a great idea, and he tucks that into the filing cabinets of his brain to use when they have their wedding.

If they ever have their wedding.

Eddie’s working on it. Really. He’s got the skeleton of a plan that will be beautiful and romantic and not too big, but big enough that Buck will know without a doubt how much Eddie loves him. So it’ll be soon, okay? Very soon. As long as someone doesn’t ruin everything before his plan can actually get set into motion.

He sees Hen’s smile get bigger, like she can see Eddie’s brain starting to overheat a little.

She leans over the table, pointing to one of the pictures. “I also recommend doing a dessert table instead of a big ugly cake. You can do a bunch of good stuff too like cupcakes, pie, we just went to a wedding with a candy bar…”

“A candy bar!?” Buck looks at Eddie like a kid on Christmas, and Eddie files that idea away too (while also noting that he’ll have to remind Buck that they probably can’t only have gummy worms at a candy bar).

“And you guys should definitely have a live band, they’re much better at getting people to dance than a DJ.”

Eddie clocks the “you guys” and starts sweating a little more. Hen notices too, eyes widening at Eddie like she knows she went a little too far.

Buck, by some miracle, still seems caught up in the fantasy of a 12-foot table covered in gummy worms.

He looks at Hen, eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t think a DJ is better? I feel like they have way better music usually. Live bands have, like, the same seven songs, and one of them is always ‘Footloose’.”

They continue to debate the pros and cons as Eddie stands to put his mug in the sink, squeezing Buck’s shoulder as he passes. Buck grabs his hand, kissing the inside of his wrist before letting him go, all without breaking conversation on whether “Shout!” or “The Macarena” is a more annoying song. Eddie’s stomach flutters like it always does with Buck’s absentminded displays of affection, but the butterflies also seem to be saying It’s time to get your shit together and ask this man for his hand in marriage, idiot.

Eddie closes his eyes, resting his head on the cabinet above the sink.

The butterflies are right. A little rude, but still right.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie knew Chimney was going to be the hardest loose end to round up.

He had stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, as Chim came up after telling the station (and probably the entire city of Los Angeles) that Eddie and Buck were getting engaged. “Chim, man, look—”

“No worries, Eddie,” Chim said, holding a hand up to cut Eddie off. “Cross my heart, I will not say a word to Buck. I’m sure you have something big and sappy in the works, and I will not be the person to screw that up.”

Eddie deflated a bit, still eyeing Chim warily. Chim just smiled back, clapping a hand on his shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. “Look, I’m so, so happy for you guys. You’ve both been through the ringer and still managed to find each other and create a beautiful life for yourselves. You guys really deserve it, and I—” He cleared his throat as his eyes filled with tears. He opened his mouth like he wanted to keep going, but he pulled Eddie into a tight hug instead.

“Thanks Chim, that’s...that’s really sweet.” Eddie felt his voice crack around the lump in his throat as he patted his friend on the back. They pulled away, laughing quietly and wiping their eyes.

“Plus,” Chimney said, punching Eddie softly on the shoulder, “we’re basically in-laws now, so there’s definitely a bro code. Add that to the firefighter bro code, and I’m double coded, man.”

“So you’ll...double keep the secret?”

“Exactly.” Chim patted his back as he walked toward the kitchen. Eddie watched him go, still trying to put together the double code thing that was definitely not actually a thing.

In his own weird way, Chim had seemed sincere in keeping his mouth shut. Eddie really thought that had been that.

That had most certainly not been that.

Because since Chim couldn’t let out his excitement with words, he had to let it out in other ways.

Namely, tears. An ungodly amount of tears.

The whole team is in the lounge, flipping channels until they land on Say Yes to the Dress. Chim blinks at the TV, then whips his head to where Buck and Eddie are squished together on the couch. Eddie catches his gaze, watching his eyes begin to water before he’s up and running down the stairs. Hen barks out a laugh and tries to hide it in a cough. Bobby shakes his head and looks toward the sky, either asking God for strength or to smite him where he sits.

They’re at the kitchen table early in the morning, heads bent together as Buck shows Eddie a TikTok on his phone (Eddie doesn’t get the deal with these things, but they make Buck laugh so hard he snorts so he’ll allow it). They’re startled by a strangled sob from across the room and look up to see Chim rushing past them to the coffee machine rubbing his eyes, his shoulders still shaking as he adds milk to his mug. Buck shoots Eddie a confused look, and Eddie just shrugs helplessly before shooting a death glare to the back of Chim’s head.

Buck and Chim are chatting in the locker room when Eddie arrives for shift, dropping his bag next to Buck and giving him a quick peck hello on the cheek. Buck smiles at him, reaching up to push back a lock of hair that had fallen on Eddie’s forehead in his hustle to be on time (he’s growing his hair out again because he likes it that way, okay, not because Buck told him he looked like a sexy Superman when it was longer). They turn back to Chim in time to see tears begin to fall in earnest, which he quickly blames on allergies before scooting past them and out of the room.

“Is Chim like...good?” Buck asks, watching Chim walk away blowing his nose in his shirt. All Eddie had done was smile (probably a little dreamily) at some dumb joke Buck made, but that was enough apparently.

“He’s fine,” Eddie replies quickly. “He’s just...you know. Going through it. I guess.”

Bobby snorts from behind the stove as he flips a grilled cheese.

Buck sighs. “Should we remind him about therapy at least? I’m just worried he’s gonna be perpetually dehydrated or something.”

“I don’t know if therapy is what he needs,” Bobby says, looking pointedly at Eddie. Eddie throws a napkin at him.

Buck turns to Bobby confused but is quickly distracted by the hot sandwich placed in front of him. They launch into a debate on the best combination of cheese for a grilled cheese, Chim’s hydration levels seemingly forgotten.

Luckily for everyone, they’re almost in the clear. Reservations have been made, Chris’s sleeping arrangements have been confirmed, and Eddie’s even picked out an outfit. Everything is finally ready.

Eddie’s excited, more excited than he can remember being in a very long time, possibly since Christopher was born.

He also feels like he’s gonna hurl.

Hopefully that’s a good sign.

~~~~~~~~~~

He settled on recreating their first official date. It’s just cheesy enough that Buck will get a kick out of telling the story over and over and simple enough that Eddie can handle everything without involving one single other person.

It’s really nothing crazy: dinner at their favorite Italian restaurant and watching the sunset on the beach, brown bagging a bottle of wine like they’re in college. Eddie even knows what he’s going to say already, going over it again and again in his head so he can get everything out perfectly.

That first date, Eddie had accidentally told Buck he loved him. He hadn’t planned on it at all, but the words had been bubbling under his skin for so long at that point it was a relief to get them out in the open. He was immediately terrified he had said them too fast, too soon, but Buck simply pushed him back into the sand and kissed him soft and sincere, more teeth than anything once they both gave up on holding back their smiles.

He doesn’t want to be so caught off guard by his own brain this time. Not for something this important.

But that all has to wait until tomorrow.

Tonight, Chris is with Abuela (who slyly offered to keep him all weekend so Eddie and Buck could “celebrate properly”, which Eddie was both thankful for and mortified by, hearing from his grandma), they had ordered Chinese, and are now watching a movie that (blessedly) has no cartoon characters randomly bursting into song.

It’s normal, domestic, something they do at least once a week.

And yet Eddie feels like his skin is on fire, his heart beating so fast he’s sure it’ll break through his ribs at any moment.

He’s looking at Buck, feels his chest on his back, his strong arm around his shoulders, drawing absent-minded shapes across his chest as his attention is focused on Bill and Ted meeting Rufus in the phone booth for the first time. The light of the TV highlights Buck’s jaw and cheekbones, casts an ethereal glow on his unkempt curls. He laughs at something, a rumble deep in his chest, head tipping back slightly exposing the long line of his neck.

He’s beautiful. Stunning, inside and out. The most amazing thing that has ever deemed Eddie worthy of attention and love, aside from his son.

And if he doesn’t ask him to be his forever right now, this minute, he’s absolutely going to explode.

He’s off the couch and striding toward the bedroom before his brain even tries to stop him. He hears Buck faintly call, “Baby? Are you okay?” but is too busy rifling through his sock drawer to answer. He holds the blue velvet box firmly in his hand and takes a deep breath.

He had been waiting and planning and trying his damnedest to keep this all under wraps so by the time he asked, everything would be perfectly romantic and swoon-worthy, a story they could tell their kids and grandkids and great-grandkids to inspire them to find a love like theirs. A moment so perfect that there would be no doubts about how desperately Eddie needs Buck in his life until he’s buried in the ground, and probably even after that. Buck deserves to know that Eddie would go to the ends of the earth to make him happy, have it spelled out in the stars just how deeply he makes Eddie feel loved and safe, and that he’d do anything to make sure Buck feels that in return, always.

But, really, they’ve never been perfect. They’re messy sometimes, and gritty. Too loud or too soft or too much or not enough. They push and pull at each other in good and bad ways, sometimes too far, but sometimes just enough that they come out even better together and apart than they were before.

They’ve never been conventional. So why bother starting now?

When he comes back to the living room, Buck is standing, movie paused, worrying at his hands as he watches Eddie walk in. He freezes as Eddie comes up to him before sinking to one knee, eyes widening as the box opens, revealing a simple, black, titanium band.

And then he’s laughing. Full body, shoulders shaking, like Eddie getting ready to bare his heart and soul to him is the funniest damn thing in the world.

Before he can dive too deeply into his wounded pride, Buck’s kneeling too, placing his hands on either cheek, eyes bright with a little mischief and a lot of love as he says, “It’s about damn time, Diaz.”

Eddie blinks, feels his shoulders slump a little. He wishes he was surprised, but he’s really not.

“Who told you?”

“Oh, no one told me, like, specifically. But Maddie finding our grandma’s dress? And Athena conveniently having all of their old wedding planning stuff? Plus, Chim hasn’t been able to look at me without crying for weeks. I don’t know if you know this, but our friends are really bad at being low key.”

Oh, Eddie knows. He had just been hoping (in vain, it seems) that Buck didn’t.

He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, leaning into Buck’s hands still framing his face. “Well, can I at least do my speech? I have it memorized and everything. It was supposed to be for tomorrow, but…” He gestures vaguely, encompassing the whole, beautiful mess this has turned into.

“Of course you can,” Buck says, his smile growing by the second. “But hurry up, because I can’t wait to marry the shit out of you.”

And who is Eddie to argue with that?

He takes one of Buck’s hands, squeezing tight. He already knows the answer, but that doesn’t make him any less nervous.

“Evan Buckley, you are the most amazing man I have ever met in my life, and probably the most annoying.” Buck laughs again at that, and Eddie feels all of his insides swoop, his heart filling with so much adoration it’s probably about to crack. “You are unendingly selfless, unbelievably headstrong, kind and gentle, but would kill a man for the people you love without thinking twice. You have shown me more about what it means to love and be loved than I ever thought I could know. You are also responsible for about 75% of my grey hairs.” They’re both crying now, not even bothering to wipe the tears away, wearing them like badges of honor for each other. “You make me a better firefighter, a better friend, a better father, and a better man. I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much I love you, every minute of every hour of every day.” He takes the ring out of the box, holding it up between them. “I want to have your back forever. Will you marry me?”

He barely has the question out before Buck is tackling him to the floor, kissing him so deeply he feels it in his atoms. He gets the ring on at some point, lips never leaving Buck’s, and they get lost in each other, in happiness, in love, in excitement at getting to spend their lives together, as a family.

Nothing leading up to this was perfect. But he wouldn’t trade any of it — their chaotic lives, their ups and downs, their crazy, unsubtle family — for anything in the world.

But next time he’s planning a surprise, he will absolutely be keeping it to himself.

[jaxl-road]

Scar Tissue, chapter 12

Everything is on the table now, and our boys finally get to talk.

Pairings: Slash/Duff, side Steven/Vince, side Axl/Izzy, side Nikki/Tommy

Warnings: Discussed/implied past abuse (non-explicit)

~~~~~~~~~~~

The alley was dark.

A narrow pocket of shadow amongst the bright neons of the Sunset Strip, ignored by the masses which were drawn towards the lights like moths. Muffled music drifted from within brick walls, and the air was hazy with smoke which seemed to curl and part when the door opened, allowing a tall figure to slip into the darkness to hide.

Duff couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as he ducked out of the club and into the side alley, the pulsing music and overlapping voices softening as the door closed behind him. His PCS was almost completely gone, but he still found himself prone to headaches if he lingered too long around all the flashing lights. Setting his bag and his bass down on a relatively clean looking patch of asphalt, he took out his cigarettes and lit one up as he debated his options.

He had made a decent amount of money from work and gigs this week, so he could probably afford a motel for a night or two. Was that the best use of his money though? If he kept couch surfing like he’d been doing he might be able to save more until he had enough for a deposit on an apartment. That was the better option as far as long term goals. Still, he sighed to himself as he exhaled a long stream of smoke, the idea of not being a burden on someone for a few nights was very appealing at the moment. He was so sick of being in the way.

Before he could come to a decision, the club door burst open, the bassist jumping at the loud ‘BANG’ as it hit the wall, his heart rate skyrocketing at the sudden noise.

“There you are!!”

Standing in the doorway was a scrawny young man with wild blonde hair, grinning widely. Duff found himself looking side to side, trying to find whoever the boy could be talking to, but it was just the two of them in the alley and the other blonde practically skipped over to him. For a moment, Duff was mortified- did he know this person? Oh God, he had no idea who this was, had they met and Duff had forgotten? Had Duff been drunk? Should he just act cool and pretend he remembered him or-

“Hi, I’m Steven!” The cheery blonde offered his hand, clearing up part of Duff’s concerns but not alleviating any of his confusion about the situation.

“Oh, um…” he shook his hand hesitantly, “hi?”

“You’re the bass player from the last band, right?” Steven pointed a thumb back towards the club, still smiling, and Duff is head and shoulders above him but he still finds himself wary.

“Uh, yeah. I’m Duff,” he introduces himself belatedly, “I’m not their usual bass player, I was just, y’know, filling in for the night.”

“I figured, I’ve seen you play with a few different groups. Listen, I’m in a band- I’m the drummer!- and we don’t have a bass player right now.”

“Oh!” Understanding dawns on him, “You want me to fill in for you guys?”

“No, I want you to join us!”

That has Duff blinking in surprise, “What, like, as a regular member?”

“Yeah!” Steven gestures excitedly, “I mean, the other guys will have to approve too- our singer can be a real hardass- but I think you rock!” The drummer must notice his hesitance, because he quickly rambles out, “Will you at least come jam with us? You don’t have to commit to anything right away. If nothing else I think it’d be a good time!”

Duff hums in consideration. He did miss being a regular member of a band. The days with 10 Minute Warning felt so far away now, and jumping between bands was getting tiring. And like the other man said, it wasn’t like he was signing a contract or anything. It was just a jam.

“...Yeah, okay,” he finally answered, “Why not?”

Steven cheered, “Awesome! It’ll be great, you’ll see!” He rattled off an address where his band had been rehearsing occasionally, and they agreed on a time to meet in a few days.

As the drummer turned to leave, Duff had a thought and called out to him, “Oh, hey, Steven?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your band called?”

Turning around, Steven grinned widely.

“Guns N’ Roses!”

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

It’s just starting to get light outside when Slash carefully extracts himself from Duff’s grip, moving slowly and gently, practically holding his breath in an attempt not to wake the tall blonde. Luckily, he doesn’t stir, and Slash is able to slip out of the room. It’s not that he wants to leave Duff- if anything, he feels a stab of guilt for leaving the embrace- but he really had to piss. Also, he was starting to worry that his growling stomach would end up waking the bassist before his movements would, and Duff seemed like he really needed the rest.

Once he finished with the restroom, he wandered into the kitchen. On the way, he noticed a figure sprawled on the couch in the living room. Pausing, he raised a hand in a quiet greeting as Izzy gave him a curt nod. Continuing to the kitchen, he reached into the fridge and grabbed a slice of leftover pizza, not bothering to heat it up or grab a plate. Taking a bite, he glanced back towards the living room. After a moment of mental debate, he left the kitchen.

Izzy was stretched out on the beat up couch, and Slash dropped down across from him, leaning against the opposite arm and casually letting his legs stretch on top of the other guitarist’s. Tilting his head, Izzy gestured at the coffee table where his rig was laying.

“Want some?”

It was a testament to how shitty the past few days had been, because Izzy never shared his stash.

Shrugging, Slash didn’t even try to resist, “Sure. Thanks.”

After a few minutes, once he had finished his pizza and felt the calm of the dope spreading through him, he felt ready to ask, “So. What’d I miss last night?”

“Not much to be honest,” Izzy replied, “I watched Nikki and Tommy get a few hits in, then they dragged him outside and I had to go stop Axl from destroying the dressing room. They seemed pretty damn pleased with themselves when they got back though, so if I had to guess I’d say the bastard is probably just a smear on the sidewalk outside the Whiskey now.”

Slash snorted, “Good.”

"Agreed," Izzy nodded casually.

There was another long silence, Slash opening and closing his mouth several times before finally voicing the question that had been biting him for hours.

“...How long have you known?”

Izzy sighed, leaning his head back against the arm rest to look at the ceiling. “A while,” he admitted flatly. Before Slash could ruminate too much on his answer, he tilted his head to look him in the eye, “Not because he, like, confided in me or anything. Duff didn’t tell any of us, it’s not like he only hid it from you or something.”

“Oh…” Slash feels a little ashamed at the relief he feels at that, but Izzy only shrugs.

“Axl just figured it out. Then he told me because he needed someone to talk to about it. I’m assuming something similar happened with Nikki and Tommy.”

Slash couldn’t help but snort, “God, what a fucked up club I’m apparently a part of. We should make t-shirts.”

“Don’t even fucking joke about that,” Izzy pointed his cigarrette at him accusingly, “If Tommy hears you say that shit he’ll actually make t-shirts. Then Axl will kill him, Nikki will kill Axl, I’ll have to kill Nikki, our bands will go to war like some fucked up Montague and Capulet shit with fucking Vince and Steven in the middle of it and all of that blood will be on your hands, you fucker!”

It felt odd to be laughing in the midst of all that had happened, but Slash couldn’t help it, “Oh come on, if you’re gonna use that metaphor at least make us The Jets and The Sharks!” he giggled. Maybe it was the heroin. Maybe he just really needed to laugh.

Too soon though, his chuckles died off, and he found his mind wandering back to darker thoughts, “Y’know,” he spoke slowly, “part of me can’t help but wish that I’d met Duff…” he waved his hand vaguely, “before,” he sighed. “I love him now. I really do. But I just… I wonder what he was like. I wonder what things would have been like if I had gotten to him first, y’know?” Izzy nodded knowingly, and Slash turned to him, asking casually, “Do you ever feel that way about Axl?”

Izzy takes a long, deep drag of his cigarette and holds it, keeping it in his lungs for so long it has to burn, before exhaling, “Axl doesn’t have a ‘before’.”

Slash closes his eyes as he mutters, “Jesus Christ...”

Across from him, Izzy shrugs, “Yeah.” He taps on Slash’s leg with his foot to get his attention, “It’s okay to wish he hadn’t been hurt, man. It doesn’t mean you love him less or anything.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, “it just…”

“Sucks?” Izzy offered with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Slash huffed out a laugh, “Yeah,” he nodded, “It sucks.”

~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Slash! I have a question,” Tommy skipped over to the guitarist, “You have a pet snake, right?”

“Um,” Slash blinked in surprise at the unexpected question, “I have a couple, yeah, but they’re back at my mom and grandma’s place.”

“Cool, cool,” Tommy nodded, throwing an arm around his shoulders, “I’m trying to convince the guys that we should get a pet-”

Duff titled his head curiously, but before he could find out the rest of Tommy’s inquiry, a hand fell on his shoulder, tugging him to a stop.

Nikki grinned, “Hey, smoke with me for a sec. I haven’t gotten to spend time with my bass bro in ages.”

Nodding, Duff turned to let Slash- his boyfriend, holy shit- know what he was doing, but found himself blinking in surprise when he found the other man gone. A quick glance showed that Tommy was ushering him into the Motley Crue apartment.

“Come on, I promise Tommy wont get him into too much trouble,” Nikki joked, getting his attention again.

Duff chuckled, “I dunno man, the two of them together? I don’t think either of them are exactly known for resisting chaos.”

“Fair point,” Nikki laughed, passing him his lighter until they were both smoking casually. “So,” the dark haired bassist drawled with a smirk, “you and Slash finally stopped dancing around each other, huh?”

Snorting, Duff shrugged, “Apparently. It’s still pretty surreal to be honest.” He was still a little embarrassed at how quickly the terror twins had honed in on his crush when they first met, but their teasing had always seemed good natured at least.

Nikki patted his shoulder, “Slash is a good dude, he’ll treat ya right.”

Maybe it was the nerves, or exhaustion from the show, or exhaustion from the last 22 years, but Duff found himself replying softly, “Yeah...hopefully.”

Turning to look at him, Nikki didn’t look remotely surprised by Duff’s comment, but he still raised an eyebrow questioningly, “You think he won't?”

“I- No, not, not like that,” he waved a hand as he backtracked, “That came out wrong.”

“What did you mean then?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on,” Nikki crossed his arms, and Duff felt like his eyes were staring right through him, “You think he’s a good guy, right? That’s why you like him.”

“Yeah, no, yeah of course,” his hands gestured wildly as he tried to explain himself, “He’s great, it’s just, y’know, even great guys can only put up with so much shit y’know?” He grinned nervously, “I just meant that I hope I don't fuck up. That’s all.”

Nikki narrowed his eyes, but before he could respond, the guitarist in question was jogging over to them.

“Hey guys,” Slash smiled tensely, “I was wondering where you ran off to,” he said to Duff, weaving their fingers together.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Duff gave a nervous laugh. “just got caught up in conversation.”

“Bassist bonding, y’know?” Nikki grinned, taking a long drag of his cigarette and looking at Slash calculatingly.

“Yeah, I’m still trying to convince Mick to join me and Izzy for ‘guitarist get-togethers,” he replied.

“Oh, I definitely need to see that,” Nikki laughed, seeming to relax if just slightly.

Leaning heavier against Duff, Slash turned to him, “I’m pretty beat from the show. I was thinking maybe we could get out of here…?” he suggested with a sly smile.

Duff knew exactly what that meant, and he felt his stomach twist into knots even as he nodded, “Oh, yeah, sure, I-”

“Aw, don’t leave so soon!” Nikki interrupted, giving them exaggerated puppy eyes, “You only just got here,” sauntering around them, put his arms around them both, ducking his head between them, “At least stay for a few drinks.”

As he guided them into the apartment, Duff quietly sighed in relief. He was prepared to do anything Slash asked of him.

But it’d be easier if he had a few drinks in him first.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When Slash returns to his room about an hour later, he is carrying two mugs of coffee and Duff is laying on his stomach with a pillow covering his head.

“...Duff?” Slash whispers, just to be safe, “Are you awake?”

He receives a long groan in response, and he can’t help just let out a snort of laughter.

“I can’t decide if I want to never drink again or never be sober again,” Duff’s muffled voice eventually replies.

Slash shook his head fondly as he chuckled, “Well, I brought you coffee?”

Duff’s movements were tense and hesitant, turning and pulling the pillow away just enough to glance at Slash with one weary, sad eye. After a moment he reluctantly sat up, smiling weakly when Slash handed him his mug, giving a quiet “Thanks” before sipping the drink quietly and staring at his lap.

Sitting on the bed next to him, Slash allowed both of them a minute to just drink their coffee quietly. Duff raised one hand to press his fingers into the side of his head, cringing at what Slash was sure was an impressive hangover.

Keeping his voice soft, Slash jerked his head at the blonde, “How are you feeling?”

Scoffing, Duff ran his hand through his hair, “Fucking mortified,” he replied, voice dripping with self-loathing.

Slash blinked in surprise. He had meant to ask about how Duff was physically feeling, and had expected the bassist to jump at the opportunity to put off an emotional conversation. He wasn’t sure if the unexpected development was a good sign or a bad one.

“Why?”

Duff’s head snapped to look at him, face incredulous, “What do you mean why?” One hand flailed helplessly as he rambled, “My ex showed up and I was a coward and ran off with my tail between my legs, got completely plastered, and then tried to drunkenly jump you like some sort of fucking groupie or something!” He dropped his head roughly onto his knees, his words muffled but no less vitriolic, “And then I fucking cried! Just when I thought I couldn’t get any more pathetic…”

“Hey,” Slash doesn’t raise his voice, but he’s still firm as he tugs lightly on a strand of bleached hair, “stop that. That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about.”

Turning his head hesitantly, Duff’s face was a cross between confusion and hope, “We’re still boyfriends?”

“Wha- of course we are!” Slash cried in dismay.

“...Oh,” Duff sighed, smiling slightly before hiding his face in his knees again as he let out a huff of relieved laughter, “Fuck, man. I figured you were just, y’know, trying to let me down easy,” he waved a hand vaguely, the other still clutching his empty coffee mug.

Slash hesitates for a moment, but then he can’t resist slowly putting an arm around Duff’s shoulders, tugging him closer to lean against his side, “Duff,” he says softly, “all the shit that’s happened this week, and the things you told me… none of that makes me think less of you. None of that makes me... like you less.”

There’s no response at first, and he wonders if Duff believes him. After a minute of just sitting together, Duff finally turns to look at him. He holds his breath, waiting to see how the conversation will move forward. Then the bassist gives a slow, wry grin.

“I need a drink.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

He should probably slow down. He hadn’t eaten since before the show and the bassist was downing vodka like water. That was probably why he barely noticed when Axl linked arms with him and tugged him out of the kitchen.

“Seriously, it’s about time,” the redhead rambled, “Slash has been insufferable ever since you joined Guns. He practically had little cartoon hearts around his head every time you walked into a room.”

Duff chuckled, absentmindedly reaching out to snag another bottle of vodka he saw sitting on the coffee table. “I was convinced I didn’t have a chance with him,” he admitted.

Axl snorted as he scared off some groupies so they could sit on the worn down couch in the corner, “Please. I’m not kidding, day fucking one you could have said jump and he would've said how high.”

“Nah, that’s me,” he grinned, taking another shot from his bottle.

Taking a long sip from his own cup, Axl hummed in consideration, before grinning in excitement, “Oh man, I just realized I totally get to give Slash the shovel talk. I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Frowning, Duff looked at him in confusion, “What?”

“The shovel talk,” Axl repeated, “You know, the ‘you hurt him, I’ll hurt you’ lecture that dads give to dudes who date their daughters. Or so I’ve been told,” he shrugged.

“No I, I know that,” Duff shook his head, “I mean why would you do that with Slash?”

“Because Izzy kept saying I was the band mom, I called bullshit, and after like a week of arguing we eventually compromised on me being the dad.”

Duff nearly growled in frustration, “No, that’s not-” he shook his head, trying to pull his thoughts together, “The whole lecture thing is- I mean, if Slash did do something it’d be because I fucked up, y’know? You can’t threaten him or whatever for something like that.”

For a moment, Duff thought he could see actual flames in Axl’s eyes as the singer nearly slammed his cup down onto the coffee table, “Oh yes I fucking can.”

Eyes widening, Duff could only stare as Axl leaned forward and launched into a frantic rant, “I don’t give a fuck what you do, or think you do, or whatever. If he or anyone else ever lifts a goddamn finger towards you, you fucking tell me. Hell, if someone steps on your goddamn foot I wanna hear about it, do you understand? Tell. Me. Fuck, tell Izzy, or Steven, or fucking Nikki, anyone, I don’t fucking care, but you don’t keep that shit to yourself anymore, got it?”

Axl stared at him intently, and Duff could only gape in confusion, not sure how to respond to his snarling words. But before he had a chance, he felt a kiss on the top of his head, jumping as Slash rested his chin on his hair.

“Hey babe,” he sang, “I missed you!”

In front of him, Axl huffed, narrowing his eyes, “Um, rude? We were clearly talking.”

Slash glared right back, draping his arms over Duff’s shoulders, “Hey, he’s my boyfriend, so I get to call dibs.”

Even as he took another sip of Vodka, Duff couldn’t help but smile. Even after everything, he was still a hopeless romantic. Surely it was all worth it for the way his heart fluttered at that one simple gesture.

Right?

~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you with me?”

Slash can’t help but ask. They’re both on their second beers, silently agreeing to forgo the hard alcohol this morning. They also snagged the rest of the leftover pizza, the nearly empty box sitting open on the bed in front of them as they ate casually.

“I just mean,” Slash elaborated, “it doesn’t seem like you’re exactly… comfortable. With the whole dating thing. So why didn’t you just shoot me down?”

Duff shrugged, shooting him a smirk, “Because I liked you,” he says simply. He takes another sip of his beer as he considers his next words, “I couldn’t help it. You’re cool, and sweet, and talented. And despite, y’know, everything,” he waved a hand vaguely, “the fact that you are unfairly hot did not escape me either,” he grinned, chuckling when Slash shoved his shoulder playfully. “And then against all odds you actually liked me back, and I just...”

He looks down at his hands, peeling the label off his bottle as he admits quietly, “You kissed me and all my self-preservation went out the fucking window.”

Frowning, Slash put his drink down, leaning forward to try to catch Duff’s eye, “You know I’d never do anything to you… right? I mean, I don’t even like getting into fights with people I hate. I can’t even imagine…” he trails off, shuddering at the very idea of hurting Duff. He’s never hit any of his partners, and he’s not about to start now.

Duff hums in consideration, tilting his head and replying slowly, “...I know you’d never hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.” Slash feels his chest tighten, but before he can even begin to think of how to respond, Duff smiles slowly, quirking an eyebrow at him as he lifts his bottle to take another drink.

“All’s fair in love and war. Right?”

~~~~~~~~~

The vodka is really starting to hit by the time Izzy pulls him to his feet so Tommy can take his spot on the couch. Does that stop him from tipping the bottle back to get those last few drops?

Of course not.

He lets Izzy tug him to the other side of the room, Nikki already standing and smoking lazily. Duff nods at him in greeting as he leans heavily against the wall, blinking slowly as the room tilts around him. He’s almost drunk enough, he thinks. Almost.

“Duff.”

Shaking his head to try to focus, he turns to give Izzy his attention. The rhythm guitarist is frowning just slightly, “Duff,” he says again, voice soft, “I’m gonna level with you here. We’re worried about you.”

That has him furrowing his brows, “‘m fine, just…” he waves the empty bottle in his hand, “a little buzzed. That’s all."

“Oh we are definitely not talking about that,” Nikki chimed in.

“I meant we’re worried about you and Slash,” Izzy continued. Duff opened his mouth, but Izzy cut him off, “I know Slash. He’s a really good guy- I don’t think he’d ever do anything to hurt you on purpose.”

“What we’re worried about,” Nikki drawls, “is that he’ll do something by accident and you won't tell him.”

“But…” For a moment, Duff just stares, feeling the floor rock back and forth like a ship on the sea. Then he shakes his head slowly, his eyes drifting shut as he smiles softly.

“That’s what love is,” he explains, “It’s… it’s the people who are allowed to hurt you.”

When he opens his eyes, Izzy is looking at him with a sad, tired expression.

“No,” he says, “it’s not.”

~~~~~~~

“...Do you… still want to give this a shot?”

Duff’s head jerks up to look at him. The room is hazy from smoke, alternating between cigarettes and joints once they finished their beers, the empty pizza box shoved unceremoniously onto the floor.

Slash continues, “I really, really like you, man. But… I’d get it. If you’d rather, y’know, take a step back. You can, if you want, I won’t be mad or anything.”

Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, Duff thinks for a moment, exhaling slowly and tapping his fingers against his knee. When he finally answers, he smiles at Slash shyly, “Is it fucked up that I don’t?” He dropped the end of his cigarette into one of the empty beer bottles next to the bed, “I like you, yeah, but I also like… being with you. Even with the, y’know, stress and whatever, the last few weeks have been really… nice,” he explains slowly before glancing up at Slash out of the corner of his eye, “All this shit has kind of been my attempt at not losing this.”

Despite himself, Slash huffs out a laugh, twirling his lighter in his hand, “Is it fucked up that I’m kind of relieved?” He grins at him, “I don’t want to lose this either.”

Duff shrugged, “Eh. Maybe we’re both fucked up.”

This time, Slash laughs fully, “Yeah,” he reaches out to lace their fingers together, “Yeah, maybe we are.”

~~~~~~

The walk home was gentle. It was their arms around each other’s waists, supporting each other as they swayed, Slash peppering kisses along his shoulder and neck. The vodka keeps him loose and relaxed, and Slash keeps him smiling.

Back home, falling back onto the bed, Duff’s eyes drift shut. Even in the dark behind his eyelids everything still spins, but it’s a slow spin, more hypnotic than dizzying. It slows even more when he feels a weight rest gently on top of him, a soft sigh against his chest.

“Mmmm… Slash?” Duff muttered, turning his head to try to look at the guitarist, a mass of blurry curls blocking his view, “I-... ‘re you…”

Slash hushed him, wrapping his arms around his waist and rolling them onto their sides, tucking his head beneath Duff’s chin, “Long day,” he slurred with a smile, “Let’s just sleep now. I’ll take you on a date tomorrow,” he promised.

Duff can’t remember the last time he was on a date. He feels like he’s dreaming, laying in bed with Slash for the second time in as many days, his arms around him and nothing hurting.

“...Oh,” Duff let out a breath that he feels like he’s been holding since the day they met, “Okay,” he laughed a little, bringing a hand up to smooth back Slash’s wild curls, and he feels a kiss pressed against his shoulder, and warmth that he can’t name spreads across his body.

The guitarist’s breath evens out, falling asleep easily. Duff feels himself drifting as well, but he fights it off as long as he can, wanting to savor this unfamiliar feeling, trying to taste its name before it disappears.

Just as he succumbs to sleep, his tongue finally finds the name.

Safe.

[triptychexe]

TITLE: The Parks

SUMMARY: Teo spends time with his grandmother and mom for the first time since he debuted. 

GENRE: Soft, wholesome, some light comedy  PAIRING: None WORD COUNT: 1.2k WARNINGS: His grandmother makes a comment about him looking too thin/questions him about his diet. Injung’s mom lectures him on drug use at one point too. At the end Asa makes a suggestive comment about Teo’s mom because he’s a whore.

SPRING 2015

“You’re too thin!” Teo’s grandmother scolded the minute he walked down the front steps of his dorm building. 

“Do they have you on one of those diets?” Grandma Park shook her head, taking her grandson into her arms for a hug. “So thin…”

“Grandma, I’m okay. Really. No starvation diets are allowed at HBH.” Injung reminded his grandmother, pecking her on the cheek. “We’re both just worried about you.” Injung’s mother smiled, her eyes crinkling with the curve of her lips. “I missed you, honey.”

Teo let his mom hug him tightly, patting the back of his head. He personally thought his family was being a little dramatic. They hadn’t seen each other in a few months, but it wasn’t like Teo had enlisted or anything. “So, where are the other boys? Are they doing okay?” Teo’s mother pulled away, looking behind Teo at the looming dorm building. 

“You’re asking for my group mates? Mom, I’m right here.” Teo extended his arms, mocking offense. Injung’s mom swatted at her son’s arm, making a tisking noise. 

“Daehyun and Asahiko are my extended sons. You can’t blame me for worrying about them too.” She reasoned. “Plus, they may want to join us for lunch.” “Not when I’m paying.” Teo reminded them, giving his mom a wink. “I got my second paycheck last week. Lunch is on me.” 

The restaurant that Teo decided to take his family to had outdoor seating that looked over the city of Seoul. The weather was just right from on top of the building. Minimal wind and sunny skies. “Injung, help your grandmother work this phone!” Injung’s grandmother complained, the smartphone that Injung bought her last month held in her hands, her eyes squinting at the screen. She was trying to take a picture of her grandson and daughter, but her inexperience with technology was making the task difficult. “Grandma, it’s the white circle at the bottom of the screen.” Injung responded patiently, trying to hold his smile in place while his grandmother figured out her new phone.

“Okay, ready… one, two, three!” His grandmother grinned, finally snapping a picture of Teo and his mother. “Oh, so precious.” Teo looked at the photo and smiled. He missed being with his family and it showed. The smile on his face was so genuine, it warmed his own heart.

“Can you post that on instagram?” His mother asked curiously. “I’ve been looking at all the pictures you boys have been taking. You looked like an adult in those teaser photos!” 

Teo felt his cheeks flush red. Sometimes he forgets that people actually look at the super-dramatic photos that he is in. “Yeah, I can post these on Instagram. I think my fans will appreciate them.” Injung grinned, thinking of all the comments he will receive later when he posts the picture. 

The three of them put away their phones to listen to Injung updating him on his life. They beamed with pride when Injung explained the rush of adrenaline that he receives every time he finishes a live performance. 

“It’s crazy… It’s like some sort of drug has been injected straight into my veins.” Injung shook his head in amazement, still not believing his own reality. 

His mother arched her eyebrow, placing the iced tea in her hand down on the table. “You’re not into that scene, are you? If I find out that my son is shooting up or snorting something I swear on all that is holy...” 

Teo raised his hands in surrender. “Woah, mom, calm down. I’m not doing drugs. My company does not allow that.” 

Injung’s mother didn’t look convinced, her eyebrow still raised. “And I’m not interested. I have other ways of coping.” Injung assured. His mother gave a satisfied huff before taking a sip of her tea. Grandma Park rolled her eyes. “Injung’s a smart boy. He’s not going to waste his time with drugs.” The elderly woman shook her head. “Besides, he wouldn’t want to look like a druggie in front of all those beautiful people that he works with.” His grandmother leaned forward, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Have you met anyone special?” His grandmother asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Teo nearly spit his drink out. “Grandma!” He exclaimed through coughs, trying to clear his airway from the beverage he was drinking. Why was it that his grandmother cared more about his love life than his actual career? 

“You’re surrounded by attractive individuals all the time! If I was you, I’d be going after a nice vocalist. You two would make very talented babies.” His grandmother teased, chuckling to herself as she watched her grandson cover his flushed cheeks with his hands. Injung’s mother laughed at how pink her son had gotten.

“No, grandma, I have not met anyone yet.” Injung responded. “Yet.” His mother nodded. “You’ll meet someone when the time is right.” “Yes, you can’t force a connection. I tried to force something with your mess of a grandfather, look where that ended.” Grandma rolled her eyes. “I didn’t even get that much money out of the divorce.” 

“Mom,” Injung’s mother warned. Grandma Park waved away the comment with her hand. “Anyways, let’s get some wine for the table, shall we?” 

After a few empty glasses and plates full of expensive food, the Park clan made their way back to HBH to drop Injung off. 

“You guys can come visit any time, you know.” Injung reminded them. “I’m busy, but I’m not too busy for you.” 

Injung’s mother cupped her son’s cheek, a proud smile on her face. “You’re doing such a good job, honey. We couldn’t be more proud of you.” “Yes, we’re very proud.” Injung’s grandmother affirmed, coming forward to pet her grandson’s hair. “We love you very much, Injung.” 

Injung felt his throat tighten, and he was sure that his eyes were watering. “Oh, don’t tear up.” His grandmother chuckled. “You’re a Park. Park’s don’t cry over little things like this.” 

Injung took a deep breath, steadying himself. “You’re right. I just missed you.” “We missed you too, baby.” Injung’s mom smiled. “We’ll visit you more frequently from now on, okay?” “Okay.” Injung responded.

“Alright. This was a fun afternoon but I have a doctor’s appointment in an hour.” Injung’s grandmother clapped her hands together. “I wonder how they’ll react when they test my blood and pick up all the alcohol I just consumed with my lunch.” 

Injung laughed, his sadness melting away. “Just tell them you were partying with Triptych’s Teo.” He teased. “Oooh, good idea.” Grandma Park pointed at her grandson with a smile on her face. 

He watched as his family got into the car and pulled away from HBH’s headquarters. He waited until their car was out of sight before entering the building, feeling a little empty inside with the absence of his family. 

In the lobby, Asa was leaning against the secretary’s desk, chatting to the unamused elderly secretary, Son Youngja. 

“Hey, was that your mom?” Asa asked, thrusting a thumb towards the door. 

“Yeah.” Teo nodded.

“I haven’t seen her in so long.” “Me either.” Teo dryly chuckled. “She’s still hot, though.” Asa grinned. Teo made a gagging noise before shoving his friend. Youngja gave Asa her trademark look of disgust, Asa let out a barking laugh. “Youngja, I’m just kidding!” Asahiko insisted. “And you wonder why I never gave you my granddaughter’s number. So disrespectful.” Youngja shook her head in disapproval. This launched Asahiko and Youngja into a debate about Asa’s manners.

Teo couldn’t help but grin. His biological family may not always be around, but his family here was just as familiar. 

[frekydeki]

Cupid Can’t Fall in Love

Part 1

Summary: (AU) Eternal and true love is a business transaction for you. Soulmates are simply two file folders tied together with a golden bow. But when eight folders come across your desk, your job gets a little bit stickier with each passing day. Being a Cupid isn’t so easy as it sounds...

Pairing: (Jihyun x Reader) 

| Part 1 | Part 2: Upcoming 

It’d be beautiful. The golden grass, the falling sun, the gentle and warm wind, the serene silence… It would all be so beautiful if he wasn’t staring into your eyes so tearfully. You trace your eyes over his blue hair and follow the line of his jaw, then his neck, over his collar bone and to his heart. Your e/c eyes widen to the size of the moon; a glowing arrow burns frantically in his chest. You harshly draw in a breath and smack your hand over your own arrow, hammering in your heart.

         You can’t process the tear trailing down your cheek as you turn your eyes away and up to the scattered clouds in the sky. Why? How did this happen? It’s got to be a mistake…

         It’d all be so beautiful… If only you could fall in love.

         How… Did it come to this?

Working for Aphrodite isn’t the most exciting employment option. When you were first born, you took a little bit more to your father’s side, preferring to kick ass here and there. But after a run-in with a seething Achille’s, – you told Zeus to just kill the guy but he insisted you talk it out – you got your butt kicked so bad that even Ares himself worried over you. Your mom said your warrior days were over that day. Nobody defies the word of Aphrodite, after all, and that’s why you’re holed up in this stupid office. Battle armor feels much more natural than the pencil skirt and blouse you’re wearing, but this is what you have now; platform heels, scrunchies, paper cuts, and the sound of typing like chinese water torture to your ears. Lucky you, though! You’ve put in your two millennia to get a personal office, away from all the typing and scratching on parchment; its maybe one of your greatest achievements in the past two thousand years since Aphrodite and Ares put you on the bench.

         This tiny little office is your hell a little bit away from hell, you like to say. You still have mental break downs and panic attack under your desk, and you’ve forgotten what wood your desk is made out of; but at least you get some damn silence. Except for the obnoxious banging on your door that’s happening right now. Is it eight already? The dread of a thousand punished souls in the underworld escapes from your lips in a groan; you barely even filed the cases you finished yesterday. Nevertheless, you roll in your rock hard chair – Hera was kind enough to make you a small cushion, even if it looks like a grandma’s afgan turned cushion, you and your butt love it – to swing your door open at a dangerous speed.

         The young blonde before you smiles and points towards the soft close door.

         “Isn’t it great Ares installed those personally for you?” Her raspy voice sputters to you quickly. Her scrawny finger then points to the coffee mug in your hand, “Hey, is that coffee.”

         “Yeah, what el-“ Your hand becomes lighter as she snatches it from you and takes a long swig.

         “I haven’t slept in like three days,” She babbles to you as she puts the coffee back into your hand and turns to the cart littered with folders, “Finals are next week and I haven’t studied all semester.” You’ve grown used to the incessant mumbling that Angelia lets loose every morning while handing in your cases… She’s like this every week, even without finals. “Becoming a god sure isn’t easy work!” She loudly laughs before continuing on about offerings and the rules of appearing to humans.

         “You know, Angelia, if you didn’t spend all of your time programming social media sites for humans, you’d be able to get your work done.”

         “How else is a messenger god supposed to stay relevant? Dad already does all the messaging between gods, so there’s no work for a dumb college god like me.”

         “You’re in college… That’s your job right now.” Your lidded eyes meet hers as she blows a loose strand of curly hair from her face and drops two folders onto your lap.

         “Yeah but I’ll disappear if I loose followers.”

         “No. You won’t. You’re a god born of two gods, not a god born of need. There’s a clear difference. We survive whether or not humans worship us individually. Plus there’s other jobs for gods to do other than meddling and fucking around.”

         “Yeah but I wanna be a messenger god!” She whines as she drops four more folders onto your lap. “Only eight new assignments today. Lucky you.”

         “L… Lucky me?” You screech at her. “I already have two hundred and eighty- eight active cases!” She surrenders her hands and pursues her lips at you.

         “I don’t decide who gets what cases.”

         “Yeah but you could also maybe throw in a word to Aphrodite and be like, ‘Yeah, boss, don’t you think MC already has enough assignments right now?’ You know, maybe stick your neck out for a friend once in a while?” Angelia continues to stack cases on your lap, unphased by the explosive temper you let loose every morning, and you keep on crying up to her, “Are you listening to me Angelia? I’m drowning in stress right now! If I were a nymph I would’ve shriveled up and died three hundred years ago.” With your pouting expression and whiney voice, you can be compared to a kid whose mom put her favorite cereal back on the shelf.

         “But you’re not a nymph. Yay! You won’t shrivel up and die.”

         “But if I were a nymph I would have. Doesn’t that concern you? I could die!”

         “Gods don’t die.”

         “Yes we do!” You snap up to her grinning face, “And the leading cause is stress!” The over caffeinated girl isn’t moved by your whining, so you switch to a bargaining strategy quickly.

          “Okay, hear me out,” You begin with a lowered voice, “Maybe if you just slip these onto someone else’s desk, and then pretend that you didn’t notice when Aphrodite asks you “What the hell?” By then that Cupid would have already started the assignment so there’d be no point in bothering me to do it.” Angelia drops the last heavy file folder on your lap and shakes her head. You blink as the weight of your coffee is lifted from your hand again.

         “No can do, my friend.” She begins as she sips loudly from your coffee mug, before her face scrunches, “Too much creamer.” Angelia puts the mug back in your hand, all the while you watch her with eyes the size of the moon; is she serious right now? Of course you know there’s too much creamer in there; you just had a late morning so for all you care she can take her scrutiny and shove it. “Anyways, Aphrodite and Eros both said - very strictly, I might add - that these files are meant for your hands only. Anyways, I’m only part time, here. That all is way above my pay grade.”

         “Angelia,” You suck in a heavy breath through your nose to try and curb your frustrations with the shrugging girl before you say, “You suck.” At that, she laughs heartily. She giggles her good-bye to you over the sound of her clicking heels as she moves to give the next guy his shackles for the day. “Hey!” She turns over her shoulder to acknowledge your head poking out of your office, “You tell Aphrodite that if I get any more cases this week I’m going to go ahead and fall in love, ya hear?”

“Yeah, right. Someone like you, fall in love?” She snorts, “Not even Eros would take that assignment.” You lift your lip, eyebrows pinching together, and shout back to her:

“Go bother someone else… I’m gonna be here all night because of you.” She waves and smiles pleasantly, which you return half-heartedly. The door shuts gently, and you groan back over to your desk.

         Eight files don’t sound like much to the human ear, but these files hold every single aspect of the subject’s life, so it looks like the holy bible. It’s not that you mind the read all that much – it’s like a nice little short story – but it’s the paperwork and scheming that you hate with every fiber of your explosive being. You look to the mirror hanging on your wall after glancing through one of the files – these were all a little bit bigger than the normal case – and decide to put your work order in for their vial’s early; it’s going to take a while to gather their life essence. You grab a drachma and turn it about in your hand as you scribble the eight names onto separate blue ribbons.

         “Ánoixe.” You cough, watching the solid mirrors surface begin rippling like water after a stone is thrown into it. “Eudorus.” The rippling increases before orange begins to reflect in the mirror; it slowly stops to reveal the freckled and smiling face of your good buddy. “How are you this fine morning?”

         “Don’t play coy with me, MC. I know you’re only here to give me more work.” Your lips snap shut before you laugh lightly.

         “I’m sorry. I usually wouldn’t bother you about it until tomorrow but… I just got eight new assignments and they’re really big files. I thought I’d give you a head start on getting their essence for me.”

         “Eight!” He cries at you, his freckled cheeks becoming red and eyes watering. “You’re already drowning in work already!” He purses his lips and puffs his cheeks as he mumbles under his breath, “Mom really has to stop giving you so much work. You’ll keel over soon because of lack of sleep.”

         “Can you do this for me? I’ll buy you dinner tonight?” He smiles at you.

         “I’d do it even if you didn’t offer food, but since you did you can’t take it back now. Give me the ribbons and I’ll give ‘em to you at dinner.” You push your hand through the mirror, flinching as the humid air of his workplace gathers to your hand.

         “How do you even breathe in there Eudorus? It’s so humid.”

         “You get used to it after a little.” He stops as he eyes you, his lips parted and brows slack in what you can only dreadfully identify as one thing; concern. “Are you getting enough sleep, MC?”

         “With all these cases on my desk, I can’t afford sleep.”

         “We might be gods and all, but we need our sleep just like the humans.” You grin as you roll your eyes playfully.

         “You’re starting to sound like Apollo.”

         “If he sees you like this MC he’s going to tear you a new one about taking care of yourself, and you know he’s going to crack down on your eating habits! You’re worse than Hades sometimes…”

         “I know, I know… I’ll just avoid him at all costs.” Your half-brother grins at you before he waves the ribbons held lightly in his smooth hands.

         “I better get to work on theses. And you better to, if you want to cut down on those piles on your desk.”

         “You’re right. Have a good one, Eudorus.”

         “Yeah, you too.” You watch as your red-headed brother disappears, and the mirror hardens again. Staring at your reflection, you realize you really do look like you’re on your deathbed. Your skin is a shade or two lighter from its usual hue, hair messily tossed into a bun, your bags much more prominent, and lips pulled down in a frown much more than usual. You look away quickly, recalling Angelia’s words from earlier…

         “Yeah, right! Someone like you, fall in love?” You stare critically at the stack of finished reports you need to put in their rightful files; you will never have one of these for yourself… It’s strictly off limits for you as a Cupid. If you fall in love, you lose your job. Sometimes it makes you mad, other times sad, and some rare times, you’re glad.

         Filing cases is the easy part of your job; all the hard work’s done, now all that’s left is topping off the paired folders with golden ribbons and filing them into your large bookshelf for review and approval by Eros. Eros, that sleaze. It’s been at least a millennium since you went through the trouble of pairing him with Psyche and he still has the nerve to waltz into your office and flirt with you shamelessly. Plus, he gets to keep his job despite being head over heels for his wife; who cares if he’s a primordial? He should be held to the same standards as everyone else!

         That’s not what matters at the moment though, you guess. Getting these cases off of your desk is the priority! You managed to close thirty cases last night, so you just need to focus on getting them all patched up nicely. You glance to the new files on your desk; once this is done you can stick your nose into the new assignments. 

         “Is this a joke, mom?” Saying you sounded as loud as Zeus when he and Hades butted heads would almost do a disservice to your anger. You are livid, fuming, downright insane with rage. Her beautiful violet eyes snap up to your own as she gracefully pushes her blonde hair from her face and folds her hands in front of her.

         “Is what a joke, MC?” Most of the time, her voice would’ve calmed you down to the point of rational thought, but not today. You’re ready to body slam her into Tartarus. You wave the files frantically in front of you and drop them onto her desk, eyes on fire and steam running out of your ears. You’re an Ares level threat right now.

         “What the hell are these assignments?” You screech. Opening the top folder you drop the picture of the blonde on her neat, tidy desk. “Yoosung Kim, 21, college student. He’s fucked up right now, mom. He recently lost his cousin, who, might I add, is also one of these files. How the fuck am I supposed to make a dead woman fall in love? And how the hell am I supposed to make someone like Yoosung fall in love while he is like this?” She opens her mouth to respond but you slap another picture in front of her. “Jumin Han, 26, an executive who doesn’t know the half of relationships and trusting another person. I can’t work with this yet! And don’t you even get me started on Saeran and Saeyong, have you even looked through these files? And Jihyun? What the fuck is going on with this guy?” You feel a large hand plop down on your shoulder. A growl nearly comes from you as you look up to your father, his yellow eyes telling you to try and calm down. “Well when the hell did you get here?”

         “I was here the whole time MC. You just marched in, ready for the kill.”

         “Well if she wouldn’t hand me such bullshit cases on top of all my other cases I wouldn’t feel like murdering everyone on this damn mountain!” Ares chuckles as he shakes his head in amusement.

         “You sure are my daughter, but you’re almost worse than me. What have I always told you, little soldier?” Your mouth draws into a thin line, before you mumble your response so lowly that no one could understand you. “No matter how hard it gets, it is your duty, and so you shall finish it.”

         “It could also be Eros’ duty. Or Agata! She only has like, ten assignments right now.”

         “Yes, my dear. But Agata is also very new to working as a Cupid.”

         “She’s been in the department for two hundred years!”

         “These cases require experience and power greater than that of a two hundred-year-old nymph.” You draw your lips into a thin line and eye your mother critically. What the hell does she expect you to do with this? You’re originally a war goddess. You were meant to fight, not shoot people with metaphorical arrows and make sure they fall head over heels with each other!

         “This is the life you have now, MC.” Ares begins, for like, the millionth time this month. You grind your teeth and step away from him. You know that you have to content yourself with working in a quiet office, watching others fall in love, constantly typing on a computer, wearing these stupid pencil skirts and bows…

         “But I hate wearing these damn heels!” Is all you can screech, childishly. Aphrodite giggles as she stands and walks to you.

         “But they make you look so beautiful.” You send a harsh glare up to her; of course, she doesn’t even flinch cause your glares are as harmless to her as a feather is to a rock. “I trust you to handle these assignments better than anyone working here… Even myself. I wouldn’t have given them to you otherwise.”

         “How do you suggest I start these, then?”

         “Drink their essence and see what they need.”

         “I’m not a damned therapist.”

         “Hear, hear!” Ares uselessly calls as he resumes his seat on the couch. He shrinks a little when Aphrodite sends him a harsh, menacing glare; if there’s one thing all the gods have learned, it’s that Aphrodite – and possibly Persephone – are the scariest when they get mad.

         “Yes, but you will know where to go. I can assure you.” You puff out your cheeks and cross your arms.

         “Fine, but you owe me three weeks of vacation since I can’t go next week anymore!” You hiss as you take the files she’d gathered in her hands before you even simmered down – it’s like she knew she’d win you over – and stomp to the door. “I had tickets to the premier of the new marvel movie! Do you know how expensive those are?” You cry, ready to slam the door shut, but giving your mom one more, half-hearted stare.

         “You’re a goddess, sweetheart. You have an endless supply of money.”

         “That doesn’t mean I want to waste it!” And you move to slam the door shut, but it slows just at the end. You swear your eyeballs set on fire as you realize that your father installed yet another soft close door because of you.

         What’s your plan? Dive in head-first and get blind-sided at every corner like Zeus? No way, just thinking about that has you ready to start another war. You need a plan, a good plan, and as much information as you can get. Meaning you’re going to have to work with their guardians. Pompous, inconsiderate, above the law shit heads is what guardians are. In your millenniums, you’ve avoided most, if not all, contact with them. You don’t work well with big heads; they always mess things up because they’re always right, narrow-sighted, and rash. Add to that the state that these wards are in, you can’t imagine these guardians will be the best help… But you’ve got to take whatever you can get.

         And that’s why you’re sitting at a large table of seven guardians, enjoying a measly meal of chicken tenders and fries; ambrosia is too damn expensive these days. But you suppose that as the times have changed, your offerings and followers have fallen to a measly, absolute zero. No worshippers? No ambrosia. It’s a good way to stir up some envy here on Olympus.

         “So, what do you need, Cupid?”

         “I need to know about your wards.” You sigh as you plant a folder in front of each guardian. You point to the empty chair and raise your brow, “Where’s Mina’s guardian?”

         “Uh, she’s out on sick leave.”

         “I thought you guys were invincible?”

         “Well, after all the times she’s worked, I’m sure she needs a break for a little.” Aeneas snaps at you. You roll your eyes; guardians were specifically designed to do everything but need a break. You’d have to check in with Zeus later to see what the hell is going on with her.

         “Okay, whatever.” Continuing, you decide to get straight to the point, “Tell me everything you know about your wards. Why are they in the state they’re in?”

         “Some wards are harder to guide than others.” Jac gently speaks. You look to the soft-featured man, nodding your head. You know that… You’ve always treasured Jac as a guardian, he’s one of the few to look at you on equal grounds.

         “I know. I’m sorry if it felt like I jabbed at you. Could you all maybe explain to me what you’ve learned does or doesn’t work with these wards?”

         “Of course… We’ll do as much as we can to help…”

[calpalirwin]

You’ll Always Have Me

Summary: Alyssa and Ashton have been best friends ever since Alyssa moved in across the street the summer before second grade. Together, they were tackling the stereotype that boys and girls can’t just be friends. That is, until they almost kissed right before their junior year of high school. Can their friendship survive the jealousy that stems from their newfound feelings? And what happens when they realize these “newfound feelings” really aren’t all that new?

And away, and away we go!

Chapter 12

~Alyssa~

So Calum was jealous of my relationship with Ash, I thought to myself later that night. Because he thought I was amazing. Well, he wouldn’t think I was that amazing if he could see the things I thought about Ash, that was for sure. 

I shook my head to get rid of the thoughts. We’d barely been dating a week, and I did actually like Calum. He made me laugh, and it was hard not to be totally smitten with that smile of his. His dark eyes and even darker hair made it easier to push Ash out of my mind. It wasn’t impossible to imagine the thought of actually falling in love with Calum. In fact, it was highly probable that I eventually would.

Right until the day before I left for my grandparents for the summer, my group of friends expanded from four to six. Although I was still a far ways off from considering Kayla to be my friend, she certainly wasn’t the enemy either. 

I talked with Calum nearly as much as I talked with Ash while I spent my summer days with my family at my grandparents. Mike was in a pissed mood the first week because he had been dragged along for a final family summer because “C’mon, Mike, you’ll be off to college and who knows when you’ll be home.” But he eventually got over it, more so because he had talked Crystal and our parents into having her spend the last two weeks of our month long visit with him.

I watched them with envy as they threw each other around in the pool or giggled secretly over breakfast as they reminisced about the night they had no doubt “shared” together.

After a few days of watching them, I broke down on my nightly phone call with Calum. “You sound upset, you okay?” he asked after he answered my throaty hello.

“I mean, I guess. I think I just miss you or something,” I told him, trying to swallow the sudden lump in my throat.

“You say the sweetest things, baby,” he teased. “I miss you, too. When are you coming home?”

“A week and a half. But, if I hear Mike and Crystal one more time I swear I’ll throw up.”

“Well, maybe your parents will let me come and visit? Cuz they let Crystal?” he suggested.

“Your parents won’t get mad?” I asked, trying to contain my sudden excitement.

“Nah, my sister’s been out here visiting all summer so they’re a tad preoccupied.”

“Okay, I’ll ask.”

“Well, do it now, goof,” he chuckled.

“But, I’m talking with you.”

“Yeah, so ask them while I’m still on the phone with you.”

“Ugh, fine,” I said, getting up and making my way through the house. “Hey, uh, is it cool if Cal comes and stays a few days?” I asked once I found my parents. “I mean, Mike brought Crystal.”

My mother sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Mike was allowed to invite Crystal because I didn’t want him to spend his last summer sulking in his room.”

“Oh, so it’s cool if I sulk because I’m still in high school?”

“Lyssa,” my father warned softly.

“Dad, c’mon. That’s bull and you both know it. C’mon, I’ve never asked to invite anyone. Whereas, I distinctly remember Crystal being around here last summer too, because Mike couldn’t bear to be separated from his new girlfriend.”

My dad sighed similar to the way my mom had only moments before.

“Just a few days. Please?”

“Just a few days, what?” my grandma asked, coming into the living room.

“Nana!” I perked up. “My boyfriend, Cal, wanted to see if he could come visit for a few days. He really wants to meet you and Pops.”

“Alyssa has a boyfriend?” my grandma asked, grinning. “Of course he can come visit a few days! We have plenty of room!”

“Thank you, Nana,” I told her, shooting a winning smile at my parents.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said before exiting the room.

“Nice move, dragging my mother into this,” my dad told me. “Fine, Calum can come stay.”

“The rest of the visit?” I asked.

“Don’t push it. You’re lucky I don’t ground you for that attitude of yours.”

My mom scoffed. “Ground her for what? Being right that we let Mike invite his girlfriend last year?”

My dad turned to her, shocked, “I thought you didn’t want Calum to come. That’s why I was helping you play bad cop!”

“No! I like Calum, he’s a sweet kid. I was just mad that Lyssa’s first thought is to always throw something we did with Mike at us when she asks us for something.”

“I’m gonna go now,” I said, pointing to my phone where Calum was, hopefully, still waiting on the other end. “So, when are you coming?” I asked, once I had flopped down on my bed.

“I can be there tomorrow, first thing. How long should I pack for?”

“How long do you want to stay?”

He laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, babe. Sleep well.”

“If I sleep at all. Night.” After I hung up, I quickly texted Ash, Luke, and Sierra the good news. Luke sent a thumbs up, while Sierra texted a stream of happy emojis. Ash, in true Ash fashion, called.

“So, you’ll invite Calum, but not your best friend?” he asked as soon as I answered.

I laughed, “Well, hello to you, too.”

“Yeah, sure, hi. Traitor.” In my head I saw his lips curve up in a smile before I heard his giggle. “But, that’s cool you’ll get to spend some time alone with him.”

“Yeah, I didn’t realize how much I miss him.”

“Have you guys said that you love each other yet?”

“No.”

“Do you though?”

I took a deep breath. I had been thinking about it a lot since school ended about whether or not I loved Calum. I loved things about him. Like the way his brown eyes danced when he laughed, or they way he always hugged me tight like he was afraid to let me go. What I loved most though was that he made me forget how I felt towards Ash. I had relayed as much as that to Sierra and she had told me the obvious: that I was definitely in love with the boy.

“Aly? You there?” Ash’s voice sounded, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I told him. “Holy fuck, I’m in love with Calum Hood,” I said out loud, hearing myself say the words for the first time.

I heard Ash scoff through the phone. “Night, Aly. See you when you get home.” He disconnected the call before I could say bye back.

[lifeoftheparty74]

“Don’t you ever do that again.”

A/N: Dad!Shawn. I’m kinda nervous about this one, but I also kinda like it. I hope you do too!

Pairing: ShawnxReader, and their daughter is in a relationship too

Word count: 1446

Warnings: Could be triggering to some, involves self-harm. Skip if that’s not your thing

You were cutting carrots for dinner tonight, waiting for both your husband and daughter to come home.

Skylar always walked home from school, and should be here within now and ten minutes. Shawn said he would make sure he came home around the same time as her, because she would go on a week long school trip tomorrow and we wanted to spend the afternoon toghether.

You heard keys in the lock, and stopped what you were doing to listen who it was. As soon as you heard the first two footsteps, you called him. "Hey babe, how was the studio?"

"Yeah, it was good, we wrote another song. I'll let you hear it after we record it, I think you'll love it. Is Sky home yet?"

"No, she should be here any minute."

"M'kay." He murmured as he kissed your cheek and washed his hands to start helping you prepare dinner.

Five minutes later, the door opened as Sky walked in.

"Hey sweetie, how was school?"

When you didn't hear a response other than soft sniffles, you spun around and without knowing what was going on, you wrapped your arms around her shaking figure.

"Hey, Sky, it's okay. Calm down honey." You knew your daughter couldn't talk when she was this upset, so you let her rest her head on your shoulder while Shawn stood behind her, rubbing her back up and down in an attempt to calm her down.

"Hey, hey, princess, it's okay. We're here."

It took a couple of minutes for her to regulate her breathing, and when she did, she stayed silent for a while.

"Honey? Want to tell us what's wrong?"

"I-"

Her sobs started again, and Shawn picked her up and carried her to the couch.

She cuddled into his side instantly. "He b-broke up with me."

You immediately sat closer to her, knowing how much she liked her boyfriend Jason.

"I'm so sorry Sky."

Shawn looked furious. "I'm going to kill him."

Skylar sat up quickly. "No, dad, don't! He didn't mean to hurt me, he was really sweet. He  just doesn't like me anymore."

Your husband still looked like he could kill someone. "Shawn, not now." You nodded towards your daughter, and Shawn understood what you meant as he pulled her even closer.

***

The rest of the afternoon, Sky helped prepare dinner while the three of you sang out loud to Shawn's songs in an attempt to cheer her up. It definitely helped a bit as she was grinning a little and sang along loudly.

When you were almost done, she asked if she could go upstairs to change.

"Sure, honey, dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes, okay?"

"Mhmm." She nodded and ran up the stairs.

You sighed and turned to your husband.

"Do you think she honestly is okay?"

"I don't think so. She looks like she is, but she really liked that dude. I think she just needs a couple of weeks to get over him, she'll be fine."

You nodded. "Hopefully."

You set the table as he turned off the speaker.

"Sky, you coming?"

"Just a sec!" She yelled back, her voice cracking at the last word. You and Shawn laughed loudly, and get a "Shut up!" as response.

A couple of seconds later, she descended down the stairs and sat down quickly.

During dinner, the conversation went everywhere, as it usually did. It went from school, to Shawn's new song, to the annoying customer you had to deal with today, to the trip to Toronto you were planning for this Christmas to visit Shawn's family.

"Sky, can you pass the salt?" As you got it from her, your hand touched her wrist.

And she flinched.

Shawn hadn't noticed anything yet, but your hart was slowly breaking.

Please, no. You begged. Please, God, tell me I'm wrong. Tell me she didn't.

"Skylar, show me your wrist."

Shawn looked at you puzzled, not having caught on yet.

Sky looked at you. "What?"

"Show. Me. Your. Wrist." You managed to get out, and you could see Shawn's features tensing up, starting to get an idea of what was happening.

She slowly lifted up her left sleeve, showing her perfectly clean wrist.

You shook your head. "The other one."

Sky shook her head, eyes begging you not to.

"Show me your right wrist right now, Skylar Karen Mendes."

Tears started streaming down her precious face, and as she lifted up her sleeve, both you and Shawn had to grab the table to keep your sanity.

Your daughter, the person you loved most in this entire word, did this to herself. Your own flesh and blood was hurting so much she thought that this was the solution.

The cuts were all fresh and red, a little blood still seeping out of them.

Sky had hidden herself in her hoodie, but let you pull her against you, trying to ease your sobs by holding her.

Shawn stood up, walking around the table as he wrapped his arms around the both of you. "Holy shit," he got out, and when you felt your forehead get wet, you realized he was crying too.

You'd seen Shawn cry exactly two times: the first time was when his grandma Avo had passed and the second time was when he first held Skylar in his arms.

"Holy shit, Sky." He sobbed again.

You cried as you realized the pain all three of you were going through at the moment. Skylar, hating herself so much she did this to herself. Shawn, realizing that his daughter was questioning her being on this planet. And you, seeing you daughter and husband in agony like this, knowing the pain both of them were experiencing.

"Shit, Sky." You cursed out, more out of frustration towards yourself for not noticing, than towards her for doing this.

After a couple of minutes Shawn regained his breath and started talking.

"I never thought that I would actually have to say this to anyone, ever, and it's kind of hard to tell my daughter. But I self-harmed too."

You knew this. He'd mentioned it, and he was still struggling with it when you first met. But he recovered quite quickly, and never liked to talk about it.

Sky looked up with huge eyes, not believing her father, but he nodded.

"I did. For years, before I met your mom."

Sky had also calmed down a little, and stared at him with hurt in her eyes.

"Around the time I started writing my third album, I started to deal with anxiety. Sometimes it got so bad, I felt like I needed to do something to ground myself. And for me, that was cutting.

"But then I met your mom, and she brought so much joy into my life. She made me see every positive aspect in life. I stopped self-harming, and to this day, it is one of the thing I regret most. Every day, I have to look at the scars I inflicted on myself. Every day, I am reminded of what a mess my life once was.

"In that period of time, I always felt like I was alone. Like I had no one to rely on.

"But I did.

"I had my parents. My sister. My friends." He looked at you smirking. "My girlfriend.

"You have us, Sky. I love you. I will never, never, leave you. You're my daughter: the most important part of my life. I love you so much, more than anything else. You know that if there is ever anything you need, I'm always here. And it hurts that you didn't think of that while you did this." He embraces her again, nuzzling his head into her hair. "I love you, baby."

She hugs him back tightly. "I know, dad. I know."

"C'mon." You'd finally regained your voice, and stood up. "Let's get this cleaned up."

Sky started to get up, but Shawn picked her up bridal style before she could. She giggled softly and hid her face in his shoulder.

Shawn set her down on the counter, as you got the alcohol to disinfect her wounds. She hissed in slight pain when you pushed the cotton ball against her skin, but was okay after.

"Oh, baby." You sighed softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before Shawn carried her upstairs. "Are you gonna go straight to bed?"

"Yeah." She quickly got ready for bed, and then kissed the both of you goodnight, before she went into her room.

Shawn smiled wearily as he saw the tears still running down your face. "She'll be okay, hun."

"Yeah," you replied, wiping them away. "I hope so."