#also i can’t believe it’s been three years since i made that tomorrow tea au thing

[mabbbish]

mental illness crossover episode

[mieohmy]

𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗋 | 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝗐𝗈𝗈

PAIRING: CEO boss! jeon wonwoo x secretary! reader 

GENRE: fluff, angst, humor, office au

WC: 5k (whoops got carried away- i mean its wonwoo)

NOTES: mentions of death, depression 

SUMMARY: you loved being a secretary, the work and stress included. but your ‘stone cold’ boss was really testing your limits in more ways than one. alternatively, who knew mighty CEO jeon wonwoo was such a softie?

update: part two can be found here !

update 2: final part → here 

❋

“Yes, sir. Also, the opening ceremony is today at 7pm. Would you like me to set up your chauffeur?” The man nods. “Yes, make sure to finish the layout for tomorrow. And the catalog by Thursday. That’s all, you’re dismissed.” You bow politely before turning and exiting his office. 

You take two steps forward before displaying a scowl and muttering, “never get a break. not even a thank you. just wait, jeon wonwoo, one day i-“ “Y/n!” A voice snaps you out of your trance, spotting Seungkwan walking your way. 

Greeting him, you ask, “What’s up?” “We’re getting food tonight. Team dinner at 7. Can you make it?” he says. You sigh before replying apologetically, “Sorry.... boss wants me to finish something up for tomorrow.” 

Seungkwan taps his feet in disapproval. “The CEO is still giving you more work? When will that man ever let you have a break?” You grit your teeth, attempting to smile. Seungkwan stares at the CEO's office. 

“Y/n, you work the hardest out of all of us, and you have to deal with him every day. If there’s anyone who deserves a rest, it’s you. Our team’s planning on going to the beach on the weekend since we have Friday off. You should join us. It’ll be really fun!“

Contemplating for a moment, you’re about to accept before you suddenly remember what Friday is, eyes widening. Turning to Seungkwan, you smile sadly. “I really-like you don’t even know-really want to go, but I have something really important on Friday. I’m so sorry.” He nods, reassuring you it’s fine. “Well, you can join us on Saturday then!” 

You bow, biting your lip as you continue on. You totally forgot what day Friday was. 

❋

The rest of your shift was rough. Wonwoo, AKA your horrible boss, didn’t seem to want to give you a break. The past few weeks had been very tightly packed with the upcoming debut, and although you understood it was very important, sometimes it felt like your boss didn’t know you were human too. 

Waking up at 5 am, driving to his place and setting up, and then getting to work was exhausting. Not to mention the late nights working on assignments. It all came with being a secretary, but recently, you didn’t know if you could keep going. Maybe it had something to do with your boss’s attitude as well. 

Jeon Wonwoo, CEO of one of the largest writing and printing companies. Exactly how you expect. Handsome, cold, quiet. You’re pretty sure he’s rejected more than a hundred women who attempted to ask him out. What did he even do for fun? Lame word searches?

When you first started working as his secretary, you had at least one breakdown a day. Everything you did was wrong, Wonwoo’s ‘redo it again’, echoing in your mind. He never cared about your feelings, just your work. You needed the job to help your family since it had good pay, and your siblings were focused on school. So it was up to you to provide for your family that you weren’t even close with.

You and your coworkers loved to complain about wonwoo’s cold attitude and the workload he gave out. Sure he was handsome, but it didn’t matter to you since his attitude was such a shutdown. You blamed him for not having a social life or a boyfriend, but of course, he didn’t care. 

That just made you want to work even harder. You stayed up countless nights practicing, studying to be perfect. Until Wonwoo tolerated you. Everyone knew you as Jeon Wonwoo’s longest secretary. It wasn’t easy work, but it made you feel proud, and you were able to push through working for him. 

At least before recently. Wonwoo was extremely busy with the preparations, and so were you. You understood, he was stressed, but was taking it out on you okay? You really contemplated quitting, but this time of the year was extremely important, so you would have to wait until after the new debut passed. I mean, you were kind enough to start the resignation after finishing the event, unlike another person you knew.

Wonwoo calls you into his office late that night, the floor almost empty. You walk in, carrying the same tea you always brought at the now perfected temperature. Setting it down, you bow before asking, “you called for me, Mr. Jeon?” You can tell he’s frustrated by his ruffled hair and wrinkled collar. Your fingers itch, wanting to fix it. 

“Finish the chart for tomorrow. I want you to adjust my schedule since father’s coming by. Cancel everything before 10.” You tense, feeling the frustration course through you. “But sir, I already got all the-“ “I don’t care, change it. You can go now.” You tightly bow and leave, fuming in anger. 

❋

You’re not surprised you only got three hours of sleep. It was a regular thing these days. Groaning, you get ready as usual like every day, the schedule drilled into your brain. You grab a shirt, frowning as you remember the one time Mr. Jeon called your fashion taste revolting and ordered you to a complete wardrobe change. 

It was finally Friday, the day you were anticipating the whole week. Also the one day you got off from work early and seeing Mr. Jeon’s face. You couldn’t wait until 5 when you were done and could prepare for later. The whole week was awful, you’re pretty sure you looked like a raccoon with the amount of sleep you got. 

You’re typing furiously at your desk when Seokmin comes by. His footsteps alert you. “Oh, hey Seokmin. What’s up?” He grins. “Did Seungkwan tell you about what we’re doing later today?” You attempt to smile. “Yeah, I’m sorry I can’t make it. I’m busy later. Can’t wait to get off.” He claps, rubbing his hands together. “It’s alright. Don’t work too hard.” 

You smile, winking. “Don’t worry. And try not to have too much fun without me!” The buzzing on your desk interrupts you, causing you to groan. “What does he want now?”

Walking in, you find Wonwoo signing documents. He doesn’t even look up as he says, “I need you to complete the finalizing documents right now.” You pause, processing the information. “Wait, but those will take me at least four hours. My shift ends in one.” 

He finally looks up, face devoid of any emotion. “Well, that’s your job. You’re expected to do it.” You feel your heart speed up, tightening your hands into fists. You respond shakily, “I’m sorry sir, but there’s something really important I have to do tonight. I can get Mr. Lee to finish it. Can’t you let me go this once?” 

“But why? You’re supposed to do what I ask?” His voice sounds annoyed, bored even. You scoff, feeling your eyes burn. “Those last couple of weeks I’ve been doing everything you asked, even more. Don’t you think I deserve a break?” 

“You signed up to be my secretary. What kind of breaks do you expect? Things are very tense with the new debut now, so don’t expect me to take pity and let you go just because you did what I said,” Wonwoo retorts.

That was it.

You hated yourself. You hated yourself for snapping. But at the same time, you didn’t. 

You slam your papers on the table, shaking. “I work basically 24/7, every day, running errands for you and doing everything you tell me.” Your voice cracks, and you feel hot tears run down your face. 

“And you don’t even have the respect to treat me like a human being? I wake up immediately thinking about what you’re going to make me do for the rest of the day.” A sob escapes you. 

Wiping your tears angrily, you continue to stare at him with wide, furious eyes. “I go to sleep thinking about what I have to do for you the next day. But you don’t even thank me. Not once. No appreciation when I try to impress you and go above and beyond. And then you won’t even let me have one break? I don’t even get vacations or holidays off!”

You sniffle, body shaking, as you let the words sink in. “I signed up to be a secretary, not disrespected.” And with that, you walk out with tears pouring down your face, grabbing as much of your stuff as you can and leaving, ignoring the shocked whispers and startled questions.  

❋

Once you get home, you slap yourself. What did you just do? What did you just say to your boss? Oh god, ex-boss now. You’re dead. Officially. You feel numb like you just watched a confusing movie and were trying to process everything. 

You want to bury yourself in the ground. Or become a rock. That’d be way nicer than being yourself right now. 

But you have to continue on. You don’t even care if you’re going out wearing sweats and a hoodie. He wouldn’t care. After buying everything, you drive to the spot. You pass blurs, barely paying attention as you blankly stare at the road. 

Once you get out, you feel the drops, glancing up. You didn’t realize it was raining while you were driving. You let the water pour over you, making your way to the familiar stone.

Stopping in front, you sink to your knees. 

“Dad...I’m so sorry I’m late. Can you believe I basically threw a tantrum in front of my boss? Well, ex-boss?” Laughing weakly, you wipe the tears you didn’t notice had run down your face. “I don’t have a job anymore, that’s for sure.” 

You look around, your whole body soaked now. Softly, you arrange the flowers neatly in front of his grave. “Are you still proud of me dad?” You smile weakly, adjusting yourself comfortably on the cold wet ground. “I’m so sorry... happy anniversary, still. Another year passed. How are you?” 

❋

You spend days at home, never leaving your bed, only allowing yourself to mope about your life. Your phone is spammed with texts and calls. Probably from coworkers, you figured. You didn’t have enough energy to respond. 

You sighed for the millionth time. Everyone had probably heard about your childish rant in wonwoo's office. How could you let yourself break like that? No one had contacted you and deemed you officially fired, but you knew it the moment you opened your mouth. Maybe finally going outside and getting snacks would cheer you up. 

Cringing, you saw yourself in the mirror. Just like someone who got broken up with by their partner. I mean, it’s not like you had a job anymore or anyone to impress, so you just shrugged and went out for the first in a while.

Entering the store, you walk down an aisle, glancing at the options. You’re squatting, choosing between banana or strawberry when you spot movement in the corner of your vision. It’s just a man looking at the ice cream, but it’s what he’s wearing that catches your attention. 

You raise an eyebrow. Who goes to a mart in a full suit and tie like that? Scoffing internally, you bite the inside of your cheek. Ha, he looks like- The man suddenly turns, and you can never mistake that face. 

BEKDJRE WHAT IS MR. JEON DOING HERE?? You whip your head back, hoping, praying, that he doesn’t recognize you in your horrible clothes. Your heart pounding loudly, you stand up, deciding just to get the heck out of there before-

Oh ****. Why does he have to stand right next to you? 

You internally freak out, don’t make eye contact I swear to god y/n if you do you’ll- 

“What do you recommend? Melon or banana?” You recognize his deep voice and freeze. Is he talking to you? Maybe he doesn’t know who you are??

Facing away from him, you respond in a croaky, low voice. “U-uh banana?” You catch him nodding in the corner of your eye. 

Time to escape. You turn, briskly walking away until a hand abruptly grabs your wrist, preventing you from leaving. Panicking, you don’t move, not wanting to expose your identity. What does this man want??

The hand on your wrist doesn’t loosen, instead, it tightens and spins you around until you’re face to face with him. Your now-former boss, Jeon Wonwoo. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t have an angry look on his face. Instead, he simply says, “Y/n, I know it’s you. It seemed like you when you walked in. And the fact that you chose banana instead of melon for me because you know I hate melon confirms it.” 

You open your mouth before lamely responding, “Could’ve been a lucky guess?” 

❋

 You would’ve never expected yourself to be outside a grocery mart at 1 am with jeon wonwoo.

Awkwardly shuffling on your feet, you watched as wonwoo paid for your treats. He insisted on it for some reason, and you knew you couldn’t beat him when he looked at you with that face. Chills ran down your spine whenever you thought about it.

When he finishes, you walk side by side out the door, a silence between the two of you. You wait a couple seconds before you can’t take it anymore. 

You quickly fall to your knees in front of him, head down as you plead, “Please forgive me, Mr. Jeon. I-I didn’t mean anything I said. I was just extremely stressed- I completely understand if you never want to see my face again, although I’m not sure why you confronted me today and bought stuff for me but it doesn’t matter anymore- It was completely rude of me, and I just hope you’ll accept my apology.” Finishing your ramble, you keep your head bowed and eyes squeezed shut as you await his response. 

You almost don’t notice it, it was so gentle. Wonwoo’s hand slowly reaches forward and tilts your chin up, and you don’t realize your heart speeding up. He squats in front of you, his face seems surprisingly amused. 

You would’ve never expected the words that came out of his mouth next, either.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I realized the workload I put on you, and it wasn’t wrong of you to burst out on me. I’m afraid I’m not good with words, but after you disappeared, I realized how much you do for the office. Truly, I appreciate your hard work. Hopefully, you can come back to work once you feel fit.” 

You stare at him, processing the words that the CEO of one of the biggest printing companies just said. 

You stay still, eyes still boring into his until you’re finally able to break out of it. You abruptly stand up, dusting yourself off. You breathe a sigh of relief, muttering, “thank you for not firing me.” You clap your hand over your mouth, surprised eyes moving to look at wonwoo. 

You watch as wonwoo’s lips slowly turn up, letting out a quiet chuckle. You blink. Did he just laugh? Like fr? Oh my god, you have to tell Seungkwan. His voice interrupts you. “I should drive you back to your place, it’s getting late.” 

Your eyes widen in shock. Shaking your head, you reply, “oh no, it’s fine. I’ll walk home. It’s not far.” He insists, and of course, you aren’t able to say no. 

It’s an awkward drive as you direct your boss to your apartment. Once you arrive, you quickly thank him, and he smiles. What the-

“Well, I hope to see you soon at work, secretary y/n.”

You can only nod, dumbfounded. You had never seen him smile before, and it was kinda nice.

You numbly wave goodbye as he drives off, entering your apartment and crashing into bed. 

❋

After two days, you’re back in action. The second the elevator doors open, a swarm of people rushed up to you. You stand there as people begin talking, asking questions. You feel like a celebrity being interviewed by paparazzi.

You take a step forward, pushing past everyone. It didn’t feel right to have to answer their questions. You settle at your office, politely asking people to stop asking. Eventually, the crowd leaves.

You’re unpacking the stuff you took home in a blaze of anger when you hear footsteps approach. Sighing, you turn around. “I’m sorry, I don’t- ..Dokyeom?” 

“Y/n!!! What the frick happened? All we know is that you stormed out of the building and didn’t come back for a week!! And with our project, things were going crazy without you...”

Grimacing, you say, “I know, I know, I’m sorry.  It’s stupid, but I’m back for real now. Promise.  I’ll explain it all later, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” 

Dokyeom sighs, giving you one last ‘you better not forget’ before leaving you. 

It takes hours, but you’re finally able to get wonwoo’s schedule up to date. You check the time. Shoot. Wonwoo usually expects tea at this time.

You quickly run over to the drink station, hoping no one comes up to you. You glance around, mostly everyone’s focused on their work and staring at their computer screens. 

You’re pouring the hot water when a familiar voice calls your name. Turning, Wonwoo comes into view. You immediately jump, causing the hot water to splash onto your hand. 

Letting out a hiss of pain, you drop the cup. The sound alerts the workers in the room, most beginning to notice your presence. 

Wonwoo quickly walks over to you, gently taking your hands in his. “Are you alright?” You gape at him, and you’re pretty sure everyone else in the room is dumbfounded too. Whispers immediately break out. 

You snatch your hands from him and quickly bow. “I’m fine, thank you, sir.” Forgotten tea, you dash to the bathroom. Huffing, you place your hands on the sink.

What happened to your boss and why do you kinda like it? The feeling of his warm hands over yours causes you to shiver. You punch the sink, grumbling. 

“Ughh seriously, what’s wrong with this guy?  I yell at him and suddenly he becomes this nice guy? And then in front of everyone too?”

❋

It doesn’t stop after that. For days, jeon wonwoo would somehow make his way to you and act all nice. Sometimes in front of others, and sometimes when it’s just you two in his office. You would always feel hot and nervous afterward randomly. 

It began spreading around the office. What happened to CEO Jeon and why did he become so nice to you? You heard some of the rumors, ‘probably slept together’ ‘did they find out some juicy secret about him? ..’

It was annoying, but you tried to ignore it. You were able to explain everything to doykeom and seungkwan. They were the only ones who knew about the late-night grocery mart trip and wonwoo’s sudden kindness. 

You wanted to confront him, really. And you tried, but he would just say it was because you were his secretary that worked so hard for so long. 

You wanted it to stop. You wanted it to stop cause you liked this side of him, and you didn’t want to admit it.

❋

It all changed one day when you received a text at work. From a number that you didn’t recognize. At first. 

After reading it, you immediately shot up from your desk. Wonwoo came from his office, walking over to you, but you hurriedly made an excuse and ran out, leaving him surprised. 

Groaning, you noticed the rain. Perfect timing... You braced yourself and ran through the pouring rain. You had to get there, no matter what. You were soaked, gasping for air, once you reached the stone. 

They left. You stood there, staring down at it. 

It was just you and the rain.

Until it wasn’t, anymore. You look up. It’s a black... umbrella? Spinning around, you come face to face with a suit. An extremely familiar one.

“M-mr. jeon?” He’s holding the umbrella and staring at you, but it feels like he’s looking into your soul. 

You blink, eyes flicking down to the wet ground. It’s silent until he speaks up. “Why did you suddenly come here? Y/n?” 

You slowly turn back to look at the plaque. “This is where my dad is,” you softly say. There’s a pause before wonwoo responds, “I’m so sorry.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. This is why I blew up last Friday. I was supposed to be here that day.” You feel wonwoo tense next to you. 

Before he can say anything, you face him. “It still doesn’t excuse my behavior. But.. why did you follow me?” He fumbles a bit before replying, “it was raining.. it wouldn’t be safe for you to go alone.” 

You laugh, a pleasant sound ringing in wonwoo’s ears before saying, “thank you. And, I came here because of my family. You might not have known this, but I got this job to help them. After my father died, my mother became depressed and my siblings couldn’t do anything. So I had to get a job to support them.” 

You bitterly smile before continuing, “I’m not even close with them. I was too busy working, and my mother was too busy moping. My siblings are busy with school, and I never see them anymore. It’s gotten to the point where I just pay their bills and don’t even speak to them. Ha, they finally contacted me to say they were gonna visit him today, can you believe it? And I missed them. As usual.” 

Wonwoo looks down at his feet. “I never knew that about you... You’ve been working for me for years, and I didn’t know that.” 

You shift. “What about you?” He turns to you, surprised. “Me?” You nod, “your family?” Wonwoo shuffles closer to you, causing you to unconsciously swallow. 

“Well, I’m not very close with my family either. It was all work, preparing me to take over the business. I mostly grew up alone... and I didn’t really have many close relationships. Uh- well, you can most likely tell. Everyone in the office probably can too.” 

You glance at him. He’s going back into his shell. The one he would always go into when he was stressed, scared, alone. You hesitate. “That’s okay, you don’t have to be close to everyone. It doesn’t hurt to be a little kinder, though. Not to be rude, but a lot of people in the office are.... a bit scared of you? To be honest, we were all a bit shocked when you started caring more. I was surprised. Um- but i-in a good way.” 

Wonwoo stares at you with wide eyes as you focus back on the stone. A comfortable silence fills the air between the two of you. Standing there, hearing the sound of the pouring drops. 

As the rain falls harder, you feel as if you have too.

❋

There’s an understanding, a deeper one between you and wonwoo after that day. You feel like you know him, even if it’s only a little more. 

The CEO suddenly turns into a completely different person. To others, he may still seem like a cold boss, but to you, wonwoo’s an endearing introvert who’s obsessed with cats. 

You were shocked, to say the least when wonwoo comes by your desk and shoves a phone in your face. You flinch before opening your eyes and staring at the screen.  “Mr. Jeon..... why are you showing me a picture of a cat?” 

“It’s cute. Isn’t it?” Laughing, you cover your mouth to hide a smile. “Yes sir, it sure is.” 

He continues to show more of himself, and you find yourself falling deeper. For someone who you never expected.  He has such a cold exterior to people around you, but once it’s just you two, he turns into such a softie. 

Seungkwan confronts you one day. “Y/n, you have to explain. What is happening between you and CEO jeon??” You shake your head in response, but you feel heat creep up your neck. 

“Seungkwannn, I told you already. He just helped me out, and I guess, I understand him a bit better now. He’s not bad, seriously.” 

He lets out a small tch! “A week ago you were complaining about his nasty personality, and now you’re saying he’s not bad?”

You whine, clinging to his side. “Ahh, seriously I said it was nothing. Why won’t you believe me??” Someone clears their throat. 

You and seungkwan turn. It’s wonwoo who else would it be. Immediately, seungkwan bows. “Sir!!” Wonwoo stands there, face passive. “Secretary y/n, come to my office.” 

Seungkwan shoots you a look, leaving you to shrug and follow the CEO.

He offers you a seat, and you sit on the plush couch, waiting.

He shifts in his seat awkwardly, and you raise an eyebrow. “Why did you call me in, Mr. Jeon?” 

He coughs before muttering, “are you close with him? Mr. Boo?” “You mean seungkwan? Oh, he’s my friend, that’s all. Why do you want to know? Are you jealous?” you tease.

But wonwoo only scratches his head. You’re about to apologize for going too far with the joke, but you can’t even respond after what he says. “Well, of course, I am. Cause I’m interested in you.” 

Your mouth drops open. “What did you just say?” He looks at you, a serious expression on his face. “I want to go out with you. Truly.” 

Heart beating faster, you internally panic. He just asked you out? He’s interested in you? What is going on? 

“So? What’s your answer?” You snap out of it, glancing back at your boss, nervously shaking his leg. I mean, you enjoyed his presence. But he was your boss, the supposed cold and scary Jeon Wonwoo.. and also the one who still managed to infiltrate your mind.

“Um, yes. I will go out with you.”

❋

You find out and learn more and more sides to him. They all cause your heart to flutter harder and harder. He’s no longer just your boss, he’s someone you can trust, confide in. 

You begged wonwoo not to tell anyone. All the dates happening in secret. Wonwoo was upset, originally. He wanted to tell people, to show you were his, but you firmly insisted on keeping it quiet. If people in the office found out, you would never hear the end of it. 

You walk into wonwoo’s office one morning, carrying the itinerary for the week. Once he sees you, his eyes light up. He walks over to you, grabbing the file and throwing it on the desk somewhere. 

You stare at him with wide eyes as he strides over to you, wrapping his arms around your body. There’s a second of peace and content, but you interrupt him, tensing and saying, “wonwoo- someone might see us.” 

Even as you continue to shift and glance around to check, he sighs and rests his head on top of yours. “Secretary, can’t you just relax for a second? We’ve been working so much, we need a break.” 

Letting out a huff, you allow yourself to melt into his embrace. “Two more minutes,” you mumble. Wonwoo leans down, so his face is inches from yours, a small grin displayed. You smile back, knowing what he wants. 

You lean in, placing your lips on his. His mouth moves hungrily on yours, causing you to make a small sound of surprise. 

Then there’s suddenly a knock, and you hear the door open. “CEO Jeon?” 

You fly under his desk, squeezing your eyes shut and praying whoever it was didn't see you.

You wait there, attempting to muffle your breathing and keep still. You recognize the voice, it’s Mr. Choi Seungcheol. Vice President of the company. Why did he have to come at the worst time? 

You hear the distinct sounds of their conversation for what seems to be forever before Mr. Choi finally bids him goodbye. Your body slumps in relief, waiting to get out from under his desk until you hear seungcheol suddenly speak again. 

“Also, why is secretary y/l/n under your desk? I see their feet sticking out.” You silently curse yourself. Slowly and very ungracefully, you maneuver your way from under the desk. Standing up, you quickly smooth your clothes and hair. “Oh, ha, Mr. Choi. I had no idea you here. Um- well, you see...” 

You quickly look at Wonwoo and back to Mr. Choi. Stammering, you finally say, “Mr. Jeon thought he saw a coach roach and called me in. Must’ve just imagined it.” You nervously laugh as wonwoo sheepishly nods in agreement. 

Finally, he leaves the two of you, and you sit on the couch, biting your lip as you examine wonwoo’s expression. 

“Was the coach roach your best excuse?”

You cringe. “I’m sorry-! I couldn’t think of anything else. Do you think he saw?” 

Wonwoo shrugs, sitting next to you. “Is it so bad for him to see?” he speaks quietly.

You face him, aghast. “No! It’s just, you know how it is... if everyone knew. They’d misunderstand, think I’m using you or something.” 

Your body freezes as you turn to face him. “Wait- you don’t think I’m using you... right?” 

Wonwoo quickly shakes his head. “No, I know you y/n. You would never do that. I’m just afraid. That you’ll leave me because I’m too quiet, or too busy with work or-..” 

You smile at him softly.

“You know I love you?” He stares at you, shocked. You had never said it to each other before, but you truly meant it. 

Reaching for his hand, you intertwine it with yours. “Did you know I thought about quitting my job before? When we were debuting the showcase. It was so stressful that I really was gonna leave.” You feel his hand grip yours tighter, so you continue.

“But you know I'll never leave you, right? I won’t ever leave you alone.” Nudging him, you add playfully, “that means you’re stuck with me forever.” 

Wonwoo laughs- a short deep sound. 

“I’m okay with that, cause I’m in love with you too.” 

 author note: i actually wanted to write more but got lazy...  im conflicted if i should add to the story or leave it as it is :\\\\ 

[novelconcepts]

Jamie & Dani short prompt- Online Dating au meeting online and being from bad past relationship. Thank u

This is probably a bad idea. It is, isn’t it? Almost certainly.

Why is she here?

Dani Clayton has been playing this particular set of thoughts--bad idea, terrible idea, why would you do this?--on repeat for three days. Ever since setting up that dating profile. Ever since realizing there isn’t much use in setting up a dating profile if you’re not going to use it. 

Oh, it’s all fun and games, building the thing. Find a photo that accentuates all the best parts of your face--Dani, after an hour of careful consideration, wound up going with one that accentuated her hair, more than anything, but she suspects the same idea counts. Then, the profile. What do you like? Teaching, long walks, new experiences, bad coffee. What don’t you like? 

Men, she’d thought, and snorted aloud into her wine before settling on: Deep water, accordion music, expectations, being called Danielle. 

A little more flourish, tipsy keystrokes, a casually-framed short-version of her life. Perfect. And then...well, then you hit the publish button, don’t you? You decide, for better or worse, to jump off this diving board and see just how far you can stand to swim before the energy gives out on you.

The faces appearing before her hadn’t been bad, certainly. Pretty, most of them. Interesting, a few. Still, she hadn’t swiped right on any--once or twice, because she’d forgotten which way meant yes please, but mostly because no one seemed quite...right. Which, she’d thought, was silly. The whole point of an app like this is to cast as many nets as possible and see what comes up. The whole point is to have fun. 

But every time she’d hovered over a promising image, a woman who likes dogs, or plays the violin, or goes rock-climbing in her spare time, she’d thought of him. Eddie. Who had taken one yes to a single date, and tried to make a whole life with her out of it. 

Eddie, who had taken her two decades to pull away from. 

What if the women here were the same? Not Eddie, exactly, but--presumptive. What if they believed a swipe-right was as good as a marriage proposal? What if she got bound up in conversation, and then a date, and then a relationship with someone else who just didn’t fit right?

Left. Left. Left. 

And then: the mistake.

She hadn’t meant to swipe right. Exactly. She hadn’t planned, maybe is the better way of putting it, on swiping right. She’d only wanted to look at the woman’s profile a little longer. Only wanted to inspect the facets this woman had put out on display with almost resigned simplicity. 

Some people, Dani had by now realized, wrote poetry and paragraphs to describe themselves. 

Jamie Taylor had bullet points.

“Gardener. English. Likes: Plants. Stories. Tea. Dislikes: Bullshit.”

The end. That had been quite literally the sum of it. Gardener. English. No bullshit.

But the picture, somehow, Dani hadn’t been able to look away from. Not because of carefully-arranged lighting, not because of a curated model-clean image--but because the woman appeared to have posted the photo almost under duress. It came in profile, as though someone else had done the job, her head turned toward the camera as if interrupted. Her hands were buried in a flower pot. Her clothes were simple--a tank top, a silver chain resting against the jut of collarbones, a pair of worn-looking jeans with holes in the knees. Her eyes--some fascinating color Dani couldn’t quite place--looked somewhere between amused and irritated. 

She looked real. 

Stupid, Dani thinks now--because that was probably the idea, wasn’t it? This woman, Jamie, had planned to look exactly this way. Real. Vexed at the idea of putting herself out there. Reluctantly available. 

It was a ploy, certainly--but one that seems to be working, because not only did Dani accidentally-not-accidentally swipe right, she found herself texting the woman. For hours. She’d expected much less, had figured this Jamie person would be as brief in text as she had been in bio, but...

Jamie had talked to her. Willingly. Teasingly, with more humor than truth, maybe, but with no sign at all that she was sick of Dani’s questions, bad jokes, nervous assessment that I really don’t do this, I honestly don’t get it. 

I don’t, either, Jamie had replied, and that had felt like enough of a reason to keep testing the waters. Enough of a reason to keep the conversation going back and forth, back and forth, until nearly two in the morning.

Shit, she’d said. I need to be at work in four hours. 

Shame, Jamie had replied, her tone already searingly familiar over text. Own your own business, make your own hours. Far wiser approach. 

I’ll make a note of it for when I found an elementary school, Dani had replied, laughing. She hadn’t said she’d already been in bed for an hour, the phone resting on the pillow beside her head so she wouldn’t miss the buzz of a new message. It had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, with wine-warmed blood and the happy haze of good conversation. Jamie made her laugh. Jamie put her at ease. Jamie might not have been real, but she felt real, and that was good. 

Better than anything she’d felt in years, if she was honest with herself. 

Still, when the next day had come and gone with no message, she’d thought, Fair enough. Jamie had been good virtual company for one night. It was more than she’d expected to get out of this app.

Far more than she’d expected, particularly when Thursday night rolled around and her phone buzzed.

Teacher, yeah? No school on Saturday?

Correct, Dani had replied, as amused by the out-of-left-field text as she was irritated with how her stomach had flipped over upon receiving it. You have figured out the complexity of the American school system. 

I am a genius, Jamie sent back, followed quickly by: Drinks tomorrow night? 

Drinks. A thing that people do. A thing that adult people do for date reasons. 

She isn’t real, she’d thought, even as her thumb was punching back: How’s 8? Miller’s?

A mistake. Definitely a mistake. Because the app had been a lark, and the conversation had been too easy, and the fact that she can’t quite pick out the colors in Jamie’s eyes from a single photo is making her crazier than she’d like to admit. 

A mistake, saying yes. A mistake, suggesting the local pub-like establishment around the corner, whose beer-and-burger specials had kept her fed on too many evenings spent working late. A mistake, because once this goes south--as it’s absolutely bound to, as everything Eddie-shaped always has--she’s going to lose her favorite hangout in the deal, too.

And yet: here she is. Standing at the door, wondering if the outfit chosen for the evening festivities--tight jeans, pink blouse, hoop earrings--is too much or not nearly enough. 

What am I doing here?

Maybe, she thinks with mingled alarm and hope, she won’t even have showed up. Maybe it’s all part of the ruse: look approachable, look human and normal, look a little too beautiful in the most grounded way possible--then, cheerfully, invite a woman to drinks and just don’t show. A fun story for whoever comes next. Can you believe she thought I’d want to meet her after one night of texting?

“Dani?” 

English, Dani thinks with a sudden rush of heat. Right. Somehow, she hadn’t quite been prepared for the accent, which--coming out of this woman, draped with languid ease at a table--is truly a little more than Dani thinks she can handle just now. The accent, combined with the mess of curls dragged back from her face, and a dress sense that manages to be both casual and deeply attractive at the same time, is...

“Jamie,” she says, her voice a little lower, a little more hoarse, than is truly necessary. The woman pushes up from her seat, a small-framed figure in a black button-down, suspenders, ripped jeans. She’s pressing a hand toward Dani, offering a firm shake as though they are business partners, not an off-the-cuff bad idea of a date. “You look--”

“Never been here before,” Jamie says, almost apologetically. She gestures for Dani to sit before dropping back down in a sprawl that implies exactly the opposite of what her mouth is insisting. “Wasn’t sure about the, ah, dress code.”

“You--you did fine,” Dani tells her, wishing suddenly she’d gone for a dress. Or a  different human body altogether. She feels too tightly-strung, too anxious for the easy smile on Jamie’s lips. “Um. You’re very. In person.”

“Very,” Jamie repeats, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Is very American for wish I’d gone left, after all?”

“No. No. Absolutely not. That.” Bit too forceful, she suspects, judging by the smile spreading into a grin. “No, it’s just--your picture didn’t--tell me you’d be so...”

“Clean?” Jamie suggests innocently. She raises her hands, wiggling her fingers in a small wave. “Scrub up fine, when I need to. Seemed to call for it.”

“And you...sure did answer,” Dani says stupidly. “The. Call, I mean. I’m sorry, I really don’t do this often.”

Something seems to soften in Jamie, her smile less teasing as she leans across the table. “Hey, no worries here. Same person you were talking to the other night.”

Dani nods, embarrassed, and flags down a server. Drinks ordered, she draws in a deep breath.

“I mean, I haven’t done this in years. Or. Ever, I guess.”

“A first date?” Jamie asks. When Dani doesn’t answer, she adds in a knowing tone, “A date with a woman?”

“Both,” Dani says honestly. “My last relationship was--well, I mean, we were engaged--”

Jamie whistles under her breath, reaching up to scratch her head. “Blimey. What happened?”

“He’s...him.” It’s too much to go into on a first date, too much to explain, even though talking to Jamie over text had been so dangerously easy. “My best friend growing up, but that was...growing up.”

Jamie nods thoughtfully, tilting her chin in thanks when the server deposits two full pint glasses and a basket of fries on the table. “Rough time, sounds like. I can relate. My last relationship also did not go well.”

“Was he also a man who thought you’d be all too happy to quit your job and take care of a bunch of babies?” Dani asks, perhaps a little too bitterly for the occasion. Jamie flashes another grin, sipping her drink.

“She was a woman who thought I’d be all too happy to take the fall when she got busted for possession.”

Dani gapes. “Oh. Oh--I didn’t know--I’m so--”

Jamie shrugs. “She wasn’t wrong. I was nineteen, and deeply stupid. Live and learn, as the poets say.”

“Which poets?” Dani asks, smiling a little. Jamie’s brow furrows.

“John...Lennon, possibly? Hard to say. Anyway, relationships are a chore and a half, but the greatest people in the world tell me thirty is too old to play musical bedframes, so. Here we are.”

No bullshit, thinks Dani approvingly. For what little she’d put into her profile, Jamie evidently hadn’t been lying about that.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since you were nineteen?”

“In my mind, I was still in the relationship at twenty-four, when they let me out. She didn’t agree. Found out she’d been married two years, by then.” Something darkens in Jamie’s eyes for a moment. She sighs. “Like I said. Not my finest. But I am, as they say, a shining beacon of reform these days.”

“Now, when you say they,” Dani teases, grinning. Jamie nods decisively. 

“John Lennon. Definitively.”

There it is, thinks Dani, watching Jamie pop a fry into her mouth. There, the easy roll of conversation from the other night. As though they’ve known each other forever. As though two people who have thus far failed irrevocably at relationships make a perfect match.

Easy, she thinks. Don’t go wild, now. 

“So,” she says, when the comfortable silence between them has grown a bit too comfortable for the setting, “who are the greatest people in the world? The ones who tell you thirty is too old for...did you say musical bedframes?”

Jamie laughs. The ring of it curls gently around Dani’s head like a soft hand, a sound she’ll find herself replaying later with a skipping heart. 

“Not many willing to put up with a grump of my caliber, but Hannah and Owen fight the good fight. So long as I at least pretend to try.”

“Let me guess. They set up the account for you?”

Jamie makes a sort of gesture in the air with the hand not holding her glass. “Threatened to bury me in puns and children, respectively, if I kept putting it off. Owen’s still grumpy about the photo choice.”

“I liked it,” Dani says without thinking. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you did swipe as much. Mind if I ask why?”

Walked into this one. Still, she doesn’t mind as much as she probably should, not with the genuine curiosity in Jamie’s eyes. “You looked--don’t laugh.”

“No promises,” Jamie says, but with the gentle tone of one who knows exactly how much to tease before it’ll hurt. The idea warms Dani in a way she’s not quite ready to look at yet.

“You looked real,” Dani says. “Like you weren’t going to play games, or waste anyone’s time. Like you just wanted to be happy in peace.”

“That is,” Jamie says, holding out a fry for Dani to take, “sort of the idea, yeah.”

There’s an almost puzzled cast to her smile, like she didn’t entirely expect this answer, and is pleased by it at the same time. That same sense from the photo sweeps over Dani now--that this woman is authentic, even if she’s not always shiny, that she’s kind even if not entirely clean. That she doesn’t have any interest in muddled expectation or living a comfortable lie.

“And me?” Dani asks. She doesn’t entirely mean to--but she’s sure, in asking, that Jamie will answer. Jamie is unlike anyone else she’s ever met, the first person she’s ever known to meet each question head-on. 

“Honestly?”

Dani nods. Jamie seems to consider it, turning it over in her head as she twists a fry between her fingers like a cigarette. 

“All of it.”

“That’s,” Dani begins to laugh, “that’s not--”

“No,” Jamie says, and she isn’t smiling, exactly. Her eyes have a sort of shine Dani likes very much, but there is no hint of teasing in them now. “Really. All of it. You’re...very pretty, and that’s--but the way you described yourself. Like you didn’t care to be anyone in particular. You like new experiences, and bad coffee. You hate being called Danielle. I...I wanted to know why.”

“It’s not my name,” Dani says simply. Jamie gives a brief laugh, her hand moving across the table to lightly brush Dani’s fingertips. 

“I wanted to know why all of it. Why do you like bad coffee--”

“It’s the only kind I know how to make,” Dani says automatically. “Just sort of leaned into it.”

“--and teaching--”

“I want to make a difference,” Dani says. 

“--and where you most like to go on those long walks--”

“Anywhere I can breathe,” Dani says. Her fingers are hesitant, tracing the tips of Jamie’s. There’s something electric about this, about barely touching, about barely knowing someone and still wanting to give them neatly-packaged secrets shaped like the mundane. 

Jamie is smiling. “See, that. I like that. All of it.”

It’s nothing, Dani thinks reflexively. A collection of details. A sparse approximation of a life. Eddie knows all of this, and then some, and never matched up to knowing her.

But this woman, leaning across the table with one hand outstretched, looks so different. Watches her with steady interest. Is listening to every word Dani says, though the bar is growing crowded around them, and soon, conversation will become a task instead of a gift.

“Would you,” Dani says, feeling certain that some mistakes are not as bad as they seem, “like to take one of those walks?”

“Tonight?” 

“Yeah. Tonight.” Emboldened by the smile, by the curl falling into Jamie’s eyes, by the knowledge that she still can’t quite make out what color those eyes are, Dani takes her hand. It’s so easy, she thinks she could do it even without looking. “Right now.”

No bullshit, she thinks. No expectations. Just Jamie looking at her like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. Dani can’t blame her. This isn’t at all what she’d thought she was getting, walking in tonight. 

But there’s something about it--something about the feeling that she’s been here before, or should be here forever, or will always find her way back to a woman who looks at her just like this--that almost makes her feel brave. Almost makes her feel wonderful. She rises from the table, laying cash beneath her half-empty glass, and feels a pleasant jolt in her chest when Jamie follows without another word.

If this a mistake, she thinks as they step out into the brisk evening air, it’s one she’s hungry to make. 

[koreanmadeingreece]

Why, why, why (5)

University student!Yuta x reader

Genre: slight enemies to lovers au, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and several mixups

Summary: You just got into uni and decided to move in with your childhood friend!Taeyong at the city where you are going to study. As you’re about to start your new, adult life, you meet his friends, and you realize that not everyone likes you. Nakamoto Yuta in particular almost seems like he hates you.

A/N: In this fic, Jonghyun from NU’EST appears for a while (just to avoid confusion). Also, wow I never thought I’d post this. I hope you guys like it. Also I thought I’d update every Sunday but I couldn’t restrain myself. Welp.

Warnings: n/a

Word count: 2.4K (this was originally two smaller parts but idk I thought they were quite small on their own so now they’re together hahah)

Part 5/11 (I think) First / Previous / Next

Taglist: @melitadala @chxotickpoptrash @aiforyuu @fineapplehoe (let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

One, two, three beers later and you were already spilling the tea between you and Yuta, and Jonghyun was more than happy to listen.

“Do you get it? I’m doing everything in my power to make him like me just a little. I don’t want Taeyong to go through all this because of us. He doesn’t deserve anything like this,” you complained.

“I didn’t know Yuta was so passive-aggressive.”

“He’s not. Or, at least I don’t think he is. I just feel like he’s trying to protect his friendship.”

“From you? It doesn’t make sense. I mean, I’ve only known you for a little while but I don’t think you’d want to get in the way of their friendship.” He was right. And he was supportive. And you couldn’t believe you were complaining to him about another guy.

“Okay, enough of this Yuta talk. It’s something that will probably be solved on its own. And we can’t spend all night talking about him, or my problems. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about your friends, your interests, or anything you feel like represents you in any way.” You smiled, hoping he wasn’t already too tired.

“It felt really nice that you talked to me about it. If that’s not getting to know each other, then I don’t know what is.” He paused, took a sip of his drink and continued. “Well, if you’d like so much to know about me, you should know I love biographical movies with elements of fiction, but what I love most is movie soundtracks. Good movie soundtracks, to be exact, but definitely not musicals. They’re not really my thing. In fact, we usually plan movie nights for the entire campus. It’s a nice opportunity to get everyone together, even people from different departments. This Saturday we’re watching The Zodiac Killer.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve already been informed,” you chuckled. “Maybe we can go together, if you’d like.”

“I’d love to. Text me your address and I’ll pick you up around eight. Is that okay?” he asked.

“Perfect.”

As the night progressed, Jonghyun and you bonded quite a lot. He shared with you his love for cats, as well as a picture of his own cat that he adored. You loved how cute he looked when he talked about her, and even asked him to visit his place one day to meet her. Bold, but you were brave enough to do it.

It was getting late and you thought you had to return home at some point. It was your first date, after all. He obviously offered to walk you home and you were smart enough to accept. For the ten minutes it took you to reach your apartment, you continued talking. When you reached the front door, you stopped.

“This is it,” you said.

“We’re already here? That’s too bad.”

“What, you wanted it to be further?”

“No, it’s not that. I just had a great time and I didn’t really want the night to end.” He looked down as he said that, waiting to hear what you thought.

“I had a great time too,” you answered. “But I’ll see you again on Saturday, and your coffee is excellent, so I’ll definitely come by before class.” You both laughed, probably trying to hide a bit of your enthusiasm that you hit it off.

“See you on Saturday then?”

“Definitely.” You were about to unlock the door when he stopped you.

“Wait,” he said, and you were more than willing to.

“What is it-” he cut you off with a kiss, something you definitely didn’t expect. You were surprised for a second but soon returned the kiss. After a few seconds, you both pulled back. You could see him blushing, and that made you feel good. You knew he was just a shy boy that liked you, maybe a bit too much, but he made you feel good. That was all you wanted then.

You looked at each other and didn’t know what to say. You were the first one to break the silence, even though you were completely flustered yourself. “Goodnight,” you said, barely getting yourself together, before kissing him once more.

“Goodnight.”

You went inside your apartment and saw Taeyong sitting with the others, thankfully in the living room, so they couldn’t have seen you with Jonghyun.  

“A bit late, aren’t we?” Taeyong teased you.

“Shut up… Do I say anything when you’re out on dates?” you laughed. You said hi to the others and went in your room to change. After a while, Taeyong came in.

“You know, Yuta told me you’re coming with us at the movie night this Saturday. Is that true?”

“Yeah, and Jonghyun will be there too. In fact, he’s picking me up.”

“We could have walked together, but at least I’ll get to open the door and see his face. Maybe even intimidate him a little.”

“Taeyong, are you serious? First of all, you’re the softest person I’ve ever met. How is it possible that you’ll ever intimidate anyone?” you chuckled.

“Thank you so much for the support. You’re a true friend. But, seriously, let me open the door and see his face.”

“Fine,” you agreed and saw the excitement on his face. “Anyway, you should tell your friends to come too.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell them tomorrow.” And so, it happened. You went to class the next day and told Chan, BamBam and Yugyeom, who were overjoyed. They were looking for an opportunity to get to know more people, but also see firsthand how things were between Jonghyun and you.

In the following days you didn’t see Jonghyun much, although you did spend a great part of your day texting him. You had a lot of classes and only saw him a bit when you stopped by the coffee shop to get some coffee, which you knew he made perfectly. You texted a lot though, but everything was quiet, at least until the night of the festival, when hell broke loose.

Chan had once more come over to help you pick out your outfit for the big night. The man had taste; you couldn’t deny that. You had decided on a blue dress with small flowers all over, just because the weather was still warm, and you wanted to dress to impress. What kind of date would it be if you didn’t want to mesmerize your date?

So, when the day came, you left Taeyong responsible for opening the door to Jonghyun, exactly like you promised, and went to your room to get ready. You had your wireless earphones on, so you couldn’t hear a thing of what was going on inside, so you took your time putting your makeup on and doing your hair. You had at least an hour before Jonghyun came to pick you up, and you definitely planned on taking some time to talk with Taeyong before your date came. Moral support was very much needed at times like these.

~ ☼ ~

In the living room, Taeyong was alone, scrolling through his phone. He was starting to get kind of bored when the doorbell rang. It was too early to be Jonghyun, so it could only be one other person.

“Yuta, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at uni helping the other students with preparations?” Taeyong’s wide eyes showed how shocked he was to have found him standing in front of his door.

“It wasn’t my turn today, so I thought I’d come and pick you guys up. See, I told Y/N to come with us too,” he said, trying to brush it off as quickly as he could.

“I know. I told her to bring her friends too. It’s a uni event either way, so I figured it would be nice for them to get to know each other more and meet new people.”

“True. They’re first years, you’re right. It’s hard enough that they’re just starting to live alone, let alone find new friends.”

“Exactly. Besides, Y/N will-” the phone rang. “Wait a sec, it’ll be quick.” And, just like that, Yuta was left alone in your living room, taking his regular seat on the couch. Two minutes later, he saw Taeyong trying to sign at him that this would take a little longer than expected, and to make himself comfortable, which he did for the next fifteen minutes. He went to the kitchen and grabbed some water, went back to his regular seat, and waited for both of you to come out of your rooms.

The doorbell rang.

Yuta thought he should answer the door, because you could have told some of your friends to come by your house before the movie. It made perfect sense. He opened the door with a smile, ready to greet your friends, as the one contact he had with Chan didn’t go that well, but he didn’t see what he expected to.

“Oh, Yuta, I didn’t know you’re Y/N’s friend!” Jonghyun said, smiling at him. “Now that I think about it, you know Taeyong, so that makes sense. Can I come in?��

Yuta stood aside for him to get in but couldn’t muster the courage to say one word to him. He would be there? He would take you to the movie night. It sounded about right, since you had just started dating, but something inside of him didn’t feel right. He knew you’d be with your friends, but with him too? That was pure treason. And treason for what? It wasn’t like he was expecting anything from you, was he?

He shook his head and turned to Jonghyun. “Y/N is still in her room and Taeyong had an important phone call, so can I get you anything?” He kept telling himself he had to be nice, normal. He had to be calm and composed.

“No, I’m good, thanks. No worries.” Jonghyun kept smiling at him, and it drove him crazy.

That was when Taeyong came out of the room. “Sorry, Yuta, Y/N’s mom wanted to check something about some bills, and I had to explain everything to her. Apparently, Y/N was too busy to pick up the phone today, if you know what I mean.” He sighed. He looked at Yuta, who didn’t reply to his comment, then he looked at Jonghyun, who was standing in the middle of the living room smiling at him. “Oh, hi! You must be Jonghyun!”

“Hello, Taeyong. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

After a few moments of silence, Taeyong took Jonghyun to the couch and started slowly interrogating him. He didn’t even know what he wanted to ask him, but he always felt protective as far as you were concerned. He was like your big brother. In the meantime, Yuta sat at the edge of the couch and didn’t say a word until you came out of your room.

“Taeyong, I swear to god if my mom calls you again, I’ll kill her.” You shout from down the hall. “She has to talk to me about this kind of stuff, she can’t keep bothering you when I don’t-” oh shit.

~ ☼ ~

It was the first time after an hour that you had taken off your earphones and felt ready enough to come outside and find Taeyong. You were hoping for some cheering up, but you soon realized that it was definitely out of question. As soon as you entered the living room, you knew you were fucked. You saw Taeyong sitting incredibly close to Jonghyun, who was early to pick you up, and standing as far away from them as possible was Yuta, who didn’t seem to be able to stop staring at you. In fact, all three men were unable to stop staring at you. Taeyong, with his puppy eyes, about to say that you had grown into a beautiful woman, until you gave him a death stare, and the other two seemed kind of…stuck.

Jonghyun was the first one to break the silence. “Y/N, hi. You look beautiful.” He smiled. God, you loved his smile. “Are you ready to go?”

You smiled back and nodded. “Yeah, just let me get my jacket.”

He greeted the others and went to wait outside. You grabbed your jacket and looked at Taeyong, who was smiling like an idiot. You knew that this was a good sign, and that he had liked Jonghyun, so you didn’t bother talking to him anymore. You looked at Yuta, who was still not moving. You were about to say hello, but he beat you to it. “Hello, Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Yuta, you don’t look bad yourself,” you said, and you knew you were lying, because he looked like a god to you. He was wearing a t-shirt and a leather jacket, with ripped jeans and various jewelry, which included the earrings that you liked the most on him. You didn’t move your eyes for a few seconds, and neither did he. Those few moments were filled with tension, which Taeyong picked up and broke off, or else there would have been casualties. “Come on, Y/N, your date is waiting for you!” You nodded and left, leaving the two together. You hoped you’d find them both alive when the movie started.

You walked a bit with Jonghyun, and when you were in a big enough distance from your house, you turned to him and kissed him gently. You didn’t know if this was too rushed, as you had only exchanged one kiss the other night and it hadn’t been that long since you met each other, but it felt right to you, and you realized it felt right to him as well, as he couldn’t stop smiling. He was practically looking at you with heart eyes.

“I didn’t want to say too much in your house, because I thought we should be alone when I did, but Y/N, you’re stunning today.”

“Thank you, and yes, I know what you mean. Taeyong can be a handful sometimes. Sorry if he was too annoying.” You laughed.

“No, he was really nice. To be honest, I’d never really talked to him before, and he seemed pretty nice.”

“Then, what?”

“Y/N, you didn’t… Oh, never mind. Let’s go and find our seats, the movie starts in a few minutes.”

[mcfiddlestan]

WinterFrost Single Dads AU

Hey, ya'll. Told ya I was working on this thing. I've got about six chapters done, but I'm not ready to post it to AO3 just yet. One big reason for that is I don't have a title yet. So I thought I'd post a couple of chapters, let ya'll get a feel for it, then take any suggestions you might have.

Just a small note: I tend to name fics after song titles that inspired the story or somehow fit with the plot.

Anyhoo...here's the first chapter. I *might* post the second tomorrow. We'll see how the response to this goes.

xoxo, La

Pairing: Loki x Bucky Barnes (there are others past and future, but I'm not giving them away just yet)

Rating: M

Word count: 1,775

Summary: Loki is living a great life as a Manhattan lawyer and constantly partying with Tony Stark, his best friend. Loki's life before he came to New York more than a decade ago is a mystery for those close to him. But it's all about to come to light when he gets a call from someone in his past.

Bucky is just trying to catch a break. A few hookups with a fellow soldier led to a quickie marriage and baby -- and two years later, a quick divorce. His daughter is now eight years old and the light of his life. But he can't seem to get his shit together. Struggling to find a job and keep a hold on his sobriety, it's a one-night stand that gives him the kick in the ass he needs to be the man his daughter believes he is.

Warnings: Mature language and situations, some drug use, and talk about addiction.

Chapter 1

The sound of his front door opening and closing pulled Loki from a deep sleep. So deep, it took him a moment to remember where he was and how he knew that was his front door. His eyes opened slowly, once, twice, and then again, to nothing but the darkness of what he was sure was his bedroom. Then he felt the pounding, incessant, pulsing around his entire head. Damn migraines. Loki let out a low groan, thought fuck it, and buried his face deeper into his pillow. Moments later, the door to his bedroom pushed open.

“Rise and shine,” a deep voice sang.

Loki grumbled at the familiar voice, and slowly, he turned his body, rolling onto his back. “Why are you always so chipper in the morning? Oh, for Norn’s sake!” He threw a pillow over his face as the curtains pulled open and let the blinding daylight flood the room. “Close them! I’ve got a damned migraine!”

“Ooh. So sorry, Mr. Friggasson. There’s a cup of tea on the nightstand. Would you like me to get you some water and a couple of ibuprofen?”

Another groan sounded through the room as Loki forced himself to sit up. “Yes, please,” he answered as he rubbed at his face before reaching for the two pillows to prop them up behind him. In his sleepy haze, he remembered to pull the bedsheet over his lap to keep his modesty. Loki reached out for the teacup first, cupping it in his large hand as he took a gentle sip. “Mmm, perfect. Thank you, Fandral. And, for the thousandth time, please stop calling me Mr. Friggasson.” He sipped again, ignoring Fandral’s giggle as he rummaged through Loki’s closet. “What time is it?”

“A quarter to eleven.”

Loki sputtered into his tea. “Quarter to eleven? Why did you let me sleep so late? I have meetings today.” Loki hurriedly set his drink down and started to rise, gathering the sheet to wrap around him. Fandral was suddenly there, nudging Loki back into the bed, “Relax, Loki. You’re fine. Your early meeting was canceled, the board meeting at the Tower was pushed to Thursday, and Mr. Stark canceled your lunch meeting.”

“Cancelled? Why?” Loki settled back in the bed, rubbing at his neck. “He didn’t say. But he left the message for me before three am, and there was a lot of noise in the background. So, take a guess.”

Loki snorted softly. “That’s your boss, Fanny. Don’t judge.”

“You’re my boss. Mr. Stark only signs the checks,” Fandral said through a smile as he laid out a pair of pants and a shirt on a chair in the corner for Loki to wear for the day. “Once the morning meeting was canceled, I thought I’d let you rest a little longer since you didn’t have to rush into the office.”

“Thanks,” Loki muttered from behind his cup.

Fandral gave him a nod and turned to head around the corner towards the master bathroom.

“Any other messages?” Loki called as he set the teacup back on the nightstand. He sat back, his face contorting in pain, willing the migraine to ease up. He made a mental note to see an optometrist already.

“Yes, a few. Natasha called. She got a lead on the security break from a couple of months ago, I guess? She said she’d have a report for you on the improvements she’s already made with F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Fandral stepped out with a small white bottle in one hand, a glass of water in the other. He handed the water to Loki before popping open the bottle and dropping two white tablets in Loki’s open palm. “Also, someone’s been trying to get a hold of you all morning. He’s called four times already. No real message, just ‘need to speak to Loki urgently.’ Someone named Thor.”

Loki went still. He swallowed down the pills and water in his mouth, watching Fandral’s retreating back. A million different questions ran through Loki’s mind, but he couldn’t decide on just one to ask, nor would Fandral be able to answer any of them, judging by what he’d just said. Fandral returned from the bathroom, and Loki hoped he didn’t look as panicked as he felt. “Someone named Thor, you say?”

Fandral, staring at his phone, made a noise of agreement. “Sounded foreign, but I couldn’t place the accent.”

“Norwegian.” Loki shook his head dismissively when Fandral looked at him with a quizzical look. “Did he say how to get a hold of him?”

“Yes. At least, I have the number for you.” Fandral lowered his phone, eyed Loki, who’d gone much paler in the last thirty seconds. “Are you all right?”

Not in the slightest. “Yes. Uh, Fandral, I’m going to take a shower.” Loki rose from the bed, his migraine still there but hardly forgotten. He held the bed sheet tight at his waist and walked around Fandral. “Listen, if he calls again, tell him I will call him back as soon as I’m free. If he doesn’t, when you hear the water stop, give me twenty minutes, then put the call through.”

Fandral frowned at Loki as he followed him with his eyes. “Sure, boss. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“Fandral. I’m fine. Will you order some food? Get me a sandwich, please. Something toasted, turkey.” Distracted, Loki didn’t wait for Fandral to confirm. He walked into his bathroom and started the water in the shower, then moved to the sink. He stood before the mirror for a moment, thinking, fretting, irritated. Why would Thor be calling him after all this time? What could he possibly have to say to Loki? After more than ten years of no communication, Loki felt as if they were strangers.

The steam began to fill the room, fogging up the mirror, so Loki dropped the sheet and stepped under the spray. He let the hot water wash over him, easing the ache of his muscles. He took the showerhead in hand, adjusted the setting of the water, and held it over the back of his head to let the hot water pummel the skin of his neck and his scalp, hoping to make the migraine go away. Though with the newly added stress of a phone call with someone from his long-forgotten past, Loki wasn’t sure it would go away now.

Washing his body and hair quickly, after just fifteen minutes, Loki stepped out and went through the motions of grooming then getting dressed. When he stepped out into the living room, Fandral was just taking his food from its delivery packaging.

“Did he call?”

“No. Feel any better?”

Not at all. “Much. Fandral, could you give me some privacy?”

He froze with a wrapped sandwich half out of the bag. Only his eyes moved in Loki’s direction, “Um, sure? Do you want me to come back in, what, an hour?”

Loki shook his head. “No. In fact, why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” Fandral dropped the sandwich on the table and faced Loki fully, crossing his arms. “Don’t look at me like that. Nothing is wrong. I just don’t know how this conversation is going to go, and I’d rather not have an audience if you don’t mind.” He spotted a bag of chips and snatched it up, ripping it open to pop one into his mouth.

Fandral, still frowning, reached into the bag once again to split the napkins between the two of them. He repacked his meal, then lifted the bag from the table. “All right. Your phone is on the counter. I input the phone number since he called the office, not your cell phone. And – I’ll be available, just in case.”

“Thank you. Fandral.” Loki gave his back a quick pat as he paused beside him. “I mean it. Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, I think we both know that’s a mutual feeling.” He reached for Loki’s arm, giving his wrist a quick squeeze. “Call me later? So I know you’re all right?”

Loki nodded and didn’t move until he heard the door close behind Fandral. It was true; he didn’t know how he would function without Fandral. They were classmates in law school, and both started at equally prestigious firms upon graduation. They were good friends but fiercely competitive, too. Loki credited that manic drive to one-up each other for getting him to the top five percent of their graduating class. But after a few years, while Loki had been on the up-and-up, Fandral was drowning, barely keeping his head above water as a tax lawyer. Loki watched one of the first friends he’d made in New York crumble under pressure and struggled to help him find a way to deal. Eventually, Fandral walked away from the six-figure salary, the company car, and all the perks that came with it. Loki was impressed that Fandral

dared to do it. After a few months of getting help and finding a better mental space, Fandral moved off of Loki’s couch into a modest apartment that was a fraction the size of the loft he was in before and looked for a less-hectic job. Loki had snagged a cushy position as Stark Industries’ in-house counsel, thanks to his friendship with its C.E.O., and was still getting settled. Managing New York’s richest son’s money, company, and public image was turning out to be a full-time job. And Loki needed help. He’d already recruited Natasha Romanov, a former N.Y.P.D. Officer, he brought her on for her computer and investigative skills. So he offered Fandral a position as his assistant. Fandral took it and promised to be the best right-hand man. Loki expected he’d be bored within a month just answering phone calls and setting up meetings. But Fandral’s duties, mostly taken on of his own volition, had grown exponentially in the past five years. He acted as assistant, maid, valet, and social buffer for the notoriously introverted Loki.

Loki would be a mess without him.

Because he was starving, Loki wolfed down half his sandwich and chips, grateful that the shower, the food, and the medication had helped relieve the worst of his migraine. Taking a deep breath, Loki picked up his phone from where Fandral left it for him. His thumb hovered over the screen, over the unknown phone number. And with his heart in his throat, Loki tapped it. He listened. He waited. And, finally, after three rings, the line picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Thor.”

[jisungsmochi]

the convenience store boy - pjs

convenience store worker!jisung + customer!reader

genre: tooth rotting fluff honestly i think i outdid myself here but oh well i’m whipped for jisung and this is the final part of the au!! 

* also mentions of parents arguing so that’s just a lil warning! 

word count: 2.9k 

a/n: final instalment of my dreamies job series!! can’t believe its the end aw

can read the rest here !

// 

“jisung i need you to watch over the store for the rest of the night, your mother and i are going to see your grandparents” jisung’s father informed him, watching as the tall boy stared blankly back at him.

“can’t we just close up? i have homework to do tonight” jisung sighs, not too fond of the idea of sitting behind the counter on a hot summer night, only to serve about three people.

“you can do it while you work, i know it’s slow these days but we need to stay open, i’m sorry” his father felt apologetic, but he knew that jisung was somewhat responsible enough to take on a larger role in the family’s small business. jisung just nodded, not being the one to go against his parent’s wishes. they hugged him tightly before setting off, leaving jisung alone.

to be frank, jisung wasn’t technically an employee. he didn’t get paid for his shifts at the store, mostly just wanting to help out his parents. but recently, he had been taking longer shifts that ate into his personal leisure time. so, there he was, desperately trying to decipher the answers for the math homework that chenle just sent him. he softly grunted, couldn’t he write neater?

you entered the store, just having finished your tutoring session. you greeted the boy at the counter with a kind smile before making your way to the snack aisle. you grabbed a packet of honey soy chicken chips and a can of cola. as you made your way back to the counter, you also picked up a chocolate bar.

“your total is $8.45” the boy’s eyes met yours. you recognised him from your maths class, not that you were too close or anything. but you were pretty sure he sat two seats behind you.

“ah, i only have a $10 note on me, keep the change” you handed him your money, slowly collecting your items.

“oh thank you” he softly blushed at the kind gesture.

“have a nice night, jisung” you rushed out of the store before jisung could respond,

“ah- you too, y/n” he softly whispered to himself.

jisung had a slight interest in you ever since you sat next to him on the school trip to the museum earlier that year. as usual, chenle was late, leaving jisung stranded as students piled onto the bus. you, on the other hand, were in a friend group of three. you didn’t mind sitting behind your friends, so you decided to take a seat next to jisung. he didn’t say a word to you, too sulky that chenle was all the way at the front. you slyly shifted your eyes to look at him, he had a small pout in his face and his head was glued to his phone. you wanted to greet him or something, literally anything to make him feel comfortable next to you. you pulled out a packet of sour candy you had brought along, offering some to your friends first. you turned to jisung, softly tapping his shoulder. the timid boy shook abruptly, looking over at you.

“want some?” you urged, pushing the bag towards him, they were his favourite.

“yeah, thanks” he mumbled back, grabbing two before shoving them in his mouth.

“let me know if you want more” you gave him a small smile before placing your earphones in and enjoying the rest of the bus ride.

from that day on, jisung never personally approached you. he would occasionally greet you in the halls, or at large events but never had one on one interactions with you. maybe one day, his time will come.

over the next few nights, jisung noticed you would come in at exactly 10pm, grabbing he same packet of chips and a drink, then proceeding to sit outside of the store for up to an hour. he silently watched you each time, trying to be discrete as he could. he wanted to gain some courage to spark up a conversation with you, but you always seemed occupied. he was just intimidated by the ‘cool’ aura you gave off.

until one night, when you bought a different drink,

“no more cola?” he took notice, causing you to furrow your eyebrows, for once he wasn’t just scanning your items and saying goodnight.

“ah yeah, i think some peach tea would be a better substitute” you smiled, surprised that he took notice of the smallest details.

“w-want me to keep you company out there tonight?” jisung suddenly suggested, eyes avoiding yours. your eyes scan over the nervous boy, then to the table outside.

“i mean, if you’re not busy with the store then sure” you agree, watching as his eyes shoot up to look into yours.

“it doesn’t get that busy around this time” he slowly made his way from behind the counter, leading you both to sit outside. you sat down next to him, offering him some of your chips. he kindly took up your offer, munching softly on the delicious snack.

“so, jisung, tell me about yourself. i know nothing other than the fact you’re friends with chenle and you snore” his eyes widened at the last part, “the school bus trip, don’t worry, it’s pretty soft snoring” you slightly teased as his ears began turning red.

“well uh my parents own the store, i work here occasionally. i like dancing, playing soccer and sometimes video games” he started as you continued to chomp on the chips. you listened to every word that left his mouth. something about the way jisung spoke had you constantly intrigued. he was so mesmerising to you, the way he lit up when talking about his parents, the way he covered his mouth everytime he laughed.

“how about you? anything i should know?” he gave you a soft smirk,

you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much you were willing to tell him about your personal life.

“uh well, i’m an only child. live with my parents, i like listening to music! You’ll almost always find me with earphones in or near me.” jisung’s mind floated back to the bus trip where he saw you fast asleep with your earphones lodged in. you looked so peaceful and delicate, he felt bad for having to wake you once you arrived at the museum.

“I’ve noticed, even in maths class, you always have one earphone in, I don’t know how you haven’t been caught yet” he chuckles at the memory, heat rising to your cheeks.

“ah so you’ve been watching me huh?” you teased, watching as it was his turn to be shy. jisung was a stuttering mess as you gently pushed his shoulder,

“it’s fine, I’ve noticed you watching me since I’ve been coming here so often” jisung’s lips pressed together, hesitating before asking,

“why do you always come here at night anyway?” you met his eyes, trying to read his expression. you saw that he was partially concerned, with the way he was seated at the edge of his seat, leaning into you.

“well uh my parents… they’ve been arguing lately. that’s why i come here at night, i don’t really want to be home nowadays” you stop yourself, looking over at jisung who had his mouth agape.

crap, you blew it.

“uh wait that’s too much to be putting on you, i’m so sorry” you shook your head, embarrassed. jisung interrupted you before you could say anything else,

“no it’s okay, i’ll listen. i’m not here to judge” he cracked a small grin, trying his best to make you comfortable. you weren’t the one to pour your heart out to others, but jisung was so comforting. you spent the next hour telling him your life story. he rarely interrupted unless you asked him for some input. he did stop you once, only to grab another packet of chips to share.

once it reached 11:30pm, jisung announced he had to close up the store. you nodded, part of you not wanting to leave.

“come by tomorrow night, y/n. i’ll keep you company” jisung held your wrist as you were about to leave. you looked down at his hand, then back to his face. he pulled away quickly, moving his hands behind his back. how cute.

“yeah, i’d like that”

//

as days went on, jisung volunteered to take up the later shifts, allowing his parents to rest after spending most of the day at the store. as per usual, once the clock struck 10, you were at the front of the store. jisung often prepared your usual snacks beforehand saving you the extra time. he always offered to cover the costs, but you insisted you were a paying customer.

“how brutal was the maths exam?” jisung cried, making you chuckle softly at his childish whining.

“it wasn’t too bad, the back page was pretty tough though” you agreed, taking a sip of your peach tea.

“wait what back page?” jisung’s eyes practically popped out of his head. you felt so bad for the poor boy,

“oh jisung, didn’t you see the last page?”

jisung pulled his head into his hands, internally screaming. you slowly moved closer to him, patting him gently on the back.

“hey, it’s alright, it’s a dumb test anyway” you tried your best to comfort the boy. jisung wouldn’t admit it to you, but he enjoyed having you so close to him.

“i know, i’m just an idiot” he sighed, pulling himself up to face you. the conversation diverted back to you, jisung wondering if your parents had stopped fighting.

“it’s been quieter now. not as much yelling. but there’s still a lot of tension, you know? crazy to think they were inlove for a moment in time” you gently shook your head, eyes avoiding jisung’s. he wanted nothing more than to make you smile at this very moment.

“have you been inlove, jisung?” you suddenly bring up, watching as he shuffles away from you slightly. his ears were completely red at this point, in which he tried to cover with his beanie.

“i-uh no, i don’t think so. i’m not even sure i know what love is” he sighed, his breath visible from the cold.

“same here” you whispered back to him. he looked into your eyes, something about them, were pleading for him to tell you that he could love you. you wanted him to love you.

//

as you were lining up for maths class, you were talking with your friend, sohyun.

“you’re telling me you’ve been hanging out with park jisung almost every night for the past three weeks, but you don’t like talking to him at school? make it make sense, my head hurts” sohyun sighs, bringing her hands to massage her temples.

“it just feels too forced, you know? I mean its not like he is all up in my business at school either. that’s just how it is” you shrug, not seeing an issue.

“well do you like him?” she suddenly asks, causing you to widen your eyes, not believing the words that left her mouth. did you like jisung? or was he just someone who always happened to be there for you?

“n-no, I mean i-i don’t know” you softly admit, watching as sohyun’s face turns to a frown.

“personally, I haven’t seen you this happy to be talking to a guy before, you should give him a chance” she smiles at you, pulling you into class. as you entered the room, your eyes met jisung’s. he shot you a kind grin, refraining from waving to you, incase it drew any unnecessary attention. you walked by his desk, whispering a quick, ‘hey jisung’ before you went to sit in your own seat infront of him. he couldn’t wipe the silly grin off his face, all you did was acknowledge him at school, it wasn’t like you confessed your love for him. but that was the effect you had on park jisung. he was whipped.

//

it was a cold friday night, as usual, jisung was waiting for you at the store. the clock struck ten, but there was no sign of you.

‘maybe you’re just running late’ he shrugged to himself.

but then it was 10:15.

you were never more than two minutes late, max. he started getting worried, pulling out his phone to message you.

sungie: hey, where are you? are you okay?

[read 10:16pm]

but no response.

jisung didn’t know why this was affecting him so much. you wouldn’t just ignore him like this. jisung was never the type to make such rash decisions, but something came over him. he packed some snacks in his backpack, and closed the store early before hopping on his bike. he peddled and peddled, one destination in mind.

you were laying in your bed, tears staining your cheeks. the yelling and fighting had stopped, because your dad walked out. you were a wreck, keeping everything to yourself.

your thoughts were interrupted when you heard rusting outside your window.

it was probably an animal, you thought. but then your phone dinged,

sungie: hey so i’m kinda outside your window and it’s freezing so please let me in

you shot up from your bed, moving over to your window where a bundled up jisung stood, waving gently. you quickly opened your window, pulling him inside.

“what are you doing here? are you crazy?” you scolded him, closing your window after he made it into your room.

“you didn’t show up, i didn’t think you’d ditch me like that” he grunted softly, standing in front of you. he was going to continue to ask you questions, but he noticed how your eyes were puffy and your cheeks were wet.

“what happened?” he muttered, hands reaching your shoulders, softly rubbing them.

“he left us, sung” you sobbed, jisung immediately pulled you into his chest. you wrapped your arms around his torso, jisung radiated so much warmth to you.

“it’s going to be okay, you have me here” jisung mumbled into your hair, wanting nothing more but to make your pain go away.

“t-thankyou” you managed to let out, moving your head to look up at him. you had never been this close to him before. his lips were so beautiful, his cheeks so full. his eyes glistening as he comforted you.

there was a split second where you genuinely believed that park jisung could be the one for you. but were you the one for him?

he didn’t say anything more to you, only wanting to hold you for as long as he could.

“you’re gorgeous” he whispered to you, causing you to freeze up in his grip. you could barely make out any coherent words, overwhelmed by the sweet compliment.

“this is probably a bad time to bring this up again, but you remember how you asked me if i’d ever been inlove, and i said no?” jisung started, pulling you to sit next to him on your bed. you cautiously lowered yourself, so that your shoulders brushed up against his.

you nodded at his words, unsure of where he where going with this.

“well i think i am now” he admitted, catching you off guard.

“w-what? w-who?” you stammered, playing with your fingers, waiting for him to continue.

“the girl who comes to the convenience store at 10pm every night. she’s really amazing. she always buys the same packet of honey soy chicken chips, and we share them as we talk about anything and everything” jisung looked over at you, noticing your eyes begin to water again,

“she’s so passionate, caring, smart and beautiful. even though she doesn’t really acknowledge me at school, talking to her almost every night makes up for it. i know she’s scared to fall inlove, but she’s everything i could ever want. i might just be a guy hopelessly pining for her but i think i’m inlove with her, so what should i do?” he smirked at you, wiping away a stray tear that left your eye. he moved closer to you, if that was even possible.

“you should definitely say it out loud to her first” you sniffled, grabbing into his hands, your thumbs brushing over his knuckles.

“i’m inlove with you” he whispered, only for you to hear.

“jisung, i would be a complete idiot if i said i wasn’t inlove with you too” you immediately responded, closing the gap between your lips, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

as you pulled away, jisung’s face started heating up.

“thank god, i would have been so embarrassed if you didn’t” you both chuckled softly, faces only inches apart.

“falling inlove with you doesn’t scare me, jisung. I’m grateful I found someone as amazing and understanding as you” you whispered to him, it was his turn to tear up.

“does this mean we can hang out at school now? i’d love to hang out with you during the daytime, it’s way too chilly at night nowadays and I don’t want you to catch a cold or anyth-“ you interrupt him with another kiss, his hands finding their way to cup your cheeks.

“okay so you can definitely do that if i keep rambling, i quite enjoy it actually” he smirks, moving his hands to hold yours.

“stay the night?” jisung’s face lit up followed by an enthusiastic nod. you smiled back at him, pulling you both down to lay in your bed. he held you close to his chest as you continued to talk about anything and everything, just like you did every single night.

and that’s how the boy at the convenience store became your first love.

[hiddlestonsbabygirl]

Care For Me (Steve Rogers au) SugarDaddy!Steve

•part one•

An alternative universe where Steve isn’t an Avenger, but rather a CEO of one of the biggest companies in the US. His best friend and business partner Bucky secretly made him an account in an online dating site for sugar daddies and sugar babies, setting Steve up on a date with the only suitable sugar baby he thought was best for his best friend among the million others in his inbox.

It’s you. You’re the sugar baby.

Or,

Where reader is a med student who is badly in need of financial support and resorted to desperate measures by signing up to an online dating site with a little help from reader’s best friend, Nat.

Contains: natasha x reader moment (but platonic!)

A/N: thank you guys for the great reviews on the prologue! I hope you’ll enjoy this one as well! Tags are still open! x

Ps. I’m sorry it took so long for me to update, I’ve been really busy for finals and now that everything’s been put on hold, I can finally focus on this story!

Stay safe you guys! ❤️

•••

“Thanks again for the help, Nat. I’d probably be in the streets by now if you weren’t around.” You thanked before bringing your mug of hot tea to your salty lips. Why, it was because of your crying.

“No need to thank me, (Y/N). You know I’m always one call away.” Natasha replied with a wink, her fit physique sprawled out on her queen-sized bed. You both spent the previous hour gathering your things and bringing it over to your best friend’s house with a little help from her parents. You were like family to them, so when Mr. and Mrs. Romanoff found out that you’ve been kicked out of your apartment they were rushing to your aid in a heartbeat.

“You know, I could work a few extra hours and do some chores around here and help your mom.” You announced and shrugged. “Just a little way of saying thank you to them.”

Nat scoffed. “(Y/N), you could barely even last a week in a job because of your busy schedule in school. Plus, mom wouldn’t let you do that. She’d probably kill me if I let you do house chores.”

“But Nat, this is too much!” You sighed, putting down your mug on the bedside table and joining your best friend on the bed with a little flop, your body bouncing a little as you did so.

Nat sat up and looked you dead in the eyes, her hand hovering above yours. “You’re never too much for mom and dad. They know how hard med school is and they’ve known you since seventh grade! You’re like a second daughter to them!”

You could feel tears prick the corners of your eyes but refused to let them fall. You were tired of crying and you wanted to show your best friend that you’re strong.

“Thank you, Nat. For the millionth time. I could never say it enough because you’ve done so much for me these past few years.” Your voice broke. “You’ve been saving my life ever since.”

As much as you refused, the tears fell. But you weren’t the only one this time. As Natasha pulled you in for a hug, tears welled up in her eyes as well. It hurt her seeing you struggle and try to hide it from her. She knew that you’re strong; you have been ever since. But to see you break down in front of her didn’t fail to ache her own heart, too.

And you both stayed like that for several minutes. You both enjoyed the comforting silence, your best friend’s arms wrapped around you while you calmed yourself as your eyelids began to feel heavy. Just as you were about to doze off Nat jolted upwards and you flinched.

“Holy shit, I have the stupidest but brilliant idea.” She gasped out, her eyes wide and filled with excitement. The emotional, melodramatic feel in the air was gone and was soon replaced by Nat’s excitement.

“Stupid and brilliant? Nat what—“

“You should sign up for an online dating site.” She grinned as she pointed at you, your brows drawn together in confusion as you processed the words that left her mouth.

“Natasha, no. Dating is already heavy work. I don’t need to worry for another human being when I’m struggling to take care of myself and my studies. So no, thank you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to worry too much in this kind of relationship, (Y/N).”

Your confusion grew.

“Because he’s gonna take care of you.”

You watched as she took out her laptop and opened it enthusiastically, her fingers running smoothly across the keyboard with each letter she typed until she turned it around so the screen was facing you.

“Sweet as Sugar Online Dating Site.” You read. “Where you’ll find just the right amount of sweetness you look for in a sugar baby/sugar daddy/sugar mommy. Over 1,000,000+ users. Sign up now!”

“Sign up now!” Natasha repeated, an overanimated grin across her lips as she watched your shocked face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Oh, come on! I know what you’re thinking,” she giggled as she turned the laptop to her again and began typing. “Whenever you think of a sugar daddy, what comes to mind is an old, fat man with a boatload of cash. But! With this site, you can fill up a form asking what you want in a sugar daddy.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now.

“Come, I’ll show you!” She exclaimed as she patted the space next to her. You shook your head in disbelief as you made your way next to your best friend, watching her fill up your biodata in the pink and purple themed website.

“Nat you can’t be serious.” You tried to laugh, but it came out more of a whine. Natasha ignored you and continued to fill out the form, confident that she knew just what to fill in about yourself.

“Okay, display photo. I think I have a couple of good ones of you saved on my laptop.”

She then proceeded to scroll through her library, pictures of the both of you coming to view from past moments—birthdays, Christmas, school events, and just about everything you’ve shared with your best friend.

She finally decided on a portrait of you, a picture she took just last year when you both went on a vacation in Malibu. You were wearing a white off-shoulder dress, looking away from the camera as you laughed shyly, one hand holding on to your beach hat and the other holding down the hem of your dress to keep the wind from lifting the skirt up.

“Oooh, I like this one! It’s a subtle look, yet it shows your side-profile. Daddies would love to see more of you just from this picture!” She exclaimed, pressing on the photo and it only took several seconds before your portrait was uploaded on the site.

“Nat, this is ridiculous.” You groaned out, leaning back against the headboard as you imagined yourself dating someone ten years older than you, or someone twice your age. It’s not that you were against people in relationships that have big age gaps; you just couldn’t imagine yourself being in one, considering the fact that you were awkward and shy and downright busy.

“Not until you fill up this form.” She returned, putting the laptop on your lap and in front of you was a form asking you what you liked in a person, your preferred age, what type of relationship, the like.

“Dude, you could literally just put 5-years older as your preferred age and it would give you a shitload of results!” Natasha added. “Come on, please? If you can’t find someone you think is suitable for you, then it’s fine. We could delete your account and just drop it off. I just thought we’d give it a go, because you kinda need someone to fill your empty heart as well.”

The teasing grin on her lips made you roll your eyes. “One, my heart isn’t empty. I have you and your family in here. Two, your idea is weird and crazy. And three,”

You looked down on the screen and bit your lip, bracing yourself for what you were about to say next.

“I’m gonna sign up. For you.”

What do you look for in a sugar mommy/daddy?

Someone who can provide for me financially while I study in medical school.

How old is your preferred age?

5 years older than me. No more than that.

What are your hobbies?

Eating, cooking, reading books, watching movies, sleeping

What are your likes and dislikes?

I really love pizza. I like staying up at night, and I really really love stargazing. I also love books and coffee shops. They’re my favorite.

I don’t have many dislikes though, I just hate surprise tests and cramming for exams. I also don’t like being bothered with when I’m studying.

Please choose below what you would likely prefer in a relationship. You can tick off as many as you like.

⚪️ BDSM

🔘 Balanced relationship

🔘 Cohabitation/Domestic Partnership (living in the same household as your partner; no marriage required)

⚪️ Friends with Benefits

🔘 Long Distance Relationship

⚪️ Marriage

🔘 Monogamous (exclusive relationship; only dedicated to one partner)

⚪️ Nonmonogamous (open to more than one partner)

🔘 Platonic

⚪️ Polyamory

⚪️ Sexual Partner

🔘 Temporary Partnership/Relationship

Thank you! Your account will be set up in a few minutes. Please wait.

“Holy shit I’m really doing this Nat.” You gasped as you watched a buffering circle indicating that your account was currently being created.

Natasha cackled next to you. “So you’d like a live-in partner, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “It could be helpful considering my situation right now.”

A ‘ping!’ sounded from the laptop and it notified that your account has been officially made. You were then directed to a new page. It was your very own profile page, showing your display photo and name at the top, and everything that you answered a while ago followed just below your name. Next to your display photo showed the number of followers and people you’re following, and the topmost right of the page was a white envelope, serving as your inbox.

“Wow,” you breathed out. “That was fast.”

“Okay!” Nat exclaimed enthusiastically. “Now all we have to do is wait!”

You groaned out as Nat took the laptop from your lap and you stretched your legs out, slightly tense from being curled in your recent position. You were starting to feel sleepy, so you decided to push yourself even lower on the bed until your head hit the soft pillow perfectly.

“I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll check on that tomorrow. I’m getting tired.” You announced as you yawned and stretched your arms out, one hand hitting your best friend on the cheek.

“Yeah, okay. We can check this out tomorrow. Tomorrow’s Sunday anyway.” Natasha agreed as she closed her laptop and put it on her bedside table, turning the lamp off in the process.

“Good night, Nat.”

“Good night sugar baby.”

...

Bucky arrived at his condominium, ignoring calls from his best friend. After he suddenly left lunch leaving Steve confused, the man wouldn’t stop calling him and sending him messages. He plopped down his velvet couch, grabbing his laptop that lay untouched on the coffee table, turning it on and became eager to open a website. He learned about this new website when he overheard a co-worker of his talking to another co-worker about some site for sugar babies. He instantly became curious, wanting to see how legit it was and before he knew it he found himself creating an account for his own.

He wants to help his best friend so bad. Steve has been too unyielding and bloody-minded. He doesn’t even try to put an effort when he’s been set up with dates, leaving women sad and disappointed. All Steve needed was the right woman to get him back in the game.

And this website just might help.

He began creating another account, filling in Steve’s biodata without hesitation. He chose a display picture that would surely catch girls’ attention. It was the one where he was invited to a grand opening of a new company owned by a few famous people and paparazzi were there, taking all Steve’s good angles and Bucky had saved one where he loved the most. He wore a suit and his hair was slicked back, his striking blue eyes gleaming in the light and a hint of pink lips protruding from his thick beard.

Once the account has been finally created and ready for matchmaking, Bucky began his search for eligible women that would be just right for his best friend.

...two hours later...

Hopeless. Bucky was beginning to feel so hopeless. Sure, he’s already come across countless of beautiful women but when he read their whole profile he began to hesitate. He wanted a girl that even he would certainly say yes to for his best friend, knowing that Steve Rogers was one picky man.

Just when he was in the verge of tears and about to give up, one girl caught his eye.

She was in the beach, laughing shyly and looking away from the camera, a hand holding on to her off-shoulder dress and the other keeping her beach hat from flying away.

She’s perfect.

She seemed shy and innocent and downright adorable; she’d be perfect for Steve’s dominant and stern facade.

Bucky was quick to send her a message.

Hi :) would you like to meet up sometime? I’m not much of a chatting-type of guy and I’d rather get to know you better in person. How about over a cup of coffee? x

That sounded a bit rushed. But Bucky just cannot wait any longer. He’s just going to hope that this girl knows the ever famous Steve Rogers and would instantly say yes.

............... ............... ............... ............... ............... ...............

Tags: @heyiamthatbitch @little-dark-empress @verdonafrost @fallenoutofrose @janell-r @ctrl-alt-jeon @radi0active-thoughts @veronawrites @art-estrange @polarcrystall @emilypkuzu @arizonalovesher @connerkentx @kovuthebean @sweetlittlegingy @daahlias @astridsagevans @tazzi-baby @laneygthememequeen @spideys-wife @the-thighs-of-betrayal @wxstedhexrt @domolovee @selluequestrian @rootcrop @rororo06 @ashleybang @evansmess @clueless-333 @sp2900 @x-black-haired-emo-x @ashxmarvel @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @songbirdmia @pepitasab @brokenrogerz @holographic84 @imahoeforbucky @starstruckpersonearthquake @illbethethundertoyourlightning

I’m sorry for those who can’t be tagged, I couldn’t find your account :( hmu if there’s been a mistake! x

[fantastic-bby]

One Month

Pairing: (F)Reader x Youngjae

Word count: 4.3k

Genre: Fluff | Romance | Non-Idol!AU | Soulmate AU 

Summary: While you’ve completely given up the idea of soulmates and love completely, Youngjae’s convinced that he can change your mind. Although the only thing he has is your long friendship, he’s willing to spend a whole month trying to win your heart...

Warnings: -

It’s ridiculous. That’s what you thought. There was no such thing as ‘strings’ or ‘akaito’. You had been through way too much pain to even think about the possibility of a soulmate. The dream of finding your soulmate had been crushed one too many times, and you had concluded that they just simply didn’t exist. 

That thought also made you feel bitter whenever you saw couples in the streets. You wondered how they were so lucky to actually be compatible when all of your previous lovers had failed to be compatible with you. You were convinced that no one could change your mind. 

Youngjae thought otherwise. 

“She just doesn’t believe in soulmates,” he sighs just as Coco jumps onto his lap. 

“Does she not believe in soulmates or does she just not want a relationship?” Mark asks as he hands Youngjae a mug of tea. 

“Could be both.” Another sigh leaves his lips as he looks down at the steaming beverage. 

Mark sits himself next to him, “How are you so sure about this anyway? Have you ever asked her directly?” He sips his own drink as he watches Youngjae. 

“I’ve known (Y/n) since we were in college. I’m always the person she comes to when her boyfriends break up with her.” Youngjae pauses to run his hand through Coco’s coily fur. “She hasn’t dated anyone since her last ex. Apparently, she’s completely given up the idea of love and soulmates completely.” 

“But you’re sure that she’s your soulmate,” Mark adds. He nods. 

“Hyung, every time I see her I get this feeling - it’s like my heart could probably pop out of my chest and fly towards her!” He almost spills his tea when he throws his arms up into the air; his hands scrambling to steady the cup. 

“If you spill that; you’re cleaning my couch,” the older man jokes. “Talk to her.” His statement makes Youngjae turn to him. “If you want her so badly, make a deal with her or something. Ask her to give you…” Mark trails off as he tries to plan it in his mind. His face lights up, “Ask her to give you time. See if you can convince her to believe in love again.” 

“Doesn’t that make me sound like a dick?” Youngjae questions. 

Mark hums for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re giving her a challenge. She’s gonna challenge herself to not fall in love with you, but when she does, she’ll fall harder than she realised.” It seems like a foolproof plan. Youngjae’s known you for six years. He knows you better than anyone else and he’d bet that he knows you better than you know yourself. 

He stays at Mark’s apartment for a bit longer, planning what Youngjae should do in order to win your heart. They’ve concluded that showing up at your apartment in the middle of the night would not only be irrational but it would also annoy the hell out of you. 

“Find some time to talk to her,” Mark says. “You guys have those monthly movie nights, right? Bring it up to her then.” His suggestion implants itself into Youngjae’s mind. The man carries the thought with him as he heads home, leash in hand and Coco running by his side. 

“Doesn’t seem like a bad idea, right, Coco?” Youngjae looks down to face his tiny dog. The maltese only turns her head to look up at him, tongue hanging out of her mouth as she pants. “Yeah, you don’t think it’s a bad idea,” he concludes as they continue with their walk home. 

As he walks, Youngjae wonders why you’ve never felt what he’s felt. He’s so certain that you’re his soulmate, but it always felt like something was missing. Every time he sees you, it’s like a glass of ice water on a hot day. Whenever he touches you, his entire body buzzes with joy. It just makes him wonder why can’t you feel it, too? Or if you do, why don’t you say anything? 

He honestly thought he was crazy when he first met you. Youngjae just saw you as radiant and beautiful, but you always seemed to see him as a friend. So, that’s what he was to you; your best friend. He considered telling you what he felt on the inside when you were graduating, but Youngjae was discouraged whenever he saw you with one of the engineering students. 

“Do you even think she would agree to it?” He questions Coco as he walks into the lift of his apartment. Coco sits patiently and looks up at him, tilting her head. “She would...right?” 

»»————-　　————-««

“Pizza?” You suggest as you lean over your counter, phone in hand and eyes watching Youngjae. 

“I’m fine with anything,” he shrugs as he pulls a bottle of soju out from your fridge. “Wine, soju or no alcohol?” You click your tongue as you think about it. You could skip the alcohol and avoid the possibility of a hangover in the morning - which could save you stress from work - or you could just have wine and drink the night away with Youngjae by your side. 

“Fuck it; wine. My boss is driving me nuts.” Youngjae says no more as he puts the soju back in to grab the large bottle of red wine and places it on the counter. 

He rummages through your cabinets to pull our two wine glasses, “What did he do this time?” 

“He promoted that asshole in my office who’s only been working there for a year! I worked my ass off for four years, flew to Shanghai on my own last year because Kayla was sick, I got the company three different projects in the past two years, and Jason gets promoted because his daddy’s the CEO! Youngjae, he doesn’t even know how to use the editing software. He’s part of the editing team and he doesn’t know how to edit jack shit.” When you’re finished with your rant, Youngjae chuckles as he slides a glass of wine towards you. 

“Why don’t you make friends with him and convince him to promote you?” he suggests nonchalantly. 

“He’s an arrogant asshole who pushed my coffee out of my hands the other day in front of the office,” you deadpan. Youngjae’s face contorts into a grimace.

“He’s lucky none of us work with you or he’d get some sense beaten into him,” he chuckles. 

“Can’t you just bring Jackson to the office one day? He doesn’t even need to do anything, he just needs to stand there and flex. Jason would piss himself the moment he sees Jackson’s big ass muscles,” you jokingly say. 

“I’m not going to send my friends to your office just to scare them,” Youngjae snorts. 

You let out a whine and pout, “I was just joking. But all jokes aside, I really wanna-” You imitate the action of strangling someone, aggressively shaking your hands back and forth while he laughs at you. 

“Violence is never the answer, (Y/n).” 

“Wouldn’t you know.” You turn to him and raise an eyebrow, silently reminding him of that fight he got into when you were still in college.

“Wh- We were twenty-two!” He scoffs, “That guy was drunk and he probably would’ve hurt Yugyeom!” You cross your arms over your chest and raise an eyebrow at him. Youngjae’s nose scrunches up in annoyance as he grumbles, “Okay, fine - I was jealous! Was that what you wanted to hear?” 

You roll your eyes, “Why would you be jealous? We were just dancing.” You pick up the wine bottle and your glass, turning around to make your way to the living room. 

“Because I was in love with you.” You freeze in your tracks. You slowly turn around, seeing Youngjae’s eyes trailed to the ground. 

“W-What?” You watch in shock as he takes a deep breath, running a hand through his dark brown hair. 

“I’ve been in love with you since we first met,” he confesses. “A-And I don’t know how you haven’t noticed at all in the past six years.” Youngjae’s looking at you now; soft brown eyes holding so much desperation that you can’t help but feel guilty. 

“Y-Youngjae,” you place the glass onto the counter and rest the palm of your hands onto the smooth marble surface, “You know I don’t date anymore. I’m…” you turn away from him, not liking how vulnerable you suddenly felt. Usually, it wouldn’t mind that Youngjae would see this side to you, but now, it felt different. “I don’t believe in love anymore. It scares me.” 

He rounds the counter and stands in front of you, “I promise I would never hurt you. Please, if you just give me a chance, I’ll prove to you that maybe love does exist.” You eye him skeptically. How could he change your mind? But more importantly: how have you been so unaware of his feelings towards you? “I bet I could make you fall in love with me in one month.” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You maintain your skeptical gaze, your arms crossed over your chest. It would be an interesting bet to see if Youngjae could play his cards right to make you change your mind. He also knows that you’re not the type of person to turn down bets. 

“What would be in it for me?” Your question makes him smirk. 

“If you don’t fall in love, I’ll make you dinner every night for a whole month.” You cock an eyebrow at the tempting offer. 

“But, what if I do?” you tilt your head curiously. 

“If you fall in love, then we get together,” Youngjae tells you. You think over the bet as you stare at him. “It would benefit both of us if you do end up falling in love, and I’ll prove to you that love isn’t all that bad.”

You purse your lips into a straight line. You’re sure that you could win the deal. After all, you’ve managed to go through a friendship with Youngjae without falling in love with him. “Deal.”

“The month begins tomorrow,” he smiles. 

»»————-　　————-««

Date One

Youngjae: Are you busy tonight? 

(Y/n): Nope

Youngjae: Let’s go out. Wear something casual. I’ll be there by eight. 

You stare at his message. You were preparing yourself in being adamant on not falling in love with him - actually, you were just convinced that he would be unable to change your mind. After the years of heartbreak and betrayal by your past lovers, you just couldn’t believe in the idea of true love. Dating was scratched out of your life by the time you were twenty-two and the idea of marriage was tossed out the window on your twenty-third birthday. 

Though, you were curious on just how far Youngjae would go in order to win your heart. So, by seven you were already getting ready. You look through your close, opting for just a crop top and a pair of denim shorts. The summer was starting to make the temperature rise day-by-day and you were certain that even at night, it was still going to be quite warm. 

You hear the doorbell to your apartment ringing right as you’re grabbing your bag from your bed. You head out of your bedroom and open the door to see Youngjae nervously standing outside of your apartment. He quickly changes his stance when he realises the door is open and smiles, 

“Shall we?” You step out of your apartment and follow by his side.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You question, glancing over at him. 

“It’s a surprise, but you’ll love it.” Youngjae turns to you with a smile. You raise an eyebrow as he leads you out of your apartment. “It’s walking distance, but that’s all I’ll tell you,” he says when he sees the questioning look on your face. Your mind wanders to the possibilities of where he’s taking you while you both walk. It’s only when you see it that it hits you.

“The Summer Funfair!” You gasp loudly and turn to him. Youngjae has his usual bright smile on his face as he nods. He pulls out a tiny pouch filled with tokens that he had bought a week prior for the fair. When you saw that there was going to be a funfair nearby your house, you failed to leave Youngjae in the dark about it. You had bugged him about accompanying you halfway through spring when it was announced. 

“You kept saying you wanted to check it out, so I thought that I could bring you here for our first date.” There’s a pink tint to his cheeks as he speaks. For the first time, you realise how cute he looks when he blushes. Youngjae pulls you through the large floral decorated gates, the two of you immediately being enveloped by a sense of joy and excitement. Children run past you, couples hold hands as they wander through the fair and Youngjae hopes he can hold yours. 

You turn to Youngjae, “Can we ride the pirate ship?” Your finger points to the large ship that swings through the air in the distance and your best friend swears he feels his entire soul leaving his body as he watches it. 

“(Y/n), y-you know I don’t handle heights well,” he gulps. 

“Youngjae, please,” you pout. “You can’t tell me that you bring me here but we can’t ride the pirate ship.” You cross your arms over your chest as Youngjae stares at you with a gaping mouth and wide eyes. He lets out a deep sigh before nodding. You let out an excited squeal and grab his hand, dragging him straight to the ride. 

All he can think of, though, is the feeling of your hand in his. Youngjae feels that familiar buzzing sensation that he gets every time your skin touches his as he looks at the way you’re completely oblivious to how he’s watching you. 

When you reach the line to the fair, it seems that lady luck is by your side since there’s barely a line. Youngjae feels his stomach sink when he realises that means, “We can sit at the very back!” You turn to him with sparkling eyes. Your excitement is the only thing that keeps him from backing out and he chuckles before nodding awkwardly. 

Youngjae watches the ship swing all the way to the top, stopping as it hangs upside down and he can’t help but know he might throw up. He’s lucky he skipped dinner since he knew you’d want to buy food at the fair instead. He watches as you bounce on your feet, waiting for your turn as more people line up behind you. 

“(Y/n), I’m not so sure about this…” he trails off when the line starts moving forward. 

“Youngjae, you’ll be fine,” you reassure him as you hold onto his wrist once again. “I’ll hold your hand through the whole thing, okay?” He stares at you before realising there’s seriously no way out of this and allows you to pull him towards the ship.

»»————-　　————-««

“(Y/n), I really don’t think I can go on another ride,” Youngjae whines as you continue to pull him through the fair. 

“Let’s take a break from the rides, okay?” You turn to him. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at the relieved look on his face. The grumble of his stomach is audible to you and his face immediately flushes red. “Let’s get something to eat before your stomach hurts,” you take his hand and drag him through the crowd once again. 

You stop at one of the stalls selling corn dogs and see Youngjae’s face light up. He steps forward to look at the menu, turning around to notice that you’ve disappeared. He stands a bit taller to look for you in the crowd, seeing you standing in front of a game stall with wide eyes. Youngjae lets out a chuckle - how could he have forgotten just how quick you are when you see something that catches your eye.

He buys two corn dogs before walking towards where you are, “What are you looking at?” Youngjae asks when he’s standing beside you while holding one of his hands out. 

“That,” you point towards the large panda plushie. 

“You were staring at that for five whole minutes?” He questions as he takes a bite out of his corn dog. You nod silently as you by your own. “I’ll win it for you.” Youngjae holds the corn dog in between his teeth as he goes up. 

“Shoot all the cans down and you get to choose your prize,” the venodor tells him. He gestures to the sign sitting on the wooden counter reading “four tokens”. Youngjae digs into his pocket to pull out his tokens - all the while with the corn dog still in his mouth - before handing it to the man who hands him the toy gun. 

You stand by his side, munching away at the snack in your hands as you watch him shoot the cans. You glance over at Youngjae, your mind filling with amusement at the sight of him with a toy rifle and a corn dog hanging from his mouth. You pull your phone out of your pocket and quickly snap a photo of him.

“You better win me that panda or I’ll send this to your friends,” you threaten playfully as you wave the phone in front of him. Youngjae gives you a warning glare before successfully shooting down the last can. A surge of joy washes over you and you start bouncing on your feet as you watch him hand the gun back to the man. 

“The panda plushie, please,” he says as he finally pulls the corn dog out of his mouth. The vendor turns around and you can feel yourself filling with more excitement as you watch him pull the massive panda plushie off of the shelf. You start bouncing on your feet as the panda comes closer to Youngjae who takes it from the man, thanking him with a smile before he turns to you, “Ta da!” 

You take the large plushie from him, your bottom lip caught between your teeth to stop yourself from smiling too wide - you’re still smiling anyway. “Thank you, Youngjae!” You hug the panda to yourself with one arm while you open your other arm at him. He can’t stop his own smile as he hugs you, his right hand held out behind you to keep the mustard on the corn dog from accidentally touching you. 

When he pulls away, he’s still smiling, “Do you like it?” You nod ecstatically. Youngjae’s smile grows, his arm stays wrapped around your shoulder as you start to walk once again. 

“What ride should we go on next?” You wonder out loud, causing him to pull his arm away from you. 

“Please not the roller coaster,” he groans. You look between him and the loop-the-loop in the distance before grabbing his hand and dragging him straight there. 

»»————-　　————-««

Date Two

“Movie night?” you question when you see Youngjae standing outside with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a plastic bag held in the other. He nods, a small smile pulling on his lips. You let him into your apartment and take the bag from his hands. 

“There’s a whole bag of popcorn in there and two cans of sprite.” 

“I’ll put the popcorn in the bowl,” you tell him, “go ahead and choose a movie.” Youngjae obliges and heads towards your living room. When you enter the living room with a bowl of popcorn, he’s already chosen a movie. “Zootopia?” He nods as he presses play just as you plop yourself on the spot beside him. 

“You haven’t seen it, but you promised me a few years ago that you would. So, now I’m gonna make you watch it,” he hums. 

"Are you turning me into a furry?” you narrow your eyes at him accusingly. Youngjae bellows with laughter as he shakes his head. 

“I just know you’ll like it.”

»»————-　　————-««

"Are you crying?" Youngjae looks at you, stunned. You turn to him with tears streaming down your face and point at the screen,

"H-Her crying made me sad." He feels his insides soften and he coos before opening his left arm. You cuddle into his side without much thought and rest your head against his chest. 

"You're so cute," he chuckles and glances down at you.

"You get amusement out of my crying?" You glare at him accusingly. Youngjae stares at your glare before doing something he's hesitated with for years; he leans down and kisses your forehead. 

"I just said you're cute - nothing else.” You look up at him with cheeks flushed from the gesture. Youngjae only smiles at you softly. You look into his brown eyes and feel butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

“That’s weird,” you think out loud as you turn away from him. He hums questioningly but you shake your head, “I-it’s nothing.” You’re more confused than ever at the thought of Youngjae being the person who makes you feel the way you do. Throughout the rest of the movie, your mind is occupied by how he’s treated you. 

“Are you okay? You seem a bit distant,” Youngjae asks as he turns to look at you. You’re snapped out of your thoughts and nod quickly. 

“I’m fine,” you reassure him. He gives you a weird look but doesn’t question further and instead, stands to bring the empty bowl into your kitchen. Once you’re alone, you continue to think about Youngjae - or more specifically, his actions. The night ends with you bidding him goodbye at your front door where he waves as you close the door. You lean against the door and think about it further. 

Maybe Youngjae would find your heart easier to win than you thought.

»»————-　　————-««

Date Three

You step into the cafe with wide eyes. “This cafe is so cute!” you gasp when you look around at the white walls decorated with fake vines hanging from the ceiling. 

“I told you you’d like it,” Youngjae chuckles as he watches how you admire the entire cafe. He loves to watch how excited you get around cute things.  “Go ahead and sit down first, I’ll order for you.” You oblige, heading off to one of the tables by the large window that outlooks the street. You sit down and watch as Youngjae lines up at the counter. 

You tell yourself it’s because he’s trying to win your heart when you can’t help but admire his efforts. Youngjae truly is a gentleman. Whether or not you failed to pay attention to him throughout the years of your friendship was something that you debated over silently. Youngjae returns to you while you’re still lost in thought, the sound of his placing a tray on the table being the reason you come back to reality.

“I got you macaroons and iced tea,” he says as he places the tall glass in front of you. Youngjae takes the plate off of the tray as well as his own drink before moving the tray aside. You coo when you see the macarons.

“They look like little kitties.” You pull out your phone and snap a quick photo of the cutely decorated macarons before gingerly picking up a mint green one. The cat face and ears are drawn on with chocolate and you almost feel bad for eating it because of how cute it is. 

“(Y/n), you can’t just stare at it forever,” Youngjae chuckles when he sees your hesitation. 

“I can’t just eat it, it’s so cute,” you pout and turn the dessert around to show him the cat face. “Would you eat me, Youngjae?” you move the macaron around him as though the cat was talking to him. He swipes the macaron from your hand and pops the whole thing in his mouth. A smile grows on Youngjae’s face when he sees your gobsmacked expression. “You’re so heartless.” 

“If you don’t want to eat them, I’ll eat all of them.” His hand hovers over the rest of the macarons threateningly and it causes you to slowly pull the plate closer to you. 

“Nuh uh, I’m not going to let stone cold Youngjae eat all of them.” You decide against looking at the macaron since you know you might feel bad again - you honestly don’t know why you do - and pop it into your mouth. The moment you bite into it, the sweet and citrusy flavour of it envelopes your tongue. 

“You’re adorable,” Youngjae chuckles, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tries not to smile too wide at you. You face contorts in confusion at the sudden statement. “You were doing that happy dance you do whenever you eat something you like.” Your entire body freezes and you’re surprised when you feel flustered. 

You silently take a sip from your drink to avoid saying anything. Youngjae lets out another chuckle but decides against commenting on your flustered state. You look away from him and out the window, desperately trying to make your blush go away as quickly as possible. He watches with a small smile on his face. He’s made you flustered before, but he’s never made you this flustered. 

"Anyway," you clear your throat, "what's your plan for the whole month?" 

"There is no plan," he states. You give him a confused look. "I'm just going to treat you like I always do. I know you better than anyone else, and I'll use what I know to win your heart." 

"You sound pretty confident in yourself, huh?" you tease. Youngjae smiles before reaching over to take your hand in his, 

"It's because I know I do." You look down at his hand that's holding yours so gingerly, his thumb running over your knuckles. You watch as he suddenly stands and rounds the table to sit at the empty seat beside yours. 

Youngjae leans towards you and kisses you. You swear there's a switch inside you that flicks the moment his lips are on yours because you know, 

You know you didn't love him this way before. 

[oh-obrien]

Paper Houses {1.0}

Pairings: Bellamy Blake (AU) X Original Female Character

Warnings: Mentions of Underage Drinking and Recreational Drug Use

Word Count: 5,502 (a little shorter to kick off here).

Author’s Note: This one is going to be a fun ride, and I’m really excited for the story I have planned. Each section will be a mix between the present and either the past or the future, time changes will usually be pretty clear and they try to help support the plot throughout the entire story. It’s more of a college-esqu AU but you’ll see what happens. Also the title is inspired by Niall Horan’s song Paper Houses which is one of my all time favorites of his and that should be a little hint for some of the plot.

“Some guy on tinder last night slid into my DM’s!” Aisling yelled over the music that had been turned up so loud it felt like the bass had begun to make her teeth vibrate. The playlist that had been on most of the night had a mix of the friend’s favorite songs on it, everyone contributing their top ten favorite songs to be added. Aisling would have turned the music down if her dad's property didn’t have ten acres, she felt more than comfortable with the fact that none of their ‘neighbors’ would be disturbed by her friends. “Yeah! And he goes, ‘oh you’re that bitchy girl on the Arkadia lacrosse team all the boys talk about,’ I was absolutely dying!”

Harper laughed before giving Aisling a questioning look. “Isn’t that what Tinder is for?” She asked with a confused tilt to her voice, “sliding into people’s DM’s?” Aisling found it amusing sometimes how easy it had been for Harper and Monty to find each other; they were each other's first loves, and everyone believed they’d be in it for the long run. Their two-year anniversary had just passed, and the couple seemed happier than ever. 

“Aisling is too busy pining after Bellamy to actually use dating apps the right way,” Clarke waved off Aisling’s warning glare as she finished taking a drink out of the bottle in her hand. “Everyone here knows you’re in love with Bellamy, don’t act so surprised.” Clarke hiccupped and laughed before continuing, “and you say that like this entire island doesn’t revolve around lacrosse and everyone doesn’t know you as ‘that bitchy girl on Arkadia’s lacrosse team’, who even was it?”

“Probably Finn!” Raven announced loudly before she and Clarke both started laughing again, both clearly well past tipsy and on their way to drunk. “Why doesn’t your dad go out of town every weekend? This is awesome!” Having the two girls hungover at playoffs tomorrow would be an absolute treat for the rest of the friend group, that is if they weren’t all hungover the next morning.  

Aisling just shook her head while she stood up, stretching afterwards, her spine cracking in that sickly satisfying way when she turned to the left. “My dad doesn’t have an away game every weekend, ask the AEC if they can switch his schedule to no home games.” She set her water down on the table before turning around. “Actually don’t,” she corrected herself after realizing she wouldn’t put it past Raven and Clarke to actually email God knows who at the America East Conference and ask to have Stony Brook’s football season shifted to all away games while they were drunk. 

Aisling took Raven and Clarke falling into a very animated conversation about how much they dislike their shared ex as her cue to leave. Slipping her feet back into her flip flops, she made her way up the stairs of her home’s large patio and grabbed her half-drunk bottle of Gatorade off the wooden railing after she reached the top. “How’s not drinking going?” Octavia asked while they both looked out into Aisling’s backyard, filled with their friends who were all probably at least tipsy. 

The lights her father had installed into the yard when she had been younger lit up the area and the pool sat illuminated in the background. The early Long Island summer air still had a chill to it, enough of one that Aisling slipped on a hoodie when she had gone inside to order dinner earlier. They were waiting for Octavia’s older brother, Bellamy, and their friend, John Murphy, to get back from picking up the group’s excessively large order from The Dead Zone.

Leaning over the wooden railing of her deck, a bottle of red Gatorade in her hand, Aisling just laughed, her shoulders shaking slightly. “I can’t believe we’re the ones who have playoffs tomorrow and we’re babysitting our drunk friends. Like I at least wanted to take a couple shots of something,” she scrunched her nose up when the strong smell of marijuana washed over her. “I said no weed Jasper! Monty too! It does not need to get out that my dad lets his daughter’s friends come over while he’s at a game to drink underage and smoke pot!”

Aisling rolled her eyes when she heard the boys in question yell “Sorry!”. Where they even were in her large yard wasn’t a question she asked anymore, she just needed to make sure they stayed out of trouble. 

“Effective,” Octavia laughed. “So,” She trailed off while she dangled her water bottle over the edge of the deck, swinging it back and forth slowly. “Is your dad still recruiting that boy from-” Octavia got cut off when the two girls heard the back door slide open. Bellamy and John each carried two large boxes that were filled with food. At least she knew that their weekly orders were probably paying some of the bills at the Dead Zone. 

“They have your dad’s card on file?” Murphy said as he set his boxes down on the outside kitchen’s countertop. “Because we said we were picking up under Bryne and the guy was like ‘oh yeah Aisling called we put it on the card already’, that was at least three hundred easy.” Aisling grabbed her order of mozzarella sticks and crunchy chicken wrap before shrugging. 

She bit into one of the sticks before speaking. “When my dad says to buy whatever we want and he has the salary he does, I think it’s fine.” She set her things down on the outdoor bar. “Tell the drunken delinquents that their food is here, but I suggest grabbing yours first.” She walked over to the fridge and sifted past the countless types of alcohol that had been placed inside it earlier to grab a bottle of raspberry tea, cracking the top before grabbing her food and walking out to the pool. 

Walking past her friends who were going to retrieve whatever they had ordered, Aisling pushed the gate to her family’s large inground pool open, walking around the brick deck area before carefully setting her things down next to the edge of the deep end. She balanced on one arm while she slid her feet into the water, the LED lights in the pool illuminating the water in different colors. She slowly kicked her feet back and forth, watching the water ripple as she did. 

“Food for thought?” She gasped and nearly fell into the pool when she heard Bellamy’s voice. She hadn’t heard him enter the pool area and wasn’t really paying enough attention to have heard him anyway. “Sorry if I scared you,” he set three containers down along with a bottle of Cherry Coke. 

Aisling just shook her head, “you’re okay, I wasn’t paying attention so part of that is on me. You can drink, you know?” She nodded towards the bottle of Coke, “you’re like the only one of us who’s actually twenty-one.” She kept kicking her feet in the water, watching as it rippled out with each movement she made. She hoped that it would distract her from the fact that Bellamy Blake actually sat down right next to her. Well, it’s not like they’re not in close proximity all the time, because they are, but this just feels different.  

“I’d rather not leave the babysitting up to just you and O,” Bellamy picked up one of his wings and bit into it, licking the extra sauce off his lips before continuing. Aisling tried not to watch as his tongue swept across his lips, that would definitely be awkward if he caught her. “You two are stressed enough as is, you more-so probably,” he continued to devour his food. 

“I’m not like, stressed,” Ash mumbled around the bite of chicken wrap she had in her mouth, “I know I’m playing at Penn State next year, my commitment is locked in if we win tomorrow and move on to states or not.” She wiped her hands off on a napkin, “it’s not like a problem for seniors y’know?”

Bellamy dropped the bone that had been left from his first wing back into the container before grabbing a few french fries out of another container and shoving them into his mouth.

“It’s still probably weird for you,” Bellamy spoke after a few moments of silence between the pair, “I mean sure you’re graduating a year early and with almost all of your friends now,” Bellamy took a long sip of his Coke. “And I know that almost all of you are going away to school, but Clarke is going with Raven and they’ll be able to room together. Jasper and Monty are doing the same thing, Miller’s staying here and I think Murphy is taking it day by day,” Aisling laughed at that, “but you’re going up to Pennsylvania by yourself, a month earlier than everyone else is leaving, it’s just weird is all.”

Aisling wasn’t quite sure how to respond, sure she’d had a weird sense of guilt about being the first of their friend group to leave home nagging her for months, but she hadn’t had someone else bring it up to her yet. Bellamy had seemed to be one of the few constant figures in her life since she had met Octavia at her very first lacrosse practice in second grade. The now twenty-three-year-old, had spent more than his fair share of time babysitting Octavia and Aisling when they were younger. He had played too many board games, fallen victim to makeovers and watched more Disney movies than any teenage boy would have wanted to admit at the time. However, he always did it with a smile and never seemed anything less than happy to be with the girls. That had never been something Aisling experienced with her own brother’s.

Patrick, Aisling’s oldest brother, had been in the tenth grade when she had been born. He had been in the middle of the college recruiting process for football and sat at the number five spot for recruits nationwide. He didn’t have time to deal with a baby sister, especially after he went off to Louisiana State University right before Aisling had turned two. Tanner, who had been in kindergarten at the time, also didn’t want much to do with Aisling. He had been much more engrossed in learning how to play football with his dad and older brother, something she didn’t blame him at all for. Football had been their family’s culture for decades. Around the time Aisling had been born her dad had just started coaching college football at Baylor after his pro career with the Cowboys had ended due to injury, football was in the Bryne blood.

Two weeks before Aisling had started second grade the Bryne family had relocated to Arkadia, New York. A small beach town about ten minutes from Stony Brook University, home of the Stony Brook Seawolves football team and her father’s new head coaching job. She met Octavia Blake at the very first lacrosse practice she attended after moving. Aisling hadn’t wanted to play lacrosse at first, but her father insisted his daughter at least learn to play lacrosse if she would never have the chance to carry on the family name playing football.

“I-” Aisling started but couldn’t figure out how she should respond. “It’s not that I’m not upset, because I am, trust me,” she went to take another bite of her wrap, but her appetite had seemed to disappear. “It’s just an opportunity that’s kind of hard to turn down, and Penn State is one of the top teams in the country Bellamy, they’re looking like they’re going to make it to at least play-off, if not to a national title game next year.”

Silence came over the two and Aisling wasn’t quite sure how to continue. ‘Yeah I love you and it sucks I have to leave?’ definitely not smart. “I guess all I’m saying is that,” Bellamy sighed, “as weird as it is for you, it’s just as weird for everyone else and some of us feel like you’re putting what your family wants before what you want.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Aisling Bryne had always been raised to be an athlete, to be competitive, not to be nice. With a former NFL player and current Division 1 College Football Coach for a father, one brother in the NFL with a Super Bowl ring on his finger and another brother attending the University of Texas as the number one ranked college quarterback in the country, she knew no different. She grew up living and breathing football, which meant she also grew up around her dad’s players and her brother’s teammates. 

Safe to say unrealistic relationship standards had been set for her very early on in her life.

At the age of ten Aisling’s competitive nature had earned her the very first broken bone. A Saturday morning lacrosse tournament during college football season meant that Aisling’s father, Sean, wouldn’t be able to attend. Instead, she had stayed with her best friend and teammate Octavia Blake the night before. Aurora Blake had ordered two pizzas before she had to go to work and left her son, Bellamy, with strict instructions to make sure the girls didn’t inhale all the sugar in the house and that they got to bed early. Luckily, Bellamy had let the pair stay up for one extra movie and even made them hot chocolate!

Octavia and Aisling were both in fifth grade while all their other teammates were in sixth or seventh grade! The two girls had proved their athletic abilities very early on in their lacrosse careers and instead of being put into the 10U division when they were eight, they had been bumped up to 12U early. They had formed a tight knit friendship rather quickly and both girls intended to stay playing on the same team until they were forced to part ways in college, if they didn’t commit to the same team, of course. Now they played on a 14U team and it was hard to form bonds with the girls in middle school while they were still in elementary school.

The two girls sat on the sidelines of the turf field, lacing their cleats up along with the rest of their teammates, getting ready for the final game of the day. The Arkadia Knights 14U team had made it all the way to the tournament’s championship game and all the girls wanted to win another trophy. “I’m still not great at tying these by myself,” Aisling held the two laces in her hands while she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“Oh,” Octavia looked over to her best friend with a crooked smile, some of her visible teeth still missing, “I’m not good at doing other people’s yet.” She huffed while looking around them.

“I don’t want to ask one of the other girls,” Aisling whispered so only Octavia could hear. “They’ll think I’m a baby!” She had spent long enough trying to prove she could play just as well as the older girls on the team. After she had taken one of the starting defensive spots from a sixth grader, Aisling wasn't sure if they liked her very much anymore. She did not want to have to ask for help tying her cleats, what if it got back to their coach that she couldn’t do it by herself and he took her spot away?

Octavia spent a little longer looking around before turning to aisling with a smile. “You could ask Bellamy!” She pointed to her older brother who sat next to her mom in the stands, clearly engrossed in his phone. Bellamy would also probably think Aisling was a baby for not being able to tie her own cleats, he had been the starting quarterback for their highschool football team as a sophomore! Definitely too cool for little kids. 

However, asking Bellamy seemed like a better option than asking one of her other teammates so Aisling sighed and pushed herself off the ground, carefully walking towards the stands. She made her way up the metal stands and over to where Bellamy and Aurora Blake sat. “Hey Ash,” Aurora looked at the younger girl, “what’s wrong?”

“I can't tie my cleats and make them stay by myself,” she looked down at her untied laces. “And I didn’t want to ask one of the other girls because they’ll think I’m a little kid and make fun of me and O said to ask Bellamy.” 

At the mention of his name the teenager in question looked up and set his phone down next to him. “No one should be making fun of you for that, Ash,” Bellamy patted his knee and Aisling put her right foot up on it. She watched as Bellamy quickly double knotted her first cleat before telling her to switch. “Don’t let anyone be mean to you or O because you’re younger, okay?” Bellamy asked after he finished tying her second cleat.

“Okay,” she nodded, “thanks Bell!” She waved before running back down to join her team. 

About halfway into the third quarter while playing defense Aisling had managed to check the ball out of an opposing player’s stick and scooped it up before she started running up the field to find an open teammate. Just as she had been about to cross midfield, she noticed a player from the other team running up to try and block her.

However, the other player clearly had another idea and Aisling didn’t have time to move before the head of the other girl’s stick came down hard on her wrist. A crack could be heard upon impact and Aisling’s stick fell out of her hand before she fell on the ground, holding her right arms close to herself. The penalty whistle on the other player didn’t register in her mind as her coach came running out to make sure she was okay. 

When she pulled her arm far enough away from herself to look at it, she noticed her wrist had been bent at an odd angle and she couldn’t really feel her fingers. Octavia sat down on the turf next to her while her coach went to go get Aisling’s cell phone so she could call her dad. “He has a game today!” Aisling winced when her assistant coach wrapped an ice pack around her wrist.

“Well it looked broken, I’m sure he could miss his game because you got hurt,” Octavia helped aisling up and they walked off the field to where Aurora and Bellamy were waiting. Aurora had her phone held to her ear but stopped talking to tell Octavia to gather up her and Aisling’s things.   

“Let’s see what this looks like,” Bellamy carefully pulled the ice pack away from Aisling’s wrist and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when he too noticed the odd angle it had been bent at. “Mom called your dad,” Bellamy spoke softly while he wrapped her arm back up in the ice pack, “he said we could take you straight to the college if you’re the most comfortable with that,” Aisling just shrugged and held her arm close to herself again.

She knew that there would be actual doctors, definitely an orthopedist, at Stony Brook that day with there being a home game. The tournament had put them about half an hour away from the university and the Blakes knew that she didn’t like hospitals, especially after her mom had passed, so it seemed like the most obvious solution.  “I mean, I don’t want to bother anyone with you guys having to go there. You could just bring me home once the game is over and I’m sure my brothers will know what to do.”

“There’s a football game!” Octavia dropped her and Aisling’s things on the ground before she started to pack them up, “I’m sure Bell won’t be bothered going to Stony Brook the same day there happens to be a football game going on.”

Bellamy shrugged, his hair falling into his eyes a little bit while he picked up Aisling’s packed lacrosse bag. “Let’s go Ash, I’ll sit in the back with you to make sure you’re okay and O will be more than happy to ride shotgun, I’m sure,” he smiled at his younger sister. Octavia just answered her brother with a wide smile and ran off in the direction of her mom’s car while Aisling got sent off with well wishes from her teammates and coaches. 

After driving the half an hour to Stony Brook Aisling pulled out the SBU ID card her dad had gotten her for when she had to spend days at the stadium or training fields. She handed Aurora her card when they pulled up to the security booth and rolled down the passenger side windows while they waited for one of the security guards to approach them. “Hey Ted!” Aisling waved with her good hand while the older man walked up to the car. “Ms. Blake has my ID card! Dad’s expecting us,” she pointed to her arm that Bellamy still held tightly wrapped up in the ice pack. 

“He did call and tell me you’d be coming,” Ted laughed lightly before waving off Aisling’s ID card. “I’m sure Ash could direct you to the medical center, Sean called the orthopedist and he’s waiting for her.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of sideline tickets for the game. “He also left these, told me that someone would be very interested in watching the game.” 

Aisling reached out and grabbed the game tickets with her good arm, “see,” she waved them in Bellamy’s face. “I told you dad would let you watch the game!” She handed him the three tickets. “Now let’s go get this fixed because I also want to see the game!” She waved goodbye to Ted and started to direct Aurora to the medical center.

Bellamy watched with fascination as they drove around the football complex, his eyes clearly trying to take in everything they could. Being a sophomore in high school and a starting quarterback currently ranked twelfth for the position nationally, Bellamy already had coaches looking to begin the recruiting process. Those coaches included Sean Bryne. “I think it’s a bit much,” Aisling speaking snapped Bellamy out of his trance, “but that’s what Division 1 football looks like apparently,” she winced as they went over a speed bump.

Aurora pulled up outside the medical center and Bellamy got out first before rounding the front of the car to help Aisling out, holding her arm steady while she did. She felt the bones inside shifting and it hurt, really bad, but she couldn’t cry in front of Bellamy of all people. Instead she bit down on her tongue while the pair made their way inside the building. “Mark!” Aisling smiled when she saw the team orthopedist, he wasn’t at the university every day, but when he was, he usually showed Aisling pictures of his dogs. 

“What happened to you!” Mark gave Bellamy a thankful smile while he took Aisling’s arm out of the teen’s careful hold. “Your dad told me you’d be coming!” He led Aisling over to one of the many medical style tables in the large room, picking her up by her waist and setting her down. 

Bellamy followed behind the pair, unsure what he should do now that he didn’t have Aisling to actively take care of. “Is he here?” He heard Aisling ask while the man, Mark, unwrapped the ice pack and small towel from around her arm.

“No,” Bellamy winced when he heard Mark mumble the word. “His game is starting soon, but I promised I’d take care of you!” A younger woman walked out from a different room and Mark lifted Aisling up again and set her on the ground. “How about you go with Heidi and get an x-ray then we’ll fix you up!” He ushered Aisling toward the blonde woman.    

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

“I cannot believe you still have that,” Bellamy really needed to stop sneaking up on her. Aisling didn’t even flinch this time while she continued peeling her rings off her fingers, tucking each one back into the box it belonged in. The party had begun to die down and with assurance that Murphy had actually stayed sober, Aisling and Octavia didn’t feel too bad going to bed early so that they could be well rested for playoffs the next morning.

She felt Bellamy’s presence at her side and watched as he reached up on the top shelf of her dresser to pick up the smallest cast there. The purple plaster appeared to be old and dusty from all the time it had sat on display. She also felt oddly at ease with how comfortable he felt being in her space. There had never been an awkwardness in the air with the two while they moved about each other’s spaces. They were just able to easily exist together and function like a well-oiled machine. It was comforting.

“I kept all of them,” Aisling watched as Bellamy turned the small cast over in his hand, being careful not to pull apart the plaster that had been glued back together once Aisling had it taken off. She grabbed her second cast off the shelf, the one from a wrestling match with her older brothers that had gotten slightly out of hand. “Here,” she grabbed the purple one out of Bellamy’s hand.

She turned it over and pointed to a signature that had been signed in silver, right above where her thumb would have been when she had the cast on. “Oh my god, my handwriting was absolutely terrible, how did I actually do well in school,” he laughed lightly. 

“This one got a little better,” Aisling turned the second cast over in her hand, this one orange instead of purple, and pointed to Bellamy’s signature that had been placed in the same spot and written in the same color.  

Aisling braced herself on her dresser with her right hand while she placed both casts back into their places with her left. Her left forearm still had the scar that stretched from about three inches below her elbow to her wrist. After her oldest brother had practically snapped her arm in half, by accident of course, she needed to have screws put in to hold it together. “Won’t you miss things like this too?” Bellamy sat down on Aisling’s bed.

The girl in question didn’t answer immediately as she continued to peel off the jewelry that she had put on earlier that morning. She had never been one to dress fancy, usually being most comfortable in a pair of shorts or jeans and a tee or hoodie. However, Aisling did love to pair every outfit she wore with an abundance of jewelry. In her sophomore year her friends had started joking that she looked naked without any jewelry on. She always had the same earrings in, two diamond studs, her birthstone, in both earlobes and a helix piercing in her left ear. She also tended to wear the same necklace every day, but it could almost be guaranteed that she would never wear the same combination of rings or bracelets. 

“Of course, I’ll miss all the memories I have here, Bellamy.” Aisling rolled her eyes while she continued placing her jewelry into the appropriate bags and boxes. She wouldn’t be able to wear them for playoffs the next morning and opted to put everything back into her jewelry box. “You’re really starting to sound dumb now,” she finally turned around, her arms crossed over her chest. 

Bellamy leaned back on to Aisling’s bed, bracing himself on his forearms while his eyes raked over Aisling’s figure. She didn’t shrink under his gaze and instead opted to lean back against her dresser, her arm still crossed over her chest. She’d grown up with Bellamy, she knew too much about him to ever see him as intimidating. Sure, when she had been younger she never would have wanted to overstep any boundaries with him and his authority, but now, now they were on a level playing field. Aisling had recently turned seventeen, she didn’t have to listen to Bellamy anymore.

“Oh,” he tilted his head back to laugh. Aisling tried to avert her eyes from his neck, the tan and freckled skin stretching in the most inviting way. “I’m the one who sounds dumb?” He pushed himself upright, his feet planting themselves on the plush cream carpet that covered Aisling’s floor. His elbows came to rest on his knees, and he rested his chin on his folded hands. “Enlighten me then!”

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts Aisling closed her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose. She didn't understand why Bellamy would pick the night before playoffs to start asking her the ‘deep’ questions. She really wasn't all that stressed about winning because she had a four-year scholarship secured, but she had a whole team behind her she couldn’t let down. She couldn’t let Octavia down. Octavia planned to commit to playing at Notre Dame for college, her commitment more or less depended on Arkadia’s performance in playoffs this season.

“Not everyone wants to stay home forever Bellamy!” Aisling hadn’t meant to raise her voice at the older boy, but she did. “I love Arkadia, I love all the friends I made here,” she sank down into the chair next to her dresser, “but sometimes you have to let yourself explore the world a little bit.” She felt her muscles start to tense up and tried to force herself to relax, she couldn’t be tight for the game tomorrow. “Not all of us turn down a D-One scholarship to stay home!”

“And not all of us have a rich dad or brothers who try to buy their kid’s happiness or sibling time because they’re never home to see her!” As soon as Bellamy finished speaking Aisling watched his eyes widen, his adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed. “Aisling I-”

“Save it, Bell,” Aisling stood up and grabbed a hoodie, pulling it over the tank top she had on before she also picked up her wallet and keys. She pressed the automatic start button and watched as the headlights on her ocean blue, Jeep Wrangler Sport lit up the driveway. “I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” She made sure to tuck her charger and phone into her lacrosse bag before slinging it over her shoulder. 

Bellamy stood up, his mouth opening but no words coming out, “seriously,” Aisling mumbled. “Save it for another day, Bellamy,” the door to Aisling’s bedroom closed behind her. “C’mon Moose!” He heard her call her family’s German Shepard along to follow her. Bellamy stood in the middle of Aisling’s room, alone; the carpet she had put down to cover the hardwood floors soft under his sock covered feet. He felt the guilt starting to crawl up the back of his throat, or maybe that was just the wave of nausea that had hit him already. Bellamy felt a stronger wave of nausea hit him and he quickly pushed into Aisling’s bathroom and found himself hovering over the toilet, waiting for the feeling to pass.

“Bell?” He heard his sister’s voice in the hallway and quickly pushed himself up off the floor, forcing himself to fight through the feeling that he would be sick any second. “Bellamy?” He heard Octavia call again, louder this time. He took a deep breath before stepping out into Aisling’s room again, Octavia hovering in the doorway. “What happened?” 

Octavia’s question hadn’t even registered in Bellamy’s mind before he brushed past her to get into the hallway. Aisling’s room felt suffocating all of a sudden, the scent of her perfume lingered in the air.

He could smell the coconut shampoo and conditioner she always used.

The pink sugar lotion she loved.

Icy Hot.

It was too much her, for him to handle. “Bellamy!” Octavia yelled this time. 

Like a bucket of ice-cold water had just been poured over his head; Bellamy took in a sharp breath before he turned to face his sister. “We need to find where she went!” He tried to push past Octavia who now stood in front of the staircase of the Bryne home, stopping her older brother from going anywhere in his panicked state.

“Aisling said she’d be back later,” Octavia spoke softly, like she would scare Bellamy away if she said the words any louder, “she told me to make sure we lock up the house before everyone goes to bed.”

Octavia’s words, however, didn’t register in Bellamy’s mind. All he could hear was the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat pounding in his ears and Aisling’s voice echoing in his mind.

[armymaryoongi]

Chapter three: Sakura Handkerchief

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, slightly mature, historical au; king au

warning: mentions of death/alcohol

words count: 1k+

Special appearance: Royal Swordsman Kim Taehyung

Note:  English is not my native language. (I’ve added links to the royal marriage attires if you curious to know)

(Names, places and incidents are just based on fiction)

masterlist // Ch. Four

Summary: Just like any other kids, King Min Yoongi also has his own childhood memories but his involved a mystery girl who he met once and was known as his love at the first sight. Will he gets any chance to meet her again? What will he does when he found her? Will the girl remember her too?

8 YEARS LATER

Loud thuds can be heard clearly across the King’s quarter as the two blades striking on one another fiercely. His long blonde hair was poker-straight and it flowed behind him as he sways his body, immersed with the movement of his sword. Only some of his hair is pulled back into a ponytail. His pale skin is glistening with sweats as he continuously positions himself under the blazing sun. Nothing seems different from his previous self except his height, voice, status and manners—maturity and manly.

Before his opponent can think of another strategy, he swiftly cut the air as his blade aimed the man, finishing the battle. “You are magnificent, King!” sincere praise came out smoothly from his swordsman, Kim Taehyung. The praised man unable to say anything in between catching his breath only shows off his smirk. “I would like to suggest you practise only once a week since you are already powerful in a sword battle.” Kim continuously praised his King.

The King slowly walked to the bench near his chamber and took a seat on it. “As someone who I pointed as Royal swordsman, I believe your words. Arrange the schedule and inform me as soon as possible.” He gave his sword to Kim, letting him secure it later. “I will do as you command. Let me know if you need anything regarding your sword practices.” Kim answered and bowed deeply.

“Taehyung, as my most trusted man in this palace. Please be honest with me.” Min looked up at the sky, hesitated to ask his swordsman. “Yes, anything my King.” he wiped off the sweats that threatening to fall from his forehead. Min didn’t answer him, instead, he pointed his right eyes—his scar. Kim doesn’t need clarification as he understood where this conversation will lead to. “Your queen to-be will accept you wholly, King. Unless she’s an ignorant person and fails to understand.” he assured the young King.

Yes, Yoongi has a scar that scratched from his black brow to his apple of the cheek. It happened two years ago when a big war occurred between Joseon and Shangri La caused by economic gain. As a Crown Prince who was skilful in a sword battle, he has voiced out the idea to take part in the war even though the Queen—his mother has opposed the idea, scared anything happens to Joseon’s only heir. A month of the war, news about Shangri La almost conquered Joseon had spread around the world but lucks and victory have chosen Joseon over the opponent country. Howbeit, the aftermath of war has sacrificed a thousand soldiers from Joseon, included Hyung Sun, the Head Personal Guard who wanted to devote devotion to the country. After the death of Hyung Sun, this Royal swordsman named Kim Taehyung has become the most trusted and closest person to Min Yoongi.

Sad to say, the following year, Joseon received another shocking news when their beloved King—Min Yoongi’s father passed away after six months fallen sick. With advice from ministers, Yoongi must take over the throne even though he is an unwed man. According to the rules, someone with a scar cannot be the King to the country but it cannot be applied in Yoongi’s affair. The scar on his face is a symbol of his loyalty and dedication to Joseon. Hence, the entire country agreed to pass down the throne to him.

Killing two birds with one stone; Yoongi is in his mother’s chamber to visit and has a discussion. He is well aware of himself—the King need a companion, a queen and a wife beside him to rule the country. Currently, he is proposing the idea to wed a princess as he is not young anymore for the palace to hold the selection of Crown Princess as they did when he was a little child. “I agree with you, child. Besides, I don’t want to repeat that history.” the Queen Dowager glared at his son as she reminds him. Yet, she only received a soft chuckle from the young King.

“Mother, as you just said, that happened when I was a little child, too young to understand about palace rules. Now, I’m the King and I need someone that not only can rule this country with me but to share life, emotions and problems together for eternal.” he pressed his lips into a thin smile. His cheeks became rosy as he felt shy to utter these words to his mother. The Queen Dowager said nothing as she felt relieved when she listened to his son. Evidently, Min Yoongi has improved himself these previous years by through learning day by day. She’s confident that Yoongi will be another good king just like his late husband.

The news about the Royal Marriage has been announced to the folks and they are happy for the King and excited for the next Queen. They have hung lanterns and decorations along the streets and market to celebrate the exciting week while the fireworks will take place later at midnight. The palace guards have light up the torch fire to brighten the mood around the palace. Whereas the court ladies have decorated the Royal banquet hall, King and Queen’s quarters and tidy up the bridal’s chamber.

The Sakura handkerchief he bought eight years ago is in his hand. The base is pure white but its colour has faded a bit. Nevertheless, the pink colour of embroidery still stays radiant like before. Yoongi caressed the handkerchief as it is his lover. It feels nostalgic, how strong the memory has stayed in his mind even though he had tried to vanish it. Without he notices, the corner of his lips lifted as he rewinds the memory. The soft thud came from the door, startled him who is standing by the window. “Your Highness, I am here.” Kim alerted his King. The soft chuckle succeeds to escape from his mouth. “Drop the formality, Taehyung. We shall have a drink like friends.” he walked pass Taehyung to keep the dear handkerchief in the chest. Only tea is being served for tonight, no alcohol as tomorrow is the King and Queen’s marriage. The Queen to-be has arrived at the palace this evening and the King being a shy man, avoided from walking out from his throne hall as he doesn’t want to collide with her.

“Aren’t you nervous?” Taehyung asked Yoongi as he pouring the hot tea into the small teacups, started the conversation. Yoongi who chose to stay quiet just nodded his head. “I know you still can’t forget that person but make some room for your queen. She deserves it.” a reminder left out his mouth as he wants the best for the King and the Queen. “Of course I will. She will soon be the mother to our—” Yoongi abruptly shut his mouth as the realisation hit him. His tip of ears becomes red as he’s burning with embarrassment.

Ha! I knew it. You already think about—” now it’s Taehyung’s turn to shut his mouth as he realised with who he is speaking now. “Please punish this commoner for being rude to you.” he quickly stand up before knelt down in front of Yoongi. The King said nothing but laughed out loud. His swordsman looked at him with widen eyes, frightening with the sudden change of atmosphere. 

“Since this is not liquor for us to drink until blackout, let’s drink until our stomach bloated!” Yoongi and Taehyung clinked their cups against one another to celebrate the night. It’s been a while since the King behave like this. Perhaps, he is now on the cloud nine as he finally will tie a knot with a Princess Y/n from Daeshin, a kingdom not to far from Joseon.

The next day, the streets crowded with the villagers from distinct class and status, wearing various colours of hanbok—from dark to bright colour. The upper class dress up elegantly while the commoners dress up nicely. The villagers are now on their way to the palace as they will gather at the throne hall to witness the Royal ceremony as well as celebrate the glorious newlyweds. The striking red hwarot is now on your body. The hwagwan and royal binyeo are placed on the gold tray, waiting to be placed at the front of your head and in your hair. Your body is moving slightly as the court lady is shaping your braided hair into a bun. Your chamber becomes as quiet as a mouse, only the rustles can be heard as you keep smoothing the front fabric of your hwarot.

“The Queen Dowager is here!” announced the court lady who is guarding the door. As the Queen Dowager entered your chamber, you tried to soar but she quickly asked you to remain at your place. “Are you doing good, princess Y/n?” she looks at you through the reflection of the mirror. The court lady named Yeon is carefully sticking in the binyeo to secure your bun hair from unravelling. You giggled softly, cover your mouth with the back of your smooth hand. “Your majesty, thank you for asking. I am quite nervous since I never expose myself to the public.” Truthfully, it is prohibited for maiden moreover the princesses of the kingdom to appear in the public of eyes. The Queen Dowager tried to soothe your feelings by telling you that the ceremony will run smoothly until the night where King Min and you will spend the night together. Her words made you feel shudder as a chill runs down your spine. You just smile at her words and your face started to heat up as you nervously thinking of tonight.

[pocket-luv101]

Happiness || Chapter 9

Fandom: Servamp Characters: Mahiru, Kuro, Licht, Hyde Pairings: KuroMahi (main), LawLicht (side)

Summary: Mahiru found a baby in front of his orphanage and he thought that it belonged to Kuro. But the infant could be the key to finding his lost mother. {Historical Romance// Family AU}

Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6 || Ch.7 || Ch.8 || (Ch.9) ||

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Hyde. Your plan can endanger Machi and a loud party will only make her feel uneasy. She’s not comfortable around new people.” Mahiru said after Hyde suggested they use a party to gather information. There was also a chance they could meet the man who attempted to take Machi a few days earlier. “Maybe a simple tea party would be better.”

“From experience, the best place to gather information is a large party. People’s lips become loose with alcohol and dancing.” Hyde told him. “We can throw the party at the Alicein’s inn since they have a large ballroom. The inn is in the countryside but the Servamp name will be enough to draw to make people travel here. If you’re worried about Machi, we won’t introduce her formally.”

Mahiru had never attended a formal party or dance so he didn’t know what to expect. Machi looked up at him with a trusting smile and he recalled how tense she was when he first found her. He wanted to protect her so she would never have to be alone again. He turned to Kuro and asked, “Must we take Machi to this party? I can stay home to watch her. I’ll be out of place at the party anyways.”

“Licht and I will be busy searching for that man. We need your help to gather information and look for people who already know about Machi. We both know that Kuro is hopeless in a conversation. You’re not a nobleman like us but you should be able to blend in well.” Hyde reasoned but Mahiru’s concerned expression never left his face.

As if Machi could sense how tense Mahiru was, she tugged lightly on his shirt so he would look down at her. The three couldn’t understand her as she babbled but he nodded along with her. She sat on his knees and leaned forward towards the table. Kuro didn’t know what she wanted but he grabbed a random spoon for her to play with. Then, she held out the spoon to Mahiru.

“Thank you, Machi, but it’s not dinner time yet. You can play with it though.” He said and fondly patted her brown hair. Machi nodded and began to chew on the silver spoon. Kuro watched the two interact and he thought of the carefree smile his siblings had. Once they entered high society, they didn’t smile as brightly. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to Mahiru and Machi.

“I don’t think we should throw Mahiru and Machi into the den of wolves. You know how they can be, Hyde.” Kuro had been quiet throughout most of the discussion because he didn’t know what they should do. He was all too aware of the ton could be. They would be quick to gossip the moment they saw Mahiru at the ball. It would be easy to find information throughout the party. Yet, he didn’t want Mahiru to be forced to endure their stares and judgement. “Lily will be there and he can help us.”

“We need to be careful that this doesn’t turn into a scandal. Once people start gossiping about Machi, it’ll be difficult to find the truth among the rumours. I had to go through fifty stories after my mother disappeared.” Hyde relented. “I’ll send out the invitations tomorrow. There are a few gentlemen I would like to speak with again. If rumours are to be believed, she ran away with all of them.”

“I’ll talk to Misono about borrowing his inn for our little plan.” Mahiru wanted to do more to help Kuro. He wasn’t familiar with the world Kuro grew up in so he wouldn’t know what to do at the formal party. A simple countryman would likely embarrass a duke. He pushed those thoughts aside and looked down at Machi. “It looks like we’ll be spending Friday night alone. What do you want to do, Machi?”

The baby couldn’t reply to him but Kuro said, “I wish I could skip the party and stay home with you two. You’re much better company than those people with fake smiles. I moved here to avoid formal balls and wearing stuffy clothes. I think I’ve forgotten how to be a duke after so long. Not that I was any good at that to begin with. Troublesome.”

Hyde nodded solemnly. “I like parties but these balls are terrible. No one goes to a ball for wine or dancing. Everyone has an ulterior motive so it’s impossible to enjoy yourself there. The moment someone asks me to dance, I know it’s my family name they’re after.”

“It must be complicated.” Mahiru looked between the brothers. The kindness in his brown eyes tugged at Kuro’s heart and he wished he would be at the party. No matter what kind of situation they found themselves in, he felt more confident with Mahiru by his side. He was certain the party would be more fun with him as well.

“That tree looks like it’ll be the perfect fit for the inn.” Mahiru said and Kuro followed the direction he pointed to. Misono agreed to let them use his inn for the party but he asked for a Christmas tree in exchange. The inn would put up a large tree in their ballroom but Misono was too busy to search for a tree. Mahiru was more than happy to help his friend.

Kuro lightly pulled on the horse’s reins to stop the sled. He stepped out and then held up his hand to help Mahiru down from the sled. The snow was slippery but Kuro helped him keep his balance. He wanted to continue to hold his hand but he let him go. “We brought the sled to carry a tree back to the inn but I don’t know how we’ll be able to place it inside.”

“It’ll be troublesome to drive back into town to get Hyde or Tetsu to help us. The sled can’t carry a lot of people either.” Kuro said and he tilted his head back to see the tip of the tree. He measured the tree’s height with his eyes and thought of how they can move it into the sled after they cut it down. Since Mahiru was carrying Machi in his arms, he couldn’t help him much. “I think I can move it on my own.”

“Are you sure? You’re strong but I don’t want you to be hurt by moving this thing on your own. There must be a way to put the tree in the sled together.” Mahiru stood next to the tree and placed his hand on the bark. He considered finding a smaller tree that would be easier to move. The children loved decorating the tree so they would be disappointed if they brought back a short one.

He looked down at Machi who was biting on a teething ring. Mahiru carried her in a baby sling but the tree branches could accidentally hit her if he picked up the tree. She was still young so he couldn’t put her down. He adjusted her hat over her head and she looked up at him with a wide smile. “What do you think we should do, Machi?”

“Boo!” She patted her hat and then pulled it down over her eyes. Quickly, she pushed it back up and repeated the word. She found the simple game of peekaboo immensely entertaining and laughed. Kuro chuckled too and fixed the hat back into place. She turned her head to observe the world around her with curious eyes. They would take Machi with them to the market but this was the first time she saw trees.

She appeared fascinated by the tall trees and stretched out her tiny hands towards the tip as if she could reach them. Mahiru wrapped his hands around her smaller one and gently swung them. “It looks like she wants this tree as well. She doesn’t know about Christmas yet but I’m sure she’ll love the holiday. There will be beautiful decorations and presents, Machi.”

“Licht gets twice the amount of presents because his birthday is on Christmas Eve. Will you be planning the party this year?” He asked and Mahiru nodded. Kuro missed spending the holidays with him after he left him. “This year will likely be busy because we have to take care of this little girl. Do you need help decorating the orphanage for the party?”

“The kids will help me.” Mahiru reassured him. He thought back to the first Christmas he spent without Kuro. Even though he was surrounded by people at a party, he felt lonely. He wanted to spend the night wrapped in Kuro’s arms under the covers. Instead, he fell asleep by himself. He forced the memory from his mind and forced a smile onto his face. “Would you and Machi like to come over and eat Christmas cookies with us?”

“I can never say no to your cookies. A party with you and the children will be more fun than the ball Hyde is planning.” Kuro smiled at him and the sight caused Mahiru’s heart to race slightly. He was happy that he accepted the invitation but he reminded himself that he couldn’t become too hopeful. Mahiru didn’t know why Kuro left him but he couldn’t endure another heartbreak. He looked down at Machi and changed the topic.

“Licht’s birthday is soon. I wonder when Machi’s birthday is so I can bake a cake for her.” Mahiru tickled her cheek but then another thought made him pause. He was picturing a future where he would help Kuro raise Machi but he knew he shouldn’t. He offered to help him take care of the baby while they searched for his mother. Would they return to their separate lives in the future?

Mahiru shook the thought from his mind and turned back to the tree. “We should cut down this tree and hurry home. I don’t want Machi to be out in the snow for a long time or else she’ll get sick. We can move the tree into the sled quickly if we work together. I’ll cover Machi with her blanket and that will protect her from the branches.”

He started to arrange Machi’s blanket around her but then he noticed Kuro take off his jacket. He draped it over Mahiru’s shoulder and the fabric fell over Machi. Kuro placed his hand over her head and said, “She’ll be cold without the blanket so we can use my cloak. I’ll get the ax from the sled and cut down the tree. You should stand behind me so you won’t be hurt.”

“Okay.” Mahiru nodded and took a step back. He felt Machi start to fuss against his chest and he lifted Kuro’s cloak. He assumed she didn’t like the darkness since she was afraid of it. Comfortingly, he stroked her hair and reassured her. “It’s okay. You don’t need to be scared of the dark since it’s just Kuro’s cloak. Doesn’t it feel warm and soft? You’re safe.”

Mahiru rubbed the cloth against Machi’s cheek so she would be familiar with it and feel comfortable. She took the fabric in her hands and studied the cloak. He thought he could see understanding enter her eyes and she hugged the cloak as if it was a blanket. His eyes softened as he watched her fall asleep with the cloak wrapped around her. He found the cloak comforting as well but it was for a very different reason than Machi. The cloak smelled like Kuro and it felt like he was holding him again.

“Mahiru, are you ready?” Kuro’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he quickly nodded. He lifted the ax to cut the tree but he looked over his shoulder to see if Mahiru was a safe distance from the tree. He began to chop at the tree truck and it fell after a few precise strikes. He couldn’t help but admire Kuro’s strength. Mahiru covered Machi’s ear so the crashing sound wouldn’t startle her.

He walked to the tip of the tree where there were less branches that could hurt Machi. He made certain that Machi was still sleeping beneath the cloak before he picked up the tree. Mahiru struggled to drag the heavy spruce to the sled. The weight eased when Kuro picked up the other end and helped him. Together, they set the Christmas tree on the sled and tied it into place.

“That was easier than I thought it would be. You should take your cloak back or else you’ll catch a cold. We both know you’ll fake being sick to get out of the party, Kuro. I’ll make hot chocolate for us when we get back home.” Mahiru took his cloak and wrapped it around his shoulder. As he jokingly chastised him, Kuro chuckled and tousled his brown hair.

“You shouldn’t lecture me when you’re the one who has snow in his hair.” Kuro brushed the snow from his hair before he pulled his hood over his head. “If you continue to act so motherly, Machi will start calling you Mama like half of the orphans do.”

“No one calls me their mother.” Mahiru protested but there was a bright blush on his cheeks. He walked around him to climb onto the sled but he found that the tree took up more space than he thought it would. He doubted they would be able to ride safely in the sled and his brows furrowed. Kuro read his thoughts and unhooked a horse from the sled.

“We can all ride Ash back into town. My horse is strong enough to carry the three of us since Machi is light. The rest of the horses are trained to follow him.” He reasoned. “I’ll hold Machi so you can climb onto the Ash first.”

“I guess we don’t have a choice but to ride Ash.” Mahiru said and stroked the horse’s muzzle.

He handed Machi to Kuro and then placed his foot on the stirrup. With a strong hand on his back, Kuro supported him as he sat on the horse’s back. He held onto Ash’s mane as he leaned down to take Machi. Kuro climbed onto the horse behind them and wrapped his arms around Mahiru to take the reins. Kuro waited until the two were safe and comfortable on the horse before he lightly kicked the horse forward.

He thought of the summer nights they would ride the horse together. Despite the time that passed, the memories were still clear in his mind. Mahiru could feel his heat against his back and a part of him wanted to lean back into his body. Kuro placed his chin on his hair and he found himself relaxing into his hold. He tilted his head back and their eyes met. “Let’s go home.”

[goldenmessenger]

The Aftermath - TS Actor AU

Summary: Roman and Remus have long since fallen asleep, nosy reporters forgotten. But there are other worried people in the wings, and it falls to Dillon (Deceit) to reassure them.

Read on Ao3 here.

A/N: Hey everyone! I have like 30 followers now, which may not be many for most people, but since I only had a few until this morning, I’m pretty excited. So thanks to everyone who followed, and I'm guessing most of you are here for my TS Actor AU! 

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, follow this link here to Ironwoman359′s awesome story set in this AU. It’s my AU, but I was having trouble finding inspiration for writing, so I commissioned Ironwoman to write a story set in it! She wrote a spectacular story called I’ve Got You Brother, and I love how it turned out! If you haven’t read it, go check it out. Both because it’s awesome, and because this one won’t make sense without it. Check out the story below the cut!

Also, I do have a taglist for this AU, so let me know if you want to be added!

Content Warnings: (Very) Vague allusions to drug abuse, past trauma, childhood abuse, tempers, revenge. 

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

Once the sound of talking stopped, Dillon carefully peeked into the living room, and smiled at the sight in front of him. Remus and Roman had both fallen asleep, Roman curled tightly into his twin’s side, head resting on Remus’s chest. Remus had his arms protectively wrapped around Roman, and was snoring slightly. The movie Roman had been watching continued to play on the screen, long forgotten. Dillon sighed in relief. This was a good sign. 

In the early days of /Sanders Sides/, most of the interviews had been like the one Remus had just had, if not worse. Usually worse. Roman hadn’t handled them very well, and neither had Remus. Usually, Roman would lock himself up in his room and refuse to come out because he didn’t want to face anyone. That would make Remus’s anxiety act up because he needed to see Roman and know that he’d be okay, so he’d try to get Roman to let him in. Then Roman would get mad and accuse Remus of being smothering, which would blow up into a huge fight and then neither of them would talk to each other for days. 

So the fact that the two of them had had a sincere conversation and were now cuddled up to each other on the couch? That showed just how far the two of them had come. Dillon was briefly overwhelmed with pride for his boys. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the two cuddling on the couch.

Dillon picked up the remote and turned off the TV. He picked up Roman’s Disney blanket, which had fallen to the ground, and draped it over the two sleeping men. He sighed with a mix of exasperation and fondness when he saw the octopus mug on the floor, tea spilled on the carpet next to it. He shook his head at his sleeping husband. 

“You know we have a coffee table for a reason, right?” He chided quietly, though not expecting a response from the sleeping man. Though he knew that if Remus /was/ awake, he’d attempt to argue that coffee tables were a societal construct and thus unneeded. He picked Roman’s Stitch mug and spoon off of the aforementioned coffee table, and took both mugs to the kitchen. He had just put the mugs away in the cabinet when he heard his cell phone ringing. He’d forgotten about it when Roman had seen the interview, and had focused on comforting his brother-in-law. 

It occurred to him that the others had likely seen the interview (they all watched each other’s interviews live if they could. It had the dual purpose of showing support, and allowed them to know if the interview went bad), and likely wanted to make sure that everything was ok. Dillon picked up the phone.

“Salutations, Dillon.” Logan’s voice burst through the speaker. The British actor spoke with calm tones, but after knowing him for three years Dillon had learned to recognize the subtle notes of worry that laced the calm.

“Logan, hello. I’m guessing you’re calling about Remus’s interview tonight?” Dillon leaned against the counter, feeling weary.

“Yes, I am. It was mutually agreed that out of Patton, Virgil, and myself that I would be the best candidate to call at the moment.” Dillon sighed heavily.

“Let me guess, Patton and Virgil have both gotten themselves into an anxious frenzy over the interview?” Dillon could picture his younger brother and Roman’s boyfriend both sitting anxiously next to Logan as they waited with bated breath.

“Yes, they’re pretty worked up about it,” Logan admitted. “Virgil is this close to buying a plane ticket to flying out of New York City first thing tomorrow to be by his boyfriend’s side. And Patton isn’t far behind. But I convinced them that we should communicate with one of you first, and make sure that it’s needed.”

“Tell them that while the gesture is appreciated, it’s unnecessary.” Dillon reassured. “Roman and Remus are both doing fine. They talked about it, and now they’ve fallen asleep on the couch. II’s rather I’d wake them up to talk to you, but I think that they both needed the rest. You should all finish the round of interviews up there, and we’ll be fine until you return. ”

“That’s good to hear.” Logan agreed, and paused. “Patton is demanding photographic evidence of this occurrence.”

“I’ll send it once we finish talking here.”

“Splendid. Patton says to thank you for the photo in advance.” Logan paused again, listening, then spoke. “If he’s feeling up to it in the morning, however, would you mind having Roman call himself? I think both Patton and Virgil would feel a little better if they were to hear from him. If he isn’t, however, I believe hearing from Remus would suffice.” “I’ll ask as soon as they wake up.” Dillon promised.

“Good,” Logan said briefly, then there was a pause. A rather long one.

“Logan, are you still there?”

“Yes, sorry about that.” Logan apologized. “Patton has just dragged Virgil into his hotel room. I managed to convince them they both need to get some sleep, as it’s rather late here.” Dillon checked the clock, which read 11:37 pm, then did the math in his head. “Right, it’s almost 3:00 in the morning there, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be getting to bed too?” 

“Yes, you are right about that.” Logan paused, then continued. “I did want to talk to you without the two of them present.” Dillon frowned at that. 

“What about?” “You’ve been very calm through our whole conversation, which is unusual for you. Which means you’re plotting again.” “What? /Me?/” Dillon said, as innocently as he could manage. “I don’t /plot./ I do.” Logan sighed.

“You can’t get revenge on every reporter who asks a question that you don’t like.”

“It’s more than just not liking the question and you know it, Logan.” Dillon argued. “Besides, I wouldn’t call it /revenge/. I’m simply going to use my status as one of Hollywood’s A-List celebrities to get an appearance on several of Osborne’s rival shows, as well as... encouraging... my fellow stars to do the same. Maybe it won’t affect him at all, or maybe he’ll happen to get low ratings for a little bit. Maybe it’ll give him some time to think about why you shouldn’t ask invasive questions.” Logan groaned but acquiesced.

“Alright, I know I can’t stop you,” Logan conceded, “but as your friend, I’m asking you to be careful. The PR department already is going to have to do a lot of work to smooth things over after Remus stormed out. And his reaction tonight is only going to attract those who seek out drama. What I’m saying is that the last thing we need right now is a repeat of the Wine Incident from the Season Two interviews.” Dillon winced a little at that.

“You’re right, I did go too far back then.” He admitted. “But you don’t need to worry too much, Remus is calm for now, but tensions are still high. I think I’m going to have my hands full with keeping him from decking any reporters who get nosy.”

“That’s good to hear.” Logan yawned, loud and tired. Dillon smiled gently. 

“You should get to bed. I hear you have a long day of interviews tomorrow.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Logan agreed. “If you need to talk about any of this, though, I’m here for you.”

“Me?” Dillon said in surprise. “I’m fine. Roman and Remus are the ones having to deal with their painful past being dragged back into the media’s line of fire.” “Dillon.” Logan said, not unkindly. “You may not be as entangled in it all as the two of them are, but I know it affects you. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Remus is your husband, and Roman is practically your brother. And you’ve been there for /both/ of them through a lot of the harder moments. Remus often tells me that he doesn’t think he would’ve made it through college alive without you. You’re just as invested in all of this. I know that if Patton was involved in something like this, it would affect me as well.”

“You’re right,” Dillon admitted. “I shouldn’t bottle up my feelings. I’ve told Pat that enough times and I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t take my own advice. I /am/ fine right now; I’ll let you know if that changes.”

“Good. I should be off to bed. Tell Roman and Remus we called, and we’re all here for them. For /all/ of you.”

“I will.” Dillon promised, and the conversation ended.

Dillon left the kitchen and moved to the living room to check on Roman and Remus again. While he wanted to let them sleep, he knew Remus’s back would be killing him in the morning if he slept all night on the couch. When he reached the couch, he was greeted by Remus blinking sleepily up at him, Roman still sound asleep in his lap.

“Was that Shakespeare calling?” Remus asked. Dillon nodded.

“Yes, he just wanted to make sure everything was alright.” “Good, good.” Remus murmured, sinking back into the couch, looking like he was about to fall back asleep. Dillon sighed and touched him gently on the shoulder.

“You should really move to bed, love. Your back is going to hate you in the morning if you don’t.”

“Don’t wanna.” Remus grumbled stubbornly. “Besides, can’t wake the baby.” He jabbed a sleepy finger down towards Roman. Dillon shook his head fondly. 

“Alright, but don’t blame me when it hurts to stand up tomorrow.” Dillon began to move away from the couch when Remus grabbed his hand. Dillon looked back down at his husband. 

“Stay, Dee-Dee?” Remus asked softly, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Ree—” Dillon started, but Remus didn’t let him finish, swinging their interlinked arms back and forth.

“Come on Dilly, Dill Pickle, Dill Dill, Dill-man, Armo/Dillon/…”

“Are you quite done?” Dillon asked, raising his eyebrow as Remus continued, not even stopping to breathe.

“...Dilly Bear, Lil Dill, Sylvester /Dill/one, Daddy Dill, Big D...” Remus took a deep breath and continued. “Dillhemina, Dill-a-dong, Dillykins, Dilly-boo, Dill-pill, Dillarino…” He trailed off, then shrugged. “Ok, now I’m done.” Dillon shook his head, though a slow smile was forming on his face.

“Fine, I’ll stay.” Remus began to cheer softly as Dillon settled next to him, on the side that wasn’t currently occupied by a sleeping Roman. “But only because I love you.” 

“It’s ‘cause I’m so handsome.” Remus mumbled sleepily, snuggling into Dillon’s side the best he could without disturbing Roman.

“The handsomest man in the world.” Dillon agreed, wrapping his arms around both of his boys. Maybe he couldn’t stop every rude question or nasty reporter, but he could be there for them. 

At last, the house was quiet, with only the sounds of night filling the air.

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

Actor AU Taglist:

@ironwoman359

@galacticguppy

@trashpanda-remus 

@atticusfinchthelegend

@ravenclawunicorn1

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Do you know any fics that have the angstiest angst to have ever angsted BUT a good ending (I don't think I can handle anything worse than a good one) You're lovely, by the way 😊💙

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Hey boo, Do you have any recommendations for angst with a happy ending?? Thank you ! - 🤠

Hi Lovelies!!

Aww, thanks for your lovely comment, Nonny One!! Yeah, I love dying but then being happy at the end, and I can assure you I definitely have some fics for ya both!! I’ll use this opportunity to update one of my old related lists, then, since Nonny Two specifically asked for them!! I’ve a lot of new ones to add to it, anyway!

ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING Pt. 2

See also: 

Angst With a Happy Ending Pt. 1

Pining and Angst With Happy Endings Masterpost

Idiot by Anesthesiologist (T, 1,229 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Alternate TGG / Explosion, BAMF John, Sherlock Whump, Inner Monologue, John Saves Sherlock, POV Sherlock) – What the heck happened? He remembered the pool and Moriarty, but then what? Had he been dying?

Things That You Can't Say Tomorrow Day by PsychGirl (T, 4,022 w. || Post S4, POV John, Cuddling / Snuggling, Hypothermia, Snowed In, Angst, Romance) – Things go horribly wrong while John and Sherlock are on a mission for Mycroft. Now they're out in the woods in the middle of winter with no coats and no shelter. However will they stay warm?

Bitter Nights Turned Sweet by Hyliare (T, 4,076 w. || Pre-Slash, Insomnia/Hallucinations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, POV Present Tense John Watson, Cuddling/Snuggling) – Sherlock has always had trouble sleeping; he hasn't always had someone in his life willing to help.

How Will I Know? by eragon19 (E, 4,895 w. || Pining, Love Confessions, POV Sherlock, Fluff, Sherlock’s Imagination, Papa Lestrade) – Here was the problem: Sherlock Holmes was completely and irrevocably in love with John Watson, and he had absolutely no idea how to tell him.

The Refining Fire by Arwen Jade Kenobi (T, 5,451 w. || Post-TGG AU, Angst, Friendship, Alternating POV (Lestrade, Mycroft, Sherlock), Worried Sherlock, Hospital Recovery) – Fire can burn things to ashes, but it can also burn things together.

Welcome Home, John by slashscribe (G, 5,504 w. || Post-S3, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Awkwardness, Stabbed Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Panic Attack (Sherlock), Self Esteem Issues, Love Confessions, First Kiss) – When John moves back to 221B, he thinks he’s the broken one, but after a while, it becomes clear that he might not be correct.

Hide and Seek by Arwen Jade Kenobi (T, 6,934 w. || Angst, Rev. Reich-ish, Mycroft is a Dick, Depression, Case Fic-ish, Friendship, Reunion) – Pseudo sequel to "The Refining Fire." "You owe him the truth, and you owe me the proof that will convince him that I had no part in this."

Inconvenient Timing by TheMadKatter13 (M, 7,072 w. || Omegaverse || Omega John/Alpha Sherlock, Romance, Public Heat, Scared John, Protective / Worried / Possessive Sherlock, Post-TBB AU, Caring Sherlock, Pre-Slash, Happy Ending) – When John's heat failed to appear three times in a row after he was shot, he figured it was just another broken piece off the broken toy soldier. So he was rather surprised to feel it start out of the blue...and not at all pleased with it starting while he was on the tube.

A Friend Indeed by Sanru (K+, 8,190 w. || Missing John, Friendship, Drama, Introspection, Possessive Sherlock, Worried Sherlock) – Something has gone terribly wrong with a supposedly simple case. John Watson is missing. While the search for him is proving to be fruitless, it has made Sherlock realize that having an emotional attachment to someone may have its disadvantages but he liked being able to call John his friend. Now if only he could find out what happened to him...

Never Been This Swept Away by estalita11 (T, 8,531 w. || Post-TAB, Mary is Not Nice, Drug Use, First Kiss, Love Confessions) – Set immediately after TAB, Sherlock visits his brother to definitely not apologize about earlier and ends up finally learning a few things that would have been nice knowing about months ago. Mycroft never wants to deal with lovestruck idiots ever again.

Inked in Memory by 221b_hound (E, 9,716 w. || Post-HLV, Tattoos, First Kiss / Time, Anal, Cuddling, Scars, Captain John, Kissing, Switchlock) – John has been back at Baker Street for a year, following the debacle that ended in Mary's death. Things are good. Back almost to what they used to be. Sherlock might wish they were something else, now, but he only has himself to blame, he thinks. It's too late, now, for the things he first denied before he'd ruined any chances he might have had. Sherlock also thinks that people who get tattoos are idiots. But perhaps he's about to learn a thing or two, not least of which might be it's not as late as he thinks it is. Part 1 of Lock and Key

The Dying Doctor by Transcendental Starlight (T, 11,258 w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Sick John / John Whump, ACD Rewrite) – Loosely based off ACD's "The Dying Detective." Sherlock relives a case that should have killed him, but instead resulted in John being hospitalized for a deadly disease. Sherlock endeavors to catch the murderer, while attempting to envision a future without John Watson. No Slash.

I See You Through by belovedmuerto (T, 12,078 w. || Psychic AU || Empath John, Alternate TGG, Whump, Nightmares, Bedsharing, Slow Burn, Pre-Slash) –John has never asked Sherlock about his past, his childhood, the reason he quails in lonely misery almost every time he sees his brother. He’s never needed to. Part 2 of An Experiment in Empathy

A Building of Bridges by Unique (K, 12,325 w. || Drama, Alternate First Meeting, John’s PTSD / Flashbacks, Mute John, Dialogue-Heavy, Caring Sherlock, Friendship) – No one would ever send Sherlock in to diffuse a stand-off; but on one unlikely day, that's exactly what happened. "Congratulations, Lestrade," he called out sarcastically. "You're traumatizing a war veteran."

Sherlock's Head, John's Heart by Altego (T, 17,252 w. || Tragedy, Heavy Angst, Heavy Bromance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Mary is Nice, Friendship) – After Mary dies, John tries to cope, and Sherlock blames himself but tries to make John understand how important John is in his life.

Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock's body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn't as sure...

Uncharted Territory by J_Baillier (T, 19,603 w. || Dystopian Future / Black Mirror AU || Angst, Drama, Homophobia, Bisexuality, Technology, Humour, Romance, Near Future, Happy Ending) – The System puts people through a series of assigned relationships in order to determine who their Perfect Match is. John believes that it works; Sherlock really, really doesn't. One of them is probably going to be wrong.

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

The dying Doctor by marylouleach (T, 21,168 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, John Whump) – Doctor Watson is gunned down in a dark alley after work, Sherlock wont rest until he finds the man responsible. Guilt riddles him when he realizes he could have prevented this.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

Hellfire by testosterone_tea (E, 28,596 w. || Fantasy / Magic / Mages / Elementals AU || Mage Sherlock, Elemental John, Developing Relationship, Torture, Powerful / BAMF John, POV Alternating, Dark / Blood Magic, UST, First Kiss) – Sherlock is a Mage that gets involved with a case involving Dark Summoning rituals, leading him to John Watson, a man with Berserker blood. The only thing is, Berserkers have been extinct for centuries. And of course, nothing involving Mycroft and his interfering ways is ever simple. This time, even Sherlock may have bitten off more than he can chew.

To Mend Icarus by AlessNox (T, 29,186 w. || Post-TRF, Friendship, Drama, BAMF!John, Emotional Turmoil, Introspection, Harry is in this Fic, Angry John, Happy Ending, Queerplatonic Relationship) – After a case lands John Watson in court, he tells Sherlock that he is leaving. Not understanding why, Sherlock decides that the only way to learn the truth is to investigate his flatmate, Dr. John Watson. A revision of the story Mending Icarus.

The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror (E, 29,773 w. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...

Another Auld Lang Syne by DiscordantWords (M, 30,234 w. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Alternating POV, Introspection, Parentlock, Christmas, New Year’s, First Kiss, Past Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending, Drinking, Sherlock Whump) – There had been years of missed chances.

carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh (E, 34,504 w. || Post S3, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Wakes/Funerals, Estranged John, Pining Sherlock, Depression/Insecurity, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain/Injury, Reconciliation, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Scars, Angst With Happy Ending) – His fingers tremble as he dials and he can’t force them steady. Familiar number, even though he hasn’t used it in two years. He isn’t even sure he should be calling it now, but she’d asked. She’d made him promise.

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away...

Turn Left at the Park by Glenmore (NR (E), 37,409 w. || Alternate First Meeting / ASiP Divergence, Case Fic, Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Loneliness, No Mary, Possessive Sherlock, Fluff & Angst, Nightmares/PTSD, Sherlock Saves John, Sherlock Whump-ish, Doctor John) – So what would have happened if John hadn't walked through the park and met Stamford?What if, instead, he walked around the park and just went home?

Act IV by SilentAuror (E, 39,707 w. || First Person POV Sherlock, HLV Fix-It, Indifelity, Angst, Drama) – After Sherlock is shot, John moves back into Baker Street. They spend the autumn together as John tries to make sense of his life and make some important decisions about both Mary and Sherlock. Canon-compliant, excerpts from His Last Vow.

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.

In the Still of the Night by SilentAuror (E, 42,234 w. || S4 Fix It / Post-S4, Sherlock POV, Angst, Drama, Romance, Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Misunderstandings / Miscommunications, Case Fic, Travelling, Pining) – As locals on the Northeastern coast begin to report UFO sightings, life at Baker Street becomes significantly awkward as John brings up his desire for more than friendship and Sherlock refuses him. They embark on the investigation from the confines of the tiny cottage Mycroft has rented for them, attempting to navigate both the clues of the case as well as their own inability to communicate...

Sentenced by SarahKnight (T, 44,777 w. || Dev. Rel., Alternate S4 Canon, Drama, Angst, Pining, Feelings are Hard) – Virtual series 4 opener. Sherlock's in prison being targeted by a murderer, John's married to a pregnant assassin and Moriarty's back.

The Real Great Perfumers by shelleysprometheus (E, 45,355 w. || Case Fic, Alternating POV, Gay Sherlock / Bi John, Canon Compliant with Divergence at TRF, Friends to Lovers, Oral / Anal, Pining, First Kiss / Time, Dev. Rel., Drugging, Body Worship, Bathing, Love Confessions, Travelling, Bottomlock, Cranky Sherlock, BJ’s, Alternating POV, Jealous John) – The case, this case. This extraordinary, fascinating, scintillating case. A house. Designed entirely by its eccentric owner, built by no less than five hundred expert tradesmen in the heart of Marrakesh. A house that had, seemingly not only driven its owner out, but also to his quite unpleasant death. And a perfumer, a chemist no less, the very thought of the secrets that house could reveal, would reveal was irresistible. Sherlock had to have this case ... and it seems, he also had to have John! Part 1 of the Forethought and Fire series

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape, BAMF John) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of the SpaceBois go to Space series

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.

floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w. || Notting Hilll AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant -- but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn't have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

An Experiment in Empathy by belovedmuerto (T, 62,397 w. across 13 stories || Empath AU || Psychic John, Psychic-by-Proxy Sherlock, Empathy, Psychic Bond, Romance / Bromance) – In which John is an empath, Sherlock is Sherlock, and an epic bromance happens. In the aftermath of The Great Game, John creates an unexpected bond between himself and Sherlock. Now they have to learn how to deal with it. John is better at this than Sherlock is.

This Thing All Things Devours by cypress_tree (E, 63,844 w. || In Time AU || Science Fiction, Dystopian Universe, First Meetings, Action / Adventure, Romance) – In 2169, time is money—literally. Humans are genetically engineered to stop aging at 25, when the numbers on their arm start counting down from one year. When that time is up, they die. The only way to get more time is to earn it, borrow it, or steal it.John Watson lives day-to-day in the crowded slums of Zone 13. He never imagined living any differently—until he meets the practically-immortal Sherlock, and helps him on a case to track a local time-thief...

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w. || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 Series by distantstarlight (E, 96,540 w. across 31 stories || Prompt Ficlets, Assorted Kinks, PWP) – A collection in response to the 31 Days of Porn Challenge issued by AtlinMerrik! Thanks for doing that because this has been buttload of fun (that joke never gets old). All stories will be brief stand-alone one-shots.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

To Light Another's Path by BeautifulFiction (E, 128,654 w. || Post-TGG, Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction / Recreational Drug Use, First Time / Kiss, Case Fic) – Teaching John to observe seems to be a losing battle, but when Sherlock falls ill and submits himself to John's care, will he realise that there is more to life than the science of deduction? Meanwhile, there is a murder to solve, and John must try and convince Sherlock not to sacrifice his own health for the sake of the case.

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w. || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That's all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition.

[bettydice]

(Planning the Day) To Meet You

Wangxian, Modern AU, Slow Burn, E-Rated

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter 2

  Tuesday, First Day with Wei Wuxian

The books Wei Wuxian has spread out over the table are all about veterinary medicine. Lan Wangji pictures Wei Wuxian working as a vet and the image of Wei Wuxian holding up a bunny to his face makes his heart skip a beat. He wants to ask Wei Wuxian whether he’s actually studying to become a vet to confirm his daydream, but he doesn’t.

As soon as Lan Wangi closes his laptop, because it is time for lunch (and it is already later than usual because he’s been having an argument with himself about whether he should ask Wei Wuxian to join him), Wei Wuxian rushes to give him back his pen, stuffs his books haphazardly into his bag (Lan Wangji cringes) and then stands up to leave, before Lan Wangji gets the chance to say anything.

“You’re so right, Lan Zhan, it is time to go. I already stayed longer than planned. Thank you for sharing your pen and your table with me!”

Lan Wangji can only nod and watch as he leaves.

He had hoped saying “I’m going to have lunch outside” would have prompted Wei Wuxian to invite himself, but now he missed his chance to test this theory. He wonders whether he’ll ever see Wei Wuxian again.

The pen is still warm in his hand.

Lan Wangji arrives at his usual time. He tries not to expect anything. It is a rare occasion that anyone approaches his table, so waiting for the same person to appear twice is a hopeless endeavour. Yet he catches himself looking up any time he hears the slightest noise, hoping it will turn into footsteps approaching.

Foolish.

No matter how hard he tries, his concentration stays elusive today. He has to read the chapter on “Music in the Tang Dynasty: Foreign Influences” three times before it registers in his brain and by then he has forgotten what information he was looking for and has to start all over again. Maybe this is a sign that he should not include it in his paper; he should be trying to narrow down his topic anyway, not be adding more to it. “Music And Poetry of the Tang Dynasty” is indeed way too broad a topic for a 20-page research paper. So far, Lan Wangji has read 16 books and filled 35 pages with notes. And now, when he needs his brain the most, it abandons him.

Wei Wuxian arrives at 11:25 a.m. and distracts Lan Wangji from his inner struggle. Wei Wuxian seems almost surprised to see Lan Wangji and for a while he just stands and stares at him, blinking. He appears to have no books with him today.

“Lan Zhan, you’re here again! Ah, I didn’t really think you would be, haha. Well, I’m just… just wanted to say hello, I suppose.”

“Hello.”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head then, as if to clear his mind, laughs, comes closer and leans against the table, basically sitting on it. Lan Wangji has to tip his head back a little to look into Wei Wuxian’s face and it is like staring straight into the sun.

“Are you here often then?"

“Not Sunday.”

“... soooo, you’re here every day but Sunday?”

“Mn.”

“I see! How nice, Lan Zhan, you’re such a diligent student, your professors must like you a lot. You probably don’t get scolded like me, haha. Well, I suppose I’ll see you around then. Tomorrow? What day is it tomorrow? Let me think, today Wen Ning made congee for breakfast, which means it is Wednesday... okay, I will meet you tomorrow! Thursday!”

“Mn.”

Tomorrow. Wei Wuxian will meet him tomorrow. He’ll be here, because Lan Wangji is here.

Lan Wangji only sees Wei Wuxian for five minutes today, but he is in a good mood for the rest of the day.

Apparently it shows on his face, because his brother mentions it during dinner. Lan Wangji doesn’t say more except that he had a good day at the library, which is not a lie. Xichen smiles and nods in the way he does, whenever he knows that Wangji isn’t telling him everything, but he won’t push. He never pushes.

Only when he is lying in bed, almost falling asleep, does a tiny, niggling worry appear at the back of his mind. Who is Wen Ning? Why is he cooking for Wei Wuxian? Friend? Flatmate? Cousin? Boyfriend? He is glad that Wei Wuxian gets proper meals one way or another and is not just simply eating prawn chips all day. But…

Maybe Xichen is right. Maybe his life is boring and lonely after all if his thoughts are so easily taken over by a stranger, simply because they keep smiling at him.

Thursday, Third Day with Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian shows up at 10:30 a.m. Today, he brought books but this time, as far as Lan Wangji can tell, they’re mostly about Hong Kong Cinema. Alright. Interesting.

Lan Wangji cannot muster the nerve to ask him whether he wants to have lunch together, but he also doesn’t want Wei Wuxian to get up and leave as soon as he closes his laptop again, so he… ignores his hungry stomach and keeps working.

Wei Wuxian leaves at 12:30 p.m. Lan Wangji thus has a very late lunch. His stomach is not happy but the rest of him is.

When he leaves the library at 4:30 p.m., someone calls his name as he walks by the lawn in front of the university. This is unprecedented. He whips his head around to see Wei Wuxian among the frolicking students, sitting next to… Nie Huaisang? He does not know what to do with the information that someone he knows also knows Wei Wuxian. At least that means that Wei Wuxian is not just a creation of his mind, but a real, wonderful person.

Wei Wuxian is wearing shorts and flip flops, and Lan Wangji’s brain insists that this is something he should take note of. He tries to argue with his brain that surely Wei Wuxian must have been wearing the same thing this morning and it hadn’t been a problem then, but his brain once again refuses to listen. Wei Wuxian has his hair in a high ponytail instead of a bun, stray hairs escaping still and his legs are crossed and bare and he looks carefree and is waving at Lan Wangji as though he’s happy to see him.

“Lan Wangji! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji slowly approaches them, sees Nie Huaisang looking from Wei Wuxian to Lan Wangji with undisguised curiosity - undoubtedly wondering how and why he calls him ‘Lan Zhan’ - and then stands next to them, giving a curt nod as a greeting.

“Nice to see you, Lan Wangji. It’s been a while.”

“Likewise, Nie Huaisang.”

“You two know each other? Huaisang, how can you know someone like Lan Zhan and not tell me? Were you keeping him to yourself? How rude, how rude! Lan Zhan, come sit down and enjoy the sun with us!”

Lan Wangji does not sit down on the grass. It is not something he does; also he’s wearing white trousers. Wei Wuxian pouts while Nie Huaisang stares at him as though he has lost his mind for asking Lan Wangji to sit with them.

Despite feeling a bit stuffy in his clothes ever since he left the air-conditioned library, he now feels a cold chill run up his spine. Unrooted anxiety squeezes his heart and he nods again, turns around and briskly leaves, ignoring Wei Wuxian’s concerned “Lan Zhan? Are you okay?” and Nie Huaisang’s “I can’t believe you know Lan Wangji, call him Lan Zhan and just asked him to sit down on the grass” . He does not hear Wei Wuxian’s reply.

Friday, Fourth Day with Wei Wuxian

Despite Lan Wangji’s worries that he hopelessly embarrassed himself yesterday, Wei Wuxian shows up again at 10:30 a.m. and does not mention anything, nor does he act any differently.

This time, he brings only one book. “Equine Anatomy”. And then he begins to… draw. Really well. Lan Wangji has given up on trying to deduce what Wei Wuxian studies. Maybe he’s not a student at all, maybe he just sneaks into the library to read books on any topic that catches his eye. Whatever the reason, he is glad that Wei Wuxian spends time here, at this table.

At 11:30 a.m. Lan Wangji loudly declares “Lunch”, closes his laptop, stands up, and stares at Wei Wuxian for almost 20 seconds until he recognizes it for the invitation it was.

Lan Wangji eats his carefully cut up and packed vegetables and fruits and drinks his green tea. Wei Wuxian eats his prawn chips and drinks a coffee that he got from the frankly sketchy looking vending machine in the foyer of the library. Lan Wangji has never seen anyone else use it and is sure that it’s more likely to give you lasting bowel issues than to provide you with a tasty beverage. Wei Wuxian takes one sip and then says “Disgusting. Just what I need right now.”

Lan Wangji learns a lot about Wei Wuxian during lunch, because now there is no “no talking in the library” to hold him back and Lan Wangji is gifted with almost twenty minutes of Uninterrupted Wei Wuxian Talking Time.

Things he learns about Wei Wuxian during these twenty minutes:

Wei Wuxian studies Computer Sciences. Lan Wangji has trouble making sense of that, after the hodgepodge of books Wei Wuxian has been reading. He has yet to see Wei Wuxian with anything resembling a computer.

Wei Wuxian is 24, just like Lan Wangji. But he’s still busy with his BA, because he had to take a break last year for reasons Lan Wangji doesn’t know yet.

Wei Wuxian moves his hands a lot when he’s talking. Lan Wangji has to move his head a few times so he doesn’t get hit in the face.

Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian know each other from school. Apparently they used to call each other the The Three Drunken Masters (they were really into Jackie Chan movies back then) and ‘Jiang Cheng’ was also a part of that. As soon as he says that name, Wei Wuxian’s face, that is always so very expressive, turns blank, as though he’s very consciously trying not to show any emotion.

Twenty minutes of Uninterrupted Wei Wuxian Talking Time is not enough.

Saturday, Wei Wuxian-less

Wei Wuxian does not come to the library on the weekend. He had told Lan Wangji this. Lan Wangji still finds himself disappointed.

He spends a lot of time not thinking about his paper and instead thinking about Monday.

Sunday, Wei Wuxian-less

It is a Sunday and Lan Wangji’s inner peace is in serious trouble. No matter what he does, all his thoughts are drawn to Wei Wuxian. It is as though Wei Wuxian visited his flat while he was asleep and left his traces everywhere. Sweetness that lingers in the air and enters his mind with every breath.

While he makes breakfast, he wonders how Wei Wuxian might eat his. Does he eat breakfast at all or does he skip it? Does he eat congee every day or only when ‘Wen Ning’ makes it for him? Perhaps he’s the type to only drink coffee. He frowns at the thought. Lan Wangji does not have a coffee maker. Maybe it is time to buy one. Then he frowns again when he realises what he is doing here. There is no reason to assume that Wei Wuxian would ever share breakfast with him, especially not here, in his flat.

He decides to distract himself with reading and grabs the first book that catches his eye. It turns out to be a collection of love poetry that Nie Huaisang had given him once because “I would never dare to give you porn, so this is the next best thing”. Lan Wangji had long given up on understanding Huaisang’s logic and just accepted the gift instead of arguing.

He reads the first few poems with burning ears and realises quickly that this is… not the euphemism-heavy fare he’s expected. The verses are brimming with melancholy and speak of separation and longing. Of lovers that parted, lovers that never were.

Not… a good distraction.

He slams the book shut, forgets all about good posture and lets himself fall against the back of his couch, basically slouching, and stares at the ceiling.

Frustration mounts in him that apparently he has built his peace and happiness on such a fragile foundation that everything collapses as soon as he is slightly shaken.

Wei Wuxian hasn’t even done anything. All he did was sit down at his table, talk and smile, instead of turning around and walking away at the first sight of Lan Wangji’s frown. Has he really been lonely all this time and is now retroactively having a crisis about it, because he was finally made aware of it?

He’s always been aware of the fact that there’s one corner of his heart that has been cold and deserted ever since his mother died. No matter how much warmth he’d found in his brother’s smile, in a soft bunny paw on his hand, in bringing order to the chaos of history… It had never reached this furthest corner of his heart.

How could it be possible that he’d find it in this stranger from the library?

Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian. Wei Ying. Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji goes to the gym and tries to outrun his thoughts on the treadmill. He mostly succeeds.

Monday, Fifth Day with Wei Ying

Lan Wangji wakes up with a hard cock and an itchy heart. A dream, there was a dream… he tries to recall, but the morning sun chases all remains of the night away and the dream dissipates with them.

He decides to postpone his morning exercise until the evening and takes a shower to take care of himself. Even in this, Lan Wangji has a routine, knows how to satisfy himself in five minutes or less.

He takes himself in hand and quickly strokes himself to hardness, focusing on how he feels , instead of getting lost in specific images or fantasies.

Except this time, it’s not enough. His heart still itches with… something. He grips his cock harder, lavishes extra attention on the sensitive head, twists his hand on every other upstroke… There’s still something missing.

Then, a thought. “What if it was someone else’s hand.”

Then. “What if it was Wei Wuxian’s hand.”

Then. “What if Wei Ying was with me in the shower.”

Ah, he can imagine it so well, so easily.

Wei Ying naked, pressed against Lan Wangji’s back, his arms holding him, one hand splayed over his chest, one hand stroking his cock. He’d be just tall enough to whisper into Lan Wangji’s ear, breath hot against his skin.

“Mhm, Lan Zhan, look at you. So hard in my hand… you’re already close and we’ve barely just begun. So impatient. Lan Zhan, pretty Lan Zhan, this is all just for me, isn’t it?”

“Only for Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying strokes him faster, teasingly dips a finger into his slit and then squeezes, just how he likes it. Hot pleasure travels up his spine, coils deep in his stomach. Lan Wangji lets Wei Ying take over, lets him do whatever he wants.

He feels Wei Ying press kisses against his shoulder, his fingers playing with his cock as freely as with his pen.

It feels so good, Wei Ying feels so good and he wants…

Lan Wangji has Wei Ying pressed against the wall and he’s kissing him, kissing his lips, his neck, that collarbone and Wei Ying is laughing, loud and carefree and…

Lan Wangji comes so hard that he slips and only barely avoids falling and suffering a head injury that would be really difficult to explain.

Pressing his head against the cool tiles, he closes his eyes and breathes hard until he comes back to himself.

He cleans himself (and also has to clean the shower door, he’s embarrassed to notice), finishes his bathroom routine, gets dressed and then stares at himself in the mirror.

Fuck.

His heart is not itchy anymore but now it’s filled with dread. He feels as though… It’s not guilt, not exactly but he feels as though he has crossed boundaries that he only realised existed, once he’s looking back. It is one thing to fantasize about someone he finds attractive… but Lan Wangji went beyond that, didn’t he? He put words into Wei Wuxian’s mouth, words he’d never say but that he wants to hear and…

It is not a thing he can ask permission for, the thought alone makes him anxious… “Wei Wuxian, I would like to pleasure myself to thoughts of you and in my fantasies you talk a lot and you’re my boyfriend because casual sex is not appealing to me. Do I have your approval? Also, what do you eat for breakfast, I really want to know.”

No.

He wants to stay home today and hide under his blanket, because he’s sure that people will look at his face and know.

However, his wish to see Wei Ying… Wei Wuxian … is larger than his not-quite-guilt.

If Wei Wuxian was successful in reading his face and now knows his indecent shower secrets, he does not mention it. They spend their time at the library as usual. Lan Wangji marvels at this thought - now it is their time and they have a rhythm . (Wei Wuxian’s choice of reading today is: Artificial Intelligence. The first thing that could actually have something to do with Computer Sciences. No computer in sight yet.)

He tries to not think about this morning and hopes he’s able to find a good medium between Not Looking At Wei Wuxian Because He’ll Know and Looking At Wei Wuxian A Lot Because He Is Beautiful.

When Wei Wuxian leaves shortly after lunch, he feels exhausted. Lan Wangji never takes naps, Lans do not nap (one of Lan Qiren’s weirder rules, he’d been very strict about it nonetheless) but he could really use one right now.

Fuck.

Fuck.

[fifiliphaser]

Don’t Give Me Flannel (Cherik Ficlet)

[AO3 Version]

“You’re my roommate who’s super cute and it’s the middle of the night and you’re cramming for your exams in your flannel pajamas and disheveled hair and it’s becoming increasingly hard for me not to kiss you” AU

So, yeah, here we are. It was supposed to be a shorter one-shot, around 1,000 words or so, but I sort of took that prompt and ran with it, because apparently I cannot write something without any world-building in it. But it was a pure pleasure to write, even if I should've been working on my other WIPs. *sigh*

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this short—yet still somehow almost four times longer than intended—ficlet.

It's not beta-ed, just edited and proofread by myself, so you know the drill—and I'll be really grateful for any valuable remarks!

“Can you finally go to bed?”

Although Erik’s voice is hoarse, his annoyance seeps through very clearly. As a result, the question sounds more like an order, despite it not really being Erik’s intention. Nonetheless, he’s too groggy to care.

Generally, Erik Lehnsherr has always prided himself in being quite a heavy sleeper, capable of sleeping through anything and everything ever since he remembers. Even when he was just a few years old, he would occasionally wake up to hear about the storm roaring through the night, which did little to disrupt his sleep. His mother used to joke that the bomb blowing up nearby wouldn’t manage to jolt him awake. The manifestation of his powers in the early teenage years disrupted his routine for a while, but he managed to go back to it by the time he started university, and this time he hasn’t let anything get in the way of getting a healthy amount of sleep.

Willing himself to fall asleep has never been problematic either, even with a lot of background noise. Unfortunately, it seems like the light is his ultimate weakness. He’s been struggling to doze off for quite a while now, but a small lamp still kept alight turns it into a truly challenging feat. Facing the wall that his bed was pushed to, his eyes closed shut, he’s desperately trying to force his mind to finally shut down, having already given a shot to counting sheep and focusing on his breathing. Sadly, without the comforting darkness to drown out any unwanted late-night thoughts, he is unable to succumb to sleep. The worst thing is, he’s slowly growing more and more desperate and the thought to just ask Charles—the very culprit behind his current predicament—to do this for him keeps lingering at the forefront of his mind.

A quiet groan escapes his lips as Erik turns around, towards the rustle of paper behind him. Charles Xavier, his roommate, the fellow student who also happens to be a mutant, is sitting on the carpet between their two beds, surrounded by an array of textbooks and notes. He is, by far, one of the very few people whom Erik tolerates and who somehow tolerate him in return, which is still somewhat unbelievable to Erik—how such a person as Charles, so unbearably idealistic and impossibly kind, would like to as much as simply be in his presence continues to escape his comprehension.

Nevertheless, here they are, Charles spread on the floor and Erik failing to fall asleep. Overall, Charles is quite a nice roommate, certainly much better than the previous ones that Erik was unlucky to live with. (Or maybe it was them who were unlucky enough to cross his path, Erik wonders sometimes.) Although a chatter, Charles doesn’t bother with meaningless conversations and he has a quick wit, which is even more prominent over the chessboard that they sometimes use to play, all of which make him a pleasant enough companion even on the worst of days. His bright big eyes, with their remarkable blueness only accentuated by the flannel pajamas he is currently wearing and with his floppy hair falling over them, make him look rather appealing, as a quite impressive group of both male and female students can corroborate. Despite that, Charles’s favourable looks are no more than a pleasant addition, or so Erik tries to convince himself of.

He cuts that train of thought short, though. They are friends, even though this label hardly conveys the depth of their bond. Charles may be the closest person Erik has ever been to, other than his parents, which makes him just about the only family Erik has left. To ruin the most meaningful friendship in Erik’s life due to his irrational sexual urges is just unthinkable. So he proceeds to do what he’s been doing for weeks now, burying the budding attraction deep enough that the telepath won’t see it.

“I can’t fall asleep with the light on,” he grumbles, seeing that Charles has hardly reacted to his previous question. When that doesn’t work either, Erik continues, his brows furrowing, “I have an exam tomorrow, too, you know.”

Charles finally looks up at him, and his eyes are sparkling in the warm light of his bedside lamp, his liveliness evident despite the dark circles under them. Erik shouldn’t find that sight so endearing, and yet, he’s mesmerised all the same, almost forgetting his own annoyance.

“Yeah, sorry,” Charles says apologetically, gazing down at the notebook he’s just been leafing through. His lips, even redder than usual, what with the way Charles continues to chew at them, curl into a little self-deprecating smile. Erik can’t help but trace their movements when his friend adds, “Just… five more minutes.”

It’s clear how tired Charles is, leaning on his hand which is perched up on his lap and visibly fighting off the urge to let his head drop on his notes. Erik rolls his eyes, irritated with Charles’s insistence even more so now that he sees his exhaustion. It may even explain why Erik’s own tiredness feels so profound; if Charles is on the verge of falling asleep, his shields are prone to get weaker and sometimes he starts projecting his feelings, as if his mind was trying to get rid of the sense of fatigue simply by pushing it away.

In truth, Erik doesn’t mind it as much as he thought he would. He minds feeling more tired than he actually is, that is, but not the mental contact itself. It never fails to surprise him, how much he actually enjoys having someone brushing against his thoughts. Of course, he believes that all mutants should be treated equally, regardless of the nature of their mutation; and yet, telepaths are often facing quite a lot of resentment, even within the mutant community itself. For many, it is one thing to pass someone with a tail or a pair of wings on the street without batting an eye, and something else entirely to have a stranger overhear your thoughts—something intimate and meant to exist only for you to listen.

Erik can understand where such reservations might come from, even though he himself doesn’t view telepathy as so problematic. In fact, the anti-psionic bias seems to be chiefly the product of ignorance—there aren’t that many telepaths, most of whom not even powerful enough to fully enter someone’s mind without touching that person or at least being in a very close proximity to them, but people nevertheless are afraid of feeling so exposed, with more than unfavourable portrayal of telepathy in the media as manipulative and exploitative only feeding their fear.

Not that telepaths are actually interested in reading or controlling everyone’s minds; the fact that is obvious to anyone who has actually met a telepath. It would be exhausting, after all, to listen closely to every thought that comes your way. Not even mentioning the fact that a lot of people think they’re incredibly interesting and worthy of attention, while, in actuality, their thoughts are mundane and their secrets nonsignificant.

Erik has crossed paths with enough telepaths to know that. Besides, if telepaths truly did always listen to one’s every thought, Charles would already bloody well know how annoyed Erik has been for quite a while now.

“You’ve been cramming it for—” Erik reaches out with his power, tugging at the magnetic lines surrounding him, and feels the hands of Charles’s watch which is still wrapped around his wrist.

The soft hum of its metal is pleasantly familiar. Charles takes it off only to sleep, and its constant presence allows Erik to sense him, even if his friend is out of sight. It never ceases to surprise Erik how comforting he finds it, the possibility to feel Charles’s warm skin against the stainless steel of the watch anytime he wishes, wherever he is.

Erik reads the hour and groans resignedly, “—for six hours straight. You know everything that you need already.”

“I have to ace it,” Charles mutters, his gaze fixed back on his notes.

He bites his lower lip, again, and it’s truly infuriating how captivating it is. Erik spends entirely too much time looking at those plush red lips of Charles’s, wondering distantly if they’re as soft as they look and if their redness would be even more intense after a thorough kiss…

It’s getting ridiculous. He shouldn’t allow himself to think such things, especially not about a telepath.

“Did you even touch the tea I made you?,” Erik demands instead, resisting the temptation to ask another question that sits at the tip of his tongue, one that is as improper as it is stupid.

A quick glance at Charles’s nightstand confirms what Erik has already suspected. The green mug with a cat and a silly chemistry pun printed on it is standing exactly where Erik put it three hours ago.

Charles looks up once again, his lips rounding in a way that is both adorable and infuriating. What’s more, the sudden movement makes his hair, ruffled from the way Charles runs his hands through them every now and then, fall down his forehead, and Erik barely battles the urge to reach out and gently brush them away.

“Oh,” Charles breathes, his wide eyes making him look like a puppy whose owner has just scolded them for something that they are absolutely guilty of. “I’m terribly sorry, my friend,” he says sheepishly, averting his gaze. “I’ve got too immersed in all of this.” His hand flies around over all the books, the sleeve of his slightly too big flannel pyjamas tumbling down his forearm and falling over his wrist.

Why Charles insists on sleeping in that atrocious thing, whose only saving grace is its nice blue colour, remains a mystery to Erik. Their dorm room is relatively warm, even in winter, and yet Charles seems to be perpetually cold at night, sleeping under a pile of blankets all year long. Erik is reluctant to admit it, but it worries him that although the summer is about to start, Charles’ nightwear hasn’t yet changed. If he’s so cold, perhaps there could be a way to warm him up a bit. Which is hardly the best line of thinking for now, because the only solutions Erik can think of involve things that he’s pretty sure Charles wouldn’t want.

A small shudder runs down his spine, and Erik has to clear his suddenly dry throat, forcing his mind to think about something else—anything else, really. He ends up recalling the details of a few cases which will most probably prove to be useful during tomorrow’s exam, trying not to wonder how it would be to wrap his arms around Charles and pull him under the covers.

Frustratingly, even repeating in his head what he already knows by heart isn’t tedious enough to put his mind to sleep.

“You can’t keep doing that.” Erik’s voice sounds annoyed even to his own ears, more so than before.

“I know, I know…,” Charles says under his breath, clearly having completely recovered from his previous mortification.

“You should’ve started earlier.” Erik’s tone might be a bit too harsh, certainly more than he intended. He can’t help himself but be frustrated, though, what with everything that watching Charles raise his hand and gently tap his fingers against his lips does to Erik’s insides.

Charles sighs, burying his face in his hands. “I know that too.” Erik can barely hear him, his voice muffled by his fingers, but he can tell that Charles must be annoyed with himself too. “Just… this isn’t half as interesting as the project I’m working on,” he explains, with an edge to his tone.

Erik rolls his eyes, though there’s hardly any malice behind the gesture. “I can believe that, but it’s getting annoying,” he says a little less sternly, despite his patience seriously dwindling.

“Sorry.” But Charles doesn’t look so sorry as he grabs one of the textbooks and opens it, back in that study mode of his.

Taking a deep breath, Erik barely refrains from raising his voice, his irritation only worsened by the worry about Charles’s awful sleeping habits. “You know all of that. Go to bed already.”

Charles’s thoughts are clearly far away from their conversation when he mumbles, “Just… let me finish—”

“Charles, you’re overtaxing yourself.” Erik’s tone is yet again harsh, though this time he can’t keep worry out of his voice.

The telepath doesn’t even respond, his whole attention at the textbook on his lap. Despite his immersion in the text, Charles’s head continues to be drooping, his back leaning heavily on the frame of his bed, and Erik doesn’t know what to do anymore to make this man finally get some sleep.

It’s still somewhat bewildering to him, to care for another person’s well-being so much that he starts completely brushing aside his own. It’s not like he is uncaring, but ever since his parents passed away Erik hasn’t allowed himself to get too close to other people. His wounds haven’t properly healed yet, and the thought of losing anyone else is so unbearable that he’d rather isolate himself than face the prospect of going through that again. Yet, he finds himself growing more and more fond of Charles with every passing day.

Although everyone seems to love Charles—that goes without question—Erik isn’t like everyone and a creature of very little trust, so he can’t be easily swayed into liking someone, even if confronted with the smoothest of flattery. But Charles isn’t like anyone else either and hardly an overconfident and snobbish smooth talker that Erik thought he was upon their first meeting. It took more than a couple of heated discussions during quite a few classes and the mutant rights club meetings and one memorable party, however, for Erik to start appreciating Charles’s seemingly endless enthusiasm, his infuriating idealism and the admirable faithfulness to his own ideals, and, most of all, his unconditional kindness. 

As a cynic and a firm believer in the need for separation between baseline humans and mutants, Erik naturally would never agree with Charles’s integrationist ideas, though deep down he has to begrudgingly admit that such an approach might be beneficial in some instances. Besides, it’s not his fault, really, that Erik can’t resist that warm laughter, the playful quirk of that red mouth, and the mischievous glint in those hauntingly blue eyes. If he didn’t know much about telepathy, he’d think that this endearing charm is just a trick, but he knows better. Charles really happens to be just as charming, as if having the magnetic personality of an opposite pole, whose call is quite hard for Erik to resist.

Which doesn’t make Charles’s late-night study sessions any less irritating.

Erik must do something to make Charles finally go to sleep, and if the Charles way of talking and negotiating doesn’t work, it’s time for the Erik way. He slips from under the covers and jumps to the floor.

“Erik, give it back!,” Charles shrieks the second Erik snatches the book away from his hands, though his protests are much weaker than usual.

“I need sleep and so do you,” Erik says stubbornly, hugging the book to his chest. “So, just put it all away, or I’ll do that for you.”

Charles looks at him for a long moment, the exasperation in his expression mixed with something else, something odd. There’s a heaviness to his gaze that makes Erik shift minutely, slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of those brilliant eyes.

“You’re insufferable sometimes,” Charles says eventually, although he doesn’t sound resigned, only mildly amused.

“You’re the one to talk,” Erik snaps back, albeit good-naturedly.

Signing once again, Charles just shakes his head, a small smile creeping on his lips. Then, he fixes Erik with a stern gaze.

“I’ll go to sleep when I finish this chapter,” he says seriously, and the determination that is colouring his eyes suggests that he won’t step down this time.

Erik purses his lips and regards him for a moment, contemplating the offer. The chances for negotiating conditions more favourable for Erik are scarce, and now is not a good time to pick up a fight. It seems best to relent.

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it,” Erik decides, slowly releasing the book from his grasp.

Charles quickly goes to grab it before he can even let go of it, the telepath’s fingers brushing against Erik’s forearms and leaving a trail of the pleasant tingling sensation behind. Erik can’t help but sit here transfixed, the plush carpet soft against the bare skin of his shins, as Charles goes back to studying. There’s something enthralling in watching him in his element—because as exhausted as Charles is, there’s still so much passion in the way he’s practically devouring what is written on the pages before him. His eyes are alight again, and his lips are moving—lightly, captivatingly—as he’s quietly repeating the crucial tidbits of information.

Erik has never wanted to kiss someone so much in his entire life.

Although the book is once again laying open on his lap and stealing all his attention, Charles looks up from it, apparently having noticed Erik’s dumbfounded expression. “You can go back to bed now,” he points out lightly, his brows drawn in mild confusion.

“Not until I tuck you in first,” Erik responds before he has time to think much about his words.

He doesn’t even get a chance to start feeling self-conscious, however, as Charles is seemingly taking it all in stride. “That won’t be necessary, my friend,” he says, giving Erik an amused look, the corner of his lips—so distractingly red—rising in a half smile, and Erik finds it hard not to stare at them.

Instead, he narrows his eyes. “We’ll see.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Charles snorts and glances down at the book, his fingers finding their way back to his mouth.

The tip of his thumb begins to slowly trace the outline of his lower lip, back and forth, drawing all of Erik’s attention to that one delicate motion. He cannot help but be hypnotised, wishing against his better judgement that he could reach out and replace Charles’s fingers with his own. To map those lips with his touch, to explore the softness against his fingertips…

Erik looks up abruptly, his eyes boring in the ceiling. Breathing out, he almost groans, but refrains from doing so not to distract Charles. It’s really of no use, allowing himself for such mental escapades. This absurd infatuation has already made Erik’s life miserable enough, there is really no need to add fuel to the flames.

Except, he finds himself unable to stop. Everytime he sees Charles, hears his warm laughter, feels his fingers brushing against his own arm, is confronted with a clever and spot-on counterargument during their arguments, or witnesses a particularly cunning move during the game of chess, Erik can’t stop his mind from being consumed yet again by the thoughts of his best friend. It’s truly a miracle that Charles hasn’t picked up on those thoughts yet, and for once Erik is grateful for Charles’s strict moral code.

Nonetheless, Erik knows he has to put an end to it. It’s just a silly crush, after all, nothing worth putting their friendship on the line. No more foolishness from now on—he’ll just focus on getting through his studies, pushing all the other matters aside.

After some time, which seems to have stretched from mere minutes to long hours, Erik abruptly hears Charles close the book. He drops his gaze in time to see his friend put it down and then proceed to gather all the rest of the study materials into a pile.

“Okay, I’ve finished, happy?,” Charles says, pushing the pile closer to his bed. “You can tuck me in now.” He looks up and momentarily furrows his eyebrows. “Erik?”

Somehow, the earnest look of those beautifully blue eyes makes Erik’s resolve snap. So much for an end to all the silliness. Before he can stop his traitorous lips from moving, the question is already leaving his mouth, the one he’s been longing to ask for so long.

“Can I kiss you?”

There’s a moment of stunned silence, as Charles’s eyebrows slowly rise, disappearing underneath his dishevelled hair. He’s still for what feels like an eternity, and Erik can feel the tendrils of the telepath’s thoughts retreating from his mind, folding in on themselves, which can’t possibly bode well.

Panic begins to rise in Erik’s chest. With his breath quickening, he does his best to slip on a mask of indifference over his face, hoping against hope that Charles hasn’t seen anything damning in his mind, especially not any of those lewd thoughts he’s been having lately. But before dread can consume his mind like a wildfire, Erik sees Charles’s expression soften and then the telepath is leaning in, stopping only when his face is a few mere inches from Erik’s.

He’s so close that Erik nearly goes cross-eyed, Charles’s breath ghosting over his lips. Erik remains frozen, waiting for his friend’s response, anticipating and dreading it in equal measure. He sees that Charles’s eyes are flickering all over his face, filled with… Is it excitement, or rather nervousness? Regardless, his look is clearly inviting, so Erik lets himself hope that maybe his friend does want the same thing.

“Yes.”

For a second, Erik isn’t sure if he has heard it correctly. It was barely a whisper, and Charles agreeing to such a ridiculous request sounds too good to be true. It soon becomes clear, however, that Erik’s ears were not playing tricks on him when Charles gives him one last smile and leans in farther to close the distance between them.

Erik’s eyes close on their own accord, and it takes a heartbeat for their lips to meet. It doesn’t feel like a particularly world-changing moment—or maybe it does, just not in the way Erik expected. It’s not like a lighting strike, turning his world upside down and igniting a raging fire inside of him, but it rather feels as if long-lost puzzle pieces finally fell in their proper places.

Kissing Charles feels like coming home.

His lips are just so soft, pliable against Erik’s, the warmth of their gentle touch spreading through Erik’s whole body like little electric shocks. The kiss is rather chaste, close-mouthed; even so, Erik can feel the air between them slowly changing and starting to crackle with the kind of tension that has barely reached the surface before. The wave of excitement mixed with lust that swiftly encompasses his mind proves that he’s not the only one who notices it.

Erik senses something else, however, something much deeper and warmer, as his hands find their way to Charles’s face. He runs his fingertips over the expanse of smooth skin, gently stroking Charles’s cheeks, and he can feel the warmth rising there. He can’t help but smile against his friend’s lips, feeling an affectionate nudge in his mind in return.

And then Erik hears it, a soft murmur permeating his thoughts.

I thought you’d never ask.

If anyone's interested, here's the mug Erik was reffering to (I found it funny, don't at me ^^').

And I'm considering perhaps writing more in that 'verse, so if any of you has any ideas, prompts, or requests, I'll be more than happy to oblige ;)

(Generally, I have more in store for Cherik, especially after Dark Phoenix (we'll always have Paris, after all), but those works are also getting longer than expected. Still, I'm cautiously optimistic about finishing them in August.)

[what-stop-the-presses-rly-means]

Bye, Bye, Sugar Blue Eyes part 4

Race x female reader modern au

Part 1, 2, 3, x, 5, 6

Warnings: some mild swearing

A/N: I’m sorry this took forever to update, but I have parts of the next 2 chapters already done so it shouldn’t take so long in the future

——————-

So now that brings us to the present. One month in and I’m slowly and steadily becoming my role in this home. I was starting to feel somewhat like a member of this odd family. And that meant becoming more comfortable around here. Which, in turn, meant that we could laugh and goof around, but I also called them out on their bullshit when needed. Becoming a figure in this household meant that I saw everyone in it at their best and at their worst. Thankfully, there wasn’t much of the latter lately. In fact, it was almost a time of celebration.

It was currently 1:07 am and I was busy in the kitchen in full-on planning mode. And because of this, I didn’t hear the door open.

“Hey, what are you doing on my turf so late at night? On your day off, in fact.”

I dropped the wooden spoon I had been holding and whipped around. There stood Albert in his PJ’s, running a hand through his messy hair and smirking at me.

“Jeez, don’t scare me like that. I almost dropped everything.” I turned back to the bowl. “If you must know, I’m making a cake for Ben’s birthday tomorrow.”

“Ben?” He looked confused. “Oh! Bugs.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, ‘Bugs.’ I refuse to call him by that awful nickname. So he has a bit of an overbite, so what? He looks nothing like Bugs Bunny.”

Albert chuckled. “It’s all in good fun. If he truly didn’t like it, we’d all stop calling him that.” He rested his elbows on the counter opposite of me, staring into the bowl. “So what do you mean you’re making him a cake? That wasn’t on the grocery list.” He glanced over at a piece of paper tacked to the wall. “And it definitely wasn’t in the budget.”

I wiped my hands on my apron before looking up at him pointedly. “Yeah, I heard that those boys don’t ever really get an authentic birthday party each year. It damn near broke my heart. So I took it upon myself to change that. I bought all of this with my own money. Ben’s going to have a legitimate celebration tomorrow. Ten years old is an important milestone.”

Albert looked surprised to say the least. “That’s very generous of you. But you don’t have to do that. We do little things for the boys on their birthdays. I let them pick what we have for dinner and they choose which movie everyone watches that night. It’s not much, but it’s all we can do.”

My eyes softened a little. “I understand. It’s heartbreaking when you can’t give the people you love everything they deserve. But I’m sure they all know you guys try your best. And I didn’t mean to sound accusatory or anything. I just wanna do my part in making their lives as ‘normal’ as possible.”

Albert grabbed a tea kettle and started filling it with water. “Well, thank you. I’m sure they’ll love it. But I have to warn you, after tomorrow each of them is gonna be expecting the same treatment on their birthdays.”

I smiled. “I know. And that’s why I’ve decided to put back a little money from every paycheck I get so I can make it happen.”

Albert paused, causing the kettle to overflow a bit.

“Shit!” He set about drying off the counter with a nearby rag and set the kettle on the stove, turning to me. “You’d really do that?” I nodded. “That’s… wow. I’ll be honest with ya, I didn’t really know what to expect from you when you first moved in. Don’t get me wrong, you seemed nice enough, and the boys really took a liking to ya. But I wasn’t sure you’d fit in so quickly and so easily.”

He looked down at his hands, which were fiddling with an old looking friendship bracelet on his wrist. “It’s been hard, you know? The last three months. Race has been my best friend since I was eleven years old, when I moved in here. I was so scared and lost; I thought I’d never be happy again. But then this curly haired boy with a dopey grin took me under his wing. He taught me that life is so much more than 1’s and 0’s, black and white, happy and sad. And for the first time I felt like I could talk about what happened to my parents and the events that led up to me coming here.” He smiled slightly. “Race never took life too seriously. He always said that we’d already lived out all the scary parts, so all that was left was adventure and happy memories to come. And dammit if I didn’t believe him wholeheartedly.” The kettle whistled and he turned around.

I could hear him sigh. “But then his dad got sick and he had to leave. And don’t take this as me saying you did something wrong or that you aren’t good enough. Quite the opposite, actually. I just didn’t know it would be this hard to be away from my friend again.” He turned back, holding two mugs, and handed one to me with a smile. “But if we were to have anyone else here, taking care of the boys… I’m glad it’s you.” He clinked his glass to mine.

“Thanks, Al.” We stood in comfortable silence for a moment, drinking our tea. Then he glanced at all of the items on the counter before laughing.

“Okay, I know we’re all on a budget around here so I won’t scold you for getting a box cake mix, but I will share a couple secrets to make it seem like it’s homemade.” I furrowed my brow as he collected a few things from the cabinets.

“My Nonna would kill me if she knew I was allowing this to happen, but I, too, have made cake from a box once or twice.”

“Your Nonna sounds like a gem.”

He snickered at that. “Oh, yeah, she’s a saint. Though if she were to ever meet you she’d tell you that you were wearing the neckline of a hooker and devil’s makeup. But then she’d pinch your cheeks and feed you tiramisu, so you take the good with the bad.” I let out a loud laugh.

“My lips are sealed about the cake, but I’ll take any and all verbal abuse if I can eat anything made by the wonderful woman that taught you how to cook.”

He smiled sheepishly. “So, when making a chocolate cake you’re gonna want to throw in an extra egg and always use butter, even if it says to use oil.” I did as I was told. “Good.  Now if you really wanna bring out the flavor, I like to add some instant coffee into the mix.”

An hour later I was frosting the cake as Al leaned on the counter, face in his hand and eyes drooping.

“Hey, I got it from here. Go back to bed. You have the weekend shift and can’t afford to fall asleep while on duty. One of the boys might set something on fire out of sheer dumb luck.”

“Oh, and I’m sure all the added sugar from, I don’t know, a cake won’t have anything to do with that,” he said with a yawn. I lightly smacked his shoulder as he walked past.

“Hey, Al?” He turned back to me with sleepy eyes. “Race was right, in a way. Sure, you can’t guarantee that the rest of your life will be all happy moments. But the boys care about you, and you have amazing friends, and a family that loves you so much.  And a grandma that can cook circles around Gordon Ramsey, and is probably tougher than him, too,” I laughed. “Life may not be perfect; it may not be all you had hoped. But keep surrounding yourself with those people and you won’t even be able to tell the difference.”

He smiled warmly and nodded, then turned and left.

The next morning I allowed myself to sleep in, having finally gone to bed some time around 3 am. When I went downstairs it was fairly quiet. I checked to make sure no one had snuck a bite out of the cake in the fridge and made myself a cup of coffee. It was almost scarily quiet. That is, until Peter came running into the kitchen, skidding to a halt in front of me.

“Oh! Mornin’, Miss (Y/N)! I was just looking for the paper towels. I accidentally knocked over the vase by the front door. But don’t worry! Nothing’s broken.”

I cracked a smile. “Not a problem, Sweet Pea. It’s good that you’re taking initiative and helping out by cleaning up your mess.” I handed him the roll. “It’s super quiet this morning.”

“Yeah, the older boys are doing their Sunday paper route. They’re usually not back until lunchtime.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot they did that.”

“I wish I was old enough to have a job,” he sighed. I smiled down at him.

“You will be soon enough. For now, enjoy being a kid. Where your only responsibilities are going to first grade and having fun. And you’ve already exceeded those expectations by helping with some of the chores, and we’re all very thankful for that.” After contemplating that for a second, he looked pretty proud of himself. I ruffled his hair and sent him on his way.

I usually didn’t know what to do on my days off. Sometimes I would spend some time with nature and go to Central Park so I could get out of the house for a bit. Other times I would catch up with family and friends. But more often than not I’d find myself roaming around, not sure what to do. I was so used to having a list of things that needed done and watching after all the boys that even when I was off duty I found it hard to stop.

So today I took my coffee and the book I was currently reading and went out onto the front porch to enjoy the nice weather. I stopped short when I saw Rider sitting on the porch swing I had planned to sit on.

I haven’t talked to him much since that first day. I haven’t really had to since he’d stopped going out of his way to be a pain in the ass. But I had thought that since we had a mutual understanding, he would feel more open to talk about whatever has been bothering him. But he never really took me up on my offer. Not until today, that is.

I walked over to where he seemed deep in thought, startling him a bit. He looked down at the items in my hands.

“Oh, sorry. You can sit here, I’ll go.”

“No need. Can I join you? If not, that’s fine, I’ll sit somewhere else.” He paused for a moment, and then nodded once. So I sat on the opposite end of the swing, sipping my coffee. It was uncomfortably silent for a bit before I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“So how come you don’t do a paper route like the other boys?”

He scoffed. “That’s for kids. I’m not a kid. But Jack insists I’m not ‘mature enough’ for a real job yet. I think he’s afraid I’ll make enough money for a train ticket and run away or something.”

“I bet that’s frustrating. But can’t you see where he’s coming from? You haven’t exactly proven him otherwise.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “I know. I know that I’m difficult. I know that I’m acting like some teen movie stereotype. But you gotta see things from my point of view.”

“Okay, then help me understand. I’m all ears.”

He looked unsure; glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “How often do you hear about teenagers getting adopted?”

“Well, Race and Albert weren’t adopted until they were sixteen. And now they have amazing families who love them dearly.”

“It’s just… I’m already that weird, loner, orphan boy at my school. If I keep it up for much longer, no one’s gonna want to date me.” I hadn’t been expecting that. And seeing how wide his eyes got, neither had he. He looked ready to run away, so I quickly continued the conversation.

“Don’t say that. I’m sure plenty of people want to date you.” His face flushed as he avoided eye contact. Realization dawned on me. “Unless you have a particular person in mind?” He didn’t respond, but as he hid his face in his arms it kind of gave it away. “That’s great! But you shouldn’t be so concerned about them not liking you because you live in an orphanage. If something so little drives them away, then they’re not worth your time. Because ‘orphan’ is not part of your identity. Sure, you may live here and you may have a grievous, less than perfect backstory… But that does not define you. When I look at you, I don’t see ‘weird, loner, orphan boy.’ I see a young man who is strong, who doesn’t back down from a fight, who isn’t afraid to speak his mind even if it may come out a little harsh at times. Not that I’m bitter about it,” I said sarcastically, earning a small laugh from him.

“I see someone who isn’t his past, but sure as hell has a bright future ahead of him. What was it that Race always said? ‘You’ve already lived out all the scary parts, so all that’s left is adventure and happy memories.’”

He looked shocked to hear me quoting Race. Or maybe he wasn’t used to having someone have faith in him. Either way, it was upsetting seeing how easily a few words had an effect on him. His eyes searched mine for a moment and then he looked down into his lap.

“Charlie.”

“What?”

“…That’s the name of the person I…like.”

He looked so nervous, almost as if he could break down right there. So I placed my hand on his.

“Then he is lucky such an amazing boy likes him.” His head snapped to the right, looking at me with tears in his eyes. I barely had enough time to smile before he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around me. This morning has been full of unexpected things, but this topped all of them. I hugged him back just as tight. I could hear him crying in my ear as he whispered, “Thank you.”

We stayed like that for a long time. But he must’ve been afraid one of the boys would see him in this emotional state so he eventually leaned back and scrubbed at his face.

“I, uh, have never said that out loud before. Not to Race, not even to myself.”

I nodded and rubbed his back. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“I-I’m just so afraid of having all these strikes against me: Orphan, Creep, Weirdo… Gay. I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“You don’t have to wear it all on your sleeve if you’re not ready. And don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul. But if you ask me, I think you’ll find yourself a lot happier and more relieved when you can be who you truly are. But work at your own pace. And, like I’ve said, you can always talk to me.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, so I’m throwing Ben a birthday party tonight. Wanna help? But don’t tell the other boys, it’s a surprise. I’m keeping your secret, now you can keep one for me. It’s only fair,” I smirked at him.

He laughed. “Deal.”

Ben was surprised, to say the least. It warmed my heart to see the excitement on the young boy’s face when he saw all the decorations. I was afraid the other boys would be jealous, but they were just as excited for him. Everyone sang Happy Birthday with such enthusiasm. And when the cake was passed around, the dining room was filled with happy chatter. It was so nice seeing everyone finally happy. It seemed like such a daunting task. Turns out all it takes is a little communication and a lot of sugar.

By the time we all squeezed together in the living room to watch How to Train Your Dragon, Ben’s birthday movie choice, everyone seemed content. The movie had just started when Jack’s phone rang.

“Sorry, I’ll put it on si-“ He paused as he looked at the caller ID.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh, nothing. I have to take this. I���ll be right back.” He got up and quickly went into his office. We all shrugged and turned back to the movie. I looked over at Rider who was sitting in one of the armchairs with Peter in his lap. He was wearing the newsboy cap Rider had given him that afternoon. “Now you can pretend you have a job like the older kids,” he had said. I couldn’t stop the wide grin that spread across my face if I tried.

A little while later, Jack slipped back into his seat, looking giddy. I gave him a questioning look.

“It’s nothing,” he whispered. “But if you think everyone’s happy now, just wait.”

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