#also sorry for not answering a few asks- we’ve either been busy or not mentally and/or emotionally able to answer them the past few days

[hermitcraftkinfessions]

Thank you to everyone who got us to 500 likes!

[cantaloupe-draws]

El Chico del Apartamento 512

Irl! Quackity x Female! reader

Summary: Nothing interesting ever happens in the apartment complex you live in. It’s the same old routine for you. Constantly turning down your neighbor and heading too and from your apartment. Well that’s up until you meet the very cute boy that lives in apartment 512 that you can never seem to gather the courage to talk too. To make make matters worse, he shows up to the cafe you work at

Switches from Reader’s s POV to Quackity’s POV at the very end

Genre: Song fic, fluff, somewhat cafe trope, strangers to lovers, crushes

Warnings: use of Quackity’s real name, creepy neighbor, cursing, and I think that’s about it

Song :El Chico del Apartamento 512 by Selena

Lyrics are in bold

—

Every day is the same down the corridor

Every day it’s the same old thing. I pass the same old doors as I make my way towards my own at the end of the corridor. Counting the room numbers as I pass.

“508, 509, 510,-“ I count and but as soon as I reach room 511 the door suddenly swings forward and I’m greeted by both a whistle and Chad, my neighbor.

“Y/n baby I keep on waiting for you to go on a date with me like you promised,” Chad said as he stood in front of his door frame, right arm resting on the door. “I need to show you around town,” he said with a smirk as he rested his face on his fist.

I scoffed as I moved away from him, “The only thing you need right now is an urgent shower. You stink like a pig and it’s absolutely disgusting. Besides, I never promised you anything” I said, trying to continue on my way, but Chad just kept getting more and more persistent with every rejection. His nagging was getting annoying.

“Come Y/n I’ll take you to this bar across town, I’ll even pay for your drinks” he kept persisting.

You would think that any decent guy that’s asking you out on a date would obviously pay for them himself. It’s a given but this is Chad we’re talking about. I was sick of his terrible date ideas and I had to face him once again.

“Listen, I don’t know how many times I’ve told you this and how many times I’ll have to repeat it but, I don’t want to go on these stupids dates with you,” I told him as I rejected for what seemed to be the millionth time. And as soon as I said that the door beside us swung open.

Out came a young man wearing a navy blue cap that was covering almost the entirety of his hair but still managed to expose small tufts of dark brown hair from the sides. He looked up at the predicament Chad and I were both in and I was able to get a good look at him.

He had almond-shaped eyes that were a dark brown color and had various beauty marks scattered around his face. He was attractive. Very VERY attractive. Oh no I’m in deep shit, I thought to myself as I quickly turned away when I felt that I was staring at him for too long. He turns away from us and heads towards the elevator doors.

I stayed stunned for a few moments then turned to face Chad again, completely red in the face, dumbfounded, and at a complete loss for words. But before Chad could get another word out I quickly rushed to my apartment and leaned my back against the door once I got inside. My heart is beating fast and my chest feels tight and constricted. I quickly got myself a glass of water from my faucet and though it helped with my fast heart rate, it didn’t help the butterflies swarming around in my stomach. It might sound crazy but I think I’ve just met the man of my dreams.

Ever since then, I’ve made sure to take my sweet time walking down the corridor in hopes to see the cute boy from apartment 512 again. I’ve gone as far as to purposely make small talk and fake my interest in Chad in hopes to see him once more.

—

The boy from apartment 512 the one who makes my poor heart beat fast.

I walked into the elevator quickly pressing the button towards the first floor when I heard someone yell “HOLD THE DOOR PLEASE!”

Loud footsteps came barreling towards the elevator. The yell of itself was enough to get my blood pumping but, to make matters much worse it was the cute boy from apartment 512 who was coming towards me.

“Thank you so much,” he said out of breath once he got inside. He offered me a smile of gratitude as the elevator doors closed. I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a cap this time but, instead he was sporting a grey beanie with red and blue stripes.

‘He’s the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my entire life’ I internally screamed to myself.

“Yeah, no problem” I responded quietly in hopes I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.

Even if there weren't more than two pieces of dialogue uttered between us, it was enough for my heart to beat faster than the speed of light.

—

The boy from apartment 512 who causes me to stutter like I've never done before.

I was manning the cashier station at the cafe I worked at. It was filled to the brim with people who were either typing away on their laptops or having a conversation with their friends.

But on this day, I had finally learned his name.

The busy atmosphere had me tackling customers' orders from left to right, “Hello, may I take your order?” I said as the next customer approached me.

But surprisingly enough, I was greeted by a familiar face.

The cute boy from apartment 512.

“Yes, hello I would like a caramel macchiato please,” he said and I felt my face go red instantly.

Oh my god, it’s him again, I thought as I knew that my brain would start to scramble once more. “O-of course. Coming right up, n-name?” I asked him as I completely stumbled on my words.

“Alex,” he said, “Okay A-Alex your name will be called out when your order is ready,” I tell him as I continue on with my work.

My coworkers had never seen me lose composure like that. It was clear that they would never let me live this down but even if I made a complete fool of myself in front of him, a huge part of me also just wants to keep talking to him both night and day.

—

But today I have finally truly decided to confess my love to him

I mentally prepared myself for the next time I interacted with Alex. I’ve finally decided that the next time I would run into him, I would finally ask to get to know him better in hopes that one day friendship will blossom into a wonderful relationship. A giddy laugh escaped me as I thought of the idea.

The cafe was busy as usual, with the same groups of people coming in. As it hit peak rush hour the line of customers just kept getting longer and longer and I was attempting to quickly attend to them to the best of my ability. Somehow, this was not enough to deter the feelings of butterflies in my stomach.

I knock on his door and I get goosebumps,

a blonde answers the door and my heart breaks

As I heard the bell above our door ring once more I raised my head and saw him, Alex. He was holding the door open for a woman as she walked in. They stood close together as they waited in line. This might seem like a bit of an exaggeration but when I saw them conversing together waiting in line the butterflies that were once fluttering disappeared and were replaced with dread. As my heart dropped, I realized that one thing was wanting to be friends with him but, that doesn’t change the fact that I had grown feelings for him. If he’s in a relationship then, what now? I felt lost as to how to handle this.

As the line in front of me kept getting shorter and shorter, I was becoming anxious as his turn was approaching. Though as it was almost the pair’s turn to order, Alex suddenly turns around and leaves the line and when his turn arrives he still wasn’t there. Despite this, I still went ahead and tended his apparent girlfriend.

I truly felt my heart breaking into pieces when suddenly she asked:

"Were you looking for my brother?"

“Hello, may I take your order?” I asked her, “Yes, can I have a vanilla latte please? But um, can we wait a couple of minutes for my brother? He went to the restroom and didn’t tell me his order,” she asked. Then the realization hit me like a ton of bricks, this was his sister. I’m so dumb, how could I’ve not realized the resemblance between them?? “Yeah that’s no problem” I finally responded.

Soon enough Alex came rushing towards his sister, “I’m so sorry for the wait” he said once he reached the both of us. “Just hurry it up. I’ll be waiting for you at the table” His sister said as she turned her back to the both of us.

Turning my attention to him as I rang up his order he then speaks up “You’re one of my neighbors aren’t you?” He asks me with a grin. I stop in my tracks as if I’m a deer in headlights.

“Yeah I am actually” I smile at him trying to muster enough courage to continue our conversation.

“I thought so, you were the one who held the elevator door for me the other day right? Also, the one who was yelling at my neighbor.”

My face instantly goes red as I thought back to the first time I met Alex. “In my defense he deserved it. He’s been harassing me ever since I’ve moved in” I shudder at the thought of Chad.

“Yeah I’ve realized that he really is a douche, he enjoys banging on the damn walls at three in the morning” he said as we laugh together at the stupid things Chad has done.

“Okay, okay you’re order will be out shortly,” I tell him with a smile, feeling my heart skip a beat. But Alex doesn’t move from the line.

“To be honest the whole reason I even came here wasn’t really for a drink or anything.” He said gazing towards the floor and rubbed the back of his neck.

“This might be a bit sudden because we’ve barely met but I wanted to actually ask you for your number since you seem really nice and you’re very pretty. If you’re not interested then that’s fine, I’ll just take my drink and go” Alex said sheepishly.

After I heard these words I found myself dumbfounded. At a complete loss for words. ‘DID HE JUST SAY THAT??? HOW DO I RESPOND???��� and from there my mind was absolutely speeding to the point where I just stood there. ‘HURRY UP AND DO SOMETHING!!!’ I yelled at myself, but yet still nothing managed to escape. Alex began to fidget more and more playing with his hands as I just stood there without a response.

“It’s okay, I’ll just go now.” Alex quickly said leaving.

—

Alex’s POV

‘SHIT. FUCK. MOTHERFUCKER. STUPID IDIOT.’

I cursed at myself while I walked towards my sister. Laying my head on the table, covering it in utter embarrassment.

“That didn’t go well, did it?” My sister said while casually scrolling through her phone. “And here you were boasting about how much of a smooth talker you were. You sir, just got rejected.”

“Will you shut up?” I groaned at her not raising my head. I’m already embarrassed out of my mind and she is not making it any better.

“Fine fine, you big baby I’ll go get our drinks and then you can go home and cry.” She said standing up as our orders were called.

‘God, why did I think it was a good idea to bring my sister along? How had it not crossed my mind? I hadn’t even given it a second thought as to what I was gonna do if I did get rejected. And to make matters much worse I just got rejected in front of my sister. I will never hear the end of it at family reunions. I’m already mentally digging my grave when I heard my sister come back.

“I think this one is yours” She said as she placed my drink in front of me. I raise my head slightly so I would be able to see what was in front of me. I looked at my cup as it said:

‘To the cute boy from apartment 512’

‘xxx-xxx-xxxx -Y/n’

—

A/N- So this is the first time I’ve ever wrote fan fiction before, I mainly stick to drawing so please excuse any mistakes I tried my best. But I hope you liked it over all. Also the lyrics in English don’t make as much sense as they do in Spanish, and it’s was bugging me so if they seem a bit odd you know why.

A special thanks to @tofuyami she really helped me with the brainstorming and editing process <3

@hungoverhellhound @cherrysirin @tofuyami @nealocus @struggling-with-time @bugsinmycoldsoup @venusacrossthestars @galaxygnf

Also stand Selena always -🍈

[hangovercurse]

Nothing

Part i of the Without You series: When Colson and Megan break up, the boys count on Y/N to piece Colson back together, which only leads to disaster.

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Colson being kind of a dick, cursing, a little bit of aggression/ violence. This one’s definitely angsty.

A/N: This was supposed to be just a one part fic. Then that turned into 2 parts. And then 3. And then all of a sudden I had written 5 parts and over 10,000 words. Enjoy 😊 (also this is v unedited so if you see a mistake... mind ya business)

Word Count: 2084

| ii | iii | iv | v | vi |

masterlist

When you got the text from Rook, you knew it was probably gonna be bad. 

Megan just left him, for good. Not gonna be pretty the next few days so maybe don’t come by anytime soon. 

Your heart broke for your best friend. Colson had been really in love with Megan. And as much as you hated seeing them together for your own personal reasons, you could tell he was really happy. 

Ok. Let me know if you guys need me. If it gets bad I can take Casie for a few days. Take care of him for me pls. 

You and Colson had been friends for years now. You knew almost everything about each other, you told him everything. He let you crash at his place after your ex kicked you out, and you had spent many hours curled up with him, watching stupid movies to distract him from his most recent breakup or mental breakdown. 

But this was different. Colson told you he wanted to marry her at some point, and you knew he wasn’t lying. And you couldn’t blame him. As much as you hated no longer being the only women (other than Casie) in his life, you couldn’t dislike Megan. She was just one of those people who everyone loved. 

The thought of texting Colson crossed your mind, but you weren’t sure if it would hurt or help. From the sound of it, he was a wreck.

So, naturally, you texted Pete. 

Have you talked to Cols yet?

With Colson came Pete, or came you, you weren’t really sure. Somewhere along the way you and Pete had become close friends. He was like the older brother you’d never asked for, and he would probably say something similar about you. 

You couldn’t really explain it, Pete could read you like a book. And because of that, he knew everything. He was the only one to catch on to the way you sometimes looked at Colson for too long, or got irritated when he’d bring a new girl around. 

I’m heading over there right now. You should talk to him.

You rolled your eyes.

Not sure that’s the best idea. You guys are better at handling... all that. Once he gets a little less angry then I’ll take him. 

Pete texted you back a few minutes later.

Thanks for the support, kid. I’ll keep you updated. Just pulled in.

Good luck, Petey.

You tossed your phone on your bed, a sigh leaving your lips. You decided worrying was a problem for another day.

No more than 12 hours later you were getting a phone call from Rook. 

“Dude it’s like 4 in the morning, why are you calling me.” 

“Y/N, we’ve tried everything. He’s locked up in his room and every time one of us tries to talk to him he blows up. Literally he almost punched Slim a few hours ago.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning at the predicament. “So now you want me to come over?” You asked, “What do you think I’m gonna be able to do?”

“Well he’s not gonna try and hit you for one. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he’s significantly nicer to you than to anyone else.”

“What do I even say to him? “Sorry that the love of your life broke up with you but at least we can smoke pot and watch Spongebob?” I mean come on, man. I’m not good at this.”

“Please.” He pleaded, “We’re all out of options and I can’t stand to see him get any worse than he is.”

You moved off your bed and towards your dresser. “Fine, I’ll be there in 15.” 

You threw on the first pair of sweatpants you could find and slipped on shoes, grabbing your key and heading out the door.

True to your word, you pulled up to the house 15 minutes later, parking on the side of the street and heading straight into the house. When the guys saw you, they visibly brightened up. 

“You guys are such fucking wimps.” You rolled your eyes as you made your way towards the stairs. 

Baze chuckled, “We love you Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and continued on your way, stopping by Casie’s room to see if she was asleep. To your surprise, she wasn’t. 

“Hey sweet girl,” you whispered as you entered her room, “why are you still up?”

She smiled a little when she saw you. “Couldn’t sleep. I’m really worried about Dad.” 

You leaned on her doorframe, sending her a sad smile. “I am too. But he’ll be okay. Your dad’s pretty tough.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but he really liked Megan.”

“Did you?” You ask, trying to gauge her emotions. 

“I mean, I guess so. She was nice to me. Most of his girlfriends aren’t that nice to me.” 

“That’s a pretty shitty way to measure if you like someone or not.” She giggles at that. “Don’t tell your dad I said that word in front of you.”

“Ok. She was nice. And she made him happy so, yeah, I guess I liked her. Not as much as I like you but...” Casie’s voice got higher as she dragged out the last word and you just rolled your eyes with a chuckle. 

Casie had this fantasy of you and Colson getting married one day, but you always told her it would never happen. 

“Ok kiddo, whatever you say.” You teased her, “try and get some sleep, okay?” 

She nodded with a smile. “Are you gonna go talk to Dad?”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later, okay? If you need to come over and talk or stay the night or anything just call me, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.” She said quietly. 

“Love you too, Case.”

You shut the door to her room, moving down the hallway to Colson’s door. You took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare for what was about to happen, and knocked. 

“I told you guys to go the fuck away.” A muffled yet angry voice said from the opposite side of the door.

“It’s me, Cols. Y/N.” You said, hoping he could hear you. 

When you got no response you asked, “Can I come in?” 

A few more seconds of silence followed, and then the lock clicked and the door opened. You stood face-to-face with your best friend. His hair was a mess, falling in his face. The bags under his eyes were darker than ever, and the frown he wore made him look even more pathetic. You felt your heart breaking. 

As you met his eyes, you gave him a sad smile. “Hey Cols.” 

Instead of responding, he wrapped his arms around you, leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. 

He started walking backwards, pulling you with him as he continued to hug you. One of his hands pushed the door shut and he sat on his bed, finally letting go of you. 

You looked down at him, grabbing his hand and holding it in your own. It was something you had done before, you two were very touchy people and so half of your friendship was just you two cuddling or play fighting or holding hands.

“So we can do one of three things,” you started, “We can talk about it, we can cuddle and watch something stupid and pretend nothing’s wrong, or we can get high and do something stupid.”

For the first time in what you would imagine to be all night, Colson smiled. it was a very small smile, but you took it. 

He looked up at you through his eyelashes. “And by stupid you mean...”

You rolled your eyes, “I mean we can go set off bottle rockets in the backyard or try to jump off your roof and into the pool.” 

“Oh damn. I was hoping you were gonna say you would suck my dick.” 

Your eyes widened at his bluntness and the implication. You shoved his shoulder, “Colson! That’s gross!” You giggled, but his expression was unwaveringly serious. 

“I’m being serious.” He deadpanned and you furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Colson what the fuck?” Your mind was spinning trying to figure out if he was joking. 

You got your answer when he stood up, grabbing your waist and leaning over you. “I thought you’d want to...” 

You took in a breath at the sudden proximity, trying to back away from him but his grip remaining firmly on your waist. “Colson, stop. Please. This isn’t funny.” 

You could smell the alcohol on his breath and you had to keep reminding yourself of that fact. He’s drunk, and sad, and doesn’t know what he’s saying. 

“I thought you’d want to, cause it’ll make me happy. And you’ll do anything to make me happy.” One of his hands reached up and grabbed your jaw, making sure you couldn’t look away.

“Colson you’re being a fucking weirdo, let me go.” You raised your voice. Your heart was racing at this point and the thoughts flowing around your head were not pretty. 

You were always anxious for the day he’d figure you out. When he’d finally realize how you felt for him. But this was worse than anything you’d thought of. 

“You’ll do anything to make me happy because you love me, right?” 

You felt tears stinging in your eyes, wanting nothing more but to look away from his sinister expression. The way he was looking at you made it very clear that he was enjoying your discomfort, your embarrassment. 

“Colso-” 

He walked forwards, pushing you gently against the wall. His arms went to either side of you, his face inches from yours. You tried to look away, but his hand on your jaw forced you to face him.

Any other time you would have loved for Colson to pin you against his wall, but this was wrong. 

“Just say it. Say you’re in love with me, and I’ll drop it.” 

“Colson, what the fuck are you on right now?” You tried to steer the topic away from you, but he wouldn’t have it. 

“Say it.” 

You reached up to try and push his chest away from you, but he was much taller and stronger than you, so you did nothing. 

“Just tell me!” He yelled at your silence. A tear slipped down your cheek as you trembled under him. His face was red and his eyes were watering. 

 “Why are you doing this?” You whispered. This all felt like a bad dream, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. 

“Because I need to know if she was right.” His voice got a little quieter, but he still wouldn’t move away from you. “I need to know if the reason the love of my fucking life just left me is true.”

You were shaking, your breaths getting shorter. “What are you talking about.” Your words were choked. The grip on your jaw started to get a little too tight.

“I defended you!” He yelled, tears falling from his face. “She told me that you were in love with me and I defended you.”

“Colson you’re hurting me.” You whined, trying to wriggle your way out of his grasp. He ignored your statement and continued talking, but his grip loosened slightly.

“And then she told me that she thinks I’m in love with you.” His voice was getting darker. “And that’s why she left. So I want to make it very clear to you.�� He paused, leaning closer to your ear. “I will never love you. Ever. Not now, not in a million lifetimes. You mean nothing to me.”

Your vision was blurry from your tears, so you blindly reached out to push him away from you. His body seemed to have given up, as he moved backwards out of your way, stumbling slightly. Through your tears you could make out a smug smile on the man before you ran out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

You ran down the stairs, the guys waiting for you to give them good news, but their hope turned to concern once they saw you. You walked straight past them towards the door, not trusting yourself to say anything without breaking completely.

As you reached for the door handle you heard a faint yell from upstairs, followed by loud banging, and then silence. You sniffled, turning the handle and leaving the house, much to the protest of your friends.

[foxymoxynoona]

A Beautiful Beyond

NOTE: This is a short story sequel to A Sea of Indigo, which you can read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25881670/chapters/62890984

Summary: Years have passed since Jungkook came to Marigold, years since you kissed beneath the stars and confessed your love and bound yourself together. But now a new challenger has entered the ring, one which threatens to unbalance everything: your first baby! Good luck, kids.

Pitbull Hybrid Jeon Jungkook x Human Reader(Y/N) Words: 14,339

CW: not much, childbirth, domestic fluff, pregnancy, new parents, reference to prior miscarriage

Read on ao3 or below cut: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33741412

Jungkook sat in a scratchy chair in the far corner of the ballroom, next to a wide round table with his things on it. Correction, your things. Your conference bag, packed to the brim with pamphlets, samples of lotions and special shampoos and bandages and protein snacks, branded pens and water bottles and lollipops. Your messenger bag which he had carried all day, overstuffed with your own journals, loose notes, two books, phone charger, ginger candies, comfier flat shoes, socks, and enough snacks to constitute two meals, with a water bottle dangling from the strap by a carabiner. A stack of magazines and trade journals and news articles you’d collected from booths introducing health treatments, medical technologies, or new mental health services formed a stack beside the bags.  

Jungkook stretched in his chair and scratched his scalp and blinked around the room as if he’d just woken from a nap. He hadn’t, he would never fall asleep while you were wandering a crowded place like this and might need his help at any moment. But it was boring. So fucking boring. Though not the first conference he had traveled with you for, this particular time, his patience for a three days full of lectures and networking and chatty lunches was thin.

He watched you lean against a tall table, talking with two other women, both nurses who worked at other hybrid sanctuaries in Asia. So many people you knew had descended on Tokyo for this international conference. You had begged and pleaded to go after Jungkook said he didn’t think it was a good idea. You had sighed and fluttered your eyelashes and draped yourself around him and knit your fingers together and then kissed along his jaw and sucked on his ears. He flushed now, letting out an impatient huff at how impossible it was to say no to you when you did that. 

But he had his reasons! You turned and laughed at something one of the nurses said, your hand resting on top of the large round swell of your belly. He noticed the way you alternated leaning against the table and swaying, meaning either your hips or your feet were hurting. Your lower back must be too from standing all day; he saw your back arch outwards for a moment as you tried to stretch. You had cried just the other day because you couldn’t actually stretch your back the way you wanted, but if he pressed his knuckles along your spine it felt good. You needed that right now, he sensed it. He was always trying to sense the things you needed, watching you closely, trying to take care of you because he’d done this to you after all. He thought you still hadn’t been quite sure about a baby but you were doing this for him. 

And also for a nurse you were remarkably bad at taking care of yourself.

He decided without seeing them that you ankles were swollen enough and he needed to drag you out of there, so he gathered all your things and marched over, only to shy away from the pairs of eyes that all immediately shifted to him.

“Y/N, let’s go rest,” he mumbled at your shoulder.

“Just a few more minutes.”

“You said that two hours ago…”

“I know,” you said, turning and pressing your hand to his chest. “I’m sorry, I know you’re bored. Just a few more minutes, I swear.”

He sighed. But you smiled at him. And from here your ankles didn’t look too bad yet.

“Drink more water,” he said, handing you the water bottle you’d set on the table. He hauled your things back to the round table and dumped them down but didn’t sit this time. Instead he remained standing, so you could have the reminder that you had said you would go soon. 

He crossed his arms.

He paced. 

He leaned against the back of a chair when a few minutes bled into more. Two more people had joined you. And now he was getting hungry too, which he knew meant you were probably hungry too and too busy talking work stuff to realize it. Time to use his own powers of persuasion.

Once again he grabbed your bags up and approached, this time pressing up close against you back. You mindlessly lifted your fingers over your shoulder to touch his neck, a soft gesture that meant hi, I see you. He loved that gesture. He loved you, his infuriating woman who didn’t pay attention to your own limits.

“Y/N,” he whined quietly at the back of your head. The impatient huffs and whimpers were quiet, though probably not so quiet your colleagues couldn’t hear. He didn’t care right now. They’d think your whiny pup was dragging you away and though he hated that, it was the price he’d pay to get you upstairs to your room so you could put your feet up.

“Ok ok,” you said. To you colleagues, you explained, “My husband is telling me it’s time to go. I’ve dragged him around for three days now and I think we’ve hit the limit.”

“You need to rest,” he defended. My husband. The label flustered him as five pairs of eyes looked at him. He could read the surprise and curiosity on their faces. Husband? A hybrid? Nurse Y/N actually married a hybrid?

No, not actually. It wasn’t legal in Korea --or in most places, for that matter. But you had still had a ceremony last year when your grandparents had visited Marigold in the spring, donning traditional Korean clothing and standing underneath an arch on the dock Jungkook had built years ago. It was small and simple. His parents had come up for it too, to finally meet your grandparents. You had actually been calling him your husband to people for at least a year by that point, making a point of it after several unsurprising and hurtful assumptions about the nature of your relationship from outsiders. So you’d had your meaningful little ceremony, and he’d been more affected by it than he anticipated; he had not expected to be so touched when you legally changed your last name as your application for Korean citizenship was accepted, just one more way to connect you in a country that wouldn’t legally allow it.

You turned towards him, your belly pressing into his side as the others around the circle shook his hand and tried to hide any shock from their faces. Not only were you “married” to a hybrid, but of course they’d now wonder about that baby in your belly.

“Yes, it’s mine,” he said, though no one had asked. He knew they were wondering and he wanted them to know.

You immediately laughed and patted his chest, “Yes, it is, and you’re trying to make me take it easy, I know. So we’d better go. It’s been nice seeing you all; you’ve got my contact info. We fly home tomorrow but let’s keep in touch!” Your pat embarrassed him, or rather made him embarrassed by his own possessiveness of your. Human husbands probably didn’t announce that the baby in their (not legally) wife was theirs. But people didn’t doubt a human husband the way they would a hybrid not-real husband.

Your room was on a higher floor in the hotel. The silence of the elevator turned the noise of the conference into a tingly buzz still lingering in Jungkook’s ears, but by the time he closed the door of the hotel room, he could relax into the comfort of silence. Years ago, it had been the shift from a crowded arena during a fight to the quieter victor’s suite, where he’d get patched up, maybe given a girl to fuck, and then tossed into the kennels to collapse with the other exhausted survivors. Words couldn’t describe how much he preferred this routine: lining up your shoes by the door, listening to you putter around in the bathroom, then dragging you down onto the bed and pulling you feet into his lap. They were damp.

“You-- you don’t have to… do that,” you tried to protest, despite obviously just rinsing them off, either hopeful or accepting he was going to do this. Also part of the ritual. All it took was one good press of thumbs up the arch of your feet to make you moan and give up the fight. What you liked the most though was just the squeezing of your heels. He squeezed so hard he expected it to hurt but you just whined and sighed. The noises always went right to his dick. It didn’t take much from you to get him going and seeing you laid back against the pillows, belly rounded with his pup, feet twitching in his grip… well, it was enough. 

He wanted to rub your feet longer, but now his gaze kept sliding up to your belly until he couldn’t resist any longer. His hands followed, one flattening and tracing the curve.

“Baby is good,” you told him, answering his unasked question. He grinned as he stretched out beside you but a little lower, so his hand could continue to press. “Here,” you took his hand and pressed it low, where he could feel it, the irregular thump against his hand.

“Foot?” he asked.

“I sure hope so,” you snickered, “Or that baby is coming out with biceps as big as yours.” You squeezed his arm and he let you, amused at the way you so casually caressed each other's bodies. He kept his hand there, letting his son kick his palm.

“He’s strong,” he mused, only to flinch and quickly cover, “Do you think the baby will sleep now?”

“No, it slept the whole conference. I felt like I was stroking its head while we were down there,” you said, a contented smile on your face. He let out a sigh of relief that you hadn’t noticed his slip. 

Jungkook was certain you were carrying his son. It wasn’t that he preferred a son, but that was certainly going to be easier, seeing as he was a boy. He didn’t necessarily hope the baby was much like himself but he knew what it was like to be a little boy, and that had soothed some of his worries about fatherhood. Bitna was the only girl he’d grown up with and she wasn’t a very normal girl, so he’d be lost with a daughter. But he’d just sensed early on that the baby was a boy, and so hadn’t minded when you suggested not learning the baby’s sex until it was born because what did it matter?

It didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things. It didn’t, Jungkook had assured you when he’d first started insisting it was a boy and you had broken down in tears. He’d never forget you sobbing with disappointment in him, “Are you really one of those traditionalist men who only cares about a son?” No! No, he wasn’t! He just happened to think a son would be easier and happened to believe this baby was a son! To soothe you, he’d enthusiastically agreed not to find out the baby’s sex, agreeing it didn’t matter, secretly knowing he was going to be right.

And it didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things. It didn’t, Jungkook had reminded himself when the technicians didn’t disclose the baby’s sex. It wasn’t that he’d maybe wanted to know to reassure himself he wasn’t having a daughter, (moot, since his gut said it was a boy) but because he was just desperate to know anything at all. 

He stroked the spot on your belly the baby had been kicking. There was another hard kick that made you grunt, followed by a louder grunt.

“Oof, it’s moving.”

Jungkook dragged your flowy shirt up, watching the ridge of the baby’s back he could see as it shuffled and twisted inside. You could always feel when the baby moved like that. You could feel when the baby got hiccups or was sleeping. You could feel when the baby got startled by a loud sound around you or when it grew still listening to the soothing music Jungkook played at home every day while he painted. He knew you also had the aches and pains and cramps and heartburn and swollen ankles and back aches. 

But you got to experience this, the baby was already so real to you that he’d catch you mumbling to it sometimes, or tapping your fingers against your belly when the baby’s head or butt pressed against it in silent communication, or rocking in the glider you bought on recommendation from Taehyung and Yejin --who had just had their third and, according to Yejin, absolute final. 

Jungkook was on the outside of it. He went to almost every doctor’s appointment, trading shifts at the restaurant where he still worked to clear his schedule. He painted the nursery, he built the furniture, he took the best damn care of you he could. But he still had to wait to meet the baby in a way you didn’t, and he just wanted to know something about this baby, who was going to change your lives “in ways you can’t even imagine yet,” according to his mother. All he had to go on so far was that he thought the baby was a boy.

But he kept that to himself, tracing his finger over the bulge of a head or a butt pressed just above your belly button. Your fingers wound into his hair, scratching his scalp, sending goosebumps shooting across his arms. When he glanced at your face though, your eyes were closed, your expression peaceful for a brief moment.

“You’re tired, jagi,” he murmured and kissed your belly. 

“I won’t admit it.”

“Admit it,” he teased.

“Never.”

You didn’t even complain enough to him, he didn’t think. He wouldn’t have minded. Listening to you narrate every minor ache and pain could have given him a greater window into your experience. Listening was the part he could do.

“You don’t stop for anything,” he said. “But now you have to. We came to the conference. Now we’ll go home and you promised.”

“I know, I promised. We’ll go home and I’ll take it easy.”

He heard the extra something in your voice and knew not to push further. The sadness crept in, like it sometimes still did, even though this baby was healthy and growing well. The timing of the wedding and name change had also been an emotional reset. After two years of trying before you actually got pregnant, only for the first pregnancy to end in an early miscarriage, you’d both whispered doubts to each other in the dark whether a child could actually be in your future. Now you had a healthy growing baby in your belly but still there had been minor disagreements when you thought he coddled or he thought you pushed yourself too far. Would he have packed you up in bubble wrap for the whole pregnancy if he could, like you’d accused him of? Well… maybe.

But this you had agreed on. This conference was the last thing you would leave Marigold for. Now you would go home and be gentle with yourself and let him pamper you until the time came that Jungkook could finally meet his son.

You were still scratching his scalp as he murmured, “I love you.” It still felt bold to say it sometimes, but he was determined to say it every day. This baby would take being loved for granted, it would hear about it so much. No matter what happened, this baby would always know it had a father who loved him.

“I love you too,” you returned, rolling onto your side towards him.

“Yes, and I love you too,” Jungkook conceded.

“You didn’t mean me?” you pouted, a smile in your voice.

“I love you both,” Jungkook said and kissed you before settling on the pillows, your belly cradled between you.

Damn, he was ready to go home. This conference had been really fucking boring.

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

You sat on the living room sofa in the main house, staring at the ground, sulking. They’d called Jungkook. They might as well have called your dad, for all the gravity the call was made with and for all the pleading not to and for all the dread you had about the consequences. Jungkook was going to be unhappy with you. 

Sure enough, you could recognize his steps as the front door swung open, and his serious stare met you a moment later. You tried to return his stare, but then closed your eyes and slumped backwards on the couch, clasping your hands on top of your stomach. He sat beside you on the couch.

“She completely fainted,” Jimin tattled, appearing with a second cool cloth to drape across your forehead. The one Dale had given you was already around you neck, making you shirt uncomfortably wet. Eunju had lifted your feet onto the coffee table and brought you juice and crackers. 

“Hit the ground?” Jungkook asked, eyes wide with concern but brow somehow still lowered. 

You were the one to quickly say, “No, I barely fainted and Namjoon caught me--”

“I caught her,” Namjoon agreed, striding in. He set a glass of ice water on the table as well. “She smelled a little strange--”

“Probably just a sugar crash,” you quickly clarified. “Nothing more serious. You always smell people when they sugar crash. I just went a little too long before lunch. I was just about to stop and eat--”

“You said that like an hour ago, babe,” Maya called. Everyone was circling, bustling in and out of the room. You hated the coddling. You hated the attention. You hated that they had called Jungkook for something this trivial --you were a nurse! You knew it was just a small dizzy spell! 

Jungkook just studied your face for a moment, taking in all the information from these fucking snitches, before touching your shoulder and asking, “You want to rest here? Or should I take you home?”

“Take me home,” you quickly answered. “These mother hens are driving me crazy. I’m fine!”

“Well when our nurse is still working at thirty-eight weeks pregnant and faints, we get a little antsy,” Jimin scoffed. “Complain all you want!”

“How do you even remember the weeks? Do you have my due date penciled in--”

“We all do! It’s right on the calendar in the kitchen! When that baby comes and you stay home to recover, we can all finally let out a sigh of relief,” Maya teased. She stopped behind the couch and pressed her hands to your shoulders. 

“I’m pregnant, not made of rice paper. Women run marathons pregnant.”

“Not this woman,” Dale beamed at you. “So sorry you aren’t Superwoman this time, must be hard for your ego. Now Let Jungkook take you home, get some rest. And Y/N… You don’t have to wait until you’re literally pushing a baby out of your body. Take time off as soon as you need it.”

“I don’t. I just went a little too hard, that’s all,” you grumbled. You held your hand out for Jungkook to take, not amused when he adjusted the damp towels so they would come along for the ride. He helped you to the front door, and held you steady while you stepped into your flats --the big comfortable ugly ones that were the only thing that fit your larger feet right now. Once you were on the porch, he considered asking to carry you down, you could see the thought on his face. But apparently the scowl on your face worked, and he just helped you down and into the car.

It was a quiet ride home, though fortunately not a long one. You could smell the paint from the nursery, making it obvious how he’d spent his afternoon; as soon as you were deposited on the sofa, he ran to open the nursery windows and shut the door so it could air out without letting all the heat out of the house. He disappeared into the kitchen next, returning with an assortment of snacks to display before you on the coffee table a moment later. He brought you a blanket and a pillow and then pulled you feet onto his lap to roll the compression socks down.

“Don’t,” you complained because it felt like too much right now. He was being too sweet and he hadn’t scolded you yet, but you knew it was coming. you could see it on his face, held down by his furrowed eyebrows. “Just… say it and get it over with.”

“If you aren’t going to take care for your own sake, at least do it for the baby.”

You closed your eyes and looked away. That hurt more than you had expected. You felt a painful bubble in your chest at the words.

“I’m not endangering the baby,” you mumbled, gaze shifting to your hands in your lap. “I hate that you think that. You already think I’m a bad mother.”

“Huh?” The shift in his voice was immediate. “I don’t think that. I just meant…” He trailed off; you could feel his careful study. But the painful lump in your throat lingered and you knew if you looked at him you might cry.

“I’m not being reckless. My health is good. I’m taking breaks. I’m just not ready to stop working yet and sit around twiddling my thumbs--”

“You have to slow down.”

“If I slow down any more I’ll just be a potted plant!” you argued. “I didn’t forget to eat, I just wasn’t hungry yet because the heartburn has ruined my appetite. That’s normal! There’s no space for my stomach with the baby in there and it hasn’t dropped yet so--”

“So little meals, you said. You need snacks. You need to stop and rest.”

“I eat snacks but it just happened. I was just dizzy; I probably stood up too fast but everything is fine and I need you to stop acting like I’m just being selfish.”

“You should stop working and stay home and rest.”

“These are my last weeks to get to be Nurse Y/N before I’m just Mom,” you snapped. “Don’t take that away from me. I’m fine. Please trust that I love this baby too and I am not doing anything to endanger it. I knew you’d overreact; they shouldn’t have bothered calling you--”

“Y/N.”

You both lapsed into silence, staring in opposite directions. You were trying not to cry but the exhaustion and the frustration were building. 

“The only thing I can do to help the baby right now is take care of you,” he finally said. “You have to let me do that.”

“I am. But you have to trust me when I say I’m fine.”

“Fainting isn’t fine.”

“They exaggerated because they’re worried.” His sigh revealed what he thought of that answer. “I’m fine. I’ll eat more frequent small snacks and be fine. Please, just… please.” You didn’t know specifically what you were asking for. More trust. Less scolding. More compassion. Less guilt. 

Less guilt was really the thing you needed most. You had been prepared for the physical changes --more or less, anyway. As a nurse, you had taken care of plenty of pregnant women. Sure, going through them was a step beyond but still, you could identify symptoms and normal changes and causes for concern like a textbook. That was comforting.

What you had not been prepared for was the guilt. The fears. The mental and emotional worries that plagued your dreams and your waking both. The bigger you got, the more the world revolved around the baby growing in your belly, but you couldn’t help the small voice in your head crying but what about me? Don’t I still matter? You had made plenty of adjustments and sacrifices as needed to make sure the baby was happy and healthy and growing in there --you’d eliminated certain foods and coffees, just to be safe; you went to bed on time; you napped; you didn’t go visit your grandparents because of the risk of Zika; and so on and so on. Yes, you felt sad about those sacrifices sometimes. Wasn’t that allowed? Or did that mean you were already a terrible mother? You had plenty of people ask why you were still working this late in your pregnancy but it was because you could! You were healthy! The pregnancy was going well this time! And soon you would be home with the new baby for at least six months, maybe longer, and what would that even look like for you? You had been miserable when not working before. Who would you be when you were nothing but this baby’s mother for a while, possibly a long while? Could you be happy like that? Were you already failing for being worried about such selfish things, for still thinking about a career and a life that didn’t revolve solely around your child? Was it because Jungkook had wanted to have a baby more than you had? Were you doomed to be an unloving, terrible mother from the start because he was the one who’d wanted this first, and this was just proof of that? But you did want this baby! You had agreed to this, to the heartbreak of trying again after that first loss, because you wanted this too! Couldn’t you want both?

“Y/N,” he said, hand sliding across your back. You turned into his shoulder and finally couldn’t withhold the tears any longer. They streamed onto his shirt, soaking the fabric as you sobbed. He held you, but the position was awkward with your belly taking up so much space in between. He wound up dragging you onto his lap, tangling your bodies together the way puppies did, piling on each other to comfort or be comforted.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry. I know everything is harder for you right now. I can’t make anything easier. I’m just trying to take care of you. You work so hard all the time and I just want you to know that it’s ok for growing a baby to be enough.”

It wasn’t like him to stream out words like that; he must feel really bad and that soothed you too, reminding you that he didn’t know what the fuck they were doing either. 

“I don’t think I’m very good at being pregnant,” you admitted, pressing your face to his neck. 

“You are growing a healthy baby so you are very good at being pregnant. You are just not good at slowing down.”

“I don’t want to slow down,” you argued. “I listen to my body; I stop when I have to. But when I feel fine… Everything is changing and I’m trying not to complain or fuss but--”

“Complain to me, jagi! I’m your mate!”

“Yeah, but…”

He pressed his nose to your temple, rubbing, then nipped your nose and said gently, “I want to hear. I want to know. I don’t know anything. I can learn from you.”

“I don’t know anything either, Jungkook. I mean, I know about gestation and healthy baby size and pregnancy food needs. But I don’t know how to… how to become a mother, at least not a good one.”

“You’re a good mother already.”

“I’m not. I can’t be. I love this baby and I want this baby but everyone is saying I need to stop working, stop going places, stop doing things. Everything needs to be about the baby. So am I supposed to just stop existing except as a mother? I don’t know how to blend those things! And I want to work, I need to work, because I’m good at it but I’m not good at a having a baby like this and then at least if I fail as a mother, maybe I can make the baby proud as a nurse.”

This said, you leaned heavily against his shoulder again, a hollow ache where the words were no longer bricked up inside you.

After a while, Jungkook sighed, “I don’t know anything about it either. You know a lot about babies and I don’t know anything. But I think we’re going to be a happy family. I know it. We’ll do our best and love each other and I think that’s enough. All I ever wanted was to know my parents loved me.”

“I don’t know if my parents loved me,” you admitted, “I guess they did. But I don’t think they liked me very much.”

“I think we’ll like our baby.”

“I think so too,” you readily agreed. “It’s just that… everything is about to change. I’m so excited to meet this baby but I’m so fucking scared of getting this baby out,” you admitted with a small laugh. “And then… then what?”

He let out a deep breath and admitted, “I didn’t know you were scared about it too.”

“Of course I’m scared about it. You are?”

“Yeah.”

“You just act so… confident about everything. You take such good care of me and you remember everything and you’ve worked so hard on the nursery. You wanted this baby so bad, you were ready. I mean, I want it too! It’s just that the closer we get, the more I worry, am I really ready? What if I lose myself? I just become someone’s mom, nothing more… what if that’s not enough for me?”

“You will always be more than that,” he corrected. “Our baby has a busy mother. That’s ok. We said that. When you want to go back to work, if we need someone home with the baby still, I can do it. Why does it have to be the mom who stays home?” You had said that, as you’d imagined the many different ways your future could look. You didn’t know if Jungkook had been serious about that, about his willingness to stay home. You didn’t think you could bear the guilt of leaving your baby home, failing as a mother like that --you were supposed to want to stay home, weren’t you? And maybe you would want that! And maybe he wouldn’t want to! You couldn’t say because you just didn’t know what to expect!

“How can you say you’re scared when you sound so certain about everything?” you sighed enviously.

“I know we will figure it out. I can do anything with you in my corner and I’m in your corner so… we’ll be good.”

“Really? A boxing reference?”

You felt his smile as he kissed your jaw and shifted on the couch so he could drag the blanket over you both.

“Yes,” he said. “I know more about boxing than about babies but I will work harder at this than anything in my life. Together we’ll make it work. Not everything will change.”

“Are you going to say we’ll still have each other?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. His fingers were softly stroking your jaw. “I worry about things too. You’ll love the baby and forget about me…”

“I won’t,” you gasped, leaning away and staring into his face. “You’re my love, my mate, my partner. The baby won’t replace you!” He did not actually look too worried about it though.

“A little bit in the beginning. Taehyung talks to me about it. But I know you love me and you need me and it’s like that for me and we are two strong people, we can handle a baby,” he grinned. “A baby is little. We can win.” It made you smile, even laugh a little.

“Yeah, what’s one small baby against us, huh?” You leaned back against his shoulder and clung to his faith in you as a mother, his confidence you could figure this out. You wanted to be as certain, but you were still scared. What if you were wildly inept? What if the baby didn’t like you, or you struggled to love it, or you grew bitter about the career sacrifices that would have to happen to make sure the child came first as it deserved? What if you didn’t like being home with it? What if --as you had once feared-- mothering just wasn’t a thing that came naturally to you? Anytime you had hinted at that fear with Yejin or Helene or your grandmother, they’d laughed: you are full of love; you don’t have to be exactly like any other mother, but you are going to be a wonderful mother to your own wonderful baby because you have been a healing mother to so many people already. 

“You’re going to be such a wonderful father, Jungkook. You are strong and soft and wonderful in all the right ways.”

“Everything I know I learned from you,” he prodded. 

“That’s not true, but thank you.” You kissed the warm side of his neck. “Now what can you tell me to make me feel better about the pain of childbirth?”

“You are the strongest woman I know--”

“No no, that doesn’t work.”

“Drugs,” he said. “Lots of drugs. Epidural, yeah? Yeah.”

“We’ll see, I don’t know… I just don’t know anything, Jungkook.”

“You know a lot, Y/N. You just care a lot too.”

“I do care a lot.”

“I know. So it’s ok.” He rubbed his nose against yours and nipped again, kissed down your cheek and nipped your jaw. It was crazy how used to this form of comfort you had become over the years; you craved it when you were stressed or upset. You let your head fall back so he could nip along your neck. The mental image came again, of Jungkook nuzzling and cuddling your baby like this, you draped around them. It was the thought that had finally changed your mind on having a baby, too, the certainty that Jungkook was going to be a very, very good father, and that you would do your best to keep up. 

You sighed, going limp in his arms, until he finally ran his nose up to your ear.

“Sleepy jagiya,” he murmured. 

“Mm-hm.”

“I’ll carry you to bed?”

“Mm-hm, ok,” you conceded, knowing he took great pride in still lifting you with the additional weight. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you to the bedroom. “Wait, are you almost finished with the nursery? I want to see.”

“Later. Rest first. The nursery will still be there.”

“But you’re working so hard on it--”

“You are working even harder,” he argued. “Now you need to rest.”

“Do you think that tone will work with our child?”

“I sure hope so.”

“Me too,” you laughed, and let it work with you now, especially since he let you pull him down to the bed to nap with him. Tangled in his arms and legs, you felt better. Almost like you could do this, at least if you had him by your side, and all your friends who had overreacted today because they cared. Maybe, if you tried really hard, this could all be enough for the baby.

“Everyone just wants to be loved,” you whispered to yourself.

“You overflow with love,” Jungkook whispered back. “It’s not a concern.” He sounded so serious about it, so certain. It was the last reassurance you needed to curl up on your side, pillow stuffed between your knees to cushion your joints, and fall asleep.

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

Damn. Damn he had been an idiot. Jungkook sat in the chair beside your  hospital bed, the plastic tub with your baby inside boxing him in, and stared at the wall. 

Damn, he had gotten everything so very wrong.

He was in shock. He knew that. He remembered the feeling of getting dragged from a fire and tossed into a cold pool, the way your skin tingled and your lungs burned and your eyes ached to close for a while, the way you were sweaty and cold at the same time. 

Had it all really happened? Really?

He glanced at the bassinet and couldn’t believe it was a real baby inside. He ought to be holding it but it was asleep and he didn’t want to disturb it, even though you had begged him to hold it while you slept, afraid it would feel cold and lonely. Your faith in him had been astonishing; seeing how much strength you took from him was incredible and he felt completely insufficient for it. What good had he been? No good, not good for a single fucking thing!

Sure, he’d held your arm as you paced through your contractions. He’d held your hips and pushed into your lower back as you had used the baby crib he’d built to help you sway through the worst of the pain. It had made him sick to see you in pain but he’d bitten that back and done his best to walk you through every survival method he knew.

Sure, he’d maintained his calm as he drove you to the hospital, and held your hand through checking in, and only snapped a little when the nurses were taking too long getting you into a room. He’d been calm and thorough about attending to your every need, desperate to do anything when it seemed like his options to help you were limited. This is normal, the nurse had assured you. Just a few hours and then you’ll have your baby.

But the hours dragged on. And on. And on. Your pain broke him, froze him, re-animated him. The nurses didn’t like him, he knew that, because he didn’t have any patience for their glacial pace when you needed something. He didn’t like how they could be chatting and laughing and happy while checking your’s and the baby’s vitals, not when you would curl forward, trying to escape the contractions. Pain was inescapable, and having to watch you go through it… it was too much. He had not been prepared for how terrible it would be. He’d been so focused on the baby and taking care of you throughout your pregnancy that he hadn’t worried enough about this part. He’d trusted too much the idea that women did this all the time. It had left him unprepared for the gut-wrenching agony of watching you suffer.

And then things got worse. The baby wasn’t moving. Your water had broken too long ago and you were starting to get a fever and the baby was being stubborn. Oh no, he’s going to be like me, Jungkook had fretted, long past rational thought at this point. He’d stood dumbly by as the nurses and doctor and you had discussed, as they’d tried to ask him his opinion, as he’d only nodded and motioned to whatever you said without understanding what was happening because internally he was panicking and this time you couldn’t soothe him through it.

Sure, he’d walked behind the gurney as they’d carted you down to surgery. He’d put on the gown and mask and papery hat and stood by your head, where the nurses nudged him. He’d held your hand, unable to look away from the exhaustion and fear on your face as they raised a curtain to perform the surgery out of your view. Surgery. Real surgery. He’d seen into your body as the doctors lifted a baby out of you.  You had cried as the baby screamed and he just stared, too slow and unresponsive to even cut the cord. He had expected to immediately recognize the baby’s scream, but it was just a noise, not even a very concerning one at the moment. He’d watched you nuzzle the baby under your chin, a swollen, red, angry baby that looked nothing like he’d imagined other than the dark hair like his own. He’d even touched your face to reassure you, pulled your gown back into place where it had been knocked around in the chaos; but even that had been wrong, you’d been trying to unsnap it so you could hold the baby against the warm skin of your chest. You already knew what to do with your upset child. The baby had drawn his attention less than the long line of stitches being sewn into your lower belly; you would have a big scar, a reminder of what he’d watched you endure.

Things were blurry after that. You were drugged in a way that scared him, but your attention was so focused on the baby that his fear didn’t matter right now much anyway. You were taken to a recovery room, the baby was looked at, everyone was said to be healthy and fine. Jungkook had called some people, his parents, your grandparents, Jimin. He hadn’t been able to tell them much except that everything was apparently fine, confused when they asked if he was all right and if you had named the baby yet.

The baby twitched in its cubby. He peeked down, but the baby settled back to sleep so he didn’t touch it. When he leaned back in his chair, he read the card on the side again: Baby Girl Jeon, DOB 2-24.

A girl! Even the baby had turned out different than his expectations for what “becoming parents” would go like. A girl…

He stared at the wall and wished he could fall asleep but knew it wouldn’t come. He felt like he’d been through the worst fight of his career. He felt like he’d been through a war. In reality, he felt nothing, just sat there shocked about it all and wondering how he could be so useless and how his expectations had been so fucking wrong.

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

He must have drifted off again without realizing it, because noise in the room woke him. He was embarrassed to find he’d failed even as a guard; two nurses were helping you sit up while a third finished changing the baby’s tiny diaper. This kept happening. He was trying his best to stay awake, so he could be on hand to get anything you needed --ice, water, applejuice, more blankets, more pillows, move the pillows, turn on the TV, turn off the TV. The pain from your incision definitely was worse the next day, and they took your catheter out but you needed help walking to the bathroom. You were slow and fragile-seeming and it terrified him, and so he wanted to be always on hand to help you.

But once again he’d fallen asleep in that uncomfortable chair, tricked into it by his own tired brain. 

Quickly he sat up, leaning close on the edge of the bed, but you didn’t seem upset with him about sleeping. You scratched his jaw and smiled at him, then held your arms out as the nurse lowered the baby into them. Whatever pain or lingering trauma you must have from giving birth in that manner, you seemed utterly distracted from it whenever the baby was near.

“Isn’t she perfect?” you whispered. He watched you stroke the baby’s downy black ears, still paperthin and folded up, just barely poking out of the shock of dark hair. The baby looked up at you with dark eyes beneath a heavy brow; very much like the baby pictures Jungkook’s mother had texted you to compare earlier this morning. He worried the baby might have his nose too, and how would that look on a little girl? 

“Well I think she is,” you cooed, making him realize he hadn’t answered yet.

“She’s small,” he said. No, that wasn’t good enough. “She…”

“Are you disappointed?”

“Huh?”

“I know you wanted a boy,” you said. He didn’t have to see your face to hear the threat of tears.

“No,” he said quickly. “I’m not disappointed. I’m just… surprised.” He leaned down on the bed beside you, watching the baby, trying to feel that connection he had hoped would come immediately. Even seeing his own image reflected back at him in tiny ways didn’t make him look at this infant and know anything more about it than he had when it was still tucked away in your stomach. Logically he knew the baby would grow and get more personality and someday be walking and talking like Taehyung’s kids but… He realized you were watching him stare at the baby, so he added, “I don’t know anything about little girls.”

“You don’t know what a little boy would have been like either,” you argued, the same argument you’d had while pregnant. “A girl could still like cars and fighting and--”

“I don’t want anyone to like fighting.”

“--And a boy might have liked dolls and tea parties.”

“I know that,” he insisted. “It’s not important, Y/N. I’m not disappointed.”

“You can’t be disappointed. She’s perfect.” You hooked your finger into a tiny fist. The baby smacked its lips and wriggled in its blanket, curling closer to your chest and nodding off. Apparently eating and a diaper change had been too much excitement and worn it out. 

“I’m not disappointed,” he insisted again. “Are you?”

“No. What? Why would I be disappointed?”

“Ears. Tail.”

“Yes, my daughter is a hybrid, so? So is my mate”

Jungkook nodded but secretly didn’t believe you. You were drugged and tired and not thinking about it because you couldn’t actually be that oblivious. With a human mother, the baby would qualify for human citizenship, but with hybrid features, it would face the same barriers Jungkook did. Even though you had spent your life working with hybrids, you could still move fluidly between the worlds. You didn’t understand. He had hoped his child would be spared this; some mixed children didn’t even have the ears of their hybrid parent, apparently the most dominant of hybrid features. He had hoped his child would just be a boy copy of you. That would have been the best, easiest future. This child… he just didn’t know how he was possibly supposed to protect it. He’d barely managed to protect you for the last nine months.

“I know I don’t know what it’s like to be a hybrid,” you said, once again making Jungkook suspect you had secret mind-reading abilities. “And I wouldn’t wish any struggles on my own child. But I’ve spent my life trying to make this world a better place for hybrids, and now I’ll keep fighting that fight to make it a better place for our daughter. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy and healthy. She’s beautiful and I wouldn’t change a thing about her, certainly not to make her look less like my handsome mate.”

He pressed his face to your arm, only to be stunned when you added, “Please don’t scent me though until you’re willing to scent her too.”

“What?”

“You haven’t yet.”

“She’s so small,” he defended.

“Ok. But usually hybrids scent their babies right away--”

“You aren’t a hybrid, don’t lecture me.”

You went silent. He cringed. You nodded and he could feel the weight of your swallow, the way you bit back tears.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to your arm. But you had said not to scent you, so he didn’t. He should scent the baby instead but he’d said the truth. It was so small. A boy baby would have been bigger, right? Sturdier? The boy baby he’d seen in his head was bigger.

He wasn’t soothed by your answer, “I know.” It felt like there was a but in there. But… you aren’t being the partner I need. But… you aren’t being a good father. But… you don’t belong here in this human hospital. But… it’s your fault I had to go through all this pain. But… it’s your fault our baby has dog ears and a dog tail and will never look just like every other little girl. 

“Can I get you anything?” he asked. It was lame, a lame attempt to still be useful to you.

“My stitches are hurting pretty bad,” you admitted. “Can you ask the nurse when I can have more pain medicine?” 

That he could do. He rose swiftly and headed for the door, but paused and looked back. He watched you stroke the little head one more time and kiss it, then gently tug a yellow hat down over the tiny head. He heard your sniffle from the door. You thought he hated the baby. He didn’t hate it! He just didn’t know it!

Fuck. He was failing. He’d been a father for less than forty-eight hours and already he was failing.

In his panic, he forgot about the medication. He blanked on it completely, he got distracted by his own frustrations, and he left the hospital to go for a jog to clear his mind. He’d come back a new man, he would! He psyched himself up about all the things he’d do better when he got back from his jog. He’d change diapers! He’d have the nurse show him again how to swaddle! He’d start writing down your medication times so he could keep it up when you went home and there wasn’t another nurse there doing it for you-- fuck, your medication!

He turned and jogged back to the hospital, determined for a better round two.

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

The hospital had not let you stay long. Three days didn’t feel like long enough, and Jungkook had tried to argue with the doctor about it, but you already knew the lines the doctor responded with. You were healthy and your sutures were healing nicely. The baby was healthy and even eating nicely. You were a nurse, living in a sanctuary with other medical staff nearby. Jungkook was even suddenly being more helpful! He hadn’t scented you daughter yet, but he was changing diapers now, doing his best to swaddle the baby in a blanket, and even watched over her closely when you slept. You would wake that final day and night to see him staring down at the baby, or even reaching out a finger to touch her little cheek, and while it wasn’t scenting, it looked more like acceptance.

So there was no reason to stay longer in the hospital other than your own fear over the reality that you and Jungkook were actually parents now, parents with a baby to take care of, with the added complication that you were recovering from more of a surgery than you had expected. Of course you had known there was a risk of Cesarean. You had wanted to avoid it, to avoid the additional healing process. But by the time the doctor decided it was time, you’d had no fight left in you and had known it was the right call, for your baby’s safety and your own. 

But it didn’t mean you were ready to look at the steri-strips and long scar any more than you had to right now. Your saggy tummy, your painfully swollen breasts and aching nipples and the constant sense you were peeing yourself, none of mattered right now because your body had worked hard and deserved some love and patience. The birth already felt like a dream, except for that damn incision. Besides, you had a beautiful baby who needed you right now.

All of you. Mi-Cha never didn’t need you. If Mi-cha wasn’t on you in some way, she was screaming. Awake? Needs to be held against your heart or tucked under your chin. Asleep? Needs to be held against your heart or tucked under your chin. She might allow you to lay down in bed with her and sleep with Mi-Cha curled up in your armpit, but you were terrified of rolling over and crushing her, which meant Jungkook had to sit there and supervise. 

Poor Jungkook. Poor yourself too, sure, you were exhausted beyond all exhaustion, but at least there was something sweet about the baby clinging so desperately to you. Jungkook tried to be present and helpful and give you a break and it only ever led to screaming, and those little newborn shrieks inevitably led to you bursting into your own frantic tears. Every time he offered to take the baby so you could try to sleep, you could see him bracing himself for the unfailing shrieks. You certainly couldn’t fall asleep like that, but you could shower or quickly eat something or at least change your clothes. Maybe your hygiene wasn’t the best but hey, newborn babies loved the scent of their mama, right?

It was no way to live though. It couldn’t last. After only three days of this, you were nearing a breakdown and you knew it and couldn’t see an end in sight. Jungkook’s parents wouldn’t be here until the end of the following week and they wouldn’t be wizards with a baby. Maya and Ana had both come by, called by you to check the baby and make sure you weren’t missing something wrong because you felt incompetent over how much your daughter cried. It wasn’t like Mi-Cha always just stopped immediately crying as soon as you held her, once she got going about your betrayal for setting her down, or because you failed to anticipate whatever she wanted but couldn’t communicate yet. She was fussy and demanding and beautiful but you felt like your little family was already failing. 

So on day three, it was back to the pediatrician for a second visit for another verification that nothing was wrong. Nope. Mi-Cha was gaining weight at a good clip. She responded properly to stimuli and didn’t react to any presses on her tummy or head or tail. Gas was suggested and you were given drops to coax into her and told to keep trying, sometimes babies just took time to settle into a routine. 

But at home it continued. Jungkook offered to help less, knowing it didn’t do any good, and probably because he was exhausted having his own child scream at him and reject him. It was particularly problematic since you were more convinced by the day that Jungkook hated the baby anyway. It wasn’t a boy. It looked like him. It had puppy ears and a tail and just wasn’t what he meant when he said he wanted a baby. Frankly, his rejection hurt you too, after you worked so long and hard to make this baby. It drove a wedge between you. It had only been four days but it felt like a week had passed and you couldn’t help but feel like your lives had been ruined.

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

“Mi-Cha,” you sang, badly because you were exhausted and had no energy or mental stamina to carry a tune. “Mi-cha, Mi-cha, sweetest lovely Mi-Cha, take a little nap so your mommy can do it too.” You cradled the baby in the crook of your elbow as you tried to unwrap a granola bar because heaven forbid you put Mi-Cha down for a moment. Your hands were shaking at your daughter’s angry shouts regardless, but you thought if you could just eat something you would get a second wind. Or, well, a fiftieth wind. A hundredth wind?

Jungkook watched you from the doorway, reading all of these things, but not sure how to help. His feelings of helplessness had only grown since coming home, watching you get dragged further under the demands of a newborn. You were both exhausted, but he knew you were carrying more of the weight right now and he didn’t know what to do. Belatedly, he realized he could at least open the fucking granola bar for you and dove forward. But Mi-Cha was already angry she’d been held wrong for too long, so by the time he handed the granola bar over, you were crying quietly beneath Mi-Cha’s wail. He held the granola bar up, trying to give you an encouraging smile and knowing he failed.

At that moment, your phone buzzed itself off the kitchen counter and landed perfectly on his foot. He cursed and grabbed it. His mother. Well, he could at least take care of that. He showed you the caller ID and wasn’t surprised by the way your expression sank. But he quickly grabbed the phone away and left the room, answering, making clear to you he would deal with it. His mother had been calling daily, trying to be helpful but adding stress already, even though she and Appa weren’t coming to visit until the end of next week.

“Eomeoni, hello,” he greeted, making sure she could hear the baby in the background before he closed himself into the bedroom. 

“Mi-Cha has strong lungs,” she mused.

“She has strong everything,” he sighed. “Strong lungs, strong demands, strong complaints.”

He could hear the amusement in her voice as she said, “Yes, yes, a new baby is difficult. You were hard for us, too, so hard. It takes me back. You sounded just like that. Do all babies sound like it? I don’t think so, I think I know she’s mine by her cry.” He slumped on the edge of the bed, closing his eyes. It was sweet that his parents were so excited about Mi-Cha. While he felt like there would always be a pebble in the shoe of their relationship, their instant love and adoration for the granddaughter they hadn’t even met yet had felt like a new layer of healing over old wounds. But right now, his mother’s sympathy didn’t solve the problem and he was so tired he could barely follow her.

“... so every day after lunch your father would come home from work early and take you so I could sleep for a few hours, and then he’d do it again at midnight. It was odd hours but you just wouldn’t accept anything else; even as a new baby, you had an idea of how the house was going to go!” It was interesting to hear that, seeing as his own memories of childhood didn’t recall his parents being pushovers to his whims. 

But something else caught him, and he asked, “Did Appa have any special tricks? Mi-Cha won’t let go of Y/N. She wants nothing to do with me. I know a mother is the most important but--”

“Appa!” she called, her voice loud through the phone as she forgot to pull away. Jungkook flinched. “Appa! Talk to your son, he wants to know a father thing. I don’t know what you did to Gukka so he’d be quiet with you when he was a-- yes, talk to him.”

The phone changed hands and Jungkook rubbed his forehead as Appa greeted him, asked about the baby, asked about you, and only then said, “Yes, ok, what is the question?”

“Eomeoni says when I was baby, you would take me so she could sleep. Y/N needs to sleep but Mi-Cha just screams all the time. How did you do it?”

“Oh, well, I… I didn’t do anything remarkable,” he said, sounding confused by it. “You were a good baby. We’d just do our thing, father and son.” Jungkook physically cringed, it hurt his stomach; he realized he hadn’t eaten in a while either. He needed to make something better for you both to eat than granola bars and cold noodles. 

“I don’t have a son,” he said, sharper than he would have meant on a normal day.

“Yeah, we didn’t use our dongles!” Appa laughed, loud and easy and relaxed. “What’s different? You can tell me. I kept you and your eomma scented well enough. I’d bundle you up in a little sash against my chest, and off we’d go!”

“Go where?” Jungkook asked, brow lowering. 

“Oh, we just walked. We walked and walked, it was nice,” Appa said. “We watched the leaves change and we’d walk to get fresh bread or rice cakes from the shops. You’d cook with me or sometimes we’d watch TV together if it rained…”

That was the thing. That was the thing Jungkook hadn’t tried yet. He’d been waiting until things felt better, until he felt a connection with Mi-Cha, until he felt like she wanted him to be near her, but now Appa had him wondering if he’d gotten the most obvious thing wrong. 

“I have to go, Appa,” he abruptly said. “Thank you. Tell Eomma thank you.” He hung up before anything else could delay and hoped his parents would understand.

He hurried to the nursery, where he could hear you mumbling to Mi-Cha through the closed door. You looked over from the window where you swayed with Mi-Cha under your chin when he flung the door open, and it struck him again how tired his poor love looked. 

“Go sleep, jagiya,” he said, striding forward. You gave him a crooked smile, certain he was joking. But he was determined to give it a solid effort and pressed his face to your neck.

“Gukka--”

“Shh, jagiya, I’ll scent her in a moment. Let her smell me on you first,” he murmured, nipping his way along your neck, rubbing his nose and chin. Even just that eased the tension in his shoulders he’d started to grow used to again; touching you so closely soothed him, like he too was a needy little baby unwillingly separated from warm, soft, wonderful you. Maybe you felt the same; you sighed and lifted your chin, the saddest little whimper coming from you he’d ever heard. He wrapped his arms around you, embracing Mi-Cha in between, something that usually made her cry but right now she stayed silent.

Because he could, he kissed your chin and your nose and your mouth, a real kiss, the first real one since Mi-Cha had been born. 

“We’ll try this,” he murmured. “Maybe it will work.”

“What will work?”

“I’ll take better care of my girls,” he said. Vague, but you didn’t protest as he dragged his mouth down the other side of your neck, and along your shoulders, and then lower, to the soft little head cradled against your chest. 

“You too, Mi-Cha,” he said gently, brushing his nose as carefully as could be against the back of her head. She smelled like fresh laundry and newness and warmth and some extra thing that was uniquely her, though tied to himself and you. He could recognize this baby anywhere already, he knew that; he could pick her clothing out of a pile, no problem; he could find her no matter how far she wandered once she was mobile.

But now he added his scent directly to her, strong, so there’d be no question about the slight thread of relation. He pressed it to the back of her head and her little shoulder and her arm and leg and her back. You twisted her the other way and he worked his way back up, even peppered little kisses against her face and hair because she wasn’t crying about him being so close. He felt affection blossom in his chest. She wasn’t asleep, but she just lay there quietly under this, as if it was something she wasn’t sure of but understood had to happen. Her wispy hair stuck out funny around her little ears, which had already gained some shape but now looked more like little cat ears. They’d grow fast, he knew, and soon flop like his had in his baby pictures. And probably someday, maybe after puberty, they’d grow a little more, get some more shape to them, and no one would ever cut or tear them. No one would ever touch her little tail, which suddenly brushed against his hand.

“Was that a wag?!” you gasped, noticing it too. “It can’t be! That milestone isn’t until like a month.”

“I don’t know if it was that,” he admitted, but grinned because he’d instantly thought so too, just a little tap like that. “Still, it means she’s strong… Let me try…” Your eyes went wide. You both held your breaths as Jungkook lifted Mi-Cha out of your hold and instead tucked her under his own chin. 

“Shhhh. Hello, Mi-Cha,” he said quietly. He froze, worried the rumble of his voice in his chest would set her off, but she didn’t make a peep.

“She’s still awake,” you said. “But…”

“But she’s not crying.”

“It worked!” you squealed. You pressed your hand to Mi-Cha’s back, adding your own soothing, “There you go, sweet girl. Appa has you now. See? You’re safe and happy with Appa.”

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Go.”

“What?”

“Go sleep! I’ve got her.”

“Oh my god.” You stared at him, like this hadn’t even occurred to you. “Oh my god!” You pressed your hand to your mouth, then kissed them each on the cheek, then fled the room, shuffling as quickly as you could so recently after giving birth. It was almost enough to make him laugh; he could hear the weight with which you hit the bed in their bedroom, like you’d jumped onto it so nothing could pull you back. He hoped you hadn’t actually done that; your incision was still healing!

Mi-Cha stayed quiet beneath his chin. He could feel the tiniest flutter of her breath against his collarbone. But she was only wearing a diaper, freshly changed; you hadn’t dressed her yet and he worried Mi-Cha would be cold in these final days of February, even though the house was warm.

“Ok, princess pup,” he murmured, “You need clothes. Let’s see… let’s see…” He heard the tiniest chirp and bounced over to the small mirror so he could see her reflection. Her eyes were open, looking curiously around, like she was surprised by her own acceptance of this new situation. 

“Damn, you’re cute when you aren’t screaming,” he grinned because damn, he looked pretty cool holding a baby like this. 

It was tricky picking out new clothes for her without risking his grip on her. He wound up sliding her down to nestle in the crook of his arm, and while she refused to let you hold her like this, she deemed it acceptable with Jungkook. The drawers in the closet were full of baby things in all soft hues, though a few fun outfits in darker colors, mostly his friends poking fun of his own fashion style. He picked a cozy green knit sleeper and talked to her as he dressed her, since he had to put her down. She fussed about it, so he moved quickly, tucking in her little feet and little hands, careful that her tail curled comfortably up the back. Eomma had already said she was looking forward to doing all the clothing alterations when she arrived, so Mi-Cha could proudly show off her little tail. 

“You look like a little green bean,” he admitted, lifting her quickly so he could shuffle a swaddle sack into place and tuck her into it. He started to pull a hat on but she fussed enough he left it off. But he still worried her head would get cold, so he found a bigger hat, one that dwarfed her little head when he pulled it down, but she accepted that. “So cozy, so cute,” he narrated, snuggling her back down into his arms. “We won’t go far today for our first adventure. Just to the kitchen to get some food and then back here. We can sit in the comfy chair and watch the flowers grow,” he suggested. “Eomma isn’t far, she’s just sleeping…”

Even after he had eaten carefully around her and returned to ease into the nursery chair, Mi-Cha still hadn’t cried. He worried she’d be getting hungry, but instead her eyelids started to droop as he settled down with her, draping a blanket over them both. She curled up against his chest, little mouth opening and closing a few times in the tiniest yawn. His heart briefly stopped when her little covered hand pressed against his chest and she closed her eyes and dozed right off.

“I see,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Mi-Cha. You surprised me in every way. But I made you wait while I sorted my shit out and that’s not right. I’m your appa, it’s my job to make sure you are loved and safe even when you surprise me.” He hunched over to kiss her little nose and stroked her cheek. She looked asleep, her breathing a bit heavier, but he still assured her, “You are loved and safe and I don’t know anything about you yet other than that you’re mine, and that’s enough for now.” He hesitated, then grinned, “And I think you are maybe stubborn too.”

Jungkook had nowhere else to be and nothing else to do that was more important than rocking his daughter, holding her close while she slept, and letting his mate finally get some sleep before you murdered someone.

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

You woke slowly from you nap and stretched, mindful of the C-section scar out of habit though several months after surgery you were feeling pretty good. Your shirt had hiked up while you slept and you glanced down at the smile on your lower belly --that was how Jungkook had described it between kisses along the curve of it a week or so ago and the comparison had lingered. Not that you’d had any doubt, but a new scar was nothing unattractive to Jungkook, once he’d had a few good visits with his therapist to work through the trauma of childbirth. You had not realized ahead of time how upsetting that would be for him, but it explained too the first rough few days in which he’d kept his distance from the small baby whose birth had caused your pain, blinding him briefly to the much greater joy Mi-Cha brought.

You felt bad not to have anticipated that. But how could you have predicted the pain, the fear, the exhilaration, the euphoric joy of holding your fresh little newborn against your chest? Even thinking about it now, as you often did, made your fingers itch to grab those little thighs, brush back the little fluff of hair, or stroke along your daughter’s tail like you’d formed a habit of. Tail! You had known of course that your daughter could have some level of hybrid chimera. You hadn’t expected it to be strange to you after how much time you’d spent with hybrids and that was the only thing you’d predicted correctly: it didn’t seem unusual to you at all. Every centimeter of that baby was beloved and precious and perfect. You spent hours going over every bit of your baby, relishing in every dimple, every downy patch of hair, every little blink and hiccup and murmur. 

Fears that you would have a baby and not know what to do with it? Absolutely the truth, you still couldn’t believe you had a baby, and it still felt like you were living hour to hour trying to keep Mi-Cha fed, bathed, and entertained.

Fear that you would have a baby and not love it? Absolutely unfounded. Even once the baby was an impossible being in your arms, no longer a series of flickers and thuds within your belly, you’d loved her. Even when that tiny baby had pushed you to the brink of collapse, when you and Jungkook had cried together in shared frustration, even when Mi-Cha had ruined not one but two of your shirts with diaper explosions, even then your love had been unshakeable. Maybe not your nerves or patience, but your love.

Now the quiet house was disorienting, even though you knew it was nothing to be worried about. Jungkook took her out for a walk just about every day at this time, so you could have a rest before Jungkook would head out to the restaurant for his evening shift if he had one. You didn’t know how long he’d be gone or when he’d return so you sent him a quick text letting him know you were awake. 

[JK<3]: on my way how’s mi-cha doing? I miss her [Y/N]: very funny

You cut up an apple and wandered outside so you could watch Jungkook arrive. Sometimes they biked and sometimes they drove in a cart if you were going along but today he’d walked. With your apple slices cupped in your hand, you stood on the wooden front porch and watched him come down the road, a flowery sunbrella shielding himself and the baby from the spring sunshine. He was flushed and sweaty from the walk by the time he stepped up and Mi-Cha’s head turned side to side from where Jungkook had her wedged in the front carrier; she could obviously sense you.

“My sweet baby,” you cooed, leaning down into view and stroking her hair where the headband with the big black bow didn’t cover it. The bow matched the little romper she had on, black and red polka dots with an all-black diaper cover. She looked like a little ladybug and it was definitely not what you had put her in but Jungkook, you had learned, found a lot of enjoyment in carefully choosing Mi-Cha’s outfits for their walks. He liked her in matchy-sets, whereas you really just put on whatever was clean and within reach --because it usually didn’t stay clean for long. She’d developed pretty bad acid reflux, which meant she spit up a lot and preferred to be upright and held, none of which her daddy minded at all. He’d proclaim “Time for a wardrobe change” every time he hauled her off to clean her up.

“Where were you too off to today?” you asked as Jungkook brushed past you to toss the diaper bag down just inside the door. You always smiled to see it, because Seokjin had tried to buy him a sleek black leather “dad-bag” that even you had expected him to love, and Jungkook had gone off about how dads didn’t need separate bags and who cared if this one had yellow and green pastel polka dots, and if anyone had a problem with it they could fucking fight him. 

“Mr. Moon,” he answered. You helped him untie and unbutton and untwist to pull Mi-Cha out of the carrier and took a moment to cradle Mi-Cha to your chest and kiss and nuzzle her face. Even though no scent really got applied, Mi-Cha loved it, and Jungkook had assured you there was a little of your smell that transferred. Mi-Cha gurgled and kneaded her fingers against your shirt, her little tail thump-thumping against your arm. 

“How’s he doing?” you finally answered. Jungkook gave you a look that said enough. His health had continued to deteriorate; Alya had earned her nursing license just in time to become his full-time caretaker. You knew the end was going to be incredibly difficult for Jungkook, who’d taken to Mr. Moon like a long-lost grandson so long ago. You were glad he still spent his afternoons there with Mi-Cha so often. 

The sudden kiss surprised you from the sad thought, and you leaned into it, smiling as his fingers brushed your arm.

“Hm,” you hummed. “Hello.” His bashful smile melted your heart as he made to turn away, but you leaned forward for one more kiss. You had been working on this lately, making a point of physical affection with each other. Mi-Cha had dominated both of your attentions for almost three months now and that wasn’t going to stop any time soon, but you both had admitted that you missed each other. So you had agreed to kiss more, touch more, without reason or explanation.  “I love you,” you murmured, brushing your nose against his jaw.

“I love you too,” came the reply, still music to your ears. Mi-Cha chirped and squeaked, and immediately both parents looked down at her. 

“It was a good walk,” Jungkook said, brushing Mi-Cha’s ear with his finger. “She smiles a lot at other people. I think she’ll be bright like you.”

“Bright,” you repeated. “Such a cute way to say that. But you’re forgetting how moody she gets when she doesn’t get what she wants, or if there’s too much noise, or--”

“Her ears are sensitive.”

“Ya, I know about her ears,” you teased. “Come on, you should drink some water. She’s probably about ready to eat too, unless she had a bottle.”

“She had a bottle,” he confirmed. 

“Ah, what a good girl you were for daddy today,” you cooed, swaying and bouncing her as you walked inside. “Are you going to be so good for mommy tonight?”

“I’m not working tonight.”

“Oh. I forgot--”

“That’s ok. I wrote it down.”

“I’m sure you did. The days sort of run together right now…”

He gave you a sympathetic touch on the shoulder, knowing how doubly exhausting that was, and assured you, “It’s ok. We’ll have a nice night in… unless you want to go out?” You had gone to dinner at Hoseok’s and his fiance’s place the night before though, and eaten an early dinner at the main house the night before that. It turned out, maternity leave was only as lonely and isolating as you let it be here. You had feared your social support would evaporate once Jungkook’s parents went home after two weeks but you only had to lift your phone or step out your door to find a Sanctuary’s worth of family eager to help.

Mi-Cha’s little mouth pressed against your collarbone, little tongue lapping at your skin. For most babies, that meant hunger, a rooting response meant as a gentle, early threat. But Mi-Cha liked to make things a little complicated by having a second behavior that was similar but not identical to rooting. Her little mouth latching onto something that was very clearly not a nipple for this adorable and maybe odd child meant she was sleepy. 

“Ah, she’s worn out,” Jungkook sighed, stepping close and touching her back as well as yours. “She was very busy at Mr. Moon’s…”

“Doing what? Is she finally painting?”

He snickered and corrected, “Looking, listening, fussing, holding onto pencils and paintbrushes we put in her hand.”

“Trying to make her a little protegee?” 

He looked serious as he answered, “No, no. We’ll see if she likes painting. She doesn’t have to like painting.” Mi-Cha sucked a little harder, then pulled off and let out a warning fuss.

“All right, sweet one,” you apologized. “Let’s check your diaper and then to sleep.”

“I just changed her, I think she’s fine,” Jungkook insisted, leaning down to sniff her diaper. It was more a gesture than anything though; he could always tell the second she was wet or poopy, even from across the house. At first you had envied him this immediate recognition, but there had been enough really bad diapers that had left Jungkook looking pretty green that now you thought your human sense of smell was maybe not such a bad thing. 

Together you went to the nursery. Despite Jungkook just spending the whole afternoon with Mi-Cha, you could sense his eagerness to still hold her. You felt the same way, desperate to keep that soft, warm little body close after your arms had been empty for that same time; you’d felt the emptiness even in sleep. Even now when you napped, you would sometimes startle awake, reaching for a baby you had dreamed was falling, only to realize no baby was there, and you wouldn’t have left Mi-Cha in a dangerous place to begin with.

So you motioned Jungkook to the glider, then curled up on his lap with Mi-Cha tucked in with you. The deep sigh from Jungkook left no secret how happy he was to have both his girls close. Both his girls. You melted every time you heard him say that. How silly of him to have doubted he could figure out a baby girl, as he’d admitted to you. Those fears hadn’t completely left him, but you knew and he tried to believe you that he’d figure out any other “daughter demands” just like he had changing a daughter’s diaper. He even had a little song he sang to Mi-Cha when he did it! Front to back, just like that; wipe wipe wipe, hush don’t gripe; clean the way, tummy to tail, and then put-a-new-diaper-on-quick-before-you-pee-on-me-again. 

Jungkook was right about one thing regarding Mi-Cha: her emotions were bright and loud and she didn’t hide them. She felt safe and comfortable and loved, you were certain that was why she was so forthright with her happiness, her impatience, and her tiny baby rage that sometimes poked out. Mostly though she was happy, and it showed in the steady little flick of that tail and the curve of her mouth into a sleepy smile as she chomped down on the pacifier Jungkook had finally been convinced would not doom her teeth for life before they’d even grown in. 

“She’s so perfect,” you sighed, an infinite refrain. “I think she’s even prettier now that we get to sleep sometimes.” Jungkook rocked you slowly and brushed his finger against Mi-Cha’s thigh, making her twitch and kick and curl closer to your chest, as if seeking protection. “Let her sleep,” you jokingly scolded.

“Ah, it’s boring when she sleeps, I think…”

“I know,” you admitted. “At least you got to see her all afternoon, I was just asleep and now she’s going to sleep.” Your low voices didn’t seem to bother your daughter at all; she was used to this, after all, being cradled by both her parents as she dozed off. Jungkook’s mother thought they were crazy to let the bedtime routine be so long and drawn out and maybe you’d regret it eventually, but right now, just holding her as she fell asleep was so perfect.

“You were up with her at four-thirty in the morning,” Jungkook pointed out. “After she was already up at one.”

“Yeah… someday when she’s all grown up, we should wake her up as much as she wakes us up.”

“She won’t think we’re as cute as we think she is,” Jungkook pointed out.

“That’s sort of the point of revenge.”

He chuckled and turned the glider slowly so you could see out the window, angled so Mi-Cha’s face stayed in the shadows. Sitting in this glider, watching the flowers erupt from their winter slumber during the early weeks home with Mi-Cha had been magical and surreal. You would never think of early spring the same way again. It would now always remind you of those early days of parenthood with Jungkook by your side. 

“I hope the flowers are still beautiful for her 100 Day celebration,” you mused. Jungkook’s parents would be back again next week and your grandparents were flying in to meet her for the very first time --later than they had hoped, after you grandfather had been too sick to travel after contracting some disease at the site of their latest sanctuary project. He’d pulled through fine but it had scared you; the party would be emotional for many reasons.

“Shhhh.”

“Huh?”

“You are stressed about it,” Jungkook observed. “I know. But it doesn’t matter. No one will notice the flowers because they will just notice Mi-Cha. And no one will care if the party isn’t perfect because it will be just because we’re together.”

“When did you get so wise?” you teased.

“I’m a father now, I’m supposed to be wise.” At your glare, he grinned, “I know you. I know you want to do things to show you care but she knows. I know. Everyone knows.”

“That’s rich coming from the man who gets her dressed for the runway just for a walk down the street,” you teased.

“She likes it,” he defended, carefully reaching around to gently pull the bow off their sleeping baby’s head so she could rest more comfortably. “I don’t like this one as much, I think it’s scratchy, but I think that’s why she likes it.”

“Do you think her ears are still dry?” you frowned, leaning in to look.

“I put the lotion on.”

“I know you did… maybe we should try an oil instead… they look good though. Maybe she just likes the bow,” you conceded. It amused you, thinking about Jungkook trying on different bows and hats and headbands for your infant daughter who couldn’t even sit up on her own. And then nodding as if she’d made her preference known. And then building an outfit around her choice. “You’re so cute, Jungkook.”

“I’m… whatever. I’m just-- it’s just whatever. I don’t mind bows, if that’s what she likes. Or whatever else she likes.”

“You’re not worried she’s going to be into fighting anymore?”

Jungkook tossed the bow over to the basket and answered, “Someday when the time is right, I’ll teach her just enough to make sure she never has to actually fight. Just enough to make someone stop if they’re bothering her. Just in case she’s like you and attracts trouble.”

“I don’t!” you defended. He grinned and kissed you breathless. “Unless you mean that you’re trouble. I sure attracted you.”

“It’s not a very good joke…”

“You’re a turd.”

“Don’t let our daughter hear that,” he playfully growled. “She has sensitive ears.”

You laughed and pressed your nose to his, your arms full of your daughter who’d melted into a warm little pile of mush when she’d fallen asleep, your heart full of love for both of these people.

“Is it as good as you dreamed after all?” you asked.

Jungkook’s furrowed brow could be felt against yours as he insisted, “You’re the dreamer, not me. I never can dream as good as things with you will be. I can’t dream good enough. Everything in our lives is… beyond.”

“Yeah,” you agreed before stealing one more kiss. “Everything in our lives is beyond.”

[flooffybits]

Heartbreaker

Idol: Choi Jisu (Itzy)

Being the messenger was always taxing, but somehow being the messenger got Jisu a package that she wasn’t expecting.

A/n: hello! first of all i don’t fully know much about skz so i apologize if this is inaccurate. also please thank our discord mallows for helping me create this little crack/fluff fic

☕buy me a coffee☕

"Hey, did you see the new girl on campus?"

Both people at the table looked up when the male had asked the question as he walked over, looking a little more chipper than usual before the pair shook their heads.

"My classes don't start until one, so I just got here a few minutes ago to study with Lia." The blond male replied while looking back at his notes. "She's in my literature class, really cute and creative." The brunette stated, earning a light roll of the eyes from the only female. "If she is new, I expect you to at least be friendly before you try anything, Jisung." She stated, putting her pen down and then resting her chin on her hand.

The boy huffed while taking a seat, though his mood doesn’t waver as he goes on. “I think you guys might see her in some classes? I’m not sure, but her name is Y/n.” Jisung explains and the pair look at him in defeat, knowing that he would go on until he finished. “She isn’t exactly eye catching, but I got to sit in front of her and thought that it would be nice to introduce myself to her.”

“That’s nice of you to do. How is she?” Jisu hummed, a little more interested to know since she’s sure that she’s heard the name somewhere before. “She’s really nice! A little timid since she said she isn’t too confident in her Korean.”

“Foreigner?” Hyunjin cocked his head and Jisung nodded in confirmation. “She’s been living here for two years. She only has her dad and I didn’t try asking about her mom since I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.” He added with his brows furrowed slightly and his friends can't help smiling at his thoughtfulness. “I’m sure she’s a nice girl.” Hyunjin grinned while patting his back and the other nodded happily.

“She is! I promise, you’re gonna love her if you meet her.”

And true to Jisung’s words, Hyunjin did meet you for his afternoon classes and was quick to pay attention when he found out who you were. He quickly understood your shyness and offered to be a friendly face in the sea of strangers.

“I was honestly a little surprised by you. Everyone else didn’t seem to want to bother with the new student.” You mention and the male shrugs his shoulders. “You seemed like you needed a friend, and Jisung happened to mention you when we were having lunch earlier.” He notices the way your expression brightens at the mention of his friend’s name and something doesn’t sit too well with him as he shifts in his seat.

“You’re friends with Jisung?” You ask and he nodded his head with a smile. “Yeah. We’re basically brothers. And we also have another friend, her name is Jisu, but most times we call her Lia.” He explained and you hum while nodding your head. “Choi Jisu?”

Hyunjin seemed a little surprised by your question, but he nodded either way before asking. “How do you know her?” You tap your pen against your notebook and rest your head against your other hand. “She’s my dorm mate, though I haven’t actually met her yet since I had a lot of stuff to deal with.” You explain sheepishly and Hyunjin gives you a cute little smile. "You're gonna love her."

..

"You're both being weird." Jisu comments while she writes down the answer for the problem she had been dealing with for the past few minutes.

Yet neither of her friends listen as they continue their little debate. "I'm telling you, the fair is the best way to welcome Y/n here!" But Jisung shook his head while scrolling through his phone. "A fair is too much! We don't want to overwhelm her." He argues and Hyunjin groans. "She'll have more fun at a fair than some museum."

Jisu had just been quietly listening to the pair go on while she did her homework, seeing that telling them to just ask you would only fall upon deaf ears, but she is surprised when her name comes falling from both their lips and she had to look up.

"What?"

"She's your roommate. You have a better idea of what she's like." Hyunjin tells her. "And you're both girls, so you have a better sense of what a girl likes." Jisung adds, his eyes almost pleading for the girl to side with him that she can't help but playfully roll her eyes. "We've talked, but we only really know the basics of each other."

"But you have a good judge of character." Jisu groans before resting her chin against her hand, looking thoughtful. "Well, I think she'd enjoy either. But if you want, I can ask her once we're at the dorm and then I'll text you?" She offers and the pair brighten up at her suggestion before nodding their heads that it makes her laugh a bit.

"You guys are so weird."

But she has no plans of replacing her friends no matter how weird they are.

"Hey, welcome back!" Jisu's surprised when she opens the door, still unaccustomed with having a roommate after getting used to being on her own for a while, but she figures it's a nice change.

"Hey, you're early today." She answers while setting her keys on the counter and you flash her a small grin. "My last class was canceled for today. My professor had an emergency at home, I think." You explain while leaning against the couch, laptop left open on the coffee table in front of you.

Jisu nods before moving to grab a bottle of water and then goes to sit down, leaving her bag hanging behind her chair. "Hey, are you going to be busy this weekend?" She suddenly asked, catching you a bit off guard since, to be honest, you weren't really expecting a question like that from your roommate. But you shake your head to answer her question.

"Well, not really. I was just planning on finishing up some of my homework and then familiarizing myself with the campus." You reply honestly while shrugging your shoulders.

There wasn't really much, plus this was a completely foreign area. You needed to know your way around and also look for the places you could, hopefully, use as a hangout place just so you didn't have to always stay in your dorm room like a hermit.

"You should join us, then." Jisu perked up, her smile only growing as you looked skeptical. "Hyunjin, Jisung and I are trying to decide whether we should go to the fair or a museum." She finally says, mentally patting herself on the back as she smoothly put the question out. "Though, which would you prefer to go to?"

You are pleasantly surprised, both by the offer and the way she's even taking your opinion into account, but something you've noted from your new dorm mate is that she's incredibly kind and thoughtful. It was no wonder she was friends with the other two. But you also didn't want to impose especially since the group didn't even know you.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind going to either, but I wouldn't want to suddenly tag along and ruin your guys' fun." You tell her and Jisu chuckles while shaking her head. "It's fine! They actually asked me to talk to you, since I thought you might not have many people to hang out with yet."

"Are you sure?" You ask her, hesitant, and Jisu giggles as she reaches for your hand to give it a light pat. "I promise, we'll be there for you."

There's something about her assurance that makes you feel warm. Her eyes disappear as her smile grows just a tad bit wider and you can't help but giggle at how cute she looks.

"Well, okay then. But where would you like to go though?" You return the question to her and this time, the tables have turned and Jisu wasn't quite sure what to answer, so she stutters out the first thing that comes to mind and she swears that she's a little bit stunned by the grin you shoot her way.

..

"Well, an aquarium is a little similar to a museum." Jisung commented while he looked up at the signs and Hyunjin pouted slightly, though wiped it away when he remembered that he would be seeing you in a little while. "It isn't the fair but the animals are kinda cute." He states while peering into one of the glass containers, giggling at the little jellyfish that floats by.

Both boys were a little disappointed that neither of their suggestions were picked, but seeing as they would be spending time with you, it was a fine decision. Plus, they did say they would go with whatever you would pick.

"Sorry for the wait! Y/n wanted to see some places on campus and we kinda lost track of time." Jisu apologizes when the two of you finally spot the pair and approach them with timid smiles on your faces.

Hyunjin shakes his head while shoving his hands in his pockets. "It's fine! Though, I hope you found whatever it was you were looking for?" He cocks his head to the side along with the question and you giggle at the adorable look on his face. "Yup! I had a great tour guide."

Jisu blushes in embarrassment while lightly smacking your arm. "Shut up. I only made sure you didn't get lost." She retorts, but you laugh nonetheless as she huffs at you and Jisung is happy that you're at least getting along with their little group.

"Well, how about we pick buddies so we don't get lost here?" He suggests coolly and Hyunjin shoots him a tiny glare when he realizes what his best friend is up to. Jisu can only really shake her head while you were none the wiser as you happily agreed.

"Great! Since you already spent the morning with Lia, how about we be buddies?" Hyunjin quickly asks before the other could even open his mouth and Jisung quickly pouts at you. "Hey, I should be Y/n's buddy. I befriended her first." He complained and Hyunjin turned his eyes to the brunette with furrowed brows. "What are you? Six? We'll still be a group." He retorted and Jisu had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing at their childish antics.

You just found the whole exchange entertaining, especially when Jisung turned to the female beside you. "Back me up here. We're twins, right?" Hyunjin looked baffled by the sudden attack before crossing his arms. "Since when the hell were you twins?"

"Ever since we were born!"

"She's older than you!"

"Unless you guys have come to an agreement." Jisu cut in on the pair's bickering. "Y/n and I are gonna go ahead." She announces and you giggle while waving with your free hand while your other arm is looped with Jisu's. "Don't get lost!" You called as you both walked away with hushed giggles before the boys quickly snapped their mouths shut.

They shot each other a glare before quickly following the two of you.

"This is your fault." Jisung groaned and the latter scoffed. "I was just being friendly." Hyunjin retorted as he pouted at the seals when they swam in his line of sight. "You did say it would be nice getting to know her." Jisung frowned while scuffing his shoe against the floor. "Yeah, but I wanted to hang out with her because I wanted to be closer with her."

The admission caused Hyunjin to stop in his tracks before he slowly turned to his friend, a slightly guilty look overcoming his own features as he let out a sigh. "Looks like we really do have a lot of things in common." He chuckled, unamused, before shaking his head at Jisung's puzzled face.

"I think… I like her." He says slowly, watching as his friend’s eyes widened before pursing his lips. “And it’s clear that you feel something for her, too.” Jisung frowned at that before he looked to the ground, contemplating on what to say before he looked back up to meet Hyunjin’s eyes with determination in his own. “Then we’ll both do what we can and let her choose. But whatever happens, we don’t let it ruin us.”

Hyunjin blinked slightly in surprise, but a smile eventually came to his features before he clasped the outstretched hand in front of him with his own, laughing a bit as he nodded in agreement. “May the best man win.”

When the pair find you and Jisu happily marveling at the seal’s section in the aquarium, your laughter fills the slightly crowded area while you both watch the seal wave at its audience before swimming away, only to be replaced by another playful one.

“You guys look like you’re enjoying yourselves.” Jisung comments with a smile and the two of you look back at the two boys. “Well, we are on a trip. And it’s nice to see you’re both still alive.” Jisu shoots back playfully, drawing another giggle from you. “Had fun?” You ask the duo and they look at each other before nodding. “Yep! But you guys ditched us.” Jisung pouts and Jisu can’t help but cringe while you smile lightly.

“Sorry, but you were too slow.” You tease while reaching to pinch his cheek and the male pouts more while playfully pushing your hand away, though he does make sure not to let go of it when you lower your hand and your other two friends raise a brow at his subtle action.

“You stole Lia away and left us for dead, how could you?” He whined while shaking your hand and you giggled at his reaction before patting his arm. “You guys are more than capable of dealing with a crowd like this, so I didn’t leave you for dead.”

“Anyway.” Jisu watches as her two friends seem to grow a sudden sense of competition but keeps her mouth shut even as Hyunjin slings an arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you away from Jisung’s grasp and successfully detaching your linked hands. “How about we grab something to eat? My feet are kinda tired and I’m hungry.”

It looked like that was something you could all agree on. Despite the fun that you all had walking around, none of you could deny that you were getting a bit hungry from all the excitement.

With his arm still around you, Hyunjin began leading your little group towards the area where food stalls were lined up, many friends and families loitering around as they seemed to be in the same predicament as you.

“So, what are you two up to, this time?” Jisu asks plainly without even bothering to look at the male walking beside her. She didn’t even have to look at him to know that he was sulking. “We’re trying to woo her.” He mumbled quietly and Jisu’s brows raised at his words before she shook her head.

“You guys are ridiculous, I swear.”

..

“Lia, can you give this to Y/n when you get back to your dorm?” Staring at the box in front of her, Jisu soon looked questioningly at her friend. Hyunjin smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s been busy with a project so I wanted to do something nice. She also mentioned that she liked these cookies so I thought it would at least cheer her up.” He explained while the female took the box and placed them on top of her books. “You didn’t think of just dropping by and handing them over, yourself?” She inquired and the male fiddled with the strap of his bag. “I didn’t want to be too much of a distraction.”

When he checks the time, he flashes her a smile. “My class is about to start, but I’ll see you later. Tell Y/n I said hi.” Jisu waved to the boy as he jogged off to a different building and it didn't take long before another person plopped down in front of her .

Honestly, Jisu was getting a little tired of her friends’ childishness because this had been going on for a good month and a half. Frankly? She was done playing their messenger.

But for the sake of their pride, she went along with it. She also wanted to see how long until they give up.

"What do you want me to hand over?" She asks, uninterested, and Jisung grins at her before handing the girl a stuffed animal, plus two drinks, making the girl look confused as she looks over the items.

"One is for you. I know that it gets tiring, but I also wanted to show you how much I appreciate it that you're doing this for Hyunjin and I." Jisung explains and Jisu softens slightly before she gives the boy a nudge. "You guys are stupid, do you know that?"

But even with her words, Jisung could feel the affection as he reached to give her a hug. "Just be careful with the plushie. I had no idea where to find it in the first place, but it's one of Y/n's favorite characters." He added, making Jisu look back down and nod her head. "Yeah, I know." 

"Roommate, right." He remembers before finally pulling back. "But anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Also, tell Y/n not to stress herself too much on her project. Make sure she's eating, too." He reminds and Jisu swears it feels like he's scolding her, too, because they all knew she had a tendency of forgetting to eat whenever she was too absorbed with her studies.

"You're sounding like a father." Jisu teased, laughing as Jisung shot her a playful glare. "Oh, shut up." He smiles before shaking his head and standing up. "Anyway, I have to get going. I promised Chan that I would help him with something, so I'll see you later."

When she's alone, Jisu lets out a small sigh before turning back to the gifts that she was once more tasked to deliver before huffing. Stuffing her things in her bag, she grabbed the box of cookies with one hand, plushie tucked under her arm, while the other grabbed the drinks.

"Unnie, you're a little late today." A short haired woman spoke up once Jisu entered the dorm building and stepped onto her floor.

Said girl smiled and shrugged her shoulders as the younger girl moved to help her carry the things she was holding. "Thank you." She muttered when she was relieved of the bit of extra weight. "Hyunjin and Jisung are busy and I have to study for a test, too." She replies while shaking her head as the other looked down at the things she had taken from her hands.

“Don’t even start, Ryujin.” Said girl merely raised her other hand in defense, looking amused. “I wasn’t even saying anything.” The younger girl defended, though the smirk on her face was already enough for Jisu to know what she wanted to tell her. "They'll get over it."

"You're hoping it's sooner than later." Ryujin quips when they walk over to her dorm room and Jisu frowns. "Okay, I admit it's exhausting, but they're happy at least. And I know that they aren't doing anything to jeopardize their friendship." She uses the same excuse, but Ryujin gives her a knowing look. "Feelings eventually grow or fade, unnie. If it's the former, her picking one is only going to make things worse no matter how much they say they're fine with it."

Jisu swears that she tries not to think of that, but in the very back of her mind, she knows it's true because she came to the same conclusion. If you decided to pick either of the two, the other would obviously be heartbroken and whatever would happen to their small group, she wasn't sure how she would deal with it.

"If they aren't ready to talk about it, maybe give Y/n unnie a little nudge and see who she likes more. Then go from there."

Jisu contemplates over the younger girl’s words for a good hour. She left your gifts on the table like usual while her own drink sat on the table situated beside her bed as she stared up at the ceiling.

"Hey." Your voice breaks through her thoughts, eyes squinting behind your glasses and Jisu forces herself to sit up and face you as you open the door a little wider. "I was calling you, but you weren't answering."

She can see the hesitance on your features, but the more she studies you, she realizes that she's gotten so used to seeing you in just a plain tee, comfortable shorts, and those cute little glasses that you wear only in the comfort of your dorm.

"Sorry, I was a little lost in thought." Her voice is hushed and you can't help but frown before padding over to the bed. Jisu scoots over to give you space to sit before she feels the bed dip slightly.

"You seem to be getting lost very frequently. Is something the matter?" You inquire and Jisu purses her lips because she isn't quite sure what to tell you.

Yes, something was bothering her. But the issue was, she wasn't sure what exactly it was.

She can see the genuine concern in your eyes and your voice pretty much gives it away. And as much as this wasn't anything new to her, it made her feel just a tad bit flattered.

"Do you…" She pauses and the words are at the tip of her tongue. So she licks her lips slightly before letting out a breath. "Do you like anyone?"

The surprise is clear on your face. But honestly, at that moment, Jisu was terrified to know the truth when she saw the way your cheeks flushed a bright red, obviously not expecting such a question.

However she isn't sure why she's dreading to hear one of her friends' names come spilling from your lips.

"Well, I…" You fiddle with your fingers, toying with the little ring wrapped around your right index finger, a gift she had given to solidify your friendship right after the aquarium hangout.

"I'm figuring it out."

.. 

"You seem chipper today." Jisu looks beside her to see Yeji giving her an odd look. The older girl cocked her head to the side, but Jisu just smiled while shrugging her shoulders. "What? Can't I enjoy class for once?" She rebuttals and Yeji seemed even more surprised by her response. 

"What did my brother promise you?" She prods and Jisu nearly rolled her eyes before giving her sit mate a light smack on the arm. "He didn't promise me anything. I'm just in a good mood."

"You having a good mood in Philosophy is a sign of the apocalypse."

"Shut up."

Even when the lecture started and time continued to tick by, Yeji kept glancing at her friend, whose smile refused to leave her face.

"You're starting to freak me out here, Lia." She whispers and said girl let out a huff. "Pay attention." But the latter had other plans she opted to go through with. "Come on, I thought we were friends."

Jisu felt the corners of her lips twitch at the latter's whining before she gave her friend a playful push. "I'll tell you later. For now, just pay attention."

Yeji was just about to continue whining, however the professor turned in their direction at the exact moment and she stiffened in her seat, making Jisu duck her head to hide her silent laughter.

Right as their class ended, Yeji was quick to hop to her feet and begin shaking her friend's arm when she was trying to collect her things. "Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

It honestly felt like Yeji was younger than her most times, but then again, she did have her own moments.

"Alright. Come on, let's go." 

The taller girl looked pretty confused by her words, but she followed Jisu out of the room and wasn't too surprised to see her brother and Jisung standing not too far away from them once they exited.

Hyunjin waved at his sister whilst she gave him a pout. "Lia has a secret and won't tell me yet." She complained, making the girl shake her head at her antics before glancing at her two best friends, who both eyed her curiously.

And she was lowkey scared now when she remembers the conversation she's had with you.

"What are you hiding?" Jisung asked playfully and Jisu tried to think of what to say that could possibly keep her nerves calm until a warm hand enveloped her own.

"Hi! Sorry, Yuna was asking me for tutoring lessons so we had to fix a schedule." You greet everyone with a bright smile and Jisu feels a little bit better when you direct your smile in her direction, one she happily reciprocates.

Hyunjin seemed surprised by your arrival, knowing that you didn't usually come to see any of them at this time. "I thought you used your free period in the library?" He asked and you nod your head in confirmation.

"Usually, yeah. But I did promise a certain someone that I was going to take them out." You answer with a little grin and Yeji's eyes widened in awe and realization whilst the two males seemed to pause at the sudden news.

"Really? You guys are so cute!" Yeji gushed, causing a blush to form on Jisu's cheeks while you gently tugged at her hand. "I know that break time isn't too long, so I hope you guys don't mind." You tell them, taking Jisu's bag and placing it on your own shoulder instead, raising her embarrassment as she squeezed your hand.

While the two of you waved them goodbye, Jisu flashed the two boys an apologetic stare before you began asking her how her day was.

Meanwhile, Jisung and Hyunjin blinked owlishly by the sudden events before slowly facing each other.

"A… date?" Hyunjin furrowed his brows and Yeji turned to face them. "I mean, yeah. I know Ryujin told Chaeryeong about talking to Lia, but to think that she picked her instead." She said humorously with a shake of her head.

"Wait, I thought Lia was straight!" Jisung said, flabbergasted, as he looked at the direction you had disappeared to.

Forgetting about their previous competition, both boys looked to each other before Yeji burst into laughter as she patted her twin's arm.

"You tried. But they are roommates, you don't really know what happens behind closed doors."

They swear, once you both came back from your date and you all had free period, they had a series of questions for the two of you regarding this little revelation, but they were nowhere near as angry as Jisu assumed them to be.

[aellynera]

Word of  Mouth (Santiago Garcia x Reader)

WORD OF MOUTH

(This has been sitting in my WIPs for-ev-errrrr and I finally got in the mood to finish it, since I haven’t written Santi in a while and I missed him. It’s nothing too involved, just a slice-of-life kind of deal, but I do like the way it turned out. Comments, likes, and reblogs always appreciated!)

I think this one came out as GN!Reader (I’ve read over it a few times but if I’m wrong please let me know.)

Word Count: 2340

Summary: It’s not that Santiago is mad about it, exactly; it’s more that he doesn’t like the way it happened.

Warnings: Some cursing. Some angst. Some fluff. Argument. Two people being stubborn. As always possible lack of proofreading.

Santiago comes off duty and returns to your on-base housing, and he stays quiet for far too long. Usually he greets you with a kiss, or at least a hello, but this time he doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t say a word as he goes into the bedroom, peels off his fatigues, and changes into a plain black t-shirt and plain khaki cargo pants.

He doesn’t say a single word.

“Um, hello to you too,” you call out, getting up to follow him. “How was your day?”

He just shrugs and shakes his head slightly. You get the same response when you ask him if anything interesting happened today, how training went, or if he’s hungry.

You haven’t seen him for most of the day, different assignments and different meetings keeping you apart while on duty, but you just know. From his silence and the way he’s acting, you just know. You’ve been trying to find the right way to bring it up, the right time to mention it, and clearly, that time is going to be now whether you like it or not.

He’s found out.

Even when different assignments keep you apart, you do work on the same base and everyone knows you’re together, even if you never officially said anything. It’s really no one’s business but it’s not really a secret, and you live together, so people just assume. And anything work-related was never unknown for long. Word has gotten back to Santiago, and from the looks of it, it has also gotten to him.

The fact that you can’t actually read his expression is what concerns you the most.

You sit down on the side of the bed and sigh again. “Frankie told you.”

Someone who had been in that early morning meeting with you, a particular someone Santiago identified as a best friend, certainty couldn’t keep it to himself. You make a mental note to have a very, very strict conversation with one Francisco “Catfish” Morales the next time you see him.

Santiago considers calling Frankie, so he can repeat exactly what he told Santiago this afternoon, after you’d already gone back home for the day. Instead he finally decides to answer you, his voice flat and dangerous.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“It’s my job,” you reply evenly.

“It’s your job if you get assigned to it,” he runs a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s not your job if you volunteer for it. That’s a choice.”

You furrow your brow at him. “Semantics.”

“Selection,” he responds, voice clipped.

You rest your head on your fingertips, four on your forehead and thumb on your cheekbone. “I’m the best person for this mission. and.. it’s not like it’s never come up before. We’ve had this conversation, Santi, we’ve talked about this exact scenario, and you even said that no one was more…”

Santiago raises an eyebrow. “Hypothetical and actual are not the same thing.”

“So, hypothetically, I’m not actually qualified to do this?”

“Actually, you should let someone else be the flag-waver this time.”

“The flag-waver?”

“What, now this hypothetically has nothing to do with being a goddamn hero?”

Your head snaps up and your eyes narrow at him. He glares in return.

“Actually,” you start, but Santiago’s short, humorless laugh cuts you off.

This time, your words drag through the tension like dull razors through styrofoam. “Actually,” you repeat, “this has zero to do with being a fucking hero and everything to do with the fact that no one else could get this done the right way and it is my goddamn duty to do what I signed up for.”

“There is no right way that this isn’t going to be an absolute shitshow.” The venom in his voice is like ice in your veins.

“Thank you for having so much faith in me and my abilities, Santiago.”

Silence falls on the room for a few long minutes as you both fight to check your emotions. You understand he’s angry - and maybe scared, although he’ll never admit it - and he knows you’re absolutely right on all accounts - although he is not ready to admit it.

You break the silence, voice tuned down and level. “Look, I wanted to tell you myself, but I didn’t see you all day. I didn’t want you to find out like this. Frankie shouldn’t have gotten involved. But I am going on this mission. I...I don’t want you to be mad about it.”

He looks at you for a moment, and this time you can read his expression, but it almost makes it worse. It’s a combination of worry, sadness, understanding, and yes, traces of anger. It’s not a look that suits him. 

You shift in your spot on the edge of the mattress.

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed,” he says softly, then turns and walks from the room.

Oh. Shit.

***

The rest of the evening passes in a thick, uncomfortable silence. It’s been hours since your confrontation in the bedroom, and the fullness of night has fallen without a single other word being spoken between you.

You spend the night in bed alone, and Santiago makes himself mostly uncomfortable on the couch.

Morning breaks and you pull yourself from the confines of the comforter. Not that you had been sleeping very well anyway. It was warm under the covers, temperature wise, but it somehow felt so cold, and you haven't slept well. Your mind refused to calm down.

You shower and dress, going through your morning routine almost on autopilot. As you wash your face and glance into the mirror, one side of your mouth pulls up into a sad smirk as you recall Santiago’s last words from the night before.

Not mad, disappointed.

Your parents used to say that, when you’d done something against the rules, potentially stupid, and possibly morally questionable. It always seemed to hurt more than actually having them be mad at you, and you wince as you realize adulthood has done nothing to change that feeling.

You and Santiago have your fair share of arguments. Usually they’re not serious, even kind of playful. You both like to talk and you both like to be right, so a little verbal battle isn’t uncommon. But you’re still running the previous night’s...it wasn’t a conversation, but was it really a fight? Was it even an argument? No category really seems to fit, and this one just feels different.

You go downstairs and expect to find Santi on the couch, it’s still early, but as soon as you hit the bottom of the steps, the smell of freshly brewed coffee assaults your nose. 

He hands you a mug full of the dark brown liquid as you enter the kitchen. You take it with a nod of thanks and he nods back. But he still doesn’t say a word.

It’s a good sign though. At least, you hope it is, anyway.

You sip from your mug as he turns back to the stove, pushing some stuff around in a frying pan. It smells like bacon and potatoes and your stomach grumbles in protest, and you’re not sure but you think you can see the corners of Santi’s mouth turn up just a little.

Also a good sign. Maybe.

You sit down at your usual spot at the table and play with the handle on the mug. You offer him a singular glance and then stare back into your drink. Clearly he’s not going to be the one to talk first. You sigh.

This is not the first time he’s done this. Santiago is a good man, the best you know, and he’s honorable and decent and so fucking kind, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned since living with him, it’s he’s damn stubborn and can be a petulant brat when he wants to. And in typical macho hero Santiago Garcia style, he will not be the first one to cave after an argument, especially when he thinks he’s right.

You’ll give him shit for it later, when all the animosity has worn off, but for now, you’re going to have to cut the tension. You’ve never been good with silence and it’s only been one night and now this brief bit of morning and it’s starting to get to you.

And okay, maybe you’re not always the best at communicating with him, either. So you’ll be the first to break, this time.

You sigh again. “Santi…”

He turns his head slightly, away from his work at the stove, and glances at you. An eyebrow goes up.

“Are we going to talk about this? For real?” you ask.

He shrugs and turns back to the contents of the pan.

A frustrated growl erupts from your chest as you push your chair back and take the three steps over to the stove. You grab the handle and push the pan off the heat, snapping the burner off as you do, and then whirl and stare at Santi. He narrows his eyes and takes a step back, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter by the sink.

“Please say something to me,” you bite out. God, he’s so frustrating sometimes. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it first, but you cannot be upset with me for doing my goddamn job. For doing what I signed up to do. Just...fucking talk to me. Please.”

This time it’s Santi who sighs, and he runs a hand through his hair and massages a spot on the back of his neck. “I told you, I’m not mad.”

“Okay,” you nod, “but you really also can’t be disappointed.”

“I’m not.”

“You can’t just be...wait, what?”

“I said,” he says, uncrossing his arms slowly and reaching for one of your hands, “I’m not.”

You just blink at him and bite your bottom lip.

“I just...I don’t like the thought of you being out there without me.” Your mouth opens to retort but he holds up a hand to stop you, and you close it again and he continues. “I know you can do this, I know you’re totally capable and you can handle yourself, you could probably kick my ass on any given day in sparring, but...I just…” his voice trails off and he turns to stare out the kitchen window.

You squeeze his hand firmly and pull his attention back to you. He looks so handsome, his hair still tousled slightly from sleep and his t-shirt wrinkled from being on the couch all night, but he also really does look troubled and it makes your heart drop. “What is it, Santi?”

“There’s always a danger with any mission,” he says softly. “And it just kills me that I can’t protect you. I just want to protect you and have you come back safe.”

Then he’s pulling you into his arms and burying his face in your neck, and you feel wet spots on your collarbone and it makes tears prick at your eyes too. Santi shakes slightly in your arms and you whisper soft, soothing words into his hair.

He’ll never admit it, but you know. He’s scared.

Because he’s not wrong. This mission has the potential to go sideways and tits-up at the same time, and then flip over backwards for good measure. And you have to admit, although you’re not going to admit it to him because that would likely make it so much worse, that you’d give anything to have him on this mission with you. But you can’t. You can just do your job and do it well, prepare for the worst and hope for the best. 

A common mantra in your line of work. One that you always stick to.

But you have so much more to lose this time, and Santi does too, and your breakfast is forgotten as you take him by the hand and drag him back up to your bedroom. You lead him to the bed and lie down on your side, pull him down with you, and curl up into his side. He just wraps his arms around you and holds on like you’re a lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to come back to you,” you trace your fingers over his dog tags.

“I know,” he kisses under your ear.

You hope you’re telling the truth. He hopes you’re telling the truth. You both hold each other like it might be the last time, even though it won’t because you’re not leaving for several days, but you’re both acutely aware that you have no way of actually knowing when it might really be the last time.

So you just hold each other silently for a while, until a thought occurs to you and you huff out a gentle laugh.

“What?” Santi asks you, peering at you with heavy lids and stupidly long lashes.

You lean up to kiss him on the nose. “Wanna help me run some strategy?” 

His answer is cut off by the very insistent complaint from your stomach. He quirks an eyebrow. “Wanna have a breakfast meeting?”

You giggle. “Probably a good idea.”

Santi plants a kiss on your lips and then gets up, holding out a hand to pull you off the bed and you stand, stretching your arms over your head. He goes to the doorway and says, “I’ll go finish making the food. Meet you at the table in 20, Lieutenant.”

“Sure thing, Captain,” you smile at him.

He moves to leave, and then calls out, “Oh, and Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Santiago?” you roll your eyes, another giggle escaping your lips.

He sticks his head back in the door, just for a moment, just long enough to take all of you in with a look of adoration, and mouths the words “I love you.” Then he turns and goes downstairs.

And you know you can handle - no, you will handle - anything that might happen, and your heart soars.

~end~

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[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

A little help from the team

Word count: 2989

Genre: A little angst but mostly fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader 

Warnings: Light swearing, brief mentions of alcohol (let me know if I need to add more)

Request: Can you do a natasha x reader fic where they are so in love with each other but none of them makes a move and the rest of the avengers are frustreted, even Nick Fury so he goes and sets them up by sending them to a mission together in Budapest? You decide who finally makes the first move

Summary: Frustrated with you and Natasha avoiding your feelings Tony convinces the others to try to get you together, Nick Fury needs no convincing.

A/n: This was an anonymous request and it’s a bit late so I hope the person that requested this is seeing this and if you are I hope you like it! Also I’m trying out the thing where you post it at a scheduled time because I don’t think posting at 11 pm is a great idea so hopefully that works. Also to anyone who has sent requests, they will get done soon, the reason why they are taking longer is because some of them gave me series ideas so obviously series take longer than oneshots. Anyways I hope everyone enjoys the story!

“Just tell Natasha your feelings already, it’s not a big deal!” Tony says exasperated. 

“Yeah what am I supposed to say?” you question. “Hi Tasha, sorry to bother you but I just wanted to tell you I’ve been hopelessly in love with you for years. You don’t like me back? No, that’s cool, it's not like I have a broken heart now, see you around!” 

“Come on Y/n, it wouldn’t go like that, you have to tell her!” He insists so you look to Bruce who is sitting at the other side of the lab for help. 

He glances guiltily at you. “Sorry but for once in his life Tony is right-” Tony scoffs but Bruce continues “-you need to take a chance and honestly I think it will work out. She’s nicer to you than to anybody else.” 

You give him a small smile. “Thanks for trying to help guys, I really do appreciate it but I just can’t tell her right now I hope you understand.” They both nod their head but you can tell that they are a bit disappointed in you. You’re a bit disappointed in yourself as well because you would like nothing more than to tell her but even the thought makes your heart race in a way nothing has done before.

“Anyways I’ve got to go now because I promised Maria I would help her train some of the new recruits and then we’re meeting up with Tasha for lunch.” You tell them plopping yourself down from the counter you were seated on. 

“Bye!” “See ya!” You hear both of them say as you walk out of the room and you inwardly smile, thankful to have such great friends. 

As soon as Tony realizes you’re out of earshot he turns to Bruce with a mischievous expression on his face. “We’ve got to do something about the two of them.” 

“I don’t know,” Bruce says while looking down at his hands, “it really isn’t our business and there’s a good chance whatever you have in mind could make it worse.”

“Is that seriously what you think of me?” Tony teases. “Besides, it wouldn’t be just me helping, I think we should call a team meeting minus those two. They are both out of the tower right now so it would be perfect.”

Bruce sighs. “I don’t know Tony…”

“Please Brucie?” Tony pleads. “It’s for love! And I’m doing either way so you either get a say in the plan or you don’t.” 

He caves in. “Fine. But you have to get Steve to agree with whatever you do.” 

“Not going to lie to you Bruce, it hurts that you trust Steve more than me,” Tony says, looking completely unbothered, “Jarvis, tell everybody to meet in the common floor living room.”

“Of course sir.” The A.I. responds as Tony already starts to race upstairs, Bruce trailing after him slowly. 

Because Tony got so excited he didn’t want to take the elevator and wanted to run up the stairs, it actually took longer for them to make their way up to the floor because, predictably, around half way up Tony got exhausted and needed a break. Therefore by the time they made it the rest of the team was already waiting. 

“Why did you call us here Tony?” Steve asks for the group. 

“Because we were just talking to Y/n in the labs and since she and Natasha are so obviously in love with each other we need to come up with a plan to get them together. You in?”

“Of course I’m in!” Clint answers without any hesitation. 

“As much as I would like to help, it is none of our business what they choose to do.” Steve tells Tony, looking conflicted. 

“Do it for love!” Tony says dramatically. “Do you really think those two idiots are going to do anything about their feelings anytime soon?”

“Well no,” Steve yields, “I guess there’s no harm in that.” Wanda, Sam and Bucky follow Steve’s lead and agree, Tony pumping his fist in the air as soon as they do as Bruce sighs loudly, wishing he wasn’t a part of whatever this was.

“So do you have any ideas?” Wanda asks. 

Tony grins like a maniac. “Yes actually I do. All we have to do is convince Fury to get on board and then we can send them on a fake mission, pretending to be a couple, with no actual objective. Then in order to keep their cover Fury can force them to sleep in a room with only one bed.” 

Everyone looks at him blankly and Sam speaks up. “That’s your plan dude?!!?? That sounds like the plot of a bad rom-com.” 

Tony is not known as a great businessman and negotiator for no reason and two hours later he finds himself walking through the hallways of Shield with Steve by his side, on his way to ask Fury about his idea.

“Why did it have to be us two?” Steve asks.

“Because I’m a smooth talker and charming so Fury will obviously like what I say, and you’re responsible so if he knows you agree with me there’s no way he’ll say no. Steve sighs but doesn’t protest as they reach the door and Tony knocks. 

“Come in.” Fury says and they both enter. Immediately upon seeing Tony’s expression Fury raises his eyebrows and leans forward in a way that made him look doubtful already. 

“I need a favour-” Tony starts. 

“No can do.” Fury interrupts him. 

“It’s about Y/n and Natasha not me.” Tony says, trying to change his mind. 

“Tony, he said no.” Steve tries to remind him so they can leave. 

Fury holds up his hand. “No, wait, this I am interested in.” Steve looks shocked that he isn’t throwing them out of the room but Tony just smirks and explains his plan. Neither of them have ever seen Fury look so mischievous and considering that he’s a spy that has lied to them more times than they know of, that is saying something. 

“Usually I would hate to admit this but Stark is one hundred percent right. They both will not admit their feelings but being alone together pretending to be a couple for a week could push them to the breaking point. I will inform them later today about the ‘mission’.”

“Thank you sir, we will leave you alone now.” Tony says, ushering Steve out of the room. 

“No, thank YOU Stark.” Fury says before phoning you.

Two hours after you received a phone call from Fury you walk with Natasha into the briefing room for a mission. You were a bit disappointed because when you had asked Nat and Maria earlier if they wanted to get lunch after the training session, only Nat had agreed so you were supposed to be eating lunch with just her, which was rare. At least the mission was together, although most missions didn’t allow much time for talking to each other. 

“Do you know what Fury has in mind?” Natasha asks but you shrug in response. You never know what goes through Fury’s mind but that’s what makes him such a good director. 

Speaking of which he somehow knows you’re there before you knock on the door and says, “come in.” You and Natasha exchange glances, rolling your eyes at his dramatics before entering and sitting in the two chairs provided. 

“You have a mission that should only last a few days. Your job is to go to Budapest on a honeymoon at a hotel where we believe this couple of prominent arms dealers are staying.” You’ve never had to act in a romantic situation with Natasha before so it makes you very nervous but you know better than to argue because Fury never changes his mind. 

Natasha apparently doesn’t. “Why do I have to do it with her, wouldn’t it be more believable if I did it with one of the guys?” You can’t help but feel hurt at the fact that she is so against doing this mission with you and you make a mental note to tell Tony about this so he stops bugging you about her liking you back.

“Agent Romanoff, I have my reasons, and this is what is best for this particular mission.” Fury says, offering no explanation as to what his reasons are.

Natasha frowns but doesn’t argue. “Fine, when do we leave?”

“Now,” he says, “you’ll get the full file briefing on the jet on the way over, please read them carefully.” Neither of you respond verbally but you both respectfully nod before making your way over to the jets. You’re a bit surprised by the type of mission he gave you because usually you don’t do many spy missions but you aren’t surprised by the lack of turnover time. Everything at Shield has no exact schedule meaning the hours were horrible. 

The jet ride over there is silent and Natasha seems to avoid you, either in the bathroom or cockpit the entire time except for when you were reading over the files. This didn’t seem like a very exciting mission because there wasn’t even a guarantee that the couple would be there, just rumors, however based on the files Fury seemed to think that taking the chance was worth it because they were important.

All the way to the hotel in the cab Natasha continued to act strangely and ignore you instead of striking up conversation like she normally would. You try not to let it bother you and thoughts of her behaviour go out the window when you see the hotel you’re supposed to be staying at. It’s gorgeous and obviously would cost a ton of money. You marvel at architecture as you step out of the cab, mumbling thank you to Natasha as she hands you your bag you almost forgot. 

The bonus of working with Shield is that you didn’t have to check in because the key card was already provided for you so you rush up to your room which is on the fourth floor, pulling Natasha by her free hand behind you to keep up the newly married and in love act. You burst into your room and stop short; there’s only one bed. Natasha follows and also pauses as she sees the situation. Both of you look around for a pullout bed or a couch but there’s none to be found. 

“Well I guess we’re sharing now!” You say brightly, trying to pretend that you are not completely freaking out. 

“Yeah…” she says quietly, unenthused. Once again you keep a straight face but it hurts inside. 

“Should we start off at the bar?” you ask her. “In the files I got the impression that they’re the type of couple that would like to drink quite a lot.” 

“Good idea!” she praises, and your mood brightens considerably. 

In the end it turns out that both of you are wrong and the couple doesn’t make an appearance at the bar even though you were there for three hours. Afterwards, still tired from your flight you both crawl into bed, lying at far opposite sides and trying not to move. It’s awkward so you want to fall asleep to escape the feeling but you lie awake for hours, dreaming about what it would be like to sleep in the same bed but holding each other instead of turning away. 

When you wake up in the morning you aren’t well rested at all. Staying up late combined with not letting yourself fully relax because you didn’t want to invade Natasha’s space were two things that worked well to keep you tired. Luckily all you have to do today is go around the hotel participating in activities together and looking out for the arms dealers while pretending to be honeymooning. 

You soon learn that it is harder said than done. There still have been no sighting of the targets but honestly that seems easier to you at this point. The entire day Natasha was on you, whether it was a quick peck on the cheek, fiddling with your hand or her hand on your waist, she never strayed far and you were worried your heart was going to combust or you would accidentally tell her you were in love with her, both of which would be bad. Luckily you manage to hold it together for the whole day and take a long shower to destress and try to keep your mind off of Natasha. You think you do a pretty good job but once again you lie awake for hours before you finally drift off and even when you do, your sleep is not very good. 

The next day is a repeat of the first which annoys you because you were supposed to be flying back to Shield tomorrow and you still hadn’t even located your targets. Both of you are feeling a little frustrated so when Natasha suggests you call it a night and head to the bar you agree quickly. You drink enough to be tipsy but not drunk before you cut yourself off because you don’t like the idea of a hangover. Natasha doesn’t stop drinking when you do yet looks perfectly sober whereas you feel like a mess so you inwardly curse her alcohol tolerance and acting skills. 

The two of you stay in the bar playing useless games like darts but having a lot of fun until 2 am when the bartender kicks you out with a creepy look, telling you to enjoy the rest of your night. You shudder slightly when you realize what he is thinking about but don’t dignify him with a response, instead following after Natasha as she walks back up to your room, occasionally sneaking glances at her butt. 

When you get inside both of you change into pyjamas back to back, too lazy to take a shower or even change in the bathroom. You sigh as your head hits the pillow, the last few days of late nights and bad sleeps catching up to you. Luckily you start drifting off fairly quickly and feel more relaxed, although that could just be the alcohol helping.

“Y/n?” Natasha’s voice calls from the other side of the bed, more timid sounding than usual.

“Yes?” You answer, yawning in your attempt to regain some alertness. 

“Do you ever feel lonely?” She asks. 

You have to think about it for a second before answering. “Of course I do sometimes, I think everybody feels lonely sometimes. Why do you ask?”

“I feel lonely right now.” She admits. 

“Why?” you say with a small giggle to try to lighten her seemingly dark mood. “I’m right here.”

“But you’re purposefully as far away from me as possible.” She pauses and you think that’s all she has to say before she continues. “I-I want to cuddle.”

Your heart clenches and you get extremely nervous. “Are you sure that’s not the alcohol talking?”

She shakes her head with an unreadable expression on her face. “I’m not drunk.” She says before turning to face away from you like she is upset. You still are nervous but don’t want her to feel upset and she did mention cuddling so you scoot yourself across the bed until you are close enough behind her that if you moved another inch you would be fully against her. She feels you behind her and turns around looking into your eyes for a second before burying her face in your neck and wrapping her arms around you. Pleasantly surprised you slowly wrap your arms around her as well, sighing in contentment when she seems to try to wiggle closer to you. You want to stay awake to fully experience this but far too soon your eyes feel heavy and you fall into a deep sleep. 

You feel warmth and a press of lips on your jawline and your eyes flutter open quickly. Natasha looks up at you with an expression you can only describe as one a child wears when they get caught stealing cookies. Laughing at how cute she is you go down to kiss her on the nose at the same time as she tilts her head further up so your lips end up catching hers. You both practically melt into the kiss, sighing until a loud ring tone breaks through the silence. You groan and pick it up. 

“Hey Y/n, are you done your mission yet?” 

You ignore the question and put the phone on speaker so Natasha can hear as well. “Tony, why are you calling me?”

“To ask if you’re done your mission, duh.” He responds. 

“Well technically we haven’t done it but we haven’t seen either of the targets.” You tell him, disappointed in yourself but knowing you followed all the orders so it wasn’t really your fault. 

“Not that mission you idiot, that doesn’t exist, the real mission was did you get together with Nat?” You freeze because you weren’t sure where you stood with Natasha, but luckily she doesn’t seem to mind what Tony just said.

“Wait Y/n you want to get with me?” She says in an outraged voice with a wink to let you know she was joking. “What’s wrong with you???”

Tony audibly gulps on the other end of the line. “I’msosorryY/nanwaysI’vegottogonowbye! (I’m so sorry Y/n, anyways I’ve got to go now, bye)” As soon as you hear the line go silent both of you collapse in laughter. 

“Was that too mean?” She asks, not sounding very serious.

“Nah, he deserved it, although I don’t know how he got Fury to agree.” You respond. 

“Well he always was a cheeky bastard,” Natasha says, shaking her head fondly, “although I guess we do have them to thank for this.”

“Mmhmm,” you agree, “but they don’t have to know that.”

---

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[aizawaslovebot]

NOW PLAYING: the ex factor by iwaizumi hajime

—reader pronouns: he/him

—warnings: curse words ; slight implied violence

—summary: desperate times mean desperate measures, and y/n is definitely the embodiment of desperate. eager to make his ex jealous for reasons undisclosed, (read as: he's just petty), he asks his long-time best friend, iwaizumi hajime, to pretend as his boyfriend

—note: y'know how it always is, sorry for being late!!

TAGLIST: OPEN ; just send me an ask!! i don't mind you guys resending asks to be added ^^

@ohmygodronnie2020 @beyond-the-mxxn @clinomanians

<- the sweetheart playlist | part i | part ii | next song ->

The plan was simple, really.

Pretend to be boyfriends and find the bane of your existence so you could rub it in his face that he was much more disposable than he made you feel. Then you’d both get the hell out of there and go someplace you both actually enjoyed. It was easy to do, too. Pretending to be together was something you had done when one of the other had problems with strangers. Finding your ex was an easier task because all you had to look for is where there was an influx of vulnerable girls.

Apparently, this plan was simple only in theory.

Realistically speaking, as you and Iwa fail to wade through the many drunk people flailing their limbs and calling it dancing, finding your ex was not an easy task.

The other part of the plan was also much more difficult than either of you expected too. Pretending was not easy. It was not easy when either of you couldn’t ignore the beating of your hearts at close contact. It was not easy when everyone readily acknowledged that you were together; that it was normal for Iwaizumi Hajime and Y/N L/N to be together. It was not easy when pretending reminded both of you that this was fake and that reality will sink in much sooner than the way next week came.

“Finally!” Someone would say, “We’ve been waiting for you two to get together!” Then a drunk acquaintance would add, “I thought you were together this whole time!”

So, sure, making it seem like you two were together was easy. But pretending— oh dear lord, just pretending— was what made it difficult. It had become apparent to both of you, without the other knowing, that just pretending hurt so much.

“Just how much did everyone drink? I heard the party started an hour ago,” You sigh, cringing when you see the class valedictorian puking her guts out by the plant.

Iwa snorts as he fixes his grip on your waist, “Just let the bunch of idiots let loose. The sem ended after all, puddin’.” Only a mere squeak comes out of your mouth because of the way his soft lips neared your ears.

God damn. Was it really necessary to gay panic in the middle of a mission?

With no answer to the hypothetical question in your head, you decided to let the energy die out a little before you commence part two of the plan. You and Iwa find solace in the comfort of an unoccupied booth but you couldn’t sit still at all.

The thought of being close to Iwa tonight felt different. It made you giddy and nervous and flustered and anxious all at once. It was like having to hold your breath and close your eyes to prepare for the “big thing” to happen. And you were too scared to find out what the “big thing” was for you so, despite much reluctance, you said, “I’m gonna get a drink, Zumi.”

You hastily got out of the booth and made a beeline for the kitchen to look for any drink that was sealed or canned. As much as you wanted the confidence that being intoxicated gives you, you’d rather not be embarrassingly drunk while facing your ex. In your quest to find something safe to drink in a college party, your acquaintances strike up a conversation.

“So, you and Iwaizumi, huh?” The aforementioned drunk class valedictorian asked, surprisingly still able to make a conversation despite feeling unwell just a few moments ago. “Been a long time coming,” she continued when you nodded, “You two are made for each other, y’know?”

You two hear a sigh from Claire’s, the drunkard valedictorian, friend beside her. “How romantic… I still remember how the whole ‘pudding’ nickname started. We honestly thought you’ve been dating ever since then.”

Claire looks at you questioningly, as if mentally asking you to relay the story to her because she was probably piss drunk when it happened; I mean, she’s still drunk right now but she was far worse back then.

You give in before they start to get the idea of gathering more and more people to make you tell the story. “It’s a weird story though,” You warn, but judging by the way they still urged you on, you could continue. “There was a time in our first year when we had this party, right? By then, Iwa and I were, at most, acquaintances if not just roommates.”

“I didn’t know how to like, interact with him because I found him so intimidating,” You smiled faintly, causing the two girls to look at each other quickly. “Anyway, everyone got challenged to eat as many diet pudding cups as we could possibly eat— which was quite unhealthy considering we’re studying to become trainers.”

Claire’s friend snorts, reminiscing the day when your class bought out all the diet pudding cups available in the nearest convenience stores for a stupid game.

“I got really competitive about it to the point where only Iwa and I remained. Neither of us wanted to back down but everyone got concerned about the amount we ate so we were both crowned diet pudding cup champions”

They giggle at the odd story but let you continue. “We started calling each other ‘diet pudding cup champion’ after that but it was honestly a mouthful to say so somewhere down the line, it got shortened to ‘pudding’.”

“Which is why we thought you two were a thing but you dated that asshole ex of yours and left us stumped,” Claire downs another bottle, “You didn’t even look comfortable with that ex and you two were never compatible, honestly. But all is well now! I wish I had love like yours…”

Claire’s friend rolls her eyes when the valedictorian starts crying, mumbling how cute you and Iwa were and that the entire class should be invited to your wedding. Claire then cries out how soft you two are for each other. “Sorry for her nonsense,” Claire’s friend sighs, “Anyway, we shouldn’t keep you for long… You should go back to your boyfriend.”

You wave slowly as they leave you to yourself and your thoughts. Was that really how people thought? That Iwa and you were a much better match? Would you have been far happier if Iwaizumi Hajime, your long-time best friend, was your boyfriend instead?

Speaking of your ‘boyfriend’...

Iwaizumi was thankful you decided to part for a while. Had there not been distance between you two at that moment, he wasn’t sure what mistake he would’ve made. He was too scared to risk everything and find out too. Patiently, while rejecting the class drunkards who wanted to dance or drown in booze with him, Iwa waits for your return.

Iwaizumi Hajime was hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you. You were his idiot, his contradiction, his pudding, his everything, and sadly, just his best friend. How much did the universe have to hate him to bind you two to simply being best friends? How much did the universe have to hate him to let Iwaizumi Hajime get a taste of what could’ve been and deprive him of what would be? Why, of all people, did it have to be Iwaizumi Hajime who had to go through the turmoil of falling for his best friend?

Far too many questions have formed in his head but Iwaizumi persists. He still had to help you after all. So Iwa waits and waits and waits for your return while simultaneously having to deal with his realization and the universe’s hatred.

And the universe might have hated him more than it let on.

Y’know what they say when you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for specifically because you’re looking for it? How you should let time pass and that thing will magically pop up when you don’t need it?

It happened.

In front of Iwaizumi stood the very person they planned to spite that night, the very person who decided it was fun to toy with your heart, and the very person who Iwaizumi loathed to the very core: Akuma Azamuku.

While you were questioning your “what could be” with your pretend boyfriend, Iwaizumi was busy facing your bastard ex.

“I heard you two are together now,” The poor excuse of a man started, standing confidently as if he didn’t have women in his arms, “Kind of a fast development, don’t ‘ya think?”

Iwaizumi almost pulverized your ex to the ground at that statement. What a hypocrite. What a stupid guy. What a terrible person. To imply that you were the one who cheated when the God forsaken ex was the one who manipulated you into this chaos.

“Fast development? What do you call yours then?” He challenged, eyebrows raised unamused at your ex.

“I’m not here to argue with you,” Akuma rolled his eyes rather condescendingly, “He never had eyes for me anyway. The same way I never liked him one bit.”

Iwaizumi’s fingers twitched; they itched to close the distance between Akuma’s face and Iwa’s fist. You never liked him? What utter bullshit. You spent most of your days walking on eggshells to please the goddamn piece of shit and he tells him that you never liked your ex? He tells Iwa that he never liked you?

Sadly, Akuma took his silence as a sign to continue. Bad choice on his part, really.

“He has always liked you though, hasn’t he? You always had to be the man of the hour in Y/N’s eyes when he and I were together. The son of a bi—”

Then fist connected to face faster than anyone could have comprehended. Iwaizumi never liked your ex and his fists figured it was time to convey what he had been internalizing this whole time.

“You don’t get to talk that way. Not when it was you who two-timed him from the start,” Iwaizumi’s voice took a menacing tone. This was, by far, the scariest he had been: he wasn’t spouting off in anger, his voice sounded hushed, but it was obvious that there would be carnage.

“Y’know,” Iwaizumi started, slowly walking up to Akuma who was keeling over in pain, “I didn’t even hear the news from Y/N.”

“He wanted to hide that you cheated on him from me because even if he didn’t want to beat the shit out of you physically, he knew that I would.” Iwaizumi sat slowly to look at your ex eye-to-eye, death seen in his, “And he knows me so well.”

The girls in your ex’s arms were long gone. All that was left to face the wrath of Iwaizumi Hajime was the poor excuse of a man who manipulated you, hurt you, and used you. Your ex wasn’t going to go out of this party unscathed and everyone in their radar knew. Before his right knuckle could find its way to Akuma’s fear-stricken face, however, you had arrived.

“Stop it, Hajime.”

The aforementioned male sighed, relaxed his posture, and complied. Iwaizumi walks towards you as his anger slowly dissipates. As much as Iwa wanted to do so much more to your ex, he’d rather not anger nor disappoint you. It was you who was involved in the chaos after all, not him. Iwa was there to back you up and if it meant that he had to restrain himself from getting revenge for your sake, he would do it. He would do anything for you.

Akuma visibly relaxed too, assuming that you stopped Iwaizumi because you wanted to save your ex. He got so cocky at your presence to the point that he thought it was a good idea to utter the words “Just a guard dog, eh?” when you and Iwa started to walk away.

You retaliated at the speed of light, snarling as you threw a heavy punch to your ex’s disgusting face and successfully knocked the living daylights out of the spawn of Satan. Shocking everyone speechless, you looked your ex dead in the eyes and before leaving, you muttered, “Go to hell.”

Whether the mission was successful or not, neither you nor Iwa could tell. Yes, you were able to fool your ex and the entire class that you were together. Yes, you did make your ex feel jealous. So why did it feel so incomplete? Why did it feel as if you had more to resolve than you first did?

That was it? Is this the end of your faux relationship then?

The walk to your shared dorm was silent; the air heavy from what occurred just a few moments ago. With more questions than answers, you two had no choice but to retreat to the comfort of your shared living space.

While you went straight to your room to change, Iwa does what he does best when the atmosphere isn’t as light as either of you liked. He goes to the kitchen, gets a flurry of unhealthy junk foods that you two, as health practitioners in the making, ironically had, and prepares the living room for your impromptu Godzilla marathon.

This is how it always had been, you muse as you hear him surf the TV for the movies, this is how you two always cheer yourselves up when you get into disagreements or when either of you haven’t had the best day. You will forever be grateful for the support that Iwa always had been because without him, you don’t know how you would’ve survived this gruelling journey of yours.

Iwaizumi will always be important to you. He was your pillar, your anchor, your partner in crime, your pudding. You find yourself smiling as you fix your— it was Iwa’s but it’s yours now— hoodie, deciding to leave out all negativity that you had experienced because at the end of the day, Iwa was still with you.

Iwaizumi Hajime was still with you.

You pause, moments away from opening your door to your Iwa, wondering why it made you feel so warm to know that Iwaizumi Hajime was still with you, is still with you, and will always be with you.

Then you realize it all along.

The reason why pretending hurt more than your breakup, why seeing him so readily into your revenge quest stirred something inside of you, and why you felt that it was far more important to have Iwaizumi Hajime by your side than your ex.

Iwaizumi Hajime is and will always be your everything.

And maybe that meant that you wanted him by your side not as someone who you call your best friend, but someone who you hoped would be yours.

Is that too much to ask for?

Too focused on your revelation of the century, you failed to realize that the one person who reigned in your pretty head was standing before you— concerned by the fact that you had taken too long in your room, only to find you frozen by your front door, quite oblivious of his presence.

“You good?” He whispers, tone nothing but gentle. Iwaizumi, the ever-gruff and brash athlete, had always been gentle to you, hadn’t he?

You’ve had too many thoughts about your longtime roommate and best friend that his one question left you speechless. Perhaps it was your body’s precautionary measure against you and the possibility of a flurry of your heart’s unspoken desire pouring themselves out readily for Iwaizumi Hajime.

You love him, you realize. You’d always be ready to do anything for him, you realize.

“Hey…” Iwaizumi tries again when the only thing you did in response was look at him. Then he nervously goes on a tangent because he wasn’t fond of your silence, you had always been the better talker between the two of you, but Iwaizumi would rather he embarrass himself than let you sleep the night feeling terrible.

“I have Godzilla on for a marathon and I know we swore off on diet pudding cups after the challenge, but I bought some yesterday to eat with you because it had been years, right? Maybe we could—”

“I like you.”

“— eat some while… What?”

It was Iwa’s turn to be speechless. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he was actually dreaming right now. You just said what?

“I like you,” You firmly repeated, far more serious than he’d ever seen you been. Iwaizumi stands frozen, unable to process what you had said; unable to fully grasp the thought of you liking him back; unable to get it in his head that the one person he had always cared about admitted to having feelings for him.

Iwaizumi Hajime had to be dreaming. That’s not what you said right? How could you ever possibly like him back?

“‘Like’ isn’t enough to convey how much adoration I hold for you, ‘Zumi. I care for you more than you could comprehend— more than the four letter word could hold so when I say I like you, Iwaizumi,” You mumble, nerves getting the best of you when your confession only received silence but you couldn’t stop yourself from finally admitting, “I mean I love you.”

With that final blow, Iwaizumi could finally affirm that you will be the death of him. You were his idiot, his contradiction, his pudding, and, with full confidence, he could finally say, his everything.

“Say something you idiot,” You whined out of pure embarrassment— too nervous to calm the loud beating of your heart as you witness Iwaizumi’s ears turn red— successfully bringing him out of his everlasting gay-panicking for you. Godzilla plays on in the background, reminding the both of you that the world will keep moving to tomorrow despite how slow time seemed for you two.

Iwaizumi tries to calm his nerves in the guise of sighing the way he always did when you did something that was contradictory to how things were for him. Smiling ever so softly at your scrunched up face trying its best to hide your trembles, he says:

“I like you too.”

“And when I say I like you, Y/N,” Iwaizumi immediately adds with a teasing smirk on his face, “I mean I love you.”

“Damn you idiot.”

[omake]

before either of you could even move from your place, your dorm's door bursts open with an annoyed oikawa waiting.

"i've been standing outside for 15 minutes with all my luggage because i wanted to surprise my best friends but this is the welcome i get?" oikawa growls as he chucks the multitude of suitcases that he brought, only then noticing the atmosphere.

oikawa feels daggers pointed at him when he meets iwaizumi's glare. "oh wait..." oikawa slowly realizes, the imaginary lightbulb on his head lighting up by the way you had been so embarrassed, "oops...?"

"kUSOKAWA!!!"

—reblogging helps, thank you!!

[julemmaes]

Can you write more of the Nessian modern au where they have 5 kids plz?

Prompt ideas:

They go camping

Ezra goes on his first date

One of the kids (probably like Cal or Celia) feels like their parents done love them as much as they love the others / that they don’t get as much attention as they others

Obv u don’t need to use any of these prompts if u don’t want to, these are just some ideas

I loved your fic !!!

I Love You

Set in this universe, Nessian fourth child feels like she’s isn’t given the same amount of love her parents are showing her siblings and after a particularly bad day goes by, she bursts.

A/N: The ages: Ezra (23), Cal (19), Nora (14), Celia (12) and Andra (10). Nate is (18) and Iria (Emerie and Azriel’s firstborn) is (13).

It was hard to write this one, cause if one of my children came to me like this, telling me what Celia is going to say, I would probably kill myself you know. Hate these situations:(

Also, I’m definitely gonna write the other two too, cause they’re interesting and I think you all want to read about Ezra’s first date. So don’t worry, we’ll see them camping and struggling with love some more!

Enjoy!

Word count: 4,370

"Cal, can you help me with my homework?" asked Celia as she entered the boys room.

Her brother didn't even spare her a glance, waving a hand in mid-air, "I can't right now Cece, I'm playing with Nate and I can't pause, sorry." then burst out laughing at something his cousin had said to him through his earbuds. He cast her a quick glance over his shoulder, "Maybe when I finish."

The girl huffed, muttering a don't worry and closed the door behind her. She walked down the hallway, towards her room and Nora's. She didn't bother knocking, but froze in the doorway, staring at her sister with hopeful eyes. She knew she wouldn't find help there either when she heard her say Iria's name into the phone's microphone.

She could feel that she might be about to let out a scream of frustration.

She was about to leave the room when Nora noticed her, "Iria wait a second," she put a hand on the phone, smiling at Celia, "Do you want anything? I can leave the room if you need to study in silence," she offered her.

Celia shook her head, "I can't do this geometry problem." she said furrowing her brow as she looked at the strange figure on the sheet her math teacher had assigned her. She looked up at Nora and she had a bored look on her face. Celia had confirmation of what she had thought as soon as she walked in. Before her sister could find an excuse to escape that task, she smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'll do it myself."

Nora didn't even try to retort and resumed talking to her cousin, yelling at Celia to close the door when she left.

"Yeah, I'll close the door for you," she muttered to herself.

She didn't want to go to her mom and ask for help with her homework because she knew it would end with one of them yelling, but she had no other choice. Huffing for the millionth time, she headed downstairs, mentally ready to face an intense math session with her mom.

When she entered the kitchen, Nesta was leaning on her chair with her knees and half lying on the table, holding a yellow pencil and coloring one of the suns on Andra's exercise book.

Her sister was the first to see her, "Hi." she said in a flat tone.

Celia snickered, thinking "we're in the same boat sis". Doing homework with mom had always been tiring, whether it was math to solve or simple drawings to color, Nesta had the ability to squeeze their little brains to their last nerve.

Cassian had always told them that one day they would thank her, but Celia hadn't reached that moment yet. She was sure Ezra, who was finishing college, hadn't thanked her yet either for making him maintain that level of consistency in his studies.

"Mom," she called hesitantly, "could you help me with this problem?"

Andra glared at her, frowning, "She's helping me."

Celia knew she didn't mean it in a bad way, she knew she was probably just as tired as she was at that moment. After all, it was seven o'clock on a Sunday night for everyone, and if Andra had found herself finishing studying so late too, it was because she too had been given too much homework. She ignored her, waiting for Nesta to speak.

When he didn't answer her, Celia pushed with more annoyance in her voice, "Mom."

Nesta's head snapped toward her, and even this time, Celia knew the answer would be no. The weariness clear in her features. Nesta closed her eyes, scratching a temple with the tip of her pencil, "Can't you ask one of your siblings?"

"Nora and Cal are busy," she let her know, "I don't know where Ezra is."

Andra pointed her to the back door, "He's out with Dad, they're working in the gazebo."

Celia nodded, "Thank you." Nesta gave her a tired smile and then went back to coloring in the sun.

She clutched the book and notebook to her chest as she pushed the door open and the cold outside made her shiver. She could hear the hoarse laughter and low voices of her dad and brother, but she couldn't see them anywhere.

She stepped barefoot into the grass and wiggled her fingers through the blades of grass and then there was silence and Celia was suddenly afraid. If she turned around she could see Nesta and Andra at the table, but in front of her there was only darkness and silence, until a loud bang came from the gazebo and then she heard Cassian cursing, before Ezra burst out laughing.

She grinned, tiptoeing towards the two men.

As soon as she moved the curtain that was the door to the gazebo, a dart flew past her head and she jumped back, eyes wide. She felt her heart in her throat.

"Celia!" had shouted Ezra, sprinting toward her. His eyes, too, were full of fear and he had grabbed her by the arms. Cassian immediately behind him stroked her hair, checking to make sure he hadn't poked her in the face. They both let go a breath of relief when they saw that she was okay.

"Cutie you have to be careful when you come in here, you know that," her dad told her with a carefree smile on his face, "If I caught you, mommy would skin me alive."

All three cackled, Ezra pulling himself up and removing the darts from the board.

"Did you need anything?" asked Cassian.

Celia nodded, remembering the real reason she had gone there, "I can't do this problem-" she started to open the notebook, but Ezra interrupted her.

"Dad and I are just finishing up fixing this actually," he told her with a apologetic grimace, "Could you wait a half hour?"

Celia looked at Cassian hopefully, but her dad was already back handling tools and nails.

She turned to her brother, "But you were playing darts." she said impassively.

Ezra shrugged, "We were just taking a few minutes off, we've been working for hours." then turned to Dad, "Where's the wire?"

Cassian pointed to a spot on the other side of the gazebo and Celia took that gesture as her cue to leave them alone again.

"Nevermind." she whispered, closing the notebook and leaving the gazebo.

She eyed the table at which they ate breakfast every summer morning, thinking that if she started studying there maybe she would die of hypothermia and finally someone would deign to help her. Laughing at how extra she could be at times, she walked back into the house, passing her mom and Andra in silence and heading back to Cal's room. She was going to wait for him to finish the game and then force him to solve the problem for her.

She threw open the door and Cal let out a shriek, startling her.

"God, Cece you scared the shit out of me." he breathed, bringing a hand to his chest, finishing pulling on his pants.

Celia furrowed her brow, "Weren't you playing with Nate?"

Cal nodded absentmindedly, looking around, "See my wallet?"

She pointed it out to him. "Where are you going? You said you'd help me," she said in a whiny tone.

"I said maybe," he smiled slyly at her, "and Raina called me and I'm spending the night at her place." with that he turned and opened the drawer, pulling out two aluminum foil envelopes. As soon as Celia realized what they were, she brought her hands to her eyes.

"Gee," she sighed, then turned around shaking her head, "I didn't need to see that."

Without looking at him, she raised a hand, smiling tightly at the empty space in front of her, "See you tomorrow, have fun."

Cal chuckled as he walked past her and darted down the stairs, "Sure will. See you tomorrow."

Celia shook her head again and then again, trying to erase the image of- she walked back down the hall, opening up the door to her room.

Nora in a completely different position was still talking on the phone and when she saw her she rolled her eyes, telling Iria to wait yet again. She turned on her stomach, raising an eyebrow, "What is it?"

Why is everyone so grumpy today?

Celia was fed up with that attitude and raised her arms to the sky, "Nothing, whatever."

Then they stared at each other for a few seconds and Nora nodded her chin, "Could you please go out? I'm talking to Iria on the phone and-"

"This is my room, too," Celia retorted, pointing out the obvious.

Nora huffed, leaning her head back, "Yes and I'm asking if I can please talk to our cousin in private."

Celia was getting even more nervous. "If you would help me with this problem I could go mind my own business in the living room and I wouldn't have to bother you every five minutes anymore."

Nora stood up, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her out of the room, "I'll help you when I'm done talking on the phone."

Celia didn't even have time to realize that her sister had literally just thrown her out of the room that the door behind her had already been closed. She wanted to go back in and throw herself at Nora and work it out the way they used to work it out when they were kids, when they could still hit each other if they fought - not that their parents ever let them go beyond the first slap or hair pull.  

She walked into the bathroom in the middle of their rooms to see where Cassian and Ezra stood, but from the second floor it was impossible to see inside the gazebo.

She went to Andra's room so she wouldn't risk running into condom wrappers and having to breathe the testosterone-smelling air of her brothers' room and sat down on the bed. She opened the notebook on her lap, rereading the problem statement aloud.

"A rectangular parallelepiped has basic dimensions that measure-" then she stopped.

It was pointless. She couldn't figure out what formulas to apply to calculate what was asked of her in the fourth question. Rereading the text wasn't going to help.

She brought her hands to her hair.

Why is this so hard?

She heard Nora laughing down the hall and felt anger sizzle under her skin.

Ever since she'd gotten the phone for her fourteenth birthday, there hadn't been a night that was one in which she hadn't called Iria. And it had only been a few months since she'd started high school, but Celia didn't understand how those two things had managed to change her sister like that.

She knew Nora still cared about her, but it was getting harder and harder to spend time with her, and Cal was always out with Raina and the twins and it was possible that she didn't see him for days at a time. Although that last part had become an occurrence in recent years.

Nesta had explained to her that it was normal, that they were just growing up and there was nothing to worry about, that they'd get closer once she got older too, but it had hurt Celia to lose Cal in many ways and now she was just scared that the same thing would happen with Nora.

She had nothing against spending her free time with Andra, but she was still little and still liked to play with dolls and Celia would rather hang herself than pretend to be a Doctor Peluche one more time.

She chuckled again this time, imagining herself announcing her death to her parents after her little sister asked her to play.

Then she heard Andra scream with happiness and run up the stairs. She was just in time to get out of the bed and out of the room that her sister was at the top of the stairs.

"I finished my homework!" she yelled, balling up her fists in the air.

Celia smiled at her, "Great."

Then Andra sagged, "Now I'm going to go take a victory nap."

"You've earned it." she walked past her as she yawned and headed down the stairs two steps at a time.

"Mom!" she called skipping the last three, "Can you help me now?"

Nesta made a frustrated sound, turning to her with a bag of frozen green beans in her hand.

"I just finished with Andra, is there any way we could think about this after dinner?"

Celia was about to start crying, but nodded anyway. She went into the living room when her mom resumed cooking, turning on the TV and putting on a channel where they showed how food is made.

When her dad and Ezra came back into the house they were so dirty that Nesta sent them straight to get washed up with the threat of not letting them sit down if they didn't smell flowery and clean.

Celia would have gone along with her mom, adding a sassy retort to make it even more dramatic, but at that moment she couldn't speak.

Cassian had passed behind the couch to go to the bathroom and shower, ruffling her hair and leaving a kiss on her head.

Even there, Celia didn't respond or say any "I love you too" back.

She didn't realize until a few minutes later that she wasn't really watching the show, and when she felt she was about to start crying - from too much accumulated stress and frustration throughout the day - she decided she needed to find a place where she could blow off steam.

Her room was apparently off-limits, Andra's was occupied and she couldn't hide in either her parents' or her brothers' room because both Ezra and her dad would go there to get dressed after their showers.

This only added to all the bad things of the day and on top of all the crap, she knew her mom was going to go to sleep right after dinner. When Nesta was this tired there was no way she was going to be able to stay up a minute longer and even if she could convince her it would just be hell.

Doing math with a calm and rested Nesta was already a nightmare on its own, she didn't want to think about what it would be like to do it with a cranky and tired Nesta.

She silently opened the door that led into the tavern, where the brothers normally spent their Saturday nights with their cousins and friends. The girls still weren't allowed to go down there when everyone was there, and Celia was looking forward to high school so she would get a free pass to attend their nights.

That is, if they would accept her.

She closed the door carefully behind her and ran down the stairs, turning on the light first.

She threw herself on the couch and then hugged her legs, sobbing once. And then again and again until a liberating cry was wracking her body.

She didn't know if it was just the math assignment she couldn't do or if it bothered her to see how much everyone didn't need her at that moment. Andra had mom and Ezra had dad and Nora and Cal had their respective friends and Celia… she felt so lonely right then.

She sobbed particularly loudly and clamped her mouth shut with her hand when she heard her father's footsteps pass by the tavern door. She didn't want him to hear her, it would worry him for nothing.

Yes, it was just because she couldn't get a stupid math problem right. She was overreacting.

She didn't need her parents. Or her brothers.

Or her sister for that matter.

She was sure all of her classmates were getting the exercise done.

She loosened her arms from around her legs and lay down on the couch, closing her eyes and clutching one of the pillows to her chest. It had a vague earthy smell to it, but it smelled like Cal too, and it angered the girl even more as she grabbed a corner of the pillow and threw it across the room, yelling not too loudly.

She didn't know how long she'd been down there, but when Nesta called the family to let them know dinner was ready, Celia sprang to her feet. She pulled the sleeves of her shirt over her hands and ran them over her face to remove the residue of the crying in frantic movements.

She took three deep breaths and then walked slowly up the stair

s. She opened the door just as Ezra walked into the living room and their eyes met.

She immediately lowered her head, so he wouldn't see her face, but her brother put a hand on her shoulder, "Lia..." the silent request to look at him clear as day.

"What?" she replied too surly. She cursed in her head when she noticed her brother stiffen. It was as if she could see his surprised expression.

So much for playing dumb.

"Are you okay?" he asked, then squeezed her shoulder, "Why were you downstairs?"

She moved to escape his grasp, then ran a hand over her face, huffing, "I was looking for something." she replied evasively, trying to make her way to the kitchen. Ezra grabbed her wrist, spinning her around, at which point Celia was forced to look at him.

Ezra had a conflicted expression, somewhere between angry and worried, "What happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, in a tone that didn't allow for a non-answer.

Celia remained silent, her brows knitted in a frown as she tried to swallow the knot that was forming in her throat.

Perhaps he had spoken too loudly, because Cassian's figure appeared in the kitchen doorway, "Who's crying?"

Celia looked towards her dad and it only took a second of seeing him for the crying to return, only harder.

Cassian's face turned completely as he moved Ezra from in front of his daughter and hugged her, lifting her off the ground. Celia wrapped her arms around her father's neck, hiding her face between the crook of his neck and his shoulder, and only sobbed louder as Cassian's hand began massaging her back in circular motions.

She didn't care if she would be thirteen in a few weeks. She didn't care that her father was rocking her like he used to when she was little, she just wanted him to hold her close.

She wrapped her legs around her dad's waist and heard Cassian take a shaky breath, "Ezra why don't you go ahead? We'll be right there."

Celia didn't see or hear her brother's response, but she was grateful to her dad when he moved to the couch, settling down and bringing her to him. She pressed herself tighter against him.

"Lia, what happened?" he whispered in her ear. This only made her sob more loudly, "Ssh, cutie," he murmured as the little girl's breathing became more erratic, "It's okay."

"Celia." her mom's voice made her sit up and Nesta was there, who with only a few steps was behind the couch. She'd seen Andra and Nora's heads pop up from the kitchen as well, but Ezra had called them back and they were gone immediately.

Nesta took a seat next to Cassian, her arms outstretched toward her daughter, but her gaze fixed on her husband's. Celia launched herself at her mother, but kept an arm around her father's neck and Cassian took her hand, squeezing it in his.

The child's tears had soaked his pajama shirt and Nesta's chest tightened. She brushed Celia's hair until she had a clear view of her daughter's face, "What's wrong?"

"I have-" she sobbed, "I had to solve a problem and I couldn't and no one-" every breath she tried to take was broken by a sob. She sniffled, "And then Nora kicked me out of the room and Cal- Cal didn't want to help me and he left and you were-" she ran the hand that wasn't clasped in Cassian's over her face, "You were helping Andra." then she turned to her dad and started crying again, "And then you and Ezra sent me away."

Nesta felt tremendous guilt and was about to apologize to her, for ignoring her, but then Celia said something that completely broke her heart.

"You don't love me like you do the others," she sobbed into her mom's chest.

"Oh, Lia." murmured Cassian, in a hurt tone. He slipped a hand between Nesta and his daughter's stomach and pulled her away from her mother, forcing the woman's arms off Celia.

Cassian sat her back down on his lap and looked into her eyes, leaning down just enough to be at the same height as her. His brow was furrowed and she could see how upset those few words had made him.

"That's absolutely not true." he whispered in a firm tone, watching the redness of his little girl's face, the tears that continued to fall undisturbed.

Nesta stroked her hair, "Your father is right." she added.

"You are all on exactly the same level. There's no such thing as loving one child more than the other," he repeated, "It's not possible."

Celia took more shaky breaths, struggling to speak, "Cal and Nora hate me now."

Nesta felt bad for her little girl. She didn't dare imagine how long she had kept those doubts to herself, couldn't imagine how she could think those things. How she had let one of her children feel that way without even noticing.

"Cal could never hate you and you know it. He loves you too much. Exactly like me and Mom and Nora too, even though it might not seem like it." said Cassian. Then he ran a thumb under her eyes, wiping her cheeks. "I'm sorry if we made you feel left out today, that wasn't our intention, okay?"

Celia nodded, but resumed crying.

"We're a family, we all love each other so much, but we're also numerous," Nesta tried to explain, "It may happen sometimes that no one is available to help you at that moment, but that doesn't mean they don't love you or care about you less than the day before."

Cassian squeezed her hips, "Why didn't you tell us this before?" he asked her, later clarifying, "That you were feeling this way."

Celia shrugged, resting her hands on her daddy's chest, just as she did when she was little.

"I don't want it to get to a point where you can't hold back anymore and you have to hide to cry, okay?" said Cassian to her. Nesta looked at him and saw that his eyes were glazed over. She placed a hand on his leg, but the man's attention didn't shift from his daughter's face. "If you feel that Mama and I and anyone in this house are misbehaving with you, you come tell us and we'll talk about it, without the need to yell at each other and fight." he gave her a hesitant smile. Then he wrapped her up and pulled her against him, kissing her temple, "Please don't think I love you any less just because I'm a stupid, clueless big man who can't manage his time optimally, okay?"

Celia nodded against his neck, starting to play with the end of his hair strands.

"And I'm sorry if I made you think that for even a second," he closed his eyes as he whispered those words to her.

"I love you dad." said Celia in a muffled voice.

Cassian held her tighter to his chest, "I love you cutie."

Nesta cleared her throat, laying a hand on her daughter's back, "I'm sorry if I didn't pay enough attention to you today too and if I sent you out of the kitchen," she murmured, urging her to look at her. Celia broke away from Cassian, getting off his lap and launching herself at her mother, who caught her and stifled a laugh at the sudden weight.

God, she was growing up so fast, too.

"I love you, Lia." she whispered to her, "Don't ever doubt that, please."

"I love you mom."

They stayed rocking their baby girl for a few more minutes, then Cassian made a joke about the food that was getting cold in their plates, and all three of them got up from the couch and walked into a particularly quiet kitchen.

Nesta took a seat next to Andra and kissed her forehead as she took a green bean from the serving plate with her small hand.

Cassian glanced at all his children present and blew out a cough, "Maybe we should talk about eavesdropping as well."

Ezra turned to Celia, who was wiping her face with her napkin despite the fact that it was already dry, "Sorry for making you feel that way." he smiled at her, "I love you."

Celia nodded, focusing on her food.

"I want to apologize too," Nora said more softly, playing with the edge of the tablecloth. "I shouldn't have kicked you out of the room like that, and if you want to later I'll help you with the problem."

Her sister looked at her and opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, "I would love to."

"Sorry." said Andra, with a rather cute frown on her face. She probably didn't quite understand what had happened, but Celia appreciated either way. Even as she gave her the widest smile as she said, "I love you."

Celia looked at everyone at the table, swallowing noisily, "I love you."

She would talk to Cal another time.

They ate between jokes and pranks and after dinner they all jumped on their parents' bed, cuddling until they all fell asleep there. Cassian and Nesta were forced to give up their room for the night, taking refuge in the guest room instead, but not before showing their children how much infinite love they felt for each of them.

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[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Getaway Car

Summary: Reader finally explains some things to Dean and enlists him to help them with it.

TW/CW: Dean Winchester x Reader. Angst.  

Requested?: Yes, a lovely Anon said, “Could I request a Dean x reader based off of the song Getaway Car by Taylor Swift??”

Word Count: 1,372

A/N: This one kicks off with a flashback which will be italicized. This is also probably not what you had in mind but this is all I could come up with. I’m sorry if it’s shit. Requests are open and as always love to all!

Prompt: Getaway Car by Taylor Swift

[A/N: I know I’ve used this gif before buuuut I like it so here it is again lol]

Your POV

    A group of bodyguards tear off after us as Bela and I take off running across the alley way to the parking deck where she says our getaway car is waiting. She leads me to a sleek, black, Chevy Impala and climbs into the passenger seat, I climb into the backseat and yell at the guy in the driver’s seat, “Go, go, go!” The guy peels out of the parking deck and I don’t bother to look back as we put distance between us and that building.

    Finally, after several hours, we stop at a bar where Bela and I have a car waiting which I go to get in but she heads for the bar, “I need food and a drink before we head out.”

    I sigh and follow after her as do the two guys to which the Chevy Impala belongs to. Once inside the dim light of the noisy bar, I make myself comfortable at a high-top table and am soon joined by the two guys and Bela after they put in orders at the bar. Bela takes a seat on my right and hands me a drink. I take a sip as the shorter of the two guys takes a seat to my left and the other sits across from me. Bela clears her throat, “I suppose introductions are in order. (Y/n), these are the Winchester brothers, Dean,” she motions to the one sat on my left, “and Sam,” finishing by motioning to the one across from me.

    I nod, “Nice to meet you. You guys hunters too?”

    They both nod and Sam answers, “Family business.” I nod in understanding as Sam and Bela drop into a conversation about some nerdy subject but Dean seems rather interested in me even though he’s pretending to pay attention to what Bela and Sam are discussing.  

    Sometime later, after the food has been delivered, thankfully Bela ordered me a nice, big, juicy burger, and we’ve eaten most of it Bela drops from her stool to go hustle in poker and Sam dips out to the car, mentioning something about grabbing a book for Bela. This leaves Dean and I alone. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice him watching me. I wipe my mouth and swallow the fries in my mouth, “What?”

    He shrugs, “Nothing, just wondering.”

    “About?” I inquire before tossing a couple more fries into my mouth.

    “How you and Bela met and why you still hang around her,” he replies, “She betrayed us pretty soon after we first met her.”

    I laugh, “She’s my cousin and she doesn’t have anyone else. It’s kind of hard to get rid of her.” He nods as he goes back to his food.

    The rest of that night, he and I spent getting to know a little more about each other and somewhere along the way, I found myself way too interested in him. That’s when I decided that I would leave tomorrow morning with Bela and pray that I’d never run into him again. Unfortunately, Bela had other ideas. When she later returned to the table, she announced that Sam had found the four of us a case and we’d be going with them the next morning.  

    I suppose that in retrospect, I should thank her. She set into motion one of the wildest rides I’ve ever been on. Dean and I grew pretty close over the span of just a couple of weeks and by the time Bela decided it was time to part ways from the Winchester brothers, I stayed behind with my boyfriend, Dean. All of that, however, led us to where we are now. I’ve just gotten back from a case a few days ago that I took on my own without telling the guys. It’s not the first time either. Every now and then I get uncomfortable being so close to them and I have to dip out for some time to myself.

    Mine and Dean’s relationship hasn’t been smooth sailing but it’s been manageable. The first few times I left without saying anything aside from a note that I’d be back soon and was on a case, he shook it off pretty quick but the more cases I took by myself, the longer it would take for him to shake it. I’ve realized that once again, my fear of letting anyone get too close has caused me to push him too far away. He’s hasn’t said a word to me since I got back from my case three days ago. I make my way to his room and knock softly on the door. He opens the door but quickly turns his back to me and sits down on the bed. “Dean, I-” I try to explain but he interupts me.

    “If you want to leave just leave. You can’t keep coming and going like this,” he doesn’t even look at me but I can hear it in his voice that he’s hurt.

    “That’s not it. I-” I begin trying to explain again.

    “Then what is it? Do you have another boyfriend that you have to tend to or something?” he asks heatedly.

    “Damn it, will you let me talk?” I respond in frustration, “I don’t have another boyfriend. I just get claustrophobic sometimes. It’s hard for me to withstand being as close with someone as I am with you for very long because my gut always tries to tell me that it’s about to blow up in my face.”

    “So, you’re saying I smother you,” he scoffs, “I get it I guess I just love you too much. That’s fine I’ll just stop that then.” There’s a strong tone of sarcasm and a tinge of spite in his words.

    “What the hell did you expect, Dean? You should’ve known from the jump that I have issues. Hell, the first time we ever saw each other, you were driving the freaking getaway car. Does anyone in our line of work ever actually manage to have healthy relationships and decent mental health?” I ramble, “I can’t help that nothing in my life has ever been good and permanent. I’m just conditioned to expect the worst.”

    “You don’t seem to be trying to change that conditioning. Am I not worth it?” he spouts back.

    I huff as I take a seat on the other side of the bed with my back to him, “Dean, I’m trying. I really am. Most of the time when I’m away I’m thinking of ways to fix this. I just never can come up with anything solid or that works because I just repeat the freaking cycle a few weeks later.” By now, I’m struggling to hold back tears. I really do want to try to make this work. I love him too much to just give up but it’s proving hard to do it alone. I know I’m hurting him and that makes me hurt worse because I can’t seem to do anything about it. “I can’t do it alone, Dean. If you still want me to stay then I need your help,” I whisper.

    He sighs and I feel the bed shift as he gets up and makes his way over to kneel in front of me, “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something sooner and been more cooperative about it. I just couldn’t help but think the worst.” I refuse to look him in eye and stare at my hands as he wraps them in his own, “Let’s start by communicating, okay? From now on when you need a breather just let me know so I can give you some space.” I nod and he lets go of one of my hands to raise my chin so that I am looking at him. “I love you. I’m right here and I’ll do whatever you need me to do to help you fix this.” I nod so he stands and pulls me up with him to wrap me in a hug. Maybe I can do it this time. I really want to get to where I don’t have to take breathers so much but that’s going to take some time. I’m just happy to have his help now.

Masterlist

Taglist: @emiijemii​ @akshi8278​ @deandaydreaming​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @desimarie12​ 

[dreaming-in-alicante]

Chapter four is up! Sorry about the longer wait, life was busy.

Also @fair-but-wilde-child here you go!

Chapter 4: Reflux

Grace paused repeatedly to drink in the sights and sounds of the Shadow Market around her as she followed Christopher around to different stalls. He got the nightshade he had wanted, as well as a variety of other ingredients.

“Mr. Lightwood!” a werewolf man called as they approached his stall. “We’ve just gotten fresh thorn-apple in.” He rummaged around in a cart and pulled out some samples, and placed them out for Christopher to inspect. The vendors all seemed to know him, and it was impressive watching him haggle for each item. Grace didn’t know if she would have the patience to argue with someone for that long, but Christopher knew exactly what he was doing.

While he negotiated a price on the thorn-apple Grace began, already, to mentally prepare herself for the ride back. With Christopher. Alone. She had felt like a fool earlier, even if Christopher remained oblivious. The realization had slowly crept up on her in the past few days that she might want to be more than friends with him.

She had become closer with both Lucie and Kamala in recent weeks. Kamala had shared her birth name with her; Grace was very honored that she wanted Grace to be one of the few people who used that name. Something had been bothering Grace, however, whenever she thought about and compared her new friendships. She realized that her relationship with both girls felt much different than that with Christopher. At first she attributed this to the fact that since they spent so much time together in the lab, she was simply closer with him than either girl. But she had spent plenty of time with both Lucie and Kamala now. Whenever she was with them, it seemed that more were always merrier, but she never felt that way with Christopher. While Grace didn’t necessarily mindHenry being in the lab (he was truly a brilliant scientist), or Thomas on his occasional visits, she greatly preferred when it was just the two of them.

The most obvious sign that something was different, however, was that she had started to notice Christopher in a way that she didn’t with either girl, or anyone else really. Earlier that week, while she watched him talk with Henry, the unexpected thought went through her head that he was really incredibly handsome. One might not notice at first, with his thick glasses and messy appearance, but now that Grace had noticed, she was constantly aware. It was starting to get ridiculous. When he had grabbed her arm excitedly earlier that morning, she told herself firmly that her heart was only racing because he had pulled her into a jog to get downstairs. Then in the carriage, by the Angel…she was grateful he thought her flushed face was from being too warm. She had never thought about how close people were when sitting in a carriage. Not that she hadn’t been close to him before, when they looked over notes together, but that was in the huge space of the lab. Enclosed in the small space of the carriage, it felt so intimate. Grace was determined to keep her composure on the return trip. She treasured her friendship with Christopher and she was terrified to ruin it by being ridiculous.

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

When Christopher was completed with his shopping and they started back to the carriage, Grace cleverly engaged him in what promised to be a long discussion about the chemical properties of nightshade. Beyond being an interesting subject in itself, Grace expected that it would keep her mind occupied. Everything was going exactly as planned until Christopher paused to double-check his list and purchases, and Grace forced her eyes away, watching the city pass in dimly-lit nighttime. As the carriage approached the end of the block, she frowned as she noticed an odd, pulsing red glow that seemed to come from around the corner.

“Christopher, do you see that strange light?” she asked, still studying the view outside.

“Most peculiar,” he said as he also looked out. “Perhaps a colored light cover?” They finally reached the intersection, and Grace noticed that it was oddly empty. Not that many people were out at that time of night, but it was unusual to see absolutely no one. And then, as they passed through the intersection, they finally saw that the light came from a figure in the middle of the street dodging and fighting something…demons! The darting figure must be a shadowhunter.

“Anna,” Christopher said suddenly, going a bit pale. He motioned the carriage to stop and was jumping out before Grace understood what was happening. His sister, of course – her unusual red necklace that glowed when demons were around, Grace realized, hence Christopher’s urgency to go help. She hopped out of the carriage to find Christopher with a seraph blade already blazing. “I have to go help – Come help if you feel ready, but otherwise probably best to stay in the carriage!” he told her hastily, then began running down the street towards the fighting.

Grace took in the scene at the end of the street. Anna and someone else – Kamala she realized – were holding off three demons that resembled giant scorpions with wrinkled faces. Anna fought to keep two at bay, her electrum whip arcing furiously through the air, while Kamala attacked the third and largest demon. A fourth demon laid dying on the street near them. The creatures were ridiculously fast – especially their long, barbed tails which moved almost too swiftly to see. As Grace watched, Christopher reached them, seraph blades blazing, and engaged one of the demons that Anna held back.

Grace felt frozen. She had so little experience fighting, she had only been training for a few months, but she had spent too much of her life on the sidelines already. Grace resolved to get closer to offer help, but keep out of everyone’s way. She had two daggers, which seemed pitiful compared to the monsters before her, but she was an excellent shot, especially with her skills enhanced by an Accuracy rune – she would make her throws count.

She raced down the street, pulling out a dagger. As she approached the battle, she saw Kamala falter, barely knocking away the demon’s tail as it simultaneously grabbed at her with its oddly monkey-like hands. Anna and Christopher were fighting side-by-side, too far away to help. Grace reacted faster than she realized she was capable of, sending her dagger flying with perfect precision into a bulbous yellow eye. The demon hissed, writhing, as Kamala called “Good throw!” and continued to attack it.

Grace was upon the battle now and planned to hang back and wait for an opening, when from the corner of her eye she saw a fifth demon appear, looming behind Christopher. She began running in his direction and swiftly drew her second dagger as she shouted, “Kit, behind you!”.

She struck true again, halting the demon as Christopher turned. Anna lashed out her whip, catching the attention of the demon Christopher had been battling as he engaged the new foe. Grace hastily pulled her seraph blade and named it. She came up behind the demon and, with it distracted by Christopher, took a swipe. The tail moved so quickly that although she aimed for the center, her strike only cut off the very needle-like tip. The demon whirled around hissing and, to her dismay, knocked Christopher clean off his feet with its lashing tail. It bore down on Grace, snapping sharp teeth. She defended with her seraph blade but was unable to land a hit on it. She was vaguely aware that Kamala had now joined Anna, having dispatched the largest demon.

The demon Grace fought suddenly shrieked and stumbled, and she saw that Christopher had gotten back to his feet, and successfully cut off a large part of its tail. This was distraction enough for Grace to drive her seraph blade into the demon’s chest. It collapsed with a final hiss, spraying ichor from its wound, and crumbled to dust. Christopher quickly went to help fight the remaining two demons, Grace following behind. With the odds now turned four-to-two, they made quick work of the remaining demons. Soon all that remained were piles of dust and the four shadowhunters breathing hard as they recovered.

“Well,” Anna said as she coiled her whip, “a much more exciting patrol than I anticipated. It appears Kamala and I disturbed a nest of them. We are lucky that you two showed up when you did.” She leveled an assessing gaze at her brother and Grace. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but what exactly are you two doing running around together at this hour?” she asked.

“Shadow market,” Christopher answered, “I was out of nightshade, and Grace had never gone there.” He stood a bit awkwardly, and Grace wondered if he was alright.

“Well we’re very grateful for your assistance,” Kamala said, shaking dust out of her long braid. “Excellent job for your first real demon fight Grace!” she said smiling, and Grace smiled back. Anna and Christopher also offered congratulations. Grace couldn’t wait to tell Jesse – he’d be proud of her. She thought also, he’ll be jealous I killed my first demon before he did, and smirked.

“Well, let’s head to my flat, it’s not far. We should get all this ichor off,” Anna declared “and perhaps some iratzes.” Grace’s front was quite covered in ichor, and Anna and Kamala were also a mess. Somehow, ever-untidy Christopher had ended the battle with the least-soiled clothing. Anna looked appraisingly at her brother. “Are you feeling alright, Kit?” she asked, clearly noting his stiff posture like Grace had earlier.

“I believe I will need a few iratzes,” he replied, wincing, holding a hand to his side. “I likely didn’t notice earlier with all the adrenaline, but it seems the demon’s tail did catch me quite hard in the ribs.”

Grace couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty. If only she had been faster, managed to cut off the tail…but no, she assured herself, she had done well. The others had all said so. She had done well with her daggers and held her own in the fight. Christopher would be fine after a few iratzes. Still, she couldn’t help aiming worried glances his way the entire carriage ride.

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

Anna’s flat was small but cozy, the main room full of mismatched furniture. Anna got water and rags for them to clean off with, then started fussing over Christopher. Kamala, obviously familiar with the place, pulled Grace into a messy bedroom. “I think I have a spare blouse here that you can wear,” she said, “since you got most of the ichor on the front of you.” She rummaged around in the wardrobe and pulled out a pale blue blouse with a triumphant “aha!”

They cleaned themselves off and began changing. Kamala was several inches taller than Grace so the blouse was oversized on her, but it would do until she got home. She slipped out of the bedroom while Kamala finished putting on a simple dress, and reentered the main room.

Anna brushed past her, going to change, and Grace walked around to the couch…where she found Christopher wearing only his trousers and undershirt. It covered him, of course, but it was a thinner material that she could see marks through, and because the sleeves were short, she could see most of his arms. By the Angel, stop staring! she scolded herself. She had seen him in just shirtsleeves many times in the lab. She had seen more of his arms the time his sleeve caught fire in lab than right now.

“You’re alright then, Grace?” he asked. She forced her eyes to his face, and immediately discovered this was not better. He had removed his glasses, presumably while getting cleaned up, and now there was no barrier to hide his spectacular eyes. Compose yourself Grace! she chided herself.

“Yes, I’m completely fine,” she replied, settling herself on an armchair. “Nothing more than some scratches. Are you okay?” His movements were less stiff as he leaned forward a bit, but she was still concerned.

“Perfectly fine!” he answered blithely. “Anna’s iratzes are fixing me right up. Honestly, I’ve had much worse lab accidents.” Given what she’d seen just this month in the lab, Grace didn’t doubt this. She could see evidence of old burns and other scars along the whole length of his exposed arms.

“What was your worst lab accident?” she asked curiously.

“Perhaps the time I spilled an entire bottle of sulfuric acid on myself,” Christopher said thoughtfully, “although there have also been some nasty explosions.”

Kamala reentered the main room then. “Anna and I will need to head to the institute to check in and submit a report,” she told Grace, “so we can drop you at your apartment.”

“Thank you,” Grace replied. “Hopefully I’ll be back soon enough that Jesse won’t be worrying.”

“He’ll always be worrying – he’s an older sibling,” Anna said, now changed into a plain shirt and trousers. “Speaking of which,” she continued, “let me see if you need another iratze before we leave, Kit.”

Grace got up quickly – perhaps too quickly – and started over to the door to wait. She kept her gaze determinedly away from Christopher as Anna checked him over. Kamala joined Grace, a querying eyebrow raised. Grace could not help blushing, which caused Kamala to giver her a knowing smirk, making Grace blush even harder.

“I think we’ll have something to talk about at training tomorrow,” Kamala said with a grin. Grace was relieved when Anna joined them to leave. She insisted that Christopher just stay at the apartment to sleep, and he was tired enough that he agreed.

It was a surprisingly pleasant ride home. Grace had little prior interaction with Anna, but either because of Christopher, Kamala, Jesse, or a combination of the three, she did not seem to resent or distrust Grace for any of her prior actions, which was a relief. They dropped her at home and as they exchanged goodbyes, Anna commented “I expect I’ll see more of you in the future Grace,” Anna said, “as my brother’s lab partner.” She winked at Grace before hopping back into the carriage.

By the Angel, Grace thought, how does she know?Well, at least Christopher remained oblivious.

[milky-pillow]

Song: Do I Wanna Know? (Arctic Monkeys) Characters: Yumeno Gentaro, Arisugawa Dice, Amemura Ramuda, Reader Relationship(s): Yumeno Gentaro/Reader

originally posted on ao3

“Have you got color in your cheeks? Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the type, That sticks around like summat in your teeth?”

Gentaro scans your face as you twirl the straw in your cup. With the silence between you two, he finds it hard to read what could be going through your mind.

Before he gets the chance to break the silence, you open your mouth, “it feels like you’ve changed since we’ve last spoken.”

Gentaro’s expression falters for a second before reverting back to his mask. The mask that you oh-so despised. He doesn’t respond immediately, as if trying to put some thought into his response.

“What do you mean?” his voice and smile seemingly taunting you.

“You’re asking me? I mean,” you pause and turn your gaze to the busy crowds of people in the streets, “it’s like you’re trying to avoid me.”

“Me? Avoid you? Why would I?”

“Look, it’s just a feeling. Right, you’re not avoiding me-- at least I hope you’re not. Well, I guess with you and I seeing each other face-to-face helps prove me wrong,” you trail off, bringing your drink to your lips. The sweetness of it satisfies your tongue, no residue being left on your lips as you place the cup down.

Gentaro laughs and taps the table to get your attention, “hey, cheer up! How about we order a cake to eat?”

Gentaro calls over a waiter to order a cake he thinks you’d like while you watch his expression. You repeat to yourself that he’s not avoiding you, that you’re being paranoid, that he wouldn’t purposely put distance between you two. He glances over at you to make sure you’re okay with the flavor, and you respond to his action by nodding with a smile. It warms your heart that he checks with you before ordering.

“I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week, How many secrets can you keep?”

“So,” you begin, breaking the second period of silence, “you’re participating in another division rap battle? I noticed you’ve been busy with Arisugawa and Amemura.”

A snicker escapes his lips as he drums the table with his hands, “you don’t have to call them that, you know. They see you as a friend, not someone of different status.”

Heat creeps it’s way up your face while you stutter, “r-right. Dice and Ramuda then. But you didn’t answer my question; though I take it you are?”

“Mhm,” he hums, pulling out a notebook, “I’ve been preparing for them, but I guess I’ve hit some sort of writer’s block.”

“You? Hit writer’s block? Liar. I don’t believe it,” you laugh as you call out his lie.

He pouts, “okay, so maybe it was. I don’t like how you call it out so easily now. Remember when you fell for everything I said?”

“Honestly, that feels like forever ago,” you give him a soft, yet sad smile, noticing him staring right back at you with a gentle expression.

“(Do I wanna know?) If this feelin' flows both ways?”

Your eyes light up when your long-awaited cake arrives. Drool begins to pool in your mouth as you thank both the waiter and Gentaro. You couldn’t wait to dig in. When your eyes meet Gentaro’s, you feel a sense of disassociation from him. As much as you wanted to dismiss it, you felt yourself becoming attached to the thought that he’s hiding something from you.

You push the cake towards him to share some of it. When he waves his hand to signal he doesn’t want a piece, you place a fork in his hand.

“You really wanna share it with me, huh?” he teases, giving in and taking a slice.

Finishing the slice on your plate, you grin at him, “what? You didn’t want a taste of this delicious food? How’d you know what flavor to pick? This tastes amazing!” While your exclamation draws the attention of some customers around you, your eyes continue to sparkle.

After persistent convincing, Gentaro takes another slice. Your heartbeat accelerates when he meets your eyes with a smile that has never felt so genuine. If you had to guess, he was either really enjoying the cake, or he was getting comfortable. Feeling accomplished, you helped yourself to your drink and another small slice.

“Woah, what’s the sudden burst of energy from?” Gentaro touches your hand to get you to slow your pace.

You lift your fork halfway to your mouth, stopping to respond, “no reason.”

Gentaro can only shrug, knowing how stubborn you can get when he tries to pry.

“Crawlin' back to you Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do”

By the end of the evening, you had a takeaway box of a half-eaten cake and a smile plastered on your face. The both of you walked out the building side-by-side, catching up about things you had in common. You enjoyed yourself so much, you forgot to ask Gentaro what he thought.

“Um, Gentaro?” you change the subject by posing your question, “knowing you’re busy and all, when would I get to see you again?”

Teasingly, he sticks out his tongue, “when either of us choose to reach out I guess? Kidding, I’ll give you a call to let you know when I’m free.”

You could sense his lie, but you didn’t want to start an argument by mentioning it. Before he could tell you he was lying, you split off with him and rushed back to your apartment.

You could only imagine what could happen between the two of you. With a wave of emotions hitting you from a blind spot, you lay in bed and ponder to yourself. Becoming bored of the plain white ceiling, you turn to your side to reach for a drink, only to find you’ve run out.

A sigh escapes your lips as you head to get a cup of juice for yourself. You lean against your kitchen counter and stare at the paintings that filled your blank walls. The colors look more blended together than usual, the cold tones screaming out to you. Tearing your eyes away, you opt to look out your window. Though your scenery was filled with other buildings and streetlights, the view of the sunset was still visible. For a brief moment, your lonely heart felt a little less lonely.

“So have you got the guts? Been wonderin' if your heart's still open And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts”

Ring! Ring! Ring!

It was your phone. Ring! Of course it was. Ring! Ring! Broken from your distraction, you place your cup down and bring your phone to your ears. With a simple tap, you were connected with the caller.

“Hello?” out of habit, the word slips right out.

“Y/n!” Ramuda excitedly beams, “you were just with Gentaro, right?”

“Yeah, why? Is he okay?”

“Of course, of course! I was just asking is all,” he seems to be holding back laughter. He covered his microphone and all you can hear is muffled bickering.

You sip on your juice while you wait for more, but when you don’t, you speak up, “um, Ra- Ramuda?”

Just as you speak, the call disconnects. Confusion seeps through your skin and into your very soul. Unable to connect the dots, you head to bed.

In the morning, you wake to a string of messages and missed calls. This rarely happens. No, this never happens. Squinting your eyes due to the light of your screen, you read the texts. They were all sent from Gentaro, but it was hard to tell whether or not he was the sender as it had gone back and forth between “sorry, that wasn’t me” to “that was a lie; it was me.” All of the missed calls were also from Gentaro, but you start to find it hard to believe he was the caller.

Testing your luck, you call back.

“Y/n! You finally picked up!”

“Gentaro?”

“Nope, this is Dice!”

“Oh,” you attempt to hide your disappointment with a question, “why do you have Gentaro’s phone? Not to sound rude, but I’m sort of confused.”

Ramuda snatches the phone from Dice and greets you, “mornin’ y/n! Could you come over? We want to talk to you about something. I promise it’s not anything bad! I’ll send the address to our office on this phone.”

“Hold on,” you blurt out before he can end it, “why can’t we talk about it over the phone? I mean, do- do I really have to go over there? Not that I can’t, but if it’s important it’s quicker over the phone, right?”

“Look, no time to explain. Just,” Ramuda takes a deep breath, “do it for me? If not then for Gentaro.”

Beep! Beep! Beep!

He ends the call before you could protest anymore. Seconds later, your phone dings with the address Ramuda was expecting you to go to. Who are you to displease a member of Fling Posse-- and even an ex-member of The Dirty Dawgs?

“I don't know if you feel the same as I do But we could be together if you wanted to”

Hesitance filled your body, heart pounding against your chest and filling your ears. With trembling hands, you open the door to Fling Posse’s office.

The moment you step inside, Dice and Ramuda stand up in excitement, “you came!”

“Of- of course,” you stutter in embarrassment, mentally scolding yourself for your stuttering.

They gesture for you to take a seat, and so you do. Sitting back down, their happy expressions falter. The acceleration of your heart rate doesn’t make you feel any better than you were already feeling.

“Let me get straight to the point, we need your help,” Ramuda says, not getting straight to the point.

Out of nervousness, you burst into uncomfortable laughter, “m- my help? I’m of no use to you, trust me, but what would you need me for?”

“Well, we just need you for one smallllll thing,” Dice chimes. They go on to explain that they need you to get Gentaro to be more open.

Ramuda claps his hands together, “so that’s the plan!”

You shake your head so much it felt as if your brain was going to shatter, “no way! I- I can’t ju- just do that! He’ll know something’s up for sure!”

“If it’s you, there’s no way he will,” he smirks at you.

Knowing you won’t be able to get out of the situation, you agree to follow the plan, “on one condition, though. You can’t make me do anything like this again.”

“Deal,” Dice and Ramuda simultaneously nod their heads.

“(Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day”

“Thanks for meeting up with me, I hope you weren’t busy or anything,” Gentaro smiles at you.

Your face burns as you take a seat and look around, “of course not, but this is definitely, uh, new?”

Cocking an eyebrow, Gentaro crosses his arms, “am I not allowed to invite you out?”

“You know what I mean. This fancy restaurant has nobody? It’s unusual. Also, I thought you originally invited Ramuda and Dice.”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. I heard this place was good and I was able to snag us spots. Ramuda and Dice couldn’t make it, so I opted for you; is that bad?”

“It’s not bad, but spots? The whole place is empty.”

Gentaro raises his hands guiltily while chuckling quietly, “you caught me. I may or may not have pulled some strings, but that doesn’t matter, does it?”

Liar. With no energy to call him out for his lie, you both order your food and eat in silence. While silence can be comforting, you felt like you had to talk. An uneasy feeling begins to settle in your stomach as you try to drown it with your food.

“Maybe I'm too (Maybe I'm too busy) Busy bein' yours (Bein' yours) To fall for somebody new”

Though you both made small talk throughout the night, time didn’t seem to pass. But whether you believe it or not, you were both in the back of a taxi heading to your apartment. Not for him to go into, but for him to make sure you would make it back safely.

“I got lucky being able to see you two days in a row,” you can’t stop yourself from smiling as you gaze out the window.

“Am I just that amazing?” Gentaro’s response makes you laugh. How is it that you’re enjoying the ride back? You can’t believe yourself and hope it doesn’t make you appear rude.

You nod and turn your head to look at him. He is amazing and you know that. If he was planning on doing this for his friends, he definitely sees you the same way he sees them. Nonetheless, you take in the moment and could only wish for what could be.

“Do you want me crawlin' back to you?”

END.

[lomlmarvel]

It’ll Always Be You II

Randall Carpio x fem!Reader Series

Part Two [Part One]

For the past few hours, you had been catching up on some reading. There wasn't much to do since classes hadn't begun yet. Hamish was getting ready for his first day of class by looking over his scheduling log and re-reading the material he was going to cover the first day. You felt like you didn't even need to attend his first class since you had heard him repeat his speech a dozen times in the past hour.

Lilith had gone to the store to buy groceries and toiletries. She returned and left again to go on a run. The den was quiet, other than Hamish's muttering in the corner of the room as he rehearsed his speech again. He had been making drinks in between and offering them to you while he practiced his speech. You had taken a few, but you could feel the alcohol start to intoxicate your body, and you didn't want to get drunk the day before classes began.

You didn't want to be drunk if Randall came back to the den and wanted to talk to you about what had happened earlier. Honestly, you hadn't stopped thinking about it since it had happened. Why did he keep leaning in if he was going to back out last second? Did he even mean to lean in, or did he even realize it? Did he have feelings for you? Did he know about your feelings towards him?

Your mind was buzzed with all the possibilities as to why Randall leaned in and why he pulled away quickly. Part of you had hoped that it was a mistake and that it meant the two of you would remain friends forever. But the other part hoped that he was as infatuated with you as you were with him. 

You took another large gulp of the alcoholic beverage that Hamish had prepared for you. It had been placed in your hand for the last 10 minutes, but your thoughts had been so busy with Randall that you had forgotten it was there. It was the afternoon, Randall should've been done with doing the last tour and checking in with everyone. He should've been at the den by now. That's if he decided to sleep in his room at the den. Maybe he decided to stay at his dorm to help the freshmen settle in their first night.

 It sucked, knowing this would be the busiest time of year for Randall. It meant you would have to deal with all the Order newbies with Hamish and Lilith, not that they weren't good company, but you preferred to be with Randall.

"What's wrong?" Hamish called out to you. He had been watching you for the past few minutes, seeing as you harbored the alcoholic beverage in your hand. You would usually take it all in one sip, but this time was different. He knew something was up when you showed up at the den by yourself and without Randall. The two of you were always together, even when Randall had to be working. 

"Nothing. Just tired of reading 'Hamlet' again. I finished 'Ready Player One' a couple of days ago, so this is the only book I have left," You replied, lifting the old cover of 'Hamlet' that was in your hands.

"You can get started on the philosophy readings you have to do--" Hamish started, but you cut him off.

"No, thanks. I have one day of summer left, and I do not want to spend it doing homework," You stated. Hamish smiled at you, placing his lesson plan on the table and walking over to you on the couch. 

"First off, Professor Krowchuk is thinking of adding three more books to the lesson plan, so you might want to rethink starting your reading now. Secondly, I know something happened with Randall," Hamish commented. You sat up from laying down and faced Hamish's concerned expression.

"C'mon, you can tell me," He softly said. He placed his hand over yours, and you smiled at him sweetly. 

"It's just--We were out by the tree earlier, and we were talking. I mentioned how I got into Krowchuk's class and when I turned to look at him, I didn't realize how close we actually were. I guess he didn't realize it either, but he wasn't pulling away. I figured I was finally going to shoot my shot and kiss Randall," You told Hamish, explaining what had been on your mind for the past few hours. Hamish stared wide-eyed at you, waiting for you to continue telling the story.

"And..."

"And, I started to lean in, because I thought he wanted to kiss me too, but then last second he pulled away. Pulled away, as in, he literally jumped two feet away from me to put distance between us. He got all weird, started packing up, and made some lame excuse about going back to the dorms. So I came here," You said, shrugging your shoulders at the memory. 

"Maybe he was just scared?" Hamish asked. You sent him a glare.

"It's Randall. He's not scared of shit."

"Look, maybe he just got nervous. Don't give up on him or yourself. Shoot your shot if he won't do it first," Hamish advised. You nodded and set your book down. 

"Thanks, Hamish." You pulled him in for a hug. When you pulled away, your phone vibrated in your pocket and saw a text from Jack.

Meet me at the Blade and Chalice for a drink? It's on me :) 

Oh, by the way, Randall's coming too

You showed Hamish the screen, and he shrugged. 

"Shoot your shot," He replied. You stood up and grabbed your sweater as you made your way to the door. 

When you arrived at the B&C, the two guys were sitting at a table with two beers in front of them. Randall immediately made eye contact with you the second you stepped into the room, but quickly avoided your gaze until you stood two feet from them.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Jack greeted you. You smiled and took the seat in the middle.

“How was orientation?” You asked. Grabbing what you assumed to be Randall’s beer and took a sip out of it. He stared at you for a moment before looking down at his hands.

“Let me get you a drink. I promised I would,” Jack said, watching you set the bottle back down in front of Randall.

“No, it’s fine. Randall doesn’t mind, we share beers all the time,” You responded. Jack turned to look at Randall, who nodded in return. He gave you a look before answering your question.

“It was fine. Didn’t really need to have a tour. You know Pete would talk about it all the time, I have like a mental snapshot of the map”

“He was rejected by his tour guide,” Randall cut in after Jack. You stared back at Jack, who rolled his eyes.

“I’m not interested in her,” Jack replied. His attention fell to the corner of the room where a posse of freshmen was seated.

“You into him or her? Or the other him?” Randall asked Jack, bumping his shoulders. You leaned over the table and punched Randall in the arm.

“Ouch!” Before you could respond to Randall, Jack cleared his throat to get your attention.

“What do you know about the Hermetic Order of The Blue Rose?” He asked. You looked at Randall, smirked, and turned back to Jack.

“It’s a crock of shit,” You stated. Randall agreed and discreetly pulled your chair closer to his. You turned your head to catch Randall leaning next to you, with his stare already on you. You sent him a small smile, which he returned.

“I think they may have been recruited, and I’m trying to figure out what they have in common.”

“Besides being...” Randall asked.

“Elitist assholes?,” You replied to Randall, causing him to chuckle.

“Hey, a lot of good people are members. Michelle Obama, Warren Buffett, Oprah,” Jack defended himself. You gave him a serious look and heard Randall shuffle next to you. You turned around, and he was starting to talk.  Did he move his chair so the two of you would be touching legs?

“You know who’s also supposed to be members? Bad people, like Benito Mussolini, George W. Bush. Oprah,” Randall said. He glanced at you and noticed you staring at him.

“For people that don’t believe, you two sure know a lot about them,” Jack observed. You turned away from Randall’s stare.

“Randall’s Wikipedia smart, and I’m just the unfortunate one who listens to him talk all day,” you started. Randall softly kicked your foot with his. “Look, even if they do exist... I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

Jack gave you a glare and took a sip of his beer. “Why is that,” he asked, a hint of hurt in his tone.

“They want sheep, and from what I remember, you’ve got a mind of your own,” you replied. Jack nodded and raised his bottle to you.

“Well, who wouldn’t want unlimited power?” Jack commented. The three of you looked at each other and nodded.

“I have to do something, so I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Jack said as he looked at you. You nodded and pulled him in for a hug.

“I’ll see you later. Thanks for the beer, Randall,” Jack said, turning to the dark-haired male next to you.

“See you around,” Randall replied. The two of you watched as Jack walked out of the bar. An awkward silence settled as you turned to look at each other. You weren’t sure whether to bring up what had happened a few hours ago or pretend that it never happened.

“So, Jack seems real--”

“Hey, sorry about earlier-”

You and Randall stared at each other, cutting each other off. Neither of you said a word, you kept looking into each other’s eyes. 

“About earlier, I just wanna say I’m sorry,” Randall was the first to talk. “I’ve been thrown off this entire week for some reason, and I don’t know what I was thinking. You’re my best friend, and I guess I just got caught up in the moment,” Randall stated. You felt your heart fall, and your throat tighten. You wanted to cry, but you kept in your tears. It was just like how you had thought, he never had feelings for you. 

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. It’s the beginning of the school year, we’ve got a lot of pressure. I don’t blame you,” You lied, placing your hand on his arm. He looked down at your hand and smiled. 

“C’mon, let’s go back to the den. I have a feeling these assholes are gonna start using bad magic soon,” you said. Randall nodded and laid a $20 bill on the table. The two of you got up and made your way out. 

-

The next two weeks were stressful for everyone.  Jack had managed to get involved with the Order, but you only found out because Randall had told you. Randall and Lilith had been hunting down this thing that was killing pledges. Hamish had been busy with his class, and you had been busy helping Lilith and Randall figure out what the creature was. You had found some books in the basement, but Randall said it would be quicker to just search on Google. Being how you were so in love with him (and majorly because you didn’t want to read all those old books), you followed his direction.

With Randall, the two of you had gotten back into your regular routine. It was as if nothing had happened. You never revealed that you did, in fact, have feelings for him, but since he clearly didn’t have any for you, you decided to not say anything. You treasured your friendship too much to risk losing it.

However, things got interesting one day. You had gotten back from your last class of the day and started prepping snacks for the movie night you and the Knights would be having. Yet, when you arrived, the front door was swung open. You entered the living room and began scanning the rooms. But a particular smell led you to the basement. There, you found ripped up clothes. You searched for a wallet and saw that it belonged to the one and only Jack Morton. You immediately called everyone else and went out to search for the newly-turned werewolf.

[defilerwyrm]

For the ask meme: burning bright, anything about the parts at the table with the Nein. You write their banter so well!

FIC SPOILERS BELOW!

Burning Bright on AO3

The entire dinner scene hit me like a bolt of lightning while I was working on this fic. It started with Beau’s outburst, and then Veth’s willful denial and subsequent fit, and I built the two scenes around that.

Diving into particulars….

“Uhm,” he said, intelligently, but quickly recovered and flashed his friends a smile. “It is most impressive. Certainly a step up from a tiny hut.”

A direct reference to the name of the spell. Originally it was Leomund’s tiny hut. I have no clue why in 5e Wizards decided to 86 the attribution names on so many spells like Otiluke’s resilient sphere and Tasha’s hideous laughter. Things like that always made me curious about the (what I assume were) PCs the spells were named after. I had thought maybe it was because the characters who diegetically invented them were specific to one setting, but in that case I don’t know why Bigby’s hand is still Bigby’s but Evard’s black tentacles are no longer Evard’s. I don’t like it. As an aside, Widowgast’s Nascent Nein-Sided Tower is, mechanically speaking, Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion. Anyway. Moving on!

It was delectable that Caleb wanted to impress him.

This boy hungry and not just for soup

Flustered, Essek tried to fend them off, but it was Caleb that did him in. It was always Caleb. The human took a large roll from his own plate, broke it in half, and offered one of these parts to Essek, who tried his best not to choke.

“You need to keep your strength up, ja?” Caleb implored him quietly.

The steady hand that accepted was a point of pride because it very much wanted to quake. The Kryn weren’t bread people, but...did he have any idea what this gesture would mean in Rosohna? Any inkling at all?

This is another one of those places where I delight in playing to cultural differences. What I’d had in mind for what that gesture—breaking food into two pieces and offering half to someone—WOULD mean in Rosohna was a bit nebulous, as I like to keep the reader guessing a bit and let their imagination fill in the blanks; but my rough idea was that it’s a courting gesture that signifies “I can and will provide for you, even if it means less for me.” An expression of selfless caregiving and an offer of partnership. Not wholly unlike a bird bringing food to a prospective mate.

And actually it’s a little bit funny coming from Caleb, who has fuck-all to his name but his name, when Essek is a rich bitch who answers directly to the Bright Queen.

Not that he was about to say it out loud, but he was a quick convert to this whole bread thing. To say that it won him over would be an understatement. That seemed to be a recurring theme here.

I imagine if I’d grown up never really eating bread and was introduced to it in adulthood I’d be like “Where have you BEEN all my life?!” But also: the bread is friendship, the bread is the Mighty Nein, the bread is communion in the spirit of sharing rather than politics and appearances and power plays—things he thought he was fine without until they were foisted upon him.

Somewhere in the course of the multiple conversations going on at one time, Jester got an Idea, as she was prone to doing. He became increasingly aware of her talking about kissing, of all things, and this culminated in her shouting above the din, cheeks flushed purple though he hadn’t seen her touch any wine: “I have an idea you guys! Why don’t we all go around and say how many people we’ve kissed?”

Jester is the most wonderfully convenient deus ex machina if you ever need to insert an awkward or embarrassing conversation among the Mighty Nein, because this is exactly the sort of shit she would do.

Jester leaped up and slammed her hands onto the table. “Caduceus you’ve never been kissed?! That’s so sad!”

The firbolg was unfazed. He merely shrugged and said, “It hasn’t come up and I haven’t gone looking. Not something I’ve ever thought about, really.”

Jester’s tail lashed back and forth behind her like an overstimulated cat. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Fjord went a bit wild-eyed at this. Caduceus smiled gently and said, “No thank you.”

Three things about this part:

1) Jester’s tail doesn’t get NEARLY enough mention in fic! If I’m playing (or writing) a character with a tail you can be damn sure you’re gonna know what it’s doing! Makes me wanna play a tabaxi tbqh.

2) Cad’s “No thank you” is the sum total of his sexuality, lol. Jester was raised in a pretty highly sexualized setting, didn’t really get out much before she fled Nicodranas, and can be pretty naïve, so she doesn’t really get the whole aroace thing; but it never crosses Cad’s mind that this would be “abnormal“ or ”sad” in any way—it causes him no distress, as it shouldn’t. This is yet another “Same planet, different worlds” moment.

3) Fjord is physically restraining himself from yelling “JESTER WHAT THE FUCK” lmao

Veth kept picking at it. “So you’re um. You know. Into the fellas?”

Beau snorted. “I could’a told you that months ago.”

“Yeah you could’a!” Veth pouted with a self-conscious curl to her shoulders.

I saw a comment on Tiktok that said Veth was being borderline homophobic, but that wasn’t my intent! It’s just that she inherited a certain blind spot for male queerness from her player, and as hard as she’d been trying to encourage Caleb to hook back up with his female ex, it never occurred to her that he had a male ex, too—and given that they’ve been so close for so long, she’s feeling pretty self-conscious about the fact that she never figured out that Caleb is bisexual in all that time, as well as kind of upset that no one—Caleb especially—told her. She’s having a moment of “Why didn’t I know this? Did you think it was going to change things between us? Did I make you feel unsafe?” And also a little bit of “Okay well, now I have to get him to hook up with TWO people AT ONCE because my boy deserves threesomes 😤”

Jester went goggle-eyed at him. “You’ve only been with one person?” she exclaimed. “But you’re like a hundred years old! And very handsome. I would have thought you’d get like, all the ladies.”

Ladies. Right.

Veth might not be the only one with a certain blind spot.

Beau gave her a funny look, snorting. “I dunno, he seems like the kinda guy who turns down those offers left and right.”

..…But Beau’s got his number, for more than one reason. She’s got super gaydar, for one, and has him pegged as the type who’s very choosy about his partners (also mind you, this was before demi!Essek was canonized by WoG, so I was still rolling with my hc that Essek got around when he felt like it).

The uproar was instantaneous. Everyone—almost everyone—started talking or shouting at once. Beau’s voice rang out among the din with, “HOLY SHIT ESSEK FUCKS.” Strangely pleased with himself, he downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and spent the next few minutes fending off increasingly prying, personal questions until the Nein grew bored with his lack of answers and someone changed the subject.

There it is, the line that spawned two entire scenes!

He was not a war mage, but he was experienced and wily, and he was damned good at what he did, and as long as there was breath left in his body, the Mighty Nein would not fall here.

Joke’s on me, motherfucker literally has the War Caster feat -_-

But like in my defense, that’s just what it’s called in the book. The feat just means that you have either the training or experience to cast well during a fight, which I see as not necessarily the same thing as a war mage, which was my way of saying an arcane caster who is a soldier.

Veth stared at her blankly as if willing herself not to understand. “Caleb? With who?”

She breathed steadily. “...Essek. Caleb and Essek.”

Beside her, Jester squealed and brought her fists to her face.

Veth was less enthused. “WHAT.”

Beau’s mental commentary here is dead on. Veth still doesn’t really trust Essek at this point and has been pretty vocal about that…despite being the one to declare him part of the Mighty Nein? Eh, she’s allowed to have complicated feelings on the guy, all things considered. But I find it kind of comical and very Veth (and very Sam) for her to be all full of zest for trying to get Caleb back together with the frigging Volstrucker who is actively working for his abuser and worst enemy but balk at him hooking up with Essek.

Jester “explained” in a delighted yell: “Caleb and Essek are gonna fuuuuuuck!”

I don’t know, is this too unsubtle to call foreshadowing? The line flowed naturally in the dialogue, but it’s also letting the reader know exactly what they’re in for next, lol.

“...He’s going to break that little elf twink, you know,” Veth said, sounding distant. Seemed she was having some difficulty processing. Not too surprising, considering how adamant she was about wanting their wizard to hook back up with his old flame, the fucking Volstrucker. “We’ve all seen his dick.”

This was 100% taken from Sam’s little throwaway line “It’s above-average” but it turned out to serve two purposes other than reminding the reader that all of these people have seen Caleb naked:

1) It’s yet another thing Veth thinks she understands about him but doesn’t. Caleb’s a top like Dalmatians are purple and if you disagree then I respect your right to be incorrect ;)

2) That said, it is, in fact, foreshadowing for the sequel, in which Essek experiences a great deal of frustration. (I haven’t touched the damn thing in weeks, feels like; I’ve been too busy with work, being exhausted from work, and being in a tizzy about my upcoming surgery.)

Fjord blurted out, “I’ll join you.”

Poor Fjord has had such an uncomfortable night!

Hoo boy that was a lot. Thanks for the ask, this was really fun!! And sorry it took so long; I work Saturday nights and things got really busy for a bit there.

[aarcanechaoss]

Party Mask

Whoops my hand slipped here’s another one :)

Amaya doesn’t like parties but she supposes she’s glad she was at this one

Amaya + William fluff

Amaya has no clue how she allowed Mimosa to get her to tag along. Gatherings like this usually spelled trouble and over the years she’s been a Magic Knight not once has she attended knowing how rowdy they were- courtesy of her Captain’s hangover rambles.

With a sigh she lifted what she hoped was a stronger drink to her lips. She pulled the cup away from her lips that wasn’t the nicest beverage but at least it was alcohol. Who knows maybe she’ll forget she was ever here. Wouldn’t that be a miracle?

“Hi Amaya!” Asta exclaimed as he and Yuno noticed the woman sitting by herself in the corner. Her table really only had her glass, William’s glass and Mimosa’s food for safe watching.

“Asta! Shh I don’t want people to spot me.” She hushed playfully. The magicless boy laughed.

“Why at the party if not to party?” Yuno asked.

“Mimosa.” She answered. “I don’t like parties I think they are a waste of time. So I’m compensating.” She waved her half filled cup around. It wasn’t really a lie she did think parties were nonsense but they also scared her, reminded her of her life in Harlow Manor.

“Klaus said you didn’t often join gatherings of any kind especially family ones.” Yuno said.

Amaya’s nose scrunched.

“I have a brother that’s it no other family and he’s busy.”

“I’m sorry he didn’t mean that to sound blunt. Do you want company?” Asta asked. Amaya gave a soft smile.

“If you two were of drinking age maybe.” She laughed. “Go mingle and make friends it’s good for you.” She dismissed them with a smile.

Her silence didn’t last long as someone new sat across from her. She sighed heavily hoping that was enough to get that she doesn’t want to talk.

“What’s a beautiful lady like you doing here on your own?” No apparently not. She glared at him, blond hair, cocky grin. Mantis cloak.

“Watching her Captain’s drink.” She grunted.

“You should be up partying.” He suggested.

“No.” Her eyes locked with his nearby Captain.

“Come on-“

“Jack!” She motioned for him to come over.

“Hello Amaya. Is Sekke bothering you? Kekeke.” He laughed. Sekke as she now knows went white as paper- she almost laughed.

“Yeah can you make him fuck off.”

“Go.” Jack said with a crazed grin. Off the bug went.

“Thanks Jack.” She said tilting her now empty cup towards him in appreciation. He laughed (keke’d?) and ruffled her hair. She scowled. “We’re friends but that doesn’t mean you can mess with my hair.”

She was quick to let the scarlet tendrils fall before gathering them to the side to make a quick braid making the Green Mantis Captain laugh once more before walking off- something about pissing off Yami.

Please. She hoped no one else would come over- maybe William? Yeah and he can tell her to go home considering he hasn’t been drinking maybe he’ll wisen up and they can go. No her Captain hadn’t looked at her all night par dropping off his drink a few times. She pursed her lips in annoyance she just wanted to leave.

“You’ll get wrinkles if you keep your face like that.” Vanessa said. “What’s wrong Dawnie?”

“I wanna go back to my room.” She grumbled drowning herself in the new drink Vanessa brought.

“Alone?” She teased. Amaya snorted.

“Yeah and who’d accompany me Ness? You?”

“Darling if we swung that way I would.” The women fell into a fit of giggles. Amaya sighed again.

“Seriously though I don’t want to be here.”

“I said that the first time we met.” Vanessa quipped. “You turned to me and said that’s nice but right now it doesn’t matter because you’re here anyway.”

Amaya groaned at the memory. They’d met during a mission where Yami had convinced her to join Vanessa, himself and Finrall on a mission to collect missing people from giant spider caves. The red head shivered not and entirely pleasant memory.

“Don’t use my words against me.” She pouted.

“Come on why don’t you just leave if you don’t want to be here?”

“Captain Vangeance-“

“What happened to William?” Amaya shot a look. “Okay sorry continue.”

“-has to know I’m leaving if I do. Plus I’m still watching his slowly emptying glass… I’m on my seventh and he’s on his fourth.” She huffed.

“Remind me why you aren’t the vice captain?”

“Perfect pretty boy Langris gets whatever he wants.” She joked. “I’m happy to fill in I don’t know about permanent vicing.” She shrugged honestly. The new liquid was stronger, it burnt her throat.

“It’s good right? Nicked it from the Silva table.”

“Fuck it’s strong. It’s good remind me to hunt it down next time Klaus’ group does something destructive with yours.”

“As long as I can join-“

“Definitely.”

“Vanessa stop fraternising with the enemy!” A drunk Magna exclaimed making the women laugh. “Oh it’s just Ama hewwooo.”

“Hello.”

“I’ll leave you and your drink be to take care of this.” Vanessa snickered.

“Good idea.”

Alone again. Really she couldn’t decide if she liked the company or her thoughts better either way she still had a drink in her hand. Her silver-grey eyes scanned the room, everyone else seemed to be having fun unlike her. She just couldn’t get passed her mental block of everything that happened when she was younger- maybe one day she would- stop. She shook her head this isn’t the time or place to think about that.

Yuno seemed to be having a good time with Asta being the brothers they were it was nice to see them behaving civil sometimes. Mimosa was with them playfully smiling and talking to Asta- Amaya smiled at that she knew the girl had a crush on him and it was sweet really. Noelle was nearby doing whatever that creepy angry-jealous stare was towards Asta. Amaya frowned at that. Klaus was drowning himself in snacks surprisingly which made anyone who knew him well stifle their laughter. Langris was glaring at his brother from across the room and Amaya felt the urge to mess with him crawl it’s way up her spine.

Her eyes scanned the room again this time her brows furrowed where did Will-

“Enjoying the gathering?” Amaya jumped almost spilling her drink with that. Her free hand was pressed to her heart. Purple eyes stared down at her with a mischievous glint. He knew he’d startle her.

“Not particularly if I’m honest.” William tilted his head to the side clearly a brow would be risen if he didn’t wear his mask. “Don’t like parties. Never have.”

“Why is that?”

“Nothing party pleasant.” She shrugged nursing her drink awkwardly.

“Well I’m partial to leaving if you are?” Her head snapped towards William who offered his usual kind smile.

“Please.” She breathed before quickly chugging the remains of her drink,

“Come along then.”

“So.” William began making sure Amaya was settled in the broom with him. “Why did you tag along if you don’t like parties?”

“Mimosa convinced me and being a noble takes the magic out of parties.” William paused and turned his head back towards her. Out of the five years they’ve known each other not once had she mentioned that. He considered themselves friends.

“A noble?”

“Huh? Why so shocked I thought the name Amaya Harlow was pretty obvious.”

“I apologise but no.”

“Oh. That’s fine it’s not worth worrying over I’d rather not be associated with it. I’m just Amaya Captain.”

“William please you’ve known me long enough to call me that.”

“What? Does Captain and sir not float your boat?” She teased. William’s cheeks flared thankfully his mask hid that- he hoped. “Plenty other names, leader, boss, hmm.”

“Stop your teasing.” He ushered only making her laugh more as her arms tightened around him.

“William?” He hummed in response, “Why are we going back to the base by broom?”

“For one you’ve been drinking and don’t trust you won’t fall asleep outside and I want to show you something first… if you remember it that is.” He joked.

“One- that only happened once and I’m not even drunk thank you. Two- Depends on if I find it worth remembering.” She said, her chin resting on his shoulder as she watched the trees wave in the breeze. She hummed softly, a lullaby her nursemaids sung to her and her brother. William smiled as he flew them behind the base to a small clearing. Amaya’s eyes narrowed, she trusted her Captain without any doubt but she was confused as to where they were going.

“Here we are.” He said allowing her to get off the broom and step towards a rose bush.

“A rose bush?”

“Amaya we’ve been friends for a while yes?”

“Yes. Why?” She turned around moonlight catching the scarlet braid. William bit his lip her wide silver eyes watching him carefully. Slowly he reached for his mask.

“I trust you, just as I trust Yami, Fuegoleon, Julius and Marx. So please allow me to show you what’s behind the mask.”

“William- you don’t have too.” She said brows furrowed. He smiled that kind smile, the one that always comforted her, as he lifted the mask away and dropped it beside the broom.

He shut his eyes not daring to see any pity or shame or disgust. Amaya stepped towards him. Eyes taking in each mark and shape, the colour of his hair and where the scar stopped.

“This is worth remembering.” She whispered. Slowly William opened his eyes, fear still lingered in his as they connected to her calm ones.

No pity.

No shame.

No disgust.

She seemed happy if anything. With a delicate hand she traced the edge of the scar.

“You truly believe that? Do you not find it hideous?”

“William with or without the mask I trust who you are as a person. A scar doesn’t make a difference, whether an injury or curse they only thing that matters is you.” She smiled. “I have my own scars that I keep hidden, that I worry people would judge so I understand in some way.”

“Thank you.” He whispered. Amaya pulled him in for a hug, he hurried his face into her neck while she trailed her fingers soothingly through his hair.

“You’re not hideous either William Vangeance. In fact I find you rather handsome and I’m sure many would agree.”

“Don’t tease me Ama.” He grumbled into her neck. She only laughed at his retort.

“Make me.” She said. William’s arms moved from around her waist, hands settling on her hips before settling his forehead against hers.

“So I’m rather handsome am I?”

Her face bloomed a pretty shade of pink.

“I see how it is you tease.” She snickers stepping out of his hold.

“I’m the tease?” William laughs in surprise.

“Oh yes keeping such a handsome face from me it’s quite teasing.” She said eloquently. William’s face flushing more. “Now that I’ve seen it I’ll be in shambles without it in my life.”

“Now that’s being dramatic.”

“Is it? Oh Captain my poor heart cannot take such a handsome man hiding himself from me whatever shall I do?” She announced dramatically. “I simply cannot stand it. Captain I think I might just faint.”

“Amaya I’m warning you,” William joked. Taking a tentative step forward he saw the gleeful look on Amaya’s face.

“A warning gods my body cannot take it, take me into your arms my dear captain for I shall die a happy woman to see your handsome face as I perish.” She stepped back again the grin somehow widening as she did.

“I believe you had plenty to drink Ama-“

“Don’t look at me like that I can’t stand it too handsome I shall go! It was nice knowing you world for my eyes have been blessed.” The scarlet haired woman continued to tease before dashing to the side of the clearing towards the base. William was quick to pull his mask back on and rush after her. Amaya’s laugh echoed through the small thick of trees making William grin.

They reached the base with Ama giggling as she stopped in the garden for a moment, William was quick to trap her in his arms and spin her around. A simple caught you hung in the air as they giggled.

After a moment they paused and she looked back at William. She pouted.

“Aw you put it back on.”

“I’m not quite ready for anyone else to see.” That seemed to appease her as her fingers danced along the intricate design.

“Captain? Amaya.” Within a flash they were apart.

“Oh hello everyone what are you doing out here?” Amaya asked as innocently as possible.

“Coming home from the party.” Langris said with a scowl. “What we’re you doing with the Captain.”

“She fell. She did get quite drunk I was just keeping her steady.”

“Yeah what Wi-The Captain said.” Amaya cringed she hoped that was kind of plausible. It definitely wasn’t. “Captain, I should head to my quarters now thank you for keeping me from falling. Mimosa shall we?”

“Okay Commander.” Amaya’s nose scrunched- she told Mimosa and everyone to only call her that during missions…

“Goodnight everyone.” Amaya waved feigning a slightly drunken walk.

Mimosa giggled to Amaya about how cute they looked making the twenty-five year old blush, William however wasn’t so lucky with the light teasing. Yuno found it most entertaining.

“So should we tell everyone Amaya is off limits now?”

[stxphxn-strange]

i’d love it if we made it

a/n: the title for this comes from “love it if we made it” by the 1975 and it’s part 1 of probably 3 in a new college au miniseries. tw for mention of/implied unhealthy parental and romantic relationships, also i feel like i should mention that this fic isn’t anti bruce at all, but he and tony butt heads a lot in this one bc sometimes that happens

summary: how was anyone supposed to navigate being honest with themself and their friends while still dealing with the past and fearing judgement in the present? and why did Valentine’s Day nearing somehow suddenly make Stephen and Anthony’s relationship everyone’s business? so Anthony hated Valentine’s Day, sue him!

Anthony yawned, leaning his head against Stephen’s shoulder. He smiled sleepily as Stephen wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, completely lost in the love in Stephen’s eyes and the background humming of an elevator’s inner workings. He probably could have fallen asleep then and there. It had been a long week, and Stephen and Anthony both were exhausted. The past few days had been a busy, hazy blur, and the weekend’s beginning would probably be the same.

“One day soon,” Anthony said, rolling his eyes as he yawned again, “We should honestly do nothing and sleep, or try to sleep.”

As much as he agreed, Stephen couldn’t (read: he didn’t try to) stop himself from teasing Anthony about what he’d said. “Who are you and what have you done with my ‘I can function on less than four hours of sleep’ hot mess of a boyfriend?”

Anthony exaggerated a swoon. “Aww, you think I’m hot?”

Bruce rolled his eyes from where he stood a short distance away. “I’m trying to listen to Hope talk about her plans for this Sunday, if you don’t mind keeping the flirting to yourselves.”

“It’s not complicated, we’re just going for dinner and a little walk around town,” Hope said. “I think I’m going to get Chrissy some roses too. What are you and Thor doing?”

“He told me has a surprised planned, and it’s on a need-to-know basis,” Bruce replied. “Which is such a Thor thing to say, even though he knows he can’t keep secrets very well. Do either of you know what he’s up to?”

“Brucie I don’t even know what you’re talking about, and I don’t think I’ve seen Thor all week,” Anthony mumbled. “What’s he doing?”

“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me,” Bruce said. “What are you two doing Sunday?”

“That might be a good day to catch up on sleep,” Stephen suggested, his answer more directed at Anthony.

Anthony nodded appreciatively. “Yes, yes yes yes. That’s the best idea you’ve had in awhile.”

“Fuck you, I have a ton of good ideas!” Stephen retorted.

“Fuck me yourself!” Despite the teasing tone in his words, Anthony was the picture of innocence as he snuggled closer to Stephen.

“Idiot,” Stephen murmured, kissing the top of his head.

The elevator came to a stop, the hallway surprisingly quiet as the doors opened.

“What kind of roses are you going to get?” Bruce asked Hope. “I mean it’s really none of my business, but I’m curious.”

“Probably pink?” Hope replied, the blush on her face matching the uncertainty in her voice. “She won’t admit it, but I know pink is Christine’s favorite color. Am I right about that Stephen?”

“You are, but also you know her birthday is in May right?” Stephen asked. “It’s only February.”

“No shit Sherlock. Sunday is the fourteenth, and I’m talking about Valentine’s Day flowers,” Hope said.

“Sunday is Valentine’s Day?” Anthony asked, still a bit out of it as Stephen opened the suite’s door.

“Did you forget? You, the most extra person in our entire friend group when it comes to any kind of affectionate gestures, forgot that Sunday is Valentine’s Day?” Bruce replied.

Anthony couldn’t measure how shocked his friend was, not when Bruce was as soft-spoken as always, but for some reason his question still kind of stung. “I didn’t forget, it’s been a long week and I just didn’t put two and two together.”

“What’s the problem?” Christine asked, standing up to hug Hope.

“Ant forgot that Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” Bruce said.

“I literally just told you that that’s not what happened,” Anthony muttered, increasingly annoyed with the conversation. “To be honest with you I don’t really like Valentine’s Day, so I haven’t been thinking about it.”

“You don’t— what?! You’re the perfect boyfriend, there’s no way you hate Valentine’s Day.” Now Anthony could tell that Bruce was shocked.

“He is the perfect boyfriend, and neither of us really care for Valentine’s Day,” Stephen said. He could tell that Anthony wanted to say something but was too taken aback. “There’s no relationship between who Anthony is as a partner and the way he feels about a date on a calendar.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you there, I guess I’m just surprised and I worded that incorrectly. I’m sorry Tony,” Bruce said.

Anthony shrugged and sat in the living room where Christine was moments before. “It’s fine. I don’t like the implication that I’m hearing, that just because I hate the holiday means I’m not going to do something for Stephen, but you may not have meant that.”

“I was curious if he’d be upset by that,” Bruce admitted.

“No need to talk about me like I’m not here, and no I wouldn’t be. I’m indifferent about the date and I wouldn’t expect performative affection knowing how Anthony feels about it. There’s no reason for anyone to make themself upset, stressed, or anxious because they do or don’t want to do something for their partner, and that goes beyond February 14th.” Stephen’s tone was firm, clearly indicating that he wanted the conversation to be over. He joined Anthony on the couch, laying down and resting his head on his lap.

“Don’t… no more details,” Anthony whispered.

Stephen nodded immediately. “I’m sorry.”

Anthony yawned again, taking one of Stephen’s hands as Christine and Hope walked back into the living room.

“I left my seat for less than 10 minutes,” Christine muttered.

“Ant and I were going to go to my room, so I guess it’s your lucky day,” Stephen teased.

“It’s just your audacity for me, we’ve been suitemates for two years and you can’t help yourself from stealing my spot whenever I leave the room?” Christine played along. “I’m going to tell Pepper and Wong when they get back.”

“We’re here, what happened?” Pepper was mentally preparing to roll her eyes.

“Stephen and Ant stole my spot in front of the TV again,” Christine pretended to whine.

“Oh, the horror! The humanity!” Wong quipped.

“And also apparently Ant doesn’t like Valentine’s Day, which makes no sense to me,” Bruce added.

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Just let it go Bruce!” 

An uncomfortable feeling like a humid room on a not-quite rainy day settled over the room. Bruce and Anthony both looked sheepish, hastily apologizing and letting the conversation blanket the room like a stratus cloud.

++++

They’d been quiet for the better part of an hour, focused intently and not at all on an episode of The Great British Baking Show. Anthony told Stephen in no uncertain terms that he was angry (“my blood is fucking boiling”) when they first closed the door to Stephen’s room, but had said little else since then. He’d retreated, both into the mess of thoughts taking over his mind and the comfort of Stephen’s hug. Stephen honestly didn’t expect Anthony to say anything again until he’d talked himself down or worked himself up.

It was three episodes later when Anthony spoke up.

“I shouldn’t have gotten that angry in front of the others,” he rasped. “They don’t know why I’m this upset at some simple questions, I just seem like a defensive asshole.”

“You’ve every right to be defensive. Even if I take everything I know about why you’re upset and put it aside for a minute, you reacted exactly like anyone who’s ever gotten annoyed at a friend for trying to find humor in your opinions and at your expense,” Stephen replied. “And because I know more of the context for how you’re feeling, I think Bruce just rubbed salt in a healing wound without realizing it.”

“I’ll apologize to him again later. I really feel bad for snapping, I’m no better than Howard and no better than my ex,” Anthony muttered.

“No Anthony that’s not true,” Stephen said firmly. “Neither of them, neither he nor Howard, would have the decency to feel remorseful or apologetic. Neither of them would even think about apologizing or checking up on everyone involved in the argument or situation. You're a good person and much better than you give yourself credit for, so don’t try comparing a golden apple to two that are rotten from the inside out. You’re human and definitely not the first person to be rightfully annoyed or angry with their friends.”

“I owe all of them an explanation,” Anthony mumbled. “About my ex.”

“If you want to tell the group, I support you. But you don’t owe anyone anything, and you don’t have to tell them now,” Stephen said. “You’ll only hurt yourself if you tell them before you’re ready, and you might not be yet.”

“I feel like I should, since it is almost Valentine’s Day and the timing is convenient. It’d be as easy as going to the living room and telling them ‘hey I’ve never really cared about Valentine’s Day but in recent years I’ve grown to hate it because it reminds me of an unhealthy relationship I was in,’ but I can’t say it,” Anthony replied. “I broke up with him three years ago, I should be able to talk about it.”

“If something was painful, then it was painful and you heal at your own pace. There’s no pressure to talk about it, not even to me if you don’t want to. I love you, and I’m here for you no matter what.”

“I love you too. I don’t think I deserve you.”

“Oh hush,” Stephen murmured. “Not only have you got that backwards, you’re just plain wrong.”

“I’m never wrong, thank you very much,” Anthony teased. He shifted enough to place featherlight kisses all over Stephen’s face, smiling when Stephen pulled him in for a long, sweet kiss on the lips. He rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder again when they broke apart, reaching up to play with his hair. “Do you want to do anything for Valentine’s Day though?”

“Besides catching up on sleep?” Stephen asked.

Anthony nodded.

Stephen’s response was immediate and came with the little scoff of indifference. “No. This week has been draining and I want to spend some time with you, that’s all.”

“That’s what I want too, but we can do whatever. I want to make you happy,” Anthony said.

“You do and you will just by being yourself,” Stephen whispered, kissing his hair. “Here’s my idea: we should definitely catch up on sleep, then we can spend the day lounging and eating candy, watching the worst rom coms we can find, and throwing popcorn at my laptop every time a character does or says something cliche. What do you think?”

“Everyday you do or say one thing at least that makes me fall more in love with you, and among other things today it was that idea you just came up with,” Anthony replied. “But if I see a single Lifetime channel movie about people falling in love with their dentist, having a meet-cute at a dentist’s office, or anything even remotely like that, I will not watch it. I don’t want to remember a plot of a movie like that while I’m waiting to get my wisdom teeth pulled next week!”

tags: @stark-strange-love2 @taruyison @kitkatfat15 @katninjagirl97 @spookywizardboy @ironstrange-chaos @chocopiggy @majesticnerdynerd @maya-custodios-dionach @thespacecryptid