#although i guess i will have to update the masterlist soon to include a new drabbles tag

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

My taglist besties do you want to be included on drabbles as well or just Big Boy fics

[noclue32]

New Auras (Poe Dameron x Jedi!Pilot! Reader) (She/her Pronouns) Slow burn

I just want to start off by saying a lot of the fic will contain my own personal head canons, although I try to stay as accurate as possible. Such as the planet Alzubith. Another thing that is not accurate is that I have aged Poe down to 22-25 although it still takes place shortly before The Force Awakens. I will also be using Y/N although I will try to not use it much. This is just part one! So stay tuned for later updates. Poe does not appear in this chapter, but he will next. This is a slow burn friends to lovers fic with a lot of Top Gun energy. When I start to publish the later chapters I will link them and make a masterlist. Thank you so much for reading! This is my first fic so reblogs are much appreciated :)

Master list can be found here

WC: 1,550

Chapter 1, Alzubith

Twenty-three years, twenty-three years ago. That’s how long it had been since General Leia Organa had felt the presence in the force. A new presence at the time, your presence. A few years back it started to dissipate, slowly but surely. Enough for the General to grow a concern for whoever possessed it. General Organa had become weary after every battle, knowing her time would soon end. A part of her wondered if the galaxy could ever be restored to balance, although her faith in the force assured her of peace whenever her anxieties rose. After the most recent battle, Leia was not satisfied with leaving the galaxy unsure of its tranquility. The former princess knew what she had to do, walking to her meditation room she thought of who could help complete her goal, when a certain commander came to mind. 

Alzubith, home of many terrains, outlaws, smugglers, pirates, bounty hunters and of course yourself. Other than the packs of criminals, there were not many people who lived on its grounds. Living there for quite a long time, you knew the ins and outs of the towns nearby, especially since you rarely left the atmosphere. You had left a few times on vacation, but mostly for supplies for work. It consumed most hours of your life, shipping in parts, fixing ships for the strangest people in the galaxy, fixing up Old Republic, Rebellion and Empire ships and of course learning to fly them. Even though the ladder was not a  part of the job. 

Both government bodies had dumped ships and bodies onto the land, leaving both for scavengers or whoever could take them fast enough. Leaving your mechanic shop in possession of a few of said planes. Including your favorite, a T-65 X-Wing starfighter. The same make and model used by Luke Skywalker, not including the scratches and missing parts yours had. Over the years, refurbishing it to its original state was the goal of your entire mechanic. It looked rough on the outside, but as a collective you were able to restore it to its flying ability. 

You couldn’t wait to fly it on your special day, your twenty third birthday. There was nothing particularly special to this specific anniversary, only that it was one of the only days out of the year you didn’t feel guilty giving into your own selfish desires. The day was bright and beautiful, the sun beating down on all who passed through, opposing the heavy rains common for that season. 

“Happy birthday Y/N!” Arynel beamed watching you cross to the entrance of the shop. “Any plans yet? Besides dealing with this Wookie’s broken speeder,” He announced looking inside the shop and making a teeth grit jokingly. 

Your eyes dart over to the aforementioned Wookie yelling at one of your colleagues. Sighing, you looked back to your friend and simply responded with, “I guess I have three items on the agenda now.”

“Oh yeah? What are the other two supposed to be?” Besides going out to cantinas on your birthdays, nobody on the planet ever had time to do much else.

“After the speeder, I’m gonna treat myself to a pastry and then hop onto the X-Wing before we all go out,” Smiling, you walked over to the Wookie and began helping him with his issue. That being it was almost completely destroyed. You predicted it would take hours out of your day, and you were right. 

When you were finished, you headed straight to devour your birthday pastry, starved and proud of the day's work. Nothing could beat that feeling of euphoria, except of course that of flying. You had about an hour and a half left until everyone ended their day and headed to the cantina. Just enough to get up in the air and enjoy yourself. The usual routine ensued, pushing your head into a musty unmarked helmet, pulling yourself up into the cockpit and slamming the door, lastly checking the wings and landing gear. Everything was fine, picture perfect clear for takeoff. Flipping the switches, reading the stick and yoke, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. When you found yourself in the air, the euphoria came rushing back to you. You were a great pilot of course, it made sense considering you had been in a cockpit since your infantry. The tricks, speed and turns you pulled in this bantha crap ship were no different than usual. It was when you had calmed completely when you felt it, something watching you. 

Quickly, you peered at the radar which was blank. No comms message about anyone else in the atmosphere. Despite this, you picked it up, “Hello this is Y/N Y/L/N from Bovdip’s shop. Are you reading anything near me on your radar? I’m flying the T-65 X-Wing.” Silence, nothing but it. You slowly reached for the comm mike again, “.....Is anyone there…?”

Prior to a response, your world turns black. There is nothing but silence and a thin layer of water beneath you. “Dank farrik…! Where’s the X-Wing? Where did everything go!?” Panicking, you looked for anything, anyone who could give you a response. It came to you then, a voice. Elderly and kind, welcoming and strong. 

“Y/N…. You have been avoiding your power for quite too long. We need you, you need us. I know what you can do, I have known ever since your birth. If you help us you can save the galaxy." 

Scanning the area quickly, you found nothing but darkness. "I'm not who you think I am, I've given up my abilities. I will not use them, we both know the harm they can cause." You stated blankly, trying to keep your composure. Although the voice could hear your own trembling and fear. "Who are you?" A seemingly easy question was not answered. Instead you were retorted. 

The voice spoke once more, "You have not given up your abilities. Maybe you think you have, but they surround you everyday. Embrace it. Use them on your own terms." This response stunned you as you still turned looking for the representative of it. Abruptly, you felt it, a hand on your shoulder. The hand ceased its contact when your world went back to the way it was before. 

“Y/N? Y/N? Do you read me?” A voice finally emerged from the comms, but you were astonished trying to put together any of what had just happened. The voice questioned again, “Y/N! You’re going dangerously fast, that relic isn’t going to make it!” Your direction focused back onto the comm, it was one of your fellow technicians. “Are you there!?” 

“Yes, yes I am!” Catching your breath you pulled the X-Wing’s yoke trying to slow it, wondering how you were even still in the air considering your unconsciousness from reality. You directed it back as far as you could, trying to crash land as smoothly as possible. Fortunately, you made it with a few bumps, leaving a new scratch on the underbelly of the fighter. Hopping out of the starfighter you pushed off your helmet and let the lines of sweat run down your face. Nothing could possibly awake you from the shock you had just experienced. 

Walking back to Bovdip’s shop, you were stopped by one of the other technicians, “We’re gonna be late to Enzar’s cantina if you don’t hurry up.” He noticed your eyes, distant and otherworldly as you tried to think of what to respond with. 

Sighing, your brain finally pieced together an excuse to miss out on your birthday celebration, “I think I’m gonna sit this one out. I’ve been very burnt out lately, so I’m going to sleep early today.” Before he could respond, you sat down on your speeder and drove as fast as you could. The feeling of air whipping around you as you drove home was the only thing keeping you in this reality as you ventured to your small and crowded house. The houses on your block were not made of strong material, and were all lined up against each other. They each housed one to two people, workers quarters. Flinging the door open you locked it and rested your back against it, taking the deep breaths you needed. After a second or two of your rest, your eyes peered towards a fake panel in your wall. Pulling it away, you pulled out the case you had hidden years ago. The case containing the saber given to you as a child, which you were now big enough to wield properly. Activating it, the green light bounced off the walls of your room, reminding you that it was in fact not some sort of fake toy gifted to you, but a weapon. Shii-cho was the only form you mastered, and you wondered if you even remembered it. If someone was able to connect with you through the force they would most likely know where you are. The way of the Jedi was something you had given up long ago, it was the reason you could never fully trust anyone, the reason you feared someone would come and kill you, or force you to join their cause. The first order being your main fear. 

You would soon find out who called out for you. 

--------

Thank you so much for the read !! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of New Auras.

[serendipityjxmn]

Chapter 11

TW: None

Words Count: 2.6k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 12

You think one day of rest was enough since you can walk perfectly well now without wincing. So you wake earlier than Jimin the next day, marvelling at his features for a few moments but also fighting the urge to punch him out of giving you sleeping pills so you could oversleep and not come to work.

But now that you’ve reached the office, you feel nervous. You don’t know how to face Minhyuk. You don’t know if you could even face him.

Luckily, you don’t see him at all throughout the morning. During lunch however, when you return to the office, you see him first before he does yet he just brushes right pass you. You feel relieved yet you can’t shake off the strange feeling.

And your hunch turns out to be right when Minhyuk starts being mean from the next encounter and forward. He gets angry at you for the smallest of reasons. He doesn’t quite look at you when he gives order and when you ask him to clarify things, sometimes he would glare at you. It also doesn’t help that as you get more nervous you tend to make more mistakes.

Work feels even more exhausting when you’re mentally stressed at workplace. You come home with a headache that one night.

As soon as you prepared Jimin’s dinner, you hunt for some medicines and brings it with you as you head towards the room at the end of the hallway which you’ve somehow turned into your small office area (and your husband doesn’t seem to mind so-). You sit yourself on the sofa and shifts through the documents. The expenses report from several departments submitted during today’s meeting aren’t due for review until Friday yet Minhyuk says he wants to see it first thing next morning. You know he’s just doing it to get back at you and he’d probably ended up stacking the files on his table untouched just like the last task which means you’re doing this for naught anyway but you don’t want to give him any chance of finding your fault so here you are.

Your head feels like spinning so you quickly gulp down the medicine and force yourself to start on your work. Half an hour into it though, you don’t realize when you had fallen asleep.

You wake up next day in your own bed, perfectly tucked in while Jimin sleeps soundly next to you. You sit up almost immediately.

You look at the sleeping figure next to you, his snores are very light, you note.

Unknowingly, you inch closer to his side. You’ve always loved his smell. He just smells like... him.

You’re pretty sure he tucked you in last night. Why does he pretend to be so harsh all the time if he actually cares for you?

Maybe it isn’t impossible to build a civil relationship with him. With your husband.

You stare at his features. You can’t deny it. Jimin’s really good looking. And this good looking man is your husband. Sometimes you still have trouble believing.

Your eyes fall to his lips. His plump pink lips looks very tempting. You briefly wonder if-

Don’t.

Don’t fall for him.

And at that exact moment, Jimin’s eyes shot open while simultaneously his hand grips your right hand that hovers over his face seconds ago tightly. You freeze completely, not moving a muscle because you know he’s doing it out of reflex and you don’t want to dwell on how he’s trained for that.

His stare at you is murderous and your hand move to retreat but he kept his grip vice like on your wrist.

And you could feel the intensity slowly rising between the both of you.

You could’ve sworn his face inches closer to you and you panic instantly so you back away and sit up. Without wasting another breath, you get up and disappear into the shower.

You panic at your desk. In light of this morning’s incident, finding yourself in your bed instead of the sofa as well the tense moments with Jimin, you weren’t in the right state of mind so you completely forgot about the report Minhyuk asks you to handle yesterday.

You gather your courage to tell Irene first.

“Ah the sales reports?” She says and you nod. “Mr. Park already handed it to me first thing this morning when he arrived. I went to see Mina just now and handed the reports to Mr. Kim as well.”

O...kay. You definitely don’t expect that but you can’t help but sigh in relief. Did Jimin take it last night when he finds you in the small library room?

“Wait. If you brought the files home last night, how does Mr. Park have it?” Irene narrows her eyes at you.

Shoot. “Um- I forgot I didn’t- I mean, I just realized I didn’t bring it home at all. My head was really spinning last night and I thought I brought it home, turns out I didn’t.” You fake a smile. “Perhaps Mr. Park saw it on my table.”

Irene huffed at your answer, perhaps contemplating whether to believe you or not. She doesn’t say anything after that.

You’re at Mina’s table, discussing with her about updates on meetings with R&D team as requested by your husband when Kim Minhyuk appears from his office room, storming at you with a furious look.

“Miss Y/N, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” He shouts at you, making everyone at the office look up and you feel small immediately. “Are you even doing your job?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Kim-“

“This!” He pushes a document towards you and you look down to see the sales report yesterday.

“Is there something wrong-“

“You fucking tell me.” He snarls. “Tell me, how on earth did you organize this? I don’t understand a single thing. Did you even do it?”

You remain silent. Because he’s right. You didn’t do it. But how can you say that? What would you say to him? That your husband, the president, the CEO arranged the report?

“I honestly have no idea if you’re coming for work or you’re just fucking around.” He hisses.

You literally hear the gasps from your office mate.

You draw a breath, trying to calm yourself to face Minhyuk. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim if you’re not satisfied but-“

“Mr. Park.” Someone says. Your stomach lurch instantly.

Both you and Minhyuk look up. Your lung drops when you sight your husband standing few metres away, his hands in his pocket.

“Jimin.” Minhyuk addresses your husband.

Jimin’s eyes are on you and you look down immediately. Anxiety starts filling you up. Is he going to shout at you too?

He crosses the distance and stops short before you and Minhyuk.

“Minhyuk.” Jimin nods at him. “Do you mind if I borrow.. my wife for a moment?”

Everyone in the room gasps including you.

You stare up at him, eyes wide in shock. He wasn’t looking at you, he was smiling at Minhyuk although you know it’s entirely a facade.

You eyes flicker to Minhyuk. His expression is priceless. You’ve never seen him in a state more shock, what with all his constant smirk or flirty expression.

“Y-your wife?” He stutters.

Jimin steps closer to you then place his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him that earns another gasp around the room. “My wife,” he reconfirms. Then towards you, he smiles briefly before he pulls you with him and leaves you at your desk before you could say anything as he walks back towards his office.

You’ve no idea what to say.

Everyone knows you’re his wife now.

And you’ve never felt so guilty towards Jimin.

Irene had never been this loud before, you think.

“Like what on earth- I really wouldn’t know! Like you know, with the way he’s treating you or literally everyone with his cold personality. Oh well, I guess that explains his stares at you.”

You stare at her. “He.. stares.. at me?”

“He does! Quite a lot actually. Caught him on a few occasions. You probably won’t notice them but I have eyes of a hawk.” She winks at you.

“You’re sure he’s not doing it to everyone?”

“Hmm he kind of does actually.. But with you- I don’t know. The look is softer, I think.” Irene says fondly.

You shake your head. “You’re exaggerating.”

“No, I’m not.” She sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or anyone for that matter.”

You give her a small smile. “We wanted to keep it private. Don’t really wanna mix work.”

She nods at this. Then suddenly, her eyes widen at you then clasps your hand tightly. “Oh God! You really really have to forgive me.”

You frown. “You did something wrong?”

“Remember when you asked me about Clara Kim? Oh God- and I freaking told you she’s his girlfriend oh Lord- I’ve commited a huge sin, I know- and I’m so so sorry-“

You burst out laughing. She looks puzzled at first but then joins you. Then she turns serious. “But were you for real? You really don’t know who Clara Kim is?”

You bit your lips, unsure how to answer her. Then you slowly nod. “I don’t know.”

She looks at you in sympathy then leans down to whisper, “You think he’s cheating?”

You know he does. “No, I don’t think so. If he is, why would he let his wife be his secretary where she practically knows all his schedule?”

“Hmph. Makes sense, I guess.” She straightens herself then. “Okay. I’m going out to lunch. You coming?”

At that same moment, Jimin comes out. His eyes find you immediately. “Had your lunch?”

“I’m about to head out with Irene.”

“No- no Mr. Park. I forgot I actually had plans with my boyfriend. She’s all yours.” Irene says, already picking up her stuffs and standing.

You know she just made that up so you try as hard to give her the eye that you don’t wanna go for lunch with your husband now but she dashes off super quickly, leaving you with your husband.

“Come on.” He says.

You stand rooted to your spot, not budging. Jimin turns back to look at you. “I’m- I’m gonna have lunch with Mina.”

He glares at you and you almost want to cower but still holds your decision.

“Fine then.” He grunts then walks away. You heave a sigh of relief.

You don’t actually plan to have lunch with Mina. In fact, you don’t feel like going out at all. Instead, you sink back onto your chair. Your iPad in front of you flashes and you grab it instantly.

You feel your blood runs cold immediately upon seeing it.

You’re all over the news.

[REVEALED] Seoul’s most successful young CEO, Park Jimin’s wife identity revealed.

Mid this year, a large population of young women in South Korea had their hearts broken when arguably, Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, a young and good looking, successful CEO of the largest tech company, Park Jimin announced that he would be tying the knot with non-public figure woman, who’s identity remains closely kept secret.

But we finally know now who’s the girl that has stolen the heart of the heir to Parks Corporations. The woman is revealed to be __, 23 years old, currently working as secretary at Park Jimin’s own company, Bangtan Inc. It seems like the President wants to keep the wife close- much to the single ladies who’s working in the company’s heartbreak. The background of Park Jimin’s wife is yet to be known but whoever she may be, she must be reading a helluva of a prenup. Bagging South Korea’s allegedly most eligible bachelor, perhaps we can arrange a session to ask for a tip or two?

You wish the ground could swallow you whole.

Isn’t it illegal to be exposing informations of non public figure like this? Though you suppose the writer is trash anyway when he exposed your identity while clearly stating you’re a non public figure in the same line.

Wasn’t your marriage to Jimin suposed to be a secret and your identity kept hidden?

Yeah but then you yourself went to work at his company, gets harrassed that drive to the point of Jimin having to expose your relationship.

God. Both your index finger pressed each side of your temple tightly.

You’re contemplating whether you’re supposed to go back with Jimin so you decided to just go with him if he comes out of the office around the same time you’re off work but if he doesn’t then you’ll head home first and you desperately pray for the latter.

However, all hopes went down the drain when Jimin appears out of his room and only glares at you for a few seconds before you scramble to your feet and hastily packs your stuff.

And that’s how you find yourself walking timidly, very self conscious behind him as everyone stares at the two of you and you think it couldn’t get anymore embarassing at this.

Jimin is silent during the car ride. He busied himself with his iPad, leaving you fidgeting in the heavy silence. You decided to just man up and address the elephant in the room.

“J-Jimin..” you call softly. “I’m sorry it came down to this.. and now everyone knows you’re- I’m- um.. we’re-“

“Married.” He cuts you off.

You look up at him. He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still on his tab.

“We’re married.” He repeats. “Is that so hard to say?” He asks, finally looking at you.

“No- I me-“

“Nevermind.” He turns his gaze back to his tab and the conversation is over.

You don’t mean it that way but you just don’t want people looking down at him for marrying you, someone of no status and not even a decent upbringing background.

You play with the spoon on your hand, guilt still swallowing you whole. Drawing a breath, you look up at Jimin who’s drinking his glass of water. You’re both on the dining table, only sounds of cutleries can be heard.

“Jimin, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for all this to get exposed. I’m sorry.” You say softly.

His expression turns cold. “Are you?” He asks, looking straight at you with piercing eyes, making you recoil.

“What do you mean? I didn’t want this to happen either-“

“Yeah none of this would’ve happened if you just sit your ass at home, playing house or the perfect fucking wife.” He sneers. “Instead, you just have to work in my own fucking company, get yourself harrassed and left me with no choice.”

You want to answer him, that he’s being unfair because you didn’t ask to be harrassed but Jimin was raging so you stay muted.

“It’s dangerous, do you know that? Now everyone knows who my wife is and it’s fucking dangerous-“

“Why?” You cut him. “Tell me why it’s dangerous- Jimin who are you-“

He raises from his seat and leans down to you, face merely inches away and you swallow. “I’m a dangerous person darling.. I can snap your neck in two and you won’t see it coming.” He says as his fingers touch your neck, in an act that seems as if it’s caressing it but you know better. “And now that everyone knows who you are.. that means they can come and snap your neck too baby. But of course, you wouldn’t see it coming. And that’s what happens when you don’t listen to me. Not when I tell you to quit your fucking job, not ever.”

He raises again, standing upright before turning on his wheels and leaves you. You struggle to calm your erratic breath and nerves. And finally, you let the tears flow.

That night too, you wrote the resignation letter.

Link to Chapter 12

Posted on 210423 9:00PM

[pitubea1910]

10th Anniversary

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Words: 4k

Warnings: -

Tags: -

Request: -

Notes: I was supposed to post this for their 10th Anniversary but I totally forgot about it and just found it on my drafts! So I hope you like it :)

MASTERLIST

The moment you woke up you knew what day it was without even looking at the calendar.

July 23rd 2020.

10 years. It had been a whole decade since all the craziness started. Looking back now, you would have never imagined everything you all had gone through in that time, how much you had grown up -together and separated-, how much your lives had changed.

You were a 15 years-old-girl when you met them thanks to your aunt Lou. When you first laid eyes on them, you just saw five loud and unstoppable guys. You would have never imagined that you would find four brothers and something else in them.

However, there you were, 10 years later, checking your Twitter timeline with a stupid grin on your face. It looked like 2012 all over again and you loved it. You missed those times like crazy. Of course, you knew the hiatus was coming the moment Zayn left the band -and they had earned every single day of it-, but that didn’t change how much you missed them all.

Even though you had kept in touch with the five of them it wasn’t the same. They were all busy with their own solo projects and they barely had the time to meet up. You couldn’t blame them, but you still missed them. Especially the green-eyed one.

Harry and you immediately clicked when you met. It turned out you had a lot in common and similar personalities. You had a tight relation with the whole group, but what you and Harry had was special. Probably it helped that you were the same age. But the truth was that it didn’t matter the reason, you were always together.

Everyone who saw you together and knew how your relationship was just kept on saying that you two would end up together. It turned out they weren��t completely wrong, although it never worked out the way you would have wanted. You were a couple for less than a year. It was the best year of your life and the worst break-up you ever had.

You loved him and he loved you, there was no doubt of that, but it was too complicated to keep it going. As much as you loved touring the world with them, spending every single day with Harry, you also needed a life of your own, you wanted to go to college and doing it from afar didn’t work for you. It was the hardest decision you ever made, but everyone understood and supported you. Harry the most.

It broke his heart as well, but he knew he couldn’t ask you to keep with his lifestyle. He had to let you go. You gave distance a chance, but with their schedules and the time zones it soon became impossible. You remembered the last FaceTime you had, how heartbroken you both were. But it was for the best.

You never lost contact though. Every single time he would come to London he called you to spend a day together. Those days ended up being the best days of the year and they usually ended with you two going back to his place and spending the night together. And every morning your heart broke knowing you had to say goodbye again. But you kept on coming back to him every time his name showed up on your screen.

Usually he was the one who reached out, which made sense since he was the one who was travelling all the time. That morning, that July 23rd, was different. You texted first for the first time in a long time.

Happy 10 years, Styles. Wish we could celebrate together. Love you.

You gulped before sending the text. He was probably in the States and he wouldn’t see it for another few hours, so after sending some other texts to Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn, you got out of bed and headed to the shower. Usually, you would have to hurry to get to your internship, but with the pandemic you still didn’t have to go, so you had another day completely off.

However, before you got into the shower, you heard your ringtone. You frowned confused. It was way too early for your mum to be calling, so you had no clue who could it be. Maybe it was your boss, giving you an update on the status of your internship. With a sigh, you turned on the water and went back to the room, hoping it would be a quick call so you could go back to your shower.

You took the phone without even looking at the phone and answered it.

“Hello?” You said as you started walking back to the bathroom.

“Happy ten years to you too, love”, a deep known voice said on the other side, making you stop on your tracks as your heart started racing.

Quickly, you checked the caller and saw Harry’s name. He was probably the last person you expected to talk to that day.

“Thanks”, you finally managed to say when you put your phone against your ear.

“I’m guessing you didn’t expect my call?” He said. Judging by his tone, you knew he was smirking, which made you smile.

“You guessed correctly”, you admitted. “How are you awake?”

“I was out for an early run”, he said, making you frown.

“Wait, are you in England?”

“In London to be more accurate”, he said.

“R-really?” You stuttered.

“So maybe we can also make the celebration happen”, he said.

“Really?” You repeated. “I mean, yes! That would be great!”

You smacked yourself on the forehead for being such a nerd. He chuckled quietly before saying he had to make some calls during the morning, but he could pick you up at noon to have some lunch. You said yes immediately. Most of the restaurants were still closed, but he was Harry Styles. He always had a trick up his sleeve, and you couldn’t see what he would pull off that day.

Since you woke up way too early, the morning went off slowly. Or maybe it was just you being impatient. However, you finally got a text from Harry saying he was parked outside of your building. You grabbed your purse with the basic stuff -wallet, keys and phone- and a mask. Once you were sure you had locked the door properly, you went to the elevator.

Usually, he would wait for you in his car in case some recognised him. So it shocked you to see him casually leaning against the vehicle when you walked out of the building. When he heard you, he looked up from his phone. You couldn’t see his whole face due to the mask he was wearing, but his eyes told you he was smiling.

Despite all the precautions and distancing you were supposed to take, you knew it wouldn’t work with him. He was like a magnet and all you wanted to do was hug him and have him hugging you.

“Can I hug you?” He asked.

The fact that he was thinking the same as you made you laugh. All you did was hugging him tightly. He could always hug you, no matter what. He was the exception to every rule.

“I missed you”, you said with your eyes closed, which made him squeeze you a bit tighter.

“Me too”, he whispered.

You spent a couple of minutes just holding each other before he pulled away and opened the passenger door for you. You thanked him with a smile and got into the car and buckled up while he walked around the vehicle to get in before taking off the mask. You did the same and looked at him, the whole him this time.

“I love your hair short”, you said.

Harry looked at you with a dimpled smile and ran a hand through his hair -an old habit he didn’t seem to be able to shake but you loved- before turning on the engine.

“How long has it been?” He asked once he started driving.

“Christmas, I think”, you said after thinking about it for a moment. “Hans’ Christmas party before you went back to the States.”

“Right”, he said and looked at you, making you blush and smile at the memories of that night. “How have you been?”

“Locked”, you chuckled making him chuckle as well. “But good, I finished my thesis, watched a lot of movies and TV shows and baked. A lot.”

“You’ve always been good at baking”, he said.

“And you’ve always been good at eating”, you teased, making him laugh. “What about you?”

“I got stuck in the States until a few days ago”, he shrugged. “Didn’t do much either.”

“Sorry about your tour, by the way”, you said when you remembered. “I was excited.”

“Me too”, he sighed. “But some stuff are more important.”

You smiled a little and nodded to yourself. This pandemic had been, and was been, a wreck all around the world. As usual, you reached out to turn on the radio, which made Harry smile to himself. Ever since the first time you had got into his car, all those years ago, you would always start the music, no matter what. At first, he was surprised you took such confidences in someone else’s car, but he soon loved that detail about you.

“How is it going with your internship?” He asked when the song that was playing on the radio ended.

“I’m on furlough”, you shrugged and sighed. “I got an email last week saying some people would start coming back to work soon. But I don’t think that includes interns.”

“I wouldn’t be in a hurry if I were you”, he commented as he checked the mirrors. “You don’t have a car to go to the office and I wouldn’t be too excited about getting into the tube.”

“I could always get a bike”, as soon you said that you both started laughing. You were the less sportive person you had even known. “Yeah, that was a good one.”

“Indeed”, he chuckled.

“I’m not in a hurry to go back”, you shrugged. “But it’s boring.”

“I know”, he sighed and looked at you for a moment. “But at least now we have time to hang out.”

“Like old times”, you smiled. Harry smiled softly and nodded.

“Like old times.”

“Where are we going by the way? Most restaurants are still closed”, you said.

You had been so focused on talking to Harry and watching him drive that you hadn’t been paying attention to the streets, so you had no idea where you were going.

“My place”, he said, surprising you. “My new place, actually.”

“You have a new place?” You asked even more surprised.

“Yeah. Too many people knew about the house in Hampstead. It was annoying”, he sighed. “Hopefully, no one will find out about this one.”

“But you loved Hampstead!”, you pouted. You loved that house too, to be honest.

“I didn’t sell it”, he shrugged with a smile. “I just don’t use it as official residency.”

“Good”, you smiled now. “So… your place.”

“You’re okay with that?” He asked a bit concerned.

“Oh yes! I just assumed we would to some restaurant”, you shrugged.

“I thought about it”, he nodded. “But even if they’re open, I feel bad for the people who have to work in them, so I guess it makes their lives less anxious with less customers.”

“Always so thoughtful”, you commented.

“Can’t help myself”, he said, his cheeks blushing a little.

You smiled sweetly and looked out of the window, now curious to see where he had moved to. Judging by the zone, you were in the south of London, although you couldn’t figure out exactly where.

Finally, he drove into a subterranean parking in a big brick building. The parking didn’t have many cars, which led you to believe that he didn’t have many neighbours. Harry parked at the very end of the place and, once he turned off the engine, you unbuckled yourself and got out of the car.

“Quite big for a few cars”, you commented looking around.

“I know”, he laughed after locking his car. “It’s a new building. Probably is four years old, so not many people live here yet. And those who do, have more than one car so…”

“You have more than one spot?” You asked.

“Those three are also mine”, he said pointing.

You smiled when you saw the familiar black Range Rover in which you had been so many times over the years. The other two spots were empty, but you knew he had the cars to fill them.

Without saying anything, he started walking to an elevator you hadn’t seen at first sight. You followed him while you checked your phone before throwing it into your bag for the rest of the day. When you got into the elevator, you looked around at how new it looked.

“How long have you been living here?” You asked, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

“A couple of years”, he shrugged and you nodded. “I was the second one to move in.”

“Really?” He nodded. “Nice”, you chuckled.

It didn’t surprise you when the elevator opened at the last floor. He had always liked high places and he had always said that he would love to live in a penthouse someday. It looked like he had fulfilled another one of his fantasies. As you stepped out, you saw that there were only two doors. Private.

“I’m the only one in this floor”, he commented. “These two places are the most expensive so”, he shrugged.

“More silence for you. Imagine a family with three children living across the hall”, you said.

“You would go crazy”, he laughed.

“Definitely”, you smiled a little.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like kids. You did. But when there were many of them, you got a bit nervous, especially if they were loud.

Harry took out a keychain and put it in front of where a locker should have been. It beeped and he pushed the door open. He looked back with a cocky grin.

“Snob”, you mumbled when he let you walk in first.

“Hey!” He laughed.

He took your bag and hung it next to the door while you looked around in awe. It was an open-space living room and kitchen, surrounded by huge windows from where you could see Vauxhall Bridge and the other side of the Thames. It was all decorated in cold colours, but it wasn’t a cold environment. He had managed to give his personal and warm touch.

“What do you think?” He asked standing behind you, a bit more closer than what you expected.

“Much better than Hampstead”, you admitted.

“You think so?”

“There’s no way teenage girls will camp just outside your door”, you shrugged.

“Good point”, he laughed. “Come, I’ll show you the balcony.”

“I’m not a big fan of heights”, you reminded him while he was dragging you by your hand.

“I won’t let you go”, he said.

Saying no to him was an impossible task. There was nothing you could deny to him, not when he gave you that dimpled smile that you loved so much.

To be honest, the views were breath-taking, it couldn’t be denied, but you didn’t go too close to the edge just in case and Harry didn’t push you. All he did was hold your hand tightly.

“I have to confess something”, he said after a while.

“What is it?” You asked quietly.

“I haven’t cooked anything. I was praying you were craving pizza”, he said, making you laugh out loud.

“I’m always craving pizza, you idiot”, you said giving him hand a gentle squeeze before going back inside.

He followed you inside but left the door open. While he ordered the pizza, you walked around the living room, checking out the photos he had framed and also the vinyl collection he had. You smiled a little when you saw that he had all One Direction CDs there as well, as vinyl.

When you started looking at the photos, the first one that caught your eye was one of the two of you, so many years ago, in the tour bus. You took it from the chest it was on. You smiled warmly as you remembered all those long hours stuck into the bus. Somehow, they all managed to make it fun.

In the photo, you and Harry were laying down on one of the sofas, sleeping while facing each other. You were cuddled up against him while he had one hand on your waist, hugging you, and the other one stretched over your head. You remembered having that photo as your lockscreen for so long.

“I think that’s my favourite.”

You hadn’t expected Harry to be just behind you. You hadn’t even heard him coming close to you, so you gasped and almost dropped the photo, but he was quick enough to catch it.

“So I would appreciate if you didn’t break it”, he chuckled.

“Sorry, you scared me”, you said.

“Sorry”, he said too and looked down at the photo before putting it back on top of the chest. “We really had fun that tour, didn’t we?”

“Wasn’t it the one when we started dating?” You asked. He nodded and turned around to walk to couch. “It really was fun.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” He asked all of sudden.

You chuckled and looked down before shaking your head. It was a question that always came up between you two. If the answer was positive it changed the whole mood of the time you spent together. It wasn’t like you didn’t want each other to date other people, but it still hurt to see it.

“Are you?” You asked.

“No”, he said and looked at you before smiling a little.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that”, he said and looked down at his hands. He started playing with his rings, which he used to do whenever he got nervous.

“About what?”

“Us.”

“Oh…”, you gulped and looked down as well.

You always feared when he brough that up. Usually it was because he was seeing someone, so you guessed this time wouldn’t be different, even though he had just said he wasn’t seeing anyone. You bite your lip and nodded.

“Okay”, you whispered.

“I was going to wait until after we ate but since it came up”, he shrugged.

“You brought it up”, you quickly said.

“Good point”, he chuckled.

“Anyway”, you looked at him. “What is it? What’s her name?”

“Her name?” He asked confused. “I’m… I’m not seeing anyone. I told you.”

“Really?” You frowned, even more confused than him. “I just- Every time you want to talk about us, it is because you’re seeing someone.”

“Oh… I hadn’t thought about it, to be honest”, he said thinking about it before laughing a little. “It’s not the case now”, he shrugged.

“What is it?” You asked now curious but also fearful. What if he said he didn’t have feelings for you anymore?

“You know how we have always said that we can’t be together because of how messy my life is, right?” He asked and you nodded, having no clue where he was going with this. “Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and you were right about it back then. When I was in the band. Now it’s different.”

“How? You still have the same job”, you shrugged. “And I don’t want you to have a different one”, you quickly added.

“Yes, but I’m not touring all year long”, he explained. “Now I can take my time. It’s been two years since I dropped my first solo album and only last year, I dropped Fine Line. Yes, when I’m on tour I spend a lot of time on it, but I also have a lot of time between one and the next. Especially now that it’s been postponed.”

“Harry”, you interrupted him. “Go to the point”, you chuckled.

“Yes, sorry”, he smiled a little. “I want to give it, us, another chance.”

Your mind went completely blank as he said the words. You had no idea how many times you had dreamed about this and, now that it was right in front of you, you didn’t know what to say. Suddenly, you felt scared, confused, lost. You loved him? Of course you did. Was this a good idea? You got no idea. You only knew that the first time almost broke you and you didn’t know if you were ready to go through that again.

Although it could work out this time, a tiny voice inside your head said.

What if it didn’t? What if you just didn’t work as a couple?

Luckily for you, just then the bell rang.

“Pizza!” You exclaimed and got up, relieved to have some time off from that conversation.

Harry looked at you as you ran to the door, obviously running away from him at the moment. He had no idea what to think of that. Did that mean you didn’t feel the same way anymore? You only saw him as a friend? Or maybe it was just that you didn’t see it coming and felt a bit overwhelmed? He wanted to believe it was the latest, but his mind kept on going to the worst-case scenario.

Anyway, the food was there and he figured that giving you time to take his words in wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Harry had already paid for the pizzas when he ordered them, so all you had to do was take them. Once you closed the door by pushing it with your foot, you went to the isle that separated the kitchen from the living room and put them on top of it.

“This smell amazing”, you said while Harry was walking around the kitchen gathering the dishes, glasses and napkins.

“I’m drooling just by the smell”, he agreed. “Do you want to eat here, in the living room or out there?”

“It’s a bit chilly out there”, you said. “Maybe the living room and we can watch something on Netflix?”

“Sounds good”, he nodded.

Silently, you two moved everything to the living room and set the table up. When it was all ready, Harry turned on the TV and logged into his Netflix account before he started looking for something to watch while you poured water into the glasses.

“What about Harry Potter and The Priosioner of Azkaban?” He suggested.

“You know me”, you smiled widely.

It was your favourite Harry Potter movie, so there was no way you would say no to it. Harry smiled warmly and nodded to himself.

“I do”, he sighed before pressing play on the remote.

***

“I’m surprised you watched the whole movie”, you said two hours later when the movie was over.

“Why?” Harry asked.

He stood up and started taking everything back to the kitchen.

“Well”, you got up too and took the glasses. “You always fall asleep during the movies I choose.”

“Technically, I chose this one, so it would’ve been rude to fall asleep”, he said while you handed him the glasses so he would put them into the dishwasher.

“It’s rude anyway but whatever helps you sleep at night”, you said with a smile.

“Are you saying I’m rude?” He asked with his eyes narrowed after he closed the dishwasher.

“Contrary to popular belief, Mr. Styles… I know the whole truth about you”, you said, crossing your arms.

“And what is that?” He asked, mirroring your position.

“That you can be rude sometimes”, you shrugged.

“Falling asleep during a movie is not rude. It is… tiredness”, he said, making you laugh.

“And you always have a reply for everything”, you said.

“I like to be prepared”, he shrugged.

“Like I said…”, you laughed and leaned against the counter.

Harry laughed out loud and shook his head before excusing himself to go to the bathroom. You stayed there in the kitchen, thinking again about what Harry had said just before the pizza arrived. You had barely paid attention to the movie thanks to that.

You had no idea where that proposition came from. It had been years since you two had had any conversation about your relationship and you had no idea what you wanted. Yes, you loved him. Yes, you wanted to be with him. But you feared that this was just about him feeling nostalgic. You remembered vividly the great couple you two were, but you didn’t know if you could go through that kind of heartbreak again.

“You know what I’ve been trying to get better at during lockdown?”

You jumped a little since you hadn’t heard him coming back from the bathroom.

“Surprise me”, you said, still lost in thought.

“Football”, he said. You looked at him with an eyebrow raised, trying not to laugh.

“Really?” You asked. “How did that turn out exactly?”

“Awful”, he admitted, making you laugh.

“I figured”, you nodded and sighed, looking down at your hands.

You felt him coming closer until he was standing right in front of you. Yet, you didn’t dare to look up.

“You okay?” He finally asked.

“Where did that come from?” You blurted out. When he didn’t answer, you looked up. He was frowning and the look in his eyes told you that he was measuring his words. “About us.”

“From… what I feel for you”, he said like it was obvious. “What I’ve always felt for you.”

“Right”, you sighed.

“Don’t you feel the same anymore?” He asked worried.

“I don’t think there’s a world, a universe, where I don’t feel that way about you”, you sighed.

“What’s the problem, then?”

“Why now? How do I know that this, you wanting more again, is not something that will just go away?” You asked.

“I’ve always wanted more from us, (Y/N). The only reason we broke up was because we couldn’t make it work with our lives. We can now”, he said. Hesitantly, he took a step towards you and held your hands. “I’ve loved you since we were 18. I can promise you it isn’t going anywhere. Ever. And neither am I.”

“It…”, you sighed. “It just hurt so much when we broke up, Harry. I don’t think I can go through that again.”

“You won’t.”

“You can’t promise that”, you chuckled.

“I could”, he shrugged. “Because that’s a promise I plan on keeping.”

You looked down at your united hands and sighed. His hands had always been so big, way bigger than yours, which had always made you feel safe in a strange way. You bit your lip, not knowing what to do. You knew what you wanted, but you didn’t know if you were brave enough to do it.

“I love you”, you whispered.

“And I love you too”, he said back, rubbing your hands. “You’re my endgame.”

“Don’t use The Avengers against me”, you said, making him laugh. With a sigh, you looked up and it surprised you to find his green eyes so close to yours. “You can’t look at me with those eyes and expect me to give you a reasoned answer.”

“I don’t want you to follow reason”, he shrugged. “I want you to say what you really want.”

“You”, you said without hesitation. “Always. Every day.”

Harry smiled warmly and put some hair out of your face gently, before cupping your face.

Your heart was beating so fast and it felt so loud, that it surprised you that he couldn’t listen to it. You didn’t know what the right thing to do was, but you knew that reasoning about this wouldn’t get you anywhere. You knew you loved him, you knew you wanted to be with him. Maybe he was right. Maybe you could make it work this time. They said that third time was the charm, but maybe the second could be your charm.

“Is it a yes?” He asked, now looking at your lips.

“Yes”, you finally nodded.

His smile grew even bigger now before pulling you towards him and pressing his lips against yours. Just like every single time, you felt fireworks in your stomach. Ever since the first time you kissed him, you felt you could spend your whole time kissing him and would never get tired of it.

Maybe this time, you could do it forever.

[tundrainafrica]

Masterlist

This will serve as a personal tracker of all of the fics I have ever written, all of the books and series I have consumed etc. I wrote this out to help me organize my thoughts since I have time now to reflect on this closet hobby of mine. I also put it up just in case anyone has ever read my stuff and is curious about how these works are doing in my head space.

Some were written back when I was way younger so apologies for the quality.

ALEX RIDER

Come Home (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Memories don't keep people grounded in their present. They're the reason people think of what ifs and would haves, regrets and daydreams. Alex sees three dimensions of his reality and makes a decision. Set after Never Say Die.

Status: Done (I guess?), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet

Killing (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Spoilers for Never Say Die. Killing is like learning to ride a bike as Alex is going to figure out very soon. For Spyfest 2017.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet

Transparency (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Although the bank robbery made national news, the young boy who saved the lives of all the people in the bank didn't. First hand witness accounts said the boy was a hero, the media said there was no young hero in the bank and one journalist tries to get to the bottom of it all.

Status:WIP (could probably still finish it, it’s almost done anyway), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet)

Type II Error (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Written for Spyfest Week 3. Set before Ark Angel. The updates on payroll accounts and budgets lined up too well with mysterious deaths and undisclosed missions. An auditor working for MI6 decides for herself whether or not the orders of her bosses Blunt and Jones were worth prying into.

Status: Done (Oneshot), will post on tumblr yet

Unforeseen Circumstances (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

It's April, the time of year when most students start salvaging their grades. Missions had taken their toll on Alex's grades and he needs to start salvaging soon or risk repeating the year. Nature wasn't on his side though and it turned out that his devil's luck had just run out.

Status: WIP (8/15), On hold, not posted on tumblr yet

ATTACK ON TITAN

Levi and Hange’s Relationship in Erwin’s POV (Status: Completed, not posted yet)

A Tale of Two Slaves (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

"Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn't exist. Everything is a choice. At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him."

Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn't.

Status: WIP (6/?)

A Free Spot (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

Slight AU! Levi sacrifices himself in Chapter 132 instead of Hange and Hange deals with the consequences years later. Written for Levihan Angstober Week 4. Prompt: Free Spot 

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet

Division of Labor (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

"The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities the that awaited them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly..."

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Status: WIP (1/?)

En Prise (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Hange already had the innate analysis skills and the quick wittedness to excel in the classroom. Chess should have come easy for her. As she processed her fifth loss to the man in front of her, she started to understand that there was more to the game than meets the eye.

College AU! Levi is a little too good at chess and Hange gets roped into studying the game further.

Status: WIP (1/18), will try to create a backlog before I post more.

Heroes or Victims (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Post Chapter 115, Hange reflects on emotions, relationships, war philosophies, and a future while taking care of a severely injured Levi.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet

Household Planning (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

"It was Levi's household. The plates were arranged and sorted by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook."

Levi gets sick and Hange is left to navigate household chores.

Status: Done (2/2)

Passion Project (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)    

Levi tries to ignore Hange but it never seems to last. A ficlet detailing the development of Levi and Hange's relationship before canon.

Status: WIP (1/3) Timeline written, Chapter 2 rough draft complete, not posted on FFN yet

Rough Day (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

It should have been apparent to Hange by the weight gain and the sudden lack of red days. Somehow, Levi noticed it first.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet, will probably write more fluff similar to this

Sugar Rush

(AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Marley brings the celebration of Halloween to Paradis. Hange and Levi go trick or treating with their child for the first time and start to realize how much the world has changed since the war.

A Halloween piece for the Levihan spookfest one year late.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet, will probably write more fluff similar to this

Would You Cry? (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Hange asks an innocent question and Levi finds himself reflecting on his emotions and his relationship with Hange. Written for LeviHan Week, Angstober 2020. Prompt: Silence/Screams

Status: Done (Oneshot)

Vulnerabilities (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Slight AU! Although Levi is humanity's strongest soldier in the battlefield, his rough childhood had left him weaker and more vulnerable to illness. Levi had always taken measures to prevent sickness nit anyone who has ever been close to him caught wind on it anyway. A series of oneshots throughout the story focusing on Levi's chronic weakness and others taking care of him.

Status: Sporadic updates depending on mood, not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Big Hero Six

Deal with the Devil  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

When mourning becomes too much for him, Hiro finds himself resorting to prayers and deals to bring back the brother he lost. The devil may have had pity on him but he never promised to let Hiro go unscathed.

Status: WIP, on hold, probably could get back to it just need to rewatch the movie, not yet completely posted on AO3 and tumblr

Fatal Flaw  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Grieving may be a long and painful process but in time most people do recover. For Hiro Hamada though something probably went wrong along the way because from what Aunt Cass could see, he was moving on yet at the same time, he wasn't.

Status: WIP, abandoned, completely forgot what I was planning, not yet posted on tumblr 

Coco

Dares, Pranks and Curses (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Written for the Coco Valentines Fanwork Exchange. The night of Dia de Los Muertos, Miguel ends up staying out late to play a little game with his friends in the cemetery. Hector, Imelda and Miguel reunite through a game of Ouija.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Somewhere between Life and Death (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Dia de los Muertos isn't the only day the dead can visit the living. Miguel is reunited with Hector, Imelda and his other relatives from the other side but in one of the worst ways possible and he finds himself caught in a struggle between life and death.

Status: WIP 9/20, on hold, timeline is complete just need to get it written, need to fix tumblr tags

Crossovers

Quest for Origin: Ranger’s Apprentice x Percy Jackson (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

A young boy gets washed up on the shore of Camp Half Blood with no memories whatsoever of his life before. How did he end up there? Is it all just a coincidence? Or is it a message from the Gods? What's with his uncanny skill with the bow?

Status: On Hold (25/35), timeline complete, will probably continue with PJO TV show comes out, not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Kingdom Hearts

Coded Connection  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Post KH3. If Kairi keeps Sora's memory alive, he'll eventually call out to her right? Then it will be her turn to find him, hold him and never let go.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr and ff

Kuroko no Basuke

Yellow, Red, Green, Blue and Purple  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Collab with friend back in high school. All Kise wanted to do was complete one more level of Flow Free before practice starts. When you have teammates as lazy, eccentric, hyperactive, sociopathic or invisible as the Generation of Miracles though, sometimes the things that sound the simplest, can be the hardest to do. Crackfic

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr

Ranger’s Apprentice

Being a Ranger’s Wife  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

As Will leaves on a suicide mission, Alyss ponders on her choice to have married him.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr or AO3

Danger Zone (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Rangers are human. Humans make mistakes. The difference though between an ordinary human and a ranger is the consequences they'll eventually face for past mistakes. Will should have known that for rangers, this included being on the run from an angry group of pirates with his silver oakleaf on the line.

Status: Probably Abandoned, first fanfic I have ever written lmao, completely forgot where I was going with this, not yet posted on tumblr or ffn.

Farmer’s Apprentice  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Will lied to Mr. Chubb about stealing from the kitchen years ago. How did that small decision change the course of the young boy's life? AU Crack fic.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr or AO3

Masters, Apprentices and Sons (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Gilan accepts Morgarath's challenge in the Plains of Uthal and Halt is left to care for his apprentice in the aftermath of the battle. Halt wonders why it took him this long to realize that there was no fine line between an apprentice and a son.

Status: WIP. I have written out all the way until chapter 5 but I completely lost the files. I don’t know if my current frustration will allow me to continue this.

The Fall of a Hero  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Will had fallen from his place as one of the top rangers in the corps and one of the top figures in Araluen and it's up to his friends to help pull him back up. Recovery Fic.

Status: WIP, timeline not written, could probably still continue this, just need to catch up to the series

Prince of Tennis

A Break from Ingenuity  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Timing is everything. Fuji gets his timing wrong, makes one misstep then finds himself facing a career ending injury. Maybe, that's when everyone will realize that he's human too.

Status: WIP. Will probs continue if new POT content comes out.

Yuri on Ice

Surprises  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

With all the stress piling up for the Japanese National Championship and more importantly, the World Championship, one can expect an athlete to get injured. To have the coach be the one struck by a career ending injury during practice is another story. That's exactly how Victor surprised the crowd though, maybe for the last time.

Status: WIP (3/?), not yet posted on tumblr

[svtxsoju]

02. morning glory fizz | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is! ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Joshua x baking major!OC, and more TBA!  ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, suggestions of sex, language  ღ Word Count: 4.9k words  ღ Binu’s Note: a week late but better late than never i guess 😌 i’ve been avoiding tumblr to finish writing this, but i just kept getting distracted by choi seungcheol. hit that mf like button if you relate. i’m so excited for the special album y’all the teasers and concepts are so sadkfklsj i love seventeen

anyway, i apologize not only for the late update, BUT ALSO bc this chapter is also a lot of exposition again 😔🥺 i promise i’m done setting it all up and that some real shit will go down in the next chapter!! hopefully people will still be able to enjoy this chapter huhuhu 😭💗 if you’re reading this, i love u and i hope u have a good weekend!! 

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》

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Having already completed the first half of her college career, Joohyun was well aware of the value of sleep. And yet, like most college students, she could never  seem to manage a decent sleeping schedule. She had only slept 2 hours when her alarm went off at 5:30AM. She groggily rolled out of bed, mentally cursing her past self for thinking that this was a good idea when clearly, the best idea at the moment was to snuggle back up under her covers and sleep in until afternoon. Only one of her eyes seemed capable of staying open as she pulled on her clothes and got ready for the day. When she suddenly heard the front door close behind her roommate, she cursed out loud, throwing her laptop into her bag before she rushed out the door. She half-wobbled, half-hopped along the second-story walkway while she tried to get her shoes all the way on.

“Bok Bongseon! Wait for me!” Joohyun called out in an aggressive whisper.

“HOLY SHIT! You scared me, Joo!” her roommate, a shorter girl with full cheeks and pouty lips, screamed at full volume. She clutched at her racing heart and leaned against the wall while she caught her breath. 

“Shut up, people are still sleeping!” Joohyun linked arms with Bongseon and dragged her down the steps leading to the street. It was still dark outside, but she could already hear the faint bustling of the mart located below their apartment. It was nice to know that they weren’t the only two people in Seoul insane enough to be awake at this hour. 

“I thought you were the ghost of my grandma, you bitch! You know she visits me in my dreams to tell me how disappointed she that I’m a baker,” Bongseon said indignantly, though she still cuddled closer to Joohyun when they were hit by the morning chill. Once they reached the street, they both headed towards the train station without having to say a word.  “What are you even doing up?” 

“I am simply accompanying my favorite roommate to work to make sure that she gets there safely,” Joohyun crooned sweetly, and made kissy faces at the girl, who in turn pinched Joohyun’s lips between her calloused fingers. She tried to protest but could only let out pained whines until she was mercifully released. “Ow!” 

“Sorry but I cannot fulfill your roommates to lovers, 12k slowburn fantasy,” Bongseon continued on nonchalantly as they climbed down the steps to the platform. “You had your chance, but I am a taken girl!”

“Oh, so you and Josh are together today?” Joohyun teased. Although it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering her lips were slightly throbbing from the girl’s attack. “I’ll just wait until tomorrow then.” 

“Wow, bold words coming from Miss Fish Lips.” Bongseon raised an eyebrow and smiled tauntingly. “Understandable, considering  that that was probably the most action your lips have gotten in your entire life. I could probably set it up on a blind date with my fist, if you’d like.” 

Joohyun’s laughter echoed off the walls of the mostly empty station, startling the only other person waiting for the morning train (an old woman, who was still half-asleep prior to being rudely awakened by two very loud girls). Bongseon often made some colorful threats, morning or not, but Joohyun was one of the very few people who could be assured that her words were empty. “Don’t you know that it’s rude to stare, lady?” she barked at the old woman, who was openly glaring at them. Everyone else, on the other hand, was subject to Bongseon’s sharp temper.

This even included her boyfriend of approximately 4 years. ‘Approximately’ being the key word, because the two often took breaks--  a natural phenomenon when one partner was easily provoked and the other loved to do the provoking. Jihoon had told Joohyun that the two had met at the cafe in their freshman year, when Bongseon came in as a part-time baker and Joshua was merely a barista trainee. They started dating within a month and moved into an apartment together in two. That went just as well as anyone would expect. By the grace of whatever entity that was chaotic enough to keep their relationship intact, they made it 7 months before nearly breaking things off for good. As luck would have it though, a new hire and his roommate were in the same exact predicament as them. Kind of. 

Joohyun shuddered to recall her freshman year when she and Jihoon somehow convinced themselves that it was a good idea to share an apartment. In principle it made sense; they had lived across the street from each other since they were in diapers. Two exhausting months into trying to irritate the other into breaking the lease first, they met Bongseon and Joshua when Jihoon started working at Smile Flower. It didn’t take long for Joohyun to suggest the switch— she would move in with Bongseon and Joshua with Woozi. Just like that, she saved both Bongseon and Joshua’s turbulent romance (temporarily) and her and Woozi’s fractured friendship (now thriving). 

She and Bongseon have been roommates ever since, and Joohyun knew her life was a little easier for it. 

“Joohyun, you better stop looking at me with those heart eyes before I really act up,” Bongseon warned. They had boarded the train, but hadn’t bothered to sit down since Mansae University station was only two stops away. 

“But I just love you so much,” Joohyun pouted, affectionately resting her head on her friend’s shoulder. “What does Joshua have that I don’t?” 

“A dick. And that’s about it.” 

“Damn you, heterosexuality!” 

Bongseon snorted out a laugh. “Seriously Joo, how are you awake right now? You’re only ever this lovey-dovey when you’re severely sleep deprived. I know you don’t have classes until 3PM today. You also don’t have your internship today,” Bongseon narrowed her eyes when Joohyun visibly tensed up at the mention of her current occupation. “Also, since when do you watch Youtube videos until 2am? And don’t think I didn’t notice that all of them were titled ‘Relationship Q&A’s’ and ‘I confessed to my crush and he said this!!!’. Got something to tell me, missy?” 

It was so quiet on the train that Joohyun worried that Bongseon could hear all the wires in her brain short-circuit. With Bongseon’s cross-examination skills, it was a wonder why she pursued baking instead of joining her family’s firm. Come on, Joohyun, just tell a white lie. Easy, simple. Don’t need to overcomplicate things. “Oh, uh I— um— well, I j-just thought they were entertaining?” She was done for. 

“Right. You thought random couples self-indulgently talking about their love lifes for 40 minutes with default iMovies effects were entertaining.”  

“Y-yes?” Joohyun threw in her most convincing smile for good measure, but it did nothing to soften Bongseon’s hard gaze. “It’s my new guilty pleasure, haha!”  

“Hm, interesting,” Bongseon was momentarily interrupted by the sound of the arrival bell. Joohyun eagerly pulled her friend towards the exit, hoping that the distance from the train could also get her further away from the topic. Unfortunately for her, Bongseon did not plan on dropping it so soon. “You sure you don’t want to tell me anything, Joo? About your internship?” 

Joohyun began to sweat. Was she really that transparent? “Okay, don’t get mad--”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m super jazzed that you’re getting into relationships and everything, but really Joo? Youtube? You could just talk to me if you need help talking to your new crush at your job!” 

“Oh.” Joohyun would have let out a sigh of relief if she wasn’t out of breath from climbing the mountain of stairs up to the sidewalk. “Right. Confessing. To my crush. That I definitely have.”

“It’s okay to admit you have one, Joo. I’m no  stranger to workplace romance,” Bongseon said, her breathing completely even. A measly flight of stairs was nothing compared to eight hours of kneading dough. “Who’s the lucky bastard, Joo?” 

“Well, I’m not sure I would call it a workplace romance, per se…” Joohyun laughed nervously. There was no way she could stick another clean landing if she kept talking. 

“Shut up, I bet that guy is in love with you already. Who wouldn’t fall for the only editing intern at The Front?” 

“Haha, I don’t know…” Probably no one, because the only editing intern at The Front doesn’t exist? 

Joohyun could not be more relieved to see the small store front of Smile Flower Cafe. It was one amongst the many cafes located near campus, but Joohyun felt like nothing really matched its comforting home-like ambience. But that probably had less to do with the soft wooden floors and pastel ceramic mugs, and more owed to the three years Joohyun had spent hanging around there, usually bothering Jihoon and joking around with Josh. 

The two boys already stood waiting at the cafe’s entrance, too bleary-eyed to notice Joohyun and Bongseon quickly approaching. “Hey, ugly!” Joohyun called out, snickering when both of them turned to look at her. 

“What the hell, why are you awake?” 

“Good morning to you too, Jihoon,” she answered, blowing him a kiss. “I’m actually here to see you, believe it or not. Don’t you feel special?”

“Oh? That’s interesting, because you told me that you came here for me,” Bongseon broke away from exchanging actual kisses with Joshua to look between Joohyun and Jihoon in a way that Joohyun did not like too much.  “I guess it wasn’t a workplace romance after all.” 

Joshua mirrored his girlfriend’s implicating expression as he unlocked the front door, simply because he knew it made his friends squirm. “Wow Joohyun, you woke up this early just to talk to Jihoon? You really couldn’t wait to see him, huh?” 

“Uh, yes because I need his help—”

“Ah, his help, gotcha! Come on, Bongseon, I’ll go help you in the kitchen while these two help each other out here,” Joshua snickered. Before Joohyun or Jihoon could roast the couple in retaliation, they had already disappeared behind the counter. 

After years of similar taunts, all Jihoon could do was shake his head. “Okay Joo, what is so important that you need my help at 6 in the morning?”

“I wrote my first response last night!” Joohyun whispered excitedly, taking out her laptop from her bag. “Well, a few hours ago. I wanted to show you before continuing on with the rest! Here, look.” 

① Dear Miss Soju, 

I just started my first year at MU and she’s an exchange student from New York. We met at a party and talked for two hours about comics, aliens, anything we could think of. It was perfect. She even asked me to walk her home. When the time came for me to make a move though, I kind of dropped the ball. Since we had just met that night, I didn’t want to come off too strong. Now I really regret it - I don’t even have her phone number. I feel like such an idiot! I can’t stop thinking about her, but I don’t even know if I’ll ever talk to her again. Did I make myself seem disinterested? Will we meet again? Will she even remember me?

Sincerely,

Big Cringy Idiot

She let Jihoon read the asker’s message first, then scrolled down to show her answer.

Dear Big Cringy Idiot,

You and your crush seem to have a lot in common. There is nothing wrong with being nervous around someone you like. In fact, it is fairly normal and is a good sign that you like this girl very much. She also seems open to any future possiblities, since she did ask you to take her home. You need not worry about coming off too strong in this situation, although I do admire your dedication to respecting women’s boundaries. I hope you are able to find this girl again so that you can truly tell her how you feel. Best of luck to you!

Sincerely,

Miss Soju

“Joo, that was…” 

“Poetic, beautiful, life-changing?” Joohyun grinned, and nudged her best friend with each suggestion.

“Boring. It was boring.” Joohyun’s face fell, and Jihoon could only offer the girl an apologetic smile. “Dude, you’re gonna put people to sleep if you keep it up like this. I almost took out a pillow to take a nap on the floor.”

“But this is how I write my articles— Informative and concise! How else am I supposed to write it?”

“I mean, that’s great for reporting articles, but this is an advice column. It’s supposed to be fun, sarcastic maybe. Like your promo piece! That was good.” 

“I wrote that as a joke, hoping they would fire me for it,” Joohyun admitted, eyes wide in panic as she looked at her best friend. 

“Huh. Well, I think it would sound better than this Wikipedia article you got going on,” Jihoon shrugged. “Try to be fun!”

“I am fun!” Joohyun cried out defensively, her nostrils flaring with passion. When Jihoon responded with a doubtful look, she let out a dramatic gasp and snatched up her laptop, stomping over to her favorite corner in the cafe. “I can be fun! I’ll show you fun!” 

 “Atta girl,” Jihoon’s signature cackle filled the cafe, further fueling the girl’s aggressive typing. 

Just another morning in the life of So Joohyun.

To the surprise of the cafe’s current occupants, a student already tapped at the glass entrance, clearly in desperate need of his morning americano. He had walked all the way from the freshman dorms after a restless night of tossing and turning. When his phone screen told him it was already 6:05AM, he decided to just give up on sleep altogether. So there he was, trying to start off his day right, at Smile Flower Cafe, only to be stopped at the door by the grumpy barista with the red hair. He always felt like the other one was way nicer, especially since he would go out of his way to sneak him free cookie samples and made pleasant small talk while ringing him up (what was his name? Jonathan?). 

  All the red-haired barista ever did was scowl at him when he asked for a student discount. Now, he scowled at him as he gestured at the sign that indicated that the cafe would not be open until 7AM. The fatigued freshman had half a mind to make some choice gestures of his own, but he refrained and just whipped out his phone instead. He gave the mean barista one last pout before turning around and walking towards the 24-hour convenience store on campus.

➠ [ to: vernonie 😌😎  ] Good morning king. Are you still on your shift ?

➠ [ from: vernonie 😌😎  ] gm seungkwan pls k*ll me 

Seungkwan took that as a yes. It didn’t take long for him to arrive, the entrance bell ringing lightly when he stepped into the small store. At the register sat his roommate, who was clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. “Wol-cuh ‘n—” he tried to greet through a wide-mouthed yawn. “Excuse me, welcome in! Oh, hey Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan answered with a grunt and headed straight for the refrigerated coffee section, choosing the largest can.

“Uh dude, you good? You look like—”

“Like I haven’t slept all night? I am aware,” He immediately opened his coffee and took a long gulp of the beverage in hopes of feeling even a little better. When it did nothing after 30 seconds, he frowned at the concerned cashier. “Vernon, I will not be paying for this drink, because it is clearly defective. Coffee is supposed to fix everything.” 

“Is this about your audition today?” Vernon asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Your monologue sounded really solid last night though. Your audition songs were great too. You totally got this in the bag!” 

“It’s not just about the audition, sweet Vernon,” Seungkwan sighed. “It’s about who I’m going to see at the audition. I still don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.”

“Oh yeah, you are probably going to see them later.” For the past week, all Seungkwan could talk about was the theater tech sophomore that he had met at the theater department’s welcome party. They had sat beside Seungkwan and had helped him through all the fast-paced drinking games, and even took some of his shots when he kept losing. Surely, this was what love felt like.

That was what Seungkwan hoped anyway, because whatever it was made him feel all warm and tingly inside (or it could have just been the alcohol). Nevertheless, he had made big plans to confess to his crush as soon as possible. His dilemma for the past several days was merely a matter of how it would be done. “Not probably! I know for a fact that they will be there, because they told me that they couldn’t wait to see me,” Seungkwan let out a wail and slumped over the counter. “They’re the sweetest, most beautiful person to ever walk the earth and I just want to tell them that I would actually jump off a bridge for them. Why is that so difficult?” 

Vernon nodded sympathetically as he always did. “I mean, if you’re not ready today, maybe you could wait?”

“Wait?! No offense babe, but last time I checked, waiting didn’t get you anywhere,” Seungkwan said,  patting his roommate’s arm. Vernon cringed as he was forced to remember his own romantic blunder from the past week. “Clearly, we are both in major need of help. That Woozi guy’s show didn’t do anything for us! Also, we still haven’t heard from that Miss Soju character and it’s been what? Two days? If she’s such an expert, she would know that love is time sensitive!” 

“Ugh, I know. I keep refreshing The Front’s website just to see if she’s posted it yet.” Vernon sighed forlornly, which was a common punctuation to his sentences lately. “It’s getting me really antsy. What if she doesn’t even choose to answer our emails this time?” 

Seungkwan quickly covered the other freshman’s mouth. “Don’t say that! The universe manifests what we say will happen. We should ask for divine intervention instead.” He cleared his throat in preparation and threw his hands up to the sky. “O Eros, god of love, please shine your blessings down upon my and Vernonie’s love lives for we are but two humble, clueless freshmen in need of romantic guidance. Send down two of your swiftest, sharpest arrows, so that those that we desire may hear your soft whispers—”

Ding. The sound of the entrance bell rang once more, stopping Seungkwan’s prayer short, much to his irritation. “Is this a bad time?” the new customer, an ethereally handsome blonde, asked amusedly. He strode into the store and grabbed two spicy tuna triangle kimbab’s before approaching the counter. 

“Jeonghan hyung!” 

“Ah, Vernon!” Jeonghan smiled. “I didn’t know you worked here. You should come by my and Cheol’s apartment again soon, that was fun!”

“Hyung, this is my roommate that I told you about-- Seungkwan. And Seungkwan, this is Seungcheol hyung’s roommate,” Vernon said all while ringing up Jeonghan’s food. On the side, Seungkwan bowed sheepishly after unfreezing from his previous pose. “How’s your morning going? You wake up pretty early!” 

Jeonghan laughed heartily, shaking his head. “Oh no, I just finished an all-night stream. I just came by to get a snack before heading to bed. Seems like you two have been having a fun morning, though. Do you two always start your day off by praying to the ancient Greek god of desire?” 

Seungkwan flushed a deep pink. “Uh no, it was more like a cry of desperation. Vernon and I are having a pretty tough time confessing to our crushes, so I figured we should just try out anything that might help us. Nothing else seems to be working…” 

“Wait, that’s so cute,” Jeonghan cooed. 

“Would you be able to give us some advice, hyung?” Vernon asked. He didn’t know anything about the senior’s love life, but he did give off the vibe of someone who would know… a lot. 

Jeonghan’s eyes twinkled dangerously, a lazy smirk on his lips. “I mean, I could go talk to your little crushes for you, if you’d like. I’m sure I could get some sort of response out of them.”

One look at Jeonghan had Vernon and Seungkwan shaking their heads vehemently.

“No, we’re good.”

“Yeah, no thanks.” 

“Mm, good call.” Jeonghan took his food from the counter, and winked at the two boys. “I really wish I could help you both more, but I’m sure you’ll get what you’re waiting for soon! Today, if you want it enough.” 

There was something in the way that the senior stated those words that made Seungkwan believe him without a question. It wasn’t a naive suggestion or an optimistic prediction; Jeonghan spoke like it was the truth plainly written on the walls. He finally felt a long-awaited wave exhaustion wash over his anxieties, softening them until they fizzled away alongside the ebbing foam. All that was left behind were grains of sand. Suddenly, Seungkwan yawned,  and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his twin bed at the dorms. 

“Well, I should be heading off to bed! Looks like you should be too, Seungkwan,” Jeonghan said, suppressing his own yawn. The freshman nodded in agreement. He definitely needed to rest up— this was going to be a big day, after all. 

“Say hi to Cheol hyung for me when you get home!” Vernon said. 

Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully as he made his way back to the entrance of the store. “I will if he’s there! He didn’t come home last night.” He turned to leave the boys with one last sleepy smile, seeming to laugh at something only he knew. 

“At least one of us is doing something right.” 

“Jihoon, why can’t I get this right?” 

“I’m sorry! This just sounds nothing like you,” Jihoon shrugged. It had been a rather busy morning, but things slowed down as it approached noon, giving him the chance to look at Joohyun’s fourth draft of responses.  “I’ve never heard you say stuff like ‘rad’ or ‘hella’... Like are you aware that you sound like a skater from the late 90’s?” 

“That’s because the reference I’ve been using is from 1997!” Joohyun huffed in frustration. She was already backspacing albeit with a little more force than necessary. “I wasn’t even born in ‘97!” 

“Exactly, so stop trying to write like that. What if you tried to—” 

“Eat my ass, Hong!” The sound of the kitchen door slamming open interrupted Jihoon’s (probably unhelpful) suggestion, and the two best friends watched as Bongseon stormed out of the cafe in a familiar rage. Luckily, there were no customers to witness it this time. 

Instinctively, they looked to the kitchen door, where Joshua stood with a resigned smile on his full lips. “Oops,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck apologetically. “Guess it was too soon to joke about our last break. Sorry about that, Jihoon. I’ll try to call in the head baker early to finish up the rest of the pastries for today.” 

He walked over to where they sat and plopped himself across from Joohyun. She offered Joshua a look of sympathy, but he responded by twisting his face up in a dumb expression, reassuring her that he was just fine. Still,  she couldn’t help feeling worried for both of her friends. No matter how many times Bongseon and Joshua broke it off and no matter how much Joohyun joked about it, she knew that their strong feelings for each other meant that it hurt a little every time they got into a fight. At least, that’s what she gathered from the various nights she spent soothing Bongseon while the girl cried into a toilet bowl, soju bottle still in hand. 

“It’s okay, Josh, you probably don’t have to worry too much. Knowing her, she’ll probably be back in 30 minutes to make up with you and then Jihoon will have to find someone to take over your shift,” Joohyun piped up. “But please take it back to your apartment this time, because I don’t make enough money to have every surface of my apartment sanitized again.” 

Joshua let out an easy laugh, as though he were not a man in deep shit. “Thank you, Joo. You always know what to say to make me feel better,” he sighed. “I should probably go after her. I’ll be back soon, Jihoon!” 

She waited for him to disappear out the door before turning to her best friend. “Wow, that’s gotta be a new record for them, right? I didn’t even know they got back together until this morning.” Joohyun was surprised to find that Jihoon had been silently staring at her for a good minute now. “...Why are you looking at me?” 

“What you said to Joshua,” Jihoon simply replied. 

“Oh, I was only joking about the sanitation thing. I just walked in on them once in the kitchen—“

“No I mean, how you said it. Maybe that’s how you should be writing your responses.” Jihoon grinned, watching as Joohyun gave him that look again, the one where she looks at him like he’s speaking from a third head. But he knew that this was going to be another Jihoon Genius moment, which seemed to be happening more frequently lately, much to his satisfaction. “Like you’re talking to one of your friends. I mean, it made Josh feel better, right?”

Joohyun’s eyebrows scrunched together and she mulled the idea over. Without another word to Jihoon, she began to slowly type on her laptop, gradually tapping faster and faster as she gained momentum. Her best friend giddily returned to his place behind the counter to tend to the customers that just walked in. He knew that once she got into a groove, there was no hope of stopping her. 

An hour later, Joohyun finally pushed away her laptop and waited for Jihoon to finish wiping down a table before calling him over. For some reason, she was anxious to show him the final product and even when he already sat besie her, she hesitated for a beat. Usually, her writing was professional and objective, always ending with a declarative period. She had spent years perfecting her reporting style so that when she presented the facts, that’s all they were. This, however, felt personal, like it was a part of her. And even though Jihoon probably knew her even better than herself sometimes, there was something so vulnerable about showing someone a side of her that she had only just discovered. 

And yet, she was curious to know— desperate to know: was it any good? 

“Well?” Joohyun watched for Jihoon’s reaction closely, both impatient and terrified to hear his thoughts. 

“Joohyun, this...” Jihoon started slowly. She braced for impact. “This is it. I think you’ve found Miss Soju’s voice.”

She exhaled. “R-really?”

“Yes, really. You answered the questions so thoughtfully, so you know it’s not just some generic bullshit you found on the internet. Plus, it was fun to read, like I think I’d read this even if I didn’t send a letter in,” Jihoon gushed, all while skimming over the words again. He turned to smile brightly at her, reminding Joohyun of a much younger Jihoon back in their elementary school days. “Most importantly though, it’s so you.”

Joohyun returned the smile, just as brightly. Warmth bloomed in her chest and across her cheeks. “Thanks, Jihoon, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Honestly, me neither,” Jihoon laughed.

“Um, can I ask you one more thing though?” Joohyun scrolled down to the last two entries, both of which asked for advice on how to make things official with a guy they’ve been talking to. The two letters were extremely similar in detail, but had been sent from two different emails and two different signatures. At first, she thought that maybe her judgement was muddled by her lack of sleep, and as the day went on, she figured her inability to recognize any nuance between the two letters was thanks her lack of experience. 

There was just something about the way they had described the boy. She knew that  intelligent, funny, kind-hearted, and unbelievably handsome were pretty generic adjectives. But what were the odds for both letters to also mention his infectious laugh and deep, dark eyes? “Do you think these two are from the same person? I’m trying to go for a confession theme for this article, so I included them both, but I’m afraid they’re too similar.” 

Jihoon read them over a couple of times, then shrugged. “They do sound pretty similar, but a lot of people go through that sort of thing. Also, so many people describe their crushes like that, but let’s be real, most of them end up being fuckboys. So trust me, both those people probably need your help. I mean, what’s the harm in publishing both, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Joohyun bit her lip, needing every ounce of reassurance she could get from her best friend. She read over her writing once, twice, thrice more. This was it. No more edits and no more excuses. Her finger hovered over the mousepad. “Okay, I”m going to send it in for approval now. Jihoon, you are about to witness me publish my first article for The Front.” 

Joohyun took a deep breath and clicked. Finally.

[matildashoney]

Loving You’s the Antidote: Chapter Six

MASTERLIST

MOODBOARD // PREV/IEW(S) // TAG LIST // TAGS // PLAYLIST

TAG LIST: @ihearthemcallingforyou​​, @cock-a-doodely-doo

WARNING: CHAPTER INCLUDES SEXUAL CONTENT.

talk to me about it! feedback is greatly appreciated!

Sunday Dinner.

One day a week that was designated for the family to gather around – especially now that two out of three of the children have left the nest – and have a nice, home-cooked dinner and dessert and a film that everyone has seen one too many times.

Mom and Dad’s house never changed. Always the same tinted beige on the siding, a gentle baby blue shutter outside every window, the colourful florals filling the boxes on the top floor. Dad wanted the Southern Charm. Mom wanted a taste of Paris. They settled on something near California twang. On the interior, Mom made home. All of the walls decorated with family portraits and your paintings and the photographs that Grandma gave her on her very last visit. All of it – the cracks in the wood, the chips in the paint, crooked frames – was home.

Dad and Brandon are in the living room, Mom outside tending to the garden of vegetables that would begin blooming in the near future, Phoebe in her bedroom talking about something One Direction-related obnoxiously.

Hiding Harry – and the relationship she has with him – away from Phoebe might be the hardest part.

“Hello, hello,” Mom quips as Amelie walks inside, toeing her shoes at the carpet and laying her bag on the makeshift table, the golden trotting to her side to greet her. “Dad’s in the living room with B. Phoebe is upstairs. Have everything almost done!”

Mom is clad in her favourite Sunday Outfit – the necessarily painted jeans, a white blouse, and her favourite slippers that she purchases from a tiny shop in the outskirts of Paris every time she visits home. Her hair is greying ginger, and although she loves it, she refuses to colour it. Makes me feel wise, sweetheart.

“Mama,” Amelie says hesitantly, kissing her cheek, sitting on the chipping barstools – her idea was that every year her children would repaint their barstool, and eventually all the paint would become an eclectic memory – and taking a sliver of the tomato chopped on the cutting board, “j'ai besoin de votre aide pour quelque chose.”

Mama, I need your help with something.

Mom sets the knife down, her palms flat on the counter, her light green eyes staring into her daughter’s. “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?”

“Know how I told you that I started seeing someone,” Amelie begins, her heart pounding in her chest, her cheeks flushed with her anxiety and the anticipation. “He’s in Melbourne, right now. He’ll be there for Valentine’s Day.”

“Okay,” Mom urges, her attention moving to the exaggerated shouting in the living room from her husband and eldest.

“I,” she stutters, her palms sweaty and sticking to her jeans, her tongue wetting her chapped lips, “I think I want to go see him.”

“Chéri,” Mom coos, walking around the counter and settling on the stool nearest to her, taking her hands in hers and drawing circles with her thumbs, “qui est ce garçon?”

“His name is Harry,” she murmurs, laying her phone on the counter and showing her their favourite picture from his birthday a week earlier. “He’s on tour.”

Mom’s eyes are wide, fully aware of who Harry is. Her mouth is slightly agape, her hand covering her parted lips as she stares at the picture – Harry kissing Amelie’s cheek, his arms wrapped around her waist, her hands covering her eyes. Her cheeks shade a light pink, her sigh sounding in a tone of awe.

“That’s the Harry from Phoebe’s band, yeah? One Direction,” Mom says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, ensuring that her youngest wouldn’t hear and interrupt the conversation. “Comment as-tu réussi ce coup, mon amour?”

“No idea, Mama,” she sighs, a smile tugging at her lips as his contact swipes across the screen with a message. “He’s so good to me.”

Good morning, doll. Have fun at family dinner. Call me when you’re home. x

“You love Harry,” Mom smiles, kissing her hair sweetly, standing from the crooked stool and reaching for her laptop, opening the screen and gathering all the information for a flight. “Nona did this for me, especially when Dad flew to North Carolina for that film. Great Grandma did that Nona when she wanted to take the train to Papa in Paris for the weekend.”

“Didn’t know that Nona took a train to Paris for Papa,” Amelie murmurs, typing in the information for the airport that Glenne had given her the day before. “You flew to North Carolina for Dad.”

“Il faut savoir ce que tu veux et aller le chercher, chérie.” Mom pokes her head into the living room, Dad grinning ear to ear to see her, Brandon waving towards her as Daisy nudges at his hand to pet her. “En utilisant la carte de crédit, mon amour.”

“Okay,” Dad hums, standing to give her a kiss. “Guessing by how quiet you are, I shouldn’t say anything to Phoebe or B.”

“Our secret,” Mom smirks, kissing his cheek sweetly. “Doing what Mama asked us to do like they did for us. Giving her a chance.”

“Good.” Dad squeezes her into a hug, Mom melting into him. “Hi, honeybee.”

“Hi, Dad.”

“Oh mon Dieu,” Mom squeaks, rushing to the stove and quieting the heat, ensuring that the meal wouldn’t burn. “All the time.”

“J'ai failli brûler sa cuisine la semaine dernière,” she giggles, shaking your head at the memory. “Not fully burnt down, but I definitely burnt our chicken and ordered us pizza, instead.”

“Happens to the best, and worst, of us.”

“No longer allowed in his kitchen unless I’m supervised,” she laughs, her attention turning to the doorway where her youngest sister stood with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. “Oh, what’s wrong, Pheebs? You look like someone told you a concert got cancelled.”

“Have a show on Valentine’s Day and Cassie was supposed to livestream and apparently the internet in the arena is being worked on,” Phoebe sighs, hugging her momentarily and settling onto the stool beside her, her eyes squinting suspiciously as she closes her phone and lays it beneath her thigh. “Cancelled going to a party so I could watch with Cass.”

“Can’t you still go to the party? Not like you were uninvited,” she reasons, her heart beginning to beat heavily in her chest with anxiety.

Does Phoebe know already?

“Guess so,” she sighs frustratedly, shaking her head and heaving a breath with annoyance. “I’ll probably stay home and wait for updates, anyways.”

Mom’s eyes meet hers, Have you told her?

Of course not, she mouths, forcing a smile as her younger sister takes the cutlery and sets it along the table.

“God, you’ve gotten weirder since you turned twenty.”

Have to tell her soon, Mom whispers, kissing Phoebe’s hair as she takes the decorated plates and begins laying each on their designated mat – the ones that we painted every year that we needed a new change in the kitchen aura – to accompany the meal.

Know that and I will, she swears, her eyes meeting her younger sister and opening her arms for a hug, smiling as she stalks towards her with a pout on her lips. “I’m sure someone will livestream the show, Pheebs.”

“I’m just annoyed,” she grumbles, leaning her cheek on her sister’s shoulder and having her arms hang loosely around her torso. “Can I be an adult already and get to travel to see all of my favourite shows whenever I want, already?”

“Don’t think that’s how it works,” Amelie hums, stifling her laughter against her hand, her lips tucking into her mouth to mask your smile.

“Harry would probably pay for his girlfriend’s flight to visit him. Niall, too,” she groans. “That is such an unfair thing. There is someone out there that gets to love Harry Styles.”

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

“Enough with the impending doom until after supper, Phoebe,” Mom muses, shaking her head and walking into the living room to tell Dad and B. Her wink towards her telling her that she could see the anxiety on her face, encouraging her to relax.

Having – more or less – hippies as a mother and father, Family Dinner is certainly something other than functional and orderly.

Mom talks about the novel she sent to the editor earlier in the week, one more approval needed to finalise one section of the publication contract. Dad mentions in passing that he has to be at a film set early in the morning for the promotional campaign shoot. Heads turn as Brandon brings up asking Autumn – his girlfriend since the age of thirteen – to marry him. Phoebe complains about not seeing Harry and Niall as soon as she wanted. Congratulations ensued as Amelie mentions that the mural at the bakery is complete and perfected.

I’ll take you to the airport, Mom whispers as Amelie hugs her goodbye. Her petite body wraps tightly around hers, squeezing her tightly. You should tell Phoebe before someone else tells her.

Calling Harry on her way home, her mind is racing with all that her mother said, all that her sister said, all that she has to be done before she leaves in a mere three days.

Harry talks quietly in the background as she readies herself for the night, her hair strung in a towel and one of the band’s tour shirts clinging to her damp skin, her lips coated with her – and his – favourite chapstick. He mentions the flowers that are outside his hotel, how the season is so much brighter than London. He asks about Mom and Dad, Phoebe and Brandon. One day I’ll bring you out here, Harry says.

All that replays in her mind is her mother’s words, and the flight confirmation sitting in her email.

Have to know what you want and get it, honey.

/ / /

“Welcome to Melbourne,” the flight attendant announces on the speaker, the lights slowly beginning to brighten and wake the sleeping guests scattered about the plane. Amelie’s carry on is tucked in the overhead bin, an older gentleman offering to get it for her as she struggled to reach.

If Harry was here, he’d be making fun of you for being too short.

Amelie sinks into Harry’s sweatshirt, smirking at the fact that her father would be seething with her wearing a Greenbay Packers anything. Her fingers quickly type on the screen, Harry’s name with an accompanying picture at the centre.

Need your hotel and room number, please and thank you. Don’t ask questions.

Harry takes a minute to respond and Amelie can see the expression on his face, the furrowed eyebrows and squinted eyes, his bottom lip pulled between his fingertips.

The Langham, Room 702. I’m about to get in the shower. Should I stay out a bit longer?

Her mouth curves into a smile as she notices a bouquet selection near the exit. Her attention immediately goes to the sunflowers and daisies in the corner, paying and quickly making her way outside to meet the security guard that Niall arranged with her.

Give it like twenty minutes.

His response comes immediately, the suspicion evident in his text. He doesn’t question her, simply responding and taking a seat on the unmade bed. He shuts the water in the shower, heaving a breath and sinking into the mattress, trying to think through everything.

Alright.

Laying there is unbearable, Harry standing up and beginning to pace around his bedroom nervously. He can’t quite grasp the idea of her coming to Melbourne. That would be simply impossible with university and the artwork projects and family dinners.

That would be impossible, wouldn’t it?

Although unlikely, twenty minutes felt like hours. Harry wasn’t a patient person. He became bored easily and the idea of having to wait for something his girlfriend was surprising him with, and being without a single idea, gave him a headache.

His ears perk to the knocking on his suite door, quiet chatter outside, his feet padding against the carpet and his hands yanking a stray shirt over his naked torso. His chest deflates at the sight of Niall holding a bouquet of sunflowers and daisies – certainly from her.

“How–”

“Quite the selection they have at the airport,” Amelie squeaks, laying her miniature knapsack against the wall and smiling, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as his arms circle her waist, squeezing her into him as tightly as physically possible. “Harry, I can’t breathe.”

“Bye, you two,” Niall smirks, handing Harry the bouquet and turning to return to his suite.

Harry chuckles, releasing his grip on her slightly, taking the bouquet from his friend and nudging her bag inside with his foot, his arm continuing to stay wrapped around her and hugging her to his chest. “Sorry, I’ve just missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” she whispers, closing the door behind her, his cheeks taken in her hands, her lips moulding to his and soaking in his kiss, the bouquet set on the nearby table, his fingertips gripping her hips. “Glad you didn’t shower and leave me out there.”

“Would never do that to you,” he smirks, his thumbs tracing her bottom lip, stealing a kiss innocently. “Can’t believe you’re here.”

“One very long flight later,” she smirks, kissing his cheek and jaw sweetly, her arms squeezing him tighter in her embrace. “Good thing I sleep on planes.”

“Forty fucking hours, love,” Harry whispers, gently nudging her cheek, his mouth moulding onto hers and savouring the way she kisses him.

Amelie smiles against his lips, obsessed with the way his reaction made her heart swell against her chest and heat radiate on her skin. “Considering I can wake up with you on Valentine’s Day, it’ll be worth it.”

“Tell me you didn’t bring that knapsack and that’s it.”

“Had to check into m’room and shower, first,” she says, lightly tugging on the curls and kissing the vein in his neck, smiling at his moan as her lips touch the centre and nip at his skin. “All of m’stuff is there.”

“You’re not staying in another room,” Harry breathes shakily, his hands travelling across her hips and squeezing her bum. “You’ll stay with your boyfriend.”

“Know that but I needed to get here without you finding out,” she smirks, a heavy breath leaving her lips as his mouth begins mapping kisses along her neck, biting into the skin and marking her, their bodies walking backwards into the bedroom, his hands gently nudging her against the wall.

“Must’ve cost loads,” Harry mutters, his lips sweetly kissing her jaw. “You’re not allowed to buy another plane ticket to see me. I’ll get it.”

“Can thank Mom for me being here,” Amelie sighs, adoring the feeling of his mouth on her, the way his fingertips dig into her hips, holding her tightly to him. “Bought m’flight and all that. Came from a whole story about women in m’family travelling for their men. Apparently, it’s a thing they do. Take chances on nice guys, and all that.”

“Oh,” Harry smirks cockily at that, his teeth dragging her bottom lip as he kisses her hungrily, the briefs beginning to feel all too tight against his cock and tensing thighs. “’m a nice guy to take a chance on, then?”

“Think so,” Amelie moans, her eyelashes laying against her cheeks, all her thoughts hyper-focused on Harry’s hands trailing beneath her – his – sweatshirt, his thumbs tracing over the curves of her breasts. “Can feel you trying to distract me about the flight.”

“Give up on paying for your next flight,” Harry says sternly, silently praising the way there wasn’t a lacy bralette to get in his way. “Quicker you do that, quicker you’ll have the best shag of your life on that unmade bed, over there.”

“Fine.”

“My sweatshirt, hm?” Harry smirks, gently taking the material and tossing it onto the carpet, the cotton leggings adoring her hips rubbing uncomfortably against his hips. Her lips suck at the skin on his collarbone, the skin bright red and adorning a temporary mark.

“You left it,” Amelie mutters against him. Her thighs tense at the feeling of his fingertips ghosting across the lace waistband of her panties, his thumbs tucked into the material and dragging it slightly. “Harry.”

“Did it on purpose.” Harry nudges Amelie against the mattress, her cheeks flushing as his eyes travel along her body, taking in every inch of her figure, the curves and the tattoos and the lines that make her. “Up,” he murmurs, smiling as she lifts her hips and her panties accompany the clothing on the ground.

Harry kisses her inner thighs sweetly, coaxing her to relax with his touch. He gently massages her hips, smiling against her skin as she breathes out an airy moan, her fingertips curling through his hair, his arms tucked under her bum to have her core meet his mouth. He lays his tongue against her heat, savouring the way she tastes so sweet, his lips suckling on her clit the way she loves.

Amelie’s moans spur him further, the moans vibrating against her making the orgasm overwhelm her senses. His fingertips tease her heat, gently inching into her and curling against the velvet walls that squeeze him, the sucking against the nerves between her thighs having her chase her orgasm with white vision and moans.

His tongue continues to lay on her heat, taking her orgasm and humming with the taste, his fingertips between his lips to have all of her. His smirk is enough to make her squeeze her thighs together, the way he is so happy to please her making her want to have him again and again and again. He sponges kisses along her inked thighs and belly, teasingly biting her nipples as his mouth works his way back to hers.

“Get on the bed,” Amelie tells him, her jaw clenched as Harry smirks and tosses the remaining clothes on his torso. “Don’t smirk at me like that.”

“Not doing anything,” Harry smirks, his cheeks tinging pink as Amelie manoeuvres around him and settles between his thighs. “Gon’a kill me looking at me like that.”

Her fingertips ghost across his thighs, her lips touching his skin, smirking against him as his hand gently takes her hair away from her face. Her tongue wets her skin, her hand gently wrapping around his cock, her thumb spreading the arousal around his shaft, his breathy moans echoing around her.

Amelie slowly eases over him, hollowing her cheeks and sucking, her tongue swirling around his throbbing tip the way he loves, her hand pumping all that she couldn’t take. Her fingertips squeeze his hip, his arousal and orgasm beginning to taste on her tongue.

“God, this is so much better than me trying to pretend it’s you,” Harry moans, his head rolling onto the pillow as her innocent eyes meet his.

“Oh, baby, you think about me,” Amelie hums, the vibrations making his hips ache and thrust into her mouth.

Harry groans as she takes all of him, his cock hitting her throat and her tongue taking his arousal. “Certainly, don’t think about m’hand.” His orgasm is reaching him quickly, his panting rapid and causing his chest to heave. “Need to be in you, doll.”

Amelie smirks, kissing the inked thigh and laying her lips across his heated skin. Harry squeezes her hips above his waist, making her pause, her breathing shaky as she realises what he’s implying. “Are you sure? Don’t wan’a hurt you.”

“Love, I promise you won’t,” Harry says shakily, moving beneath her and laying his back against the wooden headboard, his lip taken between his teeth as she gently settles on his thighs. “Go slow, I’ve got you.”

Amelie nods nervously, smiling shyly as Harry squeezes her thigh encouragingly. His hands hold her hips, coaxing her forward slightly, his cock hard and throbbing against her heat. He nudges her to lean onto her knees, his skin prickling with bumps as he gently eases into her, her warmth surrounding his shaft and squeezing him in her velvet walls.

Amelie intertwines her fingers with his, her pelvis rolling and grinding, his knees tucked behind her, his hips thrusting to meet her. Her mouth parts with her moans, the friction against the nerves between her thighs making her legs shake. Harry leans forward, his lips sponging kisses along her jaw, suckling a mark on her chest. His hands take her hips, smiling as her arms circle around his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. His thrusts meet a rhythm with the way her hips beginning rotating, a heavy moan leaving his throat as she squeezes him, easing him out inch by inch.

“Want you deeper,” Amelie moans, meeting his mouth with a chaste kiss, his knees parting her thighs, his figure laying over hers.

Harry sinks into her, her warmth soaking him in, squeezing him tightly. He kisses her jaw, her thighs wrapped around his waist, his cock bottoming out and reaching her hit with every thrust. His orgasm is heating in his stomach, sweat sticking the curls to his forehead, her moans in his ear making him want to bust. Her thighs squeeze around his hips, holding him in her, her climax warm and milking around him. His orgasm spills inside her, his panting hot against her neck. His mouth breaks into a smile as her hands take his cheeks and her lips kiss his sweetly, her ankles slowly unlocking around his bum and laying lazily on the bed.

“Good, you’re so good,” Harry hums, gently sliding out and lying beside her. His arm slings over her waist, pulling her into his chest, his cheek laying against her shoulder. “Have you spoken to your mum since you got here?”

“Oh fuck,” Amelie swears, snagging her sweatshirt and tugging it over her torso, pulling her phone out and sending messages to her mother and best friend. “Done.”

“Care to leave the pants off for the evening,” Harry winks, laughing loudly as Amelie rolls her eyes at him. He takes his phone, smirking and beginning to type against his screen, hiding the phone away from her obnoxiously.

Laying her head on his chest, she presses a kiss to the butterfly adorning his abdomen, her cheek resting on her forearms. “What are you doing?”

“Making a list of all the places I want to shag you in.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

“That wasn’t telling me to quit.” Harry grabs her cheeks and kisses her, smirking at the way her lips perfectly adorn his at every angle. “Got to check off Aus, thank you for that.”

Amelie hides her face in her hands, trying to mask the smile that is etched into her features. Only a few weeks ago she was telling him that she couldn’t understand why he stared at her in such a way, and now she can feel herself doing the same. “Have any plans for Valentine’s Day, Mr Styles?”

“Considering m’girlfriend is here,” he hums, carding his fingers through her hair and delicately brushing the stray hairs away from her forehead, her fringe freshly cut and swaying beneath her eyebrows, her lips tinted red with the kisses. “Have a few thoughts in mind.”

“Dirty thoughts, I’m assuming.”

“Could be,” he drawls teasingly, his eyes narrowing at her as she pinches his hip. “Have a show on Valentine’s Day, so could we makeshift tomorrow to be our Valentine’s Day? Have breakfast and an early swim, avoid all the crowds. Only us.” His eyes brighten with her smile. Harry loves seeing Amelie happy. “Can plan something special for dinner, later on.”

“Good thing I brought something nice to wear," Amelie smiles, heaving a sigh as she straddles Harry’s thighs and slips off the bed, giggling at his groans and complaint of her leaving. “Have a dress for tomorrow.”

“Ooh,” Harry hums, following her into the bathroom and leaning against the wall, admiring away she mills about the space, gathering her toiletries and pyjamas for the night. “Haven’t seen you in a dress before.”

“Only on special occasions.”

“Love that you consider me a special occasion,” he says, walking towards her as she turns the water on in the porcelain bath, testing the temperature with her fingers. He wraps his arms around her waist, kissing the sweet spot at the nape of her neck, smirking against her skin as she shivers. “What are you doing?”

“Need a bath, I’m sticky.” Her words spew out without thinking and her eyes roll as soon as she feels Harry’s smirk against her skin. “Harry, don’t you dare say something.”

“Didn’t say a word, doll.” He kisses her shoulder, releasing her from his grasp and walking to the shower, the water sputtering against the glass. “Want to take a shower with me? Warm in there.”

“Having you as a distraction in there? No thank you.”

“And you think I won’t distract you in the bathtub,” Harry scoffs, shaking his head and clicking his tongue, walking to the tub and turning off the faucet, taking her hand in his and smirking as she reluctantly walks with him. “Think very highly of me, love.”

“Hope to have a minute of peace, in here, that’s all,” Amelie moans, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as he kisses her cheek, patting her bum to get into the shower.

“Not gon’a happen,” he chuckles, shutting the door as he steps inside. He smiles widely, taking in the way the water falls over her and her fringe clings to her forehead. They’ve not showered together before, only staying in the bathroom while the other bathed, and there was something intimate about the experience and the way Amelie trusts him enough to do so. “Did you have a nice flight, at least? Layover somewhere, I’m assuming,” he says, taking the shampoo and squirting the liquid into her hand.

“Mhm,” she hums, lathering her hair and soaking in the warmth around them. Harry is the first man she’s ever showered with, and the thought about how much she truly trusted him made her anxiety heighten. Begging her brain to quiet down, she asks the thoughts to leave her alone and have her enjoy the moment. “Slept everywhere I could.”

“Knowing you,” Harry winks, nudging Amelie’s hip and rinsing the soap smoothly, his eyes drifting across her body as her sponge coats her skin with bubbles, “that sounds about right.”

“Brought a bathing suit with me,” Amelie mutters, playfully pushing his chest to move under the water. “Only go to the beach a few times a year so you better take your opportunity to see me in a swimsuit and run with it.”

“Happily.” He kisses her cheek, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist, grabbing a new one for her from the stack near the sink. He admires her as she wraps the cotton around her figure, her hair clinging to her skin, her face slightly flushed from the heat. He tugs her into a hug, smiling as she wraps her arms around him. He’s learnt that she loves the unexpected hugs, the affection that is genuine and means something to the other person. His nose smells her hair, the scent that he could only describe as her lingering in the air. “Ooh, you smell good.”

“Compliment central, over here,” she smirks, kissing his shoulder and squeezing his hips. Amelie presses her lips to his cheeks to compensate for the lack of touch, his lips pouting as she shuffles into the bedroom to grab the sweatshirt and panties from her knapsack, her towel strung around her hair to dry.

“Can’t help a crush, love,” Harry says, yanking a pair of sweatpants up his legs, the waistband low on his hips and displaying the ferns that she loved to trace. “Huge one at that, doll.”

“Hm,” Amelie hums, taking her hairbrush out and beginning to comb through the ends. “You’re staring.”

“Le’ me brush your hair,” he says, coaxing the brush and nodding towards the mattress with messy sheets and a duvet. They couldn’t be bothered to make a mess beneath the comforter, too caught up in the moment. He smiles at her, taking in the way she situates herself between his thighs as he centres himself on the bed. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Okay,” she agrees, tilting her head back and smiling, her heart swelling in her chest as he gently kisses her lips, her nose, her forehead. “Hi.”

“Hi, love.” Harry turns on the television, delicately combing through her wet hair and soaking in the simplicity and intimacy of the moment. He never envisioned himself the kind to desire the moments like these, the ones that were simply him and the one he adores – loves – taking in the silence around them. “You look beautiful.”

“Currently in pyjamas,” Amelie says, shocked in the way that Harry could be so easily impressed by the simplest of things.

“Okay, and,” he says, setting the hairbrush on the bedside table and running his fingers through her hair, smirking as he notices her closed eyes and parted lips. He kisses her cheek, his thumb drawing a line along her jaw. “Don’t nod off when ’m talking to you, you cheeky thing. You’re gon’a kill m’ego."

Amelie squeezes his knee, barely opening her eyes to meet his stare. The way Harry looks at her makes her want to melt. No one has ever looked at her like that. “Your voice is soothing; I like listening to you.”

“Can read to you if you wanted,” Harry offers, moving his arm to have her manoeuvre onto her side, her hair tucked into the hood of the sweatshirt as she shares his pillow. Amelie isn’t a fan of cuddling at night, especially when she’s feeling far away, but she never strays too far. “’m halfway through your book.”

“Are you? How are you feeling about it?” she wonders curiously, her voice quieting as she begins to drift to sleep. “Careful, this is my favourite book you’re about to bash.”

“Like it,” Harry assures her. “Quite fitting with your fucked-up romance theme you go for.” He chuckles quietly as her chest heaves with heavy breaths. “Are you going to fall asleep while I read to you?”

“Most likely,” Amelie murmurs, taking his hand and squeezing it, kissing his palm sweetly before letting go, her hands tucking under her cheek as she snuggles beneath the duvet. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Night, love.”

Harry opens the novel besides the bed, the cracked spine folding beneath his fingertips. He opens to the bookmarked page, smiling as a highlighted quote catches his eye.

“And then she kisses me. It's the kind of kiss that makes me lose track of everything, and so it may take hours or minutes by the time we break apart.”

~

Harry admires the waves crashing ashore, the sun shining brightly in the sky, the golden hue tanning their skin as they lay peacefully and privately on their towels. He found the perfect spot – so he believes – away from the suspecting and invading eye, secluded and private to allow them to simply be alone. Amelie lays beside him, her sunglasses tucked on her nose, her cheek resting on her forearms as she stares at him, taking in the olive tone and tinted tattoos.

“Could you put more sunscreen on me, baby?” Amelie questions, handing him the bottle and smiling as the top clicks open.

“Mhm,” Harry hums, squirting the cream in his hands and beginning to rub it into her skin. His hands go beneath the band, his fingers searching for a clasp to unhook. “Can’t unclasp the top, love.”

“Not meant to,” she smirks, shaking her head and clicking her tongue disapprovingly as his bottom lip juts into a pout. “Know you, Styles. Knew what you were going to do.”

“I am insulted, love.” His voice feigns his innocence, the glimmer in his clearly displaying his true intentions. “How dare you think so lowly of me!”

“Mhm,” Amelie muses, playfully smacking his thigh as his hands travel closer to her bum. “Hands above the waist in public.”

“Have to ruin our makeshift Valentine’s Day, huh.”

“You got laid two hours ago! How am I ruining Valentine’s Day?”

“Wan’a see your boobies,” Harry mutters, gently tugging at the edge of the bathing suit, his lips tucked together to stifle the laughter.

“Harry, boobies, really?” Amelie groans, nudging his hand away from her chest, rotating her head slightly to stare at him. “Are you thirteen?”

“Find that saying, ‘wan’a see your tits’ is quite crude to your girlfriend, so,” he muses, smacking her bum playfully as he stands on his feet, his toes tucked in the sand, his hair shaking out on her freshly coated skin. “Okay, I’m going for a swim. Have fun without me.”

“You’re unbearable,” she grumbles, trying to hide her smirk through a bitten lip, her heart sinking as he begins to walk away. “Wait.”

“Hm,” Harry hums, turning around and walking back to her, leaning down to meet her.

“Kiss?”

“Always,” he smiles, kissing her lightly, her strawberry chapstick lingering on his skin.

She admires him as he treads into the water, the clarity of the water exhibiting the tattoos that marked his skin, the way his eyes reflected through the sun. Her forehead lines with sweat, her body begging to have the relief of the cool water around her. She hesitates though, the idea of showing her body so freely intimidating and making her question her apparel choice. Harry looks perfect in the infamous yellow trunks, the colour bright on his skin and simply great on him.

Her eyes couldn’t leave him.

“Come in here, Ames,” Harry calls, his eyes travelling around the area to make sure attention wasn’t called on them. He didn’t want her to be intimidated by a crowd and the rumours and headlines that were bound to come about. He lowers his voice, his words only travelling to where she could hear. “Water is so lovely.”

“Fine, fine,” Amelie concedes, standing up and beginning to walk towards the water, shaking her head and hiding her face in her hands as he whistles. He would never whistle at a woman; however, it was apparent that her confidence was weary. He would do anything to make her feel like the most confident woman. “Ames, hm.”

“Ames,” he says confidently, taking her hand and bringing her to him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, his hands holding her waist tightly. “You like it?”

“Never had a nickname before,” she mentions, pursing her lips as she traces through her memories and searching for anything that her family or friends might have called her beyond her name. “Only nicknames m’family has given me are honeybee and chéri.”

“Honeybee for the flowers, right?” Harry asks this for confirmation, the way he pays attention to every detail Amelie tells him, butterflies swirling in her belly at the thought. “And the other.”

“Chéri means honey or darling,” Amelie tells him, her accent rhythmic as the words roll off her tongue. “Mom likes using names like that.”

“Cute,” he smiles, kissing her cheek and hugging her tighter to his chest, waves lightly crashing into their backs, barely reaching his hips. “Happy you’re here, doll.”

“Me too.”

Harry presses his lips to Amelie’s, smiling as her arms hug tighter around his shoulders. He is grateful for the privacy, wanting to show her that she deserves to have someone that loves on her around anyone. He is nervous though, he would have to admit; media can be absolutely brutal, and the last thing he would want is to have someone hurt her through a lousy magazine or social media posting. He cherishes the kiss, the easiest affection. He could kiss her for hours.

“You seem to really love it here,” Amelie says, kissing his cheek, her legs quickly moving to her chest as a jellyfish moves past them. Harry gently grabs her thighs, trying to coax her into circling around him completely. “Harry.”

“Hm,” Harry sighs, his thumbs gently rubbing her skin as he awaits her answer – although he is sure he already knows.

“Don’t.” Her voice is quiet as she shakes her in disapproval, her eyes scanning beneath them for the fish, her legs slowly slinking towards the sand. “’m too heavy.”

“Says who?” he wonders, his voice slightly exasperated and confused. He is angry, frustrated with whoever would tell her such a thing, make her believe that there is something about her that would make her not fit enough for affection. “Doll, who said that? They’re wrong.”

“I –” Her voice cracks and Harry knows exactly who’s done this. He would do anything to have a talk with Jack, to really get inside the boy’s head and see how anyone could treat another human this way, especially one that deserves nothing but love.

“Hey, you don’t need to think about that with me.”

Let me love you, please.

“Harry, I’m trusting you,” Amelie breathes, taking a deep breath and releasing the tension in her muscles, allowing Harry to coax her thighs around his waist, his arms tucked under her bum and holding her to him. He kisses her cheek a smile on his lips as she begins to relax.

“Appreciate that more than you know,” Harry says, his lips delicate on her skin. “I’ve got you. Always do.”

In that very moment, Amelie chooses to believe him.

~

Amelie paces around the bedroom, her suitcase strewn across the lounger, her outfit for the evening set out neatly on the made bed. Her anxiety is echoing in her brain, her heart pounding heavily against her ribcage, her jaw tense as she stares at the multiple ignored calls with her sister. Harry is partially undressed, getting ready to shower, leaning uselessly on the mattress. He absolutely hates seeing her this way. He would love to take the stress and negative thoughts away.

He sighs, walking over to her and gently grabbing her shoulders, his hands cupping her cheeks and making her meet his stare, his lips touching her forehead to calm her. “Don’t worry, love,” Harry says softly, trying his best to calm her. “Aren’t Phoebe’s friends coming to the show, tomorrow? Maybe they’re all talking.”

“Guess so,” Amelie sighs, leaning into his chest, his arms embracing her. He taps her spine lightly, nodding to the vibrating phone set on the dresser behind them. “Maybe that’s her.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

Quickly taking her phone, she sighs heavily, sliding her thumb across the screen and waiting to have the video connect to speak. “Hey, Phoebe.”

Hi, Phoebe, Harry whispers, nodding towards the shower and walking into the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind him and turning on the vent, the water sputtering on and hitting the tiles.

“Hey,” Phoebe murmurs, her lips pursed together, her cheek leaning against her fist.

“Are you alright? You’ve been avoiding my calls,” Amelie says, her voice barely above a whisper, the anxiety beginning to overwhelm her.

Phoebe found out. Phoebe found out and now she’s mad at you. You’re the worst sister. She’s going to hate you.

“You’re there, in Melbourne,” Phoebe sighs, blinking slowly and taking a deep breath, trying to gather all of her thoughts and emotions. Phoebe wasn’t mad at Amelie. How could she be? Her sister fell in love, that was obvious. Having a relationship, after everything, is what she deserved. Her lying about it, that’s what upset her. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow.”

“Not sure what you’re getting at.”

“At dinner, on Sunday, you said you were seeing someone.” Her voice is flat, lacking all emotion, her eyes a bare blue, lacking their shine and glimmer that light everyone’s day. That breaks Amelie’s heart. “It’s Harry. You’re seeing Harry Styles.”

“Phoebe,” Amelie begins, quickly quieting as Phoebe opens her mouth to speak. Her intention was to listen, to not upset her any further.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Wanted to tell you, I did,” Amelie says honestly, tears prickling her eyes as she takes in the hurt on her sister’s face. “How did you find out?”

“Cassie is a barista at the café on the private beach,” Phoebe sighs, running her fingers through her hair and shaking her head. “Could see Harry a mile away with those yellow trunks. On the way out, she wanted to see if he was still there, maybe she could say hello or something. There Harry was, standing over a girl, shaking his wet hair out, laughing. Cass took a picture and sent it to me. Whoever she is, Harry looks really happy, is what she told me.”

“Cassie posted it,” Amelie chokes, her anxiety rushing with thoughts that spring tears in her eyes.

Oh my god, everyone is going to find out. Everyone is going to find out and the bullying, the harassing, everything is going to start before you and Harry could even make it to two months together.

“Of course not,” Phoebe assures her, her heart breaking as soon as Amelie begins breathing heavier. “As soon as Cassie texted me the photo, everything made more sense. Mama showed me the picture you sent her of the beach, the hotel. All of it looked the same as the pictures people posted online. Knew it then. I told her that she could not post it.”

“Oh,” Amelie breathes, the sweat on her forehead beginning to dry.

“Hurts me that you didn’t tell me, Amelie. You’re my sister, my best friend. We tell each other everything,” Phoebe sighs,

“Phoebe, I.” Amelie has nothing to say.

“Are you happy?”

Amelie goes absolutely silent, pursing her lips together and lightly nodding her head. Harry steps into the room, a shy smile on his lips as he nods, telling her everything without a word.

“Are you happy? Are you and Harry happy?” Phoebe repeats, desperate to emphasise her meaning. Her sister deserves to be happy, whether she believes so or not. Phoebe could never be upset with her for that.

“I am,” Amelie smiles, genuinely smiling, taking a deep breath. Her honesty surprises her, the way the words are so easy to say shocking her. Happiness, like this, hasn’t been something she believed she could have. “For the first time, I am.”

“Then, I’ll be okay. You and I, we’re okay. I’m not upset.” Phoebe sucks in a breath, budding her courage in her chest. Phoebe never expected this to happen. “Put Harry on the phone.”

“Huh?”

“Tu m'avez entendu, Amelie.”

Harry’s eyes widen at the statement. He gulps, taking a deep breath and walking towards Amelie, nodding approvingly and settling on the bed beside her.

“Um, Phoebe wants to talk to you,” Amelie mutters, giving him the phone and nodding towards the bathroom. “’m gon’a go take a shower.” Grabbing her towel and nervously treading into the en-suite, she shuts the door slightly, barely enough space to hear.

Harry clears his throat, taking a deep breath before beginning. He can see that Phoebe is shaking. “Know that you’re mad at us, and I’m sorry.”

“Not mad,” Phoebe says nervously, her thoughts jumbled and trying to comprehend who is speaking to her on the screen. Never would she have thought that this would be the way she would him. “Just a little upset.”

“Understand if you are mad, because Amelie and I made the decision not to tell anyone, and that included you,” he sighs, scratching his neck nervously. “’m sorry you had to find out by someone else, but you should know that you not speaking to her is making her really upset.”

“Has Amelie gone in the shower yet?”

“Mhm,” Harry nods, unsure where the conversation is heading, accepting it, nonetheless.

“Do you know about Jack?” Phoebe murmurs, her voice growing quieter to ensure that Amelie wouldn’t hear. Upsetting her about him is not what she wants to be doing.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Harry mutters, desperately trying to not become angry. Hearing his name makes Harry furious.

“Amelie thinks I don’t know, and I don’t remember what happened, but I do, and I don’t ever want to see her that upset, that bad, again, okay?”

“Of course.” Harry smiles softly, admiring the way she so openly cares about her sister.

“Know you’re you and all, but that’s my sister. You can’t hurt her, okay?” Her voice is laced desperately, the concern evident in her eyes. Harry would never dream of hurting her, and he has to make sure she knows.

“Phoebe, I promise you, I won’t.”

Amelie’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion as Harry says that, her towel tucked around her hair and her body clothed in simply her panties and lace bra that he loves. Harry pats the bed, encouraging her to come closer to him.

“Not a bribe, but ‘m gon’a need you to tell me the shows you have tickets to,” Harry says, smiling as Amelie settles in the open space that he’s made for her.

“Um, San Diego and Santa Clara,” she stutters, her fingers shaking over her mouth as he hands her sister his phone and she typed in the dates for him.

“Alright. Talk soon,” Harry smirks, squeezing his girlfriend’s thigh and setting her phone in her hand, kissing her cheek, his body moving away from the mattress and taking his phone into the bathroom to busy himself until the call is over.

“Phoebe,” Amelie teases, mouthing a quiet, thank you, as Harry tosses headphones to her to talk, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Don’t be mad.”

“Ugh,” Phoebe sighs, knuckling her eyes and taking a heavy breath. “I’m not mad. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Amelie, you deserve to be happy, even though you think you don’t.”

“Love you, Phoebe.”

“Love you, too,” Phoebe says quietly, turning her light off and settling under her comforter, her eyes beginning to close. “Don’t fuck this up for me, Amelie. Don’t fuck this up for you, either.”

“I’ll try not to, Pheebs, I’ll try.”

~

Harry reserved the most secluded section on the beach. Quiet waves crashing against the sand, twinkling lights around the posts, blankets and stray towels accompanying their picnic to lay on the cushion of the cabana, the sand slightly damp beneath their feet. Amelie can make out the chatter of the crowds in the distance, the sidewalk much too far for them to be seen.

“Like this,” Amelie smiles shyly, taking a bite of her sandwich and taking a swig from the wine settled between herself and Harry. “Quiet and very us. Nothing flashy and extravagant. That’s something I always wanted, y’know – to be happy, simply me and the other person.”

Harry presses a chaste kiss to her lips, his thumb and forefinger holding her chin, nosing her jaw with a kiss and squeezing her hand.

“Harry.”

“Hm.”

“Do you think that the stars align a certain way to make things happen? Don’t know, like, the universe wants something good to happen to someone, so the stars and the planets and moon move a certain way to make it happen,” she wonders, laying her sandwich down and leaning back on her hands, her head turned over her shoulder to look at her boyfriend, his body resting peacefully on the blanket, his head tucked on a folded towel.

“Jovian-Plutonian Effect,” Harry smirks, his eyes shining beneath the moonlight. “Think you’re mine if that counts for anything.”

“One thing I was thinking about the other day –” she begins, her eyes narrowing as his voice cracks to interrupt.

“You think about a lot of things.”

Amelie lightly smacks Harry’s arm, his laughter airy and making her heart swell against her ribcage. Her love for him is growing every day, and there is one moment every so often that makes her want to mutter the words that she swore she would never say to a man, ever again, the words that would break her heart eventually.

But you do love him, Amelie’s heart incessantly reminds her. That is something that happened. You fell in love.

“You and I,” she whispers, trailing her attention from the crashing waves to the moon lingering above them, the light casting above their illuminating skin, “whenever we’re apart, we’re staring at the same moon. It sounds stupid, I know, but there’s something comforting about that. You,” she hesitates, frightened by the words falling so easily from her lips, “you’re one of my closest friends. Don’t know, it’s just nice never feeling that far away.”

“Nothing you say is stupid. Don’t say that,” Harry sterns, gently poking her thigh to have her attention. “Only a phone call away if you need me, love,” he murmurs, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. “Always looking at the same moon.”

“Know that I’ve only known you a month, but I’m proud of you. Not many people would have the courage to go on stage the way you do, travel so many weeks and months away, work the way you do. I admire you, Harry. There are so many people that you inspire, every day. I’m one of them.”

“Gon’a be honest, it’s hard sometimes, and it’s one of the only things that are truly hard. Missing m’family, you. Hope that you’ll come and join tour eventually, see what it’s like. ‘s my dream. ‘s like when your work is in an exhibit, y’know, the one place where everything makes sense. All the adrenaline and the screaming and everyone singing back to you. Nothing like it,” Harry rambles, moving the covered wine aside and kissing your knee sweetly. “Happy to make you proud, doll. You inspire me.”

“Hate being this, soft,” Amelie giggles, squeezing his hand and gently nudging their hands into his thigh. “Not very like us. Usually, you’re bothering me.”

“Don’t like sharing your emotions, I get that,” he sighs, turning over and laying his head on her thigh, smiling softly as she cards her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. “Know that going through all that you did made you feel this way, and I’m sorry that it happened, but I want you to know that you can share things with me.”

Her eyes sting with tears, her lips pouting as Harry wipes a stray from her cheek. “Hate that Phoebe was mad at me. Honestly, it makes my stomach hurt. Didn’t want to hurt her by hiding this, us, you know? I just didn’t know how to tell her. Hard to really understand this all sometimes,” Amelie pauses, trying to find the proper wording to express herself.

Expressing yourself is hard enough on a good day.

“C’mere, baby,” Harry sighs, situating on the blanket and opening his arms, smiling as her body settles on his thighs, her arms tucked around his shoulders, his lips touching light kisses on her shoulder. He barely makes out her mumbled apology, his head moving away from her shoulder to stare. “Amelie, why are you apologising to me? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Crying into you because of my anxiety on a Valentine’s Day date,” Amelie laughs wetly, tears staining her cheeks, her eyes glossy as she stares into his, his thumbs drying her skin. “Hate me.”

Harry’s heart twists in his chest. He absolutely hates that Amelie feels this way. He isn’t quite sure what anxiety entails, the details and intricacies, but knowing that all of her thoughts and emotions are so deeply impacted by it hurts him. He would do anything to take it all away. “Don’t say that.” He nearly wants to mutter the three words they’ve been waiting to say. He hesitates, taking a moment to gather his thoughts back. “All I want is fo’ you to feel okay. You have me, I’m here.”

“Harry Styles.”

Her voice is airy, her hands clasped together around his neck, fingertips twirling the curls at the nape, her thumb tracing the cut of his jaw softly. Her mouth sponges kisses on his cheek, her breath hitching in her throat as his mouth steals her lips, his kiss gentle and lingering on her skin.

Harry knows that Amelie won’t verbally say more, yet the way her arms are tight around his shoulders, her mouth is rhythmic with his, their kiss taking their breath away, his hands squeezing around her torso to have her melt impossibly closer to him, tells him everything. Harry knows that Amelie trusts him, that eventually everything would be said.

All that was needed was time. Harry didn’t mind waiting.

His fingertips work at the buttons on her the dress – floral printed, naturally, his mouth kissing her shoulder as he nudges the jacket away from her torso. His mouth grew dry at the way her breasts accentuated the cut; the straps are sewn with thicker material for support beginning to slip off her shoulders. Her giggles echo in his ear, making his stomach swirl with butterflies and his heart beat so loudly he swears she could hear it.

“Quite possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had, Mr Styles,” Amelie smirks, manoeuvring her body beneath his and tugging the dress away, Harry’s shirt tossed somewhere near the basket, a sheet pulled over their bodies to hide them away, the cabana’s curtains tugged closed, the moonlight peeking through the slight cracks. “Don’t get us caught.”

“Don’t be loud,” Harry chuckles, his teeth nipping her bottom lip, her eyes rolling at his comment. “May or may not have a crush on you.”

“Considering you say that quite a bit, I think you do.” Her mouth moulds against his perfectly, a giggle leaving her lips as he fumbles to work his jeans down his thighs. “That’s what you get for wearing jeans.”

“Quit teasing me.”

“Make it so easy for me, though.”

“Quite lucky the way you flirt with me is endearing, Ames,” Harry teases, laying his jeans along with their clothes and straddling her waist, one knee tucked between her thighs, his forearms around her splayed hair.

“Call this flirting? Oh, this is nothing.”

Harry laughs, shaking his head and laying his lips on hers, soaking in the way she tastes faintly of wine and the swollenness of her flesh, her fingers lacing through his, squeezing his hand for comfort. He adores this, the way he can feel her calming. Harry savours the moment, the way their skin is clammy against each other and her thighs are wrapped around his waist, the way his heart is heavy in his chest because everything feels right.

Harry and Amelie couldn’t have pointed out the planets or the stars or the constellations underneath their makeshift blanket, their attention too obsessive with each other and the way they feel.

Although, Harry could have sworn that this is what it felt like to have Jupiter and Pluto align.

[catboymingi]

beauty and the baker - veninder chap. 10

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: fluff; best friends to lovers

word count: 5.3k

warnings: language

det kræver ik’ en phd / for at du kan fatte det, baby - it doesn’t require a phd / for you to understand it, baby

he’d refused to look at the note until after class, not wanting to upset himself if you’d said no, which he was sure you had, so when he was waiting for you after your class the note was still in the same state as it had been roughly two hours prior, though maybe a little more moist from his sweaty hands clinging on to it.

“you haven’t read it yet?”, you asked him when you left the classroom and saw him standing there a little lost, and he shook his head, staring at the still folded piece of paper as if it was going to bite him like those weird books in harry potter.

“do you want me to tell you my answer?”

he shook his head again, looking at you for another moment before he finally, finally opened the note and forced himself to read the rejection that was inevitably coming.

will you be my flickvän? - mingi

[♡] ja

[♡] extra ja

comments: as if i’d ever say no to you♡

he couldn’t believe it. you’d said yes? genuinely said yes? maybe it shouldn’t surprise him so much because you had quite literally been going on dates for three weeks now if you counted the hair dyeing as the first date, but he still felt the need to make sure.

“really?”, giving you those sweet, hopeful eyes you adored so much.

“yes, really.”

you wanted to grab his hand, so bad, but even though you were dating now, or you guessed you were, you were still shy to grab it first.

“so you’re my girlfriend? or not yet?”

your heart screamed yes, but your embarrassment made it sound more like “if you want?”, unable to just say it straight ahead. he was so cute, but things were scary, being in a relationship was somewhat scaring you, and having to say that you wanted to be in a relationship with him when he might maybe not want to date you anymore (as if he’d possibly changed his mind in the two hours since he asked you) was the scariest part of it all, so you didn’t, left the final decision to him, though your eyes were telling him everything he needed to know. your eyes were telling him the yes your mouth was unable to say, and he broke into the biggest grin, nodding.

“you’re my girlfriend”, as if he was trying to convince himself, and it didn’t even matter that you were standing in the hallway awkwardly staring at each other until one of your old friends, who’d obviously been watching, bumped your shoulder hardly as she walked past and hissed: “let’s see for how long”, something that immediately made panic rise in you.

“this was stupid”, you told mingi, an instinctive reaction because if you pretended you’d never said yes then there was nothing to lose, but instead of trying to argue with you he pulled you against his chest and quietly told you that he wouldn’t let them ruin anything, but that he’d understand if you’d changed your mind now, the sadness with which he said the last part making your heart hurt and you realise that you very much had not changed your mind at all, that you didn’t want him to be sad like that because of you for even a second.

“no. i’m your girlfriend”, mumbled against his shoulder, but he heard you anyway. his hold around you tightened a little, protective, because now he was your boyfriend and if anyone were to hurt you he’d have failed at his duty, something he couldn’t allow to happen, wouldn’t allow to happen.

“can i kiss your head?”, mingi asked quietly so that no one else would hear, because this was your moment, it was personal and he didn’t want anyone else to hear it.

“mhm”, looking up at him because you were a little curious what he was going to do, leaving the forehead kiss he’d intended misdirected to the bridge of your nose, something neither of you minded because now you were smiling at how cute he was and he was smiling because you were smiling.

“can i do that all the time now?”, because he both wanted to be sure you were comfortable and didn’t want it to be awkward if he asked you every couple minutes if he could kiss your cheek, something that might very much happen because you were so beautiful and he wanted to let everyone know that you belonged together, most of all you.

“there’s some limits. you can’t do that in class”, you let him know, and he nodded, though he was pouting and looking absolutely adorable.

“let’s go home so i can do it all the time”, the red-haired giant suggested, moving his hands to let go of you so he could grab one of yours once you got the hint, swinging it back and forth a little as you walked. he was adorable, like a schoolboy, seeming so genuinely happy and excited to be with you.

“i’m still shy”, you told him on the way to the train station, “so please don’t worry that i don’t like you just because i’m shy.”

“that’s okay”, he reassured, “just tell me if i get too much, okay?”

although part of you wanted to say that he’d never be too much you logically knew that, depending on how affectionate he’d be in public, you might get incredibly embarrassed and too shy to keep it up for long, though you would appreciate the same thing in private.

“okay. thank you for being so nice about all of this”, and now it was you who was swinging his hand back and forth with some slight force - just enough to move his hand along with yours as you set the swinging pace, a fast one -, trying to control your nervosity through getting it out physically.

“of course… angel.”

the petname was silent and shy, coming a bit late as if he’d been considering whether or not to say it, but you were glad he did. it was so sweet, and you gave his hand an appreciative squeeze before you stopped, almost at the train station, looking at him to ask where you should go today.

“let’s go to my place? i have news for the boys”, swinging your hand a little more to show you which news he was talking about.

“i have news for the boys, too”, you replied, smiling down at your hands and then up at him. “let’s go.”

if the boys thought mingi had been attached by the hip after the confession that was nothing compared to now; he all but refused to let go of you even for a second, doing so only when it was absolutely necessary and reattaching himself as soon as he could. it was cute and it made you feel appreciated, glad for your giant, dorky boyfriend that seemed determined to make you feel how much you meant to him.

by the way he acted now and by how much he’d worried about whether or not to ask you out and complained to them about being unsure he didn’t even need to say anything when he came into their flat, smiling brightly, looking a little bit like a lovestruck idiot, hand attached to yours as soon as he’d unlocked the door. still, your friends knew it meant a lot to him, so they left him the chance to proudly and happily tell them that he’d finally managed to get over himself and ask you out, left him the chance to update them himself about a change in both of your relationship status.

“hey!”, san was the first to greet you, on the sofa again with yunho and wooyoung, playing a little before they’d eat dinner. the other two quickly said hello as well, not paying much attention because they were determined to win.

seeing that there wasn’t much to be talked about there until they’d finished their round the redhead pulled you further into the flat, joining the other four at the table where they were already eating, pulling you into his lap because having you sit on the chair next to him was way too much distance now that he could call you his.

“what’s for dinner?”, he asked curiously, and then he saw that ramen was for dinner, so he pulled you up with him and into the kitchen while asking what flavour it was so he’d know if you could have some as well.

“it’s vegetarian, i think”, seonghwa told him, listing the potentially non-vegetarian things that might be included, and you were delighted to find that it was vegetarian. you joined the eating boys, talking a little about your days until a certain giant couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, couldn’t even wait for the right timing or the topic moving into that direction naturally, bursting out “we’re dating!” and then looking mortified when all eyes were on him, as if he first now realised what he’d just done. he was cute, though, and you smiled and leaned back against him, head against his shoulder, though you closed your eyes to avoid seeing everyone stare. your hands were on top of his, which were linked in front of your stomach to keep you in place, and you gave them a gentle squeeze, trying to let him know that he didn’t need to be anxious.

“i’m happy for you”, the oldest let you know, and “we’re happy for you”, hongjoong corrected, the other two nodding and smiling, not really having much more to say. they’d already seen it coming, but they were still happy for their two friends, especially because they knew that it was a big deal, for the two of you but you more than mingi.

“you look the part, too”, yunho added, now having joined the other four and mingi and you at the table together with his game mates, as he pointed to the two of you’s matching bright red hair, which you’d redyed last week when you’d been hanging out and a little annoyed at the colour already fading.

after you were done eating you went to your boyfriend’s room, being able to do so without any teasing from the boys - slightly surprising, but they just didn’t want to make your relationship awkward for you right from the start or ever at all -, and he settled on the bed with you, pulling you into his arms as soon as you’d sat down.

“i’ll kiss your cheek now, don’t move”, he let you know because he’d seen enough romcoms with you to know that if you were unlucky he’d try to do so right as you moved your head to look at him, and he knew your first kiss meant a lot to you so he didn’t want to accidentally ruin it. now that he’d warned you he considered himself safe, though, and leaned in to peck your cheek quickly, and then again, and a third time because he couldn’t believe that he’d really gotten this lucky.

“you’re cute”, you informed him because he was, especially right now, and then asked: “done? can i turn my head?”

“for now” was his reply, and you grinned widely because he really seemed to like you and you couldn’t believe that you’d gotten this lucky, either.

“teach me maths”, you then half asked of him, half demanded, because he was quite good at your sociolinguistics now but you knew nothing at all about maths, and he laughed.

“you want me to?”

“yes. i want to know what you spend all your days with. and i have a question.”

the question had come to your mind spontaneously, and maybe it was stupid, but you wanted to ask because if there as anyone that wouldn’t judge your stupid questions you knew it was him, because he’d asked his fair share of stupid questions himself and because he’d never judged you for being stupid or a hopeless romantic before, and your question wasn’t that bad.

“a question? shoot.”

“okay so. technically, couldn’t minus infinity plus one be the opposite of the number plus one?”

“how do you mean?”

“well if plus one is positive and small, and minus infinity is obviously negative and small... wait hold on, i got confused. let me restart.”

he nodded, looking at you intently, curious to see what you’d ask and if he’d be able to answer.

“so, i forgot that zero isn’t actually positive or negative, so that’s why i said minus infinity plus one. but one is actually the smallest possible whole positive number, right? so the opposite of that should either be the biggest possible whole positive number, so infinity except remove all the periodics, or the smallest possible whole negative number, so minus infinity without the periodics. but that’s not the case, is it? is there some kind of maths phenomenon that thinks like this?”

he furrowed his brows, thinking, because technically this wasn’t how maths worked, but he wouldn’t be surprised if some mathematician had come up with an opposites system working the way you’d described it.

“technically, the opposite of the variable x is minus x, so the opposite of one is minus one. so as far as i know, it’s not the case. but i see where you’re coming from, so maybe you can get your very own maths phenomenon named after you”, smiling at you because this was a surprisingly good question for someone that didn’t know any maths, even though it was clear that you didn’t really know how maths worked. but you thought about the things you witnessed around you, and that was how gravity had been discovered, so he definitely wasn’t going to judge your questions even if they were silly, and would bring them up to his professor if he felt like you might be onto something.

“you’re cute when you’re smart”, you said, then smiled. “you really think me going and making shit up on the go could be a maths phenomenon?”

“that’s just how maths works, to be fair”, his cute lopsided grin, and you thought he was so beautiful and you wanted to talk to him about maths forever if it would make him smile like this.

“then maybe if you teach me some more i can be the next einstein, except in maths. einstein was physics, right?”

“right. you’re good”, half serious, half teasing, though you focused more on the teasing part because knowing that einstein was physics wasn’t exactly a genius move.

then it was him who went to look for his study materials, asking you what you’d liked best in school - probability, you told him -, so he tried looking for those first so he could start with something fun.

the rest of the day was spent like that, studying and him refreshing your memory and you leaving him wondering if there was anything you weren’t good at because it took you much less time to get back into maths than it had taken him to get into sociolinguistics, something you excused with the fact that you’d already learned the basics in school while he hadn’t known anything at all, and then he kissed your cheek again and made you a little flustered.

that was how dating him continued, too. you didn’t act all that different from before you were dating, mainly because you’d always been really touchy already, so the only new thing was kisses to your face and a few rare ones to his (when you weren’t alone - there you were slowly building up an ability to kiss his face more, but you were still shy to do it) and a cute petname added every now and then. you still spent a lot of time together, but a lot of time with the boys, too, having another pyjama party the weekend after you’d started dating because they said they had to show mingi that just because he was your boyfriend he couldn’t just steal you from your other friends, and of course neither of you minded - the boys were still your friends, too, and you didn’t want to be the couple that ditched all their friends to be with each other and each other only.

it was during that pyjama party that he got his petname, because you’d been eating and he’d managed to get cracker crumbs all over himself, and he looked cute when he tried to collect them in his shirt, making a little apron with the hem, and moved over to empty them in the trash can. he was adorable, brows furrowed to avoid the crumbs falling all over the floor, and then it was decided, not in a conscious act but because your brain short circuited when it saw him empty the crumbs in the trash but licking some off his fingers because he didn’t want to waste all of them.

“muru, muruni, come back”, because the movie was about to start and you needed your giant teddy bear to protect you, just in case.

“what’d you say?”, he asked because maybe he’d heard something korean, but it didn’t fit too well right now.

“muru? muruni, it’s finnish. it means crumb, muru, and -ni means that you’re my crumb. it’s a nickname for your partner, i’m sorry if it’s weird or… wait, does muru mean something bad in korean?”, anxious since your korean was usually native-level but you didn’t always recognise homophones.

“there’s a similar word, but it’s not a bad one”, hongjoong reassured while mingi came over, sitting down next to you before he pulled you into his lap because that was such an adorable nickname and you were so adorable and you’d called him yours, for the first time you’d said he was yours when it wasn’t about saying he was your boyfriend, where the “my” and the “boyfriend” belonged together because “he’s a boyfriend” or “he’s the boyfriend” wouldn’t work. and he was yours, of course he was, nuzzling his face into your shoulder and humming appreciatively.

“i’m your muruni… or wait, how does this work? how do i say this?”, nose rubbing against your shoulder, side to side as he enjoyed the softness of your shirt.

“muru means crumb, muruni means my crumb, so if you say ‘i’m your muruni’ you’re saying ’i’m your my crumb’, but if you want to say you’re my crumb, not someone else’s, you say ‘i’m murusi’, and when you’re talking to someone else about me it’s ’i’m murunsa’. the ending changes depending on if it’s my, your, or her. hm?”, turning your head a little to catch a look at his wad of red hair because his face was still hidden, wanting to make sure that he understood you and the finnish rules, knew how to use it in case he wanted to.

“so if i say he’s yours i say ‘he’s murusi’? or ‘he’s murunsa’?” wooyoung seemed curious, too, and you smiled.

“if you say murusi, you’re talking to me. if you say murusi while talking to hongjoong, i’m going to have to have a word with him, because this is my boyfriend. then you’d say murunsa.”

“so -ni is my, -si is your, and -sa is her?”, jongho asked, wanting to understand the apparently complicated intricacies of the finnish possessive suffix system.

“-nsa is her, or his, or their. and it’s -n-sa, not just -sa, but yeah”, you explained, and they all smiled as they finally got it, the movie seemingly forgotten about as they tried to remember and asked you for more example words so they could practice, though you sometimes told them to choose a different one because they weren’t actually learning finnish and coming in with noun stems would probably be a little much.

“what about the movie though?”, you finally asked, because they had understood how the suffixes worked and you just wanted to cuddle your boyfriend and relax, as much as you loved talking about your languages.

“let’s watch it”, because what his girlfriend wanted his girlfriend got, and if she wanted to watch a movie mingi would make sure they’d watch a movie. though he didn’t put it on, seeing how he had much more important things to hold, those things being you between his legs and your back leaning against his chest.

the pyjama party was fun, even though the boys did tease you a little about refusing to let each other go unless it was absolutely necessary, but it was loving teasing, glad that things were fine between you, glad that mingi’s dumbass behaviour had at least brought about something good, even though san still made a point to threaten him about breaking your heart because, as the black-haired boy said, “you know i could break your nose if i had to”, a threat mingi didn’t take lightly. he knew how much you’d come to mean to all of them, and it was because of that that he’d gotten the boys to put together and pay for a little more than half of the laptop you still had to replace, and the girl in your class had accepted their payment because her old one had already been somewhat old, so now you no longer had to pay for this. even though none of you should’ve had to pay they’d rather do this than have you worry and potentially get in trouble, and if you really wanted to pay them back it’d be better this way because they wouldn’t pressure you to pay faster than you could afford to. of this they informed you during the pyjama party, your expression one of disbelief.

“but… the money, it’s… that’s so much! you’re joking, right?”

but they weren’t.

“this place belongs to my parents”, seonghwa said, “so rent is really cheap. plus, we’re eight people, so splitting costs up leaves not all too much for all of us. it’s fine, really”, making a dismissive hand motion as you tried to protest.

“you can pay us back when you have it, or in smaller payments, it’s not urgent and you don’t have to at all. it’s mainly so you won’t have to worry about it, so if you can stop worrying now, it’s worth it”, a warm smile and warm words from yeosang, and you sighed, then smiled and nodded. though you felt guilty this did relieve you, and you told them to come into a cuddle pile because they all deserved a tight hug.

“thank you”, first quietly and then repeated again, louder, because it was impossible for them to be quiet when you were giving them a group hug, someone always stepping on someone else’s foot or similar.

“no problem”, mingi told you, close to your ear, pulling you closer to him and almost causing everyone else to stumble because you were still clinging on to everyone.

and that was how the night ended, too, your boyfriend pulling you with him to cuddle while everyone else would watch a horror movie.

//

“muru?”

“hm?”

he was in your bed, half leaning against the wall and playing with your hair, something he loved to do, when you spoke up, though not moving in the slightest.

“i want to take you on a date this time.”

“where?”

of course he’d let you - the thought excited him. he just wanted to know where you’d thought, just so he could be even more excited.

“seoul botanic park. i want to look at the flowers with you and compare you to the big ones.”

he thought the idea was adorable, and you hadn’t been there yet. week five of dates and he hadn’t thought to take you to a botanical garden yet, he thought to himself slightly disappointed, but it was okay because you’d had the idea now so you wouldn’t be missing out on that.

“when?”

“two days? tomorrow is a little soon”, and it was, because you were already in bed, ready to sleep soon, plus it was thursday so you’d be able to spend the entire day there if you wanted to if you went on saturday.

“okay. and after that i want to have a picnic with you again, when we’re home. a living room picnic. deal?”

of course it was a deal, leaving both of you excited, forever excited to get to spend time together.

//

after having asked him on a date the first time you got less shy, grabbing his hand yourself now or kissing his face in public, calling him the sweet name even when people that weren’t your group of friends were around. you even let him feed you now, sometimes, something that made his heart beat faster than it maybe should, because this meant he really was your boyfriend now, and he saw your permission to feed you as a privilege to be appreciated and honoured. as much as you were scared that things would be ruined as much did you adore him, and you’d rather risk things for him than not take any risks but not get to feel as loved and adored as you did now. and things were okay, they were, because he was there to protect you even when your ex-friends did try to make things hard, he only left you alone if he had to when he knew they were around, he stared them down threateningly whenever he was around them and made it known that he was willing to do whatever necessary to keep them from hurting you. he’d not let anyone hurt you, not again.

and it was like this that you made it last for an entire month, a milestone your boyfriend would most definitely celebrate with you because he absolutely adored you, you were always trying your best and trusting each other and working together to both ease more into the thought of having a relationship both of you hoped and wanted to be long-term.

//

it was decided that you would be baking a one month anniversary cake - or would at least attempt it -, an idea mingi had come up with when he realised it had already almost been a month and when he realised how special that must be for you, even more so than for him, and when he decided that that day needed to be honoured in some way, having occupied the kitchen for the entire afternoon because he wanted to bake with you, definitely. so now here you were, with a lot of ingredients and a lot of food colouring and a lot of sprinkles, ready to make a complete mess and ready for this anniversary to be your last because seonghwa might not let both of you survive if you did end up making a mess.

“so we do this…”, your boyfriend started, looking carefully at the recipe before managing to break the egg not inside but outside of the bowl, and that was the start of the mess-making.

by the time you’d produced somewhat of a dough and divided it into several pieces to colour it both of you were covered in flour, little dough pieces, some milk, and whatever else you’d already used in your cake attempt, fingers sticky and greasy because you’d teased each other too much when the dough wasn’t very doughy yet. you thought he looked cute, he thought you looked cute, and both of you were grinning from ear to ear as you let the dough rise (why it had to rise you didn’t know, because usually cake didn’t need to rise, but you just let mingi do whatever he decided was in the recipe, not yet realising that somewhen along the way he’d clicked on the next one and that whatever steps would follow the dough preparation were those for bread).

“you look like a chef”, you teased him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, something you were still working on getting a little less shy about.

“you don’t”, he teased back, showing you a strand of once-red hair that was now a dusty pink colour because it was covered in flour.

“this just means i get really invested in anything i do”, sticking your tongue out at him, and he made a biting motion, as if he was going to bite your tongue if you did that again.

“you’re a tease.”

“are you complaining?”

you weren’t, not at all, so you shook your head and grinned at him. you thought he was perfect, even when he was being silly and annoying. and he thought you were perfect, too, even with half a cake on your face. both of you were absolutely in love with each other, and it was because of that that the giant dork decided that he’d try again, that he’d ask you if he could kiss you again, because you looked so beautiful and so happy and he was so happy and he’d be the happiest man alive if you’d let him.

“i want to kiss you now. can i kiss you now?”, shy and sweet and your heart was in your throat because you wanted him to, you really did, and you’d let him, now and always.

but you were shy, too, so you didn’t say anything and nodded instead. it was enough for him, though, knowing that you were okay with it, so he stepped a little closer, smiling at you so sweetly before he leaned down, grabbing your face to bring it to his and tilt your head to avoid an awkward nose-bumping incident, and then his lips were on yours, tasting like flour and the sugar sprinkles he’d snacked on and a doughy, floury hand was moving into your hair - you’d have to wash it later, but he’d do that for you, of course he would -, the weird mixture of ingredients that didn’t yet deserve the name dough and that you’d put on the tip of his nose now being smeared on the skin right next to your nose where his nose brushed against you, and your hands wrapped around his neck to keep him at your height and because you didn’t know what else to do. it was wonderful, it was cute, his lips were soft and powdery and moving carefully because he knew you had no idea what to do and he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

you had no idea how long you stayed there like this - neither of you were out of breath when he broke the kiss, so it couldn’t have been that long -, but it felt simultaneously like years and milliseconds. you wanted him to kiss you again, and again, a single kiss enough to have you feel addicted to the way his lips felt against yours, but he seemed insecure, scared you hadn’t liked it or already regretted it, as he always was when he got another first from you.

“you’re sweet”, he told you, not wanting to ruin the moment if he brought up his doubts now, instead opting to get some kind of reassurance through his next question.

“can i do it again?”, and you nodded, because of course he could, whenever he wanted to.

“okay”, leaning down again and relaxing when he felt you smile against him because you were so happy, pulling you a little closer and toying with your hair, his hand buried in the red curls above your neck, making a combing motion without actually trying to do it because he knew that would hurt you and ruin the moment.

“you’re beautiful” was his compliment after he broke the second kiss, and you couldn’t say anything, could just smile up at him, happier than you remembered ever being before.

you couldn’t have wished for a better person to be your first kiss.

[cassiopeiassky]

When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 54

Hey look at me go, it hasn’t even been a month since my last update (yes, my bar is that low)! Hey I hope you are all doing alright.  These are scary times, remember to do your best to take care of you, I know it isn’t easy.  Be as kind as you can to yourself - you deserve it.

So this part is dedicated to @iwillbeinmynest - happy late birthday, my darling Kate!  I hope it’s worth the wait <3

This part is also dedicated to the great Stan Lee.  The world he created gave me a safe place to escape to when my own world was too dark to survive.  I owe him so much, and this chapter is so unworthy but it’s all I’ve got.  I can only hope that he’d get a kick out of his cameo. 

Plot:  When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.

This will eventually be a is a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.  

Word count: 4891 

Warnings:

For the entire work:  Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst.  This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut.  If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: Feels and emotions. Therapy, mentions of trauma.  They’re dealing with the aftermath now, so there are parts that are kinda heavy.  

***I do not own any of the lyrics/music in this story, so please don’t sue me for using them***

Tags moved to the end.

WEMtbB Masterlist

Previously on WEMtbB:

“Look, I think it’s safe to say that we all know you can take care of yourself.  You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”  The covers slide down, showing his torso as he sits up to face you.  “That said, I’d like to remind you about a certain conversation we had at home about us taking care of each other.  I know I didn’t specifically include my team at the time, but they’re your team now, too. They’re your family.  You know this.  It’s okay to let us take care of you – shit, Sweetheart, you take care of us all the time.”

“Okay, but cooking dinner for everyone isn’t the same thing as a credit card.”

“Doll, you don’t want to eat Stark’s cooking.  Please, I beg you, let him reciprocate with American Express.  You can’t get food poisoning that way.”  The look in his blue eyes would be comical if he didn’t seem quite so serious.

You’re still uneasy about having access to someone else’s money, but you reluctantly concede.  They are family – Thanksgiving and Christmas should have already proven that to you, even before they did what they did to save you. Still…pride, independence, and your improved but still deeply embedded insecurities are trying to make their insidious whispers into roars.  “It’s weird,” you finally mutter as you fiddle with one of your stuffie’s satin lined ears.

He snorts and nods.  “I got a metal arm and Stevie and I both have three digits to our age, Banner goes from mild mannered doctor to a big green rage monster when necessary, Stark flies around the world in glorified soda can, and I haven’t even introduced you to the witch, the god, the floating red guy, and the…I don’t know, whatever the hell Loki is.  Trust me, Stark giving you a credit card so you have a little bit of freedom while you’re here is the least weird thing about this situation.”

Well, when he puts it that way…

“Why is it so loud?” Bucky watches as you pace in front of the expansive bedroom window, phone at your ear.  The ringing is practically echoing, it’s distracting and –

“Breathe for me, Sweetheart.”  Steady hands grip your shoulders, interrupt your restless movement, and kinda sorta help to ground you.

Shit.  Your heart is hammering almost as loud as –

“Hello?” Familiar.  Hopeful.  Safe. You should reply, tell her that it’s you, but you’re too busy hanging on to the sound of her voice.  “Hello?  Hello?!” Annoyed.  Indignant.  Already ready to hang up.

Your lips finally allow a smile at the sound.  Seriously, your mom has the patience of a 2-year-old on a sugar high.  It’s good to know at least this hasn’t changed.  

Right then and there, you promise yourself to never again take her phone calls for granted.  “Hi, Mom.”

Silence.  Then tears, followed by questions, answers, questions, answers. You weren’t sure you’d ever hear her voice again, so she has to occasionally repeat things because you were so focused on the sound of her talking – you had to repeat several times too, and you’re sure for the same reason.  Yes, you’re safe.  Yes, you’re sure.  Yes, the boys are doing well, and they miss you like crazy.  Yes, your mom followed the instructions of the team and kept things quiet.  No, she wasn’t happy about it.  Yes, Wanda and Vision are still there – they are going to help your mom with the transition of your return and letting the rest of the family know what happened.  Yes, the boys finally settled into a routine and their sleep schedule is back to somewhat normal.  Yes, you were shot in the leg but you’re healing well.  Yes, you should be home soon.  Yes, you’ll give her the details later.  Yes, you really are safe.  Really.

Loud giggles and doors slamming break through the stream of conversation and your heart moves back up to your throat.  It feels life forever since their voices graced your ears and you can’t wait to see what they have to say.  But you’re not ready.  What if -

Tears and a smile are in your mom’s voice.  “Grandpa and the boys just got back from the coffee shop – he was showing them off to the other old hens again.  Do you want to talk to them?”

Mouth suddenly dry, you nod, but that doesn’t do any good.  She can’t see you because you’d decided to call rather than use video chat; although much better than it was, your skin is still healing and you don’t have any make up yet to hide the fading bruises.

“Honey?”

“Yeah, Mom.  Put them on, please.”  Bucky leads you to sit at the edge of the bed before climbing up behind you to rub your shoulders.

“Breathe, Sweetheart.” Bucky’s steady presence is a lifeline. The gentle admonition brings you back – breathe in, breathe out.  Almost giggle when you hear your mom swear and fumble with putting the phone on speakerphone; there’s a good possibility the boys have learned some new language.

“MommaMommaMomma!!”

As quietly as you can, you choke down the sob that is steadily working its way out.  God you’d missed Jimmy’s voice.

“Hi, baby.  I love you so much.”  It’s all you can manage just now.

“I love you, Momma!  I miss you.  Come home now!”  in your mind’s eye you can see his dimples, how he’s trying to cradle the phone to his ear because he doesn’t quite get the idea of speakerphone, how he’s probably jumping up and down.  His words are clearer than they were when you left…how much has he grown?  How much did you miss?

“Have you been having fun with Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Yep!  We went with Grandpa.  We got donuts!  And uncle Jerry was there!  He gave us a toy.  Come home now, Momma.  I want to show you something!”

Every bit of your focus goes to listening to your son, to his words and trying to decipher just how much he’s changed in the weeks you’ve been apart.  He clearly had an explosion in his language development and it kills you that you missed it.  “I’m working on it, baby.  I’ll be home soon.”

“Bucky?  Bucky, too?”

That brings a smile to your face – you should have known.  “Yes, Bucky, too.”

Your mom breaks in, sounding more than a little concerned.  “Are you sure you’re really safe?”

“Yeah, I am.  I promise.”  You’ll tell her a million times if you need to.  

“So then why is he coming home with you?  Why do you still need the protection?”

Oh, shit.  Right.  She doesn’t know.  This conversation should probably happen in person.  “Um…I’ll explain later.  But I promise, everything is fine.  Hey, can you put Artie on the phone?”

“Honey, he, um,” in the background you can just barely make out the sound of your dad trying to convince Artie to come out of the bathroom, “he’s –“ an ungodly screech pierces the air, “he’s just –“

“He’s mad.  He doesn’t want to talk to me.”  Damn.  It hurts just as much as you thought it would.  “It’s okay, Mom.”  It’s not. Not at all.  “I’ll try again later.”  That’s the truth, at least.

“He just needs a little time.  He took it really hard when you had to go.  Well, they both did, but Artie especially.  I couldn’t convince him that you were trying to come back.”  She knows what happened, at least the broad outline of it; there’s no judgement in her voice.  “He, uh, he thought –“

Might as well just say it and spare your mom the discomfort.  “That I left just like his daddy.”

There’s a long pause before she finally answers.  “Yeah.”

What can you even say to that?  You certainly don’t blame him – you’d had that very thought yourself.

Jimmy’s earnest little voice breaks in, “Momma, Artie loves you.  He’s bein’ a butt right now.  But he loves you.”  He’s a perceptive little man; it’s good to know that’s still the same.  A sob and a chuckle mix ungracefully, but that’s okay. And since when did Jimmy start calling people ‘butts?’

“Thank you, baby.  Um, Mom?”

Her sheepish voice comes across just a second later.  “Sorry, honey.  He probably got that from me.”

A laugh, small but genuine, comes out.  “That’s okay. I learned all my best phrases from you, so I guess we’ll just call it the family legacy.”  Deep breath in.  Out.  “Hey, I should get going.  I need to get my leg checked out before I meet with the person coordinating my mental health recovery care.”

“I – okay, honey.  I love you so much, and I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“I love you, too, Mom. Jimmy?”

“I love you, Momma!  I don’t want you to go.  Come back.  Please?” His cheerful excitement is replaced with an almost palpable desperation, and just like that, your heart breaks all over again.  

“Yes, baby, I’m coming home soon.  I’ll call you later today, okay?”

“Promise?”  He sounds suspicious but hopeful.

“Yes, I promise.”

“Okay.”  Jimmy sounds resigned, and you can hear your mom prompting him in the background.  “Love you, Momma.”

“I love you, too, Jimmy. So much.”

“Later today?  Before bed?  You will call?”

“Yes, Jimmy.  I promise.”

“Okay bye!”

There’s just a bit of silence before your mom’s voice comes back.  “He’s going to be okay, honey.  They both will.”

You can only hope.  Swallowing hard, you continue, “Hey, can you please put the phone by wherever Artie can hear me?”

“Yes…here you go.”

“Artie?  Baby?”  There’s no response, but you knew there wouldn’t be.  “Artie, I love you so much.  I’m so sorry that I had to leave, but I promise I’m coming back.  Okay?  I love you so, so much.  It’s okay that you’re mad.  I understand. I will call later today, and if you feel like talking, I’ll be here to listen, okay?”  Still no answer.  You will never know how you managed to keep the devastation out of your voice.  “Okay.  It’s okay. I love you, baby.”

Footsteps, and then, “He loves you, too.  He does.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you.  “I know, Mom.”

“It’s just going to take some time.”

“I know.”  You hope, anyway.

“You’ll call later?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Alright honey, you take care of yourself and get better, okay?  We all miss you.”

“I know.  I miss you, too.  I miss you so much.”  You stop to clear the thickness out of your throat, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

It’s too hard to say goodbye, so instead you just end the call and put the phone down.  Time to get ready for the rest of the day.

* * *

“Do not hold your breath, dear one.  Breathe through the movement,” Galina coaches gently as she guides you through some strength exercises.  

You’ve already been at this for 45 minutes, and you still can’t get over the fact that your leg doesn’t hurt like you think it should.  There’s a deep, almost bone shaking ache to it now that you’ve been pushing yourself a bit, but it certainly isn’t what you would have expected from a recovering bullet wound.

“Good,” she watches with an eagle eye as you correct your breathing, “very good.”

“This is weird.  I’m not complaining, but my brain just seems to not want to accept that my leg is better than it thinks it should be.”

She laughs a little as she taps some notes into her tablet.  “I suppose it makes sense that there is a bit of dissonance between your brain and body; most patients with this type of injury would still be recovering in the surgical ward. You are very lucky to have received Dr. Cho’s patch.  I have seen injuries like yours that have resulted in a lifelong limp, and that was with good care and a qualified physical therapist.”

It hurts your heart to think of the things she’s seen – legs with a permanent limp seem like the least of the potential horrors.  You finish your reps, then rise to stand next to her.  “Thank you for taking care of me, Galina.  I really do appreciate it.”

Her hand reaches to cup your cheek, “Dear one, it is my pleasure.  Thank you for allowing me.  It cannot be easy given everything you have been through.”

It baffles you how she can be so concerned about you – she’s lost everyone she loved most, and it makes you wonder how she can keep going, how she can even smile.  Throwing any sense of formality to the wayside, you pull Galina into an impromptu hug.  It’s easy to see she doesn’t mind.  You’re far from the only person in this building that is in the process of healing.

When she pulls away, you’d swear there are tears in her eyes but you don’t get the opportunity to ask before she starts speaking.  “Would you like to join me for some coffee?  Or do you need some rest before you meet with Dr. Lee?”

“I’d actually love some company – and the caffeine is a bonus.  Bucky said he’d probably be at least 2 hours with his therapist, and I’m trying not to sleep during the day so I can get back to a normal sleep schedule.”

“Mmm,” Galina nods drily, “Jetlag is a heartless bitch, yes?”

You burst out laughing at her comment.  It feels good.  “It is. It really is.”

* * *

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous, Buck.  It isn’t like I’ve never seen a therapist before.”  The two of you are standing outside the room serving as an office for Dr. Lee, and there’s a heavy dread hanging over you at the prospect of walking through that door.  “I mean, for fuck’s sake, I want to be one.  What is my problem?”

Bucky rubs your back as he holds you close.  “Do you want me to stay with you?”

The deep breath you take fills your lungs with his comforting smell, grounding you.  “Mmm,” your voice is muffled from having your face smushed into his shirt, “that’s actually really tempting.”  The breath is released in a somewhat defeated sigh, “But I need to do this on my own.  I, um, I also don’t want you to have to relive my experience.”  You can feel that he’s about to protest, so you quickly continue, “I know you’d go – and I thank you for it – but I don’t know that I can be completely open and honest with my therapist if you were there because I’d want to protect you from hearing it.”  Shrugging as you take a step back, you meet his troubled eyes, “I know you know what happened.  But that doesn’t mean I want you to hear me say it.  And yes,” you cut him off before he can interrupt, “we will talk about it. In time.  It’s not that I’m trying to keep anything from you because I’m not. I just –“

“It’s different when you’re talking to a therapist.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, relieved that he understands.  “It’s different.”

A hug and a kiss and five minutes later find you sitting across from an older gentleman with thick 70s style glasses.  His kindly smile flashes beneath a thick, grey mustache as he rolls up the sleeves of his sweater.

You feel like you need to say something to fill the silence.  “Um, thank you for meeting with me, Dr. Lee.”

“Oh,” his smile is meant to put you at ease, and it does, somewhat.  “No need to be formal.  Please, call me Stan.”

Nodding, you swallow hard.

He begins with explaining how this will work – he’s having this meeting with you in order to pair you with a suitable therapist from his team, who then will fly in later today to begin working with you tomorrow.  Stan and his partner will remain onsite with you and Bucky as long as you are in New York, and will then do remote sessions for as long as needed.  He’s happy to work with you if for whatever reason your therapist doesn’t work out, although he prefers under normal circumstances not to work with both halves of a couple.  This doesn’t faze you – it’s pretty standard practice.  

Next are the inventories – of course you score astronomically high on the anxiety inventory and moderately high on the PTSD inventory, but surprisingly low on the depression inventory.  By the time you’re finished discussing them and your one month, three month, and six month goals, you’re fairly comfortable with Stan.  He’s nice and gives off a sort of wise, grandfatherly type vibe.  You can see why Bucky thinks so highly of him.

Then it gets ugly, but you knew it would.  In broad strokes you begin telling him of your experience.  Every now and then he asks for more details or clarification, but for the most part he just listens and makes occasional notes.  

Starting at the beginning brings some happy memories, once you get past the whole watching someone die and then having someone shoot at you part.  Yeah, saying goodbye to your mom was hard, but you still had hope that you’d see her again someday.  Then there was getting to know Bucky and the team.  Did you expect to find a best friend and fall in love with him?  Did you expect that this group of extraordinary individuals – people that you found intimidating and at first wrongly assumed you’d have absolutely nothing in common with – would become family?  God, no.  But you did, and they did.  There was fear and uncertainty, but there was also joy, acceptance, and love.  At the safehouse, in the most unexpected way, you found healing and a deep peace you’d never known before.

But then you recount falling sick from Metzger’s poison and the indescribable pain of leaving your kids…and Bucky.  As you describe Anatoliy and Nikolai Krakken – their threats, their causal cruelty, their laughter – you break into a cold sweat.  Nausea comes in waves with mentioning Grigory and Alric Metzger, and you’re almost drowning again in helpless desperation when you remember how they read Bucky’s second set of trigger words and the things they made him do.  You mostly stay away from the complicated confusion regarding Bucky’s part in your rescue; at this point you know you love him and that you harbor no resentment – you meant it when you said there was nothing to forgive – so the rest of the feelings that you can’t quite figure out can wait.  

You tell Stan of being locked in that godawful room for days on end under endless threats of harm, and the waiting.  God, the waiting – waiting to see what they would make Bucky do next, waiting to see if he did it, waiting to see when they would finally follow through with their terrible implications.  Then of course there were the little ways they would humiliate you, the dehumanizing way they refused to let anyone use your name, the misery of the formal dinners they forced you to attend…and…and the…the uh…    

Mikhail.

Stan keeps telling you that you’re okay, that you’re safe.  You know this is true on some level, but you sure as hell can’t feel it without –

“Bucky,” you finally gasp, and Stan acquiesces immediately.

Bucky must have been just down the hall, because his arms are around you within a minute of Stan’s call. It’s strange, you think, that the tighter he squeezes the easier it is for you to breathe.

When the room finally feels like it has enough air for the three of you, you continue, “I’m sorry, Stan. I didn’t expect to be quite this fragile.”

Even though you’re looking down into your lap, you can feel two sets of eyes boring into your skull.

Stan clears his throat. “You said you were going to school? You want to be a therapist?”

You nod first, then answer almost absentmindedly, “Uh huh.”

“Mmm.  Would you expect one of your clients to apologize for their emotional reaction while describing their trauma?”  As pointed as his question is, Stan’s voice is gentle.

He’s not going to let you not reply, so you give him the obvious answer.  “No.  Of course not.”

“So do you think it’s reasonable for you to expect yourself to not be, as you put it, fragile?”

“Um…”  You can practically feel Bucky daring you to deflect. “No.”

When you finally look up, Stan is nodding.  “Right. Cut yourself some slack.  Don’t hold yourself to expectations that you wouldn’t expect others to meet.”

He’s right.  You know he’s right.  “Easier said than done.”

“But not impossible,” he winks.  “You and Bucky are remarkably similar in this aspect.  With you, you’ve got extremely high expectations for yourself.  With him, it’s –“ Stan looks to Bucky, “May I discuss your progress a bit?”

“I already said you could,” Bucky smiles, then takes out his phone when it buzzes.  His features twist into something unfamiliar, but only for a second.  Turning to you, he apologetically shows you the screen.  “Nat’s here.”  His voice is tight; he tries to hide it but you know him too well.  “She got impatient and wants to take you shopping this afternoon.  What would you like me to tell her?”

“If I may,” Stan looks to you both, “I would recommend that you go shopping.  Today.”  His face is stern as he looks to Bucky.  “With Nat. And only Nat.”

Bucky manages to look both nauseous and sheepish as you glance between the two.

His phone buzzes again as you bite your lip.  “Um, I’ll go.”  You can’t say that you feel great about it; in fact, the idea of being separated from Bucky is mildly terrifying, but that’s kind of Stan’s point.  

“Good.  Bucky, go ahead and meet Nat while I finish up here. Have lunch together, and when they go shopping, you come here for your next session.”

Bucky nods but looks to you before moving.

“I’ll be okay, Buck.” Surprisingly, this feels like the truth. “Go ahead, I’ll join you when I’m done.”

“Alright.”  Bucky hesitantly gets up, but stoops to press a kiss against your forehead.  “I’ll see you soon.”  He clearly doesn’t want to go, but his respect for you eventually wins.

It’s quiet while he exits, but then Stan allows himself an almost satisfied smile.  “You know, Bucky doesn’t give himself enough credit.  I’m not sure if it’s the serum – if it also helps strengthen the mind as well as the body – but when he allows himself to be, he’s one of the most mentally and emotionally healthy people I’ve ever met, and I don’t just mean in spite of his trauma.  He knows what to do, he knows how to communicate, which is especially important.  The problem is, he sometimes gets in his own way.  Kind of like you and your unrealistically high expectations for yourself. I think for a long time it was a way to punish himself, almost a self-sabotage.  He’d learned to deal with the trauma but not so much the guilt.  He felt guilty not only about what he’d done while under HYDRA control, but also for falling victim to the torture in the first place – something he recognized no one else could have survived much less ignored, but he still wouldn’t even consider forgiveness for himself.  He felt guilty because he thought he should have been strong enough to withstand it.  Normally the guilt and trauma would go hand in hand, and dealing with one would deal with the other, but not in Bucky’s case.  He’d managed to separate them and not allowing himself to deal with the guilt was holding him back.”  Stan picks up a pen and starts tapping it against his chin, “He always wanted to get better, to be better.  He just couldn’t always convince himself that he deserved it.  You, though, you were – and are – his motivation to stop punishing himself and let go of the guilt.  Seeing and working with him today,” Stan shakes his head, “in spite of his new trauma, the improvement I see in him is incredible.  He wants to get better, but more importantly, he’s allowing himself to get better.  He’s stepping out of his way.”  Stan narrows his eyes at you, “Just like you need to do.  And that’s only going to happen if you cut yourself some slack. Perfection is an illusion and it has no place in healing.”

“I know,” you exhale heavily.

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” you admit, “I do.” Your being hard on yourself isn’t exactly a secret, even to you.

“So what would you tell me if our positions were switched?”

You sort of hate the way he’s going about this, but at the same time you have to admit it’s effective. “I’d tell you that all of your reactions are perfectly normal and that your emotions are valid.  I’d tell you to remember that progress isn’t linear, and that having a bad day, week, or even month doesn’t mean progress isn’t being made. I’d let you know that being with a therapist is a very specific type of vulnerability, and that it’s okay to feel and express those emotions.”

“And?”

“It’s okay to need help. And other people.”

Stan leans back in his chair, seemingly satisfied.  Smug bastard. “Good.  Well, I think I’ve got a good grasp on your particular needs, so I’ll have one of my colleagues, Dr. Patrice Cortez, fly in tonight.  I think she’ll be a great match for you – we graduated in the same class and have been working together ever since, but she specializes in women’s trauma.  I will still be available to you, of course, but as long as you are comfortable with her when you meet her tomorrow, she’ll be your primary therapist.”

“Okay.”  Genuinely grateful, you smile.  “Thank you very much.”  Suddenly exhausted, it takes a monumental effort to begin to rise.

“One more thing.”  He waits until you sit back into the couch. “And this is something I’ve addressed with Bucky, but since you’re here I’d like to mention it to you, too.”

“Okay.”

Stan looks up at the ceiling like he’s physically searching for the right words, “Your relationship is nothing short of extraordinary.”

Oh boy, here it comes. You know it’s coming from your mom, but you didn’t quite expect it here.  Well, maybe you did.  A little. “Are you going to tell me that it’s superficial and based on stressful circumstances, and that it won’t last in the real world?” You’d bristle if you had the energy, but as it is it just comes out flat.  

“What?  No, God no,” he speaks quickly, “Although that does happen. And I’d say that a majority of bonds that are formed under such stress don’t survive because they’re based on necessity, and once the necessity is gone, so is the bond.  I don’t think that’s the case with you and Bucky, though. It’s fairly obvious that you were friends first, and that your relationship is built on that.  Unusual circumstances threw you together, but the friendship grew organically, if quickly.”

You relax, just a bit. It’s been on your mind; not that you doubt your feelings – or Bucky’s – but you do know how it looks.  And just like the first night the team found out, your relationship with Bucky is something you’re prepared to defend.

“The thing I wanted to mention is the danger of co-dependency.”

Ah.  That makes sense.

“You two have been through a lot.  A lot. And it’s good and important that you can lean on one another, inspire and encourage each other, and grow together. But it’s also important that you grow on your own.  You are two individuals sharing a life.  If you can’t thrive separately, then in trying to thrive together you will choke each other out.”

You nod – he’s not wrong.

“Did Bucky mention that he is having a difficult time with the idea of you going shopping with Nat?”

You think for a moment. “No, but I guess I assumed it wouldn’t even happen until tomorrow, so we really haven’t talked about it at all.”

“He is.  He’s struggling with the idea of you being without his protection, even though you are certainly more than safe with Nat. Bucky is almost paralyzed with fear that he will lose you.  And I can see that the idea bothers you as well.”

“Yeah,” you admit.  “Even though everyone seems to agree that the threat is over, it’s still scary.”

“It is.  It absolutely is.  But is it healthy for either of you to live in that fear?”

Exhaling deeply, you answer honestly.  “No.  It isn’t.”

“Right.  Although it is certainly understandable, it isn’t healthy. Now, I’m not suggesting that you two separate.  Quite the contrary, actually.  It’s just something to be cognizant of, something to keep in mind as you start the healing process.  Push your boundaries early and often, and I think you’ll surprise yourself.  You are both incredibly resilient people.”

“I, um, I do worry that I’ll get too needy, if I’m not already.  And then sometimes I worry that I’ll push him away.”

“And he worries that he’ll suffocate you with his desire to see you safe.  It’s why he asked me today to make sure I have a session planned with him when you go out, although I think he also expected it would be tomorrow.”

Another deep exhale.  

“The therapy program we’re putting together for you two is pretty intense.  But for what it’s worth, I think you’re both on the right track. Just make sure you allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling – but be careful of focusing too much on the bad because your anxiety can and will manipulate your perceptions.  Remember that it’s okay to feel contradicting emotions, and trust yourself.  Rest in each other and support each other, but don’t depend on each other for healing. That’s something you need to do on your own.  Perhaps together in parallel fashion, but still individually.”

“Hearing this is oddly comforting,” you admit.

“Based on what I’ve seen, I think it’s because it’s stuff you already know.  I also suspect that it was perhaps how you two operated before you were taken, but after what you went through you just need to feel like you have permission to put it back into practice.”

Why does everything make so much sense when Stan says it?  “You know, I think you’re right.  I – I don’t think I’ve ever worked with a therapist like you, either through school or personally.  You’re very effective.”

He smiles broadly, “Well, being on the team serving the Avengers is fairly unconventional, and sometimes we have to modify programs in unusual ways to fit our clients’ unique needs. Which is what any good practitioner should do, really.”  He shrugs, “But rest assured that our methods are grounded in evidence-based practice, and that my entire team is held to the strictest standards regarding ethics and client outcomes.”  Stan leans forward, eyes sparkling, “And we have very good outcomes.  It’s going to take some work, but you, my dear, are going to be just fine.  And so is Bucky.”

You find yourself nodding. You believe him.

@hellomissmabel @howdoesoneadult  @nykitass @danimuhle @iwillbeinmynest  @shifutheshihtzu @passiononfire  @learisa @widowvinter  @kaaatniss @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @denialanderror  @k-nighttt @givemethatgold @manders2487 @afangirlrambles @polkadottedpillowcase @bluebrrn @saysay125  @aikibriarrose @saharzek @mmauricee @imhereforbvcky  @whenallsaidanddone @supernatural508  @scarlettsoldier  @natalie-nightcourt  @im-beautifully-sewn  @lovemarvelousfics  @feistytravel  @tbetz0341  @nearly-whitches  @jamie-leah  @shliic  @dessinemoiunehistoire  @lucywinchester2000  @solarbarnes  @a-proper-chicken  @movingonto-betterthings @seekingkairos    @part-time-patronus  @natashasnight   @fairislesheets @beccaanne814 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub  @scottish-pepper

[foyetsnewhitlist]

Perfect- Chapter 6

masterlist | ch. 5 | ch. 7

Word Count: 1,580 words

POV: There's more to Jordan Sawyer then Reid or Garcia know but you can’t fill them in.

(This chapter is in Hotch’s perspective)

“Knock knock!” I hear (y/n) say in a sing-song voice.

“Come in,” I say.

“Do you have a minute? I have something I would like to talk to you about, it’s quite urgent.” They tell me, slipping into a chair.

“Yes of course. Have a seat and fill me in.”

“When I joined the team, I wasn’t completely honest. In the past, I was forced to do some.. pretty terrible things. However, I can assure you that I have hidden all evidence and turned my life around.” They say. At these words, my face remains neutral, although I am shocked on the inside.

“What kinds of things?” I ask cautiously.

“Oh, um, nothing serious, I just- I…” I stopped paying attention while they began to explain the things they’ve done. What they don’t know is that I know the truth about them. I know their true identity is Jordan Sawyer and who Jordan's parents are as well as where they live. I made special requests to get Jordan into the BAU, although they didn’t get a single question right on the test. They studied Creative Writing in college for crying out loud. Did they think I was that dumb? What Jordan doesn’t know is that they were added to the team as a way to investigate them. No one else on the team knows and it must stay that way until I get some intel worthy enough of-

“Sir?” Jordan says politely while interrupting my train of thought.

“Yes, sorry, I was just taking in all of this information.”

“So, you aren’t mad that I stole something from the mall when I was a teenager and had minor charges on my record?”

“No of course not. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

“Of course sir. It had been weighing down on me since I started. I was just too intimidated by you to speak up immediately. I wanted to be the first to tell you because I overheard Reid and Garcia talking about doing a deep dive into my past. I don’t think they like me, and they sure don’t trust me. Again I am so-” there's a sudden rap on my door three times, waiting to be invited in. “Come in.” I finally say, meeting Reid’s eye from inside my office.

“Hotch we have something important to tell you!“ Garcia and Reid blurt out in unison.

“We were just talking about you guys.” The door opens to reveal Jordan, sitting on a chair with their hands folded over their lap.

“So, (y/n) had some pretty interesting things to tell me about the two of you,” I say, emotionless in an attempt to make them think I’m on Jordan's side.

“What do you mean?” Garcia asks shakily.

“They’re lying Hotch,” Reid shouts, I can practically hear his heart pounding in his chest.

“So you mean to tell me you didn’t go snooping around (y/n)’s past?”

“Well, yes, but no, that’s not what-” Garcia fumbles

“I told you, sir, they don’t trust me!” Jordan interrupts.

“Thank you for telling me (y/n), you can go now. I’ll deal with them in private.”

“Yes sir.” Jordan stands up, smoothing their hands over their slacks. Jordan walks out of the room, smiling at Garcia and Reid as they leave. I can see Jordan's mouth move on her way out but can’t quite make out what they said.

“Both of you, sit. (Y/n) had some interesting things to share with me, but I would like your side before I make any decisions.” I say to them in a no-nonsense tone. I hate having to treat my team like this but they don’t know why I’m doing this. Not yet at least.

“Reid had his doubts and asked me to do a deep dive on (y/n) because we’re a family, and we need to make sure no one bad is part of it.” Garcia begins to explain.

“Did you find anything?” I question, cutting Garcia off.

“Yes!” Garcia exclaims “Their real name is Jordan Sawyer, they went to Shaw University, which doesn’t even have any classes to become an FBI agent, and they almost failed all of their tests and barely got into college, their parents are alive and well and live in North Carolina, not New Jersey, and, well…” Garcia trails off.

“Well, what?” I prodded.

“They’ve.. done some pretty gruesome things.” Reid joins in.

“If you would let me grab my laptop I could show you, I don’t feel comfortable saying any of it,” Garcia says.

“No. I’ve heard enough.” I shake my head and lean back in my chair.

“Hotch, you have to believe us! We wouldn’t tell you if it wasn’t true! Please let us show you!” Reid begs of me. But I must keep the facade going.

“Get out. We have a new case, go gather the team-up. (Y/n) included. And do NOT spread this misinformation to the rest of the team. If you go snooping any further I will have to revoke your badges. Do the right thing and stay out of it.” I order them, whilst being dangerously calm.

“Yes sir.” Garcia and Reid say in unison, practically running out of my office. Once they are out I open my drawer and pull out my journal to document my thoughts as well as a classified file to review. It’s Jordan’s file. What the team doesn't know is that Jordan is a heinous killer with no remorse, one of the worst killers in history. Worse than the Zodiac and Ted Bundy himself. What sets them apart is that Jordan has a team of hundreds of people behind them cleaning up all evidence. After each mission, Jordan gains a new identity and consumes a new life. From what we know, Jordan has had 17 different identities and is only 26 years old. They complete their mission within weeks for the most part, despite not being bright in school. They are well versed in every criminal act you could think of. To my knowledge, Jordan’s next mission is to destroy the entire BAU by murdering every person in the FBI and taking over the building. That’s why I made arrangements for them to be put on the team so I can watch and profile them. I’m not surprised Reid was the first one to catch on, but this is NOT good. Or maybe it is? I’m not sure yet. Should I tell the team or keep working the case on my own? I guess I’ll have to make that decision soon.

“Hey boss man, we’re waiting for you in the conference room. Garcia is ready to go over the case.” Rossi says from outside of my door making me stop in my tracks completely. I follow Rossi to the conference room.

“Perfect, now everyone is here. We have a case in our own backyard. Dale City, to be exact. Just 12 miles away. The unsub seems to be breaking into homes to steal things and well…” Garcia clicks her button and turns our attention to the screen behind her.

“These were taken at the last three crime scenes.”

“Based on these pictures our unsub seems to be meticulous and precise with what they’re doing,” JJ states,

“Given how organized the crime scenes are one may conclude that our unsub is suffering from a severe case of OCD.” Reid theorizes.

“They don’t seem to be the dominant type either,” Emily claims. I hardly hear what anyone is even saying. I'm hyper fixated on Jordan and observing their behavior. For some reason, they’ve been checking their watch every 5 minutes and their phone every few seconds.

“Jo- (y/n), is everything okay?” I almost blew my cover over such a simple question.

“Yes, I’m good boss. There were just some minor issues with my dog sitter but I can deal with it later.”

“You have a dog?” Morgan asks excitedly.

“Yes! I have a-” I cut Jordan off, “Wheels up in 30. Let’s get to the crime scenes before another one appears.”

“The cars are outside waiting on your arrival, sir.” Garcia quickly states in a worried tone. I hope her or Reid didn’t hear me almost give away the newbie's true identity.

“Morgan, Emily you two go to the most recent crime scene and see what you can find out. JJ, I want you to go to the local police department and gather as much information as you can and coordinate with Garcia. Reid, (y/n), you two go to the first and second crime scenes and see if you can find any patterns. Rossi and I will go speak with the latest victims' parents and get them into custody in case they are in danger. We will bring their parents back to the station and coordinate with JJ.”

“Okay, Hotch” Emily, Morgan, and JJ said.

“Uh- um okay sir,” Reid responds while being visibly confused.

“I’ll meet everyone outside in 5.” Everyone leaves and boards the cars and I pull out my journal once more to add that I decided to pair up Jordan and Reid to see if Reid catches onto anything and maybe finds out any information on them. He’s one of the best profilers I know. If anyone can secretly uncover someone's past behind my back, it’ll be him. Okay, I have to go meet up with the team before things get suspicious. I'll keep this journal updated as I gather new information. Time to go catch an unsub.

Tag List: @omgbigfluff @less-intelligent-spencerreid @louiscardinalsshi123 @ariccio50

My Editor: @the-beatles-are-better

[soulofatiny]

No fear, I’m here... Ch.7: exposed

warning(s): none...for now

word count: 2.9k

a|n: i’m so sorry this took longer than i had expected to write. i hope you’ll enjoy! happy reading <3

tag: @dearmingi , i’m not sure if you still wanted to be tagged but here it is!

Ch.8

masterlist

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Set opened his eyes alertly and carried his body off the top bunk, careful not to wake you from your current slumber on the bottom bunk. The phase two facility always required nap time around midday to assist in promoting brain activity. Set always snuck out during this timeframe once he cautiously inspected the facility’s format and came to the conclusion that security was the lowest during this time. 

Now was his chance.

Before he exited out of the door, he looked back one last time at your sleeping figure. The sight of you sleeping so peacefully soothed his heart, taking notice of the blanket that was threatening to fall off of your body and onto the floor.

“Just wait a little longer. I’ll get us out of here,” Set whispered tenderly as he covered you with the blanket once more, then attentively made his way out of his shared bedroom with you. 

Set quietly paced through the cold and empty hallways. His heart was pounding against his chest from the pure fear of getting caught one day. Unlike the others who were selected for ZG’s special program, Set lacked deeply in the physical spectrum, making his travel a lot more difficult. He felt a familiar tickle in his throat and he silently begged that it will remain in its place until he at least exited the building. He suppressed the irritation as much as he could and picked up his pace once he saw the double doors that led him outdoors, keeping his steps as noiseless as he could. The cool metal slammed against his palms when he pushed the doors open and as soon as the doors shut behind him, Set erupted into a harsh coughing fit. 

‘Made it in time…’ he thought to himself as the cough began to cease.

“You made it.” 

Set jolted slightly, startled at the voice but was relieved when he turned to see who it was, Wu. The title translated as the Chinese number five, the 5th one that had arrived in the phase two facility out of ten. 

“Are you okay? Your coughing sounds worse,” Wu stated, tone lingered with worry.

“I’m- fine,” Set cleared his throat once more, still feeling the prickling tingles in his windpipe. 

“Does Professor know?”

Set shook his head.

“How about…Nana…your sister? Does she know?”

“No, and she’ll never know about this,” Set urgently declared, more to himself than to Wu. He knows that Wu wouldn’t be able to tell her anything regardless since no one besides your assigned family member were allowed to speak to each other. 

Wu looked down at his feet awkwardly, unable to find the right words but Set broke the silence instead, “Come on. We should go to the fence, I’m sure Seonghwa is waiting.” Wu nodded in agreement and followed Set to the fence that was more like a gated barrier that kept all of the residents locked in place. There were numerous spots where the trees were large enough to keep them hidden from the security cameras. It took Set roughly two years to find these spots, cautious to make sure he wouldn’t get caught. As they walked, they saw a figure that was standing under one of the hidden areas on the other side of the barricade, close enough for them to converse. Once the figure laid his eyes on them, he smiled and waved, “I thought you two wouldn’t make it tonight.”

“Hey Seonghwa, we were fine. I just had to wait for Set,” Wu replied cheekily.

“Set…have you found out about anything else?”

Set nodded slowly and cleared his throat, feeling the familiar tickle again, “Initiation day is nearing. I’ve gone through Professor’s documents while she wasn’t looking…” he fell into silence, incapable of announcing the despairing date as Wu and Seonghwa stared at him, palms clammy due to nerves. 

“Initiation d-day is on…October 24th,” he finally announced with a stern look on his face. The two boys’ eyes grew wide upon hearing such a statement.

“T-That’s only one week from now, Set! There’s no way initiation day is that soon!” Wu exclaimed as he shook Set’s shoulders, hoping what he had just heard was simply a mistake but Set only adverted his eyes, indicating that it was true.

“Wu…it’s been three years since the 10th one arrived. The date was clearly written on Professor’s documents. It’s time.”

“Set, Wu… how’s the rest of the residents? Have they fallen into ZG’s psychiatric manipulation? Are there more like you two? How many can we save?” Seonghwa asked a little hesitantly, afraid to actually hear his answer. 

“I’ve made sure that Nana still practiced her independent thinking without Professor noticing… so I’m pretty sure that she won’t be manipulated during initiation. As for the rest of them… I think it’s too late…”

The atmosphere instantly became tense and far too heavy. Seonghwa grasped the fence tightly, “Okay…how about you Wu?” 

“I’ve tried b-but my assigned family member...” Wu’s voice cracked, “I-It’s too late…” he finally answered as he covered his burning eyes with his arm.

“I see…” Seonghwa sighed, “We were too late…” 

Set placed his arm on Wu’s shoulder, trying to provide some sort of comfort during this heavy conversation.

Seonghwa let out a shaky sigh once more and extended his hand as far as he could through the spaces of the fence, as looked at the two boys with a determined look, “I’ll get you both out of there. Nana too. We may have been too late…but we can still save three lives.”

The two boys mirrored Seonghwa and reached for his hand. Seonghwa grasped their hands and met their eyes with resolve, “We recently gained two new members and they know a lot about ZG’s organization. With them and including Hongjoong, we will do everything we can to get you all out of there.”

“Thank you, Seong–“

“Brother, where are you? Professor is looking for us!”

The three boys were startled upon hearing your voice that was at a decent distance but was gradually nearing by.

“Brother! Are you out here?” you called out again and waited to hear a response but was only faced with silence. 

You continued to look around and saw two figures standing with another on the other side of the fence. There was no way that an outsider would be near this place since Professor told you before that it was isolated. You rubbed your eyes in disbelief and then looked once more with more focus but only two figures were standing there. 

‘I guess it was my imagination,’ you murmured and made your way over to the two figures alertly to see if one of them was Set and you were surprised to find that one of them was, indeed, your brother.

“Brother…” you called out again, a little more timidly this time since you weren’t used to others being so near.

Your brother and the boy turned to you and Set smiled, “Nana, what’s wrong? Why are you out here?”

“Nap time is over. Professor is looking for us…” you answered as you hid behind Set, who chuckled at your action.

“It’s fine, Nana. This is Wu. We were just out here for some fresh air. Say hi.”

You peeked over Set’s shoulder and made eye contact with Wu who was giving you a friendly smile. You finally moved to your brother’s side and bowed your head slightly, “Hello…”

“Hi Nana~ Don’t worry, I was just leaving. Let’s make our little meeting our little secret from Professor~” Wu answered as he placed his hand on top of your hand gently, and then walked back towards the facility. 

“Come on, Nana. We should go back too,” your brother suggested and you nodded as you both also headed towards the building.

Seonghwa, who was hiding behind one of the trees, let out a relieved breath, “So that’s Nana.. how cute,” he smiled at the sight of you admiring the sky and then shifted his expression more serious and determination in his eyes, “I promise we’ll get you guys out of there.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How is she doing?”

“She seems to be doing better. I’m...really glad she was able to release some of her emotions.” “Me too… it must’ve been suffocating.”

“Well the sooner we get her out of ZG, the better.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were currently sitting at the boss’ office, sharing updates upon your well-being. Ever since your mental breakdown, Seonghwa had definitely taken notice on how you were distancing yourself from him. He autonomously let out an extensive sigh, exposing the great stress he felt with how he could help break down your walls completely. When he saw you cry on that one stormy day, he felt as if his heart was physically getting ripped out of his chest. Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows upon the memory, feeling his chest tighten. He simply wanted to take your pain away. All of it.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong called, causing the older boy to take his thoughts elsewhere, “Seonghwa…don’t worry. I don’t intend on dragging this out any longer. It’s time we make our move next.”

-

Roughly two weeks had passed since you unveiled your vulnerable state to Seonghwa and although you tried your best to remain unchanged, his deep voice kept echoing within your mind.

“I’ll never leave you behind.”

His tone was so clear and vivid. It strangely provided warmth and comfort whenever you felt your anxiousness approaching within you. However, all of your ease disappears whenever you encounter Seonghwa as you, for some reason, couldn’t bear to completely face him. Whether if it was the sheer embarrassment of exposing such vulnerability to him or your usual habit of always expecting the worst...you didn’t know. But instead of pondering upon your feelings, you exerted your main focus on the mission you’ve been assigned by your boss but it’s been gradually getting more difficult to do so. Each phone call you make with your boss about the members, it felt as if thorns were prickling your throat when the words left your mouth. You gazed at the members from the sideline of the training room. Although they occasionally fool around, they all work hard. Even Yeosang, who lacks in the areas of combat, works hard by using his intelligence to improve the team. Or even Hongjoong, their just leader. Although he doesn’t always train with the rest of the members, you know he’s always working on something to advance their organization.

“What can I do to stop all of this...” you unknowingly whispered, your thoughts free from your mind. 

“Stop what?” 

You looked towards the direction of the voice, completely aware of who it was. 

It was Yunho. 

He joined you on the benches, sitting next to you. You greeted him, and then took your gaze back at the members. 

“So, stop what?” he asked again as he gazed with you. 

“It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does matter if it’s something that’s bothering you.”

You looked at Yunho, a little stunned, “What?”

You couldn’t tell but his heart began beating a little faster the second he accidentally let the words slip out of his mouth.

“N-Nothing, I didn’t say anything.” He replied trying to remain nonchalant to hide his flustered thoughts. 

“But you just said it does matter if it’s something that’s bothering m–” 

“No. I didn’t,” Yunho replied, a little more defensive.  

“But you said–”

“You’re just imagining things! God, you talk too much...”

Yunho covered his mouth as the words fell out of his mouth. He silently cursed at himself for not being able to say what he truly wants to say, ‘Don’t worry about anything by yourself’ or even ‘I’m always here to help’. However, instead of saying the wishful lines, he always said the exact opposite of what he truly wanted to say and he despised himself for it.

“Excuse me?” you looked at him, eyebrow slightly raised. 

Yunho panicked and proceeded to say the words that didn’t match with his genuine feelings, “I said you talk too much, Gremlin. What about it?” 

“Last time I checked you’re the one who came over here and interrupted my peaceful time,” you stood up abruptly, feeling your body heat up in annoyance and turned to walk away. 

Yunho extended his hand to stop you but the memory of you yanking your hand back when he did it in the past flashed through his mind, and he slowly put his hand back to his side. 

“Shit...” he cursed at himself for making you angry yet once again and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration with himself.  

“Well, that was rough~”

Yunho sighed, not even having to look behind him to know who it was, “I’m sorry I keep pissing your sister off.” 

Yeosang sat next to Yunho, replacing where you were sitting earlier as he chuckled, “Is it really that hard to say ‘Hey, I know you probably think I hate you but I actually care about you and I want you to rely on me more’?” 

“T-That’s not what I wanted to say,” Yunho could feel his cheeks heat up, frustration and now embarrassment building inside him. 

“Oh yeah?” Yeosang nudged Yunho’s arm and continued teasing, “Then was it, ‘I didn’t think I would fall for you but I actually did and don’t know what to do with my feelings’?” 

“What?” Yunho stared at him astonished, “Feelings for who? The only feelings I have for her is pure dislike. Remember? I don’t want her here. I never did and I never will.”

The words were harsh but both Yeosang and Yunho himself knew that it was far from the truth. Yunho could feel his friend stared at him in amusement and he deeply wished he could simply shrink away from this situation so he stood up a little hastily to make his escape.

“I just remembered I have something to do.”

“Oh? Suddenly?” Yeosang asked, completely satisfied with the flustered state Yunho was in.

Yunho walked away and gave him a small wave, avoiding to look at him. 

“Hey, Yunho! Thanks for at least trying to make her feel better even though you ultimately failed!”

Yunho tripped over his own feet upon hearing Yeosang’s words but finally managed to exit out of the basement with some dignity still left within him although the red hue completely overtook his complexion.

“No…No there’s no way,” he mumbled to himself in disbelief. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stormed out of the basement, anger completely rid from your mind. Deep down, you knew that Yunho only approached you to help despite both of you always clashing in the end. As you were walking down the hallway, you saw Hongjoong walking from the opposite direction.

“Ah, y/n! I was about to call everyone for a meeting. You can go ahead and go to the assembly room. We’ll be there soon.”

A meeting? Was Jongho spending too much money on food again? Or maybe he wanted to talk about Wooyoung’s sleeping habits? You truly couldn’t read the expression on the leader’s face so you simply nodded in agreement as you both parted ways. Upon reaching the assembly room, you knocked three times. A habit that you have formed each time you’ve entered your boss’ office. Shuffling footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door as the door clicks open. Your heart paused for a moment when Seonghwa’s face was revealed as the door opened and if your attentive self was correct, you noticed his eyes widening slightly before clearing his throat and asking you to come in. You mumbled a small thank you and complied, taking a seat on one of the chairs that surrounded an oval table. Certainly, a professional assembly room. Seonghwa closed the door and took a seat that was two spaces from yours, keeping a safe distance. 

“You know you didn’t have to knock. You can enter assembly rooms freely.”

“I know…it’s just a ha–”

Your voice was cut off when the door opened once more, revealing Hongjoong and the rest of the members with some chattering as they walked in one by one. You silently thanked the timing for clearing the awkward atmosphere as they each took a seat, except for Hongjoong who remained standing at the very edge of the table. 

Yeosang sat next to you, “I can tell this meeting is going to be a serious one.”

You looked at him questionably, “How can you tell?”

“Just from the look on his face,” he whispered. 

“Let’s begin,” the leader announced. The room was immediately filled with silence and earned everyone’s attention. Could everyone truly tell that this was going to be a “serious” meeting?

“I’ll cut to the chase,” the leader continued, tone unwaveringly directive, “Y/n.”

You stiffened at the mention of your name as the members including Yeosang turned to face you.

“I know about the secret mission that ZG had assigned to you.”

∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘

-e|n: should i release shorter chapters but more often or release longer chapters but not as often??? please let me know! also please anticipate the next chapter. there’s going to be some drama ahead...

[vizhi0n]

Sawney - Part 41

Chapter Masterlist

@kellyn1604 @i-am-negan-trash @jasoncrouse @lucifers-trash-stash @superprincesspea @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @orchiddingme @collette04 @imjustmakingsuffupagain @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @toxic-ink @originalwinchestervamp @neganswinchesters @castielwinchester22 @romeomontvgue @gay-for-negan @genevievedarcygranger @heartfulloffandoms @strangersangel9 @hannibalssweaters @deviousginga @moonypetyr @itstotalyblue @jessiellong1987 @backseat-negan @gremlinfuck @rapsity @jasoncrouse @negans-network @vinylmadwoman @fatedwisp @embracetheapocalypsewithme @lovingzombiechaos @nycktmcginn @jeffreydeanneganstrash @mcnegan @melodicdolls @mypapawinchester @my-achilles--heel @ladylorelitanyfanfiction @darkangel66a @crzcorgi

Warnings: Nothing, just Negan’s potty mouth (as usual.) We’ve got five chapters left till the end, guys! I’ll probably be updating once a day until the end, so bear with me.

They congregated on neutral ground, picking an old, abandoned and boarded up diner as their meeting place. Rick and Michonne had already arrived, and upon entering the building, the tension became palpable. Negan, of course, took advantage of this and decided the best thing to do would be to make it more awkward.

He sat, kicking his feet up against the table and whistling, “Afternoon, Rick.”

Rick nodded, shifting his gaze away. His booted foot tapped nervously against the hardwood floor.

Ezekiel came next. Desa had never met the leader of the Kingdom, and he walked with elegance and swagger. Behind him came a grey haired, shorter woman who quickly embraced Rick and Michonne. Maggie was last, a long-haired, bearded man whom Desa recognized as Jesus on her heels.

They’d left their weapons at the door, including Lucille.

Lips pressed into a thin line, the grey haired woman extended a hand to Desa. She ignored Negan, but her tone was light, with a hint of forced politeness.

“We haven’t met. I’m Carol.”

“Desa.”

They shook hands. The woman then sat down next to Ezekiel, looking wary. Once everyone was settled, Maggie cleared her throat and began to speak.

“I’m glad we could all sit down together. This is what a civilized society looks like. Diplomacy, not violence,” she shot a less-than friendly glance at Negan, before averting her gaze. “I’m confident that we can work things out like this moving forward.”

“Well, I for one am happy to fucking be here and not, you know, back out there throwing bullets around. We aren’t fucking savages,” Negan rolled his eyes.

“You brutally beat two of our people to death,” Michonne hissed. “Seems pretty savage to me.”

“That could have been avoided, but stupid do what stupid fucking does—”

“Stop,” Maggie slapped her palm against the table, glaring. “We’re not going to sit here argue about the past. We have work to do.”

“Agreed,” Ezekiel proclaimed. “There is much to be done. First and foremost, we must assure that Rick and his people have the supplies they need to continue rebuilding their home.”

“We’ll help with that,” Desa said. Before Negan could object, she added, “We have more building supplies than we know what to do with.”

She glanced over at Negan, and he shrugged, murmuring, “Yeah, sure.”

“Thank you,” Rick nodded.

“What about food?” Negan blurted. “We have a limited amount of fucking soil. We're not farmers,” he glanced at Maggie and Jesus. “The arrangement we had before with the Hilltop…can that shit still continue?”

“You’re not taking half,” Jesus said.

“Twenty-five percent, then?” Negan said.

“Fifteen.”

“Deal,” Negan rested his gloved hand against the table. “We’ll provide you with guns. Something other than those flimsy-ass spears you have. Speaking of flimsy, how’s Gregory? Is that fucker still alive?”

“He’s where he needs to be,” Jesus replied. Negan smirked, dipping his head.

“Good. I always hated that asshole.”

“We all did.”

The meeting continued smoothy, other than a few hiccups which occurred when Negan lost control of his smart mouth. Resources were split, and in the end, all four parties walked away relatively satisfied. Trade routes would be drawn up, as well as lines of communication between the four communities. The gathering concluded with Negan making a final request that had Desa’s face flushing.

“One last fucking thing,” Negan said. He jerked a thumb in Desa’s direction. “Two fucking things, actually. One, my lady and I plan on getting married. Nothing too fucking fancy, but if you don’t mind, Rick, I’d like to borrow your priest for the ceremony. Two, I made a bit of a boo-boo and busted inside her while we were fucking, and lo and behold, guess what? In nine months a fucking baby is going to come out of her! Unfortunately my community isn’t equipped to deliver a child safely. So I was wondering if we could use your community for checkups and deliveries. I know you have the equipment.”

He held Maggie’s gaze, eyebrows raised as he awaited an answer.

“You’re pregnant?” Michonne suddenly said. Desa nodded sheepishly.

“Courtesy of yours truly,” Negan boasted, grinning.

Please shut up, Negan. Please shut up.

Maggie sighed, taking a moment to think. Desa saw her hand absently rest against her swollen belly, before she said, “Yes. You’re welcome to use Dr. Carson, however, he,” she pointed at Negan, “Will not step foot inside my community.”

“Fair,” Negan said. Beneath the table, he squeezed Desa’s hand. “If not me, then…?”

“Anyone but you,” Maggie said.

Desa looked away. The meeting ended, and she and Negan quickly hurried towards their truck. They weren’t welcome — Desa didn’t mind, but she wanted to leave as quickly as possible before Negan decided to antagonize Rick any more than he already had.

“That went well,” Desa climbed into the truck, letting out a sigh. “I’m glad Maggie agreed to let me use Harlan Carson. I feel better. I’m less worried.”

Negan started the truck, reaching over to place his hand against her flat stomach. “Good. You know there’s no reason to be afraid. Whatever fucking happens, I’ll be with you. Always.”

“I know,” Desa glanced down at his hand. “I know.”

A week turned into two weeks. Then three. Then six, seven, eight, nine, and ten. Then twelve and thirteen. Then eighteen. until Desa could stand naked in the mirror and see and feel the swell in her stomach. The morning sickness had dissipated, replaced with the added weight of a human growing inside her small body.

That was when she and Arat drove to the Hilltop. They respected Maggie’s wishes and left Negan behind, although he spent plenty of time begging and bribing Desa to let him come. She didn’t break, and he finally caved and stayed put.

To Desa’s surprise, it was Carl who greeted them at the gate. At the sight of him, Desa waved and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m learning how to become a blacksmith. Theres a guy here who’s been teaching me,” Carl replied. “I like it. Plus my, uh, girlfriend is here.”

“You have a girlfriend?”

“Enid,” Carl said sheepishly. “She’s cool. You’d like her.”

Arat remained near the truck while Desa followed Carl. She saw his eyes travel to the small bulge in her stomach, and without preamble he asked, “Did you plan on having a kid?”

“No,” Desa admitted. “It kind of just…happened. I’m happy, though.”

“I’m glad it worked out like this.”

“Thank you, Carl.”

The boy headed off, stating that he had another lesson with the blacksmith. Desa entered Harlan Carson’s trailer, poking her head around the corner before walking up the steps. He greeted her with a warm smile, before gesturing for Desa to lay on a padded table.

“You’ve never had a kid before, right?”

“Right.”

“So this is all new to you,” Harlan began fiddling with the machines. “If you have any questions, I’ll answer them. Maggie had her baby a few weeks ago — she’s a good resource if you need any tips before delivery, etcetera…”

“I don’t think Maggie likes me,” Desa snorted. “I don’t blame her. It’s better if I avoid her.”

“She doesn’t like Negan. Most of us don’t. But I think she see’s how different you are from him,” Harlan gently slid Desa’s shirt up. “Don’t worry too much about it. Things are going well, for all of us. These have been the most peaceful five months in a long, long time.”

Desa winced as the gel touched her skin. Soon, she was staring at an image — a beating heart, curled toes, a hand, a foot, a head. She sucked in a breath as Carson watched her, a smile on his face.

“Do you want to know the gender?”

“Yes, please.”

Carson studied the image. His smile widened and he laced his fingers together, turning to Desa and saying, “Congratulations. You’re having a boy.”

[artbysarah98]

Part 2 What the f*ck is going on?

When we're young...series

Masterlist

Part 1 An unexpected turn

A/N - I've never been on an airplane before and also have no idea how a flying works or an airport. So not everything may be accurate.

Ella

"Dear passengers, this is your captain speaking. We're a half-hour away from our destination Seoul, Korea. We are starting our descend to Incheon International Airport soon. So we would like you to fasten your seatbelts, please. We hope you enjoyed your flight with Korean Air, and we wish you a pleasant stay. Upon exiting the aircraft, please take all your belongings with you," announced the pilot over the intercom first in Korean. He repeated himself in English for international passengers like Ella. This alerted Ella to sit up straight in her seat and fasten her seatbelt.

She looked around her. As far as she could see, the other passengers were of Korean nationality or at least an Asian one. A few other people stood out because they looked closer to her citizenship. She felt a little bit out of place, being one of the only passengers with a different nationality. The man on her left was one of these passengers. A middle-aged baldheaded man, around 45 years old, yet a prominent black mustache. On top of his head were a pair of glasses.

'Those must be for reading. He hasn't worn them at all during the flight. I would have put them in my carry-on baggage to not lose them, but then again, I lose almost everything with how clumsy I am,' she thought while her eyes glided down to his expensive-looking suit, 'He looks like a businessman on his way to make a new deal. I wonder where he's going.'

The man looked very tired as if he hadn't slept in days. He looked like he could fall asleep any second. He nodded his head as he started to doze off. However, a sudden gust of air caused some turbulence shaking the plane. This caused the man to straighten up, looking around for what was happening. Ella saw his eyes also falling on her. They held each other's gaze for a few seconds before she decided that this interaction became too awkward.

Ella looked over to her right shoulder. On a row behind her sat a young girl with long blond hair braided into one thick braid. The end of this braid rested on her left shoulder. Ella's eyes fell on the hair tie that held it in place. The color of it was red and had a red heart charm with a silly face on it. A smile crept on Ella's face, 'That looks cute. I wonder where she got it. Maybe I should ask her? No, that would be awkward.'

The girl looked around her age, maybe a little longer 16 or 17 perhaps. Ella saw the girl happily swaying her head along to the music she was listening to on her earbuds. She was also singing along to the music, but Ella couldn't understand what the lyrics were aside from some English words that clearly had something to do with the main title. Ella had a feeling that the chorus was playing again as the words 'Fake Love' started falling from the girl's lips once more.

The girl was wearing a shirt of some group Asain looking men called BTS, as that was the name plastered onto it in huge letters together with a logo that looked like doors being pushed open, and a pair of bleached shorts. Ella had no idea who or what BTS was, but she wanted to find out. Maybe that had to do with the strict rules the Young Boarding School had on the use of mobiles and the internet. Those rules always caused her to missed new things becoming popular. That included celebrities like this BTS probably was, or else, their faces wouldn't be on a shirt. Her curiosity being ignited caused her to grab her phone, a Samsung Galaxy S7, maybe not the latest edition, but sufficed its primary job.

'I lived under a rock,' thought Ella as the hits with articles related to this BTS group started showing up, 'These guys have millions of fans, apparently called ARMY, won multiple awards. They performed during the AMAs in 2017, making history for other K-Pop idols and K-pop music industry and yet I still managed to miss all of this somehow. Mom, Dad, why are your rules so strict?'

Now updated on who they are in general after reading some articles, she still didn't who was which member. Although she managed to learn the names, Ella still had to combine them with the right face. On top of that, she still had to discover what they sound like. Ella decided to look up their performance from the AMAs. The song was titled DNA. She plugged in her headphones and pressed play what she heard in the next 4 and a half minutes blew her away.

Their introduction was done by the Chainsmokers, and even they acknowledged the fact that called them international superstars was an understatement. The fans were chanting the name and screaming during the entire song. From the first note, until the very last, the boys did not lose her attention once. That meant a lot as Ella did not get into a different music taste smoothly, especially one she couldn't understand the language off. There was just something magical about the performance. The one with the silver-brownish hair gained her attention the most. Something kept telling her to keep looking at him.

'How have I never seen or heard anything about BTS before?' Ella thought in amazement, 'Let's save it in my favorite songs for now, and then I can look up more songs later.'

Ella put her earbuds away as she decided to look up some more about BTS. She ended up on the website from BigHit Entertainment, the agency BTS was signed under and clicked on the menu. This showed not only BTS but two other acts licensed under BigHit, TOMORROW X TOGETHER, and LEE HYUN. She was tempted to click on TOMORROW X TOGETHER, but clicked on BTS and then profile since that is what she originally came for. Ella quickly learned that BTS consists out of 7 men; Jin, Jimin, Suga, j-hope, Jung Kook, V, and RM, RM being the leader of the band. She managed to combine V to the man with the silver-brownish hair from the performance video that attracted her to him but wasn't any closer to learning which faces belonged to which of the remaining members. Despite that, she learned more about BTS. Ella noticed that she was being drawn in by the beauty of all the members and shook her head.

'Okay, this is enough BTS for now, and this is not beneficial for my phone's percentage,' thought Ella, 'I guess this is how it starts. You look up one thing about them and want to know more and more as if you're pulled in by a magnet.' She put her phone back in her pocket.

For the remaining time of the landing, Ella decided to take in some more of the passengers. Her awareness settled quickly on a Korean looking man to her right on the other side of the aisle. The man was wearing a black hoodie, dressed warmly for the time of year as Ella looked down at the green spaghetti top before looking back, and a black mouth mask covering almost his entire face except for his eyes and a few blonde locks peeking out underneath his hoodie. Ella couldn't quite see what his eye color was, but something about him attracted her to keep looking. The man looked a little older than her, maybe 25 or 26 years old. He was in a lively conversation with a man just a captivating a he was. His talking partner wore a plain black shirt, a white Nike cap, and a red mouth mask covering his entire face, just like the man with the black hoodie. A little of his blonde-brownish hair could be seen from underneath his cap.

Suddenly the man with the black hoodie turned his head looking around for a bit before he looked straight at her. Their eyes locked for a few seconds. Ella's face flushed crimson and quickly turned her head away. 'Om my god, this is so embarrassing. He caught me observing him,' Ella thought, 'At least I finally know what his eye color is.' Those eyes are probably one of the darkest she has ever seen. They are such dark shade of grey that they almost look black. Ella looked outside of the airplane window or at least tried to and noticed that they started their descend.

Baron

Baron and his bandmates from VAV are on their way back to Korea. They had just wrapped up a music video in the Phillippines. Their new music video 'Give Me More' is going to be released on July 23. This is the first time they made a music video featuring a different artist since their debut.

For this collaboration, they attracted the attention of a Latin American artist. For 'Give Me More' the band worked together with De La Ghetto and Play-N-Skillz. He hopes that their fanbase VAMPZ is going to be as enthusiastic as he is about their new song. He loved the more exotic vibe that was going on in the music video. Baron and his bandmate ACE are in an animated conversation talking about their new mv and what the reactions of the VAMPZ are going to be.

ACE said with a twinkle in his eyes, "I can't wait until we can tell the VAMPZ about our new mv. I'm so excited that I want the release date to be sooner."

"Me too," Baron responded with a smile gracing his hidden lips, "I think this mv will be received very well by VAMPZ, but we can't say anything about the mv yet. A Team will not be happy if you spill something, ACE."

"I know, Baron, but I still can't wait," ACE said, suddenly he noticed the girl on the other side of the aisle looking at them or specifically at Baron, "Uhh, Baron, I think someone is staring at you," nudging his head to someone on Baron's left side.

Baron turned his head in the direction that ACE pointed out. He searched for the person ACE was talking about. His eyes landed on a girl directly on the other side of the aisle. He looked straight in her eyes. The eyes he met were big bright blue-greyish, and for about 15 seconds, they looked at each other. The girl then turned crimson and quickly turned her head away. Now Baron couldn't look away from her. Her beauty, drawing him in, wavy shoulder-length brown hair with blonde outgrowth, a little bit of lipgloss on her lips, her different nationality, and of course, the bright blue-greyish eyes that he couldn't get off his mind. The way that they held a sadness despite looking very lively intrigued him. He was glad he was wearing a mouth mask, or else the girl and ACE probably would have seen him turn crimson too. ACE tapped on his shoulder made Baron cut off his stare.

"You're doing the same thing as that she did. I can see she is beautiful too, but you probably won't see her again after the flight, and on top of that, you haven't even spoken one word to her yet. Not during the entire flight or just now when you crossed eyes. I would relax now if I were you. We're going to reach the terminal soon," said ACE. Baron looked one more time at the girl and did just that knowing what ACE was probably correct.

Ella

Ella nervously peeked to her right and left out a relieved sigh, 'He isn't looking at me anymore.'

She decided to put her thoughts somewhere else when she felt a strong urge pull on her. It was her bloodthirst, one of the downsides to being a vampire, or partly vampire, in the way she saw it. No matter how much she drank, she was never truly satiated. Ella let out a frustrated grunt placing her hands on her stomach, 'I fed before the flight. This flight is taking too long. Why do I have to be on this plane for 10 entire hours?! Guess I have to find a new person to feed form when I have found a place to stay for the night.'

Bloodthirst feels the same way as hunger feels to a human. It's an urge to get something in there and gets more demanding the longer you wait. It slowly eats you up on the inside until you give in to it. Sometimes this can result in brutal massacres caused by one vampire. Ella tried to calm herself and ignore her hunger. The fact that she was on a plane with over 100 blood pumping hearts wasn't making that any less hard. She was glad that the aircraft was lining up at the terminal entrance and that the doors were going to open soon.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ella was finally of the plane. She was now on her way to the exit of the terminal. Her desire teased her the entire time that Ella stood in the row to exit the plane. Even now, the sound of thumping hearts that seemed to increase by thousandfold as she got closer to the terminal exit. Ella saw her blue suitcase labeled with her name in red letters passing by on the baggage claim and took it off.

Packed with all her belongings, she made her way to the terminal exit. The moment the doors of the terminal opened, Ella was met with a sea of people. Paparazzi with their camera's at the ready and very excited looking girls. Most of them were wearing mouth masks, and many girls were holding signs with Korean phrases, Ella couldn't understand, and weird names.

'This explains why the sound of heartbeats increased so much. It doesn't explain, however, what is going on here. What do those signs say?' thought Ella as she felt confused, but panicked at the same time. Her PTSD started kicking in by the screaming and amount of people. Ella tried to calm herself down as she looked at the signs, 'Those names are so weird. Are that Korean names or stages names like the members of BTS also have? Can you even call those words names? I don't know. Whatever the signs say to me, it looks like a children's drawing with all those strange symbols.'

Ella had never seen anything like this before. Experiencing this unknown feeling increased her bloodthirst and sped up her breathing. For a second, her eyes flashed golden as she felt trapped. She knew people often had family waiting for them at the terminal, but this was insane. Her hunger for blood almost took the better of her at that moment, but she managed to hold back. Seeing that the crowd wasn't going to part any time soon, she let out a sigh as she needed to get away from that place. So in complete conflict with what her therapists always told her, Ella ignored her PTSD. Otherwise, she would really attack somebody out of hunger combined with panic and a flinch of frustration. No other option left Ella started pushing her way through, but that wasn't easy seeing that they weren't, exactly, cooperative in letting her through. She took a moment to catch her breath, something she rarely needed to do as a hybrid and looked around, seeing that she was not the only one having trouble with this. Ella sighed and continued her way through the sea of people.

As Ella struggled to get through the sea of people, the crowd suddenly got even more lively. Cameras were flashing, and girls started screaming.

"Ayno." "Ziu." "Please marry me, ACE!" "Baron-Oppa, please notice me!" "VAV!" Though looking men in black suits started separating the sea of people so that the group of men called VAV could pass. This resulted in her being pushed out of the way roughly by one of the men in black. Ella was getting kinda pissed. Her pupils dilated, and veins started to show underneath her eyes. Realizing that her face was showed its true colors, Ella tried calming herself down. Her expression morphed back to her normal one. She waited for the so-called VAV to pass. One by one, seven men with bodyguards passed by, but she recognized one of them. It was the man who sat on to her right on the other side of the aisle. By the shocking impression on his face, it looked like he recognized her too. He almost stopped in his tracks, but a bodyguard ushered him to keep walking. He passed her but looked back at her one more time before leaving her eyesight. The crowd of people started to drip away following VAV giving Ella a chance to breathe and calm down.

'What the f*ck just happened? Who is that man who sat on the other side of the aisle?' thought Ella, 'Well, it doesn't matter for now. I need to find a place to feed before I attack somebody at the airport.'

Part 3 A encounter that she didn't see coming