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hansolmates · 4 years ago

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here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits / @chillingtae for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.”

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.”

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband.

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend.

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes.

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?”

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers.

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.”

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds.

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy. It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons.

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?”

“As if you care.”

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.”

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan.

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.”

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night.

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.”

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.”

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid.

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.”

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.”

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.”

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?”

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.”

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop.

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?”

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.”

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.”

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.”

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says.

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.”

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.”

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table.

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!”

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.”

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?”

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders.

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility.

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow.

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted.

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon?

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through.

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date.

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist.

“How was the walk over?”

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.”

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours.

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is.

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill.

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?”

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat.

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?”

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.”

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?”

“It… was mildly cute.”

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.”

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning.

“Is that why you never hung out with us?”

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.”

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.”

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself.

“So what’s the plan?”

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.”

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?”

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon.

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth.

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.”

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.”

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass.

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.”

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple.

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place.

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?”

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says.

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.”

“I do like Valorant.”

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.”

“He’s ripped as hell.”

“I am ripped as hell.”

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.”

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.”

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.”

“Okay yes one bad example—”

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.”

“See? It’s a mutual decision.”

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!"

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now."

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.”

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair.

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.”

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace.

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish.

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!”

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.”

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!”

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.”

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?”

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.”

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.”

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.”

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin.

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her.

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.”

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.”

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something.

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?”

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head.

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.”

“Right,” you answer reluctantly.

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.”

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.”

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.”

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.”

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks.

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?”

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store.

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.”

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?”

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.”

“But, Namjoon got us a table—”

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.”

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.”

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.”

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.”

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes.

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard.

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork.

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips.

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.”

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket.

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?”

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream.

“Pray tell.”

“She’s jealous of you.”

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.”

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.”

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.”

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.”

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?”

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that?

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it.

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon.

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words, “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.”

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside.

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.”

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist.

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place.

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.”

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around.

“We’re in Vegas, baby!”

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!”

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it.

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?”

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger.

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.”

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.”

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same.

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent.

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you.

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton.

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.”

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.”

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then?

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?”

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.”

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.”

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks.

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?”

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick.

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.”

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.”

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.”

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.”

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.”

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.”

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.”

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini.

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area.

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place.

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.”

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side.

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.”

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.”

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.”

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on.

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one.

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy.

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.”

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for.

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.”

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified.

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?”

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating.

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week.

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes.

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double.

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?”

“But this is different!”

“But Doyeon’s family!”

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party.

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.”

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.”

“Deal.”

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body.

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.”

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.”

“Excuse me—”

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.”

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?”

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.”

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.”

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive?

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.”

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features.

“Is it something urgent?”

“Well, no but—”

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.”

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline.

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest.

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.”

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting.

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food.

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?”

He shrugs, “Looked around.”

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this.

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time.

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products.

“I wanna come!”

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.”

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?”

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.”

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.”

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom.

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design.

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too.

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height.

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel.

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean.

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.”

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in.

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.”

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.”

“Then more kisses?”

“Then more kisses.”

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?”

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!”

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college…

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two.

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button.

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.”

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u

You: lool, why do u look constipated

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest.

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge.

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.”

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind.

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin.

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.”

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator.

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet.

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.”

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?”

“Because it’s tradition!”

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?”

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.”

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down.

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite.

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure.

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down.

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better.

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!”

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship?

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you.

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?”

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family.

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different.

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together.

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room.

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes.

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?”

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!”

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?”

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods.

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor.

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down.

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?”

“Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy.

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process.

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!”

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons.

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice.

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.”

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you.

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.”

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words.

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.”

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double.

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon.

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you?

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist.

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.”

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?”

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook.

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.”

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips.

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.”

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.”

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.”

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face.

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands, “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.”

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you.

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.”

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs.

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.”

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt, a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash.

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—”

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?”

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back!

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you.

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment.

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer.

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.”

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.”

“Thanks, Jungkookie.”

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible.

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket.

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown.

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her.

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.”

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?”

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?”

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her.

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.”

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something.

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago.

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this.

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful.

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning.

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone.

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week.

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged.

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine.

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready.

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?”

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?”

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.”

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings.

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain.

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.”

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—”

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?”

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding.

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.”

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.”

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!”

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?”

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.”

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.”

“You’ll have to get through me, first.”

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress.

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.”

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin.

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.”

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.”

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground.

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision.

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel.

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.”

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.”

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t. Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle.

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?”

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?”

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.”

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations.

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie.

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon.

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family.

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online.

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend.

Or?

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs?

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter.

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.”

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.”

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric.

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon.

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself.

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…”

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.”

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.”

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.”

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.”

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips.

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline.

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.”

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair.

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?”

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs.

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.”

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now.

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.”

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.”

#jungkook x reader #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst

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ethanesimp · 3 years ago

Text

AMAMI PER SEMPRE // E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x Fem! Reader

Summary: Ethan isn’t the brightest—or the best—when it comes to surprises, so his attempt at proposing to you causes a few misunderstandings...

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing, a tiny tiny mention of death, some angst, other than that it’s pure fluff and me projecting my obsession with old books onto the reader.

Request: Ethan planning to propose and acting super nervous and strange (a bit angsty bc the reader doesn’t know what’s happening) and ending in pure fluff.

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: After more than a year of stepping foot into a bookstore for *cough* obvious reasons, I got to go to one yesterday. While looking at some second-hand books I had an idea that I decided to combine with @kawaiiwxnnabe’s lovely request to bring you this. I hope you enjoy! <3

Ethan had been mindlessly listening to Damiano sing Amandoti when the thought of marrying you first seriously crossed his mind. It had been a thing he’d thought of countless times ever since he started dating you, but it had never remained with as much intensity as it had that time.

Damiano, who had noticed his friend’s face illuminate all of a sudden, had a talk with him that once and for all convinced Ethan that it was the right time and you were the right person. He didn’t sleep at all that night because he couldn’t stop thinking about what would be the perfect way to propose to you. It was no secret to him—or anyone who knew you—that you were a hopeless romantic.

There was nothing that made you happier than simple and small details that came from the heart. That was the reason why you had developed an affinity towards old books. Not only did they have a particular and special scent that reminded you of vanilla and chocolate, but some had the luck—as you liked to call it—of being embellished by notes on margins or dedications on covers. Whether they were about love, sorrow, or maybe even hate, they still showed a small glimpse into the life of the person who had once owned it. Those notes told a story that would prevail even long after they were gone from the earth.

Ever since he had noticed that small obsession of yours, Ethan had tried to help you expand your treasured collection by bringing you back books he found at antique stores from every country the band played in.

During a visit to Spain after he initially had his stirring thought, Ethan took the chance to visit one of the second-hand shops he’d found during a night stroll with Victoria, who had disappeared into a bakery. His main goal was to find something different from the usual books he brought back for you.

After he walked into the store and vaguely told the old lady at the counter about his idea in the best Spanish he could muster, she smiled warmly at him and guided him to the very back of the tiny shop where a beautiful and worn out bookshelf sat in all its glory, filled with as many books as it could hold.

He immediately started searching around for the perfect book, but it proved to be harder than he initially thought it’d be. After searching around for more than an hour, all he had found was a collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s tales and poems with a heartbreaking note to someone’s dead lover. While it had almost brought him to tears and was a special thing he’d buy to give to you later, it wasn’t exactly the best thing to help him carry out his plan.

Victoria walked into the shop when he was about to give up and, fully aware of his plan, started looking around without saying a word to him. They both searched around the messy piles of books for something. It didn’t take long for her to stumble across three books held together by a lilac satin ribbon.

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. All three contained a note on the very first page right under the title, but the last one stood out above the other two because, according to his basic knowledge of Spanish, it ended with the very question he wanted to ask ¿Quieres casarte conmigo? Or ‘Will you marry me?’. He bought all three of them after a huge smile and a thumbs up from Victoria.

What he hadn’t expected was for them to remain hidden in a drawer he knew you never opened underneath piles of clothes. Ever since he came back from their small trip to Spain, Ethan had tried to ask the question about six times, but always ended up choking on his words and saying something else. In fact, the first time he ever tried, Ethan chickened out at the last second and ended up giving you the Edgar Allan Poe anthology instead.

You were still none the wiser to his plan even after he’d asked about your opinion on marriage a few times. Anyone would’ve probably caught up with what was going on already, but you were always so busy with things happening around you that you didn’t connect his awkward and nervous attitude with his questions.

You didn’t start giving his actions a second thought until one night… You had been cooped up in your office all day working on a new project you were supposed to present to your boss by the end of the week when you suddenly felt the urge to get up and walk around the house.

Ethan was casually sitting on the couch as he whispered unintelligible words into his phone. You supposed he was on a call with a friend or maybe his manager and was trying to be quiet to avoid disturbing you, but then he hung up the call with a panicked expression the moment he noticed you. After that, you started thinking back on the way he had been behaving ever since he returned and it all raised the suspicion that there was something strange going on.

It didn’t get any better when he kept on acting weird. Simple things that he had allowed you to do, like using his phone to take pictures because it had a better camera than yours, now seemed to make him almost mad. He’d even snapped at you once when you tried to grab it to take a picture with him. Even if Ethan had apologized right away, it still didn’t calm you down, especially because he had gone as far as to change the password on it.

It almost felt like he was walking on eggshells around you and you didn’t like it one bit. Your relationship had always been about honesty and worked because of constant communication. Everything was just so strange that your mind couldn’t help but think of the worst.

You were an imaginative person who never had any difficulties when it came to envisioning things clearly. Unfortunately, that also applied to every negative thought that crossed your mind, so it wasn’t hard for you to start coming up with the worst explanations as to why he was acting so suspicious. It didn’t help much that he had been busier than normal because the band was wrapping up on their latest album, so you hadn’t had the opportunity to sit down and voice all your concerns, to ask if something was going on and if there was a way to fix it.

The morning of your anniversary, you’d finally had enough. You had woken up, expecting to feel Ethan’s arm tightly wrapped around your waist and to receive a shower of kisses the moment he noticed you were awake, but no. There was no Ethan and the side of his bed was already neatly made.

Your disappointment only grew when he wasn’t in the kitchen or his small studio where he had his drums. You doubted he was in the house at all.

It was a thing that wouldn’t have affected you much had he done it any other time, but with everything that had been going on as of late, you could only fear the worst. So, without being able to control yourself, you started making the worst conclusions. You’d always been fully aware that he loved you, but all the signs undoubtedly pointed at him meeting someone new… And maybe he was going to leave you for them as well… during your anniversary.

That was all you needed to break into tears. You climbed back into bed and cried for what seemed to be hours. Even since you got together, you had thought of him as your person, your forever. The thought of him leaving you broke your heart into tiny pieces.

Ethan arrived home only a few minutes after you’d buried yourself underneath all the blankets and cried out all your worries. When he was about to open the door to your bedroom, he stopped. Were you crying?

He stood there in complete silence for a few seconds until he was more than sure that you were, in fact, crying. Ethan rushed inside and he felt his heart break at the sight of you looking so heartbroken, and it didn’t get any better when he heard a whimper come out of your mouth at the sight of him. You cuddled deeper into the bedsheets and turned away from him.

Ethan sat on your side of the bed and, as delicately as possible, he cupped your face into his warm hands and wiped your tears with his thumbs, “Amore,” He said in a quiet voice, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You tried to turn away from him, but his grip on your face stopped you from doing so. You placed one of your hands on top of his and gave it a firm squeeze. No part of you was ready to have that conversation with him because that was going to be it and you were going to have to watch him leave…

So, with a lot of courage, you spoke the first words that came to mind, “You know, i-it’s okay if you’ve found someone else,” You caressed his cheek softly as more tears started spilling down your face, “You can tell me if you have.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your words and the only thing he could do was shake his head no, “What? Found someone else? What would make you say such a thing dolcezza?”

Then, before you could even answer, realization hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt like the stupidest living being on the face of the Earth. He pinched his nose and sighed, annoyed at himself.

“Fuck… I’m so fucking stupid. Please don’t ever think of something like that. I was just… I-I,” Clueless as to what to say, Ethan pressed his lips against yours to kiss you slowly, hoping it spoke more than his words ever could. He could still taste a trace of the salty tears that had fallen on your lips and he couldn’t help but shed a few of his own at the thought that he’d been the one to make you cry.

After pulling away, Ethan pressed his forehead to yours and brushed his nose against yours while his arms held you as close as possible, “Will you close your eyes for just a second, amore mio? I promise everything will make so much sense soon.”

You nodded and kept your eyes closed as you felt him get up from the bed. You heard him open and close a few drawers, and look around for something for a while before he sat back on the bed. Ethan grabbed your hands in his and slowly slipped the three small books into your grasp.

You opened his eyes after a small sound of approval from him and smiled when you saw the three old books held together by a ribbon and the pretty pink rose that had been carefully been slipped into the first book and the ribbon.

You gently removed the flower and placed it on your side. Then you undid the simple knot and picked up the first book, “Wuthering Heights?” You questioned.

He nodded, “Yeah… At least I think that’s it. I hope I didn’t bring back some sketchy book or some shit,” Ethan scratched his neck and you giggled as you opened it on the first page. Your fingers brushed over the letters neatly written down in fountain pen.

After clearing your throat, you started reading the first dedication out loud. Since your Spanish wasn’t exactly the best either, you had to pause every once in a while to translate all the words, “May 17, 1850… My dearest Helena, I hope this book reaches you in great condition, being apart from you is one of the hardest challenges I have ever had to face, one of the most painful as well. I hope you can find me in between these pages as you read and remember how much I love you, remember how much I long to be back in your arms and kiss your lips. Sincerely, Alejandro.”

You closed it and placed it back on the bed before opening the second book and doing the same thing with the third, “January 24, 1855. Carolina, nothing I’ve ever experienced has gotten close to being as terrible as not having you in my arms. Apologies are overdue… long overdue. Words have never been my strongest suit, yet I still hope I can coherently express just how much I love you, all of you. I’m afraid I’m already too late since you will soon be betrothed to someone else and there will be nothing I can do by then.

“Still, I hope with everything in my being that this arrives sooner so you’re aware of how sorry I am. I hope you remember that I would do anything you asked without a single complaint just to watch that lovely smile I adore so much appear on your face. If you ever come back to me, I promise with every fiber of my being, and I’ll be dammed if I don’t keep my promise, that I will leave everything behind and escape with you. Anywhere, any time. So with that, I ask a question that will hopefully have a yes as an answer. Will you marry me? With love, Javier.”

Before you could close it, Ethan stopped you and timidly asked for you to open the book on the very last page. You did it and looked back at him with confusion at the sight of his writing on the page, “Read this one out loud for me. Will you Y/N?” You nodded and mumbled a small ‘of course’ before clearing your throat to get rid of the knot that had formed.

“October 21, 2025… Y/N, my one true love, I’ve always hoped to make a gesture that will remind you of your treasured books. I’ve never been one great with words spoken out loud, so I sought inspiration from those before me who were just as in love with someone as I am with you. Ever since I met you I dreamt of one day settling down with you, of having our small home in the countryside as you’ve always dreamed of. Maybe even doing some of those cloying gestures people seem to do in fiction and dedicate to you the most beautiful love poems I lay eyes on.

“I’ve wondered for a while how I could ever take the step that would bring me closer to that goal, yet every time I try, words seem to get stuck in my throat with no way out and I end up in square one all over again. It is with this note that I hope to finally take a step in the right direction because I know you’re it for me. You’re my person, my forever, and there’s nothing I would love more than to share my life with you. Sei la mia migliore amica e il mio unico vero amore. Ti chiedo di accettare il mio amore, il mio nome e tutto quello che sono.” (You are my best friend and my one true love. I ask you to accept my love, my name, and everything I am.)

When your eyes spotted the four words that followed, you slowly lowered the book, “Will you marry me?” You both said at the same time, although yours sounded more like an unintelligible mumble. Only then did you notice him down on one knee right in front of you. He held a velvet box with one of the most beautiful rings sitting inside of it

A hand went to cover your mouth as tears started falling down your face. This time, happy and free of worry. You could only nod repeatedly, overcome with pure joy as your heart swelled with love.

He slowly slid the ring into your finger and grabbed your face to kiss you once again, “I’m so sorry I made you think something else was going on. I just kept backtracking every time I tried to tell you. Not because I was regretting the decision but because I didn’t want to lose you.”

You shook your head as a silent way of saying it was alright and brushed his hair back with your fingers, “The important thing is that you’ve done it and you’re not going to lose me, no matter how hard you try. I’ll always be right here because I love you and I’ll always be yours.”

#ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio x you #ethan torchio x y/n #ethan torchio fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

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aubreyprc · 3 years ago

Text

all through the night

‘all through the night

i’ll be awake

and i’ll be with you’

summary - hotch is in a building hit by a dirty bomb and gets radiation poisoning. (established hotchniss - season 4 anthrax episode re write but i just?? make it worse. (for @ssa-m-187 bc ? she badgered me about this for ??? eight days straight✋🏻 also she is 21 now everyone say happy birthday)

ao3

The word bomb echo's through the building and there’s three seconds before it goes off. Three seconds in which Hotch grabs Emily, pushing the both of them behind a wall, holding her to his chest as he does his best to cover her from the impending blast, only able to watch the other members of his team scatter behind other forms of what they hope will be shields, in the corner of his eye he can see Morgan grab Reid, pull the younger man into his chest in a similar way as he is shielding Emily, head pressed into his shoulders, hand on the back of his head and in another situation he would probably question it, but he hears the click of something in the distance and holds Emily tighter, pressing her face further into his neck as they grip onto each other, her arms resting around his waist.

Closing his eyes, he feels the building shake around them, the sound of bricks falling on the other side of them sounding louder as it echos into their ears. The ringing sound that follows is unpleasant, but not unwelcome, because it’s a sound that they’re okay. That they made it.

Right?

“Are you okay?” he asks as the ringing in their ears almost knocks them to the floor. He cups her cheeks, forcing her to look at him as her legs give out underneath her, the unbalance of her hearing knocking her sense of gravity off course and he follows her to the floor, terror rising in his chest as she stares at him, squinting her eyes as pain rushes through her head, coughing slightly as dust hits her chest and lungs.

“Emily,” he says as best he can, his own voice sounding like an echo in his own ears. “sweetheart, can you hear me?” he asks her, complete horror coming down on him as he realises that she could have hearing damage, could have —

“What happened?” she asks, reaching out to grab him as they both rush to their feet, the shouts of the team and other people in the building registering at a louder frequency as the ringing silences.

“A bomb.” he tells her, “are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m— I’m okay.” she nods, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together as they stand and he smiles, running his thumb across her cheek before Morgan’s voice is hitting their ears.

“We have to get our of here.” he tells the, coming up to the side of them and reaching out to grab Emily’s arm, rushing the two of them from the building. Hotch squeezes Emily’s hand when she turns to face him, smiling softly at her as an indication that they’re okay and she smiles back.

As soon as they’re outside they all take large breaths, Emily’s hand sliding from his as she coughs, the fresh air forcing her lungs to recoil. He runs a hand down her back before walking towards the bomb squad, a million questions on his mind and he’s half way there when a scream hits everyone’s ears and renders them frozen, before they all turn back to the building.

“What was that?” Emily asks as Hotch makes his way back to her, everyone’s eyes on the building. “Who else was in there?”

“Did we ever find out if this was where he was hiding the girl?” Morgan asks, staring back to the team. “We barley had time to even look around before the bomb was activated. She could have been in there.”

“You think that scream was her?” Emily asks, rubbing a hand over her sore chest.

“I think it’s a possibility.” he tells her and she sighs.

“I’ll go back in.” Aaron says and all eyes snap to him.

“What?” Emily asks, “Are you insane?”

“The chance of another bomb going off now is unlikely—”

“But not impossible.” she argues back, “you’re not risking your life for a— a chance that someone is in there.”

“I don’t have a choice.” he tells her, “we all heard that scream, if we do nothing and it turns out she was in there and we could have saved her… would you ever be able to forgive yourself?” he asks the team, each member staying silent.

“You—” Emily tries to argue back, before turning her head to the team, staring at them until they catch on, and slowly walk out of ear shot. “You’re not going in there.”

“I have to—”

“No.” she tells him, “Have someone else to in. Someone from bomb squad. Someone—”

“You know I have to.” he says and she stops talking, looking to the floor as she crosses her arms over herself, looking up slightly when he places a finger under her chin. “I’ll be okay.”

“You can’t die.” she tells him, and he smiles while he nods.

“I won’t.” he assures her, “would it make you feel better if I promised?” he jokes and she rolls her eyes, a smirk growing on her face.

“Do you? Promise?” she questions as she looks at him and he stares back.

“I promise.” he whispers, and she nods, watching with complete terror as he follows a member of bomb squad back into the building.

“He’s going to be fine.” Morgan says, throwing an arm over her shoulder and kissing her temple. “He’s going to be fine.” he repeats, unsure of who he’s trying to convince as Hotch disappears out of eyesight.

She’s being seen by a medic, rolling her eyes at Morgan as he forces the oxygen mask back on her face while wearing his own, muttering something about how if Hotch was here he’d duck tape it to her face when there’s a shout from across the path, men in hazmat suits running towards the building and she swears in that moment she feels her heart stop.

“What—” she mumbles, standing and watching the suited men rush into the building, her heart now hammering against her chest as terror settles into her veins and she’s rushing over to the bomb squad before she even registers that she needs to move.

“What’s going on?” she asks them, her voice laced with fear and worry, her eyes burning into theirs.

“It was a dirty bomb.” he tells her regretfully, knowing full well who went back in, knowing full well who he was to her.

“A dirty—” she inhales, pressing a hand to her stomach as she tries to catch her breath, her heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of her chest.

“You all need to get tested for radiation poisoning but… we’re hopeful that you all got out quick enough for there to be no issues.”

“But what—” she shakes her head, nothing making sense, because this can not be happening. “What about everyone that went back in? How much exposure—” she doesn’t continue, the look in his eye all too familiar, one she’s seen before, one she gives to families when it’s bad news and all she can do is shake her head while she forces herself to try and breathe as her chest feels heavy, fear turning into horror, horror turning into something indescribable, a feeling she’s never felt before and it has her whole body aching with dread. She looks towards the building, can hear the shouts of his and another name she doesn’t recognise echo through the rubble and it has her running, a need to be in there, a need to find him, a need for him to be okay. She barley even knows she’s moving until there’s someone grabbing her waist, lifting her off her feet and turning her around, wrapping her into their arms.

“I can’t let you do that, princess.” Morgan whispers, fighting tooth and nail with her to keep her in his hold, “stop.” he tells her. “stop.” he says again, grabbing her tighter to the point where he knows it has to be hurting her, yet she wont give up, fighting his hold like her life depended on it and he's left with no choice but to let her go, only to grab her shoulders when she turns to move again and make her look at him. "Stop." he tells her again but this time his eyes burn into hers, and the fear that stares back at him almost makes him nauseous.

"Let me go." she tells him, trying to force herself from his hold but he's stronger than her. "Morgan, please." she pleads, "let me go."

"I can't do that." he tells her softly, "you know I can't."

She opens her mouth to speak, a plea on the tip of her tongue but it comes out as an exhale, a small cry at the end of it as she drops her head, covering her face with her hands as she takes deep breaths. She feels herself being pulled into his chest, his hand on the back of her head as he comforts her but its useless and they both know it. There isn't any comfort in a situation like this, how could there be?

He's brought out on a gurney a few moments later, the sound of shouts a few yards away catching her attention and she looks over before taking off in a run, at his side in moments as paramedics in full kits rush to his aid, she can see him looking at her, notices his hand reaching out for her and her heart aches as he grunts in pain, mumbling her name as she's pushed back by paramedics, explanations of how unsafe this is and that unfortunately you can't see him right now, he could have radiation poisoning hitting her ears but none of it registers as she pushes past them, latching his hand with hers as she smiles down at him, ignoring the protests of the paramedics as she follows them into the ambulance only to be stopped before she could get in.

"Agent. You really aren't allowed to be near him without proper—" he starts, but another interrupts.

"He's in a lot of pain, were going to have to knock him out." they explain and the other nods, before looking back at Emily.

"Just—" she starts, "let me sit with him and once he's out I'll go." she bargains and the man sighs. "I was in the building anyway, there a fifty percent chance I have it—"

"Fine." he gives in, and she thanks him before rushing in, sitting at Aaron's side and takes his hand in hers, smiling when he looks at her.

"Hey," he croaks out, "you're okay?"

"I'm okay." she smiles, holding back her tears as she runs a hand through his hair, pushing it from his forehead. "You're okay too." she says, nodding at the paramedic as he readies to put him out. "I love you." she whispers, and the smile on his face has her heart aching in her chest.

"I love you too." he repeats as he falls under, his hand going limp in hers and once his eyes close her head drops, silent cries leaving her body as she squeezes it.

"Agent Prentiss I can't stress this enough, I need you to step out—"

"I know." she sighs sadly, running her hand through his hair once more before existing, sending one last look his way as she watches the door's close.

"Come on." Morgan says, gently pushing her to get her moving, "we have to get to the hospital." she simply nods, lets him lead her to the SUV as her mind runs wild with different outcomes, the sound of the team talking seeming like background noise as she grabs the necklace from around her neck, staring at the ring hooked through it, feeling the future they had planned together slip through her fingers.

Eight Months Ago

She knows something is... off the moment she wakes up to an empty bed, her hand finding a sheet instead of a person. She frowns, looking at the vacant space next to her, she expects to maybe hear him in the shower, but the bedroom and the ensuite are.. silent, something it never is this early in the morning.

That off feeling doesn't fade, it instead increases when she makes her way through the house, stepping into the kitchen to find him turning quickly at the sound of her arrival and ending the call.

"Hey," he smiles, "you're up early." he tells her and she frowns, looking at the clock behind him.

"Its just past nine..." she says suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at him, "its our first day off this month, I expected you to be sleeping in."

"Couldn't sleep." he explains, "Coffee?" he asks and she nods, squinting her eyes at him as he moves around the kitchen; he walks over to her with the cup, smiling at her as he passes it over before catching her lips in his. "Good morning." he whispers against her lips and she smiles.

"Good morning." she whispers, smiling when he kisses her again before wrapping an arm around her waist. "care to share who was on the phone?" she teases, bringing the cup to her lip.

"I—" he begins, but his phone rings again and she smiles, watching through the top of the cup as he sighs, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Chief Strauss," he says and she rolls her eyes, "good morning." he adds but they already know what the conversation is going to be, something about a case, something about them being asked for by name, something that is going to rob them of their day off and so she heads out of the kitchen, sipping her coffee as she walks back into the bedroom.

He comes up behind her a few minuets later while she stands at the sink, wraps his arms around her with his head on her shoulder as they look at each other through the mirror, her head leaning sideways to rest on his.

"Where?" she questions.

"It's local. We can work it from the BAU." he tells her, "the rest of the team have been called as well."

"What's the case?" she asks and he stands, kissing her temple.

"I have no idea." he says, "local PD requested us." she nods, watching him disappear out of the bathroom muttering to himself and she smiles, biting her bottom lip as she wraps herself further into his shirt.

He pushes the dinner forward a week, buries the ring deeper into a draw she's never opened and curses under his breath, laughing because of course this would happen. Nothing about them had ever been easy, why should this be?

He doesn't even think about it, the ring, the proposal... pushes it to the back of his mind and it remains there for almost the entirety of the case, almost...It all happens pretty quickly after that.

She and Morgan are walking through the suspects house, he can hear their voices through their ear pieces and the sound of her voice is soothing as he stands outside, nerves firing through him.

The sound of the gun shot echo's, and everyone stills, waiting, praying for the moment where their friends voices come through the ear piece, but this time the waiting seems longer than it had been before, they seem to be left with silence for minuets rather than mere moments and his nerves turn to terror as he feels the team turn to face him, waiting for their next move, waiting for something. And he's about to speak, about to order them to run in behind him, be prepared for anything, when there's a gasp in his ear, followed by coughs, and harsh wheezes. They can hear Morgan asking Emily if she's okay, can hear the mumble of her reply and the sound of her voice nearly has him dropping to his knees, the feeling of complete relief almost overwhelming as her voice continues to travel to his ear.

Once she's out, he waits until they're out of earshot, out of the teams eye line, and as soon as they are he grabs her, pulling her into his arms and exhaling, the feeling of her relaxing into his hold making his heart melt. She rests her head in his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist and she sighs.

"I'm okay." she whispers and he simply nods, pulling away gently to cup her cheeks, look at her while he smiles. "I'm okay." she says again, taking his hands in her own and slowly pulling them down, "lets go home." she tells him with a smile, lacing her hand into his and laughing when he kisses her temple, before leading the two of them back to the SUVs.

He's still pacing when they get home, always opening his mouth to say something before closing it, only to then start pacing again and after almost an hour she snaps.

"What is wrong with you?" she asks, standing and he turns, facing her with wide eyes. "You've never acted like this before." she tells him, "stop pacing, just... sit." she tells him and he just, looks at her, knowing he should agree, knowing that he is acting strange but... his brain wont stop screaming about that day's events, the way she could have died and she would have never seen the ring, never worn in, never known just how in love with her he was, and he can not sit still. "Aaron, I swear to god—" she starts but he's already pulling the box out of this pocket, the box he put there when they first gotten home over an hour ago, opens it and interrupts her.

"Marry me." he says, and her words stop, her eyes widen and she stares, at him, then at the ring, and then at him again. "I had this plan, we were going to go for dinner and I was going to ask you at the bench, on the park where..." he fades out, before starting again, "but then today you, you got shot and... there was this moment, this long, horrible moment when I thought you were dead and— and all I could think about was how you would never know. Never know how much I love you—" she silences him with a kiss, cupping his face gently as she does, a smile forming as they break apart and she bites her bottom lip, laughing happily as he stares at her with confusion.

"Is that a yes?" he questions, a smirk growing on his face and she laughs, nodding her head as she hooks an arm around the back of his neck and kisses him again.

"Of course I'll marry you." she laughs happily and he smiles, taking the ring out and placing it on her finger before kissing her again, the band a cold but welcome feeling on his cheek as she cups it.

"I love you." he whispers, the feel of her smile against his lips warming his heart.

"I love you too." she tells him.

That night, he reaches over to his night stand and pulls out a necklace, a small charm hanging loosely from it and she sits up from where she rested on his chest.

"What's that?" she asks with a smile and he smirks, grabbing her left hand, the feel of the band on her ring finger making his heart flutter.

"I was thinking... you could hook your ring through it, that way you can wear it on the filed or..." he fades out, looking at her as she smiles. She grabs the necklace gently, staring at the small charm attached to it before her eyes land back on him.

"I love it." she smiles, leaning down to kiss him, "and I love you."

"I love you too." he tells her, tracing a finger down her bare back as she smiles.

She's wearing the ring on the necklace the next day, the sight of her smile as she tucks in under her shirt one he wishes he could imprint behind his eyes and replay forever, a smile he knows he reserved just for him.

They're all tested for radiation before they're allowed to step foot in the building, all scattered close by each other as they wait, as do many others. Each member of the team watching Emily from the corner of their eye as she leans against the door of their SUV, twisting the ring in her finger as she stares at it, wiping her tears.

"Has she said anything?" JJ asks Morgan when he comes up beside her, running a hand over his head.

"No," he tells her, "I don't—" he starts but stops himself, sighing with a shake of his head, "someone needs to call Haley..."

"I think Dave's already on it." she tells him, nodding her head towards the older man as he speaks on the phone a few yards away. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, under the circumstances." he says, "I think we all probably got out in time."

"If Aaron —" she starts, but he wont listen.

"I can't think about that." he tells her, casting his eyes to Emily again, "it will destroy her."

JJ doesn't have the opportunity to answer, a doctor heading their way.

"You're all clear." he tells them, "Agent Hotchner is still being seen to, but you're welcome to sit in the waiting area. I will come and get you the moment I know anything."

They thank him, a small, sad smile on their faces as they follow behind him into the hospital and Spencer turns, meeting Emily's eye as she trails behind them and he takes her hand and smiles when she accepts it.

"He's okay." he tells her, but they both know he can't be sure of that.

"Yeah." she whispers, following the team into the hospital, glancing once again to the necklace that rests in her palm, her ring feeling heavier than it usually does.

The wait seems like days as they sit there, each one coping differently. Spencer sits next to Emily, watching her closely as she stares ahead, her expression completely blank as her mind continues to run wild, JJ and Penelope sit across from her, the two blonde women ready to be there for whatever she needs should something happen, Dave leans against the wall, silent prayers leaving his mouth and Derek paces, the sound of his steps the only sound in the room.

"Will you sit down?" Emily snaps after a few more minuets and the man stops, turning his head to her, "you're making me dizzy."

"Yeah," he says gently, taking a seat next to Reid, "sorry."

Emily sighs, dropping her head forward and she's just about to apologise for snapping when a doctor finally appears.

"How is he?" Dave asks instantly as the doctor stands in front of them, and the look on her face has Emily turning around, a hand over her mouth as she exhales a shaky breath, a hand falling to her stomach as it turns violently, horror feeling like a brick in her gut.

"We did everything we could." she tells them once Emily turns to face her again, "we tried every antibiotic, tried every fluid... he was exposed for too long, there is nothing we can do. I'm sorry."

"What—" Emily says, clearing her throat, "what now?"

"We make him as comfortable as possible, keep him on a high dose of morphine for the next few hours, he will become short of breath, he'll have a high fever, he'll be nauseous... he'll be in a lot of pain." she tells her sadly, her tone full of regret and remorse.

"How long?" Emily asks her, and the woman sighs.

"I can't say for sure, some last a few hours, some a few days." she tells her, before sighing, "he currently has a high fever, he's on a morphine drip right now and is being filled with fluids. He had a high exposure to the radiation... I don't see him lasting the weekend." she tells her gently.

Emily inhales, clutching the ring that is back around her neck as she inhales, short, harsh breaths leaving her chest as she walks backwards.

"Can we see him?" Dave asks her.

"You can see him, yes, but I'm afraid you can't enter the room, there is a intercom on the wall, you can stay as long as you like."

"But we can't see him?" Derek asks and the doctor nods.

"No, I'm sorry..." she says, "If you'll excuse me." she tells them, sending them a sad smile before walking away, leaving them to process the news.

Everyone remains still, taking in the information, trying to understand it, no one hears footsteps heading towards them, and it's a small voice that breaks their trance.

"Where's daddy?" Jack asks them, resting on his mother's hips as she stands in front of them, and it isn't until Haley meets Emily eyes, sees the grief and heartbreak that stares back at her that it hits her.

"No..." she says, shaking her head, "he—"

"Why don't I take Jack?" JJ offers, smiling as the boy goes gently into her arms. She tilts her head for the team to follow, leaving the two women to talk.

"How long?" Haley asks her when its just two of them and Emily shakes her head, forcing herself to swallow the lump in her throat.

"They don't know." she tells her, "could be hours, could be days but they—" she stops, "they don't see him lasting longer than the weekend."

"Oh my g—" her words trail off, a hand coming over her mouth as she takes in Emily's words. "Where... where is he?" she asks.

"The ICU." Emily tells her, "you can't go in the room but there's an... intercom, outside." she says, "Jack should see him, if you —" but she doesn't continue, she can't, the pain in her chest becoming overwhelming.

"Yeah." Haley whispers, turning to look at her son as he smiles, oblivious to what is going on around him. "I'm sorry." she tells her and Emily looks up. "You're loosing the man you love and.. I'm sorry."

"Me too." Emily smiles sadly, "Excuse me." she says, passing her quickly and heading down the hall, out of sight as soon as she turns the corner and Haley puts on a smile and heads back to her son.

"I'm... going to take him to see Aaron." she tells the team, "one of you should go and find Emily." she tells them and Derek nods, already stepping to the side to pass her.

"He'll be breathless, he might have a fever but... he should see him." Reid tells her, "Before its too late."

Haley nods, stroking her sons cheek as she turns to smile at him, holding back her own tears for the sake of their child.

"You want to see Daddy?" she asks and the boy smiles, nodding his head. "Okay, come on." she says and they follow his doctor towards the ICU.

Derek finds her leaning on the wall, the back of her head resting against it as she closes her eyes, forces herself to keep breathing even though her heart feels like its going to snap inside of her chest.

"Haley took Jack to see him." he tells her, "you should go and see him to."

"How is this happening?" she asks him after a few moments, her voice small and broken, a sound he's never heard from her before and he hates it. Her eyes scream how much pain she's in, the tear falling down her cheek making him feel sick and he can only imagine how heartbroken she is, the thought of it being Spencer making his body recoil.

"I don't know, princess." he whispers, gently pulling her into his chest. "I'm sorry." he tells her gently, placing a kiss onto her head, feeling his heart physically shatter when her body rakes with sobs, the sound of them like a twist of a knife to his gut and all he can do is hold her tighter, knowing the one thing she needs is the one thing he can't give her...

a future with the man she loves.

Wiping her tears she heads down the hall, slowing her steps when she hears Jack talking to his father through the intercom, a small laugh leaving his body as he speaks. She smiles sadly at Haley when the woman turns, crossing her arms over herself as though she could protect herself from the inevitable. From the heartbreak, the loss, the grief that already felt like it was consuming her.

"Say goodbye," Haley whispers to her son, keeping her voice soft to avoid the crack and Jack smiles, waving at his father from the other side of the door, a sad goodbye daddy sounding more final than it ever should coming from such a young boy.

She stops in front of the other woman, Jack giving her a small wave as he rests his head on his mothers shoulder, a wave she gives back with a smile, the one he reciprocates reminding her of his father and her heart feel heavy, as she looks away.

"He..." Haley says, "he doesn't look good, Emily." she tells the other woman. "I think the weekend is a bit... out of reach." she whispers and all Emily can do is nod, taking a deep breath as she looks to the floor.

"Will you call me?" Haley asks, and she looks up, "when it happens? I don't want to hear it from Dave or... Morgan while they act like they get it..." she explains with such a sad tone that it almost has her dropping to the floor.

"Of course," she tells her, "I get that." she nods, and Haley smiles.

"Bye Emmy," Jack says softly as Haley begins walking off.

"Bye," she smiles at the boy, waving slightly as he looks at her other his mothers shoulder as they head out of view.

She clears her throat, taking a few breaths before she heads over to his room, she knew there is no way to prepare herself for this but the sight of him attached to wires, his body shivering as sweat pumps off him, his violent coughs forcing his body to recoil forward is an image she knows will haunt her forever.

"Hey..." she says through the intercom with a smile and he turns to her, a smile growing on his own face when he see's her, no longer scrunched in pain but, happy, light.

"Hi," he smiles, "how are you feeling?" he asks her and she laughs, truly laughs for the first time in over three hours and raises an eyebrow at him.

"How am I feeling?" she laughs, "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"I suppose," He smirks, before looking at her, "you're okay?" he asks and she swallows, nodding her head as she tries to remain smiling.

"I'm okay." she tells him, "are you?"

"I am now." he smiles, "Emily I—" he starts, before his body recoils forward, harsh chokes coming from his chest as he gasps for air and she's being moved out of the way before she can even process what's happening, can only watch as doctors in full protective gear rush into the room, her back hitting the wall with force as she continues to back up.

"What happened?" Reid asks as the team head over to her, she just shakes her head.

"I—," she starts, "I don't know." she tells them, her eyes not leaving the room even as the curtains close, blocking him from view.

"Agent Prentiss?" someone says a moment later, everyone's head turning towards them. "May I talk with you for a moment?"

The woman just nods, pushing herself of the wall, she follows the doctor down the hall, taking one last look at the closed off room before turning a corner towards the doctors office.

As she takes a seat the doctor smiles at her, an uneasy feeling in her stomach increasing as she looks at her.

"What's going on?" she asks apprehensively, "I need to—"

"I understand you are Agent Hotchners fiancée... I'll make this as quick as I can I know this can not be easy."

"What?" she asks, her stomach clenching with nerves.

"Something came up on your tests, something you aren't probably aware of yet." she tells her, "You're pregnant, Agent Prentiss." she says after a few moments, and Emily freezes, taking a breath.

"I'm sorry?" she asks, "What do you mean I'm— No.." she stutters, her mind working overtime as she tries to understand, tries to take in the entire day's events on top of the news she's being given. "What?"

"About three weeks, I would say. Very, very early on, I figure you wouldn't have even realised a change in cycle yet." she tells her, "I understand this is tough news given the circumstances and you do have options.."

"Options?" Emily asks, "I—" she stops, "Pregnant?" she questions.

"Yes." the doctor tells her, handing her a sheet with a handful of different results on it and she inhales as she see's it, the bold positive across from the word pregnant, and her world shifts, she feels it. "I know this isn't ideal and.. I am sorry." she says but Emily remains silent, "Take a few days, think about things. I can only imagine how difficult this must be."

"Yeah," she whispers, looking back at the doctor, "I have— I have to go." she says, standing, her mind scattered as her world flips around her, nothing feeling real.

"Of course," she says, handing her a card, "Please, if you need anything, if you need to discuss options, call me."

"Okay." Emily says, taking the card and with that leaves the room, pushing the piece of paper into her back pocket as she heads down the hall and back to the team. Back to Aaron. Her dying fiancée. The father of her child. The dying father of her child.

A child she isn't even sure she wants. A child they've barley even spoken about.

Four months ago

They're watching Jack and Henry laugh together in the living room, the team scattered around JJ's house when he says it.

"Do you want any?" he asks, placing an arm over her shoulder, lacing his fingers through hers as they reach for them.

"What? Kids?" she questions, turning her head to face him and he nods. "I... I've never really thought about it." she tells him honestly, having pushed the options of kids far from her mind after getting out of Interpol.

"You're great with Jack." he tells her with a smile, her own forming on her face as she looks towards him, his laugh echoing around the room as he runs from Morgan. "I'm not saying you have to decide right now but... we should definitely talk about it."

"Sure." she smiles, trying to ignore the feeling of fear as it creeps into her gut, the thought of bringing a child into the world knowing what their job entails, knowing that her past is brutal and could return at any moment, knowing she has no idea how to be a mother, never really having one herself.

"It's okay if you dont—"

"Can we talk about it later?" she interrupts, smiling sadly as she looks at him.

"Yeah." he tells her, kissing her temple before turning to the happy shouts of Jack, his smile wide and she has to look away, the idea that she might be the reason he doesn't have anymore feeling like a brick in her stomach.

They never do manage to talk about it again, it lingers, whenever he watches her with Jack and she can almost hear the words on the tip of his tongue but he never says them, choosing instead to let her be the one to start the conversation, but she never does, knowing that when she ultimately decides that she can't, that she wont be a mother, she's forcing him into that decision to, one where he never gets to have another child, and the fear that he'll leave her, the option of more children important to him, silences her every time.

The piece of paper that sits in her back pocket, the object another reminder that her whole life is going to change, has her dropping to the floor, her back against the wall as she throws her head forward, crying into her hands, and it dawns on her, that Aaron is dying, that the future she had planned was gone, a mere almost that she will think about for the rest of her life and as she cries, she thinks about all the times she could have spoken to him about their kid and never did, and now has to decide whether to share the news with him that there is a child, their child, his child, but one he will never meet.

That hurts more that the idea of him leaving her ever did.

It's Reid who finds her, she'd been sat there awhile, the cries had turned silent, her head leaning against the wall as she stares at the one opposite, the piece of paper dangling loosely in her hands as well as the necklace, the ring swinging side to side. Tears continue to fall down her face, the waterworks non stop as the information, her new reality, starts to overwhelm her.

"Hey." he says softly, coming up to the side of her. "He's okay." he tells her and she drops her head, a short sob leaving her body. He sits down next to her, looks at her as his head rests on the wall. "We were worried, when you didn't come back."

"Sorry," she says quietly, lifting her head back to the wall as she sighs, not even bothering to wipe the tears that wont stop anyway. "I just... needed a minute."

"Is everything okay?" he asks her and she laughs, because, what a stupid question. "I mean, I know it's not, but—" he says quickly, "What did the doctor say, is what I meant."

She sighs before looking at him, the worry that stares back at her making her smile sadly, and she hands him the paper, turning away, unable to look at the way his eye's widen as he reads it.

"Em.. I—" he stops, shaking his head, this is cruel.

"I don't know what to do." she whispers, wiping her cheeks with both hands as she sighs, "I don't even know if I should tell him."

"I'm sorry." he whispers because its all he can say, there are no words for a situation like this. "I didn't know you guys were trying." he says almost uncomfortably and she chuckles at that while she shakes her head.

"We weren't," she says, "I mean.. we were... but we weren't—"

"I got it." he stops her, a frown on his face as he shakes the mental image from his mind, a smile forming when she laughs. "I don't have an answer, for if you should tell him... I think—" he stops, placing his hand in hers, "I think you need to decide this on your own."

"It feels cruel, to tell him about a child he'll never meet," she says as she takes his hand, "I don't even know if I... I don't know." she sighs sadly.

"Do you want to keep it?" he asks her.

"I don't know." she says again, the three words falling off her tongue more in the last day than she thinks it ever has before. "If he was alive, if he'd be here, then, maybe but..." she tails off, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry." he repeats, "for all of it."

"Me too." she says, turning to the sound of footsteps.

"He's asking for you." Morgan tells her, walking over and helping the two of them of the ground, "What's that?" he asks regarding the paper still in Spencer's hand.

"Nothing," he tells him, "Just the test results." he smiles and Morgan accepts it, lacing his hand through his free one; As the three are walking, Emily smiles gratefully at the young genius, taking the paper back slyly and putting it back in her pocket, telling herself she can deal with it later, but she knows if she wants to tell him, it has to be soon.

He smiles when he see's her through the door, a soft, but happy hi on his lips.

"How are you feeling?" she asks him, her own soft smile on her face.

"I'm okay," he tells her, but she can see right through it, the frown lines on his face, the harsh breaths he takes, he's in pain and it kills her. "No one could find you, said you had to...something about a doctor?" his words don't make sense, another hint to her that he's in more pain than he's letting on, but she lets him, able to give him just this one thing. Let him comfort her.

"Just something about the tests," she says, "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" he asks her, worry in his eyes.

"I'm okay," she tells him, "I—" she stops, clenching her jaw as she looks down, refusing to let herself cry in front of him. "I wish I could be in there."

"I know," he replies gently, "me too." There's a sadness in his eye, and it hits her then, that he knows he's dying to, that just as she is feeling their future slip away, so he is. He knows he'll never see his son grow up, never grow old, never meet his grandchildren, and it makes her feel sick, that he's aware of it, that he's grieving for everything he'll lose just as much as they are. And the thought of adding more to that, the thought of telling him that their having a baby just for him to know about another thing he will never meet, never watch grow up, just feels selfish.

"What is it?" he asks her and she snaps her head back up, smiling as she wipes her tears and shakes her head.

"Nothing." she whispers, "I just..."

"Yeah, I know," he whispers back, "I should have listened to you, you are always right after all." he teases, and she laughs.

"You're just now releasing this?" she jokes.

"Hm," he smirks, "I guess I've always—" he's interrupted by a series of harsh coughs, his breaths very few in between as he chokes and she hates that she can't be in there, that she can't rub his back and whisper your okay for just the little bit of comfort that he deserves. He leans back as his catches his breath, a mixture of exhaustion, high doses of morphine and death pulling him down, his eyes closing slightly.

"Get some rest." she tells him, "I'll be right here."

"I love you," he mumbles as he looks at her through thin eyes, his pale skin covered in sweat as he shivers.

"I love you too." she smiles, waiting for him to succumb to sleep before she lets her smile drop and the tears fall, allowing herself to be pulled into familiar arms as they wrap around her.

"I got you," Morgan whispers, holding back his own tears for her, for Hotch, for them. "I got you, princess." he says again, rubbing a hand down her back as she cries..

It happens that day, four hours later.

She isn't even with him, when it begins, she's in the waiting room, staring once again at the piece of paper, her brain working overtime to try and process it, to try and figure out if telling him is selfish and cruel, or if not telling him is selfish and cruel, the argument feeling loud in her head.

It's Morgan who comes to get her, his face full of devastation as she looks up and it makes her heart fall, the paper forgotten and falling to the floor when she stands, before rushing past him, not noticing him go to pick it up.

"Agent Prentiss—" The doctor starts as Emily reaches the room, "You—"

"I need to be in there." she tells her, her heart hammering in her chest, the thought of him dying alone making her want to drop to her knees.

"I'm afraid you can't—" she starts but she wont accept it, already charging past her, and neither the team or the doctors are able to stop her as she barges past them all, working on her need to see him, to tell him, to be there making her stronger than them all combined and she's through the door in less than thirty seconds, the sound of it shutting behind her louder than intended, and everyone jumps.

"She can't be in there—" one starts, already moving to forcibly remove her from the room but Dave steps forward.

"She's already in there, you wont get her out."

"It's against all procedure, she could—"

"She's already in there." he tells them again, "It's too late."

"What are the chances of her getting it? If she stays with him?" JJ asks.

"Ten, maybe fifteen percent." they tell her, "But—"

"She'll sign the forms, say she went in their against orders. Just, let her be with him, don't make her watch him die alone." Penelope says from her sheet on the chairs.

"It gets worse," Morgan says as he walks up to them, passing the paper to JJ as she reaches for it.

"Oh... my god." she sighs sadly, fresh tears forming in her eyes.

"What?" Dave asks, everyone's eyes on the paper.

"She's pregnant." JJ tells them, and the area goes silent as they look towards the room, each one feeling stuck as they watched Emily close the curtains.

He turns to the door when it shuts and his eye's widen when he see's her, his hand already reaching for her on instinct.

"What are you doing in here?" he asks, his voice breathless, "You—"

"Don't worry," she tells him, "You're not radio active." she teases, the white lie feeling like the right decision when he visibly relaxes, reaching out his hand for her again, she takes it with a smile. He moves over, tapping the new space with a puppy dog look and she laughs, rolling her eyes as she sits, before moving herself to lay on her side, his body slotting perfectly in her arms as she runs a hand down his cheek, the other clasped in the one that rests in the middle of them.

"Jack likes you," he tells her, his tone soft, but breathy and harsh, and she closes her eyes, preparing herself for him getting ready to go. "You should stay, in his life. Haley could... find it useful, and he'd like to see you sometimes."

"I will," she tells him, running a hand through his hair, "I promise."

"I'm sorry," he says after a few moments, "for going back into the building, for—"

"Shh," she silences him, shaking her head, "this isn't your fault."

"If I—"

"You saved that little girl, " she tells him, "You did the right thing. It's okay." she whispers, lifting her hand from his to cup his cheek, make her look at him. "I'm proud of you." she smiles, and he laughs, a slight cough following and she runs a thumb over his cheek.

"I really wanted to marry you." he tells her, reaching for the ring around her neck. "I always imagined we would just get home after a tough case, go to city hall..." he smiles, his eye's brightening when he see's hers, the happy laugh that leaves her throat still making his heart flutter, even now. "I was thinking we... would go to Europe for our honeymoon, you'd, take me to all your favourite places..."

"That sounds nice." she whispers, "We would have gone to Paris first." she tells him, "Then Italy... maybe Rome or.. Florence, depending on the time of year."

"Definitely spring." he smirks, their happy laughs making it seem like its pillow talk, like its something they can plan, and not something that went from future to fantasy in less than twenty four hours.

"Spring?" she smiles, "Then Florence," she tells him, running her fingers through his hair as he goes lighter in her arms, his breaths becoming more and more uneven while he places his hand in hers on his cheek, bringing it to his lips that linger for a moment.

She knows it now or never, telling him or remaining quiet, letting them bask in the bubble of what if— but the thought of him never knowing, the idea that if she kept them, she would have to live with the fact she never gave him a chance to know they exist has her stomach knotting, the feeling of regret already to heavy.

"I have to tell you something." she whispers, "I— it seems selfish, to tell you but I—"

"What?" he asks softly, lacing their fingers together on his still beating chest.

She looks at him for a moment, the words unable to come out of her mouth.

"Em.. sweetheart, what is it?" he asks her.

She closes her eyes, shaking her head as she drops it slightly, squeezing his hand before looking at him.

"I'm pregnant." she whispers, so quiet that if the room wasn't as silent as it was, he wouldn't have heard her. "I— Just found out a few hours ago and its.. early, like, three weeks and— I didn't know if I should tell you because it seems so... cruel, because—" she rambles, taking a pause to look at him, "I don't know what to do." she tells him, her voice broken, "about any of this."

He lifts his hand, cupping her cheek softly as he wipes her tears, before placing a soft kiss on her lips, one that he puts all of his feelings into, a fear that it could be his last.

"You do what you think is best." he whispers against her lips, their foreheads resting together, "I'm sorry—" she silences him with another soft, sweet kiss.

"I love you." she whispers, their tears joining as one, "I—"

"I know," he smiles, pulling away from her slowly, resting his head back on the pillow as he looks at her. "I love you too." he tells her, "so much."

He's fading out, she can hear it in his breathing, in the way his eye's are closing more frequently, in the way his muscles feel light against her.

She runs her thumb over his cheek again, a smile on her face as she tangles their bodies together, wanting to remain as close to him as possible for the short time they had left.

"I'm sorry I wont be there, for whatever you decide." he chokes out, his voice rough with less air meeting his lungs, an almost gasp for air in his tone. "I know you never really knew if you wanted it—"

"It's okay." she smiles, nodding her head while she holds her tears back, "I'm glad you kissed me in your office that time." she teases, reminding them both of just how far they had come since that first kiss almost three years ago and his laugh has her smiling, finding some happiness in their last moments.

"Me too," he tells her, "I'm glad you showed up at my apartment the week after to shout at me for it."

"It felt justified at the time," she jokes, pushing some hair from his head as he sweats, when a violent shiver making his way through his body she holds him closer, smiling when their faces line up on the pillow. "It's okay." she nods, her voice delicate as she swallows the lump in her throat.

His breathing shallows out, the shivers stopping as he looks at her.

"Thank you for loving me," she whispers to him, the crack in her voice nothing compared to the one in her chest.

"Thank you for letting me." he smirks, allowing them one more happy laugh before he stops fighting, letting the exhaustion in, letting it take over.

"I love you." she tells him; then he's gone, the last thing he ever hears a declaration of love he'd never been in doubt of.

He's gone before her sobs take over, and in the end she's grateful for that.

She doesn't know how long she stays in there, clinging to him as she sobs, unable to accept that he's truly gone, knowing the moment she lets go, the moment she stands and leaves the room, that it's real. That she'll never see him again, never come home and be able to fall easily into his arms on the couch, or smile as she watches him attempt to do a household chore, never hear him laugh at his own jokes or feel his hands in hers, never again feel loved by him, unsure if she would ever feel love again. But she knows she has to, has to leave the room, step back into reality, her new reality, a life without him; She detangles herself from him, looks at him once more placing a kiss on his forehead. She wipes her tears, steps off the bed and heads for the door, hesitating for a moment, letting herself take a breath, letting herself be alone in her grief before she has to take on everyone else's.

As soon as she opens the door, everyone stands, looking at her with pity as she closes it, the click of the door sounding like an ending to a life she thought she would have.

"Em—" JJ starts heading towards her but the woman holds out her hand, stopping her in her tracks.

"I have to call Haley." she says in a voice she doesn't even recognise, a voice that's quiet but harsh, almost like she had swallowed razor blades.

"I can do that." Dave says, taking a step towards her, but she shakes her head, stepping away from him.

"No, she—" she stops, inhaling a breath as closes her eyes, leaning her head on the door as dizziness over takes her, feeling too much but nothing at all all at once. "I have to do it." she tells him.

"Emily—" JJ says softly, "really, let them do it, you've been through a lot and—"

"Agent Prentiss," a doctor say's as they come around the corner, "I'm sorry for your loss." he tells her and she just stares at him, "you need to come with me, you needed to be tested for—"

"I have to make a phone call." she says, already trying to walk away but he stops her, a soft hand on her arm and she spins. "What—"

"You really need to have another test done, just to be safe." he tells her, "you can take the call from the room. I understand there may be a few you need to make under the circumstances."

"I—" she starts, before giving up, letting herself be lead by him.

"I'll stay." Morgan says to the team, "Go, see your family, get some air."

"He's really dead..." Garcia whispers.

"Yeah," he sighs, "You'll inform Strauss?" he asks Dave, who just simply nods his head. None of them move, their eye's remaining on the window, the knowledge of what is behind the closed curtains enough to have each one of them nauseous.

She make's the call while she waits for the results, holds back her own sobs as she listen's to Haley's.

"I'd like to help with... planning the funeral?" she asks quietly, "I know I'm—"

"Of course," Emily says, "He's the father of your child. You get a say."

"Thank you." the other woman whispers, "I'm so sorry, Emily."

She inhales, pressing her ring into her hand. "Me too."

The entrance of the doctor has her ending the call.

"You're all clear," she smiles, "I hear you're pregnant." she adds, a sad smile on her face, "I assume congratulations is the wrong word."

"Yeah," she says quietly, still processing that fact, still unsure on what she's going to do and still refusing to think about it. "I'm free to go?"

"Yes," she smiles, "I would like you to come back in six weeks if you decide to keep the baby, just to make sure everything is okay before—"

"Sure," Emily smiles, "Thanks." and she's out of the room.

She excepts to find one or two of her friends stood there, outside the room her dead fiancée lay in until he was cleared for transport, and is shocked to find all five of them.

"Hey," JJ says, smiling at her friend, "Everything okay?"

She simply nods, "I—" she starts but, stops, having no idea what to say, what to do, taken over by a sort of trance, her whole body feeling numb.

"You can stay with me and Will, if you want." JJ offers, "Don't feel like you have to go home until you're ready."

"Thanks," she smiles, "But I just... I need to." she says, nodding her head.

"I'll drive you," Dave tells her, shaking his head when she goes to decline. "You're in no state to drive and even if you were, you don't have a car."

"Okay," she says, noticeably avoiding looking at the door of the room. "Thanks."

It takes them all a few moments, but eventually they make their way from the hospital, each one buried in a mixture of their own heartbreak, and the heartbreak on behalf of Emily.

"Call me if you need anything." JJ tells her, and she nods, before following beside Dave as he heads to the car.

They're riding in silence for almost ten minuets when he speaks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.

"About what?" she says, closing her eyes as she swallows the bile in her throat.

"Any of it. Aaron, the baby..."

Her eyes snap open, turning her head to face him. "What—"

"You dropped it," he tells her, "The paper. Morgan picked it up."

She doesn't speak, instead turns to look at the road.

"Do you know what you're going to do?"

"No." she says, picking at the skin around her fingers.

"Well, whatever you decide. We're all here for you." he tells her and she gives him a small smile before letting them fall back into silence, quickly wiping a tear that falls down her cheek.

"You didn't have to walk me up." she tells him, unlocking the door.

"Yes I did." he tells her and she rolls her eyes, forcing the door open as she holds her breath, but nothing could have prepared her for it. For the way his cup from that morning was still on the living room table, the newspaper he was reading discarded as though he thought he'd be picking it back up when he got home tonight. Throwing her bag onto the table next to the door she catches sight of his coat, one he'd worn the previous weekend when they went out with Jack. There was a picture of the three of them just on the counter ahead of her and she almost wants to throw it at the wall but instead, heads further into the house, turning to face Dave when she reached the middle of the living room.

"You really don't need to stay," she tells him, "I... want to be alone..."

"Of course," he nods, "If you need anything."

"I'll call you." she finishes with a small smile, and he accepts it, leaving with a smile of his own and once the door shuts, she inhales, forcing herself to walk into the bedroom, her eyes landing on the bed, their bed, his white t-shirt still in a ball on the bed from where he'd thrown it at her that morning after getting back from his run, she can still hear their laughter, as though their happiness haunts the now silent house. Without the energy to even get undressed, she climbs into the bed, the scent of him overclouding her as she lays her head into his pillow, fresh tears rolling down her eyes and she turns, lays on her back with her eyes to the celling and she places her hand on her flat stomach.

"I don't know what to do," she whispers, before letting herself cry once more, accepting her new reality, one where she no longer has him, one where he no longer exists.

His funeral is small, the team, Haley and Jack, his brother and some other people he met during his time at the FBI.

It remains a blur, the service, the burial, the speeches, all of it, similar to the three weeks leaning up to it, it all merges together.

Haley finds her at the wake, hiding in Dave's overly large kitchen picking at a piece of bread, the selection of food making her nauseous.

"Hey," the blonde woman says, apologising when the other startles before turning. "How are you?"

"Getting by," she smiles, placing the plate on the counter, "How are you? How's Jack?"

"I think... he finally accepts it," she says sadly, "He said goodnight to him while looking up at the sky last night, which was..." she trails off, shaking her head as tears well in her eyes. "But we'll get through it. We all will."

Emily can only smile, scared that if she spoke, she'd cry.

"Have you made a decision?" Haley asks quietly, casting an eye to her still flat stomach when Emily frowns.

"What—" she questions, "How do you know?"

"I've been pregnant with a Hotchner baby," she smiles, "I know the signs." she adds and Emily looks down, overwhelmed by a feeling of complete jealousy, can't help the way it rises up in her as she realises Haley got the pregnancy experience she would kill for. One shared with a man she loved. The very same man who should have been here, with her. And Haley realises her mistake the moment her head drops.

"God, Emily, I'm... I'm sorry, that was... I—"

"It's fine." she smiles, looking up again, "But, no, I haven't." she tells her.

"Whatever you decide, I want you to know that.. I want you in Jacks life." she says, "He loves you and..." she stops, "I'd like to be apart of your... their life, should you decide to keep it. For you. For Jack. Aaron isn't here but.. It's still Jack's sibling and they should have a family. You both should." she tells her, smiling at the woman as she looks at her, "No matter what you decide, you're not alone, Emily. You'll always have a place in Jack's life... In our life."

She's silent for a moment, before she reaches for the blondes hand, squeezing it gently, "Thank you." she whispers.

"How far along are you?"

"I don't know, five, maybe six weeks."

"If you need someone to talk to about this, I'm a phone call away."

"I know," she smiles, "Thank you."

The blonde woman walks around, gently pulling her into her arms.

"You're not alone, Emily." she tells her, "And your baby won't be either."

"I don't know what to do." she whispers, and Haley pulls back, looking at her new friend.

"You do what's best for you, what you can handle." she tells her, "But what you have inside you is the last little bit of Aaron we have, and I don't want you to make a rash decision only to regret it later on." she whispers, "You have a few weeks, and I'm here, the team is here, and we will respect whatever decision you make. But were also here to listen, to advice, whatever you need."

"Thank you," Emily whispers, "I— thank you." is all she can say, and Haley smiles, before Jack calls her and she's gone.

She watches Haley and Jack from the corner of the room, wonders if she can do it, be a mother, raise a child, but then Jack smiles at her, a smile that is all Hotchner and the idea that there is one more part of Aaron left here, one last little bit of them, she thinks that maybe she can, maybe this baby is what was going to save her from suffocating in her unbearable grief.

nine months later

She stops the car on the path, taking a deep breath as she looks ahead at the graveyard, reaching for the ring that rests on her chest as she exhales before getting out of the car. She grabs them from the back sheet, shifts them nicely into her arms and walks over slowly, the route to his grave stone now muscle memory, having done it so many times.

“Hey.” she says gently, looking down at the stone, smiling at the fresh flowers that sit there, each selection a different type from a different person. “I know it’s been a few weeks but…” she bends down slowly, shifting her arms slightly. “I was doing a thing.” she smirks, looking at the one month old in her arms.

“She has your eyes,” she says, “your nose to.” she adds, smiling at her daughter as she grabs her hands forward at the grave. “Say hi daddy,” Emily coo’s, another whisper of hi leaving her lips as her daughter babbles.

“I’ll bring her, as much as I can.” she says, “She’ll know you through me, through Haley, I’m sure Jack has a few stories to.” she looks at the stone sadly, “You should have been here,” she whispers, clearing her throat as tears well put in her eyes, smiling when their daughter reaches out to touch the stone, turning to look at her with eyes that make her heart warm, eyes that remind her of Aaron.

you should have been here remains a constant thought throughout every mile stone, forever a space in their life where he should have been.

A void they never fill.

fin

#hotchniss fic #hotchniss #tw / bomb #tw / radiation #tw / slight connotation to abortion #tw / sad lmfaoo #this is all m’s fault #don’t even blame me #not even my fault i wasn’t even going to write this she forced my hand ✋🏻✋🏻#aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #criminal minds fic

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rrandomtthings · 4 years ago

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Bakugou Katsuki and his development throughout the series (Part 1 of 2)

His fall

Note: none of this is excusing things Bakugou has done in the past. He was completely in the wrong for that. Explanations ≠ Justifications.

There will be no manga spoilers in this part, but in part 2 there will be!!

Part two link: (will be added)

Bakugou Katsuki is a very hit or miss kind of character. He is brash, loud, and everything in between. If that is not your type of character, then the chances of you liking him are very low. Hence why his character has been deemed as very controversial.

Not to mention, Bakugou was a bully.

The first scene of the series starts with younger Bakugou bullying a kid with younger Midoriya Izuku, his childhood friend, protecting said kid. This is the first impression that we are given of not only Bakugou as a character, but as society as whole.

People are not created equal

As we continue through the beginning of the series, we find out that Bakugou was a huge bully, especially towards Izuku. With the two being childhood friends, they were really close when they were younger, as they were shown to hang out relatively often.

However, as soon as Bakugou got his quirk things changed for the worse.

It’s important to recognize what quirks mean to hero society. The better your quirk is, the more you’re looked up to. The worse your quirk is, the more you’re looked down upon. This is something that has been ingrained in children at the young age of 4, when they receive said quirks.

Bakugou was born with the jackpot quirk of Explosions while Izuku was born with nothing.

From the young age of 4, your place in society has already been drilled in.

Continuing on from when they were just children, Bakugou already having his quirk and Deku still not knowing what his is (at this point Izuku didn’t get himself checked out), the two head to a lake with their friends. Bakugou, having the best quirk out of all of them and being the “leader” as they walk on a log and he falls off and into the river underneath them, his friends watching as he falls in the water, expecting him to get up all on his own because of the power he holds.

All except one.

In this moment, because of societal standards, Bakugou was expected (even by himself) to be able to get up on his own after that fall. Seeing someone like Izuku, who he calls “Deku,” which to him literally means “worthless,” who is seen as weak and not-powerful by societal standpoints wanting to help someone as powerful as Katsuki, it made Bakugou feel like Deku was looking down on him.

He refused Dekus hand, he refused Dekus friendship. He didn’t like that this “attitude” that Izuku had that Katsuki was so unfamiliar with.

As years go on we are not informed about how consistent Katsukis bullying was towards Izuku. We can only assume that it was something that was somewhat common, however that is only an assumption. This is not canon.

One day, Izuku gets outed out by his teacher about wanting to attend UA. This being Katsukis dream school, it’s interesting to note that while everyone in class was laughing at Izuku, Bakugou was not.

Almost as if he considered Deku, “a quirkless nobody,” a threat.

However, he took that threat and turned it around and bullied Izuku for it, leading to the infamous “swan dive” scene where Bakugou tells Izuku to khs.

This is arguably the worst, if not one of the worst things that have been shown that Katsuki has done. As mentioned at the top of this post, there is no justification for this. Bakugou was completely in the wrong. Just because he felt threatened does not in any way shape or form excuse the way he treated Izuku, especially in this scene.

Then, the sludge villain attack happens.

Here, Bakugou is shown to be in a vulnerable state as he is being consumed by the sludge villain. After Izuku comes in and save him, it is said that Katsuki had’nt bullied him since.

Now Bakugou is in UA. He was used to being the highest of the food chain. Being at the top of everyone so easily. However, when he entered UA, reality hit him like a ton of bricks after realizing that he is not special.

Starting off with one of the most prominent fights, Deku vs Kacchan (1).

The teams are Deku & Ochako (the heroes) vs Iida and Bakugou (the villains) as they fight with each other with their own respective tasks.

Throughout the fight however, even though they were in teams, it was mainly Deku vs Kacchan (as the title suggests.)

In this fight, we see Bakugou at a bit of a breaking point. He practically panics as he comes to a realization that this kid infront of him who he thought always looked down on him could possibly be on the same level as him. To him, the “worthless Deku” was starting to shine through and past the negative connotations of that name.

After he aimed his quirk towards Izuku (NOTE: in this scene he did not try and kill Izuku. He even states that he purposely aimed away so it wouldn’t harm him. However, this is still not an excuse) and saw that Izuku did and could take him after he had one, Bakugou went into full panic mode.

Note: it’s also important to recognize that he showed fear for Deku. He was scared to see how far he was willing to go.

Later on, we are shown Deku spilling the beans to Katsuki about his quirk, to which Bakugou does not believe and continues to claim that he is and will be stronger than him as he walks off, completely vulnerable and with teary eyes.

The next time we are shown Katsuki in a vulnerable state, it’s at the sports festival.

After his fight with Uraraka, who he claimed to be a worthy opponent (wooo some sort of development!!), he immediately put the blame on Deku, thinking that he was the reason why she had such a great plan (aaaaand there that development goes) to which Izuku replies with him not being involved in the plan.

Then, he has his fight with Todoroki to which he starts getting mad about as Shouto was not using his full power on him. Bakugou wants to be shown that he was best with Todoroki using his full power, so he felt like he was being looked down upon and seen as weak in his eyes.

They had to chain him up because he was so furious about the fight, this fight only adding to his very prevelent inferiority and superiority complex.

The sports festival ends and they all go off into internships and Bakugou has chosen to go with Best Jeanist. Here, he grows to respect Best Jeanist, even going as far as to making sure that he is the first one to hear his hero name when he comes up with one.

Now after they come back from their internships, the students are tasked with fighting one of the teachers with a partner not of their choice.

Katsuki and Izuku were paired together.

At first, this was hard. Bakugou was not interacting with Izuku. He wanted to do things his own way, even going as far as to say that he would rather lose than work with Deku. To which led to Izuku punching him to snap him out of it.

Bakugou eventually let up and attempted to start working with Izuku. He even goes as far as using himself as bait so Deku can turn around and win for them (however, Izuku being himself didn’t leave Katsuki behind).

They both beat All Might bc Katsuki had pushed away his pride and finally allowed for them to start working together.

This was arguably Katsukis lowest point in the series. He was so full of distrust, non-compliance, and just,, wanting to stay away from Izuku that he was willing to lose this fight. The same guy who always wants to win was okay with losing.

Then all of class 1A goes to the training camp and it’s being attacked.

Their target? It was Bakugou.

Izuku and others desperately try and protect Bakugou as they try and take him as far away from the attack as possible to avoid any mishap.

However, they failed and Bakugou was taken.

In the moment as Bakugou was taken, we see him show genuine concern for Deku as he runs for him, telling him not to come after him at that moment.

Dekus scream after this scene in the anime will never not make me teary eyed,,

While held in captivity, it was revealed that he was kidnapped because the villains thought that they could turn him over to their side after seeing how upset and unfairly treated he was at the sports festival. However, Bakugou confirms to the viewers that he has no villainous intentions whatsoever.

After he was kidnapped, there was a rescue team created by some of the students so they can get him back.

As they created a last minute plan, they devised a strategy to which they would use their quirks and Kirishima would be the one to reach out and grab onto Bakugou and save him, to which they go through with and succeed in.

This, as revealed by Horikoshi, is a very bittersweet scene. It shows that Bakugou was starting to trust and become friends with others. However, it also showed his stubbornness in knowing that if it were Izukus hand being reached out then he might have not taken it.

After they get out of the spot they were in, they find that All Might was currently fighting AFO and it was being live broadcasted. After AFO, and ultimately, All Mights defeat, All Might sends a message “to the world”(it’s directed at Izuku) saying that “you’re next.”

Bakugou looks over to Izuku, confusion and concern on his face, seeing as he is the only one crying in a sea of cheering people.

Once they get back to UA and time has passed, Bakugou starts doing smaller things to show his appreciation (i.e. trying to pay Kirishima back, etc.)

After All Might and Aizawa come to his house to talk about dorming with his parents, Bakugou asks All Might his relationship with Izuku, to which he didn’t get the response we wanted and brushed it off as he thanked All Might for saving him.

At this point, the students are out to get their provisional license. Bakugou being bakugou failed in the saving part of the exam and failed to get his license.

After they get back, Bakugou confronts Deku and tells him that he wants to meet with him outside. Deku complies as Bakugou takes him to where they first fought, at ground beta.

This fight is full of emotions. With years of anguish and confusion from Bakugou, trying to understand why and how Izuku was slowly rising up to his level. How he feels guilty for being the one to “end All Might.”

Years upon years of emotions are being fought out as Bakugou tries to seek some sort of comfort and understanding about everything that had just recently happened.

Izuku was the only one in Bakugous eyes to be able to accept and understand his feelings.

After they fight out for a little while and get pulled apart by All Might, the secret about OFA is officially revealed to Bakugou.

When asked to keep this a secret, Bakugou claims that he’s not doing it for All Mights sake (hmmm,, Dekus 👀) and goes as far as to encourage Deku to be better so they could be proper rivals.

Bakugou looks over to Deku and tells him that things will be different between the two. That Katsuki will change and accommodate for this new knowledge that he has.

This is the start is his rising.

[end of part 1]

#bnha #bakugou katsuki #mha #katsuki bakugou #bnha meta #bakudeku #??? kind of ish I’ll just add it lol

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dewykth · 4 years ago

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SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle and @dewykth collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj word count. 7.5k+ warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳 i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter.

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head.

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry.

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel.

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation.

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go? Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

#bangtanhq #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #btsguild #btsgoldnet #cypherwritersnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic

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punksungjin · 4 years ago

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just flower shop things [kim wonpil]

the mandatory florist!wonpil bc he is so soft and cute. alternatively: everyday wonpil looks forward to seeing his favorite customer, but it has to take a little bit of jealousy to get him to admit he likes them.

pairing: kim wonpil (day6) x reader

1.5 k words | florist au, fluff

Your visits are the highlight of Wonpil’s day.

The flower shop is a lot of things, brick and white concrete and earth, but boring is how he would choose to describe it. Not a lot of people buy flowers during regular days, and most of the time Wonpil just lounges behind the counter, occasionally spritzing and pruning, then taking a nap. Boring, Wonpil thinks.

Until you start visiting.

You come in everyday. He’s memorized your routine: in the morning, you’re first to walk in—he’s lucky enough if any customer comes after you—so much that the wind chime tinkling before 9 AM has become synonymous with your return. Coming in, you’ll inhale all the scents of the shop—cherrywood and leaves—and walk to his counter with a renewed bounce in your step.

Wonpil thinks you’re pretty.

“Good morning,” he says brightly, when you come into his shop that morning. He doesn’t usually like acting cute on purpose but it just comes out when you’re there. He’s giddy when you visit, and grateful because you’re giving him business. “What can I get you today?”

Wonpil knows your order by heart, but he lets you say it anyway. He likes the sound of your voice. Friendship flowers, please. “Friendship flowers, please. I think I’ll get those pink ones.”

Pink? That’s new. He flashes you a smile, taking the pencil tucked from behind his ear, writing you a slip.

“What will you be giving me?” You peer over the counter to look at his handwriting. Then, Wonpil can only focus on your head, which he can see directly as you lean over, and he thinks even the back of your head is beautiful. “Ooh, freesias. I bet that’s pretty. Everything you do is pretty.”

Your compliment sends a zing up Wonpil’s feet. He disappears into the backroom for a bit, collecting your flowers. He considers adding another one, but stops when he remembers the flowers aren’t for you anyway.

When he returns, you’re still there, tapping your fingers on the counter. Wonpil’s noticed you like watching him work on the bouquet with his hands, so he spreads it out on the nearby table and beckons you to come closer.

“Your friend must be very happy,” Wonpil hums. A strand of hair has fallen astray on his forehead and he’s pretty sure you’re staring at him. Cute.

“She is,” you murmur. You’re fixated on his craft, folding and creasing, bunching and tying. “You make such good art with your hands.”

Wonpil feels the blush rise in his cheeks. “Ah, I meant she must be very happy because you’re thoughtful—”

“Really, you deserve more traction.” He looks at you and you’re grinning, all crinkled eyes and teeth, and he thinks your eyes are especially pretty today. “My friends like your work. You’re amazing.”

You’re amazing.

Even hours after you leave, Wonpil can still hear you talking fondly about him. He can practically hear the smile in your voice. You’re amazing. He shakes his head and buries it in his hands, aware of how giddy he’s feeling.

The next day, you walk in, same pep in your step, same cheer in your voice. Except—

“Do you have any flowers for... Someone you love?” You rub your arm shyly, and Wonpil feels like... Well. He doesn’t know what he feels like. It feels like jealousy, but the rational part of him condemns it, because while he truly does like you, it wouldn’t matter. You’re clearly not interested, anyway.

He settles for ‘dread’. “Roses?”

You smile. Wonpil has heard of the idiom of smiles lighting up rooms before, but he didn’t really think that sort of smile was real until he met you. “Roses it is, then.”

When Wonpil turns around he frowns so hard it feels like his head is going to explode. Maybe he should have confessed his little crush earlier.

Reluctantly he gets the roses and wraps them—he doesn’t even put on a show for you to watch. When he’s done he thinks about how the flowers are pretty and so are you, and how you’re going to give the flowers to someone you like, and it isn’t him.

Nope, not jealous. Definitely not.

Wonpil puffs his cheeks out and exhales, walking back to the counter where you’re waiting. “Here you go,” he says curtly, mouth in a tight smile. He’s holding the bouquet with both hands like a schoolboy offering flowers.

You look at him curiously, taking the flowers from Wonpil. “Are you... Are you okay?” An awkward laugh punctuates the end of your sentence. “You look angry.”

Immediately Wonpil glances at his reflection on the nearby mirror and realizes he looks like a fool: lips pressed together, brows scrunched, cheeks flushed scarlet. “Oh, sorry—!” He drops the expression. “Sorry, I think I just—”

You cut him off with a laugh. “What was that? That was cute.”

“Ah...” Wonpil laughs nervously, allows himself a smile. He rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “Thank you.”

You give a bright nod to him. He looks at you starting to leave and suddenly one thing is clear to him: he likes you, and he wishes he could give you all the flowers in the world.

“Wait,” Wonpil says, before you can leave. You’re paid and leaving, and he thinks if he doesn’t say it now, he’d never get the courage to say it. “Y/N, wait here, please.”

“Um— “ You freeze in your spot. “Um, okay...?”

He leaves you bewildered when he goes in the backroom. Hidden, Wonpil tries to even out his breathing. Then, systematically, like he’s done countless times before, he takes a couple of flowers, wrapping them together in a small, simple bouquet. It doesn’t look like much compared to your roses.

Still, these are the flowers that remind you of him. They’re direct and pretty. Just like you.

“Here.” Wonpil holds out your bouquet in the same manner again, and he doesn’t even meet your eyes. You look like a deer in headlights, but eventually you put down the roses—Oh, thank God!—and take the flowers, brushing against his hand in the process.

“What’s this?”

“Peonies and baby’s breath,” he says, fidgeting with his hands. “They’re sweet and pretty, so they match you.”

Wonpil’s a bit pleased to see you flustered.

“Wah, Pil, they’re...” You sniff the flowers. “I think I’ll just pay for this one.”

“What?” Haha, what? “They’re for you.”

Silence. Wonpil rubs his hands together awkwardly.

You blink. “For me?”

“Yes,” he says, “take them; they’re free.”

“Aw, Pil, thank you but I couldn’t really—”

“Take them,” Wonpil blurts out, waving his hand dismissively. “I made them for you. Just... For you.”

“What—” Your eyes widen with realization and he winces, preparing himself for the rejection. Oh, well. At least you would be kind enough to turn him down nicely. “What is—Are these really for me?”

You sound so bewildered he can’t help but laugh. “Um, I like you,” he says quietly, but you catch the words anyway.

“You like me?”

His head whips up to look at you. Why did you look so surprised? Surely you’d caught on with his pining, he wasn’t exactly the most subtle person.

“Yes, and I think you like someone so I’m going to say my feelings now before they get deeper,” Wonpil says earnestly, glancing at the bouquet of roses on the counter.

You hang your head. “Wonpil...”

Here it comes.

“I don’t really like flowers,” you mumble. Like some kind of cruel allegory, he actually feels himself wilt under your gaze. You didn’t like flowers? Why were you buying so much, then? Flowers were all he could offer, and you didn’t like them. “I don’t really like flowers, Pil, and—”

“Ah, okay. So I’ll just take those?”

“No!” Your voice surprises the both of you. “I don’t like flowers and... I only ever go in here to see you. That’s why I go here, to see you. Sorry if... That’s creepy. But I like seeing your smile and you’re cute and you make good bouquets so—”

What you’re saying slowly sinks in. You like him, too. Wonpil’s mouth quirks upward in a smile. “You’re cute.”

You’re gripping the bouquet too hard. “I think you’re cute, too.”

The two of you exchange shy glances at each other for a moment. Then, he asks, “So who are the flowers for?”

“My mom’s. It’s her birthday.”

“Ah.” Wonpil didn’t know it was possible but he smiles even bigger. He even giggles, and the sound rings through the shop. “I’ll take the roses back, then. Cotton would suit her better. Wait here, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll be here.”

Before he leaves again for the backroom, your hands brush like they always do. But this time, you aren’t in a rush to draw away, and you flash him the smile that makes him feel all warm and funny inside.

Okay, I’ll be here.

Definitely, your visits are the highlight of Wonpil’s day.

#i love soft florist wonpil so much IT BREAKS MY MIND ....#ngl the latest allure interview with youngk wonpil and dowoon.... UGH #they all looked so good #kim wonpil x reader #day6 x reader #kim wonpil #kim wonpil imagines #florist au #day6 imagines #day6writersnet #wonpil x reader #wonpil imagines #kpop #kpop au #kpop imagines #kwritersworldnet #jim writes

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not-a-christmas-tree · 4 years ago

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i watched the dallas theater company les mis and here are my observations part TWO

i recently watched a modern adaptation of les mis from 2014! i took hella notes bc les mis being set in modern day has a LOT MORE than you would think! i just posted my act one notes, so here are the ones from act two. enjoy! :D

ACT TWO

(Building The Barricade)

oh javert,,,you and your red beret-scarf combo

everyone shakes hands the same way?? they all like. half bro hug. young people ig 🤷‍♀️

oh on my own is gonna hurt me huh

éponine has her hands up when she goes to take the letter to cosette that’s an interesting take

jvj looks so done lmao “really bruh just give me the letter i’ll give it to cosette it’s FINE”

omg first time i’ve ever seen éponine not take the money after the letter!! that actually makes so much sense bc she doesn’t take marius’ money when he asks her to find cosette’s house either. that,,,yes that’s good

the modern era begs the question... why didn’t marius just ask for cosette’s number?? i’d assume it’s just a thing that jvj doesn’t allow her to have a phone bc The Cops, but. maybe marius and cosette are the straight version of cottagecore lesbians they just write letters for ~The Aesthetic~

(On My Own)

i was right on my own was gonna hurt me

first time i’ve ever seen an éponine disguise where she actually passes as a boy lmao

FINALLY A VERSION OF OMO WHERE ITS NOT JUST FORLORN SELF-CARESSING THANK YOU

surprisingly i have less notes here that’s fun i thought i’d have more

(Javert at the Barricades)

WOAHHHHH THEY DID NOT SKIMP ON BARRICADE SET PIECES THAT SHIT IS COOOOOL

oh the barricade scenes are already hitting too hard

cops are in riot gear cops. are in. riot gear.

oh the javert spy thing that also hits funny because obviously

gavroche is armed with a bat i love you son

FULL VERSION OF LITTLE PEOPLE AT THE BARRICADE AYEEEEE

(A Little Fall Of Rain)

wait hold on why is marius not,,,singing to éponine on “why have you come back here?” he’s like. scolding someone,,, huh??

oh enj goes to help marius with ép!! and he calls over who i assume would be joly i STAN

MARIUS CRIES AFTER ÉP DIES KILL MEEEE

(The First Attack)

i like how jvj does the second confrontation here. he looks less angry and more like,,,compassionate and that MAKES SENSE bc yk. he’s telling javert he’s wrong but he’s not doing it out of spite he’s doing it bc this guy NEEDS to know what he does as a cop and realize that being a cop isn’t just enforcing rules, and it never was just that.

i do love the exasperated “gO” from jvj that’s kinda great ngl

(Drink With Me)

i’m very sad that there won’t be any exr from these boys

v e r y sad here

i do see grantaire looking PRETTY sad though

bold of y’all to assume that the modern day amis would all be straight

okay i can tell that grantaire really is going hard on the Existential Singing like,,,sure he’s just standing there but like. damn bro

SO THERE A R E LADIES ON THE BARRICADE WHY TF ARENT THEY FIGHTING

BETTER SEE SOME CHANGE THERE

i just realized that the cockades are buttons that is the BEST

(Bring Him Home)

jvj actually looks kinda happy in BHH and tbh i kinda like it?? it’s only on the “he’s like the son i might have known” line but i like it

oh those vowels oh boy they TALL

(The Final Battle)

enjolras is for some reason, still angry...why...why bro....

the staging for gavroche’s death is INTERESTING bc he’s reaching up at the sniper on the tower. hm. i dont hate it

OH SOMEONE ON THE BARRICADE IS RECORDING I THINK!!! GOOD ADDITION!!

i can’t imagine how many blood packs they went through

oh enjolras’s death okay so. he’s in a like. No Man’s Land almost, and the riot cops come in after him. it’s an interesting take because it almost mirrors the scene in the book, except obvs grantaire isn’t here. they also have an added scene after he dies where cops are checking out and using radios that is. that is EERIE.

jvj walks over to enjolras’s body 🥺

HE ALSO FUCKIN S C R E A M S WHEN HE SEES MARIUS ON THE GROUND GODDAMN MAN O U C H

thenardier steals combeferre’s glasses wow thanks for that added pain

thenardier and jvj have a mini fight oh that’s kinda cool hm

(Javert’s Soliliquy)

javert opens his soliloquy with some SPICY SADNESS OH B O Y he sounds broken already!! start strong!!

emotions go broken - anger - confusion? - mAJOR confusion - hopelessness

javert can FLY! no legit he’s on ropes

(Turning)

turning is. turning is almost a funeral.

OH THEYRE N U N S !

nuns are visiting the barricade 🥺

OH DAMN “what’s the use of praying if there’s nobody who hears?” THAT CERTAINLY HAS WEIGHT NOW THAT THEY ARE N U N S

it has just occurred to me that people have been dead on the floor for like. a solid five minutes

(Empty Chairs At Empty Tables)

“now my friends. are dead. and gone” he pauses like he’s realizing it just then oh OUCHIE

wait is marius,,,at the barricades? is he legit singing to his friends dead bodies? oh shit oh NO

OH N O OH NONONO THIS IS WORSE

THE BARRICADE BOYS RISE UP FROM THE FLOOR OH N O OUCH OUCH

they group up and salute him and wALK OFF NO OWWWW

*cosette and marius kiss* jvj: *COUGH COUGH*

marius and valjean’s lil conversation is interesting in the way valjean seems to ask marius “who am i?” rather than ask himself. he phrases it in a way that makes me think he’s like. quizzing marius lmao

(The Wedding)

omg i think baby cosette and éponine are flower girls 🥺🥺

“go away thenardier” *madame mouths ‘dammit!’*

thenardier your boat shoes hurt me

madame: “get up! get up!” thenardier: “stop—STOP IT!”

TWO GUYS ARE DANCING TOGETHER AND WAVE AT THENARDIER ON “this ones a queer, but what can you do”

yeah i think i found my new favorite thenardiers thank you dallas theater company

fantine sits on the bench when cosette comes by, cosette sits on bench next to her, and fantine tries to touch her but can’t 🥺

jvj just gave a hand-over-heart head nod to cosette but fantine gave it back i,,,ouch

ENJOLRAS AND GAVROCHE ARE WITH FANTINE AND ÉPONINE FOR JVJ’S DEATH

the chain gang is in the epilogue i repeat the cHAIN GANG IS IN THE EPILOGUE

the orchestra rests on the last “say do you hear the distant drums” and that was the coolest thing i’ve ever heard

that final harmony is MONEYYYY and i want to cry

OVERALL NOTES:

this javert has the most interesting interpretation because up until his FINAL SCENE he is the stone cold police officer, and he plays it SO WELL. like i have never been truly angry at a javert up until this guy, and whether that was because it was modern and resonates A LOT in 2020 or he just looks like a cop i want to punch, I DON’T KNOW but he plays it SO WELL and i love it so much!!

these thenardiers are the fucking BEST NGL they are the perfect mix of funny and cruel. madame t is also funny as HELL and i wish i had her talent lmao

i said it before but the police costumes in this show are. woosh. kudos to the costumer i took one look at those guys and was like “haha, no!.” vaguely related to that, i think this was the first time i nearly cried at Look Down like. the first song at the show, simply because of the convict getting the SHIT beat out of him on the floor. that hurt me and i hate that it is completely accurate to what happens in prisons today.

lovely ladies was,,,a LOT and tbh, i feel like it didn’t need to be. obviously it does show how horrible it is for sex workers, but that is why the music is there. the music and lyrics is there to tell what you don’t show visually. (though i do love the male prostitute lmao he took no shit)

i also said this before but the fact that there wasn’t bigger of a relationship between enjolras and grantaire kind of annoys me simply because they are revolutionaries in the present day. you can’t tell me that ALL OF THEM WERE STRAIGHT. with how many people i know now that identify under the queer and trans umbrella, and also how queer they are (to me) in the brick, the absence of any exr in a modern interpretation hurts a little.

in conclusion, this show was fucking FANTASTIC and even though i’m six years late, it still resonates hard given the time we live in today. i think i nearly screamed when i saw the cops in riot gear on the barricade because that is LITERALLY HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. this just reminds me how timeless the story of les mis is because you had to change LITERALLY NOTHING from the story to make it make sense in the modern age, and that is really the lesson you should learn from les mis; these things happen everywhere, and they need to be fixed.

thank you for listening to my rambling, i am sure i forgot something because there was just so damn much but i hope you enjoyed otherwise! not-a christmas-tree out! :)

#les mis #les miserables #les amis #les amis de l'abc #dallas theater company #jean valjean #javert #fantine #cosette #marius #enjolras #grantaire

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bre-meister · 4 years ago

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Hi! i loved your drabbles, can you do the greens with the prompt “she doesn’t know how much he loves her, he doesn’t know she feels the same” and a confession?

It took me a looong time to write this (and I feel kinda bad because I could never find any inspiration to write your other ask) so I hope this super long post makes up for it

“This is bullshit.”

Boomer, turned to his girlfriend, eyes wide. Bubbles almost never swore. It was something that happened, sure, but not very often and only when what she was referencing was completely serious. Boomer looked around, confused. There was nothing in their immediate area to warrant such a reaction from Bubbles.

The two were sitting in a booth in a niche dinner that they had been coming to for years, even before they officially began dating. They had silently been watching Buttercup say goodbye to her...date? Honestly, Boomer didn’t know how to categorize it - they had, in all sense of the words, been on a double date with his girlfriend’s sister and her newest fling but it didn’t really seem to him that Buttercup was fully there the whole time.

“What do you mean?” he finally asked, “What’s bullshit?”

“That” she gestured wildly at her sister who was now standing alone on the street, her date having departed. Bubbles’ gesture turned into a friendly wave when Buttercup turned to look over her shoulder at the two still situated in the dinner. Boomer snorted at her silly antics.

Buttercup returned the wave with a smile that didn’t seem to reach her eyes before taking off to the sky, presumably home but Boomer had a feeling she’d be making a stop along the way. Bubbles let out a deep breath, turning away from the window to face him fully.

“She should be with Butch. Those two are totally meant to be! Instead, she’s wasting her time on these random guys trying to deny her feelings. Would it be so bad if she just accepted them? If they tried to be more than just friends?”

Boomer hummed in thought. He wasn’t blind to the way that Butch felt about BC. In fact, he was pretty sure Buttercup was the only one who hadn’t realized it.

“She doesn’t know how much he loves her. I mean, honestly, I don’t know how she hasn’t realized it yet but she hasn’t.”

“Yeah but he doesn’t know that she feels the same either and for a guy who talks as much game as Butch he’s being a real scardey cat about asking her out.” Boomer laughed at that. Butch was the dictionary definition of male posturing with only one exception - Buttercup. When it came to her, he was terrified about messing anything up.

“I’ve been left no choice.” Seeing where this was going, Boomer tried to interject.

“Sweetie I don’t think -”

“No, I’ve given them ample time, and yet here we are.” She was already pushing past him, all but climbing over him to get out of the booth and on with her plans.

“Clearly, Butch isn’t going to make a move anytime soon and if I know Buttercup, which I do, she won’t either. “ At this point Bubbles was shrugging on her jacket, preparing to walk out the door. Boomer jumped up quickly, shoving his arms into his own jacket while nearly tripping over himself to catch up with her - she was moving quickly and the look in her eyes before she left did not bode well for their siblings.

“Bubs, what exactly are you going to do?”

She stopped abruptly, the blue of the sky meeting the deepest color of the ocean as she looked intently into his eyes. At that moment, he knew that she wouldn’t be swayed from whatever it was that she was planning.

“They’re miserable tiptoeing around each other; making one another jealous both intentionally and unintentionally. You said it yourself, Butch was going crazy about Buttercup going out with someone else tonight. If they won’t get together for their own sake I’m going to ger them together for everyone else’s sanity!”

Bommer couldn’t deny she had a point. Dealing with a jealous raging Butch gets old fast and he knew Brick had even less patience for this than he did.

“Well, when you put it that way, “ he sighed “how can I help?”

……

“So I take it the date didn’t go very well?”

Buttercup sighed. She knew she shouldn’t have come here, knew she should have gone straight home but she couldn’t help it. She needed to see him, touch him. Apparently, she was a masochist now - torturing herself with the one thing she wants more than anything yet knows she can’t have.

“He took one look at the way Bubbles and Boomer were acting. Like even though we were on a double date they were the only ones around for miles.” She explained at his confused expression. “So he said that I’d never shown that much interest in him and he didn’t see it happening anytime soon, so he ended it.” She trailed off slightly at the end, not that it really mattered, she knew he could hear every single word with his superhearing - what she didn’t know was how desperately he clung to every word she said, every sound she made, every laugh, every sigh, everything.

“Harsh.”

“That’s the saddest part about it though, I wasn’t upset. Well, I was just not at him.”

“Then at what?” Butch was studious when it came to Buttercup. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to know her deepest dreams, her heart’s greatest desire, and he wanted to make those happen for her - he wanted to give her everything.

“At Bubbly and Little Boy Blue I guess, at Leader Girl and Cap boy, at Robin and Mike and Mitch and Pablo and just...everyone who seems to be able to find that type of love.” They sat in silence for a bit, each hoping the other would say something but neither being brave enough to do so. Eventually, Buttercup broke the silence.

“Maybe I just need to accept that I’ll never have that.”

“Don’t say that Butterfly,” she smiled at her and lifted her face until they were looking into each other’s eyes. For a moment he lost his train of thought, lost as he was in her green eyes - green like acid, a warning to all those who would underestimate her but he would never; he knew the power held inside her small body, knew that she could end him without much effort and he loved that about her

No, he silently scolded himself. You’re not allowed to love things you can’t have. He shook his head imperceptibly before continuing.

“ You’ll find that. I don’t believe there’s no one out there who wouldn’t want that with you. I - “

I want that with you. I want it more than anything in the world. I want it so much it hurts. How have I been this blind this whole time?

“I’m your best friend. I should know better than anyone right?” He told himself that it wasn’t disappointment he saw in her face - crushed that hope just as violently as he had all the others. It couldn’t be and he wouldn’t ruin their relationship on hope. He’d rather be just friends and be able to keep her close than not have her in his life at all.

“Best friend.” She repeated.

Standing up she let go of his hand - something she hadn’t realized she had grabbed and was loathed to let go of - so she could prepare to leave. She shouldn’t have come. It always hurt more to leave than it did before she came yet she couldn’t stay away. Masochist.

“Bye Butch. Thanks for everything.”

Everything. There was that word again. He wanted to tell her that he would give her everything she was looking for, treat her like she was everything because she was. Instead, he simply told her goodbye.

Buttercup hesitated at the door. She would have liked to hug him, friends hug right? She decided against it though knowing that after the night she’d have she wouldn’t be able to let go. So, instead, she went back home to her empty apartment and presented that he was there, holding her the way she wished he would. In turn, as he lay in bed just a few miles away, he held tightly to his extra pillow wishing it was her and he could hold her the way he so desperately wanted to.

she doesn’t know how much he loves her, he doesn’t know she feels the same. So naturally, their siblings conspire to change that.

……

Brick thought this was dumb. Who were they to meddle in the lives of their siblings? In his mind, If the two idiots couldn’t figure this shit out on their own, then they deserve the literal nonsense they are imparting upon themselves. He checked his watch before looking around the room again. Blossom was sitting next to him, tapping away at her phone - no doubt checking her emails. Bubbles and Boomer were whispering, probably conspiring, together in the kitchen. Everyone was in the same place they were five minutes ago when he’d last checked - five minutes ago when this little shindig was supposed to start. Brick Jojo was many things and patience was not one of them.

“How are you sure they're even going to show up considering they’re already late and all.”

“That’s not fair Brick, Buttercup and Butch are perpetually late to everything.” Blossom reminded him without even looking up from her phone.

“I know they are going to show up because I told Buttercup that I needed her help and Buttercup never stands me up when I need her help.” Bubbles looked very proud of herself.

“She’s right, Buttercup would drop everything if Bubbles said she needed help.” Blossom supported Bubbles whose proud look turned to a smug one.

“And I told Butch I needed his help - “

“Butch would stand your ass up in a heartbeat and you know that.” Boomer glared at his brother but didn’t try to denounce the statement.

“I told him I needed his help with a surprise for Buttercup.”

“Butch would drop anything for Buttercup.” There goes Blossom, yet again defending this plan that he oh so detested.

“Brick please just try, for me?” Blossom finally looked up from her phone only to give him the biggest puppy dog eyes in the world. He hated when she did that - she knew he couldn’t say no to those big, gorgeous pink eyes. He let out a sigh and the others took it as a sign.

Exactly ten minutes from when this shindig was supposed to start, the two greens showed up, both equally as confused as the other.

“Bubbs? I thought you said you needed help with cooking a...what was it? A ‘super special top-secret dinner’ - this doesn't seem like a secret to me.” BC voiced her confusion while taking her coat off. She eyed each person in the room and lingered just a tad longer than she perhaps should have on her counterpart.

“Boom told me he and Bubbly needed help with a surprise for you.”

“Me?” Butch nodded.

“Well, I guess you could say this is a surprise.” Boomer began nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck - a nervous tick from childhood he hadn’t seemed to shake.

“A surprise for both of you!” Came Bubbles' overly enthusiastic response.

The two greens turned to their redheaded leaders for some guidance. Surely they wouldn’t have allowed Boomer and Bubbles to rope them into this nonsense. Brick just shrugged as if to say don’t look at me. I don’t want to be here any more than you do. Blossom seemed to take pity on them.

“Look, we’ve all been talking and it seems that we’ve all noticed a running thread with the two of you and we think it’s time to address it.”

“So this is an intervention then?” Buttercup seemed tickled at the idea

“Of sorts,” said Blossom.

“Ok if this is an intervention, then what are you intervening in because last time I checked I haven't smoked since high school, and Butterfly and I don’t drink any more than any of you.”

“See? That right there! That’s why we’re here!” Bubbles was just met with more confusion. She sighed,

“The pet name, Butch.”

“What about it?” The green-eyed man was suddenly very defensive. “It’s just a nickname. We all have nicknames for each other that’s just the kind of shit that happens when you work together all the time.”

“Ya but, Butch, you’re the only one that calls me Butterfly.”

Buttercup was pretty sure she had never seen Butch’s face that red before. Brick, who had been sitting so silently up until now, seemed to have reached his breaking point.

“Look, we’re here because, apparently, the two of you are just so blind that you can’t see you’re in love with each other.” The sentence came out so casual as if he were just stating that the sky was blue.

The greens turned to each other, mouths gaping.

“Brick!” Both Bubbles and Blossom were not happy.

“What? If you thought that I was going to sit here and play ring around the Rosie with all of you then you thought wrong. The whole point of this was to get these two idiots so they would quit complaining to us! Clearly none of you we’re willing to do it so there, you’re welcome.”

Slowly all eyes turned towards Butch and Buttercup who had closed their mouths but were still staring at one another.

Buttercup didn’t know what to say. She should feel overjoyed right? The man she had been pinning after all this time loved her back. But there was a small part of her brain that she couldn’t ignore and it was saying that it had to be a lie - it had to be or Butch would have said something to her before then...right?

“I - you love me?” It took a moment for her to realize that the words had come from her mouth.

“I guess there's no reason to deny it at this point huh?” Butch twitched - his own nervous tick he hadn’t had any luck in shaking.

“I um,” he paused, nervously looking around at their siblings, “I don’t really want to do this here. Can we, you know, go somewhere more… private?”

Buttercup swallowed nervously before offering up her apartment as a rendezvous since it was closer than his. The two departed without goodbyes, taking off as fast as they could to reach their destination.

“Well, I thought that went well.” Brick was smirking. The three glares he received indicated that the others did not share the same feeling.

……

“Would you just say something?” Butch sat nervously on Buttercup’s couch as she paced in front of him.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you love me too. Say that you want to be with me before I go insane about how much of an idiot I sound like right now.”

Buttercup stopped.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“Do you really love me? Would you really look at me the way Boomer looks at Bubbles? Would you treat me with the same respect Brick treats Blossom? Would you miss me so much when I’m not around that you complain like Mike does about Robin?” She had worked herself up into a frenzy by the end of her rant.

“Buttercup, I already do those things, you’ve just never noticed.” His quiet reply broke something in her - those walls she had been building up for years and years to keep these feelings down. Now, they were all coming to the surface at full force.

She wasn’t sure who made the first move, him or her, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered is that they were together and he was kissing her as if she were air and he was suffocating. She’d never been kissed like this before and she finally understood what it meant to feel those fireworks that her sisters and friends always waxed poetic about.

“Wait.” It took all the power she had to pull away.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” He seemed scared- more scared than she had ever seen him the whole time they’d known each other.

“No. I just needed to tell you, before I forgot. I love you, Butch.”

As if a spark went off the two crashed back together. This time, instead of sleeping alone and wishing, the two lay - naked, sated, happy - in each other's arms. Whispered confessions of love and wanting shared between them until sleep finally took over. Nothing would ever be the same again, but maybe that was for the best.

#PPG #ppg fanfic #ppg greens #ppg buttercup #ppg butch #my writting #seriously this got out of hand

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babybuckleydiaz · 5 years ago

Note

Can you write something where Buck deals with all the trauma that came from the thoughtst of losing his family. Like he thought he lost Chris in the tsunami, then he thought he is gonna lose Bobby bc he is gonna get ill, then Maddie when the dispatch center was taken,and finally he thought he was gonna lose Eddie too. And it was just all too much and he started falling apart but firefam notices and helps him through

Warnings: swearing, insomnia, mentions of the therapist from season one, nightmares, spoilers. established buddie, hurt comfort.

Okay, so it’s currently 4am and I’ve finally finished this after so long. It’s a long one, my guys. Its about 6k words long. And I’m not happy with some of it, but I haven’t posted a prompt fill in ages so I really wanted to get this out. I really did enjoy writing it though, in more of a 5 +1 style. So, thank you so much for the prompts and I am so sorry if it’s not at all what you wanted, but I really hope that you like it. Thank you so much for reading, guys

also on ao3, since this is a long fic

BOBBY

“Hey, kid. Go get some rest.” When the order comes, Bobby voice is nothing but gentle and concerned with a hand resting on Buck’s shoulder, eyes searching the younger’s man face with something akin to worry. The team wasn’t even half way through a twenty four hour shift, and today has been nothing but exhausting call after exhausting call; it was obvious to even the untrained eye that the younger firefighter was overflowing with a bone deep tiredness. And for a moment, Bobby thinks that Buck is going to agree with him and do as is asked; but all he receives is a small shake of the head.

“Nah, Cap. I’m not tired.” The excuse is weak to even Buck’s ears, and it’s obvious by the raised eyebrow that he gets that Bobby doesn’t believe a word that he is saying; the worry growing tenfold. The circles under Buck’s eyes are dark and deep, movements still as his limbs screamed for a moment of anything similar to rest; mind already having gone into overdrive. “I slept earlier.” Bobby isn’t stupid, he’s far from it, and he’s able to see exactly what the younger man is doing. Buck knows that Bobby is able to read him easily, can see when he’s lying but he’s giving his Captain a chance to just forget about this conversation and sweep it under the rug. No way in hell was Bobby going to do that though, not when it would put lives, including Buck’s own, in risk by allowing an exhausted firefighter on the front line.

“We both know that’s bullshit, son.” Bluntly expressed Bobby, and he sees how Buck’s shoulder’s sag and his entire body seems to deflate at the breath of laughter that escapes his lips. “Talk to me, Buck. What’s going on?” Buck looks up from where he had shifted his attention to the ground, and he’s searching Bobby face for any sign that he doesn’t mean to concern that is obvious in his voice when he speaks. But he finds nothing but worry on the face of his Captain, but he shakes his head as he paints a sad and small smile across his face.

“Its fine, Bobby. I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

Bobby wasn’t going to let it go because he could see as clear as day that whatever was going on in Buck’s head was affecting him, and as someone who loves the kid like family he can’t allow him to continue like this. “It’s a bit late for that, kiddo. You’re family and I’m always going to worry.” Explained Bobby in a tone that he didn’t regret letting this firehouse become a home, that he loved being able to come into work and being around people he loved and he knew loved him. And he worried about each and every one of them; nothing would or could ever change that. It was his job, as a Captain and as a friend to each of them.

“It’s stupid; I’m gonna go take that nap.” But Bobby could see straight through the lie that Buck had just told, that the younger man wouldn’t sleep and would instead be staring at the ceiling until the alarm blared through the firehouse. “Buck…” Bobby didn’t want to drop the conversation when something was obviously wrong, but he knew that if he kept pushing that Buck could completely close off; and that was something that he didn’t want to happen. “Look, Bobby.” Began the younger man, an understanding yet strained smile on his face, and Bobby misses the ones where Buck smiles as brightly as the sun.

“I know you’re concern, and I appreciate it, but I’m okay. I’m dealing with it.”

Bobby had no idea what ‘it’ would even begin to be, but whatever it was, it was clear to see that Buck wasn’t dealing with it at all; at least not in a way that could be considered healthy. Bobby was certain that even a blind man would be able to see that Buck was struggling with whatever was going on in that head of his. And the older man won’t lie, it’s killing him to know that Buck feels as though this is something he can’t get help for, that he feels like he has to bury and pretend that it isn’t there. “You’re not dealing with anything, son.”

Buck freezes as he sighs, because Bobby’s tone isn’t even remotely judgemental or annoyed at the brick wall he’s seemed to hit in this conversation; instead it filled with an understanding and worry for the younger man. There’s nothing but silence between the two men for a moment, Bobby praying to anyone who would listen that the man in front of him would reach out for the help that he so obviously needed but wasn’t going to seek out on his own. “I’ll be fine, Cap.” And when Buck had spoken his tone was tired, sounded far too wrecked for someone of his age but Bobby can’t blame him, because Buck has seen far too much and been through more in his short life.

“Just…” Bobby begins, pausing and allowing his voice to trail off for a moment as he thinks about what to say, what could he possibly say anyway to help the man he loved as his own son? “Just try and get some sleep, please?” It what he settles on, because there isn’t much he can do when Buck won’t open up to him, but the most he can do is allow the kid to know that he cares and he’s in his corner should the younger man need him. And Buck can understand what he means through the words, Bobby can tell. Because the smile that Buck sends him may be small and tired, but it’s real and shows his appreciation for what his Captain was trying to achieve here.

“Sure thing, boss.”

Watching him go, Bobby doesn’t even bothering admitting to the younger man that he can tell Buck wasn’t going to even begin to try and allow his mind the peacefulness of rest; he remains silent. “Damn it, kid.” Bobby curses silently, wishing that there had been something more he could have done or said that would have allowed the kid to feel as though he could share whatever was troubling him.

Because whatever that was bothering the firefighter was drowning him, and it’s was clear to the captain that Buck was struggling to stay afloat of his own thoughts; they we’re ruining him. Briefly, Bobby finds himself wondering if Athena would have had any more luck had she been in this conversation, if anyone else would have gotten the other man to open up and share what was holding him down.

HEN

“Come on, man. Talk to me.” There’s a pleading done in Hen’s voice when she speaks, taking the time to wait for a moment where it could just be her and Buck alone. They’re currently in front of their fire truck, restocking the medical supply when Hen decides that she’s finally try and get to the bottom of whatever was weighing the younger man down. In response to what had been said, Buck just sighs as he stops whatever he is doing, placing the bandages that he had in his hand onto the truck; barely looking at Hen when he faces her.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Hen.” That’s a lie, and Hen knows that Buck is aware that she isn’t dumb nor would she fall for what he had said to her. “I’m perfectly fine.” He added on, seeing her disbelieving look when he finally raises his head to meet her eyes, giving her a smile that would convince anyone who didn’t know him as well as she did. Buck is her best friend, someone that means the world to her and she was able to read the younger man like an open book without ever really trying. “I’m not blind, Buck. I know you, and I can see something is killing you, man.” She explained in a tone softer that what she would usually use, but this is serious and Hen wants Buck to know that he can talk to her about anything plaguing his troubled mind.

“Hen, I’m fine. I don’t need to make everything about me.”

That silences Hen for a moment as she frowns deeply at the other man standing in front of her, because there was more meaning behind his words that what Buck was even aware of. And all Hen can think about is the number of times people have accused Buck of making everything about himself; and how fucking wrong they were to event think that.

But Buck is allowed to be selfish, to do things simply because he wants them for himself. There is nothing wrong with that and it’s so perfectly human of him to do for once. She inwardly winces; because the last time Buck had done something to benefit him had been when he filed the lawsuit; something she strongly sided with him about. He was being kept from his job and he had every single right to fight like damn hell to get back to it. “It’s not selfish to unburden yourself by talking to a friend.” Responds Hen, not really knowing what else she could have said to try and get her point across.

“Look Buck, I love you.” She adds on, stepping forward and reaching out to take one of Buck’s hands tightly within her own, not mentioning that she can feel them tremble in her grip. “And I know that something is going on, okay? And I want to help you because you’re my family.” Buck is looking at her now, the faintest trace of a frown on his brows as he bites into his lower lip in thought. “I want to help you because I love you so much.” She concluded gently, an encouraging smile gracing her face as she pulls her friend into a hug.

She can feel how Buck seems to melt into her touch, body completely sagging as he wraps arms around her in response to the action.

“I-I’m fine.” And this time when he says it, Hen can see that he is talking to himself instead of her; forcing himself to believe it the more that he said it. “You’re not, and you’re allowed to not be okay.” Whispered Hen, something that only Buck could hear because it was meant for his ears only. “And it’s okay to ask for help, to reach out to someone else.” Buck nods against her shoulder, sighing as he pulls away from the safety of his friend’s arms and gives Hen the tiniest and saddest smile she has ever seen on his face.

“It’s just… I-“ Shaking his head and laughing something humourless, reaching up to rub angrily at his eyes when he felt tears burn in them, he stops himself speaking.

“I’m scared.” Buck’s voice sounds so broken at his own admission, choked up and small. Hen looks at him then, really looks at him and sees the tears in his eyes and the trembling of his hands. “Scared? Of what, Buckaroo?” She pries patiently, her words free of judgement and waiting for Buck to gather his own thoughts. But Buck stays silent for a while, for a long moment that Hen thinks he’s going to clam up and brush off his own declining mental health like he’s being doing for so long now. But still, Hen waits.

Buck Hen never gets to hear what Buck as going to say when he opens his mouth to speak, because it’s in that moment that the alarms decide to sound, jolting the both of them out of their moment. “Forget it, I’m fine.” Buck quickly brushes off, closing up the truck against and making his way towards his turnout uniform with hurried steps, and Hen can’t help but curse every God in existence for that. She knows that had been the only chance she had for Buck to talk to her, and that moment had been taken away before she could get any answers.

“Fuck!” She hisses angrily, the annoyance on her face as she runs up to get prepared as well while thinking about what Buck was going to admit; what would he be scared of?

CHIMNEY

“Hey, did you get any sleep?” The concern is clear in Chimney’s voice when he sits up in his bunk, eyes having gone straight to Buck’s and seeing the man in the same position as hours ago. On his back, arms behind his head and eyes staring at the ceiling but unseeing; the clear need for sleep written all over his face despite it all. And it worries him, because it’s clear that the man he loves like a little brother is struggling and suffering; and despite his nature of jest and laughter, Chimney found himself so concerned.

At the sound of the sudden whisper, being mindful of the still sleeping Hen and Eddie, Buck shifts his eyes to find Chimney looking at him with a deep frown. Shrugging his shoulders, Buck pushes himself into a sitting position, running a hand down his face and through his hair. “I don’t know, I don’t think so.” Frowning deeply at what had been his answer, Chimney moves to sit on the vacant space on Buck’s bunk; wanting to talk about this while he had the chance. “Hey, what’s going on? What do you mean, you don’t know?” Chimney presses, unsure if he’s asking as a friend or as a paramedic concerned about someone’s health. He doesn’t know, maybe it could be both.

“I dozed off, I think. But I just… can’t sleep.” There’s more to it than that, Chimney is well aware. But for now, he’s going to work with the information that Buck is giving him and dig a little deeper to try and find some more. “Come on, kid. Talk to dear old big brother Chimney.” The older man smiled, and he feels some little sentiment of relief when Buck snorts at his joke and rolls his eyes with something akin to a happy expression. “Oh shut up, man.” Responds the younger, leaning over and shoving his friend on the shoulder that Chimney barely reacts to, because now that he’s looking at his friend he sees the thinks that Hen had been talking about.

Buck looks absolutely exhausted, skin paler than normal with permanently tired eyes and dark circles to match.

“Jeez, buckaroo. When what the last time you actually slept?” And just like that, Buck’s smile drops from his face and instead is replaced with a deep straight line; the younger man sighing as he shakes his head. “Honestly? I have no fucking clue.” Buck’s honest, it’s clear that he’s tired of struggling with whatever is going on in that big old head of his. “I… I’ve tried! But I can’t sleep because every single night is filled with fucking nightmares, Chim.” Chimney nods his head to show that he is listening, wants Buck to see that he can talk and someone will take in what he is saying.

“What about? It might help to talk about them.” He offers, being the ear for Buck to rant in if that’s what he needs to feel better. Buck smiles softly as he leans back against the wall, letting his head fall back against it as he takes a deep breath. “Losing everyone.”

That throws Chimney into complete silence, and he isn’t ashamed to admit that the tone in Buck’s voice breaks his heart right in two. Because he sounds so lost and so small, and in that moment all Chimney wants to do is wrap him up and make sure that nothing can ever hurt him. “Sometimes, it’s Bobby being sick. Or you’re stabbing. Or the rebar incident.” Whispers Buck, not looking at Chimney when he speaks now, head tipped back against the wall and eyes shut when he speaks. “Or… Or it’s Eddie stuck under the ground, a-and I can’t save him.” When Buck mentions Eddie, Chimney doesn’t seem fazed or even mention how Buck’s voice cracks.

He watches as Buck instead turns his head to look at his boyfriend asleep on the other bunk, and it’s obvious that he’s taking in the fact that Eddie is still breathing and beside him. “Chris gets taken away from me in those, and… and I can’t lose you guys.” Buck pauses as he looks back at his friend. “Or when Doug took Maddie, that fear that she’s going to die is constantly replaying in my head.”

Chimney now finally understands what has been troubling his friend, that he’s being drowned by the memories of almost losing those that he loved. Briefly, Chimney wonders if that is something that should have been obvious to the team from the start. Chimney is quiet for a moment as he leans forward, placing a hand on Buck’s knee and looking his friend in the eyes with an encouraging smile. “Hey, you’re not going to lose any of us. You’re not going to be alone.” The tone that Chimney uses is confident when he speaks, because he knows that everyone here would never leave each other if they could help it.

“You can’t promise that, though!” Harshly whispered Buck and Chimney can see that it isn’t anger that he’s speaking with, it’s fear and desperation that causes his eyes to fill with tears. And Chimney remains silent as he thinks about what to say to Buck’s outburst, because he can’t promise that with the job that they have and the dangers that come hand in hand with it.

“Look, it’s fine. Forget I said anything.” Buck quickly brushes off when Chimney remains silent, knowing that the older man doesn’t know what he can say right now. Pushing himself up, Buck gets up from the bunk with the intention to do something else to distract his own mind. “Buck, wait. Talk to me, man. You can’t keep burying this hoping it will go away.” Chimney pleads, not wanting Buck to bury an issue like this and pretends that something is eating him alive; his friend is in mental pain and he doesn’t know what he can do to help right now. “Chim, don’t. I’m fine, I’m always fucking fine.” Once again, Chimney can’t sense nor hear any anger when he speaks despite sounding like it’s there, and that is enough to make his heart clench to painfully in his chest.

He can only sit there, watching Buck walk away from him with a sad and worried expression.

MADDIE

“Oh Ev…” Maddie voice is so quiet when he walks into her living room, finding her little brother asleep on the couch, wrapped so tightly under blankets she gave him. She notes that he doesn’t look peaceful either, his face scrunched up as he pants out roughly, hands tightly gripping the blanket as he makes a something akin to a whimper of fear. Quickly, she moves over and kneels beside the couch as he places a hand on her little brother’s shoulder, waking him up from whatever nightmare he finds himself trapped in.

“Hey, Buck. You gotta wake up, buddy.” She instructs softly, shaking the younger man’s shoulders with a frown of her own; hearing Buck mumble something out but not being able to understand what he’s saying. He sounds scared though, so scared that it breaks Maddie’s chest to hear such a tone come from someone who everyone sees as so strong. And he is, oh god is he so strong and brave, but he’s also human. “Come on, you’re okay. You gotta wake up, Buck.” She insists, shaking Buck’s shoulder just that little bit harder when he doesn’t respond to anything that she tells him. Maddie doesn’t want to scare him into waking up, not when he was already trapped in a nightmare that seemed to be doing that just fine on its own.

With a gasp, Maddie watches as Buck bolts up right with drastic breaths and eyes wildly looking around his surroundings. “Hey, hey, hey. You’re okay, you’re with me. You’re okay.” She sooths, moving forward and cupping either side of Buck’s face with hands so gentle, Buck’s eyes snapping to his sister’s face. “I though… I-“ Maddie is never going to hear whatever Buck was going to say, but he cuts himself off with the shake of his head as he puts a hand against his chest, taking deep and calming breaths to sooth his racing heart.

“Sorry, I’m good.” Buck quickly brushes off, sending his sister a shaky smile as he moves away from her touch and swings his legs over the edge of the couch, laughing at himself pathetically. Maddie shakes her head, having no idea why her little brother would apologize for having a nightmare; that’s not something that he needs to be sorry about. “Hey, don’t apologise, Buck. Are you okay, that seemed pretty bad?” Notes Maddie, brows pinches together as she pushes herself up from the ground and takes a seat beside her brother.

“Hey, I didn’t wake up screaming, so that’s pretty tame.” Buck says it as a joke to lighten the mood, but instead Maddie just cocks her head when he looks at him for a moment. “Wake up screaming?” She questions, and Buck can’t help but groan for making her more worried than what she already was. “Does that happen often, Buck?” Shaking his head, Buck pushes himself up from the couch and makes his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water, already prepared for Maddie to follow him with questions and concerns she won’t let go of. “Evan, talk to me.” Maddie begs when she does, in fact, follow her brother into the kitchen; not wanting to let this conversation die just yet.

“Mads, I’m fine. Just drop it, please.” Buck’s voice is pleading, begging, for her to just drop the subject but he’s known Maddie his whole life and knows how stubborn she can be. He inwardly snorts, that’s the one trait that she ever got from their father. “No, I’m not gonna drop it, Evan. I’ve watched for weeks as something has bothered you, I can’t keep letting you pretend that nothing is wrong.” She shoots back, and Buck sighs as he places the glass back onto the bench and leans forward, taking a moment to just breath. “I’m here, okay? And I’m not leaving, Evan. So talk to me.”

“But you’re not always gonna be here, Maddie!” Buck isn’t entirely sure what he means when he yells those words, turning around to face Maddie who looks shocked and taken aback. “I-I’m not leaving, Evan. I’m not leaving you again.” She promises, and Buck just shakes his head quickly as he reaches up to run a hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his head for a moment. “You can’t promise that, though! You can’t promise that you’re always gonna be here!” Maddie is silent for a moment, knowing that Buck is talking about when they were growing up and left for college, or when she left after meeting Doug; there’s more to what he’s saying.

“So what is the point of any of you saying that you’ll always be here when the reality is you can’t promise that?” Maddie can see the tears trailing down her brother’s face, that he angrily scrubs away with a scoff. “I am so sick of fucking crying!” He hisses to himself, beyond worked up and stressed about whatever has been bothering him for the last few weeks.

“And I am sick of not sleeping because every time I close my eyes, I’m losing you or someone from the team. Or Eddie and Chris. I am so fucking sick that I can’t just ‘get over it’” When Buck utters those last three words, Maddie notes the use of quotation marks with a frown; it’s obvious that they have another meaning to Buck when he says them. “Evan, how long has this been going on?” Maddie questions, tears burning in her own eyes at the thought of her brother suffering so terribly alone. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” Maddie jumps onto the next question when Buck just shrugs when his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the kitchen sink.

“Because, Maddie, I’m getting over it my own way, I’m fine.” He says once again, wondering how many times he’s said that in the past few weeks; and he’s wondering why he can’t force himself to believe it yet.

“You’re not dealing with it, though. And you don’t need to deal with it on your own.” Maddie’s voice is soft when she speaks again, and Buck doesn’t even respond to what he had said. “You’re hoping that if you keep saying you’re okay then it’ll come true.”

“Look I gotta go.” That is how that Maddie knows she’s hit the nail on the head, because Buck just does what he can to get out of the conversation; running away from his own problems so they won’t hurt him. And it causes her to sigh, because when Buck doesn’t think she’s knows she’s hit a dead end and Buck isn’t going to open up any more; despite how much she wishes that he would. “Just…” Maddie allows herself to pauses, because no matter what she says next Buck isn’t going to admit anything else, he’s done with this conversation. “Just drive safely, and text me when you get home.”

Buck nods his head as he grabs his jacket from where it was sitting on the kitchen island and his shoes before he allows Maddie to pull him into a tight hug, allowing her to hold him for a few moments longer than normal. “I love you, Evan.” She says gently in his ear, pulling away and taking a moment to place a hand on the side of his face; smiling so sadly up at her brother. “Love you, too.” Buck says back, and then Maddie can only watch as her brother walks out the door; a frown on her face the entire time that she watches him go.

EDDIE

Riddled with sleep, Eddie reaches out to pull Buck’s body closer to his own only for his hands to be met with the cold sheet on the mattress, lacking a certain someone. Opening his eyes tiredly, Edie looks over to see that Buck’s side of the bed is empty and has been for a while, causing the older male to frown in confusion. Groaning as he rolled over, and he looks at the clock that reads three in the morning, far too early for anyone to be up yet. Sighing, Eddie pushes himself up from the bed and begins his trek down the hall, searching for his boyfriend.

The first place that Eddie thinks to check is the living room, having found Buck there a handful of times in the past when the younger male wasn’t able to sleep; watching whatever was on to distract himself. But when he reaches the room, he’s greeted with the darkness and quietness that shows it’s empty, not even able to make out Buck asleep on the couch. It’s obvious he’s in here and for a moment Eddie frowns, he had really expected his boyfriend to be in here watching television. Biting into his lip, Eddie makes his way into the kitchen in hopes that his boyfriend would be in there, only to be once again proven wrong by no sign of Buck.

For a moment, Eddie stands in the dark kitchen confused because he doesn’t have that many options left as to where Buck could be; and he can’t help but be worried.

The firefighter is about to make his way back into the bedroom so he could retrieve his phone and call his boyfriend, only for something to catch his eyes when he begins to walk. He looks over to the direction of the front door and sees it slightly open, the outdoor light flicked on, and he makes his way towards the direction with a frown.

Opening the door, he sees that Buck is sitting on the steps with a jacket wrapped tightly around his body, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as he takes calming deep breaths. “Buck? What are you doing out here, baby?” He questions as he moves to sit down on the steps beside his boyfriend and wraps arm around the younger man’s shoulder to bring him closer to his chest. Buck doesn’t hesitate to lean his head on Eddie’s shoulder and close his eyes, soaking in the comforting that his partner brings him.

“Woke up an hour ago, couldn’t get back to sleep.” Simply explains Buck, and Eddie can hear the tiredness that drags down Buck’s voice, can hear the roughness in it. “Nightmare?” The older man questions with a light tone, soaking in the cool night air as he holds his loved one close to his body; everything around them is calm and quiet.

“Mhm.” Is the only confirmation that Buck gives Eddie, the way his response sounded was clear that he didn’t want to talk about his nightmare, and Eddie wasn’t going to pressure him into talking if he didn’t wish to. So he allows them to just sit there in silence, knowing that if Buck wants to talk about his nightmare than his boyfriend was here to listen to him. But Eddie was going to allow his partner to deal with this at his own pace right now, the most he can do and is just be by his side to comfort him.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s head back to bed.” Eddie voices up a few minutes later, looking down and pressing a soft kiss to Buck’s head and waiting for his boyfriend to nod in response. “Okay.” Is the worded answer he gets, but neither of them move for a short moment. Finally, Eddie is the first to move and pulls Buck to his feet by his hands. Eddie smiles when he pulls Buck’s body against his own, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips when the younger man wraps one arm around his neck and the other gripping the front of his shirt.

Eventually the two make their way into the house, Eddie keeping Buck’s hand tightly within his own as he takes a second to close and lock the front door before they make their way down into the bedroom. On the way, Eddie looks back when he feels how Buck pauses in front of Christopher’s door, biting into his lower lip before sighing and shaking his head to himself. He’s about to walk forward toward their bedroom when Eddie stops him, sending his boyfriend a knowing look as stopping him from walking away. “You wanna check on Chris?” Buck only hesitates for a moment, biting into his lower lip before he nods his head and smiles at his boyfriend gratefully.

Eddie had guessed when Buck had stopped in front of Christopher’s door that his boyfriend must have had a nightmare about the Tsunami, and he knew that checking on the young boy would help Buck a lot. Eddie can’t even count the number of times he’s found Buck in Christopher’s room, just making sure that the kid was really here after having a nightmare about the Tsunami; it would always help to just make sure that Christopher really was here and safe. “Alright, we can do that.” Eddie says, quietly opening the door and allowing Buck to poke his head into the room.

The reaction is instant, Eddie watches as Buck’s body seems to melt as the stress and worry leaves his body at the sight of Christopher sleeping soundly, and safe, in his bed. “Come on, you need to get some sleep, love.” Eddie’s voice is filled with nothing but love and patient as he directs the younger man out of the room, Buck following his boyfriend after him without a word.

Eddie lays down first, allowing Buck to take his time as he crawls into the bed; taking his place curled up against the short of the two men. Eddie lets Buck rest his head against his chest, using the hand of the arm holding Buck to run fingers through his hair, his other hand rubbing up and down Buck’s arm.

“I’m sick of not being able to sleep, Eds.” Buck suddenly speaks up, and all Eddie can do is holding him just that little bit tighter and closer. “I know, love. I know.” Whispers the older man, because this was a conversation that needed to be have tomorrow, when both of them were more aware and awake. “For now, just close your eyes and listen to my breathing, okay?” Eddie instructs, feeling the younger man nod his head against his chest when the other man moved to lie on his back. “Match my breathing, close your eyes and take some deep breaths.” Eddie’s voice is extremely soothing, and Buck allows himself to close his eyes as he does as is asked of him; taking deep breaths that matches Eddie’s own.

It takes a while for Buck to be soothed off to sleep, but Eddie doesn’t fall asleep until he feels Buck’s breathing even out and his body sags against him.

While Eddie wishes that he could have spoken to Buck about everything that’s been going on but he knows that Buck needs all the sleep he can get. So for now, he forgets about everything that he wants to talk about and allows himself to follow his boyfriend to sleep.

EVERYONE

Athena had been expecting something like this to happen sooner or later, because every time that she saw Buck she could see that the young man was one step closer to just breaking down. And even though the woman had expected it to happen, it doesn’t mean that it didn’t break her heart when she watches Buck sob onto the decking of her backyard.

The day had started off so nicely, the team being invited over to the Nash-Grant household for a bi-weekly dinner; and everything had been wonderful. And Athena can’t be sure what had started it, or why it was even a conversation. But they were talking about their near death experiences, the entire time Buck had been silent and seemed to have zoned out while everyone jokes and laughed about it. That had been followed by Buck excusing himself as tears slid down his cheeks, only making it to the decking before he had burst into a fit of sobs.

Everyone seemed to freeze in shock and surprise while Bobby and Eddie moved quickly, the duo running to either side of Buck’s side when the younger man collapsed to his knees as he sobbed. “Hey, shh, shh. Just breath, love. You’re okay.” Eddie whispers, allowing the firefighter to fall against his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend. “I-I can’t lose you guys! I can’t!” Hen moved forward as Buck spoke, eyes filled with compassion and sadness as she sat in front of the fallen man, taking one of his hands tightly into his own, not saying anything but allowing the man to know that she was here for him.

“We’re all right here, Buckaroo.” Chimney explained as he also moved closer, sitting between Hen and Bobby and placing a hand on Buck’s shoulder, whose crying hasn’t eased up. “We’re here, buddy. We’re still here, we’re with you.” Chimney says again, thinking back to the conversation that he had with Buck and everything the younger man had admitted, his heart breaking when he thinks about how long this has been weighing Buck down.

“We can’t promise to always be safe, not with our job.” Bobby begins, and places a hand on the back of Buck’s head that coax’s the younger male to look to him with red rimmed eyes. “But we can promise that we’ll always fight to back to this family, come back to you, kiddo.” Smiles Bobby so lovingly, and Buck sniffs as he takes Bobby’s hand that was on his head into his own hand, not moving from where he was leaning against Eddie. Maddie walks over now, tears sliding down her face as she sits behind her brother and presses a kiss to the back of his head.

“You’re not alone, Evan. Not anymore, you’re here with family.” She whispers, Buck’s crying still having not eased up despite him nodding his head at the words she had uttered. “I-I know, it’s just… You guys are all I have, I can’t lose you.” Buck finally admits everything; explain what had been weighing him down. “And every time I close my eyes, all I can think about is how close I’ve come to losing each of you. It fucking terrifies me.” He sobbed, Eddie holding him closer and rubbing a soothing hand across his back and he pressed a kiss to the top of his boyfriend’s head.

“Kiddo, how would you feel about going back to therapy? Meeting with someone else?” Bobby questioned, asking that last bit after seeing that small bit of panic in the younger man’s eyes when he looked up at him. “We can chose the therapist together, but I think seeing someone about this would really benefit you, son.” The Captain’s voice is filled with understanding when he speaks, and his eyes hold nothing but concern and love for the man sitting in front of him.

“I might know just the person for you, Buckaroo. They’re wonderful and might be the best fit for you.” Athena said suddenly, walking over and standing behind her husband; smiling down so encouragingly when Buck looks up at her. After a moment of silence, and briefly looking at his boyfriend who just smiles so softly and patiently, he nods his head as he looks back up at the older woman. “Y-Yeah, okay. Yeah.” He whispers, releasing a breath he didn’t realise he was holding as he allows his body to sag back against Eddie; drained and tired.

“But right now, you and Eddie are going to go into the spare bedroom, and you’re going to get some rest.” Athena says, everyone stepping back when Eddie helps Buck climb to his feet; holding him close still. He only lets go of the man that he loves when Athena steps forward and bring the younger man into her arms, holding him so tightly as if letting go would mean him disappearing. “You’re running on fumes, and you need rest. So go, we’ll wake you both up when dinner is ready.” Bobby added on, placing a hand on Buck’s shoulder when Athena pulls away from the hug.

“T-Thanks, guys. I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting.” He utters, feeling a little guilty about how worried all of them have been about his wellbeing lately, but it does make him feel so loved that they cared so much about him. “Hey, don’t apologise for this, okay? You’re allowed to have feelings, you’re human. And you’ve been through a lot.” Hen says seriously, smiling at her best friend as she pulls him into a hug of her own. “You’re feelings are completely valid, Buckaroo.”

Eddie, who had been watching with a smile, can easily see that Buck is feeling a little overwhelmed with everything that had happened so he excuses them and says that they’re going to go take up that offer to get some sleep; he can see Buck badly needs it. Leading a tired and sluggish Buck into the house, Eddie holds his hand so tightly as they make their way into the said spare bedroom.

“I would be so lost without you guys; I love you all so much.” Buck whispers despite only talking to Eddie now, who sits him down on the edge of the bed and begins kicking off his own shoes and jacket while Buck does the same. “And therapy might be the best idea; I’m just worried about it.” And Eddie understands why Buck is worried, and everything he is scared about is completely justified and valid; and Eddie isn’t ashamed to admit that he would be the same as Buck.

“I know, love. But if Athena trusts this person, then I’m assuming they’re a safe bet. What happened with her won’t happen again, sweetheart.” Eddie feels like he can promise this, especially if Athena had been the one who was going to give them the name of someone that she trusted; especially after the event with Buck’s previous therapist taking advantage of him. “And we’re here for you, because we love and support you.”

And for the first time in so long when Buck smiles up at his boyfriend it’s genuine and real, even though it’s something small and tired. But it’s real and that is enough to make Eddie feel as though everything is going to be okay soon. Not now, maybe not within the next year, but things will be okay.

#anonymous #prompt fill #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bobby nash #athena grant #hen wilson #howie han #maddie buckley #buck x eddie #i am so tired now #but i hope this is ok #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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