#and then i remembered that the no-nametag girl also stopped me on my way home from work one day a couple weeks ago

[coffinbutch]

I'm being approached by Christians on the street more frequently lately.... what's up with that

[fridaythe13ththeseries]

Reflecting - Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

With Ryan safely at their friend Birdie’s house, Micki and Johnny rushed to the hospital. Worried about what had become of Rashid and Mrs. Dallion, and what Jack was going through back at the mansion, they drove together in silence.

Johnny was thinking about how Micki would be, once Ryan went back home with his mother. He remembered how hard it had been for her the first time Ryan went away. He wasn’t looking forward to that again, her sadness, her snapping at him. Listening to how Ryan would do this or that differently.

He glanced quickly at Micki, sitting in the passenger seat. She was biting her nails. Suddenly he felt selfish and petty. Maybe Ryan was better than him, after all. Or maybe the comparisons between them didn’t exist anywhere but in his head. After all, he had met Ryan, before he had been transformed back into a ten-year-old, and he liked him alright. He was a good guy, a regular guy. Maybe the comparisons to Ryan would stop if Johnny stopped trying to be someone else, someone other than Johnny.

He squeezed the wheel a little tighter as he drove, weaving in and out of the morning traffic.

Micki looked over at Johnny and was about to say something about slowing down, but changed her mind. She wanted to get to the hospital just as fast as he did. Had she been driving, she would have been as reckless as him.

She turned back, looking out her own window, her thoughts going to Johnny and Ryan. She knew Johnny was having a hard time dealing with Ryan’s return, even if he was just a boy now. Johnny imagined this competition between himself and the memory of Ryan. Biting her lip, she wondered now if she had helped to perpetuate it by being harsh with Johnny, especially in the first few months after Ryan left.

Johnny was a really good guy, and he had been through a lot. He also gave up plenty to help her and Jack get back the antiques, as well as run the shop itself. Whether she had meant it or not, she hadn’t been fair to him, and she resolved to change that. Once this was all over and done with.

Johnny pulled the Mercedes into a parking spot and turned the engine off. He turned slightly in the seat to look at Micki.

“Okay, so, what’s the plan here?” he asked. “We can’t just barge in, asking if some lady and an odd mystic were brought in. I mean, hopefully they are both fine. But if they aren’t, how are we going to explain it all without dragging the cops into it?”

Micki thought about that and had no answer. “We have to find out, somehow. This is Ryan’s mother we’re talking about. And Rashid, Jack’s best friend. We can’t just leave them here to fend for themselves. Especially if they’re hurt or… something.”

Johnny nodded. “Okay, well, then we should just play it by ear. Go inside, wander a bit, see what information we can uncover and go from there.”

Micki agreed and they left the car, heading for the emergency room waiting area. Once inside, they scanned the waiting room. Neither Mrs. Dallion nor Rashid was present. Micki made her way over to the reception desk. A volunteer candy striper was manning the desk. She was a young girl, either in her late teens or very early twenties.

“Excuse me, uh,” Micki looked at her nametag. “Mandy. Hi, I was wondering if you could help us.”

The girl looked up at Micki, and her face showed she was either very tired or eternally uninterested. “Yes? Help you with what? Are you hurt?” she asked Micki, already pulling out a form and attaching it to a clipboard. “You need to fill this out.”

Micki smiled. “Um, no. You see, my, um, boyfriend here doesn’t get along with his parents. We were told they were coming to the hospital and were hoping you could help us find them, or at least let us know if they are okay?”

Mandy sighed audibly and it was all Micki could do not to remind her that she was volunteering to be here, to help people. Yelling at the girl would just make things worse, so Micki just smiled politely.

“Name?” the girl asked, looking down at a sign-in sheet.

Micki tried to get her own look at the sheet, but couldn’t read any names. She said to Mandy. “Um, could you try ‘Mrs. Dallion‘, please?”

The girl scanned the sheet. “Nope, no Mrs. Dallion. Sorry.”

Before the girl zoned out completely, Micki spoke up again.

“What about the name ‘Rashid‘?” she said to the candy striper. “That’s his father’s first name. Could you try that?”

Again, Mandy sighed. But she scanned down the sheet once more. “Nope, no Rashid, either. Look, what were they brought in for? It would help to have more information, you know?”

Micki smiled, said a small thank you and walked away from the desk. Johnny was standing at a bulletin board, so Micki walked over to him. She was about to speak when Johnny raised a finger to hush her.

Two men who had been standing nearby, chatting, walked off in different directions.

“What was all that about?” Micki asked.

“Those two are janitors or something. I heard one of them say something about a van that drove up and dumped some people by the service door.” Johnny said, keeping his voice low so only Micki could hear.

“Service door? Why not the ER?” she asked, perplexed.

“No clue. But Micki,” he added, pausing to look in her eyes. “They said one of them was D.O.A.”

Micki gasped, her hand going to her mouth.

Johnny looked around and found a wall with a directory board nailed to it. He pulled Micki by the arm, and scanned the departments. Finding the one he wanted, he put his finger on the name.

“The morgue?” Micki asked, the thought making her stomach turn.

Johnny merely nodded, pulling Micki after him down a long hallway. They decided to use a staircase to go down to the morgue. A stealthy approach was better than riding the elevator and hoping no one was there when the doors opened.

Needing to descend only one flight to the morgue area, they were in a long, bright, cold corridor within a minute. Johnny motioned at a sign with an arrow, and they followed it. Before long, the morgue loomed ahead. A voice came from somewhere in front of them and was quickly drawing closer, so Micki grabbed Johnny’s arm and pulled him into the nearest room to hide.

They waited until the voice went past the room they hid in, then opened the door again. Micki looked back upon the room they had used for a hiding spot and she gasped. Johnny spun around to see what had scared her.

Before them, on a metal examining table, lay the lifeless body of Mrs. Dallion, Ryan’s mother.

“Oh no!” Micki said out load. “No!”

Johnny put his hand over Micki’s mouth. “Shhh!” he said. “Mick, you gotta be quiet, okay?”

She nodded, and he could see the tears already welling up in her big eyes. He took his hand away from her mouth, and she walked forward towards the table.

Mrs. Dallion looked broken, twisted somehow. Her face was cut in a few places. Micki touched her hair, fixing it somewhat, not sure what else she could do for the woman.

“Oh Johnny, this is going break Ryan’s heart.” she said, wiping a tear off her cheek. “They had so little time together, this just isn’t fair. Dammit, it isn’t fair!”

Johnny put his arm around Micki, pulling her close to him. “Yeah, I know, I know. She didn’t deserve this. Maybe if I had gone back, I could have….”

Micki let her head fall into Johnny as tears went down her cheeks. “No, Johnny. This isn’t your fault. It’s that man, that Casares. And Uncle Lewis. Once again, his curse has ruined more lives.“

They both stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

A voice from the hall brought them back to the moment. Johnny pulled Micki off to the side, away from the line of sight between the door with it’s glass pane and the table with Mrs. Dallion on it. The owner of the voice went past this room, and Johnny and Micki slipped out and back into the hallway.

Looking down at the rest of the rooms yet to search, Micki suddenly felt overwhelmed. “I don’t know if I can go in these rooms, Johnny. I don’t know if I can see Rashid like that, too.” she said, her voice quavering.

Johnny looked at her. “You stay here, stand guard in case someone shows up. Just tell them you got lost or something. I’ll check the rooms quick, okay?” he said.

Micki just nodded, her gaze going back to the room with Ryan’s mother inside.

Johnny stepped away from her and into the next nearest room. He came out shaking his head. He repeated the step three more times, then pointed at the final room. He slipped inside there, as well.

This time, it took what seemed like forever for him to reappear.

“Nope, he isn’t anywhere down here. Come on, let’s get out of here, Micki.” Johnny said, anxious to be out of this cold, dead place.

“What about her?” Micki asked, indicating the room with a nod of her head.

“There isn’t anything we can do for her. We can report her missing or something later, but for now, we need to concentrate on finding Rashid and helping Jack. Okay?” he answered, looking right at her.

She nodded, another tear falling down her cheek.

They quickly went back up the staircase and out through the ER waiting room. Across the parking lot, they got inside the car and sat down, pausing to catch their breath and process what they had just seen.

Micki was anxious to find Rashid, but dreaded the thought of reentering and searching the hospital. She looked at Johnny and said, “We haven’t found Rashid yet. He might still be in there, maybe in surgery or something.”

A voice from the backseat of the car caused Micki to scream and Johnny to jump in his seat.

“That would be the day I let some hospital doctor wield his knives over me.” Rashid said from behind them.

“Rashid!” Micki yelped, turning around completely in her seat to look at their mystic friend. “I can’t believe it! Are you alright? You don’t look alright.”

He nodded. “I will be fine once I get some herbs and medicines I have at home. Please, can you drive me there?”

Johnny, his heart still racing, nodded and turned the ignition on. He backed the car out of the spot and through the lot, making his way to the road once more.

“Rashid, what happened back there?” Johnny asked, speeding as carefully as he could through traffic.

As the mystic recounted what he knew of the events, he winced. Micki saw he was holding his side.

“You're wounded. Were you shot?” she asked.

He nodded, then said.. “As I said, all will be well once I am at my own home.”

“How did you get away from the hospital?” Micki asked.

Rashid winced again as Johnny hit a bump in the road. “Distraction. It’s all in where you want them to look.”

“And how did you know our car was here?” Johnny said, looking into the rearview mirror at the man and, seeing the pain on his face, driving a little more carefully.

“Let’s just say I had a feeling.” Rashid said, attempting a smile for Micki.

“How did Mrs. Dallion die?” Micki asked, not sure if she really wanted to know.

“I have no idea.” the man answered. “But, I did speak to Jack, briefly while we were locked in the room together. He wanted me to tell you something he had learned just before the chaos in the hallway.”

Micki and Johnny said “What?” at the same time.

“First, he said not to worry about him. He will be fine.” Rashid said, sweat on his brow.

“Yeah, right.” Johnny responded, as he swerved around a city bus. “The other thing?”

“The woman in the mirror, she told Jack her name. He wants you to find out what you can about her, maybe it will help in figuring out how to free her.” He said, adjusting himself on the back seat. It hurt to move, but he needed to stretch a little.

“Well?” Micki asked. “What’s her name?”

Rashid responded, a little breathlessly. “Catherine. The woman trapped in the cursed mirror is Catherine Chandler.”

[abundanceofnots]

a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.

“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.

Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”

It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.

“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”

Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.

This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.

The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.

In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.

He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.

It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.

This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.

Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.

“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.

Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”

“For us. Definitely.”

They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.

How the fuck did they get here?

“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”

“Okay!”

With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.

“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.

“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”

“Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”

“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.

Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”

“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”

“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”

“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”

Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.

“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.

“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”

Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”

“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”

That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.

“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”

“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.

“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.

“Hah. No.”

“You told Mickey yet?”

Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”

From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.

“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”

“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”

The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.

“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.

“Polite,” Lip appraises.

Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”

“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”

They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.

“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”

Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”

“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”

Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.

“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.

Ian gives his brother a pointed look.

“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”

“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”

“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.

“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”

“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.

“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”

“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.

“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.

“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.

“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Told you he was.”

“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”

“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.

Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”

Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”

Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”

Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”

Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”

“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”

“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.

Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.

“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”

Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.

Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?

[bluearson]

Beautiful Girl

Request: Dabi’s sweetheart is insecure and thinks she’s not good enough for him. Warning: This one gets a little bit spicy at the end so look out  You met each other in the winter, on your way to work at a quaint little café. He caught your eye and over your shoulder you swear you caught him checking you out as you walked away. It had been weeks since you saw the stranger and you almost forgot all about the brief encounter you shared. You tried your best to forget about him, you almost even succeeded but there the mysterious stranger stood. You could barely make eye contact when he stood at your register. You exchanged pleasantries and he was gone just as quickly as he came. 

He kept coming back though, and eventually you began holding small conversations with him. Your coworkers even commented on how the last time he came in, he asked if you were working. When they told you weren’t in he thanked them and just left. The news flustered you quite a bit, it was something that stayed on your mind a lot longer than it probably should have. A few days had passed since then, and it still was fresh as ever in your mind. Geez.. how embarrassing it was to admit you had developed a crush on someone you met through work. “Hey Y/N.” The voice cut through your cloud of thoughts like a butter knife. You looked around and there you saw him, that same stranger who you saw often. You opened your mouth about to ask him how did you know my name? When you remembered that you wore a nametag at work, of course he knew your name. “H-Hi” You stuttered out, your cheeks redding as your eyes locked. “Can I help you with something..?” “I believe you can. It’s quite a difficult task you see.. I seem to have a dinner reservation for two. But unfortunately it’s rather expensive to cancel so quickly and I don’t think I could bear to go to dinner all by my lonesome. So, I was hoping that I could take you out to dinner, my treat.” HUH?!  You were dumbfounded and took a step back from him, nearly stumbling over the uneven pavement. He was swift on his feet. His left hand encircled your wrist gently as though you were a fragile thing and he steadied you back onto your feet. “Careful now,” He cooed into your ear “Wouldn’t want you to get a concussion.” His right hand felt warm on the small of your back, the sudden touch nearly made you jump. He was flustering you, and he was enjoying every second of it. Your checks felt so hot you swear you thought he’d call you a tomato. The sound of your heart- could he hear it? It was beating so loud in your ears. This was so embarrassing! You covered your face with your hands and knelt down to the ground. Hopefully if you just made yourself small enough maybe he’d stop teasing you and just go away already. Time had passed, it felt like eons. You peeked through your to see if he was gone but alas, he was right there, squatting before you. You squeaked in surprise. “Sorry to say little mouse, I’m not going anywhere until you give me an answer. Will you be my date Friday evening?”  “Sure.” You offered weakly, you lowered your hands from your face and rose back up. The stranger held out a hand towards you and made a grabbing motion. “Uhm..?” “Phone.” He bluntly replied. You tentatively held out your phone and watched as he entered in his contact information. You looked at the contact name and then back at him. “Your name is D?” “Sorry, first letter only until we know each other better sweetheart. Nothing personal. I’ll be around.. who knows.. maybe I’ll even swing by your little cafe again for some pastries.” He winked at her, “I like to think you made them yourself.” The smug look on his face as he walked away was burned into your memory. Friday evening.  Why did part of you feel like you weren’t going to survive an evening alone with him? You arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before the time that you were texted. You felt nervous but also excited. It wasn’t often that you got the chance to dress up and wear something nice. Your mind began to wonder as you thought about your date.  “Hey” A familiar voice, hot breathe against your ear and an arm suddenly wrapped around your shoulder holding you close. You tensed up initially but relaxed as you glanced over to greet your date with a smile.  “You clean up nice.” You noted that he even tried styling his hair for the evening. “Uhm, sorry if I’ve kept you waiting long.” “Hush little mouse, you didn’t keep me waiting.” He escorted you over to the host and whispered something to them. They nodded and gathered two menus and showed you to your table.  The evening was pleasant, although you spent the majority of your time talking. You weren’t sure if he was listening to everything you said and kept worrying if you were doing something wrong. “Sorry.. if I’m blabbering on and on, you can always tell me to stop talking if you don’t care.” “I like listening to you talk, I like your voice.. and I like the things you have to say. I’m sorry I’m not really much of a talker. I don’t really like to talk about myself and well.. I’m just enjoying the view.”  You smiled at him but on the inside you were absolutely freaking out. You weren’t sure you heard him correctly but asking him if he said what you thought he said was a million times worse.  Winter had come and gone and Spring was in full swing. You still couldn’t believe that the same man who used to torment you with his flirting was your boyfriend. You’ve been together for a while now. You were certain that you liked him, maybe you were even ready to say I love you for the first time. You muttered it to him, whispered into his chest when you’d cuddle together after a long day at work. But you’ve never clearly told him, “I love you” yet. It was a mix of reasons why, you didn’t know how to anticipate his reaction and that scared you but also deep down you wondered, why he kept wanting to be around you. What made you stand out against the sea of other girls in the world? Why out of all the people he could date, he chose you? You kept this all to yourself of course. He’d send you nice little songs when he was missing you. He’d leave behind his hoodies when he had to go on trips for work. He no longer was the stoic man who’d unrelentingly tease you and try to push your buttons to fluster you. Behind closed doors he was the softest man you’ve ever known. You kept a scrapbook he helped put together with you, it made missing him a little less hard when he’d be gone for long periods of time. When he’d come home, you’d practically jump into his arms as you threw yourself at him. He always managed to catch you, giving your face a full assault of kisses as if to make up for lost time. “I’ve missed you little mouse.” “I’ve missed you too Dabi” You cupped his face as you stared into his eyes and pressed your foreheads together. You weren’t your usual chipper self but you tried to mask it. There was a lot weighing on your mind, namely the whole fact that this man- was your boyfriend. You still couldn’t believe it. Even after your nights of passion, you’d still half-expect that he slipped away during the middle of the night. That or you just had a vivid dream, but the soreness that you felt was far too real to possibly be fake. “Hey Dabi...” You whispered quietly. He hummed in response as he opened an eye. “Is this a dream?” You asked tentatively. “I.. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way or anything but, I’m a little worried about our future together.”  “I don’t know if we’re really there to talk about marriage quiet yet...” He shifted closer, pulling you into a hug. “Unless there’s something else going on that I’m not aware of?” “I just.. I’m a little scared one day you’ll get up and walk out of my life and disappear on me.” You burried your face into his chest as you sniffled, trying your best to not let him see you cry. “I’m not.. there are other people who are better than me. You.. You deserve better than me.” You trembled in his arms. He stared down at you he rubbed your back. “I’m sorry.. that you’ve had people before in your life that have hurt you like that. People who’ve abandoned you.. but I’m not like that little mouse. I love you. Is there something else that you need? Some way that I can prove to you how much I love you?” “No.. the world is full of attractive, beautiful girls. You don’t love me. You’re just making fun of me.. and when it stops being fun to fluster me.. you’ll leave.” You broke down into sobs, you didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want those words at all to come out of your mouth. But still, he held you tight as if it was the only thing that was keeping you from crumbling in his arms. “You’ll get bored of me one day..”  “Is that what you’re afraid of? Not being interesting enough for me? Not attractive enough?” He cupped your chin once you calmed down enough and wiped away your tears. “You’re more than just an attractive, beautiful girl to me though. I think you’re a gorgeous angel. I could never get bored of you.” He planted a kiss on your forehead as he rubbed your back some more. “I’m surprised we’ve made it this far. I’m always so scared that one day I’ll say something too snarky for you. That I’ll tease you so much you end up hating me for it. I never meant for you to feel like I’m just teasing you to make fun of you. I like to tease you because its cute when you blush. I like seeing you get so bashful you try to hide from me.” He grasburped your hand and kissed your inner wrist. “I love everything about you.. I love that you miss me as much as I miss you.” You sniffled as you listened to him. His words soothed you a little.  “I spent so long hating my body.. the way I looked and you.. there you are, a pretty thing, a gorgeous absolute fucking goddess.. sweeter than honey. You don’t care about my scars.. you’ve never asked about them.”  “Goddess...?” You asked quietly.  “Fuck yeah you’re a fucking Goddess.” He grinned at you, “With your permission of course, I’d like to pay worship.” He began planting soft kisses along your collarbone and down your breasts. “So please, as the man who worships you, may I have the privilege of worshipping my goddess?” “Y-Yes.” You nodded as your cheeks grew hot from embarrassment. Dabi peppered your skin with kisses, taking his sweet time especially around your sweet spots. “D-Dabi..” “Yes, my goddess?” He kissed a trail down your stomach. “I love you..” You smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair.  “I know,” He leaned up to capture your lips, “I’m going to make sure you never doubt my committment to you ever again, my dear.. goddess.” Taglist:  @some-kindofgnome @humanitiesstrongestchicken @hecatve @axerrri

[halcyonstorm]

The Girl at the Library Chapter 1

Short Fic - Levihan

Themes: College AU, Library, Fluff, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Female Hange Zoe, Student!Levi

Word Count: 5730

Chapter: 1/3

Warning: Mild Language

Read on Ao3 - The Girl at the Library

Summary: Levi is a college student who needs help on his research paper. Luckily, Hange is a book worm and works at the library. 

Levi was stressed and annoyed, mainly because he was in college. Of course with college comes infinite amounts of homework assignments, 100-question exams with astronomical amounts of topics on them, unnecessary research papers, and staying in a dorm room with a kid that happens to have no problem inviting his friends over every night to hang out and party with no regards to his sullen roommate.

Levi had a paper coming up. He had to come up with a topic, find sources, and finish his paper by the end of the semester. With three weeks left to go, he decided he’d rather get it over with. He began his brainstorming in the study lounge at the center of his dormitory floor. He was starting to stress. He sat on the big yellow leather couch in the way-too-bright study lounge with his laptop in his lap. He tapped his pen against his head as he tried to think of an idea. 

“You have to write about a topic related to your major,” The professor explained. “This is the one and only paper you will have assigned this semester. I suggest you get it done as early as possible.”

If only it were that easy. He had the rubric pulled up in one tab, and a ton of “How to pick a research topic” websites in others. His major was pharmaceuticals, a field he was inspired to take on because of his mother. She was very ill when he was very young, so they were in and out of hospitals. He was sitting on the edge of his mother’s hospital bed when a nurse came in the room to administer her medications. 

“This is…” His memory was blurry. “This medication will help… and make you feel better.” And it did. 9 year old Levi was fascinated. This one little pill or bag of what looked like water helped his mother feel better. Within hours, his mother’s skin went from pallor to beige. Her hands were warmer. She looked more awake, more alive. She didn’t wince at Levi’s touch. She was in less pain. She got better, like the nurse predicted.

Since then, Levi always asked questions whenever they visited the hospitals again and again. “What kind of drug is that?” “What does it do?” “How long does it take to take effect?”

Levi recalled the memory with a deep sigh. He missed his mother. She was at home, not too far away. Levi never had the time to travel the hour through the big city to visit her. When he did have free time, he spent it studying or sleeping. He felt his heart twinge at this. She had sacrificed everything to help him attend college and to give him a good life.

Now with his head cloudy, he went to reach his water bottle in his backpack. He opened the lid and took a sip. At that moment, he could hear some obnoxiously loud students throwing tennis balls back and forth to each other. He recognized these kids too, they were some (of many) of the lovely visitors his roommate had over most nights. Suddenly in the blink of an eye, Levi’s water bottle spilled all over his laptop, a tennis ball on the floor next to him, and some worried voices approaching him. Within seconds, the laptop started to steam and the screen went black.

His laptop was fried, he determined. He felt heat start to rise inside of him. 

“Oh my god, man. I am so sorry,” One of the kids said, trying to hold back a laugh. 

“Yeah, man. We didn’t mean to.”

Levi took a deep breath and stood up. These kids… were gonna pay.

He closed his broken laptop and stood up. These kids were much taller than him, but looked to be easily intimidated by Levi’s presence. 

“Do you have the money to pay for this?” He sneered, getting very close to their faces. 

“Eh… no, but we have jobs! We can pay you back over time,” One of the kids trailed off. They seemed to be intimidated by the short man. “You live in 112 right?”

Levi nodded, his face heating up with anger. “This laptop cost me a lot of money.”

“We get it, man! We said we’re sorry,” the other kid explained. “We’ll pay you back or whatever.”

“Tch,” Levi clicked. He was extremely pissed. These kids should not be throwing balls at each other in the hallway. Also, they spilled his water which made a mess. “Which room are you both in?” They responded with 118. The one kid explained they get paid on the 15th and 30th of each month. Luckily, their pay day was 4 days away.

“I’ll stop by Tuesday, the 16th,” Levi decided, before gathering his things and heading to the stairs. He began to walk through the campus. Fuck, now where was he gonna go? How was he gonna find his topics? His computer was fucked. Putting it in rice wouldn’t have helped. He was so occupied having a debate with himself about where to research, he almost missed it. If he looked the other way or even blinked in that moment, he wouldn’t have seen it. It was the campus library. No, not the campus library, but a campus library. It blended into the surroundings, hidden from the passerbyers. There was a sign in the window “We’re Open!”. 

The library was small, to say the least. It was old fashioned, which contrasted the modern aesthetic of the university. It was a small, dark brown, wooden building with four-pane windows. The door was a lighter shade of brown. He decided it was easier to check out this little library instead of walking another 10 minutes to get to the main library. He didn’t have time to waste. He had to get started with his paper right away. He walked up to the door and opened it. When he did, a little bell rang at the doorway. 

“Just a minute!” A woman’s voice called from the back. Levi decided to wander around. There were many books crammed on the shelves. There were two computers on each side when he walked in. They looked out of place, considering they were very modern compared to the architecture of the library itself. The books were all shades of bright, vibrant colors. It was strange. From the outside, it seemed creepy and gloomy. Once he walked in, it was very cozy. The dark walls of the library contrasted the beautiful colors of the books.

Then, he saw the woman come out. She came up to the desk. He expected an elderly lady with her glasses on a chain, but he assumed this woman was a student. She was a young woman who wore thin oval glasses and her brown hair thrown up in a messy half-up-half-down ponytail. 

“Hi!” The woman said. “How can I help you?”

“I want to use a computer, please,” He announced. He glanced at her nametag which hung like a necklace around her neck. “Hange” was the name on the tag. It was strange and unordinary, but it had a nice ring to it. The name seemed to suit her.

“Sure! You are allowed up to two hours a day,” Hange explains. “You can choose whichever computer you’d like.”

The computers were unoccupied. In fact, the entire library seemed vacant except for him and the employee. 

“Does anyone actually come here?” Levi asked, setting his stuff down next to a desk, and looking her way. She looked like someone who would work at a library. 

The brunette chuckled. “You are my third visitor today!” She exclaimed proudly. It was already about 3pm. He remembered the sign in the front says “12pm-6pm weekdays”. 

Levi chuckled silently, air huffed out his nose. “How do you stay in business?”

“Well, the university thinks it’s good to have a small library in the outskirts of the campus so students have access to books and computers because the main campus library is in the center of the plaza. Sometimes we get about ten people a day, and sometimes they don’t even take anything out. Sometimes I wonder how…” She began to ramble now. She definitely has not had anyone else visit her today.

She was starting to get on his nerves. It’s been 20 minutes since he arrived, and she was still talking. He zoned out until she caught his attention.

“Hey,” She said. “What’s your name? I have to track whoever comes in to use the computers.” 

Why? No one else comes in. He noticed her clipboard with the sign-ins was blank.

“Levi Ackerman,” He announced. She scribbled his name down. “Okay, it’s 3:30 now, so you have till 5:30 if needed.” She pointed to the clock with her pen as she explained. He nodded and proceeded to walk towards the table with the computer he claimed. He sat down and began working.

-

He was an hour into his research when he finally threw his hands up in the air in frustration. He still couldn’t think of a topic. He groaned aloud.

Hange was leaning against the main desk, her nose stuck in a book. “How Trees Communicate” was the title. When she heard the young man groan, she looked up. 

“Is everything okay?” She asked, peering over her book at him.

“Yeah, yeah,” He mumbled. “Fine…”

Hange raised an eyebrow. She placed her bookmark at her spot, then strolled around the desk and walked over to him.

“What are you working on?” She asked, sitting in the seat next to him and put her hands on her knees, looking at him curiously. He scoffs. It was none of her business, he thought to himself. And it’s an invasion of privacy.

He was frustrated and desperate. Hoping for a miracle, he managed to tell her anyways.

 “I need a topic for my paper and I can’t think of any…” Levi began. “It needs to be based on pharmaceuticals, my major. It also needs scientific evidence to back up my research…”

She was fully absorbed in what he had to say. She was bored, so helping Levi would’ve been something to do at least. Besides, Levi was in luck. She was an avid reader, always reading about anything and everything. She was studying plants and botanicals, but she found herself frequently taking out books about cooking; religion; war; animals; and medical topics including surgery, pathophysiology, anatomy, and pharmaceuticals.

“What about how diuretics affect blood pressure?” Hange suggested. Levi was taken aback. His eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head in confusion. “Or if anti-alzheimer drugs actually help slow the progression of Alzheimer’s? Why do you take different medications during certain stages of Alzheimer’s disease? Or how do anti-seizure medications work? That is something I ask myself all the time. You take this little pill and BOOM! You’ll be fine, no seizure! Oh, oh, oh! Or, how certain medications cause certain adverse effects? How come so many medications cause anxiety?” Her eyes started to light up as she talked. They were a dark brown, but when she started to talk, they seemed to morph to a captivating hazel. He felt he could see every color in her eyes. He saw brown and green and the little lines of her iris. Hange’s hands would move as she talked, and her smile grew wide. She couldn’t keep still. She was getting excited by coming up with all these ideas. She seemed so passionate and so willing to help; he was overwhelmed by her.

Levi was in shock. His day started off horrible. Now, he was almost glad his laptop was fucked. This woman was making his mind race with ideas. 

“Are you okay?” Hange asked for the second time within his visit there. Levi nodded slowly. “I am just… How do you know all that? Are you a med student?”

Hange chuckled and waved her hand at him. “No… I am a bookworm! Also, my mom is a nurse, so she used to teach me about nursing stuff all the time. Oh! You could write about the pathophysiology of anticholinergics! Or beta blockers! Or how the body reacts to the use of long-term steroids?”

Levi took a deep breath. He felt euphoric. He had been casually trying to think of topics since last week. All of a sudden, this woman can just ramble off hundreds of ideas? Levi smiled visibly.

“Actually… I really like the final topic you suggested. About steroids.” Levi admitted.

Hange smiled back at him. “Great! I can try to help you find some sources or books.” She directed him to open a new tab and to go to a certain database. “This is where you can find reliable sources. Over here,” She pointed to his screen at the left side. “You can add filters. You can change how old or new you’d like the sources to be, filter out certain words or phrases, et cetera.” She had been closer to him now; she scooted her chair closer so she could explain the database to him. It was hard not to look at her as she explained. She was captivating.

Levi began to type in words for his topic.

“Steroids”, “Long-term use”, “Cushing’s Disease”, “Addison’s Disease”, “Addisonian Crisis”, “Pathophysiology”.

He felt like he was finally getting somewhere. He was finally making progress.

-

As Levi was walking home, he couldn’t get his mind off that girl. He decided to brainstorm about his topic in his room once he got there. The thing was, though, he couldn’t think of any more ideas. He found it funny. Of course he was full of ideas and inspiration when he visited that library, but now he’s void of any.

-

Levi’s weekends were no different than the weekdays. He made it appoint to visit the library again the next day, Saturday. It was a sunny, cool Saturday morning. Levi had inspiration to write. He needed a computer and Hange’s ideas. When he arrived, it seemed busy. There were three other patrons at the library.  He recognized Hange right away, helping a tall blonde man with a big nose. He wondered if she was the only employee there. The man she was helping was taller than her, so she had to reach up on her toes to point to items. She was an average height, but this action made her seem shorter than she actually was.

Hange looked his way and greeted him with a toothy smile. Levi waved at her and started to head down one of the aisles of books. He was in the nonfiction section, but was lost. For now, he just casually browsed the section, but quickly got impatient. He needed Hange’s help to find books for this paper. He heard her laugh with the patron. Maybe he’s a friend, he thought to himself. Her laugh was airy and full of heart. It seemed genuine and passionate. Levi felt an urge to make her laugh, too.

She finally made her way over to him. Levi was looking down at a book when she caught his eye. “Hey, stranger!” She greeted him with a wave. “Whatcha looking for?” She placed her hands on her hips.

“I’m trying to find some sources for my paper. Steroids is the topic,” Levi explained.

“Oh, right. I remember! After you left last night, I tried to look for some books for your topic,” She said. She was trying to help me? Levi thought to himself.

She curled her finger in a “follow me” gesture and he did. She brought him to another aisle or two over from where they were. “These are the 600’s, where you’ll most likely find what you’re looking for. I found a book or two about Addison’s disease, but it’s more of a memoir. You can look around though if you’d like. Anything in the 610’s should be right up your alley.” She explained as if she was going to leave, but she didn’t. Hange looked for books with him. 

After a moment, she made a noise. “Look at this!” She exclaimed. She reached next to him to reach for a book. She was on her toes again. “Mmmm,” She moaned as she tried to reach. “Actually, I’m gonna get the step stool. I don’t think I can reach it.” Quickly, she left and came back with the stool. It looked unreliable, but Levi was sure he’d be able to prevent any accident from occurring. Hange placed it on the ground and stepped up on it, grabbing the book with ease. She stepped down with the book in her hand. This book had a white cover with a blue label and was titled “Coping with Prednisone”. Levi was surprised she even knew what prednisone was. 

“Here!” She reached it out for him to grab. He took it and looked at her face. She had that same look in her eyes. “Did you want to use the computer?” He nodded and she led him towards the front of the library. The library was small from the outside, but very deep inside. It reminded him of a forest. 

“I got your name, don’t worry,” She said, clicking her pen and writing his name down on the sheet. 

“Oops!” Hange made a quick grimace. “I added an ‘e’ at the end. I’ll just cross it out.” The statement sounded like it was addressed to herself rather than to anyone else. She crossed out the extra letter.

“Ackermane”. Levi was gonna attempt to make her laugh.

“If you thought I looked like a horse you could’ve just said so.” 

Mane, horse mane. Get it?

It felt like forever before Hange responded. She looked up at him, starting to laugh. It was a short but audible laugh. Her head nodded back and she smiled. Her cheeks turned pink and her eyes lit up for a moment. It made his heart skip a beat. It was a bad joke yet she still laughed. She chuckled. Giggled? No. Laughed lightly. Chortled? Maybe that’s the right word. Whatever it was, he wanted to do it more, maybe even more than that.

He followed her to the computers. The blonde guy she was helping earlier was on one computer. She led him to the two computers across from the other ones and sat down in the chair next to him.

“What are you doing?” Levi asked, placing the book she found for him on the table.

Her eyebrows raised, and after a moment she reacted. She waved her hands in front of her.

“I’m sorry! I thought you may have needed help. I should get back to work anyway. I gotta go through a new box of books that just came in.”

Levi looked up at her. Is she blushing? he asked himself.

“I’ll let you know if I need help.” Levi responded. She smiled at him before quickly walking away.

-

He started to find some evidence-based practice articles about how steroids can cause long-term side effects, especially if stopped abruptly. He made sure to keep the tabs available. He’d have to cite them later. Levi’s mind was racing with words and sentences and ideas. He had to get them down on paper. He opened Documents on the computer and started typing away.

The clicking of the keyboard soothed him. He was a pretty fast typer, he didn’t make many mistakes either. The library around him began to become quiet as his typing got louder and he got deeper in thought. Before he knew it, his two hours were up. He felt someone approach him from his right.

“Hey,” Hange said, gently tapping the table next to him. “It’s 2pm. I gotta close up.”

Levi snapped out of his focused trance with a quick head shake. “Right. Sorry.” He pulled out a flash drive from his backpack and plugged it into the computer. He transferred his document. “I got the first page done.”

Levi asked himself for a brief moment why he was sharing this information with someone he just met. Maybe since she helped him, he felt she should know.

“That’s great! It seemed like you were really focused,” Hange said, walking away to shut off some lights. Only then did he notice the white noise of the overhead lights quickly dissipate. The room buzzed with silence now. Levi and Hange were alone in the library. Suddenly, Levi felt nervous. He watched Hange walk around the room frantically, making sure to shut off all the lights and computers. She grabbed a bag. The bag was a fabric material with a patchwork design that had a long strap that hung on on her shoulder. Maybe she made it herself. She grabbed her big mess of keys and walked towards him.

“Ready?” She said. He nodded and walked outside, holding the door for her. She thanked him, locking the door behind her. They began to walk down the street slowly. 

“Want to grab lunch?” Hange asked, looking at him. Levi looked back at her. She looked pretty.

“Sure, I can eat.” Hange chuckled at that. He didn’t try, but it made her happy for a brief moment. He seemed nervous but she was too.

They decided to eat at a cute restaurant on campus called “Life in Paradis”. It was a small, dainty place with a green and yellow checkered awning. The building was made of yellow brick, and the door was bright green. There were flower pots outside on the windowsill. Again, this place seemed totally out of place in the modern aesthetic of the university. 

“This place is adorable!” Hange exclaimed. “I love the food here. You’ll love it too. They have all kinds of food here.” Levi felt a smile grow on his face. The way she talked made his heart flutter. She was always so passionate. They entered and got a table for two. This is not a date, Levi kept telling himself. Then why were his cheeks red?

They sat down and looked through a menu. Levi wasn’t extremely hungry even though he hadn’t had anything but tea this morning. He peered over his menu to look at the girl. Her hair was different today, he determined. Today all her hair was in a ponytail, and it was higher on her head. She wore a light yellow button-down with a long, light blue cardigan. Hange caught him staring at her and blushed.

“What would you two like to order?” The waitress asked him first.

“I’m gonna get a sandwich, I think,” He said, crossing his arms across his chest. “Turkey sub.” “I think I’m gonna get a chicken caesar salad,” Hange said. He nodded, grabbed the menus, and walked away.

Hange began to talk about how beautiful the flowers outside the restaurant were. They were all variants of pink, purple, yellow, and red. She described the petals and the leaves, the flowers’ origins, and all the meanings of the flowers. Levi wasn’t annoyed by her tangent this time. He actively listened to this girl talk about what fascinated her so much. He found it soothing. It made him wonder how her brain can contain all the information she was spewing at him. He enjoyed watching the way her eyes lit up when she talked. The beautiful green that blossomed at the bottom of her irises when the light hit her eyes at the right angle. The way her lips curled into a big smile when she talked to him. Her cheeks flush to a light pink when she describes the petals of the flowers or how flowers were used to express feelings when words cannot. It made his heart race. 

“Levi,” Hange said. Her affect was the opposite of earlier when she was rambling. She wore a frown on her face, feeling guilty.“I’ve been rambling… sorry. It’s such a bad habit of mine. I can talk for hours and hours.”

“Don’t apologize, four-eyes,” Levi replied, leaning his elbows and forearms on the table in a crossed position. Hange smiled at him. Levi meant it. She shouldn’t apologize for talking, especially if it’s about something she loves. The food had arrived at the table. They ate. Levi felt the need to open up to her about something. He already learned so much about her, and her presence made him feel like he can open up. 

“I like to run,” Levi said abruptly. Hange looked at him intently, chewing on a forkful of salad. “I don’t do it competitively or anything, but I enjoy running. I try to run once or twice a day.” Hange’s eyebrows raised and she nodded in agreement.

“That’s awesome!” She smiled again at him. “I like to run too. I’m really slow and get tired easily, but I enjoy feeling the wind in my hair and feeling my heart pound.” She took a bite of her meal again. Levi nodded and began to eat too. This sandwich was really good.

-

After talking some more about hobbies and school, they both finished their meal. The waiter brought over the check. Hange reached into her pocket for her wallet.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Levi asked. Hange furrowed her brows.

“I invited you out to lunch. I will pay,” Hange determined, her wallet now in her hands.

“No,” Levi said too quickly. “I will pay. It’s the least I can do. You helped me with my paper after all.”

The bickering lasted a very long minute. Before she got to think of the idea, Levi grabbed the checkbook and shoved his card inside before handing it to the waiter. Hange looked surprised. She sighed, putting her wallet away.

“Thank you, Levi. But you really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

In all honesty, Hange didn’t have much money. She worked at that library four times a week, but the money she made went towards paying off her tuition. She really wanted to treat this man, her new friend. She wasn’t sure if he thought the same way about her. Did he consider her his friend? She felt slightly embarrassed. She did most of the talking and felt like she was annoying him. Maybe he just wanted to pay so she would lay off. 

But the truth is, Levi felt the opposite way of how she was thinking. He was interested to hear more from her. He was addicted to the way his heart raced when he saw her. 

-

Over the next couple of days, Levi would go to that library whenever he was available. He knew it was closed on Sunday, so he went Monday and Tuesday to the library. Fortunately, he got his first batch of money from the brats that fried his computer. He received $100. Of course it was not enough, but it was a start. Wednesday the 17th came around. This specific day was a wild card. The weather was unpredictable. Levi entered the library just in time; it had started to downpour. The little bell rang as he entered the library. To his surprise, Hange was not working that day. There was a boy behind the counter who was tall and had a brown bowl cut hairstyle.  He almost thought about turning around and leaving when he realized she wasn’t there. The rain charged towards the earth viciously, so he decided to seek shelter in the small library. It almost looked like a hurricane. He felt his mood change into a bad one. He didn’t remember to ask how often she worked. 

“Hi there!” The man said. His name tag read “Moblit”. That’s a dumb name.

“I wanna use a computer,” Levi muttered, walking up to the main desk.

“Okay. Name?” Moblit grabbed the clipboard and a pen.

“Levi Ackerman.”

“Oh, I see you’ve been here before. A lot, actually.” Levi scoffed and rolled his eyes at his comment. He turned around, picked a computer, and sat down. He felt really stupid to not ask her about her schedule.

The two hours he spent working on his paper was incredibly slow. He didn’t get much done that day. He had writer’s block. He was almost done, so he didn’t worry about it too much. He didn’t know Hange’s schedule. He knew she worked Friday, the day they met; Saturday; Monday, and Tuesday. Maybe she only worked four times a week? Before he knew it, he asked Moblit aloud. It was almost an accident.

“Uh, she’ll be in on Friday,” Moblit replied. He probably couldn’t give out that information to some creep who began visiting daily with an attitude. He muttered a “thanks” before finishing up and heading out. The weather was holding up for now, so he decided to make a run for it. He didn’t say goodbye to Moblit.

He didn’t have an umbrella. The sun was trying to shine through the dark, eerie clouds. It wasn’t trying hard enough. He heard thunder rumbling in the distance.

Levi realized that this girl was all he thought about the past few days. Something about her enticed him. Something about her eyes and her presence drew him towards her. His heart skipped a beat whenever she’d graze his hand on accident, or even when she just talked to him. She made him happy. He hadn’t had too many friends in college. Although they just met last week, he felt a deep connection with her. 

Suddenly, the sun poked through the clouds for a brief moment. The world lit up. It was at that moment he recognized a familiar face. Hange. She was walking towards him. She grinned when she saw him. She wore a fitted black t-shirt and baggy, light blue jeans. 

“Levi!” She exclaimed. “I forgot my jacket in the library, so I came down to get it.” 

“You didn’t tell me you weren’t working today.” Is all Levi said. Once he said it, he realized how creepy it must’ve sounded. A man she just met happens to go to this library to work on his project every day, who happens to come up with multiple reasons to interact with her. Maybe she thought he was a perv.

“Ehh!” She sighed. “I’m sorry! I thought I told you I was off today.” Levi shook his head. The comment itself may have sounded rude, but it wasn’t. She genuinely felt bad. “Walk with me.” Levi followed. Guess not.

“I don’t work Wednesday’s and Thursday’s. Well I’m not supposed to be,” Hange explained. “Mobilt, one of my co-workers, is always calling out sick. So I basically run the place.” They walked towards the library again and entered. 

“Hey, Moblit. How’s it going?” Hange said in a normal tone, heading towards the back of the library. Moblit responded briefly, following Hange. Levi decided to hang back, he figured it was a secure area. He looked around awkwardly.

“Hange, you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend,” Moblit said, following her towards the back. 

Hange chuckled nervously. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said bluntly. “He’s just a friend.” Moblit scoffed, rolling his eyes. “If he’s not your boyfriend, how come his mood entirely changed once he saw you?”

Hange found her jacket, folding it over her forearm. “Huh?”

“He was, like, in a bad mood when he came in. He used the computer but he seemed to be pissed or something. Now that he’s with you, he seems… tolerable.”

Hange laughed, feeling her cheeks blush. “It’s nothing like that. People have bad days, you know.”

Hange rolled her eyes and smirked, then headed towards the front of the library. “Ready?” Levi nodded and turned around.

“See you Friday,” Moblit called out. “See ya.” Hange replied.

The two started walking down the street. The air smelt of rain, and the ground was wet from the rain earlier. “Which building is your dorm in?” Hange asked. He was a bit surprised she asked him that, and she was so direct about it.

“Saint Maria,” He replied. She smiled. “Me too! I can’t believe I haven’t seen you around!” The wind picked up and the sky turned darker than before. They both looked up. “If you can’t make it to the library, you can use my desktop in my dorm room,” Hange offered. Levi’s cheeks turned bright red. 

“Thanks, maybe tomorrow I can stop by,” Levi said. It was more of him thinking aloud than a statement. It was too late though, Hange already heard him. He could’ve sworn he didn’t say it aloud.

“That’s fine! I only have a class early tomorrow morning. Come by around 11, okay? My room number is 506.” Levi nodded. Thunder rolled and sounded closer now. They were almost at the dormitory building when it started to downpour. The rain was forcefully coming down on the two. Levi groaned in annoyance. He hated being in the rain. He hated being wet; he hated the wet socks and how gross he felt when it rained. He would’ve started to run to the building to seek cover, but he was taken aback by his new friend.

She was soaked and embracing it. She lifted her head up to face the sky and she laughed. It was loud, happy, genuine, and it took Levi’s breath away. Hange reached her hands out wide and spun around. He saw a strike of lightning light up the sky. He stared at her in awe. His heart swelled. Levi smiled big. After laughing, Hange looked at Levi and shared the look that he wore just a few moments ago. She loved his smile. She wished to make him smile more. She was also determined to make him laugh, too.

She grabbed his hand. “Let’s take cover!” And she pulled him into the dormitory hall. Saint Maria’s hall was beautiful. It had ceiling-to-floor glass pane windows that were always crystal clear. There was a big black modern chandelier that hung from the ceiling. It contained visible light bulbs. Hange secretly loved it. There were the same big, yellow, leather couches in the living room as there were in the study area on his floor. They both wiped their feet off on the big rug in the entryway. 

“I love the rain,” Hange deduced, turning her head to look at him. As if Levi couldn’t tell. Her hand was still holding his. Levi looked up at her. “I like it, too.”

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow: day 4

Character A is desperate to find a particular item (book/toy/etc.) as a present for someone, but it’s been sold out everywhere. Character B helps.

Percy nearly slams into a brick wall because of how fast he’s running. He doesn’t have time to actually stop and apologize to the poor child he’s almost trampled as he continues running. He has to make it to the store before it closes or else he’ll never forgive himself.

He tried so hard not to go Christmas shopping last minute, yet here he was on Christmas Eve panicking that the store is going to close before he can make it in. His mom had seen a pretty ring she fell in love with, and Percy had shoved it to the back of his mind in an attempt to remember to get it for her. He had remembered to get it— it just happened to be on December 24th that it happened. It was also just his luck that every one of the jewelry shop was sold out except the one that was furthest from him.

His mom is the sweetest person in the world, and yes, the ring hurt to buy, but she put him through college so he figures he can return the favor.

Percy barely makes it into the jewelry shop on time, but him sliding through the door before it locks counts. As he enters the store, he finds it alarmingly empty, and he turns around, worried that he might have just broken in on accident. He checks the time, one minute until closing, and only feels a little bad for the workers.

He makes his way around the store quietly, looking through some of the glass cases. He doesn’t find the ring, and he begins to think that he’s out of luck and will have to tell his mom that he’s a failure, but then he spots another rack of rings along the walls. He walks up carefully up to it, but he hesitates as he sees the glass case open.

He tries to keep his distance from it as to not seem too suspicious, but then he catches sight of the ring, and there is no one else around. He considers waiting, but he has to be home soon and there’s no one around, so he ends up grabbing it anyways. He inspects the band size, wonders if it’ll be the right size for his mother.

It’s really pretty, he thinks. There’s a big gem in the middle, and she had loved it in that catalogue he stole from her. He even notices the matching set of earrings next to it, and he just knows his mother will be so happy to get it. He brings it closer to his eyes, and it gleams, and—

“I hope you’re planning on paying for that.”

Percy jumps, looking towards the voice. He spots a girl leaning against the wall, her arms crossed and eyes expectant. Her grey eyes seem to piece directly to his soul, and he can tell from the single look that she fully thought he was about to book it.

“I was just—” He swallows. “I wasn’t going to steal it.”

“Hm.”

“I just needed to buy the ring, and I couldn’t find anywhere, so I just picked it up to look at it! I wasn’t going to just take it! I– I’m not a thief!”

In his ramble, she turns more towards amused, nodding along with his story. She pushes off the wall to walk behind the counter. “Next time, maybe don’t walk into a jewelry shop and just start grabbing things. Especially not if you snuck into the shop.”

“I didn’t sneak in,” he mumbles.

She holds a hand out, and it takes him a moment to realize that she’s demanding the ring he still holds in his hand. He gives it to her, and she says, “I’m pretty sure walking into a store after closing when no one’s around qualifies as sneaking in.”

“It wasn’t closed yet,” he points out.

She doesn’t respond, instead choosing to look over the ring. He stands there awkwardly, eventually diverting his eyes to anywhere else around the room. He must have been so distracted that he hadn’t even noticed the way the shop was decorated. He guesses that she must be one of the owners, and he has to say that he likes her taste in décor. Instead of the usual red and green themes, she seems to have taken the more Winter Wonderland route. There is white along every wall, and sparkling silvers lining the tables, everything pulled together by the white and silver Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

“I like the decorations,” he tells her.

She just smirks, and he imagines that she says something along the lines of I’m sure you do in her mind. He reads her nametag — Annabeth. He thinks it matches someone with her personality. Pretty, but has that edge to it take makes people tremble with a single look. A name really does say a lot about a person, and hers fits her perfectly. He has to admit that he’s intimidated by her, but he’s also drawn in.

“It’s a pretty ring,” she says, setting it down onto the counter in front of him before reaching for something underneath the counter, giving him a wry smile. “She’s a lucky girl.”

He just hums, still too busy analyzing her. Then, he realizes that she thinks he’s about to be engaged, which was definitely not the case, and he didn’t want her to think that either. “Wait. No. It’s for my mom.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They fall back into a painful silence as she rings him up. When she speaks again, it physically pains him to hear, “That’ll be five-hundred twenty-three, and fifteen cents.”

He’s sure his eyes practically bulge out of his head, but he reaches towards his pocket for his wallet. He shoves his hand in, mumbling, “I’m not going to be eating for the next few months, then.”

She must have heard him because she laughs. “That bad, huh?”

“How could a ring possibly be so expensive?”

“I mean…” She raises an eyebrow, smiling. “You did choose a family business to get it from. Handmade.” “Aren’t all rings handmade?”

“Ours are made with love.”

“Made with love,” he mumbles. “Right.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. He reaches into his other pocket for his wallet, and only starts to panic when he feels nothing there. He pats his sides frantically, and Annabeth gives him a look.

“You good?” she asks when he keeps searching his pockets.

“I can’t find my wallet.” And this is mortifying, because he just wants to get home and not make a fool of himself in front of this pretty girl, but it looks like neither of those things are going to happen. His vision that one spot on his couch that he’s almost certain he left his wallet on. His hand drops from his side, defeated, embarrassed. “I left it at home.”

“You left it at home?” she repeats.

Percy can’t even speak to confirm it, knowing that if he opens his mouth, he’s just going to start crying. He’s a full half-hour away from home, and the shop is closed, and tomorrow is Christmas, and he is inevitably screwed.

“On Christmas Eve,” she says, mirthful, “you left your wallet at home.”

He pouts. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not,” she swears, but her lips are turning up.

“It’s not funny.”

She brushes away her blonde hair from her face, smiling fully. She pinches her fingers together as she says, “It’s a little funny.”

Percy’s nervous, but when she starts to laugh, he can’t help but do so himself. He doesn’t know her, but he feels comfortable in this moment, listening to the sound of her voice that reminds him of a warm winter day, spent inside with the ones he loves. Before he can help himself, he’s already imagining that she’s the one he’s spending the winter day with.

He bites his lip in a smile as she continues to snicker at him, and he is absolutely captivated by this girl making fun of him. Everything about her fits in perfectly right now, her name to her personality, her curled hair framing her face, herself to Percy.

“Do you need to run home?” she asks, eyes still gleaming.

“You’re closed,” he points out.

“I’ll wait if you need me to.”

“I’d feel bad holding you here on Christmas Eve. It’ll be at least an hour.”

“I don’t mind.” She pauses. “What’s your name, so I know who to report if I find anything stolen?”

“Haha. Funny.” A beat passes. “I’m Percy.”

“Then really, Percy, I don’t mind waiting.”

Percy debates it for a moment. He knows it’s not polite – she has people waiting for her to get home too, he’s sure – but it gives him an excuse to come back and work up the courage to maybe ask her if she’d want to get something to eat with him at some point.

“Are you sure?”

She rolls her eyes fondly. “Go.”

Percy wastes no time in turning around and booking it. He drives what is way too fast, and he makes it home in only twenty minutes. He may have run Santa over. He doesn’t really know.

He practically trips running up the stairs to his apartment, and when he unlocks his front door, he snatches the wallet from the couch before doing a complete U-turn. The drive back is a little longer, but he makes it quickly enough. He tugs open the door to the shop, and spots her along one of the other walls, fixing up the display.

He notices that she’s taken the jacket off that she had on earlier, and he suddenly feels another wave of guilt as he realizes she must have been about to leave before he popped in.

She turns her head at the sound of the door chiming, and he holds up the wallet. “Got it.”

She smiles, waving him over to her again. “I’m glad to see it.” She helps him pay quickly, and then he suddenly doesn’t have another excuse to stay any longer. He doesn’t leave as he pockets the small box. He truly doesn’t know why he so badly wants to stay because he barely knows her, but maybe that’s what it is. Maybe he could know her, and if he does, something tells him he’ll fall in love with her.

“So,” Percy says.

“So,” Annabeth teases.

He glances out the glass windows at the front of the small store. “It’s really cold outside.”

“Is it?”

He looks at her, and that humor is back in her eyes. “You’re making fun of me again.”

“This is too funny not to.”

“This is humiliating, and you’re not helping.”

She gives him a soft smile, and she comes around the counter to throw her black long coat on. She comes up close enough to him that he can smell her perfume; she smells really good, a warm scent on an icy day. She tugs her hair out from the back of her coat.

“Ask me,” she urges.

It’s then that he knows she does feel the same thing he does. She feels that fascination at the possibility of what they could make and what could they be. It provides Percy with the boost of confidence he needs.

“I don’t have to do anything else today,” he says, a silent offer. “I know Central Park is nice this time of year. We could go there for a walk?”

And she grins. “Central Park is nice.”

“Maybe we can get something to eat?”

“I’d like that,” she says. She begins to walk to the door, and she looks over her shoulder. “You coming?”

Percy follows her steps, and he begins to think of the future. There’s something about this moment that whispers to him that they are going to turn into something incredible. She just fits him, the pure definition of perfection, and he wants to see where this takes him.

So he follows her out the door into the Winter sky, the snow falling upon their heads, snowflakes delicate on her eyelashes, and when he grabs her hand later that night, she feels warm and safe.

When she kisses him in the middle of the city that never sleeps, he falls in love.

[talkfastromance4]

/clementine/part 3: Ashton Irwin

Thank you all so so much for giving this new series a chance!🧡It will probably be structured like my Luke&Lily series where I’ll have open discussions about this family with little blurbs and then some one shots like these. Catch up below and please tell me what you think! Much love🧡

Part 1 // Part 2

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: sweet moments, mentions of pregnancy

Masterlist

•••••

Preparation for the baby began minutes after Y/N and Ashton celebrated the happy news in their garden and after many photos that Ashton took. He had her pose in the swing then sit on the edge of the pond so the vases could be seen behind her. She thought his excitement was so wholesome it wasn’t hard for her to have a genuine smile as he had her hold one of the vases. When he stuck a small orange flower in her hair she used that opportunity to give him a quick kiss.

“I’m so happy you’re happy,” she whispers.

“I’m over the moon,” he grins, eyes twinkling like stars. “Can I ask why you chose the colors orange and green?”

“Uhh…well. I really love your album and it’s like…” she touches her belly lightly, “this baby is our own superbloom.”

More kissing ensued then Ashton was rattling off paint ideas and how the room next to theirs would be the perfect nursery once he finally cleaned out the leftover packing boxes and some of his things he shifted there to make room for her stuff.

He began sketching the nursery right away but kept his drawings away from her until he could color them in, so she’d have the perfect visual of what he saw in his mind’s eye.

Later that night while they were getting ready for bed, after he checked the locks and security cameras he found her in their bathroom with her shirt yanked up to her breasts and her shorts pulled down a little staring at her reflection. She twisted every which way, a glowing smile present. He’s only known for a few hours and she’s already glowing.

It’s not until he shifts his focus from her face to what she was looking at, a small round bump. Ashton becomes transfixed as he admires her and the life that is very apparent growing within her.

“Do you see this?!” she squeals finally turning around to face him.

“I do see, and it’s incredible, angel,” he smiles moving behind her. He places his own hands over the small roundness of her belly then turns them towards the mirror. “You’re so beautiful.”

He rubs her stomach, fingers tickling her skin until she’s sighing against him. “You’re sure you’re happy?”

“I’m beyond happy, angel.” Then he frowns spinning her around so she’s facing him. He turns her chin up. “Why do you keep asking if I’m happy?”

“Because this wasn’t planned, and I don’t want you to feel stuck with me or something…” she shrugs, eyes lowering in shame.

“You can get that out of your head right now,” he cups her cheeks forcing her to look at him. “Remember when I told you there’s no downside to us not using protection? I meant it. Yes, we absolutely should have used protection, but this isn’t a bad thing, yeah? I’m so happy we’re having a baby.”

He kisses her forehead then her lips once, twice, three times. His hazel eyes search her face for more signs of doubt, but he sees the resolve appear.

“Okay, you’re right,” she sighs. “I’m overthinking it. I’m happy too.”

***

As months go on and Ashton continues to clean out the soon-to-be nursery, Y/N’s showing more and more. Their friends and family were ecstatic about the news of their bundle of joy that would be making their arrival in the middle of June.

Ashton has been more than happy being her support as her body continued to change. He made sure she had plenty of fluids, taking all the necessary prenatal vitamins, gave her the best herbal teas and didn’t mind running to the store for her odd cravings. For a straight week all she wanted was an apple and chicken sandwich.

The holidays went by and Y/N had a constant glow about her that radiated to everyone in proximity. Even through her migraines, nausea, back pain and heartburn, she was still extremely happy to be pregnant.

Mornings are spent by Ashton speaking to the baby while he rubs her belly. He and the boys have started working on the nursery and at nighttime Ashton has set up a little woodshop in the garage where he’s making the crib. He wants it to be circular and painted a light green.

She enjoys watching him work, loving the way his muscles ripple and flex, his sweat making his tattoos shine. Her raging hormones were also very apparent and fired at all times. Once, when Ashton came home he saw her crying on the couch because she had a really good sex dream and was very upset when she woke up. As of late, their best position is from behind while laying on their sides, fingers interlocked and Ashton’s lips on her neck. Because of her heightened arousal, her orgasms happened very quickly.

She’s eight months along now, both her and baby are extremely healthy. Her baby shower (that Ashton insisted on attending) is this weekend in their backyard, but the girls wouldn’t let them lift a finger.

They’re sitting out in the garden now watching the fish swim around lazily as dragonflies kiss the top of the sparkling water. The garden has expanded even more with overflowing green ferned plants and a small bird bath.

“I was thinking of having pork chops for dinner tomorrow and don’t forget we have a doctor appointment on Friday,” she tells him while playing with his fingers. They have more callouses now from all of his woodshop making, the crib is finished and drying in the garage. She looks over at him to see he’s staring off into the distance. “Ash?”

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking about so hard?” she taps her fingers delicately on his temple.

“I’m thinking about the night we met,” he sighs bringing his other hand to cradle her belly. “Do you remember?”

“Of course, I remember. Why are you thinking about that?”

“I had a thought that night and it popped in my head just now,” his fingers create soothing circles on her stomach.

“What thought?”

Ashton ignores the question and starts telling the story of the night they met fifteen months ago.

They were strangers then, both of them agreeing to a speed dating night but there was a twist, it was held in the dark. The waiters wore night vision glasses and walked the daters to their tables, fate had Ashton and Y/N be at the same table.

“They really took ‘blind dating’ literally, huh?” she laughed nervously trying to break the tension. She’s only been on less than a handful of blind dates but this one takes the cake.

“Yeah, I get the concept, but I wish I could see you,” he complimented. Her teasing piqued his interest immediately, she sounded feisty but also clever. “You sound pretty.”

“Yeah? How does pretty sound?” she giggled.

“Just like that,” he pointed then placed his finger down since she couldn’t see it. “Your personality is in your voice. You’re funny and witty and your giggle is just adorable.”

“Well, thank you,” she said feeling her face warm up. “You have a nice voice too.”

“I’m Ashton.”

“Nice to meet you, Ashton, I’m Y/N.”

The evening continued with more laughter as they tried to eat their food in the dark. It took them forever to find their forks and couldn’t stop laughing as they patted the table trying to find a knife.

“Maybe we don’t need one?” he asked.

“But it’s chicken! I don’t want to pick it up with my fingers, we aren’t in the stone ages.”

“Maybe it’s already cut?”

“You test it first.”

She listened as his fork stabbed onto the plate, then it clattered while he yelped in surprise.

“Did it bite you?” she laughed.

“No, it’s just very hot! Be careful.”

When the date has ended with a chocolate mint, the host of the blind dating soirée thanked everyone for participating and said if you’d like to meet your date face to face then take the door on the left, if not then come out the way you came. Ashton and Y/N’s nerves heightened, would the other walk through the left door or leave?

She followed the waiter to the left, hoping Ashton did the same. They had nametags on so it would be easy to find your date if you chose to meet them afterwards. She blinked a few times when the light from the streetlamps met her eyes and standing below a hanging flower basket filled with orange flowers was Ashton.

He smiled at her as she approached, her arms crossed over her chest as a slight breeze drifted through the street.

“Nice to put a face to the name,” he said.

Attraction was immediate and after a few minutes of chatting he asked if she’d like to get a coffee down the block. She accepted and told her friend she’d see her later. Her friend was going to a movie with the girl she had dinner with, and they were already holding hands. Y/N smiled that they hit it off right away.

Ashton and Y/N stayed at the coffee shop until it closed, neither of them wanted the night to end so he invited her back to his place. Normally she would never do that on a first date, but the way she and Ashton connected was unlike any other first date.

He gave her a tour of his house then turned on some music that floated outside onto the patio where he flicked on the small bulbed lights. He noticed she kept shivering and made a fire in his small pit, thankfully it was gas so it would warm up quickly.

“Thank you,” she smiled leaning closer to the flames.

Conversation was so easy between them, they discussed the universe, books, music, everything under the sun that helped define a person. When Lord Huron’s song ‘The Night we Met’ started she gasped.

“I love this song! I know the lyrics are sad, but it makes me feel like it’s a happy nostalgic song, you know?” she said.

Ashton stood up holding out his hand. “Care to dance?”

She stared up at him in shock, excitement and nervousness flowed through her, but a small burst of confidence had her hand fitting into his. He pulled her from her chair then held her close as he shifted from side to side. As the song continued the electricity between them accelerated.

The song stopped and crickets filled the silence.

“Can you keep playing that song?” she asked quietly.

Ashton nodded taking his phone from his pocket and clicked on the song again, making sure that it would be on repeat. He pocketed his phone then took her hand back in his picking up where they left off on their dance. They inch closer, their interlocked hands cradled between their chests. The yearning song mirrored their actions as his forehead pressed to hers.

On the third round of the song he found his own courage by pressing his lips to hers, soft, warm, and perfect. He felt her nerves slip away with his as the first kiss delved into a kiss that felt like a lifetime. It was new but felt so familiar that transcended time.

In that moment he decided that this was the girl he’s going to marry, start a family with, and dance to music under twinkling lights when they’re seventy-five years old. This blind date opened his eyes to a world of possibilities with her and he wanted them all.

The next day the state of California issued a statewide lockdown and their journey began.

“When we were dancing on the patio and we kissed for the first time,” Ashton says coming back to the present, “I knew then that I was going to marry you.” He leans down and kisses the highest point of her belly before taking her hand.

“Y-you did?”

“I know we haven’t talked about marriage, but…with this little one on the way soon I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“We can talk about it,” she nods.

“What are your thoughts on it, angel? I’m feeling some hesitation,” he smiles but it doesn’t meet his eyes. He concentrates on their hands folded together over their baby.

“No, no! Hey,” she turns his head, so he looks at her. “I want to marry you; I’d go right now and waddle down the aisle, but I just don’t think it’s the best time right now. With the baby coming soon we’re going to be really crazy getting a schedule down and we’re going to be extremely tired…”

“You’re right. I don’t want to rush things. But you do want to marry me?” his hazel eyes widen a little.

“Of course, I want to marry you,” she smiles pecking his lips quickly. “I probably would have married you the night we met to be honest.”

“Yeah?” he grins.

“Yes, crazy boy.”

**

“Come on, why won’t you tell us what you’re having!” Luke whines adjusting his pacifier necklace. It’s their baby shower and one of the games includes wearing a necklace of pacifiers, if you hear someone say the name ‘baby’ you got to take their pacifier. The one with the most won a prize.

Ashton and Y/N had the envelope of the sex of their baby at her four-month ultrasound. Neither of them were really desperate to know so the envelope stayed on their nightstand. Each night they bounced back names and settled on two for either a boy or a girl which they also haven’t shared with friends or family. It’s not that they were scared someone would steal their names, but they liked having it just be known to them.

On the morning of their baby shower she found Ashton eyeing up the envelope after his shower.

“I’ve been thinking about opening it, too,” she smiled picking up the white envelope. Scrawled on the front were the words ‘Baby Irwin’.

“Do you want to?”

They opened it together, tears filling their eyes as they read the one syllable word underneath ‘you’re having a…’ they hugged and kissed in excitement then Ashton kissed her belly.

“Hello baby love,” he murmurs. “We’re having a party for you today, where you’ll be getting lots of clothes and toys. You’re already such a joy, your mama and I love you so much.”

“We’ll tell you,” she nods.

“As soon as Y/N gives birth we’ll let you all know,” Ashton finishes.

Luke was the only one affronted by not knowing, he wants to know the name and everything.

“But that won’t be until the middle of June!”

“Luke, relax. We promise you’ll be the first to know,” Ashton rolls his eyes as he hands Y/N another gift.

They’re all sat by the flower oasis; the fish splash every now and then almost is if they want to know what the gender of the baby is as well. She’s been spending a lot more time in the flower garden, talking to the baby and imagining sitting out here on the swing watching the fish swim.

The nursery is finished, one wall is painted in orange flowers growing up to the ceiling. A green plant sits in the corner next to the teal armchair. Ashton’s circular crib is all set up along with the other furniture in the room and some toys are scattered around. The room is absolutely perfect.

Y/N’s become a bit more emotional now as her due date draws closer. When opening presents are finished and they’re all eating cake (Luke was disappointed there wasn’t blue or pink frosting hiding inside) she teared up.

“Hey, are you all right? Does something hurt?” Ashton asks swiping away a tear from her cheek.

“No, I’m just so happy,” she cries dabbing at her eyes with the peach napkin. “All of our friends and family are here because they already love our baby so much.”

“Oh, angel,” he smiles as she hides her face in his chest. He rubs her back affectionately and kisses the top of her head. “They love you, too.”

As the party dwindled down, she went upstairs to lay down, her feet swell a lot more these days. Ashton helps clean up and brings the gifts inside the nursery. When the last guest leaves he’s exhausted as well and heads upstairs.

She’s sprawled across the bed her pregnancy pillow enveloped around her. That thing was a God send; it was the only way she could sleep through the night without any pain. Ashton was glad it helped her sleep; the only downside was that it was much harder for him to cuddle her close.

He removes his blue silk pants and tugs off his light pink shirt (an outfit choice he wore to mess with Luke) and joins her on the bed. He kisses her forehead, brushing his fingers through her hair then holds his hand on her belly. He feels a slight kick from the baby, and he smiles.

“Don’t wake mama up, baby love,” he smiles, “she’s had a long day on her feet. Take a nap with us.”

Ashton rests his head on the pillow then begins to hum a song until the baby’s kicking ceases and the family of three snooze together until dinner time.

**

Ashton is about to pull his hair out. It’s been two weeks past Y/N’s due date and she’s miserable. They’ve been trying everything their doctor has recommended to induce labor, spicy foods (after it made her cry she tossed that idea out the window), eating bananas, using the exercise ball and walking. But to no avail, their little baby was as stubborn as Y/N and Ashton.

She’s not sleeping well; she gets nearly six headaches a day and can’t stand for longer than ten minutes without her back hurting. Ashton has suggested trying to have sex as that’s the number one trial to induce labor, but she shot that down quick too.

“Ash, listen, I love you and you know I think you’re sexy, but sex is the furthest thing on my mind right now. I feel like a whale and I’m so hot and uncomfortable…”

When tears sprung in her eyes he never brought it up again but still, he wants their baby to arrive now so she’s not in this state anymore. She’s sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table, a fan blasting on high directed right at her.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” he asks leaning over the back of the couch.

“No,” she grumbles rubbing her stomach. “Can we try walking again?”

“Around the block?”

“No, just the backyard,” she sighs trying to sit up. Ashton helps her stand then holds her elbow with one hand resting on her back. “My womb can’t be that comfortable.”

Ashton smiles but doesn’t say anything. He learned two weeks ago that any form of compliment towards her womb accommodations made her angry. She sighs when her feet touch the warm patio then into the soft grass.

They start from the opposite end of the flower oasis where now a small well resides with vines growing up. Ashton holds her hand as they walk through the garden, each section resembling a chapter in this part of their life. It’s filled with color and vibrance and was made from love. When they reach the koi pond, Felix, Oscar and Patricia are gathered together near the edge.

“Can you hand me the food?” she asks.

Ashton removes his hand to grab the fish food and hands it to her. She pops it open then sprinkles the food into the water.

“Do you think they know I’m pregnant?” she asks.

“Maybe…are they like dogs in how they can sense it?” Ashton asks.

“I don’t know. I like to think they know. All right,” she sighs heavily, “lets’ head back inside.”

As soon as she crosses the threshold, she hears a small pop then something trickling down her legs. She gasps and looks down at her feet to see water covering her orange colored toes (courtesy of Ashton painting them since she can’t see her feet). Her water broke. It’s time.

“Um, Ash?” she reaches towards a chair and holds onto it.

“What’s up, angel?”

“My water just broke.”

“In the pond? How? Wait—what?!” he spins from the fridge and stands in front of her. His eyes widen. “Okay, stay right here, let me get you some new pants and we’ll go to the center.”

**

After twelve hours of labor, their baby girl was born on July 1. They both cried tears of joy at the sight of her, her face was a perfect circle with long lashes and an already apparent pair of dimples on her round cheeks. Ashton couldn’t stop staring at her as Y/N held her in her arms, he strokes his finger over her forehead gently. The peach fuzz of her skin is warm and already familiar.

“Here’s our superbloom,” she smiles to Ashton.

He meets her gaze, eyes filled with love and admiration that she carried their baby girl for this amount of time. He kisses her and rests his forehead against hers.

“Our darling Clementine.”

•••••

Taglist: @galcalirwin​ @cashtonasff5sos @thecurlsofgod​ @myloverboyash​ @rotten-kandy​ @tea4sykes​ @jannimoeller3​ @loveroflrh​ @iovehemmings​ @cxddlyash​ @princesslrh​ @here-for-the-uproars @katiaw2​ @g-l-pierce​ @fairyintheglass​​ @gosh-im-short​​ @banditocth @dezzym17 @koalacal @lukeisbaby​​ @spicycal​​ @mysticalhood​​ @notinthesameguey​​ @wastedheartcth​​ @atlcalm​​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​​ @calumance​​ @babylon-corgis​​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​​ @lanternlover2​​ @istaywithmyjonas​​ @calteahood​​ @sarcastically-defensive17​​ @another-lonely-heart​​ @devilatmydoor​​ @frontmanash​​ @philthepegacorn​​ @mantlereid​ @lukedorkyhemmings​​ @addietagglikesbands​​ @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke​​ @mayve-hems​​ @morguelth @haikucal​​ @thatscooibaby​​ @meghanrose05​​ @idontneedanyone​​ @dinosaursandsocks​​ @haveufoundwhaturlooking4​​ @suchalonelysunflower​​ @burstintocolor​​ @zhangyixingxing1​​ @dead-and-golden​​ @mymindwide​​ @everyscarisahealingplace​​ @stardust-galaxies​​ @blackbutterfliescal​​ @redrattlers​​ @lovelybonesetc​​ @karajaynetoday​​ @quasighost​ @i-like-5sos​ @creampiecashton​

[michellejackson]

Jeg har nok kjærlighet for deg og meg

PART ONE PART TWO

Fandom: Druck

Pairing: Fatou Jallow/Kieu My Vu

Wordcount: 1897

AU where Kieu My and Fatou haven’t met yet, but Ismail still steals a tortoise.

or the one where Kieu My is having a shitty day, but a certain aquarium store worker brightens it.

You can read everything on ao3:)

“Dude, are you skipping right now? Like actually skipping?” Kieu My stopped walking and looked behind her where Ismail now was holding the boxed turtle. She smiled, of course not, she said, don’t be stupid. But she said it all with a smile.

“Why are you so happy right now? What’s happening?” they jogged a little to keep up with her, so she slowed down. They were in the mall now; she really hoped the girl was working today.

“I’m just happy to help you out, can’t I find joy in the little things, Ismail?” Ismail saw right thought that, “you barely find joy in the big things, Kieu My.” But they let it go. Taking this small win in seeing her happy.

When they stood outside the shop Ismail didn’t hesitate to go right in, but Kieu My stopped walking for a minute and looked to see if the girl was there, she was. Despite the excitement she’d felt earlier, now she was suddenly filled with nerves, and she didn’t start walking again before Ismail turned around and gave her a “the fuck you standing there for” look. They walked up to the register together.

The girl was alone today, there was no other people on the shop, and Kieu My was glad. The less people to witness Ismail’s stupidity, the better.

Pet shop girl looked up as they approached and their eyes locked, god, she was just was gorgeous as she remembered. Her mouth opened as she talked, but Kieu My didn’t pay attention, her eyes taking all of her in. She looked even better up close. She was wearing a green jacket, the shops uniform, she guessed, with a light purple sweater underneath it, and GOD the color looks so good on her. Around her neck was a puka shell choker, and even though at most times puka shells reminded her of white people going south for the summer and coming back with aggressive tans and cornrows, she gained a new appreciation for them, seeing them on her.

Caught in her head, she didn’t pop back out again before she heard her name. “Wait what, sorry,” Kieu My looked from Ismail to the girl behind the desk, “what were you saying, sorry…” Ismail looked at her with a knowing smile, “you’re Kieu My.” She looked back at the girl she’d spent time admiring,

“yes. Yes, I’m Kieu My”.

She cringed. What the fuck. “Sorry, uhm, hi…” was it too late to be unborn? This was not going as smoothly as she’d hoped. She looked at the girl again and this time searching for a nametag, but she didn’t find any. Would it be weird to ask for her name?

“Hi, Kieu My.” She said, dipping her head in her direction. Kieu My focused on her voice this time, it was light, calm, and so so so pretty. If she could, Kieu My would wrap herself up in it. Even her voice was perfect, how typical. She blushed; this was not the way she thought she would introduce herself. Ismail, her hero at the moment, put her out of her misery and again took the center of attention.

“So, funny story, yesterday my friend and I, not Kieu My, another one, he’s kind of a dick, honestly-”

As Ismail was talking, Kieu My took a moment to look around the store, it was dark and there were big aquariums along the walls. There were loads of aquarium stuff here, a lot of food and props for fishes mostly. The weird thing was, she hadn’t actually seen a single dog collar since walking into the store, which one would think would be an essential for dogs. Since this was a pet store and there’s approximately five million dogs in this country (she did not look that up in some poor attempt to impress the other girl, nope) so it would just be logical to at least- oh. Kieu My tried her hardest not to facepalm. She has never in her life felt more stupid than right now, in this exact moment.

It seemed that in the midst of admiring the beauty of the cashier, Kieu My had failed to notice the simple fact that this was not a pet store, but an aquarium store. For fishes. And they’re here with a turtle. A turtle. God.

She cuts off Ismail in the middle of their rambling, “oh god, this is an aquarium store. I’m so sorry to bother you, I thought this was a pet store!” she looked from Ismail to the girl who seemed relieved to not having to listen to Ismail’s story any longer.

Ismail kept talking though. “Does that even matter?”, Kieu My looked at them, dumbfounded. The other girl laughed though, “if you need anything, I could try my best to help you” she said.

“Oh yeah,” Ismail put the box on the counter, “how does one care for a turtle?”

At this, the eyes of the worker widen, “you’re keeping a turtle in a paper box?” her hands quickly go to take the top off the box, and her stiffen exterior quickly dissolves when she sees the animal. “This is a tortoise” she says, looking at Ismail as if they’re the stupidest person to ever exist. Oh, of course it is, she should’ve known that. What’s going on with her?

Her first reaction was to apologize again, but before she could do that the girls gaze switched to her. “If you thought it was a turtle, why isn’t there any water here? And also, you can’t transport it like that.” Ismail picked up the tortoise with both hands, and the girl spoke up again “why are you holding her like a burger?” at this Kieu My laughed, easing the tension a little.

“They’ve been carrying it like that all day” Kieu My says, smiling at her. She wanted to ask for her name, should she? Mentally preparing herself for it she decided that yes, yes she should. So, she did.

“uhm, wha-” or at least she tried to.

Ismail, who she again had to remind herself was her friend, cut her off, “yes, I just need to know how to take care of her for now, I don’t really know what to do with it to be honest, you can’t keep it in an aquarium here right?” they both look at the girl as she answers with a stern no and a look that honestly says it all.

“Right, so we’ve been feeding her cookies-”

“You’ve been feeding her cookies?” the girl looks at them in utter disbelief. Oh, how bad Kieu My wanted to throw her friend under the bus right about now. She wouldn’t, but GOD she wanted to. She instead stares daggers into them. Hoping at least one would pierce through the skin, just a little.

“You know what? I can take her in the meantime, I know enough to take care of her properly, you can come back when you find her another place to stay or decide to take her back to the zoo.” She said this as if it was final, as if she wouldn’t dare let Ismail try to feed her cookies again, and honestly? That was very hot of her. Even though it would make things a hundred times easier for Kieu My if she let the girl take the tortoise, she knew she couldn’t just dump Ismail’s problems on her.

Since Ismail told her about what they’d done and the results of it, she had prepared herself for the possibility that she would be the one to take care of the tortoise. She knew that Ismail wouldn’t 1. know the first thing about taking care of it (case in point, they fed it cookies) or 2. be able to keep it at their house

“Oh, we really couldn’t ask that of you. Ismail is hopeless, but I would take her. I just need to know more about tortoises, like what they need and stuff, what does it eat, how should it live? Do I need to take it on walks?” that last part was meant to be funny, and Kieu My mentally gave herself a pat on the back when the other girl smiled at her. She wouldn’t really need to take it on walks, right?

“Kieu My, I can’t ask you to-” Ismail started.

“Shut up, Ismail.” Kieu My finished.

“Yeah, I really can’t take her home to my mother…” Kieu My already knew this the second Ismail walked through her door with the animal.

“You should’ve thought about that before you stole it.” The clerk pointedly said to Ismail. Ismail just raised their hand and waved her off. Kieu My knew she was way out of her depth, but she’d learn everything she needed to know to take care of this tortoise in the meantime.

“Does she have a name?” The worker took the tortoise from Ismail and smiled at it. “She looks like a Maike to me”.

“Maike it is then.” Kieu My said, looking at her cozying up to Maike. She looked so soft with Maike in her hands, she held her up to her face and made a face. She was so beautiful, Kieu My couldn’t help but melt a little.

Putting her back into her box, she looked up at Kieu My and opened her mouth again, “I really can take her; I do have access to a lot of equipment, not here though, obviously, but I already have a grid cage because I used to have guinea pig, and Maike should be fine living in it for now.” She rambled, low and fast, and she wouldn’t look away from the tortoise. Kieu My smiled, did she really want to take care of the tortoise?

“Of course, if you really want to take care of her, I’ll give you my number and you could just message me anytime you have a question-” Kieu My was basically grinning now, and from the corner of her eye she could see Ismail smirking. She was willing to give her her number! Of course, it would just be to exchange information about the tortoise, but it would work for now. We were finally getting somewhere.

Kieu My quickly cuts her off, “or, you could keep the tortoise if you really wanted to take care of her, and still give me your number, you know, for updates and stuff…”

Keeping her eyes on the girl for a reaction, she could see her slowly beginning to smile, like she couldn’t keep it in, she looked up at Kieu My. Her stomach fluttered.

“’And stuff’, huh? Like if your friend decides to steal another poor reptile?” Ismail gasped at this and opened their mouth, Kieu My kicked them in the leg. They kept it shut for once.

“or if I potentially wanted to know your name” they both smile at each other, Ismail and Maike forgotten.

“Well, if you wanted to know my name, all you had to do was ask, you really didn’t have to steal a tortoise.”

“are you going to have me beg for it?”

“if that’s a possibility…” they both laugh, Kieu My blushes. The other girl offers her hand,

“my names Fatou.”

Kieu My took the hand and repeated her name once, smiling, “nice to meet you, Fatou”.

[c-optimistic]

diner

or, lena is an irregular regular, kara is stupidly smitten, and alex is really tired with the both of them

Waitressing at her foster father’s 24-hour diner was not how Kara thought she’d be spending her summer. Then again, she also hadn’t imagined she’d end up moving back home because she lost her internship.

(Snapper, she thought for the hundredth time just in that last hour, the name coming out as a curse, reveling in imagining spitting it right into his face.

She hadn’t particularly thought she was capable of hating anyone, but Snapper...he came close.)

“Kara, can you get her?” Alex asked, gesturing towards a table in the back with a title of her head, where a young woman with long, dark hair was sitting, looking engrossed in whatever she was writing in her notebook. “I want to take my break.”

“Oh, is Kelly calling?”

“Shut up,” Alex muttered, cheeks pinking slightly. She huffed for good measure as she took off her apron and tossed it at Kara, already on her phone before she even took a single step outside the diner.

Kara watched Alex go, feeling conflicted.

(She was happy for her sister, she deserved something good in her life. But there were also some feelings she wasn’t altogether proud of, bits of jealousy, annoyance at how much time Alex spent with Kelly instead of her, fear that she was losing her sister.

In a long list of odd things about her, this was the newest oddity: Kara was simultaneously utterly pleased for her sister and resentful at the new shift in their relationship, the room she had to make for Kelly.)

With a sigh, she pulled out her notepad and clicked her pen, approaching the only occupied table in the diner.

(It was late, later than Kara normally worked, this shift reserved for the college students home for the summer looking for a way to make some cash.

Though, considering Kara was one of those college students home for the summer, she supposed this shift was perfect for her.)

“Hi, welcome to Jeremiah’s. Can I get you something to drink?” Kara said robotically, her eyes on her notepad. After a few seconds of silence, she looked up, realizing that the woman hadn’t even stopped writing in her notebook. “Sorry, am I interrupting? I can come back,” she began, even going as far as taking a step back, when suddenly the woman moved. She swept her dark hair back and turned to look at Kara, blue—or maybe green, Kara wasn’t quite sure—eyes meeting Kara’s levelly.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman said, snapping her notebook shut. “Could I get two coffees please? And a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

Kara blinked. They did not serve PB&Js, they never had, but for whatever reason, it felt like her tongue had been glued to the roof of her mouth when she tried to tell the woman just that. Instead, what came out was a rather inconvenient, “Sure, coming right up.”

She walked over to the kitchen, frowning a little bit when the cook—who had obviously heard everything—eyed her in amusement. Mon-El wiped his hands on his apron, crossing his arms over his chest as she put on a fresh pot of coffee.

“You lied to a customer,” he said with faux-disappointment, grinning. “You and I both know there’s no peanut butter.”

“No,” Kara denied, feeling a flare of anxiety in her chest, “I didn’t lie. I just—oh shut up, why don’t you help out instead of laughing at me?”

“What am I supposed to do?” he said, not even bothering to pretend he wasn’t reveling in her embarrassment. “You’re the one that lied to a customer just because you think she’s pretty.”

“I don’t...you’re such a—why don’t you do something useful with your time, huh?”

“Right, right, right,” Mon-El said, shaking his head slowly, “so I guess you don’t want me to tell you Imra has a brand new jar of peanut butter she bought the other day.” He sighed dramatically. “It’s not like she lives five minutes away and could be here by the time the coffee is ready.”

“You would ask her for me?” Kara found herself saying hopefully, eyeing Mon-El with a little bit of suspicion. “I thought Imra was focusing on her studying and couldn’t waste time here.”

“You want me to ask her?” Mon-El said, eyes widening, smile slipping. “No way, I’m already in the doghouse. She told me if I interrupted her studying again, she’d break up with me.” He gave Kara a knowing look. “Besides, Imra wouldn’t say no to you, especially if you told her it’s for a pretty girl.”

“Stop saying that,” Kara hissed, turning to look over at the woman, relieved to see she was reabsorbed in her notebook. “That’s not what happened.”

“Sure, sure,” Mon-El said casually, pointing at the carafe and the coffee that slowly trickled into it, “but tick tock, Kara.”

She glared at him, but pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Imra, ignoring Mon-El’s smug look when Imra immediately agreed. And like Mon-El had said, by the time the coffee was done, Imra had stopped by, handing the jar of peanut butter over as she stole a glance at the woman sitting in the back, giving Kara an approving thumbs up before Mon-El stole her away for a ‘study break,’ which made Kara pretend to gag.

“So,” Kara said, clearly her throat loudly as she approached the woman, setting down the two cups of coffee and the plate with the sandwich, “are you waiting for someone?” Kara pointed to the second cup, and the woman looked away from her notebook, Kara’s question finally sinking in.

“Hmm? Oh, no. Those are both for me.”

“Oh. Well, refills are free you know. You don’t need to order two.”

The woman blinked, then a small smile appeared on her face. “That’s—thank you, um…?”

“—Kara. My name is Kara.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Kara,” the woman said, her voice softer. “I’m Lena.”

“Enjoy your sandwich. And don’t be afraid to shout at me if you need anything, okay?” Kara grinned, rocked back on her heels, then turned away. When she went into the back, Alex was there with Mon-El and Imra, and was eyeing her oddly.

“Really, Kara?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.

“We should probably add peanut butter and jelly to the menu. In the interest of our customers.”

“Right,” Mon-El said, stretching out the word, chuckling when Imra rolled her eyes. “In the interest of our customers.”

“Really, Kara?” Alex just repeated, letting out a sigh.

x

The next time Lena came in, it was seven in the morning, and she looked like she hadn’t slept all night.

“I haven’t slept all night,” she informed Kara with a small smile, “but it was worth it.”

“Hot date?” Kara asked as she pulled out her notebook, feeling her cheeks flame as soon as the question slipped out, embarrassed at both the jealousy in her tone and the distinctly unprofessional and inappropriate nature of the question.

Thankfully, or maybe just luckily, Lena didn’t seem to hear Kara. “Can I get two cups of coffee and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

“Sure thing. But um, you remember that refills are free, right?”

“Hmm?” Lena said distractedly, her eyes now on her phone, frown forming on her lips. “Thanks so much, um,” she turned to Kara, eyes narrowing briefly before falling onto Kara’s nametag, smile reemerging. “Kara,” she finished proudly, as if Kara hadn’t introduced herself just days before.

Kara frowned as she took orders from her other customers, knowing that a crease had appeared between her eyebrows as she approached Alex at the register.

“She doesn’t remember me,” she complained in a whisper.

“Who doesn’t remember you?” Alex mock-whispered right back, eyeing Kara oddly.

“Lena, the woman, the PB&J woman,” Kara explained, rolling her eyes when Alex’s confusion only cleared at the last explanation.

“You mean your crush,” Alex supplied easily, motioning for Kara to go on.

Kara felt her brow furrow further, and she went crossed-eyed as she followed Alex reaching out and pressing against her forehead with her eyes. “I don’t have a crush,” she denied, refocusing her gaze. Alex made a noncommittal sound, lips pressing together. “I don’t,” Kara insisted.

“I think your crush is wondering where her coffee and sandwich is, Kara,” Alex said, motioning with a tilt of her head towards Lena. “If it bothers you so much, just talk to her.”

“Right. Right. Just talk to her.”

(She hyped herself up as she took Lena’s coffee and sandwich to her, but when the woman gave her a small smile, her eyes meeting Kara’s just briefly before she turned back to her phone, Kara chickened out.

Lena deserved to eat her sandwich in peace, and Kara had already made enough of a fool of herself for one day.)

x

Lena’s presence at the diner began to become regular.

Or rather, it became expectedly unexpected. She showed up several times a week without fail, but the times she showed up were maddenly strange. Once, it was in the middle of the night, another the wee hours of the morning, another in the mid-afternoon, and yet another time smack dab in the middle of the dinner rush. Every time she showed up, she looked exhausted, sleep-deprived, and totally out of it.

And every time, without fail, she ordered her PB&J and two coffees and reintroduced herself before asking Kara for her name.

It drove Kara mad. It made her feel oddly endeared. It left her anxiously waiting for the next time Lena would walk into the diner.

(Mon-El found the whole thing incredibly hilarious. Nia and Brainy, video calling from National City to express how much they missed Kara, immediately noticed she was distracted and kept her eyes on the diner’s entrance, and made fun of her constantly after that.

And Alex? Alex rolled her eyes, sighed, and generally made a big deal of it, but every time Lena walked through the door, Alex would let Kara get her table.

For Kara’s part, she endured the teasing and the laughing without comment, but she rather thought she gave herself away when she made sure to always have a tub of peanut butter on hand, just for Lena.)

x

They talked beyond the normal ‘what can I get you?’ after one month of Lena’s inconsistently consistent visits to the diner.

She came in, her shoes and coat drenched, her umbrella a broken mess, dripping rainwater onto the linoleum floor. There were purple bags under her eyes, her skin paler than normal, and she heaved a thankful sigh when Kara grabbed a handful of paper towels and handed it to her.

(Kara tried very hard to be respectful and avert her eyes, but it was easy to get distracted by the rainwater trailing down Lena’s neck.)

“Pretty bad storm, huh?” Kara said stupidly, the sound of thunder cracking right at that moment, as if to highlight the obviousness of her statement. “I, um, I live above the diner? So I could get you some dry clothes? If you wanted?”

Lena paused her efforts at patting herself dry, and she stared at Kara with a slightly ajar mouth. “You guys take customer service pretty seriously, don’t you?” she said finally, chuckling. Kara, whose cheeks were bright red, crossed her arms over her chest and forced out a laugh.

“Oh, um, well. You know. Only the best for our regulars.”

(Dumb, Kara thought. That was so dumb.)

“I—” Lena began, but Kara would never know what she intended to say, because right at that moment, Alex showed up, mop in hand.

“You’re dripping on our floors, Lena,” she said, not unkindly, maneuvering her mop in such a way that Lena was forced to take a step closer to Kara—nearly brushing up against her. Not for the first time, Kara was simultaneously annoyed and grateful for her sister’s meddling.

“I’m so sorry,” Lena rushed out, realizing in that moment that her notebook was also sopping wet, the crestfallen expression on her face feeling like a knife twisting in Kara’s chest. “I hadn’t realized how much rain there was, I can just go—”

“—wait, no. Don’t go.” Kara avoided Alex’s gaze entirely, choosing to stare at her shoes instead. “I’ll grab you some clothes and a hairdryer so you can dry off your notebook, and Alex will get you something to eat. Two coffees and a PB&J, right?” Kara looked up, her breath catching just a little when she noticed Lena’s expression: curious, confused, and coy.

“Is that really okay?” she asked, seeming more than a little unsure. Kara nodded quickly, shooting Alex a look and making her nod as well.

“You’re Kara’s favorite regular,” Alex said unhelpfully, grinning when Kara glared at her. “Of course it’s okay.” Lena frowned.

“Oh, sorry, have we met before?”

(And oh, it was like a punch to the gut.

How could someone forget this many times?)

“Don’t worry about it, Lena,” Kara said with a grin, trying to find the humor in it somehow. “Let’s get you dry first.”

(And later, when Lena left while still wearing Kara’s favorite National City University sweatshirt, Kara just sighed.

And later, when Alex asked if she got Lena’s number and Kara confessed she didn’t think to ask, Alex let out a groan so loud that all their customers turned to give her an odd look.)

x

Two days later, Lena came into the diner wearing Kara’s sweatshirt.

She fell asleep at her table while waiting for her coffee and sandwich, and when Kara gently woke her up she gave Kara a brilliant smile and asked, “Did you know there’s a diner in Midvale that has the best PB&Js in the world?”

“You really need some rest,” Kara replied softly, but Lena’s focus had shifted to her coffee.

And Kara just let it be.

x

“Can I get three coffees?” Lena asked the next time she came in, nearing midnight. Kara hadn’t even had this shift, but thanks to a new system developed by Alex, whoever happened to be working when Lena came in had the obligation to text Kara (who would, embarrassingly enough, toss her apron on and rush downstairs to the diner in order to serve her favorite customer—a customer who still could not remember all the times Kara had introduced herself).

“Three? Are you trying to sleep even less now?”

“I sleep,” Lena defended, though she didn’t sound like she believed her own words. “No,” she continued, shaking her head as if to physically dispel Kara’s distracting words, “one is for you.”

“For me?” Kara could hardly believe her own two ears. Was the pining and the hoping finally paying off? “You want to have coffee with me?”

“Only if you’re not busy, um, Kara,” Lena said, eyes dropping to Kara’s hastily pinned nametag, apparently completely missing Kara’s overjoyed tone and the way her face fell as she realized Lena didn’t actually remember her. “It’s just—this thing I’m working on is a pain, and sometimes talking it out can help. But I don’t have anyone I can talk to so I thought...well, you’ve been so nice, and I figured I’d ask.” She bit her lip, then hid her face behind her hands. “It was a dumb idea, I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Kara sighed, feeling bad for this woman, and wondering if she should do some research on the effects of sleep deprivation. “No, I can be your sounding board. Let me get your coffee and sandwich, okay?”

(They talked well into the morning—or well, Lena talked. And Kara learned so much. She learned Lena was in Midvale only for the summer, that she had to go back to National City in the fall. She learned Lena was in the middle of what could be a groundbreaking scientific breakthrough on reversing climate change, but that her brother had all but abandoned her in the effort.

She learned that Lena was smart. She was intelligent—talking about theories and principles that Kara had always thought only Alex would ever discuss with her—but she was more than that. She had a whip-like wit, she was clever, funny, and just plain brilliant.

But more than anything, Kara learned about how much Lena cared. She talked passionately about the issues she thought science could solve, admitted she prioritized her work over sleep rather regularly, spending the strangest sort of hours at the lab she’d outfitted in Midvale. She mentioned how much she wanted to just do, how she just wanted to help people, in any way she could.

And if Kara wasn’t in trouble before, well. She definitely was now.)

x

Lena walked into the diner one late afternoon, looking haggard and exhausted, and Kara couldn’t help but laugh as she brought her coffee and a sandwich.

“You can’t remember refills are free or that my name is Kara, but you can remember to come to this diner?”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Lena said conspiratorially, not even looking over at Kara, clearly too tired to have even noticed who was talking to her, “but I think I have a crush on the waitress.”

“Wanna know a secret?” Alex called from the other side of the diner. “The waitress has a crush on you, too.”

Kara turned to shoot her sister a glare, so she missed the smile that spread on Lena’s face.

x

“Did you know that I’m only here in Midvale for the summer?” Lena asked Kara sullenly one early morning, a despondent expression on her face as she looked at her sandwich.

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned,” Kara chuckled, moving to sit across from Lena.

(This was new—staying with Lena and chatting with her as she drank her coffee and ate her sandwich. Alex rolled her eyes every time she noticed, and if Eliza didn’t own the diner, Kara was pretty sure she’d be fired.

But although Lena could never fully remember what they talked about, she seemed to enjoy the company.)

“I’ve had my best meals here. I’ll miss it.”

“I genuinely worry if you eat at all when you’re not here if these are your best meals,” Kara confessed, watching with slight amusement as Lena drained the last of her coffee.

“It’s less the food and more the company, really,” Lena said as she put her coffee cup down, her eyes meeting Kara’s briefly.

“How many hours of sleep did you get last night?”

“Hmm?”

“So none?”

“I plead the fifth, your honor,” Lena muttered, averting her gaze. This drew another chuckle out of Kara.

“Come on, why do you bother with flirting when you’re so sleep deprived you won’t remember it anyway?”

Lena let out a soft sigh, meeting Kara’s eyes once more. “It’s the principle of the thing,” she breathed out.

Kara’s heart stuttered and she didn’t protest again.

x

“Kara, your girlfriend can’t nap at the table,” Alex said tiredly the next afternoon, pointing to where Lena was sitting, head pillowed by her arms, her breathing slow and deep. Kara rolled her eyes in response, making no move to go wake Lena up. Alex snorted. “Didn’t deny the girlfriend part though, did you?”

x

“Can I get—”

“A PB&J and two coffees?” Kara finished for Lena, holding up the plate in her hand and setting down a cup of coffee. “Refills are free, just so you know.”

“Right, right. I forgot,” Lena chuckled, cheeks reddening. “You know Jeremiah’s has—”

“—the best PB&Js in the world? So you’ve said,” Kara finished with a smile, sitting down across from Lena at her table. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“No,” Lena admitted sheepishly, taking a sip of her coffee and closing her eyes at the taste—or more likely, at the introduction of caffeine into her system. “I had an idea last night, but nothing I tried would work. I think maybe I need to—why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re interested,” Lena supplied, eyes narrowing just a little.

“We talk about your work pretty often, Lena. Of course I’m interested.” Lena nodded, but she looked uneasy, even suspicious. For a wild moment, Kara wondered if she was in that Adam Sandler movie, and the very thought made her feel a tad nauseous. “I know you forget some details, but you know we talk, don’t you?”

Lena rolled her eyes. “Of course I do, Kara,” she said, waving Kara’s concern off easily. “I just—why are you interested?”

“In what?”

“In me?”

“Is that a trick question?” Kara asked, sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest. She knew her crinkle was making a stellar comeback, despite having mostly been held at bay by Lena’s near constant presence at the diner and the hope she’d been nursing in a tiny corner of her heart. Did Lena really not realize how much Kara, well, liked her?

“No, I just—” She cut herself off, looking more tired than ever. “I guess I don’t understand. I’m just some random customer who stole your sweatshirt and talks about work all the time. I don’t get why you’d bother.”

(Kara’s heart broke. Because Lena clearly didn’t realize how amazing she was.

And Kara suddenly knew she had to do everything in her power to make Lena see the light.)

“Because you’re incredible,” she said, not quite thinking it through. Or perhaps, she was thinking it and just chose to say it aloud. In any event, it had its desired effect: Lena’s eyes widened and she was shocked enough that she didn’t seem inclined to interrupt. So Kara rushed on. “I mean, you drink entirely too much coffee. You definitely need to sleep more. And I’m a little worried about your diet, and coming from me, that means your diet is really bad. But, gosh, Lena. You’re brilliant.”

“I really don’t think—” Lena tried, her cheeks bright red, but Kara wasn’t anywhere close to done.

“—you’re witty and kind and so smart. You care about so much, and you get this funny look on your face every time I have to remind you that refills are free, and when you’re really passionate about something, you wave your hands around. Also you snore a bit, but it’s the good kind, you know?”

“I snore? Wait, there’s a good kind of snoring?” Lena muttered, but Kara was on a roll.

“Sometimes when you laugh, you let out a snort, and that means you actually found it funny. And when you remember you’re talking about something we’ve already talked about, you duck your head and mumble, but then continue talking about it anyway. Why do I bother?” Kara asked rhetorically. “I’d be crazy not to.”

For nearly a whole minute, Lena was silent, and for a moment, Kara worried she’d been too much, revealed too much. But then, a smile broke on Lena’s face—wide, uninhibited, and overwhelmed. “Well, tell me how you really feel, why don’t you,” she joked, going for smug but managing only awe.

“I’m never going to get my sweatshirt back, am I?” Kara asked, dropping the topic they were on, both to spare Lena any further blushing (the red reaching past her ears and down her neck) and also to hide the depths of her own feelings (though she was rather sure that was a lost cause at this point).

“Nope,” Lena said, stressing the pop in the word and returning to her coffee.

x

“I was twelve the first time I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, you know,” Lena informed her conversationally one night. She kept her tone purposefully light, but Kara could tell it was taking a lot more effort for her to speak than normal. Her eyes were dull, the bags beneath her eyes still prominent but not quite purple like they’d been earlier in the summer. It looked like, in all honesty, that she’d had a decent amount of sleep recently, but for whatever reason, that didn’t translate to her mood.

“Twelve? That’s pretty late in the game,” Kara offered, chewing on her lip. She’d had her first PB&J when she was fourteen, so she wasn’t really in much of a position to judge. Then again, considering she didn’t even know the things existed until after she landed on this planet, she thought she could be excused.

“My adoptive parents were...well, strict,” Lena explained, shrugging. She was on her third cup of coffee, idly tearing at the sandwich in front of her, not having taken a single bite since she had it placed in front of her. “They were more into forcing my brother and I to pretend we liked foie gras and caviar at their silly functions than they were into feeding us something we may actually like.”

“Foie gras, huh,” Kara repeated, trying hard not to say anything. And yet: “Isn’t that when they—”

“Yup, that’s it.”

“Huh.”

“One night, after barely eating anything at one of these functions, my parents sent my brother and I to bed. You know, kind of like that scene in Sound of Music, except without the singing.”

“I’m sure it was adorable anyway,” Kara said lightly, hoping to make Lena smile. It worked: Lena’s lips quirked, and her eyes—so lifeless when they were usually so full of light—brightened just a bit.

“We decided we’d sneak into the kitchen. Get some real food from the staff. Something, you know?” Lena continued, urged on by Kara’s nodding. “But our nanny caught us.”

“Oh. So it actually was like Sound of Music,” Kara blurted out, unable to help her silly joke. Her view of Lena suddenly had morphed—she saw a lonely girl adopted into a rich family, and the obvious admiration in her voice for her brother taking on a tinge of melancholy as Kara remembered their relationship was strained. And it made her sad.

(Kara was no stranger to pain or sorrow, but she had always been able to comfort herself and surround herself with those she loved and loved her.

But who loved Lena?)

“She was furious at us,” Lena continued, only raising an eyebrow at Kara’s interruption, though her lips had quirked once more. “If we’d gotten caught by my father—or worse, my mother—she would have lost her job.” She let out a sigh, a frown tugging at her tiny smile until it evaporated completely, her brows furrowing, and her eyes shifting to the ceiling. “I told her what we were doing, why we weren’t in bed, and she got this look on her face. I can’t explain it.” Lena finally noticed she’d shredded her sandwich into an unrecognizable mess, and she withdrew her hands from the table, though Kara could tell she was still fidgeting with them in her lap. “She had her own small room. Had outfitted it with one of those mini-fridges and a burner plate, so she could avoid taking meals in the kitchen. I didn’t realize until much later that she had wanted to stay out of my mother’s way as much as possible.”

“Oh Lena,” Kara muttered, hearing the self-disgust in Lena’s tone, and not knowing what to do or say.

“So she took us to her room. Showed us her stash of peanut butter. Made us as many sandwiches as we wanted that night. She swore us to secrecy—my mother would never have approved of it, I don’t even think she allowed peanut butter in the house.” Lena stopped suddenly, the slight amusement in her tone dissipating as she took in a deep breath. “It didn’t matter anyway. She was fired soon after.” Lena sighed again and fell silent.

“Why are you telling me all this?” Kara asked quietly when the silence stretched out for several long minutes, Lena clearly lost in thought.

“I just—it was the first time I vividly remember someone doing something kind just for the sake of being kind,” Lena explained slowly, her eyes meeting Kara’s. “I named the environmental initiative after her, you know. The BETH Project. But right as I’m about to make a breakthrough—” She stopped, groaned, dropping her head to the table. “My brother cut funding. Decided he wants LuthorCorp to focus on other endeavours. He says this is a waste of time.” Her voice was slightly muffled by the wooden table, but her words were crystal clear.

(And suddenly, a lot of things made sense: Lena’s money, her genius, her relationship with her brother, the fact she could just up and go to a small town in order to work on her research.

She was Lena Luthor, as in one of the smartest people in the world.

And Kara had been too busy feeding her sandwiches and falling in love with her to notice.)

“When did this happen?” Kara asked, her thoughts straying to something else. After all, if her research had been defunded, did that mean Lena would leave?

“Yesterday. After I got off the phone with him, I just...slept. For I think eighteen hours straight. I just—I’m wanted back soon, and I realized that I’d like to be here as much as possible until then.” She raised her head, eyeing Kara warily, as if worried Kara would react poorly to the confession.

(Kara’s heart thudded in her chest, practically pounding against her ribs, and for a moment she felt a little dizzy.

Lena wanted to be here as much as possible.)

“Well, the diner is always open to you,” Kara managed, giving Lena a grin.

“I’m not exactly here for the diner,” Lena laughed, the normal glint, light, brightness of her eyes reappearing. “I only ever came here again after the first time because of you.” Something must have shown on her face, because Lena’s smile widened just a bit. “You went out of your way to get me something not even on the menu. Kind for the sake of being kind.”

Kara felt guilt twist in her chest for a moment, deciding almost immediately to come clean. “It wasn’t like that,” she admitted, wrinkling her nose. “You’re, um, really pretty. Did you know that?” If she thought this would make Lena get up and storm off, if she thought it would scare her away, Kara was sorely mistaken.

It made Lena chuckle, made her place one of her hands back on the table, palm up—a clear invitation.

“I had similar thoughts about you when I kept coming back,” Lena informed her.

(So Kara took her hand.)

x

“I saw you two holding hands,” Alex said with a grin a few hours later, Kelly shaking her head in amusement behind her. “So did you finally ask her out?”

Kara scoffed. “Of course not. She’s Lena Luthor. Why would she want to date me?”

From the kitchen, Mon-El let out a loud, annoyed groan, Alex sighed tiredly, and Kelly chuckled victoriously.

“You owe me twenty bucks,” she informed her girlfriend, looking mighty pleased with herself.

Alex, however, was focused on Kara. “What are you waiting for?” she asked, frowning. “She makes those eyes at you, and you still don’t realize she likes you?”

(And well, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t that Kara didn’t realize. She suspected her feelings were returned but, well….

Lena was changing the world, and Kara was still struggling with the sting of Snapper dropping her from the internship with his newspaper.)

“It’s fine, Alex,” Kelly interjected, looking from Kara to her girlfriend and her instincts to help kicking in. “Maybe we should give Kara some space.”

x

Lena stopped coming in at inconsistently consistent times. Rather, she showed up at Kara’s shifts, and then came up with things for them to do when Kara wasn’t working.

(She was no longer sleep-deprived and forgetful. She focused on Kara’s every word, seemingly endlessly interested in what Kara had to say, and she never seemed to tire of Kara’s presence.

It was wonderful. More than wonderful. Kara was at a loss to explain it.)

These ‘dates’ as Alex called them were going incredibly well. Until one afternoon, when Kara was sitting across from Lena as she took her break, and her hands clenched into fists when a guy who clearly wasn’t from Midvale walked over to their table, and grinned down at Lena.

“Hey,” he said, making a strange movement with his head, chin jutting out. “You come here often?”

(What a terrible line. What a terrible, terrible, terrible—)

“I do, actually,” Lena responded, her eyes on Kara. “I have a crush on the waitress.”

“Right,” said the guy, though he looked confused. After a moment, when it became clear neither Kara nor Lena would say anything else (or even look at him), he made the strange movement with his head again and returned to his own table.

“Sorry,” Lena said once he was gone, eyes still focused on Kara, running her teeth over her bottom lip. “Men, right?” she said, as if they were in on a joke.

“Ah, the perils of being an attractive woman,” Kara offered, forcing her hands to unclench, trying to keep up with the light tone, not sure if she was so angry because she was jealous or because that guy felt he had the right to come up and try to talk to Lena when Kara was right there, when she was...well, a friend?

“Do you think I’m attractive?” Lena asked, her voice full of something Kara couldn’t quite name, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Everyone thinks you’re attractive,” Kara said, eyes finding that guy again and glaring.

“Right. But do you?”

(It felt like a test. And when Kara turned back to her, Lena looked so invested in the answer.

And she felt herself give in.)

“Why wouldn’t I be included in ‘everyone?’” she tried, hedging just a bit more.

“I don’t care what ‘everyone’ thinks. I care what you think.”  

Kara heaved a deep breath, trying to control her pounding heart. ��Obviously, I think you’re attractive,” she admitted, thinking it was worth saying when Lena’s expression turned utterly pleased.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I think you’re attractive too.”

(And it did.

Make Kara feel better.)

x

They were outside the back entrance of the diner, sitting on the steps with their knees drawn up to their chests.

“Are you sure you have to leave tomorrow?” Kara asked softly, wishing she didn’t have to break the silence between them. Lena’s shoulder was pressed against hers, and despite the hot, muggy day, she didn’t quite mind it. In fact, she moved closer, wanting as much of Lena as she could get before she had to go without her.

“The NC branch of LuthorCorp needs someone to head it. Lex has asked me. He’s been acting strangely lately, I don’t feel comfortable saying no to him right now.”

“You know, it’s funny,” Kara mumbled, staring at her shoes, determinedly not thinking about Lena leaving, “I wasn’t even supposed to be here this summer. But my internship was scrapped because Snapper Carr and Lois Lane are working on some exposé to do with arms deals.” She looked over at Lena with a smile. “Is it terrible that I’m sort of glad now? I mean, I needed Snapper’s recommendation, so I’ll never get to work for Cat Grant, but I met you. It seems...worth it.”

“I have some connections,” Lena said, bumping her shoulder against Kara’s. “I could talk to Cat Grant for you.”

“My cousin offered too, but no. I want to get a job with her on my own merits.”

“You’ll get one. She’ll be crazy not to hire you.”

Kara smiled gratefully and they lapsed into silence, hands tangled between them. But as the seconds stretched into minutes, Lena seemed increasingly...agitated.

“You live in National City, right?” she asked suddenly, pulling away rather abruptly and roughly.

“Y-yeah,” Kara answered, a little confused.

“And you’ll be back in National City once your term starts? What two weeks from now?”

“Yes?”

“Then why are we acting like this is the last time we’ll see each other?” She sounded a little...well, angry. Kara blinked in confusion.

“Lena...you’re a prodigy. You have like a dozen degrees—”

“—don’t exaggerate—”

“—you’re going to be in charge of the LuthorCorp branch in National City. And I’m just a journalism student without career prospects after graduation.”

(And an alien. But she figured that conversation could wait.)

“Kara, stop,” Lena hissed, turning slightly so that she was facing Kara completely. Kara missed her warmth. “Listen, it’s really simple. I like you. I really like you. Do you like me?”

Kara was too shocked by the bluntness of the question and the forcefulness of the way Lena had expressed her own feelings to think too hard about what words came out of her mouth next. “I—yes, of course I do, how could I not?”

“Then would you do me a favor?”

“Yeah—yes, of course. Anything.”

“Would you promise that you’ll ask me out on a real date when we’re both in National City and then could you please, please, just kiss me?”

(It took a moment for Kara to comprehend the request, but when she finally did she was all too happy to comply.

And if she did it in the reverse order—well, neither of them much minded.)

[daemour]

Title: Find You

Genre: Angst, Fluff, a ‘lil Smut

Pairing: Jinyoung x Jaebeom, minor Jinyoung x Youngjae, for 5 seconds a side of Ten x Yugyeom

Summary: Jinyoung’s kinda a dumbass. Jaebeom’s even more of a dumbass, but he’s also kind of an asshole (in the best way possible.)

Warnings: Jinyoung suxxs a dick; the smut scene is just under 600 words out of 13k

Word count: 13482

CRIS CRIS CRIS @limjaeseven​ I LOVE YOU!! thanks for all the stuff you do for me; i hope this can somehow repay it!! :)))))) love you broskiiiiiii lets hope for many great times~! also heres ur dumb gays :)))) <3333

I struggled with this A  L O T so i hope you guys like it owo~

When Jinyoung walked out of his room and saw Jaebeom in the kitchen, that wasn’t unusual. The older one did tend to use the spare key whenever he didn’t want to cook. What was unusual, however, was the fact that Jaebeom had no shirt on.

As much as Jinyoung would like to ogle Jaebeom’s fine ass, he had more questions than wishes. “Hyung? What are you doing?” Jaebeom spun around, a sheepish smile on his face, and Jinyoung repeated the mantra, don’t look at tiddies, don’t look at tiddies over and over to himself. It’s a hard battle, and Jinyoung lost it almost immediately. Jaebeom was amused.

“My eyes are up here, Nyoungie. Not on my nipples.” Jinyoung would like the floor to swallow him up, please. “Anyways; I left my keys at home when I went to work, but I found your keys in my car. I left them in there by accident,” Jaebeom explained, laughing. “I borrowed your couch if that’s fine.”

Yes, that’s so fine. Always fine. You could even use my bed. With me still in it, of course. “Yeah, go ahead. Next time, just text me. I have your spare set of keys, remember?” Jaebeom’s mouth opened, and Jinyoung could tell he forgot.

“Yeah.” Jaebeom drew out the diphthong and smiled. “Do you want breakfast?”

“God, yes please,” Jinyoung groans. “Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver. God, you’re literally the perfect boyfriend.”

Jaebeom offers a sheepish smile, leaning across the counter and poking Jinyoung in the cheek affectionately. “Not perfect, but I made rice pudding and toast.” He slid a plate across to Jinyoung, who thanked him gratefully. “I’ll be out of your hair then.” He started to leave when Jinyoung frowned.

“Where’s your shirt?”

Jaebeom shrugged.

“I don’t know; I think some girl at the club stole it when I spilt a drink on myself and went to wipe it off.” The older left without another word, and Jinyoung could feel his heart hurt. He forgot Jaebeom was painfully straight, and that he was painfully gay. He was once again reminded that his crush was indeed one-sided. And yes, his crush did just walk out of his door with no shirt on.

When Jinyoung used to think he was straight, he remembered feeling romantic feelings towards Jaebeom and passing it off as wanting to be best friends forever. And now that he knew for sure he’s into boys, he found out the hard way that best friends just wasn’t what he wanted to be. But that couldn’t be helped. Jaebeom would never want to be with him, and Jinyoung would just have to suffer.

Alas, he couldn’t wallow in self-pity today. His brother, Yugyeom, was flying in with his best friend BamBam, and Jinyoung had to go pick them up. He pulled on some clothes he knew would only just barely match, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door. He’s going to be early, so he would stop in a coffee shop near the airport and pick up some drinks.

The coffee shop, Ars Coffee, was busy, but not too busy that Jinyoung would be late, so he stepped in and waited in line. As he looked around the cute shop decorated in pictures of puppies and kittens, he noticed a corner of the shop that reminded him of the first time he had met Jaebeom. The older had been frantically studying and Jinyoung was hustling to find an open seat, tripping over Jaebeom’s backpack and landing in the older’s lap. The older had delivered the line, “you’re not my type, but nice ass,” and the two ended up talking until the shop closed. They exchanged numbers, and the rest was history.

However, Jinyoung was brought back to the present with an ‘ahem’ coming from behind the counter. It’s his turn to order. “Ah- yes, sorry. I’ll take a vanilla latte, an iced choco, and an iced Americano.” The barista laughed, his smile too wide for his face, and marked down the order.

“I hope all that isn’t for you. That’s a lot of sugar, not to mention caffeine.”

Jinyoung smiled back. “Who knows? I could be a college student frantically studying for last-minute exams.”

The barista, Youngjae judging by the nametag, laughed again. “The second semester just ended; you’d be on break. So I’ll just assume you’re apologising to your three girlfriends since they just found out you’ve been double- no, triple-timing them.”

“Boyfriends,” Jinyoung corrects without thinking, and then his head snapped up, eyes wide. “What I mean is- I don’t- I-”

Youngjae offered a sympathetic smile. “It’s all right. I am too,” he reassured, adding that last bit in a lowered voice. “That will be 9,321 won. Which drink is yours?”

Jinyoung fished the bills out of his back pocket, offering it to Youngjae who returned the change.

“Mine is the vanilla latte,” Jinyoung answered, stepping to the side to let the next person come forward to order, and waited patiently. After a few people from ahead of him received their drinks, he saw Youngjae prepare his three drinks, and he felt a twinge of guilt when he realised Youngjae was the only employee at the store.

When he moved to pick up the drinks, he opened his mouth to offer apologies for ordering such a long list of drinks. However, Youngjae rushed off before he even could, just to tend to another customer. Jinyoung left, and when pulling out his drink, noticed a “call me, 2-747-5143 - Choi Youngjae” messily scrawled right under the drink’s label. Cute. He input the number into his phone and took off for the airport.

He’s running late; the coffee shop took longer than he thought, and Jinyoung rushed into the terminal Yugyeom had texted him. He saw his brother, slouching as always, with BamBam, just as skinny, standing up straight next to him. At least his friend had good posture; Jinyoung had been trying to fix his brother’s bad habit for years. “Yah, Kim Yugyeom, straighten up!”

Yugyeom’s head jerked up, and a smile spread across his face. “Hyung!” The tallest bounded over, BamBam following, and enveloped Jinyoung in a tight hug. “How are you?”

Jinyoung laughed. “You act like you haven’t lived with me for twenty-four years. I’m doing well. How are you, Yugyeom, BamBam?” Yugyeom, as expected, immediately launched into a monologue about how his time in Thailand with BamBam’s family was. The fact that he didn’t really like durian was the only bit that stuck in Jinyoung’s head. But he didn’t mind; as much as he would never admit it to anyone’s face, he did miss his younger sibling. Jaebeom just didn’t fill in the gaps Yugyeom had left.

“Hyung, hyung, hyung, did you hear?” Jinyoung snapped his head toward the younger. The younger was telling him something but as mentioned, Jinyoung wasn’t really listening.

“Sorry, Gyeom, what is it?”

“Jaebeom hyung’s roommate is coming as well, you know? Jackson Wang? From when Jaebeom hyung studied in Hong Kong.” Ah. Jinyoung remembered the loud kid he met when he visited Jaebeom during their summer break three years ago. The memory that stood out the most was Jackson immediately declared himself Jinyoung’s best friend. It would be nice to see him again, Jinyoung guessed, but it’s sad Jaebeom would be spending more time with Jackson and Jinyoung instead of just Jinyoung.

Wait, what the hell was he doing?

Has he really gotten so deep into his crush that he’s trying to break off Jaebeom’s friendships? Jinyoung tonks his head on the steering wheel.

“Hyung?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just…forgot how to drive.” Jinyoung came up with the lamest excuse, and Yugyeom stared at him for a second.

“Are you drunk?”

Instead of gracing him with an answer, Jinyoung started the car and stepped on it (as much was deemed safe).

Yugyeom cackled in his ear, and the oldest of the three aimed a slap on Yugyeom’s chest.

“There are drinks in the back for you,” Jinyoung said, and Yugyeom went for the latte. Before Jinyoung could stop him, Yugyeom noticed the message. To Jinyoung’s relief, however, the younger didn’t mention it, only raising an eyebrow and glancing at Jinyoung’s side profile.

“Hyung, how’s Jaebeom hyung doing?” BamBam broke the silence.

“Jaebeom hyung? He’s doing fine. Same old same old. Doing whatever he pleases. He went to a club yesterday and ended up half-naked on my couch and left to go who knows where and I’m definitely not suffering from an unrequited crush on him. Can’t he just not be so blatantly straight? I’m literally dying because he can’t handle not being hot every second of the day.” With each word that came out of Jinyoung’s mouth, his pitch rose.

BamBam and Yugyeom were quiet for the rest of the ride, and Jinyoung refrained from jumping out of the car lest they would crash. They finally pulled up to the building, and BamBam left the tense atmosphere as quickly as he could. Yugyeom ready to leave, turned to Jinyoung, opened and closed his mouth as if deciding on what to say. “Hyung…maybe you should go on that date.” With that final sentence, Yugyeom exits as well, leaving Jinyoung in the car to ponder over when his life suddenly turned into such a mess.

After concluding his life became a mess once he was born, Jinyoung headed inside to find Yugyeom and BamBam had already made themselves at home and were currently trying to set up the ancient Wii.

“Have you two unpacked already? That was fast.” Jinyoung commented, unimpressed, and Yugyeom looked up at him.

“Yeah, we unpacked…”

“…the Wii.” BamBam finished Yugyeom’s answer and Jinyoung raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Go unpack and then play Wii. I don’t want to trip over any of your bags.” Yugyeom groaned but got up obediently and BamBam followed like a good friend. Once they disappeared from sight, Jinyoung headed into his own room, with the coffee cup from Ars.

Jinyoung plopped down on his bed and opened the contacts on his phone. He stares at the number on the cup. After a moment of deliberation, he inputs it into his phone, saving the contact as ‘Ars - Choi Youngjae” and stares at the empty profile before finally tapping on “message.” He waited again, then sighed, throwing his phone onto the bed and leaving to get something to eat. Youngjae was still probably working and Jinyoung didn’t want to bother him.

Once Yugyeom and BamBam finished unpacking, they, predictably, connected the Wii and coerced (read: threatened) Jinyoung to join them in a Mario Kart championship.

In the middle of Rainbow Road, the door unlocked, and Jinyoung forfeited Yoshi to answer the door. Jaebeom and Jackson stood behind the door, and Jinyoung paused for a minute before letting them in. “Jackson! It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

Jackson grinned, slapping Jinyoung on the back.

“Hey, Park Gae!” God, Jinyoung forgot about the cute nickname Jackson gave him back in Hong Kong. Jackson waited expectantly, and Jinyoung sighed.

“Sorry. Wang Gae, it’s good to see you again. How have you been?” Jinyoung complied.

“I’m doing well; I’ve actually recently gotten a job here teaching fencing, so I’ll be seeing you guys more often!” Oh. Jinyoung didn’t think Jackson would be staying for that long.

“Hyungs!” Yugyeom finally got up from the couch, having beaten BamBam by a hair and Jinyoung by a mile. Jaebeom grinned endearingly as always, hooking an arm around Yugyeom’s neck and ruffling his hair. “Jaebeom hyung, don’t mess up my hair!”

“What, are you trying to impress the ladies?” Jaebeom teased, and Jinyoung stiffened slightly.

“Yugyeom, have you been trying to impress any ladies-“

Jinyoung started to narrow his eyes, and Yugyeom squawked, pulling himself out of Jaebeom’s grip.

“What- No!” Glancing at Jinyoung’s unwavering glare, Yugyeom immediately looked away and up.

“Kim Yugyeom.”

“Really! Seriously, hyung, no way! No girls.” Yugyeom whined. “I haven’t!” He emphasized the last word.

“No girls?” Jaebeom took this opportunity to tease him further. “What about guys? Any hot men in Thailand who caught your interest?”

Yugyeom glanced back at BamBam, and Jinyoung caught the sly movement.

“There are?” Jinyoung almost screamed, feeling like he might die. His baby brother? Having a crush? Unheard of. Yugyeom had always put dancing first, rejecting everyone. “Who? I must protect my baby brother from them!”

Jackson laughed. “Protect him from them? More like the other way around-“ Yugyeom smacked Jackson on the back.

“Hyung!” The fake tension was eased, and Jinyoung grinned at his brother, ready as always to tease.

“So? Who is it? Do I know him?”

“Well-“ Yugyeom started, and Jinyoung’s jaw dropped. “Not yet.”

“What do you mean not yet?” Jinyoung frowns.

“He’s coming to Korea next week to study dance like I am. You’ll meet him then! Ten hyung is a year older, and BamBam knows him.” The Thai friend nodded.

“He’s a year older? Yugyeom, you’re into older men?” Jaebeom gasped in mock shock, and Yugyeom cackled, shoving the older lightly.

“Hyung, what the hell? He’s only a year older, not like Jinyoung and his young barista love.” Eyes turned to Jinyoung, who immediately began to smack Yugyeom.

“Kim Yugyeom-“

“What’s this about your young barista love?” Jackson was immediately interested.

“He’s not- I’m- How do you know he’s young?” Jinyoung stammered out.

Yugyeom cackled. “Choi Youngjae from Ars Coffee Shop? He tutors me in piano. He’s two years younger than you.” Jinyoung’s mouth dropped open.

God, this was mortifying. Jaebeom’s laughter brought him out of his funk, however. The older man (only by six months, Jackson liked to stress) slapped Jinyoung on the back. “Good for you, Nyoung! You’re finally going for your mans!”

Jinyoung choked something akin to ‘God, I hate you all’ and Yugyeom cackled at his older brother’s misery. However, he noticed Jinyoung’s pained look, and Jaebeom’s hand on his brother’s back, and quieted. “Jaebeom hyung,” the youngest called, “can you play Mario Kart with me? Jinyoung hyung sucks, and I beat BamBam. I wanna play you since you’re basically a grandpa.”

Jaebeom fell for the bait, hook line and sinker, glowering and grabbing the remote BamBam handed him. “All right, brat. Let’s go.”

Jinyoung almost heaved a breath of release and moved to the kitchen to get some water. BamBam followed him, and Jackson sat to watch Yugyeom and Jaebeom compete.

“Hyung-“ BamBam hissed, and Jinyoung tried to ignore him. But BamBam was nothing but persistent. “Hyung, why do you do this to yourself? It’s only hurting you, and in the long run, hurting Jaebeom hyung. This can only end up in two ways. Either you draw away from hyung when it gets too much, and both you and Jaebeom hyung get hurt; you both lose a good friend. Or you don’t and Jaebeom hyung finds out on his own. He’s going to feel bad, Jinyoung hyung. Guilty; he’s going to hate himself. You need to stop this.”

“You think I don’t know?” Jinyoung almost yelled but restrained himself. “God, BamBam, I love him, yes, but he’s also my best friend. I don’t want to just tell him, ‘Hey, I have a crush on you, I need you to never talk to me’, that will just make him sad as well. My best bet is to go out with Youngjae and try to forget.”

BamBam frowned. “Hyung, if you don’t then Youngjae-ssi will get hurt too.” Jinyoung sighed, dropping his head onto the counter. “You don’t have to leave him forever.”

“I know. But it’s not something I want to do. Call me jealous-”

“Am I interrupting something?” Jinyoung turned his head to face Jackson, standing in the kitchen doorway awkwardly. BamBam looked at Jinyoung, who shrugged.

“Might as well tell him, Bam,” Jinyoung sighed. “It’s pointless to hide it.”

Jackson was still confused and Jinyoung was still moping, so BamBam took it upon himself to save them from their misery. Or at least, just explain. After doing so, Jackson’s mouth is agape. “Damn, are you living in a k-drama or something? That’s insane, man.”

Jinyoung almost rolled his eyes, but he’s too tired to do so. Instead, he just got up, drank a glass of water, and smiled tightly at Jackson. “Yeah. I think I’ll go to bed early. Eat whatever, or order something. Don’t let Yugyeom cook.”

As he trudged back into his room, Jaebeom, having just been defeated by Yugyeom, glanced up and saw his best friend leave. “Yugyeom, play against Jackson, okay? I need to ask Jinyoung something. Sounds good?” Yugyeom nodded, engrossed in the game, and Jackson came to play for Jaebeom.

“Jinyoungie, I’m coming in, all right?” Jaebeom knocked gently on his best friend’s door, and he can hear a muffled groan. Jaebeom opened the door and saw Jinyoung lying face down in the bed. “Jinyoungie, what’s wrong?”

“Nuthin’,” Jinyoung mumbled, turning his head off the pillow and away from the door.

“That doesn’t look like nothing, Jinyoung.” The older sighed, stepping forward and sitting in Jinyoung’s desk chair. “Is something the matter?”

Jinyoung didn’t respond, and just pulled a blanket over his head and rolled over some more, enough to wrap himself up like a mummy. Jaebeom sighed again, shifting the chair closer until he’s almost right next to the bed. Jinyoung didn’t move, so Jaebeom reached out and smoothed Jinyoung’s hair. “Hyung-”

Jaebeom’s heart leaps into his chest. He had never heard Jinyoung sound so pitiful ever since the younger had broken his knee cap in middle school. “Jinyoung? What’s wrong?”

“Hyung, I think maybe you should leave me alone.”

With those words, Jaebeom’s heart dropped. Never had he thought he would ever hear Jinyoung say that. Through thick and thin, the two had always stuck together. It was just two years ago Jaebeom found Jinyoung crying alone in his closet and seeing Jinyoung like this again made Jaebeom hurt. He ignores Jinyoung, moving to sit on the bed instead, and wraps an arm around Jinyoung. “Nyoung, I won’t make you talk to me, all right? But I don’t want to leave you alone, and I’ll sit and stay in here. I don’t want you to hurt alone.”

He lay beside Jinyoung, enveloping the younger in his arms, blanket burrito and all, and listened to Jinyoung’s breathing heightened…and then fell as the younger fell asleep.

As much as it hurt Jaebeom to see his best friend like this, he didn’t know what he did hurt Jinyoung more.

When Jinyoung woke, he knew Jaebeom was still there, feeling the older’s arms caressing his arms subconsciously. God, why is Jaebeom like this? Nice one minute and then the next running out the door to meet some girls.

He carefully slid out from between Jaebeom’s arms and adjusted the sheets to cover Jaebeom. As he tiptoed out of his room, he came face to face with Yugyeom, wringing his hands. “Gyeom?” he whispered, “What is it?”

“Hyung-“ Yugyeom was obviously distressed. Jinyoung reached up to brush his bangs out of hair. “ hyung, are you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad, baby?”

“I’m gay.“ Jinyoung almost laughed, if not for the look on Yugyeom’s face.

“Baby, I’d never be mad. Look at me and my gayness. Why on Earth would I be mad?” Yugyeom shrugged, still obviously worried. “The only thing I’m unhappy about is the fact you didn’t tell me. But not at you, Gyeom-ah. I’m just worried I failed something as your brother.”

Yugyeom shook his head. “No, hyung. Of course not. You’re the best big brother I could wish for.”

Jinyoung laughed. “Maybe you should get upset more often. I could get used to hearing that.” Yugyeom finally smiled, shoving his brother lightly.

“Hyung, don’t be a dumbass. Come on, let’s eat.” Jinyoung’s mouth dropped open in fake annoyance.

“Yah, respect your elders. Brat.” Jinyoung patted his pockets, before realizing he accidentally left his phone inside the room. He almost groaned audibly, before turning around and opening the door as quietly as he could.

However, that was unnecessary as Jaebeom had already woken, and was seated on the bed and rubbing his eyes. “Hey, hyung,” Jinyoung greeted him almost casually but got the words out slightly too fast.

“Jinyoung, you know you can always talk to me, right?” God, Jinyoung did not want to get into this talk.

“Hyung, I know. I just don’t want to talk about it right now,” Jinyoung sighed. “Maybe one of these days I will, but not right now. Have you seen my phone?”

Jaebeom, knowing that the conversation was over, nodded. “Yeah, it’s on the bed. You were sleeping on top of it.” Jaebeom grabbed it, but before handing it to Jinyoung, smirked. “I texted Youngjae for you.”

“You what?” Jinyoung narrowed his eyes. “Hyung, come on. I was going to get to it.” Jaebeom frowned.

“Really? I distinctly remember multiple times you almost failed a class because you “going to get back to your superiors,” Jinyoung.”

“Hyung, seriously. Maybe school was something, but this is my own business. Stop poking your nose into it. I’ll text Youngjae if I want to, and if I forget, I forget.” Jinyoung rolled his eyes, and Jaebeom’s temper flared.

“Yah, respect your elders, Park Jinyoung. I just wanted you to get out and talk to people. All you do is stay in here all day or work.”

“I’ll respect you once you respect my personal affairs, Jaebeom. And are you saying I’m not exciting because I like to stay inside? Jaebeom, come on. Don’t be daft.”

“I’m just saying-” Jaebeom raised his hands in mock surrender “-going out is fun. It’s an experience.”

“Im Jaebeom, just because you sleep around like a whore-“ Jinyoung slapped his mouth closed, eyes widening, and Jaebeom got up. He was mad. “Hyung, I didn’t mean it.” Jaebeom ignored him, brushing past Jinyoung’s shoulder and leaving the room immediately. Jinyoung sank down onto the floor and almost curses.

He lay there for who knows how long, or at least until his stomach growled, and BamBam pokes his head in. “Jinyoung hyung, are you all right? Jaebeom left in a huff thirty minutes ago and Jackson followed him. What happened?”

“I called him a whore, BamBam. I’m so stupid.” Jinyoung whined, slapping himself. “God, I’m such a dumbass.”

BamBam sighed. “Hyung, what did Jaebeom do? You don’t usually get this angry.”

“It wasn’t his fault-“ Jinyoung tried to defend, but BamBam shook his head.

“It was your own fault you said that, but he must have provoked you.” Jinyoung just groaned, patting the space next to him and BamBam joined him as the older man explained.

Sometime in the middle, Yugyeom joined in and Jinyoung had to explain all over again, getting almost choked up. “Hyung, I think you both were in the wrong. Jaebeom should have let you do your own thing. He’s not that much older than you, and even if he was, you’re an adult,” Yugyeom said.

“When did you two get so wise?” Jinyoung laughed wetly.

BamBam cackled, loud and clear as day. “We’re only wise when it comes to someone else’s affairs. Ours? Not so much. You should’ve seen Yugyeom flail in front of Ten hyung.”

Jinyoung’s eyebrow rose sky-high. “That’s right. Yugyeom, what is this…Ten like?”

The tips of Yugyeom’s ears turned red. “Ten hyung? He’s great. He’s loud and friendly. He likes cats, and he doesn’t like fruit.”

“He doesn’t like what now?”

“Fruit. I don’t know why, but it’s cute,” Yugyeom grinned to himself and BamBam gagged, causing the youngest to reach across Jinyoung and smack his best friend. “But enough about Ten hyung, what did Jaebeom hyung say to Youngjae hyung?”

Jinyoung shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t really look.” Yugyeom leaned over and grabbed the phone.

“Well, let’s check.”

Jinyoung grabbed the phone after a moment of hesitation and unlocked it. (The password was Jaebeom’s birthday but no one needs to know that.) The text, glaringly bright, just said a simple ‘Hey, how r u’ and there’s a moment of silence before Yugyeom burst out laughing.

“Jaebeom hyung thinks he’s slick but he’s just as bad at texting as you,” Yugyeom teases.

“Nah, at least Jaebeom hyung uses slang. Jinyoung hyung sounds like he’s texting a business partner.” Jinyoung smacked both of them, eliciting a few more laughs when Yugyeom gasped.

“Hyung, he’s texting you back-” Jinyoung’s head snaps to the phone where lo, and behold, Youngjae had just responded with a ‘hey, im good, how r u?’

At the prodding of the two youngest, Jinyoung replied, and he and Youngjae ended up starting a conversation. Yugyeom and BamBam exchanged looks before quietly leaving Jinyoung with his new beau.

‘What are u up to?’

               ‘Not much, I’m just lying down. How about you?’

‘LOL ur so formal. And you asked that already. But Im doing the same haha’

               ‘Sounds fun. I’m sure we are very exciting.’

‘How’s life?’

               ‘Boring. How’s yours?’

God, Jinyonug could feel the awkwardness oozing from his texts, and he resisted the urge to smack himself. Before he could, his phone rang, Youngjae was calling him. Jinyoung almost dropped the phone, but answered it quickly, pressing the phone to his ear.

“I think it’d be less awkward if we talked on the phone, yeah?” Youngjae’s bright voice sounded, not dulling even through the phone.

“Yeah, that might be best,” Jinyoung laughed. “How was work? It wasn’t too busy, I hope.”

“No, not at all.” A moment of silence when- “Hey, are you busy today?”

Jinyoung’s heart picked up. “No, not at all. Are you?’

“No.”

More silence, when Youngjae burst out laughing, and by default, so did Jinyoung. Who could resist laughing after Youngjae does, after all? “God, we’re embarrassing,” Jinyoung choked out through giggles.

“No, I think it’s all you. You just enable my awkward ability,” Youngjae teased. “But seriously, do you want to hang out today? I’m done tutoring.”

Tutoring reminded Jinyoung. “Yeah, that sounds good! Speaking of tutoring, I’ve heard you tutor my younger brother, Kim Yugyeom?”

“Wait, seriously? Kim Yugyeom is your brother?” Youngjae sounded flabbergasted and Jinyoung laughed once more.

“Yeah. I took our father’s last name and Yugyeom took our mother’s.”

“That’s neat. Yugyeom is such a cute kid, and he learns well.”

“Yeah, but he’s a brat.” The two of them snicker, and Jinyoung can hear Yugyeom sneeze twice.

“But seriously, do you want to meet up?” Jinyoung nodded, but then realised he’s stupid.

“Ah, yeah. Sure! When and where?”

“Does lunch at Ars Coffee work? I have a worker’s discount...and I own the place so the discount is not needed.” Jinyoung snorted.

“Wow, successful and handsome. I sure hit the jackpot. That sounds good.”

“Oh, haha, very funny. I’ll see you at noon.” Youngjae hung up, and Jinyoung stared at his phone for a few minutes, a stupid grin on his face.

God, he’s excited. He’s probably a little too excited. God, he can’t wait to tell Jaebeom. Jinyoung is brought back down from his emotional high as fast as Yugyeom buying an ice choco. Should he text Jaebeom or let the older cool down? Why did he have to run his mouth? Jaebeom was just trying to help and Jinyoung ruined it.

Unfortunately, today is still not a good day to wallow, Jinyoung has to get ready for his date. Date? Is it a date? Dear LORD Jinyoung’s going on a date. Jaebeom be damned (and thanked), he was a bit overeager and ran straight into the doorframe. “Hyung?” Yugyeom poked his head around the hallway corner. “Everything all right?”

Jinyoung beams. “I have a date.” Yugyeom snickers at Jinyoung’s face.

“God, hyung, you look stupid. But congratulations.” Jinyoung suddenly wiped the smile off his face, straightening up and sending the fear of God into Yugyeom’s heart.

“Kim Yugyeom, I may be going on a date with undeniably the cutest man to exist. But I am still your older brother and will not hesitate to kill you.”

Yugyeom cackled and ran into his room with BamBam, locking the door, and Jinyoung rolled his eyes. When his beloved “Ten hyung” comes around, he’ll have to answer to Jinyoung if he ever hurts Yugyeom.

But look at the time; Jinyoung needed to eat and change if he wanted to be at Ars Coffee at noon. Cereal is the fastest option, but BamBam finished the last of that (damn his sweet tooth), so Jinyoung just got a piece of bread and toasted it. He’s excited about his first date, he’s allowed to rush. By the time he had to leave, he had already tried on five different outfits, deciding on a simple black turtleneck and jeans. “I’m heading out, you two. Don’t cause trouble.”

“Get that dick, hyung!” Jinyoung heard Yugyeom and BamBam chorus from in their room, making a mental note to kill them later. But for now, he had a date he needed to go on.

Due to his excitement, he ended up arriving thirty minutes early, and Jinyoung just ordered and waited. Youngjae came barrelling in twenty minutes later, all smiley and Jinyoung could feel his heart melt. “Jinyoung! Hi!” Youngjae slid in across from him. “I heard you arrived really early; the co-owner and my friend told me.”

Jinyoung laughed, trying to cover up his embarrassment. “Damn, if I ever need to commit some shady business, remind me not to do it here. Your co-workers will just snitch on me.” Youngjae guffawed, the sound echoing in the shop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll vouch for you.” Jinyoung laughs as well.

“Thanks, I’m glad I now have a confidant for all my misadventures,” Jinyoung says, poking Youngjae’s arm.

“How many misadventures have you been getting into?” Youngjae raises a brow. “Last time we met, you were three-timing your boyfriends.” Jinyoung snorts.

“Oh, you have no idea. I rob banks and kill my best friends all the time.” Youngjae laughs once more, and Jinyoung could hear it all day, every day.

"You sound like someone my mother would warn me against," Youngjae teases. "I should stay away from you if I want to keep my reputation up."

Jinyoung chuckles. "Well, what's the fun in that?" He leans across the table slightly. "I say damn your reputation, let's go murder someone."

"I don't think that would fly over very well with my friend Mark, but alright. Tomorrow at seven? Who should we start with?"

Jinyoung snorts, all the possibilities going through his head. "Jaebeom," he says without thinking, and almost takes it back. But Youngjae doesn't know the argument; so he'll live with it.

"Who's that?" Youngjae cocks his head and Jinyoung resists the urge to coo.

“He’s my best friend.” Thankfully Jinyoung’s voice didn’t waver. “Everyone has the moment where you want to kill your best friend, surely.”

“No, I am an angel, couldn’t you tell?” Youngjae teased, and Jinyoung refrained from saying ‘yes.’ He liked Youngjae already; they have a lot in common and Jinyoung forgot all about the ordeal with Jaebeom as he spends time with the younger.

However, his glee was soon cut short when he arrived home and he saw Jaebeom’s shoes kicked off to the side. “Yugyeom-ah, is Jaebeom hyung here?” he asked the younger on the couch. Yugyeom looked up, shock registered on his face.

“Hyung, you weren’t supposed to be home ’til later,” Yugyeom stammered, and Jinyoung furrowed his eyebrows, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Kim Yugyeom, what is going on?” Jinyoung dropped his book bag onto the floor. “I don’t like it when you lie to me, you know this-“

“Jinyoung, it’s not Yugyeom’s fault.” Jinyoung’s head whipped around, Jaebeom having spoken from around the corner of the kitchen.

“Hyung, what are you doing here?” Jinyoung left Yugyeom on the couch and entered the kitchen, seeing Jaebeom cooking…something. “Well, never mind that, hyung. I guess since you’re here, I should apologise for earlier this morning. What I said was out of line and-“

Jaebeom waved him off. “No, just forget it, Jinyoung. We were both at fault. Let’s just put it behind us, hm? We can’t not be best friends over such a petty fight, right?”

“Yeah, best friends,” Jinyoung chuckled almost lifelessly. Time to shove yet another problem under the carpet. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“What, can’t I visit my best friend?” After a moment of silence, Jaebeom sighed, giving in. “I need to learn how to cook Italian dishes. I invited this girl over for dinner next week, and I want to impress her.”

“Can’t you order Italian takeout?” Jaebeom snorted.

“Takeout can’t cut it.”

“Have you forgotten the Great Noodle Incident, hyung? I don’t think I want you cooking weird recipes in my kitchen.” Jaebeom looked up from the pot to glare at Jinyoung.

“Wasn’t that your idea, Nyoung?”

“Well, I think it’s time for me to go. I’m a little tired, you know?” Jinyoung tried to make his escape, but Jaebeom is nothing if not petty.

“No, no, Jinyoung, please refresh my memory. How did the Great Noodle Incident start?” Jinyoung opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, before he was saved by the doorbell.

When he enters the living room to answer it, it appears Yugyeom had already opened the door to whoever it is standing outside. “Youngjae ah? What are you doing here?” Jinyoung blinked once, twice, thrice.

“Ah, you just forgot your phone at Ars.” Youngjae held up the device. “I texted Yugyeom for your address; I didn’t know he lives here too.”

“Oh, thanks.” Jinyoung smiled, walking over and taking his phone. “I appreciate it, Youngjae. Would you like to come in for a little? Jaebeom is here and you could meet him.”

Youngjae steps forward a bit. “I mean, I don’t want to intrude, but I would love to meet our murder victim once.” Jinyougn laughed out loud, covering his mouth again.

“That’s right. He’s in the kitchen, cooking who knows what. Maybe you could help him out; you work in the coffee shop so you’re bound to be a better cook.” Youngjae laughed.

“I only know how to make pastries, really, but I could try. What is he attempting?” Jinyoung shrugged.

“Some weird Italian recipe, and I don’t want the apartment burnt down.” Jinyoung led Youngjae to the kitchen, gesturing towards Jaebeom. “Youngjae, Jaebeom. Jaebeom, Youngjae.”

Jaebeom turned around, beaming and bowing. “It’s nice to meet you, Youngjae. I’m glad Jinyoung finally got out of his shell and met someone. Lord knows how long I’ve been trying to get him to go on a date.”

Yeah, cus I want to date you. “Well, how does it feel to have Jinyoung ssi finally go on a date then?” Youngjae saved Jinyoung from his thoughts, and Jinyoung poked Youngjae in the side for the comment.

Jaebeom snorted, slapping Jinyoung on the back. “God, I’m so relieved. I definitely would have thought this kid would become an old miserly man who yells at kids.”

“You are only seven months older than me, hyung. Don’t call me kid,” Jinyoung snapped playfully.

Jaebeom gasped. “Now, where has this attitude come from? Don’t talk back to your elders…kid.” It’s Jinyoung’s turn to chuckle.

“God, you’re so annoying.” Jinyoung turned to Youngjae. “See why I chose him as my first murder victim?”

“I don’t know…I think I like him,” Youngjae teased, and Jinyoung pouted.

“I’m so hurt. I’ve been betrayed,” he cried out, “Yugyeom, you’re the only one I love.”

“Ew, hyung, go away,” called Yugyeom from the other room, and the apartment was filled with laughter. God, Jinyoung was beyond happy Youngjae and Jaebeom are getting along. The two seemed to enjoy each other’s company, Youngjae coming around the counter to read the recipe Jaebeom had left out.

Jinyoung left the kitchen for a little, coming to sit by Yugyeom, who was watching a drama on his phone. “Yugyeom, why weren’t you going to tell me Jaebeom was here?”

Yugyeom didn’t look up from his drama, answering with a, “I thought he would be gone by the time you came back. I didn’t want you two to argue again. You know, hyung is my friend too, but I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Jinyoung sighs. “I know. I’ll try not to argue with him too much.”

“I’m not talking about that, hyung,” Yugyeom said, finally pausing his drama to look at his older brother, only this time Jinyoung avoided Yugyeom’s eyes. “Hyung, come on.”

“Yugyeom, where’s BamBam?” Jinyoung tried to change the subject, but Yugyeom was having none of that.

“He’s getting picked up from work by Jackson. Don’t dodge the situation.” Jinyoung still avoided Yugyeom’s eyes.

“I know. But we have guests, and I don’t want to deal with this just yet.”

“Deal with what?” Youngjae had just come around the corner, having finished with Jaebeom.

“My friend is coming over next week, and Jinyoung hyung doesn’t want to meet him since he thinks I’m going to elope or something,” Yugyeom lied smoothly. Jinyoung resisted the urge to kick him for that comment in thankfulness.

“Ooh, your boyfriend?” Yugyeom choked at Youngjae’s comment.

“No! Ten hyung is just a friend.”

“For now-” Jinyougn snorted, and Yugyeom whined.

“Hyung, seriously. You’re so annoying.” Jinyoung laughed at that, ruffling the younger’s hair.

“I’m just kidding, Yugyeom,” he laughed, and turned to Youngjae. “Are you leaving already?” Youngjae nodded sheepishly.

“Yeah, I have to get back to Ars; Mark co-owns the place with me and his shift is almost over.” Youngjae paused briefly, eyes flicking down to Jinyoung’s lips. Jinyoung catches the sly movement and smiles.

“Here, I’ll walk you down to your car.” Youngjae agreed readily, and the two exited the apartment to the sound of Yugyeom gagging really loudly. Jinyoung swore he’s going to kill Yugyeom one of these days. But not right now.

Right now, Jinyoung was focusing on how he and Youngjae are alone in the elevator, and how the younger keeps glancing at his lips. “Hyung-” Youngjae started to speak, and Jinyoung snapped his head to look at him. “Er- I like Jaebeom and Yugyeom. They’re very nice.”

Jinyoung beamed. “I’m glad I know them. As much as they annoy me, they are good friends.”

The silence became deafening again, and lasted until Youngjae and Jinyoung were standing in front of the younger’s car. “Hyung, thanks for letting me hang out for a little,” Youngjae said, and before Jinyoung could react, leant forward and pressed a kiss to the older’s lips before getting in his car and waving.

Jinyoung barely had the mind to wave back before Youngjae started the car and left. He remained in his daze all the way back up to his apartment, where Yugyeom finally had the sense to leave Jinyoung alone and let his brother go into his room without a hitch. Jaebeom, however, isn’t as kind, leaving Yugyeom with instructions on when to take whatever food he’s made out of the oven.

“So, Jinyoungie-ya! How did your date go?” Jaebeom rested against the bedroom door frame, grinning wide like the Cheshire Cat. God, Jinyoung would kiss the smirk off Jaebeom’s face if he could. Unfortunately, for one, he’s on his bed and wrapped up in blankets. And second, Jaebeom might punch him.

Jinyoung frowned with no spite. “It was good, hyung. I really like Youngjae. I’m glad I met him.” Jaebeom nodded once, twice.

“That’s…good. I’m glad, Jinyoungie. You deserve someone in your life.” Jaebeom smiled, but Jinyoung can feel something off about it. He pushes the feeling to the side; Jaebeom was probably still a little upset about the argument earlier.

“Hyung, come here,” Jinyougn smiled lightly, lifting up the blankets, and Jaebeom laughed, walking forward and cuddling up with Jinyoung.

“I forgot you’re so clingy sometimes,” Jaebeom teased, and Jinyoung snoted, kicking Jaebeom lightly in the shin.

“Don’t be mean, hyung,” Jinyonug whined and Jaebeom laughed again, wrapping his arm around Jinyoung’s waist. The younger could feel his heartstrings tugging, but he ignored the feeling, as he’s done all those years. “Hyung?”

“Yes, Nyongie?” Jaebeom was sleepy, and Jinyonug couldn’t blame him. He spent all this time cooking, and paired with the argument this morning, Jinyoung could understand why he’s tired.

“I love you,” Jinyoung whispered, and Jaebeom just groaned, pressing his cheek into Jinyoung.

“Love you too, Nyoung,” he mumbled out a reply before cuddling even closer, and Jinyoung almost cried. Thankfully, he didn’t (how embarrassing would that be) and instead fell asleep against his friend for the second time that day.

They’re woken up an hour later by Jackson, who had returned with BamBam and three cartons of ice-cream and the promise of a movie night. Well, Jinyoung wasn’t going to protest, especially since he didn’t have to pay for either dinner or the ice-cream.

Unfortunately, Jackson chose the movie, and as expected, it was an Iron Man movie. Jinyoung doesn’t know which one; he’s given up on paying attention. Instead, he’s crowded in between Jackson and Jaebeom, the former’s hand slightly uncomfortably high up on Jinyoung’s thigh. Jaebeom looked at the hand on Jinyoung’s thigh unhappily, wrapping his arm around Jinyoung again.

God, it was almost domestic, and Jinyoung could feel the warmth of his crush rise again. Why did he do this? He liked Youngjae; why did Jaebeom have to do this to him?

Jinyoung was suffocating, he couldn't handle this contact. He stood up abruptly, Jaebeom looking up with his eyebrows furrowed and Jackson frowning slightly. Yugyeom stayed silent, as did BamBam.

“Jinyoung-ah, are you all right?” Jackson speaks first. Jinyoung looked at him, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

At that, Yugyeom stood up, guiding him away from the group. “Hyung, go get a glass of water and go lie down in your room, all right?” Jinyoung nodded blankly, leaving, and as Jaebeom made to stand up, Yugyeom stopped him. “Jaebeom hyung, I don’t think you should go with him. Just enjoy the movie with Jackson hyung, all right?”

Jaebeom glared, but Yugyeom stood firm, and Jaebeom didn’t want to go against the wishes of Jinyoung’s younger brother and so he relented.

Yugyeom found Jinyoung in his room, as he was told, sitting against the bed on the floor and clutching the water in both hands. Yugyeom sighed at his brother’s obviously distressed state. “Hyung, drink the water. Holding it isn’t going to help,” he tried to joke, but it fell flat.

Jinyoung lifted the cup to his lips, taking small sips and Yugyeom sat next to him. “Yugyeom, why did this have to happen to me?” Jinyoung asked solemnly, and the brothers sighed in unison.

“Hyung, I think maybe you should take time off from seeing Jaebeom hyung. It’s doing nothing but hurting you.” Jinyoung finished his cup of water, and Yugyeom took it, putting it on the desk.

“Yugyeomie, I can’t.” Jinyoung’s plea almost broke Yugyeom’s heart. “He’s first and foremost my best friend.” Yugyeom tentatively wrapped his arms around Jinyoung, pulling his older brother into a tight hug, and Jinyoung choked out a sob.

“Hyung, I’ll handle it with Jaebeom, all right? I’m sure he just wants you to be happy.” Jinyoung didn’t respond, crying silently into Yugyeom’s chest.

Sooner or later, Jinyougn was too exhausted, and fell asleep in Yugyeom’s arms, the third time today. Yugyeom didn’t move, too worried to wake up the older, and Jaebeom quietly opened the door and poked his head in.

“Is he doing all right?” Jaebeom walked in further, leaning down and brushing a piece of hair out of Jinyoung’s mouth.

Yugyeom sighed, looking up at Jaebeom. “Hyung, I don’t think he can see you and Jackson any more.” Jaebeom’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean?”

“Hyung, it’s not like that,” Yugyeom added hastily. “I just think that he’s been overstressed with work and making sure you and Jackson don’t notice. I’m forcing him to take a few days off. BamBam has to stay since he doesn’t have a place to stay, but I want Jinyoung to indulge in what he wants. Haven’t you noticed he started rejecting you subconsciously?”

Jaebeom’s frown deepened, but he made no comment. Of course he’s noticed the way Jinyoung flinches when Jaebeom initiates physical contact, the way he avoids Jaebeom’s eyes. “I just don’t want Jinyoung by himself.”

“He won’t be alone, hyung. I promise. I’ll keep an eye on him, and so will BamBam.” Yugyeom reassured, and Jaebeom backed off. Yugyeom knows what he’s doing, Jaebeom reminds himself.

“All right. Jackson and I will be going then. Make sure Jinyoung feels better soon, all right? Can’t have my best friend die on me.” Yugyeom nodded and Jaebeom finally left.

Yugyeom stayed in Jinyoung’s room for the rest of the night, lifting Jinyoung into his bed and curling up next to him. At some point, BamBam had joined the cuddle party, and when Jinyoung awakened, he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t for a long while, but the cuddle party overheated him, so he wriggled his way out of Yugyeom’s arms carefully.

As he made his way into the kitchen, his phone buzzed, and looking at it, Jinyoung noticed Youngjae had texted him, asking him if he wanted to come over today. ‘Mark is at a friend’s for the whole day so we could hang out and watch movies or something’ the text read, and Jinyoung’s heart leapt into his throat.

He responded quickly, agreeing readily, and asked for a time. Youngjae responded just as fast, offering five in the evening, and Jinyoung accepted. He poked his head into his room to see Yugyeom and BamBam still asleep, curled around each other.

He didn’t want to wake them up; it must have been the jet lag getting to them, so Jinyoung let them sleep in. They looked so peaceful anyway; Jinyoung would’ve felt bad if he woke them. But when he tried to exit the room, the buzz of his phone alerting him to a new text alerted BamBam as well. “Hyung?” the Thai man groggily opened his eyes. “Good morning.”

Jinyoung threw him a smile. “Morning, Bam,” he responded, keeping his voice low. “Did you have a good night?”

BamBam sat up, Yugyeom’s head on his chest falling to his lap. “Yeah. Hyung, are you doing all right?” Jinyoung shrugged.

“As good as I can do now. Don’t wake up Yugyeom, all right?” BamBam nodded, looking down at the youngest in his lap. “I’ll be going out later on this evening to see Youngjae.”

BamBam wriggled his eyebrows, and Jinyoung restrained himself from hitting his brother’s friend. “Get that ass, Jinyoung.”

“If anything, Youngjae will get this ass,” Jinyoung stated smoothly, and before BamBam could recover from his shock, exited the room smoothly.

As he glanced down at his phone, three missed calls from an unknown number were there, and Jinyougn frowned, swiping the notifications away. It was probably a telemarketer; Jinyoung had been getting a lot of those calls recently. No big deal, Jinyoung just blocked the number without a hitch.

Breakfast is more important than weird phone calls, anyway. He can’t cook to save his life, but Jinyoung does know Jaebeom kept leftovers from yesterday in the fridge. He’s still unsure whether he likes the ziti, or whatever Jaebeom made, but it’s food.

He popped a plate of ziti into the microwave, keeping an eye on the timer to stop it before it beeped and woke up Yugyeom. But he didn’t need to; Yugyeom had awoken and was coming around the corner. “Hyung, why didn’t you wake me up?”

Jinyoung shrugged. “You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you up.” This was apparently the wrong thing to say, Yugyeom smirked.

“Aw, is my big bro being soft for his favorite brother?” Jinyoung swiped at Yugyeom, who dodged easily.

“Brat.”

Yugyeom cackled at his older brother’s misery, a regular occurence in this household. Jinyoung did his best to ignore him, instead sending a few cat pictures to Jaebeom. Surprisingly, the older didn’t respond right away, but Jinyoung shrugged it off, pinning it down to Jaebeom probably forgetting to charge his phone again.

BamBam needed yet another ride to work, so Jinyoung offered to take him to get his mind off the upcoming date. Yugyeom wanted to tag along, and Jinyoung knew if that happened, they’d be making two different stops to get food. But Yugyeom shot him with the puppy eyes, and Jinyoung could feel himself give in. Damn him and his soft heart. Thank god Jackson would pick them up instead of him.

And, as expected, Jinyoung waited outside a convenience store as Yugyeom and BamBam bought ramen. As he waited, someone came up to him. The man looked vaguely attractive; his features fit each other perfectly and gave him a gorgeous aura. “Excuse me?” Jinyoung pinched himself discreetly to get him out of his funk.

“How may I help you?” The stranger offered a slight smile, and Jinyoung had to focus really hard on his eyes instead of his lips.

“I’m a little lost; I just arrived and I was wondering if you knew where Seoul National University is.” Jinyoung ‘ah’ed in understanding.

“Yeah, it’s a little far from here. Which airport did you come from?” The person ran a hand through his hair sheepishly.

“Gimpo Airport.”

Jinyoung snorted. “Apologies,” he said quickly, covering his mouth with his hand, “you went in the opposite direction.”

The stranger’s mouth opened, but he had nothing to say except a crass phrase, and Jinyoung snorted again. “Sorry- God, I’m an idiot.”

“No, it’s not a big deal. You can take the bus to University; there’s a bus that stops a few miles away. Or, you could take a taxi.” Jinyoung offered, and the man nodded.

“Yeah, thank you. Where’s the bus stop?” Jinyoung pointed out the way and the bus he had to take. “Thank you again, I appreciate it.” The man flashed a smile and Jinyoung could feel his knees shaking, but stood firm.

“No problem. Good luck.” As soon as the man turned the corner, Yugyeom ran up with the instant noodles in his hands.

“Hyung! We got the noodles.”

“Yah, what took you so long, brat?” Jinyoung pinched Yugyeom’s ear. “It’s cold.”

Yugyeom whined, and BamBam laughed at his friend’s misfortune before Jinyoung grabbed his ear too. “Hyung-“ the two youngest groaned, and Jinyoung huffed.

“Eat your noodles, or else you’ll be late, BamBam.” Jinyoung rolled his eyes, and BamBam cackled.

Yugyeom had kindly gotten him a packet of juice from the store, and as BamBam and Yugyeom made fun of each other, Jinyoung sipped on the juice like a mom watching their kids play in the pool. They arrived at BamBam’s work, a dance studio, and as BamBam stepped out, so did Yugyeom. Jinyoung threw him a questioning look, and Yugyeom smiled.

“I’m going to apply to work here,” Yugyeom explained, and Jinyoung nodded in understanding. “Don’t be too loud, Hyung. Youngjae’s neighbors might call the police.”

Jinyoung’s face hardened, and Yugyeom and BamBam ran into the building cackling like the little devils they are. “Yah, Kim Yugyeom,” he muttered under his breath, well aware the taller man couldn't hear him.

But now was not the time to sulk around at his younger brother’s (loving) disrespect, he needed to get home and change for his date. On the way home, he passed by the bus stop he directed the stranger from earlier to, and saw the man sitting on the bench. Jinyoung laughed quietly, the situation was kind of funny once you thought about it.

Jinyoung remembered when he and Yugyeom had first moved to Seoul from Jinhae-gu. The younger had gotten lost so many times, and Jinyoung had gotten lost even more times trying to find Yugyeom. He hoped the stranger would be able to find his way around. Though, with that pretty face, Jinyoung didn’t think he would have any trouble getting help.

The stranger reminded Jinyoung a little of Jaebeom. When the older had first gone to Jinhae-gu to meet Jinyoung’s family, Jaebeom was lost at almost all times of the day. It was adorable, and honestly, Jinyonug felt a sense of satisfaction from feeling helpful to Jaebeom. Hopefully, I can be the same for Youngjae, Jinyoung thought as he pulled into the parking area of his apartment building.

He had about ten minutes to change before he had to leave again, and Jinyoung was too lazy to dress a little nicer, so he just threw on some jeans and an orange sweater that BamBam had tried (keyword: tried) to convince Jinyoug to get rid of. It was a comfy sweater, though, and Jinyoung liked it. Fuck BamBam.

Jinyoung remained proud of his sweater all the way up to when he texted Youngjae, letting him know he’s there. But as soon as Youngjae opened the door and looked at his shirt, Jinyoung could feel his ears turn red. “Hey,” Youngjae laughed. “I like your sweater.”

Jinyoung scrunched his nose, ears turning slightly red. “Thanks. I like it too.”

“No, seriously,” Youngjae patted Jinyoung on the back. “It’s not something that would look good on anyone, but you pull it off.”

“The more you talk about it the more self-conscious I get, you know?” Youngjae didn't respond, just laughed, and led Jinyoung up three flights of stairs. Youngjae’s apartment was comfortable, small enough for two people, with a lot of plants everywhere. The couch was a beige, matching the white rug, which Jinyoung wondered how it was so clean.

If he had a rug like that, Yugyeom would have spilt chocolate on it six times, BamBam would have dropped lipstick just as much, and Jaebeom’s cats would have ripped it to shreds whenever the older brought them over. “Do you like it?” Jinyoung looked up at Youngjae, and nodded.

“It’s very neat. Where did you get your barstools?” Youngjae snorted.

“Yardsale. Mark just repainted them.” Jinyoung chuckled, but Youngjae motioned him toward the couch and made him sit down. “Let me get some water and then we can look for something to watch, sound good?”

Jinyoung nodded again, it seemed like the only thing he could do right now. Youngjae walked behind the counter, and Jinyoung dug his feet into the rug, appreciating the softness of it. “How is this rug so clean?” he wondered aloud, and Youngjae sighed.

“It wasn’t. But I banned Mark from being on the rug with snacks after I got it professionally cleaned.” Jinyoung laughed.

“Is he that messy?”

“Not on purpose, no, but he likes to eat chips a lot, and the crumbs get all over the rug. I wouldn’t have minded if he ate gummies,” Youngjae gripes, returning with two glasses of water. “I brought you a glass too just in case.”

Jinyoung thanked Youngjae, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip, not noticing how Youngjae’s eyes moved to his eyes. “What movie do you want to watch?” Jinyoung asked, and Youngjae smirked, eyes moving back up to Jinyoung’s eyes.

“Aren’t I supposed to ask that?” Jinyoung hummed.

“Well, I like most movies. Romance, comedy, and horror are some of my favorite genres. Do with that as you will.” Jinyoung winked at Youngjae, and Youngjae laughed breathily.

“I like romance and comedy as well, but I don't sit well with horror.” Youngjae turned on the TV, scrolling through Netflix’s menus, before the two of them finally settled on some obscure comedy neither had ever heard of.

To be frank, Jinyoung was the only one paying attention to the movie. Youngjae couldn’t keep his eyes off Jinyoung’s profile, especially when the older one laughed loudly. Sooner or later, Youngjae found himself leaning in and Jinyoung turned his head and smiled flusteredly. “Hyung,” Youngjae starts breathily, “may I kiss you?”

Jinyoung whined out a yes, and Youngjae pressed his lips against Jinyoung’s tentatively, both men closing their eyes. Youngjae’s lips were chapped while Jinyoung’s were soft, and the difference was felt almost immediately. Youngjae attempted to lick his lips while still kissing Jinyoung, and as expected, Jinyoung parted his lips slightly. Youngjae jolted slightly, surprised, but got back into the groove of things.

He pressed further, Jinyoung’s back pushed into the arm of the couch. It wasn’t quite that comfortable, but Jinyoung ignored the feeling, instead opening his mouth a little wider. Youngjae took this opportunity and ran his tongue along the seam of Jinyoung’s teeth.

The whimper that came out of Jinyoung’s mouth surprised both of them, and Jinyoung quickly tried to explain himself. He started with a, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”, but was quickly cut off by Youngjae leaning forward and kissing him again.

The two kissed for what seemed like hours, but it was only about five minutes before Jinyoung broke away and whined out, “Can I suck you off, please?” The plea goes straight to Youngjae’s dick who nodded quickly and shifted backwards on his butt to let Jinyoung lean forward.

Jinyoung reached for Youngjae’s sweatpants, pulling it down as quickly as he could. However, before he removed Youngjae’s boxers, Jinyoung slid off the couch onto his knees and adjusted Youngjae to sit with his legs on either side of Jinyoung’s body. He then leans in.

“Fuck.” The obscenity spouted out of Youngjae’s mouth as soon as Jinyoung pressed his lips against Youngjae’s covered crotch. “Fuck, hyung.”

Jinyoung laughed breathily, the feeling making Youngjae moan, and Jinyoung pulled down his boxers at last, freeing Youngjae’s cock. “Youngjae-yah,” is all Jinyoung whined before leaning forward and licking a stripe up the younger one’s cock.

Before Youngjae could react, Jinyoung sucked the dick into his mouth and dipped his tongue into the slit. “Hyung-” Jinyoung looked up through his eyelashes at Youngjae and Youngjae almost creamed his pants. “Hyung, if you keep going I might cum right now,” Youngjae breathed.

Jinyoung popped off Youngjae’s cock with an obscene sound, and smirked, his full lips bitten to shame. “Good.” Youngjae swore he saw heaven and hell at the same time when Jinyoung sucks his cock down until his lips wrap around the base.

Youngjae’s hips twitched, and Jinyoung moaned, moaned, and swallowed around Youngjae’s dick. “Fuck, Jae-yah. Fuck my mouth,” Jinyoung rasped, popping off Youngjae’s cock and licking up the beading pre-cum. As soon as Jinyoung slid Youngjae’s cock back into his mouth, Youngjae gave him a questioning look, and Jinyoung nodded to reassure the younger.

Youngjae gave a few testing thrusts, and when all Jinyoung did was relax and open his jaw even wider, his thrusts built up until Jinyoung was drooling all down his chin and crying. It was when Jinyoung brushed his tongue alongside the bottom of Youngjae’s cock when the imaginary band around Youngjae’s cock snapped.

Youngjae cummed. His ears burned; he hadn’t meant to cum like a teenage boy watching porn for the first time, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

“God, Jinyoung,” Youngjae wheezed. “How on Earth are you so good at this?” Jinyoung chuckles, the sound throaty and rough.

“Practice from college...and my three girlfriends,” he joked as an afterthought.

“Do you need any help?” Youngjae offered, but Jinyoung glanced at the TV and then the clock. The movie was over, and Jinyoung would have to pick something up for dinner.

“No, maybe next time,” Jinyoug sighed, throwing Youngjae a wink and a smile. “I have to feed the kiddos.”

Youngjae laughed, bright and loud as always. “Can’t let them starve. Drive safe back.” He leaned forward, planting a much more sweet and much less sensual kiss on Jinyoung’s lips. Something that Jaebeom would do. Jinyoung’s ears burned; he just sucked off Youngjae, why is he thinking about Jaebeom. “Jinyoung?”

Youngjae’s voice brought Jinyoung back to his senses, and he smiled.

“Will do.”

On the way home, Jinyoung couldn’t stop thinking about why Jaebeom suddenly popped into his head. Fuck it.

Jinyoung steered to the side of the road, parking in front of a convenience store, and called Youngjae. “Jinyoung?”

“Hey, Youngjae,” Jinyoung said, voice thick. “Um, I don’t think this will work out. I’m really sorry, I did like you in that way. But I also have feelings for someone else and I don’t want to lead you on. It’s nothing against you, I just-”

Youngjae cut him off. “No, it’s okay, Jinyoung. It’s Jaebeom, isn’t it?” Jinyoung paused.

“How’d you know?”

“I saw how you looked at him, and how he looked at you.” Jinyoung snorted.

“Oh, he’s not gay. But I just don’t think I could date you if I had major feelings for him as well,” Jinyoung laughed shortly.

He could hear Youngjae sigh in the background. “Well, whatever you say. But hey, if you ever want to, my door is open. After all, I am a lonely old man,” Youngjae ended with a joke, and Jinyoung scoffed.

“If you’re old, what am I?”

“An ancient and wise sage. Bye, hyung,” Youngjae snarked before hanging up, and Jinyoung stuck his middle finger up at the phone screen even though he knew it would do nothing. Glancing to the side, Jinyoung decided to pop into the store before heading to Jaebeom’s apartment.

He picked up a few bottles of soju and some packets of snacks before paying and leaving. Before he started driving, though, he texted Yugyeom to let him know he would be late in getting home. For some reason, Jinyoung didn’t tell the younger he was going to Jaebeom’s place, chalking it up to the fact Yugyeom would probably berate him.

He arrived at Jaebeom’s floor, letting himself in with the key given to him when the apartment was leased, and saw something he hadn’t meant to.

Jinyoung was going to confess.

Really.

He was.

But Jaebeom was shirtless, and there was a naked man. Yes, man. Standing next to him. And when Jinyoung says naked, he means naked. The man had nothing but a pair of lace underwear on, and one of Jaebeom’s tank tops. Something he did not want to see. And definitely not next to Jaebeom.

Jinyoung dropped the bag of food and just as Jaebeom opened his mouth in disbelief, booked it out of the apartment. Jinyoung forwent the elevator, just thundering down the stairs and into his car before driving just past the speed limit to reach his home.

When he burst into his door, Yugyeom looked up, shocked at his brother’s face. Before Yugyeom could even say anything, Jinyoung choked out a, “Don’t,” before practically running into his room and slamming the door.

A reasonable reaction.

What wasn’t a reasonable reaction, however, was the fact that Jinyoung stayed holed up in his room for a week. Yugyeom tried picking the lock, but Jinyoung had moved his desk in front of the door. He only took the food left in front of the door once it was cold, and answered no calls.

Worried was an understatement when it came to how his friends and family were feeling. His mother called multiple times at the prodding of Yugyeom, and hell, even Youngjae came over to try to coax him out of his room.

Jinyoung wouldn’t budge, however. He refused to even open the door. It just hurt. Jinyoung didn’t know the exact reason.

Was it the fact Jaebeom never told him he was gay? Jinyoung knew it could have been a one time thing or the older had just found out, but it still hurt. Maybe it was because Jinyoung had finally picked up the courage to tell Jaebeom how he felt, but then...that situation happened.

Jinyoung doesn’t even want to think about it, but he couldn’t. He tried opening his laptop to work, but his mind inevitably wandered to Jaebeom and the stranger’s look of surprise. He tried reading his English dictionary, but he saw the notes Jaebeom doodles in them in secondary school, and his heart wrenched.

He knew he was wallowing, he knew it was insanely and exceedingly unhealthy. But staying in his room and crying just seemed so much safer than going out into the world.

But Yugyeom was not having any of that. He was not ready to watch his older brother decay, and so, forced the door open and pushed the desk forward just enough to get through and into Jinyoung’s room, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Hyung, talk to me,” Yugyeom pleaded when he sat on the bed next to Jinyoung’s bundled up body.

Hearing his baby brother on the verge of tears and begging, Jinyoung finally released the dam, head buried in the younger one’s lap. He sobbed for hours, Yugyeom just petting his hair. He didn’t know how long he cried, but he did know at some point, he had fallen back asleep. Crying takes a lot of energy, you know.

When he wakes up, Yugyeom is still there, still holding him. “Hyung, do you want to talk about it,” Yugyeom tried to coax Jinyoung to speak, and Jinyoung sighed. He really couldn’t wallow all week about this; this was just sad.

Jinyoung swallowed once, twice, then started to explain. The entire time, Yugyeom kept a neutral face, but Jinyoung could see the pity in his eyes. “So...in conclusion, I’m an idiot,” Jinyoung laughed, voice rasped and tired.

Yugyeom clucked his tongue, sighing. “No, hyung, you’re not. You were just shocked and hurt. We can’t help how we feel.” Jinyoung shrugged.

“I know, Gyeom-ah. I just don’t want it to hurt that much.” Yugyeom nodded and Jinyoung returned his head to his younger brother’s lap.

“Hyung, I’m going to take you out.” Jinyoung’s eyes snapped to Yugyeom’s face, and Yugyeom blanched. “Not like that, dumbass! I’ll take you around town tomorrow; we’ll just forget the past few days, all right? Ten hyung will be in the dance studio as well, and you can meet him.”

Jinyoung just grunted, worn out, and Yugyeom petted him back to sleep, slipping out of the room and into the kitchen where Jaebeom was waiting worriedly. “Is he doing all right?” was the first question out of Jaebeom’s mouth, and Yugyeom shrugged.

“He’s as good as he’ll be, hyung. He’s unhappy, maybe disappointed, but I don’t know when he will be out of his funk,” Yugyeom explained. “I’m taking him to meet Ten hyung tomorrow, hopefully that can get his mind off the fact you never told him you were bi. He must have felt so hurt seeing you.” Yugyeom wisely left out the part where Jinyoung also had a crush on him.

From the tone of his voice, Jaebeom could tell Yugyeom was mad at him. “Look, I didn’t...I didn’t think it was important.” Jaebeom wrung his hands. “Not that I didn’t want to tell him. I just-”

“Don’t give me excuses,” Yugyeom snapped. “You hurt my brother. Unintentional, or not, you withheld it for your own personal reasons. I can’t stay angry for long, but I advise you to get out of the apartment for now.” Jaebeom took a step back, pausing, but left soon after.

Yugyeom slumped over the counter, tired out. He hadn’t meant to snap at Jaebeom; who was he to be angry about Jaebeom hiding when he had done the same thing to Jinyoung? Well, the difference was that Jinyoung hyung doesn’t have a crush on me, he thought.

He really hoped meeting Ten hyung would bring Jinyoung out of his slump, but he doubts that it would happen. But maybe, just for a short while, it would distract Jinyoung.

So, when Yugyeom drove Jinyoung to the studio and Ten hyung was waiting outside, he really didn’t expect Jinyoung to laugh and say, “Oh, the lost guy! I didn’t know you were Yugyeomie’s ‘Ten hyung.’”

“Hyung, you know him?” Jinyoung nodded.

“Yeah, when I was driving BamBam to work, he asked me for directions.” Yugyeom’s mouth dropped open.

“No way,” he laughed. “Hyung, you literally know everyone.” Jinyoung snorted, pulling Yugyeom’s ear, and the three of them headed into the dance studio.

“Ten hyung, did you know Jinyoungie used to be a dancer as well?” Yugyeom began to say, and Jinyoung groaned, attempting to swat at Yugyeom.

“Kim Yugyeom, I swear-” Yugyeom dodged him, cackling. Ten watched, amused.

“Well. I’m sure you will be able to keep up with me and Yugyeom, then?” Jinyoung shook his head.

“Oh, no no, I’m not going to dance.” Yugyeom smirked, and Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “Seriously. You can’t make me.”

Jinyoung flopped on the ground, sweaty and tired. “Love you too, hyung,” Yugyeom teased, poking Jinyoung’s sweaty forehead. Jinyoung grabbed the younger’s hand, pulling him down to wrestle, and Ten laughed.

“Okay, you two kids, no more fooling around,” Ten jokingly reprimanded. “Jinyoung-ssi; I didn’t expect you to catch up to me and Yugyeom this easily.”

Jinyoung snorted, flicking his hair out of his face. “I’m not that old, you know. I’m only, what, two years older than you? It’s only been three years since I graduated, too.”

Ten’s head cocked. “Really? I didn’t know that. Somehow I thought you would be older.” His lips pulled into a sweet smile, and Jinyoung could see Yugyeom mirror the smile. He laughed internally at his brother’s obvious crush. It was wholesome, cute, and not like his own trash bin of a love life. He winced at the memory of Jaebeom’s face when he caught him at his apartment yesterday, and the motion didn’t go unnoticed by Yugyeom.

“Hyung, do you wanna get us something to eat? I want to ask Ten hyung something.” Jinyong nodded quickly, eager to get his thoughts out of the dumpster.

“Yeah, I’ll just pop over to the convenience store a block down, do you guys want anything specific?”

After Ten and Yuyeom threw their dozens of orders at him and Jinyoung forced them to write it down, he slipped out the door and studio, walking down the road in the brisk and cool weather. Unfortunately, Jinyoung had forgotten his jacket. The sun was out, though, so Jinyoung wasn’t too unhappy. It was just a quick walk and the store would probably be warmer than outside.

Inside the store, Jinyoung was in the middle of a purchase, when he heard his name being called. “Jinyoung-ssi!” Ten was waving to him from outside the store. Jinyoung finished up his purchase, taking the plastic bag and meeting Ten outside as the two of them began the way back.

“Hey, Ten. What’s up?”

“I wanted to return your jacket; it’s a bit windy.” A pause, and then Ten opened his mouth, “Jinyoung-ssi, does Yugyeom have a crush on me?”

Jinyoung choked on the juice pack he had opened on the walk. “You should ask him that yourself, Ten-ah.”

Ten ignored him, going on with his thoughts. “I like him, but not in that way. And I don’t want to let him down; he’s a good friend.”

Jinyoung sighed. “Ten, seriously. You need to ask Yugyeom yourself, and tell him yourself. He’s a good kid, and sensible. He won’t take it to heart.”

“I suppose so.” They’re quiet until they reach the building, where Yugyeom was waiting in the lobby.

“We’re not supposed to eat in the dance room, so we gotta eat here, hyungs,” Yugyeom said, taking the bag from Jinyoung and rifling through it for his tteokbokki chips. “Ah, hyung, you forgot my sweet potato snacks.”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “Yugyeom, you consume an unholy amount of those at the apartment, you can deal with me forgetting them this time.” At Ten’s look, he added, “I’m running to the bathroom. Don’t touch my snacks.”

While in the bathroom, Jinyoung debated listening in the hallway to hear what Ten and Yugyeom had to say, but he decided against it. Yugyeom was old enough to make decisions himself.

As he waited for a reasonable amount of time for Ten and Yugyeom to stop talking, his phone binged with a text from the unknown number from earlier. The text read, ‘This is Mark, Youngjae’s roommate,’ and Jinyoung paused.

He took a screenshot, sending it to Youngjae, but the younger didn’t respond. He’s probably busy at Ars. As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, he stepped into the hallway where Ten was waiting. “Hey, Jinyoung-ssi. So. Would you like good news or bad news first?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Ten smiled awkwardly, “Yugyeom felt like he needed space to get over me, so he went home. The good news is he still wants to be friends as well. The bad news is that I take the bus and can’t give you a ride home.”

Jinyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. Of course Yugyeom would do that. “It’s fine, I’ll just call a friend to take me home,” he bit out, not quite angry but not exactly happy either.

He called Jackson almost immediately. “Hey, Park Gae, what’s up?”

“Jackson, I need a ride home. Yugyeom left me at the dance studio.” Jinyoung ripped his phone away from his ear. Jackson had yelled into the phone with excitement.

“Dance? I didn’t know you danced, Jinyoungie-ah! I wanna see you sometime!”

“Yeah, no,” Jinyoung said almost immediately, “but I do need a ride home.”

Jackson laughed. “About that...sorry, no can do. I’m out of town for the weekend. I know you’re not on speaking terms with Jaebeom, but you could try to ask him. I don’t know what’s going on with you two. But I’m sure he’ll be fine with driving you.”

“...Yeah.” Jackson hung up, unaware of Jinyoung’s hesitation. Looks like he’s out of the option. Jinyoung rang up Youngjae next, but he didn’t answer again. Looks like Jinyoung needed to take the bus. As he pocketed his phone, that unknown number from earlier claiming they were Mark called, and Jinyoung, at his wit’s end, answered.

“Is this Park Jinyoung?” The voice on the other end was deep, especially through the phone, and Jinyoung felt like if he wasn’t so obsessed with Jaebeom, he might fall in love with this voice as well.

“Yes, why?” The voice laughed.

“I’m Youngjae’s roommate. Youngjae, say hi to your ex.” Jinyoung choked, and he could hear Youngjae in the background.

“Why are you calling Jinyoung? How’d you get his number?” Jinyoung couldn’t not laugh at the confusion laced in Youngjae’s voice.

“Anyways,” Mark, Jinyoung presumed, continued on, “I texted you because I have something I need to clear up with you. Can we meet up?”

Jinyoung frowned. “What do you need to clear up? I’ve never met you in my life.”

“You’ve met me once. At Jaebeom’s apartment.” Jinyoung’s heart raced.

“I’m not sure I would want to meet up with you, then. For one, you slept with my best friend when I didn’t even know my best friend liked men,” Jinyoung took a deep breath.  “And for two, I saw your dick hanging out some lacy underwear. I don’t think I could look at you straight in the eye after that.”

Mark laughed loudly, and if he strained his ears, Jinyoung could hear Youngjae in the back laughing just as loudly. “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. That...was not what was supposed to happen. Look, man, I promise I’m not evil. Ars is closed today; I’ll even bring Youngjae along. Is that fine with you?”

Jinyoung sighed. “Sure. I guess so. You’re going to have to pick me up though, Yugyeom left me at Easy Dance Studio.” Mark snorted.

“Is this your super secret plan to use me as a chauffeur?” Jinyoung finally laughed at that, agreeing between breaths. “I knew it. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

They were five minutes late, but Jinyoung didn’t think about it. He was too busy trying to avoid Mark’s eyes as he slid into the backseat and fiddled with his fingers. “Hey, Jinyoung,” Youngjae leaned around the passenger seat, offering Jinyoung a soft smile. “How was your week?”

“Shitty-” Jinyoung said without thinking, and both Mark and Youngjae laughed.

“Sounds like it,” Mark said, and paused for a split second before words came tumbling out of his mouth. To be honest, half of it was in English and Jinyonug only understood the words ‘sorry,’ and ‘Jaebeom,’ and ‘never.’

“Hold up, Mark-ssi. Can you speak in Korean?” Jinyoung asked, furrowing his brows, and Mark laughed, albeit a bit more strained.

“Yeah. Sorry. I wasn’t sleeping with Jaebeom. That’s the first thing I should start out with. I had sex with Jackson, and I wasn’t aware Jackson had a roommate. But when I woke up, Jackson had left for out of town, which was kind of dumb. Who leaves a stranger in their apartment?”

Youngjae prodded Mark. “Hyung. Off topic.”

“Sorry, sorry. But Jaebeom was there, and he had lent me a tank top, though none of his pants stayed up. Apparently Jackson had thought Jaebeom would get rid of me if I tried anything. That was when you walked in. And you entered. Though correctly, you had assumed Jaebeom was not straight and hadn’t told you. But we never fucked.”

Jinyoung sat in the backseat in complete silence for the rest of the ride, and both Mark and Youngjae felt they shouldn’t say any more. But when they reached his apartment, before leaving, Jinyoung spoke. “Thank you for telling me, Mark. I’ll have to talk to Jaebeom soon. But I appreciate it, and if I could ever get the image of your penis out of my head, I’d love to be your friend.”

Mark chuckled. “That sounds great. Please do not think about my penis, even if I know it’s great.” Youngjae choked, slapping Mark on the back.

“Hyung! Don’t praise your dick in front of me and Jinyoungie hyung.”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes and smiled, getting out of the car and waving at the two friends as they drove off. Once they were out of sight, he stood in front of his apartment building for a few minutes before heading up.

Yugyeom was out, having left a note dictating he was hanging out with BamBam, so Jinyoung took this opportunity to text Jaebeom and asked him to come over. Jaebeom had replied almost instantaneously with confirmation, and Jinyoung waited in anticipation.

Jaebeom didn’t live too far, so he only had to wait fifteen minutes, though they felt like hours. The sound of the door unlocking caused Jinyoung to whip his head toward the kitchen entrance, locking eyes with Jaebeom as he rounded the corner.

“Hi.” Jinyoung broke the ice first, and Jaebeom immediately added a hyung to the end of that, as per habit, before he started crying. “Oh, hyung.” Jinyoung immediately came around the island, wrapping an arm around Jaebeom.

The two stayed like that in silence save the refrigerator humming. When Jaebeom finally got all his tears out, he whispered out an, “I’m so sorry,” and Jinyoung’s heart broke once again.

“Hyung, don’t be sorry.” Jaebeom shook his head, and Jinyoung quieted.

“No, Nyoungie, let me finish.” Jaebeom took a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry I never told you I was bisexual. It sounds stupid of me, but I was scared how you would react. I know you are for the LGBT+ community, but when I found out I was, I didn’t know. And then I just kept it a secret for so long; I never felt like it would ever be the right time to tell you. I’m sorry I hurt you and lied to you.”

Jinyoung laughed through his own tears. “Hyung, I haven’t been completely honest with you either.” Jaebeom quieted, and Jinyoung took the opportunity. His heart hurt from pounding so hard against his ribcage, but it was now or never. “I’ve been in love with you for years, since before college.”

Jaebeom says nothing for a minute, and Jinyoung can feel his heart drop. When Jaebeom shifted, Jinyoung kept his eyes trained forward until he felt Jaebeom’s breath on his jawline. The younger turned; confused, when Jaebeom leaned forward, pressing his lips against Jinyoung’s.

“Jaebeom hyung?” When their lips part, Jinyoung asks the only question on his mind.

“We’re both idiots, huh?” Jaebeom snorted, and even with the tears running down his face and the wet noise, Jinyoung had never seen someone more beautiful. “I love you too.”

Jinyoung’s mouth dropped open, and Jaebeom laughed again. “Hyung, please don’t joke around like that,” Jinyoung pleaded, but Jaebeom shook his head.

“No, Jinyoungie. I promise. I’m not. I know it may not have seemed that way, but I promise I do. I do. I love you.” Jinyoung cried again.

He’s never cried so much over the span of ten days, much less a year. But somehow, this seemed worth it.

[anotherhamiltonblog]

Foreign Touch ch 5

Chapter Summary: No summary sorry. I LOVE YOU ALL.

Warnings: Some fluff... then pure angst. I’M SORRY but not really.. BUT I’M SORRY. Character Death. our boys cry. (i cried) UH POV jump. me being a horrible person. oh and can’t forget, cursing as well. 

Word Count: 3k (holy cow.)

Masterlist(:

AN: So i’m posting this now because. 1, i love every single one of you who read this fic and actually enjoy it. and 2, to celebrate the fact I have over 160 followers. Like what? ILYSM THANK YOU. you are all so beautiful and I write for every single one of you.

Previously

Enjoy...

September turned to October, October to November and soon enough it was December.

Things for Y/N couldn’t have been better, sure there was the tension between Alexander and her, seeing as her soulmate was the one person Alex has claimed to be his mortal enemy. Not that he made any comment when Thomas was around, especially around their parents.

It had become a normal accordance for Thomas to have dinner with the Hamilton’s, just like Y/N would have Sunday lunch with the Jefferson’s. Things were going amazingly between the two.

Her group of friends were all happy, Lafayette had found his girl, Adrienne. Or Adri as everyone calls her who was in the Drama club and even Hercules found his soulmate who was from another school but the two met at a Halloween party.

Halloween Y/N had managed to get Thomas to dress up as Aladdin and she went as Jasmine. The two being what john kept muttering as ‘couple goals’ since Alexander went with a nametag with the words “Hello, my name is ‘The person who hates Halloween costumes’ “John, having been the one to write it out since he was annoyed with Alexander.

In the end the night was amazing, ending with a bonfire with the friends all sitting around and relaxing in couples. Even James Maddison came with his girlfriend of one year.

By November, Y/N would wear Thomas’ hoodies and beanies. Claiming that they were a lot warmer than all her jackets and sweatshirts. Not that Thomas was complaining. He was happy to have his girl wear his clothes.

Thanksgiving came and went, Thomas spending the day with Y/N and her family before they went over to his house to spend the evening with his own family. The two thankfully always able to split the time between families. Especially since it was the holiday and they wanted to make sure that it was split equally.

By December, Christmas around the corner. Y/N almost cried at the start of Winter Break. Swamped with homework, college applications were thankfully all sent along with the videos of her Dancing then her playing the violin to the Art Schools, starting with Julliard. Y/N didn’t play for the school, not many even knew she played since it was something she picked up and it just stuck. So, the girl would just play in the basement of her home.

Life was perfect, at least for Y/N. She was happy and things felt like they were finally falling into place.

Date nights were her favorite, the picnics, movies then pizza, the small dinners after games. The two never went to parties, never needed to. They were happy with each other and the company of James or Lafayette every now and again with their girls for double dates.

Groaning, Y/N watched as Lafayette and Thomas were speaking in French. Glancing over at Adrienne, Y/N raised her eyebrow.

“Can you believe these assholes…” she whispered to the gorgeous Brunette who giggled and nodded.

“I say we get their attention…” she winked, and the two girls got up from the table. Not that their boyfriends noticed.

Walking over to the bar, pulling out their fake IDs, the girls managed to flirt their way to getting another cocktail and soon enough two guys came up to them to flirt.

It didn’t take long for Lafayette or Thomas to notice their girls at the bar talking to two strange men. They almost ran over, wrapping an arm around their girl and glared at the men until they backed off.

“Immigrants… we get the job done.” The two said at the same time and fist-bumping. Causing Y/N to give Thomas a ‘what the fuck are you ON?’ look.

“Thomas… you’re AMERICAN.” She laughed before looking at Adrienne who was also giggling.

The two sipped on their drinks. “Maybe next time, you’ll remember we’re at the table as well.” Adrienne teased, even though the two of them knew a bit of French. It still wasn’t enough to follow what those two were talking about.

It was a wonderful night afterwards.

Now with Christmas just a week away, Y/N was out with her parents. The three going to the post office to send the presents to the grandparents. The three laughing and singing Christmas songs, just having a good time. Alexander stayed behind to wrap up the last of his presents, though Y/N knew that John would be over five minutes after they leave the house.

Pulling out her phone from her jacket pocket, Y/N decided to message Thomas to pass the time, only to frown when seeing the battery on low. “shit….” She whispered.

“What was that sweetie?” her mom called from the front, turning her head to look at her daughter.

Catching her dads eye in the rearview mirror, the smirk he sent her way. Y/N knew he heard her and shit bit down on her lip. “Nothing mama…” she shook her head and went back to messaging her boyfriend.

When her phone warned her that there was only two percent left, she said bye to Thomas and turned off the phone screen. Listening to her mom talk about the surgery she did the other night and the teenagers parents in the waiting room.

As her dad went to continue driving, the red light turning green before the car came to a complete stop. Y/N’s head whipped to look out her window at the sound of a loud car honk and she gasped. The headlights of the car shining brightly in her eyes. But she couldn’t do anything, a truck that was making a right turn collided with their car and sending the car skidding and crashing into a bus.

Y/N head hit the window and she passed out right afterwards, screaming being the last thing she heard.

»»-————　♡　————-««

Alexanders POV:

Sitting around the living room with John, the two watching the Harry Potter marathon on the ABC Holiday Special. They were wrapped up together in the blanket just enjoying the others company without any distractions. It wasn’t till Alexander’s phone rang did he groan and pick it up, seeing it was his grandma.

“Hey, MeMa… everything ok?” he asked the women, sitting up concerned since he could tell his grandma was crying and put the phone on speaker.

“Alex, Corazon. The hospital called me. Your parents and Y/N have been in an accident.” She said in a broken voice. “You need to get there as soon as possible. Pops and I are booking a ticket and are flying out there soon.”

Alexander could barely hear what his grandma was even saying anymore, John who sat up quickly, sent out a text to the group chat and picked up Alexander’s phone, talking to his grandma. Assuring her they would be at the hospital and that they would call them with any news.

John’s POV:

After hanging up, John noticed that Alexander was still in shock, so he rushed to grab their shoes, jackets and hats. The snow started to fall again.

“Come on babe… we need to go.” He said to Alex and coaxed him into putting his shoes on and jacket after getting himself ready first.

Picking up his keys, the two made it out to the car and John started to drive to the hospital.

“I know this isn’t something you want to hear… but you need to message Thomas.” John told his boyfriend, those words causing Alex to snap out of it.

“Why the FUCK would I do that? I need to focus on the fact that my SISTER and my PARENTS are in the hospital!” He almost yelled and John just remained calm.

Taking a deep breath as he stopped at a red light. John turned to look at Alex. “He’s her soulmate babe… he needs to know. I know you don’t like him, that’s fine. But he loves your sister. He deserves to know and to be there.”

Seeing that the words were sinking into Alexanders brain, John turned his head forward again and drove a few seconds after the light turned green.

Upon arriving at the hospital, John held Alexanders hand the whole time and watched as the man messaged Thomas. Rolling his eyes with a sad smile at the contact name. ‘Jeffershit’

Once the messages were sent and they were told where to go, being told to wait for a doctor to come out to speak with them. John held Alex in his arms as they waited.

Thomas’ POV:

Forty-five minutes, that’s how long he had been waiting for Y/N to message him to go do the neighborhood tour of the house lights. He knew she was serious about it; he just didn’t know why it was taking so long to call him. Not that he was worried, Thomas was sure that Y/N was probably eating out with her parents or something.

Though he couldn’t help but feel a weird ache in his chest, but shrugging it off, he grinned at the small ‘ping’ coming from his phone. Indicating he had a message.

“Fucking finally babyg...” but he stopped muttering to himself when he saw it was Alexander. Seeing the messages, Thomas felt like all the air from his lungs left and he couldn’t breathe.

Jumping up from his bed and rushing to pull his sneakers, coat, gloves and hat. Thomas rushed from his room.

“Son, where’s the fire?” his dad chuckled from the living room, seeing his son in a hurry. But the laughter died when he saw Thomas close to tears. “Thomas? What happened?”

“I… I don’t know. She was just talking to me… now she’s in the hospital.” He said and looked from his mom to his dad and the two quickly got ready as well. Knowing that Alexander would be alone in the hospital waiting room.

“Give us a few minutes, we’ll go with you.” His mom said softly and pressed a kiss to his head and went to put on proper clothes.

Soon the Jefferson’s left their house and made it to the hospital in under 20 minutes due to the roads being fairly empty.

Once at the hospital, Thomas already knowing where to go thanks to John Laurens who messaged him where they were. They arrived and saw the waiting room already filled.

Lafayette with Adrienne and his uncle and aunt. George and Martha Washington. Hercules with his girl Meg, Alexander with John and when they saw Thomas, Lafayette was the first one to reach the boy. Who hadn’t been able to cry properly. His mind racing with what could have happened.

After an hour, a doctor appeared. Everyone waiting holding a cup of coffee thanks to Peter and Jane Jefferson who bought it for all the teenagers.

Alexander was the first one to jump up with John. Thomas wanted to go over and see. But he overheard that they were talking about Alexanders parents. An ache in his chest hearing the words ‘We did everything we could… I’m sorry son.’

“I’m not your… What about… Y/N? How is she?”

At that question, Thomas sat up and watched the doctor.

“She’s still in surgery. As soon as I know more. I’ll come talk to you all.” With that, doctor paid his apologies once more and left. His pager going off and he rushed.

That’s when Thomas felt it, the ache on his neck. Grabbing his phone and using the camera, he gasped. Catching everyone’s attention.

That’s when they all saw it. The mark on his neck, a small almost dainty handprint. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

“What? Did she… did she die for a minute there? Is that what happened?” he asked standing up now panicking. Breaths were uneven and Thomas felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He couldn’t stand still. He couldn’t cry. He could only worry about the women he loves.

“I- I can’t lose her. I need her… fuck. She could have done so much better than me. Yet I was blessed to have her as my soulmate… I can’t fucking lose her.” He said and hung his head, squeezing his eyes shut. His shoulders starting to shake and that’s when arms wrapped around him.

Realizing it was Alexander, the two men hugged and cried as they waited news on the girl who was hanging on to her life.

After another hour, another doctor came back over to them. “Any relatives of a Y/N Hamilton?” she asked and looked over everyone. A. Schuyler written on the white coat and Both Alex and Thomas stood up.

She raised an eye at Thomas, only to nod when Alexander explained that the man was Y/N’s soulmate.

“So, I’m guessing you felt that she flatlined. I’m sorry about that.” And with that Thomas went to listen about what was wrong with his girl. “She hit her head against the car window pretty badly, she has stiches on the side of her head, that area is shaved. Her neck is in a brace, nothing broken. Simply cause she suffered whiplash and the brace Is to prevent her from moving her neck and letting it heal.” She sighed. “Her leg, that was broken pretty badly. Practically crushed from being stuck. We were able to put the bone back in place and there are some screws... She’s gonna need treatment once the cast comes off. To help her use her leg again. I hope she wasn’t a dancer. Because, it’s likely she won’t be able to put too much force on it.

“Now… the reason she flatlined was because of a broken rib that caused her to have some trouble breathing. But we got her back and she’s being transferred to the ICU now.” With a sigh, she looked between the two. “Once there, visitors will only be one at a time. Then everyone goes home and returns tomorrow. We can’t have anyone here. We need to keep a close eye on her to make absolute sure we didn’t miss anything.” With that, the doctor informed them she’ll come get them when Y/N was in her room.

Thomas felt like he was going to pass out. How could this even happen? Now Y/N and Alexander were orphans. God, how were they going to tell Y/N about her parents when she wakes up?

Walking away from everyone quickly, Thomas went outside and leaned against the brick wall of the hospital.

With eyes closed, he tried to control his breathing. Which Thomas found to be very difficult to do.

“Thomas?” a soft voice came from beside him and he turned to see John there. “Deep breaths… we don’t want to put you in a room from passing out before seeing Y/N now do we?” the freckled face man smiled sadly.

“How could this happen?” Thomas asked quietly. Almost not hearing his own voice. “We were talking about… about seeing those stupid Christmas lights in the neighborhoods ya’know?” he scoffed. “I wanted to say no, cause we’ve seen them three times before. But I could never say no to her. What Y/N wants; she gets.” He looked down at his hands. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he showed John the small silver ring with a double hearts.

“Was gonna give this to her, promise ring that once we finish college, that we’ll get married and have the perfect life together.” He sniffled. “Now she can’t dance anymore… she’s going to be so broken.”

John looked at the ring in shock. Only to frown and pat Thomas’ shoulder. “If she’s broken, you need to be her rock. She’s gonna need you more than ever now Thomas. She’s gonna mess a LOT of school, physical therapy, no more cheerleading. No more tutoring…” sighing, John frowned. “She… they lost their parents. You gotta be strong, but don’t shut down on your emotions. Ok?” he said and looked over to the door.

Thomas also looking up at someone clearing their throat. “We can go to her room now.” Hercules said to the two and the three men made their way back inside and everyone quietly walked down the corridors to the area where Y/N was laying in the bed in a coma induced sleep. Just so she could recover a little easier.

One by one, Thomas lets the boys go first. It was only right, they knew Y/N for years. He could wait to see her a little.

By the time it was his turn, Alexander stopped him. “There’s… lots of machines. Beeping, tubes attached to her… Her leg… I covered it up with a blanket.” His voice broke and Thomas nodded. “Just thought I’d warn you.”

With that, Thomas walked into Y/N hospital room and he felt like the floor disappeared from beneath him. Seeing Y/N in the bed attached to machines, hell. Alexander tried to warn him and still it was like he was punched in the gut.

Walking over to a chair, he sat down and softly grabbed onto her hand. Behind careful with the needle taped to the back of her hand. Small cuts covered her body, the stiches and small part of the side of her head that was shaved. Her left leg was held up but covered like Alexander promised. The hand without the needle was wrapped in a bandage.

Thomas felt like his throat closed up and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I can’t lose you sweetheart… I’ll be with you with each step of the way. Ok? No matter what. I’m with you. I love you babygirl.”

Kissing her forehead, Thomas left the room after the nurse informed him his time was up. With a promise to visit Y/N every day. Thomas left, giving the guys a ‘bro hug’ they all parted ways.

Alexander going home with John so he wouldn’t be alone, at least until his grandparents arrived to help with funeral arrangements. Parting ways, everyone left the hospital with heavy hearts.

                                                                                                    Next Chapter

*goes into hiding, shouts from under the bed* please tell me if there are any mistakes! This was a rollercoaster to write. omg.

Don’t forget to Like, Reblog and send Feedback! My asks are also opened and so is my IM! 

Much love from me to you!!  ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

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[exhaustedfander]

moxiety with fake dating? mayhaps with some gay panicking because ahhh cute stranger hold hngg hand??

I was having such stupid technical difficulties ith Word, but here it is, sorry it’s been like three weeks, lol. I’d love to hear what you think! 

a03 link

word count: 3,008

Fake it Till You Make it 

Virgil’s always careful whilst staking out a seat in the coffee shop he frequents. He makes sure not to sit in an area that’s too crowded, as to bypass unnecessary human-contact, while simultaneously avoiding the table too close to the door that lets a draft in. He’s been coming here a long time now, as it’s the closest place to his College, as well as the fact that the coffee is reasonably priced, and the atmosphere is pretty damn cozy. Also… there’s a barista that happens to be the cutest man Virgil’s ever laid his eyes on, but that’s beside the point! 

By now, all of the staff know his order – a cinnamon Cappuccino with enough whipped cream to drown in – like the back of their hands, so he has to worry about social interaction a lot less than usual. The adorable barista in question, Patton, has only ever taken his order, sweet as can be while doing so, but Virgil’s never really talked to the guy. Not that he plans on it! That is waaay too nerve-racking to so much as think about, thank you very much. Sure, he can get lost in those ocean-blue eyes and often fantasizes about running his hand through those strawberry-blonde curls but talking to him is strictly out of the question. He likes this coffee spot and would really hate to have to find a new shop all because he’s made a fool of himself. 

So, it’s not hard to imagine Virgil’s utter shock when he finds that very same barista standing beside him, a dazzling smile on his face.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, in reference to the chair beside him, and Virgil’s fairly sure he forgets how to breathe for a moment. 

“Uh – no,” he manages to stutter, “It’s all yours, man.” The barista grins, sitting beside him. 

“Thanks… Virgil, right?” Virgil blinks surprised he’d remember something as inconsequence as his name. 

“Yeah,” Virgil says, “My, uh, friends call me Virge. You can, too, if you wanted to.” Virgil despises the way his voice is trembling; why is he so fucking nervous? It’s just basic, human, social interaction (with the most beautiful man to grace this Earth, but basic, human social interaction nonetheless)

“Sure, thing, Virge. I’m Patton,” he says, as though Virgil hadn’t memorized the name on his nametag the moment, he saw him. “I like your pin, by the way.” 

Virgil glances down at the Bisexual pin on his backpack, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. It’s not like he’s missed the rainbow shirt he’s seen peeking out from behind Patton’s apron sometimes – an apron he doesn’t currently have on, meaning he’s off the clock, also meaning instead of going home, he’s sitting here, talking to him. So, yeah, Patton’s probably gay, and he’s talking to him, but that doesn’t actually mean anything. It doesn’t stop Virgil from panicking quite a bit, though. 

“Thanks,” Virgil says, trying his absolute hardest to keep his cool. He’s wanted to talk to Patton for so long, but he hadn’t imagined it would ever actually happen. 

“You come here a lot, huh?” Patton asks. Virgil rubs at the back of his neck, struggling to maintain eye-contact. 

“Uh- yeah. This is a cool place, and it’s not too far from my school.” Virgil fails to mention the fact that Patton’s a big reason he comes in nearly daily, thinking such a detail might come off as super creepy.

As awkward as Virgil is, a conversation is struck up. He learns that Patton is a student at his college, too (How the fuck did he manage to miss a face like that??) and that he’s studying to be a Veterinarian, which Virgil finds a little funny, considering he’s terribly allergic to cats. Patton’s a big fan of dad-jokes and puns, and while he can try and groan, it just manages to make Patton all the more adorable. He also discovers that yes, Patton is gay and that he first came about a year ago. 

“Yeah, my parents weren’t too thrilled,” Patton says in a voice that’s desperately trying to stay chipper, but the sorrow creeps in all the same, “They still aren’t.” 

“Mine either,” Virgil says before he really knows what he’s saying, “I haven’t, uh, talked to them in a long time. I might never again, honestly.” A look of sympathy crosses Patton’s face, though it’s clear that he relates, maybe more than he wants to admit to himself. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Virge.” 

Virgil shrugs. It’s nothing new. He came out to his parents at seventeen, a choice that was quite the feat considering the level of anxiety he suffers from, and it hadn’t gone well at all. His folks hadn’t kicked him out, but they’d insisted that he was never to take a boy home. At first, Virgil had tried to get on their good side, they were his parents, after all. But it didn’t take long for him to realize what a fruitless venture that was. They weren’t going to change, regardless of how much he wanted them to. 

Once he got to college, he had an opportunity to meet a few really great people, despite his social-anxiety, individuals who had shown him how important it is to have positive relationships in life. At this point, it could undo a few years of positive change to let his parents back into his life, and Virgil wasn’t about to go and do a thing like that.

“It’s alright,” he says, “They’re assholes, anyway. I got some pretty cool relatives though, and some really good friends, so that helps.” Patton frowns, and suddenly Virgil decides he despises the sad expression on him, wondering what the hell he could do to make it go away.

“My parents are assholes too,” Patton murmurs, as though saying such a word is incomprehensively bad, and as if Virgil hadn’t said it too about three seconds ago. “They really are. I’ve been trying. Trying so hard to be patient with them and allow them time to adjust but… it just isn’t happening. They’re still talking about when I end up with “some lucky lady.” I don’t know…” Patton pauses, his eyes widening, “Oh my goodness, I’m sorry.” Virgil tilts his head. 

“What for?”

“For dumping all that on you. I mean, we hardly know each other. It was rude of me.” 

“Nah, man, you’re good. I was just talking about my parents, there’s no reason to apologize. And I should know, I’m kind of the king of apologizing for shit I didn’t do.” Patton cracks a small smile at that, and Virgil swells with a pit too much pride. “My point is, you didn’t overshare, or anything. We’re just having a conversation, you’re good, I promise.” Patton looks relieved. 

“Thanks, Virgil. You’re really nice.” Virgil’s heart can’t help but soar a little bit at that. Sometimes, he’s convinced he’s a massive asshole, despite his friends insisting that it isn’t. but it’s really nice to know that Patton thinks he’s nice.

“No prob, Pat. You’re nice too.”

“Well then, I’m glad we were able to break the nice,” Patton says, earning a half-hearted groan. “I’ve kinda wanted to talk to you for a while, actually.” Virgil’s heart skips a beat. 

“R-really? Why?”

“Because,” Patton says with a smile, “You always seemed so interesting. Mentioning your Pin was, uh, kind of just an excuse to talk to you,” Patton admits and, holy shit, is he flirting?! Virgil can’t tell, but sirens are going off in his head regardless. 

“I – uh,” Virgil bites his tongue, trying to come up with a dignified response of some kind, but failing to do so. “Thanks?” Despite Virgil’s criminal lack of tact, Patton just smiles, a look that quickly disappears when he gets a notification and checks his phone.

“What’s up?” Virgil asks, before realizing it’s hardly his business. He’s known Patton for what? An hour or so now – oh my god, Patton’s been talking to him for over an hour – and that doesn’t give Virgil the authority to inquire upon the barista’s personal life beyond what he’s already been told. Patton shakes his head.

“My cousin Dalilah getting married next week,” Patton explains, despite Virgil’s hesitation, “She’s one of the only family members who I’m really close to; she’s such a sweetheart.”

“Then what’s wrong?” 

“My mom and dad are going to be at the wedding,” Patton sighs, “And I don’t have a date. If I show up without some guy on my arm, I know they’re just gonna assume that the crisis is over, and they can set me up with the next available girl. They already think me being gay is a phase, this is all the reason they need to think the phase is over.” A sad look flickers in Patton’s eyes and instantly, all logic or uncertainty that Virgil’s clinging to goes out the window.

“What if I was your date?” Patton’s eyes go as wide as saucers and, oh shit, he really just said that aloud.

“W-what?”

“L-like a fake date,” Virgil backpedals, his heart rate spiking in a matter of seconds, “So t-that your parents aren’t dicks to you. Or at least, are less of dicks.” 

For a moment, Virgil almost dares to think that the explanation made Patton look kinda… disappointed? Not that it would make much sense, it’s not like he’d actually want Virgil to be his date. 

“Virgil you… you can’t be serious.”

“Well, why not?” Virgil asks, knowing he’s most probably going to regret this later, “You’re a cool guy who’s in a shitty situation. Your parents are going to be relentless to you, and I don’t like the idea of that, so… why don’t I make things a little easier for you?” Virgil says, impressed he gets through it without feeling as anxious as he had a few moments ago. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Patton mumbles guiltily, his eyes cast on the table, “I wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your weekend just for me.” 

“Pat, I was just gonna aimlessly scroll through Tumblr till two in the morning and watch shitty TV. And– erm– being your fake date sounds a lot more interesting to me.” (Not to mention nerve-racking!) Patton meets Virgil’s gaze once more, relief etched into his features.

“You’d really be willing to do this?” Patton asks, “You don’t need to, you know.”

“I want to,” Virgil assures. “So, what do you say?” Patton thinks for a moment before that beautiful smile spreads across his face anew.

“That sounds perfect! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Patton says, standing up from his chair and throwing his arms around the emo, “You’re a lifesaver, Virgil!” Virgil stiffens in the awkward embrace, before accepting it to the best of his ability, trying not to freak out because Patton fucking Hart is hugging him! 

“Sure thing, Pat.” 

After that, arrangements are made. As it turns out, Patton isn’t the biggest fan of lying, hates it, honestly, which makes things a little trickier. But a compromise is come to that they met each other in the Coffee shop, which was true and had been on a few dates prior to the wedding. While that wasn’t technically true (God does Virgil wish it was) they do spend several days throughout the week hanging out and getting to know one another. And within those few days, Virgil’s infatuation with Patton inflames to a full-on crush which is just great.

Getting better acquainted with him, Virgil finds himself quickly getting used to Patton’s bubbly personality. He’s eager to pet every dog he comes into contact with, he enjoys baking quite a bit, though he’s not great at it, he’s adorably awkward in the best ways and he’s one of the kindest, most genuine people Virgil’s ever met. 

Usually, Virgil’s so well-guarded, but with Patton, he’s opening up quicker and more willingly than he has in such a long time. Patton listens with such compassion, and while Virgil’s really happy to have the other friends that he does, he’s never met someone as sweet as Patton is. It’s almost a little overwhelming at times, how caring he is. 

Before they know it, the day is upon them. Virgil gets a rental suite while trying not to swoon at Patton in his sky-blue tux, because really, how is it legal for him to look that cute?

Patton grabs his hand the moment they walk into the venue, sending Virgil a careful glance and squeezing his hand just slightly.

“This okay?” He whispers, ever the compassionate one, and Virgil nods.

“Yeah, ‘s okay.” Virgil can’t recall the last time someone held his hand, and he certainly can’t remember the number of times he’s imagined Patton holding his hand, prior to them even being friends. 

They take their seats, and the ceremony proceeds as usual. It’s beautiful, not that Virgil is paying too much attention, distracted by Patton’s nervous glances toward an older couple that must be his folks.

“Hey, are you alright?” Virgil asks quietly. Patton forces a smile, his eyes trained on his cousin and her fiancé.

“Yeah, I’m – I’m fine,” – he doesn’t sound fine –, “It’s just…” Patton trails off, his gaze flickering back to his parents for a moment. Virgil places his hand over Patton’s, who’s trembling is noticeable immediately. Carefully, Virgil runs his thumb over Patton’s knuckles in an even, circular motion. Luckily, it seems to calm Patton down to a degree, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of Dalilah for the rest of the ceremony. 

However, almost immediately upon the afterparty starting, they’re cornered by Mr. and Mrs. Hart.

“Patton, you didn’t come and say hello,” his mother scolds. 

“Well, there were a lot of people,” Patton says nervously, “I figured we’d –.”

“Who’s this?” Patton’s father interrupts, gesturing to Virgil standing beside him.

“Virgil Storme,” Virgil says as calmly as he’s able, extending a hand for the father to shake. Mr. Hart’s hand remains rigid at his side. “I’m Patton’s boyfriend. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Virgil can’t help but notice as anxiety wells up inside of him because, fuck, they’d never said they were going to call each other boyfriend’s, just that they’d been on a few dates, but Mr. Hart had such a smug look and he couldn’t help it. Despite his raging internal monologue, Patton plants a hand onto the small of his back, lips curling into a smile.

“That’s right,” Patton says, “Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend.” 

The look of slackened shock on their faces would be priceless, weren’t it for the fact that these are still Patton’s parents, individuals who’ve had a direct influence on him throughout the entirety of his life.

“You’ve never – you’ve never mentioned a boyfriend before,” Patton’s mother says, glaring at her son. 

“And certainly not one who looks like some kind of a hooligan,” Mr. Hart grits, gesturing to Virgil’s dyed purple hair and pierced ears. Virgil intends to let the insult go, as it would only cause more trouble to confront it, but Patton has other ideas.

“Hey, you have no right to talk like that about Virgil,” Patton says, an edge to his voice that Virgil had yet to hear until now. Virgil grips for Patton’s hand, lacing their fingers together and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“How long has this been going on, sweetie?” Mrs. Hart chimes in, though it’s unclear if she’s referring to Virgil himself, or Patton’s sexuality as a whole. Either way, it’s a poor choice of words.

“My whole life, mom,” Patton spits, a venomous tone that would surely be louder if they weren’t at a wedding, “I’ve been gay my whole life, and nothing is going to change that.”

“But –.”

“But, nothing,” Patton interrupts boldly, “I’m not having this conversation, not again. If you can’t accept the fact that I’m never going to end up with ‘some nice girl,’ and that Virgil is absolutely wonderful, then we haven’t got anything to talk about.”

The words are a slap across Mr. and Mrs. Hart's face, who reel back in shock. 

“Patton, son –.”

“Goodbye,” Patton says, realizing it might very well be the last time he says it. He begins walking out of the reception and Virgil follows close behind. They make it outside, and luckily there’s no one else around.

“Pat… are you okay?” Virgil asks, reaching out to touch Patton’s shoulder.

“I’m done, Virgil. I’m done being gentle for them, I’m done pretending. It’s not worth it.” Pride wells in Virgil, even though he’s known Patton a little less than a week. 

“Well, then, I can tell you that was amazing! You kicked ass, Patton! Did you see the stupid look on their faces? They were so –.” Virgil is quickly interrupted when Patton’s lips collide against his, fingers gripping his lapels. Virgil needs a second to adjust and realize this is actually happening before he kisses back just as fervidly, his hands threading in Patton’s curls that are soft to the touch, just as he’d always imagined. 

“We’re – we’re not still pretending, right?” Virgil asks dumbly, and Patton shakes his head with a laugh, light, and airy.

“No, no of course not. Unless… you want it to be pretend?” 

“No! God, n-no! You’re amazing, Pat, you’re so kind, and soft and good and cute and… oh god, I’m rambling.” Patton giggles again, and Virgil decides it’s one of the best sounds he’s had the pleasure of hearing. 

“It’s cute.” 

“You’re cuter.”

“No, you are.”

The never-ending debacle of who is cuter is decidedly ended when their lips meet again, and Virgil’s positive this outweighs anything fantasy had to offer.

In the end, Patton hasn’t told a lie. Virgil is his boyfriend, even if they didn’t start the day out that way. The two walk back into the venue, hand-in-hand, watching as the Hart’s avert their eyes and Patton happily introduces Virgil to the family and friends who matter. 

Virgil’s never been so glad he walked into that coffee shop.

=+=

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[artificialqueens]

A Vampire in Paris: Part One (Gigi x Crystal) - Chae

A/N: aaaa it’s here, part one! i was NOT expecting it to be 3.4k words but i’m so so so proud of the dialogue in this chapter. if you can handle a bit of exposition to get to the crygi fluff i swear it’s worth it XD

Summary: Gigi Goode arrives in Paris to start preparing for Fashion Week, but what dark secret is her company hiding? What’s the deal with those three supermodels? And why is Crystal Methyd so damn adorable? 

We Begin

This couldn’t be happening. It felt wholly, totally, surreally unreal. Every dream Gigi Goode had ever dreamt seemed to be coming true at that very moment. The twenty-two year old had gone through immigration and baggage claim without really feeling much. When she met the Uber that was ordered to take her to the complex, she hadn’t felt much either. But now, as she drove through the streets of Paris, taking in the narrow paths and low buildings that completely contrasted the Los Angeles she was used to, she felt like she had arrived.

Crystal Methyd wasn’t exactly well-known, but she didn’t fly under the radar either. Anyone who spent more than two minutes researching modern fashion knew about her. She’d risen to popularity online through her wacky and interpretive, yet still fashionable, street style. Then, arguably the largest label in the world, ‘Fatelle,’ bought her company (as they did with about 90% of the fashion industry) and moved her to Paris. In a few weeks would be ‘The Methyd’s’ first showing for Paris Fashion Week, aka her ticket to worldwide fame and success, and Crystal had asked Gigi to model for her. She didn’t even know Crystal was allowed to choose her own models in the first place.

Gigi was used to having some spotlight. She’d amassed quite the following on Instagram and YouTube, which was how she got signed to her agency and apparently how Crystal had found her as well. Gigi was still dumbfounded by her luck, or talent, or universal power or whatever had gotten her to Paris to model for fashion week. She still couldn’t wrap her head around that fact when the car stopped in front of a huge building. It wasn’t modern or tall like businesses back home, but it took up an entire Parisian-sized block and stood a story or two higher than the average building. 

Gigi gripped her luggage, two roller-bag cases, a duffel bag, a small backpack, and a purse, and breathed out. She wanted to look confident and put-together when she met… whoever she was going to meet. Would it be Crystal? She’d been contacted by someone named ‘Trixie,’ so probably not, but one could hope. Gigi stepped forward, entering through the gigantic gold spinning door and coughing a bit as the scent of floral cleaning product wafted up her nose.

The lobby was pristine—spotless, sparkling, even, marble floors and marble walls and marble ceilings galore. The architecture was retro, yet the furniture seemed almost futuristic. Glass display cases flaunted the designers’ best works, particularly the original creator, Miss Fame’s, designs. She felt like every single person who would work here attended at least three fashion shows a week. The young model took a moment to admire her surroundings before her heels clicked all the way to the reception desk.

There, she was met with a strikingly familiar face, with a name tag to match.

“Excuse me—wait, are you-”

“Shhhh!” the woman seemed to perk up immediately at the prospect of being recognized, looking at Gigi frantically. “I’m nobody! I’m the receptionist.” She held a finger up to her lips.

“But your name tag, it even says-”

“My nametag doesn’t say shit!”

Gigi was a little surprised at how casual the other woman spoke to her, but blinked and continued.

“You aren’t even trying to hide it?”

“Well, not everybody is as smart as you and remembers photoshoots from forty years ago!”

“This is a fashion label’s headquarters!”

The woman paused, not knowing how to respond. “Okay, touché. Ya got me.”

“May I ask a question?”

“I mean… yeah?”

“How do you look the exact same as you did in the eighties?” Gigi was raising an eyebrow at Adore Delano, a female rock icon known for her raunchy photoshoots and close relationship to the Fatelle brand. Her hair and makeup changed, her clothes were different, too, of course, but she looked the same otherwise. What kind of ooky kooky hyaluronic acid was keeping a 60 year old woman looking 20?!

“Ask, and you will not receive,” Adore sighed, playing with her hair. “There are just some things you’d be safer… not knowing,” she smiled decidedly, pleased with her answer.

“Right,” Gigi grimaced, avoiding eye contact with the star.

“Anyway girl, what’s the sitch? What can I help you with?”

“Ah, yes of course, I’m here to meet.. well, someone. I’m a new model and I’m supposed to be staying here for a while.”

“Ohhh, you’re one of the international shipments coming in for fashion week. Which designer?”

“The Methyd.”

“Shut up!” Adore grinned, a twinkle in her eye. “Babe, you’re set for life. You better make a good impression on Crystal, she’s supposed to be the new thing and stuff!”

Gigi blushed. “Will I meet her today?” 

“Mmm,” Adore checked a computer screen, clicking a few buttons and squinting. “You’re supposed to meet with Trixie, so you’ll have to ask her.” She grabbed something from under her desk. “Gigi Goode, right?”

“That’s me. Good morning!”

“Party!” The older girl grinned, handing Gigi a small card. “That’s your room key—don’t lose it. Unless you wanna like, get stolen from.”

Gigi took the key, placing it in her purse. “Thank you, and noted. Do not get robbed.”

Suddenly, another voice joined the pair as a tall woman strode into the lobby, conversing on the phone. She was wearing a pink blazer-mini skirt set and white patent pumps, the outfit hugging her curves perfectly. Her hair was big and blonde, straight with iron-curled ringlets at the tips, and her big lips and long lashes completed the Barbie aesthetic. Her voice, however, was stern and confident, the complete opposite of her doll-like appearance. If this was Trixie, Gigi was already intimidated.

“Well, Brenda, tell Katya that I’ll call her back later, please,” she commanded, a short answer coming from the other end before Trixie interrupted, scolding the person in French before hanging up. She looked to Gigi with a smile. “Sorry about that. You must be Gigi!” 

Gigi smiled and reached out to shake her hand, but forgot that air kisses were the customary French greeting. Nice going, idiot, Gigi thought to herself as she finished the proper hello. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Mattel!”

“Oh hun, you can call me Trixie,” she smiled. “Welcome to Fatelle! I’m your modeling manager, so we’ll be seeing each other a lot. You come to me with any questions, concerns, issues, you need a tampon, a condom, a chocolate, a shot, I’m your gal,” she winked. Gigi laughed.

“In that case, can I have a-”

“You are not about to ask me for a condom.”

“Well…”

The two burst out, Trixie’s laugh coming out more like a bird screech than a human chuckle. 

“Ah! Almost forgot,” Trixie reached into her pocket and grabbed a sticky note, handing it to Gigi. “That’s my number. I’ll text you important info, like meeting and fitting dates and such. We’ve only got three weeks to prepare for this, so the schedule is packed.”

Gigi folded the paper and put it with her room card, already nervous for what was to come. “Agh, well, I’m excited to start!”

“Of course!” Trixie smiled, glancing at her phone as it buzzed. “Shit, well, I gotta go.”

“Hold on, sorry, how do I get to my room?”

“Right! I’m stupid for not telling you.” Trixie pointed to where she’d come from. “Over there is the apartment complex area. Your key card will say which room it is, and the elevators are dead ahead. This place has a restaurant open to the public like a hotel does, but it’s free for models and employees and serves us privately during the day. There’s also kitchens in the rooms if you wanna cook for yourself,” she explained. “Later tonight our team should be getting together for a meeting, I’ll text you the details, kay?” Trixie almost mumbled the last part as she frantically punched the keyboard of her phone, obviously annoyed with the person she was texting. “Enjoy your stay!”

Before Gigi could even say bye, Trixie was gone. She understood for the most part, but she couldn’t help but notice Trixie hadn’t said anything about the portion of the building across from the apartments. The curiosity ate her up, so she opted to ask Adore.

“What’s over there?” Gigi motioned to the glass doors that led to the mystery area.

“That’s where all the businessy stuff happens,” Adore rested her head in her hand. “You’ll probably go there to do your model stuff. The further in you go, the crazier the shit is.”

“Crazy shit? What kind of crazy shit?”

Adore bit her lip, knowing she’d said too much. “Enjoy your stay, Miss Goode.”

Gigi raised an eyebrow. Something smelled rotten at the Fatelle headquarters, and the young woman was dying to learn more. She followed instructions to get to her room, a spacious and immaculately decorated space. Flopping on the bed, Gigi closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like to own such a large company. She’d never considered designing clothes, more than happy to stick to modeling. Speaking of which, she had a dinner to get ready for. She sat up, releasing her ginger waves from their ponytail with a shake of her head, exhaling a breath. After she unpacked, she was going to make herself look smoking hot. Crystal would not regret choosing her to be a model.

———

Gigi knocked on the glass doors leading to the private seating of the restaurant, trying to get Trixie’s attention. She’d worn her fanciest mini dress and most expensive Louboutins in hopes of impressing her team. The table was large, maybe ten or eleven girls crowding around it. And in the back, she spotted Crystal.

Or did Crystal spot her? Because they were making eye contact— holy shit they were making eye contact and Crystal was the prettiest girl ever what the fuck? Gigi gulped as someone else, a girl she didn’t recognize, let her in.

“Hey! Here to meet with The Methyd team?”

“Mhm,” Gigi nodded, air kissing the other woman. “Gigi Goode.”

“Oh, awesome! I’m Rock M Sakura, one of the makeup artists,” the shorter girl grinned at Gigi, her appearance reminding the model of a magical girl anime. “But you can just call me Rock.”

“Rock? What’s that short for?”

“Rock and Roll, baby,” she made a face and sat back down at the table, leaving Gigi to giggle and flick her eyes around to find an empty spot.

Of course the only one left was right next to Crystal.

And of course Crystal was smiling at her the entire time she walked to the seat.

“Hey, you’re Gigi right?” The designer asked, making the model blush at the fact that she knew her name. 

“Good morning, it’s an honor to meet you Ms. Methyd.”

“Ah jeez, just call me Crystal! We don’t use last names here,” Crystal motioned to the laughing girls around the dinner table. “It looks like everyone’s here actually, we can finally introduce ourselves!”

Gigi glanced at Trixie, who was sitting close by, her facial expression reading “is this girl always this sweet and peppy?” The manager caught her eye and shot her back a look that said “yes.” 

Crystal tapped a wine glass, garnering everyone’s attention. “Everyone, thank you all for coming to start this journey with me,” the designer started, a grin wide across her lips. “I know we’re all gonna make an amazing team, we just have to, uh, know each other’s names first?” Everyone chuckled lightly. Crystal looked towards Gigi with a sparkle in her eye. “Why don’t you start?”

Gigi took a breath, wanting to make sure her expression was stone-cold. “Nice to meet you all, I’m Gigi Goode, I just arrived from Los Angeles, I’ll be modeling.”

Crystal smiled, beckoning the rest to introduce themselves.

“My name is Jackie Cox, I came in from New York not too long ago, and I’m your backstage coordinator!”

“Bonsoir, I am Nicky Doll from Paris, obviously. I’ll be modeling as well.”

“Hey y’all, I’m Trixie Mattel, which you probably already knew, because I got you all here, because I’m your modeling manager.”

“The name is Jaida Essence Hall, and I’ve been modeling with Fatelle for some time now. I’m looking forward to working with Miss Methyd.”

“Hi, my name’s Rock M Sakura, just got here from San Francisco!  I’ll be your assistant makeup artist!”

“Raven. Lead makeup artist.” 

Now this chick seemed… off. She was extremely out of place amongst the rest of the girls in the group. She was just sitting there, glaring at the rest of the crew and almost… taking in information? Her face was sharp and beautiful, but her eyes pierced through Gigi’s soul as she, for some reason, stared her down. They moved on.

“I’m Plastique Tiara, I’ll also be a model. I can’t wait to start!”

“Hey there, I’m Brooke Lynn Hytes, if you’re Canadian, you know me. I’ll be helping get you guys outfits and hair stylists.”

“Ugh, great to meet y’all! I’m Jan Sport, I’m another model!”

There was only one girl left, thankfully, and only one more name to remember. “Hey, I’m Dahlia Sin. I’ll obviously be modeling.”

Crystal rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Yay! Now that we all know each other, hopefully the waiter’s coming sooooon!”

The table murmured in agreement, returning back to their previous conversations.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Gigi,” Jackie said from her left. Nicky peeked over her shoulder and nodded, flashing a gorgeous smile.

“The pleasure is all mine!” Gigi replied. “I can’t wait to try some authentic French cuisine,” she liked her lips.

“That’s right, you just got off the plane!” Crystal exclaimed. 

Gigi confirmed. “How long have you been staying here?”

“Oh gosh, not long, maybe a month or two. Most of this team has only been working at Fatelle for less than a year.”

“Except moi!” Nicky’s thick accent interjected, an eyebrow raised playfully. “And Raven. Jaida’s probably been here just over a year. But yeah, apart from us, even Trixie’s a baby.” 

Raven seemed to sense her name being spoken, but only tossed them a glance before returning to typing on her phone. Trixie was enthralled in some deep phone convo, the hard worker never seeming to catch a break.

“Oh, I just can’t wait to start! These designs have been in my head for years and they finally get to see the light of day on my amazing models!” Crystal gushed. The passion for her work seemed to be flowing out of each word she spoke, the radiant positivity infectious. 

“We’re so excited to see you succeed, Crys,” Jan quickly complimented before returning to an apparently intense debate with Brooke and Dahlia. 

Gigi noticed the waiter walk in through the glass door to take their drink orders, the model smiling at the thought of finally getting some real food in her. The only thing she’d been eating for the past 48 hours were shitty plane meals and junky snacks to try and make it through the thirteen hour joint flight. 

When the door was open, however, Gigi couldn’t help but notice three distant figures sauntering down the restaurant hall. They looked super important, super rich. They must have been supermodels, but she couldn’t tell from how far away she was.

Jackie caught her line of sight. “You know them, right?” She asked, an edge of malice in her tone.

“I couldn’t exactly see who they were, but I’m sure I’d know of them.”

“They’re some bad business,” Jackie grunted. 

“Really? Who are they?”

“Those are just some of the other models. Aquaria, Valentina, and Naomi Smalls,” Crystal explained, making Gigi’s eyes widen.

“No way! They’re insanely famous! Isn’t Aquaria supposed to take over the company or something?” Gigi raved.

“That’s up for debate,” Nicky rolled her eyes. “It sure looks like it, though.”

“If Mean Girls was real life, Aquaria is Regina, Naomi is Gretchen, and Valentina is Karen,” Jackie said. “And don’t you dare try to become Cady.”

Gigi laughed. “I won’t, I promise. I like you all too much.”

“Their people are another beast altogether,” Nicky spat. “One that we’ve been trying to conquer, but they’re just so full of themselves they can’t see past their own noses.”

“They’re working for Fatelle Official, so they’re doing something right,” Crystal tried to reason. 

“Well, I’m working for The Methyd, which is gonna be bigger than Fatelle. I can just feel it,” Gigi grinned. Crystal laughed airily, a tinge of red hitting her cheeks.

“Thanks, Gig!” 

Gigi couldn’t help but blush once again at the cute nickname Crystal has already begun to use. They all placed their drink orders, and Gigi managed to converse with Crystal without exploding. The older girl was dressed in a sparkly cocktail dress, with bright colored eyeshadow and thick eyeliner. Her hair was curly and mouse-brown, and it framed her face while flaring out in the back. Crystal was dastardly gorgeous, with twinkling eyes, a tiny nose, and lips ever-curved into a smile. Thank god it was normal to look at someone while they talked to you, because Gigi couldn’t stop looking at Crystal.

Gigi sipped the mixed drink that was brought to her at last, while Crystal looked at her with a playful smirk. 

“Have you ever thought about going blonde?”

“Ha! Maybe? Why?”

“One, you’d look good. Two, I’ve been wanting to go redhead but I don’t want to come for your brand!”

Gigi laughed heartily, wiping a bit of drink off her lip. “I’ll have to think about it!”

“If you do it, do it before the show!”

“And do it at a hairdresser,” a voice said at the other end of the table. It was quiet and barely audible over the chatter of the other women, but Gigi realized Raven had been listening to their conversation. She made eye contact with the older woman and grew hot, her gaze making Gigi anxious and want to look away. She nodded at Raven and turned back to Crystal, cringing.

“What’s her deal?”

“Raven’s?” Crystal bit her lip, not entirely comfortable with the makeup artist’s presence either. “The higher ups said she needed to work with us since everyone was new, and she is the best makeup artist in the city, really,” she shrugged. “I couldn’t say no.”

Gigi nodded in understanding. “She keeps looking at us.”

“I know,” Crystal chuckled. “But I mean, who wouldn’t want to look at you?”

The model turned bright red, rubbing the back of her neck. “Thank you, Crystal. It… means a lot coming from you.”

It was the designer’s turn to blush, and for a few moments the two sat in awkward silence before they were interrupted by the waiter taking their orders. Gigi hadn’t even looked at the menu— she was too busy talking, so she just ordered whatever Crystal got. 

Gigi knew, even from the short time she’d spent with her new friends, that she was in for a wild ride. And she knew something was up with Raven, Aquaria, Valentina, Naomi, and Adore, and she was going to get to the bottom of it before Fashion Week was over.

———

It was 11:58 PM when Raven opened the great wooden doors to the study, shutting them gently behind herself. She spotted Violet Chachki perched on the desk as usual, smoking a cigarette from a holder ring. Violet shot the makeup artist a look before clearing her throat.

“Darling, Raven’s here.”

In a movie-like scene, the huge velvet chair behind the oak desk spun around, revealing a disinterested Miss Fame. She too, was smoking a cigarette, but in a much less dramatic fashion than her assistant. 

“So?” She pressed.

“You definitely want that Gigi girl. And you want Methyd, too.”

“Right. And?”

“You’re in luck, because apparently they’re a package deal.”

Violet grinned, glancing to her lover who seemed to share the same sentiment. The designer and the model. The CEO and the burlesque dancer.

Fame looked back to Raven, stubbing out her cigarette with her own finger.

 “History repeats itself, it seems.”

[soobrat]

lost n’ found || Beomgyu

𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥, 𝕗𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗, 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥

t o  s k i p  s t r 8  t o  t h e  s m u t  l o c a t e  t h i s  d i v i d e r:

★ 𝔹𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕪 ★:

v long

handcuffs

mentions of injury/blood

toxic friends & boyfriend

cunnilingus

female!reader

this was a request I took way too long to deliver T_T

-

day one - heartbreak

For a new cop, seeing a girl walking alone at night with gashes in her arms was extremely off-putting. Beomgyu immediately pulled over next to you before rolling down the window.

"Do you need a ride?"

"Please." you reply, void of emotion.

You were really silent during the ride, the only noise in the car being the GPS sounding off directions. Beomgyu had to ask. You might still be in danger.

"Are you okay? Will you be safe once I drop you off?"

"Yeah, the only thing that's putting me in danger is myself."

Beomgyu gripped the steering wheel. Well at least you weren't being stalked by a murderer?

"What happened?"

"I really don't wanna talk about it." You shifted closer to the door, staring out the window. Beomgyu adjusted his mirror to keep an eye on you.

"Are you sure? It might feel better to get it off your chest-" He was interrupted by you thudding your head against the window and groaning.

"I'm sorry, I just- I really don't wanna think about it. It physically pains me."

That's when Beomgyu remembered. Your gashes. Looking at them now up close, they were worse than he thought.

"You need to go to the hospital."

"I really don't want to." He watched as you cringed, recalling the events.

Beomgyu sighed before making a very loud (and illegal) u-turn.

"H-hey! What the fuck-"

-

Beomgyu and the nurse waited in anticipation for the explanation for your gnarly injuries. Beomgyu should've left a long time ago, dropping you off was enough, but he was intrigued. In a weird, probably morbid way.

You shifted on the hospital bed uncomfortably.

"Well, I was out drinking with... friends..." you felt hesitant when referring to them in that way.

"...And I dropped my drink and shattered it. One thing led to another and I ended up slipping and falling onto the glass."

The nurse gasped, "Oh wow, I can still see some in your arm. You must be in a lot of pain! Did you hit your head at all?"

"No." You looked sullenly at the ground. Beomgyu noticed the smudged makeup and dried tears down your cheeks. You looked exhausted.

"I'll go get a doctor." The nurse scurried off, keen on easing your pain as quickly as possible. The weird thing was, you didn't look like the gashes in your arm were bothering you. Beomgyu sat in the chair next to your bed.

"Did your friends do something?" You were silent, still silently looking at the ground.

"You don't have to tell me, but I just thought maybe you'd wanna get something off your chest."

A tear rolled down your cheek as your lip quivered.

"If you need any help legally I could help you out-"

"No." You shook your head, wiping away the tear with your wrist.

"That's not necessary for this situation."

Your depressed state was starting to cause pain to him. You just looked so miserable.

"Sorry." Beomgyu whispered.

"For what?"

"Whatever they did to you. Your friends, I mean."

"And boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now." You laughed, void of any actual amusement.

"My best friend of 4 years was keeping me busy for some odd reason. I caught on to it and tried to leave and find my boyfriend, but she was stopping me. Once I broke free from her I saw my boyfriend of three years who she set me up with, making out with my best friend since middle school. Things got heated, I was so angry, angrier than I had ever been or ever thought I could be," The rage in your eyes was the most emotion Beomgyu has seen you have since he met you.

"Were they plotting against me? I don't even fucking know, but all I know is that I was tired of all the bullshit spilling from those assholes and I threw a glass. Now everyone was looking at me, and without context I felt the whole room turn against me. I went to run out and I slipped on the drink and onto the glass. The whole room gasped, then a couple people laughed." Your eyes were flickering around, feeling them burn as more tears threatened to spill.

"That was the smallest I had ever felt in my life."

"Fuck those people!" Someone yelled on the other side of the curtain. You laughed pitifully, but as you looked over at Beomgyu, he was frowning.

"That, doesn't even sound real. I'm so sorry you even had to deal with human beings like that. Like he said, fuck those people." You nodded, wiping away the tears that slipped.

"You'll get over them in no time."

"No, fuck time. Time means nothing. I spent all that time investing in those people, just for them to spit in my face."

Beomgyu didn't know what to say to that.

"I guess you have a point."

- day eight

It had been a week since you met that police officer. You never got his name. He was such a nice person, and also amazingly handsome. Who ever bags him is extremely lucky. You, on the other hand were still dealing with your ex that you'd broken up with multiple times keeps showing up at your apartment.

"I don't like her at all! I thought that I would like her more than you but I just don't. Every time I was with her all I thought of was you."

"You sound like an idiot Kevin, do you not hear yourself? I want nothing to do with you. I'd sleep easy knowing I'd never see you again."

"You don't mean that! I don't believe that you got over me that fast, ___. We were just in love a week ago!"

"I was. You weren't. You were too busy thinking about Nancy to be in love with me." Now he was forcing you to think about things you didn't want to. You'd be lying if you said you didn't still have feelings for him. He was making it a lot easier to get over him each time he did this though.

"You don't even know what you're talking about right now!"

"Alright then enlighten me. What was going on between you, Nancy, and Joowon, huh? Were you guys plotting something behind my back? And for how long? Oh and after I fell and made a fool of myself? You didn't even care to check on me? Drive me home? Since you love me so much?" You balled your fists, ready to spill everything.

"___, lets go inside and talk." Kevin tried to grab your arm but you yanked it away from him.

"No lets let the whole complex know how much you loved me, and how much I should take you back!" You probably looked like a crazy person with your eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

"You're gonna get the cops called on us!"

"Do you know how many stitches I had to get? I was in so much pain not only physically, but emotionally!"

"And I apologized to you!" You felt your blood boil.

"Sorry won't give me my 10 years back! 10 years of Nancy's toxic behavior towards me and I never gave you or her anything but love. You knew how much she hurt me!"

"Sorry to interrupt, but we've gotten multiple noise complaints-" The man stopped mid-sentence. You were still staring dead at Kevin. You chest was heaving, face hot, tears threatening to spill. Man, were you tired of feeling like this.

"I told you! Look officer, we're sorry for causing any trouble. I'm her boyfriend-"

"No you're not."

The blunt statement caused you to finally tear your eyes away from Kevin. It was him, the cop from that night.

"Excuse me?"

Beomgyu turned more towards Kevin, a smile on his face.

"I know for a fact that you're not this girl's boyfriend." He extends a finger towards you. Kevin crosses his arms over his chest.

"And how do you know, Officer Choi," Kevin pokes his nametag, "that she isn't my girlfriend?"

"Because he's my boyfriend." You pipe up, smiling just as smugly at Kevin as the cop was.

"Bingo." Beomgyu smirks at you with a wink. Kevin turns towards you.

"Really? It's only been a week, ___. I've known you for three years and I'm not fucking stupid. What's his name?"

"Choi..." You looked towards the cop.

"Beomgyu."

"Beomgyu! My boyfriend's name is Choi Beomgyu, thank you very much." You were just having fun at this point. Seeing Kevin be that flabbergasted at the act you were pulling was beyond satisfying. It was his turn to be infuriated.

"This game you're playing? It's gonna get you fired. You're claiming my girlfriend? While we're still in a relationship?"

"Ma'am, is this man bothering you?" Beomgyu ignored him and turned towards you. You put on your best concerned face.

"Yes sir! He's been stalking me for days and won't go away." You rush over to Beomgyu and cling to his side in feigned fear. Kevin's arms flopped to his side in defeat. He rolled his eyes.

"Really? This is just childish now."

"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave before you get yourself into trouble."

Kevin already had the fight taken out of him from arguing with you.

"Grow up, ___." Kevin spat before finally leaving.

When Kevin was out of earshot you looked up at Beomgyu. He was peering around the corner at Kevin. When he turned back to look down at you, you realized you were still latched to his side. You quickly removed yourself clearing your throat. You looked back up at him with a smile.

"That was very relieving." You bursted into laughter, recalling the events that just unfolded. He was trying to hide the fact that he was chuckling.

"It was cruel but yes, very." He shook his head. After the laughter subsided, you couldn't help but stare at him. Damn, he was a work of art. A perfect human being maybe?

"Hey, do you wanna come inside?"

"I do want to but... I'm still on the clock. I look forward to seeing you again, ___." The corner of this mouth perked up as he left you there.

And see you again he did. He adamantly refuse to pursue you romantically.

"You're still getting over Kevin." He says. You didn't really care right now, you just wanted Beomgyu. No, you wanted to feel Beomgyu. And you let him know that.

day fifteen

He was over at your place, sitting across from you at the dining room table.

"Are you in a relationship?"

"No! I've told you this." Beomgyu reminds. You rolled your eyes.

"Then let's date." You cocked your head to the side, waiting for his answer. He just sighed and picked up his glass of water.

"I'd love to, not any time soon though."

"Fine," You slap your hands onto the table,

"Make me cum then, please." Beomgyu nearly choked on his water.

"___!" He clears his throat, setting down the glass.

"No strings attached, I'm just asking you to help me release some stress, my hands are tired."-

He never answered verbally that day. On his way out you just asked him to bring handcuffs if he was down. So a couple days later your opening the door to Beomgyu.

day eighteen

He brushes past you and sets a bag down on your coffee table. He pulls a pair of fluffy handcuffs out.

"What the hell are those?"

"They're more gentle on your wrist. They're made for sex." You shoulders drop as you look at him with puppy dog eyes.

"What if I want that extra pain?" You pout as those naughty words left your lips. Beomgyu sighed before taking the real handcuffs out. You gasped excitedly. You clenched your thighs imagining the cold metal against your skin. Then the two of you locked eyes. That's when you realized who this was happening with.

Everything was happening so fast that you didn't register who exactly you'd be having sex with. This was like a dream come true. You felt your body ignite as you walked toward him. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. Your lower regions react positively to his scent and touch. You arch into him as he wraps his arms around your waist. You wrap a leg around his waist, trying to gain as much friction as possible.

You whimpered as he pulls away. He grabs the handcuffs and moves to the bedroom. You follow him eagerly. When you enter behind him he slams the door shut before grabbing you by the throat. He pushes you onto the bed.

"Sit against the headboard, quickly." He began stripping his shirt off. As you settled against the headboard, you watched as he unwrapped his amazing body.

"Arms over your head." You obeyed, eager for the cuffs. You felt goosebumps erupt over your entire body as he closed them around your wrists.

"Now be a good girl and watch." Beomgyu sinks between your legs, his nose slightly brushes against your clit. You shuttered as his breath fanned across your womanhood. His tongue darted out, firm as it navigated your sensitive folds and clit. You wanted to keep your eyes on him as he worked his magic but all you could manage was to throw your head back. You let out a guttural moan, tugging against your restraints.

"Mm... it feels so good." Your balm coated lips glided against each other silkily as you pursed them. You go to clench your thighs but he pries then back open. He gripped the flesh of your thigh as he dips his tongue into your entrance. Chills run up your legs and he rakes his fingernails down your thighs. His marvelous tongue causes your stomach to tighten much faster than any other experience you've had.

"Hah- I'm c-close Beomgyu!" You raise your hips up from the bed, clenching your fists tightly. Beomgyu lifted his head from your heat, inserting two digits into you. Your hand lurch forward, shocked by the sudden fullness. You go to thrust your hips and meet his hand but he holds you down. He begins rapidly pounding his fingers into you.

"Say my name again baby." He was breathless, chin glistening. You felt like a dam was close to breaking.

"B-Beomgyu please!-" You squealed as you clamped you're thighs shut. He was just about to pry them back open when liquid came gushing from your core. Your eyes rolled back, biting your lip as your legs twitched. You whimpered loudly as Beomgyu kept finger you vigorously, milking everything out of you.

"P-please stop! Mmph-"

Beomgyu complies, wiping his fingers off on his pants. He began crawling over you to un-cuff you. He holds your wrists in his hands with a frown. You look up at him in absolute bliss before giggling.

"Damn." Your head falls to your left, just wanting to sleep as you were. Beomgyu was still focused on your wrists, massaging them.

"How do you feel, are you less stressed love?" He moved his gaze from your reddened wrists to your hooded eyes. You nod tiredly, a peaceful smile gracing your features.

"A little less, yeah."

-

day twenty-three

The first thing Beomgyu did every time he saw you was grab your wrists. He brought them closer to his eyes and examined them. He frowned.

"They still haven't healed?"

You glance at your wrists then at him and chuckle.

"It hasn't even been a week Beom." Your smile wavered a bit as you watched his face. The way he was looking intently at your wrists as he massages them. Your eyes rake over his features, taking in every crease and pore. You felt your cheeks flush, it's difficult to look away from him. His presence, you noticed it caused a warm cozy feeling. It gained more depth each he visited.

"You're staring, love." You we're shaken from your daze. The smile on his face was nearly splitting his face in half. It made you smile just as bright.

"Hey I don't think Kevin would be too happy about you looking at me like that."

"Who?" You shot him a genuine look of confusion. He responded with one of disbelief. It took only a couple seconds for you to realize your brain fart.

"Oh!- shit" You slapped yourself hand over your mouth, snorting.

"You were being serious?!" Beomgyu keeled over, bursting into laughter. You slapped his shoulder, pouting. He rose back up, tears in his eyes.

"As funny as it is, it's a great sign for your well-being I'd say."

You smile at him, cheeks almost pushing your eyes closed.

-

day thirty-two - realization

You can't stop thinking about him. It's not just in a sexual way either. His beautiful smile, his scent, the tender embraces, his laugh, his fingertips, his lips, god- his tongue. His taste, his nose, his eyes, his skin.

You could feel your heart beating against your ribcage. Your chest rising and falling at a quicker rhythm than usual. You purse your lips and shut your eyes.

Where is he? You had to see him.

Are you at home?

Yup

Cool, what's your address?

Why?

You were close to saying something about how unfair it was that he knew yours but you didn't know his... but no, it's serious.

I need to see you I want to come to you

Okay love ❤️

-

You kept trying to swallow but your mouth and throat were dry. It was terrifying waiting for the door to open. You were about to knock again when the door swung open. Your eyes must've sparkled when they laid upon Beomgyu. You felt like you were gonna burst. He pushed himself outside, still holding onto the door.

"What's wrong?"

"I love you, Choi Beomgyu." You felt your eyes burn. He looked shocked, you kept talking, a bit scared of what was to come.

"I-it's really sudden, I understand that. I've never said I love you this quick to anyone, but I know I love you. So I'll ask again if you'll please be my boyfriend?- hey!" He picked you up and swung you over his shoulder. He kicked his front door closed before plodding towards his room. 

He sets you down gently on the bed, immediately climbing over you.

"Yes, of course I will. I love you too, ___."

His lips meld with your so softly. He caressed your face in his hands as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip. His thumb stroked your cheek, pecking repeatedly at your lips. Your noses bump each other as you tilt your head, deepening the kiss. You snake your arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. You feel his bulge push into your thigh. You moan into the kiss, his tongue finally slipping into your mouth. Your tongues glide against each other, plush lips brushing against each other also. You grip the hair at his nape as you push your hips upwards into him.

He moves his hands down your body, caressing each curve and dip. He slides your pants and underwear down to your ankles, disconnecting the kiss. You whine, watching as he disrobed. He slowly lined himself up, brushing the tip against your folds. You sigh and move ever so slightly to gain more friction. He interlocks his fingers with yours before finally pushing past your entrance. You let out a strangled moan, squeezing his hands. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, leaving sloppy kisses up the base of your neck.

He thrusted forward, pushing himself in deep as he spread your legs farther. A strangled moan was pulled from your body in response. His bit harshly into his bottom lip. He finally gained a rhythm he was confident in. Sweet, firm kisses were trailed up your jawline, comforting you through the pressure. Once you felt comfortable you locked your legs around his waist. You raised your hips in sync with each of his thrusts. He rested his forehead against yours, breath fanning against your face as he panted. Your moans were rhythmic in reaction to his hips meeting yours.

He pressed his hips down flat against yours. The action caused his member to go burrowing deep inside you.

"Mmph!" Your arms fly around his shoulders, biting your lips. His head moves back into your shoulder as his rhythm gets weaker. His knees fail him, causing him to lay flat against you. He begins grinding up into you, chest flush against yours. You fuss and whine, orgasm so close yet not at all close enough. You dig your fingers into his back, feeling absolute bliss as your clit rubs against his skin. Your breathing picks up.

"I'm... I'm right there." You pant out, eyes rolling up into your skull. You wrap your legs tighter around him. Your hands flailed, trying to find something- anything to hold onto. His thrust were getting heavier as he grunted louder and louder. You clench the sheets as your orgasm rocks through your body. His hips snap spastically as your core sucked up every drop of his orgasm.

The embrace the two of you shared didn't waiver. In fact, you held him tighter.

"I love you." He said again. You smiled, stroking his broad shoulders. The exhaustion suddenly overcame you. Your arms drop from his body.

"I love you too." You mutter, barely audible. He scoffed, pushing himself up on his forearms.

"Say it better than that. Hey, don't  flop to the side."

You giggle as he poked at you.

"Let me sleep heathen!" You hide from him under the covers.

day fifty-one

You wrap your arms around Beom's left bicep. It was so comfy, but you knew he had to get up for work.

"Don't go..." you whine, already accepting that he had to go.

"I'm sorry love," he pulled away reluctantly. He pulled his shirt off, walking to the bathroom. You're half over him leaving watching him in that state. He stops just before opening the door, exclaiming as if he remembered something.

"I forgot to tell you, Nancy got arrested the other day. Turns out she got in trouble while driving or something? I think she didn't have her re-"

You shot up from the bed. "Hurry up and get ready. You're doing god's work, you saint."

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 10: Friday

I just had this feeling this morning like I didn’t want to go to work and eh... that was probably right. Nothing really bad happened, I just felt very strongly that I did NOT want to be there.

My coworker wanted to talk to me at like 8:30 in the morning (you know those silly little ‘don’t talk to me before I’ve had my coffee’ signs?? literally do not talk to me before 9:30 EARLIEST) and I was supremely incoherent. Then later a different coworker essentially took out his bad mood on my department including on me personally, and it was... dumb. I got his point but I’m just, as I tried to explain to others later, unkeen on being talked to about actions I took under others’ explicit instructions. Also, in part because of that, in part because I thought he was semi-unreasonable, and in part because I just truly didn’t want to do what he was asking/telling me to do, I did not really budge on the issue. Which was very awkward because as I said I did get his point. And of course the issue is SOMETHING DUMB which is always how it is. All of these fights are 100% shit that would sound idiotic if you tried to explain it to someone else, which is why I’m vaguing right now.

And the nametags thing came up on Teams (thanks @ the same coworker), and the only good thing about that is that the director explicitly said she was against the idea so I feel pretty confident that it won’t be mandated. Also I could detect some panic in other people about it. I do NOT like the way this is being handled AT ALL. Plus it’s just the hill I’ve decided to die on (because I think I can win--so I guess it’s better to say this is the hill I’m going to defeat my enemies on) so I gotta get annoyed at it. I refrained from contributing to the conversation but I did like the director’s anti-nametag post, which I think gets my point across.

Also I felt like I spent a lot of time doing not much, to be honest. Still didn’t go to stupid compact shelving. Devoted too much time to the crap in the above paragraphs. Talked to BL over in admin and heard some more unflattering stories about a particular administrator. Like, incredibly unflattering. Which is stuff I do want to know but it contributes to the overall Mood of the day, which again is ‘I don’t want to be here.’

I took a very late lunch, and that in turn contributed to me not paying enough attention to the time and leaving late.OH AND I got 3 important emails in the last ten minutes of the day. Two were very expected because they were coming from the West Coast but the last was like.. do not make me deal with this right now.

I didn’t deal with almost any of it but I did get so distracted that I left about five minutes late, and so I missed the bus. I wasn’t too upset about it since the weather was nice anyway and I didn’t mind spending some time downtown. But I did waste time trying to see if I could catch said bus, and then more time trying to go to my favorite coffee shop, which had closed at 5. But since it was 5:15, there were still people inside (cleaning up, which is fair) and people outside (drinking coffees they’d bought before 5 I’m sure, also fair), and the sign said hours were until 7 so I spent a few confused, embarrassing moments going ????? what is the truth?

So ultimately I went to a different cafe, a newish one that opened in 2019 I think. I’ve always avoided it in part because the floor is very loud and in part because I felt like I was cheating on my main place lol. (Not that I never get coffee anywhere else... just that this place is so close to my usual place, I always feel like, if I’m in the area, I might as well go to said usual place.) I did find the inside very disorienting. The pattern of the floor is just truly A Lot. They did have these weird teacup ornaments hanging from the ceiling though. I got an iced latte, which was fine, and this delicious spinach and feta pastry. I feel like I should stop by more often for baked goods. I settled outside with what I’d gotten, mostly because of the floor, partly because it actually was nice out, and partly because I’m not currently comfortable with indoor dining, even in places with almost no one in them.

I only had like 25 minutes to kill at that point, but it was nice. I had a notebook with me and I did a teeny bit of planning on the Southern Gothic AU (still behind on this!!). Mostly I listened to the conversation next to me. I couldn’t entirely help it; the girl’s voice was carrying. She was talking to her guy friend about some recent issues they’d been having in their friendship. I was honestly...kind of impressed with them? I could mostly hear her--he was talking too but his voice didn’t carry as much--but it just overall sounded like a really open, emotionally honest, generally calm talk. Like certainly there were strong emotions in play (not exactly going to judge whether they were “warranted” given the apparent facts of the dispute, since I just ranted about a disagreement over something so dumb I don’t even want to name it in public) but they were just... expressing feelings that were difficult, and expressing displeasure with others’ actions, without yelling or being passive aggressive, etc. I mean even that they’d picked this time and place to meet specifically to discuss it I thought was commendable. And they were definitely friends, not bf/gf, because the disagreement involved his girlfriend (once referred to as his “partner”...sorry lol I judged that a LITTLE since they looked like they were maybe 21 years old--partner in WHAT??). The girl mentioned her therapist, which put a lot of her tone and vocabulary into perspective. Not necessarily in a bad way, I mean, it seemed to be working? But as someone who has never been to therapy, but is self-taught, so to speak, in gauging and describing my own feelings, I could... discern a sort of purposeful vocabulary that almost sounded scripted. I wrote down some specific quotes but I don’t want to put them in a public place. I’ll draw my respecting-strangers’-privacy line in the sand there. But a lot of, like “when you do x, it makes me feel y” kind of controlled explanations.

Anyway, I got very invested in that. Partly for future writing purposes, partly out of curiosity and partly because... I don’t know that I could have that kind of conversation NOW and I’m fairly sure I could not have when I was in college. I mean.... I don’t know... I’ve blocked out a lot of the pretentious/serious/about-our-feelings talks I did have. And what sticks out now are all the times I didn’t do that--all of the many, many issues with TA38... Even the way B and I have literally NEVER acknowledged the handful of times we hooked up in 2009.

You’re never gonna sound COOL talking about your emotions, your wants and your needs; it’s always gonna sound, imo, like a Therapy Script. And I don’t even always think you gotta have those talks. After graduation, R and I literally had this exchange where we said ‘well we both made mistakes last year, and we could try to untangle it now, but it’s just gonna bring up a lot of bad feelings. It’s done now anyway. Blanket apologies given, blanket acceptance of apologies, let’s move on.” And we did and it was fine. But if we’d had better conversations while we were living together, that would have been a different situation.

All of which is of course complicated for me personally because I am extremely conflict-averse. EXTREMELY.

Anyway, I ran into BL at the bus stop and we talked a bit there and on the bus, which was fine but kinda exhausting tbqh especially because of the topic of conversation. I got home at 6:30 and must have crawled immediately into bed and gone to sleep, but I barely remember it at all. Woke up at 10:30 and had no idea what time it was or what day it was or what I was doing.

Had dinner and then somehow went down a rabbit hole that started... somewhere?? and ended with me looking up my childhood home on Google Earth, which you KNOW is the sign of a mentally stable person who is doing just fine okay.

Now it’s the absolutely disgusting hour of 2:30 in the morning... Idk I wanted to go out tomorrow and take advantage of the nice weather but we’ll see how that goes. The thing is I feel like I need a full day to sleep but I only have two (2) days and in that time I gotta do laundry, cook for the week, preferably write one (1) whole chapter of this fic, and possibly also go on the aforementioned excursion. Which is a lot for me. It doesn’t really... fit.

Everything’s just so much all the time and so on.

[queenofgotham800]

Freedom and Love

(Roman Sionis x Reader)

Requested by: @oneandonlyizabelle

(A/n): Thank you so much for request. I had much fun, writing this imagine, I hope you will enjoy reading it.💜🍸

Warnings: Gramatical Errors, swearing, death/or at least Injury, kidnapping

Nights in Gotham City were never peacefull. This city was living it's own life like always. Through the day, crime wasn't sleeping and in these hours it was just worse.

You were running through Gotham's dark alleys, turning your head behind, every time that it was possible. You knew you had no chance against him, he was the Dark Knight after all, the protector of Gotham. What would Roman do? This question popped into your mind. Roman Sionis, was your boyfriend, owner of the Black Mask club, which was now too far from your aproach.

The question; What would Roman do?, was not right becouse he wouldn't get into situation like this at all.

Few days ago

You were sitting behind the table in Roman's and your's apartment, since you already moved there.

Roman was sitting by your right side, and Victor was sitting in front of you, at the end of the table.

Victor had complicated relationship with you, same with Roman, it wasn't negative, but weirdly possitive. You could say that he liked you both.

That day, you were having breakfast with them, eating little cupcakes from the plate.

"Boss, we still have no idea, who is that crossbow killer guy," Victor mumbled as he ate cupcake.

"Victor, I told you that you should't talk as you eat." Roman looked nervous and then, he realized what Victor told him and smashed his cup on ground.

"WHAT! I sent few people after him, what happened?" Roman screamed after Victor.

"Roman, babe, I told you that you should't smash those cups," you told, even when you knew that this may don't help to his current situation.

"I don't care about the cups! I need that crossbow guy dead!" Roman turned to you and pointed at the cup. Victor looked on you with the 'we need to calm him down' look, and you sighed.

This crossbow killer, was causing Roman stresses and outbursts of anger. But what wouldn't, right?

You loved Roman despite his flaws and he loved you, even when he sometimes said terrible things, he always apologized.

"Honey, honey, look at me." you came to him, lifting his chin with your finger. Roman stopped shaking and his heavenly blue eyes looked in your (y/c) eyes.

"Breathe slowly, in and out," you whispered and Roman closed his eyes, and breathing exercise calmed him down a bit.

His breathing slowly turned into yours as you ran from the hero of Gotham City. Shit! He was still somewhere behind you.

"Breathe slowly, in and out," sounded your own voice in your head. "Right," you mumbled as you ran around some couple, who were holding their hands and then you dissapeared in another alley.

Roman opened his eyes, calm and then he stood from his chair. "Sorry for that cup, I will buy a new one to you," he mumbled and left. You looked on Victor desperately, who just silently mouthed at you -He needs you, go-

You turned to Roman who was leaving to bedroom and then back on Victor. "Go," he whispered, so Roman couldn't hear him.

You went to look at your boyfriend, who was standing next to window, looking down from it.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked as he turned around to you.

"I have no idea," he mumbled. He had still his pajamas on and you came closer, wrapping your arms around, hugging him.

"Don't worry about that crossbow guy," you whispered as he hugged you back, kissing the top of your head.

"I guess I should go take care about the club," he said heading to elevator.

"Roman, honey?" you stopped him.

"What?" he turned, with raised eyebrows.

"You have still your pajamas on," you smirked and opened the wardrobe, pulling out his favourite suit.

"Oh, right, I forgot," he laughed as you gave him his blue suit.

"I have to go, I have some bussines to do. I will be home probably sometimes around this time tomorrow," you said as he changed his clothes.

"Okay.. Should I sent few my mens with you?" he asked as you caught his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

"You don't have to," you kissed him.

"Are you sure?" he asked as he broke the kiss.

"I am sure, don't worry," you smiled, "I love you," you said and turned to go out, but Roman caught your arm.

"I love you too," he said and kissed you, "Be safe (y/n)," you smiled and blushed at his words.

"I'll try," you said and left the bedroom.

Behind you felt something down. He was close, and Black Mask club was few miles from this maze. Maze was the first thing that appeared in your mind when you heared Gotham City. Hidden spots all over the city, occupied or not, you had to find one of them and when we are mentioning a maze, that also meant lots of blind paths. End of the line.. Said voice in your head as you stopped running, facing the walls. You were trapped...

As you left the apartment, with two guns in your coat and one knife attached to your belt, you decided to go for this Crossbow killer alone. It was better, you hated teamwork. When you went somewhere by yourself you always informed Roman about it. Not becouse he would hold you back, but just for assuring him that you will return, or in the case that if somebody kiddnapped you, he could send you some help.

Roman had his own bussines, and you had yours. You were strict to your morals, unlike him, who acted always impulsive.

You also prefered to travel mostly by walk. Police station was your first stop. Roman had few cops there, who would hopefully tell you some useful informations.

When you entered, you found officers laying on ground with glitters on the floor. Pink and blue, those two collors were reminding you just one person. Harley Quinn, she was somewhere close. You didn't wanted to meet her right now, doubting she would tell you something what would help you.

The crossbow killer could be anywhere and cops wouldn't tell you right away anyways. So you 'got lost' in archives of criminal records of Gotham City. Of course, all of them weren't here, many of them were destroyed becouse their owners were unhappy with their existence. Few cops had their tables here, they weren't close so you sneaked to their workplace, taking a closer look. There were nametags on it, 'Howard Petterson' and 'Renee Montoya'

You started seraching the tables, hoping that you will find something that would help Roman.

In first table there was nothing, just few notes, diary and photos of dead bodies.

But then, you stopped, looking again onto the photo. There were laying mans on sofa, and you knew them. Roman knew them also. You saw the arrow sticking out of the neck of one corpse. It was familiar to you, the arrow was made in such a precise way, only one man in Gotham could do weapons that precise.

You took the photo with you, heading to the weapon shop, which was open in Gotham 24/7. You knew the owner, who was kind to everyone who came to buy something.

Shop wasn't looking too fancy, windows looked like they weren't cleaned a while and when you opened the doors, they made a terrible noice. Interior of the shop didn't changed, it was exactly like you remembered. Big guns on top of the rusty iron shelves were clean and polished.

"Hello?" old man said from behind counter.

"Hey dad.." you told him as you came closer.

"Long time no see.." he said and frowned, "What happened?" he asked.

"I need to know who did this," you said and took out, from your pocket folded, stolen photo.

Your dad fixed his glasses and looked on it.

"It looks like crossbow killer was in action again," he laughed and gave you back photo.

"Dad, I need to know who is he. That arrow is from your shop, isn't it?" you whispered as you heared opening the doors.

"Who told you, she is he?" he laughed and smiled when he saw girl, dressed in black and purple, entering the shop.

"Oh, hello, i did not expected you to be here so soon,"

he said and she smiled at him, holding the helmet in her hands.

"Hi, as usual please," she came to counter, pulling money from her pocket.

"Of course, wait here," your dad said, going somewhere in back of the shop.

"You looking for somebody?" she asked you, pointing at the photo.

"No, no.. Just checking.." you mumbled, holding your eye contact away from her, slipping the photo back into your pocket.

"Okay then," she smiled. You dad came back with a little box.

"Thanks," she told, opening the box with the little arrows, similiar to the one on the photo.

"Bye," she said and left the shop.

You were just collecting your thoughts at what really happened. She is the crossbow killer!

"Bye dad, I think i have to go.." you mumbled, running to stop the mysterious woman.

"These childrens.." Your dad told himself and shaked his head.

When you walked out of the shop, there was nobody. Not even a trace of the Crossbow lady.

It was getting late, sun started to fall slowly down like your hopes.

It was already dark, with starts above you as you went back to your boyfriend with empty hands.

Maybe it was better that you didn't followed her.

You didn't even knew what you would tell her. You didn't planed to kill her, just to blackmail her or maybe steal the crossbow from her, and now she is gone.

Somebody suddenly crushed into you, as you walked by.

"Hey, mind where you going," you turned to him as he standed there facing you suspiciously. After that you felt somebody's arms wrapping around you, throwing you in the trunk of a car. You tried to scream, but nothing, no one was around to save you.

They threw you out on ground in some old warehouse, which reminded you Roman and Victor, but this warehouse was darker.

"You took her weapons?" one of them said.

"Yes of course, I am not an idiot," said the other one.

There was just two of them, both of them looking like burgulars. They were poor, jugding by choice of clothing.

"What the fuck?" you shouted as one of them kicked you into the back.

"That's for Clary!" they both screamed as they continued with kicking you.

"Who!? Who is Clary?" you asked and they stopped.

"You are (y/n) (y/s), You are dating Roman Sionis, the man who killed my wife," one of them told you, kneeling down to you.

"Sure, look i am sorry about your wife, but that wasn't me, dude," you said.

"That doesn't matter!" he hissed at you, leaning his face closer, which was a big opportunity for you. They took the guns, but they forgot the knife.

You took it from your belt, stabbing the kidnapper into the cheek. The second one was pulling a gun at you.

"Oh, darling, you don't even know how to shoot with that," you smirked, standing up, ready to leave this damn place.

And it was true, he didn't know, but surprise came across your face when you saw big figure, dropping through the ceiling, falling down to kiddnaper.

"Shit.." you mumbled and started running away from the Dark knight himself.

And that is how you got into this situation, standing alone trapped in this corner, you turned to face him.

"You can't take me. I did nothing wrong.." you laughed as you watched him comming closer to you.

"You have nothing against me. I just defended myself there," you shouted at him.

Your shouts were muted by his punch. Then, you lost consciousness.

Then, you woke up, laying in some little cell. It looked familiar. It looked like.. Blackgate..?

"No, no, no.. Shit!" you screamed and kicked to doors.

"Hey! Go away from the doors," cop told you, and you obeyed and stepped back from the door.

"Wait, I need to ask you something," you shouted to officer. He just raised eyebrows, "What do you want?"

"Why... Why am I here? Shouldn't i be judged by court at first?" you asked, you knew you had some criminal background, but you weren't 100% evil.

"Oh, you are not here permanently. We have you, we have also your boyfriend. When he comes to save you, we will get him and then we will move you to another cell," cop laughed and left.

You caught your head, you wanted out, but you hoped that Roman is not comming for you. You didn't wanted be the reason, which is gonna get him behind bars.

Time was passing slower than usual, or not? You didn't know. Cell was small, boring, without the window, without the chance to see what is going on outside.

It was like time stopped and suddenly, you were all alone. You felt tear slowly comming from your eye. You realized that if Roman doesn't come for you, he probably didn't loved you that much as you thought. But if he came, he would be here trapped with you. You hated batman and cops for putting you in this position. Light above your head went out and you were thinking, if you already spent whole day here. No, that wasn't possible, they would give you some food and water. When the light above your head started flickering, you got up from bed.

Somebody broke in.. That was the next thought that popped into your head. Roman? You ran to doors, looking around through the small window. Others inmates started bashing on doors, shouting on the uninvited guest.

When you saw familiar Black mask, you bashed on doors.

"Hey, this is a trap, you have to go!" you screamed at him, as he tilted his head and called, "Zsasz?"

Roman whispered something to Victor, who just smirked waving you through the window.

"Don't worry princess, we got this," said Vic, kissed the window and ran away. Roman gave him an ugly glare, and put down his mask.

"I know, babe, that is why we need to go right now," He said, unlocking the doors. His mout hang open as he opened the doors.

"What?" you asked.

"I know this is not the right time for me to say that, but damn, you look so hot in that prison uniform," Roman said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him forward, away from the cells. Other prisoners didn't stopped kicking into doors and you heared few police officers.

"Sure, look who is talking, I am sure the prison uniform would fit you as well," you smirked as you both ran to the exit.

Outside, you both ran to his Rolls-royce.

"Wait.. Where is Victor?" you stopped and asked.

"He will be back, enter the car my dear, please do it now," Roman said, entering his car.

You sat next to him, watching the back doors entrance open. It was some officer, who was slowly comming closer to the car, and when he opened doors on the driver's spot, you held your breath.

"So, I guess we can go," said the police officer and turned to us. It was Victor in police uniform.

"Victor! Why did you.. Oh wait.. That's a brilliant idea," Roman and Victor smirked as you laughed.

"But how did you.. Where are guys, that were guarding this place?" you asked, while Victor started the car, leaving this horrible place.

"Look out from your window (y/n)," Roman pointed to window, at your left side, showing you the view of cops, who were fighting against Roman's army.

"That's impressive, what about Batman?" you asked and Roman's face went from being confident to being shocked.

"Batman, he is going after you? What have you done?" he asked you, holding your shoulders.

"Nothing, I.. I don't know why is he going after me," you lied and fixed his messy hair.

"Are you sure, he is not after us all?" Victor asked and increased the speed of the car nervously.

"I have no idea, but that could be the reason," you mumbled as Roman hugged you.

"Baby, it was just a day and i missed you so much," Roman moaned into your ear and you smirked.

"I missed you too," you said as he wrapped his gloved hand around your neck, kissing you slowly.

On the way home, nothing bad happened, no Batman, no cops, no kidnappers or crossbow killers. Sun was slowly rising.

"Beep, beep," Victor said as he parked next to Black mask club. "Hey, love birds, wake up!" he shouted. You and Roman, were peacefully sleeping, Roman sitting and you, laying your head on his lap.

As Vic shouted, you both woke up.

Club was closed, and you were glad. This night was so stressful and you both went up to bedroom to get some sleep. After bath and dressing up to pajamas, you both laid on bed, hugging eachother.

"I love you," you smiled and gave him kiss.

"I love you too," he kissed you back and you both felt asleep.