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onechicago-upsteadrhekker · 4 years ago

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the trouble with wanting (is i want you) - part two

Friends!!!!! I’m here! I’m back!

I can’t apologize enough for the long wait! It certainly wasn’t intentional, but alas that is the life of a college student and unfortunately school comes before upstead as much as I wish it didn’t!

I hope part two gives you all the feels and makes up for the long absence, however, I do have something to share with you that may make you want to kill.

Part two turned into part three...

So, SURPRISE! This isn’t a two-shot; it will definitely be a three part story and I am happy to say that part three is written (mostly, I have to tweak a few things) so that will be up sometime next week depending on my school schedule.

Thank you again for your patience and I sincerely hope that you enjoy this chapter that contains no real plot, a lot of fluff and mutual pining!

As always, let me know what you think in the comments!

Tagging: @imjustwritingg, @anniesardors, @thetwit, @angelsjedi, @chichichicken, @carissalizz, @maya-asturias

Let me know if you want to be added to this list for part three!

Read on AO3

The next few days are filled with mandatory walking sessions, pain meds every four to six hours and Jay’s smiling face. He was the only reason why she wasn’t absolutely losing it because while she despised hospital stays in general, hospital stays in another city filled with people she didn’t know were downright insufferable.

But he’d made it go from something akin to glorified torture to slightly tolerable.

The bullet wound was starting to heal and the incision from where they’d had to remove her spleen was looking great according to the nurses and everything seemed to be on the right track healing wise, but anything regarding this thing that she and Jay had going on? She had no idea.

One would think getting shot in a different city, causing one partner to literally drop everything and come rushing to the other partner’s side would end in heartfelt confessions and relationships born at hospital bedsides.

But that’s not what happened, and Hailey was seriously starting to wonder if she and Jay were ever going to be on the same page. Or at least read the page aloud because she was fairly certain he felt the same way about her that she felt about him.

Because just partners don’t fly eight-hundred miles to be by your side even if you are hurt.

Right?

And it didn’t help that he was there with her almost twenty-four seven, giving her no time alone to process what he was telling her without words because before this, it had just been subtle glances and warm smiles, teasing words and affectionate eyes.

But this. Flying eight-hundred miles. It was tangible and real, and she couldn’t quite believe it was really actually happening, but then he was there, bringing her her favorite foods from restaurants she’d found during her time in New York and barely going back to her hotel room for sleep, staying by her side to keep her company and catch her up on five weeks’ worth of Intelligence news.

He was there for every lap around the hospital floor and every dressing change. He was there to shoo out the nurses when they were starting to get on her nerves and he was there, rubbing her hand softly when the pain of her bruised ribs made it hard to breathe.

And then there was the way she was constantly being referred to as ‘Jay’s wife’ instead of her own name much like when she was back in grade school and her teachers would call her ‘Sam’s little sister’.

He’d made quite the impression on the nurses and for some reason neither she nor Jay had set the record straight on the actual status of their relationship since that first day when he was mistaken as her husband.

(It was probably the same reason that they hadn’t talked about what Jay flying to New York meant. And to be honest, Hailey was sort of hoping that Jay would set the record straight on their relationship, if only to let her know where they stood.)

And she definitely wasn’t going to acknowledge the dangerous little thrill she got from hearing herself referenced that way or think about what it would be like for real. Nope, not a chance or she might never come back down to reality after having narcotic-induced dreams of three little words, ‘I do’s’, freckled little faces and laughing green eyes.

But then it’s so close, she can almost taste it and it should scare her, but it doesn’t.

Because she can feel it in the way he grins at her and in the way he tells her goodnight at the end of a long day of keeping her company. It’s in the way his arm brushes hers when he’s helping her sit or stand and it’s in the way his eyes hold hers for far longer than he should; his green eyes swimming with hints of the things she dreams.

But until she hears it. Until one of them gathers the courage to actually say the words and put a name to what they already know and feel, then she’s going to wait and guard those dreams carefully because she knows deep in her heart that when they return to Chicago, it will have either worked out or it won’t at all.

She’s not sure exactly when the pieces will fall into place or if they’ll even fit together but she knows they are at the point of no return. And honestly, that scares her the most because no matter what happens, it will always be Jay for her.

Because he was her home, and he had a place in her heart no one else could ever have and that terrified her because she knows that she’ll never get over him if for some reason it doesn’t work out between them.

She tries not to think like that because she’s pretty sure what she’s seen in his eyes is something that looks a lot like love, but it’s hard to be totally optimistic when it seems like the universe is always keeping them not necessarily apart, but not really together. At least not in the way she’s pretty sure both of them want.

So, she sits in her hospital bed, watching him laugh at her attempts to renegotiate her discharge date with the nurses and listens to him chatter about what Will’s been up to and how much he hated being tossed between Kevin, Kim, Adam and Vanessa while she’d been gone even if he liked working with each of them.

They’d been flying crooked he told her and that her not being there threw them all off so he’d be happy when he could take her back home and so would everyone else. In fact, they’d told her as much when Kim had facetimed Jay the day after he’d arrived in New York to get proof of life and see for themselves that she was truly going to be okay.

It was sweet and nice, and it made her realize how much she really did miss her team turned family even if she already felt like she was home just because Jay was beside her.

He was beside her and he was there with her and every time he looked at her over the beeping of the heart monitor she was hooked up to, everything else faded from view. The facetime calls with their friends, the friendly nurses checking up on her every few hours, the general hustle and bustle of hospital life happening outside her room.

It was just them and she’d be lying if she wasn’t looking forward to her discharge date for reasons other than just being out of the hospital because she knew then, she and Jay would truly be alone stuck in a hotel room in a city that neither one of them knew.

And that, she knew, would be the true test.

On the morning of the third day she’d been in the hospital, Hailey was given the news that she’d be released by that afternoon. If she was physically capable, she’d be jumping for joy but because of the dozen stitches in her side, she’d had to settle for celebrating internally.

Moving was still slow-going and she still felt overly tired far too early in the day, but she was confident that a night in her own bed (or at least the bed she’d been sleeping in for the past several weeks) would do her a world of good.

And she wasn’t going to think about how Jay being potentially next to her would probably make her sleep better than she’d ever had.

She didn’t know exactly where Jay had been disappearing to when he’d left the hospital at night, but she’d given him the key to her hotel room and he always came back looking well-rested so she felt safe assuming he was sleeping in the same queen bed she’d been occupying for the past five weeks.

Hailey wasn’t quite sure what would happen tonight when it was time for him to go to bed, but she wondered if this was the day they were going to finally get it right, nestled under the bed covers, whispering dreams and promises, her side aching but her heart so full.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Her gaze flicked up to Jay who had entered the room and was walking towards her, his hands already reaching out to help her pull on her coat. Hailey looked up at him as he focused his gaze on putting her left arm carefully through the sleeve of her jacket.

She wasn’t sure if a person could have reversed déjà vu, but the action brought her right back to another hospital room in a different city when she was still reeling from the panic she’d felt surrounding Jay’s terrifying brush with death.

When she’d helped him pull his familiar, worn black jacket over his sling right before she almost told him she loved him.

And now here they were again, except this time it was him helping her and this time she knew they weren’t going home without having the conversation they should have had then.

“Thanks,” She murmured softly, trying to ignore the way her heart raced when he briefly squeezed her hand.

Hailey gingerly sat down on the side of the bed, already worn out and sore from the morning’s activities of getting ready to leave.

“I called a taxi. It should be here any minute,” He grabbed her duffle and sat it beside her, “You sign the discharge papers?”

“Yes, thank God,” She muttered accepting the pair of Sperry’s Jay was handing her.

He chuckled softly, “You are so impatient.”

She shot him a look, “I’m sorry. And who was the one practically begging me to spring him from the hospital the minute he was awake and talking?”

He had the wisdom to look sheepish, but he couldn’t hide the wide smile threatening to take over. Clearly, they were both happy to be leaving the hospital room behind.

As Jay busied himself with packing the last few items into the duffle he’d brought Hailey the day he’d arrived in New York, he can’t help but watch her. She’s moving slowly, but she seems pretty alert for someone who got shot and had relatively serious surgery only four days ago.

Her eyes are bright if not tired and her hair is haphazardly thrown up in her signature high pony, but Jay still thinks she’s the most beautiful girl in the world and he almost tells her just that.

His mouth is open, forming the words when she turns to him after sliding on her shoes, catching his gaze with eyes narrowed in suspicion, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

And he thinks this is why he can never tell her how he feels. She’s always taking the words away with a flash of blue and a dash of blonde because he wants his future to look like her so badly, it terrifies him. And even when he does finally find the words, he knows he will never be able to tell her with words just how much she means to him.

His lips quirk and he shakes his head, turning his attention back to the duffle to zip it up before nodding towards the open door of her hospital room, “No reason. You ready to go?”

For a second, he thinks she’s going to push, and they are going to have the conversation they need to have right here and now, but then she doesn’t and some part of him feels disappointed that they are making themselves wait once again.

He’s not even entirely sure why because nothing is holding them back now. Not really. They are finally both in the same city with no kidnappings, rigged elections or anything else threatening to tear them apart and yet, they are still walking that very fine line of partners and best friends to something openly affectionate and loving and real.

It’s almost too perfect because while he rushed here in a state of panic, not knowing what he would find, Hailey, for the most part was okay and now they were stuck here with basically nothing to do but wait till she could fly without risk of infection or complications from surgery.

He’s not sure if he should be worried, waiting for the other shoe to drop or thrilled that the universe seems to be giving them a hint that it was finally time to take that leap of faith from partners and best friends to something more.

“Hailey, you are clearly in pain.”

After the short taxi ride from the hospital, they were finally in the hotel room and now firmly engaged in a battle of wills.

Hailey was currently giving him a glare that reminded him of the way she would silently warn him from across the bullpen to not do something he might regret or when they were down to the last couple of fries during a long stakeout and he was reaching for them.

Generally, he didn’t win the fights when she wore that look but today, he was determined to stand his ground.

“Jay,” It was practically whined and while he understood her reluctance to take the pain meds she’d been prescribed, he couldn’t stand watching her in pain.

In the few times that Hailey’s been injured during their partnership, it hadn’t been too serious, and she usually had a good attitude about doing what she needed to do to recover. So, seeing her like this, pale and tired and just not her normal, spunky self, broke his heart and he wanted to do everything in his power to fix it.

Starting with the meds she’s determined not to take.

He was happy to at least see the trait that was so undeniably Hailey in her eyes because otherwise, she looked like a lifeless shell of the badass detective he knows she is. The oversized pillows she was propped against makes her seem so tiny and she almost blended in with the sheets she was so white.

If he was being honest, she was starting to look worse than she did when she was in the hospital and that definitely concerned him enough to possibly make him take her right back there or at least call Will for his opinion.

Sighing, he uncrosses his arms to move from where he’s been standing a few feet away from the end of the bed holding the prescription bag in a clenched fist.

Her eyes track his movements as he comes to gingerly sit down at the edge of the bed, leaning over on his forearm to look at her closely, “Hailey,” He shakes his head, “Please just take them. At least so you can get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

For a second, he thinks that she’s going to keep fighting him, but then he sees the weak mask she’d had in place slip, the dull look of pain and exhaustion becoming clearly present in her eyes.

“Okay, fine,” She sighs out wearily, and he’s a little surprised that she conceded that quickly even if he knew he’d already won, but then she cocks her head slightly, “What do I get in return?”

Yeah, he didn’t think he’d won that easily.

Jay pushes the flirty and slightly suggestive response that instantly pops into his head to the back of his mind. There would be plenty of time for that later, or at least he desperately hopes so because he knows that now is not the time to start anything of that nature.

When he tells Hailey what she deserves to hear, he wants her feeling halfway decent and looking healthier than she does right now.

If they were in Chicago, he would bribe her with Bartoli’s, but they weren’t. They are in New York and she’s already made it quite clear that the pizza here is a tragedy, so he doesn’t think she’d want that particular food even if he could find a copy-cat deep-dish place.

So, he goes for the next best thing, “What about some Greek? It probably won’t be anything like Greek Islands, but I’m sure I can find a decent place. I could grab you some Pastichio. What do you say?”

The way her eyebrows furrow and her bottom lip sticks out adorably makes him want to kiss the pout away, but he doesn’t.

She shakes her head, “I don’t want Greek.”

Jay bites his lip briefly and refrains from making a comment on the childish tone of her voice as he regards her carefully for a quiet second.

He would never admit it, but he knows he’s a much worse patient when their positions are reversed so he’s more than willing to put up with her stubbornness because he knows it’s just a way to cope with the pain.

And besides, he loves her. He would do whatever he could to make her feel better.

“I’ll get you whatever you want as long as you take your medicine, so why don’t you tell me what it is you’d like to have,” He pushes himself up off his forearm to sit upright, but he still holds her gaze.

She sighs carefully, picking at the covers before answering him, “A Snickers bar.”

Jay raises his brows.

In the years he has known her, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her eat a candy bar. She could down a piece of chocolate cake at an event, or the random chip bag she’d found during a stakeout, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her eat the overly processed candy bar before.

“You like Snickers bars?” He can’t help the slightly disgusted tone of his words.

Hailey’s expression instantly morphs into a defensive one, “A girl can have guilty pleasures, and this just so happens to be mine. Now, you said you’ll get me anything if I take my medicine, so you’re lucky it’s not something like a new gun. Or a car.”

Jay rolls his eyes and Hailey desperately wants to swat him but she’s already in a significant amount of pain so she doesn’t think that would be the wisest decision.

“Relax, I will get you your Snickers bar. I promised, didn’t I?” He smirks a little as he moves off the bed to grab his coat that’s thrown over the back of the desk chair, “I just can’t believe I didn’t know you liked candy bars.”

Shrugging a little, she tries not to wince at the pain that small movement caused her, “I don’t indulge in them much; only when I’m not feeling good or if there’s literally nothing else to eat.”

After gathering up his wallet and phone, Jay stops in the middle of the room to regard her for another moment. He shakes his head, “What else don’t I know about you, Hailey Upton?”

She gives him a little smirk of her own, “Lots of things, I’m sure. I was once told I was aloof about my personal life.”

“And just when I thought I was getting to know the person under that tough exterior,” He feels the smile creep over his face, and he doesn’t care that he probably looks like a man hopelessly in love because he is.

He watches as her own expression softens and for just a moment, their eyes meet. A thousand words of unspoken love pass between them and he can see his entire universe in those captivating, blue orbs just as she can see a million promises in his.

Hailey shifts and winces at the sharp pain it causes her, cursing herself for ruining the moment. Those pain pills she’d tried refusing were looking pretty good right about now as the throbbing intensified around her still tender ribs.

Jay noticed her discomfort. He always does, and she could see the concern so clearly on his face it made her heart swell in love. He’s the most caring man she’s ever met, and it’s one of the things she loves most about him.

“As soon as I get back, you’re taking your meds,” Jay frowns, rubbing his thumb briefly along his hairline before dropping his arm, “I’d give them to you now, but I’m not sure I should leave you alone with narcotics in your system just in case. And besides, you need to take the antibiotics with food, so I’ll pick up something while I’m out.”

She just nods, picking up the remote for the television, “Sounds good. I’ll be here watching whatever trash I can find on TV, so hurry back.”

Jay gives her one last smile that warms her from head to toe before he opens the door and walks out.

When Jay walks through the hotel door about an hour later, he has the overwhelming urge to call out a ‘Honey, I’m home’, but he doesn’t want to wake Hailey if she’s sleeping and he’s not sure how she would respond to the term of endearment even if it is said teasingly.

It’s funny how that is the thing he feels would be crossing the practically non-existent line they have towing for the past several days. Or weeks really if he’s honest with himself.

As it turns out, she’s not sleeping but still in very much the same position he’d left her in. The TV was on, a rerun of ‘Happy Days’ playing quietly but she doesn’t seem to be paying much attention. Instead, she’s looking down at the phone in her hand, clearly scrolling through something before glancing up at him.

Her eyebrows rise as she takes in the various Target bags he’s carrying in both hands. Hailey let her phone drop in her lap, more interested in what Jay had bought because all she’d sent him out for were Snickers Bars, “Did you buy the whole store?”

He frowns at her as he finds the bag of take-out Chinese he’d ended up getting for their late lunch-early supper to set on the nightstand, “No, I did not, but I did get real food and,” He holds up the other bags he was carrying, “I got you your Snickers.”

Whatever else he’d bought was forgotten as she beamed up at him, already reaching for the candy bar he was digging for throughout his purchases. When he finally found what he was looking for, he tossed it to her, and she immediately ripped open the wrapper.

He makes a face as she bites into the sugary chocolate, “I still don’t know how you eat that crap.”

She responds with an eyeroll because her mouth was too full to make a witty comeback.

“You could at least wait till you ate actual food first,” Jay arched a disapproving eyebrow, his nose wrinkling as he watched her make an obvious display of enjoying her treat. He shakes his head and deposits the Target bags on the lower end of the bed to pull out the bottles of vitamin water he’d bought for her.

“Here, I got your favorite and a couple of new ones for you to try,” He handed her the blackberry flavored one before retrieving the pill bottles that were sitting on the nightstand beside their bag of food.

He read the instructions on each bottle then opened the oxycodone to dump one out, “Okay, you can have one right now and,” He checked his watch, “One at around seven then another at eleven.”

Hailey frowns, but takes the pill out of his outstretched palm anyway, “I hate the way these make me feel. My head feels fuzzy, and I can’t think clearly.”

Jay gives her a sympathetic smile and offers a simple, “I know” because he does know, but he also knows that if she has any hope of getting rest tonight, she needed to be well medicated.

“Maybe tomorrow we’ll try going all day without pain meds, okay? I just want to make sure you have a good night’s rest tonight since it’s your first night out of the hospital,” He tells her as he shakes out an antibiotic pill and then the iron supplement the doctor had prescribed her with for the next few days to hand to her.

Nodding, she knocks the three pills back and takes a swig of her vitamin water. Meeting his gaze, she reaches out to grab his hand and gives it a tight squeeze, “Thank you, Jay.”

The heavy tension that settles over them is now a familiar one and it’s almost comforting in a way as she tells him with her eyes how grateful she is for him.

After a few moments of silence, she clears her throat and withdraws her hand, turning her attention to the bags of stuff piled on the bed, “So, what’d you get?”

Jay blinks, shaking himself out of the trance they’d just been in as he rifled through the things he’d bought, pulling them out to show Hailey, “Well, I did some research and according to WebMD which was confirmed by my brother, weighted blankets can help with muscle soreness and speed up the recovery process.”

“I also got some ice packs,” He dumps out about a dozen before reaching in yet another bag, “And I picked up some of your favorite movies as well as a couple of pairs of fuzzy socks because I know you didn’t pack any and the hospital socks are terrible.”

The tears that spring to her eyes aren’t unexpected because the fact that he knows and remembers how much she loves wearing fuzzy socks when she’s at home decompressing tells her how much he cares even if he hasn’t really said it out loud yet.

The research, the weighted blanket, the movies, the treats, the socks; it’s slightly overbearing, but it’s sweet and it’s so undeniably him that it makes her heart hurt with the love she has for him.

She gives him a soft smile, “For someone who claims to not know me, he sure does take care of me and brings me all of my favorite things.”

“Well, after four years I would hope to know some things,” Jay smirks at her before moving to put the ice packs in the small fridge/freezer combo they had in the room.

He looks back at her over his shoulder, “But, I somehow missed your Snickers habit and it makes me wonder what else I should probably know, but don’t.”

Rolling her eyes, she watches as Jay moves back over to the bed, going for the food he’d sat on the nightstand.

“You know you’re not exactly an open book,” She points out with a wry smile.

He’s not an open book, it’s true, and even though she’s teasing him about it, she knows him better than anyone. Maybe better than even Will knows him. Maybe better than he even knows himself, and it’s ironic because the way she knows him better than anyone is more so through his actions and not his words.

She knows his heart through his acts of compassion. She knows his mind through his steady emotions. And she knows him because he lets her see the deepest parts of himself, unspoken secrets swimming in his eyes and dark memories whispered over drinks.

She knows the things that matter and the same could be said about the things he knows about her, but now that it’s being brought up, she does wonder if there are any meaningless habits she hasn’t bared witness to.

If her mind goes straight to those of a personal nature such as nighttime routines and shower preferences, then she’d never admit it.

“Well,” He handed her a container of Shrimp Lo Mein, “We’re stuck in this hotel room with basically nothing to do so,” Jay sat down on the bed, facing her with his own container of Chinese, “Let’s play a game.”

Hailey arches a skeptical eyebrow, “A game?”

“Yeah,” Jay nods as he takes a bite of his own Lo Mein, “Like one of those ‘get to know you’ games since we apparently don’t know much about each other.”

She frowns, a little unconvinced at this plan and what it could entail, but she’s curious and the slight woozy feeling she feels from the pain meds makes her ask, “What kind of ‘get to know you’ game? Like truth or dare?”

Smirking, he shakes his head, “No. Although, that could be extremely entertaining.”

“Uh-uh. No way am I drinking a bottle of hot sauce or jumping off the balcony or some other insanely difficult thing that you would think was easy,” She takes a bite of her food, trying to shake back the loose hair that keeps falling into her face, “I just had surgery.”

He’s full-on grinning now, chuckling at her impassioned response, “Nothing like that. I was thinking more along the lines of 21 Questions.”

Hailey tries to take another bite of her food, but her hair gets in the way again. She’s starting to get frustrated at the locks that keep falling into her eyes and mouth, making it hard to eat.

Sticking her chopsticks into the take-out container, she uses the now free hand to push her hair behind her ears as she shrugs, “Alright then. We don’t really have anything better to do other than watch movies and eat takeout anyways.”

The way his eyes sparkle at her answer is worth all the cheesy questions she’s sure he’s going to ask.

He stands up, shoving a used napkin into his now empty takeout container and she’s always amazed at how quickly he can down food when he wants to, “We can alternate asking questions and we don’t have to ask exactly 21 questions. It can be more, or it can be less.”

He throws his trash away and starts cleaning up the bed, moving all of the empty Target bags and the stuff he bought off to one side, “Is there anything off limits?”

She hesitates before saying no, shaking her head because while her natural inclination is to keep everything close to the vest, she knows there is nothing that she wouldn’t share with Jay if he asked her.

He makes her feel safe, and she’s constantly finding herself telling him things that she’d never said out loud before anyway, so she already knows that he will guard her secrets and feelings and thoughts deep in his own heart as if they were his own.

It’s like he knows what she’s thinking because the way he smiles at her is so gentle and the secretive sparkle in his eyes is what tells her that the same goes for him.

“You wanna go first or do you want me to?” Jay cocks his head, looking at her as he tears into the weighted blanket.

“You can go first,” She goes to take another bite of food when her hair falls into her face for what feels like the hundredth time.

She sighs internally, her frustration going unnoticed by Jay who had turned back towards the movies he’d bought, opening each of them as he tells her he has to make this first question a good one.

Pretty quickly after waking up from surgery, Hailey had found putting her hair up in its typical ponytail an almost impossible task because every time she raised her arms to gather her hair up, her stitches would pull, and her ribs protested loudly.

After several failed attempts that left her eyes watering, she ended up having a nurse put it up for her and she continued to ask for it done in the mornings before Jay arrived at the hospital to keep her company.

But now, there was no nurse to gather up her long, annoying hair when it keeps falling in her face and even though she’s stubborn enough to try it, Hailey knows if she pulls on her stitches or possibly breaks one, then she’s going to be paying for it tomorrow all because she wanted to put her hair up herself.

She sighs again, this one audible as she sets her Chinese container on the nightstand, “Jay?”

“Yeah?” He turns to look at her, his brows furrowed in concern.

Hailey bites her lip sheepishly as she snaps the elastic band around her wrist against her skin, “Can you put my hair up?”

He looks surprised for a moment before he smirks at the slight blush dusting her cheeks at having to ask for help with a task this simple, “Of course I can, Hailey.”

She hands him the ponytail holder as he walks over to the side of the bed, “But I will warn you. I’ve never done this before.”

She wants to tease him. Maybe tell him he’d better start practicing now if he ever hopes for a daughter one day, but it feels too on the nose when she wants that daughter to be hers too.

So instead, she smirks at him as he moves behind her to start gathering her hair up in awkward chunks. Hailey glances at him out of the corner of her eye, fake gasping, “Don’t tell me that the brave and noble Detective Jay Halstead, the man who jumps over moving cars and shoots sniper rifles doesn’t know how to put hair up in a ponytail.”

“Oh, shut up,” He grumbles good-naturedly, still trying to smooth her blonde hair into his loosely closed fist on top of her head, “It’s not like I’ve really had the opportunity or need to practice.”

Chuckling, she lets him concentrate on pulling her hair through the elastic and tries not to get lost in the feeling of his fingers in her hair and the warmth radiating off him. Her eyes flutter close and she marvels at how gentle he is even with the strength of his hands, well-conditioned in the act of squeezing a trigger.

And just like when making those shots, the precision in which he does everything is still there as he carefully tightens the elastic, securing her hair into place.

Hot breath hit the back of her now exposed neck and she can’t help but shiver. Before he’s stepping away, she swears she feels his hands brush her skin and she wonders if he’s equally as affected as she was by his closeness.

But before it can turn into anything, he’s smiling and settling back into his spot at the foot of the bed, gesturing to the ponytail he’d just completed, “It’s not as good as you do it, but I think it’ll pass.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Jay. It’s out of my face and it’s not like anyone will see it,” She grins at him as she picks up her food, intending to finish it off now that her hair won’t get in her way.

Jay frowns teasingly, “Hey, and what about me? Am I not someone?”

She smiles softly in amusement, “You’ve seen me in worse states and you’re not just anyone, you know that. You’re my best friend, Jay,” She hesitates because she knows that’s not strictly true. He is her best friend and he’s her partner but he’s also the man she loves, and it would be so easy to let the truth slip out.

Looking at him, she sees something in his eyes that looks like hope or maybe anticipation and she wonders if he thinks she’s going to tell him the one secrete she just can’t seem to get out. Maybe she would have told him if they sat there for a few seconds longer, but his phone buzzes and the moment is gone before it really even began.

Hailey wonders if phones are going to be their downfall.

She thinks she sees disappointment flash across his face, but she blinks and he’s looking at his phone with a serious expression.

“Is everything okay?” Her brow furrows as she watches him type out a quick response and put the device back into his pocket.

He shakes his head, sighing, “That was Kev. The Latin Players are on the verge of waging war against a new up and coming gang called The Jets.”

Interjecting, Hailey raises a brow, “As in West Side Story?”

“Yep,” Jay lets out a wry chuckle, “Anyway, the team flipped someone on The Jets’ side, and it looks like they are possibly willing to play ball so Kev was asking for some background info on my Latin Player connect because Intelligence is going to attempt to negotiate a truce before it can escalate to a full-blown gang war.”

She groans quietly, all too aware of the potential complications and ramifications that come from this type of violence, “That’s just what the city needs. A gang war.”

He huffs in agreement, dropping his head in disgust and she can see the tension in his shoulders. Even eight-hundred miles away, the crime and the innocent people that inevitably gets tangled up in it affects him.

Hailey frowns, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. She reaches out a hand to lightly touch his bent knee, “Jay.”

He looks up at her and the empathy she sees in his eyes makes her heart swell in what’s becoming a familiar sensation. Love and pride and admiration and respect for this man she has the privilege to know.

Her eyes soften and she smiles gently at him, an earnest look on her face, “If you need to go home, go home Jay. I’ll be alright here by myself. I don’t need you to take care of me.”

If the situation wasn’t so serious, she might have laughed at the way his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, clearly not expecting those words to come out of her mouth.

Recovering, his eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head adamantly, “No way. They can get along without me. I’m not leaving here without you and I don’t care if you think you can take care of yourself because who’s going to help you change your bandages or make you take your medicine or keep you company?”

He challenges in a slightly playful manner, but the eyebrow he raises dares her to contradict him and she knows he is serious, “Besides, I need to be here if I want to keep my own peace of mind. I don’t work well without you, so I’m not sure how much help I’d be anyway.”

She knows that no matter the circumstance, Jay would always perform above and beyond the call of duty, but she also knows that this is his way of telling her that he needs her and the way he was willing to stay with her in New York makes her heart stutter in yet another way.

Before she can dwell on the feeling any further, he’s smiling again, his eyes crinkling with mischief, “Now back to the game. I think I have the perfect question for you.”

Sorry it ended in a bit of an awkward spot, but I decided to split it into two parts when I hit 10,000 words and I still wasn’t done yet lol so I didn’t know this was going to be the ending of a chapter.

I’d love to hear what you thought and stay tuned for part three!

#upstead #upstead fanfiction #jay and hailey #hailey and jay #onechicago #chicagopd

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sabraeal · 3 years ago

Text

Climb to the Rooftops

[Read on AO3]

Written for @another-miracle; a birthday fic that is COMING OUT ON TIME would you look at that (though I am definitely doing some fancy footwork to make it work out in both time zones 😂 Yixin asked for the Post-Rescue Tanbarun Tree Scene for WFB, and then I said, I could give you that, but what if I told you about a secret scene instead...

And then Yixin told me to write whichever one was Obi POV

He knows her.

That’s what keeps running through his head’s hamster wheel as he clomps up the student center steps. He knows her; he’s always known her. If he reached out on that park bench, if he’d grabbed her with both hands and just said, don’t leave me--

He would have been laid flat on his ass, courtesy of that mean right hook her dad taught her before he bounced. And there’d be another demerit on his record to boot, one more instance of anti-social behavior to make him even more unadoptable than he already was. Doc was always destined to go to a loving home, complete with cozy hideaways and towers of books, with warm firesides and even warmer grandparents, and he...

Well, he wasn’t meant for anything like that, no matter who he clung to. Sometimes shit just happens, and no wishing on stars thirteen years gone can change that.

It’s good to see her though. He’d always wondered what happened to his muppet girl, whether she’d gone off and had her happy ending just like she said she would. And now he knows she did.

He glances down at the peanut butter canister in his hand. Well, at least for a little while. That’s the thing about happy endings; they don’t really stick.

Obi hesitates, one foot poised over a step up, his hand wrapped around a ruddy safety rail. “Um, Doc.”

It takes her three steps to bounce to a stop, just enough to let her look down instead of up or across. He’s got double vision for a moment: Doc in the here and now looking at him with so much hope and anxiety that he’s half-afraid she’ll shake apart like a Hot Wheel in a blender; superimposed over the little girl in his memory, round face beaming up at him and her worries far behind her.

She’s got more freckles now, though most of them are hidden beneath her coat, fading without the direct application of summer sun. More inches too, though not as many as he’d given her in his head; for once he’d given more benefit of the doubt than nature could provide. And her hair-- well, that’s the same. Red. Fluffy. Muppety, too, if it’s the morning.

“Obi?”

He should really be paying attention to this conversation he fucking started, instead of just staring at her like a creep. “I just wanted to check in.”

“Oh.” She goes rosy under the freckles he can see, shifting the urn from her hands to her elbow. “I’m-- I’m fine. I’m glad that we could find--” one arm juts out, trying to encompass both them and the containers-- “everyone.”

“Yeah, I got you, but I meant...” He angles a pointed look over her shoulder. “Why are we going up?”

Doc’s jaw drops, and he sees it, the way panic crests right behind her eyes.

“Not that I’m suggesting we don’t.” He takes the next step slow, just enough to put them on equal standing. Except it doesn’t, it puts him a little above her; the beginning of really looking down. His heart flutters in the exact way it shouldn’t when he’s carrying human remains. “I’m just saying, if we’re going to carry geriatrics up a few flights, the elevator’s better for their hips.”

He expects her to laugh at that one, or maybe even roll her eyes, but instead Doc breaks out into a full-body Chihuahua tremble.

“Obi.” Her eyes are so big in her face they might swallow him whole. “We can’t take the elevator.”

“We...can’t?”

Her head jerks in the scarcest side-to-side. With one long, steeling breath, she informs him, “We’re going to do something a little illegal.”

His brows raise. “Illegal?”

The urn bobbles treacherously as her hands fly up between them. “Only a little!”

“You cashed in your favor with me,” he repeats slowly, savoring the thrill that zips through him with every syllable. “To do something illegal.”

Doc deflates with all the gravitas of a popped kiddie pool. “I’m sorry, I should have asked if that would be okay. Especially with, um...”

She’s far too polite to say, your presumed preexisting criminal record, Doc just hasn’t realized it yet. Not when she doesn’t know for sure whether it does exist or not. It’d be easy to help her along, but it’s kinda satisfying to watch her flounder, fishing for the pieces of him she does know.

“If it’s a problem,” she says finally, lifting her eyes to his. “You don’t have to--”

“The only problem is how hot that is, Doc.” He wraps a hand around the rail beside her, leaning in close enough that her eyes nearly cross watching him. “Are you gonna get into your old field hockey kit and punch a girl up there too?”

She blinks, heels clunking into the concrete rise. “I don’t think it would fit. The skirt would be too short, at least.”

Are you sure, he wants to say, stretching every last inch over her, but instead he rumbles, “Honey, you’re saying all the right things to me--”

“Hey.” A finger presses into his nose, hauling his words up short like a pileup. “No call list.”

“Ahh.” Her mouth twitches as he pulls back, rubbing at his nose. “Haah. You know I hate that.”

“Then stick to the list,” she informs him pleasantly. “Besides, are you really trying to flirt with a girl in front of her grandpa?”

“Well.” He holds up the tin, giving it an experimental shake. “You think they’d mind?”

There’s a quality to the silence in the stairwell that clues him in to the fact that he’s cocked up real good this time. First with the tomb joke, now asking if grandma might be watching from beyond the grave, objecting to his game. At least he knows he never had a chance; otherwise he’d have to go take his hopes out behind the woodshed--

“No,” she hums, confident. “They’d like you.”

It’s a good thing she doesn’t get it in her head to try the nose trick again; it’d push him right over. He can survive a lot, but four flights is pushing it. “Doc,” he huffs, scratching the bristle at the back of his head, “I don’t think--”

“Well...” She’s thoughtful when she puts her back to him, bouncing up the next couple of stairs. “Opa would. Oma would think you needed to be fattened up.”

He laughs, but even to his own ears it sounds busted up, wings broken. “Sounds like my kind of lady.”

“Ugh,” Doc sighs from one landing up. “She’d love that you said that.”

“That just makes her even more--”

“Don’t.”

RESTRICTED ACCESS, the doors says, bright red letters fading against the plastic sign. ALARM WILL SOUND.

Doc’s been bullish these last few flights, pushing a pace that makes him want to remind her he’s a hitter, not a runner, but now--

Now she shuffles on the stairs, daunted. “Do you think it will really...?”

Obi thinks this might be a private university, funded by mommy and daddy’s pockets to keep their babies safe, but alarms go off all the time. Unless this building has a rent-a-cop watching daytime TV down in the atrium right now, it could take hours for someone to answer the call, especially mid-afternoon on a Saturday.

“Who knows.” He’s not sure what she’s got up her sleeve that involves two dead people and a rooftop-- especially when even Doc is quick to admit it’s got at least a toe on the wrong side of legal-- but it probably won’t look good if they’re interrupted, even by the Diet Coke of the law enforcement vending machine. “Maybe you should plan to keep the fancy speeches to a minimum.”

“Eulogies.” Her thin fingers flex over ceramic, white where they press in. “You mean a eulogy.”

“Gesundheit.”

Doc turns her head, real slow, letting him soak in every drop of her disapproval. Well, that’s one pigtail successfully pulled.

With a breath so deep it makes her pea coat really earn the name, Doc nods. “Right. Okay. I think...”

Obi expects some dithering, some real soul-searching doubts being dragged out for airing right here in the stairwell. Doc likes that sort of thing, taking everything out of her head so she can fold it all up real nice again, but instead--

Instead she barrels across the landing, plowing right through the metal door, a whole stretch of gray winter sky stretching out before her. There’s one blink, two, and then-- well, the sign wasn’t kidding. The alarm does, in fact, sound.

He catches the door with a hand; it’s weighted, ready to swing right back into place and-- if he knows his doors-- lock right behind her. Not that it’d be a problem if he meant to stand around on the stairwell and act as look out; a role he’d be happy to play if that’s how Doc wanted this whole show to run. But right now she’s slumped at the ledge, every last ounce of her usual moxie wrung out.

Maybe she might tell him to stand back, that this is something she’s got to take on alone, but Obi knows every aching line of that pose by heart. A car can keep going for fifty miles once it hits empty, but that just means you’ll never know when the tank runs dry. That’s where she is right now, stalling out at her limit.

And that’s what he’s here for, to push her that last inch over the finish line. Besides, he can’t just stand back, not when he’s grandpa’s ride.

“So.” There’s a shim in a corner-- a naughty thing to have around an emergency door like this, but Obi’s not about to tattle. He’s perfectly happy to wedge someone else’s problem right where the paint’s flaked off the door. “What’s the problem?”

Doc blinks, one hand trembling on grandma’s lid. “W-what?”

He settles grandpa on the ledge, arms folded around him, taking in the sprawl of buildings below. Clarines isn’t as big as one of those state universities, but it makes Tanbarun look like a college playset instead of a campus. Both of them have those stuffy brick and marble buildings they like up here, the kind that say academic and too good for you loud and clear, but whereas Obi’s walked across Clarines for thirty minutes and still never hit the edge, it looks like he could lap this place in twenty. No wonder Doc was miserable here; the real mystery is how she managed an entire year in this fancy rat cage.

“There’s got to be one.” He knows better than to look at her; if he’s going to make her talking about feelings, the least he can do is give her the privacy to have them. “You were all gung-ho a minute ago, ready to do your thing even if you had to punch out a cop to do it--”

“--I didn’t say that,” she murmurs--

“--but now you’re just standing here.” He shrugs, chancing a glance from the corner of his eyes. “Looking lost.”

“I just...” She shifts, head twisting toward him, he doesn’t need to meet her gaze to know it’s wild, desperate. “It doesn’t feel right that they don’t go together.”

It’s his turn to stare now, lost. “O...kay.”

“What if...” Her teeth fold over her lip, worrying at places already worn. “What if I left them go, and they don’t find each other?”

“Ah...?” It seems like a bit of an oversight now, not asking what the plan is, but he ventures, “You mean...the ashes?”

Her mouth twists up, annoyance in every wrinkle. “It sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“No, no, I’m just...” He glances down at the tin between his arms. “I’m just putting things together. There’s nothing wrong about how you feel, Doc. Not like anyone’s really written a book about how this works.”

She looks up at him, so guileless. “Of course they have, Obi. There’s a whole section in the bookstore for it. It’s just that they’re all written by charlatans and quacks.”

Whatever the conversational version of whiplash is, Obi’s experiencing it now. For a minute all he can do is stare, taking in the abject disapproval rumpling her face, and then he-- he--

He laughs. Because this is what he’s into. The sort of person who pumps the breaks and spins the conversation 360 without even a courtesy ‘buckle up.’

“Listen, I’ve been thinking...” He taps the top of the tin, the metallic ting drowned out by the blare of the siren. “What if we just...mixed them? Then when you release them--”

“--They’re already together.” Doc blinks up at him, eye shining like he’s her savior, the center of her world, the answer to her cosmic question--

The way she really shouldn’t, when she already belongs to someone a hundred times better than he’ll ever be. Not when she’d never mean to get his hopes up.

“Thank you, Obi,” she breathes, a smile dawning on her lips. “That’s exactly what we need to do.”

Like all his good ideas, it’s easier said than done. On the ground, it’d been breezy, the sort of gentle push he’d come to expect from New England right before it got its first good snow, but up here--

“Here, take this.” Obi shrugs off his jacket, hurriedly pushing it into Doc’s boneless hands, but it’s too late-- they’ve already lost a bit of grandma. “Hold it up.”

She stares down at it, thumbs rubbing over the leather in a way that makes his shoulders itch. “Hold...?”

He swings out one arm-- the one not holding a geriatric-- yanking it wide. “Like a wind screen. I don’t want to lose Oma’s pinky toe or something.”

Doc blinks, stretching the coat between her hands. “Pinky toe?”

“Wouldn’t that make you cranky in the afterlife?” he asks, shaking more of Oma loose in a lull. “Losing a toe? Or a finger. Like just the last knuckle. A bit of your nose.”

The leather starts to ripple as the wind spins back up, and Doc stomps a foot down on the end of it to keep it from smacking up into his face. He appreciates the effort; it’s hard enough trying to pour from a large container to a small one without his zipper clocking him over the eyebrow. “Would that really matter?”

He shrugs. “To some people, probably. I got plenty of nose to spare.”

Doc mouth curves shyly, hunching down to hide behind his coat. “I think it’s fine just as it is.”

“Haah.” It’d be nice if she could give him a heads up when she plans to make his heart pound like that. “Think you might be the first to think that.”

“I don’t know,” she hums, eyes electric with some mischievous spark in their depths. “Maybe I’m the first to say so, but you certainly weren’t getting any complaints a few nights ago--”

He huffs. “Drunk college girls aren’t exactly arbiters of taste, Doc.”

She fixes him with that steady stare of hers, the one that’s so earnest it makes his heart make a bid for freedom through his throat. “I think,” she says, each word weighed before she lets it free, just like a good scientist, “that they did just fine.”

He smothers a whimper into a sigh. “Maybe your grandparents don’t mind me flirting,” he mutters, hunched over that stupid peanut butter tin, “but I’m sure they wouldn’t like you returning the favor.”

She blinks, head cocked. “Did you say something Obi?”

“No,” he says, just a little louder. “Just talking to myself.”

“You know--” he sets down the urn, wiping the sweat off his forehead-- “this would have been a lot easier going the other way.”

“We can’t.” Doc’s mouth twists up into that troublesome knot. “Opa always said he never wanted to be in one of those big fancy vases. And even if he would never know, I...”

Obi sighs, hanging his head. “Yeah, I know, I get it, just...complaining to complain. You know how it is.”

She stares down at him like he’s a fish on a dock telling her about the dangers of air. He shakes his head, stifling a laugh. Of course Doc wouldn’t get it; she could lose a limb and she’d still be thankful for the other three. Probably point out how much better things were now that she didn’t need to keep track of all of them. He might complain like it was as easy as breathing, but Doc-- Doc would take every last uncharitable thought to the grave.

Haah, give her some time. A few more months around him, and she’d discover some things to complain about. People always did.

“So,” he says, picking grandma back up. “Why here?”

Doc blinks. “Huh?”

“You know, on top of the roof of the campus center at one of the prestigious universities on the East Coast?” He raises a brow. “I know you used to go here, but most people just settle for leaving dog shit on the stoop when they want to send a ‘fuck you,’ you know.”

Doc unleashes a sound that can only be termed a squawk. “What? What do you mean most people--?” She shakes her head. “No, I don’t-- I mean, it’s not supposed to be a, um...”

“Fuck you?”

“Ah...yes. That.” She grimaces. “They met here. And when I tried to think of places they might want to be...”

Her words drift to a stop, but it’s gentle. They don’t abandon her, leaving her high and dry, but she just...stops saying them, letting the wind carry them away.

“I couldn’t think of any place else,” she admits, fingers tightening in the leather. “They always talked about Tanbarun so fondly, and I...I always thought it sounded like paradise.”

“But the roof?” Obi asks, incredulous. “Is it just easier to scatter the ashes, or...?”

“It’s where they met,” she repeats, like that makes any sense at all. “They used to have movie nights up here, played on one of those reel projectors,”

Her gaze swings out over the concrete like she could see it; all the hippy bean bags piled up, big screen pulled down and movie hardly able to be heard over the wind. Not a bad picture, he’ll admit. Wholesome, just like he’d expect out of the people who raised this Precious Moments doll of a person. Doesn’t really explain Mukaze, but well, shit happens. Half the people who raised him don’t deserve the person he’s become either. “Nice story.”

She’s hardly here with him, eyes hazy and distant, stuck in a past only she can see. “That’s what I always thought. I always wanted...” Her voice trails off again, but this time her smile falters, topping like china from a wobbling shelf. “I always wanted to have a story like that too. But it, um, didn’t really work out that way.”

He shouldn’t say anything. He’s not some neutral party, here to give her that impartial, unbiased pick-me-up she wants to hear, like telling her won’t rips a strip right off his back, so-- he should keep his big mouth shut.

But he’s never been good at any of that being smart shit. “It’s not like you didn’t have your own meet cute, it just wasn’t here. It was, er...”

Huh, now would you look at that. He’s never actually asked.

“At a record store,” she supplies slowly, like she has to think on it too. “Between the aisles after I missed my bus. No--” she laughs, more bitter than he’s ever heard her-- “after I chose to miss it.”

“See?” he hums, vibrating the knife deeper. “That’s already a good start.”

Her lips press thin. “I suppose...”

“No supposing about it.” He taps grandpa so the ashes sit flat before he starts another pour. “If I know anything about your Oma and your Opa-- and I don’t know nothing besides what you told me--” and what he saw a decade ago, sitting on that park bench-- “I don’t think they care whether you met your person at a rooftop movie or in a Walmart--”

“Record store.”

“They have CDs too,” he informs her, just as prim as Doc gets with him when she indulged the one pedantic bone in her body. “But the point is, they wouldn’t care where it happened, they just wanted you to find what they had.”

“I...” She deflates, the leather bowing over her legs. “I know. I think they used to worry that I wouldn’t, especially since I wasn’t really, ah...”

“Looking for it?” he offers.

She nods, relieved. “Yes, that. After my parents, I think they expected a much more, um, active interest in...anything. And I wasn’t.”

He doesn’t need to hear her say it to know that there’s more to it than that, that what she means to say is, and I don’t think they understood.

“Well, nothing for them to worry about anymore, is there?” She blinks up at him, alarmed, and he adds, “You and chief are kind of a done deal right?”

“Ah!” It’s hard to tell with the wind slapping both their cheeks red, but he could swear Doc’s blushing. “I don’t-- it’s not-- we haven’t really talked about--” she heaves a heavy, resigned sigh-- “I mean, I...I guess?”

“As done as it can be without getting PR involved.” He gives her the sort of eyebrow Kiki might. “I’m sure that if they’re out there floating on clouds or whatever, or, i don’t know, free energy in the universe, molecules just bumping around...they’re happy for you.”

“Right.” Her reply’s so faint he nearly misses it, but the wind that snatches it away carries it right by his ear. “Yeah.”

“All right, I think I’ve done as much as I can do.” Obi levers himself to his feet, brushing off his lap before handing her the tin. “You ready for this?”

Doc stares down at the canister, jaw set, the same way he’s sure it looked right before she threw herself out a window. Certainly looks the same way it did when she tried to bean Itoya with her purse.

“Yeah,” she breathes, fingers tightening around the metal. “I think I am.”

The wall’s not tall, but neither is Doc; she has to go up on tip-toe to throw an arm over it, the wind already pulling at the ashes laying loose at the top. Her brow furrows, mouth working for a good minute before she manages, “It’s time to say goodbye, I think.”

Obi stares. Sure, he’d said to keep it short and sweet, but if it’s taken this long for the rent-a-cop to hustle up, maybe she can spare the people who raised her more than--

“Thank you.” He’d thought it might be hard to hear her over both the alarm and the wind, but somehow all her words fly true, brightening the air. “For...everything. I don’t really know how you...”

Her breath catches, but her eyes are clear, no tears streaking down her face. “But that doesn’t matter, does it? You did everything and more. But I think...” She sniffs, taking a moment. “I think I can take it from here. I’ll miss you, Oma. And Opa...”

She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I forgive you. For whatever still needs forgiving. Rest well.”

Her hand tips, just the barest degree, and the ashes scatter, wind whipping them past, twisting high over the quad.

“Hey.” Obi steps up beside her, shrugging his coat on over his shoulders. If it’s a little gritty-- well, good thing Doc thing thinks Oma would like him so much, because part of her might linger until the next wash. “I’m pretty sure it’s super illegal to scatter human remains like this.”

“Oh,” Doc hums, shoulder bushing his arm. “It absolutely is without a permit. I was not joking about the slightly illegal thing.”

Obi grins. “Well good thing that no one ever came to check on the--”

As if summoned by the mere mention of potentially having something approaching good luck, the door bar rattles, accompanied by some creative cursing.

“Who the fuck is leaving this open?” A gruff yet feminine voice demands, as if she might be able to shake down the universe and pick up the answers from what fell out of its pockets if she just rattled it hard enough. “Bill, is it you? God, what did I say about using the roof for your smoke breaks--?”

The door swings all the way open, and there she is, a security guard with shoulders that could have dropped straight from the Lowen family tree. Obi would take a picture if he wasn’t sure that would get him thrown in the campus drunk tank.

She takes one glance at them, then another angrier one. “Who the fuck are you?”

“UM,” Doc shrills informatively.

“No, wait.” One broad hand waves in front of her. “I don’t care. What are you doing up here?”

Doc flounders in the face of authoritarian disappointment-- which is fine by Obi. This is his wheelhouse, after all. It’s nothing to reach out, cinching Doc’s waist against him, grin wide. “Sex, obviously.”

If it were possible for a body to choose the time and place of its expiration from this earthly dairy aisle, Doc’s mortified stare suggests she might curdle on the spot. “Obi.”

The guard’s glare is a study in skepticism, taking in the both of them, and then the concrete wasteland around them. “Here? With your clothes on?”

“It’s our kink.”

“Please,” Doc mutters against his shirt. “Don’t talk.”

The guard spares them one last weary look and sighs. “You know what? I don’t care. Just get out.”

Doc certainly doesn’t need to be told twice. Obi’s got his mouth open, what can’t you let us finish first about to spill right out, but her small hand clamps around his, and she drags him right off the roof.

“SORRY,” she yelps as they pass. “WON’T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN.”

“Yeah,” Obi agrees with a grin. “Next time we’ll fuck on some other roo--”

Doc pauses for one moment, just long enough to raise a finger and inform him “DON’T.”

This time he lets her drag him off, grinning.

They’re halfway down the stairs when Doc finally slows, her cheeks reaching a shade of red that looks more lipstick than lobster dinner. Her hand wraps tight around the rail, and it’s not until he saunters down the last couple steps to stand beside her that he realizes-- her eyes are screw tight, breath coming in ragged bursts.

“Hey,” he murmurs, trying to ignore the spark of alarm zipping under his skin. “Did you just realize we could have used the elevator?”

Her fingers, already wrapped tight around his palm, squeeze. “Obi...”

The muscles in his arm lock, the way he’s sure lizard tails do, right before they drop them off and run. “Doc?”

Her head turns toward him, and when her eyes flutter open, they’re bright, clear. “Thanks. For being there.”

“No. No, no,” he murmurs, his fingers spasming against hers. “You’ve got it all wrong. I should be the one thank you for letting me. No one...”

No one has ever asked me to be there, he doesn’t say. No one but you.

It’s too much when she’s looking at him like this, like he’s not just a stand-in but her first choice. Like there’s more to how he feels than some one-sided over-investment. It brings him so close to feeling like someone, like the kind of guy who might be her person--

And maybe he could have been, if he hadn’t let some asshole rip her right out her arms in the middle of the night. If he had a record of being something other than a professional disappointment.

The grin doesn’t sit right on his face when he says, “No one’s ever asked me to get rid of a dead body before.”

Doc blinks, then rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she sighs, tugging his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Back to the hotel?”

“Well,” she wheedles. “That. And I dropped the tin when the guard surprised us...”

“Ah I see.” He slips his hand from hers, grin finally sitting the way it should. “So we’re adding evidence removal and obstruction of justice to our list of crimes.”

She tips a dubious look back at him. “Are you complaining?”

“Doc,” he breathes, pressing a hand to his chest. “I would never. I’m touched that you would even think that I could--”

“Come on, Obi,” she laughs, hopping down the steps in front of him. “I’d like to do this sometime today.”

His mouth curls as he watches her back. “Your wish is my command.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #The Wide Florida Bay #modern au #ans #this has been a scene I've had on my radar since I started plotting out this fic #i knew that Tanbarun Arc needed to end with a request #but a request to come back to this old college didn't make sense #so i wanted to make it purposeful rather than a promise #an invitation to stay in her life #and I knew she'd cremate her grandparents #but hadn't done anything with the ashes #so i wanted to drop the hints in the sanddollar fic hoping someone would seize on it #but the sand dollar part proved too interesting 😂#though not to worry i'll be coming back to that part too #but when Yixin asked for this Joanna was like ASK HER IF SHE WANTS TO ASHES SCATTERING PART THOUGH #SO HERE WE ARE

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louiseleblancdiggory · 4 years ago

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Rowaelin massive fluff

As I said yesterday, I was writing a massive Rowaelin post filled with small fluffy scenes of them. Most are very domestic, and all are very lovely. My friend said it was better if I didn’t add smut to this, but I might write it if anyone has interest. Well, enjoy!!

Warnings: Cute

“He’s in love!” Fenrys was shouting out of the apartment windows.

Rowan had half a mind of going up to Fenrys and pushing him out, but was blessedly stopped by the apartment’s door opening and the rest of their friends filling in. Lorcan, Vaughan, Connall and Aedion stared strangely at Fenrys, as if the man had definitely gone mad this time.

“What the fuck?” Lorcan asked.

“He’s in love. He’s in love. He’s in looooooove.” Fenrys laughed maniacally, singing the last part.

Vaughan and Connall sat in the sofa in front of Rowan’s armchair while Aedion and Lorcan took the loveseat. The four kept looking at Fenrys, hoping for a better explanation. Fenrys, realizing the stares, grinned like a wolf and threw himself on Rowan.

“Get off of me, you stupid prick.” Rowan grunted, but Fenrys did nothing of the sorts. Instead he just sprawled himself more.

“Rowan is in love.”

Lorcan smiled humorously. “With you?”

Fenrys grinned. “Always. But I am actually talking about Galathynius.”

All eyes went immediately to Rowan’s face, and although he tried to control it, a dopey grin appeared on his lips. There was a chorus of grunts and pained moans, and both Rowan’s and Fenrys’s smiles grew.

“I’m not in love. I just really like her.” Rowan tried to say before Fenrys shoved his elbow into Rowan’s mouth.

“Shut the fuck up. If she asked you to walk in all fours you would. No questions asked.” Fenrys replied, earning laughs from everyone but Aedion who seemed to be in physical pain.

“I can’t believe that you and my cousin…” He shuddered. “I never want to know details. Never. I already miss the times you two despised each other.”

“Well those times are gone!” Fenrys announced, getting up and walking to the kitchen. He more hopped than walked, to be honest. He came back with a pile of red cups and a bottle of cheap champagne Lysandra had left here the other day.

Fenrys threw a cup at everyone, going around and filling it with the sparkly liquid. For Rowan, however, he just handed the bottle so he could drink whatever remained. Fenrys cleared his throat dramatically, and even with his face hurting from smiling so much, Rowan rolled his eyes.

“I have been, for years, trying to get these two together.” Fenrys announced and Rowan scoffed. The others laughed, undoubtedly remembering some of Fenrys’s attempts of making Rowan and Aelin get together. “And today, this man right here made my dreams come true.”

He grabbed Rowan’s shoulder with a hand, and when Rowan looked at the rest of the guys, he could see that all were trying very hard not to laugh.

“We kissed once, Fen.” Rowan tried saying.

“Nonetheless,” Fenrys shouted to drown Rowan’s words.” It is the start of something that I will not allow to be broken.”

Fenrys’s gaze went around the room, stopping at everyone’s eyes at once. Rowan bit the inside of his cheeks not to laugh, but nodded just the same when Fenrys looked at him. Seeming pleased with himself, Fenrys gave himself a nod.

“And so let’s celebrate tonight! Because today we celebrate what will one day be a long lasting and loving marriage!”

“Marriage?!” Aedion choked.

“Shut up!” Fenrys screamed. He took a deep breath before plastering a smile back on his face and raising his cup. “To Rowan and Aelin!”

All the guys were laughing their asses off, Vaughan had even tears rolling down his cheek, but all raised their drinks and all let out an animated shout.

——

4 years later

“Let me start this speech by saying that I was fucking right.” Fenrys said, earning a laugh from everyone in the party. Rowan shook his head, but Aelin was beaming by his side.

Rowan tore his eyes from his best man to look at the woman that was now his wife. She was smiling so much as Fenrys went on about being the one bringing the two of them together, that Rowan couldn’t help the smile on his own face. He put an arm around her shoulders, hugging her side as he gave her a kiss on her temple.

“I spent four years trying to get these two together, and four years ago Rowan finally put his big boy’s undies on and kissed the girl.” Rowan scolded at Fenrys’s words, but Aelin laughed freely.

“She could have kissed me!” Rowan shouted.

“Shush, I like where this is going.” Aelin said, giving him a playful slap on the chest.

“Yeah, Rowan, shush.” Fenrys winked at the newly-wed, and Rowan could only roll his eyes as everyone else laughed. If he had been hoping for a serious best man speech, then he should have chosen someone else to be his best man. “But, despite me being right as per usual, the night is not about me and my intelligence. Unfortunately.”

“I should have picked another best man.” Rowan muttered against Aelin’s hair. Although he couldn’t see it, he knew she was smiling.

“I think Fen would have died. After killing you, of course.” She muttered back, putting her hand on top of his on the table. She rested against his side, raising her head to give him a quick kiss on his jawline. “Besides, he’s your best friend.”

Rowan simply grunted as Fenrys went on with his speech. His voice went unbelievably soft, and he gave Rowan and Aelin a serene smile. “No, tonight is about Rowan and Aelin. Just so everyone here knows, the two of them are so in love. I mean, they are getting married so everyone knows that they love each other, but I don’t believe everyone knows to what extent. For you to have an idea, you see that dopey grin Rowan has because he is hugging his wife? Well, he has had that same grin since their first kiss.”

At that, Aelin looked up at Rowan at the same time he looked down on her. Her eyes were brimmed with tears, and Rowan cupped her face to give her a soft kiss as Fenrys continued his speech.

“I saw the two of them falling in love. It was beautiful, the type of shit you see in movies. It was slow, and natural, and so pure that there was no doubt in this universe that the would end up together forever. Rowan, I have been your best friend for twenty seven years now. I knew you since before we were one, and I had the immense pleasure of being by your side during most important moments of your life. I saw you travel the world, get into college. I saw you have hundreds of stupid adventures during your teenage years, saw you have hundreds of dreams throughout your whole life. I saw everything, from the best to the worst, and yet I can’t remember one single memory in which you seemed happier than when you simply look at Ace.”

Moments ago, the whole party had been laughing at Fen’s jokes. Now, there was a sweet silence, all the guests looking at Rowan and Aelin.

Rowan felt his throat constricting, and gripped Aelin’s hand harder as she melted even more against his side.

“In all you adventures, all your dreams, I am so, so happy you found Aelin to be the greatest of them all, Ro. Because a love like the two of you have? That’s a one in a billion, man. You found what everyone looks for their whole life, and you are so unbelievably lucky that you are also Ace’s greatest dream. You deserve each other. You deserved the four amazing years prior to this night. You deserve the beautiful wedding, the people here to witness your love. And I am sure that you deserve the next decades together, the good and the bad, the funny situations and the sad ones. You deserve to be together through them because I don’t think there is any other way the two of you can overcome the hardships of life if not together. I never believed in soulmates, but if I did, it would be you, Aelin and Rowan. Because there is no Rowan without Aelin, and no Aelin without Rowan. Not anymore.”

Aelin was fully crying now, just as she had been during Lysandra’s speech, and Rowan also felt his eyes watering even though no tears came out. He raised his glass the same time Fenrys raised his. The two of them shared a knowing smile before Fenrys turned to the whole party, willing them to raise their own glasses.

“To Aelin and Rowan! Let their love last until they draw their last breath!”

Everyone screamed and shouted merrily, drinking down the champagne in big gulps. Rowan took a single sip, offering the rest to Aelin who was still resting against his side. She raised her head, taking the glass and drinking a small sip before setting the glass down. She turned to him, taking his face in between her hands.

When Aelin smiled at Rowan, his heart seemed as if it was going to burst inside his chest. Even in tears, Aelin was the most radiant thing he had ever laid his eyes on. She was so beautiful that sometimes Rowan would wake up earlier just to look at her while she slept. Since the beginning, Aelin had been like a magnet, and Rowan couldn’t help but feel pulled towards her.

He cupped her face back, thumb brushing over the tears as he bent down to kiss her. She met him halfway, smiling into the kiss. Her hands sneaked from his face to the back of his neck, going down his back until she was hugging him. Rowan felt Aelin’s body flushed against his, and his smile only widened when she laughed against his mouth. “I love you so much, Ro. I can’t explain how much I love you.”

He withdrew a little, resting his forehead against hers. Their eyes were closed, but they knew that both were smiling. “I love you too, Ace. I love you so, so much.”

When he opened his eyes, he saw Aelin already staring at him. Her smile became soft, another single tear falling down her cheek. Rowan kissed it away, pulling her deeper into his arms. She sat on his hap, face burrowed in the crook of his neck. She brushed her nose against his throat as his hands went up and down her back. They stayed like this for a while before getting up to enjoy the rest of the party.

To enjoy the rest of their lives.

———

Rowan had gotten rid of his tie and blazer hours ago, and Aelin’s hair was a mess of curls and pearls as the night went by.

She laughed merrily when Rowan spun her around and then pulled her back into his arms. Her white and silver dress caught in the light, and it made her seem like a star while she danced animatedly with her husband.

Her back hit his chest, and his arms sneaked around her body, hugging her body against his. She had forgone her heels a while ago, and so the top of her head only reached his neck. Rowan bent down to whisper on her ear, his smile as bright as Aelin’s.

“Mrs. Galathynius-Whitethorn.”

She giggled. “You’ve said this a thousand times in the last hours.”

“You’re my wife.” The dopey grin Fenrys had cited earlier took over his lips.

Aelin bit her cheeks to keep another giggle in. “I am.”

“You are legally bound to me.” He sounded so dreamy that Aelin couldn’t help but titter.

She turned in his arms, looking up at him as her arms hugged his neck. “And you are legally bound to me. Forever, buzzard.”

He nodded, kissing her before retreating, the smile never leaving his face. “I am married to the same woman that said she would rather die before being alone in a room with me.”

Aelin scoffed, rolling her eyes. “That was years ago.”

“I seduced you.” Rowan said, ignoring Aelin’s words. He looked so smug that Aelin narrowed her eyes.

“Be quiet.”

“I seduced you so bad that you married me.” He kept ignoring her, his expression more and more complacent.

“I will divorce you.”

“My amazing personality and incredible techniques in bed convinced the most stubborn human being in the world to change her mind.” He had a shit-eating grin on his mouth now, looking down at her extremely pleased with himself.

“Definitely more your dick than you brain, love.” Aelin singsonged, and Rowan narrowed his eyes at her.

He grabbed Aelin in his arms, bringing her up against his body until their mouths were at the same level. He kissed her, tongue sweeping over her lower lip. Aelin let out a small whimper, opening her mouth against his. As Rowan’s lips moved lazily against hers, he muttered. “Liar.”

She opened her eyes, staring at his pine green eyes until both of them were smiling. She nodded, one hand cupping his face as her thumb stroked his cheek. “I do love you, though.”

He nodded too, hugging her more strongly against his body. “I love you too, Mrs. Galathynius-Whitethorn.”

Rowan felt his face hurting from smiling so much at her answering chortles.

Aelin laid her head on his shoulder, ignoring the party around them as she breathed her husband in. His pine and snow scent had always reminded her pf her childhood, of her home. Maybe it had been the universe’s way of showing her, since the beginning, that Rowan was destined to be her end point, her permanent home. Every day with him had her thinking that she couldn’t be happier, couldn’t fall deeper in love. And yet, every night Aelin went to sleep, she loved him more than she had in the morning, and every morning when Aelin woke up in between Rowan’a arms, she loved him more than she had in the previous night.

There was a difference between falling in love and loving someone, she realized. A difference between the passion and the feeling of being home. The burning from inside out and the warmth that took over her body whenever she was near Rowan. A difference between knowing she would wake up every day and fall in love with him again, but that loving him would be forever, never needing to start again.

Falling in love had been hot and intense, but loving him was calm and welcoming. The intensity of passion morphed into the unbreakable feeling of being safe, of being welcomed. Aelin would constantly be falling in love with her husband, but she couldn’t help but be glad about the already established love she felt and how good it felt.

As Rowan held her in his arms, her beautiful wedding gown brushing against the floor, she couldn’t help but feel like she had reached the peak of love, the peak of happiness. She couldn’t help but believe that if she loved him a little more, she would burst.

And yet she also knew that, as always, she would wake up the next morning a love him a little more.

“Mr. Galathynius-Whitethorn.” She whispered, and she only knew he had heard when his arms crushed her against him, face burrowing in the crook of her neck.

————

“Ro!” Aelin called, her bare foot sounding against the wood floor as she went around their new house looking for her husband. They had just moved out of their apartment into the new house a two days ago, and neither of them seemed too excited about organizing everything. “Ro!”

She reached the living room, seeing Rowan sitting on the couch, a laptop in front of him. He was typing lazily, eyes squinted behind his glasses. He tore his eyes from the screen, looking Aelin up until his gaze landed on her face. A small smile took over his lips, and he closed his laptop, setting it on the coffee table in front of him.

“What happened?”

“The shower.” Aelin grunted, walking in his direction. She stopped in the middle of his legs, crossing her arms. “It’s not working properly. I’ve been trying to fix for thirty minutes now.”

Rowan scoffed, pulling Aelin by her elbows until she was straddling his hips. “And?”

“And I need help.” She said impatiently, but she did put her arms around his shoulders, fingers playing with his silver hair in the back of his head.

“What do you need a shower for, anyways?” Rowan asked, nose grazing her neck.

Aelin fought a smile. “Take a fucking wild guess. I’m all sweaty and disgusting.”

His grazing evolved into small kisses, and despite her best intentions, Aelin arched her neck back slightly. “You’re not disgusting. And I don’t exactly mind the other one.”

Aelin laughed, taking his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. He had a smile on his lips, and she couldn’t help but smile back. “Fenrys and Lysandra were very nice in throwing us a two anniversary party. A party that starts in three hours. Meaning I have to shower.”

“Or we could ditch it and spend our anniversary in bed.” Rowan mumbled, hands gripping her hips.

“We don’t have a bed yet.” Aelin replied, brows raising.

“I can fuck you in the couch just fine too.”

Aelin laughed again, quickly leaving his lap before he convinced her that his idea was the best one. He narrowed his eyes at her, and Aelin must gave him a saccharine smile. “Party. We are going to the party.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Sounds like you have to help me with the shower.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, but he got up. Aelin turned to walk to their bathroom when she felt Rowan’s arms coming around her chest. She rested her head against his chest as they tried to walk to the bathroom. In a matter of moments they became a mess of legs getting in the way of one another, and Aelin could only try to hold herself up as she felt them falling. Rowan hugged her and turned his body so Aelin wouldn’t hit the ground.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds after falling, opening them to find Rowan staring at her face.

They looked at each other in silence before both started laughing uncontrollably. Rowan’s arms were around her waist, and Aelin fixed Rowan’s glasses on his face while she laid on top of him. She could feel his body shaking with laughter, and her own laughs got more intense due to the happiness in his. Her hands here playing with the strands of hair that fell on his face, and as the laughter gave out, Aelin smiled down at Rowan.

He smiled back at her, the hands on her hips making sweet circles against her skin. Aelin leaned down, brushing her nose against his before giving him a soft kiss.

“Are you hurt?”

“If I say yes, do we stay home all night?” Rowan asked, a knowing smile on his lips. He winked at her and Aelin shook her head, a single laugh coming out of her.

“No, but I will refuse to do any activities after the party that can worsen your condition.”

Rowan grunted, sitting up with Aelin on his lap. He rested his back against the wall. “In this case, I never been better.”

Aelin scrunched her nose quickly, giving Rowan another kiss before standing up. His hands gripped her thighs and he looked up at her. He had an ironic smile on his face, and it only grew when Aelin shook her head and sat back down.

“So predictable.” Rowan mused and laughed when Aelin gave him a playful slap on the shoulder.

“Shut it. I’m your wife for two years. It would be an absurd if somethings weren’t already predictable.” She tried to sound angry, but the pulling in her mouth gave her away. “We are going to that party.”

Rowan nodded solemnly. “Later, though. The shower can wait.”

Aelin didn’t have the chance to reply before Rowan’s hands tangled in her hair, pulling her in. His mouth was hot and soft against hers, and Aelin felt herself melting against his body as his lips moved against hers. Even after years together, kissing Rowan was still one of the best experiences of her life. His mouth was like heaven, and whenever he kissed her, all other thoughts fled from her head.

Rowan and Aelin remained seated in that corridor for the next hour, boxes full with their lives all around them. It would take weeks until they managed to get through all of them, but neither was worried about that at the moment. Instead, they just kissed, touching each other, loving each other.

It was only when Rowan’s phone rang that Aelin drew back, eyes wide at the time. She got up quickly while Rowan cursed the stupid phone.

“The shower!” Aelin said, rushing to the bathroom.

Rowan grunted, getting up. He sighed, walking after his wife. “I need a shower now. A cold one.”

———

“Are you sure this is right?” Aelin crunched her nose, bending down to look at the pot in front of them. “I don’t think this is the right color. It’s supposed to be beige.”

“What the fuck is beige?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Aelin looked at her husband, his confused expression matching her own. “The color beige.”

Rowan just stared at her.

“Aren’t you an architect? How the hell do you not know what beige is?”

Rowan grunted, ignoring her question and going back to the recipe in front of him. He red it once more, looking around the mess they had created in the kitchen. It was impossible to know if they had used the right measurements and ingredients, because the measuring cups were all around the place. Flour, sugar and cocoa powder smeared against the kitchen island, floor and even some cupboards. It looked like a hurricane had hit their kitchen.

“We don’t know how to cook, Ace. Let’s give up.”

“Give up?” She almost shouted, incredulous. “If I can create seven marketing campaigns in less than a week and you can build a building with a hundred floors, thousands of rooms and make that shit safe, we can bake a goddamn can.”

Rowan had to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from laughing. He shook his head, looking up and down his wife. She was as dirty as the kitchen, sugar and cocoa powder all over her.

She looked at him, eyes narrowing at his expression. “What?”

Rowan didn’t know if it was her expression, the anger in her words or her appearance, but he couldn’t help but start laughing. He was laughing so much that he had to grip the island while he doubled over, flour falling from his hair. He saw his reflection in one of the windows, which only caused him to laugh more.

Aelin was strangely quiet, and when Rowan looked up to see if she was a little pissed or majorly pissed, he received a blow of flour right to his face.

His laughter was immediately ended, and he took a step back. He was so shocked that it took him a moment to realize what had happened. He looked at Aelin, his wife with a smug smile on her face and a hand completely engulfed by flour. She pressed her lips against one another, nodding to herself. “You know what? This is funny. I understand you laughing.”

Rowan gave her a dangerous smile, taking off his glasses and sweeping a hand over his face. When she turned back to the recipe, Rowan grabbed one of the sugar bags on the counter.

“Enough of the jokes, Ace. If you want to do this cake, focus on the cake.” He said, stepping behind her and looking over her shoulder at the recipe. She nodded, reading the instructions.

Even though she couldn’t see it, Rowan smiled as he raised his hand holding the sugar bag and turned it upside down right on top of Aelin’s head.

She let out a screech, immediately turning around to face Rowan. She cleaned her eyes angrily, tilting her head back to glare at him.

“I am becoming a widow today.”

He chuckled, grabbing a handful of cocoa powder when he saw her reaching behind her to grab some more flour. They threw the ingredients at each other at the same time, the air becoming misty.

Rowan could barely see what was happening, and he could only have an idea where Aelin was based on the sound of her loud chortles. He himself was laughing too, throwing more sugar in the direction he thought she was.

Suddenly, she went quiet. Rowan looked around, the air still clearing from all the cocoa, flour and sugar thrown around. He had a hand full of sugar and was about to call for Aelin’s name when he felt something cold and wet being thrown on top of his head.

“Bloody fucking hell.” He screamed, turning around to see Aelin holding the pot they had been using to make the cake. She was laughing so hard that tears were streaking her cheeks, extremely evident as they made their path through the cocoa powder on her face. She let go of the pot, taking careful steps back when she saw the expression on Rowan’s face. She tried to control her laughs, raising her hands. “Truce?”

“Fuck truce.” Rowan said, taking big steps to catch her. Aelin tried running, but she didn’t got two steps before Rowan’s arm sneaked around her waist. Her back hit his chest, and although she knew she shouldn’t, Aelin couldn’t stop laughing.

Rowan turned her around, pinning her back to the fridge and her chest against his. He reached back an arm, coming back with the full bag of cocoa powder and dropping it on top of Aelin’s head. She coughed as she laughed, shaking her head to make it all fall down.

When she looked up, her whole face was dirty. “You’re a terrible cooker.”

“You started.” Rowan said, looking at his reflection on the fridge and knowing he wasn’t much better than Aelin.

“You’re older. You’re supposed to be the responsible one.” She said, hands on his shoulders. She brushed some sugar off, doing the same with his face.

“The responsible thing to do is never let you cook again.”

She snickered, giving him a sarcastic expression. “I would have done just fine if it wasn’t for you.”

“Me?” He raised his brows, a half smile on his lips. “This mess is my fault?”

“Uh-hum.” She muttered, raising on her tip toes to kiss his jaw line. She peppered his jaw with open mouthed kissed, tongue sweeping over his skin. “If you didn’t have a terrible concentration and got distracted by me, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Oh?” He said, pressing her more against the fridge. His hands went from her waist to the back of her thighs, fingers squeezing her skin. “Aren’t you the one distracted?”

She kissed the hollow of his throat, going up his neck with the tip of her tongue. She went all the way to his earlobe, biting it gently. “No.”

Rowan hauled her up, Aelin’s legs going around his waist. “My bad then.”

Aelin smiled as she there her head back, Rowan’s mouth on her neck and the cake they were supposed to do absolutely forgotten.

———

“Ro. Ro.” Aelin shook her husband. “Rowan. Love.”

Rowan slowly opened his eyes, gaze immediately falling on the woman sitting down on they bed. Her hair was a mess, and the moonlight filtering through the curtains made her creamy skin glow. Her eyes were shining as always, the turquoise and gold looking like they irradiated light.

“Did something happen?” He grumbled, turning his body so he could rest his face on his wife’s lap. His arms went around her waist, and although he could feel her impatience, her hands started playing softly with his hair.

“It’s snowing.” She whispered.

“Ok?” He asked, more awake now. He looked up to see Aelin beaming down at him.

“Want to go play?” She looked so excited that if Rowan hadn’t been laying on her lap, she would probably be jumping up and down the bed.

“Now?” He said, slowly. She nodded animatedly, and although it was three in the morning, Rowan couldn’t bring himself to say no. He just grumbled, getting up.

Aelin let out an excited squeak, rushing to their closet to put on her winter clothes. Aelin had always loved winter, every year waiting for the perfect snowfall to go play outside as if she was a kid. Rowan had never been as spontaneous, even when he was younger, but he had to admit that hearing Aelin’s delighted laughs as she threw snowballs at him was the closest thing to heaven he had ever witnessed.

He got dressed slowly, and the moment he finished putting his boots on, Aelin grabbed his hand and pulled him to the backyard. Rowan had to walk faster to match her steps, a smile already taking over his face at his wife’s excitement.

She giggled happily the moment she stepped outside, arms wide open as she looked up. Snowflakes immediately covered her honey-gold hair, a few on her lashes too. She opened her eyes and looked at Rowan. He had been resting against the threshold, arms crossed and a grin on his face as he watched Aelin.

She extended a hand to him, and he grabbed it, pulling her into a hug. “Are you happy, Ro?”

He rested his chin on top of her head. “Yes, of course I am.”

“I don’t mean only about this. I mean about us, about our marriage.” She looked up at him, fingers brushing away a strand of hair from his temple.

He cupped her face, cleaning her cheeks and eyes from the snowflakes. When she opened her eyes again after the swept his thumbs lightly over it, Aelin found Rowan smiling down at her. It wasn’t the grin from moments ago, of the smile he usually gave her whenever she entered a room. No, this one was the smile he gave her whenever he wanted her to know how deeply in love he was with her.

“I can’t imagine a life that would make me happier, Ace. I can’t even believe how happy I am in this one.”

She nodded, bitting her lower lip. “It’s just that I love you so much that it’s sometimes hard to believe that you can possibly love me as much.”

Rowan hugged her tightly against his body, her chin against his chest as she looked up at him. “I can’t explain how much I love you, Fireheart. I can’t explain how happy just being around you makes me. We’ve been married for more than two years, together for even longer, and having you for myself still feels like a sacrilege.”

She gave him a small smile. “A sacrilege?”

He nodded, grinning down at her. “The biggest one.”

“Do you believe you have violated something sacred, Ro?”

He held her face I both hands, fingers tangling in her hair. “Having all of you, Ace. It feels like a sacrilege to know that you are mine, and only mine. Maybe it’s a violation to get you all for myself, nothing left for the rest of the world.”

Aelin’s fingers squeezed his waist, and she had a beaming smile as she raised herself to kiss him. Rowan’s mouth seemed even hotter due to the cold weather, and Aelin realized the if she could lose herself in him, she would. If she could spend the rest of her days feeling his soft mouth moving lovingly against hers, his tongue brushing hers, she wouldn’t hesitate in saying yes.

“Loving you is sacrilegious, Ace.” He breathed against her mouth.

“Loving you is sacred, Ro.” She breathed back.

—————

Aelin relaxed against her husband’s chest, her head resting on his shoulder.

He kissed her cheek, hand on her bent knee. Aelin’s hands were playing with the misty water in the bathtub, drawing small circles with a single finger.

Rowan’s arms were embracing her against his body, and he was humming softly.

“Ro?” She said, voce somewhat tense.

Rowan immediately opened his eyes, trying to see her face. “Yeah?”

“We need to talk.” She said, fingers playing more agitatedly on the water. “Can I ask you something?”

Rowan’s heart constricted, and he felt his throat twisting. Something like terror was creeping up his veins, and he had to clear his throat and blink a few times. He gripped Aelin more strongly, as if he could stop what was about to happen from actually happening. The best way to stop it was from showing her why this was a terrible idea before she even started explaining the whys, before she started breaking his heart.

“Do you want a divorce?” Rowan asked before she could say anything, voice so low he could barely hear his own words.

Apparently, Aelin had heard them without a problem, because she immediately sat up, turning around to look at him. Where she had been sitting moment ago with her back against his chest, she was know kneeling, looking at him. Her face was crumpled in worry and pain, and she could feel her eyes watering.

“What?” Her voice sounded small, sounded so careful. “You want a divorce? I— I thought we were fine. I thought we were happy.”

She bit her lower lip, trying to control the tears. She honestly thought everything had been fine, that he still loved her but if he wanted a divorce, didn’t even want to give them a chance to fix things, then maybe she had been blind the last few—

“What? No!” Rowan sat up, eyes wide and voice frantic. “No. No, of course I don’t want a divorce. I thought you wanted one.”

She felt a single tear falling down her cheek. She furrowed her brows, crossing her arms. “Why the fuck would you think that?”

“You sounded as if you were about to say exactly that when you came with the whole ‘we need to talk’ speech.” Rowan answered, clenching his fist to not reach forward and wipe Aelin’s tear away. He hated when she cried, and he had never been the reason for it before. It was tearing him apart inside.

“No, of course not.” Aelin shook her head, staring at Rowan. “Of course I don’t want to divorce you. That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard you say.”

Despite the situation, Rowan felt his whole body relaxing. His racing mind came to a stop, and he felt like he could breath again. Of course she didn’t want a divorce, of course things were fine. They hadn’t argued in months, and they were genuinely happy. Rowan had been crazy in even considering that.

“I’m sorry.” She said, coming a little closer to Rowan. “I didn’t think you would think I wanted to end things when I said we needed to talk. I should have worded it better. I don’t want to talk about anything bad, it’s a different topic.”

Rowan nodded, relief setting even deeper into his body. He pulled Aelin in, hugging her. She rested her chest against his, head on the crook of his neck. Aelin could feel her body relaxing against Rowan’s, could feel the blinding fear leaving her body. The prospect of losing Rowan was terrifying, and she had never been more relieved then when Rowan explained he had no interest in divorcing her.

“I’m sorry, Ace. I should have been more delicate about it. I should have let you talk.” His hands went up and down her spine, half to calm her down and half to show both of them that they were still together, that they still had each other. “I’m so, so sorry, love. I didn’t mean to make you scared or sad.”

Aelin simply nodded, bitting her lip. “I don’t want a divorce, I want a baby.”

Rowan tensed beneath her, and Aelin felt herself become tense. She wanted to have this conversation for weeks now, but she never knew the best way to bring it up. Obviously, the one she had chosen wasn’t the best.

“I want us to have a baby. I know we never talked about it before, and that we’re still young but I want a baby. I want a baby so bad, Ro. I’ve been trying to talk to you about this for weeks now, and I will completely understand if you don’t want it. You’re thirty and I’m still twenty six, we have time, but…” She said it too rushed, the last words trailing down.

When Rowan didn’t say anything, Aelin slowly raised her face. She was nervous to look at his expression, but all worries vanished from her body when she found Rowan beaming at her. Incapable of holding herself back, she beamed back at him. “Can we have a baby?”

Rowan laughed, hugging Aelin until she was breathless. He gripped her face, kissing her strongly before drawing back and laughing some more. “Yes. Yes, we can have a fucking baby. No to divorce, yes to baby. Fucking Gods, yeah we can add a new person to the family.”

Aelin laughed with him, the tense mood immediately disappearing. “No to divorce, yes to baby.”

———

“Mrs. Whitethorn?” Maeve, Rowan’s coworker at the agency, asked. She had a puzzled look on her face. “Is everything all right? Do you need help?”

Aelin knew how she looked. She had ran here, too anxious to risk the chance of getting caught in traffic. Her hair must have been a mess, the winter clothes he had on looking all disheveled. She was breathing hard, a hand over her heart. “Is my husband in?”

“Yeah, he’s finishing a meeting with Gavriel and Lorcan. Everyone else already left.” Maeve said, getting up. She offered Aelin a hand, expression washed in worry. “Are you sure everything is ok?”

“It’s January.” Aelin said as if that explained it all.

“Ok…” Maeve said cautiously.

“Me and Rowan started dating in January.”

“Is today some sort of celebration?” Maeve asked, a smile on her lips.

“No, no.” Aelin said, trying to control her breathing. Maeve looked so confused that Aelin calmed herself down enough to explain. “It was so unexpected that for the past seven years January is the month we have our little competition. Whoever surprises the other the most wins. It’s a joke regarding how surprised people were when they discovered about us.”

Aelin didn’t tell her the prize the winner won.

Maeve laughed, finally understanding what was going on. “And I assume you have something surprising for him.”

Aelin nodded, a smirk on her face. “It’s the last day of the month and. I can’t tell him by phone, and if I called him to come home instead of going out with the guys, he would refuse just so I would only be able to tell him tomorrow. In February. Rowan thought he had won with the surprise trip for Italy during spring break.”

“But no?” Maeve seemed extremely interested in their little game.

Aelin shook her head, and the moment she opened her mouth, she saw a door opening and her husband coming out with Gavriel and Lorcan behind him. He took a few seconds to realize that Aelin was standing there with Maeve, but the moment he noticed her, his face was washed with confusion and worry.

“Is everything all right, Ace?”

Aeling laughed almost maniacally. “You lost.”

“What?” He approached her slowly.

“You lost this year.” She grinned brightly and animatedly. “You fucking lost, dipshit.”

Aelin heard Maeve choking on laughter as she left the room, and even Lorcan and Gavriel smiled at that even though they had no idea what was going on.

“The hell you mean, Aelin?”

“You thought the trip would be the biggest surprise? Idiot.” She laughed again, and now that Rowan finally understood, he narrowed his eyes.

“It was.” He declared.

“No, no, dear husband. Because I know something you don’t, thus it is a surprise. So, so much bigger than yours.”

Rowan crossed his arms, tapping his foot on the floor. “Oh, yeah? What is it then?”

Aelin’s grin became a full smile, and she was beaming as she continued. “I’m pregnant.”

Rowan looked at her in silence for what seemed an eternity. He looked down her belly and then up her face, a huge smile breaking on his face. He laughed just as hard as she had. He ran up to her, grabbing her in his arms. Rowan spun her around as they both laughed, Aelin’s arms going around his neck to hug him back.

“I’m gonna be a dad.” He announced, and smile even harder when Aelin nodded. Rowan turned to Gavriel and Lorcan who were smiling at them. “I’m gonna be a fucking dad!”

The two men laughed, muttering their congratulations. Rowan hugged Aelin more tightly, peppering her face and neck with fast and lovingly kissed.

“We are going to be parents.” Rowan said, voice full of joy as he looked down at Aelin’s stomach.

Aelin nodded, tears swelling in her eyes. “We will.”

“We made a baby. We are going to have a baby.” He sounded so amazed by the words that Aelin laughed again.

“Yeah. Yeah, we will, love.” She said, voice soft and gentle. Rowan raised his head to look at her, and Aelin could see the tears brimming his eyes. She cupped his face, kissing him before laughing against his mouth. “We are going to be a mom and dad.”

Rowan rested his forehead against Aelin’s, one hand on her stomach and the other one in the back of her neck.

When he heard her voice again, Rowan opened his eyes to stare at the turquoise and gold staring back at him. She gave him a smug smile full of hidden meaning. “I won. And I know exactly what I want.”

———

“What is all this?” Aelin asked, a smile on her face. She entered the living room, loosing at the lights hung from the ceiling. They casted a yellowish hue to the whole room. The furniture had been move away, and now the room had a huge empty spot in the middle.

Rowan came from behind her, embracing her body. “As much as I loved our second anniversary party, this year we’re staying at home.” He said against her ear, giving her a small kiss. “Alone.”

“The baby.”

“Alone with the baby.” Rowan corrected, a hand going down to Aelin’s stomach.

Rowan let go of her, walking up to an old victrola. He turned it on, the vinyl immediately turning. A soft melody filled to room, and Aelin smiled as she recognized the song.

“Nostalgic?” Aelin asked, walking up to Rowan.

He took her in his arms, one hand around her waist, the other one holding hers. Her free hand went to his shoulder, and they slowly swayed around the room under the melody of the song they danced during their wedding party.

“Whenever I’m stressed at work I listen to it.” Rowan said, a small smile on his lips as he looked down at Aelin. “Remembering our wedding night always makes me calm.”

Aelin matched his smile, gripping his hand and shoulder more tightly. She closed her eyes, focusing on Rowan’s touch and the melody only. “I love this song.”

“I love you.” Was all Rowan replied.

Aelin kept dancing, the melody and the movements so peaceful, so tranquil, that she felt as if she was floating. She felt her smile becoming more serene, and when she opened her eyes, Aelin looked at Rowan reverently. “I love you.”

Rowan nodded, and Aelin laid her head on his chest as the two celebrated another year together.

A year that had so many memories that they would tell their kids, so many memories that they would tell their grandkids.

Memories that they would remind each other, memories that they would whisper against each other’s skin.

And so Aelin and Rowan danced throughout the whole night. Danced alone for hours and hours.

Well, alone with the baby.

Tags:

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @bluejaberry @multifandommessblog @yesdreamblog @abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @maastrash @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass @heirofthenightcourt

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joontier · 4 years ago

Text

Parallel Palpitations | V1; report i

pairings: dr. park jimin x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: romance, slice of life, humor

warnings: none to note

word count: 2k

g/n: this is just an intro basically ksjdfksjdf but i’d also like to inform yalls this coincides with the Subliminal in Scrubs universe (jk’s installment of TWA)

Parallel Palpitations (the records) | navi. | m.list

Closing his locker with his foot, Jimin tries to carefully balance his books placed precariously on top of each other in his arms as he walks back to the dean’s office where he’s also arranging most of his stuff to take home. It’s already been a week since he’d officially graduated medicine from Busan National University, and he had only kept going back to school to gather all his belongings so he could start reviewing.

“Jimin, is that you?” The question almost knocks clumsy Jimin off his feet, surprised at how there was still any other person in the office besides Kyungjo who was also collecting his stuff to take home. Jimin sets all of his books down first on a desk and turns, only to come face to face with none other than Jeon Jungmin himself, associate professor and chairman of the Jeon Medical Center.

“Professor Jeon! Good evening Sir...It’s already late, professor?”

Jeon Jungmin laughs, patting Jimin on the back, “I was going to say the same to you kid. You should go home.” Jimin flashes the older man a small smile, “Ah...yes, Professor. I’m just grabbing the last of my stuff then I’ll be on my way. This won’t take long.”

“It’s fine, Jimin. The staff know you well anyways,” Jungmin sighs, then rests his weight on a pillar as he puts his hands in his pockets. “You know, Jimin...you’re a very bright student...I think even one of the best in Korea if I do say so myself.”

The young man momentarily pauses with what he’s doing, taking in the professor’s words, “Oh, I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration, Sir.”

Jungmin chuckles as he shakes his head. “It’s true - you’re driven and you’re smart. It’s a fixed formula for someone who achieves great success in life later on. Your parents must be very proud. I would be too, if you were my son too.”

“Thank you, Professor. Everything I do, I do for my parents.”

The older man lets out a deep exhale and gives Jimin another pat on the back. “Just wanted to let you know that you’re going to be a fine doctor Jimin - and the Jeon Medical Center would definitely need fine doctors like you. I realized I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I really hope you will choose JMC for your post-graduate internship. We have a good program here,” Jungmin’s voice goes down to a whisper, “If you wish to, just let me know…”

Someone enters the office and bows to the both of them and recognizes the same man as the professor’s driver. The man collects the professor’s briefcase and coat with one nod of Jungmin. “Well, I’ll head off first, Jimin. I can give you a ride home if you’re done with those.”

Jimin shakes his head quickly, declining the one and only Jeon Jungmin’s generous offer. He’s unsure about the other offer though, but if he lets himself get a car ride home with the chairman himself, the latter might take it as a favorable answer to his proposal to which Jimin is still undecided. “No thank you Sir. I’ll be alright. This might still take a while after all,” Jimin says with an awkward laugh, tapping the top of the stack which was rivaling Jimin’s height.

“Alright Jimin. Get back home safely. And I...hope to see you again very soon.”

Jimin gives him a curt nod. “Good night, Professor.”

He continues on with his remaining tasks, wanting to finish quickly so he could finally go home and rest. “Is he gone?” Kyungjo’s voice startles Jimin, the book in his hands nearly causing the tower of books to collapse. “My god! Stop doing that!” Jimin scolds his friend as it wasn’t the first time Kyungjo’s sleuthing had given Jimin a fright.

“Yeah, he left already. You done with your stuff?”

“Uh-huh. All set and ready to step into the real world,” Kyungjo replies, waving his hands in the air. Jimin narrows his eyes at the other boy, judging him silently. Kyungjo has a particular inclination towards alcohol and Jimin wonders if today was one of the days where his friend indulges himself yet once again.

“Have you heard about his actual son? What was the kid’s name again...uh…” Kyungjo snaps his fingers in mid-air as Jimin asks what was the issue with the chairman’s son, likewise reminding Kyungjo it wasn’t best to talk about it in the dean’s office. “Ah! Yes, Jeon Jungkook. Heard that their relationship got so bad that Jungkook completely cut himself off from the family once he graduated high school and went to Yonsei instead of BNU because of his daddy issues.”

Jimin, unsure how to handle and process that kind of information, simply shakes his head at Kyungjo. “It’s wrong to gossip about other people's lives like that.” When Jimin looks over at his friend, Kyungjo is no longer listening, fumbling with the remote as he turns up the volume of the office television.

“In other news today, two thousand five hundred sixty one students of Seoul National University graduated this afternoon 25th of February, 2023. The ceremony was held at COEX Convention Center in Samsung-dong, Seoul to accommodate the number of graduates this year. With a yearly average of at least two thousand three hundred graduates, this year’s commencement ceremony records the highest number of graduates in the history of the national university.

“Not only did they record the highest number of alumni, but this year also marks the first year to have a foreign national graduate as the school’s valedictorian.” Jimin is listening just as intently as Kyungjo now with both boys focused on the TV screen. “Jeong Yeorum, also known as Summer Jeong by her colleagues, graduates with flying colors today from Seoul National University’s College of Medicine. Here is part of her valedictory speech this afternoon.”

A girl appears on screen and she stands behind the podium with a bright and reassuring smile on her face. “As we embark on the journey of the rest of our lives, I implore you all, to do what you love, because I believe it’s what you’ll do best. There will be countless times of trial, but keep in mind that perseverance will always prevail. Always aim for the moon, because even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars. Class of 2023, good luck. And remember, graduation is only the beginning.”

“Wow!” Kyungjo claps his hands enthusiastically as he marvels at the girl. “The twenty-six year old, who along with her family migrated to South Korea back in 2015 when her father was reassigned to an office here in Seoul. The valedictorian says she’s not entirely foreign to Korea as her paternal grandmother is actually a native of Jeju. Jeong Yeorum then attended a co-ed high school in Mapo District, where she likewise finished her secondary education with academic distinction.”

The reporters, equally impressed with the girl’s achievements, couldn’t help but add their own comments to the news report, “Wow...I guess some people are simply born for greatness.”

“I agree with you there, Dongho-ssi. We might be looking at the next Bae Jeonjoo, the only woman in the group of doctors who pioneered neurosurgery in South Korea. Ms. Jeong Yeorum, if you are seeing this, we’re rooting for your promising career. Fighting!”

As soon as the news anchors proceed to report other news, Kyungko turns off the television and mentions the time. “Well, she was pretty cute, wasn’t she? Totally my type! Maybe when we get to Seoul to review, we’ll get the chance to meet her...and make her my girlfriend!”

Jimin rolls his eyes at Kyungjo, placing a firm grip on the shoulder, “My friend...you are either drunk, hungry, or high. Either way, you should go home. Don’t worry about me, I’ll just close up here.”

Kyungjo shrugs his shoulders. “You’ll still go, right? To Seoul?”

“I will. Don’t worry.” Jimin gives the other boy a reassuring nod.

“Still half half with the rent, a’ight? I’ll be counting on you, Jiminie...and don’t let me down. Also, tell me when you’re leaving for Seoul so I know when I’m not supposed to bring hot city girls home...they have the tendency to be...loud sometimes.”

This boy was definitely high, and whatever substance he’s taking, Jimin wants none of it.

“That’s your cue, Kyungjo. Go home and take a cab instead.”

“I can drive! I’m not high or drunk!” Kyungjo puts his hands up in the air in defense. “Hey, look, I can even moonwalk!” He proceeds to dance wildly as he exits the office, leaving Jimin questioning how he even became acquainted with Kyunjo in the first place.

You barely hear the sound of your name being called on stage when the audio of Hoseok’s loud whooping completely dulls that of your professor’s. “Oppa! Nobody would be able to make out my name with your audio input!” Playfully shoving your cousin’s phone back into his hands, you continue to mumble your complaints about the poor video quality.

Indignant with your words, Hoseok retorts, “Hey! I’m not a professional videographer, alright? What’s important is the actual moment happening and not how the moment was captured!” Hoseok hooks an arm over your neck, bringing your head to his chest as he gives you a noogie. “Oppa, my hair!!”

Pulling yourself away from his grasp, you quickly pat your hair down but not delivering a solid smack on Hoseok’s back. As you’re fixing your hair, you weren’t able to put much thought into where you were walking, ultimately, and accidentally bumping into someone in a blue and black graduation robe similar to yours.

Quickly, you look up, apologizing profusely at the person. “Oh! I’m so sorry- I…” “It’s okay,” the guy smiles a little, “_________, right?” You’re sure the surprise is evident in your face when he mentions your name when he barely even talked to you during the entirety of med school. “Yes! I mean...hello, Jungkook..” Clearing your throat, you quickly think of something to divert the impending awkward silence, “Well...um, congratulations to you for graduating as the batch valedictorian!” It now dawns on you that he really did graduate on top of the class, “Wow! You’re real smart!” comes your thoughts, unconsciously voicing them out.

‘You’re real smart?’ Really? That’s the best you could’ve done?

Jungkook chuckles, slightly taken-aback by your audible observation. “Oh yeah...um, thanks.” From behind you, you hear Hoseok clear his throat before speaking up. “Hello!” You hang your head low momentarily, already imagining Hoseok making fun of you later for this.

“Right, Jungkook, this is my cousin, Jung Hoseok. Oppa, this is my classmate - Jeon Jungkook.” The two men shake their hands briefly before Jungkook speaks up, “Well, I’ve got to go now. Congratulations to you too Soomin. And Jung Hoseok-ssi.”

As soon as Jungkook gets out of your sight, Hoseok nudges you with his elbow. “Please tell me that man was Jeon Jungmin’s son,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. Nodding your head, you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Got a crush on the dude?” Oh god. Here we go again.

“No! Jeez.”

“Why were you so awkward around him then?”

“We barely talked in class. Hell, I don’t even think we were within at least fifty meters from each other.”

“But he’s a handsome man?”

“Maybe you’re the one that’s got a crush on him?”

Hoseok glares at you.

“Do you think maybe you’d know which hospital he might be interested in taking his PGI? Woocheon perhaps?”

It’s your turn to glare at him. “I told you. This incident was only one of our very few interactions ever. I think the last time he talked to me was when he borrowed a pencil during a class and that’s it.”

“Well...if you’d discover where, let me know. Because if he does apply for Woocheon, and we’d happen to get the girl from SNU too....” Hoseok nods his head slowly, stroking his chin “Woocheon will have the A-Team interns this year, you included.”

You roll your eyes, resting your arm against the car door that Hoseok opens for you, “You really think that’s going to pay for you ruining my hair?”

“No, but you’re going to thank me if Woocheon manages to snag the dream team!”

#jimin x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #park jimin #bts aus #bts fic #park jimin x reader #jimin fluff #doctors au

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clouditae · 4 years ago

Text

D*ck-N-Out

Lovely banner maker: @chillingtae

Lovely beta: @jinned

Word count: 10k

Sometimes you never know how much you’re craving something until you get that first taste, and you’re tasting plenty in the back of your local In-N-Out restaurant

Fast F*cking Food Masterlist

You pull into your parent’s driveway, their red brick and blackish gray shingles looking like it did when you left for college two years ago. It’s not big compared to the other houses, but when you first moved in at the age of thirteen, it was the biggest house you’ve ever lived in. Now, it’s just a home that contains so many memories, you hope your parents never move.

Turning off the ignition, you gather your bag and phone before exiting your car. The second you step out you can hear your mom’s high pitch cheers as you turn to watch her run down the steps and towards you with arms wide open. She’s smiling wide and happily as she brings you into the tightest hug you’ve ever been in.

“My baby’s home,” she cries, swaying the two of you side to side.

You let out a choked laugh as you pat her back. “Hi, Mom.”

She separates from you, cupping your cheeks as she plants your face full of kisses. “I’ve missed you so much,” she says.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you tell her, relieved she finally let you go long enough for your dad to bring you into a warm hug that isn’t tight like your mom’s. “Hi, Dad.”

He places a kiss at the top of your head as he mumbles, “Hi, sweetie.” As the two of you break your hug, he adds, "Let's get your bags." You watch him as he goes to the back of your trunk and opens it, pulling out your large suitcase and two smaller bags. You go to help him, but your mom is eager to take you inside and talk your ear off about everything you've already heard over the phone.

"How was your drive? Did you eat breakfast already? Lunch? I heard Theo came back into town as well. Did you see him along the way?" she pries, leading you into the living room and into the spacious kitchen where she plants you on the wooden chair at the table. She gets to work on getting you something to drink and most likely a snack.

Theo. One of the boys from high school you know, but more importantly, he’s the son of your mom’s best friend whom she has known for years. Your mom always wanted you and Theo to get together. She consistently tried her best to get you to go on dates together when they would come over for dinner, or the three of you would be over at their place. Even Mrs. Bonet tried her best a few times because she absolutely adored you. The funny thing is, the two of you did give it a shot at the good ol’ age of fourteen. Clearly the two of you weren't ready to date yet, but with the ideas your moms gave, the two of you couldn't help but see. It didn't work back then, and it won't work now.

"I didn't see him. I haven't seen him since we graduated," you say slightly irritated, looking towards the front door to see your dad place your luggage next to the front door as he closes it and makes his way towards the two of you. He takes a seat across from you as your mom places two glasses of water in front of the both of you.

"Well that's a shame. Especially when the two of you go to the same university," she mumbles, taking a seat next to your dad as she rests her arms on the table. Theo, Theo, Theo—you might as well date him if it’ll mean never having her push you two together so hard. "So, tell me everything," she says with enthusiasm, changing the subject completely and bringing you out of your rant.

By the time you're done telling her the same story she's heard every day, you grab your luggage and make your way towards your old bedroom. You unpack and message a few friends of yours before taking a quick nap. It isn't until you hear a knock at your door that you wake up to the sky turning a pinkish orange. The door opens and your mom's head pops in. "Are you hungry?"

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you give a small nod as you sit up. "Yeah. What did you make?"

"I haven't gone shopping, so I was wondering if you were in the mood for some In-N-Out."

"In-N-Out?" Your hand drops to your lap as you frown in confusion. "That's here?"

The door fully opens as she enters the room with excitement in her eyes. "Yes! They opened it about a month ago, and it's always packed, but it's really good!" She claps her hands with glee. "Would you like that for dinner?"

You can tell she really wants you to have it, and you've heard a lot of people talk about it as they open up restaurants in neighboring cities. So, you nod, climbing out of your bed as you reply, "I'll go get it."

"That's okay, sweetie. You drove for four hours already, you don't need to drive for the rest of the day," she says, as you begin to put on your shoes and grab your wallet.

"It's fine, Mom. I haven't been here for almost a year. I want to see what's changed and where this new fast food place is at." You decide, walking with her out of your room and down the hall towards the front door. "Just send me the address and what you want."

After a few more minutes of back and forth conversations, you finally managed to get on the road and follow the directions to the new restaurant. You take the familiar roads you've taken since you were a kid. Things have upgraded and changed over the past year, but the familiarity of certain stores and spots you’ve hung out at have stayed the same. Down this street you had your first kiss with a boy named Seungi. You remember the two of you sitting at a bench eating ice cream in a somewhat awkward silence. The two of you had nothing to say really, until he broke that silence saying you had leftover ice cream on your lips. Before you could wipe it, he leaned in and kissed you. It was the cutest first kiss. A memory you will never forget.

Little pieces of memories flood your thoughts as you continue down the road until the GPS instructs you to turn right at the upcoming stop light.

In the strip mall, you can see an unfamiliar building nestled at the corner next to a McDonalds. The line for In-N-Out is exactly like your parents explained it to be. Long. You pull into the lot and, with your eyes, follow the line of cars waiting to have their orders taken until you find the back of the line, several stores down. Letting out a sigh, you blast the AC, pull out your phone and begin to reply to your group chat of friends.

[Thursday, August 6th, 6:25pm] Ahyeon: We're meeting up right? We have to! All of us are finally in town!!!

[Thursday, August 6th, 6:26pm] Kim: Yes! There’s a reunion party at Toby’s place. Everyone is going so we should meet up there and see everyone we actually liked in high school. I hope the popular ones look like garbage.

[Thursday, August 7th, 6:28pm] Bean: I’m sooo down. Y/N definitely needs to go! She’s the only single one in this group and needs to find a bf or at least get laid

[Thursday, August 7th, 6:29pm] Lain: Single Y/N needs to get pussy tingled~

You send a message to argue your reason for being single. College is more important to you, and your roommate is failing her classes because she’s always with her boyfriend and skipping classes. You’re not looking to do that.

You agree to meeting up at the party as the line moves ever so slowly. It’s about twenty minutes later of texting the group and defending yourself as much as possible, inching the car forward, that you’re finally at the speaker. The menu is extremely short. Three meal items to choose from—to which they’re basically all the same with an exception of do you want cheese, no cheese, or a double pattie, and a few side items to get. So which one do you want? One, two or three?

"Welcome to Dick-N-Out can I take your order?" the voice says through the speaker.

You blink a few times, registering if the guy on the speaker just said dick. "I'm sorry?"

"Welcome to In-N-Out. Can I take your order?" he repeats.

“Oh. Uh”–you glance at the paper your mom gave you of their orders and read it to him. They have jungle fries? Why is it a secret? Taking quick glances at the menu, you quickly pick your order and let him know you’re done with his three item menu. He repeats it back, tells you the price before you scoot your car forward, being short of reaching the first window due to the car in front of you preventing you from going further. Quickly digging in your wallet for your money, you realize you're a few dollars short and decide on using your card. The car in front of you moves forward and so do you, pulling to a stop at the first window.

You can’t see the man's face as he has his back to you, appearing to be talking with someone in the back before he turns his attention towards you. And you swear you feel like you are going to throw up right then and there. To your surprise, a familiar face opens the small window, a look of boredom written all over his sculpted face, dark brown eyes dull and annoyed to be here. Taehyung. “Twenty-One even,” he says, deep voice silky and sending a familiar warmth throughout your body.

You hand him a card, watching him carefully, but not obviously as you wonder if he remembers you the way you instantly remember him. You’ve known him since middle school, and you’ve been in almost every class with him all through high school–hell you were even his project partner once. But he’s Taehyung. He was the most popular guy in school and always had the girls and guys–everyone swooning over him. You happen to have been one of those people swooning over him. He won’t remember you–you weren’t popular in high school and you’re definitely not his type. Girls like Allison are his type: pretty blonde with that cute smile and bubbly personality. You’re not his type, so of course he won’t remember you. You were just another girl in a sea of others.

“Here you go,” he says, cutting you off from your thoughts. You take the card and thank him, doing your best to not sound dejected from your own comments. “Have a nice night,” he says before closing the window and going back to work at taking another customer’s order.

Yup. Another girl.

After getting your food and drinks, you thank the worker before taking off and heading back to the house. You’re going to have to call your friends tonight to ask them about Taehyung. You could have sworn he went off to some university in New York or something, so why is he working here when his parents are loaded and he has money from working with his dad? So many questions and not enough time to ask on this short ten minute drive.

You're lying in bed after finishing dinner and watching a movie with your parents. You can’t deny that the food was good. You also can’t deny that you’re shocked they don’t put salt on the fries but on the side in little packets for you to put on. In your honest opinion they taste better without it, and there’s a lot they give you.

What you can’t get over is life playing a little game on you within those few minutes of talking with your friends since leaving the drive thru. First they tease you for being single and saying you need to have sex like you haven’t had sex in years–in your defense, it’s only been a year and it’s not eating you up like people say it should. You got busy with school and just don’t have time to find a fling. Then at the speaker you could have sworn you heard him say Dick-N-Out instead of In-N-Out. You weren’t imagining it because you suddenly got in the mood to be dicked down. And then Taehyung, your crush of four plus years is working the drive thru and taking your order. What kind of messed up game is that?

You tried to get a hold of your friends, but they were busy and said they’ll all get together for a call either tomorrow night or the next morning. So, you’ll have to wait to spill the beans as to what happened at In-N-Out today. For now you can just scroll through social media to find out what he’s been up to. Find out if he’s still with Allison or not. God you hope not. She’s nice and everything, but she is the biggest bitch you’ve ever met.

Clicking on the app almost everyone is on, you begin your research. You don’t know his username so you’ll have to go through friends of friends to find him, but who first? You click on Emi’s, her being the most active and social out of the group, she’s bound to be friends with half the school. You scroll through her friend’s list until you find Mason, captain of the soccer team. Well, former captain. He was good friends with the quarterback of the football team. Clicking on him, bits and pieces of memories of him come back. He was super sweet, something you don’t expect when it comes to the quarterback after so many stereotypical movies involving them. Jason Seagull, he called himself–strange name, but people loved it. Continuing, you go further and further into the sea of popular students you know until you find her.

Allison.

There’s no way she’s not friends with Taehyung, so you click on her profile, browsing through her page. There’s photos of her at the beach, some sappy ‘I love my life’ crap for the caption, a few photos of her with her friends you recognize, and very little of her at her university–something she bragged about your final year in school. All because it’s an Ivy League. There’s no photos of her and Taehyung within the past year, so your guess is that they’re not together. You keep scrolling and scrolling until you find a photo that you’ve been looking for but still makes your heart jump.

Taehyung and Allison are at some party, people in the background as he carries her on his back. She has her arms wrapped around his neck loosely, her cheek pressed against his as they both smile widely and looking perfect. He still looks the same now as he did in the photo you're staring at. Chestnut curls falling over his forehead and brushing along the tip of his ears, dark brown eyes always a mystery you wish to uncover, and a boxy grin plastered on his face. You didn't see his smile, but you know it's always there when he's happy.

Reading her post on it, you click on his tagged name, feeling your heart race as it takes you to his page. There's photos of him everywhere; the beach, a cafe, at an art museum and so many more places. You continue to scroll down until you find a photo of him at what looks like his university. So, he's still going to school, and your guess is his school ends earlier than yours. You're nosy for another fifteen minutes until exhaustion kicks in and you're slowly falling into a deep slumber.

It's been over a week since you've been home and you're currently getting ready for the party your friends have been pestering you to go to. You'd prefer to meet them at one of their houses, but they're dedicated to partying together. They want to see everyone from high school and see you at the same time. You really don't have a choice but to agree.

Jumping into your jeans, buttoning and zipping it closed, you do a once over in the mirror. Deciding you look great, you slip on a pair of boots, grab your bag that matches your black top, and head out your bedroom. You head towards the living room where your parents sit on the sofa watching a movie. They look over their shoulder when you say, "Okay. I'll be back later tonight. I might stay at Bean's tonight, but I'll let you guys know later." As you grab your key off the hook you say your goodbyes and head out the door.

Closing the front door and locking it, you can hear a car pull up beside the curb. There's a honk as you turn around to see a familiar dark green car parked in front of your house. All four doors open and your friends pile out of the car cheering as they run to you and bring you into a group hug. You chuckle as you greet your friends, finally separating from them to get a clear view of their faces. Ahyeon, Lainey, Emi, Bean and Kim look like they did when you six graduated high school. Beautiful, young and full of life.

"Y/N, you look as beautiful as ever!" Kim says, cupping your cheeks and squeezing them.

"You guys look amazing, too," you compliment, rubbing your cheeks lightly when she finally let go.

"Ready to party?" Emi asks, wiggling her body in excitement.

"Let's party!" Lainey cheers, grabbing you and Bean's hands, dragging you towards Bean's car. The other girls cheer as they follow, all six of you pilling into the car. With the music blasting, the vehicle starts forward and towards the destination.

It takes around half an hour to get to the party where there are cars lined up and down the street, people standing outside the house, laughing and chatting. It takes Bean a minute to find a spot to park her car, but she finally manages to get a spot rather close to the house. Getting out, you fix your top clear of wrinkles as you drape your bag on your shoulder and follow your group of excited friends. Ahyeon loops an arm through yours as she smiles at you and walks alongside you down the sidewalk.

As you reach the party house, you immediately see a few faces you recognize. They notice your group and smile, a loud "hello" can be heard over the blasting music. You try your best to say hi as you're dragged into the building, the music louder than you thought. The pop music is blaring through the house, the vibrations running up your body through your feet and your eardrums rattle with every beat. Everything smelled of alcohol, sweat and there’s a faint smell of pizza. There are dozens of bodies within the confined spaces of the house. You can see them lining the stairs, the hallway and a few heading out the back door.

“Let’s party!” Bean screams, grabbing hold of an excited Lainey as the two make their way through the large crowd and towards the kitchen where the alcohol must be. You shake your head as the rest of your group laughs and the four of you follow in suit. Reaching the kitchen and the line of ice chests that held all types of alcohol, Bean passes out bottles that she knows each one of you likes.

Kim takes a light pink one, the words “Soju” written in fine print on the bottle as Emi happily takes a dark green bottle muttering, “Finally, someone has class in this place,” as she twists the cap to her gin and tonic. You watch as Ahyun eyes Kim’s drink curiously before requesting the drink, Bean happily giving your friend the same beverage.

Lainey is digging through the fridge for a bit before she triumphantly pulls out a carton of chocolate milk. “I’ve got the goods,” she calls out in satisfaction.

Finally, Bean digs further into the ice chest before pulling out two bottles of Svedka and hands you one. You take it, reading the title again. It’s strawberry lemonade flavored Vodka. It looks like the bottle should be split between people, but you happily twist the cap open knowing she has no intention of sharing hers and expects the same from you and you hold out the glass towards the center for a “cheers!” before taking a swig of the rather delicious content.

It doesn’t take long before you surprisingly finish your first bottle, not feeling much yet as you toss the cap to your second into the bucket pile of bottle caps and head outside for some fresh air. In the far off distance of the backyard, you can see a table with two empty chairs. Everyone who is in the backyard is swimming in the pool, sitting at the available chairs closer to the stereo and cases of alcohol.

Making your way around the pool and running people, you walk past the small rose garden the owner of the house created. You hope no drunk idiot ruins such beauty. Taking a seat at the table, you take another drink of your beverage, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat, your cheeks warm and slightly pink. As you watch the partygoers dance the night away, you begin to think of where they were in high school. Who was the jock, the cheerleader, the band kid and so on. It amazes you how people don’t see that status now—how the once popular girl is holding hands with the basketball player, their smiles bright and happy.

You feel a tinge of jealousy as another couple practically go at it in the corner of the yard, their hands all over each other while a few people yell at them to take it somewhere else. You never took a chance at dating in school because you were so focused on finishing with the highest grades possible. You got valedictorian, a 4.0 GPA and wanted to get into the best school possible and enjoy life in college. You did… to an extent. You haven’t had a boyfriend in a while and, much to your dismay at agreeing with your friends, you haven’t had a fling in longer time than that. Being home could mean having that chance to go crazy. The question is whether you’ll do it or not.

A figure appears at the chair next to you. You look up and see Taehyung standing there, a half empty bottle in his hand. He’s looking off at the partygoers as he asks, “This seat taken?”

“No,” you reply, voice small and can be barely heard over the blaring speakers.

Taehyung takes a seat, his attention finally on you as he takes another swig of his bottle—its content now a quarter full. His eyes are half lidded, cheeks a shade of pink and smells of a woodsy spring lingers around him with a mixture of alcohol. He sets his beverage on the table and asks, “Didn’t I see you at the drive-thru the other day?”

You stumble over your words, taken by surprise. He actually recognized you. “Uh, yeah. That was me,” you answer, voice still small and not as confident as you hope it would be.

“We went to Bayside,” he states matter of factly—tone not even showing a hint of questioning.

"Yeah," you begin, shifting in your seat a bit, "we did. We had art together our senior year."

He's quiet for a moment as he studies you, his eyes looking from your eyes to a different body part on your face. You wonder if he's trying to remember seeing you in class. He sat at the back to the right while you sat at the front on the left side of class. You could never get a good look at him through all the students sitting in between, so Taehyung definitely could not see you.

"We had math the year before that, too." You think back for a moment, trying to remember if he's right. "You sat in the middle by Nathan," he informs, and then it clicks. He's right. The two of you had math together. He sat in the front—three people in front of you. You're honestly surprised he remembers that.

"Yeah," you mutter, tone clearly shocked.

He grabs his bottle and takes a final drink. "Why do you sound so shocked?"

"I-uh-I just wasn't expecting you to remember something like that," you confess.

He hums. "It's hard to forget someone like you," he says, standing up from his seat. "I'm gonna go grab another one. You want another?" he asks, gesturing to your beverage.

"Oh-uh, yes please," you answer. You watch him make his way towards the house, giving small nods to the people who greeted him in slurs. As he disappears, his comment lingers in your thoughts. What does he mean by you being hard to forget? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? You’re not sober enough to think hard on this, but you can’t help but wonder what he means. Maybe you should ask.

��Here you go,” Taehyung says, interrupting your thoughts. Blinking, you take the bottle, watching him as he uncaps his drink and takes a seat. “Which school did you end up choosing?”

“What?” How much does he know about you? Is it possible that he’s guessing you decided to go to college?

“You talked a lot with your friend”—he snaps his finger, eyes looking above you in thought as he tries to remember a name—“I can’t remember her name—she’s blonde, hair short to her shoulders…”

“Bean?” you question, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah. Bean,” he confirms, leaning back in his seat. “You talked a lot with her during art about the universities you applied to. You’re super smart, so I’m wondering which school you decided to go to.”

Seems like he just knows a lot more than you thought. Hell, you never thought he’d take interest in your options when you first applied, let alone ask about it now.

“I decided to go to Sloan,” you answer, finishing your drink in your hand before placing it on the table and grabbing your new one. “What about you?”

He rubs his eye slowly, clearly tired and drunk. “I stuck around and went to Bayside, but I just transferred, so I’m heading to Seatree in January.”

Your brows raise in surprise. “Congratulations,” you tell him. “That’s a difficult school to get into.” Seatree is number three in ranking of Ivy Leagues—better than the one here. Getting into a university like that takes a lot of hard work. You hold out your bottle towards him. “To your acceptance,” you say.

He brings his drink to yours, clinking it and says, “To you getting out of here.”

The two of you talk for a while. You talk about high school, the professors you hate, what your future goals are, and so much more. You’ve never had a conversation last this long with Taehyung. You’re enjoying every bit of it.

He chuckles shaking his head. “He just pulled his pants down and that was it,” he says.

You laugh, wiping a fallen tear from the corner of your eye. “I can’t believe he did that. All to avoid having to take a final?”

“Yup. That bastard made up a lie and got a way with it. He took the final later and had enough time to study and pass the class.” He finishes his last bottle, placing it on the corner of the table filled with the rest of the empty glasses you two created. “There are so many more stories I can tell you,” he adds, shaking his head at all the stories that are possibly running through his mind right now.

“I’d love to hear them,” you slur, smiling like the biggest idiot in the world. You would love to have been there for half the stories he’s already told you.

He smiles his heart winning smile and states, “It’s a shame we didn’t talk in high school. There are so many stories I could have told you that I don’t remember.”

Your smile lessens to a small one. You look down at your empty bottle. “You and I are from two different worlds, the platform to connect us doesn’t exist.”

He hums in disagreement, earning your attention. You watch him as he looks from the crowd slowly growing smaller, then he looks towards you. “Talking with you would have been worth it.”

Your mouth opens lightly, obviously surprised by his statement. What does he mean by that? That sentence has a lot of conclusions, and you don’t know which one to take. You’re too intoxicated to deal with these questions right now—especially when he’s saying all these words that make your heart flutter and bring up familiar feelings you had forgotten all those years ago when you graduated high school and never saw Taehyung again.

Maybe you should ask him on a date. Ask him to one night where it’s just the two of you like you wanted to when you first realized your feelings for him. Maybe today will be the day where he says ‘yes’.

“Y/N!” Kim’s voice calls from across the yard. You look towards her and the rest of your friends. “We’re leaving,” she yells, hands cupped over her mouth.

You get up, grabbing as many empty bottles as you can. “Guess it’s time for me to go,” you tell him when you can carry no more. “Nice talk,” you add. Saying your ‘goodbye’ you turn and leave, making your way towards the waiting group.

“I’m always working night shifts,” he shouts. You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him. He looks confidently drunk as he says, “I always close alone—best time to visit.”

You’re grateful for your already red cheeks because you are blushing so hard right now. You say nothing and turn around, closing the gap between you and your friends. They all eye you with smirks on their faces.

“Was our little Y/N hanging out with Taehyung?” Ahyeon teases, waving her finger at you.

“From what I saw, Taehyung was flirting with her,” Lainey adds, her brows raising in a knowing manner.

“He wasn’t flirting,” you counter, shaking your head as you head towards the barrels running along the wall of the back of the house. “He was being polite.” You dump all the bottles in one of the empty barrels.

“He basically told you when he gets off work. He’s waiting for you to show up and give him the best sex of his life,” Bean states, crossing her arms over her chest. She knows you best, but she doesn’t know Taehyung, and he is definitely not waiting for you to have sex with him.

You roll your eyes in slight annoyance. “Who’s driving?”

“I am, party pooper,” Lainey answers, tone clearly bummed you’re not letting them have their fun with teasing.

“Let’s order pizza and watch movies,” you say, hoping your suggestion will bring the group’s mood up a little. Thankfully it does and Lainey drives you all to Bean’s house where you have your own party in her basement and finally crash around sunrise.

You’re debating with yourself as you lie in bed on a Wednesday afternoon. The sun is setting, giving your room an orange like glow to the white walls. Since you last saw your friends, and after their constant drunk teasing—well, besides Lainey who only drank chocolate milk the entire party, you are honestly considering whether you should go back to In-N-Out and see what happens with Taehyung.

Sure you almost asked him out, but you were completely drunk and had so much more confidence than you do now. You’re sober and practically pushing away those thoughts.

If fate wants you to go and ask him out, then it needs to appear before you now and tell you to do it. Yup. Fate needs to hurry up and show you this sign.

Your stomach growls, interrupting your thoughts. Climbing out of bed, you head out of your room and towards the kitchen. Your parents went to a party with their friends, so they'll be coming home late. You're on your own for dinner. Opening the fridge, your eyes scan for something to eat. You stand there for a bit, but nothing looks appealing. A small realization hits.

Is this the sign? Is this the sign telling you to go to In-N-Out?

You contemplate for a bit, trying to think of excuses to not go and see him, but you're not convincing yourself hard enough. In fact, you're telling yourself to dress up and head over there and see him.

The next thing you know, you're in your room looking for something cute to wear. You grab a mustard yellow sweater and light blue jeans. Slipping them on, you begin to do your make-up over and over until you're satisfied with it and you almost believe a professional did it rather than you. You went light on the eyes with a bit of brown and yellow eyeshadow and the darkest red lipstick you have. Fixing your hair just a bit, you're finally satisfied with yourself and get up from your vanity chair and go to your closet to grab a grey coat that stops close to your ankles. You dig further into your closet until you find a pair of forest green colored heeled boots and put them on. When everything is complete you do a once over in the mirror before heading out your room and down the hall.

Grabbing your bag and keys, you head out the front door, locking it and entering your car. Putting your car in reverse, you drive out of your driveway and down the street towards Taehyung's workplace.

What are you going to say when you get there? Are you just going to ask him out immediately? Strike up a conversation at first, get him interested in the conversation and then ask him out? What are you going to do? Say? What's the startup topic you're going to begin with?

With all the thoughts running through your mind, you didn't even realize that you made it to the restaurant and you're currently in the parking lot staring at the building a few feet away from where you're parked. You take in a few deep breaths and gather up the courage to exit your car. With your bag's strap draped over your shoulder, you clutch it tightly and begin your walk across the parking lot and towards the entrance doors.

When you enter the building, it's not as packed as you thought it would be. Your guess is because it's almost ten o'clock and no one really has dinner around this time. Walking up to the cash register, Taehyung is nowhere to be seen. Is today his day off? Did you fuck up already?

The man behind the cash register looks you up and down, making you suddenly aware of how fancy your outfit is at a fast food restaurant. You're suddenly self conscious, but you play it off like you wore this with purpose. You could have just gotten off work—what's it to him? You give the man your order and hand him your change, accepting the receipt and cup before heading towards the drink dispenser.

After filling your cup, you find a seat at the back corner next to the window, looking out onto the parking lot. Finally taking notice of your surroundings after realizing that Taehyung isn't here, you realize that the drive thru is the shortest you've ever seen. You were so wrapped up in your fear of attempting to ask Taehyung out that you finally realize that you're way overdressed. You feel ridiculous for dressing up to go to a fast food restaurant and order food.

"Order number eighty-seven," a worker calls, and you get up from your chair and head towards the front. Stepping up to the counter and grabbing your tray, someone says, "Nice outfit." You look up from your food and at the person standing in front of you on the other side of the counter to see Taehyung. He's wearing a white collared shirt with the In-N-Out logo on it, and a tug boat hat with the logo on it as well.

Why does he look so damn good in it?

"Thank you," you mumble, looking away feeling suddenly shy.

"Enjoy your meal," he says, earning back your attention. "You look cute by the way," he adds before turning away and disappearing into the back, and as you watch him disappear, he’s wearing white pants with a red, short apron. You can’t help but admire his ass until it’s gone.

Taking your tray, you head to your seat and begin to eat your extremely late dinner. As you eat you begin to debate with yourself once again. Are you supposed to wait until closing time for him? That's three hours from here. How slow do you need to eat for it to be closing time? Will it just be him or will his coworkers be here as well?

In the end you finish your meal and leave immediately after. You didn't have the courage to stick around.

You're back again, dressed less fancy and currently crossing the parking lot to the entrance doors.

It's been a couple of days since you were last here, but you gathered the courage and came back to do what you couldn't do last time. You even came at a later time so that you don't have to wait over three hours for him to get off.

You enter the building and stand behind the person currently having their order taken. You look towards the back to see if you can spot him anywhere. So far you don't see him.

"I can help next in line," the cashier says, and your gaze is towards her as you step up to her register. You give her your order, hand her the change and take the receipt. "We'll call you when your order is ready," she tells you as you thank her and head to fill your cup.

You wait at your table for a few minutes eyeing the back in hopes of seeing Taehyung. Even when your name is called you still don't see him. It takes you a good fifteen minutes to realize that Taehyung isn't working today and you leave the building with low hopes.

You're back again! This time he has to be working and you can’t leave either! Walking inside the restaurant, you immediately notice Taehyung working the register, staring down and messing with the keys. You exhale, mentally motivating yourself and make your way over to him.

When you reach him, he looks up at you and smiles, sending a million butterflies to flutter in your stomach. “Third time’s the charm—” You interrupt him.

“Let’s go on a date,” you tell him, gathering all the courage you have tonight. He’s grinning now as he says nothing but stare at you, and you suddenly lose all that courage as you mumble, “O-only if you want to.”

“Are you going to stay this time?” he asks, resting his palms at the edge of the counter and leans forward just a bit. “I don’t want to end my shift and not see you here. Again.”

A light blush creeps across your cheeks. “I’ll stay,” you answer, playing with the bottom of your red shirt.

“Okay,” he says, standing up and begins to press buttons before opening and closing the tray to the register, reaching down and placing a cup on the counter in front of you. “On the house.” He goes to the back and you grab the cup, heading to fill it with your choice of drink.

After receiving your food, you eat in silence, and about ten minutes after you began eating, you watch as several employees leave the building. They chat amongst each other clearly happy to leave an hour before closing.

An hour? Where are they going? You look to the front and see no one. Is Taehyung still here? He didn’t leave you, right? That would be a fucked up move if he did—

The lights cut out, with only back up lights filling the dim room. A figure appears from the back, walking around the counter and towards the glass doors. It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust but you eventually realize it’s Taehyung as he locks the doors. You hear the keys jingle before he places them in his apron pocket. You swallow a lump in your throat as he walks over to your table, taking a seat across from you.

“You in the mood to start this date now? My shift ended early.”

You can’t help but giggle. “I’m okay with starting now,” you reply, grabbing a fry and taking a bite out of it.

He smiles a familiar boxy smile. “Good. So, since our last conversation, I managed to come up with a few more questions.”

You hum. “Shoot.”

He adjusts in his seat, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. “I always thought you and Bonet were a secret thing.”

You cock your head to the side in confusion. “Me and Theo?” You shake your head this time and correct, “We did go out once, but it didn’t work out.”

“Why? Too young?” he implores.

“That, and he had a crush on August. They’ve been dating since August and Theo came out around the same time,” you comment. He nods in acknowledgement. “Now I have a question for you,” you say.

He chuckles. “Shoot,” he repeats.

“Why are the jungle fries a secret?” you inquire, taking a drink from your red and white cup.

He furrows his brows. “That’s your question?”

“Are you avoiding the question?” You raise your brows, fighting back a smile.

He can only sigh. “It’s not on the menu, but it is online and we do make it if asked. That’s why it’s a secret.”

“That’s a strange reason,” you comment, taking a bite out of your burger.

“My turn,” he says, and so the two of you spend almost an hour basically playing 20 Questions. Finally he asks, “Walk with me while I make sure everything is ready for tomorrow before we head out?”

“Sure,” you agree, picking up your tray and getting up from your seat to dump it in the trash, placing the tray on the shelf above the trash can.

Following him behind the counter, you scan the back with eager eyes. From all the movies and shows you’ve seen revolving around working at a fast food restaurant, it looks almost the same. Stations for each employee to focus on, fridges for cold items and trays full of vegetables. Taehyung is busy double checking everything, and as you watch him, you can’t help but think of all the possibilities he could have working the night shift.

“Have you ever had sex back here?” you blurt out, full of curiosity, but not really thinking of what you just asked.

You watch as he turns to look at you in surprise. “You’re curious as to whether I had sex back here or not?”

You shrug. “I’d be surprised if you did,” you state.

He shakes his head and turns his attention back to the items in front of him. “I have,” he answers, and your mouth opens slightly in shock. “Had to delete the footage because I realized the camera caught us.”

“No way,” you mutter, voice clearly surprised.

He laughs, “There are a lot of rumors that’s happened on BTS.”

“Like what?” you implore, taking a step towards him.

“There’s this weird dude that works at Arby’s who is way too dedicated to his job. He’s a sign spinner— the cowboy at the corner. People say he fucks people in bushes,” he tells you.

"No way," you say in disbelief. "There's no way someone would be sneaky enough to have sex in a bush out in the open. Cars drive by, and no one has seen them?"

"He has yet to be caught." Taehyung shakes his head in his own disbelief.

"So, everyone is having sex in their workplace it seems," you comment, watching him as places everything back where he found them.

He walks further towards the back with you following after, stating, "I only know of Arby's and obviously here. McDonald's, Starbucks and the rest of the places I don't know if they're as creative as we are."

"Creative," you repeat with a chuckle.

He stops in his track at the back room where you can see the first window where people pay for their food to your left, and a closed door to your right with a small gold plaque with a sign 'manager' printed on it.

"You feel like seeing the creativity I can come up with?" He asks, a brow raised in a questioning yet teasing manner.

You can't help but laugh a little louder. "You can trick your manager once, but you're not getting off trying to be "creative" a second time," you tell him, using air quotes for his term of being dirty in a fast food restaurant.

He grabs his hat and tosses it up behind you. You follow the cap as it flies across the hall and catches perfectly the camera facing the two of you. Your head whips back towards him as he stands there with his arms crossed over his chest. “Your move, sweet.”

With warmed cheeks, you utter, “There’s no way…”

“Whatever you want to do, I’ll play along. If you’d rather go on a date at a park or just chill in the car, okay.” He takes a step closer, his body inches from you, breath fanning your lips as he adds, “If you want to get creative, I’m more than happy to do it.” His eyes glance to your lips before going back up to your wide-eyed ones. “Your call.”

You feel like you’re about to burst with how close he is. You can see his eyes so clearly—the lust that’s hidden beneath those chocolate colored eyes. The hunger that’s looming over you, teasing you and sending chills throughout your body. He’s not even touching you, yet you can feel his hands brush along your skin with a hot trail following after. You want this just as much as he does.

So what’s stopping you?

Crashing your lips to his, you grab a hold of his shirt and bring his body as close as possible to yours. Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to cup your cheeks and kiss you with as much need as you. Lips move along each other with hunger, teeth biting bottom lips, tongues grazing along flesh, begging for entrance.

The two of you are not patient at all as he helps you remove your top, quickly doing the same with his own. He cups your clothed breasts, squeezing and groping roughly as his tongue swirls around yours, his hot breath making your skin feel sweaty.

You run your hands through his hair, pulling roughly, earning a groan from him as his hands travel behind you to unclasp your bra. Releasing your grip on his locks, you take your bra off and drop it to the ground, the kiss breaking as his lips travel down to your neck, biting and licking until he reaches your breasts. He plays with one with his hand while the other is occupied with his mouth, his tongue creating circles around your nipple, teeth biting and sucking. You moan, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling. He pinches your other nipple just as hard as he’s biting it.

“Tae—” Your words catch in your throat as he switches, his fingers pinching your already sensitive tip and biting the other. “Go further,” you beg, watching him as he breaks away from your breasts to look at you. “I need your tongue.”

He grins a cheeky grin. “Your wish is my command,” he tells you before getting to his knees in front of you. He sure does take his time with removing your pants as you had already removed your shoes. Grabbing the waistband to your jeans, he slowly lowers them down until they’re at your ankles. You’re quicker than he is and completely remove them by using your feet to hold one side down while the other foot struggles to be free. You kick them to the side once they’re no longer around your ankles.

“Eager I see,” he comments, but he doesn’t give you time to respond as he leans forward and bits your core through your panties. You let out a small gasp, spreading your legs out more for him. He bites and prods with his finger your clothed core, trailing his finger down between your slit. You can’t help but shutter, closing your eyes, enjoying the feeling of it.

You want more, but you wait. You wait for a small build up he’s creating for you until you’re moving your hips against his finger. Finally, he takes a hold of your underwear and pulls it down. Lifting one leg, he completely removes them and turns his attention back to your naked body. He grabs your leg and lifts it onto his shoulder, spreading your legs as far as he can without you falling over.

He doesn’t waist anytime getting to work eating you out. Taehyung starts by licking your bead, earning small hip thrusts from the sudden touch. Little moans escape your lips as you throw your head back, your back arching as he swirls his tongue around your clit, his fingers playing between your folds. You cry out his name as he begins to suck, your body jerking, hands gripping his hair and pulling his head closer to your womanhood.

You’re grinding yourself against his mouth when he finally stops his fingers at your entrance and inserts two digits, sending you closer to your orgasm. His fingers thrust into you, curling and hitting your g-spot with such ferocity that your body is shaking and hunched over, saying his name like a mantra. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down as he finger fucks the life out of you. His mouth never takes a break as he flicks, sucks and swirls around your swollen bean.

You’ve never been with someone as well practiced as Taehyung. He doesn’t stop his movements as he gets you to your high, white spots invading your vision, breath catching in your throat, toes curling and body spasming so hard that when you’ve finished your orgasm, you fall to your knees in front of him. He catches you and you sit on his leg.

Panting roughly, you barely whisper, “Oh my God.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Are you okay?”

You look up at him, your juices glistening from the light in the kitchen around his lips. You clean it off him with your hand. “That was amazing,” you comment, your hand trailing down his chest.

He shrugs. “I’ve got years of practice under my belt.”

You laugh at his statement, shaking your head. “Well, it’s only fair I repay you,” you say, getting to your feet and he does the same. You push him against the wall at the opposite end of the hall, his eyes are full of lust again when you gaze at him. His hands reach for your face, but you stop them from reaching you, adding, “Ah-ah. We’re going to see how long you last before you touch me.”

He groans, “You repay me by not letting me touch you? That’s unfair, babygirl.”

You grin. “Life is never fair,” you tell him, getting to your knees and focusing your attention on his bulge hidden beneath his white pants. You unbutton and unzip his jeans, gazing your eyes up to see him staring intently at you. He sticks his tongue out to lick his lower lips, his eyes full of hunger like you’re his prey and he’s ready to pounce.

You grab both his pants and waistband to his boxers and slowly drag them down until they are at his ankles. His member is hard and almost hits your lips when it sprung free. Your eyes widen at its size, mouth watering at the sight of it, and your core getting wet all over again at the thought of it pounding you into oblivion.

“Remember,” you begin, the tips of your fingers brushing along his penis, “No touching.” You stick your tongue out and lick his tip, his body jerking from the sensation.

Your tongue circles around his tip, deep, heavy breaths can be heard coming from Taehyung. You can see his hand clench into a fist next to him. He wants you to do more—touch you and guide you where he wants you to be, but he’s resisting so hard. So, you take the desperate hint and take him fully into your mouth, earning a low growl from him.

“Your mouth is so warm,” he says in a husky tone. “Fuck.”

You swirl your tongue around him as you bring your head back and then push forward again, taking him as deep as you can. You continue to bob your head back and forth, sucking on his tip every now and then as he moans in pleasure, his hands going up into his hair or balling into fists at his sides. He curses under his ragged breaths, thrusting his hips to meet you at a faster pace.

You release him from your mouth, grabbing his shaft and lifting it up to place your lips on his balls, your mouth opening to grab what you can and suck. Taehyung is moaning louder and cursing more than he was earlier. His legs shake from the pleasure he can’t contain.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—I can’t take it anymore,” he grunts, reaching his hand down to grab yours holding his girth. He helps you to your feet, quickly getting his feet out of his boxers and jeans, and pushes you backwards until your back is against the cold, tiled walls. You can’t help but gasp at the feeling of it. “I need to be in you, Y/N. I need to feel you,” he pleads, his lips brushing along yours, his member pressing against your walls in a desperate attempt to feel warmth between your legs.

“Please,” you say, lifting a leg up and he takes a hold of it, lifting it higher as his other hand lines himself at your entrance and finally pushes in. The both of you let out moans, kissing each other desperately.

“Fuck, you’re so tight and wet,” he groans, pulling himself out and then pushing back in. “You’re so warm. Shit—I don’t know how long I can last. You feel amazing, babygirl.”

You grab his free hand and bring it to your lips. Taking his middle finger, you put it in your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it as if it were his shaft. “Fuck me,” you command, biting his finger just a bit.

“Oh, baby. I’m going to make your legs feel like jelly,” he murmurs, thrusting into you roughly. Your gasp is caught in your throat as he thrusts deeply into you, giving you no time to catch your breath as he fucks you without a second thought. His finger leaves your mouth, trailing down your body and to your breast to squeeze it as his mouth latches onto your neck.

You feel a small pain on your neck from him biting your skin, a soft touch from his hand fondling your boob and immense pleasure as he enters you with a rhythmed pace. You claw his back, clutch his hair as you moan in the empty building, your voice louder than the hums of the freezer that can be heard somewhere in the kitchen.

“Oh my God, yes. Don’t stop, Tae—right there,” you ramble, arching your back as he hits your sensitive spot. “Fuck yes, right there.”

He grips your thigh tightly, breathing heavily into your neck as sweat drips down both of your bodies. You can feel a hickey growing as he sucks on your skin where your shoulder and neck meet. He doesn’t care and neither do you as you try your best to thrust your hips to meet his fast pace, desperately wanting to reach your orgasm.

“Please touch me,” you beg, gripping his shoulders for balance as your right leg, keeping you up, is shaking. “I’m so close,” you rasp.

His hand that was once fondling your breast is immediately trailing down between your bodies and to your delicate bead. He presses his fingers to it and begins his circular motion, creating a friction your body cannot take. You let out a cry as you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly, shutting your eyes as your high gets closer and closer.

“Fuck I’m about to come,” Taehyung grunts.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” you whisper harshly, the sound of skin slapping against each other, his skin peeling away from yours every time he thrusts out of you. His grunts get louder, thrusts no longer at a pace you’re familiar with. He’s just about there and so are you.

He picks up the speed as fast as he can with his hand and it does just the trick. You’re screaming out his name as you fall into your orgasm, trying your best not to bite him as hard as you are right now. Taehyung is cursing louder and faster as he continues his thrusts and finally goes still.

The two of you hold one another for a moment with panting breaths before Taehyung interrupts, “Some first date, huh?”

You can’t help but chuckle. “I think the rest of the dates won’t top this one.”

Taehyung leans back to look at you, his chestnut curls sticking to his forehead. “Every date we go on from here on out will always top the one before.”

“You sound so confident,” you mumble, your stomach fluttering at the determined look in his eyes.

“I’ve wanted you since we were in middle school. Now that I have you, I’m not letting you go any time soon,” he tells you with so much determination you can’t help but feel a blush rise and blend in with your already reddened cheeks.

“You’ve wanted me?”

“Why do you look so surprised?”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Because you’re Taehyung. Every girl wanted to be with you. You could have anyone and I’m pretty sure you did—”

“When there’s someone who catches your attention, it’s hard to look at anyone else,” he states, lowering your leg and holding your waist to keep you still. Your legs feel like they’re about to give out on you. “Let me show you. Let me prove to you how much I wanted your attention.”

You’re reluctant. You feel like this is a joke, but as you stare into Taehyung’s eyes, you can’t help but feel like he’s telling the truth. Has he always wanted you and you were too blind to see it?

“Okay,” you mutter. “Show me.”

[Saturday, August 19th, 1:30am] Me: So...

[Saturday, August 19th, 1:31am] Bean: Oh! She lives!

[Saturday, August 19th, 1:31am] Ahyeon: Where have you been Y/N! We’ve been texting all day!

[Saturday, August 19th, 1:32am] Me: I was… with Taehyung

[Saturday, August 19th, 1:33am] Kim: NO WAY

[Saturday, August 19th, 1:33am] Emi: This late?? You didn’t…

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts au #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung au

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 29

First

Chat was still reeling from the bombshell that was ‘everyone apparently knows about his family life’ when Master Fu had told them that he probably knew Hawkmoth… and then, because apparently the universe wasn’t done with him, Master Fu had told them that he had personally chosen Hawkmoth.

Master Fu sighed as he looked over all their faces and then motioned for them to sit down. They did so without question or complaint, though it was mostly because everyone was in shock and on autopilot.

He leaned heavily against his cane.

“You all know the way the story started. About thirty years ago, a woman calling herself Paon started terrorizing Paris with what she called Sentimonsters using the peacock miraculous.”

Of course they knew the story. They had only been alive for a little more than half of it, but that didn’t mean they didn’t remember the giant Sentimonsters wreaking havoc every day. Those kinds of memories stick with you.

“To counter her, a man called Pieris, with powers that varied by the battle, rose to counteract her.”

They all nodded. They were beginning to piece together who Hawkmoth was, they weren’t stupid, but… one thing didn’t make sense:

“But Pieris would have been an akuma, not Hawkmoth,” said Rena, frowning.

“Who says Hawkmoth can’t akumatize himself?” Said Master Fu quietly. He sighed again, looking even older than usual. “Anyways, you all know that it took about twenty years for him to defeat her.”

They all nodded again. Chat hadn’t been allowed out, but he remembered all of the parties and celebrations when it had been announced that Paon’s reign of terror was over.

(Not that he’d wanted to be let out at the time. His mother had just died, going out and having fun had felt wrong. How could he be happy when his mother would never be able to do so again?)

“But… it turned out that the man that I had chosen to be Pieris was Paon’s husband. When he found out what he had done to his wife, he was overcome with grief. His miraculous corrupted him.”

Beside him, Rena clenched her fists. “So… did you choose Paon, too? Is this just our fate? One day we’ll just go evil and there’s nothing --?”

“No,” Master Fu cut her off. “Paon… it was passed through her family. Sometimes the person would use it for good, other times bad, but no matter what they passed it on once the eldest child became an adult.”

Rena relaxed, but only slightly.

Chat couldn’t find it in himself to do the same.

He turned and buried his face in Rena’s shoulder, unsure what to do. There was no way...

Right?

Chat bit his lip.

His parents had always been very busy and a little bit distant, though he had just attributed that to their jobs. Then there was the fact that his mother’s death coincided with the day that Paon had last been seen. When Paon and Pieris had disappeared his father had been more present, and when Hawkmoth had appeared his father had suddenly had a heavy workload again...

But that could be explained away, he thought. The death could be an unlucky coincidence, and who wants to do extra work when their wife has just died? And then who’s to say that his father couldn’t get back into work again by the time Hawkmoth had appeared? No, that could make sense.

His father HAD been really interested in his ring, though --.

No.

Gabriel Agreste COULDN’T be Hawkmoth. Chat didn’t have any proof of it, but he knew it to be true. Sure, the man was distant, but that didn’t mean he was evil. After all, Chat still had memories of his father sitting him on his lap and letting him color a design he’d made. He could still remember all the times his father had shifted aside in bed so he could cuddle after a nightmare. How could a man like that be evil?

How could a man like that knowingly endanger his son every day?

No. There were other people.

Sure, there were only a few people he could consider himself close to, but that didn’t mean he never talked to anyone outside of his family, servants, Kagami, and Chloe. As an Agreste, he’d attended many different balls and galas and even business meetings to represent his family, he was acquainted with plenty other rich people.

Yeah. There were other options. He was just jumping to conclusions because of the Traitor Scare a few days beforehand. Yeah. It was someone else. It had to be.

Rena had been the one to escort Master Fu home. Maybe it was to question him further, they didn’t know. They were all pretty sure they didn’t want to ask, though, because she came home looking even more dejected than before.

When she got back she took a seat on the table. Chat had perched himself in the window. Chloe had laid across the couch, legs in Ladybug’s lap. Carapace had slung himself across the armchair.

Despite the disparity in their positions, however, all their faces had the same contemplative look.

Rena was the first one to speak: “Fuck that guy, am I right?”

Ladybug laughed a little, though it sounded forced. “Yeah. All I’m getting is that the bitch didn’t use to have child heroes.”

There was a beat, and then Carapace sat up suddenly. “Wait a minute, you’re right! Pieris was an adult!”

“It’s probably because kids are easier to manipulate,” said Chloe quietly. All eyes fell on her. “Think about it. Chat, Ladybug, and Carapace never really defend themselves -- Carapace defends other people, sure, but he wasn’t close enough to any of us to bother before. Rena and I both started out practically worshiping at least one of you guys. For one reason or another, we were all pretty easy to manage.”

The silence that followed the statement was deafening.

The longer they stewed in it the angrier they got and the luckier they were that Hawkmoth had already used up his akumitization of the day.

“Can’t believe that he did this to stop me from retiring -- actually, no, I can believe it,” muttered Carapace. “I shouldn’t have told him I was thinking about leaving for college. Should’ve just applied, made a public statement, and then dropped the bracelet on his doorstep… damn him...”

Rena laughed bitterly. “‘Damn him’ is right. Really, though, I should’ve known he was fucked from the start. Who the hell goes up to someone and says ‘I have been looking for a person like you for a while now’?”

“You punched him, right?” Said Chloe with a frown.

“Obviously. I punched him and ran. Went the wrong way, though, and ended up cornered in an alley.”

“You definitely should’ve been wary of him after that one,” agreed Ladybug. “If he had done that to me I wouldn’t have trusted anything he tried to put on my neck even if I saw a God coming out of it... maybe I would’ve trusted him less if that happened, actually.”

“Things have gone downhill since I was recruited, apparently.” Chat said with a weak grin, and Ladybug nodded her agreement. “I had to save him from getting run over. Which was stupid, might I add. What if I hadn’t looked up in time? Did he have a backup plan or was he just going to let himself get hit if I didn’t notice?”

“Wait, go back. You had to save him from a car?” Said Chloe. “I had to pick up his cane for him! Where was my super cool trial?”

“I think I can answer both of you guys’ questions…”

Everyone looked at Carapace, but he was determinedly looking at his phone.

“Well, for one, no, he did not have a backup plan.”

Rena’s hand flew to her mouth. “You let him get hit?!”

Carapace winced. “Okay, wait, hold up. I did not ‘let him get hit’. I just… didn’t notice that he was in danger until he was hit, there’s a difference.”

Ladybug and Chat looked at each other and their eyes widened as they realized something at the same time.

“Oh my kwami, are you the reason he has to use a cane?”

He didn’t seem to hear this, apparently very interested in something on his phone.

“Are you the reason he has to use a cane?” Chat repeated.

Still nothing.

“Carapace… Carapace… please tell me you’re not the reason,” said Ladybug. Her voice wobbled with either laughter or tears, Chat wasn’t sure.

Apparently their friend had gone deaf without them noticing.

Chloe’s eyes were alight with what was definitely laughter. “Your first day was even worse than mine!”

“PLEASE,” said the no longer deaf Carapace. He briefly set his phone down to count off on his fingers: “Let’s see… revealed your identity, covered half the city with honey, nearly crashed a train, got akumatized --.”

He never got to finish, because Chloe had thrown herself at him and started trying to smother him with a pillow.

“That’s a throw pillow, Chlo, you’re supposed to throw them,” supplied Rena.

He tried to yell something through the pillow, probably ‘traitor’, but it sounded like “Huhu!”

Chat smiled and walked over to Carapace’s fallen phone and started recording.

There was no context for the video that showed up on Carapace’s account that night.

All the people of Paris got was a video of Chloe and Carapace rolling around on the floor, laughing as they took part in what was essentially a pillow fight at that point.

Rena was in the background. She was goading them on, yelling encouragement for whoever she wanted and switching sides at the drop of a hat.

Ladybug was also there, her lips pressed together thinly in an attempt to hide a smile as she made eye contact with the camera and gave an eyeroll.

Chat’s laughter, which had been a soft but constant sound throughout the video, picked up briefly at the eyeroll.

The video cut.

Despite his exhaustion, he hadn’t been able to sleep. So, at four in the morning, he shuffled downstairs with a blanket wrapped around himself.

He started towards the kitchen for something to eat, only to stop cold when he heard a quiet scraping sound from inside.

The lights were still off in the kitchen… and everyone should have been asleep or out on patrols...

Many thoughts ran through his head. Hawkmoth could be back. Robbers could be in the house.

He pulled out his phone and transformed. If it was people robbing the place he’d need proof for the police, and if it was Hawkmoth Rena would kill him if he didn’t get a picture (if Hawkmoth didn’t kill him first, of course).

He started recording and then walked to the door, flicking the light on.

Ladybug was sitting on the counter in a Totoro onesie, eating mac and cheese straight from the pot.

He relaxed and let his phone arm fall limply to his side. “Oh, it’s just you.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I was hungry.”

“I can see that.” He realized something as she pulled more food to her mouth and he squinted just to make sure. “Is that… is that brown?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Put coffee in it.”

He was tempted to try and clean out his ears, because there was no way she should have been able to say that so nonchalantly.

“WHY?!”

“Wanted to see if it tasted better.”

He stared at her, trying to gauge if she was messing with him… and then, because he simply had to know, he asked: “And… and does it?”

She looked down at the abomination she had created sadly.

“No.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali

#a miraculous tiktok account #chat noir #adrien agreste #rena rouge #alya cesaire #queen bee #chloe bourgeois #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #carapace #nino lahiffe #miraculous team #miraculous fic #ml fic #mlb #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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sarcasm-with-a-side-of-fries · 3 years ago

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The one that got away

Ship: Spencer Reid/Derek Morgan (past)

Description: once upon a time they where young and in love convinced they’d last forever… who knew forever had an expiration date.

Warning: Mentions of drug abuse.

Summer after high school when we first met

They met in a coffee down the street from Spencer’s

college, the college student and the cop. They both had something to prove to the world back then.

We'd make out in your Mustang to Radiohead

Derek won him over with charming smiles and smooth words, before he knew it they were stumbling into the backseat of Derek’s car.

“Mmm, Derek, someone will see!” Derek had only chuckled covering Spencer’s mouth with his own again.

And on my 18th birthday we got matching tattoos

Young dumb and stupid they had gotten tattoos the day Spencer turned twenty, “навсегда мой” Russian for “forever mine” on their ankles. If only they’d known how untrue that would turn out to be.

Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof

Talk about our future like we had a clue

Fran Morgan adored Spencer enough to turn a blind eye when she saw him and Derek climb up the fire escape. “Someday I’m gonna marry you.” Derek promised.

“It’s not legal.” Spencer had whispered back.

“Yet.” Was all Derek replied with taking a swing from a whiskey bottle stolen out of the kitchen.

Never planned that one day I'd be losing you

The day they broke was the worst day of Spencer’s life, a fact that would never change.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Derek had snapped waving his hands wildly.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer whispered. “I love you.”

“Love just isn’t enough this time Spencer.”

Derek was gone the next day. Bomb squad had offered him a position in Virginia.

In another life

I would be your girl (boy)

We'd keep all our promises

Be us against the world

Spencer wonders what would’ve happened if he had gone with Derek, what would’ve happened… he doesn’t know.

He imagines they’d someday get married, even if it never turned legal… some people did spiritual things and exchanged rings. Derek would’ve liked that.

In another life it would be them against the world. In this life they’re alone. That’s okay. It has to be.

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were

The one that got away

In another universe twenty one year old Spencer had all the words needed to make Derek stay.

In this universe… he didn’t. He never did.

I was June and you were my Johnny Cash

Never one without the other, we made a pact

Sometimes when I miss you I put those records on (whoa)

When they’d been young, they had made one promise that was impossible to keep in the end.

“You and me, against the world, as a team, forever.” Derek was a little drunk at the time Spencer will admit.

“Forever doesnt exist.”

“I’ll prove you wrong on that one pretty boy.”

There’s only one time in Spencer’s life that he wished to be wrong and he wasn’t.

Someone said you had your tattoo removed

The first time he sees Derek again (which is weird because he didn’t think he would ever see Derek again) he notices a couple things.

His hair is much shorter than it was when they were young, he’s a little bulkier, his smile is fake- it’s the one he used to use when sweet talking their way out of danger, the one that stings the most though is that his tattoo is gone. Spencer vows to never let Derek see that he kept his.

Saw you downtown singing the blues

It's time to face the music, I'm no longer your muse

They’re rather awkward around each other but the team assumes that it’s just another quirk of Spencer’s, no one reads between the lines something they can both be grateful for.

He pretends that his heart doesn’t ache when Derek leaves bars with others, he doesn’t have a right to be in pain. It’s been two years and… it was all his fault in the end.

But in another life

I would be your girl (boy)

We'd keep all our promises

Be us against the world

In another life

I would make you stay

Working with Derek is hard- it hurts. It makes him wonder, drags old feelings he doesn’t want up.

Working now with Derek and the FBI tells him something he didn’t know when he was younger, it tells him that if he went with Derek they would’ve made it. He’d always have ended up at the FBI he thinks… it’s just how that’s the question.

So I don't have to say you were

The one that got away

The one

The one that got away

Jayjay is the only one who ever notices… the only one who ever gets to know. “What happened between you and him?”

“I didn’t meet Derek Morgan for the first time when I walked through those doors.” The words are quiet, a secret whispered into the night. “He’s the one who got away as you would say.”

“I didn’t know…”

“No one does.”

“Did Gideon?”

“I don’t know. If he did he never said anything about it to me.”

All this money can't buy me a time machine, no

Can't replace you with a million rings, no

When he falls victim to addiction… it’s so hard to stop taking the drug.

He does, eventually. When he realises that being hitch isn’t a time machine… it can’t change the past but it could destroy his future.

I should've told you what you meant to me (whoa)

'Cause now I pay the price

When he’s locked in that room with the Anthrax he almost tells Derek that he still loves him. He almost apologizes.

He can see that Derek still cares- he knows that his death would destroy his long lost lover. In the end he stays quiet… but tells Penelope if he dies to let Derek have his journals from college. She’s confused by the request but promises nonetheless.

In another life

I would be your girl (boy)

We'd keep all our promises

Be us against the world

In another life he wouldn’t be too cowardly to tell Derek everything… in another life he might fix it. He might try to make it alright.

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were

The one that got away

The one (the one)

They never talk about it. It’s never brought up. It’s a history they don’t speak of… they can’t. Speaking of it makes it real… makes the past the past…

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were

The one that got away

In another life they live happily ever after,

In this one they live as once upon a time lovers,

Best friends who used to be more.

That’s enough. It has to be.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #Moreid #angst #pain #hurt no comfort #I wrote angst #song fic

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longitud-de-onda · 5 years ago

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on a universal constant, falling off the bottom of the earth

pairing; javier peña x female reader summary; you and javier were best friends but life pulled you in separate directions. javi’s now just returned from colombia and you both find yourselves driving out to a spot in the desert in the middle of the night rating; t warnings; a subtle brand of depression, an existential crisis, some stuff that might be triggering if you’re suicidal or have a deep fear of death, so much angst you’ll probably want to sue me word count; 6.0k universal constant masterlist

July meant hot night air, so you leave your house and start up the truck, taking your time to wind through the streets. You don’t stop when you reach the edge of town, starting down the country road. There are no streetlights, just the great expanse of dirt and rock that rises into towering formations on either side. There’s no one else on the road. You’re too far away from anywhere anyone would want to be.

The clear night sky out in the country has always been your favorite sight. The shades of deep purple and blue dotted with millions of stars have always fascinated you. When you were a kid you would climb up to your roof, spend hours lying up there questioning how far away every star was. You would wonder how big the universe was. Sometimes, you would imagine your house hanging off the bottom of Earth, an upwards gravitational pull the only thing keeping you from falling forever down into the dark.

You’re much older now. You had drifted in and out of your home, off to college for some time. Coming back.

You tried not to think about space like that anymore.

In the distance, you can see the white light of a gas station approaching slowly. By the time the sign saying it’s a mile out arrives you’re already slowing down. You pull into the harsh glow, parking the truck and jumping down onto the asphalt. The hot dry air hits you hard. It’s not the invasive, sticky, painful heat. It’s soft and a light breeze caresses your bare arms to remind you that it could be much worse.

You enter the convenience store, struck by the realization of exactly where you are.

It’s like you’re on autopilot as you walk to the back of the store, straight to the refrigerators, pulling out a six-pack of the off-brand soda you used to drink as a teen. It has been longer than you can even remember since you last tasted the sweet liquid, and you wondered if it would still taste the same.

You grabbed a bag of jerky and a pack of M&Ms on your way to the register.

The guy working wears the same teal vest the guys did all those years ago. The same acne riddled face of a teenager asks if you want a bag, the same careless voice. Almost like nothing has changed in twenty years except the music playing over the speakers. Who the hell would sign up to work all the way out here?

You suppose you’d have applied had you been ten years younger and unemployed.

You’re back on the road, driving away from the light, further into the emptiness of the desert. It’s easy to let your mind wander. Why couldn’t you fall asleep? Why did you leave the safety of your home? What was calling you to drive in this direction?

It’s not a conscious decision that causes you to pull off the road, begin driving on a dirt path that hardly exists anymore, more like muscle memory. No longer does the familiar route have the worn-out path, free of shrubs, and you wince every time you have to run over another plant.

The headlights cast long shadows across the prickly bushes. Sticks and small rocks are illuminated like devilish hands grabbing at the tires. Plumes of dust rising behind you restrict any view out your review mirror. A small animal, possibly a fox but you’re not entirely sure, darts across the trail along the point where the light fades into the black again, the motion causing you to slam the brakes.

You start up once more, your truck bumping across the desert, out towards the hill that rises up in front of you.

What’s drawing you back here, you’re not sure. A sick sense of nostalgia? Or a state of mind you haven’t allowed yourself to acknowledge since you were a teen?

Even though it’s been years since you returned from college, you haven’t come back here since one August night after senior year.

You stop the vehicle at the base of the hill. A few deep breaths center you. You stuff the food into your pockets, grab your purse off the passenger seat, along with the cans of soda. They’ve grown slick with condensation and while you can do nothing to stop the goosebumps that crop up on your skin, as soon as you exit the truck and reenter the summer heat, the cold feels good. You lower the cans to touch your thigh, allowing yourself to close your eyes and take in the sensation of cold aluminum brushing up against you.

Slamming the door closed and locking the truck, you begin to hike up the hill, stopping only when you reach a large flat outcropping of rock.

You walk out onto the boulder, sinking into a sitting position on the smooth stone.

When you were a teen, you and Javier would come out here

Every time Javi’s mom would come back down from her near-permanent high, once a month or so to show up for some baseball game or to take him out for dinner, she and Chucho would start screaming at each other the whole night. Javi would throw a stone up at your window and you’d slip out onto the roof, jumping down to the ground and you’d drive out, pocketing handfuls of pebbles on the hike up to your rock. You’d take turns throwing them as far as you could. Each time screaming out the name of someone or something that had hurt you.

The one day where Javi beat up Niles Breckinridge ‘cause he kept asking you out and you kept saying no and he decided to corner you in the girl’s locker room. How Javi found out what he was doing you had no idea, but Niles was on the floor, nose bleeding, and Javi’s knuckles were bruised when he grabbed your hand and you ran out to your car, the two of you laughing and crying as you hit the highway, skipping class to drive out to the middle of nowhere.

When your parents started screaming about your grades you had shown up at Javi’s doorstep, crying, and he led you to the passenger seat of his car. You drove in silence until just past the gas station, and up on this boulder, over canned beer and Starbursts, everything came spilling out: the way Mr. Wallace wouldn’t give you any grade higher than a C unless you wore that low cut top to school once a week, how Mr. Chapman wouldn’t explain why you got an F on every single essay even when you asked him how you could improve your grade, how Mrs. Hayes didn’t like you because you were the only kid in Spanish class who didn’t grow up speaking the language, so your accent was terrible, how Ms. Gordon would let you rewrite any essay you wanted but never offer any advice on how to improve things, how Mr. Phillips didn’t care that you could do more push-ups than at the beginning of the year, only that you still could do the least in the class. And as your tears hit the flat stone overlooking the desert, you stared up at the sky and Javi lay next to you. You laid like that for hours that day, not touching, just side by side, existing in each others’ presence.

The time you found Javi crying at the park, having been dumped by Morgan Powell, and even though you hadn’t spoken in weeks cause he didn’t want to spend any time with you anymore, he didn’t complain when you held his hand, walked with him to your truck, and found yourselves out in the middle of nowhere. He climbed down the hill to grab a blanket from the car and only for those three minutes he was gone did you let yourself cry.

The night before Javi left for Texas A&M you spent the entire night out here, watching the sunrise before you climbed back down to the car, and you fell asleep on the drive home. That was your last chance to tell Javi that somewhere along the line you had fallen in love, and you never had the guts to say it. He was gone by the end of the day.

It wasn’t fair, but you were leaving too, thousands of miles away. One of the only kids to leave the state. You had managed to turn your grades around and were headed up to New York to attend Vassar the next week, and you didn’t come home for summer break that year or the next. The third summer you got a job at the pool. You saw Javi a couple times, as you sat upon your lifeguard’s chair and he brought a different girl every week, hands flying all over their bikini-clad bodies. After the PDA got a little less family-friendly, they’d disappear. Halfway through the summer, he brought along Lorraine Crawford, your middle school best friend who ditched you as soon as you entered high school, and she kept coming back, week after week.

Javi never noticed you sitting up there watching his every move like a hawk. You had drifted far from his life, and you weren’t sure if you really knew him anymore.

You came back home after you graduated, got a job in the town center, bought a house, didn’t have to speak to your parents again after they moved away. You became a regular at the diner down the block, and you stopped by the coffee shop on Main Street every morning before work. Some of the people you knew from high school would invite you out to the bar every weekend. You’d go.

Javi became a police officer. Some nights you’d see him on the other side of the bar. You weren’t friends anymore and you weren’t really sure when you stopped. Probably long before that last night on the rock.

One day a fancy letter showed up in your mail. Nice paper, frilly letters. A wedding invitation. It came with a handwritten note, not from Javier, but Lorraine. You almost RSVP’d with a no.

The church was beautiful and happy, and more than a few people there from high school surprised you with friendly words. You were contemplating going to the reception as you waited for the procession. You weren’t close to Lorraine or Javier. Not anymore. Free food didn’t seem worth inserting yourself somewhere you didn’t belong.

A half-hour after the ceremony was set to begin someone announced that Javier hadn’t shown up. The wedding wouldn’t be happening. As you walked out of the building you could hear Lorraine crying. A month later the word around town was that Javier had moved to Colombia.

You look out into the dark desert. The smell of sage is potent in the heat, and a lone pair of headlights appear in the distance. You watch the car as it speeds along before the red taillights of the other side of the vehicle disappear into the opposite horizon.

You pop open a can of soda.

It’s a mechanical sound that contrasts the soft whisper of the wind and the snakes, a few birds in the distance, and the low hum of insects.

It’s never quiet out here but this background noise is the only thing that has ever truly calmed you.

The taste of soda brings back more memories you thought had been lost. The early days on the playground with Javi, two six-year-olds climbing to the top of the structure as your parents both call out for you to get down. When you were eleven the two of you ran a lemonade stand for the whole summer, saving up to buy yourselves bikes.

It wasn’t until Javi turned sixteen and instead of wandering the streets to avoid your families, he could drive you out of town, floating between convenience stores and rest stops for hours. It wasn’t long before you discovered this spot up here.

This rock became your spot. A sanctuary.

What drew you here after all those years, you weren’t sure. You rip open the pack of jerky, letting the tangy scent fill the air.

Why didn’t you ever come back? The hot desert air is like a healing bath, seeping into your body as you gaze at the stars. After Javi left you had dated guys, spent evenings with friends, and lived your life. But you sit here now wondering what has happened with all the time. Had you been really living? Or just wandering through a haze?

The truth was, you knew why you never came back.

These memories were too painful to have sorted through any earlier. A whole life, wasted, as you fell away from the one person you loved as a teenager and never truly climbed back up from.

Another pair of headlights appear in the distance, cutting a line across the brush. The car slows straight ahead of you and pulls off the road, heading towards where you sit. You glance down at your truck below. There isn’t enough time to get down there and into your car before whoever it is reaches you. Your hand slips into your purse, grasping around the canister of pepper spray.

If you’re lucky, they aren’t headed up to your rock.

The car pulls up and stops alongside your truck. You jump at the sound of the door slamming and peer down.

You’d recognize that leather jacket anywhere, even in the penumbra of the headlights of his car before they flick off. You didn’t know he was back.

Another sip of soda. Waiting. The sound of rocks sliding down the hill. A couple crunches of dirt under shoes. Plastic against stone as you pick up the bag of jerky. Metal against stone when you set down your can. Deep, slow breaths. Dark leather boots next to your leg, tapping against the rock. A low groan. Javi sitting next to you.

You keep staring off at the horizon, your chest rising and falling. The last time you were actually really with Javi you were 18. His car parked in front of your house. 8:30am. He jostled your shoulder, pulling you up from your slumped position against the window as you slept. You got out, the blanket still wrapped around you and he hugged you on your front lawn. He whispered goodbye to you, and you were too tired to say anything back.

All the other times your paths had crossed it had been in silence and at a distance. Years and years of nothing. You had everything to say to him but you weren’t sure if any of it was worth saying. The man sitting beside you used to be an extension of yourself. Now he’s a stranger.

You pull a cold can out of the plastic rings, extending it towards Javi.

“Soda?”

“Thanks.” He grabs the can, his fingers brushing against yours. Enough to feel how rough they were.

You had imagined his voice would be the same as the lanky teen he was back then. It hadn’t even crossed your mind that it would be this much lower, deeper, hoarser. Hesitant.

A hiss then the pop comes. Your gaze shifts over to watch his hands. They’re so big around the small can and he lifts it up to his lips to take a sip. Finally, after all this time, you get to give Javi a good look. The years have treated him well. The Colombian sun leaving a deep bronze tone, his face a far cry from the clean-shaven boy he once was. You had seen him after college, after he grew out the mustache and his hair darkened, face filling out into an even more handsome one. But in the time since then, a few lines have been left in his forehead and around his eyes. Still doesn’t make him any less beautiful.

“Haven’t had one these in ages,” he says.

You look away, not responding. What could you say? What was there to talk about? Could one night up here possibly cover even a portion of what had happened?

Then in a terrifying moment, your brain puts something forward that shakes you to your core.

Did he even want to talk to you anymore? Or had you grown so far apart that there was nothing left?

Javi sets down his can and shrugs off his jacket, throwing it to the side. You can feel him staring at you, but can’t bring yourself to break your gaze at the sky. You lean back, lying on the cool stone. All you can think of is how the distance between you and Javier feels further than you and those stars.

“You know, sometimes during stakeouts, looking over Bogotá? I would pretend we were up here. Staring out over the desert like we did when we were kids. I’d wonder if you were lookin’ up at the same stars I was.” His voice cracks momentarily and he lets out a shaky breath. “I’d always think about how you’d talk about falling off the bottom of the earth.”

You press your eyes closed, blocking out the deep expanse of the universe. The speed at which you were zooming back to Javi was too goddamn fast. How can he say that? How can he think about you when he hardly gave you the time of day after you both left home for the first time. When he wasn’t even the one to invite you to his own wedding.

“Do you come up here often?” he says.

You still haven’t said more than a word since he got up here. You’re not sure if the honest answer is the one he wants. You say it anyway.

“No. Last time was with you.” You try to hide the fact that tears are streaming down your face but he wasn’t fooled by that when you were kids, he wasn’t going to be fooled now. It’s easier to let the tears show through in your voice than hide them as you say, “Did you bring Lorraine up here?”

He’s quiet and you hear the burbling hunting call of a quail. Then a soft rustling as he lays back onto the stone too.

“Why would I do that?” he asks.

You have the guts now to tilt your head over and give him that questioning look.

“Why wouldn’t you? You seemed to love her. Back before, you know...”

Once again he’s quiet. The sky seems to have lost any of the reddish tinges, leaving only the deepest ocean blue. You wish it was the ocean. Maybe if it was it wouldn’t make you think so much. You could just stare and stare and empty your mind.

A breeze blows by and you shiver, cold for the first time this whole night.

“Yeah, well. Didn’t seem right, you know? This is our spot,” he says.

You push yourself back up, staring back down at him.

“Our spot?” you ask. “Javi, is there even an ‘us’ anymore?”

You place your elbows on top of your crossed legs and rest your forehead on your hands. You were always too quick to get worked up. Too fast to think through the things you said. Javi had extended an olive branch and you may have snapped it in half.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“No, I’m sorry. We drifted, I don’t know.” He sits back up beside you. “You never sent a letter and I didn’t either. That first summer back you weren’t there. After the second I thought you didn’t want to see me. Stopped looking, I guess. That’s on me.”

“I was back the third summer, you know?” you say, “I was a lifeguard at the pool. Watched you come in with Lorraine week after week.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.” You don’t say how you watched him with all the other girls too.

“After I graduated, thought I might come back. Say hello. I heard Vassar already graduated, so if you were back, you’d be there. Your parents’ place was empty.”

“They moved out. I bought a house closer to town.” You picked up your soda again and took a sip.

“I saw you at the bars a couple times.”

“So did I. You never said hi.”

“You didn’t either,” he says.

You pull out the bag of M&Ms from your pocket. Javi laughs. It sounds clear in the middle of the night. The only competition for airwaves is the quails. You fiddle with the edge of the plastic before it glides open, and you dump a few of the chocolates into your palm.

“Of course you were hiding those.” You can hear the smile in Javi’s voice.

You hold out the bag to him and he extends a palm, allowing you to pour some into his hand.

Looking down at your own collection, you push the candies into colored categories as best you can in the desaturated night light.

“You know, I was at your wedding. Lorraine sent me the invitation. Said you didn’t add me to the guest list but she thought you’d want me there anyway. I was sitting there in the pews as the time ticked and nothing happened. And you know what? I wasn’t getting worried about you not showing up. That never crossed my mind.” You take a breath. “I was sitting there debating whether or not I should go to the reception. Make the two of you speak to someone you both had fallen out of touch with. It didn’t seem fair.”

“You were there?” he sounds distant, voice shaking a bit and you glance over to see his gaze glazed over, fixated on some spot in the desert.

“Yeah. Lorraine was really torn apart after that. We went out for drinks a week later. She asked me what the hell was wrong with you. I didn’t have an answer,” you say. “We made up. She was an asshole in high school, but so were so many others. I forgave her. When she got married to Randy, I was one of her bridesmaids.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t invite you,” he says. You think he’s going to say more. Give an explanation. Nothing comes.

“Why’d you do it?”

“Not invite you? Or leave Lorraine?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Both, I guess?”

He exhales. You’re putting him on the spot, you know that. But that’s what this hill is for. It’s where you say the tough stuff. You let each other cry. It’s the place where you let yourselves feel without voicing half of it because the other knows exactly what you’re going through.

It still wasn’t comfortable enough to let you say the toughest thing of all.

And worse, right now, you have no idea what’s running through Javi’s mind.

“I couldn’t bring her into all of it,” he starts. “I had been in the DEA for a year by then. Knew the tough shit I’d have to do. If I was going to go up any higher, I was scared I’d be putting her in danger. And part of it was that I was just an asshole. Guess I still am.”

You pour out a few more M&Ms into your palm. The red ones go near your fingers, next yellow, then green, blue, and brown. All the way down to the heel of your hand. You eat the red ones first. One by one.

“You’re not. You might have been to Lorraine, but you’re not. You care, Javi.” You look over and he’s still focusing on some little spot in the distance.

“I am though. You don’t know what I’ve done. Down in Colombia. I—I did things you wouldn’t have liked.” He stopped to put an M&M in his mouth. A few minutes passed as he chewed the remaining candy in his palm, one by one. Then washed them down with the soda. “I killed people. And my decisions left even more dead. I did so many bad things.”

“Why?” You swallow.

“You used to not ask that.”

He was right. You used to say things. No explanations needed. You both had grown. “I don’t feel like I can read you as well as I used to.”

Javi sets down his can on the rock. The soft clink seems to echo across the sweeping land. You wouldn’t be surprised if the guy at the gas station heard it.

“I had to do a lot of the things,” he whispers. “Did a lot of the other things to forget the things I had to do.”

You look over him as he closes his eyes. You think you see a tear fall down the side facing away from you, but he tilts his head away.

“I’m sorry,” you say. You didn’t use to say that either.

“Wasn’t your fault.”

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that. Alone. You know?”

Javi deserved people in his life. He had gone through so much shit as a kid; to have to go through even more as an adult, it wasn’t fair.

“You mean Lorraine?” Your heart aches when you hear the way Javi says her name. It’s different from the way he says yours. Different emotions. You suppose that’s what his voice sounds like when he says the name of someone he loves.

You don’t fucking mean Lorraine though. You’re tiptoeing around it, but you mean you.

“No, I just mean anyone. You might not have wanted to bring her into all of it but maybe you needed to have brought someone. So you didn’t feel so alone.”

If it was anyone else sitting next to him, they wouldn’t notice the way his hand shakes, the empty can making no noise, but it’s not anyone else. Maybe Lorraine would have noticed too.

You wish Javi had reached out to you, all those years ago when he thought you didn’t care. Maybe you could have gotten to be part of his life, even if you weren’t in the front row, you could still be in the theater. Not sitting in the parking lot, crying in your car. At least that’s what these past twenty years or so have felt like.

Underneath all the stars he looks so small. You both do. You want to hug him. Or something. You can’t even bring yourself to nudge his foot with yours.

“Never said I felt alone,” he says.

“You didn’t have to.”

You feel the tears in the corners of your eyes and you try to blink them dry. It doesn’t work. You love Javi so much that if he really wanted to be with Lorraine, you were going to be there and make sure he was happy. But in the end, that wasn’t what he wanted.

It’s weird how having someone suddenly back in your life can make it feel like everything is right again. Like your entire existence has felt so pointless because he wasn’t part of it. You never believed in soulmates, but you thought that maybe someone was right when they decided that you’re bonded to someone in life. That their presence would make you whole again. They were just wrong in believing the other person would always love you back.

“I didn’t invite you because I didn’t know if you cared anymore. I felt we were too far apart that I wouldn’t matter,” he says. “I was scared you didn’t care anymore.”

“We could not speak for 50 years and I’d still want to be at your wedding, Javi. You’ve always mattered.” That was it, wasn’t it? Javi was always what mattered.

When your life felt like everything was falling apart as it always seems to when you’re a teen, he was always there to catch you. And you caught him too. Time and time again. And then your lives parted ways and you started falling with no net. Javi mattered.

“Why’d you come out here?” he asks.

“What?”

“Why’d you come all the way out here when you haven’t been back since we were 18?”

“Did you ever come back? Until today?” Even without Lorraine, you assume he might have. But maybe he’s like you. It hurt too much to come out here. Almost like you couldn’t without Javi. Not until tonight. And well, the universe seems to have had other plans.

“No,” he says. Simple.

“I couldn’t sleep. It was too hot and I was too alone. My house felt too small. Had to get out. I didn’t even realize where I was going until I reached the gas station.” You pull out another can from the pack and flip up the tab.

If you’re being honest with yourself, it tastes terrible. Like a Coke gone wrong. But it also tastes like nights up here with Javi. You don’t think a single time you came up you didn’t at least share a can. You used to each have an emergency case in the trunks of your cars. Even when you came up to drink beer and dance and tell each other about the things going on, there was always a can of soda.

“Guess I had a feeling. I needed to get out,” you continue.” Tonight was just the night where I finally let myself need this. Didn’t even know you were back.”

“Only got back a few hours ago.”

No. A few hours ago? He woke up yesterday in Colombia and was now sitting here at 3am on a rock hanging over the desert with you?

“What?” you ask. “And this is the first place you went?”

“I dropped off my things with my dad.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Then yeah. First place I guess.”

He comes back and the first place he goes is here? What does that even mean?

He’s facing you now and you grin and raise your eyebrows. “Why?”

“Guess I had a feeling,” he mocks back.

“Why up here. Why this first?” You’re not voicing the real question. Why is the first thing something that means you?

He reaches over, grabbing the bag of jerky and pulling out a piece. He puts it in his mouth and rips off a chunk. You know what he’s like when he doesn’t want to answer a question he knows the response to.

You stare back out and watch a car cross the desert. Then another. You lie back down, staring up at the stars again. And Javi still says nothing.

“Maybe there’s a parallel universe out there where everything’s the same but we can both end up here but on different nights and not find each other.”

He doesn’t say anything but you can see him tilting up his head.

“Or maybe this rock is just a universal constant. Like in every version of Earth, one of us can’t spend a night here without the other. It just isn’t allowed.”

Your favorite thing about the night sky is how out here on a clear night, you can see the milky way, a saturated strip of stars belting across the dome. The fact that it’s so damn big has always scared you. You say as much to Javi.

“I’ve always been scared that we’re so small. That we mean nothing. If best friends can go from being everything to being strangers who avoid each other and don’t notice when the other is watching and the only people that care are the two friends themselves, who’s to say anyone cares about us? Maybe we’re all alone. A little rock flying around a bigger burning rock that somehow bubbled up intelligent life, an intergalactic anomaly... A little sphere that doesn’t care that my life feels pointless, and my life feels pointless because of that.”

“Your life isn’t pointless.”

“Then what is it? Because ever since college I don’t know what I’ve been doing. Stuck in my hometown, in love with all the people who don’t love me back.” It’s the first time for the night you know Javi can’t see you crying. Your voice is stable enough to hide it, and he’s sitting up, looking away from you. “And I guess it’s all fine cause I’m going to exist in this little millisecond on a cosmic scale and no one gives two shits if I live or die.”

“I do.”

“Do you, Javi? Because it didn’t seem like you were ever really looking. I could have disappeared and it would have been all the same.”

He’s quiet again and you think that it’s because on some level he knows you’re right.

“There was another reason I left Lorraine at the altar,” he says. You’re not sure if he’s answered more than one of your damn questions the whole night, only saying things that crop up new ones.

“That girl is amazing. She didn’t deserve to be someone’s second choice.”

“Second choice?” you ask.

“Yeah,” his voice shakes and you sit up again, realizing that he’s crying.

You reach out to touch his shoulder. “Javi—”

He turns away from you. Then he’s leaning on his far arm, pushing himself up. You grasp at his wrist, hoping he’ll stay. Just long enough to finish this. He pulls out of your grip. And he still hasn’t explained himself.

“Javi,” you breathe out. “Stay? Just tonight. You never have to see me again after this. Please?”

That gets him to stop. “What if I want to see you again?”

You turn around looking up at him. The starlight shines against the longitudinal lines on his cheeks. He looks so much like the kid you grew up with.

You stand up, grabbing his jacket off the ground and handing it to him. You can’t make the same mistake you did when you were 18.

“You don’t have to stay, Javi. I’m sorry. You can go. It doesn’t matter what you meant by second choice. I don’t want to push you. I just, that last night? When we were kids? It was my last chance to tell you something and I didn’t have the guts to say it. And by the time I saw you again, it’d been a few years and you were bringing all the other girls to the pool and I was too scared to even say hello.”

He’s holding the jacket limply in his arms. You’re sure you’ve never looked at Javi in the eyes like this ever before. All those nights and you’ve never looked into his eyes and shared the vulnerability that you do now and seen the same expression staring back at you.

“I love you.” It was so much easier than you had ever imagined. The scary thing was actually not saying the words, but staring into Javi as his face shifted.

It began with shock then awe then admiration, all familiar expressions that you had seen a thousand times before. Then it morphed into something you didn’t know as he dropped the jacket and put a hand in yours, spinning you out so you stood side by side instead of face to face, and led you to the edge of the rock. He let go for a moment and when his hand returned there was a stone in it, which he closed your fingers around.

“Having to wait until now to be with the person I love,” he whispers. You’re confused until he’s winding up and throwing something. His own rock.

Oh.

You look down at the rock in your hand.

“Not telling people you love them before you almost lose them,” you say. Your rock flies even farther.

You’re smiling and you look up at Javi. He’s grinning at you and his arms pull you in, wrapping you up and you return the embrace, pulling him close.

“I love you too.”

You nod against his shoulder and pull away, wanting to really look at him.

And in Javi’s eyes, you can see the reflection of thousands of stars, shining bright and big and far away, all contained within the beautiful dark you’ve looked into for what feels like your entire life, and you can now call it home.

-o-o-o-o-

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest @turquiosenights @el-lizzie @sparrows-books @dxxkxx @opheliaelysia @trashbin2 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @letaliabane @awesomefandomsunited

#javier peña #javier pena #narcos #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #camila writes #5-10 #ooooh haven't gotten to use that tag before #only been writing chapers and oneshots under 5k #or over 10k #reader #angst #pedro fics #narcos fics #javi x reader #if anyone is wondering #all the tags after camila writes are for my own purposes #so they're weird cause they can be

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geekgirles · 3 years ago

Text

Your Heart

Chapter 6 -- A Ghostophobe, a Giant Iguana, and Vegan Nacho Cheese

Word Count: 14402

READ ON AO3

As an aspiring astronaut, Danny’s dream had always been going to space.

Being able to look at the vastness of the universe, to literally look down on Earth and see every single country at once, to stargaze up close… All from the comfort of the space station as he leisurely floated around in zero gravity.

Really, that was all he asked for.

He was convinced he lost his chance when he got his powers.

Although not directly connected to his dream, the birth of Danny Phantom almost put his GPA in jeopardy several times. Before the accident, he used to be a good student, granted, not as good as Jazz, but he brought home good marks. But once the first sleepless night trying to catch rogue ghosts came, countless more were soon to follow.

Between the lack of sleep, being tardy to class or skipping it altogether, and many more instances of ‘teenage rebellion’ (all caused by his attempts to save everyone from malevolent spirits, not like anyone cared), Danny was sure his dreams of going to space had all but vanished before him.

There were no words capable of describing his joy when he miraculously pulled just the mark he needed to be accepted at Amity Park University’s Astrophysics degree. So what if he couldn’t go to a fancy college like Yale, or Stanford? That was Jazz’s dream, not his. Besides, studying at APU was perfect for protecting the town and getting access to the Ghost Zone.

He seriously doubted any of those preppy colleges would have granted him permission to build a ghost portal in their labs, anyway.

And so, he was closer to his dream than he’d thought he’d ever be during all of high school. During that time, he found solace in flying. Being one of the only two people in the whole world who could fly without help was even more special than being selected by NASA; a feat in itself. And it was so...liberating.

Even when he struggled most with his powers, just being able to fly made it all worth it. The immense relief that would envelop him whenever he just let the breeze guide him, lazily swaying in the sky and under the moonlight. The feeling he’d get whenever the adrenaline coursed through his veins as he picked up speed, sometimes even breaking the sound barrier when he felt like really challenging himself. Or just the chance to quiet the hectic voices ruling his life, even for just one moment: fight ghosts, save everyone, try to fit in, don’t let Mum and Dad find out what you are. Fight ghosts, save everyone, try to fit in, don’t let Mum and Dad find out what you are. Fight ghosts, save everyone, try toー

The mere chance to leave his worries behind, even for just a second, made the prospect of losing his one chance at his dream seem worth it.

Although...he did get the chance to be an astronaut during freshman year. But that was a story for another day.

Now, at twenty-one and with even more things to worry about, flying was still the one place he could find solace in. Tucker often told him that’d change the day he found himself a girlfriend, but let’s be real; who’d want to date someone like him?

Unlike high school, however, his problem wasn’t his look or his personality. The not-so-subtle glancesーwhich were almost predatory, might he addーand shameless gossiping and squealing he got from the girls around campus confirmed he’d grown from ‘Scrawny, Awkward Fenturd’, to ‘Tall, Dark, and Handsome Fenstud.’

The moniker stroked his ego, he wasn’t going to deny it. But the problem wasn’t his popularity with the opposite sex. The problem was how the opposite sex would react if they knew his secret.

Okay, maybe that was the wrong way to phrase that sentence. If the excited shrieking and squealing his alter ego received from the members of his fan club were anything to go by, any of those girls would faint in elation if they ever got the chance to date Danny Phantom. The polls from gossip magazines dedicated to discussing how hot the Ghost Boy was ーwhen were they gonna change that nickname to ‘Ghost Man’, anyway? When he was 40?!ー didn’t lie.

The real problem would come when his girlfriend got involved in his double life. And even if he wouldn’t want her to be involved, let alone fight ghosts alongside him like Tucker and Jazz did, deep down he knew it was inevitable. The moment his enemies found out he had a new girlfriend, they would use her to get to him. After all, what better way to defeat someone than to exploit his weakness? If Technus, of all people, could come up with that plan, anybody else could.

As he surveyed Amity Park from above, lost in his thoughts, Danny suddenly registered a source of heat coming from his right. Quickly swirling in the opposite direction to avoid the incoming projectile, a pink beam of ecto-energy, he quickly scanned his surroundings to identify his opponent. And judging by the way his Ghost Sense hadn't gone off, that could only be one person.

“Valerie.”

“It’s Red Huntress for you, spook!” A snarl, accompanied by another pink blast, came from above him. After blocking the attack with an ecto-shield, he looked up. Lo and behold, Valerie was hovering over him on her forked, black and red hoverboard, an ecto-gun protruding from her forearm and aimed directly at him.

Valerie Gray, also known as The Red Huntress. Amity Park’s most competent ghost hunter, after him. Who also happened to be his sorta-kinda-maybe-it’s-complicated ex-girlfriend. Or his S.K.M.I.C.E.G.F. for short.

Somehow, that acronym never had a good reception.

His story with Valerie was...an interesting one, to say the least. Their relationship was full of ups and downs, with the downs eventually becoming an integral and exclusive part of their interactions as Danny Phantom and The Red Huntress.

They started out as complete strangers. Well, not exactly. They both knew of each other back in the beginning to freshman year of high school, but they didn’t know each other. Valerie started out as another A-lister; haughty, self-centred, she made no effort to hide her disdain for those ‘bellow her.’ Of course, Danny, being Danny Fenton, one of the biggest losers in Casper High, was particularly low in her long list of those ‘bellow her.’

But that all changed thanks to a little ghost puppy he called Cujo.

Cujo was the ghost of a guard dog trained by Axion Labs, where Damon Gray, Valerie’s father, worked. They got rid of the dogs after upgrading the security system, with the misfortune of preparing the labs for any possible kind of assault, except for a ghost puppy with the ability to turn into a bigger, more menacing dog looking for his lost chew toy.

Needless to say, things could’ve gone better. If only because his accidental meddling had been indirectly responsible for Mr. Gray losing his job, the Grays losing their fortune and their house, Valerie falling from grace and losing her popularity, and her developing a huge grudge against all ghosts, especially him, that lasted well into present time.

If there were job applications for fucking people over that weren’t exclusively related to sex work, he’d be a pro.

As expected when someone dedicated their lives to hunting you, regardless of your attempts to befriend them or explain the situation, the two didn’t quite get along at first. Between Valerie’s newfound purpose to waste him and the fact that she never really acknowledged she’d been as terrible to him and Tucker as the A-listers were now with her, the two often butted heads even at school.

Their opinions of each other didn’t change until Skulker forced them to work together to survive his island and his attempts at hunting them both, when they actually had a heart-to-heart. Their civilian selves being simultaneously paired up for a Health class project also helped.

But what really changed things was the very same events that turned Danny Phantom into the Ghost King.

During Pariah Dark’s return, Danny Fenton and Valerie Gray really connected, and Danny learned to appreciate her in a whole new light. She was amazing while she fought Dark and the Fright Knight; the months she’d had to hone her abilities really shone through. Her attacks were intuitive, yet calculated. Her moves, nimble but they packed quite the punch. She was confident, and yet cautious enough to not get cocky.

As odd as it sounded, seeing her fight was incredibly hot.

...alright, so maybe he did have a thing for girls who could kick his ass. He blamed his dad for that one.

That day, something sparked between them...but only between Danny Fenton and Valerie; she still hated the Ghost Boy with every fiber of her being. She was positively furious when she found out he’d been chosen as the next ruler of the Ghost Zone.

Danny had to admit, anybody else with half a brain cell would have understood that crushing on a girl hellbent on destroying a part of him maybe wasn’t the best idea ever. Tucker and Jazz certainly thought so. But he was fourteen, hormones were high, and Valerie was the coolest girl he’d ever met so far, so…

Common sense be damned.

And so, they tried going out for some time. During those few dates the two went together he was over the moon, walking on air, he couldn’t believe his luck! He’d finally found a girl who liked him for him. Someone real and approachable, unlike his previous crushes on popular girlsーironically enough since Valerie herself used to be an unapproachable popular girl.

The universe itself seemed to want them to be together!

Not only did they dates suddenly get better thanks to some weird coincidenceーa blackout turning a dinner in a greasy diner into a romantic candle-lit evening, winning carnival tickets at the baseball game, the ferris wheel stopping at the most romantic point possibleーbut they seemed to be enough to get the idea inside Valerie’s head that maybe their relationship was worth giving up ghosthunting for.

Until Tucker, Jazz, and, surprisingly enough, Technus burst his little bubble. Turned out, Technus, who still didn’t respect him as his new ruler, seeing Valerie as a potential weakness, manipulated their relationship to keep him busy while he worked on his latest scheme.

The self-called ‘Master of Technology’ was also responsible for Valerie’s hatred of ghosts being renewed, for the destruction of her original suit followed by an upgrade to her current armor, and for Danny’s one-time experience in space (a happy coincidence).

Oh, and had he mentioned Technus’ meddling also led to Valerie breaking up with him before he could even ask her to go steady (hence the S.K.M.I.C.E.G.F. situation), giving him the most cliché excuse in the superheroing book, because she hated his ghost half more than she liked his human half?

Because it totally did.

Looking back, with Valerie’s icy glare set on him and a very menacing looking ecto-gun aimed straight at his forehead, maybe dating a ghost hunter set on killing him wasn’t his best idea. Fucking hormones…

“Look, Valerie, can we wrap this up? I’m really not in the mood.”

“Oh, we’ll wrap it up alright, Phantom,” she sneered, “with your ass in a body bag!” She shot at him again with the weapon protruding from her forearm. Seeing as the ghost only ducked the ecto-rays with relative difficulty, she changed tactics. Quickly typing down a command on her control panel, from between her fingers materialised three razor-sharp pink discs.

The moment her attention was focused elsewhere, Danny took the chance and flew off at top speed. Noticing his attempt to escape from the corner of her eye, refusing to let him get away, the Red Huntress stepped on the hidden button of her board’s body. With a whirring sound, the engines roared to life, allowing her to fly after him.

Once the Ghost Boy was within reaching distance and too busy trying to get away from her, with a swift motion of her arm, Valerie hurled the pink discs at him. At the sound of air being sliced, Danny turned his head just enough to notice the pink projectiles coming towards him from the corner of his eye. Maneuvering through the sky, he managed to dodge the first two, but as he ducked away from the second disc, the third came close enough to slice his upper arm.

Wincing in pain, not once stopping his flight, he cradled his arm to inspect the wound. Despite the oozing ectoplasm coming out of it, it was just a superficial cut. He’d live. As he registered the sudden heat approaching his back, Danny understood the only way to get rid of Valerie was fighting her.

As much as he hated fighting a friend, it was pointless to resist when said friend was trying to shoot holes into his body. And if he made the mistake of letting her get too close, he’d get caught in between her board’s forked ends, giving his chaser the perfect chance to activate the stinger and electrocute him.

“Hate to break it to you, Valerie. But I’m already dead, so body bags are pretty pointless!” Charging up his ecto-ray, hands glowing green, Danny shot in her direction, holding back just enough so Val would be forced to swirl around the sky to avoid getting hit. It was his signature move when facing off against Valerie: distract her with the need for an evasive maneuver in order to gain enough time to escape himself.

Just as he predicted, when the green rays of energy got closer to her, the Red Huntress willed her board to keep moving to the opposite direction of the blasts. What he hadn’t predicted, though, was that she’d change tactics and face the blasts head-on. The impact caused a plume of smoke to rise up in the air, hiding the girl from view.

Before he could fuss over her safety, however, Valerie rose up above him. Hunched down on her board before elegantly moving to stand tall, a smug grin on her face, she was surrounded by a bluish ghost shield coming from her preferred method of transport. He always forgot she could do that. “That’s too bad.” She said in a fake, sugary voice. “Guess I’ll just have to resign myself to seeing you fade.”

In an instant, she willed three metallic cubes to manifest around her head and shoulders. As the devices charged up, the Red Huntress gave chase to him once more.

Reacting almost a split-second too late, Danny resumed his own attempts of leaving her behind. Whenever an energy beam got too close for comfort, he either put all his years of flying to good use and miraculously managed to avoid getting hit, or he’d focus his energy on forming ecto-shields of different sizesーdepending on her ecto-rays' own intensity. The untrained observer would point out he could just turn intangible and the beams would harmlessly pass through him, but that was too simple. And fighting Val was never simple.

Even when she’d first got her gearーand by that he meant her old, non-Technus-upgraded gearーthe Red Huntress’ various weapons were all capable of hitting him even when he went intangible. Therefore, lowering his guard like that around her was like a clear invitation to get his ass whooped.

Getting frustrated, with Val still hot in his ghost-tail, he bellowed, “Would you just quit it?! I still got a mark from the last time we fought!”

Smirking darkly, Valerie forewent her cubic guns for her trusty ecto-grenade. “Then I know where to hit next.” She declared before throwing the dangerous device at him, hitting him square on his left shoulder.

As a burning pain suddenly spread through his left shoulder to the tip of his fingertips, not all was lost, for the resulting explosion had sent him flying across the sky to the asphalt, effectively putting some much needed distance from him and his pursuer.

Hands propped on the street and barely supporting his weight, Danny laboriously lifted his head up. All around him, people were either running away in fright of the impending battle or crowding the street as they pointed at him, whispering amongst themselves.

Lifting himself up to a sitting position, the halfa gently nursed his aching shoulder, wincing in pain whenever his fingertips touched the sensitive skin. Although whatever damage Valerie had managed to inflict upon him would soon be gone thanks to his enhanced healing factor, he knew he didn’t have the luxury to wait that long. Knowing the ghost hunter, she’d be around, looking for him. And the moment she found him, she’d waste no time resuming their confrontation.

The Red Huntress would never stop until the source of all her misery was finally banished to the Ghost Zone, or disposed off permanently.

Grunting in pain, Danny willed the cold of his core to spread throughout his body until it reached his hands. The moment his hand blazed a familiar, chilly blue he began caressing his suffering shoulder, the cold emanating from his fingertips a welcomed painkiller.

“Is there anything more unfair than being pummeled to a pulp when you’re actually holding back from hurting the other person?” He grunted, but his musings were cut short by another ecto-beam barely missing his head, a whiff of smoke coming from the asphalt that’d cushioned the hit.

His heart suddenly in his throat, the halfa gingerly looked up, only to find Valerie a few feet away from him, a smoking, double-cannoned ecto-bazooka resting on her shoulder, which only elicited the whispers around them to grow louder, more frantic. “Gotcha.” She said, her glare colder than his ice powers.

Adrenaline kicking his brain in overdrive, Danny frantically looked around, trying to find a way to escape that didn’t involve hurting Valerie or any of the onlookers. Argh, if only he could just turn intangible! As he futilely tried crawling away, his gloved hands moving against the asphalt floor below him, the sensation sparked an idea. Maybe turning intangible was useless against the Red Huntress’ weapons, but phasing wasn’t.

The only thing he needed was a distraction, and the whirring sound coming from the charging ecto-bazooka gave him an idea. It was reckless, but that seemed to be his thing lately, wasn’t it?

“Say goodbye, Phantom!” Valerie spat just as the weapon perched on her shoulder was done charging up, shooting a powerful blast his way.

Using the hand that was previously healing his wounds, Danny shot his own ecto-ray at the incoming projectile, causing his adversary to gasp in surprise. “Goodbye, Red!”

As the two forces came into contact with each other, under the stunned gazes of everyone present, they exploded into a blinding light that forced everyone, Valerie included, to shield their eyes. Wasting no time, Danny turned intangible, phasing through the floor and into the Amity Park sewer system. Once underground, he let his transformation drop, knowing Val’s Ghost Radar would find him otherwise, before making his way around the sewers in search of the nearest exit, his body leaning against the wall for support.

After what felt like an eternity, Valerie finally got her forearm out of her face. What was the point in having a dark-tinted visor if she could still be blinded? Once she’d regained the totality of her sight, that is to say, she no longer saw dark spots dancing around her vision, she quickly redirected her gaze to where Phantom stood.

Nothing.

Gasping, Valerie looked up to the sky. As her eyes scanned around for a black and white, flying figure, or even anything amiss in case the Ghost Boy had turned invisible, she soon realised the green-eyed spook was truly nowhere to be seen. Despite her growing frustration at losing her target, the Red Huntress quickly typed a command on her suit, hoping her Ghost Radar could still detect him. No such luck.

Growling in frustration with murder in her eyes, she jumped mid-air, summoning her hoverboard to appear right bellow her. Roaring the engines to life, she took off in direction to Elmerton, her home for the last seven years.

As she soared the skies, Valerie kept looking back and forth between her radar and her surroundings, looking for Phantom. “I was so close, damn it! Every time I think I finally have that ectoplasmic punk right where I want him, he up and disappears!” With a furious yell to the sky, she leaned on her board, using her feet to increase its speed.

Her gear had to be the only good thing that came out of her first encounter with that ghostly bastard. Even if she’d lost everything and her dad was constantly working long hours to keep her in collegeーher wonderful, incredible, genius dad, who deserved much more than just being a crammy security night guardー, at least what happened at Axion Labs all those years ago had given her two things: the gear necessary to become Amity Park’s most powerful ghost hunter, and the purpose to eliminate all bodiless apparitions from the face of the Earth.

Starting by Danny Phantom.

Valerie could only scoff at some people’s stupidity. Although most citizens had half the brains necessary to figure out Danny Phantom was a threat, there were still some who revered him as some kind of hero.

Oh, it was true. He saved the town from falling into that Ghost King’s claws, but didn’t anybody remember what happened afterwards? Because she did. Not even a week after ‘saving’ everyone from a fate worse than deathーand causing her some injuries and for her dad to both find out about her ghost-hunting escapades and forbid her from ever touching her equipment again, to add insult to injuryー, he ascended as the next Ghost King.

And people still celebrated him? Were they blind?!

It was clear that Phantom only ever fought the Ghost King, not to protect Amity Park, or whatever nonsense he kept trying to feed the public, but to dethrone him himself! He wanted that psycho’s position for himself, so he could keep terrorising the town with even less opposition than before!

“Hero my ass…” Valerie scoffed in disbelieving disgust.

But, apparently, only Valerie and the Fentons had any common sense on the matter. “Wow. Never thought I’d have anything in common with the Fentons…” she mused aloud. As much as she’d liked Danny when they were fourteen, his family was a whole different thing.

When she finally made out her apartment complex in the distance, the armored girl couldn’t help but carefully glide near their living room window, where she could see her father sleeping soundly on the couch after a long nightーtoo tired to even go to bed.

Carefully resting her gloved hand against the window glass, worriedly looking at the man who’d been her only source of comfort for as long as she could remember, her heart broke. “Don’t worry, Dad. I promise, one day Phantom’ll be mine. And then we’ll finally cash in that reward and leave this shit hole once and for all.”

With renewed determination, she went around her floor until she was right beside her own room. Due to her always leaving her bedroom window open, all she had to do was squeeze herself inside. Now standing in her room, she deactivated her suit, which disappeared in a swirl of electricity. Walking over her mirror, Valerie picked up a quasi-new set of clothes that were lying on her chair. “But first, let’s pay that college tuition. It won’t look good if I’m late on my first day.”

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

Phasing through the walls, Danny stumbled into his sister’s room. He would’ve fallen face-first on the floor hadn’t it been for his hands instinctively stopping the fall.

Her head snapping to the distinctive sound of a ‘thud’, Jazz immediately swirled around on her computer chair. “A little help?” Danny grunted tiredly.

Gasping at the state her little brother was in, the redhead all but threw herself at him in order to inspect any possible wounds, only to recoil in disgust when she caught a sniff of him, pinching her nose. “Ew! What happened to you to smell that horridly?! What did you do, die for real?”

“I phased through the floor and into the sewers.” The black-haired boy dryly corrected, not appreciating his sister’s skewed priorities. “Now, if you would be so kind as to help me out...”

Jazz at least had the decency to blush. Offering a hand to her brother, she helped him stand up before guiding him to her bed. Then she lowered him on top of it and resumed her previous inspection of him. She jumped back in surprise at Danny’s sudden, sharp inhale of breath when she accidentally grazed his left shoulder.

In an instant, she was basically in his face, fussing over him. “Danny? Are you okay? Is there anything wrong with your shoulder?”

“Everything’s fiー”, he stopped short when he registered her worried look. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I saw Valerie today.”

“Oh, no.” The eldest Fenton kid lamented, knowing where the conversation was headed.

“Yeah...I tried losing her, but in the meantime she landed a few mean punches on me...figuratively speaking, of course.”

“So I’m guessing your shoulder cushioned a nasty one?”

He nodded, barely turning his head to look at her. “Ecto-grenade.” He said simply, and Jazz cringed in sympathy. “Yeah. I numbed the pain a little by applying some cold with my powers, but a few real painkillers might do me some good until it’s properly healed.”

“Sure.” With a nod, Jazz got up from the bed and crossed over to the other side of the room, where her closet was located. Opening the door and standing on her tiptoes to reach the higher shelf, she grabbed her hidden first aid kit before setting it down on her desk. “Any other injuries I should know about?” She asked as she rummaged through her supplies, taking a small plastic jar with Ibuprofen from it.

“Just a superficial cut on my arm. It’s almost completely healed now, but putting a band-aid on it just in case wouldn’t hurt.”

Flopping herself down next to her baby brother again, medical supplies in hand, Jazz helped Danny out of his t-shirt. When she saw the burns on his shoulder, though, she couldn’t help but wince. “Are you sure you don’t want me to put some bandages on it, Danny? It looks pretty bad…”

The halfa sighed. He knew his sister would fuss over his health; she always did. “It’ll heal, Jazz. It always does.” Then he caught her expression from the corner of his eye. “...but if it’ll make you feel better, I suppose a few bandages just in case don’t so bad.”

Nodding readily, the aqua-eyed woman went to quickly retrieve some of the aforementioned bandages from her kit. Then she proceeded to wrap them around her brother’s left shoulder and pectorals. When Danny sent her a questioning look, she just shrugged and said, “Just in case.”

With his shoulder taken care of, Danny, almost begrudgingly, stretched his arm out to her, letting her inspect his cut. Even though he was right and it was just a flesh wound, it was still important to clean it. Pouring some disinfectant on a bunch of cotton balls, with the help of tweezers she gently dubbed the cotton against his skin, prompting Danny to wince in displeasure.

She rolled her eyes at his childishness, annoyed. “Oh, come on! You literally just faced a ghost huntress, walked around the sewers for who knows how long, and this is something to complain about? Don’t be such a baby!”

“Hey, you have no right to complain about me complaining! You’re not the one who’s routinely going through some kind of medical procedure.” And he’d never want her to go through one; not even a simple check up.

“Whatever,” she said as she put the band-aid on. She dusted her hands off before smiling proudly at him. “All done. Now, go get some rest before it’s time to go and you have to shower.”

Danny pouted. “Do we still have to go? Jazz, I’m injured…” He tried to bargain with his best sad, puppy-dog look.

Jazz wasn’t buying, though. “Should’ve thought about that before you assured me your wounds would heal soon. Come on, Danny, you know I’ve been dying to try this place out and you promised to take me.”

“Can’t you take Tucker with you while I rest, instead?”

“No, because,” she lifted three fingers up, ready to count her options off, “one, he’s not my brother, and I’d like to go with my brother. Two, if you turn your head to my nightstand ever so slightly, you’ll see it’s only 12:30 PM on a Saturday; we’re leaving at sevenーyou’ll have plenty of time to rest. And three...can you really imagine Tucker stepping foot in that sort of place even if I bribed him with $1000?”

Danny visibly deflated at that. “No…”

“Then it’s settled.” Jazz declared. “Go to your room and rest. I’ll tell Mum and Dad you came while they were working on the lab and that you’re tired from an all-nighter of working on an assignment.”

“You’d think they’d be surprised I’m not getting straight A’s with all the times we’ve used the studying excuse on them…” Danny muttered as he left his sister's room.

Standing against the door, Jazz shrugged. “Mum thinks spending so many nights awake studying is actually counter-productive, so…”

Danny chuckled before standing in front of his room’s door. Before going in, however, he called out to her. “Uh, Jazz?”

“Hm?”

“You’re the best.” He smiled at her.

She smiled back. “Anytime, Baby Brother.”

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

A deafening roar echoed throughout the manor. Her heart pounding, Sam ran as fast as she could along the corridors, barely registering where she was going. She took so many turns around the halls she lost count, all portraits and decorations merging together so it’d look like she was running through the same, never ending hallway. But she didn’t care. All that mattered was getting to the origin of the noise.

When she finally arrived before the gates guarding the bloodcurdling sounds, she skidded to a halt so abruptly she almost gave herself whiplash. Now that she was closer to the source, Sam could also make out the sound of screaming coming from inside the room. And when she noticed just where the roaring and screaming was coming from, her heart all but stopped.

The training room.

The place where the younger members of the clan practiced and perfected their magic. Whatever happened there now had a group of kids trapped!

She had to do something!

But, being the queen and therefore not being able to afford anything happening to her in fear of unleashing a civil war, she’d promised she’d wait for Wilhelmina to arrive, or at the very least, for Paulina and Star to support her.

Anxiously, her eyes kept darting back and forth in all directions, hoping against hope that someone, anyone, would soon come to help. They couldn’t risk their kids’ lives like that. Suddenly, the roars and screams only got louder, accompanied by the sounds of thrashing and the crunching of wood being broken.

Whatever it was that was going on, it was mayhem!

The minutes felt like hours and there was still no sight of her Minister of War or her handmaidens. Fear gripping at her heart, terrified for the sake of the students trapped behind those doors, Sam threw all caution to the wind. Willing her mind to clear so she could establish a proper connection with her anima, the Witch Queen cupped her hands together in front of her chest, taking advantage of the extra dose of adrenaline to fuel her essence. As soon as she felt the familiar pull of power, she opened her now blazing, violet eyes and shouted, “Aries!”

From her open palms a host of purple light began to take form. In the blink of an eye, the spell solidified, shooting forwards to the gates and effectively crushing them by sheer force. As the dust resulting from the impact cleared, allowing Sam to finally see what was going on, all she could do was gasp.

Standing tall and imposing in the middle of the room, surrounded by a group of terrified students who were hiding from it in the furthest corner of the classroom behind a row of desks, a gigantic iguana, the size of that dragon ghost that sometimes haunted the town, roared as it shoved tables out of its wayーtheir now spilled contents cluttered the floor.

When the giant reptile’s eye landed on her, obviously taking notice of the explosion of light, Sam felt her blood run cold. And yet, in spite of the danger, she preferred having the beast targeting her than causing harm to the girls. As the creature threateningly stomped in the direction she was in, the young queen formulated a plan.

If she could just keep the iguana distracted long enough until Wilhelmina came, she could win enough time to allow the kids to escape. But she’d have to tell them her plan as well.

“And I know how.” She mused aloud with a smirk on her face. She was just glad she was currently wearing pants instead of an extravagant dress.

As she waited for the reptile to get closer to her, biding her time, Sam intertwined her fingers save for her indexes and thumbs, which were in contact with each other. Then, just as the iguana’s claw was about to strike, she mimicked the action of a gun shooting with her arms. “Ignis!” She cried out.

From her fingertips she kept shooting energy beams at the monster as she ran in the direction the girls were in. When one of her beams hit the iguana in the eye, causing it to cry out in pain and, most importantly, to be distracted, Sam quickly slid down to behind the remaining desksーwhere the girls were.

“Girls, are you okay?!” She whispered-shouted as soon as she caught sight of them. They were a small group, six girls around the ages of 10-12.

One of them, a brunette with green eyesーViolet, if Sam wasn’t wrongー, spoke up on behalf of her friends. “Your Majesty! Oh, thank Goodness...Yeah, we’re fine. As soon as that thing appeared we ran and hid here.”

The violet-eyed witch sighed in relief. “Thank God. Alright, Violet, right?” The girl nodded, the smile on her face was so wide due to the Queen remembering her name, one would almost forget they were all in danger. “Right. I need you to tell me how this happened. And why are you guys all alone, shouldn’t an adult be with you at all times?”

Lola, a shy girl with black hair and glasses, and a distant relative of Paulina, answered instead. “Uh, well, we-we weren’t alone, your Highness.”

She’d have to tell them some other time that title was for princes and princesses, not queens. But first, saving their lives. “What do you mean, Lola? Who was with you?”

“Wilhelmina.”

“Wilhelmina?!” she repeated, a little too loudly. Wincing at the realisation, she hushed the girls in case the iguana had heard them. Whimpering in fright, the kids got closer to her, and she unconsciously wrapped her arms around them. After a few minutes and no response from the monster, Sam let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Okay. Girls, can you explain to me why Wilhelmina isn’t here? It’s not like her to leave students unsupervised.”

“Class was ending, anyway.” Violet explained. “She said she had something to do and that she trusted us to clean everything up before we left.”

Sam did not like where this was going. “And the giant iguana?”

“We don’t know.” Lola said, then she pointed at one of her friends, a blonde named Tamara. “We were talking about the familiars we’d like to have when we completed our Rite of Passage while we were finishing brewing today’s potion when Tammy said she’d wish to have an iguana. And, boom!”

“Is that true, Tammy?” Sam questioned the girl.

Tammy nodded, tearing up. “Y-yes…I-I said...I-I’d like...a-an iguana and...and then...the p-potion...started b-boiling...and o-out of n-nowhere...that...that monster appeared!” She admitted between cries.

Panicking, both because of the little girl crying and the potential danger of being discovered, Sam scooted closer to her, wiping her tears away with her hands. “Shh, shh! It’s okay, Tammy. It’s not your faultーthese things happen!”

“R-really?”

The queen nodded, smiling reassuringly at her. “Really. This sort of thing happens all the time. You’ll learn what it is soon enough.”

“So I’m not in trouble?”

“No, you’re not.”

Before Sam could so much as blink, the girl threw her arms at her, hugging her. The raven-haired witch stiffened at the contact, not used to dealing with physical affection...or kids. After a minute, though, she relaxed and returned the embrace. Tammy needed comfort at the moment.

“What do we do now, your Majesty?” Violet asked, bringing her queen back to Earth.

“Is that thing going to eat us?” Lola insisted, looking positively spooked.

“No, no. None of that!” Sam assured them, letting go of Tammy. “Because I have a plan.” She motioned with her hands for the girls to get closer to her before continuing. “First of all, don’t worry. Iguanas are herbivores; they don’t eat meat, let alone humans! So listen closely, any minute now Wilhelmina, my ladies-in-waiting, and whoever else they’d called for help will appear through that door. I’ll share my plan with them and while we keep the iguana busy, you’ll run away from here. Understood?”

The group nodded readily. “Good.”

“Your Majesty, where are you?!” A familiar voice called out to her.

Crawling quietly, Sam dedicated one last look at the younger witches. “Remember, don’t move until I tell you to go, got it?”

“Got it.” The six of them said in unison.

With a nod of her own, Sam crawled out of her hiding place before standing up and breaking into a full run to the direction the voice came fromーapparently, it was Susan who’d called out to her, accompanying her mentor. The latter, as well as Star and Paulina, were blocking the reptile’s exit.

“Ignis!” repeating her actions from earlier, she shot another energy beam at the beast, before standing beside her subjects.

“What is that thing!?” Paulina asked, looking completely revolted.

“It’s the result of a spell gone awry.” The Witch Queen answered. “A girl got distracted while brewing a potion and this is the result.”

“What kind of distraction?” Star raised an eyebrow.

“What do you think?” Sam replied as if that was all the answer she needed.

Apparently, it was, because nobody else said a word until Wilhelmina’s hoarse voice broke the silence. “Your Majesty! What are you doing here!? You’re supposed to wait for help to come!”

The Goth couldn’t be bothered to pretend she cared about the protocol right now, especially not after discovering her fellow Council member had left a group of witches in-training completely unsupervised. “Not now, Wilhelmina! The kids are still here; we’ve gotta help them escape!”

“And how are we going to do that?” Star let out, trying to hold down the barrier of fiery, orange energy she’d created to prevent the beast from leaving the training room.

“I have a plan.” Sam turned her attention to the potion-maker in-training. “Susan! Do you have one of your Minisize Me potions on you?”

The Asian teenager reached for her bandolier and grabbed a spherical jar in her hand. “Always, your Majesty!”

“Good! While Star holds the barrier down, Wilhelmina, Paulina, and I will try to restrain our little friend long enough for the girls to escape. As soon as the last girl has left the room, you have to throw the potion at the monster. It’s the only way to take care of it!” She then turned to her lady-in-waiting. “Star, the moment this thing’s all tied up, you let your barrier go so the girls can leave, got it?”

“Yes, my Queen!” Both girls exclaimed in unison, readying themselves.

“Very well. Wilhelmina, Paulina,” she called out to them, “you take care of binding the reptile with me. Wilhelmina, since you’ve got the potions, you take care of its hind legs and tail; Paulina, you tie its left paw down. Ready?” Getting twin nods from her fellow witches, they all charged against the monster.

As Sam and Paulina projected their respective animas in the form of a lasso with a scream of “Conjunctionis ligaveris!”, Wilhelmina used her own essence to propel herself above the beast, landing nimbly behind it. While the young queen and the Latina struggled to keep the reptile in place, their purple and soft pink animas tied tightly around its front paws, the potion-maker rummaged through her trusty bag, looking for her BubbleBomb potion. At the same time as she tried to dodge the animal’s large tail.

Maybe Susan was right and she did need to organise her collection in a pair of twin bandoliers, just like her apprentice.

Just as she was beginning to get frustrated, her finger brushed against a sticky substance. A familiar, sticky substance. Crying out in triumph, she got the jar with the sticky, pink slime from inside of her bag, just in time to be lifted up in the air by the force behind the collision of the iguana’s tail hitting the ground. Using her momentum, Wilhelmina smashed the bottle against the floor, which then exploded in a bubble of pink slime, effectively restraining the giant reptile’s movements.

“Girls, now!” Sam cried out, struggling to keep her focus long enough to keep the iguana down for much longer.

The kids didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as their queen gave the order, they got out from their hiding spot and ran towards the door, where Star was waiting for them. Upon seeing them, she lowered her barrier, exhaling in between pants due to the physical exertion, thus allowing the group of kids to leave the room safe and sound.

Smiling at their retrieving forms, Star cupped a hand around her mouth to call out to the, now, youngest witch in the room. “Susan, it’s all up to you now!”

Determined to not let her queen and mentor down, Susan ran towards the closest wall before leaping in the air feet-first towards it. The moment her feet came into contact with its surface, the teenager propelled herself to rise high above the ginormous beast. As soon as she was within optimal range, she hurled the spherical jar at it, which broke against the iguana’s hard-as-steel scales. In an instant, a cloud of turquoise, twinkling smoke enveloped the beast.

Coughing and clearing the air around her with a wave of her hand, Sam dared look up to the direction the large creature once stood at. To her immense relief, she saw nothing. So willing her magic to deactivate, she walked over to where the, now, normal-sized iguana was.

Smiling, she picked the lizard up. “You gave us quite the scare, right, little guy?”

“What do you intend to do with it, your Majesty?” Susan asked as soon as she nimbly landed on her feet the same way a professional gymnast would.

“Why don’t you keep it? I believe you’ve mentioned Duke Scalynton needed a friend a few times now.” She suggested as she handed the iguana to the potion-maker in-training.

Looking down at the iguana in her hands, she turned to her mentor. “Would that be alright, Ms. Redring?”

“Perfectly so, Susan. Don’t worry.” Wilhelmina assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You did well today.”

Susan smiled brightly at that. Sam, on the contrary, could only frown at her. “Wilhelmina, the kids told me you were supposed to be looking after them, but you left them to clean everything by themselves before classes were officially over.”

The Minister of War remained impassive. “My apologies, your Majesty. I had other matters to attend to that required my immediate attention, and since today’s potion was rather simple, I supposed they’d be fine on their own for a few minutes.”

“So because you had better things to do you completely ignored one of our most important rules and risked the lives of six little girls in the process?” Sam seethed, arms crossed, her eyes blazing a dangerous, dark violet for a second.

Wilhelmina narrowed her own eyes on her. “Careful, your Majesty. I don’t believe you’re in any position to say anything. Seeing as how often you completely disregard protocol; or have you already forgotten that you should have waited for back up before facing off against the threat yourself, hm?”

Sam balled her hands into fists at her sides, knowing, and hating, that she had her there. Turning around to leave the room, she spat. “Just, don’t let it happen again.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, my Queen.” The brunette let out, almost sinisterly.

Susan was petting her new pet when she noticed a shadow casted over her. Looking up, she almost gasped. “You did well today, girl. Just, do me a favour and keep that thing away from me.” Paulina told her with a smile, keeping a respectable distance between herself and the iguana in the teenager’s arms.

Susan’s mind, other times sharp and focused, was suddenly completely blank. Mouth hanging open and eyes blinking at random intervals, she was sure she was gaping at the beautiful woman before her. “Uh...I...I mean…,” she stammered, “y-you look good, too! I-I mean! You did good, too. Obviously. Ah! Not like you don’t look good, too! You always look good! Just...you know, yeah…” She finished lamely.

Oh, why couldn’t the iguana have eaten her before she spouted all that nonsense?!

“Okay…” The Latina drawled. “Well, I gotta go. See ya.”

“Yeah, see ya…” The teenage girl sighed dreamily, before realising what she was doing and facepalming herself.

Now that they were outside of the training room and accompanying Sam to her quarters, for they had to help her get ready, Paulina eyed her best friend’s knowing grin in distaste. “What?” She snapped.

“Somebody’s got a crush on you!” The blonde teased in a sing-song voice, the shit-eating grin never leaving her face.

But the Latina just huffed. “Please! And who doesn’t? I’ve had my fair share of admirers since we were in ninth grade, Star. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

“That may be true,” Star conceded, “but I think this is the first time a younger girl’s crushing on you and you’re actually nice to her. The Pauli from back in Senior year would’ve crushed her dreams in a heartbeat.” She commented offhandedly, ignoring the look of pure horror flashing through their Queen’s face.

The blue-eyed beauty just rolled her eyes. Since she wasn’t used to being on the receiving end, she often forgot how ruthless her best friend could be when she was met with some quality gossip. “I’m not eighteen anymore, Star! And Susan’s a good kid, of course I’m not going to be a bitch to her.”

“So you like her back?” The blonde asked, now feeling apprehensive.

“Are you crazy?!” Paulina snapped at her, turning her face in her direction so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “First of all, she’s seventeen! I might like to party, but I’d never date a minor.” She sniffed in displeasure. Seriously, what was this girl thinking?!

Her fellow handmaiden sighed in relief. “Thank Goodness, I was actually worried for a second. Just...try letting her down gently, okay?”

“Who do you take me for? Besides, even if she were our age, which, again, she’s not, I just don’t swing that way.”

Star let out a hollow laugh. “Don’t try selling me the ‘I don’t swing that way excuse’, I’ve seen you throw your principles out of the window for the sake of screwing people over. And about letting her down gently, admit it Pauli, you can be a bit of a bitch.”

Sam, not daring to say a word, could only furrow her brow at what her subjects were saying. “What the Hell?”

Ignoring their queen’s silent judgement, Paulina gasped in surprise. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Rather than backing off given her friend’s reaction, Star only snorted. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you don’t remember that one time in ninth grade that you agreed to go to homecoming with a complete loser just so Dash could play a joke on him.” Then, she turned pensive. “Hm, now that I think about it, we never did pull the prank on him...I wonder why.” She muttered to herself.

Paulina’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape at the reminder. “Oooooh, that’s right! Yes, I did totally do that. Such a shame the guy was a total loser; he at least had decent taste in jewelry.”

The two kept chattering away until they noticed their queen’s appalled expression, her jaw hanging low. Giggling sheepishly, Paulina tried to save some face, Star nodding with a forced smile beside her. “That was a long time ago. We’ve grown up, we promise.”

Blinking slowly at them, Sam forced her mouth shut. Doing a dusting-her-hands-off motion, she symbolically separated herself from anything having to do with their high school lives. “Something tells me we wouldn’t have got along growing up.”

“Then isn’t it great we only met outside of high school?” Star offered.

“I think I’d much rather you just talk to me either about things going on inside the manor, or whatever crazy shit you’re up to at college.” The violet-eyed witch insisted as she turned her doorknob to let them in. For that day’s appointment she wanted to spice things up a little, but she still wanted a simple look that matched with her usual self, hence why she needed the girls’ help.

“Oh. My. God!” Paulina exclaimed, raising her palms up as she entered the room. “You will not believe the drama that’s stirring at APU right now!”

Star, who was already seated on one of Sam’s chairs, made a sound of appreciation. “Ooooh! Do tell.”

As Sam went over to her closet and began to randomly pick up different clothes to ask the girl’s opinion onーt-shirts, jeans, skirts, dresses even…ーPaulina went on with her retelling, she and Star sporadically putting a stop on their conversation to give their queen some feedback. “Remember Tiffany? That two-faced, bitchy classmate of mine who’s been totally jealous of me since, like, forever?”

“Tiffany is a rather stereotypically bitchy name.” Sam commented, her focus on two different t-shirts. “As in, high school queen bee, cheerleader captain kind of bitchy.”

“I was a high school queen bee, cheerleader captain, Sam.” Paulina deadpanned.

“Oh!” Sam faulted, biting her lip in embarrassment as she wondered how she’d fix that one. “Well, your name is not stereotypically bitchy...Tiffany is. I mean, how many high school chick flick villains are dumb blondes called Brittany, or Tiffany, or Cassidy…?”

“She does have a point.” Star conceded, propping her elbow against the chair’s back.

With her index and thumb cupping her chin, the Latina ‘hmmed’ in acknowledgement. “Fair enough. Anyway, Sandra told me that Luka told her that Eliza told him that Tiffany’s out to get me ‘cause she’s so jealous it’s ripping her apart.”

As her ladies-in-waiting turned down her latest outfit, Sam arched an eyebrow, not following the conversation. “But didn’t you just say she’s always been jealous of you? What’s new about that?”

“What’s new is that now she’s jealous of me because Brad Carmichael, her ex-boyfriend with whom she broke up because he was dating a girl from Elmerton University behind her backーnot like she’s been a model girlfriend herself, if you know what I meanー, is apparently into me. And she can’t stand it.”

“But are you into Brad?” Star questioned, while Sam was busier wondering how she even managed to keep track of what Paulina was talking about in the first place. She’d already forgotten the guy’s name was Brad, for fuck’s sake! Her best guess was that keeping up with the latest gossip was some sort of ‘popular girl’ superpower.

Paulina let herself flop down on Sam’s bed with a noncommittal sound coming from her throat. “I mean, Brad’s cute, but I’m sort of seeing Matthew at the moment you know?”

“Sort of seeing?” Sam echoed.

“Yeah, he wants us to go steady but, like, I don’t know if I want to tie myself down to anyone right now, you know? I just don’t think I’m ready to be ‘Matthew’s girlfriend.’ But I know that if I tell him that, he’ll think I want to stop going out altogether, when I just don’t want to rush to label what we have. That’s all.”

“Why do you even have to become ‘Matthew’s girlfriend’? Why can’t he be ‘Paulina’s boyfriend’?” For a moment there, Sam worried the feminist inside her had ruined the conversation, if their silence was any indication, until Paulina, almost automatically, moved to a sitting position, looking like she’d just had a spiritual awakening.

“OMG, you’re so right! “ She exclaimed. “If Matthew can’t accept being labeled my boyfriend, then he’s not worthy of my time. Period. Thanks for the advice, Sam.”

“Uh, you’re welcome?” Sam said, feeling unsure. “Now, could you guys please help me get ready? ‘Cause I still don’t know what to wear…”

Both ladies-in-waiting exchanged a glance, before shrugging. Star was the one who voiced their opinion. “The clothes you have in your hands right now are fine. Just combine them with your usual look and you’ve got your casual, yet original, outfit.”

Looking down at the items in hand, Sam had to admit, they really seemed perfect. “Thanks, girls. You two are the best.”

“We know.” They said in unison.

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

The Verde Que te Quiero Verde was the latest rage in vegetarian restaurants. The establishment was owned by a couple of elderly Mexican immigrants who, per their grandson’s suggestion, had given the typical Tex-Mex food a vegan spin.

All websites reviewing the place gave nothing but praise to the meals and service, and about half of the comments recommended asking for their nachos with guacamole and vegan cheese. Its prices were also known for being very reasonable.

‘Lowly’ Mexican food turned vegan and exorbitant-prices free, the kind of place Pamela Manson would rather die than step foot in.

Which was why Sam was so thankful that Saturday night it was just her dad and her, for her mother was busy background checking anyone who wanted to rent the manor for the upcoming Halloween.

Her dad and her were already seated and looking over the menus, but she couldn’t help being distracted by her surroundings. Despite the more modern take, the Verde Que te Quiero Verde resembled the typical Mexican hacienda, with its white-chalk walls, the red tile roofs, its arches… The restaurant was even a two-story building whose second floor, which held even more tables, had balconies offering a nice view of the fountain in the middle of the room and tables surrounding it below.

It was positively lovely.

And yet...Sam couldn’t quite enjoy it as much as she’d like.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was definitely off with Wilhelmina. Leaving a group of inexperienced, little girls at their mercy while they performed magic? What was she thinking?! She had no idea how lucky she was, had anything happened to any of the girls and she would’ve been put to trial, leading to losing her position as Council member, at best, or to being expelled from the coven altogether, at worst.

Subconsciously, Sam gripped her menu a little tighter. Wilhelmina was already around when she was a kid and Grandma Ida was still queen. Back then, she remembered, she gave off this strict and stern vibe, even more so than Margaret with her by-the-book nature. But ever since she ascended to the throne, her strictiness had turned into outright arrogance.

Back when she was fourteen and had just volunteered herself as the next queen, Wilhelmina seemed the less willing to give in. She was the quickest to point out her age and inexperience, and Margaret and the, then, newly appointed Delilah miraculously managed to get their fellow member to give her a chance. If just barely.

Even know, after seven years of devout sacrifice in the name of the Amity Park Clan, that frustrating pain in the butt still hadn’t let go of her reservations towards her; often making snide comments that casted doubts on her leadershipーlike the one from earlier…ー, or looking over her shoulder with an air of superiority.

All that, Sam could, begrudgingly, put up with. But putting innocent kids in harm’s way and then having the gall to act all smug on her?! What if Phantom had been right? What if there really were witches up to no good right under her nose? What if…?

“Sammy?” Her dad’s voice cut through her thoughts like a knife cut through butter.

“Huh?” She responded, oh, so eloquently.

“Are you okay? I’ve been calling you for a while now and you haven’t answered until now. Also, it looks like you’ve tried to strangle your menu over some sort of terrible crime…” He pointed at the crumbled piece of paper in her hands to demonstrate his point.

Looking down and noticing the mess she’d made of the poor aforementioned piece of paper, she set it down gently with a sheepish smile on her face, “I’m fine, Dad. Just...thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff.” At her dad’s questioning, raised eyebrow she elaborated. “Frustrating stuff.”

“Kiddo, please, enter a literary contest; you’re so eloquent and articulate.” Jeremy deadpanned, setting his own menu down and propping his chin on his intertwined hands.

Sam rolled her eyes, letting out a hollow laugh. “Hilarious, Dad. Aren’t you supposed to be the preppy and optimistic one of the two?”

“I am.” He agreed. “But I’m also a Manson and your Grandma’s son. So you could say snarking runs in the family.”

Parents looking as smug and self-satisfied as her dad did at that moment should be illegal. Crossing her arms with a scowl, Sam slouched on her seat. “Whatever.”

Jeremy just shook his head fondly at his daughter. “You’re lucky your mother isn’t here right now, young lady. Otherwise, she would scold you on your posture.”

The mere mention of her mother made her straighten up, reflexively.

“But now seriously, kiddo. What’s the matter? You know you can talk to your old man about anything.” He offered her an encouraging smile.

Unfortunately, his readiness to be there for her only made her heart sank. No, I can’t, she wanted to say, but instead opted for, “I’m...having trouble with a...with a classmate.” She lied, hating herself for it. “I was elected as team leader, but she’s never quite been able to accept it. Maybe she wanted the position herself, maybe she just doesn’t think I’m good for the job...I don’t know. All I know is that she makes no effort in hiding her displeasure.

“Which, okay. I can take it, I guess. I mean, one more person who doesn’t like me! Boy is that old news...But she’s made a mistake recently and she didn’t even apologise; she just rubbed my own mistakes in my face. And I...I don’t know what to do, Dad.”

Jeremy stayed quiet for a minute, just observing his daughter with a keen eye. Maybe saying he and Sam were close was a little far-fetched; Pamela and, surprisingly enough, his mother had always insisted on signing her up for a million extracurricular activities growing upーironic, when one took the fact that she’d also been homeschooled for most of her life into consideration. But he’d learned long ago to not question it, after all, their Sammy had turned out okay and very capable in the end.

He had to admit, he didn’t always understand her, either. Like her interest in the occult, her love for loud, unsavory bands with questionable taste in names, or her insistence on being identified as a Goth since she was twelve. As a man used to making his wife happy with diamonds the size of strawberries, giving his daughter spiked collars for her birthday left him feeling a little queasy. But, hey, if it made her happy… As long as she didn’t join a cult he was golden.

But there were still moments when even Sam, his strong-willed, independent, confident baby girl, felt vulnerable against the cruel world she lived in. And it was in those moments when he had to take the lead and be the responsible authority figure in the relationship. Moments like now.

Reaching across the table, he rested his hand atop of hers, directing her attention to him. “Sometimes people will try to make our lives difficult, but we mustn’t let that stop us from doing what we think it’s right. So your friend doesn’t think you’re doing a good job leading the team? Then let her think that! If it’s only one person who feels that way, then she’s probably just trying to mess with you.

“But if the other people in your group feel the same way, then maybe you should take a moment to reevaluate things. Don’t be afraid to ask this girl about her opinion. Who knows? Maybe she does have something valuable to contribute.”

Alright, this was all great advice for actual teamwork, but it didn’t apply to her problem. She was trying to rule a coven, not decorate the gym for the upcoming prom. “What are you trying to say, Dad?”

“I just think you shouldn’t take everything on by yourself, Sammy.” He said as he patted her hand, then he leaned back on his chair at the same time as he picked his forgotten menu up. “Now, do you know what you want to eat, or should we wait a few more minutes?”

Sam couldn’t help sending her dad a small smile, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was about to answer when she caught sight of something over his shoulder that made her breath hitch. “Holy shit!”

Jeremy’s head shot up at that. “Samantha, language!”

Uh, oh. He used her full name. “Uh, sorry about that, Dad.” She apologised sheepishly, before standing up and pointing behind him, much to Jeremy’s horror. What was up with this girl’s manners today!? “It’s just that I know the person who’s just entered the restaurant.”

Turning around much more discreetly than Sam, Jeremy raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “You mean the people talking to the maître d’?”

Completely unaware of the fact that they were the focus of the conversation of two of the restaurant’s patrons, Jazz and Danny stood at the entrance, talking to the maître d’. Well, Jazz was talking to the maître d’, looking almost unhinged, Danny was just praying they wouldn’t be kicked out just because his sister had chosen now, of all times, to act as unreasonable as their dad.

“What do you mean there’s no table available?!” She screeched, causing a few customers to turn around to look at her and her brother to look away in embarrassment. “I made the reservation almost two weeks ago! Fenton, Jazz Fenton. Come on, I highly doubt there’s many more Fentons in Amity Park.”

The man tending to them had to be the most patient person on the planet, Danny figured. Or the most emotionless. “My apologies, Miss. But there really is no reservation under a Jazz Fenton.”

“Maybe you put it under another member of the family?” Danny offered before addressing the headwaiter himself. “How about under Danny Fenton?”

The employee looked through his agenda before shaking his head.

“And Maddie Fenton?” Jazz tried.

Again, the man shook his head no.

“Jack Fenton?” She was starting to grow desperate now.

And, again, no such luck.

Watching as Jazz’s eye started twitching, Danny genuinely feared he’d have to restrain his sister from doing something crazy when the sound of someone clearing their throat caught everyone’s attention. Looking at the direction the sound came from, the Fenton siblings could only gape at the sight of a middle-aged man with perfectly coiffed, blond hair, dark blue eyes, and sharply dressed with a crochet vest, light, khaki pants, and black dress shoes standing before them.

The mysterious man turned to the maître d’. “It’s quite alright, my good sir. They’re with us.”

The emotionless man suddenly developed a personality, for he smiled brightly at the other man. “Oh, I see! Would you like some extra chairs, sir?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course, we’ll bring some extra chairs, utensils, and menus to your table momentarily.” And with that the waiter left them alone.

The blond turned to them, a welcoming smile on his face. “Don’t be shy, you two. Come sit with us.” And, by some sort of spell, they followed after him.

In the meantime, brother and sister shared a questioning glance. They were both obviously curious as to who these ‘us’ were. Clearing his throat, Danny ventured. “Um, excuse me sir, but do we know you?”

The mystery, well-dressed man just laughed cordially. “Oh, no. You certainly don’t. As a matter of fact, I don’t know you, either. But my daughter seems to know you, young man.”

Before Danny could so much as ask what he was even talking about, the man stopped beside a table, motioning with his hand to his companion. The halfa almost fell flat on his butt in astonishment.

Getting up from her chair was Sam. Although she had a different outfit than usual, her style was still mostly casual, as opposed to her companion’s preppy clothes.

She was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a drawing of a purple rose on it (why was it so familiar?); a neon green skirt with a spiderweb pattern; a spiked collar with a purple pendant was around her neck; and she wore fingerless, black fishnet gloves. Other than that she looked the same as always. She still had her trademark combat boots and thigh-length, purple stockings on, and her hair was still long and black on one side, while the other was shaved with purple undertones; a green ponytail in a purple scrunchie sticking up.

“Sam, is that you?” He breathed out.

The girl in question could barely believe her eyes. Right in front of her was Danny. She was almost stunned she could recognise him practically anywhere. But then she rationalised; of course she’d recognise him! He looked practically the same as always! With his messy, jet-black hair falling down his face; a pair of blue jeans, his favourite red sneakers...The only thing different about him was the hoodie he was wearing, really. It was mostly white, except for its red cuffs, zipper, draw strings, and the circle it had plastered on its front.

...well, the only thing that was different was his hoodie and the girl beside him, now that she took a better look.

She was around her height, but she seemed slightly older. She was a redhead sporting a cute pixie cut, with a lovely face and striking, aqua eyes. The girl was wearing a square, teal plaid dress over a white, long-sleeved shirt, and black tights with white boots. Her outfit was perfectly coordinated, except for a brown, leather shoulder bag that seemed oddly out of place.

Sam was sure she had never seen her before, but she was just so familiar…

Noticing she was up and Danny was still waiting for her answer, she hurriedly went over to him to shake his and his companion’s hands. “Yes! Yes, it’s me, Danny. And...I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but you are…?”

“Oh, I’m Jazz!” The mysterious girl perked up. “I’m Danny’s sister.”

“Oh, she’s just his sister,” Sam thought to herself, relieved. Wait, relieved? What did she have to be worried about? She thought best to shake those feelings off and stow them for later. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sam, a friend of Danny’s.”

Jazz’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, so you’re Sam! Danny’s told me about you.”

“He has?” Both Mansons asked, but for completely different reasons. And only one of them knew exactly why they asked.

Just as they were introducing themselves, the restaurant’s staff came and set the two extra chairs and items down. His senses tinglingーonly it wasn’t his Ghost Sense, but a sense of danger he couldn’t quite put his finger onー, Danny focused his attention on the other man at the table, who seemed to be glaring daggers at him, for some reason. He swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, sir. But I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

The blond plastered a smile on his face as they finally sat down. To anyone else, it would’ve seemed friendly, but to Danny it looked oddly sinister. “Oh, my bad. I’m Jeremy, Jeremy Manson. I’m Sam’s father.”

While a primal fear clutched Danny’s heart in an iron grip, Jazz audibly gasped. “Wait, Jeremy Manson? As in, the Mansons?”

His sister’s astonished expression, as well as Sam’s mortified one, enabled him to ignore his sudden worries for a minute in favour of his curiosity. “You know them?” He asked his sister.

In turn, Jazz just scoffed, looking away from him in exasperation. Of course not only would Danny have no idea who he hung out with, he also had to embarrass them right in front of the two people in question. “Danny, I think you’re literally the only person in all of Amity Park who doesn’t know them. Ironically…” Seeing as he still didn’t get the hint, she gave up. “The Mansons are the descendants of Izzy Manson, the inventor of the machine that wraps cellophane around chopsticks, and therefore, they oversee the patent.”

“So, you’re saying…”

Ugh, somebody put her out of her misery, goddamnit! “She’s saying we’re rich, Danny. Very. Stinking. Rich.” Sam deadpanned. Well, there went that little piece of information she didn’t like her friends finding out about. Although, a part of her was about to burst out laughing at the way the boy’s eyes all but popped out of their sockets.

Danny, on his part, didn’t know what was more shocking. The fact that Sam came from a wealthy family, or the fact that she, a cynical, brooding, activism-oriented girl, was related to classy, perky, sunny Jeremy Manson. They literally had nothing in common! Not even facial features! Unless Sam was just a carbon copy of her mother, those were some weird genetics.

Danny’s prolonged silence made her grow anxious, so Sam quickly changed topics. “So...what are you doing here? You know this place serves vegetables, right?” She just hoped their usual teasing dynamics would save them from the awkwardness.

Luckily for her, it did. The halfa countered her teasing tone with an easy grin. “Yeah, I know. But Jazz was really looking forward to coming to this place and, since convincing our fudge-loving father to take her would have been impossible, she played the older sister card on me.”

Jazz just huffed in response. “Oh, shut up. Just be thankful this is a vegan, Mexican restaurant; you’re bound to find something you like.”

“Yeah, I can always just stuff my face on nachos with guacamole.” He quipped back.

The hazel-eyed student turned her focus to the older girl, her face lighting up. “Oh! You’re vegan?”

“Oh, no. I’m not. I’m just much more willing to eat healthy food than my brother, who I still don’t understand how he could’ve grown so much given his atrocious diet!” She finished pointedly.

“Hey!” Danny protested. “My diet’s not ‘atrocious’! So what if I’m not actively looking for vegan restaurants? I still eat everything I need.”

“I once saw you eat nothing but oreos and soda for two weeks when you were sixteen.” His sister pointed out, without missing a beat.

That made him wince, not appreciating the reminder. “Okay, so maybe that wasn’t my best moment. But, the soda gave me the liquids and sugar I needed and the oreos gave me carbohydrates and proteinーmaybe, if they’re baked with milk…”

“Oreos are actually vegan.” Sam pointed out.

Although her comment was meant to annul his point, it seemed to validate it, instead, for he sent a smug look at Jazz. “Ha! You heard that? Turns out I’m healthier than you, Daisy Green.”

“Oh, just shut up.” His sister grunted, exasperated.

The father-daughter duo just exchanged glances, not used to this sort of family interactions. After a beat, Jeremy spoke up. “How about we order, huh?”

Picking up his own menu, Danny’s face morphed itself in confusion. “Uh...I have literally no idea what to ask for. Sam, you’re the expert, what do you recommend?”

By his side, Jazz perked up. “That’s right! You’re vegan aren’t you?”

“Ultra-recyclo-vegetarian.” She corrected, although she wasn’t sure why; nobody ever really got the difference.

And, lo and behold, neither did Jazz. “Pardon?”

Sam was about to tell her to let it go, when Danny beat her to it. “Sam doesn’t just avoid eating anything with a face, she also eats everything on her plate.”

When he sent her a wink and a friendly smile, Sam almost puddled. She soon regained her senses, though. Alright, so it was touching that he retained that piece of information when most people tended to forget all about it, but that still wasn’t grounds to make a fool out of herself. Finally, she opted for pushing those feelings aside. “This is my first time here, too. But as the only experienced veggie-eater at the table, I’d suggest that if you’re not feeling up to experimenting with new things, then just stick to what you’d usually order from a regular Taco Bell.”

She lowered her menu for them to see as she pointed at certain meals. “For example, Danny, you could try ordering the Burrito Vegano. Judging by its ingredients, it's exactly the same as your usual burrito except for the lack of meat. So you shouldn’t miss much.

“If any of you feels more adventurous, then you could try the vegan Quesadillas, just keep in mind that rather than being exactly the same as the regular ones but with vegetables, instead of cheese they have humus.”

“What about snacks?” Jeremy asked, as enthralled in her explanation as their impromptu guests.

“Oh, I’m definitely ordering their famous nachos with guacamole and vegan nacho cheese. Everyone recommends it.”

“What’s vegan nacho cheese even made of?” Danny scrunched his face up in disgust. “Is it even edible?”

Sam scoffed. Typical carnivore response. “Not any less than the barely passable-for-human-consumption, acrylic orange paint that is the usual nacho cheese. And to answer your question, it’s made of carrots and peppers.”

“Wow.” Danny breathed, impressed once again by Sam’s ability to monologue without the need for breath. “You really have a strong opinion on nacho cheese.”

“Oh, you don’t even know half of the things she has a strong opinion on.” Jeremy muttered.

Before Sam could so much as protest at her dad’s familiar exasperation at her altruistic ways, a waiter, notepad and pen in hand, appeared behind her. “Have the ladies and gentlemen made their decision yet?”

Looking over the table and receiving nods in confirmation, the Manson patriarch took the lead. “I believe we have.”

“Excellent.” The waiter said. “What do you want to drink?”

“Well, I’d normally ask for a bottle of your best wine, but I’m driving tonight, so I’ll have a Mr. Pepper.”

“Of course, sir. And everyone else?”

“I’m driving too, so I’ll have a Lemon Nestea, please.” Jazz said.

It was Danny’s turn. “I’m not driving. I’ll have a beer.”

“We serve Coronita, is that alright with you, sir?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Finally, he turned to Sam. “And you, Miss?”

“Another beer’s fine.”

The waiter wrote everything down. “Alright, so that’s a Mr. Pepper, a Lemon Nestea, and two beers; is that right?” At the sounds of agreement, he went on. “Alright. Have you decided on your food yet, or do you need more time?”

It was Sam’s turn to perk up. “We’ll have some nachos with guacamole and vegan cheese to share. I’ll have the Tofu Tacos; You make them yourself once they’re served, right?” The waiter nodded. “Then, yes. The tacos.” Then she pointed at her dad. “And my Dad’ll have the fajitas.”

As their waiter wrote everything down, she directed her attention at the siblings. “And you guys…?”

“Hm, I think I’ll have the vegan quesadillas.” Jazz said. “I gotta admit, when you said they have humus I’d already made up my mind! And you, Danny?”

Danny kept frantically scanning his menu. He didn’t know what half of those things were! All he knew was that it was Mexican food with extra vegetables. “Uh...I...I’ll have the Burrito Vegano?” He just hoped Sam was right and it’d be similar to the regular thing.

“An excellent choice.” The waiter commented before taking their menus away. “Your drinks and nachos will be out shortly.”

After the waiter left, they kept on chattering idly about everything and nothing. How Sam and Danny knew each other, why Jeremy had, completely out of the blue, decided to let them have dinner with them, what their parents’ did for a living… That’s when things got a little awkward. Although Mr. Manson was trying his hardest to remain neutralーSam’s constant glares served as a good incentiveーit was plain to see he didn’t think highly of their parents and their job.

Danny and Jazz would be lying if they said they weren’t already used to it, or even understood his concerns.

Just as their drinks were being served, Mr. Manson’s cell phone started ringing. He took a quick glance at the caller and immediately winced, which didn’t go unnoticed by his daughter. “Dad…? Is everything okay?”

“What? Oh! Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, kiddo. I just have to take this real quick.” He explained as he got up from his chair, about to make his way to a less crowded area of the restaurant. “I’ll be right back.”

“Is he okay?” Jazz asked, slightly concerned.

Sam could only shrug in response. “He says so.” Noticing the sudden rise in tension, she chose to change topics instead. “Um, I don’t really have any siblings to know better but, you two are close, right? I know my fair share of families who wouldn’t spend any non-essential time together otherwise.” Like mine, was what she didn’t say.

“You could say that.” Jazz replied, almost enigmatically.

Normally, Danny wouldn’t go into detail as to why he and Jazz were so closeーthree guesses why and the first two didn’t countーbut there was something about Sam that told him she would understand. Granted, he couldn’t tell her everything, let alone in the middle of a relatively crowded restaurant, but he could shed some light over her queries. He guessed he felt the need to be open and share things with her because the other day she opened up to him and Tucker.

“Well,” he started, “if I’m being honest, I’ve always been closer to my older sister than my parents…”

"How so?" Sam couldn't believe she had the nerve to ask him that when her own relationship with her parents was, most of the time, rocky, at best.

Did she really have to put him on the spot like that? “No, Danny,” he scolded himself, “you wanted to be honest with her yourself. Don’t blame it on her.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried to explain as best as he could while revealing as little as possible. “Uh... it's just...my parents are ghosthunters, as you know, so ghosts have always been present in my house, making things incredibly difficult for Jazz and me growing up.” Like eating savage, ecto-wieners for dinner, having every single personal problem compared to some ghost-hunting analogy, or being mortified and ostracised by his peers as a result. “And things...things only got even more complicated when I was a teenager.”

That was the part he couldn’t go in detail about. Mainly because what truly made things more complicated was the fact that all deep conversations, honesty, and family bonds were tattered the moment he became the very half-ghost whose dissection his parents often fantasized about. “As a result, I guess you could say Jazz and I ganged up together. The Fenton siblings against the world when our parents were too busy with their job.” When he felt Jazz’s warm hand on his cold one, he couldn't help but meet her concerned face with a small smile in thanks for everything she’d ever done for him.

A wave of sympathy washed over Sam at Danny and Jazz's predicament. It was easy to forget Amity Park didn't even know ghosts existed until seven years ago, when Phantom and his putrid kind appeared out of the blue, because witches never forgot their existence in the first place. She could understand being overlooked in favour of creatures of dubious existence must've caused them great pain growing up.

Noticing her heartbroken look, Danny immediately tried to lighten up the mood. “Don’t worry, though. We might not be as close to our parents as we were when we were little, but we still all love each other.”

“Yeah,” Jazz assured her, “no need to feel bad for us, Sam. It’s still nice to see a daughter being close to her dad like you two are.” Her words were meant to bring the hazel-eyed Goth comfort, but her brows knitted together in concern at the look on her face.

Albeit Sam was smiling, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Lowering her head, almost hiding her face from view, she shook it, sadly.

After a minute or two of silence Danny was about to ask her if she was alright when she spoke. “Don’t let appearances fool you; my Dad and I aren’t exactly close, either.”

“But...but you two seem to get along so well…” Jazz started, but was cut off by Sam.

“We get along,” she confirmed, “but we’ve never been close. My parents are the complete opposite of me, and it showsーthey’ve never been able to understand me, my Grandma did.”

Danny almost regretted having to ask. “Is your Grandma…?”

The Goth just nodded. “She passed away when I was fourteen. She was the only person to ever understand me and accept me for who I am. You could say I’ve been on my own ever since, although in a psychological/spiritual sense.”

“Is that the reason why you’re Goth?” Jazz couldn’t hold herself back from asking, her psychologist instincts taking the reins of the situation. Shocked at her behaviour, Danny kicked her gently on her shin from under the table.

He ignored her glare in favour of distracting Sam from her question. “What about your mother, aren’t you two close?”

The harsh laugh she let out startled them both. “I might not be close to my Dad, but compared to my relationship with my mother, I’m practically a daddy’s girl.”

A shadow casted over her hazel eyes, other times so full of fire and mischief, and Danny didn’t like it one bit. Reaching over to grab her hand in his, making her gasp in surprise, he sent her a gentle smile. “Thank you for sharing that about yourself with us.”

She returned the smile. “Thank you for sharing that about your parents with me.”

They kept staring into each other’s eyes, not caring about anything around them, until the clatter of the nacho plate being set down on their table broke them out of their thoughts. While Danny chose to ignore her sister’s annoying smirk, Sam thanked the waiter. Then, she turned to the siblings. “Well? What are you waiting for? Dig in!”

They did as they were told, and their faces split in matching grins. Hmming in appreciation, the black-haired half-ghost dipped another tortilla chip into the vegan cheese. “This ain’t half bad!”

Sam just chuckled. “Told you.”

After a, surprisingly, rather pleasant dinner between the two different families, it was time to say goodbye. Since they were the ones driving them home, Jazz and Mr. Manson left first to look for their respective cars, leaving Danny and Sam some extra time to talk.

“Well, that was a pleasant surprise.” Danny commented, putting his hands inside his hoodie’s pocket.

“Yeah, it really was.” Sam smiled when, suddenly, a cold breeze whooshed by, making her shiver.

Noticing her hugging herself from the corner of his eyes, he immediately took action. “Here, let me help. It’s starting to get cold.” He said, even when his cryokinesis made him immune to cold years ago.

“Danny, I’m fineー” she began, but was interrupted by Danny slipping his hoodie on over her shoulders. As he lent her his jacket, their eyes locked. For a moment, time stopped. The Earth stopped moving. Nothing else mattered but each other’s eyes; Danny’s precious baby blue, and Sam’s vibrant hazel. Then, the sound of a not-so-distant honk broke the spell, causing them to quickly avert their eyes, a hint of pink dusting their cheeks.

Sam wasn’t cold anymore.

As Jazz opened the door for Danny, he waved her goodbye, which Sam returned. Now that she was alone with her thoughtsーand Danny’s hoodieーwaiting for her Dad to appear with his own car, she couldn’t stop herself from sniffing the garment. It smelled like wood and freshly rained soil, but there was something else. Something...familiar she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Whatever it was, she liked it.

It smelled like Danny.

#Danny Phantom #DP #dp fanfic #your heart #my fic #danny fenton #sam manson #valerie gray #jazz fenton #jeremy manson #paulina sanchez #dp star #oc #ghost king! danny #ghost king au #witch queen! sam #witch queen au #enemies to friends to lovers

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canarygirl1017 · 5 years ago

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Hands On Me - Chapter 1

Pairing: Reader / Jungkook

Genre: College!au, fluff, mild angst, smut

Length: 4,341k words

Warnings: language, sexual themes

Summary: You’d never had much luck with relationships, and experience had taught you to shy away from physical intimacy. But when you started dating your neighbor, Jungkook, you began to think he was worth the risk. College AU.

A/N: Next chapter coming soon. I originally wrote this a few months ago based on a prompt I got from my writer’s group. It was supposed to be college based romance, couple’s first time together, mildly angsty, and include the dialogue “Do you want to break up?” I sort of vaguely pictured JK when I was writing the male lead, at least visually, so I thought I would post it as a reader fan fic, which I’ve never written before. I usually write Marvel fan fic at AO3 in third person (not second person) so this isn’t as natural for me. Also, this is just for funsies because I don’t do real life shipping with real life people, though I do enjoy reading some of the well written fics I’ve seen in the fandom. If people enjoy this one, I might post more as I have a lot of short story prompts I’ve written for my club and don’t do anything with.

Chapter 1

Snuggled up on the sofa watching TV together was how you spent most evenings with your boyfriend, Jungkook. You did a quick clean that morning in anticipation of him coming over since he seemed to prefer being in your space, though it hardly mattered; home was just a few doors down regardless of which apartment you chose to spend time together in.

You shifted your attention from the book you were reading to Jungkook’s profile, fingers itching to trace the sharp jawline that attracted so many women to the gym where he worked as a part-time trainer while he finished university. He also needed a haircut, but he’d shrugged off the suggestion when you mentioned it earlier that week. The slightly longer, inky black locks suited him though.

He was focused on the basketball game that had gone into overtime, his thumb absentmindedly stroking against your hip as you leaned against him. Being close to him was a double-edged sword lately and a reminder that he hadn’t really touched you in a while. Not since that night a few weeks ago.

When you first started dating three months ago, he’d been very physical with you. Dates that ended with kisses at the door had quickly turned into dates that ended with making out on the sofa at his apartment or yours. But during one very heated session on his sofa you got nervous, suddenly worried that things were moving too fast, and you pulled back. To his credit, Jungkook backed off immediately, assuring you that he was fine with following a slower pace.

Your high school boyfriend had pushed for sex and against your better judgment, you’d slept with him after the senior winter formal, only to be devastated when he moved on less than a month later. Similarly, your last boyfriend had been very pushy about sex, and your reluctance was a bone of contention between you until he broke it off.

At twenty-two, Jungkook was a year older, and you knew that he was much more experienced. You’d been neighbors for almost a year now, and you’d seen several of the girls he dated coming and going during that time. You’d never spoken to one another outside the occasional hello in passing until the night you came back from work to find your ex-boyfriend, Mike, drunk and pounding on your door.

Since you didn’t want to let him into your apartment, you stood outside to talk to him. Apparently offended that you wouldn’t let him in, he’d begun berating you loudly enough to have a few neighbors popping their heads out to see what was going on. And in the middle of that embarrassing situation, Jungkook and his friend walked up.

“Hey y/n,” Jungkook said. “Sorry we’re late.”

He slipped an arm around your waist, startling you, though you couldn’t deny you were grateful for the interruption.

His friend chimed in, holding up a takeout bag. “We brought dinner.” You’d seen him around campus and remembered that his name was Jimin.

Mike had eyed Jungkook, as if sizing up a potential fight. But while he had an inch or two on Jungkook in height, Jungkook was all lean muscle and without question the stronger of the two. So, he had backed off, but not before firing off a parting shot. “Good luck with the virgin. Cold fish bitch.”

Your cheeks were burning as he walked away.

Jimin broke the silence. “What an asshole. Does he do this a lot?”

You shook your head. “This is the first time I’ve seen him since we broke up.” You could only assume the alcohol had made him think that you were a potential booty call.

Jungkook frowned as he stepped out of your personal space. “Sorry if I overstepped. I know it’s not my business, but I didn’t like the way he was crowding you at the door and yelling at you.”

“No, I appreciate you getting rid of him,” you answered. “Thank you.”

Jimin held up the takeout bag again. “We really do have dinner. Do you want to join us? Maybe it’s better if you’re not here alone in case he decides to come back.”

You hesitated, but then your stomach growled, a reminder that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast because of a hectic day of classes followed by work at the campus library.

Jungkook smiled. “We’ll take that as a yes.”

You became friends with Jungkook after that night. It was amazing how quickly you’d felt comfortable around him. He was kind and friendly, and he frequently helped the elderly residents of your building. Then one night after he’d shown up at the campus library and walked you the few blocks home, he kissed you. It marked the beginning of your new relationship, and you’d been inseparable ever since.

Unlike the few other guys you had dated, Jungkook had never directly brought up the topic of sex, nor had he pushed for it. You’d had a brief conversation one night about your respective exes. You knew he’d had one serious relationship that ended when he moved away for college and the long-distance relationship proved to be too much of a strain. He’d only dated casually since then, though you’d seen some of his overnight guests leaving his apartment the morning after.

Jungkook knew you’d had a boyfriend in high school, but you hadn’t gone into the details of the breakup. Though it was several years in the past, that rejection still stung, and you didn’t like to talk about it. He’d never asked about Mike other than to ensure you weren’t being harassed. You supposed the drunken scene he and Jimin had witnessed was explanation enough.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you failed to notice the game had ended until Jungkook spoke. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

You looked up to see him watching you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Doing what?”

“Completely zoning out,” he replied with a half-smile. “Is something bothering you?” His chocolate brown eyes studied you intently.

“No,” you said quickly. Maybe too quickly because you could tell he didn’t quite believe you. His tongue pushed against his cheek, something he did when he was thinking about how to deal with a problem.

After a moment, he nodded. “Okay.” He stood up and stretched. “I should get going. I have an early client tomorrow.”

Saturdays were always busy at his gym, and he sometimes worked longer hours on the weekends. “Do you have clients tomorrow night?”

“One,” he confirmed as he pulled on his leather jacket. “Jen’s birthday party is tomorrow, right?”

You nodded as you walked to the door with him. “We’ll be at Carmen’s.” Jen had been planning her birthday for months and wanted a venue with good food, music and dancing. The trendy bar had only been open for about a year, but it was popular for the menu, which included themed cocktails, and the Latin music. You’d been looking at salsa dancing tutorials on YouTube because you were sure that your best friend would insist on hitting the dance floor.

“Okay. Jimin and I will swing by around ten.”

Jimin and Jen were involved in a casual flirtation that they both enjoyed, though you weren’t so sure it was really going anywhere. Jimin was a handsome transfer student studying modern dance, which took up a lot of his time, much to the disappointment of the single girls on campus. And for the two years you’d been friends, you had never known Jen to date anyone seriously. Still, Jen had heavily hinted that she wanted Jimin to come to her birthday party, and so you had told Jungkook to bring him.

“Okay.” You tilted your head back as he leaned down to kiss you goodbye.

You loved kissing him – the way his hands settled on your hips, and the way the first gentle brush of his lips against yours always gave way to slow, deep kisses. Your hands drifted down his chest to his waist, clutching the material of his t-shirt to ground yourself.

It would be so easy to get swept away. By the heat that flared between you. By your feelings. You knew without a doubt that you had fallen hard for him.

Jungkook pulled back, kissing the top of your head before releasing you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You closed the door behind him and locked up, leaning your head against it for a moment. You were beginning to regret letting him leave every night even if you weren’t sure if you were ready for more. You wanted more, but you were afraid of it too. And you had no idea what to do about it.

_________________________________________

You nibbled your bottom lip as you sat on Jen’s bed, watching your friend dig through her closet. “Do you think I should…” you paused, wondering how to broach this topic. While Jen had few conversational barriers, you were more hesitant to talk about sex.

“Should what?” Jen asked, her tone distracted as she pulled out another dress and tossed it over the chair at her desk. She tapped her well-manicured nails against the wall as she studied the contents of her closet before pulling out another dress and dropping it on the chair.

You glanced at the pile of dresses accumulating on the chair. “I thought you were going to wear that new dress you bought last week?”

“This isn’t for me,” Jen stated. “This is for you.”

You failed to contain a snort of laughter. “You’re like six inches taller than me. And I have a dress.” It wasn’t new, and Jen had complained that the dark color washed you out the last time you wore it. But unlike Jen, whose wealthy parents supplied her with credit cards and charge accounts around the city, you couldn’t afford to waste money on clothes. Your parents helped when they could, but you also had three younger siblings still at home and college was only possible because of your scholarships. Living in the city was also expensive; if not for Jungkook contributing to your groceries since you often ate together, you’d probably be eating ramen five nights a week.

“And I’m a fashion design student, so I have time to alter one of these. If I have to see you in that funeral dress again, I’m going to burn it. Worse, do you really want Jungkook to see you in it?” she shuddered as she tossed another dress on the chair. “Okay, I think these are the best options. Now, what were you asking? Do I think you should what?”

You hadn’t considered that Jungkook might also hate that dress. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see what Jen had in mind. Arguing with her was next to impossible anyway.

You helped Jen hang the dresses on a clothes rack in the corner so you could see them better. “Do you think I should sleep with Jungkook?”

Jen raised a brow as she glanced over at you. “Hell yes. Have you talked about it?”

You shook your head. “No. I kind of… I don’t know. Freaked out a little bit a few weeks ago when we were kissing and stuff. It seemed like we were headed there, and I wasn’t sure I was ready, and I know I totally pulled a one eighty on him. And now he barely touches me.”

“Huh.” Jen considered that for a minute. “So things are weird now? Are you afraid he’s going to break up with you or something?”

You hadn’t really thought about that. “I wasn’t, but now that you said it, maybe.” You had mostly been worried that if you broke up after sleeping together, he’d be that much harder to get over because you knew that you’d be more attached to him then than you already were. But maybe that worry – that he would leave because you were holding back – had been there all along.

“I’m not saying he would do that,” Jen hurried to add. “I’ve seen how he acts around you, and how he looks at you. I really think he’s one of the good ones. But with your past experiences, I can see why you’d be worried. Has he ever been pushy about it?”

“No, never. When I told him that I thought we were moving too fast, he said he’d follow my pace. Only now, we’ve just kind of stalled out.”

“I guess he’s waiting for you to do something then. Like give him a signal that you want more.”

That could be it too. “I don’t really know how,” you admitted. “I have one night’s experience to draw from, and that was years ago.”

“That wasn’t an experience, y/n, that was a sexual travesty.”

You couldn’t argue with that. “He’s experienced though. I’m sure he knows how to make it good for me, but I don’t know how to do that for him. What if I’m bad in bed?”

“First of all, you have no idea how you are in bed because you’re practically still a virgin. Second, men are easier to please when it comes to sex anyway. Jungkook likes you. It’s easy to tell that he has real feelings for you, so I think there’s zero chance that he wouldn’t like sex with you. You really need to talk to him about it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up just thinking about trying to talk to him about this. “I know. I’m just embarrassed.”

Jen rolled her eyes. “If you can’t talk about it, you probably shouldn’t be doing it. Or I guess you could take the easier route and wear something that does the seduction for you. Like this.” She held up a deep red halter neck dress. The low neckline and back ensured maximum skin exposure. Jen was tall and had long, dark hair so on her, it probably looked fabulous.

Eyeing the dress with skepticism, you said, “That dress is your style, not mine. I’ve never worn anything like that before.” Your style could best be described as casual. On date night, you managed flirty casual, and Jungkook didn’t seem to have any complaints. This dress was on a whole other level, though.

“We can make it your style. I’ll make sure it’s not too revealing if that’s what you’re worried about.” When you still hesitated, Jen added, “Come on, Jungkook will forget how to talk when he sees you in this. I guarantee that you won’t have any trouble getting him into bed if that’s what you decide you want.”

The idea of surprising Jungkook with something like this was appealing. Maybe shaking up your image for one night would give you the confidence to talk to him about your relationship.

_____________________________________

Jungkook stifled a yawn as he entered Carmen’s. It had been an exceptionally long day, and he wished this was a regular Saturday night like the ones he usually spent with his girlfriend, y/n. He liked being in your apartment because your sofa was comfortable, you had an old record player and some killer albums that you’d collected since middle school, and your essential oil candles made everything smell nice.

Jimin had been teasing him for a couple of months now, calling him domesticated. He supposed he was because before meeting you, he rarely spent a Saturday night in. If someone had told him then that he’d soon trade beers at his favorite bar for candles and snuggling on the sofa, he would have laughed.

And since Jimin rarely got him out on a weekend anymore, and Jen had equal complaints about you, he doubted either of you would get away with ducking out early.

“Are they upstairs or downstairs?” Jimin asked.

“Downstairs, I think,” he replied.

He let Jimin lead the way. It was crowded downstairs, and he first searched the booths and bar area, expecting to find you chatting with friends. You always said dancing in public made you feel awkward unless you were drunk, and since your alcohol tolerance was low, you usually didn’t drink much.

“I see Jen on the dance floor,” Jimin said. “Did you find her?”

“No.” Jungkook scanned the dance floor, briefly pausing on a petite girl wearing a red dress before looking back at the booths. “Maybe she’s in the bathroom.” He pulled out his phone to call you.

“Wait, is that y/n?” Jimin suddenly asked.

Jungkook glanced up from his phone. “Where?”

“That girl in the red dress.”

He looked back at the dance floor for the girl in red, ready to deny it. Except she’d turned around now, and Jimin was right. Holy shit.

“Damn. I know I’ve been giving you a hard time lately, calling you domesticated. I’ll shut up now because if I knew I was taking her home later, I’d be domesticated too.”

Jungkook glared at Jimin. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

Jimin’s expression was sheepish. “Sorry, man. I’m going to hell for impure thoughts, but so are half the guys hanging around her. You might want to worry more about them.”

Jungkook was already on the move as he’d noticed the same thing. Shouldering past two guys trying to dance up behind you, he gave them a look that ensured they backed off. Your back was facing him, and he swallowed hard as his eyes drifted down from your shoulders. The dress draped in the small of your back, leaving a bare expanse of skin, and his fingers literally itched to touch you.

He gave in to the urge, sliding his hand along your waist lightly to get your attention. You turned your head, brows furrowed as you flinched away from the unexpected touch. But when you saw it was him, you smiled and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“You’re here,” you said, tilting your head back to look at him. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

He smiled at your uncharacteristically dramatic tone. “Sorry. I forgot my bag, so I had to run home to change. Are you having fun?” You were pressed close against him on the crowded dance floor, and he was enjoying the feeling of your small body against his. He let his hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing light circles. You shivered in response. “Are you cold?”

“No. That just feels good,” you said with a sigh. You toyed with the top button of his long-sleeved white Henley.

He wasn’t used to you being that direct about what you liked. And when your hands suddenly wandered under his leather jacket and ran up his back, he suppressed a shiver of his own. “I think you’re drunk, baby.” He pulled you closer, trying to ignore the teasing glimpse of cleavage revealed by your dress. Your hair drifted around your pale shoulders in loose waves, and all he could think about was running his fingers through it as he kissed you.

“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “The cocktails are really good here.”

God, you were adorable. He’d never met another girl that he wanted to simultaneously fuck senseless but also protect and cuddle, though the former urge was winning out tonight. He’d never imagined you wearing a dress like this, and he knew it would be fueling his fantasies for quite some time. It had to be Jen’s influence, though he certainly wasn’t complaining.

As if reading his thoughts, Jen suddenly sidled past him on her way to the bar. “You’re welcome.”

For the next three hours, you divided your time between the dance floor and the bar, and Jungkook was content to follow behind you. You danced slowly together regardless of the beat, and he finally allowed his hands to stroke your bare back. You kept tilting your head back, inviting his kisses, and he was happy to indulge you. He was so turned on he could hardly think straight, but he knew he needed to keep a tight rein on the situation. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of that night a few weeks before when you had all but run from his apartment.

When you got a bit unsteady on your feet, Jungkook ordered water and fries at the bar before leading you to the booth where Jimin, Jen and a couple of other friends were talking. He could tell you were starting to fade as you finished the water and food. When you yawned and leaned against him, he kissed the top of your head. “I think it’s time we got you home.”

You hummed in agreement. Jen tossed him your jacket from the corner of the booth, and he helped you put it on. The cab ride back home was long enough for you to fall asleep in his arms. He savored every minute, stroking your hair gently, lulled by the sound of your breathing and glad that you had shaken off the pensive mood you’d been in the night before.

Jungkook was observant enough to realize that something was worrying you lately. While it bothered him that you wouldn’t tell him what you were thinking about, he worried that the relationship was still too fragile for him to push when it was obvious that you didn’t want to talk about it. Still, it was becoming increasingly difficult to let it go because he was concerned that it had something to do with him.

He wondered if it was about sex. Ever since that night he’d intervened when your ex showed up drunk, he’d wondered about your relationship with him. Something in the past had made you nervous about physical intimacy, which he’d realized after you ran out of his apartment that night, and he’d been very careful not to do anything that might make you run again. More and more he wished he’d punched that asshole, feeling certain he was somehow to blame. He’d deserved that and more for the name calling alone.

When you arrived home, Jungkook paid the driver and helped you from the car. Upstairs, he unlocked your apartment, smiling when you kicked your heels off and the effort sent you stumbling sideways. He steadied you before removing your jacket and draping it on the arm of the sofa. You walked to your bedroom and he grabbed some water from the kitchen before following you.

“You don’t feel sick, do you?” he asked, placing the water on your nightstand.

You shook your head as you sat on the edge of the bed and reached out a hand to him. “No.”

He took your hand and sat next to you. “You should change before you go to sleep, so you’ll be more comfortable.”

“You like the dress, right?” You nibbled your bottom lip as you peeked up at him through your lashes.

Understatement. “You look beautiful,” Jungkook said quietly, pushing your hair off your shoulder. His breath caught when you turned her cheek toward his palm and rubbed against him like a sleepy kitten.

“Then kiss me,” you whispered.

He hesitated, but you were already reaching for him. The kiss was like throwing a match on kindling. Then you scooted back to lie down and pulled him with you.

This was dangerous and he knew it, but he ignored the niggling little warning in his head because he’d been thinking about kissing you like this all night. He pressed against your soft curves but kept most of his weight off you as slow kisses turned more passionate. And when your hands grew bolder, running across his chest and back and tugging him closer, he gave in to the temptation, pulling you more fully beneath him.

When you parted your thighs, allowing his hips to settle between them, he dropped his head to your shoulder with a groan. Pressing kisses against your neck, he willed himself to calm down. “Baby, we should stop.”

You responded by pushing your hips up against him, and he bit back a curse. He was fully hard now and stopping was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew it was the right thing. Jungkook braced his weight on his forearms and took a breath as he stared down at you.

“But I want you to stay,” you said, threading your fingers in his hair. Your eyes seemed much darker in the dim light of the bedroom. Your small hands drifted down to his shoulders, kneading, and then moved further down to toy with the hem of his shirt.

Jungkook closed his eyes and took another deep breath, the light fragrance of your perfume doing nothing to help him regain control. As much as he wanted you – had wanted you from the first night he kissed you - he didn’t want your first time together to be after a night of drinking. If there was even the slightest chance that you might regret it later, it wasn’t worth it.

He gave in one last time, kissing the spot beneath your ear that always made you shiver. He darted his tongue out to taste you and then captured your lips for one more long, slow kiss. “Not tonight.”

You didn’t argue anymore, allowing him to pull away. You were quiet as you got up and took some clothes from the dresser before going to the bathroom to change. When you returned, your face was clean, and you wore the usual pajama pants and t-shirt you preferred to sleep in. You didn’t say anything as you slipped past him to crawl back into bed and pull the covers up.

“You’re sure you feel okay?” he asked.

You nodded, your eyes already closed. “I’m just tired.”

He brushed his hand over your hair and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’ll lock up on my way out. I’ll give you the key back tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment. Something seemed off somehow. Awkward, maybe. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He turned off the light and let himself out, making sure to lock the door behind him.

#college au #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x you

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louiseleblancdiggory · 4 years ago

Note

hello! I saw that someone was asking you rowaelin as ts songs and I wonder if you could do cruel summer?

So. Many. References!! I hope you like this, because I can certainly picture this scene perfectly. I have a few TS rowaelin prompts, so I might do a whole masterlist just for it separated by albums..... Anyways, enjoy!!

Cruel Summer

Aelin was already used to the smell of beer and loud music by now.

When she and Lysandra had just finished freshman year of college, both decided to ditch the dorms and look for an apartment off campus. Everything was either extremely expensive, too far away from campus or both. They were about to give up and just spend another year in the university’s dorms when they found an apartment.

Well, it was more like a shoe box, but it worked just fine. There were two small bedrooms, one bathroom and a living room with a kitchen. Aelin and Lys had almost no money for furniture, so a lot of the space in the apartment was filled with bean bag chairs and thick rugs instead of actual chairs and tables. The painting was fading, the constant need to call a handyman was exhausting but Aelin found it somewhat… comfy.

The rent wasn’t expensive at all and Aelin discovered why the day she moved. The apartment was right above a dive bar, and the thing was kept open 24/7 from Friday to Sunday, opening every day of the week and closing around three in the morning. The music was so loud all the time that sometimes the floor shook. Whenever they opened their windows, the suffocating smell of alcohol would impregnate the apartment.

That was fucking torture during the first days.

Two years later, Aelin found the loud sound and constant smell of beer reassuring, steadying. She and Lys had lived so much shit in that apartment that it stopped being an ugly shoe box and became a home. An ugly home, but a home nonetheless.

Around two months after moving upstairs, Rolfe, the bar owner, offered them jobs at the Sea Dragon. They lived right above it, he said, and so he could alleviate them from a part of their rent and pay a normal salary at the same time. Always in the need of money, both Lys and Aelin accepted.

The dive bar wasn’t shabby, at least not for the neighborhood it was in. It was a hole-in-the-wall, red stools near the bar and a few dark wooden tables around the room. With some pool tables, an old jukebox and an almost never working vending machine, the place looked like it had been left in the 50s. The uniforms were all black, but the shirts were tight button downs and the skirts were pleated.

Aelin fucking loved that place.

She worked there the double amount of hours than Lys did, and she enjoyed herself immensely. She loved choosing the next song and flirting with some customers. She adored teasing old patrons when they were losing at a pool game, and she discovered that she was great making drinks.

The Sea Dragon was Aelin’s little heaven. She worked there the whole weekend, never missing a day. Sometimes during the summer she would work there every day.

And that’s when she met him.

The first time Aelin had seen Rowan Whitethorn during the summer before junior year, she almost dropped the drinks she was holding.

He was standing by the vending machine, the faint blue glow making his silver hair shine. He had a frown on his face, but not even that managed to make him look any less attractive. Dark green eyes, a straight nose and hard features, Aelin wanted him from the second her eyes fell upon his figure.

She gave the drinks to Lysandra, murmuring what table they were supposed to go before walking up to him.

“Any problems?” She said as a way of greeting. The man was staring at the vending machine as if it had personally offended him.

“Aye. It ate two dollars of mine and I didn’t get those disgusting candies you Americans like.” He said, not turning away from the vending machine. Aelin bit her lip, both at his very hot and strong Scottish accent and to hold her laughter in because of the expression on his face.

“You’ll have to be more specific, sir. I can name twenty disgusting American candies from the top of my mind in ten seconds.” She was smiling, her voice tone soft. At that, he turned his head to her, eyes widening slightly. Aelin’s smile grew at that. “Unfortunately this vending machine has a mind of its own. Maybe if you ask gently or smack it violently, it will spew your candy.”

He laughed, scratching the back of his head. “You work here? Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m Rowan.”

“Nah, don’t worry.” She gestured with her hand. “This vending machine is a bitch. You can try punching if you’d like.”

“Your asking me to vandalize your work place?”

She shrugged, turning her head to the bar and shouting. “Rolfe! Can he punch your useless vending machine?”

Rolfe turned to her, staring at both of them and the vending machine before shrugging too. “It’s not like that thing can break. It’s probably older than you by now, blondie.”

Aelin turned back to Rowan. He was looking at her with awe and slight fear. “Go ahead and punch it.”

“I won’t punch your vending machine.”

“Rolfe’s vending machine.”

“Semantics.”

Aelin merely shrugged, walking back to the bar. “Your loss, Rowan.”

“I didn’t catch your name!” He shouted at her, but didn’t move in her direction. She smiled, his accent sounding like music to her ears.

“Because I didn’t tell you!” She shouted back.

After that, for the rest of the summer, Rowan had been to the bar every weekend. Sometimes he would bring in some friends, sometimes he would just sit there and talk to Aelin whenever she had some free time. He was there to do his last two years of college in Boston, his small group of friends joining him. Rowan liked to talk about Scotland and hear about the States whenever Aelin had free time to talk to him, and after a few weeks she would bribe Lysandra into taking more shifts so she could spend more time with Rowan.

When Friday arrived, Aelin would wait excitedly for his and his friend’s arrival. They were a lively group, all five of them, joking and drinking all the time. Aelin would constantly pass by their tables just to hear their lovely accent laced with alcohol and laughter.

It was obvious that Rowan was interested in her, just as it was obvious that Aelin was interested in him, too. Rowan was an extremely nice and hot guy, and Aelin found herself always at ease and laughing around him. There was no pressure, no expectations. Aelin had left clear since the beginning that she wasn’t interested in a relationship. Ever.

She didn’t mention that it was because of her last one, and Rowan had said that it was the same for him. He had broken up with his five years girlfriend the year before moving, and Aelin got goosebumps just from thinking about dating someone again.

The whole relationship was about… fun.

They slept together during the whole summer, becoming friends while doing it. When classes started again, they remained friends who eventually fucked, both agreeing that the other one could end it the moment they felt like it. Both agreeing that there were no romantic ties, no deep and hidden feelings. It was cool, a new sort of heaven with no rules.

Until there was. Until there were ties and feelings and that perfect heaven seemed very breakable.

Until Aelin became a part of Rowan’s routine, and until Aelin found herself too at ease around him. It had been a natural shift, one that Lysandra had said it was bound to happen. Both were on pre-med together, both spent most of their free time together too. They were great friends, slept together and were single. According to her best friend, it was only a matter of time until their friendship became something more.

It had taken a whole year. Things were normal-ish until spring came. With spring break around, Rowan and Aelin spent every hour of the week together, usually at her apartment of at the bar. Rowan had gone so many times to the Sea Dragon, that Rolfe said he was considering buying him as a piece of decoration or as some sort of bar scarecrow to avoid fights. With his black clothes and serious face, Rowan looked like one bad boy from one of the cheap romance books Aelin always read, Rolfe told him while Aelin’s cheeks heated. Rowan had laughed at that, turning to Aelin with humorous smile, and she simply flipped him off.

It had been Aelin’s best week in a very, very long time. But the aftermath just made her freak out.

After Chaol, Aelin had absolutely no interest in getting into another relationship. Her six months with him had been enough to make her hate the prospect of sharing her life romantically with someone again. She didn’t need to find a new guy to open up just to have him throw all her insecurities and fears on her face again. No, Aelin was perfectly fine single.

She kept telling herself that, but every time Rowan was around the hesitation and fear would disappear from her mind. Every time he laughed with her, Aelin would feel her heart beating faster. She could barely contain her own smile when Rowan looked at her. She wanted to touch him all the time, wanted to be around him all the time.

Rowan didn’t seem nearly as hesitant of his romantic feelings towards Aelin, but that probably was due to the fact that he didn’t have a shitty ex haunting his thoughts all the time. Actually, Lyria was a lovely woman who had come to visit during winter and said more than once that Aelin should make a definitive move on Rowan. The girl had given Aelin her number and every now and then the two would talk.

If Rowan had spent five years with someone nice and lovely as Lyria, an actual relationship with Aelin wouldn’t last two weeks. And Aelin would get hurt again. He had obviously hinted many times that he wanted a relationship, but Aelin had just played dumb every time.

She analyzed all her fears, all her emotions and how Rowan made her feel.

She was fucking terrified of all of it.

So she ditched.

By the end of spring, Aelin simply stopped talking to him after saying that she didn’t want a serious relationship at all. Classes were over, and whenever Rowan and his friends came to the bar the next weeks, Aelin would go upstairs and Lys would cover for her. Sometimes, Aelin would look out of her window during the night, hoping to see Rowan under it. It was a way of her seeing his face again but avoiding him seeing her.

It was absolutely miserable.

This time last year was when she had met Rowan, and if she stopped to think, she had been a completely different person. Lately, Aelin didn’t flirt with the customers anymore, instead she would be constantly thinking about flirting with Rowan. She couldn’t look at that stupid vending machine’s blue glow without remembering when she first met Ro. Everything in the Sea Dragon reminded her of him, and she hated it. She hated how he had invaded her space, her little heaven, her life, and messed everything up. She hated the hours he spent in her apartment because now he was also a concept of her home.

She hated how much she wanted him.

“Summer is a cruel bitch.” Aelin complained.

“You love summer.”

“I loved summer. Now it just feels like a knife going down straight to the bone.”

“Just go fucking talk to him, you stubborn prick.” Lysandra said and Aelin simply groaned.

“I could be bleeding out right now and he would be the last one to know.”

“You’re so dramatic, gods. You should be trying but you’re just screwing it up.” Lys frowned.

It was the first Friday in two years that Aelin wasn’t working on the Sea Dragon. Instead, she and Lys decided to have a game night and play some old game board they found in the Sea Dragon’s storage.

“I don’t want to get hurt.” Aelin mumbled, rolling the dice. Lysandra rolled her eyes at her best friend.

“You look hurt right now.”

“I’m happy right now.” Aelin lied, taking the dice and giving to Lysandra.

When Lys put them down, Aelin simply scowled. She didn’t want to have this conversation again. It was summertime again and she was supposed to be having fun, not moping around for a guy that wasn’t even her boyfriend.

“Baby.” Lys said, taking Aelin’s hands. “Chaol was a fucking asshole, we know, but Rowan is different. The two of you were friends for a year, acted like a couple for the most part of it, and he never acted like Chaol. What would change if you gave him a chance?”

“What if he hurts me, Lys? I dated Chaol for six months and didn’t even like him the way I like Rowan. And yet he broke my fucking heart.” Aelin sighed, rubbing her eyes with her palms. “Can you imagine how much worse it will be if Rowan does it?”

“But—“

“No.” Aelin said, getting up. She grabbed her phone, going to the apartment’s door. “I’m not interested. I’ll get over it. It’s just some stupid crush because I spent way too much time with him. I’ll be better off recovering from not having a relationship than I will from recovering from a broken heart. Again.”

“Ace…” Lys said, her face sad.

“I’m gonna go drink something. You coming?” Aelin asked, ignoring her friend’s pity. Lys simply shook her head, and Aelin left, slamming the door behind her.

She went down, entering the bar and pouring herself a drink. None of the baristas stopped her, all knowing her face all too well.

“Tough night, blondie?” Rolfe asked from where he was sitting at the other side of the balcony.

“Tough summer.” Aelin grumbled, taking the whole bottle of whatever she had just poured to herself. She took a swig and Rolfe didn’t even blink at that. After two years, Aelin knew what boundaries she could and couldn’t overstep.

“Your boyfriend was here earlier. Looked like shit, if you’re wondering.”

“I wasn’t. And he’s not my boyfriend.” Aelin drank again, her head already feeling lighter. “Never was.”

“Well he looked like it. For a whole year.” Rolfe looked at her, a small smile playing on his lips. “Is this because of Chaol?”

“Since when do you keep tabs on my love life, Rolfe?” She was too sober to have this conversation again. She took down three gulps, almost coughing at the alcohol burning down her throat.

“You’re my best waitress and you’re always here.” Rolfe laughed. “I probably know more about you than anyone else, blondie.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips. Although Rolfe was an asshole most of the times, Aelin had grown to like him a lot. He was like an uncle sometimes— nosy but always there.

“Should I call him?” Aelin asked, drinking once more before she stared at Rolfe. She had been entertaining the idea for a while now, even though she wouldn’t ever admit that to Lysandra.

“I would.” He shrugged, pointing at the half empty bottle on her hand. She looked down. Whiskey apparently. “But I’d drink about two more of those before.”

For the first time in a while, Aelin actually chuckled. “Yeah, I think I’ll let drunk Aelin decide this.”

Rolfe grinned at her. “I’ll call you a cab when you come crying to me later about your silver headed fling.”

“A cab?” She raised an eyebrow.

“If you’re gonna declare your feelings while drunk, do it in style, sweetheart.” Rolfe winked at her. “Make a whole goddamn scene.”

Aelin stared at the vending machine when Rolfe left. She could feel the alcohol loosening her whole body, allowing her to think in a broader way than she would have allowed herself while sober.

She had fallen in love with Rowan, that much was obvious. It had been slow and almost imperceptible, but it had happened. Maybe a part of her had loved him since the first time she heard his heavy accent and saw his handsome face. Maybe she had started falling when he passionately talked about Scotland, or when he gave her his whole attention when she was the one talking about her childhood. Maybe it had been during their classes when Aelin saw how smart he was, and how much he also appreciated her own intelligence.

Maybe it had been a little bit in every single situation, every moment filling her heart a bit more.

She wanted him so bad, but she was also so scared of having her heart broken again.

She kept thinking for the next few hours, listing the pros and cons of trying something with Rowan.

“Better live regretting something you did than live your whole life regretting what you didn’t, right? Better to take years to recover than to spend the rest of your life wondering what it could have been.” Aelin said to herself, her words slurred. She was on her second bottle and the alcohol was certainly impacting her.

“Are you ok?” Ansel, the other barista, was looking at her strange.

“I’m drunk and talking to myself. Go to work, Briarcliff.” Aelin chided.

“You’re insane, Galathynius.” Ansel grinned, turning to another customer.

At that moment, Aelin made her decision. Her sober self would probably think it was insanity, so she needed to do that now. She needed to take action before she chickened out again.

“Rolfe! The cab!” Aelin shouted, hearing Rolfe’s rich laughter across the bar.

Five minutes later, Aelin was in the back of a cab, drunk out of her mind and with tears streaking down her cheeks. She didn’t really know why she was crying like a baby. Maybe a still lucid part of her was terrified to do what she was planning. Maybe some part of her was crying out of fear of rejection. Maybe the tears were due to her burning throat after so much whiskey.

Who the fuck cared?

“You can stop here please.” She pointed to a pretty house.

She had been there before during the last summer, almost every night when she wasn’t at the Sea Dragon. She would recognize that garden gate even if she was stripped away from her senses.

“Your boss already paid.” The driver said, smiling at her. “Good luck.”

Aelin nodded, a pit opening inside her stomach. “Thanks.”

Gods, what the fuck was she doing?

Without further thought, she snuck in through the garden gate, walking to the backyard. She stopped in front of a window on the second floor. The whole house was dark, and Aelin was feeling the hesitation in her despite the adrenaline and the alcohol.

She cupped her hands around her mouth, closing her eyes. “Rowan.”

She stared at the window for a few seconds, waiting for a light before cupping her mouth and screaming again. “Rowan Whitethorn!”

At that, a single light flickered in his bedroom. Aelin’s heart was beating so fast she though she was going to puke it out. Suddenly, this whole thing seemed like a very bad idea. But it was too late, so she just raised her chin and gathered whatever courage had been created by the whiskey.

Rowan pushed back his curtains, opening the window and scanning the backyard until his eyes fell on her. Immediately, his brows furrowed and eyes widened. “Ace? Is everything fine?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She said, but then shook her head. “Actually that’s not true.”

Rowan seemed so confused that Aelin almost gave up. “What the fuck happened? You disappear for more than a month and then show up at my backyard at three in the morning?”

“I lied before, ok?” She shouted. “And I don’t want to come up with a stupid excuse for it because I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you. I have nothing against relationships. My ex broke my fucking heart and now I am terrified of them. And then you come around and fuck everything up.”

“That’s your secret? That’s what you lied about? Your ex? You came all the way here to tell me about your ex while drunk?” He crossed his arms, looking both pissed and hurt.

“You dumb fuck.” She replied, running her hands through her hair. This could have gone so much more smoothly. “I lied about what I said the last time we talked, about wanting a relationship. The secret is that I didn’t ditch you because I don’t want a relationship or because of my ex. The secret is that I am so fucking in love with you for months now that I am terrified of dating you because you can break my heart in a million pieces.”

“What did you say?” He said quietly, and if her attention wasn’t solely on him, she would have missed.

“Oh well, shit. We’re already here, aren’t we? For whatever it’s worth, Rowan Whitethorn,” Aelin screamed, opening her arms. “I love you! Ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?”

Rowan stared her in silence for a few seconds before retreating into the bedroom. He didn’t say a word, and Aelin’s heart sank. She felt her throat constricting, her stomach turning and turning.

She was about to go back home and hide under the covers with a pot of ice cream when one of the lights from the first floor turned on. Aelin stared expectantly at the glass doors that separated the house’s interior and the backyard. The door opened, and Aelin sighed when she saw Rowan coming to her, his steps purposeful.

“I—“ She started, wanting to explain everything better.

Rowan cupped her face with his hands, his fingers tangling in her hair. “I love you too.” He said before bringing his face down and kissing Aelin.

Her arms circled his waist, and she pressed her body against his. It had been too long since she kissed him, and Aelin sighed as Rowan’s warm mouth moved on hers. She tilted her face up, standing on her tiptoes. She opened her mouth, hands tightening around him as he deepened the kiss.

They stayed like that for minutes until both drew back, breathing deeply. Aelin opened her eyes to see Rowan grinning like the devil at her, and she smiled back at him.

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