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eleanorbloom · 4 years ago

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When You’re Ready Ch. 20

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Angst, PTSD, anxiety, suicidal thoughts. Rated M

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268 @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @freckles-spangledvampire@mercury84choices @curiousconch

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Chapter 20. I’ll Stand By You

I'll stand by you

Take me in, into your darkest hour

And I'll never desert you

Whatever cloud of anxiety and fear had been following her since she got out of the quarantine room, now it seemed in suspension. Right above her head, waiting for the proper moment to come back and shower her with the consequences, with the realizations that inevitably death brings in.

Her family was being like a dome, a bubble protecting her from hurt and pain, and from any damage she could do to herself with her mind. With her thoughts. With the memories, the guilt, the I-should-haves. She could see everything outside, wandering, waiting for any nook to sneak into, but somehow her family managed to catch them before they could reach her.

No one had doubts that there would be aftermaths, that at some point she’d have to face them, but they wanted to delay it as much as they could.

Bryce had identified the anxiety she felt at the thought of being alone, so now everyone was attentive to not leaving her alone.

Her mother had identified the guilt was slowly consuming her. It was the sadness in her eyes, her fingers fidgeting distractingly. It was sometimes just a mother's instinct.

But despite all the effort everyone was making, no one could stop what happened inside her head at night. Somehow, she felt like she was in that quarantine room over and over again. The same heavier sensation on her chest. The feeling of being scared and tired. Of wanting to leave. But someone was pleading her to not go, something was pulling her back to the ground.

When Eleanor went to see Rafael the next morning, it made everything worse, even if she was happy that he had survived.

He was fragile, it would take him a long road to recover, and it was all her fault. Why she had to let him accompany her? Why she had to put him in such danger? Why she ruined his life like that when he had plans? When he wanted to start over?

The only thing she had managed to do was screw his future up. His life.

Verónica knew what was happening. She saw the pain in her eyes, the rage brewing inside her, she saw her knuckles turning white over her knees, her hands grasping the blanket over her tights, the imploring look she gave Rafael while he was speaking. She had seen it so many times. The guilty look. It wasn’t the first time that she was taking responsibility for something that was completely out of her hands. And it wouldn’t be the last time either. But she knew how to handle it. Mothers always know.

As Verónica knew when she was feeling bad, she also knew the best ways to put her out of her misery, to distract her, to not let her mind sunk in guilty and self-deprecation. “Honey, is that true that Bryce braided your hair?” she asked, while she was combing her hair after returning from Rafael’s room.

She felt the exact moment her body relaxed at the mention of Bryce. Then, she chuckled, and a bright smile rested on her face. “Yes, he did. And I still can’t believe it.”

“I have to say he’s pretty good at it. It barely loosened overnight, and you have amazing waves in your hair now.”

“Heh. Please repeat this in his presence. Or not. He won’t shut up about it for a week.”

“He deserves to be proud of that talent. Well, more than a talent, this is a skill. A very useful skill. Now you don’t have to worry about doing your daughter’s hair all by yourself because he’ll deal with it pretty well. Maybe even better than you.”

Eleanor glanced back at her, flushed, “Mom!”

“Oh, sorry, darling, could be a son too, there’s nothing wrong with boys having long hair.”

“Mamá…”

“Well, maybe you don’t want to have kids, and that’s respectable, sorry for being too intrusive.”

Eleanor giggled, amused, “You really liked him, uh?”

“Is there any other alternative, Ellie? He’s too likable. Too charming. And he’s been an angel with you. I don’t feel nothing but gratitude towards him.”

“He’s been amazing. Not just now. He has always been this way…”

Suddenly a knock on the door interrupted her, “Can I come in?”

Eleanor looked at the door where Keiki was standing with a mix of shyness and surprise, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw pain flashing her eyes, “Keiki! Yes, come in!”

The girl walked towards her and, in a surprising act, hugged her, “Ella! I’m so happy you’re okay!”

She had never done that before. Hug her and speak to her with such sincerity. The had become close by the weeks, but she never had shown any spontaneous affection towards her, not even to Bryce. “Keiki! Oh! Thank you. And I’m so happy to see you again! I missed you.” She said, her eyes glimmering with emotion at the gesture,

“Me too.”

Eleanor smiled at her and then Keiki looked at Verónica, standing at the other side of the bed. “Oh, let me introduce you to my mom, Verónica. Mom, she’s Bryce’s sister, Keiki.”

“Hi, Mrs. Bloom, nice to meet you.” She said, giving her a brief nod.

"Hello, Keiki, nice to meet you too. I’ve heard so much about you!”

“You have?”

“Oh, yes, Ellie has mentioned you lots of times! She says you're incredibly smart and sass and she loves spending time with you. Must be she misses the role of elder sister.”

Both girls laughed in agreement. Then, Verónica got up from the bed and walked towards the door, “I’ll leave you to it, girls, I’ll call mom.”

“Okay send her and Tata a kiss, please.”

“Sure, honey,”

“How are you feeling?” Keiki asked once Verónica closed the door behind her.

“Still a bit tired, but I can’t complain.”

“Bryce told me Rafael woke up this morning.”

“Yes! And he’s doing fine. Now we are waiting for Danny to wake up. You can go to see him too, I’m sure he will be happy to see you.”

“My volleyball buddy.”

“The biggest treason you could’ve done to you brother.”

“Oh, please. We both know how much he loved kicking my ass that day.”

“Well, yeah.”

Suddenly, Keiki chuckled, “You should’ve seen him yesterday at lunch. Freaking out.”

“Freaking out?”

“Yes, he told me he would meet your parents at night, and he didn’t know what to do, what to say… It was hilarious seeing him freaking out when… he usually doesn’t freak out with anything… Well, if not involves cooking, of course”

“Why didn’t I notice? To me he looked pretty composed when he came back.”

“Well, at home he was rambling, saying he would screw it up, wondering what he would do if they didn’t like him.”

“No way! He was really freaking out! I would’ve never imagined he would be nervous about that, I mean, he’s the King of Smooths.”

They both laughed, “He told me he wasn’t in that situation since he was seventeen, and… well at that moment the situation was very different because our dad was already in jail, so it’s understandable the bad experience.”

“But now nothing of that matters, he’s a very accomplished young man.”

“Now he’s Mister Imaginary Boyfriend.”

Eleanor snorted, “Oh god, he told you?”

“Yeah, he told me every second since he met your parents. He woke me up when he got home and had me until 3 am gushing about it.”

Eleanor and Keiki laughed and kept catching up and laughing for a few hours until the teen decided to visit Kyra and then Rafael, so Eleanor could have some rest.

The following days weren't very much different. Benjamin returned to Detroit, but her parents would stay in the city until she was discharged.

Danny woke up two days later. He’d have to remain in the ICU for a long time, but he’d be fine. Even if Eleanor had seen Sienna happy for Rafael’s and her recovery, just when Danny woke up she was the same Sienna again. With hope in her eyes, with the glimmer that characterized her kind and sweet smile. Her happiness was now complete.

The next day after Danny woke up, she was discharged, just in time to attend Bobby’s funeral.

The dome she’d been in the last three days couldn’t protect her from what was coming. Even if her parents and Bryce tried to convince her that she didn’t have to attend Bobby Gunderson’s memorial, she insisted that she had. That she was fine enough to attend.

Physically yes, she was. But the moment she set a foot in the memorial, Eleanor realized that emotionally, she wasn’t. She would never be.

It was so tangible how the dome started to vanish. How the pain, the guilt, the regrets, everything, was coming to get her.

And the guilt… the guilt soaked her to the bones.

Seeing the pain in the other person is painful. But seeing the mix of gratefulness and envy in the family is hard to manage. Because Eleanor can’t help but think that Bobby’s wife was glad that the rest survived but can’t help but wonder why her husband had to die, why he was the only one who’s gone, why he was the only unfortunate. Why just him and not Eleanor, or Rafael, or Danny. Why she wasn’t as lucky as Verónica and Robert, who had their family complete.

And Eleanor can’t blame her.

Why it had to be him when she was the responsible one? The Senator was her patient, she had discovered that Travis was poisoning him, she should’ve informed Ethan, and Banerji, and the police, and not deal with the situation by herself, let alone involve innocent people.

If someone deserved to die, was her. It was her fault what had happened. Mrs. Gunderson didn’t deserve any of the pain and sorrow she was feeling, nor her family.

The rest of the afternoon went in a blur. She lost track of time and space for periods. Sometimes she focused on the conversation she had in front of her, sometimes her mind wandered. Sometimes the guilt was too big she couldn’t think about anything else. Sometimes she couldn’t think about anything.

She wasn’t alone any minute. Whether she was with Bryce, her parents, or her friends, she was wandering through the service and reception like a wave in the middle of the sea, moved by external impulse, and not by her own will.

A couple of hours later, while Bryce and Eleanor were talking to Jackie and Aurora, her parents approached to say goodbye. They gave a grateful hug to her friends and thanked them for the umpteenth time for all they did for their daughter. Then, Eleanor and Bryce led them outside, where the taxi was waiting for them. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay here, sweetheart?”

Robert and Verónica gave her a worried glance. She was paler than when she got out of the hospital, and Verónica could read the haunting in her eyes.

Even if Eleanor knew her mom probably read her, she gave both her parents a reassuring smile, “Yeah, mom, don’t worry, I’ll be staying with Bryce and Keiki so she’ll keep me company while Bryce is working.”

“Okay, but if you need anything, please call us, okay?”

“I promise,”

Robert pulled her into a hug while Verónica did the same with Bryce, “Visit us soon, Sunny. You could stay with us if you’re getting bored here, you know? We will always be happy to have you."

“I’ll keep it in mind, thanks dad,”

“And of course you too, Bryce, visit us soon with Keiki, I’m sure she’d be delighted with the lovely spots that we have in Cincinnati to take pictures of.”

"Thank you, Veronica, we'll plan a trip for sure. Hope you have a safe flight."

Then it was the time for Bryce to say goodbye to Robert, “I know there’s no need, but take care of my Sunny, alright?”

“Of course, Robert. With my life.”

“Please call us if you need anything, if you need help or if something is happening with Ellie. You have our numbers now.”

“I will.”

Hours later, when they arrived home, Eleanor went directly to bed. Her head was bumping and couldn’t handle another word with anyone. Bryce decided to join Keiki in the living room and watch something on the TV. She’d been alone most of the day.

Now that she was out of the hospital, the idea of being alone wasn’t as hard as it was at Edenbrook. She was alone in the room, but there were people near. And Bryce’s room didn’t remind her of the attack, and she didn’t feel like someone would appear from anywhere and would threaten her life again.

In fact, now she was relieved of being alone, at last. Now she could let all her feelings flow.

Her mom had been filling her with questions, comments, and ideas to not let her think about the attack, and even if Eleanor was grateful for the help she had given her, somehow that just had made her accumulate things. Accumulate thoughts, feelings, anger, guilt.

She buried her face in the pillow and cried, anger exploding in her core like a balloon that can’t hold any more air.

She was so mad. With the world. With herself. Above all, with herself.

She deserved misery, pain. A man had died because of her and her irresponsibility.

She didn’t deserve people worrying about her.

What was her purpose after this? Why had life decided that her life was more worthy than Bobby’s? How could she live with his death on her back? With the suffering Rafael and Danny will have to endure to recover?

It was all her fault.

She didn’t know how much time she cried, but after a while, she started seeing flashes of that horrid night. The night she should’ve died.

At first, it was calm. Bryce was lulling her to sleep. For a moment, everything felt fine. But then it was all darkness and pain, and a voice breaking the silence in the middle of the darkness, pleading. “Please protect her. Don’t take her away. Don’t take her away from me. Please. Please,” she could hear while a tight grip was pulling her by the hand.

She was floating in midair, tired, ready to go. Her whole body was aching. But the grip on her hand was like an anchor, it wasn’t letting her go very far. Something kept pulling her to the ground. She didn’t know what or who. It was dark.

But then she saw Bryce’s face over her, his arms around her, and he was sobbing incessantly. Tears spilling down his cheeks and to the window of the hazmat suit, “Please, stay with me, stay with me” he begged, pulling her life like a kite flying away in a storm.

“Bryce…” She tried to whisper, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move or speak. She was exhausted. But she could see him, she could hear him.

She had never seen him like that. So broken. So… desperate.

It was in sorrow. Desolation. But it wasn’t real, isn’t it? It was just a dream.

“Stay with me, please. Babe, don’t leave me, please. I don’t know what I’d do without you, please.” She could feel the lump in his throat aching with every word. The desperation in his grip, the fear with every inch he pulled her against his chest. She knew it was a dream, but something about it felt so real. So familiar.

“Bryce…” She tried again.

“Please don’t leave me.”

She wanted to go. She was tired. She deserved to die. She was the one who should’ve died.

But Bryce didn’t let her.

“Elle, babe.”

Why didn't he just let her go? Couldn't he see the pain was too much? That she couldn't live with herself after what she did to Bobby?

“Babe… Love, wake up. Wake up.”

And then she opened her eyes and found Bryce, no hazmat suit, no tears, just a concerned look on his face in dim light, “Babe, what happened?”

She looked around, trying to distinguish where she was. It was his room. The lamp on his nightstand was turned on, there was absolute silence in the apartment. Bryce was sitting at the edge of the bed with boxers and a shirt on, his hair disheveled. They both had been sleeping.

“I was… dreaming…”

And as she remembered her dream, rage suddenly started to boil inside her. Unstoppable, unbearable. All the rage and guilt and anger that had been brewing inside her, was unleashed now that she knew it had been him, “Why didn’t you just let me go?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why you held me and begged, and prayed to keep me alive… When I was so tired and I…” Eleanor covered her face with both hands in exasperation, “I… I wanted to go but you didn’t let me, you pulled me to stay with you, but I shouldn’t be here, Bryce… I should be the one... I don’t deserve to be here”

Bryce’s face disfigured at her words and shook his head instantly, “Don’t say that,” his voice was indignant.

"But it's true. I'm responsible for this. Bobby shouldn’t have died. I should have. He didn’t deserve to die, I was the stupid one who thought I could deal with the situation…”

“Elle, you’re not responsible for this, the only one to blame here is Travis. He wanted to kill the Senator, he brought the canister. You just tried to save him.”

“But I… I did it all wrong. I should’ve called the cops, he was dangerous, I put everyone in danger… And an innocent person died.”

“And just for that you think you should’ve died?”

“I-, if there was someone that should’ve paid the price, that was me. Not Bobby, or Raf of Danny. I ruined their lives.”

“No, Eleanor. The only one who should’ve paid the price was Travis, and he paid it with his life. It should’ve been in jail, but he did pay.”

Silence.

Bryce’s words made sense. But that didn’t stop her from feeling all the rage she had inside.

But the rage wasn’t actually towards Bryce, she realized. It was towards herself, for wanting to live, for fighting for her life and succeed, when she didn’t deserve it. Bobby deserved to live. “I don’t know. It’s just that… I can’t stop feeling guilty, all the time, Bryce. When I see Raf, Danny, suffering, when I saw Mrs. Gunderson, her daughter, all his family suffering, I feel terrible. I am responsible for this, and I’m here, alive, safe. I’m the least affected of all. I don’t deserve to be here when I brought so much pain with my actions.”

Bryce gave her a sad look as his eyes started to glimmer, then he laid down beside her and pulled her towards his body, “Babe how could you say that? You deserve to live. What you did not deserve was to die, to die because of some stupid psycho who didn't give a damn about anyone else but his revenge. He's the only one who should've died, and he did. Unfortunately, Bobby died too, but that’s not on you.”

Eleanor shivered at the feeling of his touch, of his comforting and soothing touch. She looked deep into his amber eyes and for a moment, things weren’t as horrible as it seemed. “But how… How can I live after this? What can I do with all this anger I have inside? How I stop feeling anger towards you for… For not letting me go? Towards myself for surviving?”

“I think that’s something you have to figure out with time, babe. I know this is all dark and horrible right now, but with the proper help, it will get better. Soon you’ll understand that this is not your fault. Just don’t give up.”

Eleanor nodded, and then she nuzzled her face against his chest, his lips brushing her forehead as his arms enveloped her in a tight and warm embrace.

After a few seconds, she couldn't help but whisper, "Was it real?"

“What?”

Eleanor parted from him a few inches so she could see him in the eyes, “What I dreamed? You really said those things and… held my hand… like you were trying to hold me to life?”

Bryce couldn’t hide the conflict in his eyes, how reluctant he felt about responding to her, but after a few seconds, he nodded, “Yes. I didn’t leave your side, and I didn’t let go of your hand for a second. I was scared that you would go if you… If you felt alone.”

“Would have been that difficult if I had died?”

“How… How can you ask me that, Elle?” His voice broke all of a sudden, as if the last source of strength had crumbled inside him.

“It’s just… you were so desperate. I… I’d never seen you like that. I could have never imagined you could break like that.”

“I broke a lot of times that day, actually, but I didn’t want you to see me like that. I wanted to be strong for you, but at that moment… You were so fragile, so in pain… that the idea of losing you was… too much, more than I could handle…” Bryce sighed and wiped the tears streaming down his cheeks. Eleanor stroke his hair, looking pensive at him.

Then his eyes looked at her for a few seconds, deeply and thoughtfully, like he’d never done before.

It was with a vulnerability that had never seen in him, not even that night at the quarantine room, not even in the shower while she was crying her fears away, not even the night he told her about his parents and Keiki.

It was raw vulnerability, and not by chance or by the circumstances. He was choosing to show himself like that in front of her. He was opening a door that had never been opened. And it was heartbreaking. Her heart ached at the sight of it.

“Eleanor you… You’ve been the only person that has loved me… That has loved me for who I am. That has seen the broken pieces of me, my past, my mistakes and… and even still has kept loving me.” A shiver cursed down her spine as the words reached her ears, just as it happens when a heartbreaking truth is revealed. How? How this could happen? “Even before you said you were in love with me, you loved me like no one else ever did. Without judging, without wavering.” His voice was tremulous, his eyes threatening with tears again, but he looked so, so earnestly at her that for a moment she didn't recognize him. And in fact, she didn’t know him. She was meeting Bryce for the first time. The real Bryce. The Bryce under layers and layers of protection built over the years. The Bryce she always wanted to meet. Where she wanted to dive in.

Her brain couldn’t process such truth. She could’ve never imagined that no one… No one had loved him unconditionally. How? How so many people could miss him?

“It took me years to come to terms with the fact that I lost my parents. I never did with my sister for some reason, and now she’s here. I always thought I’d be alone my whole life… But everything changed when I met you. I could trust someone for the first time. I could love someone for the first time. That's why I was so scared at first when you met Keiki. Because it would've been extremely difficult for me to overcome our breakup in case you choose Ethan, or simply because you didn't want me. But then I chose to let you in… And… is it beautiful as it is frightening. The fear of losing you is worse. I would’ve never overcome it if you’d gone, Eleanor. That’s why… I was so… desperate. So hopeless, because I don’t know what I’d do if I lose you. You mean too much to me.” He couldn’t go on. The lump in his throat was too painful.

Eleanor pulled him into a hug and kissed his temple, “Bryce, my love… I…” She couldn’t continue either. The truth hurt too much. So she simply held him and pulled him towards her chest, stroking his hair, kissing his temple, letting him know that she was there for him.

“I’m sorry, it’s just I… I can’t stop thinking about that day, about the moment I found out you were in danger, when I saw you there, scared. When… when you started crying because the pain was too much. I still hear your screams sometimes, and it breaks my heart every time I think what you went through” He shook his head, trying to suppress the memories but he needed to let all out. “And… I can’t stop thinking about the moment I held you in my arms and suddenly you felt so heavy that for a moment I thought you were…” He needed to say it. The word had been eating him alive all those days, and he knew he needed to say it to find some kind of closure, to face this idea with reality. "I thought you were dead."

But the reality was that she wasn’t dead. She was with him.

“I thought you were dead and I…” He held her like clinging to life. Almost like how she clung to him in that quarantine room.

You never know when the roles can be reversed.

For the first time in days, Eleanor felt thankful for being alive. Even if she still felt guilty about Bobby's death, at that moment she realized how much more damage would've done her death. The pain that could've caused her family and friends. The pain that could've inflicted in Bryce. How devastated he would've been. And she didn’t want that. He didn’t want more suffering for Bryce. She wanted her happiness.

So, somehow, somewhere between all that pain, all those fears, all those tears, and late-night confessions, Eleanor found some sense of purpose. A reason to stay alive, to stay positive, a reason to heal.

She knew it wasn’t a definitive solution, that at some point she would find her path again, her own sense of life, but right now, when all was dark and painful, Bryce was pulling her back to life again.

“But I’m here, I’m here my love, I’m with you. And I’ll always be, I promise.”

His love was saving her again.

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A/N: This chapter was larger, but I decided last minute to cut it because I honestly didn’t want another chapter with more than 6k. Who knows if I’m going to keep my own promise next chapter haha

Thank you so much for reading! ❤

#bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #bryce x casey #bryce x mc #open heart #open heart choices #oh choices #open heart fanfiction #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices #Pixelberry

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allsassnoclass · 4 years ago

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hiii hazel, would love to see you take on "hi we're neighbors and omg are you alright I could smell (cooking) burning- whoaaa now that's embarrassing? step aside I'll handle this" with Lashton? or anyone with Luke tbh this is a Luke thing to me 💜

alrighty here you go! Luke being a bad cook is something that I try to include in fics as often as possible so this was fun

The hallway smells.

That's not completely unusual, because the apartment complex has a bunch of different people living in close proximity and inevitably some of them will like cooking or use too much air freshener or smoke weed, not to mention that the building itself isn't always scentless, either. Ashton has been here long enough that he typically barely notices when he gets back from work.

Still, the hallway doesn't usually smell so strongly like burnt food, and he can't typically hear the sounds of someone swearing and fretting over their ruined dish coming from the door across from his.

That apartment belongs to a guy named Luke. He's devastatingly pretty and owns a dog but otherwise lives alone. That's the only information Ashton has managed to learn about him in their short time as neighbors, despite how much the first fact intrigues him.

More swearing comes from behind the door, then it's being thrown open, a little bit of smoke vapor trailing into the hallway.

Luke still looks devastatingly pretty, but in a much messier way than usual. The top half of his hair is pulled back haphazardly in a scrunchy, the rest of it curling frantically around his neck and chin. There's flour or a similar white substance smeared across his shirt (broad chest!!! Ashton's inner voice says), and something darker is smeared on his forehead. He has two oven mitts covering his hands, and they need to be washed.

"Oh," Luke says, spotting him. His face is red, but Ashton can't tell if it's from embarrassment or because he's been leaning over a hot pan or oven for too long. "Sorry. I didn't want to set off the smoke alarm. There's no fire, don't worry."

"I wasn't," Ashton says. "I could smell the cooking."

Luke laughs bitterly. "You mean burning."

"What are you making?" he asks. Luke leans against the doorframe, taking off the oven mitts and frowning at something dried onto them.

"I was trying to make quiche. I have friends coming over and they keep saying that I can't cook. I was trying to prove them wrong."

"Wow," Ashton whistles. "Quiche can be hard. Don't feel bad about messing it up."

"Okay, but I still have to face them when we eat take out instead of the home-cooked meal I promised."

"Can you make something else?" he asks. Luke sighs, heavy like it's being dragged up from deep inside him. He's pouting now, and something about a pretty boy pouting is making Ashton feel a little weak at the knees.

"I could help, if you want. I'm a great cook."

Luke bites his lip for a moment, chewing at the corner.

"No, you have other stuff to do," he says eventually.

"Not really," Ashton says lightly. "Seriously, I like cooking, and I'd feel better about the fire alarm if you weren't attempting to do it alone."

Thankfully, the joke makes Luke snort instead of falling flat. Ashton watches his internal debate play out across his face with bated breath.

"Okay," Luke says. "Thanks. I need all the help I can get."

Luke's apartment is a mirror of his own, complete with a cluttered side tables by his futon in the living room. The biggest difference is that there are dog toys scattered across the floor, squeaking when he accidentally steps on one. The dog they belong to looks up from where she's laying in the corner, but otherwise makes no other noise or movements. He wouldn't have even noticed her if her collar hadn't jingled.

"That's Petunia," Luke says. "Piggy, this is Ashton from across the hall. Be nice."

Petunia lays back down. He'd be more offended over being dismissed by a dog if he wasn't fully focused on looking at the pictures Luke has on his walls, trying to spot if a significant other is present.

None of them look particularly romantic. Interesting.

"How long until your friends arrive?" Ashton asks, following Luke to the kitchen.

"Half an hour. I can delay them a little if I need to."

"What ingredients do you have?"

"Um, not much," Luke says. "Cal is a vegetarian, so we can't use any meat."

"Pasta then?" Ashton asks. "It's relatively easy but will still taste good. We can add some stuff to the sauce, make it a little heartier."

"Sure," Luke says. "I might have some garlic toast in the freezer, too."

He opens a cupboard, rifling around and pulling out a box of rotini from behind all the open boxes of cereal. Ashton takes the opportunity to look at how his shirt stretches over his back, hugging his shoulders and ribs.

"I don't know if I have sauce," Luke says, breaking Ashton's trance.

"That's okay, we can make some. I have canned crushed tomatoes, then we just throw some spices and garlic and maybe vegetables in there and it'll be fine."

"Sure, whatever you say. I'm at your mercy here."

Luke leans against the counter, looking up at Ashton from under his eyelashes. Ashton swallows.

"I'll nose around your spices then get the tomatoes," he says. "You should put the water to boil."

He takes the time in his own apartment to try to compose himself. He takes a few deep breaths, then checks his hair in his phone camera to be sure it doesn't look like shit. He grabs the tomatoes and some mushrooms then heads back to Luke's apartment to be the cooking hero he needs right now.

Luke isn't an awful cook, but it quickly becomes clear that he's inexperienced and easily distracted. Ashton doesn't exactly want to let him near more knives than necessary, but having him slice half a bell pepper and some mushrooms is safer than asking him to mince the garlic.

"Wow, that smells really good," Luke says, craning his head to see the pan where the garlic is cooking in a little bit of oil.

"Eyes on the knife, Luke," he commands. "Don't cut off your finger, please."

Luke flushes and resumes his cutting. Ashton gets a can opener and starts working on the tomatoes.

"So, you cook a lot?" Luke asks.

"Yeah, I guess," Ashton says. "I used to make dinner for my siblings a lot, and I figure if I have to eat I might as well make things that taste good."

"I'm not good at teaching myself," Luke says. "Nothing I try works."

"If you ever need a cooking tutor, I'm your guy," he offers. "My rates are very cheap. For someone as pretty as you, I'd do it for free."

Something clatters and Ashton considers that maybe he should have waited until Luke wasn't holding a knife to start being forward. A quick glance over reveals that there's no bloodshed, thankfully.

"I'm sure I could find some way to pay you back," Luke says. "I have many other talents."

"Oh? Like what?"

"You'll have to stick around to find out." Luke winks at him, cocking his hip a little. Ashton feels a thrill flourish in his gut.

"Ashton, the water's boiling."

Right, cooking. Ashton is cooking right now, not only flirting with a cute boy.

The pasta goes in the water with a timer set, the garlic toast goes in the oven, and the vegetables and some basil go in the sauce. Ashton and Luke move around each other easily except a few moments of contact like the brush of an arm or a hand ghosting over the small of a back, too purposeful to be coincidence. It sets the hair of Ashton's arms on end. The fill the time with more conversation, both small talk and a little flirting that Luke picks up and returns. Ashton is so wrapped up in Luke and their food that the sound of the buzzer makes him jump.

"That'll be Michael and Calum," Luke says right as the timer for the pasta and the one for the sauce go off.

"Buzz them up, I'll take care of this," he says. He turns off the stove and drains the pasta, putting it back in the pot and tossing the sauce in. He's taking the garlic toast out of the oven when the door to Luke's apartment opens with a bang.

"Did you set off the smoke alarm?" one of the guys in the doorway says loudly while Petunia trots over to snuffle at their feet.

"Fuck off, Michael," Luke says. "You're not going to get any if you keep insulting me."

The other man finishes petting Petunia and makes eye contact with Ashton, slapping his companion on the arm.

"Who's your friend, Luke?" he asks.

"This is Ashton," Luke says, coming to stand by him. "He's going to teach me how to cook."

"Oh,this is Ashton," Michael says. "Interesting."

"I'm Calum, he's Michael," the other man says.

"Nice to meet you," Ashton says. "I should get going."

"Woah, wait," Michael says. "You aren't going to stay for dinner?"

"Well--"

"Stay for dinner!" Calum says. "Looks like there's enough food. We've heard about you, but I think we should know Luke's cooking teacher."

He says "cooking teacher" with a waggle of his eyebrows. Ashton wants to know what Luke could possibly have said about him before today.

"Calum," Luke hisses.

"Stay for dinner, Ashton," Michael says. Ashton looks at Luke, who smiles slightly.

"Only if you want."

"Do you want me to?" he asks. Luke smiles again, much too bashful for someone who was so confident while they were cooking, and nods.

"Okay," he says. Michael and Calum cheer, but Ashton is more focused on how pleased Luke seems, tugging Ashton towards the table with a hand on his arm.

Sitting down to eat, Ashton hopes this is going to be the first of many meals together.

#my writing #lashton #chugging along trying to write things trying to get stuff done!#honestly not sure how I feel about this one #but I think it's the best I could do for the prompt right now #this was actually originally supposed to be a ficmas one I think it's from that round ofprompts #but I wrote the roylum fic instead #and it's not a holiday-specific prompt so! all works out in the end

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quickspinner · 5 years ago

Text

Beautiful Dreams - Ch 1 Wake Up Call

Or read it on AO3

Summary: It’s been years since Luka’s spoken to his old friend Adrien. Of course he knew about the divorce--it was big news when the golden boy of fashion split with his wife and head designer, but Luka’s had his own problems to worry about. He doesn’t think much about it when Adrien brings his son Louis in for music lessons, until he meet’s Louis’ mother and Adrien’s ex-wife, Marinette. Suddenly his life is a whole lot more interesting, and a whole lot more complicated.

No powers, aged-up Lukanette, past Adrienette

Rating/Warnings: Rated M, later chapters will include implied sexual content (nothing explicit happens on screen), TW for death of family members, grieving, depression, divorce

Author’s note: I’ve been really excited about this project and I’m super excited to finally start sharing it with you. It’s a little heavier than my other work, but still lots of fluff and romance, so I hope you’ll enjoy it.

“Hey, Luka, it’s been a long time.”

“It has, Adrien. I hope you’ve been well.”

“Well, I’m...I’m getting along. I can’t really say better than that. I mean, I’m sure you heard, it was a media circus. This whole thing is...not what I wanted, to say the least.”

“Yeah. How’s the kid handling it?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t think he’s doing all that well but he just clams up and won’t talk to anyone. And last time he was here, he didn’t want to touch the piano at all. His mother said it’s the same at her place. His current instructor is a good teacher but he doesn’t have the patience to deal with Louis right now. I know you’re busy but I was hoping you could fit Louis in your schedule. If there’s anyone who can draw his passion for music back out, it’s you.”

“Mmm. I want to help, Adrien, but I do have a full roster of students right now, I’m just not sure if—“

“Pick two of your lower income students. I’ll sponsor them for as long as Louis is taking lessons with you.”

“Man, you know I hate it when you throw money at problems like it’s the cure for all ills.”

“I do, but I’m desperate and I know it’ll work this time.”

“Ugh...I do have some talented students that could really use that support. All right, I’ll find a way to fit him in. Although honestly, Adrien, I probably would have done it anyway.”

“Thanks, Luka. Let me know when and where, and we’ll make time in his schedule to get him there.”

***

Luka looked over his newest student and concluded that he must take after his mother, since he didn’t look much like Adrien at all. His hair was dark and his eyes, while still green, had more blue in them than Adrien’s did. He had a little more of Adrien in the chin and the nose, but his build was lean and slender. He was a smart kid, too, looking Luka over with the same scrutiny, taking in Luka’s blue-tipped hair, the black turtleneck and black jeans, eyes lingering on the tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves.

Luka crouched down to Louis’ height and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you, Louis.”

“M. Couffaine,” the boy greeted seriously, shaking his hand with all the formality and gravity of a tiny businessman. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

Luka kept his distaste behind his professional mask. He’d never approved of teaching children to tell polite lies. But for all that Adrien had tried to let go of his father’s strict teachings, Louis Agreste was nothing less than rigidly formal and polite.

“You can call me Luka,” he told the boy, who glanced back at his father. Adrien gave him a slight nod and Louis turned back. “I know some teachers prefer a more formal relationship,” Luka continued as if he hadn’t seen this. “But I like to think music is too personal for formality. I want you to be comfortable, though, so if you prefer M. Couffaine, we can go with that.”

Louis blinked, momentarily startled out of his formal composure. “Umm...I’m fine with Luka. Thanks.” A hand rose to rub at the back of his neck in a gesture Luka immediately recognized. Clearly the kid hadn’t expected to have a choice in the matter.

Luka smiled. “Okay. Let me talk to your dad for a second, and then we’ll get started, okay? You can stay here and listen if you want, or you can follow that hall to the studio, that’s where the piano is.”

Louis looked past Luka curiously. “Can I look at some of your other instruments?”

“Sure,” Luka straightened up. “Look all you want, just please don’t touch anything you don’t already know how to play, okay?”

Louis nodded and went off to look at the row of guitars along the wall.

“So,” Luka said, turning to stand next to Adrien and folding his arms as he watched Louis explore. “Tell me why you brought him to me.”

“I was thinking about it even before the divorce,” Adrien told him. “You know I was good as a concert pianist but I was never a composer. Louis, though, he’s got his mother’s creativity. I know I’m biased as his father, but I think he could be a really good songwriter someday. But now…” Adrien sighed. “I’m really worried about him,” he continued in a low voice. “I mean, he’s been seeing a therapist since we told him about the divorce, but...I don’t know.” Adrien sighed again, scrubbing his hand over his face. “He just doesn’t seem to be bouncing back the way he should. He’s so serious and sad all the time, and he seems like he’s lost his passion for music. He wanted to quit and Marinette wanted to let him. We kind of fought about it, actually. This is a compromise. If he still wants to quit after he’s worked with you for a while, I’ll let him, but I’m hoping you can help him. The way you connect with music, it’s unique. Frankly, if you can’t help him then maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”

Luka made a thoughtful noise. “I can try. I can’t guarantee it. Some people just lose the spark. Or it may be too painful for him to play right now, but he’ll pick it up again in a few years.”

“We used to play together all the time.” Adrien’s voice cracked. “He never wants to play with me anymore.”

Luka put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “He’s not rejecting you, Adrien. I’m sure of that. Just give him a little time. I’ll work with him and we’ll see what happens. In the meantime, you work on finding other ways to connect with him. Don’t pressure him about the music at all for now, okay? Let him know you’re willing to play with him whenever he wants to and then drop it.” Luka frowned. “And if he does ask to play with you, you better be ready to drop whatever you’re doing and play. No excuses, Adrien.”

“I wouldn’t,” Adrien protested.

Luka folded his arms again. “All right, now I’m going to piss you off, so brace yourself.”

“Great,” Adrien muttered, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Tell me what’s going on with you and his mother.”

Sure enough, Adrien scowled. “Why do you need to know that?”

“Do you want me to teach him, or not?” Luka asked calmly. “You brought him to me for a reason, Adrien. I’m not trying to pry for the gritty details, but I need to know what’s going on in his head. Are you still friendly or...”

“We’re...strained. We’re both in therapy but—” Adrien shook his head. “She left me, Luka. I’m having a really hard time forgiving her for that. And—” Luka glanced at him as he seemed to struggle to get the words out. “I think she’s having a hard time forgiving herself for it too,” Adrien finally finished, grudgingly. “She’s working a lot. She’s been my head designer at Gabriel since my father passed. She doesn’t need me, she’s more than talented enough to split off and form her own brand. But she hasn’t done it. It’s been...less than a clean break. We’re managing to work together civilly because we have to, none of the other designers have the vision to keep Gabriel relevant, but it’s still pretty tense.”

“How’s she with Louis?”

“She’s a fantastic mom, everything I wish I could have had as a kid. She pays attention to him, she always puts his needs first. She indulges him without spoiling him, she pushes him without pressuring him, she encourages him to do better without making him feel like he’s not good enough.” Adrien sighed, and swallowed.

“I loved her so much,” he said thickly. “I built my whole life around her. I’ve accepted that she’s gone and she’s not coming back, but...I don’t know. Deep down I love her and I want her to be happy, but I can’t seem to stop being angry at her and she just takes whatever cruel thing comes out of my mouth because she thinks she deserves it. I don’t know how we got so twisted up.”

Luka turned and pulled Adrien into a hug. “It’s okay to be upset, man,” he told his old friend. “It’s okay.” They stayed that way for a moment, until Adrien pulled away.

“I’m sorry I let us go so long without contact, and now here I’m only calling because I need your help. I’m a terrible friend,” Adrien sighed. “And I should have called you after—” Luka flinched, and Adrien broke off. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“That’s life, Adrien,” Luka shrugged, staring at the floor. “I haven’t exactly been breaking down your door either, so don’t sweat it. You and I just run in different circles right now, and that’s okay. Doesn’t mean we’re not friends. Now you go do your thing, and Louis and I will go do ours, and we’ll see where all this goes.”

Adrien and Louis said a quick goodbye, and Louis reluctantly followed Luka to the studio. Luka sat next to him at the piano, leaving plenty of space between them. “Okay, Louis, we’re just going to see how much you know, okay? No pressure, this isn’t a pass-fail kinda thing. It’s just to help me see where to start with you.” He set Louis some basic exercises, unsurprised when the boy flew through them with an expression that was a mix of melancholy and boredom. Luka worked him up through the exercises until he thought he had a good idea of Louis’ ability, and then set the music books aside.

“Okay,” Luka said, “Now play me something that makes you happy. Anything you want.”

Louis gave him a startled look. Luka just looked back expectantly. Louis’ hands crept to the instrument, and then fell away again. Luka just waited.

“It doesn’t make me happy anymore,” Louis whispered. “It just makes me miss my dad.”

Luka put his hand on Louis shoulder. “That’s okay. And it’s brave of you to admit that. But your dad isn’t gone, Louis. I know that he loves you and he’ll play with you any time you ask. That’s not something you have to give up.”

“It’s not the same.”

“I know,” Luka said sympathetically, genuinely feeling for the boy. “Nothing stays the same forever. Sometimes change comes when we’re not expecting it and it’s hard. Especially when you feel like you don’t have any control over what’s happening and you just wish everything could go back to the way it was, but you know it can’t. So,” he finished, dropping his hand, “Try playing something that expresses how you’re feeling. It doesn’t have to be a song, you can just play a few notes or whatever. Whatever comes to mind.”

Louis frowned at the keys for a moment, and then lifted his hands over them. He tried a few notes, and then shook his head, and played the same sequence in a lower register. Luka nodded slowly as the boy played, taking notes in a book he kept to one side.

“Good,” Luka said, when Louis started to fumble and scrunch his face in frustration. “Let’s stop there for now. Let me show you what I heard while you played.” Luka placed his hands over the keys, and played the theme he’d heard repeated in Louis’ experiments.

“Does that feel right?” Luka asked, playing it again.

“Yeah,” Louis said slowly. “I mean, yes, it does.” The tension in his body eased slightly.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Luka said. “It helps, to get it out, so you can feel more like this.” He shifted to a slightly different melody, lighter, more hopeful. “You see? The sadness is still there, but it’s not the whole piece anymore. Then you build from there…” He changed the piece again, crescendoing, adding flares of joy, and emphasizing the hope. “So that even if the sadness never goes away, it doesn’t lock up your heart. You’re more open to the good things that come along—or maybe the good things that were always there. It won’t be the same as it was before—“ he played a light, happy, uncomplicated melody.

“But nothing stays the same forever,” Louis grudgingly repeated.

“Exactly.” Luka took his hands from the keys. “I want you to keep working on your exercises at home, okay?” He stood from the piano and went over to a cabinet on the wall, digging through it for a moment and coming up with three CDs. He brought them back and handed them to the boy. “Listen to these, and when you come back, we’ll talk about which pieces speak to you. We’ll use that to plan our lessons. And any time you want to, we can do what we did today, and maybe help you work through some of those hard feelings. Okay?” He held out his hand for Louis to shake, and the young boy took it. Louis moved slowly, but his grip was firm, and Luka was satisfied. “And if you won’t resent some personal advice,” Luka added, “Don’t stop playing with your dad. It might feel sad now, but it’s okay for you to be sad together. Someday you’ll be able to play happy again, and you’ll want him to be there.”

Louis made a noncommittal noise.

Luka crouched again to meet his eyes. “Listen. I know I don’t need to lecture you about practice, and I can see that playing hurts you right now. I’m going to talk to your dad, and make sure that he and your mom know that you’re allowed to decide on your own practice time, okay? For now, just do what you feel you can do. If you sit down one day to practice and it just hurts too much, it’s okay to get up and walk away. Try again later if you can, but if you can’t, that’s okay too. Music has to come from your heart, and if your heart is hurting too much to make music, then it doesn’t matter how much you practice, you’ll just be making noise, not music. I trust you to be responsible and not blow off practice just for the hell of it, okay? You sit down at that bench every day and you do what you think you can manage. If you can’t make yourself do the exercises, just play like you did today, whatever comes into your mind. In the meantime I’ll write up that little tune you wrote and you can have a copy of it to take home next week.” He paused, and then said, “Let me ask you something, Louis. Do you want to love music again? Is this something that you’re willing to put in the work for?”

Tears sprang to the boy’s blue-green eyes. He didn’t seem able to answer, but Luka nodded anyway. “Okay. Then we’ll get there. A little bit at a time. There’s no deadline on this, Louis. Nobody gets to tell you how long it takes to feel better. You’ll get there when you’re ready, as long as you want to. And my job is to help you and support you while you get there.”

“Like a physical therapist after an accident?” Louis asked, and Luka’s eyebrows raised slightly at the astute comparison.

“Exactly,” Luka smiled. “All right, your dad should be here any minute. While we wait, you want me to show you one of those guitars you were looking at earlier?” Louis’ eyes brightened, and Luka grinned. “All right then.”

***

He’d been working with Louis for about a month when he met her. Normally, Adrien brought Louis to practice and picked him up personally, but for some business reason or other that Luka hadn’t really bothered to listen to, Louis’ mother was going to pick him up from practice.

They weren’t quite finished when Luka’s doorbell rang. He left Louis in the studio and went to answer it.

Luka opened the door and felt the breath leave his body like he’d been punched in the gut. The dark-haired, blue-eyed woman standing there in a crisp, well-fitted business suit smiled and his pulse pounded in his ears so loudly that he missed her greeting.

Shit, he needed to get it together. He took a deep breath and focused on what she was saying.

“I’m, um, I’m here to pick up my son?”

“You’re Louis’ mom?” he said stupidly.

She raised her eyebrows slightly and God, her eyes were so blue. “Yes, I’m Marinette Agreste.” She put out her hand.

“Right,” Luka rasped, and then cleared his throat as he shook her hand. “I’m Luka Couffaine, Louis’ teacher. Obviously.” He tore his eyes from hers in an effort to reboot his brain and in the process, looked down at their joined hands. A flash of color caught his eye. She had a small, brightly-colored ladybug tattooed on the heel of her hand, just below her thumb. He managed to pull himself together enough to let go of her hand and say, “Please, come in, we’re almost done. Um, I’m sorry to ask you this, but since we’ve never met can I check your ID please?”

She actually looked pleased rather than offended as she complied. The ladybug flashed at him again as she handed him the card. Cute.

“Great, thanks.” He handed her ID back to her with an apologetic smile. “Can’t be too careful. Studio’s back here, just follow me.”

As they approached the studio door, Luka slowed, listening. He held a hand up to stop Marinette, turning towards her for a moment to put a finger to his lips. Very quietly he opened the studio door.

Louis didn’t notice, absorbed in his playing. Luka felt a satisfied smile spread across his lips. The boy was finally playing with his whole heart.

He heard Marinette’s breath hitch at his side, and he glanced down at her. She had one hand over her mouth but he could see the way the smile beneath crinkled the corners of her eyes—eyes that shimmered as he watched. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, then slipped into the room, sliding next to Louis on the piano bench. He didn’t say anything and Louis only glanced at him and continued to play. For a moment, he listened and Louis played, and then Louis’ hands fumbled to a stop.

“That’s as far as I can go,” Louis said quietly. “I don’t know the rest yet.”

Luka held up his fist. “That was awesome. Pound it, little man.” Louis grinned, and met Luka’s fist with his own. Then to Luka’s surprise, Louis threw his arms around Luka’s waist and hugged him, something like a sob escaping him. “Hey, it’s okay,” Luka rubbed the boy’s back. “It feels good, right? To get it out. That’s what the music is for. Now you go home and cry if you need to, but remember what that felt like just now. That’s what you want, okay? That’s what makes it music and not just noise. It’s not about perfection, it’s about emotion and connection.” Louis nodded, face still hidden in Luka’s shirt. “I’m proud of you, kid. I know that was hard. And I think someone else is proud of you too.”

Louis lifted his head and Luka nodded toward Marinette, still standing frozen outside the door. Louis straightened, scrubbing at his face. “Maman, I—“

Marinette just held her arms out, a beaming smile on her face that made Luka’s heart seize up. Shit, what the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t even know this woman.

Louis went running into her arms. Marinette squeezed him tight, with no regard for the way he was surely wrinkling her suit. Luka couldn’t clearly hear whatever she whispered, but he could hear the love and pride in her voice. He smiled to himself. Louis might be having a rough time coming to terms with the divorce, but with both parents loving him as hard as they did, Luka wasn’t worried for him in the long term. He’d be just fine.

Then Marinette straightened and turned that blinding smile on him and he actually felt his IQ drop sharply.

“Thank you, M. Couffaine,” she said feelingly, and it took him half a breath longer than it should have to recognize his own name.

“Call me Luka, please.”

Pink touched her cheeks. “Luka. Thank you. I’m happy to see Louis finding his passion for music again. Adrien was right to say we should bring him to you before we gave up.”

Luka shrugged slightly and smiled. “It’s my job. And my pleasure. Louis is easy to teach. He knows his basics so well, we get to spend most of our time on the fun stuff.” He winked at the boy, who gave him a small smile back.

“Still. I was skeptical when Adrien wanted Louis to continue, and I can see now that he was right,” Marinette said, laying her hands lightly on Louis’ shoulders. “So thank you. I know I don’t need to tell you how much music means to him and his father, but—well. Thank you.”

“Mom,” Louis whispered, “You’re being weird.”

The pink in her cheeks darkened and Luka pressed his lips together to hide his amusement. “We should go,” Marinette said, nudging Louis. “It was nice meeting you, M—Luka.”

“It’s been my pleasure, ma’am,” he said, walking them to the door.

“Marinette is fine,” she said brightly, and if she’d been pretty before when she was composed and professional, she was stunning now that she was effervescing with happiness. Luka opened the door for them automatically, his brain temporarily offline. “Until next time!” she chirped as they left, and Luka watched them until they were back in their car and pulling away from the curb. He stepped back inside and closed the door carefully. He leaned his forehead on it and tried to calm his racing heart.

What the hell was that? He hadn’t been so instantly attracted to anybody in...a long time. A very long time.

Luka turned his back to the door and frowned. Surely, he’d met Adrien’s wife before. He’d been at the wedding, for crying out loud. Although, he hadn’t stayed long. Even the best weddings were awkward, and this one hadn’t been the best, huge and pretentious and full of stuffy people he’d had no interest in. He did vaguely remember meeting the bride and shaking hands with Adrien, but was only a few seconds. He remembered thinking she was beautiful but wasn’t every woman on their wedding day? He probably had barely looked her in the eye, now that he thought of it, eager to pay his respects and be gone, too lost in his own concerns to really be at ease in the stilted atmosphere, especially with Gabriel Agreste watching Adrien’s every move.

He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn’t matter. She was a client. He wouldn’t see her very often. He could keep a lid on this. They’d see each other only professionally and not very often, so it would be fine.

He would be fine.

***

“Luka, hey. I just wanted to check in on things since I wasn’t able to be there this week. It seemed like things are going well?”

“Yeah, I think Louis had a bit of a breakthrough this week. He’s letting his feelings back into his music.”

“I heard. You made an impression on Marinette. She was practically gushing when she dropped Louis off.”

“Oh. That was just...lucky timing, I guess. It wasn’t really me, it was Louis.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. That’s the first time she’s admitted I was right about something in years.”

#quickspins #beautiful dreams #buckle up buttercup here we go #angst with a happy ending #lots of fluff #single parent au #moving on #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #birthday big bang

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andyet-here-we-are · 5 years ago

Note

Jaskier, Yennefer, and Ciri find out Geralt has never had a birthday party so they go out of their way to have steamers and balloons and game night, all the while Geralt is just emotionally constipated because he doesn't know what the fuck is going on.

(Also can be read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22742986 )

"Keep him busy, and don't be here before the evening!" Jaskier says to Yennefer.

"How the hell am I supposed to keep him busy all day?!"

"You're a mage," the bard reasons and pushes her out of the door, "I'm sure you can find a way! Put a spell on him which will make him want to explore aaaall the pretty flowers and trees in nature till evening or something, I don't know! I know I'm the brain of this lovely team, and you all depend on me for every little thing, but even this extremely handsome and intelligent bard can't think of everything all the damn time!"

"... do you even hear yourself?" Yennefer rolls her eyes. "You're not the brain of this group. If anything, I'm not even sure if you have one."

"Rude. Oh wait a second, you didn't deny that I'm extremely-"

"Jaskier."

"Anyway! Less talk, more work. Out out out!"

***

Jaskier ends up making a birthday cake with Ciri. Okay okay, that's a lie, because it's more like Ciri just tells him to stay out of it, so he starts decorating the cottage while Ciri makes the cake –he nails it, thank you very much.- He gives her some ideas about the topping though, so he thinks he deserves some credit anyway.

Hours pass, and right when Jaskier thinks that Yennefer might have put his spell suggestion into practice–not that he is sure that it actually exists- they hear the sound of the key turning the lock, and he can’t help but swear. Because damn it, they were supposed to knock the door to give them some more time! But what they do instead? They step into the cottage like god damn savages.

Jaskier definitely doesn’t panic and nearly falls face-first on the ground while he runs to the basket which was filled with flowers, while Ciri manages to keep her chill.

“Happy birthday!” they cheer, and Geralt can’t fathom what is happening for a moment, even though it's pretty clear.

He is awestruck by the way the cottage is decorated: colorful streamers hanging everywhere, balloons covering the floor, various food dishes, and baked goods waiting for them on the table. Where did they even found streamers?

The Witcher doesn’t even know how to react.

It feels just so strange to him. All of it.

He is familiar with kikimoras, ghouls, basilisks and much more, he knows how to react when he sees one.

He knows what to do then.

But as he stands there while delicate flowers kept thrown over his head by the delicate hands of the most precious ones in his life, he just can’t react.

"What do you mean you never had a birthday party?!" he remembers Jaskier asking him nearly two months ago when he accidentally let it slip when his birthday was "...at all?" The bard’s face was coated in sadness.

"We don't have time for a birthday party. And it's irrelevant."

"Irrelevant, he says! YOU are irrelevant! We’re sooo gonna celebrate it!"

“Jaskier, no. We’re not going to do that.”

“Jaskier, yes! Just you wait, my dear Witcher.”

He had forgotten about it.

But apparently, Jaskier hadn’t.

Geralt isn’t the only one who is surprised. Because not only Jaskier and Ciri throw flowers over their heads while singing a Happy Birthday song, there is a banner that reads “Happy Birthday, Geralt and Yennefer!”

“It’s not even my birthday.” Yennefer states with a hard to read expression on her face. “I think I get it now.” She then looks at Ciri questioningly. “It was your idea, right?”

To her surprise, Ciri shakes her head and points the bard with her head.

“Let's just pretend it is!” Jaskier says. “I wasn't sure if you ever had a birthday party either, well, maybe you have, I don’t know. But!” he holds up his index finger, “ I’m sure it wasn’t anything as splendid as this since I wasn’t the one who-”

Ciri coughs, and Jaskier immediately corrects “We! I mean we, as in, me and my excellent, one and only dear assistant Ciri, weren’t the ones who organized that party. So I just thought... It seemed unfair that- not that I care or something, but-”

As much as is amusing to see the bard –who normally has his way with words- stumbling over his words- Yennefer prefers him to just shut his mouth at that moment.

So she does the only logical thing and gives him a very brief hug as a silent, but sincere thank you. She can swear that there’s the smallest hint of pink covering his cheeks afterward.

“I promise to you that your real, true-to-its- date birthday will be as good as this one. Happy birthday!” Jaskier says while Ciri is busy with giving Geralt a hug and wishing him a happy birthday.

As if he is saving hugging Geralt for later, Jaskier makes a beeline for his lute after telling them to have a seat. “Or don’t,” he adds “if you prefer to dance. Which I’m sure you will. So, I’ll start with the song I wrote for the confused mage over there.”

Jaskier’s song starts with “Once, lived a mage” which makes Yennefer frown.

"Once? Lived? I'm still here, you arsehole."

And includes lines such as:

"but don't make her upset!

Or else, you will, oooh, so regret

Yennefer of Vengerberg

is here with all the souls she has collected!"

“Only you could manage to warn people about not to make someone upset, and upset the said person the very next moment,” Yennefer rolls his eyes at the bard, who seems pretty proud of how his song turned out.

“What can I say? I'm a man of many talents.”

“Since when talking non-stop and giving people, hell, even monsters a headache count as a talent? For your information, I don't collect souls. What do you take me for? A demon?”

“Oh no honey, how can I? You’re worse than a demon. Demons are much easier to deal with. I’m sure that Geralt agrees with me. Right, Geralt?”

“I’d shut up if I were you, Jaskier.”

“Okay, maybe not so sure anymore. Yeah, of course you would shut up. That’s like, one of your personal traits. Not talking, as if someone made you take a vow of silence.”

“Hmm.”

“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“No song for me?” Geralt wonders.

"Well, I've written enough songs for you. I thought it was time for a little change."

"Hmm. Fair enough.”

Geralt nods like he was completely expecting that to happen, and even the idea of Geralt thinking Jaskier would stop writing songs about him eventually, breaks Jaskier's heart.

He set his lute aside, and walks behind his chair. "I could travel the whole world to find the gift you deserve, the perfect gift,” he says softly as he leans over the chair, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend.

“But what you deserve is the world we travel in, its better, flawless version where everything is beautiful, where minacious creatures that you have to deal with don't exist.”

Jaskier is almost sure that Geralt will tell him to shut up, but instead, what he does is putting one hand on his, and listening to him.

So he keeps talking: “A world where the sun always shines and warms upon your face every morning, where flowers never wilt, and moon always sings its sweet lullaby to you every night.

You say I am the crazy one, yet you must be crazy to think that I'd ever stop composing songs for you and sing them. Of course I wrote a song for you. But the thing is...”

The bard leans in even closer, and the rest is whispered in a tone oh so sweet that honey would be ashamed of letting people call it sweet.

“-it's only for your ears to hear. And my other, dare I say, gift is, only for your eyes to see. Anything you wish tonight, shall be yours. All yours. Happy birthday, my love."

Geralt can’t help but shiver ever so slightly.

“You know we can still hear you, right? There are children here.” Yennefer remarks a moment later –which Jaskier responds with: “Hush, jelly Witchy, you got your song!”

“I hope you're not referring to me. I'm not a child,” Ciri says with a little smirk. “Let my dads have their moment.”

“Yeah! Let her dads-”

Jaskier starts, but then almost chokes on his own spit in surprise once he realizes what Ciri had just said.

They all, even Geralt, laugh at his reaction.

Their evening goes absolutely perfectly; Jaskier plays his lute and sings the most lively, cheerful songs for them. Sometimes he sings them alone, sometimes Ciri sings along. And sometimes just Ciri sings as he strums his lute, making up notes and melodies on the spot.

They even play games, but then Jaskier gets on Yennefer’s nerves as usual while playing -she nearly starts a cake fight with him, fortunately, Ciri and Geralt prevent it- they eventually stop playing games.

Even though Geralt can’t say that he really understands why they care about his birthday that much –he just got one year older, so what? It’s not worth celebrating- he still appreciates everything they do.

***

“My sun already shines every morning. Actually... He even shines in the darkest nights.”

Geralt says after he covers Jaskier’s naked body with the blanket so he doesn’t get cold.

It has been a hot night, and also very sweet.

“And my little flower,” he whispers sweetly as he watches how Jaskier’s chest rises and falls with each breath he takes, running his fingers through his silky, and messy hair “he never wilts, no matter how harsh the winter is. No matter how mean and inconsiderate the stupid winter can be towards him sometimes.”

The peaceful expression on his bard’s face as he curls even closer into Geralt’s embrace makes the Witcher smile fondly.

“And my moon,” he buries his nose in his boyfriend’s hair, breathing in his very unique, familiar and heavenly scent “already sings sweet lullabies to me every day. ”

He then lets out a content sigh, and closes his eyes after brushing his lips against Jaskier’s sweet lips, stealing a soft kiss from them.

Not aware of the now blushing cheeks of his bard.

“Sleep tight, little hummingbird of mine. Thank you for everything."

#the witcher #jaskier #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #dandelion #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #my writing #the witcher fanfiction #stuff I tried to write #sorry for my super late reply again :(#and for my mistakes #since English is not my first language there are probably many of them #also that was supposed to be about mostly Geralt but I couldn't help myself and made them celebrate Yennefer's birthday as well #it just happened *.*

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kunderdogs · 5 years ago

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Monsta X / Curvy S/O Wearing A Body-Con Dress

So, I’m still big mad that I lost 800+ words of this reaction the first time around and I forgot wtf I put for them so let’s try this again ;-; S/O to the anon who requested this. Idk what kind of revealing dress you were thinking of so I went with this and other similar dresses.

I kinda snapped on Kihyun’s lmao got a lil carried away so it’s lengthy - sorry!

Remember this is just my opinion about how the boys would react and all in good fun.

Shownu: Heart eyes af. Proud boyfriend right here!! He’s quiet but that smile that lights up his face will not leave any time soon. Nunu’s got BDE (I can’t believe I typed this) so he’s going to show you off to the world. The type to take your IG pics for you and hit all the right angles. Gonna have you walk in front of him all night just so he can watch your hips swing from walking in heels. He’s comfortable in your relationship so he’s indifferent to the stares you get since you’re on his arm. Also, he’s not one to feel like he owns you in anyway so he’s not going to tell you to change. Definitely an ass/hips man so expect his big hands gripping you or pulling you into him. He’s going to want to dance the entire time you’re out, mainly so he can have your body grind against his. Totally fine with people looking, but talking to you is a different story and will 100% stand behind you, glaring at whoever had the balls to try to speak to you. Other than that, he’s extremely touchy when you dress up like this so expect a lot of affection, even if you’re in public because “Who told you to be so damn sexy?”

Wonho: Immediately groaning and complaining about how hot you look. “Whyyyyyy are you so hot? Let’s stay home baby~ Please?” 11/10 going to try and convince you to stay in tonight. Will whine and follow you around as you finish getting ready. Clingy AF!! Like more so than usual too (which is hard to do but this is Hoseok we’re talking about here). Big baby boy mood comes out and he’s whining about how he can’t possibly focus on the dinner reservations with you looking like that. Once you manage to drag him out, he’s going to keep touching you - hips, waist, arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding your hands. When you’re sitting, you can bet your left foot that his hands are gripping your thighs, unintentionally teasing you but when you touch him back - ohhhh boy. He’s giving you puppy eyes now and whispering in your ear, “Can we leave now? I’ve done what you ask, I think I deserve a reward.”

Minhyuk: Sunshine has left the building. Wide eyes, jaw dropped when he got to your place and you walked down the stairs like it was your own personal runway. Pride is filling up his chest as well as admiration. He loves you for you but your body was definitely a plus and he worshiped the ground you walked on but he wasn’t sure if he could handle you looking that sexy all night. In about two seconds, he comes to the conclusion that no, his heart cannot handle that stress and tells you to take your fine ass back upstairs and put on something with more cloth. “I can’t- Nope, I’m not gonna be hurting like this and not be able to touch you. You’ve got to change, for my mental sanity.” Compliments you and the dress but lets you know he won’t be able to focus on anything if your dress is that tight/short on you. Grips his heart dramatically as you walk back up the stairs “Gah damn, why must you hurt me like this baby?” Realizes you’re going to change and then runs up after you cause as much as he likes the dress on you, he will not miss the opportunity to see it come off ;) As much as you try to keep his hands off you while undressing, it doesn’t work and now you’re the last ones to the venue, cheeks flushed and lips swollen with the maknaes giggling as you fix your hair.

(oof this gif is powerful)

Kihyun: Yeah hell no. He’s buttoning up the cuffs of his suit as he walks in the bathroom and sees you all dressed up, putting on your jewelry. The way the diamonds he bought you on your third anniversary sat delicately on your chest made his mouth dry. Totally forgets what he had to ask you so he takes in the view as you lean over the counter top to put in your earrings. His eyes are dark and narrowed, head tilting to the side while his face is unreadable. When you’re done, you twirl around to ask his opinion but he’ll step towards you just like a predator would its prey. “Change.” and that’s all he’ll say, unblinking, looking you up and down. “Ki, I bought this dress for this award show. Do you not like it?” Honestly, he liked it way too much and that mean other people would like it too and nope he was having none of that shit on his watch. If you really refused to change, he’ll say some hurtful things, he’s got a sharp tongue and doesn’t realize the shit he says sounds bad until later on. “Who are you dressing up for cause it sure as hell doesn’t look like it’s for me.” You’ll have to ignore him because he’s just being petty but if you give in and say “I dress up for my damn self!” or anything sassy, his dom side will not allow it. He’ll probably try to start a fight just to stay home but it’s because he’s a bit insecure since you look so good, someone better looking or more talented was bound to catch your attention. In his mind, there was no way you could be this perfect and be with him. Will be fuming the entire award show, tense hand holding, jaw tight and lot of eyebrow raises instead of answering your comments or questions (angry KiKi sounds so hot) Later in the night he’ll realize he’s being a dick and apologize but he’ll sulk until you give him kisses and forgive him.

Hyungwon: At first, he’s just smirking like a cocky little shit. Rubbing his chin and biting his lip. He’ll make you walk back and forth just to stare at your ass. “Oh, you’re fine fine. Okay.” He’s going to vocally compliment you up and down. Licking his lips, rubbing his hands together (very fuckboy-esque) but my boy is seeing only hearts okay, he’s smitten! In my personal experience, skinny/lanky guys are the ones who looove thick/curvy girls the most and he’s no different. Doesn’t know what to do with himself except make comments while he’s following you around the house. “Baby, if you keep looking like a damn snack, I’ll have no choice but you eat like one.” And you’re like, “Damn it, stop being so horny, we’re going to your CEO’s birthday dinner.” Once he remembers that you’re indeed going out dressed like that, he switches very quickly. Silently, he’ll grab one of his big jackets and toss it at you, telling you to put it on otherwise he’ll go crazy all night if he has to see other guys staring at your ass. You do so, hiding your smirk when you think back to that one time Minhyuk had openly stared at you when you wore really tight jeans because Hyungwon almost lost his shit and it was kind of funny to see him so riled up. Very, very possessive and if you don’t pay him much attention that night, his attitude will jump out and he’ll definitely be rough with you later on - hands gripping your waist to get your attention, face grabbing to make you look at him in the eye. we love a confident zaddy whoops Will not let you out of his sight. You won’t even get 5 feet away from him without him following closely behind you & his eyes would stay mostly on how your hips swing back and forth. He does not last long so he’ll drag you to an empty room or even restroom so you can help him out.

(we need to talk more about flully/curly haired Hyungwon ok we were so so blessed)

Jooheon: Once he sees what you’re wearing to the company New Years party, it’s a mOTHAFUCKIN WRAP. He’s going to appreciate your figure with narrowed eyes and a smirk. He knows you got a nice body but didn’t know you had a dress that tight in your closet and wonders why you haven’t whipped that out for him sooner. Thinks you’re dressing up for him so he sees it as his own little present. Definitely going to suggest staying home and nearly has you wrapped around his waist, back smashed against the door to your apartment when he hears his phone ringing in his pocket. You break the kiss but he’s unbothered and attacks your neck with biting kisses as you try to get in his pocket. “Ooh are we skipping the foreplay tonight?” and you roll your eyes like “Boy, do you not hear your phone? We have to go to the dinner, honey.” He groans into your neck, pressing your body into the wood again. “Ignore it. I’m tryna have my dessert right now.” Somehow, you managed to get him to the party but he’s going to give you bedroom eyes the entire time you’re out. Outwardly, he can compose himself to not act as horny as he was feeling so his touches will linger but they’ll be appropriate. If someone was flirting with you though, he will definitely put his hand on the small of your back, basically your ass. “Let’s go home, baby.”

I.M: “Babe have you seen my -...Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” My fav switch will enter dom mode pretty quickly upon seeing his s/o in such a tight, figure hugging dress. He’s a fan (a very big fan) of curves and ass in general. You don’t normally wear things like this, choosing leggings or hoddies over anything else. Changkyun would be biting his lip, watching you finish putting stuff in your hand bag and checking your makeup in the mirror but as you tell him, it was your friends bday and she wanted to go club hopping, he’s gonna go in the closet and get ready himself. When you ask wtf he’s doing since it’s technically a girls night, he’ll dead ass just stare at you blankly and say, “If you think I’m gonna let you out of my sight, looking like the goddess you are,” he pulled his button up on, snapping the buttons in place, “You’re dead wrong, love.” Yeah he’s just a bit possessive. Will hang on you all night, most the time is spent in his lap though and his tongue just can’t seem to stay in his mouth. It’s licking your neck, biting his own lips, licking them too. By the middle of the night, he’s tired of not having you beneath him so when you grind on him a little too good, he’s standing up and telling your friends good night, dragging you behind him and out the door.

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unpack-my-heart · 5 years ago

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Acute-y

A Reddie High School Math Teachers AU

Written as a gift for the insanely lovely @constantreaderfool <3

@xandertheundead @tinyarmedtrex @eds-trashmouth @mrs-vh @violetreddie

Read on AO3 HERE

“I dunno, Sir. I’m supposed to be putting in my college applications in a few days, and I still can’t decide what to pick as my major”

“What are you choosing between?”

“Math and biology. I’m better at math, and I don’t enjoy biology that much, but I can’t think of a decent reason to put down as to why I want to study math. What did you put when you applied to college?”

Eddie sat back in his chair, face scrunched in thought.

“You know when you’re in the middle of a really hard proof, and you don’t know where you’re going, you have no idea where to start and the whole thing just feels like a waste of time?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“That’s like being in a kayak in the middle of the ocean. You’re there, you’ve got all the tools you need to get you to shore, you’ve got your oars and everything, but you don’t have a map. You don’t know which way to go. But, when you figure out which way you are supposed to go, that feeling when you haul yourself onto shore with aching arms, that feeling when you know you’ve done it, that’s why math is amazing”

“Aching arms?”

“It’s a metaphor, Jasper. Just – look. I’m not naturally good at math. I always had to work a bit harder than my peers, who just seemed to … get it instantly. I definitely cried over integration more often than I’d admit to anyone else but you. But I think that’s why I love it so much. My childhood wasn’t … let’s say, my childhood wasn’t very rational. I craved structure, order, precision, any other synonyms that mean the same thing. I craved rationality and math gave that to me. To be able to break everything down, to get absorbed into the minutia of the universe, it’s addictive. It’s breath-taking, and it eases my soul”

Jasper is staring at Eddie with wide eyes, mouth hanging open slightly, and Eddie internally facepalms, cursing himself for spooking the teenager sat opposite him, but then Jasper smiles.

“Thanks, Sir. That – that’s really helpful. Thank you”

“Anytime,” Eddie says, sending Jasper off with a wave and a smile.

Standing up, Eddie stretches his arms towards the ceiling, prompting his back to crunch loudly in three places. His classroom is a mess. Pieces of paper lie strewn all over the floor, rogue pencils and forgotten textbooks littering the desks. Eddie’s school is small, and tragically underfunded, and despite only being a permanent member of staff for a year, Eddie already feels fiercely protective over it. The school is a downtown public school, and his kids mostly come from the impoverished neighbourhoods on the outskirts of the city. Almost all of them have long, boring commutes into school, and almost always slouch into his morning classes tired and starving from never having eaten breakfast, so Eddie has become the teacher that arrives to his classes with pep in his step and a box of granola bars lodged firmly under his arm.

Eddie got the job at Southview High School six days after he’d graduated from his teaching qualification. He’d applied to thirty schools, mostly disadvantaged public schools, and three private schools at the insistence of his mother. He’d been offered interviews for all of them, but he’d only attended one. As soon as he’d walked into the interview room, and shook hands with the head of department, a fiery woman called Dr. Marsh, he knew he was home. Dr. Marsh was firm, and the interview had lasted nearly two hours, and by the time she’d put him through his paces, Eddie felt like his brain was on fire.

He was sure that he’d failed the interview, but after thirty seconds of silence, Dr. Marsh stood up, stuck out her hand, and said, “Can you be here tomorrow at half seven? You’ll be taking the AP students, I’m taking their classes at the moment but I can’t commit as much time to them as they need. God knows they need someone like you”

Eddie had jumped up and down on the spot, before composing himself and accepting the position.

“Oh, and Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“Call me Bev”

The first few weeks had been pretty rough. The kids, predictably, had put Eddie through the ringer, testing boundaries and acting out as teenagers are wont to do. It took a while, but eventually Eddie, to use Bev’s phrase, ‘grew some bollocks’, and started commanding more respect in the classroom. He achieved this, not through sending kids out of the classroom or handing out detentions like candy, but by just through the simple act of listening. The kids, Eddie was quick to realise, just wanted someone to validate, not dismiss, their teenage angst, and Eddie was more than happy to be their crutch.

Fast forward a year, and Eddie’s classroom has become more of a home to him than his actual home. It’s pretty large, and Eddie begged Bev to let him implement flexible seating, so his kids are sat on large tables that look more like picnic benches than desks, in order to encourage collaborative work. One thing that Eddie has come to realise, however, is that his class is full of genuinely talented mathematicians. When he hands back test results, it’s always the same ten students getting in the high nineties, which, gives him an idea.

He attaches a note to the most recent test paper of these ten students,

Can you stay behind after class? I need to ask you something!

[you’re not in trouble please don’t panic]

Needless to say, the kids panic.

“Sir? Am I in trouble? I swear I’ve handed in all the homework this term!”

“Mr Kaspbrak I’m really sorry, I didn’t realise I’d accidentally stolen the protector until I got home, I brought it back, though, honest!”

“Sir, what’s this about?”

“Guys! No, you’re not in trouble, but thanks for bringing the protractor back, Kim. No, I have a proposition for you. Have you ever heard of mathletics?”

The kids all shake their heads.

“Well, lemme explain …”

– X –

It takes several weeks for Eddie to recruit all of the students he cherrypicked as his dream mathletes team, but he manages it, with the promise of extra credit and no homework on heat weeks. Whilst he was a mathlete himself during his college years, Eddie hasn’t ever actually coached a team before, so he spends hours every evening reading every internet article and borrowing every book from the library he can possibly find on how to coach a mathletics team. Eventually, when he thinks his students are ready, and he manages to get them all to agree, Eddie registers them for a practice heat against a local school in their city.

Eddie and his motley crew of baby mathletes meet every Thursday and Friday after school to practice, and before they knew it, the morning of the heat was upon them. The heat was being held in the auditorium of the opposing school, so Eddie had to borrow the rusty old school bus to schlep his kids across the city. Bev, who had given Eddie an ecstatic “YES!” when he had asked for her permission to take the kids to a mathletics heat in school time, had announced the night before that she wanted to go with him. He had said yes, sort of hoping that she’d offer to drive the death-trap bus, but she’d climbed into the front passenger seat. Eddie prayed to the driving gods that they’d keep the roads clear and keep the wheels attached to the bus before he climbed in, and they set off to Faraday Technical School.

Thankfully, the journey goes smoothly. The kids chatter quietly in the back, and Bev manages to distract Eddie’s nervous stomach by discussing budget plans, and whether he thought that Iron Man would be better than her at differentiation. Eddie answered honestly that he didn’t think he would be. Soon enough, they pull into the gates of Faraday Technical School, and Bev hops out of the bus to speak to the guard on the gate. Eddie gulps. Their school doesn’t have a guard. Their school doesn’t even have gates. They just have an old caretaker called Jim who loves the kids and polishes the floor with his radio on full blast. The guard nods at Bev, and then nods over at Eddie, and then the gates swing open as if by magic, and Eddie drives through. The school looms ahead of them, and Eddie’s students all go silent. By the time Eddie has parked up, Bev has walked over to them, and she hauls the door of the bus open.

The kids don’t move.

“Dr. Marsh, I don’t think I can do this”

“Yeah I’ve … I’ve got a headache”

“Sir, we’re going to lose”

Bev claps her hands, “Hey! You can do anything these kids can do. Yeah, they go to a fancy school, but you’ve got Mr K and me on your side. You’ve worked so hard for this, don’t let the fact that this school has a pool spook you”

“They have a POOL?!”

“Why don’t we have a pool!”

“Because I want to be able to afford the latest textbooks for you, that’s why” Bev says, grinning.

After several minutes of animated encouragement from both Bev and Eddie, the kids finally filter out of the bus. They stand around looking ever the lost lambs, and Eddie’s heart bleeds for them. He knows exactly what it feels like. Imposter syndrome, feeling like you’re a fraud, like you don’t belong. Like you don’t deserve success.

Eddie and Bev herd the kids into the school, and they find the auditorium. The opponents are already on the stage, closely huddled together, with an older looking teacher with a shock of white hair and a pinched face standing in the centre of the huddle. The teacher was waving his hands wildly and speaking so loudly that Eddie could hear him at the other end of the hall.

“WHO ARE WE?”

“FARADAY TECHNICAL SCHOOL!”

“WHAT DO WE DO?”

“WIN!”

“WHEN DO WE WIN?”

“ALWAYS!”

“That’s a rubbish chant” Bev stage whispers, and their kids laugh nervously.

Eddie takes a deep breath in, squared his shoulder, sets his jaw, and strides purposefully over. He taps the teacher on the shoulder and clears his throat.

“Um, excuse me?”

“Ah, you must be Mr Kaspbrak, we spoke on the phone”

Eddie takes and shakes the extended hand.

“Yes! That’s me. You must be Mr Tozier?”

“Oh, no, no. I’m Mr Powell, the principal of Faraday Technical. Mr Tozier is sorting out the IT, you should liaise with him”

“Oh, okay. Where can I find him?”

A hand lands on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezes, and Eddie turns around. Stood behind him, and smiling at Eddie with a wolfish grin, is a man who can’t be any older than Eddie, perhaps a year at most. He’s wearing a very loud pink Hawaiian shirt, grey dickies and scuffed suede Chelsea boots, with round red glasses balanced on his nose. By all rights, he should look ridiculous. But he doesn’t. Not even close.

“Howzzit, fellow teach?” Mr Tozier says, voice crackly like autumn leaves.

“Uh…” Eddie replies, dumbly.

“I stalked your Linkedin, you know. MIT grad? Top of your class?” Mr Tozier whistles, impressed. “How’d you end up teaching sprogs if you’re some kind of hypergenius?”

“My Linkedin?”

“Yup! Wanted to check you out before you got here, see what I’d be up against. Gotta be honest, Eddie Spaghetti, you got me shaking in my boots”

Ridiculously, he starts shaking his legs, a pretence at fear that makes Eddie snort, despite his attempts not to encourage Mr Tozier’s ridiculousness.

“Eddie Spaghetti? Seriously?”

“Too informal? Would you prefer Mr Spaghetti?”

“I’d prefer Mr Kaspbrak, thank you,” Eddie says, somewhat prissily, but Mr Tozier doesn’t seem to mind, a lopsided grin still plastered on his face.

“So, Mr Tozier, how does this work?”

“Mathletics virgin, are we?” Mr Tozier says, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Not entirely. I was a mathlete myself when I was at MIT but I’ve never coached a team through a competition before”

“Aw, no shit? I was a mathlete at CalTech. What year were you on the circuit?”

“2006, you?”

“…2006. I fuckin’ KNEW you looked familiar!” Mr Tozier practically shouts, pointing a finger in Eddie’s face accusatorily.

“Do you think we competed against each other?”

Mr Tozier shrugs his shoulders, “’Prolly, your face … well, it looked familiar as soon as I stalked your LinkedIn. I’m like an elephant, I never forget cute faces”

Eddie splutters a bit, before raising an eyebrow challengingly, “well, if we did compete against each other, I wiped the floor with you. I never lost a heat. Eddie the dominator, they called me”

“Dominator, eh? We’ll see about that,” Mr Tozier says with a wink, before striding off towards his team.

“Wait!”

Richie turns around, “what’s up, Mr Spaghetti?”

“Enough with the spaghetti! I don’t think it’s fair that you know my first name and I don’t know yours”

“Richie, Richard if you’re angry with me”

“Got it, see you later, Richard”

Richie laughs, high, bright and scratchy.

“May the best team win, Mr Spaghetti”

Eddie rolls his eyes dramatically, but he can no longer suppress the smile that’s been tugging at his lips.

– X –

Eddie’s team wins the heat. As soon as the winners are announced, he bursts into tears. Happy tears, of course. His kids laugh at him mercilessly, calling him soppy and ridiculous, but they all have megawatt beams plastered on their faces. They only win by three points, 103 to 106, but the other team were smart, and there were various points in the heat that Eddie was trying to work out how to console his team when they inevitably lost. Bev picks Eddie up by the waist, and squeezes him so hard he makes this involuntary squeaky ‘oof’ noise, causing the kids to laugh at him even more.

When they’re piling the students back into the bus, with the promise of candy at the next mathletics meeting, one of the kids from Faraday Technical School runs up to Eddie clutching a folded piece of paper.

“Mr Tozier asked me to give this to you,” the kid says, out of breath and puffing.

Eddie tilts his head, “Uh, thank-you?”

The kid thrusts the piece of paper into Eddie’s hand, before running off again. Eddie opens the paper,

I’ve decided I don’t really like math. The only number I care about now is yours

Eddie looks up from the paper, face burning, and immediately locks eyes with Richie, who was standing in the window of the auditorium. Eddie waves at him, a weird jerky little motion. Richie grins, and winks at him. Eddie laughs, before shaking his head and climbing back into the bus.

Later, when Eddie’s at home grading problem sheets, he absent-mindedly checks his email, and sees that he has a notification from Linkedin.

Richard Tozier would like to add you as a connection!

Eddie accepts without much thought, and goes back to grading. Several minutes later, though, his computer pings again, this time with a message

Richard Tozier has sent you a message!

Richard: Fancy seeing you here

Edward: This … is an online message? You can’t see me?

Richard: You pedant

Edward: :-)

Richard: oh my god even your emojis are cute

Edward: :-(

Richard: Why are you sad!

Edward: did you want something or are you just trying to distract me from marking?

Richard: Both?

Edward: Not acceptable. I have to mark 34 more problem sheets and then plan a lesson tomorrow on trig identities

Richard: :-(

Edward: Now you’re just mocking me

Richard: I meant what I said, you know

Edward: … About?

Richard: Not liking math anymore

Edward: Get some better pick-up lines

Richard: You were charmed by it, don’t lie to me. I saw your face when you read that note.

Edward: No comment

Richard: :-)

It took more strength than Eddie would ever admit under oath to pull himself away from his computer, but he managed. Shutting his laptop lid with a click, he managed to lose himself in the problem sheets for several hours, before his eyes start getting heavy and he calls it a night. Before he goes to sleep, he impulsively checks his LinkedIn messages,

Richard: Are you the square root of 2? Because I feel irrational when I’m around you

Edward: You’re a nerd

Richard: ;-)

– X –

After their triumphant win at the practice mathletics heat, Eddie starts entering his kids for more and more practice heats, and even organises a few himself that they hold at their school. The confidence of his students blooms like blossom trees, and Eddie couldn’t be more proud if one of them had won the Fields medal. He’s still messaging Richie on LinkedIn. Like clockwork, Richie sends him a pick-up line at night, and Eddie always responds by calling him a nerd. It’s their thing now, and Eddie is punched in the stomach by the realisation that, if Richie stopped messaging him, he’d be devastated.

The thing that was frustrating Eddie the most, however, was the fact that their conversations had not moved off of LinkedIn. They hadn’t even added each other on Facebook, or followed each other on twitter, even though Eddie had managed to find Richie’s accounts on both sites. His mouse had hovered over the ‘add as friend’ and ‘follow’ buttons more times than he’d care to admit, but he could never quite bring himself to click. Eventually, the frustration builds up to a crescendo, and so, with his heart hammering in his chest, Eddie sends Richie a message.

Edward: Hey Rich, was wondering if you’d want a mathletics re-match? I wanna show off how good my kids have got

Edward: No pressure, of course

Richard: Name a time and a place, Mr Spaghetti

Eddie decides to throw the heat at his school, and he spends several days co-ordinating with Bev about where they should hold the heat, and then sweet talking the music teacher into agreeing to do the PA. Try as he might, Eddie can’t ignore the nerves gnawing at his stomach. he doesn’t really understand why he’s nervous because it’s not like Richie returns this pathetic school-yard crush Eddie has been harbouring since the first practice heat. Eddie rationalises it by assuming that Richie is just a naturally flirtatious person. It doesn’t work, though, and the nerves transform into butterflies.

The morning of the heat arrives. Eddie’s classroom overlooks the small parking lot, and he catches himself periodically staring out of the room, waiting for Richie’s bus to arrive. When the Faraday Technical School bus does arrive, Eddie is in the middle of explaining a particularly tricky vector problem. Eddie stares at Richie who is holding the bus door open, saluting each kid that hops out. By chance, Richie looks up, and sees Eddie staring at him from his classroom, and Richie winks at him again, causing Eddie to splutter. The student who is currently working out a problem on the board sends him an odd look.

“… so once you’ve found the dot product, you can find the angle between the two vectors,” Eddie continues, trying to regain composure.

“Uhhh Sir, the angle is acute”

“Yes, I know. You just worked that out on the board for us”

“Your answer is 116 degrees”

“…Shit”

“Sir! You swore!”

“Oh, Faraday are here, is that why you’re nervous?”

“… Yes. That is exactly why. The competition. Yes. Of course!”

The bell rings soon after, and Eddie scrambles down the hall to the cafeteria, that they’ve repurposed as a makeshift auditorium. His kids are already there, bickering between themselves about who will go first for the mental arithmetic round.

“Siiiiiiir! Jenny lost my calculator! I don’t have another one for the calculator round!”

“for fucks sake – Okay Kim! That’s fine. I’ll go and fetch you one,” Eddie says, and he sprints to the math supply cupboard at the other end of the school to get a spare one.

He darts into the cupboard, grabs a calculator, opens the door again and promptly screams because directly outside the door, leaning on the opposite wall, is Richie. Richie laughs at him, a proper belly-laugh, and clutches his stomach as he doubles over. Eddie huffs at him, and starts walking back towards the school hall, comically slow, allowing Richie to catch up with him

“Hey, Mr Spaghetti,” Richie says, breezily, walking sideways like a crab so he’s facing Eddie.

“Hello, you pest”

“You ready to get your ass handed to you?”

“I wouldn’t be so cocky, dude. My kids have been working super hard since the last meet, plus … we thrashed you last time so … it’s you that’s gotta be scared,” Eddie counters, poking his tongue out at Richie, childishly.

“You won by three points”

“We still won”

Richie leaps in front of Eddie, blocking his way, before standing up on his tip-toes and clasping his hands together, “care to make this interesting?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“Are you a betting man, Mr Spaghetti?”

“Is it ethical to bet on our students?”

“Ethical Schmethical. We won’t be exchanging money if that’s what you’re worried about,” Richie says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

He’s wearing different glasses frames this time. They’re blue, and they match his eyes.

Eddie shakes his head, distracted.

“… Go on”

“If my kids win, you gotta let me take you out”

“Hmm…,” Eddie muses, in mock consideration, “what if my kids win?”

“You gotta take ME out!” Richie says, eyes sparkling.

“But… that works out the same”

“Oh, so it does! What a clever little spaghetti you are”

“You gotta quit it with the spaghetti stuff!” Eddie scolds, but Richie just laughs at him.

“You gonna put me in detention?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “obviously not”

“What a shame. So, Eds, do you agree to our little wager?”

They’re nearly back at the hall now, and Eddie can hear Bev’s voice filtering through the PA system, instructing everyone to take their seats.

Eddie holds his hand out for Richie to shake, “deal”.

Richie takes his hand, but instead of shaking it, he presses a sloppy kiss to the back of Eddie’s hand.

“You must be an asymptote, because I just find myself getting closer and closer to you,” Richie whispers into Eddie’s ear, and before Eddie can call him a nerd, he’s gone.

– X –

Eddie’s kids lose the heat. They lose quite badly, actually, as Richie’s kids function like a well-oiled machine, and Eddie’s kids freeze when a particularly tricky integration stumps them. Eddie feels awful, especially because this was the first time they’d lost by a significant margin. His kids surprise him though, and they all shake the winners hands, looking upset but not angry. Eddie’s heart threatens to leap out of his chest, each beat a cacophony of proud, proud, proud.

Eddie also shakes the hands of all the kids, congratulating them on their speedy mental arithmetic and their teamwork. Bev yells something to him about the PA system not turning off properly, and Eddie turns his head to tell her that he’ll be there in a minute, but then another hand is in his. It’s larger and rougher than the others, and Eddie turns his head and, of course, it’s Richie.

“Well done, Mr Kaspbrak. You guys put up a good fight,” Richie says, no longer shaking Eddie’s hand, just holding it.

“Thanks, Mr Tozier. Your kids are quite impressive”

“Heh. They’re good eggs, all right. I’m proud of ‘em”

One of Richie’s kids screeched loudly for Mr To-zi-eeeeerrrhhh!!, and Richie’s head snapped backwards, before he turned back to look at Eddie, rolling his eyes, “they may be smart, but my God they’re demanding little sprogs”

Richie gives Eddie’s hand one last squeeze, before striding off towards the back of the hall, collecting his kids, and disappearing through the door.

Eddie looks down at his hand, and sees a tiny piece of paper folded up nestled in the center of his palm. It had a phone number scrawled on it in teeny tiny chicken-scratch scrawl, along with the words your new favourite number.

Eddie saves the number in his phone under ‘you nerd’, with a rolling-eyes emoji next to it.

– X –

To: You Nerd:

Very sneaky.

From: You Nerd:

Whatever do you mean?

To: You Nerd:

You know exactly what I mean.

Richie doesn’t respond immediately, and Eddie’s hands begin to itch.

To: You Nerd:

So where are you taking me?

From: You Nerd:

Ah-hah! A certain Mr Spaghetti hasn’t forgotten our wager

To: You Nerd:

Of course I haven’t

From: You Nerd:

Well, I’ve got a very exciting evening planned, but it’s a surprise so I can’t tell you. Are you free on Friday? Say, 6pm?

To: You Nerd:

Yeah, I can do Friday. Can you at least tell me what the dress code is, though?

From: You Nerd:

It doesn’t matter what you wear, you won’t be wearing it for long

To: You Nerd:

I’m not gonna put out you know

From: You Nerd:

I never insinuated such a thing

To: You Nerd:

… but you said I wouldn’t be wearing my clothes for long?

From: You Nerd:

just wait and see, Eds, just wait and see

Eddie doesn’t text back after that, getting lost in marking test papers. When he’s lying on his couch later that evening, knocking back a large glass of red wine, a thought suddenly pops into his booze-hazy brain … that fact that he just might have a picture of college-age Richie Tozier lurking in his scrapbook from his mathlete’s days. Eddie balances a chair in front of his wardrobe, and manages to pull the scrapbook off of the top using the pad of his index finger, sending it clattering to the floor. He flips through his college scrapbook, looking for the pictures of the mathletics heats he’d competed in, and he finds the one he’s looking for almost instantly. He’s standing there, holding the trophy, a stupidly big grin on his face (and those damn braces!) but in the corner, Eddie spots him. Richie. Richie’s standing in the corner of the shot, staring at Eddie with what look like, if Eddie didn’t know better, a sort of lovestruck expression on his face. Eddie grabs his phone and takes a picture of the photo, and sends it to Richie with the caption, you’re such a nerd.

Richie texts back almost instantly.

From: You Nerd:

I can’t wait to take you out Eds

Eddie’s sort of stunned by Richie’s reply. He’d expected Richie to make a joke about his braces, or the ridiculous sweater he was wearing, or even some corny pick up line. Not … this. After twenty minutes of fighting with himself, Eddie eventually sends, I’m excited, too.

– X –

The rest of the week flies by in a blur of standardised testing, broken protractors and departmental meetings. By the time Friday rolled around, Eddie was exhausted. He’d woken up and spilt his coffee all over his crisp, white suit trousers, and then his car wouldn’t start so he’d popped the hood, and oil had spurted all over his sweater. One quick change later, and he’d finally made it to school. Only then, much to his chagrin, and after bumping into several tiny Dracula’s in the hallway, he remembered. It was Halloween. The worst teaching day of the year. By the end of the school day, the oppressive smell of fake blood had turned Eddie’s stomach, and if he never had to look at someone wearing Frankenstein’s monster bolts in their neck again, it’d be too soon.

Richie had text him earlier in the day with a house address, and when Eddie had sent back pensive looking emojis Richie had reassured him that, whilst that was his home address, he did actually have plans to take Eddie out, and it certainly wasn’t a Netflix and chill kind of situation.

Eddie drives to Richie’s house, parks up outside. Eddie is surprised to find that Richie lives in a very nice suburban neighbourhood, like something from a storybook. White picket fences, jack-o-lanterns, ghosts hanging from trees, the whole deal. Just when Eddie had worked up the courage to get out of the car and knock on Richie’s door, it swung open and Richie marched out. He was dressed as a ghost, draped in a huge sheet, which had two comically small, wonky eyeholes cut out of it.

“We’re going trick or treating!” Richie yells, and whilst his face is obscured by the sheet, and the eye holes are far too small for Eddie to see his face, he can just tell that Richie is looking very pleased with himself.

“Aren’t we a bit old for trick or treating?” Eddie asks, sceptical. He walks up to Richie, who bounds back inside his house. Eddie follows him.

“This isn’t all my house, it’s two apartments. I live on the first floor,” Richie explains as he walks up the stairs, beckoning Eddie to follow him.

“I thought you said we were going out?”

“We are! I just need to check on the child”

“… The child? You have a kid?”

“Me? Naw. She’s not mine. I borrowed her”

“… You borrowed a child?”

“Yup”

“… is that legal?”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure an uncle can take his niece trick or treating without informing the authorities, you silly spaghetti,” Richie laughs, pushing the door open.

Richie’s apartment is small, but cosy. It’s fairly messy, books scattered on every available surface, posters littering the walls, five mugs of half-forgotten coffee on the coffee table. Eddie is surprised by how similar Richie’s apartment looked to his own house.

Whilst Eddie is browsing Richie’s expansive book collection, a small child bursts through into the living space. She can’t be more than six or seven years old, but Eddie still screams.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Uncle Rich! That man said a bad word!”

“Oh hush, you demon. Your father says worse when he sings you lullabies at night. But… Jessica you look … really quite horrifying”

“Thanks!” Jessica beams. She’s dressed in a grubby clown costume, complete with Jacobean ruff and breeches. Her face is painted white, with red lines that look like deep welts running from her eyes down to her mouth, and her hair is obscured with a violently orange wig. In short, she looked uncannily like the sort of clown that appears to Eddie in his sleep paralysis nightmares.

“Did – did you choose her costume?” Eddie asks, looking at Richie with wide, terrified eyes.

“No… she chose it herself, I would have dressed her up as a bee or something not,” Richie gestures helplessly to his niece, who is making scary faces at herself in the reflection of the coffee table, “this”

The oven dings, and Richie pulls out a plate of roasted vegetables and sausages that look suspiciously like the morning star ones Eddie eats on a Saturday morning.

“Is she veggie?”

“Naw, but I am. I refuse to cook her dead carcasses as much as the little carnivore might beg me,” Richie says, ruffling Jessica’s hair, who is sat on the kitchen counter, shovelling food into her face at lightning speeds. “I told her she couldn’t have any candy unless she ate some real food first. Plus, while she’s distracted, I can show you your costume!”

“My … my costume?” Eddie asks faintly.

Richie nods vigorously, and skips into his bedroom, before emerging clutching a small package wrapped in paper decorated with pumpkins and cats wearing witches hats.

“It’s not my birthday, Rich”

“Yeah, but I don’t know when your birthday is, so I wanted to have all bases covered in case it happened to be today”

“… you’re cute,” Eddie says, before ripping the paper off the package, and revealing a Jack Skellington costume.

“Are you serious?!”

“As a heart attack,” Richie says, solemnly.

“Why aren’t you dressed as Sally then?!”

“I don’t have the legs for it”

Eddie scoffs, “uh, yeah you fuckin’ do,” before he can catch himself. He slaps a hand across his mouth when he realises what he just implied.

“Been checkin’ out my pins have we, Mr Kaspbrak?” Richie lisps, stretching out his leg in a hilarious display of faux-coquettishness.

Eddie throws the wrapping paper at his head.

Eddie disappears into the bathroom, and tries the costume on. Staring at himself in the mirror, adjusting his bowtie, he has to admit to himself, he makes for a good pumpkin king. He sweeps his hair off his face, and secures it under the bald cap, and emerges from the bathroom with a flourish.

Riche clutches at his heart, “Oh sugar, ain’t you the sexiest skeleton I ever did see”

“I don’t really look like a skeleton yet. Did you get facepaints?”

“sure did, c’mere, lemme …” Richie sweeps Eddie under his arm, and guides him to the couch.

Richie crouches between Eddie’s open legs, and starts covering his face in white paint. Eddie holds his breath. Their faces are close enough that Eddie can feel the rhythmic puffs of breath coming out of Richie’s mouth, and he can see the flecks of green in Richie’s aquamarine eyes. Richie smells like smoky sandalwood and a little bit like mint. Toothpaste. Eddie tries to breathe it in without Richie noticing.

All too soon, Richie sits back on his heels, eyes scanning Eddie’s face, admiring his handiwork, “There!”

Eddie stands up, and walks over to the mirror hanging over the mantlepiece of the filled-in fireplace. He looks .. incredible. His entire face is sheet-white, with black rings around his eyes and lips.

“Holy shit, Rich…”

“He said another bad word!” Jessica yelled from her place on the counter, where she was now pushing a lonely piece of broccoli around on her otherwise empty plate.

Richie looks at the plate, and shrugs his shoulders, “good enough!”

After several minutes of highly concentrated pestering from Jessica, all three of them are out of the door into the quickly darkening night. They hop from house to house, Jessica scaring more than her fair share of other kids and even other adults. Eddie surprises himself by how much he enjoys wandering around the streets, admiring all of the costumes and sharing swigs of a bottle of hard cider Richie has hidden under his sheet.

Richie soon realises that the holes he cut in his sheet were far too small to walk normally, so he latches onto Eddie’s hand, threading his fingers through Eddie’s.

“You gotta be my eyes, spooky spaghetti. I can’t see a fuckin’ thing. Keep an eye on the clown, would ya”

Eddie squeezes Richie’s hand in reply, not trusting himself to speak.

Half way through the night, though, Richie takes off his sheet.

“The damn thing is too hot and I probably shouldn’t leave you in sole charge of the clown,” he reasons, shoving the crumpled up sheet into his bag.

“Put the damn thing back on!”

“Nope! You’re in costume enough for us both,” Richie laughs but he takes Eddie’s hand again.

After a few steps, Richie starts singing.

“And does he notice, my feelings for him? And will he see? How much he means to me”

“That’s a sad song, Rich,” Eddie whispers in response, watching Jessica roar at, and terrify, yet another small child. The kids mother glares at them, and Richie just shrugs at her, whatcha gonna do?

“Maybe. The movie does have a happy ending though,” Richie says, and Eddie just nods.

They drop Jessica back at Richie’s brothers house just before nine, and she’s so hyped up on candy and sugar that Eddie is sure that she’ll never sleep again. Richie’s brother looks almost exactly like him, and Eddie is about to ask if they’re twins, but Richie interrupts him.

“The night is young, spooky spaghetti! Follow me for the next step of the surprise”

Eddie is sceptical, mainly because the last surprise resulted in him being dressed as Jack Skellington and paraded around the neighbourhood by a plain-clothed Richie, but he figures it can’t get any worse, so he follows.

– X –

“I’ll have the mushroom bourguignon please, waiter!” Richie announces, shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Eddie, mortified and wishing he could fall straight through the floor and be devoured by the jaws of Satan himself just mumbles, “I’ll have the same.”

As soon as Richie had stopped outside the door of the fancy French restaurant, Eddie had wanted to cry. Richie hadn’t let him go home to change, assuring him that his costume would be perfectly fine attire for wherever they were going.

Richie was a liar.

Eddie had gone into the bathroom of the restaurant and fiercely scrubbed the make-up off his face, but it hadn’t quite worked, and his face now just looked sort of grey, where all the white and black face paint had blended into each other. He comes out of the bathroom, and stalks over to the table where Richie is sat, looking entirely normal in skinny black jeans and a deep purple button-up.

“I look like a dollar store Beetlejuice,” Eddie groans as he sits back down, trying to hide as much of the costume under the table as he can.

“You look ravishing, my darling,” Richie says, fluttering his eyelashes. Eddie is sure that it was supposed to be a joke, but the way Richie said it, all deep and sincere and … it certainly didn’t sound like a joke.

“Why the fuck did you buy me this costume?

“Well, I wanted you to be a pi pie, y’know, write the all of the digits of pi around the crust, but I thought you’d take it off”

“How many digits of pi do you even know?”

“Like 300”

Eddie raises his eyebrow, and Richie rolls his eyes.

“Fine, I know … 4”

“… You went to CalTech, and you’re a high school math teacher, and you only know four digits of pi!”

“There’s a pi button on the calculator, I don’t need to know it!”

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” Eddie says through his laughter, and Richie grins at him.

The food arrives promptly and it’s good, the best food Eddie had eaten in a long time, and he wolfs it down embarrassingly quickly. As is expected when two teachers spend more than four minutes together, the conversation turns to why they decided to become math teachers.

“I went to MIT on a scholarship, and I graduated top of my class as you know, and when I graduated I was pressured into taking a doctoral programme in fluid mechanics, but I lasted only two months before I dropped out because I hated the bureaucracy of it all, y’know, and I wanted to make a difference in kid’s lives, as cheesy as that sounds,” Eddie says between slurps of his soup.

Richie nods, “Yeah, my reason is pretty similar. I had ADHD, or, I guess I still do, but I take meds now so it’s easier to cope with, but yeah, all my teachers fucking hated me and didn’t have any patience with me. They didn’t bother spending more than two seconds trying to work out the best way to teach me, so I was sort of on my own all through my education, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that happening to anyone else, so I put myself through the torturous teaching degree and here I am!”

Eddie looks at Richie, really looks at him for the first time. Richie’s sat opposite him, shovelling mushrooms into his mouth and there’s sauce on his chin and he’s got red paint on his arm and he looks beautiful.

– x –

They both get far drunker than they meant to. They’re not catatonic, and they can still walk in a straight line, but Eddie knows there’s no way in hell that he’ll be able to drive home safely. He tries to get a cab from the restaurant, but Richie insists that Eddie stays with him. Eddie uhms and ahhs about it, stranger danger stranger danger! echoing in his drunk brain, but he throws caution to the wind and agrees to stay. He does, however, insist that he’s sleeping on the couch before Richie can even mention alternative sleeping arrangements.

Richie tries anyway, “we can top and tail, or you can have my bed, honest, I’ll sleep on the floor I don’t mind,” but Eddie’s having none of it. They hail a cab, and both clamber into the back seat. They sit in comfortable silence for the duration of the journey, but at one point Richie’s hand finds its way to Eddie’s knee, sending Eddie’s heart into overdrive.

When they get back to Richie’s, Richie rushes into his bedroom to grab Eddie some stuff to sleep in, sweatpants and a t-shirt with Da Vinci’s Vitruvian man on it. After calling Richie a nerd, and then asking if he could have a shower, and then having to ask Richie to show him how the shower works, Eddie stands under the boiling torrent of water and sighs, but before too long he can hear this odd scraping noise, accompanied by the occasional BANG. He puts it down to him being drunk, and finishes up in the shower. He towel dries his hair, running his fingers through it a few times to get rid of any knots, and puts on the clothes Richie leant to him which are, predictably, far too big. When he emerges from the bathroom, he’s greeted with the sight of a vaguely sweaty looking Richie leaning on the couch, which is now on its side, lodged in the doorway of Richie’s bedroom.

“It’s stuck”

“I can see that”

“Gimme a hand, Eds?”

Eddie leans on the sofa and gives it an almighty shove, and after a fair bit of effort from both of them, the sofa slides through the door and into Richie’s bedroom.

“Care to tell me why the couch is now in your bedroom and no longer in the living room?”

“Halloween magic!”

“… I literally helped you shove it in here two seconds ago”

“Like I said, Halloween magic!” Richie says, already flitting around his room, picking up rogue shoes and pairs of jeans and throwing them into the already overflowing laundry basket.

Richie ends up shoving his bed right over into the corner of the room so he can position the couch next to it, so when Eddie lies on it he’ll be facing Richie. Eddie finds all of this unbearably cute, but he’s exhausted so he falls onto the couch and makes grabby hands for the blanket Richie’s holding. Richie drapes it over Eddie with this dopy expression on his face that Eddie would have ribbed him for if he hadn’t been so sleepy.

“Thanks for taking me out, Rich. I had a really great day”

“It was my pleasure, Mr Spaghetti”

“Rich?”

“Hmm?”

“You were a cute ghost”

“Aw shucks, sugar, you’re making me blush”

Eddie smacks his lips sleepily, before stretching out his legs, “ghosts can’t blush, they don’t have any blood”

Richie laughs, and says “so fuckin’ cute” under his breath, and Eddie guesses he didn’t mean for him to hear, but he does hear, and it makes his heart skip in his chest.

Several minutes pass, and Eddie guesses Richie has fallen asleep, and he’s on the very brink of sleep himself when Richie breaks the silence.

“Eds? You asleep?”

“Yes”

“Sorry, sorry, go back to sleep”

“You gotta tell me what you wanted now, that’s the rule”

“The rule?”

“The rule that goes, ‘when you wake someone up to tell them something, you can’t then not tell them’. It’s a sacred, ancient rule,” Eddie replies, knowing he’s not making much sense, but finding it hard to care.

“Ah okay,” Richie says, solemnly, “I won’t break your ancient rule. I just wanted to ask if you were free next weekend?”

“Nope,” Eddie responds, immediately.

Silence.

“…Oh”

“Are you free next weekend?”

“What?”

“It’s my turn to ask you out. So, are you free next weekend?”

“… What just happened?”

“Just go with it! Are you free?”

“…Yes?”

“Good! I’m taking you out”

“You’re a strange little spaghetti, aren’t you”

“I’m tired leave me alone,” Eddie yawns.

Richie leans out of his bed, and presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s forehead.

“Sleep well, Eds”

– X –

Eddie wakes up the next morning with a pounding head and a dry mouth. He panics initially, not recognising the room but he soon remembers that he’s lying on a couch in Richie Tozier’s bedroom and then he’s … still panicking a bit. Richie isn’t in his bed, and Eddie can hear singing coming from the kitchen, so he pads out into the kitchen, Richie’s too-long sweatpant legs covering his feet.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes in the morning, Mr Spaghetti,” Richie sing-songs, scraping something burnt and bad-smelling into the bin.

“Hullo, Rich. What’s cooking?”

“It was an omelette but now … sad, burnt eggs,” Richie says, staring sadly at the black mess coating the bottom of the pan.

“Cereal?” Eddie suggests, and Richie beams at him.

“Cereal!”

Richie pours them bowls of cereal, and they sit in comfortable silence.

“Thanks for letting me stay last night,” Eddie says, droplets of milk spilling out of his mouth.

“Oh, no problem. You might have to help me move the couch back out here though”

Eddie snorts into his bowl, “you’re such an idiot, Rich”

“It’s endearing though, right?” Richie asks, sending a pantomime wink over to Eddie

“Eh, you say endearing, I say ridiculous”

“Tomayto, tomahto”

They finish up their cereal and Eddie helps Richie haul the couch back into the living room. Eventually, Eddie remembers that he has to go home to grade papers and make arrangements for the next practice mathletics heat, so he gets changed back into his own clothes, and leaves the clothes he borrowed from Richie in a neat pile on the bathroom counter.

They both stand awkwardly at the front door, Eddie’s hand on the door-knob, neither moving, neither saying anything. Eddie breaks the awkwardness with a hug, and they stand there for a while, Eddie’s hands wrapped around Richie’s neck, before Eddie reaches up on his tippytoes and presses a kiss to Richie’s cheek. It makes him feel like an idiot schoolgirl, but the way Richie’s face flushes scarlet makes him feel a bit better.

– X –

Eddie takes a big risk, and enters his kids into the qualifying heat of the Mathletics Olympiad, a state-wide mathletics competition. They win their first qualifying heat by a significant margin, and Eddie cries again. Richie phones him in the evening;

“I hear that Southview won their qualifier!”

“We did!”

“Did you cry again?”

“…”

“… No”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“… maybe”

“You’re so cute”

“Shut up”

“Never. I’m proud of you, y’know”

“Eh? I didn’t do anything, it was all their hard work”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think a lot of teachers woulda’ taken a chance on kids from a school like yours”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I meant, Eds, I just meant that I can’t imagine many math teachers from struggling schools would have bothered running a math club, let alone pushing their kids to mathletes”

“Well … they’re bright kids”

“I know they are, and they’ve got you cheering them on from the side lines. I hope they know how lucky they are”

“I didn’t realise you were such a sap”

“I’m getting mushy in my old age”

They talk on the phone for hours, and Eddie ends up falling asleep with the call still connected. When he wakes up, he sees that he has a text from Richie;

From: You Nerd <3:

Are you a 45 degree angle? Because you're acute-y.

To: You Nerd <3:

I was wondering when you’d break out the acute jokes

To: You Nerd <3:

Running out of material?

From: You Nerd:

NEVER!

Eddie’s school keeps winning the mathletics heats, and soon enough, they win the semi-finals by a ten point lead and Eddie cries down the phone to Richie, who immediately demands that they go out to celebrate. Eddie gets the subway in because he knows he’ll probably get drunk again, and they go to a cocktail bar that has a lively atmosphere, with Lo-Fi beats wafting through the air like smoke.

Eddie sits down at a booth at Richie’s insistence, who then disappears off to the bar to order their first drinks. Richie comes back carrying two glasses, having bought himself an old fashioned, and he orders Eddie a Tequila Sunrise. Richie manages to get half way through it, but as he drinks more, he starts looking visibly sickened by it, making involuntary faces of disgust.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, knowing exactly what’s wrong.

“This is disgusting”

Eddie laughs, an ugly honking sound that makes Richie double-take, “why did you order it?”

“… I thought it’d be cool and I wanted you to think I was sophisticated”

Eddie, who had been toying with his sickly sweet drink, wordlessly swapped the glasses in front of them, and sipped at the old fashioned with a quirked eyebrow.

“How emasculating,” Richie said, voice cracking in the middle, a wry smile appearing on his face.

“So, I heard on the grapevine that we’ll be going toe to toe in the mathletics final?” Eddie asks, downing the last of the bitter cocktail.

“Talking shop on a date? Very disappointing, Spaghetti”

“Is that what this is?” Eddie challenges, locking eyes with Richie, who shuffles closer on the sofa.

“… Was it not obvious?”

“It was, I just wanted to make you squirm”

Richie gasps, scandalised. “You’re a scoundrel, Mr Spaghetti”

“Do you wanna make another wager?” Eddie asks, Dutch courage flowing through his veins.

“Mayhaps, what do you have in mind?”

Eddie gathers up their empty glasses, and stands up to head to the bar. As he walks past Richie’s chair, he leans in to whisper in his ear, “If you win, I’ll let you go on top”

He walks off to the bar, cackling to himself, and orders two more of the same drinks. When he returns to the table, Richie looks whiplashed, and stares at him with wide, owlish eyes

“Were you serious?” Richie asks, voice low and gravelly, like Eddie had punched him in the throat.

“… No, maybe, no, I don’t think I was, I’m very drunk”

“You’ve had one drink”

“I am very drunk”

– X –

Eddie goes back to Richie’s again that evening. He justifies it to himself with the fact that it’s too cold to walk all the way back to his apartment. It’s a shitty excuse, because really he isn’t ready to say goodnight to Richie yet. When they get into his apartment, Richie nudges the couch with his foot coyly.

“I guess we have to move the couch again?”

“Naw, c’mon, we’ll top and tail it,” Eddie responds, nodding at the door to Richie’s bedroom.

Eddie borrows the same clothes as before, which Richie admits that he washed and stored in hope that Eddie would come and stay again.

Suddenly, they’re hugging. Eddie isn’t sure who initiated it, but they’re standing in the middle of Richie’s bedroom, the lights are off, and Eddie’s face is nestled in the crook of Richie’s neck. Richie is humming, a soft sort of melody that Eddie vaguely recognises, and he’s swaying them back and forth slightly. When Eddie feels like he’s falling asleep standing up, Richie guides him over to the bed, and guides him down so his head is on the pillow.

Richie pulls the duvet up around Eddie’s chin, and when he moves away, Eddie murmurs “fuck it” and surges up and kisses Richie. Richie doesn’t kiss back at first, and Eddie feels the oh fuck deep in his gut, but just as he’s about to pull away, Richie’s hands come up to cradle Eddie’s face, and he starts kissing back.

There was no pretence to the kiss, no pretending to take it slow or act reserved, as Richie pushed Eddie backwards against the pillow until he was supine with Richie bracketing his head with his arms. Eventually the kisses organically grow less heated, and they roll over onto their sides, and Eddie falls asleep with Richie pressing small clandestine kisses to his nose, cheeks, forehead.

– x –

When Eddie wakes up, Richie is still in bed with him, perhaps because Eddie has trapped Richie underneath his body sometime in the night. After Eddie stares at his face for a while, watching his nostrils flare with each inhale and exhale of breath, Richie wakes up.

“G’morning, sleepy,” Richie mumbles, grabbing Eddie’s hand and pressing a dry kiss to it with chapped lips.

“Pretty sure you’re the sleepy one, I’ve been awake for ages”

“And who is the one who fell asleep in the middle of the smooch session last night?”

“What?” Eddie questions, playing at confused.

“… um... y’know, when we were kissing last night and you fell asleep in the middle of it?”

“We kissed?”

“Do you – do you not remember?”

“No!”

“Uh… I don’t know what to tell you, Eddie” Richie says, panicked, and Eddie starts feeling cruel.

“I’m fucking with you, of course I remember”

Richie growls and flips Eddie over, and cages Eddie’s head with his arms, “you’re such a little shit”

Before Eddie can answer, Richie kisses him. Eddie buries his fingers in Richie’s hair and gives an experimental tug, smiling around the moan that Richie sends rocketing into this throat.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, Eds, Jesus,” Richie moans, before clamping his teeth down on the junction between Eddie’s neck and shoulders.

Eddie’s cock jerks in his sweatpants, and his hands fly to Richie’s shoulders, knuckles white.

“Ahhh – fuck Rich – don’t – make sure it’ll – ahhhh – be covered by my shirt”

“When I saw you on that first day, in your loafers and your dress pants and that fucking sweater looking all prim and proper I just wanted to mess you up”

Richie bites at Eddie again, but he pulls off, and stares down at Eddie. Eddie knows he looks wrecked, his hair is probably a mess, and his eyes keep rolling back when Richie shifts against him, but the way Richie is looking at him, an oxymoronic predatory yet soft look, suggests that Richie doesn’t mind too much.

They kiss like touch-starved teenagers for a while longer, until Eddie’s school alarm blares from the bedside table.

“Cock-block” Richie growls, batting at the phone with the hand that wasn’t wrapped loosely around Eddie’s neck.

Eventually, they manage to haul themselves out of bed. Eddie asks to use the shower again and wildly thinks about asking Richie to join him, the promise of Richie’s body, warm, wet and soapy against his overwhelmingly tempting, but he chickens out at the last minute. Eddie puts on the clothes he wore last night, and prays that Bev won’t mention it, even though he knows that she will.

“I can pick you up later, if you like … since you don’t have your car and all,” Richie offers, hopping on one foot as he tried to lace up his boot.

“I can ask Bev to drop me back, it’s all good”

“Naw, I – I wanna do it. I don’t think I wanna wait that long to see you again,” Richie says, putting his booted foot down and crowding Eddie against the wall.

“You big sap”

Richie wraps Eddie in his arms, and presses a kiss to the top of his head, “I told ya, mushy.”

Richie drives Eddie to his school, and Eddie hops out of the car. He walks around to Richie’s side and taps on the window, Richie rolls it down, Eddie shoves his head in through the window and presses a hard kiss to Richie’s mouth, but skips off before Richie can respond.

Richie hollers after him, “HAVE A GOOD DAY AT SCHOOL, MY LOVE!” and Eddie flips him off over his shoulder.

School passes quickly, it’s the week before the finals of the Mathletics Olympiad so basically all of Eddie’s time is taken up with that.

Richie picks him up from school as promised, but Eddie is disappointed to hear that he can’t come into Eddie’s apartment.

“I actually have to go back to school, I snuck out of a meeting to drive you home but I have to go back to my mathletics group”

“Rich! You should have let me ask Bev!” Eddie scolds, but his heart sings like a sparrow in his chest.

“But then I couldn’t have done this,” Richie says, and he surges over the gearbox and presses his mouth to Eddie’s.

They kiss until Richie starts shifting uncomfortably, gear stick poking into his ribs.

– X –

The next week is unadulterated chaos. Both Eddie and Richie are really busy, and can’t see each other before the competition. Eddie can’t help but feel really weird about the fact his school will be going up against Richie’s for such an important competition, and he wants to talk to Richie about it but Richie has been so hard to reach the past few days bc he’s been so busy so Eddie leaves it. He occupies himself with booking transport to the venue, reassuring his kids that they do deserve to be there, and trying not to neglect the rest of his AP classes.

The day of the final comes not a moment too soon, as Eddie is sure that his heart would give out if he put it under any more stress. The final is being held in the auditorium of a local university, so Eddie drives the shitty little school bus over there with his kids who are terrified. Bev works hard to keep their spirits up, as she’s taken over the role of chief motivator as Eddie is stupidly nervous, and he can barely concentrate on driving, let alone motivating 10 terrified kids.

They get to the university, and Eddie immediately notices that Richie’s school bus is already in the parking lot. They go in, they register, they go backstage and sit in the room designated to their school to prepare in. Eddie works hard to calm down his very panicked kids, whilst Bev simultaneously tries to calm down a very panicked Eddie.

Suddenly, Richie’s head appears around the door.

“Mr Kaspbrak, can I talk to you for a second?”

Eddie follows Richie out, “Rich, it really is so lovely to see you, but I’m also terrified to see you, so I think it’s best if you–”

Richie cuts Eddie off with a kiss, and Eddie can’t help but melt into it, tension draining out of his bones like water. Sadly, as soon as the kiss begins, Richie is pulling off again.

“Sorry, babe. See you ringside, coach!”

Richie darts off, and Eddie just has to lean against the wall and breathe.

– X –

Eddie’s kids win.

Eddie immediately bursts into tears.

Jasper, the team gives a rousing acceptance speech when he accepts the trophy, “we’re really proud of ourselves, the other team were amazing and we feel so honoured to be here today, it’s a privilege.”

To Eddie’s horror, they bring the mic over to the coach, announcing that “we will now a word hear a word from the coach of the championship team.”

Eddie has to stumble on stage, puffy and red faced, and he’s tries his best to speak through his tears, but all he manages to do is sob something incomprehensible, loud and sort of proud sounding into the microphone. The audience looks bemused and vaguely concerned, but Richie, who was standing on the other side of the stage with his team, is crying with laughter.

Soon after the presenting ceremony, there is the refreshment reception for the winning team. The kids all mill about, hyper on candy, sugary drinks and triumphant victory. Eddie manages to drag Richie into a secluded corner, where they can talk without risk of being overheard. Richie grasps Eddie’s hand and squeezes it.

“I’m so proud of you, short-stack”

“Short-stack?!” Eddie replies, incredulously, “I’m five-foot-nine thank you very much!”, but then he sees Bev waving to him frantically, so he sends a quick “see you later” to Richie over his shoulder as he runs off towards her.

– X –

Eddie sleeps like the dead that night, and he finds himself recruited into a celebration pep rally for the mathletics team the next day so doesn’t have time to think, breathe or eat or even text Richie.

Finally, when he gets home, he’s half way through texting Richie --

To: Short Stack:

Hey Rich, sorry I had to run last night,

-- but he doesn’t manage to get any further than that before he can hear shouting coming from outside of his window.

“I fear that I will always be a lonely number like root 3, a three is all that’s good an right, why must my 3 stay out of sight, beneath this vicious square root sign”

Richie is standing on the grass beneath Eddie’s window, swaying slightly, with a megaphone clasped between both hands, and he’s screaming into it.

“I wish instead I were a nine, for nine could thwart this evil trick, with just some quick arithmetic,”

“Are you really doing this? The Harold and Kumar thing?” Eddie yells out of his window, in disbelief.

“I know I’ll never see the sun as 1.7321, such is my reality, a sad irrationality, when hark, what is this I see?”

“So you are doing the Harold and Kumar thing”

Richie, undeterred, carries on yelling, “another square of a three, has quietly come waltzing by, together now we multiply, to form a number we prefer, rejoicing as an integer”

“I never thought I’d be serenaded with a maths poem, oh, you’re shouting over me, okay, please do continue”

“We break free from our mortal bonds, and with a wave of magic wands, our square root signs become unglued, and love, for me, has been renewed”

“Are you done? You’re done. Richie, are you okay?” Eddie asks, openly laughing now.

“I’m sorry if I said something bad!” Richie yells, still talking into the megaphone. Eddie can see the lights of his neighbours houses begin to flick on.

“For fucks sake, you lunatic! I have neighbours! Neighbours who probably hate me now!”

Eddie runs downstairs and opens the door, and Richie practically launches himself at Eddie.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” Richie whines, and Eddie is shocked to realise that he’s practically on the verge of tears.

“You do know I was crying about my kids, right? Not anything you said?” Eddie responds, voice serious.

“But I called you short!” Richie wails, looking so devastated that Eddie finds it so hard not to bark out a laugh.

“… I know I’m short?”

“But you ran awaaaaaay”

“One of the kids had eaten too much and had thrown up, Bev needed me to clean up the vom!”

Richie’s face shifts from sorrow to confusion to realisation to embarrassment at the speed of sound.

“so you don’t hate me?” Richie asks, tentatively.

Eddie pulls himself out of Richie’s arms and strokes his chin thoughtfully, “I mean … I don’t hate you but my neighbours might”

“Neighbours schmaybors, so you really aren’t offended that I called you short?”

Eddie lets himself laugh at that, “how drunk are you?”

Richie shrugs. “I had some wines. I was drowning my sorrows! I honestly thought I’d offended you and I was ready to scream apologies into this thing for hours,” he says, waving the megaphone for emphasis

“You’re such a nerd,” Eddie teases, prodding at Richie’s chest with an extended finger, and Richie sweeps him up in his arms.

“Yeah, but I’m your nerd”

“I guess you are”

Richie ducks his head, and Eddie closes his eyes in anticipation but their lips never connect.

“Hey! I have a great line for this situation”

“Oh Jesus Christ”

“I wish I was your derivative so I could lie tangent to your curves”

“You NERD”

#reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak #acute-y #math teacher au #school au #teacher au #thefutureisbright #ao

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padfootagain · 5 years ago

Text

The Suit

Here we go with a new cute little thing!! It is the last one-shot for my celebration, for the next two days, I will be updating two series you have voted for. I do hope I have managed throughout these 5 fics to bring a little bit of fluff and softness into your week. In case I had not succeeded so far, maybe this one will do the trick ;)

I have 0 respect for Canon in many fandoms (okay, all fandoms, to some extent) but especially when it comes to the MCU. Everybody lives, everybody is happy, the Avengers live together and the sky is full of rainbows! So… cute things ahead for Steve Rogers :)

I hope you like this, tell me what you thought about it!

Gif not mine (enjoy the eyelashes… argh, why is he like this?)

Word Count : 3941

When people picture the interior of the Avengers headquarters, they imagine some kind of large hangar filled with training rooms. Advanced weaponry on display in some of these rooms too, target practice, and large spaces where the Avengers can train and learn new fighting moves. Some might also imagine the Avengers' personal quarters, a kitchen, a large living room where all can gather and eat some Chinese food, maybe a room where they all can watch a good movie together too, a large bedroom for each of them and offices too were they can work on the intel sent to them.

And to this entire description, although one would gather a vague image instead of a real glimpse at the inside of the most secret building in the world (or at least one of the most secret buildings, for sure, although we must all admit that many labs in Wakanda are even more wrapped in shadows), this person listing the inside of this fortress would be right. At one major detail… or well, three, actually.

This enlightened person would have forgotten the library, for one, large and composed of an eclectic collection of novels, thesis about nuclear physics and comic books, was right between the movie room as the Avengers called it, and the offices.

Also, there is a miniature hospital in the base of the Avengers. They call it the infirmary, but it contains everything needed to heal any kind of wound they could sustain on the battle-field, and some of the most recent pieces of equipment would make even Dr Strange blush out of envy.

But the most important set of rooms that one would have forgotten are the labs. Scattered throughout the buildings, and yet vital for the heroes. Who makes the suits? The weapons? Who collects the intel? Who improves their defensive accessories? Who analyses the clues the Avengers find throughout their missions?

Obviously, the busy team of researchers and engineers working at the base.

And while you could hear the characteristic detonations of Natasha, Bucky, Sam and Clint training at firing, you were yourself stuck with a very hard problem to solve.

On your desk, what was left of Captain America's suit laid splayed so you could examine the damages the explosion had caused. He was okay, thanks to luck, his super-soldier organism and a little bit of patching up. A week after he was back from his mission, he was apparently completely healed already.

His suit, however, was still just as damaged as it was at its return from the field.

You heaved a sigh, rubbing your tired eyes. If one had told you, back at University, that your PhD in chemistry would be put to use to help a bunch of super-heroes, you would have laughed at their faces. And yet…

You heard a knock on the door of your office, but you didn't need to look up to know it was Peter Parker. You had recognized the knock already.

"Hi, Dr. Y/L/N!" He beams at you as he steps into your office and closes the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes at the teenager.

"How many times do I have to tell you? You can call me Y/N. I’m not that old! Besides, everyone does."

"Captain Rogers doesn’t."

"Yeah, but that’s because he’s old fashioned on a few things."

Peter grinned.

"You know, Natasha has another theory, and it’s a very different one."

"And what could that theory be?"

"Better let her explain it to you," he eluded the question. "What’s that?" he added, nodding at the pile of burnt and torn fabric on your desk that really didn’t look much like a uniform anymore.

"It’s Captain Rogers’s suit. I’m supposed to make an improved one for him."

"Cool! Your suits are always comfortable and efficient. Do you have any ideas yet?"

"None whatsoever."

"I guess he won’t need a new suit before the party. I hope nothing calls for it, at least. So you have a couple of weeks."

"What party?"

"There’s a big party in a couple of weeks. Everyone working here will be invited, I guess Pepper simply hasn’t sent the invitations yet. You’re gonna come, right? That would be awesome!"

"Well… if we’re all invited, then I guess…"

"Nice!"

You exchanged a smile. Something told Peter, and not his Peter tingles, another sense, a sense that was growing sharper and sharper ever since he and MJ were together, that Steve Rogers would be happy to learn that you would attend the party…

"But I doubt that you were coming here to talk about suits and parties, now, were you?"

His smile was back on his face.

"I have a new idea for my web fluid. But I need your expertise. Can you help?"

You let out a chuckle as you stood up and walked towards the door with a pen and your notebook.

"Of course. Come on, tell me all about it."

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

After a few sleepless nights for you and your team, the new suit was finally ready. The tests showed a major improvement in terms of heat responses, you hoped it would protect Captain Rogers efficiently for his next mission.

The advantage of being the head of a scientific team in the Avengers HQ was that you could go to their part of the buildings and give them their new suits, weapons and other gadgets yourself. You had grown quite fond of most of the team along the years too, which made the trip out of your lab particularly enjoyable.

You wandered off from room to room, passing before the fighters training in various methods of combat. You also came across Tony and Peter watching Morgan’s favourite Disney movie with her, and you asked them about the Captain's whereabouts.

"I think he went to the gym with Sam and Bucky," Peter answered, his voice distorted by the handful of popcorn he had shoved in his mouth.

"Because obviously gym is useful to him," Tony added in his usual teasing and yet casual tone over the loud music of Be A Man. "I’ve always thought he was short in muscles."

Meanwhile, Morgan was shouting the lyrics and was now standing on the sofa, mimicking the fighting moves of Mulan.

"BE A MAN!"

"What are you looking for him for, anyway?" Tony went on over the loud singing of his daughter. "You need a coach for the gym?"

You laughed in response.

"No, we’ve finished a new suit for him, so I’m bringing it to him."

"YOU MUST BE SWIFT AS A COURSING RIVER!"

"You guys even do the delivery part for free? Amazon might have reasons to worry."

Peter had now joined the little girl for the rest of the chorus, and he and Morgan were both singing at the top of their lungs.

"WITH ALL THE FORCE OF A GREAT TYPHOON!!"

"Well as I said, he’s at the gym," Tony went on, still focusing on you instead of the two kids by his side. "Lifting heavy things and stuff. He’ll be happy to see you."

"What do you mean?" you asked back with a frown.

"WITH ALL THE STRENGTH OF A RAGING FIRE."

Tony merely chuckled and gave you a knowing look. Although you didn’t know what the knowing in the look was about, you oblivious little thing…

"He’s always happy to see you, Y/N."

"MYSTERIOUS AS THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOOOOOOON!!!"

Tony’s gaze finally drifted back towards the two kids on the sofa, a tender smile soothing his features.

"I think she has a chance to become a superstar," he told you, pointing at Morgan. "That’s pure talent we have here. It’s not the same for the other guy over there of course, but everyone can’t be gifted."

"Hey! I don’t sing that badly!" Peter protested from his end of the couch, making both you and Tony laugh.

You thanked Tony for his help, and he waved at you in response, along with giving you a wink that seemed to carry a silent message, but you failed to understand it. Instead, you continued your journey through the HQ (but not without Morgan giving you some popcorn in support for your noble quest first, of course), and walked to the gym with a light trot and humming the tune of Mulan’s songs.

Indeed, you found Steve right where Tony had told you he would be. At the gym. Sam and Bucky were there too, but the three friends seemed on their way out. Sam and Bucky were talking (or well, bickering was a better word to describe any of their interactions, really) near the door while Steve was picking up his stuff…

… and for some reason he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Or a T-shirt. Or any piece of fabric whatsoever that would cover his torso, the skin glistening slightly with a thin layer of sweat.

No matter how uncomfortable you felt, you couldn’t help but stare.

The three of them turned to you as the door loudly closed behind you, and you all remained motionless for a moment. And for a short moment, time seemed to stop as the four of you each reacted differently to the scene unfolding around you.

You were standing, frozen, in front of the door, your package still safely in your arms as your lips parted without you noticing, and you wondered about the ratio between his biceps and your thighs…

Bucky and Sam were motionless as well, simply because they were trying not to laugh as they watched the silent scene playing between you and Steve.

Steve was still, stopped mid-movement, holding his towel in one hand and a bag in the other. And his mind was currently wondering how it would feel to touch your cheek…

He was the first to shake himself out of his thoughts, and you were rather grateful for it, as you reckoned that you wouldn’t have been able to break free on your own.

“Dr. Y/L/N. What can we do for you?”

You forced your brain to work again and your stare to leave his torso to rest on his intense blue eyes instead. How could he have such long eyelashes?

"Actually, I… hmm… I’m the one who can do something for you. I’ve finished your suit," you added, handing him the suit although you were unable to cross the room to give him the package. You didn’t trust your legs enough, they felt like they were made of soft cotton instead of bones and muscles.

"Oh, thank you," he gave you a bright smile, throwing his towel on his large shoulder and striding to you.

You reckoned that it was rather rare to see a genuine, bright smile on his features. Little smiles, yes. But large ones? Not so much. You guessed that he was very happy to get a new suit. Or perhaps the source for such happiness blooming in him was the person who brought the suit… but you didn't know that, by then.

He took the suit wrapped in kraft paper, his smile still on his lips. You noticed how flushed he was, you guessed it was because of the gym session he had just finished. You couldn’t know that your assumption was only partly true. There was another reason for him to blush up to the tip of his ears. That reason was standing right before him.

"Are you coming tomorrow night? At the big party?" he softly asked.

"Yes, I am. All the lab was invited, and most of us are coming."

"Have you found your plus one yet?" Sam jumped in the conversation.

"Oh, no. I’m coming alone. I mean, it’s not like I need support, I’m going to see my friends there so… no need to pretend."

Sam gave Steve a pointy look. Which his friend ignored.

"Are you bringing someone?" you inquired in a friendly tone.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. He doesn’t though," he added, nodding towards Steve.

You turned to Steve again. He tightened his grip on the suit, and shrugged, a shy smile on his lips.

"As you said, no need to pretend tomorrow."

You stared at each other for a couple of seconds, that seemed to stretch into minutes. And the more you looked at him, the more you wanted to tell him how you felt, how you hoped to see him the next evening, how wonderful you thought he was and… Gosh, he had gorgeous eyes…

But you couldn't do that.

"Well, I’ll see you all tomorrow then. Have a nice day," you hurried the words out of your mouth so you could stride out of the room before your reason would yield in favour of your heart, and you would spoil everything.

The second the door had closed behind you, Sam was chuckling.

"You know, it ain't that hard to ask her out. You had the perfect opportunity. You just had to ask ‘Y/N, would you like to come with me to the party tomorrow’."

"Sam…" Steve heaved a heavy sigh.

"He’s too romantic for that. He’ll make a move tomorrow night. In the moonlight and all," Bucky mocked, making Steve roll his eyes.

"I hate both of you."

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

The large room was filled with a crowd. Low lights kept an intimate atmosphere throughout the floor. At the top of the Stark Tower, the view on New York City was stunning, an intricated labyrinth of shining lights matching the paler ones hung on the sky. You felt a little tipsy after drinking a couple of tequila shots with Natasha and Wanda. You reckoned that you needed some air, and stepped outside the busy room decorated with perfect taste. The music was still loud coming through the windowpanes as you walked on the large balcony. You hadn't seen Steve yet, but reckoned it was for the best. People had dressed up for the occasion, and you did not plan on dying of a heart attack because of the sight of him in a tuxedo.

The fresh air cleared your thoughts a little and you took a deep intake of breath. You leaned against the bannister, shivering a little as the breeze brushed your naked arms. You took in the view, the sparkling lights shimmering against the darkness of the night, the busy streets and wandering forms drifting back and forth into the maze spreading below your feet.

"Hey! Y/N! Bring your arse back inside, Thor and Nat are trying to see who holds their liquor best!" you heard one of your colleagues call for you, but you shook your head with a chuckle.

"We all know Nat will win."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

You spun on your heels as you recognized Steve's voice. He was standing there, a few steps away from you, his silhouette wrapped in the lights coming out of the busy room giving him a surreal halo, a hand in the pocket of his trousers and a shy smile on his perfectly shaven face. And yes, he was wearing a classic tuxedo. And God, did the man know how to wear a bowtie…

"After all, he is an alien," he went on.

Your colleague had disappeared, you guessed she had judged wiser to leave the two of you alone on the balcony.

How could there be only the two of you out there anyway? Where were people gone to?

"Yes, but she knows too many tricks to lose this kind of bet," you argue.

He let out a chuckle, his eyes flickering to the tip of his black shoes and back up to your gaze, capturing it for good.

"I guess you're right. It's always unwise to underestimate her."

"Exactly."

"Aren't you cold out here?"

"No, I… I needed a little bit of fresh air."

"These parties can be a little too intense," he nodded.

"So can be the tequila."

You both laughed, and fell in a comfortable silence. Steve was too busy staring at you to think of anything else, let alone about words to say.

He hadn't felt that way in what seemed to be an eternity. The nervous tremor through his body, the stumbling of his heart, the freezing of his thoughts… he knew the symptoms and had no doubt about the disease causing them.

Love was an easy thing to spot when it was true, after all.

But if his feelings for you were clear to him, he didn't know about your feelings for him, that was a completely different story. Everyone kept on telling him that you liked him, and he reckoned that he should trust his friends' judgment. The doubt was still there though, a little frozen cube buried in the depth of his heart that burnt through now and then. And it was burning now.

Because as he stared at you, such an accomplished, clever, independent, strong, fierce, graceful woman, he wondered if you could really feel the same way he did.

He had been feeling this way for you for so long though… years, really. And he reckoned now that it was more than time to speak his mind. In the worst case, he would get his heart broken. But in the best case…

"Are you enjoying your evening so far? Would you like something to drink?"

You gave him an amused smile. He seemed nervous…

… maybe your friends were right about him after all.

"I am enjoying my evening so far," you answered. "And no, thank you. I already feel tipsy enough for tonight."

He walked to join you against the bannister, a dreamy smile on both of your faces.

Inside, the music had changed from some energetic pop to a slower and intimate tune. It seemed that time had slowed around the two of you as well, as you stared at each other, your frames lightened by the light inside the tower but also by the stars above and the streets below. Steve's blue eyes reflected the distant lights in an almost impossible way that lit your heart on fire.

There were a thousand things that he wanted to tell you. He wanted to tell you how he thought about you first thing in the morning and last as he closed his eyes to fall asleep. How you made him feel like he belonged in this world that wasn't his. You were amongst the few people who did not see the old soldier in him, but the man behind the shield. You had never made a snarky remark about his lack of knowledge to a reference, and he was grateful for it. You loved sharing the things you loved and that's what drove you when you showed him things he had missed during his time in the ice. It wasn't in a will to change him and make him fit better into a world he had been pushed into, it was in a desire to show him something you were passionate about, simply because you liked talking about it. It wasn't about changing him, it was about sharing. And the majority of people he had met since he had been awakened did not share that state of mind, but the opposite.

He longed to tell you how much he loved hearing you laugh, and thought you had the most adorable smile, and how he admired your smart mind, and how he respected you and your opinion about everyone else's…

There were a million words to be spoken and a thousand thoughts to articulate, but all that passed his lips when he finally mustered the strength to talk was a mere invitation, although it still sounded like a declaration.

"Would you like to dance, Y/N?"

Your heart skipped a beat or two as he called you by your first name, and dear God, did your name sounded wonderful rolling on his tongue. His hand rose as he offered you his open palm, fingers trembling slightly, blue eyes drenched in reflected lights still capturing your gaze and your entire life too. You were vaguely aware of people inside, and maybe some were staring at the two of you, but you couldn't find a way to care, nor even to check if your assumption was correct. Instead, you could not look away from Steve.

There were so many words you meant to speak and thoughts to express and confessions to free from the safety of your heart. How you adored how kind he was, and selfless. How you respected how driven he was and always right to his beliefs. And an infinity of other tiny things that had made you slowly and yet irrevocably fall in love with him.

Instead, you smiled up at him, and spoke only an answer, that still sounded like a promise.

"I would love to."

You thought he would bring you back inside, but he didn't. Instead, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer in a soft gesture. You slipped your hand in his and he gave your fingers a tender squeeze.

You started to sway with the gentle tune, but could barely acknowledge the movements of your feet. You were so close to him, he was so close to you… how could you survive this?

Calloused fingers held yours in a gentle hold, his other hand resting in the small of your back, drawing you closer and closer in an embrace that grew tighter every second and yet of which you knew you could free yourself of if you wanted. It felt safe. Warm. Peaceful. And safe, yes, so safe, so comfortable, you could lay your life in his hands blindly and wouldn't even worry about it. You couldn't remember when was the last time you felt like this, like this man before you could never make anything to hurt you, like not in a million years would he let anything bad happen to you. It felt like a lifetime ago that you trusted a man so thoroughly as you trusted Steve now.

There was warmth spreading from your body to his, reassuring, soothing. A calming glow oozing from your soul conquering his last lines of defence. He couldn't fight against you. He loved you too much for it. All he could do before you was to lay down his arms and offer you his heart on a plate. It was dangerous, and yet he was not afraid. He trusted you too blindly to worry about what you could do with his most precious offering. You would do with it what you pleased. He would accept it all no matter what. It could either bring him back to life or break him for good, but in any case, he would not regret giving you his heart. He knew so much, at least.

He leaned down, your bodies too close to be moved closer to each other by then, resting his jaw against your temple. He remained quiet and so did you, although your two pounding hearts spoke better than your tongues at this moment.

There were no words needing to be spoken, you both knew that this feeling coursing through your bodies now was the feeling of coming home.

Inside the busy crowd, Sam was finishing his third glass of bourbon, while Bucky drank the last drop of his third beer. They exchanged a glance, and Bucky extended his hand. Sam could only chuckle before reaching for his wallet and slipping a twenty dollar bill in Bucky's hand. He had lost his wager, but learnt an important lesson.

One should never underestimate the sense of romance of Captain America, especially if he is wearing that kind of suit.

*****************************************************************

Tag list : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi

@madamrogers

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #captain america imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #writing

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lonestarbabe · 5 years ago

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Holding Out For a Hero

Chapter 1: Where Have All The Good Men Gone

When T.K. Strand was eight years old, his father died on 9/11 with the rest of his fire station, and T.K.’s life forever changed. Luckily, in his grief and anger, T.K. found music, which gave him an outlet and kept him out of trouble… at least enough to keep him alive. At the age of sixteen, T.K. was propelled into stardom and with the grief and anger still very much alive within him, he began to use drugs, alcohol, and one-night stands to cope. As one of the most popular pop stars alive, T.K. has been accustomed to screaming masses and fanatical adoration but his manager, Judd, and best friend, Marjan, seem to think T.K. needs someone to look after him. T.K. doesn’t want another bodyguard, not after the series of uptight tightwads he’s had, but when he’s introduced to buff, sweetly handsome Carlos Reyes, T.K. begrudgingly decides that he can put up with a little eye candy hanging around (but it’s not because he needs someone to look after him, definitely not…)

T.K.

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” T.K. refuted, petulantly crossing his arms over his chest, but Judd gave him a sharp “don’t argue with me” look. The look usually didn’t go very far. After all, arguing was one of T.K.’s favorite hobbies. Though, he rarely took arguments too seriously. Mostly, they were just for sport, but this time T.K. knew to shut up, at least while Judd lectured him.

“Come on, this is my job to look after you. Let me do it.” Judd adjusted his wristwatch, still not used to the heavy metal Rolex that Grace had gotten him. She’d told him maybe it would him look like an actual manager because looking at Judd, you’d pick a barista from Starbucks as the talent manager over Judd.

Judd’s flannel shirt and blue jeans set him apart from not just other managers but also most of LA. Originally from Texas, Judd may have been a high-profile entertainment manager, but he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a suit to work. If you squinted, you might mistake him for a hipster, but Judd would snarl if anyone ever called him that (he had no beard or weird coffee). Lumberjack would be less offensive (again, no beard or no ax). Cowboy would be better than redneck. He might even take cowboy with pride.

While he was still very much a Texan at heart, Judd had followed his wife, Grace, out to LA so she could chase her dream of being an actress. Considering that Grace Ryder was going to be in what could be the summer’s big blockbuster, the move had paid off and things were going well for the Ryders. T.K. was just relieved that for the last five years he’d had Judd on his side. It was good to have someone who cared, even if T.K. was still a fuck up (because that was inevitable).

His former manager, Misty, had been a robotic woman who cared more about her pantsuits than her clients. At sixteen, he’d signed on with her, and from the start, she’d wanted more than T.K. was willing to give. Albums, tours, books, perfume lines, signings— she’d wanted him to do it all, but T.K. never got a moment of rest. She manipulated him and used all his youthful optimism against him. At first, it had been fun, but then it was just exhausting. Misty had cracked T.K., and she had made music a chore, but it wasn’t like T.K. knew anything else. He felt trapped. He wanted to love music again, but he knew he couldn’t do that with Misty breathing down his neck. Misty wasn’t evil. T.K. had good times with her even if he couldn’t keep up with her demands. She’d helped him start his career. She’d taken a chance on him. Nevertheless, she wasn’t good for him. She was too concerned about her own desires to pay proper attention to his. He needed someone who saw him as an actual person rather than a problem.

Now, Judd had the unenviable job of trying to piece a broken kid back together, but Judd didn’t seem too dismayed by the task. He’d been doing it for five years, after all. T.K. had come to Judd after a long search for the perfect manager, and it had been a cosmically right fit. Marjan Marwani, T.K.’s best friend, had actually been the one who had found Judd, and she still held it over his head that she had found him the best manager on the planet. He really loved his best friend even if she liked to taunt him mercilessly.

In the time that he had been T.K.’s manager, Judd had been patient with T.K. He worked so hard to keep T.K. vaguely functional. Judd actually cared for some reason. Unlike Misty, Judd wasn’t the kind of manager in it for the money. He’d even suggested that T.K. take a break whereas other managers would have tried to keep their top-earning talent working as much as possible. Judd wouldn’t care if he didn’t get another dime from T.K., but T.K. was too stubborn and too lost to take time from the spotlight. He needed music in his life.

“All celebrities of your caliber use bodyguards,” Judd explained, his accent muted slightly by LA influences. When he went home to Austin, Judd’s voice always reverted to its original sound just like T.K. always sounded most like a New Yorker when he was in New York. “It’s a security risk to let you go running around alone. I know you like your independence, but when you have as many fans as you do, things are bound to get out of control.” T.K. suspected Judd was less worried about fans than T.K.’s behavior.

“Yeah, and I’ve had fifteen bodyguards in the past six months alone. I think that’s quite enough.” The last thing T.K. needed was another big slab of man following him around with a faintly disapproving look. His former bodyguards all tried and failed to keep a neutral expression when they worked for him. They’d been discreet, but he could always see the way their eyebrows scrunched, and lips pushed together with a nearly inaudible grunt. Even when he was drunk and higher than the moon, T.K. could see the disdain or, worse, the pity, in their eyes. He was just another teenage star turned adult fuck up. He wore the badge as proudly as he could even though he hated himself for becoming an out of control stranger.

“You know I’m not happy with your revolving door of bodyguards. It’s a major hassle, but I’d rather hunt down schmucks willing to deal with you than for you to get into trouble. Believe it or not, I prefer you alive.” T.K.’s heart flipped at the sentiment, and for whatever reason, he felt touched. The warm feeling sent a surge of anxiety through his body because somewhere along the line he’d learned concern was dangerous. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to retain his cool demeanor.

T.K. rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Dad,” he said before he could think. The joke scratched against T.K.’s tongue like sandpaper. He hadn’t used the word dad in… well, he couldn’t even remember how long. Since his dad had died, T.K. had always the term father to refer to all dads. Dad was too personal, so he usually saved that word only for use with his own father, whose memory had become terrifyingly blurry in T.K.’s mind.

Judd grunted, an affectionate, slightly exasperated grunt. You could tell a lot about Judd’s mood based on his grunt. Grace always joked that he had a language composed all of grunts. “Someone has to look out for you.” Because your dad is dead.

“I don’t want to be protected,” especially not by his big brother of a manager.

“Yeah, well I can’t trust you to quit your self-destructive shit. Sometimes I wonder…” Judd trailed off shaking his head. His voice had quivered, softer and more hesitant.

“What? Wonder what?” He was already starting to feel defensive.

“Never mind, kid. It doesn’t matter.” Judd bit his bottom lip, knowing that he had almost said too much. His eyes were concerned, which made T.K. feel angry more than loved. He didn’t like when Judd tried to give him “much needed guidance.”

“No, tell me, what is it?” T.K. hated being coddled and kept out of the loop even if it was for his own good.

Judd looked at the picture of Grace on his desk. Emotions were more her thing. She’d be much better at this, but T.K. was worth making the effort when need be. “It’s not something you’d want to hear.”

“I don’t care. Tell me.”

Judd sighed, worrying that this thought would do more harm than good, but it had been growing in his mind for a while. He took a deep breath. “Sometimes I wonder if it doesn’t matter to you if you live or die.” T.K. eyes shot up to meet Judd’s. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was headed, but he didn’t like it. Yet, he couldn’t retreat from it because he’d been the one to press Judd to tell him what he was thinking.

“I’m not suicidal.” It wasn’t like he was going to jump off a bridge or something. “I wouldn’t try to kill myself if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Maybe not. I’m not exactly the best person to talk about all this stuff but seems to me that you wouldn’t mind dying if it happened to you.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Judd,” but it did. T.K. knew exactly what Judd meant, and it scared him how close to the truth Judd was.

“I just think that it doesn’t scare you that one night you could overdose, and I think you’re playin’ Russian roulette with your life, half-hoping that maybe you won’t get lucky.”

“Psychoanalyzing is for shrinks.”

“Yeah, I know, but it can’t be healthy to be so unconcerned about your own mortality.”

“There wouldn’t be much I could do about it if I died, so I don’t bother worrying about it.” T.K. thought about death sometimes. He’d even imagined himself dying, but it wasn’t in a weird way he didn’t think. Everyone thought about it. Him maybe more than others.

“No, I guess not, but I’m just saying that it seems to me you’d be okay if it just ended, relieved even.”

“Not to get nihilistic or whatever, but there’s not much to live for is there? But it’s just like going to work. Each day, you just gotta do it.” Life, even the glamorous life of a superstar, could be a monotonous jumble of highs and lows, but T.K. had learned that there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had to keep trudging along even if he didn’t know where to or why.

“Man, I don’t know what to say to that, but I think you’ve got it all wrong. Life isn’t that grim.”

T.K. backtracked. “I didn’t mean to suggest it was. It isn’t all bad, really. It’s not like I always hate it or anything. I do have fun. I have my pick of men, and I get invited to lots of parties.” T.K. smirked. “I’m sure you’ve seen some of the viral videos.”

“Getting so wasted you can’t remember how many fingers you have ain’t fun.”

“You’re just lucky none of my sex tapes have been leaked, but let me tell you, they’d do real well on Pornhub.”

“Keep those to yourself. The ‘I only have six fingers’ video was enough of a nightmare.” It should have been humiliating, but T.K. had just laughed when it had come out. His management team had been clucking like hens, but something so silly wasn’t worth all that headache, so T.K. just reminded that everything that happened to him was one big cosmic joke.

“I don’t even remember that night honestly, but that’s the fun of it, Judd—forgetting all the things you normally have to remember.”

“Yeah, well, how ‘bout trying to remember a little more. You’ll forget yourself if you’re not careful.”

“As long as I don’t forget how to carry a tune, I think I’ll be okay.” As long as he could still got on the stage and do his job, he’d be fine.

“You’re more than a singer.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be. Life would be so much better if you only had to be one thing.”

“I want you to slow down on the partying.”

T.K. laughed. “And you think a bodyguard can help me with that? Yeah, right.” T.K. didn’t believe he needed a bodyguard at all. He was a big boy, and he wasn’t going to wilt just because a crowd gathered trying to get his attention or he drank a little too much. Bodyguards were basically just pieces of furniture who turn into stone walls when danger struck.

“He’ll make sure you make it out in one piece. I’ve picked a great guy.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“I mean it with this one.”

T.K. exhaled, still not thrilled about the idea of having someone follow him around. “What’s his name?”

“Carlos Reyes, and I think he’s just your type.”

“My type?”

“Trust me. He’s the kind of guy you’d like. He’ll keep up with you.”

“Oh yeah? Another bald forty-year-old? You know that those Mr. Clean types really get me going. It would be really hot to see my reflection on one of their shiny heads. Narcissistic goals.”

“You better bet careful, T.K. One of these days someone will think you’re serious.”

“I am. That dude three, no four, bodyguards ago took me way too serious. I think he actually thought I was into him.”

“I think Aaron quit just because you kept calling him a sexy Mr. Clean.” Judd shook his head, smiling a little.

“I think that guy’s suit was glued to his body. He didn’t even try to fit in. Bodyguards should be discreet. Plus, I got homophobic vibes from him. Like the kind of guy who will say he’s fine with gay people but then ask who’s the woman in the relationship.”

“The new guy isn’t like that.”

“So, if he’s not like Mr. Clean, what is he like? Hot? Eighty years-old? An actual robot?”

Judd gestures a zip across his lips. “You’ll see his pretty face soon, Rockstar. He starts tomorrow.”

“Maybe give me a week. I need some me time before I’m shackled to a piece of meat. ”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Judd was decisive, “But no, you cannot have a week. I’ve already told him he could start tomorrow.” He left no room for arguments.

“Fine.” T.K. stood up from his chair, letting it teeter unsteadily with the force of him pushing it out behind him. The chair settled, all four legs back on the ground. T.K. took a breath. “I guess I better enjoy tonight, then, before this guy comes in to try to tame me.” T.K. winked. “Many men have tried. Very few have succeeded. Like Miley Cyrus would say, ‘I can’t be tamed.’”

“Don’t tell me you want to get on a wrecking ball for your next video?”

He shook his head. “That’s not controversial enough for my taste. Full frontal nudity or nothing. The wrecking ball would just get in the way.”

Judd didn’t feed into T.K.’s joke. He gave T.K. a firm look. “You’ll call me if you need a ride home?” Judd had long ago made it clear that he was always available if T.K. needed him, no questions asked. T.K. had never taken him up on that offer.

“I’m not the kind of fuck up who crashes his hundred-thousand-dollar car. I know to hire a driver if I’m going to drink,” among other things, “or I’m sure I’ll find a nice young man to take me home. Or old. I’m not that picky.”

Judd gave him a disapproving look because T.K. liked to jump in bed with people who didn’t give a damn about his wellbeing. “That’s what I’m worried about. One of these days the young man, or old one, won’t be so nice.”

T.K. liked that thought. Good guys weren’t his thing, after all. Sweet guys were cute, but they always seemed unobtainable, especially with how much T.K. expected of his men. He liked them tough, sometimes even mean. He liked to watch them fight for dominance. He liked to watch them puff their chests and try to pin him down. He liked to roll them over and tease them with his lips and tongue. He liked to give in just as much as he liked to resist. “Even better.”

#my fics #911 lone star fic #911 lone star au #911 lone star #tarlos #sorry I wanted to put this on here before the next chapter #I am a mess #Elise Writes #my writing #Season 1

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moviemunchies · 4 years ago

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One day a man named Ben Mezrich pitched a book called The Accidental Billionaires about the founding of Facebook by Mark Zuckerberg. Before he even got started the publisher sold the movie rights for the book, and Aaron Sorkin of The West Wing fame was attached to compose the screenplay. He did so, and the resulting film, directed by David Fincher The Social Network. Because the movie was written at the same time as the book it’s supposedly based on, and because this is Hollywood we’re talking about, this isn’t an accurate depiction of events or the people involved.

Kind of makes you wonder about the “Best Adapted Screenplay” Oscar it got, doesn’t it?

The Social Network tells the story of Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Einsenberg), a Harvard student that, after a bad breakup with his girlfriend Erica (Rooney Mara), decides to make a website that compares female students’ hotness by hacking into different on-campus clubs’ webpages. This grabs attention, and a group of entrepreneurs (the Winklevoss twins and their friend Divya Narendra, played by Armie Hammer and Max Minghella) come to Zuckerberg with an idea for an exclusive Harvard website. After that meeting, Zuckerberg comes up with the idea of Facebook, and goes to his best friend Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield) to help start the business. And things get more heated when Zuckerberg meets Sean Parker (Justin Timberlake), who goes against Eduardo’s business advice, but seems to be good at making the website successful.

Basically: how Mark Zuckerberg made Facebook, and all the people he alienated and screwed over along the way.

Like I said, this is a work of fiction. I’ve seen people cite this movie to make some accusation or another about Mark Zuckerberg or social media, but this movie isn’t a very accurate depiction of what happened. And it’s not meant to be; Aaron Sorkin’s been pretty up front that he wasn’t trying to make a documentary or tell the truth; he just wanted to tell a good story.

And it is a good story. One critic even claimed that it’s our generation’s Citizen Kane, though as someone who has seen Citizen Kane too many times I think that’s an exaggeration. It’s a good movie though because it manages to capture so much of the era it’s about, and the way people treat and mistreat each other.

The movie’s framing device, which is not obvious from the very beginning, is that Zuckerberg is being sued by both Saverin and the Winklevoss twins, and as the story goes on we see how those relationships deteriorate while seeing where they end up. This gives the story a hefty weight, a sense of dramatic irony, because we know where the story’s going to end up while the characters in the narrative don’t. It feels almost like the modern-day take on the concept of fate in a story, where the characters make their destinies happen through bad decisions that they had no way of knowing the consequences of.

There are a few things Sorkin is famous for, but his dialogue is undoubtedly what sets him apart from other screenwriters. Fast and frantic dialogue populates this film, especially with characters like Mark who can have hard-to-follow trains of thought that they spit out as they think of them. And with good dialogue you need a talented cast to deliver it in a way that imparts the emotions of characters, and thankfully this film has one. Watch any scene from this film for just the dialogue and delivery, if you cannot watch the whole thing--you’ll be rewarded.

There are a couple of issues I had watching this film, that weren’t just odd feelings on the Winklevoss twins both being played by the same actor (supposedly Fincher couldn’t find actor twins that matched the physique of the two Olympic-level rowers). The first is a case of white-washing: Divya Narendra is an Indian-American man, and his actor is white with a deep tan. And he does a good job, but the fact is that it’s a clear example of a white actor playing an Indian character, one who is based off of a real-life person who is alive and active today. I don’t blame Max Minghella as much as Fincher and the producers of the movie; after all, would it really have been that hard to find an Indian actor for the role? It’s not even that Minghella looks that much like Narendra. It feels odd and in a movie made in 2010 I am baffled by this casting decision. Like I said, this isn’t a diss on Minghella, who does a good job in this movie, but he should not have been in the position of playing an Indian man.

Secondly: this film heavily implies (about as heavily as possible without outright saying it) that the reason Zuckerberg went through any of this was because he never got over Erica dumping him. I have mixed feelings about this. It almost pushes Zuckerberg into completely unlikable territory, as a man obsessed with a woman who made it clear that she wants nothing to do with him. I get that it fits into the theme of all of his achievements being built out of loneliness, but… really? It sometimes feels like it pigeonholes the character into something she clearly doesn’t want to be: an object.

This movie’s also a bit funny because of its depiction of Facebook. When The Social Network premiered in 2010, Facebook was the hip social media website. This film depicts Facebook in its earliest days as a college party gone online, the new scene for young people to find themselves and others. There are multiple conversations about how Zuckerberg doesn’t want to put ads on the site because that would ruin the experience.

And nowadays… Facebook is loaded with ads. And to be fair it had ads on the sidebar when this movie premiered in 2010, but now it’s full to the brim, with ads popping up on your News Feed unprompted to shove something down your throat, or popping up in videos without little warning, and will pause if you switch tabs. And the whole idea of Facebook being for cool college kids? Yeah, nowadays Facebook is known for being where all of your middle-aged and elderly relatives hang out online, and it’s less a party scene and more a place where people share links (of sometimes less-than-reputable news sources) and meme images. This isn’t a criticism of the movie, but it does feel like a time capsule in a way, a look back at a time that wasn’t more innocent, exactly, but a lot more optimistic about the future of social media.

The Social Network may not be Citizen Kane, but it is an excellent film worth seeing. It’s well-acted, well-written, well-directed and well-made. Aside from a couple of hiccups, it’s one of the finest films of the past decade.

#The Social Network #movie reviews #movies #Movie Munchies

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inyournightmares97 · 6 years ago

Text

Chocolate Eyes

You return home to find that the man you once loved has become a violent criminal, your mother is sick and your beloved little brother hates you. It’s hard to decide what is right and wrong. But at the end of day, we’re all just trying to protect the people we love.

Word Count: 19.5k

Warnings: Language, angst, dark topics. The reader has dark brown eyes since this is a birthday gift for Aia, but as always there are no other physical descriptions. (This is a revamp/continuation of a fic I abandoned for another group long ago. That one was barely 8k though lol.)

Note: Happy Birthday, Aia! This is a birthday present for @ijustwantacue although I don’t know how appropriate it is since it’s filled to the brim with angst lol. I still hope that you enjoy it and have a great day!

“Homework?” you asked cheerfully, tapping on Jaebum’s desk.

The handsome boy had a large pair of headphones over his ears and his eyes were closed as he bounced his head to the music. He hadn’t noticed you tapping on the desk. It was only when you poked Jaebum’s shoulder that he opened his eyes and reluctantly pulled the headphones down to rest around his neck.

“Huh?” he asked.

You smiled at him playfully. “Homework, genius. I’ve called you five times now. Please tell me you did it.”

Jaebum raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Why? Want to copy off me?”

“Fat chance. I did my own homework. I just wanted to cross check my answers because Mrs. Lee said she’s grading the assignment. But if you haven’t even done it…” you trailed off, giving him a smug look.

You couldn’t wait to hear Jaebum admit that he hadn’t done his homework. The two of you were the smartest students in the class. Admittedly, Jaebum’s intelligence was of a more natural and God-given nature while you worked much harder for your own grades. Both of you still maintained a friendly competition.

“I did do it,” Jaebum replied. He pulled out a slightly crumpled folder from his bag and handed it to you. Then he leaned forward to watch while your sharp eyes flitted across his homework. “Noticed what you did wrong, yet?” he teased.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “We have the same answers, idiot. Although… wait, what’s this?”

Jaebum cleared his throat and covered a page filled with messy scribbles. “Ah- sorry, that’s not part of the homework. I was just writing down ideas for some music I’m trying to compose. There’s an underground dance battle behind the railway tracks. Jackson Wang keeps challenging me. I’m planning to whoop his ass.”

You handed the homework file back to him. “Well, I don’t know much about dance but you should probably write your ideas down more neatly so that you can actually make sense of them later. Besides. What does it matter? Hip-hop music all sounds the same.”

You knew that Jaebum was an amazing dancer and b-boy. He often performed during school talent shows and other events. He was incredibly talented, the entire school knew this, but you’d never really seen him in his element at the underground battles.

Jaebum rolled his eyes. “You just don’t understand hip-hop music.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

“It’s really amazing. The beats, the music and the dance all come together like magic. You should come watch one of the underground battles. Do you want to come with me today? It’ll be a great time.”

You hesitated. Part of you really wanted to go with Jaebum. He was interesting and funny so you loved spending time with him. As much as you hated to admit it, you had a huge crush on your handsome classmate. But you had never been to anything like an underground rap battle before and the idea scared you a little.

“I don’t know…” you trailed off.

“You don’t have to,” Jaebum reassured you.

“It just sounds kind of scary.”

He chuckled. “It’s not. I mean, it’s technically illegal but… the guys there are friendly and everything. It’s not the mess of drunken rowdiness you’re probably imagining. Most of those guys are really talented; and there are girls too. You should see this girl called Momo, they say she’s the queen-“

“I wasn’t imagining drunk rowdiness!” you protested, flushing.

Jaebum grinned, his rare and handsome smile leaving you speechless. “Yeah, right. Come on. One time? I promise I’ll stay beside you the entire time.”

You bit your lip and then nodded. “Okay.”

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

You hitched your backpack up on your shoulder as you approached the house.

It had only been two years since you’d last been home. Somehow, the rickety house looked older and more dilapidated than ever. Paint was peeling off the outer walls and there was dirt everywhere. Your throat clenched uncomfortably.

What happened to this place? It looked almost uninhabited. Your hands trembled as you pushed open the slightly rusting gate and stepped onto the front porch.

“Mom? Are you here?” you called out. The front door was unlocked and you entered the messy and silent house. The living room had a stale and dusty smell. You hurried further inside to find your mother in her bedroom. The older woman was lying back in bed with the covers tucked firmly around her chest.

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Mom! I’m home!” you announced with a teary-eyed laugh.

Your mother smiled at you weakly. “Ah, darling. I was waiting for you. I’m sorry I can’t get up. I have a bit of a fever…” she apologized while she hugged you back gently. Her arms felt surprisingly frail and her grip around you was weak. “How are you, darling? How’s college going for you?”

You smiled. “It’s going fine.”

“You’re not struggling too much, are you?” she pressed.

“I’m fine,” you reassured her. You glanced around the room. It wasn’t very clean and you wondered how your ordinarily picky mother had allowed the house to fall into such a condition. You looked down at your sunken-eyed mother and gave her a small smile. Never mind. It wasn’t the time to get into such things. You could do a little bit of cleaning around the house if your mother was ill.

“Have you eaten? Should I make dinner?” you offered.

“No, darling, you don’t have to cook-“

“I don’t mind. You rest. I’ll get started on dinner.”

You dropped your bags on the bedroom floor and then hurried into the kitchen. The refrigerator was making an odd noise but you pulled it open anyway and frowned. There wasn’t much in here for you to work with. You managed to lay your hands on some meat in the freezer rack and flipped it over to check an expiration date.

“Mom, where’s Yugyeom?” you called out loudly. “Is he still at school? Shouldn’t he have a holiday today?”

Your mother’s weak voice replied from the bedroom. “I don’t know darling. He’s usually not home at this time.”

“I messaged the idiot to pick me up at the station but he never came. I had to take the bus all the way back here with my luggage,” you complained.

You pulled your cell-phone out of your pocket and dialed your younger brother’s number, waiting as the phone rang repeatedly. There was no response. You put the phone back while you set the frozen meat on the counter.

Idiot. Where could Yugyeom have gone when he knew I was coming home today?

You finished making dinner and called Yugyeom a few more times while you unpacked in your old bedroom. There was a lot of dust everywhere. You ended up having to clean most of the first floor in the process. How had your mother and brother allowed the house to get so messy? You collected an enormous pile of dirty laundry that you would have to do before you went to bed tonight. They were so careless.

It was slowly getting dark and Yugyeom still wasn’t home. Your mother didn’t seem worried so you decided not to comment on your brother’s absence. All the same, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit hurt. What was more important to Yugyeom than his sister who hadn’t been home in about two years? Couldn’t he even come and say hello to you?

“Was it tasty?” you asked your mother as you watched her eat the soup. “My roommate is from Busan and she taught me the recipe. You can make it with almost no ingredients. It’s nice, right?”

Your mother smiled gently. “It’s wonderful, dear.”

“Does Yugyeom not turn up for dinner often? I made enough for him. He used to love my cooking.”

“He stays out late with some friends of his,” your mother replied with a light hum as she spooned more soup into her mouth. She gave you a weak smile. “He’ll be fine. They’re nice boys.”

You nodded, resisting the urge to yawn. It had been a long day and you had been travelling for most of the morning, not to mention you’d cleaned the entire house and cooked. You were dying to go to bed. On your way upstairs you glanced at the clock.

It was almost 11 pm. Surely Yugyeom wouldn’t come home at this time? Maybe he was going to spend the night with a friend.

You hesitated for a short moment before locking up the house and going to bed.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

You found yourself sticking close to Jaebum as you both approached the old, abandoned railway tracks. The underground dance battles apparently weren’t physically underground (you had honestly imagined a dilapidated old subway station or something along those lines) but they were actually held out in the open behind the old railway tracks that had long been out of service.

There were a lot of people around. some of them looked perfectly normal like you and Jaebum, while others were a little more intimidating.

“See?” Jaebum asked, leaning down to speak to you. He let you hold on to his arm without commenting on how tight your grip was. “Not scary, right?”

“I guess not,” you admitted as you watched some dude set up speakers and microphones on the makeshift stage. The dance battles were often followed by hip-hop music and rap battles. “You don’t have permission to use this space, right?””

“Of course we don’t. It’s trespassing.”

“So what if the police come? Then what do we do?”

Jaebum gave you a cheeky grin and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“...We run for it.”

His husky whisper sent a shiver down your spine. You had to try not to blush. Instead, you reached out and smacked his shoulder. Jaebum only laughed playfully and dodged your hit before reaching for your hand and pulling you further into the crowd.

“Come on, we should go find some friendly faces. My friends are over there, I’ll introduce you; Jackson Wang! Park Jinyoung!” he yelled out loudly.

A pair of guys waved at him and you followed Jaebum silently. You hadn’t been sure what his friends would be like, but they both appeared to be perfectly normal. Well, perhaps not completely. Jinyoung looked normal. Jackson Wang was extremely muscular and had a slightly stupid grin on his face as soon as he spotted you and Jaebum.

“JB! Hey, what took you so long? I told you some of the older guys were performing today, you totally missed them!”

Jaebum chuckled. “Sorry, man.”

“JB?” you wondered quietly. Jaebum turned to glance at you and his cheeks turned slightly pink at the way your head tilted curiously. “Who’s JB?”

“Uh, it’s my b-boy name,” he muttered. “Short for Jaebum, you know.”

You couldn’t help but let out a snigger. You had never heard anything less creative.

“JB?” you demanded. “Who’s genius idea was that? Couldn’t you have come up with something more unique?”

Jinyoung smiled and reached out to shake your hand in a friendly manner. “Hey, I like her. She has the right attitude for this place. Nice to meet you, I’m Jinyoung and this is Jackson but he likes to go by J-Flawless around here. Are you a dancer too?” he asked curiously.

You flushed. “What? Oh no, I can’t dance at all. I’m just here to watch.”

“She’s my classmate,” Jaebum explained lightly. He suddenly remembered that he was holding your hand and tried to drop it casually, but Jinyoung’s sharp eyes missed nothing. The man blinked in a slightly confused manner before narrowing down on your face. You felt almost naked as Jinyoung's sharp eyes scanned you. After a few seconds, he let out a small cackle of laughter.

“Oh my God! Jaebum, you can’t be serious!” Jinyoung cried. “This is Chocolate Eyes, isn’t it?”

Jaebum flushed. “Shut up.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t performed it for her!” Jackson pressed with a cheerful grin. You blinked at Jackson when he turned to you firmly. “Haven’t you heard Jaebum’s Chocolate Eyes song?” he demanded.

You glanced at Jaebum uncertainly. “Uh…. I haven’t heard a lot of his songs to be honest… what’s so special about Chocolate Eyes?”

“It’s probably the cheesiest shit he’s ever written. Which is a lot because most of his lyrics are ‘fuck the society’ or innuendos about the size of his dick. Except you see, this one is about a girl with chocolate-colored eyes and the lyrics are literally twenty or so lines about how pretty the color of this girl’s eyes are so it’s some embarrassing shit.” He turned and grinned at Jaebum. “I would have thought you would-“

“Hey! Would you look at that? Someone is going on stage!” Jaebum cut him off quickly.

You had to admit that the dance battles were a lot of fun. It was loud and the crowd went wild with each dazzling move, especially when the more experienced dancers went up on stage. You had been waiting for Jaebum to go up as well, but he shyly admitted to you that he wasn’t really prepared to go on stage that day and that he’d perform some other time.

You also found that Jinyoung and Jackson (or J-Flawless, as he requested you call him during dance battles) were a lot of fun. Jinyoung was a little cheeky and kept addressing you as Chocolate Eyes which left you a little flustered, but Jackson was extremely nice and friendly and kept talking to you. By the time you realized that it was past your curfew, you almost didn’t want to leave.

“It wasn’t as scary as you thought, right?” Jaebum asked as you both walked back after the event.

It was past your curfew but you’d called your little brother and told him to cover for you with your parents. Yugyeom had whined about being asked to do such a thing. Still, he eventually agreed to lie on your behalf.

It was dark as you walked back, and the street was relatively quiet.

“It was really interesting,” you admitted shyly. “I never knew hip-hop and dance could be so cool. And your friends were really fun. I don’t get why Jinyoung kept calling me Chocolate Eyes, though… and whatever he said about a song you wrote…” you trailed off, hoping he would explain it to you.

Jaebum flushed and he shoved his hands in his pockets as he stared down at the ground. “I-uh- it’s just a stupid song that I wrote. I wanted to try writing something romantic for once to challenge myself, so… I guess I just looked for inspiration wherever I could find it.”

“Will you show it to me?” you asked.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

He took a deep breath and turned to look at you with a sudden intensity that made your spine tingle.

”Because Jinyoung is right. Chocolate Eyes is about you.”

There was a brief pause before you both stopped walking and turned to look at each other. Jaebum was looking down at you so gently. He lifted a hand and gently stroked the side of your face with a rough thumb as his lips curved into a shy smile.

“Your eyes really are the color of dark chocolate,” he explained quietly. “And I kept thinking about how beautiful they are and how much I like when you look at me like that.”

Your breath hitched. “Like what?” you whispered.

“That.” He leaned down and kissed you, your lips pressing together sweetly and hesitantly. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down closer so you could kiss him harder. Something about the sudden embrace was both exciting and still safe. Jaebum always made you feel safe.

The two of you pulled away breathlessly after a few moments, foreheads still pressed together.

“But the lyrics are complete shit because I couldn’t find the right words for them. I couldn’t find the right words for you,” Jaebum whispered against your lips.

“Words are overrated anyway.”

He chuckled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Kiss me again.”

When you finally managed to pull yourself away from Jaebum and climb into your room through the window, your head was spinning giddily. You had never been as crazy about a guy as you were about Jaebum. You were so busy smiling to yourself stupidly that you almost didn’t notice the boy sitting on your bed.

Yugyeom, had been waiting up for you while clutching his stuffed animal. Really, he was in middle school. He was too old for stuffed animals but Yugyeom had always been a child.

“Noona!” he greeted happily.

You jumped at the sound of his voice. “Hey. You scared me. What are you still doing up? Go to bed.”

“Noona, I covered for you with mom and dad. Aren’t you grateful?” Yugyeom pouted. His mouth spread into a cheeky and lopsided grin as he beamed up at you. “Where did you go, noona? Were you on a date with your boyfriend?” he teased.

You blushed. “Shut up.”

“You were?”

“Nope.” You lowered your voice and shut the bedroom door before beaming at your little brother. “You’ll never guess where noona was today. I went to go see an underground dance battle!”

Yugyeom’s eyes shimmered with excitement. “Wow! What’s that?”

“Go brush your teeth, get under the covers, and I’ll tell you all about it…”

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

Somebody started pounding on the door at 2 am.

You awoke suddenly from a deep sleep to the banging noise and your eyes shot open. Who was at the door at this time of night? Heartbeat thudding and adrenaline pumping through you, you paused to grab a knife from the kitchen before slowly approaching the shaking door. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to think straight.

“Who is it?” you yelled over the banging.

The banging stopped.

“Noona?” Yugyeom’s voice demanded through the door. It was much deeper than you remembered but it was still unmistakably your little brother. Relieved, you let the kitchen knife fall to your side. Yugyeom sounded annoyed and banged a couple more times. “Fuck, noona, why did you lock the door? Open up!”

You hurried to remove the deadbolts and swung the door open. Part of you was positive that Yugyeom must be drunk; he probably went out drinking with his friends, why else would he come back home at this absurd hour and make such a scene? You couldn’t believe that your innocent little brother was drinking underage. You were just getting ready to scold him when your eyes adjusted to the darkness and you saw what was in front of you properly.

There were two men on the porch. Both were tall but Yugyeom was more so. Your brother was clutching onto the shorter man as if he couldn’t stand properly, half bent over while bruises littered his pale skin. Yugyeom’s lip was bleeding and swollen and there was a large graze on his forehead that was dripping blood down the side of his face. He looked like he’d been in a fight.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

“Oh my God-“ you could barely form words on your lips as Yugyeom silently limped into the front hall and turned on the light. There was blood on his clothes. He dropped a tattered backpack in the hallway as he sat down to take off his shoes. “Yugyeom-“

Yugyeom barely looked at you. “Welcome home, noona. Don’t lock the door at night next time.”

Your felt nauseous as you whirled around to look at the other man that was waiting in the doorway. It had been two years since you had last seen him, but you recognized Lim Jaebum immediately. He looked almost the same. Tall, broad shoulders and a sharp angular face. His dark eyes were as intense as ever.

Your blood ran cold.

“Lim Jaebum,” you greeted quietly.

Jaebum looked equally surprised to see you and his mouth fell open for a brief moment before he quickly closed it. You could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat as he whispered a gruff response.

“Uh-hi. Welcome back.”

“What the fuck did you do to my brother?” you demanded, feeling your heartbeat race at the sight of a bloodied and bruised Yugyeom sitting on the floor and taking off his dirty sneakers. You whirled around and glared at Jaebum. “How dare you lay your hands on my brother-“

Yugyeom scoffed from his place on the floor. “Don’t be stupid, noona, Jaebum-hyung didn’t beat me up. He brought me back here safely.”

“You shut your mouth, Kim Yugyeom, I’ll deal with you later,” you hissed. Your insides were twisting and turning. What had been happening here while you were gone? Your worst nightmares were coming true and as you looked up at Lim Jaebum, you felt nothing but pure and adulterated anger. He was to blame. He was the one who’d gotten your brother involved in something ugly, you just knew it.

“Get out of my house,” you told Jaebum firmly.

Yugyeom glared at you. “Don’t talk to hyung like that-“

“Get out of my house, Lim Jaebum, and stay the hell away from my family.”

“Hyung, you don’t have to leave-“

Jaebum cut Yugyeom off and gave you a small, polite bow. “It’s fine. I should go. Clean yourself up properly, Yugyeom. I’ll be leaving now.”

He turned around and walked away, not even flinching when you slammed the door shut after him. You locked the deadbolts to be safe and then ran your fingers through your hair as you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. Then you turned to look at Yugyeom.

He was getting up from the floor while glaring at you. Your head spun. Where was your adorable younger brother with the cheeky grin? You didn’t know this strange man standing in front of you and that scared you.

“You shouldn’t have talked to Jaebum-hyung like that,” Yugyeom said coldly.

You stiffened. “Since when is Lim Jaebum your hyung?”

“Since you left.”

“I went to college,” you hissed.

“Well, I hope you had a nice time there,” Yugyeom scoffed before turning around to limp away. He was headed towards the stairs and you called after him angrily.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you yet. Sit down here so I can clean you up and we can talk about whatever the hell is going on,” you ordered firmly. There was no way you could let Yugyeom get away with this sort of behaviour. This wasn’t how either of you had been raised. “Do you come home like this often? Do you let our mother see you this way? Does she know that you’re buddies with Lim Jaebum?”

Yugyeom turned and gave you a cold, empty look.

“I can clean up after myself,” he replied dully. “I’ve been doing it for the past year. And as for our mother…In case you haven’t noticed yet, she’s dying.”

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

It was the beginning of your senior year when your father died.

Your mother spent an entire week at home without food, sobbing her eyes out and completely cut off from the world. Yugyeom was too innocent to understand what was going on and he would sit in his mother’s lap and cry along with her, clutching his stuffed animals. You had been left alone; alone to manage the household, alone to comfort your remaining family members, alone to finish your studies.

“My dear,” you teacher said to you quietly, when you turned up to school a mere three days after your father’s death. “You don’t need to come into school yet. Stay with your family. Take a year off if you need to. It’s all right.”

You had stiffened. “I’m fine,” you replied quietly. “I want to graduate this year.”

The only person you allowed yourself to cry in front of was Jaebum. He would come find you every day and you would let yourself break down in front of him, clutching his shirt as you sobbed into his chest and let out all your frustrations. Your father hadn’t just left your family; he had left behind debt and the moneylenders had started sending you messages. You had no idea how to repay them. One of the moneylenders in particular had been sending threatening messages and had even sent goons to your door to frighten you.

“I’m scared,” you sobbed into Jaebum’s chest as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. It was the only place you ever felt safe anymore. “I-I can barely make ends meet with my part time job. Yugyeom had to start working too. How am I going to pay back that money, Jaebum? How am I going to protect my family?”

Jaebum rubbed your back gently as he pressed his face against your hair. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised you quietly. “Baby, I’ll make sure they don’t hurt you. Listen to me. You are going to be fine.”

“I can’t- I can’t handle this, I can’t do it alone-“ you whimpered.

“You’re not alone. I’m here.”

“What are you going to do, Jaebum? What can you possibly do?”

“I’ll do everything I can.”

You fended off the moneylenders with vague promises of paying them back in a few years with interest, although you had no idea how you were going to manage it all. Instead, you dove into your academics. The only way you could ever pay that sort of money back was if you finished her education and got a proper job.

Part-time employment in the local restaurant wouldn’t cut it. You would be in debt for the rest of her life, if you went down that path. You needed to graduate, take out a student loan to go to college and earn a salary figure with a lot of zeros in it. That was the only way you would ever be able to take care of your family.

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

You couldn’t sleep.

You kept tossing and turning in bed, nightmares from the past plaguing you and causing you to wake up in a cold sweat. You finally forced yourself out of bed at dawn and stumbled around the house sleepily. You carefully approached Yugyeom’s room. He had left his door slightly ajar and the sound of his deep snoring drifted out.

You stood there silently for a moment before slowly walking in. Yugyeom was spread across his bed in a clumsy manner, one long leg hanging off the single bed that was now too small for him. He hadn’t cleaned himself up. Dried blood crusted around his lips and forehead. You quietly grabbed a blanket and spread it over your brother before stepping out of the room.

What happened to him? Yugyeom had never been like this. He had been a little innocent and sometimes stupid, but he was always a cheerful boy who found life exciting in general. How had he gotten involved with Lim Jaebum? Why was he coming home at unnatural hours with wounds all over him?

You entered the kitchen before remembering that there was hardly any food in the fridge. You paused and let your head rest in your hands for a few moments as you tried to make sense of what was happening around you. Why was everything such a mess? How had things gone so far downhill just because you’d gone off to college for a few months?

“Darling?” you mother called out weakly from her room. “Darling, are you awake?”

You straightened up and entered your mother’s room quickly, only to find that the older woman was sitting up in bed and coughing. You remembered Yugyeom’s piercing words from last night. As for eomma… she’s dying. You looked at your mother and blinked back the tears that sprang into your eyes. Why hadn’t you noticed her frail body and sunken face before? She didn’t merely have a fever. She was seriously ill.

“Mom,” you whispered softly. You went and sat next to you mother carefully. “Are you hungry? I’ll go down to the grocery store and get some things so I can make breakfast-“

Your mother groaned and sat up. “No, darling, you shouldn’t have to do all the cooking when you’ve just come home. I’ll make something for you-“

“No, lie down. I want to make breakfast. You should rest.”

Your mother sank back into the bed. “Did Yugyeom-ie come home last night?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” she replied, looking relieved. The older woman closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the pillow. “He’s a good kid. He really is. Sometimes he makes mistakes, but he’s a good kid. That Jaebum boy takes care of him well. He comes and says hi to me sometimes as well. Polite boy.”

Your spine shuddered. “Lim Jaebum comes here often?”

“Hmmm.”

You took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to your mother’s forehead before grabbing your wallet and heading out of the front door to buy groceries. Your head was still spinning. What is Lim Jaebum getting at? Was he really trying to take care of your family or was he planning to drag Yugyeom down with him into a messy life of crime and self-destruction?

You couldn’t believe anything. You didn’t trust Jaebum. You wanted him far away from your family and you were going to make it happen.

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

You bit your lip and twirled the pen absentmindedly between your fingers.

“I can’t figure this one out,” you complained as you scratched out the last few lines of calculations that you had made in the notebook. “I thought I was applying the formulae right but I keep getting this weird number in recurring decimal points when the answer should be a whole number…”

Jaebum leaned towards you, pushing his glasses higher up his nose as he read over your work. You watched his eyes skim over the page. You thought Jaebum was extremely attractive when he wore glasses. He was handsome in general, of course, but you couldn’t take her eyes off him when he took his reading glasses out. It was a pity that he only wore them when the two of you were studying alone.

“Yup. Wrong formula,” he said after a few seconds, pointing at a particular step in your calculations. “You’re supposed to apply the other one, genius.”

“Ahhh…” you bit her lip and hurried to scribble down the correct formula. “What would I do without you, Jaebum?”

“Don’t kid yourself. You would have wasted five more minutes to figure out your own mistake at worst.”

You smiled at him sweetly. “Well, then, thank you for saving five minutes of my time.”

Jaebum leaned close to you, stroking your cheek with the back of his fingers as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Since I saved you so much time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth softly. “I think it should be mine, don’t you? Those five minutes belong to me.”

You glanced back at the homework doubtfully. “Jaebum…”

“Shh. It’s just five minutes.” He slanted his mouth over yours delicately, tongue dancing with yours as his strong arms wrapped around you. You whimpered into the kiss. Jaebum’s kisses were addictive; slow and gentle, yet at the same time extremely passionate. You could feel the heat from his lips and the eagerness with which he was kissing you And yet somehow they made you feel safe. Jaebum would pull you into his arms and wrap them around you tightly until you were cocooned into his chest. You loved that more than anything.

“Noona? Noona!”

You both pulled apart rapidly.

“Can you get under the bed?” you hissed as Yugyeom’s loud footsteps came up the stairs. Jaebum sighed but dove under the bed and managed to fit broad shoulders underneath it just as Yugyeom opened the door. You smiled at your brother sweetly.

“Yugyeom. You’re home.”

Yugyeom smiled back half-heartedly. “Yeah. Work was hard. I hate this part-time job,” he admitted quietly. He gave you a small grin. “Is there anything to eat, noona? I’m starving.”

“Half of my paycheck goes in feeding you,” she joked. It wasn’t Yugyeom’s fault. He had recently hit puberty and seemed to be gaining inches in height with each passing day. He ate a lot and you could do nothing but playfully scold him while you made enough food. “Mom made soup before she left for her night shift. Go switch the rice cooker on before you wash up. We’ll eat in twenty minutes.”

“Fine,” Yugyeom agreed, shutting the door behind him as he left. Jaebum crawled out from under the bed and gave you a resentful frown as he brushed dust off his shoulders.

“Do I have to hide whenever your brother is around?” he grumbled.

You pouted. “Sorry. It’s just really embarrassing. If he found you in the bedroom once then the idiot would keep trying to catch us at it and we wouldn’t have a second of privacy here. It’s just easier if he doesn’t know.”

Jaebum pouted. “Fine,” he mumbled. “I’ll get going then.”

“Wait.”

You dug into your backpack and pulled out a flyer, placing it on the table. “They were handing these out outside school earlier today. It’s a college exam prep center in the next town. They have demo classes on weekends and you can sit in on the classes and decide whether you want to join.”

Jaebum glanced down at the flyer. “Oh.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well? Do you want to go? The classes aren’t that expensive. We should give it a shot, right? How else are we going to get through college entrance exams? They might cover stuff we don’t do at school.”

“It’s just…” Jaebum bit his lip and gave you a tentative look. “I’ll come with you if you want. But I’m not sure I want to go to college.”

You laughed. “What? Don’t be stupid. You’d be a shoo-in for the top colleges.”

“I don’t want to go,” he replied with a shrug. He sat next to you and ran his fingers through his messy hair. His thin lips were pressed together tightly. “Honestly, I kind of wanted to drop-out of high school because it makes me that miserable. I’m only sticking around to graduate. But I don’t want to go to college and get a degree that I won’t know what to do with. I think there are other things I want to pursue. Other ways of making money.”

You stared at him. You knew that Jaebum was a little unconventional and that he probably wouldn’t want to do something boring with his life. But you hadn’t thought that he wouldn’t even want to go to college. You glanced down at the flyer quietly.

“What are you going to do if you don’t go to college?” you whispered.

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. Maybe I’ll get into dancing professionally. I could audition for some dance teams.”

“But how will you earn money in the meantime-“

Jaebum leaned down and kissed your forehead sweetly. “Baby, don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of myself. I have ways of making money that don’t need a college degree, okay? Let’s go visit that prep class place on Saturday.”

You stared at him. “What ways? Jaebum, you’re not doing anything illegal, are you?”

Jaebum chuckled. “Babe, relax.”

“Promise me you’re not doing something shady like dealing drugs or whatever,” you insisted. You trusted that Jaebum was a good an honest person. But truth be told, there were all sorts of people at those dance battles. You were terrified that he might be dragged into a life of crime. “Don’t join a gang or something. You won’t, right? You’ll stay safe?”

Jaebum cupped your cheek and smiled. “You’re adorable when you’re worried about me.”

“I’m not kidding, Jaebum. I’ll never forgive you if you get yourself arrested-”

“I won’t. Trust me.”

Jaebum’s dark eyes were shining softly. You knew that you could trust the man in front of you but you were worried. Too many things had gone wrong in your life too quickly. You couldn’t afford to lose Jaebum too. You needed him to stay with you. You needed him to be the smart and reliable person that you always trusted.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Jaebum chuckled as he moved towards your open window. “I can’t believe I have to sneak out because of your little brother…”

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

You bought groceries early in the morning and were busy making pancakes in the kitchen when Yugyeom finally came downstairs. He blinked sleepily and absent-mindedly for a moment before moving past you and heading towards the living room.

You called after him.

“Yugyeom, where are you going? I made pancakes!” you offered kindly. You had begun to wonder if you’d been too harsh with him last night. Yugyeom was your brother after all. You loved him. The two of you could sit and talk about whatever he was going through. You peeked out of the kitchen and waved him over eagerly. “You like my pancakes, right? Come on. I even bought the tasty syrup from the store.”

Yugyeom hesitated in the hallway. “I’m going out.”

“Where?”

He turned and frowned at you. “I don’t have to tell you where I’m going,” he snapped. “You’ve been gone for two years. What, you think you can suddenly come in here and order me around and demand to know about my life? That’s not how it works, noona.”

Your throat felt constricted. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like you hate me,” you replied quietly. Yugyeom was glaring at you and you felt like you were going to cry. Why was he behaving this way? What had you done to deserve this? “Yugyeom, I came home after two years. I want to spend time with my family. I’ve missed you and I’ve missed Mom but she’s lying sick on her bed and you’re acting like a completely different person, I…” you trailed off, your voice cracking. “I don’t know what to do.”

Yugyeom turned away from you. “You should have thought of that before you left home.”

“You’re acting like I ran away! I went to college, Yugyeom! Things haven’t been easy for me either!” you replied heatedly. You were on the verge of tears. “I need to keep on top of my studies to maintain my scholarship and get a job so I can repay my student loans and our father’s debt.”

“You don’t have to worry about our father’s debt,” Yugyeom informed you dully as he sat down in the hallway to put on his shoes. He tugged at the shoelaces. “I’ve started paying them off already.”

“How? Are you still working part-time at the restaurant?”

“No, I quit that job. It didn’t pay shit. I’m working for Jaebum-hyung now,” Yugyeom replied. He finished tying his shoelaces and stood up. His backpack was lying beside the doorway and he picked it up and slung it over his shoulders. “I have to go to work now. Bye.”

You closed her eyes to blink back your tears.

“Did Jaebum do this?” you asked quietly.

“What?”

“Did Jaebum turn you against me?” you demanded, voice rising. You had tried to keep calm but your head was spinning and you felt like you were going to lose control of yourself any moment. The unfamiliar man standing in front of you was still your brother and he wouldn’t have become like this without an explanation. “Did he make you hate me? Is he getting you to do illegal things for money? Is he blackmailing you or hurting you in some way?”

Yugyeom stiffened. “I’ve said this before. Don’t talk about Jaebum-hyung that way.”

“Are you scared of him?”

“No! How many times do I have to say this to get it through your thick head?” he yelled. “Jaebum-hyung was there for me. He stayed by me no matter what. He’s taking care of me, noona, in a way that you haven’t for the past two years.”

You opened your mouth. “I-“

“Don’t press me on this any further,” he cut you off and turned away from you. “Because Jaebum-hyung is an amazing person and I would pick him over you any day. Don’t push me to make that choice. Go eat your stupid pancakes yourself. And make sure Mom takes her medicines on time. It’s the least you can do at this point.”

He stormed past you and slammed the front door shut behind him.

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

You closed your eyes, holding back tears as your hands trembled. You couldn’t speak. Your entire body was shivering from fear and you felt like you were going to faint.

The moneylenders had been getting more impatient. Admittedly, it wasn’t all of them. Some were more willing to wait. But there was one man in particular who didn’t trust that you would ever pay him back, who wouldn’t shy away from using whatever means he could to recover his money.

You had been returning from the library late in the evening when the two men had grabbed you. When they held a knife to her throat and told you to pay the money back immediately, you were sure that you were going to die. They wouldn’t believe that you didn’t have it. They would get it out of you somehow, they said, and their boss wasn’t going to wait much longer.

By the time they left you alone you were terrified and sobbing in the alleyway. You barely managed to call Jaebum and tell him where you were.

Jaebum’s face had gone dark when he found you, bruises littering your arms from the men’s rough handling and crying so hard that you could only blubber out incomprehensible words. He had held you silently as you cried. You weren’t scared for herself; surely the moneylender knew that he would never get the money if he killed you.

“What about my mother and Yugyeom?” you had whispered. Your fingers clutched onto Jaebum’s shirt as you sobbed the last of your remaining tears into it. “How can I go off to college? What if he hurts them while I’m gone, Jaebum? What if he does something to them, I could never…”

Jaebum had pressed you to his chest. “This will never happen again.”

“How can you be sure-“

“It won’t,” he said firmly. His own shoulders were shaking in anger and his eyes had gone dark. You had never seen Jaebum so angry. He was normally a straight-faced and calm person but he looked almost murderous as he held you that night. “That man will never touch you again. And once you go to college, he will never touch your family.”

You shook your head. ‘How can you-“

“Baby, do you trust me?”

His fingers held your chin gently and he tilted your face up so that you were looking into his eyes. You didn’t recognize the look on his face. It was different and strange. Suddenly, he didn’t seem like Jaebum anymore. When you failed to respond, he pressed his forehead to yours so that you had nowhere else to look.

“Have I ever lied to you?” Jaebum asked softly. “Have I ever let you down?”

“N-no-“

“Then believe me. I will not let him touch you. And if he wants to get to your family once you go to college, he’ll have to get through me. That is a promise.” Jaebum’s thumb gently brushed away one of the tears that had spilt out of your red eyes. “Come on, take a deep breath and wipe away those tears. You don’t want Yugyeom to see you like this.”

You nodded, wiping away your tears and then pressing a hard kiss to Jaebum’s mouth. You didn’t know whether he could do anything to help you, but he had stayed with you through the hardest times of your life. You knew that you would have gone mad without him.

“I love you,” you told him firmly.

Jaebum smiled down at you. “I love you too,” he whispered.

You pulled away from him and rolled down your shirt sleeves to hide the bruises as you entered your house. Yugyeom was too busy watching television to notice your entrance so you managed to slip upstairs before your mother could suspect anything had happened.

Once you reached your bedroom, you peeked out of the window and saw that Jaebum was still standing in the street in front of your house. He was walking up and down the street agitatedly while he talked on the phone, running his fingers through his already tousled hair. You heard him curse loudly once. After about ten minutes, he hung up and walked away. Jaebum’s tall figure slowly disappeared down the road and out of sight of your window.

If only you had known in that moment, how much Lim Jaebum was willing to sacrifice for you.

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

“I need to talk to Lim Jaebum.”

The handsome man behind the counter had put on a dazzling smile when you first walked into the bakery, but it immediately faltered upon recognition. Mark Tuan’s large eyes blinked at you for a long moment before he responded.

“That’s a nice way to greet someone you haven’t seen in over a year,” Mark mused. “And here I thought you wanted some cake.”

“I wouldn’t mind some cake,” you admitted, feeling a little ashamed of your rude behavior. It was true that you were furious and frustrated but it wasn’t fair to take that out on Mark. He was one of the sweetest people you knew and had been slipping you and your brother free treats ever since he started the bakery. “But right now, I need to talk to Lim Jaebum.”

“Well, you’re not going to find him here.”

“Where is he?”

Mark sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Oppa, please. I know you’re the one that took care of him while he was in prison,” you pointed out. You might not have been here when it happened but you weren’t entirely cut off from this town. Rumors had reached you even back in college. Mark had always taken care of the younger boys in town. “If anyone would know where he is, it’s you. Or Jackson and Jinyoung, but I don’t know how to find them either.”

Mark ran a hand over his face. “Jaebum’s had it hard.”

“He killed a man while trying to steal from him.”

“And he only went to prison for eight months, which shows that a judge in a court of law didn’t think he was completely to blame. So if you’re going to hold that against him-“

“What if I told you that I think he’s about to take my little brother down the same path?”

Mark was quiet. He stared at you for a long moment, eyes unblinking. Then he took a deep breath and then nodded. “Maybe it’s better you talk to him yourself. He and Jinyoung bought out the old mechanics’ place; do you remember it? They run the car repair shed. You should find him somewhere around there.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

“Anyone could have told you that,” Mark replied dismissively. He turned and looked at you with a firm gaze. “Listen to me. Jaebum is a good man. You know that more than anyone. Don’t forget that, okay? He doesn’t deserve a lot of the things that are happening to him.”

You closed your eyes. “Don’t try to pull that with me. You might be used to dealing with boys who go down the wrong path so it’s nothing in your eyes, Mark, but what Jaebum did is unforgivable. He’s a criminal.”

“No, you don’t-“

“You’re going to tell me that he did it because he was having a hard time. I know. Money was hard to come by. He probably wanted to help me pay my debts back so he and his gang tried to steal from that man. I don’t care. I never asked him to commit a crime for me and I most definitely never asked him to kill someone,” you snapped. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened and no matter which way I look at it, what Jaebum did is unforgivable. He’s not the man I used to know. He’d been dealing with these sort of criminals long before he told me the truth. He lied to me.”

Mark was quiet.

“I know,” he reassured you softly. “Just go talk to him.”

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

You took a deep breath before you entered the shed-like mechanic’s store. You had gone to the gas station nearby first, but a rather handsome young boy with a cheerful smile had been manning the counter and stammered out that Jaebum was in the garage. His nametag read Youngjae and he had gaped at you in a rather obvious manner as you left the store. You wasn’t sure whether he was just a hormonal teenage boy, or if he somehow knew who you were.

The mechanic’s was a dirty place. You found yourself coughing as you were hit with the pungent smell of oil and petrol. To nobody’s surprise, you spotted Park Jinyoung settled comfortably behind a table with some ledgers open in front of him, nodding off. No wonder. He had never been one to get his hands dirty, Jinyoung was probably managing the finances of this place. You tapped the table in front of him to get his attention.

“Ahem.”

Jinyoung jolted upright. “Huh? What-who- oh.” His eyes widened as he saw you and he blinked. “Well. I heard you were back in town, Chocolate Eyes, but I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Where’s Jaebum?”

He smiled a gummy smile. “What, no pleasantries-“

“Where’s Jaebum?”

His smile dropped when he noticed the serious expression on you face. He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, yelling out Jaebum’s name loudly. There was a shuffling noise from the back of the shed. A few clanks could be heard before Jaebum appeared from behind a car. He was wiping the oil off his hands as he approached the front, and he stopped short when his eyes landed on you.

“Hey,” he greeted softly.

“Can we talk?” you asked him.

He nodded silently, leading you towards a door in the side of the shop that led into a smaller office. It had a small table that was stacked with more ledgers, and paperwork that had evidently been left unfiled. Jaebum didn’t speak but you could see that he was tense; years of knowing him had left you able to recognize when the seemingly cool man was actually flustered. Jaebum’s jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes looked worried as he pointed towards a chair.

“Uh- you can have a seat-“

“Where’s Yugyeom? He told me he was coming to work with you today,” you said, ignoring the chair.

Jaebum was silent for a moment. His eyes drank you in slowly and quietly. He hadn’t had a chance to look at you properly the previous night, considering how dark it was and how upset you had been over Yugyeom being covered in blood. But he saw you now. You looked the same as you had looked two years ago. Your cheeks had filled out more and you looked healthier than when you had been here.

Jaebum could see the hard exterior that you were trying to display but there was vulnerability in your eyes. Your chocolate-colored orbs were red and puffy even as they glared at him. Jaebum could tell that you had been crying so he took a deep breath and tried to focus on his words.

“I sent Yugyeom on some errands.”

You didn’t like that answer. “Errands?” you demanded. “Is he going to come back beaten up and half dead from those errands again?”

“I sent him to the post office. He’s mailing some orders to our suppliers.”

“Suppliers? Suppliers of what?”

“Car parts,” he said firmly. Jaebum sighed and gestured towards the ledgers behind him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking but I’m not doing anything illegal here. This is a genuine business. You can check my accounts if you want to. It’s transparent.”

You folded your arms across your chest and stared back at Jaebum. You hated the gentle way in which he looked at you, the softness in his gaze even while you glared at him. It reminded you of all the stolen nights spent in your bedroom when you would look up from your homework and find Jaebum looking at you with that same gentle gaze, eyes full of adoration.

But you weren’t going to let silly feelings from the past overwhelm you. There was something going on, and the Lim Jaebum standing in front of you had too many secrets.

“Yugyeom says he’s started paying back my father’s debts. He claims he’s doing it from the salary you’re paying him for working here,” you informed him stiffly. “I’m supposed to believe you can afford to pay him so much money just from your profits here? How long have you been out of prison, Jaebum? I highly doubt that business is booming right now.”

Jaebum was silent.

“Can you honestly tell me you don’t have some other source of income on the side?”

He lowered his eyes, unable to meet you piercing gaze. “It’s not what you think,” he whispered.

“What is it, then? Tell me.”

“You don’t understand. You’ve been gone for a long time. Things here have changed a lot, especially your brother. I know you love him, but he’s not the same kid he used to be-“

“Of course he isn’t, you’ve been ruining him,” you hissed.

Jaebum looked bewildered. “Ruining him? What does that even mean, what exactly do you think-“

“Yugyeom told me,” you explained shakily, “that he would choose you over me any day. He seems to think I abandoned him. My little brother looked at me with more hatred than I’ve ever seen in his eyes in the past 17 years, Jaebum; tell me you didn’t do that to him.”

“He shouldn’t be treating you that way,” Jaebum mumbled. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. “I’ll talk to him about his behavior and teach him to be more respectful-“

You scoffed. “How? Are you going to beat it into him again?”

Jaebum looked shocked. “I have never laid a finger on your brother. Do you really think I’m capable of that? Do you really think I’m such a monster that I would hit Yugyeom?” he asked, his voice cracking. His eyes were piercing into yours as he searched for some reassurance. “You know me better than anyone. How could you think I would do that?”

There was a brief silence.

“I didn’t think you were capable of robbery or murder either, but here we are.”

Jaebum looked defeated. He closed his eyes for a moment and the two of you stood in a long, painful silence. You could feel your heartbeat thudding. Jaebum wasn’t denying it. He looked up at you calmly after a few moments, his eyes filled with pain.

“You must really hate me,” he whispered. He let out a small, choked laugh. “I probably deserve it, I don’t know. But believe me when I say that I never had any intention of hurting you or your brother. That’s the last thing I would want to do.”

You closed your eyes in an attempt to blink back the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks.. “I don’t care. I don’t care what you wanted. If you had known anything about me then you would have known that I never wanted you to do any of those things. I hate that you did them. I hate you. You’re a monster.”

Before Jaebum could say anything else, the door to the small office room burst open. Yugyeom entered with a cheerful grin on his face.

“Hyung! I posted those letters, like you asked. I met Bambam on the way too, his arm is almost healed so he might come into work tomorrow.” He finished speaking, before he suddenly noticed you standing there. His smile dropped suddenly. “Noona?”

Jaebum gave the younger boy a forced smile. “Your sister has been looking for you. Why don’t you go home with her?”

Yugyeom frowned at you. “Why do you have to come into my workplace?” he sounded annoyed. “Anyway, my shift isn’t over yet. I’m supposed to be working until 9 today so-“

“I’ll let you off early,” Jaebum replied. “Go home and have dinner with your sister.”

“I don’t want to,” Yugyeom replied defiantly. He turned and glared at you. “Why should I have dinner with her? Why should I care when she never cared about me?”

Your chest felt tight. “Yugyeom…”

Jaebum’s eyes flashed with a hint of anger as he saw the broken-hearted expression on your face. He knew how much you loved Yugyeom. He knew that you had done so much in order to protect your little brother and that you couldn’t bear the way he was treating you now. Jaebum placed a hand on Yugyeom’s shoulder and then turned to look at you.

“You should go home. I’ll send Yugyeom back home before dinnertime,” he told you calmly.

You swallowed. “But-”

“I promise.”

“If he’s not back home in two hours then I’m calling the police,” you told Jaebum shakily. Then you turned once more to meet Yugyeom’s angry eyes and felt the sharp stab of pain in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you slowly walked out of the mechanic’s shed.

You suddenly felt incredibly alone in this world.

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

“Noona, can’t I come to these dance battles too?”

You sighed. Yugyeom was growing more alert and intelligent as time passed, which meant that he had a knack for figuring out when you were about to sneak out of the house to meet Jaebum. The young boy burst into your bedroom just as you were putting on your jacket and climbing out of the window.

“No, Yugyeom,” you told him patiently.

Yugyeom frowned. “Why not?”

“Because they’re not for little kids.”

“But I want to learn how to dance too! I’m really good at dancing!” he insisted with a pout. Yugyeom immediately started doing a rather poor imitation of breakdance moves in the middle of your bedroom to prove his passion. You couldn’t help but laugh; Yugyeom was growing taller and lankier each day and puberty had left him with dangling limbs and shoulders that he didn’t know what to do with. You giggled when he tried to imitate a robot-like dance move.

“Yugyeom, stop,” you laughed.

Yugyeom stopped dancing and frowned. “It’s not fair. I’m a better dancer than you. Why can’t I go? Noona, I want to meet your boyfriend. Maybe he can teach me how to dance.”

You shook your head “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Yugyeom folded his arms across his chest with a pout. “Yes, you do. Don’t lie. I heard his voice in your bedroom last night. I know he’s the person you keep going to these dance battles with. Why won’t you take me with you? I promise I’ll be totally quiet and I won’t annoy him at all. I’ll even call him hyung and he can teach me how to breakdance!”

You smiled and placed your hands on your brother’s chubby cheeks to squish them. “You don’t want to come to those underground dance battles. How about you join some dance classes? Noona will find a way to pay for them. Just wait a year or two, okay?”

“Really?”

“I promise. If Yugyeom-mie wants to learn how to dance then he can learn it properly, not from my boyfriend.”

Yugyeom’s face broke into a shit-eating grin. “Ha! So you admit you have a boyfriend?”

You flushed. “What?”

“You admitted it, you admitted it! I didn’t really want to learn how to dance I just wanted you to admit that you had a boyfriend!” Yugyeom sang happily. He held his palm out to you in a smug manner. “Noona, give me money to buy a new game or I’m going to tell Mom about your boyfriend.”

You glared at him. “You little shit.”

Yugyeom beamed.

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

Your mother was having trouble breathing when you got home.

“Are you sure we don’t need to go to the hospital, Mom?” you asked. There was a small medicine bag on the bedside table and you helped her find the asthma inhaler and use it to help calm her breathing. There were a surprisingly large number of medicines in the bag. You didn’t know who had paid for all of these medications and you didn’t really want to ask.

You had a feeling that you wouldn’t like the answer.

“I’m fine,” she croaked dismissively. She let out a dry cough. “This happens all the time. It’s fine. I’ll be perfectly fine in a few minutes.”

You bit your lip. “Mom…”

“It’s really all right. Why don’t you let me get up and make you some dinner-”

“I’ve already started on dinner,” you told her firmly before making sure that she lay back on the bed. You didn’t want her to strain herself in this delicate condition. “I bought chicken and potatoes to make Yugyeom’s favorite dinner and they’re cooking. I’m going to bring you some soup in bed.”

She glanced up at you. “Are you all right, dear?”

No, you thought to yourself. No, I’m not fine. Everything is falling apart, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t know how sick you are. I don’t know how much trouble Yugyeom’s in.

I don’t know anything.

You had finished making dinner and served the meal into plates when the front door opened. Yugyeom trudged into the house with his lips pressed together tightly. He gave you a surly look and then sat down at the dining table. He blinked in surprise at how clean it was; you’d spent all afternoon cleaning the kitchen and the living room.

“I made chicken,” you informed him gently. You set the plate down in front of Yugyeom but he didn’t even look at it. He simply stared at you in stony silence. You sat across from him and clenched your fists. You hate the emptiness you saw in Yugyeom’s eyes as he stared at you. You hated how you could no longer see the spark of innocence, the happiness in his eyes as he called you noona.

You hated how your little brother had disappeared.

“Aren’t you hungry?” you wondered.

Yugyeom folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “Jaebum-hyung says I have to apologize to you. He thinks that I shouldn’t have been so rude and that I should treat my older sister better. Funny, isn’t it? How he seems to think that you’re deserving of respect even though you evidently think that he’s trash.”

You took a deep breath. “Yugyeom, Lim Jaebum is a criminal-”

“He served the time the court asked him to.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s guilty of murder and robbery,” you explained as you tried to stay calm. Your voice was trembling and you tried to make your brother understand. “He plead guilty to killing a man and robbing him. I know that you seem to think that Jaebum is some kind of role model and I understand why you trust him because he can seem like a very kind and understanding person but that doesn’t change the fact that-”

“You don’t even know him,” Yugyeom snapped.

You stared at him. “What?”

“You don’t even know him. You’re just like all the other people in this town, noona, you judge Jaebum-hyung based on rumours and stories. He’s a good person. He was there for me when nobody else was there and he took care of me. He treated me like his own brother. You were gone. When’s the last time you called me, noona? You haven’t been home in two years. Did you ever even answer my calls while you were at uni? Did you ever bother to come home during break?”

Your stomach churned. “Yugyeom, I was busy-”

He scoffed. “The usual story.”

“I was!” you cried. You couldn’t take this anymore. You couldn’t take Yugyeom treating you like you’d done something wrong when all your struggles and suffering had been for him. “Do you think it’s been easy to get my accounting degree while working multiple jobs at the same time? I was exhausted! I’ve been working day and night in order to put myself through university and keep up with my studies to maintain my scholarship! Do you know why I do these things? Do you you know why I struggle so much? Because I want a better life for our family. I want to get a good job, to earn enough to pay off our debt and take you and Mom away from this stupid town! I want to earn enough for you to go to college!”

Yugyeom stared at you in disbelief. “Really? Is that what you tell yourself every night? That you left me here to rot for my benefit?”

Your hands trembled. “I didn’t leave you here to rot-”

Yugyeom laughed, a cold and empty laugh that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes were harsh when he stared at you. “I don’t know, noona. I don’t think you can have it both ways. You don’t get to leave me behind here and go off to your fancy university and live your life while claiming that you did it because you love me and care about me.”

“Yugyeom, I wanted you to be happy-”

“But I was unhappy!” he yelled at you suddenly. His face had turned red and you could see that his eyes had glazed over. He had evidently been holding this in for a long time. “I was unhappy when my sister left me behind in this stupid town, I was unhappy when she barely answered my calls or cared about my life. I was unhappy and I wanted you and you weren’t there for me, noona, so it doesn’t matter how much you sat there and wanted me to be happy because I wasn’t!”

You stared at him in shock. You suddenly realized how much pain Yugyeom was in. You realized how sheltered and adored and loved he had been until you left him behind to deal with his own life. How could you have been so stupid? How could you have thought that Yugyeom would be okay with you leaving him or that he would understand your reasons? He had been used to his older sister always being there for him and suddenly she had left. You wanted to reach out and hug your brother.

“I… I’m sorry.”

He bit his lip and shook his head. “Forget it.”

“Yugyeom, I really-”

“I don’t want to hear it, noona. I wanted to talk to you so many times but you never listened to me. You were always too busy. I don’t care if you wanted to earn money or pay off Dad’s debts or send me to college. We could have figured out ways to do that together. We could have worked as a team like we always did. You didn’t have to leave me here.”

Your voice cracked. “But-”

“You abandoned me and you seriously expect me to believe that you did it for my benefit,” Yugyeom reminded you shakily. His dark eyes were filled with pain. “Well, here’s the sad thing about your life, noona. I don’t believe that you really care about me and I’m not grateful. So you can do whatever you want now”

Yugyeom pushed the plate of chicken away and stormed upstairs.

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

Yugyeom was bleeding.

They had taken him behind the alleyway and beaten him up, the same way they had been doing every day since he had tried to leave the gang. He had imagined that joining the gang would be cool and that he would make some friends. He hadn’t expected to be handed a knife and ordered him to mug somebody on the street at night. He couldn’t do it. Yugyeom had never hurt anybody and he couldn’t start now. He had refused.

But there was no leaving the gang. Once you entered it was for life.

Lying the alleyway while his arm bled out and his legs screamed in pain, Yugyeom wondered if he had much of life left.

He limped into a corner behind the alleyway and managed to find a place to sit while he clutched his heavily bleeding arm. His teeth were gritted in pain. Yugyeom was growing used to it; the physical pain wasn’t as unbearable as the intense loneliness that he felt once the gang was done beating him up. Yugyeom had never felt so alone in his life. He couldn’t go home and tell his mother; she was already so weak and frail, what if she tried to help him and the gang hurt her as well? All of his friends at school had started to avoid him. All the teachers had labelled him a problematic student and given up on him.

And you. His noona, the one person who had always taken care of him and solved all his problems for him, was gone.

He missed you.

Yugyeom reached into his pocket and carefully pulled out the cellphone that you had given him. Your last goodbye present before you left him here in this horrible place. Your cellphone number was the only number saved in the contacts and he tentatively pressed call before holding it up to his phone.

It rang four times before you answered.

“Yugyeom?” your voice answered. Yugyeom wanted to cry upon hearing your gentle voice. He wanted to hug you and tell you how horrible things were, he wanted to beg you to come back. He wanted to tell you that he didn’t know what to do anymore. He couldn’t do this alone. He needed you.

“Noona,” he croaked out.

“Yugyeom, I’m at work. Can I call you back tomorrow? I have to finish my shift and then go write a paper by midnight,” your voice said hurriedly. You sounded busy, as though talking to him was a bother. You sounded tired. Yugyeom felt his heart sink.

He bit his lip. “O-okay.”

“Just text me if it’s something urgent, okay? I can’t let my boss catch me my on my phone. Good night!”

Yugyeom let the phone fall to his side and sniffled back the tears that had begun to form in his eyes. You were always busy. You were always tired. He had been trying to tell you how bad things were for weeks but you never seemed to want to listen. He held the phone loosely in his hand and then opened a new text message.

‘Noona,’ he typed slowly. ‘I don’t want to live anymore.’

Yugyeom stared at the message for a few moments. Then he deleted it and let his head fall back against the wall. The phone clattered to the ground and he closed his eyes. There was no escape. You wouldn’t come to save him.

This was his life now.

Yugyeom wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there bleeding. It was only when a soft hand gently shook him awake that he opened his eyes. He looked up blearily and saw an unfamiliar face; a broad-shouldered man with a sharp set jawline and kind eyes was helping him to his feet.

“Hey kid,” the man said quietly. “Stay with me, okay? Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

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

You stumbled out of the house, feeling numb.

You felt like somebody had turned your world upside down. It was as if you had been walking along a path only to find that you’d been going backwards, that you were further away from your destination than when you started. Like you were tired, worn-out and had exhausted all your energy only to find that you’d been going the wrong way.

Now you didn’t have any energy left.

It was too late.

Yugyeom hated you.

Your feet carried you slowly down the dusty street. This town had always been small but you suddenly realized how dead it looked. It was a miserable place full of miserable people. It had always been. You had never been happy here. There were only two people in this entire world that had ever made you happy and you had somehow lost them both.

Jaebum had betrayed you and you had betrayed Yugyeom.

You passed by Mark’s bakery- it was closed, he always closed early in the evenings- and found yourself slowly walking towards the old gas station and Jaebum’s mechanic store. It had belonged to a friendly old man back when you were in high school. The old man must have died if Jaebum owned it now.

Jaebum.

Why had you blamed him? You were filled with a sudden intense, disgust for yourself as you looked at the old mechanic’s shed and saw the flickering light on in the back. Jaebum was evidently still working. He had been the one to take care of Yugyeom and give him a job while you were gone. He had taken responsibility for your young and innocent brother while you had been off in your own little world.

Jaebum was like that. Even when you had been together he had always done everything in his power to make you happy. His presence was magnetic. He was responsible and affectionate and had a heart of gold. He cared.

You missed Jaebum like crazy.

Your knees felt weak so you sat down on the sidewalk and pulled your knees up to your chest. You buried your head in your arms and held back the sobs that racked your body. You felt alone. You understood how Yugyeom must have felt now, dealing with your sick mother and having nobody to turn to when he was weak. You had failed him.

You had failed him terribly.

You heard the sound of footsteps approaching and slowly lifted your head. Jaebum had just stepped out of the shop and was walking towards you. He looked hesitant; his eyes were filled with concern but when they met yours, he finished the journey.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly. “Didn’t Yugyeom come home?”

“He did,” you mumbled.

“Are you all right?”

“No.”

“Do you want to come inside?” Jaebum gently held his hand out to you. You saw his hand; it was rougher than it had been back in high school. There were calluses on his fingers and smudges of oil on his thumb. He had evidently been working hard. You looked up at Jaebum as the tears slid down your cheeks. You felt small and weak. Jaebum had always been there for you when you felt weak. He had been your only source of strength during the most difficult time of your life.

You missed him.

“Okay,” you whispered as you slowly reached for his hand. “Okay.”

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

“Hey, you. Tall kid. Get under the car and clean up that grease for me,” Jinyoung ordered.

Yugyeom pouted.

Everyone working at the mechanics’ shed had almost instantly started to welcome him; some because they were fond of how sweet and easy-going Yugyeom was and others because they were scared of Jaebum and what he might do if they didn’t treat Yugyeom well.

Park Jinyoung was fond of Yugyeom because he liked to make him do all his dirty work.

“Hyung, isn’t that your car?” Yugyeom wondered.

Jinyoung narrowed his eyes. “Are you talking back to me? Are you forgetting who the boss is here?”

Yugyeom opened his mouth to respond cheekily but he was cut off by the appearance of Jaebum himself, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. Jaebum chuckled as he tossed the rag on a table nearby.

“The boss is me, Jinyoung. I put the money into this place. And I say that it’s your car so you need to clean up the grease yourself. Don’t keep bullying the kid.”

Jinyoung looked offended. “I’d like to remind you that I’m the one who manages the customers around here. Nobody would be sending their cars to us if my pretty face wasn’t sitting at the front desk. I bring some life to this place and you should be grateful.”

“I am grateful,” Jaebum replied simply. “Now clean your own car.”

Jinyoung made a face behind Jaebum’s back as the latter walked out of the mechanic’s shop. Yugyeom sniggered gleefully, but fell silent as soon as Jinyoung turned his sharp glare towards him.

“Don’t be so quick to laugh at me, kid. You’re lucky Jaebum puts up with you. He’s usually pretty hard on new people but for some reason he thinks you're cute. There’s something fishy about this whole situation. I’m still trying to figure it out.”

Jackson lifted his head from behind one of the car engines with a grin. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s because he looks a little bit like Chocolate Eyes.”

Yugyeom perked up. “Chocolate Eyes? What’s that?”

“Shhh, we don’t talk about Chocolate Eyes in front of Jaebum anymore. Not since she left, anyway.”

“But who is Chocolate Eyes?” Yugyeom demanded.

Jackson checked the door furtively to make sure that Jaebum had really left the shed before he turned back to Yugyeom. “Chocolate Eyes is our nickname for this girl that Jaebum was in love with before he went to prison. He used to write all these sweet love songs about her. Jaebum is usually a calm and logical person but when it came to her, he always threw all logic out of the window. I think he would have cut off his own hand for her if she’d just asked.”

Yugyeom gaped. “Wow. I can’t imagine how awesome she must have been for Jaebum-hyung to fall in love with her.”

Jinyoung tsk-ed. “Yeah, but what’s the point? She left him.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes love makes you do crazy things,” Jackson mused with a frown. “You forget all reason and rationality. That was what happened to Jaebum. He killed a man for her and she never forgave him. She came to the courtroom and watched him plead guilty, then she told him that she never wanted to see him again and left.”

Yugyeom’s eyes widened. “But why did he kill the man-”

“Okay, that’s enough gossiping about Jaebum’s life!” Jinyoung decided with a frown. “There is grease under my car and someone needs to clean it! Kim Yugyeom. We don’t pay you to sit around. Until the day you start bearing a resemblance to MY long lost lover, you’re going to have to pull your weight around here.”

Yugyeom pouted. “Yes, hyung...”

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

The mechanic’s shed was empty because everyone had already gone home for the night.

Jaebum turned on a few lights so that the room was brighter and pulled up a chair next to Jinyoung’s desk for you. You sat down on it shakily and watched Jaebum go into a small pantry off to the side of the shed. He returned with two mugs of hot tea and pressed one into your hands. The warmth of the mug returned some feeling to your fingers and you stared up at Jaebum helplessly.

What am I doing? you wondered briefly.

“Did Yugyeom apologize to you?” Jaebum asked quietly.

You closed your eyes in shame. “He hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s been through a lot and he’s upset that you weren’t around to help him deal with his problems. He joined a gang and they wouldn’t let him leave. You know how dangerous those things are. He was being beaten up by them regularly when I found him. Yugyeom is an innocent kid, and he didn’t know how to handle the situation.”

You felt sick. “Oh god.”

“It happens to a lot of kids in this town.”

“Yeah, but Yugyeom’s my brother,” you whispered.

Your hands trembled and Jaebum carefully took the tea mug away from you. You looked up at him and suddenly realized that, in this moment, you hated yourself so much more than you hated Jaebum. You were the one person Yugyeom had trusted and you'd left him behind and tried to blame Jaebum for your mistakes.

“How could I have let this happen to him? Why didn’t I just make the time to call every now and then? How did- how did I not even know that things had gotten this bad?”

“You were busy. It can’t have been easy to put yourself through college and work so hard.”

“It wasn’t,” you whispered. You squeezed your eyes shut and a tear escaped. “It was hell. It is hell. I barely slept three hours a night because I’d work night shifts and have to go to class the next morning. I would have given up long ago if I didn’t keep thinking that I couldn’t let down Yugyeom and my mother. I went through all of this for them but I destroyed them in the process. I didn't… I didn't mean to leave him!”

“He doesn’t know that. He just missed you.”

“I miss him too,” you choked out.

You couldn’t hold back the sobs that were rising up in your throat. Your heart felt like it was going to rip out of your chest and you pressed your hands to your face while you sobbed. How could you have been so ignorant? Jaebum sat silently while you cried your eyes out. There was nothing he could say to help; you had bottled up your emotions and you needed to release them. He simply watched you quietly and wondered why the world had dealt someone as soft-hearted as you such a bad deal.

Once the sobs subsided, Jaebum handed you a tissue. You took it reluctantly and then looked up at Jaebum. He was watching you with a pained expression on his face.

“Why was he all bloody last night?” you managed to ask finally. “It really wasn’t you who hurt him?”

Jaebum sighed. “We paid off the gang to stop attacking him but sometimes they still rough him up when they catch him alone. Last night was one of those nights. Yugyeom’s gotten a lot better at defending himself, though, and he has my number on speed dial. He calls when he’s in trouble so we can go get him. You don’t need to worry. It doesn’t happen too often.”

You glared at him.

“Once is too often.”

“He’ll be fine,” Jaebum promised you. His voice was gentle. It shouldn't have been and you hated how much it comforted you. “Yugyeom might not be the little kid you remember anymore, but sometimes life throws circumstances at people and it changes them. We all have to toughen up. Yugyeom happened to learn that the hard way, just like you and I did."

You stared at Jaebum. There was a kindness in his eyes that you had missed, a kindness that you found so difficult to trust because you had been betrayed by it before. Jaebum had always been soft at heart. But you had also seen this soft-hearted man handcuffed and taken to prison. You had watched him stand in front of a judge and plead guilty to murder in order to get a lighter sentence.

Somewhere behind that soft heart was a monster.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked quietly. “Helping Yugyeom? Why did you take him in and pay off the gang to leave him alone?”

Jaebum blinked at you calmly. “You know why I did it.”

“Out of kindness?”

“No.” Jaebum’s lips twisted into a reluctant smile. “Do you really want to hear me say it?”

"Yeah."

"I did it because I love you," he told you quietly. "I did it because I promised you once that I would never let anything happen to your family and I wanted to keep my promise."

You stared at him. Even after all this time, it made your heart leap to hear Jaebum say so confidently that he loved you. His voice was gentle and it sounded so honest and sincere. Jaebum had always been honest.

Until the day he wasn't.

"I figured our promises went down the drain when you were convicted for murder and robbery," you told him bluntly. It was true. No matter how kind Jaebum's eyes were or how sincere his words, nobody could ever erase the memory of watching the man you loved be taken away in handcuffs as a violent criminal. That would stay with you forever.

Jaebum leaned back and nodded. His eyes were dull and unsurprised, like he had already resigned himself to the truth.

"I thought you would say that. I don't expect you to trust me. But I'm still the man you loved," he whispered. He took a deep breath. "I understand if you hate that I'm a criminal but I have only ever wanted you to be happy."

"Did you really go there to rob that man?" you asked shakily. You wondered if Jaebum would ever tell you the truth, or if there was even any truth left to tell. "I saw the victim's face in the papers. He used to come to your dance battles sometimes. Did you find out that he had that money and go there to rob him?"

Jaebum's jaw tightened. "No."

"Then why did you go there?"

"You don't want to know," he replied darkly. "Trust me. You're better off not knowing what happened that night. Hate me all you want, since it's true that I killed him."

"Don't you feel any remorse?" you whispered.

Jaebum shook his head. "No. I would do it again."

You stared at Jaebum. Despite all that had happened, some part of you desperately wanted to believe him. You wanted to think that the man you had loved had had a justified reason for robbing a man and murdering him in cold-blood.

You wanted to know if he had really done it for you.

"Then tell me. How bad can it be? Tell me what happened."

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

"Are you sure about this, Jaebum?” Jinyoung asked nervously.

“I need the money. She needs the money or those goons will never leave her alone,” Jaebum said firmly. His jaw was clenched. He had made up his mind and there was nothing anybody could do to change it. Seeing you cry after you’d been threatened by the moneylender’s cronies had terrified Jaebum.

He wasn’t going to wait to lose you.

“But Jaebum, it’s your music. They’re going to pass it off as their own and they won’t give you a share in the copyrights. You wanted to start your own career. How are you going to do that if you sell everything you’ve worked on to that fake-ass musician? Do you really need to get involved with people like that?” Jinyoung demanded. He could see how emotional Jaebum was and he felt like it was his responsibility to stop his friend from making an irrational decision.

Jaebum took a deep breath and frowned. “I appreciate your concern, Jinyoung, but I need you to shut up right now.”

“You’re even going to sell him Chocolate Eyes?”

“Yes.”

“There’s something extremely shady about this. What if he’s not willing to leave it as a one-time transaction? What if he wants you to keep working for him and he keeps stealing your music? There’s something fishy about these people. Jaebum, let’s sit down and think about this and do some research before you walk into their den and hand over all of your work to them-”

“I don’t have the time to sit down, those goons could hurt her any moment-”

Jaebum was interrupted by Jackson. The normally loud and talkative boy had been silent ever since Jaebum announced his intention to hand over all of his music in the form of ghostwriting for some money. Jackson reached into his pocket and pressed something into Jaebum’s hand; it was a knife.

“Be careful,” Jackson whispered. “These guys can be dangerous.”

Jaebum nodded.

His backpack felt heavy as he went to the address written on the slip of paper. This strange man had approached him at one of the dance battles; he had repeatedly asked Jaebum to sell him all of his music but Jaebum had refused. He had imagined that he could start his own producing career once he graduated and selling all of his work hadn’t seemed like the best way to start.

But now your life was more important.

The building was dark and dimly lit. Jaebum had to walk through alleyways and ask a few unpleasant people for directions before he finally managed to find the apartment number. It was dirty. He knocked on the door hesitantly.

“Who is it?” a voice asked gruffly from the other side.

“It’s-it’s Jaebum. We talked on the phone? About the music?” he called out.

The door swung open. The man was standing on the other side and he had a huge smile on his face; he welcomed Jaebum into the apartment and clapped him on the back heartily. “Jaebum! Come on in. I heard about your situation. Don’t worry, I’ve got the money ready for you. Here’s my assistant. Hey! Bring the kid the money. Do you have all the music?”

Jaebum swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”

A large and well-built man came out of the adjoining room with a bag. He unzipped it and showed Jaebum that it was filled with currency; Jaebum had never seen so much money in his life. His hands were shaking as he reached into his own backpack and pulled out his music notebooks.

“I-I put everything together here,” Jaebum explained quietly.

“All of it?”

“Yeah, everything I’ve ever written.”

The man nodded sympathetically as he took the notebook and then handed Jaebum the bag of cash. “You’re doing a good thing, kid. I’m sure your girlfriend will be happy about you helping her. You said that the moneylenders are threatening her because of her father’s debt? Poor girl. She must have been so terrified.”

Jaebum swallowed. “Uh-yeah.”

“Okay, kid. You stay in touch and let me know if you ever write some more stuff that you want to sell me, yeah? Shut the door behind you when you leave.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Jaebum’s hands closed around the bag filled with money and he quickly transferred it into his own backpack. Then he hurried out of the apartment. He was about to shut the front door when he suddenly wondered if he should have counted the money out in front of them or even checked to see if it was legitimate. What if they were cheating him because he was just a teenager? Jaebum turned around to go back when he heard voices drifting out of the next room.

“.... stupid kid. I bet he doesn’t even realize how much quality music like this is worth. I’m almost wondering if we should let him live so he can write more stuff for us.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Do you think that pretty little girlfriend of his inspired all these songs? I’m kind of curious about her too. Maybe you should go find her. We’ll have some fun with her once you’ve gotten the money back from the kid. Once he’s dead I guess there won’t be anyone left for her to turn to. I love helpless girls, they’re the best kind.”

Jaebum’s heart clenched with fear.

Fuck. What had he gotten himself into? Fuck.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Don’t let the kid get too far with our money. Finish him and bring me my cash back.”

Jaebum heard the sound of footsteps and ran; he sprinted to the end of the corridor where a supply closet was half open and thrust himself inside. His heartbeat raced and he held his breath as the watched the large bodyguard walk past him through the crack of the door.

Once he was gone, Jaebum slumped back against the wall and sank to the floor. Fuck. What was he going to do? This man was out to kill him and he was going to hurt you too. What had he gotten himself into? How was he going to escape this? Even if he managed to survive the bodyguard and make off with the money, there was no way to stop them from hurting you. Jaebum banged his fists against the wall in desperation. Something fell out of his pocket and clattered to the floor.

The knife.

Jaebum’s fingers closed around it.

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

“The lawyer said that if I plead guilty and show remorse, the judge would consider my young age and I could get away with a lighter sentence,” Jaebum explained quietly. “Otherwise I would have been locked up for years. There was no way to prove that the cash had been given to me by the man so they presumed I must have stolen it. I really wanted to tell people the truth about what happened. But it wasn’t worth spending a decade in prison.”

You had no words to say. As you looked up at Jaebum, you finally saw him for what he really was. Not a monster or a criminal, but a scared boy who had done something foolish in a moment of fear. No matter how much life hardened Jaebum or how brave he was, that part of him was still there on the inside.

You felt sick.

“You must have been so scared,” you whispered.

He bit his lip. “It’s okay. I was an idiot. I should never have trusted that man in the first place. It was my own desperation and foolishness that got me into that situation.”

“But-”

“Please don’t pity me,” Jaebum told you firmly. “That’s the last thing I want to hear from you.”

Your head was spinning and you had to press your fingers to your temple in order to collect your thoughts. How could you have misunderstood Jaebum so much? How could you have been so quick to turn on a man who loved you and who had put himself in danger for you? You felt pathetic. You had abandoned Yugyeom and misunderstood him the same way.

Were you capable of doing anything right? Or were you bound to keep hurting the people you loved because of your foolishness?

“I-I never even… I never even came to see you when you were in prison,” you remembered miserably. “Because I thought you really went there to rob that man, I thought you had lied to me about not getting involved in anything illegal and because you’d been acting so shady about the whole thing after those goons threatened me-��

“I know,” he replied.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t say that. I know you were scared and I know you felt betrayed,” Jaebum said. He carefully reached out and placed his hand over yours. His warm fingers felt familiar as his thumb gently stroked your palm. Jaebum’s touch had always been comforting. “Life thrusts a lot of things at us and we react how we feel we need to at the time. It’s okay. I’m fine. You’re fine. Yugyeom is fine too, and that’s all that matters.”

You bit your lip. “How can you be so optimistic?”

“Because I want to be happy.”

“Are you?”

Jaebum shrugged. “Sometimes I am, sometimes I’m not. But right now with you in front of me, I think I’m the happiest I’ve been in a while.”

"I want to be happy too," you mumbled.

Jaebum nodded.

"Don't worry. You will be."

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

Jaebum insisted on taking you home.

As you walked down the street with him quietly, his hand loosely holding yours, you were reminded of all the times you had done this before. You were reminded of how loved and safe you had always felt with Jaebum. How difficult it had been to say goodbye to him at the end of each day.

You missed that feeling.

"Don't worry about Yugyeom too much," Jaebum reassured you quietly. "He was angry and he needed to let it all out but now that he has, I'm sure he'll remember how much he misses you. He used to talk about you all the time. He can’t possibly forget how much he loves you.”

“He seems to love you more.”

Jaebum bit his lip. “He’s just a loving kid. That’s how he is.”

You glanced up at Jaebum and for a brief moment, you wondered what might have happened to your family and Yugyeom if he hadn’t been there to take care of them. If Jaebum hadn’t rescued Yugyeom from the gang and been an older brother to him, if he hadn’t been around to pay for your mother’s medication. Jaebum had fixed all the problems that were yours to handle and you couldn’t understand why he did all these things while you had written him off as a criminal and a monster.

“You should get some sleep,” Jaebum told you as you both approached your house. “You need to relax. Everything will be fine.”

You glanced down at your intertwined hands.

“Everything’s only fine because you take care of it,” you mumbled. It was slowly sinking in exactly how much you owed Jaebum, how much he had done with the sole purpose of making your life happier. How was anyone capable of such selfless love? Why had he chosen you of all people to care for? You looked up at him and frowned. “Why do you keep taking care of everything?”

Jaebum looked down at you quietly. “I don’t know.”

“I hate how much I need you,” you told him.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, because you both knew the truth in that statement. No matter how much you denied it, the fact was was right there in front of your eyes.

You needed Jaebum.

You weren’t sure which one of you moved first, but it was probably you who wrapped your arms around Jaebum and wove your fingers tightly onto the fabric of his jacket. You needed to feel him close to you. You needed him to reassure you that everything would be okay, that even if you couldn’t handle life he would be there to help you through it. You needed to feel safe and the only time you felt that way was when you were in Lim Jaebum’s arms.

Jaebum had never imagined that he would get to hold you again. When you buried your face into his chest he was reminded of the cold nights in prison thinking about you, wondering where you were and how much you hated him. He remembered thinking that he would never get to hold you like this again, that he would never get to feel you in his arms once more. He would never get to see your beautiful eyes smiling back at him sweetly.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You leaned up and kissed him. It was a soft kiss; filled with hesitation and relief and gratitude and trust, and all the other wild mixture of emotions that were spinning through your mind at the moment. Jaebum’s lips captured yours tentatively. He didn’t want to lose you. He didn’t want to push you so far when you were so overwhelmed. He pecked your lips softly and brought his hands up to capture your face in them as he looked down at you.

“We don’t have to do this now,” he told you softly. “We can take this slow and talk about-”

“Noona?”

You ripped yourself away from Jaebum at the sound of Yugyeom’s voice. Your younger brother was standing on the front porch and staring at the both of you with wide eyes. You felt a sudden shiver down your spine.

Jaebum spoke first. “Yugyeom-”

“I’ve been trying to call you for over an hour, hyung,” Yugyeom said. His voice sounded thick and hoarse; like he had been crying. His ears were flushed red. “But you weren’t answering your phone. I thought you must have been working. You were fucking around with my sister?”

You flinched. “Yugyeom,I can explain-”

“Yeah, please do,” he snapped. His voice was trembling as he stepped closer to the both of you. He sounded angry. “Because barely twenty-four hours ago you were calling Jaebum-hyung a criminal and now you’re messing around with him? What sort of fucked up logic is that, noona? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I-”

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Yugyeom. We’ve known each other for a long time now,” Jaebum explained calmly. He took a deep breath. “I knew your noona long before I met you. We used to date in high school.”

Yugyeom’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“I’m sorry I never said anything,” Jaebum replied. “But they were painful and personal memories to me so I didn’t like talking about them.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yugyeom…”

Yugyeom’s dark eyes had widened in horror. “Oh my god, noona, you’re Chocolate Eyes. You’re the girl Jaebum-hyung used to be in love with who left him after he got arrested. But that means…” he turned and looked at Jaebum. Something behind his eyes seemed to break. “That means you knew that I was her brother.”

Jaebum hesitated. “I-yes…”

“So all this time,” Yugyeom began slowly. “All this time, when you rescued me from the gang and when you gave me a job and all those times you told me that I could trust you and count on you, you weren’t doing those things for me. You didn’t do any of that for me. You took me in and cared for me because you used to fuck around with my sister. I thought the world of you but you just looked at me and saw her, didn’t you?” he cried. Tears were brimming in his eyes.

“What? Yugyeom, no-”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. His dark gaze suddenly looked ashamed. “I guess I’m always the burden.”

Your heart broke. “No-”

You reached out to wrap your arms around Yugyeom, to hold your little brother tightly and reassure him that he was not a burden and that you would always love him more than anything in the world.

But Yugyeom shoved your arms away roughly and gave you one last heartbroken look before he ran down the street. You started to run after him but Jaebum silently held you back. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly to his chest.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Give him some space. He’ll come back.”

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

“Noona,” Yugyeom asked suddenly. “Noona, am I annoying?”

You barely glanced up from your homework. Yugyeom was always asking you stupid questions while you were trying to study and you were too busy struggling to find the right formula for the algebra problem.

“Yes, you’re very annoying,” you told him simply.

Yugyeom bit his lip.

“Oh. Okay.”

You lifted your head and turned around to look at him, immediately sensing something wrong. That wasn’t Yugyeom’s usual curious tone. He sounded upset. You saw him sitting in the middle of your bed while picking at the loose strings of the sheets miserably. You sighed and closed your books. You sat next to him and patted his mushroom-shaped hair.

“Did somebody call our Yugyeom-ie annoying?” you asked.

He pouted. “No.”

“You can’t lie to me. Noona knows everything.”

“... Yes,” he admitted. His lower lip stuck out in a small pout. “This girl at school said I was annoying. She told me I was being too loud and to shut up.”

You frowned. How dare some stupid girl tell your adorable brother that he was annoying? Kids were meant to be loud anyway. “You should have told her to shut up too.”

Yugyeom smiled sheepishly. “Really?”

“Sure. Who isn’t loud during playtime? She was being a…” you cleared your throat before you used an unpleasant word in front of him. “Well. Not a nice person.”

“But you didn’t answer my question. Do I annoy you?”

“Sure you do,” you told him lightly. “You annoy me all the time. But that’s okay, because family are the people who you can annoy but they’ll still love you. You might be annoyed by what they DO, but you’ll still love THEM, you, know? I’ll always love you no matter how much you annoy me. Because you’re my brother and that’s how things are.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“But the girl at school won’t, right?”

You chuckled. “Yugyeom, do you have a crush on this girl?”

His ears turned red. “What? No!”

“Ooooooh, Yugyeom had a crush on a girl,” you sang playfully, poking him in the shoulder. Yugyeom’s face slowly blushed red and he shoved at you before hurrying out of your bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him. You smiled and turned back to your homework.

You would always love Yugyeom.

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Yugyeom didn’t come home that night.

You had to go back to university in two days but you couldn’t bring yourself to even think about packing. You spent most of the night awake and terrified that Yugyeom was roaming around on the streets somewhere alone, that the gang who was after his life would find him and hurt him. He wasn’t answering your phone calls or Jaebum’s.

In the early hours of the morning, Jaebum got a call from Bambam saying that Yugyeom had arrived at his place and that he was upset, but safe. He didn’t want to talk to either of you.

“It’s time to take your medicines,” you told your mother quietly as you entered her bedroom. The old woman was still lying in bed and looking as frail as ever. She had become a shell of the person that she used to be and you could see that something in her eyes was broken. You didn’t want to ask her why. You squeezed her hands. “Are you okay, Mom?”

She took a deep breath and looked at you calmly. “I’m sorry I’m such a burden.”

Your throat felt tight. “Mom…”

“I should have taken better care of you both but I can barely get out of bed. I know that the only reason Yugyeom has been able to afford my medicines is because Jaebum gives him money. I know that you’ve been having such a hard time at university because you need to work so much. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do better. I’m sorry.”

You squeezed her hand as tears blurred your vision. “Mom, you did fine.”

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll last.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“You know I love you, right? And Yugyeom too. I’m so proud of him. I’m proud of you both.”

“I know. He knows and I know, it’s okay. You’re going to be fine,” you promised her, although you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure if she would be fine or if Yugyeom would be fine or if you would be fine. You weren’t sure of anything.

You just wanted it all to end.

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

“I don’t know if I can go back,” you admitted shakily.

Jaebum sat on your bed quietly as he watched you pack. You had already overstayed your vacation and there were classes, assignments and papers you had to write in order to finish your graduation. Everything was waiting there but your heart wouldn’t let you leave.

“You have to graduate,” Jaebum reminded you quietly.

“I-I could take a semester off,” you mumbled as you placed a t-shirt half-heartedly in the suitcase. You swallowed and looked up at him with a frown. “But that would delay my graduation and it might mean that I would lose my scholarship. I don’t think I could afford to pay tuition. What should I do, Jaebum?”

He bit his lip. “You should go finish your degree.”

“Still? Even though things have gotten this bad in my absence?” you wondered. You pressed your fingers to your temples. “Then Yugyeom will never forgive me. And Mom… she keeps talking about how she might die soon and it’s scaring me, Jaebum.”

“She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure she gets the medical treatment she needs.”

“But-”

“You can’t abandon your education now. What will become of the last two years of your hard work?” Jaebum asked you with a frown. He placed an arm around your shoulder and squeezed you comfortingly. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much. It’s all okay.”

“You keep saying that but things only keep getting worse, Jaebum-”

The doorbell rang. Your eyes widened in surprise and Jaebum gestured for you to stay put while he went to check out who it was. You sat down and pressed your fingers to your temples again. It was too much to hope that Yugyeom had come back. He had been staying at Bambam’s and had refused to talk to either you or Jaebum for days. Your felt nauseous as you continued to toss clothes into your suitcase. Jaebum was taking a long time to return.

There was a sharp knock on the bedroom door.

“Hey,” Jaebum peeked into your room with a small smile. “Look who’s here.”

He stepped aside to reveal Yugyeom standing behind him. Your eyes widened in relief at the sight of your little brother safe and unhurt. “Yugyeom!” you cried. He looked a little thin and his fists were clenched at his side. He was staring at the floor but you hurried over to him and cupped his cheeks. “Yugyeom, are you okay? I’ve been so worried about you! How could you not even answer our calls?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“You know you’re not a burden, right? You’ve never been a burden to me,” you blurted out rapidly. You had to blink back your tears. “You’re my family. How could you be a burden? I love you so much. There’s nobody in the world I care about more and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, noona made a mistake, I’m so sorry.”

Yugyeom didn’t say anything. He merely stood there silently, staring at the floor. Jaebum gave you a soft smile and then squeezed Yugyeom’s shoulder.

“I’m going downstairs so that you both can talk,” he told you.

Jaebum left and to your surprise, Yugyeom quietly entered your room and sat on your bed. His dark eyes looked around at your suitcase and clothes laid out everywhere silently. His hands were clasped in his lap tightly. You didn’t know what to say to him.

“Are you leaving for university?” Yugyeom asked you after a long and painful silence.

You bit your lip and looked down at the suitcase. It was only half-packed. You sat next to Yugyeom and quickly took both of his hands in yours.

“Do you want me to stay?” you demanded. “I can stay. Just say the word and I’ll stay, Yugyeom.”

He shook his head. “No, you should go.”

“O-okay.”

He took a deep breath. “Noona?”

“Yeah?”

Yugyeom turned to look at you and you saw tears in his dark eyes. For a moment, he suddenly looked like your adorable little brother again. There was pain and hurt in his eyes but there was also a tiny bit of hope. Something inside of him had given up.

“Noona, can you take me with you?” he choked out.

Your eyes widened and you nodded instantly. You threw your arms around Yugyeom and hugged him tightly, leaving him breathless. “Of course,” you said without missing a beat. “Of course I’ll take you with me. Let’s all go together. We’ll-we’ll find a better hospital for Mom and you can go to a better school. It might be hard for a while because I have to finish university but we’ll find some way to make money until I get a regular job-”

His arms slowly and carefully wrapped around you. “We can… we can sell this house, right?” he asked timidly.

You paused and then nodded. “Yeah, we can do that.”

“I don’t really care if we sell the house as long as the three of us are together,” he admitted quietly.

You laughed and nodded. Of course. Of course. What did the house matter? What was important that your family was all in one place. You decided that anything would be fine as long as your family was happy. Tears slipped out of your eyes as you fondly stroked Yugyeom’s hair and felt his own racking sobs.

“We’ll be fine,” you promised. And for the first time, you actually believed what you were saying. “We’ll be fine.”

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Epilogue (Five Years Later)

“Noona, she threw up on me again,” Yugyeom complained.

He entered the kitchen holding your crying one-year old daughter at arm’s length while the front of his t-shirt was covered in baby puke. You turned off the stove and groaned. This was the third time this week. You took the crying child from him and gently rocked her in order to console her while you cleaned the puke off her face at the sink.

“I told you not to toss her in the air!” you scolded your brother.

“But she likes it. She always giggles,” Yugyeom defended himself.

“And then she throws up on you and since you are a complete man-child incapable of doing your own laundry, I have to wash both your clothes and hers and whatever else the puke got on. What are you going to do when you have your own children, Yugyeom? Are you going to be this careless?” you scolded him angrily while the baby wailed. You held to your chest and rocked her. “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, sweetie, Uncle Yugyeom is just bad. It’s okay.”

Yugyeom pouted sadly. “I’ll go change.”

You frowned. “Go on, then.”

He was just about to step out of the kitchen when the sound of the front door opening caused him to stop in his tracks. Jaebum entered the kitchen calmly, taking off his jacket while frowning at you all.

“Why is the house always so noisy?” he complained.

You rolled your eyes. “Ask Yugyeom.”

Yugyeom merely pouted and slouched out of the kitchen in order to go and clean himself off. You sighed and glanced at the dinner cooking on the stove before realizing that it was about to overcook. You quickly handed the crying child to your husband. “Can you hold her for a second? Dinner is about to burn.”

Jaebum blinked. “Uh-sure-”

“God, I have to do everything around here.”

“Actually, I have something to tell you. Can we talk for a minute?” Jaebum asked you hopefully. He was looking at you eagerly but you were too busy stirring at the dinner on the stove. You had a lot to do; you had to finish dinner and then take a shower and then free yourself for a conference call in the evening with some work colleagues-

“Can it wait?” you asked. “I’m busy.”

“This is kind of big, actually.”

“I know but I’ve been so overwhelmed all day and now stupid Yugyeom had to go and get puke all over himself again so I’ll have to do a round of laundry before bed.”

“I’ll do the laundry. Just listen.”

You turned around and raised an eyebrow. He was holding your baby in one arm (she had miraculously stopped crying) and the other hand was holding something book-shaped. You squinted at it more closely and realized that it was a music album. You stared at him and your eyes widened.

“Oh my god. It was today? The album release?” you asked in shock. You felt terrible. “Jaebum, I completely forgot-”

Jaebum smiled and opened the album to show you. It had taken a lot of time for people to accept him in the city; his prison record didn’t do him any favours but he hadn’t given up on his dream. One month ago, Jaebum had signed a contract with a large music company who had hired him as a producer for some famous hip-hop artists. He flipped open the track list and right there at the top, with the lyrics and production credited to Lim Jaebum was the song.

Chocolate Eyes.

You beamed at your husband. Jaebum’s own eyes were shining and he chuckled when your daughter squealed in delight and reached for the album with her tiny little fists. He put her down on the floor and gave her the album to sit down and play with before turning to you.

“What do you think?” Jaebum asked you hopefully.

You kissed him softly.

“I think I love you,” you told him with a smile.

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430 notes · View notes

vorish-musing · 5 years ago

Text

A Night They Won’t Forget

Here’s another IT Chapter Two Story! Sorry this took me so long, I just wanted to make this perfect for y’all!

Summary: This is the first time Richie has eaten someone, and boy is it a wild ride, with a slight surprise for y’all ;)

Note: This story contains G/t, Soft, somewhat unaware, Non-Fatal vore, and if you don’t like it, please skip this story.

Last note: This takes place before IT Chapter Two, but when they’re all adults.

Warnings: Fearplay, Digestion mention (Doesn’t happen), Cursing, some pain, nothing fatal.

Richie took another drink from his glass of whiskey he was holding, he sat at his desk in his dressing room, trying to compose himself before he got on stage. As he poured another cup for himself, he grabbed some chips from a bowl close by.

“Why now?” he spoke quietly to himself “why couldn’t this be after the show.” he took deep breaths, his stomach twisting in pain. He tried grabbing more chips, but it never worked. It never worked.

He leaned his head down, his forehead on the edge of the desk, he stared at his feet on the ground. He just had to let it pass. Just like every other time this happened. He just hated how much it hurt this time.

Ever since Richie could remember, he had these… cravings. They happened every once and awhile, and they were the worst. No matter what he did, they would never go away. He would eat until he was nauseous, drink until he blacked out, and he would smoke weed until he threw up. He just had to let this pass. That's all he could do.

A knocking at the door brought him out of his headspace, sitting upright like nothing was wrong. A young man in his mid to late twenties opened the door. He had messy brown hair, and eyes that looked terrified. Yep, definitely an intern. He looked frantic opening the door, only to slightly compose himself seeing Richie, who felt bad for the kid.

The man spoke with a soft, nervous tone “uh… you’re on in five Mr. Tozier.” he looked back down at his sheet, crossing something off.

Richie just chuckled “Mr. Tozier? Really?” he spoke sarcastically. The man the intern immediately backed down hearing this, thinking he did something wrong. “Just call me Richie, Kid.”

The intern turned a bright red, smiling sweetly, “sorry…”

“Don’t worry about that kid, you’re boss probably scared you shitless about the ‘talents’ that go on the stage, right?” he gestured to himself as he said talents, clearly making a joke.

The man laughed “yeah” he was about to say another thing but looked at his watch once more “oh shit I have to run, sorry.”

“Again, don’t worry about...it.” he slowed his speaking, the hunger hitting him once more like a punch to the gut. The man was already closing the door, not noticing Richie go down.

That was another thing. When he would look at people, he would get hungry, which freaked him out the most. He didn’t know why. It was like the craving was for them, but that couldn’t be possible, it was impossible for him to go through with it, let alone gross for even thinking about it.

‘Just keep drinking, you’ll get through this’

He couldn’t remember getting on the stage, or the show itself, he just heard people laugh, and knew he was getting through it. His head was in another place though, he was keeping the pain down as much as possible, masking groans as coughs and speaking louder when his stomach would make noise.

“Thank you everyone for coming, I don’t usually get to say that outside of bed, I’m Richie Tozier, goodnight New York!” he walked off the stage as fast as possible, the crowd clapping him off. As he passed the crew someone handed him another glass of Whiskey, which he greedily took and downed in an instant, handing the glass back, cringing as the alcohol burned his throat.

“Richie that was perfect, the crowd loved it!” his manager spoke, “Now I know you’re not feeling well, so I’ll let you get a good rest tonight and see you tomorrow before the next show huh?”

‘Yeah Whatever.” he waved off his manager, making a beeline for the back exit, so nobody could see him, and he could get fresh air. He opened the back doors, his manager calling for him once more before the doors slammed shut.

Richie slumped against the wall, taking deep breaths and trying to compose himself. He held his stomach tightly, it had never been this bad before, why now?! Maybe he needed an ambulance? Maybe it wasn’t just the cravings he was feeling, is this what starvation feels like?!

“Oh shit”

Richie jumped at the new voice, turning his head around to see a man around his age standing there. The man had dark brown curly hair, and eyes that were almost recognizable. Richie definitely recognized the man, but he couldn’t remember who he was… weird.

“Sorry…” the man spoke, “I didn’t know anyone was back here I was just…” the two made eye contact, and the man's eyes widened, “Oh shit… you’re Richie Tozier, if this isn’t weird to say, I loved your show tonight”

Richie smiled through the pain, he would rather not be speaking to someone when he was like this, but he always liked talking to fans. “Thanks man.” he sighed ““Sorry dude, I’d love to talk but I’m not feeling--”

And there was another punch to his stomach, he lurched over for a second, it seemed to hurt more with this man around. His vision became very fuzzy, all he could focus on was this man in front of him, who was clearly saying something that he couldn’t process.

Richie’s stomach growled softly, he cringed as thoughts of eating this man crossed his mind. He backed away, worried that he could accidentally hurt him somehow. His senses Heightened as he kept making eye contact with the man, he swore he could smell him, and he smelled good… not like hygienic or clean....appetizing.

The man came closer with a look of concern, speaking words Richie couldn’t hear. Richie backed up again, trying to keep distance between them.

“You have to get out of here man, I don’t know what's happening to me.” he spoke, his voice filled with fear, he bit his lip trying to hold back his urges. The man gave a confused look to Richie, and Richie spoke again “Dude just get the fuck out of here this isn’t a jo--”

And everything went black.

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

All he wanted to do was have a good time and watch a live comedy show while he was visiting New York. He heard that Richie Tozier was a good comedian, so he came.

But Stanley didn’t know what to make of this situation, he couldn’t tell if Richie was on drugs or if he was just insane, but it was starting to freak him out.

“Dude Just get the fuck out of here this isn’t a jo--” Richie’s eyes dilatated, he stopped talking, was this an overdose?! Before he could get a word out, Richie pounced on him holding onto his shoulders, it didn’t hurt, but it was extremely uncomfortable.

“What the fuck man?!” he tried getting Richie off of him, but the man was holding him down tightly, he definitely did not look as strong as he was. Stan began to feel really dizzy underneath Richie, his head spinning, he shut his eyes, expecting to pass out.

Stan screamed when he opened his eyes.

Richie was still on top of him, but he was much bigger than before, he was like a giant. He frantically looked around, seeing everything else as giant. He had shrunk. He looked back up to Richie, who was staring at him with hungry eyes, it took him a moment to realize Richie was looking at him as something to eat.

Something in him, something he had either repressed or forgotten came screaming out

Run

And he did, he got up from the ground, and began running, what was a few steps to get out of the alley before had become a long run for him. He ran, hoping that he could be fast enough to get away from the comedian.

Unfortunately, he was no match for the giant behind him, who simply picked him up with his thumb and index finger. Stanley yelped as he was hoisted into the and brought up to Richie’s face.

Stan stared into the giants blue eyes, shaking profusely, “Please…” he begged “Put me down, I won’t say this to anyone who would believe me… the famous Richie Tozier tried to…” he couldn’t say the words, he even know if Richie was going to do that, and he didn’t want to give him ideas. He looked for sympathy in the giant's eyes, but there was nothing, he wasn’t even sure Richie was fully aware of what he was doing. He was almost out of options “I-I have money, I’ll give you all I have just plea…”

His words trailed off as he was brought closer to Riches face, most notably, his mouth. His heart drops.

Stanley began struggling in the giant’s grip, “wait please!” He kicked Richie’s fingers, trying to make him let go, but it was no use. Richie opened his mouth bringing Stanley's head and torso inside.

He immediately started yelling, screaming, punching doing anything he could with the part of him inside of the mouth to get outside of it. He didn’t dare move his lower half though, his hips rested on the comedian’s teeth. He didn’t want to think about how this man could literally bite him in half without another thought.

Just when Stan thought it couldn’t get worse, the tongue below him started to move, soaking him and his clothes in saliva almost instantly. He cringed at the strong scent of Whiskey reeked around him.

As the tongue moved the top half of him around, Stan noticed in a really strange way, Richie seemed to be somewhat gentle, the didn’t even feel any pressure on his waist from the teeth. This didn’t change the fact he was in the process of being eaten though.

Stan got to a point where he couldn’t keep his legs still any longer, he began kicking outside of the mouth. He could feel the impact of him kicking something, he hoped maybe Richie’s nose, but that victory soon ended as he felt his legs be restrained, forcing his lower half to stay still.

Suddenly, he felt gravity shift around him, making him slip lower into the mouth, closer to the dark red throat.

He screamed once more, hoping the comedian-turned-cannibal could hear him “Don’t do this!” He felt Richie stop what he was doing for a quick second. Stan hoped he got through to him, everything went quiet.

And then Richie swallowed.

All the anxiety that was slowly leaving came rushing back through Stan’s veins as his hips and thighs entered the mouth, and his head and shoulders slid into the tight throat.

He winced at how tight of a fit this was, could he even fit? He then heard Richie cough, like he was trying to get stan out of his throat. He began to go backwards, his shoulders coming out of the throat. Richie was choking on how big stan was compared to the esophagus. He began to squirm more, trying to get Richie to cough him out.

Unfortunately, this small setback didn’t stop Richie, he swallowed once again, hard.

Stanley was shoved right back into the throat, making him yelp in shock, he was almost sure he was going to get out.

Richie began swallowing faster, the throat and esophagus stretching to fit Stanley. The man struggled as much as he could, but it was so tight he could barely move, he could only manage a few wiggles here and there.

A part of him still couldn’t believe this was real. This had to be fake, a dream, anything! But the other half knew that dreams were never this vivid, he would not be able to feel the muscles pushing him down further. he could never think of this either. This was so...fucked up.

He felt his legs slip between the teeth, and down into the throat, Richie swallowing them greedily. “You… gluttonous bastard!” Stanley cried out as his fate was sealed, there was no escaping now.

A wave of confusion came over Stan as he heard Richie take a deep breath once he was away from the windpipe. Could he not breathe doing this? He thought to himself good, fucker deserves to choke on the people he kills.

Stanley stopped struggling for just a moment, the word ‘kill’ never went through his head before, but it was obvious that would happen. He didn’t think of what was waiting for below him, he didn’t want to think about it. He just hoped it would be as quick and painless as possible.

He then felt the pressure around him release as he slipped into the stomach, the smell of alcohol worse than it was before, it was enough to make his eyes water. The stomach greeted him with a loud growl.

Stan Immediately got up and began kicking, punching, and pushing on the walls of the stomach, he knew that he could hurt the comedian, so even though he was doomed, he was going to give this fucker a bad case of indigestion.

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

Richie’s throat felt twisted and mangled and tasted like stale whiskey, his eyes were crusty and his vision blurry, he blinked until his view became clear. Once his spinning began to slow down to a slow throbbing pain, he realized that the pain in his stomach had subsided and was instead replaced with a feeling of satisfaction.

As he looked down at his body which was originally laying on the ground, but now sitting up, he examined his surroundings but quickly became distracted when he noticed his stomach, although not in perfect shape before, had seemed to have gained an extra inch or two to it.

He then felt a strain in his throat, he held his neck, it felt like it had been stretched wider than it should’ve been.

He was trying to remember what had happened, he was outside… a fan of his came around and he blacked out. Maybe the guy just freaked and left? But why was he in this much pain? As that thought crossed his mind, he felt something hit his kidney, hard.

He was knocked right onto his knees, holding his stomach, his whole abdomen hurt, he looked up expecting someone there, but nothing. It took him a few moments to realize the kick came from inside

He felt nauseous, shit, did I eat a rat? What the fuck?! He knew that idea had crossed his mind a while back, but he hoped he would never do that. Couldn’t he get a disease from that? Maybe the bubonic plague?

“fuck me” he held his stomach down, he noticed that the thing stopped moving once he put his hands on his stomach, maybe it was digesting?

“Oh fuck don’t think about that shit” he held his stomach tighter “its going to be fine, if you throw up maybe it’ll not be dead.” He carefully let go of the organ, just in time to see whatever was in his stomach push, making a small bump. “What the fuck...”

“Someone help me! Oh fuck...Help!” Richie Froze, turning his head around, hearing a very faint and muffled voice, he first thought he was hearing things, until another hit in his gut alerted him that the voice wasn’t out there with him.

It was in him.

“oH GOD WHAT THE FUCK?!” he yelled loudly, covering his mouth so other people wouldn’t hear him and show up.

Did he actually eat someone? That couldn’t be possible! But… he heard something in his stomach…and his throat did feel quite stretched out. carefully, he pulled his shirt up.

Maybe it was because he watched too many horror films, but he had expected to see the outline of a person protruding out of his skin. When he saw just smooth skin, and his stomach pushing out a slight bit, it made him feel a little more relieved.

Richie took a deep breath, and brought a shaky hand to his belly, and carefully pressed a finger down on his skin.

Instantly the thing in his stomach began to move wildly, he jumped, pulling his hand away “fuck that fuck that fuck that” he spoke, leaving the alleyway and making his way to his car.

He heard muffled yelling as he got into his car, he paused. “H-hello?” if he was going crazy, at least he was alone, and nobody could hear him.

He winced as the man inside began moving again, this time kicking him harder and harder with every kick.

“You fucking bastard! People will know I’m gone! I have a wife!”

Richie froze, this was not a dream. This was real, he had eaten someone, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it was the fan who he had met only a half hour ago. Richie took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was shaking badly. How could he let this happen? Why now?

He cringed feeling the man writhe in his stomach “can you stop fucking moving for one fucking second?!” he yelled, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. “I didn’t want to fucking do this y’know?! I didn’t want to kill anyone!”

Richie wanted to cry, but he held it back, even though he was by himself, he couldn’t seem weak. Even in this state.

Stanley went quiet as he was thrown about in the stomach, the man’s screaming voice all around him, he covered his ears. He could hear the man's heartbeat going a mile a minute. “You didn’t want to kill anyone?! YOU ARE A CANNIBAL!” he kicked once more, this time in the pancreas.

“No, I’m not!” Richie yelled “I didn’t even know I could actually DO this!” Richie took a deep breath, he needed a drink to calm him down, he had to get home “What’s… what’s your name? Are you hurt?” They seemed like silly questions, but nothing sillier than what was going on.

“You want to know my name? Really? Do you talk to your victims like this all the time? Or am I just lucky?!” the other question sunk into him though, he’d been in there for a while, and the digestion process should have kicked in by now, but he felt no pain, not even a little tingle, it just seemed like he was sitting in saliva and alcohol. “I… I’m not dead” he spoke at a normal tone. More shocked than angry now “how is this possible”

“I’d tell ya if I knew the answer man.” Richie grabbed his keys, turning on the ignition. “tell me if you feel anything, I’ll try and get you out as soon as I can. I… I’m fucking sorry”

“You really don’t know what you did…” silence on the other end, he was right “Stanley. If you want to know.”

Stanley…. It sounded so fucking familiar, but then again there were probably a million people named Stanley. “We’ve never met before this right?”

“Not unless you’ve been to Atlanta and stalked me”

Both were silent on the ride to Richie’s house, both stunned into silence at the events going on. Richie could feel the man moving around in his gut, and in a dark way, it felt...okay? Sure, he could feel the man shaking profusely, but something in him really liked the feeling of being full, having someone in his stomach felt really good.

He can’t make a habit out of this.

Richie made an abrupt stop as he parked in his parking spot, he felt the man tumble forward, he turned a bit red “Sorry”

“That's the last thing you should be sorry about tonight”

Richie made his way up to his apartment, shutting the door and locking it, he was thankful he didn’t have a significant other or any kids, so he could relax and figure out what the fuck happened without anyone else knowing.

“I’m...gonna try throwing up. Hopefully this works. If not, we’ll try something else.”

It didn’t work, nothing did. Stanley tried to climb up Richie’s throat, but it was too painful for either of them, Richie tried pushing on his stomach to get stan out by force, hurt like hell and didn’t work either.

Richie dropped the floor in his kitchen “maybe if I get really fucking drunk--”

“You are not fucking drinking with me in here”

“What else are we supposed to do man?!” Richie poked the bulge in his stomach, “We’ve been at this for an hour, I don’t even think I have a gag reflex anymore”

An hour. Stanley seemed to lose track of time, and he was shocked to hear that he’d been in there for an hour.

“Y’know, you’re probably gonna be fine.” Richie sighed “I mean it's been a really long time, and you’re not even a little dead.”

Stans eyes narrowed, “doesn’t mean I want to be in here!” he pushed on the wall, it tensing up in pain. It was gross, but there were worse things that could happen.

“That's not what I’m saying dude” Richie winced, rubbing his stomach carefully, it was very tender from all the beatings it had taken throughout the night. “All I’m saying is that we don’t have to destroy my body, we don’t have a time limit, so we can just chill for a bit.”

Stan could hear the pain in Richie’s voice, but he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t feel bad for the guy who shrunk and ate him, that's ridiculous. He rolled his eyes, there was no way he could chill inside a stomach. “Fine”

Richie sat in silence on the floor by his couch, trying to give his throat and belly a break from all the abuse. Stan probably didn’t realize how hard this was on Richie physically. It hurt like hell, and he was pretty much responsible for this person to live or die.

God, this was to fucked up! He ATE somebody! And he liked it! He could still taste stan on his lips, a faint taste, but it was clearly there. it was unlike anything he had ever tasted, he couldn’t describe it, all he knew was that it tasted good. Even though it was painful, he actually liked when Stanley moved around.

It was quiet, calm, and it even felt like Stanley was trying to relax as well. And in that moment, a lightbulb clicked on in his head.

He began to focus on Stanley’s form, every movement, every breath, everything. Richie took his hand, carefully pressed on his stomach, not where stan was, but just underneath him, almost instantaneously, Stan started squirming.

“What is that?!” he was scared that they were wrong, that the digestion process was about to begin.

“Relax, I’m doing something” Richie spoke, silencing Stan, He couldn’t explain, he was afraid that if he did, it would be harder to do.

Richie took a deep breath, preparing himself, then winced as stan entered the Esophagus once again, stretching it out a little too far for Richie’s comfort. He tried slowing down the process to minimize the pain, but it didn’t help.

Stan gasped as he was squished into the esophagus, barely able to move, he was shocked that he even got out of the stomach this quickly. Out of instinct, he tensed up and began shaking. Just then, he stopped moving, he heard Richie's heart speed up and the man begins to breathe heavily, like he was scared.

“What's wrong?” Stan called out, worried that he’d be muffled more than before.

“R...Relax.” Richie’s voice was strained, he sounded like he was in a ridiculous amount of pain. It made Stan realize what he was doing. Stan regulated his breathing, clenched his jaw and relaxed his body, hoping for Richie to continue.

Stan felt his body being pulled up once again, it was a much different experience this time, last time it was terrifying, almost painful and confusing. This time it was almost a relief to be in the esophagus strangely enough.

When Stan passed the lungs, Richie froze, realizing he couldn’t breathe, Stan was blocking his airflow, he cringed, pushing the man up faster, putting himself in excruciating pain, trying to breathe again.

Finally, Stan’s head and shoulders entered the mouth, Richie opened his mouth putting two fingers in to grab him, it took a few seconds but Stan finally exited the throat, Richie coughing loudly and dropping Stan on the couch beside him, taking deep breaths.

Stan covered his eyes at the brightness in the room, Stanley was covered in saliva, his hair sticking up in places and shaking at the change of temperature as well. He uncovered his eyes to see Richie. there were tear stains on his face, he looked extremely exhausted and he was holding his throat.

Richie, held his hand up as if to say ‘hold on’, before getting up and stumbling to the other room. Stanley didn’t move a muscle as he waited for Richie to come back.

Stan got a good look at his surroundings, everything was so big compared to him, he seemed so… vulnerable. He hoped that Richie didn’t have any pets.

Stanley was snapped out of his thoughts as Richie re-entered the room with a huge glass of water, drinking very quickly, most likely trying to ease the pain.

Stan watched as he drank, it sent a shiver down his spine seeing the man's Adam’s apple bob up and down with every gulp. It made him realize how easy it was for Richie to eat him again if he wanted.

Richie took a break from drinking, and looked down at Stanley, who was shaking like a leaf. He turned a bit red, placing the glass down and sitting on the floor, trying to become eye level with the shrunken man. Instinctively, Stan moved back.

Richie adjusted his glasses, “sorry” his voice was hoarse, it sorts of hurt to speak, but nothing really stopped Richie from speaking when he wanted to.

Stanley shook his head, communicating that it was okay.

God it was so awkward now, what do you say to someone who you just ate and coughed up? as Richie was thinking, Stan spoke first.

“How do I get back to my regular size?” that thought never occurred to Richie until this moment. He felt so stupid, of course this man couldn’t spend the rest of his life as a Ken Doll. Stanley saw the look on Richie's face, “you don’t know how to do that either…” he sounded disappointed.

“The last thing I remember before waking up was you coming closer to me.” Richie shrugged apologetically “Do you remember how you shrunk?”

Stanley thought for a moment then his eyes lit up, the moment flooding back into his head. “You jumped on me, and you were grabbing onto my shoulders tightly. Then I felt dizzy, then I was like this.”

Richie nodded, slowly bringing a hand closer to Stanley, this time the man didn’t move away, and Richie placed his hand on him. He scrunched his face up, closing his eyes to concentrate, ‘regrow regrow regrow’ he thought in his head, hoping that it would work.

He opened one of his eyes, Stanley staring at him with an unamused gaze. He was still tiny. “You look ridiculous” he didn’t say it in a mean way, it sounded very lighthearted, and Richie knew the face he was making was probably not the best looking.

“Don’t make me eat you again” he retorted, stan just rolled his eyes, they both knew Richie was in no state to even try, with his throat in pain and how much the act fucked him up mentally.

Richie then tried again, this time taking a deep breath, and letting go of any frustration. He closed his eyes, and didn’t think of anything, he left his mind blank.

Stanley became very dizzy, which was a good sign since that is what had happened before, he began to grow, slowly, but it was still progress. Richie opened his eyes to see Stanley growing back up to size, and he was amazed. He could actually do that! He could make people grow and shrink!

When Stan was back to his normal height (Richie Hoped) the man stood a slight bit smaller than Richie, but not as small as before.

“You can use my shower if you want to get all of...” he gestured to stands saliva coated body “that… off of you”

In any other situation, Stan would be embarrassed, but after everything, all he wanted to do was get cleaned up and leave. He just nodded silently.

Richie to the Hallway, “First door on the right, towels are in the cupboard beside it.”

Stan nodded once more, turning and walking to the washroom. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m going to get super fucking drunk.”

Stanley laughed to himself as he shut the door, quickly getting into the shower. The water was warm, it reminded him so much of Richie’s stomach, but not the scary parts.

Now that he was thinking about it, being in there wasn’t terrible, definitely not a vacation spot, but not as horrifyingly traumatic as he thought it would be.

Stan shook his head, what was he thinking?! He could have died! But... he didn't. He was probably the only person to be eaten and survive. That had to be somewhat interesting to anyone.

He laughed out loud at his thoughts, his mind was so twisted around from what happened, he couldn’t tell what was right or wrong anymore.

Stanley shut the shower off, hopping out quickly. He noticed a small pile of clothes on the sink, with a sticky note right beside them.

He made his way to the sink, picking up the note. The writing looked like a ten-year-old wrote it, or maybe a drunk adult. It was still legible thankfully

‘Thought you’d need these, unless you want to walk around in slimy pants :) -Richie’

Stan's face flushed a bright red. Richie came into the bathroom while he was showering! He wanted to be angry, to go out and yell at the man for his idiocy, but he didn’t have the strength to anymore. And Richie was doing a nice thing by giving him clothes, and it was clear that Richie didn’t want to watch him shower, if he did, he'd probably be in there now.

Stan came out of the bathroom, wearing Richie’s clothes, his folded neatly as possible in his hands.

Richie was on the couch with a bottle of vodka and a few shot glasses. The man was in the middle of a shot as he noticed Stan out of the corner of his eye. He put the glass down, smiling as he held a different shot glass up for him.

Stan shrugged, he never really liked to drink, but today was an acceptation, he felt like he needed it. He walked down to Richie, sitting beside him, and taking the shot glass out of his hand.

Richie grabbed another shot, smiling at Stan, “Cheers” he spoke, taking the shot without reacting to the strong alcohol.

Stan followed suit, reacting to it the complete opposite, making a face as it burned his throat Richie laughed, Stan glared jokingly.

“God what the fuck was this night” Richie spoke, the smell of alcohol on his breath strong. “Can we never speak of this again? I’d rather not be labeled as a monster.”

“Who would believe me, Hey everyone! I was eaten by the famous Richie Tozier! Get your pitchforks and torches!” he called out, making Richie roll his eyes

“Y’know, I like you man. Taste pretty good too” Richie covered his mouth, clearly not wanting to say that out loud, “fuck” he spoke through his hand. “I’m too fucking drunk”

Stanley stared at Richie, somehow not freaked out by the comment “So… this the first time you’ve done this, Right” he was trying to change the subject to spare the other man from further embarrassment.

Richie nodded, “I’ve… always had cravings for it, I guess this is what happens when I don’t… fulfill it?” he shrugged, not really knowing how to explain it “I’m sorry it had to be you.”

Stanley shrugged, he couldn't say it was okay, but he wasn’t mad anymore. “Lets just...go our separate ways, not talk about it?”

Richie nodded, “do you want me to give you a ride to the venue again? Its not far from here.”

“No, I took the subway. Is there a station near?”

Richie gave him the directions, there was one station only a few minutes away.

“Do you want the clothes back? I can send them to you”

“Nah, keep them, something to remember me by”

“I don’t think I’ll forget this any time soon.” Stanley laughed softly, getting up from the couch. Richie followed, stumbling a bit. They both walked to the door in silence. Richie opened it, but before Stan could leave, he spoke

“What's your name? Like...Full name.”

Stanley looked back in a bit of confusion, why did he need to know? “Stanley Uris”

Richie Held his hand out “Goodbye Stanley Uris, hope I’ll get to see you again” he didn’t think he would, but it was a nice thought.

Stanley shook the other man's hand, smiling “Goodbye Richie Tozier.”

Stanley left, Richie closed the door, and they went their separate ways.

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

Around a year later, he was just finished a show at the same venue, he had just finished, and was doing a slight meet and greet.

When the crowd was basically gone, a woman came up to him, “Oh my god! You were amazing!” she spoke with the most cheerful voice he had ever heard. It was one that brought a smile to your face.

He smiled “thank you, I know” he winked jokingly.

She giggled sweetly “my husband told me that you changed his life, and I can see what he meant, you’re really great!” she turned around “honey come meet him!”

Stanley came around the corner, and Richie froze, “you” he said quietly to himself, making sure nobody could hear him. Stan was even wearing the clothes he gave him.

Stanley smiled “Its nice to meet you Mr. Tozier”

Without warning, he pulled Stan in for a hug. The man first yelped in surprise, then embraced it.

His wife smiled “Hon?” she asked Stan “I’m going to go to the washroom, I’ll be back” and she left without another word.

When the two let go of each other, Stan noticed Richie was smiling an insane amount. “What happened to going separate ways?

“I wanted to see you again, see if you’re still a cannibal” he spoke quietly, making sure nobody eavesdropping could hear.

“Why? Come back for more?” the two laughed, it all seemed funny now, since then Richie had eaten a few people to make sure he wouldn’t go insane again. Only people who were drunk or wouldn’t remember when the evening was over.

“I just wanted to see you, I’m glad your doing good.” Stan spoke, his voice sincere and friendly “I should go meet back with my wife.”

“Yeah… glad to see you’re still around though” Richie spoke as Stanley left.

“You too”

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

And there we go! I hope you guys enjoyed reading this, I enjoyed writing this!

#soft vore #safe vore #non fatal vore #fearplay #g/t vore #digestion mention #extreme cuddling #unaware vore #male vore #Williams Writing

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fatrainbowmermaidunicorn · 5 years ago

Text

Promise (Jungkook x You x Yoongi ONESHOT)

MASTERLIST

A/N : And also, I’m trying a new thing here and you are in no way obligated to do it but if any of you like my stories and want to give some support, why not buy me a coffee? ☕💜

“I’m pregnant,”

“Oh fuck,”

Y/N looks at the boy in front of her with wide eyes. Did the firat word that came out from his mouth is oh fuck?

“Jungkook?”

“Are you sure?” He ran his hand through his hair multiple times, brows furrowed. “I mean.. it could be a false positive. We only did it a few times and its your first time too. How can you be pregnant?”

“Well…” Y/N held up the 10 sticks in front of him. 10 sticks of pregnancy tests that has a big fat positive sign on it. “If all 10 of this faulty, then maybe I should just sue the company. And also,” she pass him a slip of paper. “I already went to the doctors to confirm before I came to you. I needed to be sure too,”

“Y/N…” Jungkook weakly took the paper and scan its content. Yes, his girlfriend is a few weeks pregnant.

“We are going to be okay right Kookie? We love each other. And I know we are young, but we can do this right?” Y/N tried to smile, holding his hand. “I can find some work and you can do so many things. You have a bright future ahead of you. You c-”

“Thats exactly it Y/N,” Jungkook cuts her off and pull his hand back.

“W-what do you mean?” She looks at his retracted hand and back up at his face. Something is going to go very wrong, she can feel it.

“We are young. A-and I do have a bright future ahead of me…” Jungkook looks at her with sad eyes. “Y/N… remember that audition I went to?”

“Y-yeah?”

“I didnt win that but I got 7 different other offers instead and I have chosen one. I’m going to be a trainee. A trainee to become an idol!” Jungkook smile. Y/N knows this has been his long time dream. She wont stop him from going right?

Y/N looks at the smiling boy in front of her.

“You got in?!” She jumped excitedly and hugged him. “Then whats the problem? You can train and I’ll find work for a few years first until you debut. We can stay in Seoul together Kookie and start a new life!” Y/N grins. “I know you will debut and be successful one day. You are Jeon Jungkook, I believe in you Kookie,”

“Y/N…” Jungkook pushes her slowly, breaking the hug and is met with confusion from her. “I cant bring you… I… uh… I am not allowed to date until I debut and a few years after that in fact..,”

“W-what?” Y/N was shocked to the core. What is he saying? Is he breaking up with her? When shes carrying his child? “But.. what about..” she looks down and rub her still flat stomach.

“I-I dont know,” Jungkook sighed. “Honestly, I dont. But.. we will find a way, I promise okay?” Jungkook smile and hugs her, kissing her forehead. “I’ll never leave you and our baby alone. You will never ever be alone, I promise,”

/////

“Eommmmaaaaa!”

Y/N was drag out from her memories at the sound of her 5 year old daughter calling her name. She quickly wiped her tears and look at the little girl.

“Yes Jasmine, what is it baby?”

“Until when will grandma sleep in the ground? Its dirty!” She pouted. “Is she not coming home?”

“Well.. baby… grandma uh.. she went to a special place to sleep, and the ground is the way in. She likes that place so much she told me to tell you that she wont be coming back until quite some tine. Okay baby?” Y/N stroke her daughter’s hair softly.

“Okay eomma. But tell her to come back soon. I miss her,”

“I know baby. I know,” Y/N sighed and hugs Jasmine tightly, whispering, “I miss her too. More than you can ever know,”

The day Y/N told Jungkook that she was pregnant was the last day she ever saw or heard from him. He went back home that night, with a promise that everything will be alright, that she wont be alone and he will come up with a plan. But he dissapeared the same night, no texts, no calls, no messages, no one knows where and never came back. Y/N worked hard to raised her daughter up alone with the help of her single mother. Jeon Jasmine, she named her, but she can never answer when the little girl asks why her family name is different than her eomma or where her appa is. Soon, Jasmine stop asking and the three of them live happily together, the memory of Jungkook locked away. Until Y/N’s mother passed away a week ago and Jasmine keep wondering where she went.

Grandma sleeping at a special place is the best excuse she could come up with and after a week, Y/N decided that its time. She have to move on and make new memories someplace else with Jasmine.

A new job, a new place, a new life, just the two of them.

“And baby? We are going to a special place too. Not the same place Grandma went to, but another one okay. Lets go. Pick up your stuffed bunny and lets go okay?” Y/N place her on the ground and picked up the two luggage bags, fitting only the things they needed the most. New memories requires new things, right? and she take a step into a new future, hoping to forget every awful memory that ever happen in Busan.

You promise I’ll never be alone. Then what am I now Jungkook? Y/N sighed and looks down when she felt a tug at her hand and saw Jasmine smiling at her, making her heart soared. Well, Kookie, maybe you are right, I will never be alone afterall.

/////

Y/N looks up from the newspaper in her hand to the small building in front of her. This is the right adress, so this must be the place.

Hiring Coffee Girl

Y/N tapped the newspaper again, takes a deep breath and walks in. Being a coffee girl is not exactly a high paying job, but after dropping out from school to raise Jasmine, Y/N only works a few odd jobs here and there in her small hometown, which means she has no experience to apply for a high paying job in the big city of Seoul. But coffee? That she can do.

“H-hello?” Y/N nervously looks around the building. How can a supposedly entertainment company be this quiet. Yeah, its a small, unknown one, but surely they must have a handful of staff atleast? Theres not even a reception in this building. A building that doesnt even look like an office. Y/N wandered around the building, finding courage in herself to explore more. She came all this way, with what little money she have, she have to ace this interview.

Getting a little deeper into the building, she passed a few closed doors and finally hears music coming from a bright lighted room. With shaky hands and sweaty palms, she makes her way to the room and knock softly on the slightly ajar door.

“H-hello? Is anybody in here?”

No answer.

After knocking a few more times Y/N decided to push the door, only to be greeted by the bright light of the room. With blinking eyes she focuses herself and saw the room is some sort of a music room, with a grand piano located right in the middle of it. But what catches her eyes the most is the man sitting at the piano, head between his hands, slumping in frustration.

Y/N nervously take a few small steps closer and whisper.

“H-hi. Hello? S-sir?”

Still no answer.

“S-sir?” She reached out and tap the man’s shoulder, who immediately whipped his around, glaring at her, making her jump.

“What?!”

“I-I’m sorry. I didnt mean to disturb you but I-”

“Who the hell are you?!” The man turned fully at her and Y/N managed to sink in his features. He is good looking, no doubt. With short black hair, his beautiful pale skin glowing, his dark eyes shooting her death glares.

He is the most beautiful man she has ever seen.

“Are you deaf? Or u cant talk or something?” He waves his hand in front of her, making her jump again. “Heeellloooo?”

“S-sorry. I-im here to interview for the coffee girl position?” She stuttered.

“Do I look like an interviewer to you? Get out from here. This is private practice!” The man huffed and turned back around to his piano, shuffling through his music notes.

“Sorry,” Y/N quickly bows and turned to leave but stopped in her tracks when she heard a loud sigh from that same man, while loudly mumbling to himself.

“What cant I get this next note right? God damn it!” He slammed his hands on the piano keys, making a loud noise. Y/N knew she shouldnt, especially after the man just told her directly to get out but she turned around and approach him anyway.

“M-maybe I can help. M-may I? See? Your music notes?”

He looks up and glares at her.

“You? Coffee girl? What the hell do you know about music?” He scoffs.

“Maybe not as much as you Sir,” Y/N starts to get annoyed. How arrogant is this man? “But it seems like you are stuck and maybe a fresh perspective from a coffee girl can help,” she gritted her teeth, glaring back straight to his face. The man kept quiet for a moment before sighing.

“Fine, what do I have got to lose anyway,”

Y/N smile and took the papers he offered. After reading through and thinking for a moment, she smile.

“How about this? May I?” She gestured to the piano. “Sure. Go ahead,” he scooted a bit to give her space.

“I was thinking of something like this,” she starts to press the keys, making out a beautiful melody that fits the next part of the song perfectly. The man turns to her, mouth gaped open.

“H-how did you think of that? I have spent 4 days locked up in here, trying to think of the perfect continuation for that part!”

“Well,” she smiles, “sometimes a fresh perspective is all you need,”

“Are you sure you are just a coffee girl?” The man looks at her skeptically.

“Well, I am not practically hired yet, but I am hoping I would be. I reaaaaally need a job,” Y/N shrugs.

“No, I mean, you must have some sort of knowledge or maube some dumb luck or talent in music to do this so effortlessly. Who are you?”

“Well.. I do have a big interest in music. Me and my boyfriend, well, uh… my ex boyfriend,” Y/N gave a small smile at the memory of Jungkook, “use to compose songs together. I also studied music a little before I dropped out from school,”

“Do you still need a job?” The man looks at her with a serious face now.

“Yeah. I absolutely need one,”

“Then I am going to get you one,” he flashed a gummy smile and pull her hand.

“Wait, where are we going?!”

“To meet the CEO,”

“C-CEO?! Does the CEO really need to interview me for just a coffeegirl position!?” Y/N shrieked, making the man laugh.

“Of course not. We couldnt care less who will make us coffee. But I am going to make you a song writer for the company,” he grins again.

“W-what?!” Y/N felt dizzy. Is this man for real?

He just smile and continue to drag her to a room on the second floor. Suddenly he stops right before entering the room and smile, his hand shooting out to hers.

“I am going to be your colleague. We are going to spend a lot of time together since we are gonna be writing songs. I should at least know your name coffee girl,” he grins.

“I-Im Y/N. L/N Y/N,” Y/N reached out and shook his hand.

“Hi Y/N. I’m Yoongi. Min Yoongi, and it would be a pleasure to work with you,”

/////

“Working hard?”

Y/N jumped when that soft whisper hits her ears and turned around to smack the source of the voice right in the head.

“Owww!” “Serves you right Min Yoongi!” She pouted. “I told you dont sneak up on me when I am working!”

“But I brought coffee, and donuts. Is that enough to forgive me?” He gave her his famous gummy smile, holding up the tray of hot coffees and brown paperbag filled with donuts.

“Hmmm, depends,” Y/N crosses her arms and pretends to think. “Is it strawberry filled?”

“Of course it is. Dont you know by now to not underestimate Min Yoongi?”

“Then you are forgiven,” she smile and catch the bag that Yoongi threw at her. “Mmhhm delicious!”

Yoongi took a seat in front of her and smile. Writing music time is his favorite part of work. Sure, it has always been his favorite, but ever since that fateful day Y/N walks in looking for the coffeegirl position, it has gone even better.

“So, how was your band mates?”

“Oh right!” Yoongi smile. After years or training and just coped up writing music, he is finally introduced to another 6 trainees that will soon debut with him as part of the same group. Earlier today was the first time they actually officially met each other. Sure, he has seen them around the company sometimes, but never propeely introduced. “They are great. But I am the second oldest. Which means I have 5 bratty little brothes to deal with. I thought having you is punishment enough,” he laughs.

“Yahh. Who are you kidding? You love me,” Y/N giggles and continue to eat her donuts, which fillings has now dripped on her chin. Yoongi smiles at the sight of her scrunching her nose, brows furrowed trying to wipe the mess and mumble only loud enough for him to hear.

“I do. I really do love you,”

“Did you say something?” Y/N looks up at him, taking him by surprise.

“N-no. Just got some inspiration for the music. Stop eating and lets get to work you piggy,” he laughs and ruffles her hair.

“Yah, Im no piggy!” Y/N giggles. “Anyway, how long do you think PD-nim will keep with the rule that only married woman can meet and work with your group? I want to meet them too!” Y/N pouts.

“Well, a rule is a rule, and we are all devastatingly good looking you know, you might fall in love,” he laughs.

“That rule shouldnt apply to me. I have a kid!” Y/N protested. “And I am already working with you, for so many hours a day too! Whats the difference?”

“You might have a kid, but you are still single,” Yoongi rolled her eyes. Y/N had introduced Jasmine to him a month after they started working together, and just like her mother, the little girl managed to win his cold heart in a matter of seconds. “And its different with me. You knew me before I was an idol. Before I get all this cool clothes, 10 inch makeup and this swaggie dance moves. You already see me as a friend,” Yoongi smiles although deep inside he wished Y/N would say something about how he is more than a friend.

Y/N shrugs.

“Whatever. I still think the rule is stupid. I worked here but I cant see them? Stu-pid,” Y/N rolls her eyes and start to work. “But hey, atleast I get to spend time with you. And thats more than enough, right Yoongs?”

Yoongi smile at the nickname.

“Absolutely,”

/////

Y/N woke up that morning with her heart beating fast. She can feel something is happening today but she cant put her finger on what it is. Anxiously, she gets ready, take a shower, prepare breakfast for the two of them and send Jasmine off to school and make her way to the studio. Yoongi has a schedule today, so she will be working alone.

She smile at the thought.

Who knew that grumpy man she accidentally met a year ago, yes, a year ago, become one of her bestfriends and also a member of an idol group. Yoongi has debuted a year ago and to this day, she still dont know who his bandmates are or ever meet them. She always miss their show due to her busy schedule, balancing between work and taking care of Jasmine, and since the group dont have that many shows to begin with, she never get the chance to see them.

1 new message Yoongs 😊

Y/N smile and clicked open the text. She knows hes busy but he never fails to atleast wish her a good morning. Without realizing, her face etched with a huge smile. Y/N shakes her head and clears her throat as she realized what shes doing. Why am I smiling just from his name anyway?

Im taking you to lunch today. You are finally meeting my infamous bandmates. See you at 1 😘

/////

Y/N smoothed down her wrinkled shirt as she paced back and forth in front of the building, waiting for Yoongi. She dont know how to feel right now, nervous? Not exactly. Trying to impress? Not so much. But she do want to atleast look presentable in front of Yoongi’s bandmates. She has been bugging him to let her meet them for a year and now that he managed to do so, she should atleast act her best.

A few minutes later a small van with tinted window stopped in front of the building and out the first face she seens coming out fron the sliding door flashed her a big gummy smile.

“Yoongs!” She jumped and hugs him. Yoongi laugh and hugged her back.

“Wow, someone is excited to see me. I feel so touched,”

“Yah, I’m lonely. Writing songs alone is not as much fun as it sounds okay!” She pouted playfully and smack his chest.

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. To make it up to you, I am finally giving you your wish. Come meet my bandmates,” he takes her hand and leads her closer to the van. One by one they climb out fron the van, smiling, shaling her hands, telling her how they love her songs and how Yoongi talked so much about her.

“Thats Seokjin-hyung, Jimin, Namjoon, Hoseok..” Yoongi peered inside. “Wheres the maknaes?”

“They are coming out. Tae is trying to wake our sleeping beauty,” Jin explained. “Sorry, our youngest like to sleep,” he gave a small laugh.

“Its alright. You guys must be tired. Thank you for still making time to have lunch with me,” Y/N smiles. Before Jin coukd answer, Taehyung climbed out from van.

“Hes awake! I did it. Hi, I’m Taehyung,” he grins and gave his hand for a handshake. Y/N who is still starstruck by his beauty awkwardly take his hand as the “sleeping beauty” everyone talked about climbed out the car, which almost give Y/N a heart attack.

“Hi, sorry, I’m Jung-

“J-Jungkook?”

All six pairs of eyes are opened wide at whats happening in front of them. Their faces turned from Y/N’s shocked face to Jungkook’s disbelief reaction.

“Wait, do you guys know each ot-” Yoongi didnt managed to finish his question when suddenly a pretty girl ran up to the group and hugs Jungkook tight.

“Babyyy, I have waited for so long! Me and the baby is hungry!” She pouted playfully and rubbed the slight bumped on her stomach. Y/N’s mind is spinning as she tries to register what is happening in front of her. “Oh sorry, I didnt realized theres someone else,” the girl giggles and turn to Y/N, bows and sticks out a hand.

“I’m Nayla, Kookies’ fiancee. And this is our soon to be Kookie junior,” she smile and rubbed her stomach again. “And you are?”

“I-I,” Y/N’s eyes flicked over to Jungkook’s face who just look at her with a sad expression. Not sad for the situation, but more like sad for her. “I uh, I have to go,” she bows quickly and ran back inside as fast as she can, leaving everyone in confusion.

/////

“Hey.. Y/N? Are you in here?” Yoongi’s soft voice calls out to here and she sense a figure coming closer to her as she quickly wipes her eyes but to no avail. The tears just keeps on coming. Yoongi sighed and sits on the floor besides her.

“H-how do you know I’ll be here?” She whispered, making Yoongi smile.

“Because, this is your sad room. I know you come here when you had a writers’ block, or you feel like your work is not good enough or when you are feeling anything bad at all,”

“Y-you notice?”

“Of course I do. I just thought you would appreciate it if I leave you alone whenever you come in here,”

“Then why arent you leaving me alone now?”

“Because I dont know what makes you sad this time. And I want to make you feel better. But I cant do that if you wont tell me. So… can you tell me? Please?” Yoongi scooted closer and tuck a stray hair behind her ears. “Please?”

“I-,” Y/N sniffles. “J-Jungkook…”

“You know Jungkook? I know hes a maknae brat, but what could he have done to make you this upset,” Yoongi wondered out loud. “Want me to beat him up?”

Y/N lets out a small smile in between her tears.

“N-no,” she smiles and takes a deep breath. “Jungkook… he uh..” Y/N starts to cry again. “J-Jungkook.. he is… Jasmine’s father,”

“What?!”

“And Yoongi, he has a fiance and a baby on the way!” Y/N burst out crying and Yoongi immediately leap forward and engulfed her in his tight hug. “Im alone Yoongs.. I thought when I find him I wont be alone anymore. B-but.. Jasmine and me will be alone,”

No, Y/N,“ Yoongi strokes her hair softly. “I promise you Y/N. You wont ever be alone. I’ll take care of you. I promise, I’ll take care of you,”

/////

Maybe its true when people say omce you notice or know something, you will never unseen it. After that fateful lunch meet up, Y/N keep seeing Yoongi’s band mates everywhere in the company. Of course, Jeon Jungkook included. Funny how for the one year she worked there, she didnt even crossed their shadow.

Still, she tries her best to avoid them l at any costs until one day, while she went to the rehearsal room early to meet Yoongi. He usually came early to finish a verse or two before their dance rehearsal and Y/N usually meet him there for a little catch up on work and leave before the others arrive. But as she pushed open the door, Yoongi was no where in sight, but she was met with a sweaty, dancing Jungkook instead.

“Oh.. uh, hi,” Jungkook immediately turned off the music player and stops, wiping a small towel over the sweats on his face.

“Uh.. hi.. s-sorry. I was looking for Yoongi. He usually come here early..” Y/N looks down and fiddles with her fingers from the awkward tension. How can she felt awkward with the same guy who whispered words of love in her ear years ago?

“Oh. Something came up, so hyung will arrive a bit late today. You are welcone to wait,” Jungkook motioned to one of the couches.

“Uh.. thanks..” Y/N looks around, still not sure what to do. Should she just leave and text Yoongi?

“So how are you? We havent seen each other for so long,” Jungkook cuts off her thoughts, smiling at her. Y/N looks at him. How can he be so casual when the last time they saw each other is when she told him she was pregnant? And never heard from him again?

“Im good,” she smiles. “Im a song writer now. But of course you know that,” she slapped her forehead. “Obviously I write songs for your band,” she gives a small laugh. Jungkook smiles back at her.

“Yes, you are. So how is working with hyung? We are all scared to disturb him when hes writing, but you seems to be able to work well with him?”

“Yoongi is great actually. And he helped me a lot,” Y/N smile at the thought. “He works really hard. Im actually here becayse he actually always tired to fit in some writing before all of you have to rehearse your dance,”

“Ohhhh, typical hyung,” Jungkook smiles. “But Joonie hyung told me the rap line has something came up today. So they will be late. You want me to take a message?”

“Well…” Y/N thought for a moment. “Yeah, that would be great actually. Just tell him that I cant stay because I need to go school,”

“School?” Jungkook looks at her, confused. “Are you still studying?”

“Oh right no,” Y/N laughs, realizing Jungkook must be confused. “I need to go to Jasmine’s school. They are having a-”

“Jasmine?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow and Y/N realized she never actually had a chance to introduce him to his daughter. Y/N feels her eyes starts to water and smile softly. This is the forst time Jungkook even hears his daughter’s name.

“Jasmine… well,” she spoke softly, eyes never leaving his. “Jasmine is my daughter. Well, actuallu, she is our daug-”

“Stop,” Jungkook raised his hand to stop her from finishing her sentence. Y/N looks at him with confusion. “Dont finish that sentence. I know what you are trying to say Y/N and I dont want to hear it. I dont want to know about her. At all,”

Y/N felt like her heart stopped. She knows Jungkook most probably dont love her anymore, but she had thought he would atleast feel something for his daughter? A little girl who never knew who her father was.

“Jungkook, I-”

“I know maybe you think by bringing her up I will feel regret, or maybe you can rekindle our love or something,” Jungkook sighed. “But let me tell you this now. I dont know how or what kind of funny joke the universe is trying to pull, that you somehow ended up working here of all places, but we are over. What we had are in the past and we will never be together again. We were teenagers, and I dont think I was even in love with you back then,” Jungkook runs a hand through his hair while Y/N is still dumbfounded about everything he says.

“Jung-”

“Let me finish ok?” He stops her. “I dont regret what I did. I know that makes me an asshole, but I am happy now. I love Nayla. I will do anything for her. And we have a baby on the way. And that baby is my daughter. I love my career and I have a bright future ahead of me, so please, please dont do anything that would jeapordize what I had or I swear Y/N, I’ll make you regret it. Clear?”

Y/N blinked a few times, the pain in her chest is killing her, her eyes trying hard to blink back the tears. Is this the Jungkook that she knows and love? How is he this heartless?

“C-clear,”

“Good,” without hesitation Jungkook turns and plays the song again and continue his dance, leaving Y/N standing there, frozen.

“Hey, you are early today,” Y/N turns and see Yoongi smiling at her. Without realizing, the other members are already entering the room one by one, chit chatting and placing their bags at the corner, ready to rehearse. She lifted her head to look at Jungkook, who is smiling and greeting his hyungs like their conversation never even happened.

“Yeah..” she smile weakly. “I uh just want to tell you that I dont feel well, so I’m gonna head home early today. Have a fun rehearsal,” Y/N smile, bows and quickly ran out before Yoongi can say anything.

/////

He knows. Jungkook knows that Y/N is avoiding him ever since the conversation they had in the rehearsal room. Jungkook didnt regret what he said because he meant every single word. He have a good thing going with Nayla and his career and he doesnt want a blast from the past to ruin it. But why is it he found himself cranking his neck to see if Y/N walks pass the hall? Or feeling irritated that Y/N didnt make any more effort to talk to him, or to introduce Jasmine to him? Or the feeling of extreme annoyance that Yoongi keeps on talking about her? He knows for sure that Yoongi knows about their history. Though his hyung never mentioned anything about it, but from the way Yoongi eyed him up and down or the sarcastic remarks he makes sometimes, Jungkook knows Yoongi knows exactly what happened. But what he doesnt know is, if Yoongi know about that conversation that took place a few days ago.

“Lets go Kookie,” Taehyung nudge him, snapping him out from his thoughts. Taehyung and him wanted to grab some food after the tiring rehearsal while the other hyungs decided to just go back to the dorm and sleep the say away, exhausted. They walked the short distance to their favorite snack stall near the building.

As Taehyung chatted away happily while stuffing his face full, Jungkook caught something at the opposite road in the corner of his eye.

Y/N.

He hasnt seen her for days already. Jungkook keeps on staring, blanking out everything that Taehyung is saying.

What is she doing?

Y/N turns to face him and thats when he realizes that she was talking to a little girl. Jungkook’s heart immediately beats faster at the sight fo the girl’s brown doe eyes, smiling and looking up to her mother with clear adoration.

Jasmine. His daughter.

Jungkook smiles without realizing. Sbe is so beautiful, and happy. Happy without him. Without a father. Because her father disown her. Jungkook’s smile turn to a frown. But the frown gets deeper when he saw Yoongi walks towards them and Jasmine immediately runs to his hyung and hugs him as Yoongi kneels to her height. He saw how Yoongi adjusted his daughter’s beanie and ruffle her hair. And how her tiny hands hugs Yoongi’s neck as he picks her up. How Y/N smiles warmly at the two of them. To everyone else, they look like a freaking happy family. But Jungkook knows better.

Because thats his family. And he wants it back.

/////

Ever since then, Jungkook has been following Y/N’s every step. And hes not being subtle about it either. Hes obviously watching and staying close and keeps on making snide remark about Yoongi and his closeness to her whenever they are together. At one point Y/N have had enough and drag the maknae to an empty rehearsal room.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“I dont know what you mean,” Jungkook shrugs. “Can I go now?”

“No! You know exactly what I mean. Why are you acting like a jealous freak?!” Y/N is frustrated with his behavior

“Fine!” Jungkook raised both his hands. “I dont want you close to hyung. Yoongi hyung,” Jungkook crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Why the hell not? Hes my friend. And who are you to tell me what to do?!”

“Well, for starters, I’m the father of your daughter. I dont want you to simply let my daughter close to anyone!”

“What?!” Y/N looks at him in disbelief. “You said Jasmine is not your kid remember. What? You suddenly want us back now?!” Y/N scoffs.

“N-no. I dont want that. I just…” Jungkook is loss for words.

“Then what do you want from me Jungkook? You said you dont want me to get close. You said you dont want to get to know your daughter, but you flipped out everytime Im close to Yoongi! What the hell do you want?!”

Jungkook kept quite, his chest heaving heavily from his breath, trying to control his emotions. Y/N takes a deep breath and looks at him.

“Jungkook.. I love you. I admit it. I love you. I still do. Even after years you left me and treating me like crap ever since we met again, I still love you,” Y/N confessed. “Choose me Jungkook. Marry me and lets forget the past mistakes. Be with me. Be here for me, for Jasmine. For once in her life. Marry me Jungkook,”

“I-I cant…”

“You… cant? Why? Why Jungkook? Tell me why!”

“I-I dont know! I dont know okay!But all I know is that I dont want to get married now Y/N. I am still young!” Jungkook lets out his frustration. To be honest, he really dont know how he feels.

“You are engaged to Nayla, Jungkook! Engaged to be freaking married!” Y/N screamed back.

“Nayla and me will only be married in a few years time. We never picked a date yet,” Jungkook justify.

“Then fine, okay. I’ll wait. I have waited for so many years, whats a few more.m right? Jungkook, I love you. Please,” Y/N sniffles. “Please, leave Nayla. We have a family. You, me and Jasmine. Please Jungkook, Nayla will understand. We are a family. We are meant to be together!” Y/N reached out and hold his hand. Hoping this time, he wont leave them again.

“Its not because of Nayla or anyone. Dont you get it?! Its you! I dont want to marry you!”

“W-what?” In shock, Y/N drop his hand, mouth gaping open. Jungkook finally said it. Shes the reason why. Shes the reason why Jasmine doesnr have a father. Jungkook left not because he was afraid of commutmentor anything. Its because… of her. Jungkook just doesnt want to marry her.

“Wait Y/N, thats not what I meant,” Jungkook quickly realized what he said and try to reached for her hand again but she swatted it away.

“No Jungkook. For the first time you left me, I finally understand. Its very clear now why. You dont love me. You never did. And you never will. All this years I thought if I found you, I can trt to make you fall in love with me. But how can I? How can I if you never love me in the first place?” Y/N laughs emotionlessly. “I-Im gonna go,”

“No Y/N, wai-”

“No Jungkook. Let me go. And this time I promise I will leave you alone,”

/////

“Hey…” Yoongi smiles and take sits down on the steps besides her. Y/N quickly try to wipe her flowing tears but failed. Its just too much. “I didnt mean to eavesdrop… but I passed by the rehearsal room, and I kinda heard everything. Are you… okay?”

“Why are you so nice to me Yoongs?” Y/N sniffles, letting her tears flows down. She doesnt want to keep it inside anymore. “I am sure you have better things to do than be with me and all my drama. Than entertaining a kid who is not even yours. You dont have to be nice to me just because you feel like you have to. Im okay,”

“Is that what you think Y/N? That I have to?” Yoongi gave a small laugh. Y/N nodded.

“Im a nobody. Just a small town girl who you helped to get a job. You have big things ahead ready for you Yoongs. And I am sorry I drag you into this,”

“Hey…” Yoongi cups her face to make her look at him. “You might be a small town girl who I helped. But I know for sure that even if I didnt, you will be great elsewhere. So actually, I am the one who should thank tou for picking to work with me,” he flashed his gummy smile, making Y/N smile a little. “Y/N… you might be a small town girl, but you are so much more to me,”

Y/N looks him, confusion clear in her eyes.

“You are the girl whos talent so raw, so amazing, it amazes me. You ate the girl who with just a smile, or even a yawn,” he laughs, “makes my heart beats uncontrollably. I dont know how or when it happens… actually, I do,” Yoongi smiles. “It happens from the first day you tapped my shoulder and said I should open up and listen to some fresh persepctive. My heart cant stop beating at the thought of you ever since then, my mind cant stop thinking about you ever since and I just cant bloody stop smiling at the thought of you, at the sound of your name Y/N. There.. you know everything now. So I hope you dont think that I have to take care of you. I hope you know that I want to take care of you, because the thought of you and Jasmine alone or sad or unhappy makes me want to protect you, love you and just.. make you smile again,”

“Yoongi..,” Y/N whispered his name so softly while his eyes still locks on hers. “I… but I cant-”

“Hey,” he takes her hand and rubs it softly. “I am not telling you all this so that you will forget Jungkook or choose me. Its not my intention. Im telling you all this because you need to know how you make me feel, how important you are, how loved and how I need you. You dont have to say anything,”

“Yoongi…” Y/N cleared her throat, eyes glistening with tears. “I care for you. You are what makes me so strong to be here, to start this new life after I move. To face Jungkook and Nayla everyday. But Yoongi… Jungkook is my-”

“I know,” Yoongi smiles and squeezes her hand. “Jungkook is your first love. And its not easy to forget him. I know he is your first love Y/N, and I dont mind. Because… I am going to be your last love, and I promise I will wait however long that takes,”

Y/N mouth gaped open, but nothing came out. Speechless as she stares at Yoongi’s smiling face.

“I love you Y/N,” he whispered and kisses her forehead. “And you dont have to say anything,”

/////

Jungkook is going crazy. He didnt mean to say what he said. He was just so stressed about his feelings that it just came out. He loves Nayla, and the baby. He is happy. Was happy. Everything changes when Y/N appeared again in his life and he starts to doubt everything.

The jealousy, the longing, the constant nagging from Nayla asking why hes acting different… its all just too much. And when Y/N asks him to pick her, choose her, there and then, he lost it. He was scared, he was lost and he doesnt want to do something he will regret. But apparently, he did it anyway.

Its been a few months since then, and Y/N avoided him like a plague. It doesnt help that Yoongi is helping her to avoid Jungkook too, and worse, that hyung is getting extremely close to her too, and that shameless hyung is no longer hiding his feelings for her. His whole band knows about it now, and theres nothing Jungkook can do to stop him. Jungkook needs to see Y/N, to talk to her, to explain everything. He knows what he wants now. Its very clear now. He loves Y/N. He wants to be in her life again, to be Jasmine’s father, to watch her grow up with Y/N by his side. Never again missing anything in her life. Jungkook will be damned if he lets Y/N go to Yoongi. His own band mate. His own hyung. But what if its too late? What if Y/N stops loving him in this past few months? What if he lost his chances for good. He needs to see her.

And he needs to see her now.

“Y/N, please. Just hear me out,” Jungkook pulls her hand before she could escaped. After months trying, he finally gets hold of her writing schedule and waited at the music room where she and Yoongi always work together. He made sure its the day where Y/N is alone, no hyung in sight and waited for her for hours until she showed up. She has no where no run now.

“I have nothing to say to you Jungkook,” Y/N tries to escape but failed.

“But I do. So you need to listen!” Jungkook gripped her hand. “Please?” Y/N sighed and nodded. She cant never resist thise doe eyes.

“Thankyou,” he gives her a small smile. “Y/N, first I want to say I’m sorry. Sorry for saying I dont want to marry you. Sorry for saying I dont want to get to know our daughter. And most of all… sorry for leaving you all those years ago.. when I promised you that you wouldnt be alone,” he takes a deep breath. “I regret everything I did to you. I was stupid, a brat and selfish. I know that. But I also know one thing… I know that I love you. In love with you. And I dont want to live another day without you,”

Jungkook stops and looks at her, trying to gauge her reaction, but nothing. He cant read whats shes feeling, so he decides to continue.

“Y/N… I’ll do anything. I’ll go as fast as you want or as slow as you want. If you want to get married now, lets do that. If you want to wait for 10 more years, I’ll do that too. Please Y/N, you dont have to forgive me, but please, accept me…”

“What about Nayla?” Y/N finally speaks after being quite for a while.

“Nayla..” Jungkook sighs.“Theres something you should know Y/N. That baby.. its not mine,” Y/N gasps, surprised by his confession. “You see… I have been chasing after Nayla for quite some time… but she has always been in love with this one guy, her ex boyfriend. Then one day, she came to me crying, saying shes pregnant and her boyfriend left her… she was scared, and alone.. and for the first time, she said she wanted me. I said yes. I accepted her, and accepted her baby as my own. But.. she left… the guy came back, said he wanted her back and she went back to him. Nayla is not a problem to us anymore Y/N. We can be together,” Jungkook smiles.

After a moment of silence, Y/N lets out a long laugh.

“Y-Y/N?”

“So thats why you are acting like this. Because Nayla left you? Thats it isnt it?”

“What?! No!” Jungkook panics as he realized what Y/N must be thinking about. “No Y/N. I have realized long before she left me that I love you. I want to be with you. You and Jasmine. You!” He held her hand tightly. “Please, believe me Y/N,”

“How can I Jungkook? You have done nothing but breaks my heart and hurt me…”

“I know, I know. But I promise. And this time I really promise, that I will spend the rest of our lives to prove to you that I love you. To shower you with the love that you deserve. To be the father that our daughter deserve. Y/N… I know you still love me,” he places her hand in his heart. “And I promise, you will never be alone again. I will show you how much I love you. I love you Y/N. I love you with everything I got,”

Y/N looks down and looks back up to the face that she had always, always love. The face that he always longed for. Slowly, a smile appeared on her face.

“I love you,” Jungkook smile and leans closer, to finally give her the kiss she has been waiting for so long.

/////

Yoongi immediately turns away from the door and walks out from the building. He is pretty sure Y/N wouldnt notice that he missed their session today.

He was so excited to surprise her today, bringing her favorite donuts. Y/N has been happier lately, and they have been so much closer ever since the Jungkook situation. Yoongi had thought he actually stands a chance. That Y/N has finally moved on ftom her first love. From the speeech he hears Jungkook gave her, and that smile on her face before he leans in to kiss her… well, he knows hows thats going to end.

Yoongi sat at the bench along the road alone, munching on the donuts he bought slowly. This is where he usually meets with Y/N and Jasmine, before they went off for some food or fun activities on his free day. None of that anymore. He is sure Jungkook will be doing that with her now. Yoongi sighed.

“How can someone sounds so sad while eating such delicious donuts?” Yoongi immediately turns around to the sound of the voice and see Y/N walking towards her, smiling. Ia she here to tell him about her and Jungkook. He dont need to know. “And Min Yoongi, are you eating my favorite donuts alone?!”

Yoongi try to give her a smile and pass the bag to her. Y/N smile and take a seat besides him.

“Why the long face?”

“Nothing you need to know,” Yoongi shrugs. “You look happy today,”

“Yes. Its a good day today,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I fell in love,” Y/N smiles and Yoongi felt his heart breaking.

“Well.. good for you then. I have to go. Ill see you?” He starts to stands up to leave but Y/N pulls his hand.

“Wait. Dont you want to know more?”

“Actually no,” Yoongi shakes his head and try to break free but Y/N tighten her grip and frown.

“No sit,” and Yoongi has no other choice but to follow. “I had a talk with Jungkook today,”

Yoongi kept quiet, wondering why he is putting himself through this hell.

“He told me he regrets everything he ever said, or did to me. He told me he wanted to try again. To be with me. To be with Jasmine. He said he finally realizes what he wants, that he loves me. And wants to spend the rest of our lives together. Its everything I wanted to hear Yoongi,” Y/N smile.

“Yeah? Congratulations. I am very happy for you,” Yoongi forced a smile.

“And do you know what I think about while he is saying all that?”

Yoongi shrugs.

“All I can think about is how I dont want any of that from him anymore. Instesd, all I can think about is all the days I spent with you. To spend my days with you. Laughing and having fun with Jasmine and you. The way you smile, the way you always here to listen to me, the way you care, the way you… love me…”

Yoongi feels his heart beats faster but his tounge is tied.

“And I realized… that I want to be all of that to you too. I want to be the face you remember, I want to take care of you, to listen to you, to make you smile, to make you laugh. Yoongi, do you know what I’m trying to say?”

“I-Im not sure? Maybe you can enlighten me?�� Yoongi tries to keep a straight face but he cant keep his gummy smile from showing.

“Min Yoongi, I love you,” Y/N grins. “And I want to be your last love too. No, I’m gonna be your last love, and it starts now,”

/////

“I love you,” Jungkook smile and leans closer, to finally give her the kiss she has been waiting for so long.

Y/N stops him before his lips can touch hers and smile.

“Y/N? Whats wrong?”

“I dont love you anymore Jeon Jungkook. And I promised you that I’ll leave you alone remember? And unlike you, I always keeps my promises,”

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