#i THINK I might've seen it in the passing once

[petals2fish]

Six Shots of Tequila

Summary: "She's your EMT and I keep telling her that she's pretty when she's concerned because I nearly DIED after jumping off a roof AU" and a dash of "I knocked her up and now we raise a kid together, but I really do love her." Also known as, the writer has certain tropes she will die for. (READ ON A03)

"Sirius hit me with a nunchuck."

He was such a fucking liar but she loved him either way.

"You jumped out the window onto the trampoline, Sirius told me."

He was blinking interestedly at her through his glasses; probably waiting for her to say something other than the few profanities that she'd said while loading him into the truck. The thick black frames he wore were lopsided and partially covered in some of the blood that had dripped from the wound on his forehead. The EMS they were on bound for the Hospital bounced down the small English road. The truck sirens wailed overhead to warn passing vehicles to move to the side of the road. Up front, Lily's partner Frank was updating the hospital on their arrival time.

"Are you mad?"

Lily was taking her patients blood pressure (it was elevated, go figure) and the man was looking at her like she was either his worst nightmare or best daydream. It was hard to tell what he was feeling since she was feeling so many emotions that night it was hard for her to process his too.

"Have you been drinking tonight?" Lily asked the man, James Potter, as she removed the cuff from his arm after deeming him alive (enough).

Lily knew the answer of course; she'd seen the shot glasses on the table in the living room. She could smell the drink on his breath. She hadn't seen him this plastered in years, not since the night they'd met. James snickered when she stuck his arm for fluids and she longed for the moment when he was back to his righteous self and she could take the mickey out on him.

"Might've had a few shots of tequila." He slurred, "Sirius brought us the good stuff from Nevada."

"How many constitutes a few?"

"Six."

"Holy hell James." Lily looked back up at his face, frowning, "Six shots of tequila?"

"I beat him." James said proudly with a beaming smile, "I beat Sirius."

"I dunno if you should brag." Lily replied steadily as she started reaching for sterile gauze to clean up his forehead, "you definitely have a concussion."

"Lily." He said earnestly as she counted to ten and placed the gauze in cleaning solution before wiping up the blood from his face, "They told me I'd gone soft being a dad." he looked mortified, "Soft."

"You're an idiot." Lily muttered, albeit worriedly as she assessed the growing bloody lump on his forehead, "You know Sirius was just goading you like he always does."

"Remus said so too." James complained.

"Remus does not think you've gone soft." Lily surmised, "I spoke to him on the phone last week James and he only complimented the birthday party you threw for Harry."

"He made fun of me because I fold the laundry."

"He did not once mention your exceptional laundry folding skills."

"I have gone soft." James moaned, trying to scratch his forehead but Lily swatted his hand away, "I used to be so cool and go out all the time."

"So sorry your condom broke and left you with more responsibility than a quick shag." Lily said flatly, watching the fluid channel into his veins.

James giggled, "You're so pretty when you're mad."

"Don't try to sweet talk me Potter," Lily warned as she tended to his IV, "You could've died."

"I was fine." James illuminated, "I've gotten way worse bumps in football."

If James had anything else left to say he couldn't, because he pressed one finger to the bump on his head in order to prove his strength to her, and he passed out.

"Fuck," Lily cursed, looking up at the clock to her left, they had two minutes to get to the hospital.

Lily grabbed the side window that was closed to the drivers seat and yanked it open. Frank was listening to his favorite folk music. Lily rolled her eyes and shouted over the music.

"He's finally passed out."

"We're almost there. I phoned ahead and asked for Marlene."

Lily thought that her partner had never sounded like a saint before now. Marlene was Lily's best mate and the best doctor at the hospital. If she wanted anyone checking out James' head it was Dr. Marlene McKinnon. Lily wondered if she should've asked Marlene to check out James' head the moment she met James three years ago, instead of after he'd suffered a concussion.

Inside of Lily's scrubs, her phone was buzzing every minute, probably texts from the person who got James into such a state. Lily checked James' pulse once more before grabbing her phone and seeing her screen light up with texts from Sirius Black.

Sirius Black: Harry's still fast asleep I checked

Sirius Black: if James tells you that I dared him to jump out the window onto the trampoline he's a fucking liar I swear

Sirius Black: I did tell him however, that he's turned into lightweight and a prissy baby

Sirius Black: and I got you that dress you were admiring at that boutique on Madison 

Lily could've killed Sirius Black but Harry wouldn't thank her if she ended up in jail and left James to raise him without her. That would be a fucking disaster. Lily sighed for the umpteenth time that night and pressed her fingers to her temples before writing Sirius back, her fingers pressing into the phone violently.

Lily Evans: He's got a concussion but he'll be fine. I'll call you once I'm done my shift. You're on baby-sitting duty until James and I get back. Don't fuck up. 

When Lily had gotten the call at work she'd actually been having a good night shift. Alex Margret had brought in her famous chocolate chip cookies, the nurses were celebrating Dr. Snape being fired for sexual harassment with party favors, and one of the TVs was actually programmed to a good channel. The call for an EMS to number 14 Godric Hall Road went over the speaker and Frank jumped into action as Lily sat, petrified with half a cookie in her mouth. She'd immediately called the house, worried that her two-year-old son Harry was injured by way of a fowl ball or something of equal value. No one answered and she jumped up from her chair, feeling like she was in a very bad dream, one that she wanted to wake up from immediately.

The ride to her small cottage at the end of town was the longest drive of her life and she cursed every car that made the drive longer because they didn't pull over for the sirens. The EMS driver, Longbottom, told her he was going to tranquilize her if she didn't stop wringing her hands. Lily was thankful he drove, as she could barely see through the haze of worry clouding her eyes.

When they'd pulled up to the small flat everything appeared normal. The windows were open to the spring breeze and Lily couldn't hear baby cries from the inside when she stepped out of the van. There were no cops running around with hazard tape. There were no bullet holes in her windows. The old cat was lazing in a flowerpot by the front door. Lily peeked next door and noted that even old Bathilda's house appeared standard with the flower print curtains drawn tight.

It was Sirius coming out the front door when she walked up with her partner that caught her off guard. First of all because Harry's godfather had been in the United States modeling for Calvin Kline last she'd heard from James, second of all because the look on Sirius' face could only be described as guilty. Knowing Sirius was the most reckless of all of James' mates, Lily immediately became defensive of everything happening.

"Lily listen I just want to say—"

Sirius tried talking but Lily pushed past the underwear model into her house irately.

"If Harry even has a scratch on his head I'm going to— James?!"

Lily's attempt to threaten Sirius Black within an inch of his life fell as fast as her heart fell to her stomach. The first thing Lily saw was her son's father lying on their sofa with scarlet blood transfiguring his facial features. His messy black hair was swept to one side of his pallid face. His white shirt was stained red near the left shoulder and discovered on the stomach. The entire room had a pungent stench and Lily saw vomit on her floor. For a minute she didn't see James' chest rising and falling and Lily felt like she was going to vomit.

Lily's short breaths were shallow as she raced forwards faster than she'd moved in her entire life—and it still didn't seem fast enough. Her hands fell against his chest and she was thankful to feel he was warm and had a heartbeat.

"James, what happened?"

Lily didn't care if she sounded concerned, because she had been. This was Harry's father and her best friend and no matter the issues between them, she didn't know what she would have done if her hands found but a corpse. The table beside James was covered in used shot glasses. The TV was loud and playing a sports channel. He opened one hazel eye when he felt her hands press against his chest.

"He kind of broke the trampoline." Sirius said when James didn't answer at first, "when he jumped out the window."

"What the fuck?!" 

"Lily, you're home." His words slurred and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Yeah and you're piss drunk." Lily said, pulling her hands away from him and turning her head to glare at Sirius, "what the fuck, Sirius! Around the baby?!"

"You're so pretty Lily." James' fingers reached up to tickle her cheek.

Lily's heart had halted to a stop at those words and his sensitive touch. It seemed drunk and broken James was more than willing to share his feelings with Lily than sober and mature James.

"Where's Harry?" she asked about their son, the one thing that had kept James in her life for so long.

"He's upstairs," Sirius said from behind, "sleeping."

"He'd better still be sleeping," Lily hissed venomously to Sirius as Frank entered the house with a first aid kit, "or you'll be needing the Emergency Room next."

"Missed you too, Evans."

Lily could've punched Sirius when she was at home and while pulling up to the hospital fifteen minutes later, she still wanted to punch him.

It startled Lily how much she cared for James. It was strange but the man who'd knocked her up three years ago ended up being the best thing to happen to her life. Lily would never admit that to James' face, especially not with their current predicament. The worry that struck Lily's heart when she'd seen James lying motionless on the couch was something she never wanted to experience again.

Lily and Frank Longbottom unloaded James in the portable stretcher and brought him through the doors into the relatively quiet Emergency Room. Most of the beds were empty and Marlene was waiting with her arms crossed, blue eyes sparkling with hilarity at Lily's exasperated look.

"What happened?" Marley asked Lily as they wheeled James into the closest room for surveillance.

Lily locked the bed in place as she answered while Frank drew curtains around James' bed, "something along the lines of jumping out a window onto a trampoline, which Sirius says is not his fault."

Marlene laughed, "Bullshit, Sirius totally dared him."

Marlene was checking James' vitals and Lily watched on with impatient eyes. Frank waved before disappearing through the curtain to give the girls privacy to talk about the man in the bed. Everyone at the hospital knew Lily's history with James since the hospital was where they'd first met. James had come wandering in with a broken nose from football and got lost looking for the loo—thereby stumbling upon medical intern Lily Evans. Lily had let herself be wooed by charismatic James in less than fifteen minutes. By the time James checked out he had Lily's number and Lily had the address to his flat downtown.

Sirius had apparently dared James back then too; a dare to shag the pretty medical intern who showed James where the loo was after teasing James about a broken nose. James told Lily so when she'd arrived at his flat that night, flabbergasted that she'd actually shown up. Lily told him honestly that she was looking for a fun one-night stand to get her mind of the stress of work. The result of Lily's spontaneous promiscuity with James nine months later was their son, Harry.

"Who's with Harry?"

"The godfather in question."

"James certainly had good taste in friends."

"Sirius means well most of the time." Lily sighed; thinking of how good Sirius was with Harry.

"You're only defending him because he's James' best mate." Marlene sniffed.

Lily got a washcloth from the sink and wet it a bit in the sink before going to James' wide to wipe down his forehead. Sleeping, he always looked so peaceful. Lily smiled sympathetically as she examined the way his jaw clenched in his sleep, like it did when he was thinking about something very hard. Marlene saw the way Lily was cleaning up James' forehead and snorted logically.

"What?" Lily asked.

"When was the last time the two of you had sex?" Marlene commented.

"Yeah, because that worked out so well the first time we did it." Lily said with a smirk in Marlene's direction, "we're just friends."

"You have a baby together," Marlene said with a roll of her eyes, "and share a flat."

"That's for Harry." Lily said softly, repeating to Marlene what she'd been telling herself for the past three years.

Marlene pulled her stethoscope off her neck and placed it on the closest counter as she said, "You know, or it could be because he has feelings for you, you oblivious dork."

Lily frowned, "we had a one night stand." Lily said, "He's a bloody footballer. He doesn't want to be tied down."

"If he didn't want to be tied down Lily, he would've ran the moment you told him you were pregnant."

"He's not like that." Lily said, brushing James' hair from his eyes and removing his glasses, "He's a good man and wants to raise his son…he just also wants to have the freedom to continue partying with his model best friend."

Marlene started a new IV for James, eager to get some fluids in to wash out the alcohol before they gave him pain meds for the concussion. Lily stared at James' face all the while, wondering how she had come to care for him so much in the last three years.

"Sometimes I wonder," Lily confessed, "If we would've seen each other again if I hadn't gotten pregnant."

"You weren't the only playing the flirt game," Marlene said, "It takes two to tango, and James was definitely into you."

"Yeah," Lily snorted, "that was before the condom broke and we ended up parents in the middle of his budding career and my sign on to the medical field."

Marlene placed a hand on Lily's shoulder and Lily looked at her friend, "it was a rough start for you and Potter, we all know that, but the two of you are in a good place now, right? Maybe it's time to start trying out being something other than friends with a baby."

"I guess." Lily muttered, grabbing James' hand and clasping it in her own.

Lily glanced down at James' bed, remembering that time, three years ago. She'd fallen for his stupid half smiles and adorable charm so hard. He'd literally knocked her off her feet when he'd ran into her while searching for the loo. He grabbed her before she slipped to the floor, his strong arms wrapped around her waist. He'd been wearing his football uniform and Lily had always had a thing for men in uniforms.

The rest was history.

A quick fling with a charming stranger turned into a nine-month commitment that turned into a surprisingly rewarding friendship.

Sometimes they were complete opposites.

For example, the minute James had found out she might be pregnant he started fretting over what they should name the damn fetus where as Lily had spent all night crying into her pillow thinking her career was over.

Sometimes they were similar.

For example, Lily wanted to give Harry the best of everything in life and James didn't disagree with her. He'd been the one to suggest moving in together so that Harry would have a stable home life even if they weren't in a relationship (or even friends really).

It was hard at first, because James was used to living the life of a bachelor: parties every night and escapades every day. He's made the mistake of bringing home outlandish women he'd met at Sirius' events. She'd made the mistake of playing her music loudly early in the morning after he'd returned from a tourney in Spain at 2am. He left dirty dishes in the sink. All her makeup was scattered over their shared loo. He never disciplined Harry and she was the bad cop in discipline.

They'd both made mistakes but they worked hard to make their missteps better, for Harry's sake. Eventually Lily began to do his dishes while singing to her favorite radio station when he returned from practice. James was really good with numbers and fixed her finances so that she could buy a new car with a dvd player for Harry. James found out Lily craved jelly donuts while she was pregnant and always had a dozen ready for her on her Mondays. Lily heard James had made a will and bequeathed everything he owned to Harry and Lily. James made Lily promise to save her Sunday nights for Netflix binging with him.

James turned into her best friend and was an incredible father to their son Harry.

That's probably why seeing James immobile on their sofa prompted Lily to recall that the last three years had made her become accustomed to James' presence in her life. She'd grown fond of his fascination with folding his socks. She'd laughed for days when she found out he sang in the shower. She appreciated when he began spending fewer nights on Sirius' private jet and more nights curled up with Harry by the fireplace.

"Concussion," Marlene's voice dragged Lily from her unsettled inner-monologue, "James'll definitely be out of work for a few weeks."

"Damn." Lily said crossly, "He's going to hate that."

James lived for his field time, even in the off-season. Lily had never seen James miss practice for anything except the birth of his son and a wicked pneumonia that caught him last fall. Lily had wanted to kill James when he'd lounged about the house with pneumonia. He was a moody sick baby and there was no doubt that bedridden James was going to be an absolute jewel to be around. Lily also knew the team manager McGonagall was going to come over to their house personally and tell James what an absolute idiot he was.

Personally, Lily couldn't wait for that.

"McGonagall's gonna kill him." Lily told Marlene, "their first match is in a month and he's got to practice."

"He might not be able to play the first game. He can't do any physical activity for at least three weeks." Marlene warned, "I'll order an MRI and we'll get a good look inside that brain of his to make sure there's no internal bleeding."

Lily's face paled, "I hadn't even considered..."

Marlene shook her head quickly, "Oh honey," Marlene hugged Lily swiftly and said into her ear, "He looks fine, really, I just want to be sure. McGonagall would murder me if her prize Captain retuned and passed out on the field."

Lily stared down at James over Marlene's curly hair and swallowed thickly.

"How could he do this to me?" she lamented, "Harry needs him."

Lily needed him.  

Marlene offered, "James will probably wake up soon."

"I'll wait for him to wake up." Lily said, "As long as you don't mind."

"Of course not," Marlene said, "He'll have a lot to think about…like thinking it was wise to jump out a window."

Lily laughed softly, wiping a tear from her eye when Marlene let go, "I can't believe I had a kid with him."

"I can." Marlene smirked before winking at Lily, "You did jump his bones the minute you met him."

"He was charming! He had a uniform!" Lily defended herself, "I'd like to see you pass the opportunity up when a fit footballer shows even the slightest interest!"

"Easily passable." Marlene said as she opened one of the curtains to go check another patient and order James' MRI, "considering boys don't do much for me to start with."

"There are girl ballers!" Lily shouted after Marlene who just laughed at her.

Lily grinned sheepishly before glancing back down at James.

How was she going to handle this?  

Lily knew how bothered she was that James had drunk himself piss poor around their kid. Lily also knew she was mad that she hadn't seen him so close to a breaking edge. James had been antsy for weeks now, snapping at her and staring at her and she'd ignored it. It was clear he'd had energy he'd needed released, it was clear he was regretting everything they'd built. The life James had imagined himself didn't include a baby mama and son he couldn't tote around the world with him when he went traveling for games.

Lily knew she could shout at James until his ears bled but she also thought that was a waste of time. James didn't listen to anything much if she argued with him; she'd learned that early on in their relationship. Lily chewed on her bottom lip and stared at him in worry as she watched him snooze.

She wanted James to be happy and she knew that he wanted the same for her.

"What am I going to do with you?" she thought aloud to herself.

His eyes opened and suddenly her word stopped spiraling.

It was his eyes that had done her in when she'd met him and it was his eyes that still left her heart still three years later. Eyes that were so light around the edges and so shadowy near the irises that they seemed to be constantly shifting between mischief and delight. She remembered the way his eyes traced her body so adoringly the night their lives had changed. She remembered admiring those eyes under the yellow lights of his flat downtown and wondering how anyone could be more persuasive with one sneaky glance over a dinner table.

Lily adored seeing his eyes scan her face every morning over a pot of coffee and she looked forward to watching his eyes sparkle with laughter every night before bed when Harry had finally fallen asleep to Lily's singing.

She wouldn't be able to take it if she never saw James' eyes staring at her the way they stared at her when he woke up from his feinting spell.

"What happened?" he muttered, pressing a hand to his brow where Marlene had taped gauze to the lesion.

"You jumped out a window onto a trampoline." Lily's voice was monotonous, her brain still firing a mile a minute.

James choked back a laugh, "that sounds like me."

"What was going through your head James?" Lily's voice cracked when she spoke.

"Tequila."

Lily, unsatisfied, stomped the ground, "James!"

James winced. "Please," he begged, "Inside voice."

Lily opened her mouth to shout again but felt as if half the patients could hear her and she lowered her voice, "Okay, how do you feel?"

"Like a million bucks now that you're around."

As per usual, he upset her beyond repair. Lily certainly hoped that their son took after her and the idiotic gene skipped a generation. Lord only knew how much Lily hoped that Harry never got it inside his head to jump out a bloody window onto a trampoline outside. The hospital walkie-talkie on Lily's hip was loud and she turned it down so she could focus on James. Lily knew that Longbottom would come grab her if she was actually needed.

"James please tell me how you managed to get the bright idea to jump out the window."

"I don't remember." James replied with his nose pointed in the air like Harry did when he was being obstinate.

"You don't remember." Lily considered that James was lucky she'd been worried about him—otherwise he might be dead by morning, "what, did you mange to get amnesia with that busted head?"

"Who are you?" James crumpled his face at her endearingly and Lily almost chucked her radio at his head to give him a matching lump on the other side.

"James." Lily warned, "you've got all sorts of places I can make you hurt right now."

"Why would you hurt me?" James huffed, "I've got amnesia."

"I wish I'd wake up with amnesia right about now." Lily muttered unintelligibly before saying heatedly, "I'm the mother of your son, you git."

"We're married?" The way James feigned surprise almost had her fooled, almost made her heart drop out of her stomach, if she wasn't so used to James' mischievous ploys, "Like, actually really married?"

"Yes James," she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes, "Sirius married us at Elton John's birthday party after you proposed to me riding a fucking white stallion on the beach in Greece."

James looked delighted. "Yeah, that sounds like me too."

Lily tapped her foot on the floor, "You really worried me James," she blurted out emotionally, "I thought something happened to Harry or—" she faltered before she could say you because all jokes aside they'd not crossed the line of friendship since three years ago.

"Come here." He ordered suddenly, seriously, and not at all like himself.

Lily walked forward to his bedside. James grabbed her hand and yanked her down so they were eye to eye. Lily watched as he licked his lips. She considered that she'd never seen him flirt with her so readily and she wondered where on earth his charm had been since the night they'd met. His left hand brushed her fringe from her eyes and a sad sigh escaped her mouth.

"Why?" she whispered.

James' face went a pink as they stared at each other, his eyes less bloodshot than they'd been an hour before. His right hand left the grip of her fingers and trailed up her arm, until his thumb was pressing into her chin, His tender touches were sending her back to the night when he'd had her pushed up against a mattress, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. His hitched breath was bringing her back to when they were complete strangers and had no emotional attachment, which seemed easier than the feeling currently sitting in the pit of her stomach.

"I love you, Lily."

Lily pulled away and stared at him in wonder, never had he ever said those words to her—unless accompanied by mockery or fun. This time the words were tense with passion she hadn't heard of or seen from James in years. The last time he'd seemed so serious about loving Lily was the day she gave birth to Harry.

"What?" she blinked owlishly.

"What?" he copied her cautious tone.

"You.. you love me?"

James grinned cheekily and her knees felt weak, "well, I married you didn't I?"

Lily stared at him. She was aware he was getting closer to her. He'd sat up completely in the hospital bed, the IV tubes shaking as he moved his spare hand to her cheek, pulling her close. The world around Lily stopped as she felt his warm breath trace her lips coyly. She knew she shouldn't kiss him since it was clear to her now that James was suffering some sort of amnesia since he believed they were married…but Lily hadn't kissed him in years and she couldn't resist when he was so willing to hand out his love despite the history between them.

"You gonna kiss me or not, Mrs. Potter?" he teased.

She inclined forward and pressed her lips impulsively against his. James sniggered against the movement unexpectedly but his laugh switched to a feeble whimper when her tongue pressed into his mouth. It was like the past three years of all her feelings were coming out in the hospital where it all started. Lily's hands were gripped in his shirt, yanking him up a little too roughly for someone with a concussion but she didn't care at all.

All the months, weeks, and days of tension between the couple lifted as his teeth grazed her skin and his hand wrapped around her waist to pull her closer to him in the bed. He lips tasted like he'd been drowned in tequila but Lily savored each hint, getting inebriated off his kiss alone.

It was the loudspeaker above James' bed calling for all doctors to go to room 31 that woke her up from the dream spun real life. When Lily pulled away from James she had to lean her forehead against his to catch her breath, her was heart pounding in her chest.

"Holy shit." James gulped, rubbing his nose against hers when she smiled perceptively.

It seemed James was having as much trouble breathing as Lily and his heart rate monitor was beeping madly. Lily tried her hardest to not think about the repercussions of kissing her best friend when he was just that—her friend who also happened to be the father of her child. Lily's chest rose and fell rapidly as his fingers came to brush against her cheek lovingly.

"I hope I really don't have amnesia." He said when he'd caught his breath.

"What?" Lily pulled her forehead off his.

James licked his lips, swollen from her sharp biting and pulling. His hair was in disarray and some of the tape holding the gauze to his injury was slipping off. Lily recognized the lighthearted look on his face. His bliss was accompanied by something else…something she saw often on James' face…a victorious look…like he'd just won a huge game.

"I said, I really hope I don't have amnesia," James repeated, "because I never want to forget that kiss."

Lily suddenly felt awful. He was totally in love with her and she wasn't even his wife. She had to come clean that she'd unthinkingly taken advantage of what she thought had been a joke.

"James," Lily swallowed regretfully, "I'm not actually—"

"Lily, I was just teasing," James declared.

"Huh?" Lily tilted her head at James in confusion.

"I know we're not married."

Relief settled in Lily's chest, "you do?"

"Yes." James answered shamefacedly, "I thought we were teasing each other."

"James Potter you git! I knew you were teasing but you seemed so—serious!"

"I didn't know you thought I was serious!" James protested, wincing when she smacked his arm out of frustration (relief), "I thought you'd break me off the minute I went to kiss you!"

She flushed, "uh."

Then he grinned presumptuously, "I had no idea you were holding back, Evans."

Lily fell into the chair closest to his bed and covered her face, "For five seconds I thought you were dying." She told James, "I thought Harry would have to grow up without you and that I'd—that I'd—" she pulled her fingers down to stare at him with a tortured expression, "and then you said you love me and fuck it all if I don't love you too, James Potter."

James' mouth dropped open at her confession. Lily waited for him to tell her she was out of bounds. She wanted him to tell her that he felt the same way but she knew it was more likely he'd tell her they had nothing but a baby together.

James reached out his hand for hers suddenly and she grabbed it hopefully, the space between them alight with their confession, "what have we been doing the past three years?"

Lily sighed and let her forehead fall onto their connected hands. "You're my best friend James," she said, "I just didn't want my feelings to get in the way of raising Harry."

James said, "Lily, my feelings for you haven't changed since the day we met."

"You asked me over on a dare."

"You came over for a quick shag," James countered back, "and by the time I realized I loved you, you said you didn't want to marry a pro ball player."

Lily remembered the conversations they'd had after she found out she was pregnant. James had asked her if she wanted to get married so her judgmental sister couldn't call her a whore or slut or whatever else she did end up calling Lily in the letter Lily had burned in the fireplace. Back then; James was still the ball player who spent money on luxurious cruises with women Sirius introduced him too at parties. Back then; he wasn't anything but a man she'd made a baby with.

Now though, James was so much more than anything Lily had ever expected.

Even when he drunkenly jumped out windows onto trampolines.

"I didn't love you then," she acknowledged, "you kind of crept up on me, you surprised me."

"Surprised you?"

"Well," Lily disclosed her secret thoughts, "when we met it was because you'd gotten into a fist fight on the field and you were this big shot footballer in magazines and I just thought—Hell, this would be fun for a night."

"Really?" James' eyes were fluttering, it was obvious he was exhausted and was struggling to stay in the exchange, occupied by their revelations.

"Yes." Lily supposed, "and then, I found out I was pregnant. All I could think of was how weird it would all be." She smiled and kissed his fingers, "But then we began raising Harry together and somewhere along the way though adventures of potty training and telling him he can't have the last cookie in the cookie jar—I fell in love with you."

"Come here." He demanded again, yanking her fingers so that she laughed and stood up, allowing him to pull her in for another chaste kiss that only lasted long enough for her to smile against his touch, "I'm sorry I worried you."

She shook her eyes, squinting her eyes shut, "it's my fault, you've been so distant the past few weeks, I should've known you were growing bored of domestic life."

"Bored?" James protested, "Bored?"

"Yeah," Lily said, confused, "you've been so…well we haven't been hanging out as much and I know you'd rather be partying on some yacht with Sirius and his harem of friends—"

"Lily." James cut her off, "stop."

"What?" she pouted.

James' fingers traced her lips, "I'm sorry you thought I was bored or mad or whatever…I wasn't being distant because I'd rather be partying on a yacht. I was distant because for the past few months it's gotten harder and harder for me to pretend to not be in love with you."

"You really love me?" her green eyes widened.

James nodded fervently, "I know I can be a git sometimes and drive you mad." He reasoned, "I know that our relationship hasn't always been the most—consistent. I mean, thought I wanted to play professional football and travel the world Lily, but the truth is that I'm my happiest when I'm home with you and Harry."

Lily laughed through a few tears that slipped from her eyes and she wiped her cheeks as he winked at her. Hearing James say he loved her made her heart swell and she chewed on her lower lip as James continued his speech.

"It's been a nightmare to consider that Harry's going to grow older and wonder why his dad was such an arse and never put a ring on his mum's finger." James smiled at her kindly, "And I didn't know how to tell you I was in love with you so I just—pulled away because I figured, I didn't deserve to have you love me back."

Lily leaned forward to press her forehead to his, closing her eyes as she whispered fiercely, "James, I wish you would've said something."

"I got plastered with the intention of saying something when you got home from your shift in the morning." James chuckled, "the night took a disastrous turn when Sirius dared me to do a triple backflip off the roof onto the trampoline."

"Wait." Lily yanked her head back, "Off the roof ?"

"Inside voices, Lily. My head aches." James winced at her high-pitched squeal but she didn't care, she was in distress.

"Yeah of course your head fucking aches!" Lily scolded, "I can't believe you jumped off our fucking roof onto the trampoline! You're an absolute idiot!"

"I was dared!"

"If Sirius dared you to jump off a bridge would you do it?"

"Lily…" James half moaned, half laughed, "have I told you that your mom-voice really turns me on?"

Lily pushed her fingers into her bun and tugged it as she stared at him in disbelief, "how can you—"

"Come here," he said for the third time that night, kissing her slowly until her mind left the roof and was back down to the hospital room.

"Marry me," he begged when he finally stopped kissing her useless.

Lily kept her eyes closed when she said, "maybe ask me again, tomorrow, when we're sure you only have a concussion and aren't bleeding from the brain."

She opened her eyes to see James staring at her in horror, "wait, what?"

She was pleased she'd scared him, even only a little, perhaps it'd keep him off their roof for the rest of his life. Lily touched his forehead lovingly before stepping away from his bed.

"Concussion is a brain injury and has to be taken seriously." She said in her medical voice, "You'll be sidelined from work until Dr. McKinnon clears you."

James' face was paler than it had been when lily told him she loved him, "Shite." He cussed, "McGonagall's gonna murder me, dig me up, make me run three hundred yards, and murder me again."

Lily hummed in agreement, "I already texted her."

"You didn't!" he wailed and she laughed at his despair, "Evans, she can never know how it happened!"

"Oh, you can bet your arse that I'm telling this story at least ten times at our wedding."

James considered this, opening and closing his mouth before settling with, "do you want to go ring shopping tomorrow?"

"Let's get you out of the hospital first." Lily told him, pulling back the curtain, "let me go find out where your nurse got too."

"You're the only nurse I need." He asked cheekily from his bed, "want to do a full body scan? We have three years of catching up to do."

Lily's eyes twinkled as she glanced back at James through his curtained door, "I do have bad news on that front."

"What's that?" James questioned.

"Until Marlene clears you in about three weeks, all physical activity is banned." Lily smirked when she saw the disappointment written all over his face.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do for three weeks if I can't shag you, run with Sirius, or play football?" He muttered moodily, playing with the covers on his hospital bed.

"I'm sure Harry has some safe options for you."

"Well his trampoline is broken now so—"

"I was thinking board games James, not death traps that Godfathers buy their godsons."

"Board games." James scoffed as she finally left him to find a nurse, "Our son needs to experience life. Jump on trampolines. Skateboard at the park. Not play board games."

"He's two."

James wrinkled, "I'm not playing chess with Harry, or he's going to end up liking folding laundry and doing the dishes on a school night."

"Just like his old-softy dad." Lily teased.

"I'm a football legend." He scoffed, "And I took six shots a tequila tonight like it was nothing."

"You ended up in the hospital," Lily laughed at him ridiculously.

"Only after doing a double backflip off a roof onto a trampoline." He countered.

"I can't beleive I'm marrying you." She said, although affectionately.

"Epic way to get engaged, if do say so myself."

"Stay put, I'm going to go find a nurse to see when your MRI is scheduled so I can make sure I'm not engaged to a dying man." Lily teased as the curtain shut between her and the stupidly (adorkable) love of her life.

"I'm gonna die anyways once McGonagall get's ahold of me." James' voice was muffled now, like he was slowly falling asleep.

"Good." Lily said, "maybe Harry and I will finally be able to watch something other than sports on the telly."

"You can't get rid of me that easily!" James called through the curtain barrier and she giggled behind her hand, "I'm feeling great, no concussions here!"

He was such a fucking liar, but she loved him either way.

[the-acid-pear]

so fun fact: i kinda have an au (and ask blog) for if Henry's wife Martha and son David had survived (the blog is ask-the-miller-family if you wanna send some asks).

long story short: neither of them really like him too much, but especially not Martha.

like, listen. i personally get it if people think that if Martha and David lived, then things would be better. i get it!! because them dying is technically what led to Henry learning about souls and thus getting kind of obsessed with learning about death and how to cheat it.

but...who's to say that he wouldn't have gotten fascinated another way? what if them living only delays the inevitable?

so...yeah.

Martha kinda knows what Henry's done, but like. That Was Back Before No Fault Divorce Was A Thing. she knows damn well what Henry's capable of doing and getting away with. and she doesn't want to potentially put David in danger as well.

David views Dave (our beloved purple man) as an older brother of sorts. so take that as you will.

Martha is an alcoholic and has issues with smoking (My Alcoholic Friends by the Dresden Dolls fits her pretty well), and uh. Henry's Bullshit doesn't help.

so now you're probably wondering: does Dave still go by...y'know, Dave since David's still alive?

and i have the funniest possible response to this:

so. Henry's son kinda eventually found out he was agender (he/they) later on in the timeline and started going by Dallas/Dally (based off that one Outsiders character, a book they were really into)

Dave started expressing how he would do anything to become Henry's son. Dally already views him like an older brother.

you see where this is going.

look, Dallas knew this was going to piss Henry off, but they honestly think it's fucking hilarious and also inherited the "Little Shit" gene in the family.

so long story short: Dally just kinda "handed over" the name to Dave. :)

- dogboyjackkennedy

OBSESSED OVER THE NAME PASSING THAT'S GENUINELY SO CUTE..... Though no shade on Dally but if someone told me they wanted to be my shitty parent's kid I'd have gone insane though no bullets enter Dave babygirl stubborn and blind when emotions are on the table so I get it.

Also I feel so bad for Martha fr what a dogshit life to live like even the weight of technically being complicit too bc she'd TRY stopping it but the cost of failure would be so high... Just sooo sad though that's also one of my fave songs so . hashtag girlboss? /silly

I'll def be checking out the blog tho let's hope I can fire enough neurons to send an ask too smfbgntb ^_^

[14dayswithyou]

The 14DWY brainrot is real... >_< were ypu planning on sharing koi ren's design here too or is it discord only for now? remember to drink lots n lots of water today 🐸☔️

i don't rmbr if i included this but can you share any koi crumbs too?

✦゜ANSWERED: aaaaa I'm 14 years late to this ask (/silly), but thank you for reminding me!! I'll add the new Mer Ren design to da queue >:3

I'll also put the Koi Ren (I'm rocking with this new name!!) crumbs under the cut!!

"Stop rocking the boat, Ren." Without sparing a glance in his direction, you continue to stare out into the vast, open lake. "You'll scare away all the fish."

Had you turned around, you would've seen the faux-deadpan look on his face as Ren takes in the irony of your words. As if to prove a point, he gently swishes his tail in the water, which causes small ripples to form and (eventually) disturb your bobber. "I don't think the boat is the problem here."

"Okay, how about this... One more fish, then we can go back." You finally look back at your scaley companion — who was still leaning against the edge of your tin boat with a lazy smile — and give him a resolute nod. "Promise."

"Sure," Ren casually reaches into the boat to pick and pluck at some of your live bait. "But you said that about the last three fish."

"This will be the last one. I swear."

"You... swear?" You try to ignore the way Ren swallows up one of your minnows as if you weren't using them for bait as he continues to speak, "Like... curse words? Humans sure are weird creatures."

As if realising his comment, Ren's ocean-blue eyes widen slightly and shift towards your form. "N-Not... Not you, though."

With a laugh, you playfully try to nudge him off of the boat. All it does is cause it to tip slightly, but Ren steadies it when you show signs of losing balance.

"Alright. One more fish, then?"

You nod and cast your attention back to your rod once more. You don't even notice the silence — nor Ren slipping away — until you suddenly feel a tug on your line and call out to your companion in excitement. "That was quick!"

Quickly reeling it in, you wonder what kind of fish you'd just caught — it's definitely stronger than you anticipated, given how the rod drastically bends and snaps at every movement from the fish. And just as you see the shadow from the murky depths get closer, the ripples get bigger and cause a stir underneath your tin boat. Standing up now, you try with all your might to reel it on board...

...Only for a mess of black hair to emerge from below and peer up at you with a smug look.

"Ren!"

"Looks like you got a big one."

"C'moooon." You practically whine, though you allow Ren to haul himself into your tiny boat and rest his head in your lap. You can still feel his body shake from underneath your touch, no doubt still laughing at his poor attempt at a joke. "This doesn't count."

A beat passes before your fishy companion responds. "...Hm? Fine then."

Another moment of silence follows before he slithers back into the water without another word. Half of you worries that you might've said something to offend him (there was still the tiniest hint of a language barrier between you two). Still, it ultimately leads to nothing as Ren soon emerges once more — only this time, he's hauling the biggest largemouth bass you'd ever seen into your boat.

"This good enough?" He looks at you with wide, blue eyes. "If not, I can probably find a sturgeon and—"

"It's bigger than my boat!"

"Is this what your kind calls... exaggeration? Because your boat is big enough even for me to—"

"—Arghh! It's getting water everywhere! Put it back!"

It was almost comical how Ren tossed the fish over his shoulder and back into the water without breaking eye contact with you.

Another wave of silence hits, yet neither of you seems to move or break the awkward staring contest you'd somehow started. It's then when you notice Ren's grin get bigger — most likely at your resignation and embarrassment — which causes you to fall back into your seat in defeat.

"Fine. Enough fishing for today. Let's head back." Busying yourself with the bucket of fish and tacklebox in front of you, you secure your gear and pack everything away. But it seems Ren had other plans, seeing as he took it upon himself to climb back into your boat and rest his arms on your legs. No longer able to move as freely, you have no choice but to indulge in his carefree whims.

"But you caught me. Aren't you going to bring me home too?"

"As much as I want to," Truly, you do. You've always wanted to show Ren the world outside of Lake Bluemoss. "There's no way I'm carrying you all the way down the mountain."

"You never know until you cry."

"Try." You correct him. "Until you try."

"Your kind sure are funny." Ren nuzzles himself closer. "Perhaps another time, then... Stay here tonight."

Your body pricks up at his words, and you spare a glance at the abandoned boathouse near the dock. Despite its rough and rugged exterior, you and Ren actually made it quite comfy. It had some of your old blankets and sheets thrown over one of the boats to make it comfortable to lounge in — alongside a giant empty tank that you and Ren filled with water for him to sit in as well. Despite the lack of human traction, the place still felt homey and well-loved.

"...I guess I could."

"Then what are we waiting shore?"

You had to roll your eyes at his attempt at a pun.

[nnight-dances]

LOVE & OTHER CLICHÉS

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader (ft. kim mingyu)

GENRE: fluff, angst, suggestive content

TROPES: brother's best friend, slow burn question mark, skirting around communication because that's a good plot point, jealousy as requested, banter, teasing, arbitrary social norms about words like "cute" and "sweet" pls don't listen to a word i say ever, etc.

WORD COUNT: 12k (for some reason)

The first time you re-meet Jeon Wonwoo, your brother Joshua's best friend, you think a lot of things. He does, too. It's really interesting how neither of you say exactly what you think.

"Y/N! Is that really you?" 

If you hadn't been on the phone with Karina when you heard Wonwoo's voice, you think you might've genuinely passed away because his voice is something of nostalgic value to you, something distant and definitely not in the same living room as you. You look up and your eyes widen when you find the man gaping at you. "-Oh, hi–" you shoot up from your seat on the couch and then quickly remember your friend still on the line. You tell her, "Sorry, Rina, mind if I call you back later? Okay, thanks, love you. Night." 

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you like you'd said something amusing and it's turn to take him in as you drop your phone onto the couch. "Wonwoo, god, you're alive?" you start with a small smile and continue, "Wow, um, you look… the same." What you mean to say is: How did you get even taller, you attractive bastard?

Wonwoo offers you one of his smug smiles at that and replies, "Thanks? I think. You look much more… grown up, you know." He really should've said: Holy shit, you're pretty. And then he opens his arms, "Bring it in, kid. Let's see if I can still get away with tackling you to the ground."

You scoff even as you step closer to him, ignoring the way his arms are a lot bigger than they once used to be when you tell him, "I think you're remembering it wrong, dude. I was the one tackling you."

 It's no use, though, because when he wraps his arms around you, you sigh contentedly because this right here? This is a hug. Wonwoo's so warm around you and you can only pretend that the way you feel his hard muscles tense around you doesn't send chills up your spine. Wonwoo's smiling wide, only barely controlling a comment about how good you smell and how you might've grown taller but somehow still manage to fit just the same in his arms.

All in all, it's a pretty sweet reunion. You haven't seen each other in over five years so the curiosity and surprise is barely uncalled for. You only wished you could've held onto the hug longer before Joshua entered the room with a disgusted grimace on his face.

"Gross. Can you guys not do that?" 

You're the first to pull away with a flustered sigh at Joshua's comment, rolling your eyes. Wonwoo tries to cover up the way he's slightly out of breath by countering, "Why? You can't handle us interacting like two normal humans? Want us to claw at each other's eyeballs like the good old times?"

–

"I don't get it, though," Wonwoo tells you, a slice of donkatsu hovering near his mouth, "Why didn't you just move in with Shua?"

"That's what I've been asking her! Haven't I been a good enough brother to you? What did I do wrong? Huh?" 

You'd already seen Joshua's reaction coming, sipping the beer from your glass to brace yourself. "And as I've politely reminded you many times, big brother, it's not personal. I just thinking that would be the equivalent of moving back in with my parents. Plus, I can afford to live alone now, remember? The promotion that came with the reallocation?"

Joshua flashes you the unconvinced glare he always does when you reason with him. But you train your eyes on Wonwoo instead, determined to get him on your side at least. "It would be waste to just live with him and not do the independent thing. Plus, I literally live across from you, man, so I might as well be moving in with you."

Wonwoo nods quietly as he washes his bite down with some beer, "Hmm. That's fair enough. I don't know why Shua's been whining about it then."

You break into a pleased laugh at that where your brothers gasps in offense. "Hey, Jeon Wonwoo, whose side are you supposed to be on here?"

Wonwoo shrugs, "I'm on the side of logic, my man, I'm sorry."

"God, don't let her fool you. She says all this reasonable stuff but–"

"Oh, so you agree that it's reasonable then?" you question him with a raised brow but he ignores you as he spews his nonsense. 

"-- But the real reason she wants to live alone is so she can get laid."

You hit Joshua real hard in the arm at that, "Ew, dude, don't be a pervert." 

Wonwoo looks postively entertained between the two of you as he provokes you, "What does he mean?"

"Fuck if I know. I don't know what gave this guy the idea that I like to sleep around, if anything, he's the player."

Joshua narrows his eyes at you, "Uh-huh, me, the guy who was in a long-term relationship of nearly five years?"

"Emphasis on was in a relationship. How many people have you slept with since then? I don't want to know. I'm just making a point."

Wonwoo chuckles, "She's right, man. You're not exactly on the higher ground here."

"Okay, okay, but I did overhear you telling your friend that, quote, living with my brother would be the greatest clockbock there is, end quote."

Your jaw falls open when you hear him recount your words to Karina only a few hours ago. "You're eavesdropping on my calls? Wow, see, this is why I don't want to live with you."

"You weren't exactly very quiet! And you were sitting in the living room, too!"

"Whatever," you roll your eyes and then catch the questioning look Wonwoo sends your brother and you take matters in your own hands. "Fine, I said that because I mean, yeah, it's not like the hottest thing to be living with your brother, okay? Like what if I meet a cute guy and lose him to the fact that Shua's the biggest prude to exist?"

"Man, you just made a player, and now I'm a prude? Choose a story, goddamn it!" 

You shrug with a grin, "People can be two things, bro."

– 

"So, you all moved in yet?" Wonwoo asks you and you try to ignore how silly he looks with the edges of his glasses fogged up against the heat of the coffee in his hands. Last week, he'd texted you asking if you'd like to get coffee and catch up. You'd replied with a goofy grin playing on your lips at 1 AM with a: sure :))) if u pay!

You hum as you stir your own latte, "I think so. But everytime I think it's all done, there's always something small I forgot. Like, this morning I realized I don't have wine glasses."

He chortles, "Ah, I know what you mean. Something small but inconvenient. Like a good night lamp."

"Ugh, I need one of those, too. I brought my old one with me but ended up leaving it in the study because I didn't have one there." You sigh as you slump in your seat, "God, I hate moving. I'll have age twenty years by the time I'm fully done."

Wonwoo watches you with a bemused smile. "I can help you with shopping, if you'd like."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's not like I moved in recently but I still remember some good places for this stuff. And it might be less tiresome if you have some company." 

Your replying smile is so genuine that it's got Wonwoo smiling and he thinks he's helping you out more for himself than Joshua. It's an unsettling thought for a moment but then your voice pipes back up with an anecdote from your work and he can't care for the thoughts. 

"...So, you have any luck finding cute guys to bring home?"

The question catches you off-guard and your grip on the wine glass you were inspecting loosens dangerously, but you hold onto it before it can break like your pretense of sanity. 

"God," you groan as you look at a chuckling Wonwoo who's standing next to you, arms crossed in that infuriatingly attractive way. "I was slightly drunk when I said that, so it would be nice if you forgot about it."

"Why? I mean, it's understandable you'd want to get into the dating pool here. It's one way to get to know a new city."

You turn all your attention to a different glass. "I guess. But I haven't had too much luck, no. Maybe waiting around to find love organically is my problem."

Wonwoo doesn't immediately respond to that, making you uneasy and sending heat to your ears. Whatever. You'd just have to scream into your pillow and cry yourself to sleep so you could forget this embarrassment. 

"Hmm, I don't know. It'll just take more time that way, I suppose. If you're willing to wait."

It's your turn to go mute except this time the silence is comfortable, only broken by a comment here and there about the glasses. 

"What about you?" you ask Wonwoo at checkout, watching the worker wrap up your chosen set of glasses in bubble wrap. "Are you… with someone?"

Wonwoo's lips twitch with a small smile at your question. "Not at the moment. I like the space of being single." You nod in understanding. 

"And I haven't really met anyone worth spending my time with," he says, eyes floating to you as he pushes his glasses up with a finger. 

You pause at his words, thanking the cashier for their help and making your way to the exit. "You make it sound like dating's a chore, Wonwoo."

He shrugs with a shoulder, "It can be. With the wrong person."

– 

"So… tell me all about your hot brother's hot best friend?" 

"Ew and ew, Karina, do you want me to block you for real this time?" 

"I'm just being honest but all right, do you want to talk about your years-old crush on your brother's best–"

"That's not any better. And I don't have crush on him. Also, it would really nice if we didn't say the word crush anymore. We're both adults with jobs."

"And adults with jobs aren't allowed to have a little fun?" Karina's voice is laced with laughter and you groan in frustration. Who has she been hanging out with to make her so much worse? Not you. 

"Anyway, since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you. My older brother is okay. And so is Wonwoo. There."

A few minutes of further pestering from Karina and you finally let slip that Wonwoo and you have been hanging out here and there, sometimes over coffee that led to shopping dates (Karina's words, not yours) and other times spent over at Joshua's, drinking or playing video games on his couch. It was pretty cozy and you couldn't really complain about this new life.

"Oh, so you don't miss me then, huh? Nice to know. But also it seems like you're hitting it off with Wonwoo and before you cut me off, you did like Wonwoo for like half your childhood, remember? Maybe this could become something. Who knows?"

Oh, you remember. It was you who spent long summer afternoons staring at Wonwoo as he came over to your home after class, spending all his time arguing with Joshua about a card game they'd been playing or about which villain was cooler in the new movie they'd watched. For a while, it had been a distant thing but over time, you'd warmed up to them and started talking more to Wonwoo, now a regular participant in their arguments. 

And as it turns out, it doesn't take a lot of arguments to fall for Jeon Wonwoo.

– 

One thing about you is that you're stubborn. You like to think it's a genetic thing because the only person who could rival your firmness was none other than your brother. And this meant that when Karina tried to convince you that you still had a soft spot for Wonwoo, you tried to tell her that's all it was: a soft spot. Like a platonic affinity for someone you'd spent a lot of time with growing up.

And you reasoned it out with yourself that night, thinking back to the time you'd spent with him recently. It was familiar in the best way possible. Where meeting new people at work was absolutely exhausting, coming back home to your brother and Wonwoo was like a hug to your soul.

Speaking of hugs, your mind rolled over to the one you'd shared with Wonwoo a few weeks ago, an event that you often found yourself thinking. As sane and rational as you thought yourself to be, the way you'd find yourself unable to control a giggle in the dark every time you remembered the way you all but melted into his arms, strong but fond in their embrace around your waist. 

And when you come to your senses, you realize it's ridiculous how stuck up on that hug you are. It's stupid your smile that breaks through anyway and the way your heart beats faster when you remember the plans you'd made with Wonwoo for tomorrow, a trip to a local bookstore because he had found your collection of books lacking the day he'd come over for a visit.

You roll over in bed then, groaning a little because you're starting to think the soft spot might be… growing. 

–

"You know I really didn't think I would spend this much on books today," you mumble as you tap your card at the register. It was almost funny how many conversations you and Wonwoo have had at check-out, almost inevitable because often the shopping experience itself meant a lot of focused silence as the two of you browsed around in tandem. 

It was a weirdly heartwarming way to spend time together. Or maybe that was just you and your weakness for quality time. 

"What do you mean? We literally mutually decided that you needed a better collection." Wonwoo leans against the counter with a cocked brow.

"Well, the mutual part is up for discussion. It's more like you shamed me for keeping a modest book collection. And I mean, I wasn't so sure if I'd find anything good here."

"Really?" he asks, picking up the heavy bag from the counter before you can reach for it, "Because I remember you agreeing pretty quickly and enthusiastically to my proposition to go book-shopping."

"That was only because you made it sound like fun." And it meant that I'd get to spend more time with you. "And it was fun. So that's one thing you're right about."

Wonwoo's smile turns smug as you exit the bookstore, each with a paper bag in hand. You'd settled for carrying Wonwoo's own purchase of two new books that he'd apparently been meaning to come out and buy. 

"Anyway, now what? You wanna go to my place and break into one of these bad boys?" You shake the bag in your hand with a gleeful grin. But Wonwoo's looking at the mall across from you with mouth slightly ajar in concentration. And then he smiles, pure excitement plastered across his face when looks back at you.

"I have a much better idea." That's all he says before his unoccupied hand finds yours and tugs you after him. Admittedly, you're a little dizzy at the sudden touch and let him pull you across the road with quick steps, struggling to keep up with him. At the back of your head, you store away how attractive it is that Wonwoo's holding a good dozen books in a hand and yours in the other, racing ahead like it was the most important thing in the world. And honestly? If it was with Wonwoo, you think you feel the urgency in your veins as if it were travelling across your intertwined palms.

It's a good day to be a romantic for you, as you later find out, standing in line with Wonwoo to purchase tickets to a newly released movie. The genre? Rom-com.

"Well, it's not so much a rom-com as the poster makes it seem. That's actually a deft marketing stunt. It's actually a pretty serious movie about love and I've heard it's not for the weak."

So many questions. You have so many questions. 

For one, "I didn't know you were into romantic movies," you comment, watching Wonwoo from the corner of your eye, too afraid to look him in the eye now that your hand was no longer in his.

"It's possible to avoid romance. Everything is about love these days, even if it isn't."

You also can't believe that you're about to watch a movie with Wonwoo. It's all strangely… different. You'd never been to the movies alone with him. It's a new territory for you. But you're not mad. If anything, the smile on your lips is playful. 

"And it's not just that you're too scared to admit that you like rom-coms?"

"I'm not. Into rom-coms, I mean. The humor is straight-up bad and the romance is tolerable at best. It's like if you're going to do a x to death, you might as well do it well."

"I can't believe this," you mutter more to yourself than him, "Jeon Wonwoo watching a rom-com? This must be a dream."

"You dream about me, hmm?" 

You narrowly avoid whiplash when you turn to look at Wonwoo, his teasing only another addition to the list of things you didn't think you'd hear your brother's best friend every say to you. But the more you know, huh?

The movie itself is insane. The plot is devastating enough on its own but the way Wonwoo's shoulder pressed into yours the whole time, despite there being more than enough space between the two seats, has you more vulnerable than usual. So find yourself tearing up halfway through the movie and sit through the credits with half-contained sobs. And where Wonwoo had laughed at your tears mid-way, when he noticed your sobs, his hand found your back, rubbing it comfortingly. 

"That was horrific," you mumble when you're less overcome with sadness and pout at Wonwoo. "I hate you for making me watch that. I will never find happiness. And worse, I will never find love."

Your words, punctuated with that small pout of yours, has Wonwoo a breath away from falling to his knees with his head in hands because fuck, you're adorable. And truth be told, he was tearing up at the end, too, but he wouldn't let you know that because the way you accuse him for your state is just incredibly precious to him. 

"It was terrific," he corrects you, "And I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd get so emotional."

You glare at Wonwoo at that, as if you hadn't just been dabbing at your eyes with his pocket tissues, "Okay, Mister Emotionless, don't think I didn't catch you wiping tears away in the closing scene."

Wonwoo shoots a guilty grin and pats your head, "You're cute." 

The statement leaves you speechless enough that Wonwoo gets away with it, starting to walk away with a gaping you in his wake. You're deeply confused and slightly jittery when you finally catch up to him with a small "I wasn't trying to be" of affront under your breath. 

– 

"That's bad, right, isn't it? It's so bad. It's horrible."

"Calm down, Y/N, he called you cute, just so we're clear? Not a bunch of bad words right? So why is it bad?" 

"Because!" you cry out, "Because cute is like the most platonic adjective. I thought we were having a moment, what with a movie date and all– but if he thinks I'm cute then I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong." 

"Okay, I know what you mean but that's not always how things work. I mean, you said he held your hand and stuff, right? That's more than platonic. And it's all about the tone. Cute can be a very romantic word if in the right context."

"The context," you tell Karina with a sigh, "is that he's my brother's best friend! He couldn't make it any clearer. Wow, and I was all up in my head over him, too."

"Can we just take a moment to acknowledge how I told you that you still had feelings for Wonwoo?"

"We will do no such thing. Because the feelings are gone now!" 

"Right. I believe you, Y/N," Karina deadpans over the phone, "You can call me when you're done being an idiot. Bye."

– 

It's Karina's sarcastic tone that your thoughts catch onto the next few days, the ones you spend half in agony because Wonwoo hasn't contacted you and after your personal dilemma, you think you'd let someone shoot you before you texted him first. 

So you try your best to distract yourself with work, showing up earlier than you'd built a reputation for, and staying a little later than most. It's a new routine for you, one that leaves you pretty tired in a way that your bones are not used to. 

Maybe that's why your legs don't seem to be working that morning when you bump into someone on your way to the coffee machine. You'd been rubbing your neck, trying to feel out the knot that you'd woken up with, and had effectively lost track of where you were going and collided with a solid figure, sending a few steps back.

You sigh as you regain your balance, ever so thankful that you didn't fall flat on your butt as you look up at the person in front you. He's tall enough that you should've seen him coming so you're first to apologize. "Shit, sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going. Sorry about that!"

"No, no, I should've been more careful. I'm lucky I wasn't carrying a coffee or that could've been really bad. I'm sorry." The man's voice is hoarse and he talks over himself, as if eager to get all his thoughts before he forgets what he's saying. 

You meet his eyes with a small smile, "I guess we're both at fault, huh?" 

He reciprocates your smile with crescent eyes. "Yup. Can I get you a coffee as reparation?" 

"I mean, it's not a big deal at all."

"I insist," the man levels his gaze at you and you wonder how he looks like he could throw you across the room without breaking a sweat, but still manages to be so soft. 

"I'm Mingyu, by the way," he tells you as he hands you a cup of warm coffee. "Thanks Mingyu. I'm Y/N."

"I've seen you around. You were a new hire, right?"

You take your time with a sip of your coffee before responding, "Yes, I was originally at another branch but my leader wanted me closer to headquarters before they opened up new branches in this city. I don't know, something exposure for me and experience for them."

"You must be good if they sent you here," Mingyu points out and you brush it off with a noncomittal shrug. You find yourself pleasantly enamoured by Mingyu for the next ten minutes or so and you wonder how you'd missed him at all in the first place. But when he tells you he better get going, you nod with a smile, "Of course. It was nice meeting you, Mingyu."

Mingyu becomes the perfect distraction, as one might predict he would. He has a unique charm, what with the contrast between his intimidating physique but surprisingly shy demeanour. He's the textbook golden retriever in people and though you're not a dog person, you find yourself grow fonder of him every time you run into him near the coffee machine or while leaving work in the elevator. 

"You have a work crush?"

You groan loudly, throwing a half-eaten cracker at Joshua. "Come on, what is it with all the people I know and having the most childish vocabulary?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I not erudite enough for you? You know it may not seem like it but I am four years older than you and I have that much more–"

"Yeah, yeah, something about experience and knowledge, I've heard it before. And by the way, it's technically three years and three months, not that I'm counting."

"You very clearly are," Joshua points out with a frustrated laugh, "Anyway, you gonna make a move on this guy?"

"No, because if you were actually listening to me, you'd have heard that I like him as a friend and that I need help buying a gift for his birthday."

"Right, right," your brother mumbles in thought, "And that's next week?"

You nod as you pick your phone up, scrolling through the chat with Mingyu to reach the text he'd sent you a day ago: by the way, i'm throwing for my birthday on the 6th. love it if you came ;)

Winky emoji and slightly short notice aside, you'd replied as enthusiastically as you could muster: your birthday??? when were you going to tell me!! and: ofc i'll be there but not before i make you suffer for hiding smth so imp from me :(((

Before you can squeeze any more vaguely helpful tips from Joshua, his bell rings and you sit up with a frown as he stands up to get it. "Ah, Wonwoo's here."

"Wonwoo?" is your shocked gasp to that information, body going stiff because you'd seen him only in passing since the day of the movie. You think you might pass out. Why does nobody think it's important to tell you anything these days? 

You hear their voices in the corridor as Joshua lets Wonwoo in and your mind races with your options. Hiding in the bathroom for the night would be feasible if your brother wasn't a monster who would drag you out within thirty minutes. Maybe you climb out a window? But you were on the eight floor and as much as you liked to joke about death, you'd prefer to escape alive. 

Your brother's voice breaks you out of your scheming, alerting you they're in the living room. "Oh yeah, Y/N, here's someone with not childish vocabulary if you want to replace me." 

You look over your shoulder with a scowl but immediately lose your spirit when you lock eyes with Wonwoo, a lopsided smile greeting you. He's wearing a cozy sweater that's a shade of blue so dark that it might as well be black and you want to start crying because his hands are concealed beneath the sleeves, fists turned sweater paws as he stands there, looking between you and your brother. 

"Why are you two fighting this time?" 

"Nothing." "She has a crush at work." 

Wonwoo lets out a sigh when you both answer simultaneously but seems intrigued by Joshua's statement, eyeing him. "What did you say?"

"She has a–" 

"I'm warning you, if you say the word crush one more time, I will do something so unimaginable to your face at night–"

"She likes a guy from work."

Wonwoo looks surprised as he looks back at you inquisitively and you frown. "Untrue. It's just a guy I made friends with recently. And I only mentioned him so I could get advice but clearly, nobody here supports me so I'm going to take this conversation elsewhere."

"I support you." Wonwoo's quick response has you freezing in your dramatic exit and you turn to look at him in doubt but when his expression is clear of any mischief, you sit back down. 

"Nice to know. But I'd love it if we talked about something else for now. Like dinner." 

The night takes on a more comfortable journey from thereon, with the three of you ordering take-out and fighting it out with a card game while it was on its way. You were actually proud of yourself for acting normal around Wonwoo, despite all your past internal conflict. And you would've gone to sleep somewhat peacefully if he hadn't approached you in the kitchen, while Joshua was taking out trash, having lost the game. 

You were placing the leftovers in the fridge when Wonwoo materialized behind you, the only warning of his presence the question he asks you, "You want any help?" 

You barely hold in a surprised squeak as you spin around to him. "Goddamn it, Wonwoo, make some noise next time you sneak up on me?"

"Then I wouldn't be sneaking up on you, would I?"

You roll your eyes, closing the fridge behind you as you declare, "Well, I'm done here. Thanks for washing the dishes, by the way."

"Sure, I know how much you Hongs hate touching water. I was surprised you installed a faucet in your kitchen at all."

You give Wonwoo a push in response, "That's a very funny way to conceal the fact that you lost at rock paper scissors." 

"I just think it was an unfair way to decide tasks. I'm really bad at that game."

"Right, and assuming one can be good or bad at a game of rock paper scissors, what else would you have preferred to play?"

Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with an idea and then, he puts up a hand and wiggles it around in your face. "Arm wrestling."

Your smile falls, "No. That's just–"

"See," he points at you, "That's how I feel about rock paper scissors." 

Despite how much you claim that the two games are not at all on the same par, you let Wonwoo drag you to the kitchen table, standing across from you and arm ready for the wrestling. Slowly, you lean closer to him, hand coming to rest against his.

"Don't be too cocky," you mumble when his hand squeezes yours, already triumphant before the game had begun. The result of the game itself is pretty obvious but when you start to wrestle and feel Wonwoo's forearm tense against you, it has you light-headed. Your eyes leave the match to look at him, only to find him watching you with a glint in his eye. He smiles when you make eye-contact with him, going strangely silent for all his gloating a minute ago. You raise a brow at him and the bastard has the audacity to send a wink your way before pressing your arm against the wood of the table.

"Whatever," you tell him before his already obnoxious grin can swell any more. He opens his mouth and you're already anticipating something insulting to meet your eyes. But instead, Wonwoo says, "Your hand's so small." You look up at him only for him to take your hand in his and carefully line it against his own palm. 

You feel your cheeks burn. It's all so cliché, especially if he's flirting with you. Arm-wrestling turns into a hand-measuring contest. So trite. And yet, you find yourself smiling.

"See?" your hand wriggles, imitiating Wonwoo from earlier, "This game was rigged. Maybe if you had a handicap or something."

"Okay, I think I better leave before you take a knife and cut my hand up or something…"

– 

wonwoo: hello you

you: hi?

wonwoo: heard there's live music at the pub today. wanna come with?

you: ok creep

wonwoo: excuse me??? just informed you of a one in lifetime opportunity. shua's treating

you: WAIT he is???????

you: the one time i can't come?

wonwoo: you can't?

you: yes… have to attend a coworker's birthday party tonight. sorry :(

wonwoo: u should be sorry

wonwoo: imagine how much damage we could've done to joshua's wallet

You throw yourself into your sheets with a disappointed sigh, stomach uneasy at the thought of missing a hang-out with your favorite duo. But then you roll over to your side and think it's better if you go out with people who you didn't grow up with, for once. It might be a new experience. Just to be clear, this was Karina's voice resounding in your head. She had her way of giving you advice without you calling her for it. 

Three hours later, you're tiring yourself out at Mingyu's birthday party. It's intense, the party, bustling with people but then again, you'd be a fool to think Mingyu wouldn't have a roster full of friends to invite to a party. You meet the man of the night an hour into the party and he throws his hands around when he recognizes you. 

"Y/N, I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Of course. Happy birthday, Mingyu!" 

He leans over the bar and yells something at the bartender who eyes Mingyu and upon recognizing him as the birthday boy, places two shots in front of you. 

"Have a shot with me?" Mingyu grins, a slight layer of sweat shining on his forehead. You chuckle in defeat, "Sure, why not?" 

A shot turns into two and you're working on swallowing the third one when your phone buzzes in the back-pocket of your denim shorts. You're about to take a look at the caller ID and decline almost immediately but when you realize it's Wonwoo calling you, you pause. You excuse yourself from Mingyu's side quickly, making your way to a slightly quieter cornern of the party and answer.

"Wonwoo?" 

"Oh," comes Wonwoo's voice, a little distant, and he seems shocked as if he hadn't expected you to pick up. "Hey, Y/N. How are you?"

"Um. I'm fine, Wonwoo, just at that party I told you about. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. You're not too drunk, are you?" he asks, ironically slurring the question. 

"I should be asking you that question. Wonwoo, where's Joshua? Do you need me to come pick you up?"

"No," his voice is laced with disbelief, "I'm fine. Just a little tipsy. Sorry, you should get back to the party."

"Yeah," you reply, feeling a little uneasy as the liquid in your stomach sloshes around with each movement you make.

"Stay safe, Y/N. Call me if you need anything? I'm gonna go find Shua now."

Before you can ask him what he means by finding Joshua, Wonwoo's hung up on you, almost as quickly as he called you. Okay, so that was weird. And cool, now you're nauseous. 

– 

When Wonwoo drunk-calls you, he thinks he's officially lost you. If you didn't find him weird before, you probably thought him a lot weird now. That's great, he thinks. But the regret of his decision doesn't outweigh the need to see you right now, something about the fact that you're at some guy's birthday party making him all worked up. It should be obvious why he's like this but Wonwoo can avoid a serious thought for days if it keeps him slightly more sane than usual. 

But then the Joshua's bell rings and he opens the door, finding you standing there just like he'd imagined a few minutes ago. You're in a slouchy shirt that unbuttoned all the way to your mid-torso to reveal a black bikini top. He clears his throat to contain the thought that threatens to escape him: fuck, you look hot. 

"Shit," you exclaim when you see Wonwoo, "This isn't my place. Ugh. I'm stupid."

Wonwoo steps closer to you, "Are you okay, Y/N? Did you just get back?"

You nod silently and then take a step back from him. "Sorry, I'm just gonna go to the right place. You can sleep… or whatever."

"Wait, no," he rushes to your side, taking your elbow in his hand, "I'll help you."

You roll your eyes, "It's okay, I'm not drunk, Wonwoo. And by the looks of it, neither are you." But you don't push off the hand on you and simply let him follow you to your door, "Is Shua already asleep?"

"Hmm, he passed out. I don't know why he claims to be heavyweight when he can barely handle alcohol. I had force him to leave the pub before he made himself sick."

You listen intently, unlocking the door with a hum, "He's an idiot." You throw the door open and Wonwoo lets himself in after you. He's clearly not too sober because when you bend down to take of your shoes and your ass juts out dangerously close to his crotch, he almost falls over in an attempt to jump away to give you space. But he remains close just in case you stumble, his own shaky state be damned.

But you're unnervingly stable as you stand back up, taking your hand off the wall when you're done taking your shoes off and brushing them against yourself with a suspicious look thrown at him– unnerving because Wonwoo just wants an excuse to get his hands on you somehow. You're effortlessly magnetic, moving across the hall to your kitchen to pour yourself some water, still unebelievably stable, and Wonwoo follows you in a trance-like manner.

"You want something to drink?"

Your question hangs in complete silence and it's only when you look over at Wonwoo that he comprehends that you're asking him. He clears his throat again, "Um, I don't want to bother you if you want to go to bed." 

You raise a shoulder nonchalantly, "'M not sleepy. And you're here so we might as well hang." You disappear from his sight as you crouch down behind the counter, sliding open a shelf, "I have some shiraz I've been meaning to break open, if you're up for it?" 

"Oh, that sounds great actually," he replies and you reappear with two wine glasses in your hand. You beam at him and he feels a thrill down his spine, recognizing the set you'd bought with him. "Great. Go sit in the living room and I'll be right there." 

"No, I'll help you get the stuff."

You pause your movements toward the liquor shelf, "Come on, I thought it was clear I'm not drunk by now."

"I know," Wonwoo walks closer to you, picking up the glasses you'd set down earlier, "Just want to be here with you." 

You turn back around and Wonwoo doesn't know it's to hide the flush that colors your face at his confession. You spend a minute too long picking out the shiraz to recover and you're glad Wonwoo also doesn't know that you could pick the bottle of red out without actually looking. 

"Geez, I've got sand in my feet now," you complain as you take your first sip of the wine from your glass when you catch sight of the particles lodged in your toes. 

"Sand?" questions Wonwoo as he leans over to get a look. 

"Yeah, it was a beach-themed party," you tell him. He nods, thinking that your outfit makes a lot more sense now. "Mingyu's a silly guy for someone who's turning twenty-five."

"Mingyu, huh?" Wonwoo tries out the name, watching out for how you react. You don't give away much, simply taking another sip but your chest burns for reasons other than alcohol. 

"Hmm, yeah." 

"So do you like him? Joshua seems pretty convinced about it."

You hide your face against the couch, "Fuck Joshua. He's an idiot." 

"So you've said."

"No, but really. Mingyu's a sweet guy and all, but he's… not my type."

Now this is something Wonwoo can work with, relief flooding his veins at your honest reply. "What is your type?"

You meet Wonwoo's gaze for the first time in this conversation and groan again. In your head, you can't help but be burdened by how unbelievably cliché your situation is. Your brother's best friend sitting next to you swirling a glass of red wine, asking you about the guy you liked when it was clearly him you liked. In fact, you think your entire relationship with Wonwoo's always been full of clichés: falling for his charm as a youth and growing into the feelings long after, hanging out with him as grown-ups, going on dates that are left unlabelled, measuring hands with him for fuck's sake– It was a little too on the nose, you think. 

But you don't tell Wonwoo any of this, maybe because you're too scared to or maybe you'd liked to see the plot thicken a little. "I don't have a type." 

Wonwoo is surprisingly quick to leave the topic alone after that and you're thankful, but half-irked because you'd hoped for more. But you can't complain when he has you wrapped up in a completely different conversation, distracting enough that you can barely remember how you finished the wine in your glass. 

"Want a refill?" he asks you when the empty glasses have been sitting on the coffee table for long enough. 

"Mhm, I think I'll have some apple juice instead."

"As you wish." 

He doesn't even bother asking you where you keep your juice and takes off with the glasses to the kitchen. You watch him keenly, letting your heart lead your mind for a little as you take in how cozy the night is when you're in Wonwoo's company.

It's with that uncontrollable giddy smile on your face that Wonwoo catches you. 

"Happy about something?" he asks, placing a cup with golden liquid in front of you and keeping his glass of wine next to it. 

"Yeah. About everything. I'm happy."

Wonwoo smiles, arm reaching to your side and squeezing your hand in a way that leaves you thinking that you might actually like physical touch more than you've been led to think. "I like the sound of that."

Your smile only turns goofier. "What about you? Are you happy?" 

He huffs out a breathy laugh, "I'm not too bad myself. Things have been looking up recently."

Fucking fuck, even everything you say to each other sounds like it's been said before, somewhere else in an idealistic movie about two people slowly falling in love with each other. But you can't get yourself to hate the idea so you simply shift closer to him. 

Wonwoo notices, obviously, and smiles a little because he notices the light dusting of red on your cheeks. Your hair's come undone from what was presumably a low bun at the back of your head and he has an itch to brush the strands away from your face– a thought that if you were privy to would only be an addition the list titled reasons why wonwoo and you are a straight-up cliché.

But you find out soon anyway, because Wonwoo acts on the itch, hand coming to cup your face before a few fingers find the crown of your head, gently tucking the stray hair behind your ear. 

You hum in satisfaction and Wonwoo's heart hammers, thinking that is probably the best reaction he could've hoped for. He takes a sip of the wine in his hand and moves to rest his face on his fist. 

Except you intercept him mid-way, closing the space between you with a noise of surprise that Wonwoo lets out when he feels your warm lips against his. The shock causes the wine in his mouth to bleed into yours, just like you'd hoped, and before Wonwoo can act on your advance, you've already pulled back.

Your smile is warm with shyness when you notice the starstruck expression on Wonwoo's face. "Sorry, I wanted to taste the wine." 

Wonwoo's silent as he processes this, moving slower thanks to the wine in his sytsem and now– the feeling of your kiss on his mind. When he does break from the silence, he moves to take another sip of wine and this time it's him crossing over to you, big palm steadying your jaw so he can spill into you, literally and not. You let out a little noise this time, not expecting him to reciprocate your shameless move but delighted anyway as you move against his mouth. 

There's a third kiss. And you pull away with a dreamy sigh because really, this was straight out of your dreams. Wonwoo rests his head on his hand like he'd intended to about three kisses earlier and watches as you avert your gaze, suddenly bashful. You fix your gaze on the coffee table, proud that you'd finally chosen to place it opposite the couch instead of near the bookshelf. 

"I haven't dated anyone for a while, you know," Wonwoo suddenly blurts out, your hair once again in your face when you turn to face him. "I was in a pretty… fucked-up relationship after high school and that made me give up on love altogether."

You listen attentively, eyes on his as he tells about the person he was with, voice dropping to a soft octave. When he finishes you find his hands with a smile, "Thank you for telling me that. And I'm sorry. You deserve so much better than that. You're a pretty solid guy."

"Really?" Wonwoo's mood turns light again at your comment and you try to maintain your composure, reminding yourself that his smile might be casual but your words still hold weight. 

"Yeah, you're a rare find, Wonwoo. Quiet but not boring, witty yet funny, tall but nice to hug." 

You bite your lip at that last part, clearly giving yourself away. But Wonwoo's eyes light up anyway, "Nice to hug, huh? That's a new compliment. Glad to know." 

You can feel him lean closer to you without looking because his voice is closer to your ears. Flustered, you reach for your abandoned apple juice and take a sip, but overestimate your own sobriety because you manage to spill a third of it on yourself. "Fuck," you curse under your breath and throw your head back against the couch in frustration over yourself. 

"Fuck," Wonwoo echoes you, shifting beside you, "You okay? Wait here, I'll get you a towel." He's already standing up by the time you have it in you to find your footing. You stop him with a slightly damp hand on his arm.

"It's okay, I'll just go throw this in the laundry. Needed to change anyway." 

Wonwoo nods as he makes way so you can pad lightly to your room, ears adorably red. He lets out a heavy breath when you close the door behind you though, placing a hand against chest because the sight of your half-exposed chest slightly wet with juice– well, it was doing more things to him that he'd like. Your low expletive followed by your limp body hadn't helped his wild imagination either, instantly wondering what it might be like to run his hands through– 

"All right, that's it. I need some fresh air." Fresh air so he could feel less like a pervert and more like… normal. And it helps to step out onto your balcony, the scenery of the moonlit night a pleasant surprise to his senses. He hums happily, almost forgetting about his preoccupied thoughts entirely.

And then he hears your voice resound in the living room faintly. He calls out your name, telling you to come out to the balcony, and a minute later, you step out, now clad in a cozy night set, matching blue shirt with shorts. "Hey," you mumble as you join him near the railing, body visibly relaxing in the night air. "Woah, it's nice here."

"It is, isn't it?" 

"Yeah, this is actually my first time coming out here since I moved in. I always figured this place would be full of spider webs and like bird shit." 

Wonwoo chuckles, "I mean we're probably standing on something that's not supposed to be here but it's for us to worry about tomorrow." 

– 

When you wake up the next morning, it takes you a good amount of groaning and screaming to figure out if last night was real. Taking shots with Mingyu at his birthday bash? Understandable. Receiving a call from a self-proclaimed tipsy Wonwoo? Confusing but not impossible. Inviting Wonwoo over for wine and ending up making out with him? Insane. 

What's worse, you couldn't really remember how the night had ended, a consequence of your inebriated self combining with sleep deprivation. But that was a pretty important thing to remember, wasn't it? It could be difference between a regretful farewell and a promising one. You don't know which one would ease the storm in your stomach faster. 

You roll over to unlock your phone and sit up when you see you have two unread texts. And then, you see they're both from Mingyu. 

mingyu: thanks for coming last night :D

mingyu: sorry i couldn't see u out. hope you made it home safe! 

You sigh in barely contained disappointment as you throw your phone back into the sheets, looking up at the ceiling. You suppose you ought to do something about the Mingyu situation soon but right now, you find the idea of suffocating in your bedsheets for the next two hours much more comforting. 

– 

See now, this right here is your problem. As much as you complained about hating being a cliché, you kind of wish your situation with Wonwoo was more of a cliché because right now doesn't exactly feel like something out of a film.

It feels like hard cold reality. And it's not the first time either.

1: things will happen between you and Wonwoo: he holds your hand, he kisses your lips.

2: he doesn't text you about it and you're too much of a coward to force him out of his shell.

3: things end up all in the air. And now, you're miserable.

But later that evening, you find out there's more to this list of not-so-cliché things that happen between you and Wonwoo.

4: you run into Wonwoo at your brother's place.

He's so casual, too, dressed in a plaid shirt and lounging on Joshua's couch, gaming his time away. You almost immediately regretting making an impromptu trip to your brother's place but it's too late to back out because Joshua's already set the dinner table for three. How you despise your extroverted, loving brother. 

"Did you make that deadline you were complaining about yesterday?" Joshua asks you over a spoonful of his soup. You nod, "Yeah, turns out it was easier when I stopped whining about it."

Wonwoo lets out a laugh, earning him a look from you which you quickly retract, going back to your quiet self when the two engage in conversation. You're glad to ignore but they find it less than easy to, given how unusual your disengagement is. Wonwoo does have an idea for your mood but he doesn't feel like discussing it with your brother just yet. 

So when Joshua asks him, "Do you know what's up with her?" when you excuse yourself to the bathroom, Wonwoo stiffens. Why was he asking Wonwoo? … Had he been obvious?

"Dunno. Maybe work's busy or something."

"You think I should go pester her with some ice-cream later tonight?" 

 "Best if you don't do that. She might disown you."

"That's like legally impossible, Wonwoo. Right?" 

When you take an unexpectedly long time in the bathroom, Joshua goes on. "Did something happen between you two?"

Again, Wonwoo tenses up. "...No. Why do you ask?"

"I mean, she seemed fine yesterday when she came over. So I don't think I'm the problem here. Not that I'm accusing you of anything. Just… I know y'all have been bonding recently."

Wonwoo averts his gaze, deeply uncomfortable with this chat. "Um, yeah, I guess."

"Listen, man, I don't mean to take on the older brother tone in this conversation or anything but…" Joshua sighs as he plays with a leftover piece of bread, "You know I'm okay if something does happen with you and her, right? I trust you. And well, she was an adult long before me so I hardly have a say there."

Wonwoo stares at his half-empty glass of water, frowning. "Okay, cool." His answer is curt because he's still caught off-guard by this conversation. He'd wanted to bring up the developments between you himself, in his own way, but this left him a little panicked. Like, he was being rushed to make a move. And his brain ended up shutting down in the process.

…but it really wasn't the best time for his malfunction, given that you'd managed to overhear a good half of that conversation, specifically on the Joshua asking Wonwoo about you and him being indifferent about it. What was he thinking? What were you thinking?

5: you storm out of dinner without an explanation. you pretend you don't hear wonwoo call after you when you do. his texts that night go unanswered. 

How's that for a cliché, huh?

– 

These days, you're trying find the joy in small things. Like waking up to your very first alarm for the morning. Or brewing an especially aromatic coffee at home. 

Like making it to the end of a phone-call with Karina without talking about Wonwoo. 

"Oh, wait, before I forget to ask, how did it go with Wonwoo?"

Almost. 

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, "Not too well. I mean, we kissed. But then, he didn't text me for like three days after. Then I run into him at Joshua's and he acts all… cold. And judging by that one conversation I overheard, he thinks everything that happened between us was a mistake." 

"Okay, okay, hold your horses, friend, I feel like a lot happened there. You kissed? Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?!" Karina sounds genuinely upset and you let out a groan.

"Well, I was trying to stop bringing up Wonwoo every time we catch up. It's annoying and I want to hear more about your life than complain about mine."

"We can both complain about our lives, Y/N. I have all the time in the world. At least till six. Anyway, that's besides the point! You kissed but he ghosted you afterward? And did he actually say he thought it was all a mistake?"

You bite your lip in rumination and then admit, "He didn't actually say that but it was implied. You would agree if you'd heard the same conversation as I!"

As it turns out, Karina doesn't seem to approve of the conclusion you've come to all on your own. But then you point out that it's been over a week and it's been radio silence. So you have every right to feel as hurt as you do. 

"I suppose you do. But still, it wouldn't hurt to approach him first." 

"I would rather die."

"Okay, well, maybe find out how he's doing from Joshua?"

"Will not."

"You're being difficult right now, Y/N. What do you want to do then?"

"I want to move on and not think about Wonwoo. Maybe I should go on a blind date or something."

"We're not in a movie right now, man, plus, I'm pretty sure you were the one who swore your life to finding love organically and whatnot."

"...Gah, I was hoping you'd forgotten about that. Fine, I'll do… something." 

Your words are nothing if not misleading because by something, you don't mean to communicate with Wonwoo like a sane person might. Instead you check up on Mingyu, who you've still been succesfully making small talk at work with, and ask him if he wanted to get dinner. The enthusiasm with which he responds is comforting, a relieving contrast from the tension in your relationship with you-know-who. 

mingyu: omg i woud love to

mingyu: but im unfortuntely busy tonight :((((

mingyu: would you be down for tomorrow? i can make some killer spaghetti if given the opportunity

you: make???? i was thinking of buying the food… but i won't turn that offer down

mingyu: i'm a man of many talents ;) 

You work out the details of the date (neither of you call it that, but it's understood to be one) over the night and you feel a little uneasy as the afternoon of the day comes to a close. Either way, you find a comfortable dress that is flattering against your skin and welcome Mingyu into your place, letting his excitement work its contagious magic. 

If you're following the plot line of this story closely, you'd figure out that the next cliché is this: Wonwoo behind the door across from your home, just now learning about this date of yours with Mingyu. 

He's broken his pledge to himself and asked Joshua about you, after having missed seeing you there for the past week. Joshua had hesitated to respond but is honest anyway, muttering, "I think she has a date over."

"A date?" is Wonwoo instantaneous question, barely-concealed dread underlying in its tone. 

"Yeah, remember that guy from work whose birthday she attended?" Joshua pretends to have forgotten his name but his best friend is quick to chime in, "Mingyu?"

But you'd told him he was just a friend. You'd called him sweet for fuck's sake, and that was the most platonic adjective you could use for a potential love interest. Well, he's been proven wrong by your date tonight.

He looks down at his clasped palms, the same ones that were intertwined with your skin, first the skin of your hands, then your cheek when he'd leaned into kiss you. And if he hadn't spent the last four days regretting every minute he didn't call you up, he sure did want to punch a hole in the fabric of time right about now. 

"You okay there, buddy?" 

Joshua's concern brings Wonwoo back to his body and he looks up, lips pursed and your brother thinks how ridiculous it is that both of you won't just talk it out. But he keeps that judgement to himself, choosing to sit back and watch his best friend pace it out. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Fine. Really fine. I'm okay." He clears his throat, the first tell. "I'm just… um, a little hot. It's hot in here, huh." 

Joshua tames his bemused smile. "Is it? I just turned up the air-con though?"

"Oh, well, it's just me then. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, um, I love this video game."

"Wonwoo, we were in the middle of choosing a card game to play."

"Fuck. Okay, sorry, just give me a minute, I need to go call… my mother."

"No worries, my guy, give Mrs. Jeon my greetings!" 

Across the hall, you're busy watching over Mingyu as he makes his way around your kitchen. You say watching over because really, the man is so clumsy in his own feet, you wonder how he's lived this long. You have to make sure he doesn't cut a limb off every two seconds.

But then your phone buzzes urgently in your pocket and you pull it out, the light smile playing on your face falling when Wonwoo's name pops up on your screen. Now he texts you?

wonwoo: hey! you think we could talk?

You lock your screen almost as soon as you read the message because honestly, you don't have time to dwell over this man in your phone when there's a whole another person cooking you dinner in front of you. That's what ends up leaving a heartbroken Wonwoo, slumped on Joshua's couch as he barely zones into the movie that was playing on the screen. 

Joshua's had it with sitting around when Wonwoo stays unmoving throughout the ending credits– the man hates the credits for crying out loud!-- and instead decides to play cupid. It wasn't ideal, having to set up his sister with his best friend but well, any commoner could see how clearly you were meant to be with each other and he'd rather not have to listen to both sides' misery. 

It's okay timing, you've finished eating dinner with Mingyu, showering his food with compliments the whole time and flustering with your genuine shock at his abilities the whole night. He's helping you clean up with a cheeky grin on his face whenever he leans in a little too close to place a utensil back in its place and you let a smile overtake your face. But you can barely let yourself enjoy the date because if Wonwoo ill-timed text wasn't enough, you're done for when both him and Joshua show up at your door.

"What the fuck?" you ask your brother because you're positive you told him you had a date tonight and then you spot a spaced out Wonwoo next to him, and suddenly put two and two together. 

Wonwoo's eyes never leave your figure, taking in how beautiful the blue dress you were wearing was and how you'd put your hair up in a half-bun, a few strands framing your face prettily. He feels sick, first in a good way and then Mingyu pops up behind you, and now Wonwoo's sick in a bad way. The tall man looks so comfortable next to you, arm brushing against yours as he raises his eyebrows in confusion at the two intruders.

"Sorry, Gyu, these are…" you start to introduce them as they are and then, find a particularly provoking way to put it, "...my brothers."

Wonwoo might actually throw up right here and right now. Gyu? Brothers???

Joshua butts in quickly, "Well, technically, I'm Y/N's older brother, and this is Wonwoo, my friend."

"Ohhh," Mingyu nods in understanding, bowing when he realizes Joshua's your sibling, "Nice to meet you. I'm Mingyu and I work with Y/N."

Before you know it, Joshua works his charms on Mingyu and suddenly, date night for two turns into family night for four. You watch in dismay as your date spends a full hour talking to your brother about one thing and another, actually considering setting them up for a minute. And then, Mingyu glances at his watch and sighs, telling you he needs to take off. 

Joshua, devil incarnate, offers to walk Mingyu out and before you can protest, Mingyu accepts (????) and you watch helplessly as your brother leaves you alone with Wonwoo, narrowly missing the pointed look Joshua sends his best friend on his way out. 

The room now silent with them gone, you stand up with a wary sigh, patting down your dress. Wonwoo's watching and you know because the first words he says that evening are, "You look beautiful tonight."

You hate how the heat creeps up your neck immediately at his beck and call. But you keep from telling him off because even that would mean you caving in. 

But then he follows you to the kitchen, steps in tandem as you pretend to busy yourself with the dishes. The space between you is small though and you end up bumping into the man trying to reach for the fridge. He takes the chance and holds your wrist in his hand. "Hey," he breathes, "You won't even look at me?" 

"No, I've seen enough."

"I'm assuming that includes the text I sent you tonight. And the ones before that?"

God, you hate how good Wonwoo is at frustrating you. You snap, "Don't act like this is on me, Wonwoo. You're the one who pretends like nothing's happened between us." 

"Really? Because a lot's happened between us, Y/N. A lot of things that haven't happened with you and that Mingyu." 

You scoff, brushing his hand off your wrist. "That is so typical of you. Coming around because you're jealous? But you can't stand to tell my brother something happened between us? What is this, a game to you?"

Wonwoo freezes when he considers what you've said. "Did Shua say something to you?"

You cross your arms, "No. I overheard you telling him. I can't believe it though. I really thought we had something good going for us."

You break away from the arm that Wonwoo raises to keep you close and throw yourself onto your couch with an exasperated sniffle. This couch sure has seen a lot, you think wistfully, silently listening as Wonwoo's footsteps came closer. He's sitting next to you then, hesitant arm around you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm really sorry. What you heard was… me being an idiot. I wasn't ready to talk about it with Shua so soon. I meant everything happened so fast. I hadn't exactly planned on falling for my best friend's sister, you know? Or kissing her in her apartment either. But it happened and I'm so glad it did. I was just slow at processing it. I'm sorry."

You groan. "It's not completely your fault, I guess. I just wish you would've talked to me about it. I felt so alone the whole time." 

Suddenly Wonwoo's moving up from next to you and dropping onto his knees so that you're now meeting his eyes. He looks concerned, mouth ajar as he takes your hands in his. "Are you with Mingyu?"

You let out a sound of disbelief, "No! I'm– I just called him over because I was mad at you! I thought you thought it was a mistake so I…"

"I don't. And I never did. I'm just scared. But I shouldn't have made that your problem. I love hanging out with you though and I especially love kissing you. It would be great if you'd let me take you out on a date instead, please?" 

And in that moment with Wonwoo on his knees in front of you, looking at you like you'd just told him he would live forever, you don't think you could do anything but say yes. 

– 

"You think we're a cliché?!" 

You flinch at Wonwoo's shocked question after you'd revealed to him the mental list of clichés that you embodied in your relationship with him. He's nearly seething when he finds out you're not joking. 

"Y/N, you know that's the meanest thing you could ever say to me? Am I really that bad a boyfriend?"

"Woo, my love, will you calm down?" you take one of his hands in yours, "I don't think clichés are as bad as you think they are. They're cliché for a reason! It's because they're meant to be done over and over again. They're tried and true."

"Tried and trite, more like."

"Come on, Woo, you can't act like you don't see it! From the very beginning!" 

He takes a lick at his gelato and you smile when you see him softening a little. You stop walking and stand in his way, barely concerned about the strangers littering the small ice-cream shop when you press a kiss to his lips. "I love you," you mumble against his ice-cold mouth. He shoots you a look that informs you that he knows what you're doing but he shoots back, " I love you, too."

"And love itself is cliché, don't you think?"

Wonwoo closes his eyes as if in physical pain while you uncontrollably laugh. "I knew I shouldn't have fallen for that! You're trying to make me cry in public, aren't you?"

"Aww, it's okay to cry, Woo, baby. Emotions are only natural–"

"I'm calling Shua and asking him to pick you up. I'm leaving."

"Okay, I went too far. Don't make me commute with my brother, I beg you."

– 

"Love, you ready to go?" you hear Wonwoo ask from the living room. You'd banished him to the couch after he'd made it his life mission to get in your way while you tried to get ready for your date. Well, double date actually. Karina was visiting you on break with her boyfriend, Taeyong, and she'd asked if you'd be down to get dinner with them. You had never agreed to dinner plans faster. 

"I am," you call back, just as you smear on lipstick, checking your teeth for any missed food particles for good measure. "Can I come in now?" 

You can see Wonwoo's silhouette at the door, gingerly watching you from the back for confirmation. You melt with a soft smile, beckoning him in, "Yes. Your exile's over."

Wonwoo celebrates with an exaggerated fist pump and you laugh at his antics when he skips over excitedly. "I'm a free man," he murmurs as his hands naturally slide down your arms to find your fingers. He twirls you around, admiring the black dress you broke out for the ocassion. "You look gorgeous," he says with a kiss to your cheeks.

"Are you quoting Taylor Swift at me?" you ask him with a giggle.

"Who's that?" he questions with a poorly feigned frown of confusion. You roll your eyes but open your arms invitingly, "Will you hug me?" 

Hugging had gradually become your favorite part of your skinship with Wonwoo, even more so than kissing, because the way he would shoot you a loving smile before wrapping his arms around and swallowing you into a world of cozy and comfort… yeah, you don't think anything could compare easily. Sometimes, he would hum happily, the vibrations would only soothing you into the embrace further and often your boyfriend had to peel you off him so you could actually get on with your day. 

Today, he lets you cling on longer than usual (he likes to say he's rationing his hugs. You tell him he's just a big tease), probably because he's busy relishing in being overwhelmed by your scent and the little kisses you sprinkle across his exposed neck. When he pulls away, you don't complain like normal, instead revealing the stars in your eyes to him. "You're warm. I love this sweater of yours." 

It was the same navy sweater that had you sweating over Wonwoo back when you were still going back and forth with your feelings for each other. He chuckles in amusement and then steps away without warning, earning a whine from you. But then he tugs the sweater off and your expressions turns playful. 

"Woo," you start warningly, "you know we're meeting them at the restaurant by nine–"

You're stopped mid-sentence when Wonwoo straightens out his garment and commands out, "Raise your arms for me, baby?"

But this is not his bedroom voice, no, no. This is his sappy voice and you already know what he's doing when he pulls the sweater over your head and down your torso. "It looks cute," Wonwoo comments by the time you have the sleeves pulled down properly. 

"You know I hate that word, Woo," you complain but he doesn't let you, pecking your forehead. You sigh in defeat and admire the sweater in the mirror, the fabric sitting surprisingly well against the skirt of your dress. You shrug, "I suppose I can work with this new outfit."

"If not, I can always just take it off for you–"

"Okay, we're leaving before you say another word!" 

Wonwoo laughs as he lets you pull him out after you, out the living room and into the hallway. He stands next to you, hands in his pocket while he waits for you to lock the door and glances at Joshua's door, wondering what his best friend was up to. You don't give a chance to do something about it though because your hands back on his arm in no time – and he swears you touch his arm for reasons beyond appropriate but you'd rather die than admit to it– and walk into the night. 

You meet Karina at a place called Love in the Air and Wonwoo's had listen to you go on, super smug, about how beautifully cliché the name and ambience of the restaurant is. Each dish has a romantic origin, like the shall I compare thee to a summer's day cocktail that Karina and Taeyong share, down to the lipstick-shaped bottles of wine served to your table. And as much as Wonwoo pretends to hate the cliché of love, he still orders the matching Valentine's soup as you just so you can watch his order come out in surprise. 

And as much as Wonwoo pretends he doesn't love the cliché of love, when you lean into his arm at the end of the night, already dozing off when he runs his fingers through your scalp, he can't help but let his heart soar with affection for you. And he thinks he would, after all, be in a cliché if it means to end up in your arms night after night. 

--

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

hiii oh my god why is this fic actually long!!! i wrote in like a day too so i'm just confused... it was 3k a minute and then 29 pages the other?? that's just wonwoo magic or smth i guess... this was requested and i hope the anon who asked for this enjoys it!!! writing it made a lil sick because of how sappy it is but ... it is what it is.

and consider this me admitting that i wouldn't mind having joshua be my brother... and that's just the flavor of parasocial relationship i'm dealing with these days lol

as always: lots of love to all friends and foes !!

[finelinevogue]

Hi i was wondering if you could write an aaron hotchner fic where the reader gets really bad anxiety and Hotch is always there for them? Maybe like established relationship?

“drop the sir”

yes yes yes - my new loml aaron hotchner <3

cw: i guess this is shy!reader | anxiety | reader scratches their hands | she/her pronouns used | no established relationship sorry! i wanted this to be a developmental thing

word count - ~1.5k

The first time that Aaron noticed your anxiety was on your first day at the BAU.

He had remembered you from the internship programme where he had shown you around the place. One afternoon with you and he had known that you deserved a place amongst the team here. It was no surprise that 6 months later - after your internship - that you were hired full-time.

You had walked into the BAU, bag hanging on your shoulder and you had clasped it like it was your lifeline.

Aaron had noticed you all the way across the room from his office. He had been speaking to Reid, but soon paid no attention to what the genius was saying as he watched you nervously look around the room like you were out of place.

He'd gone over to you instantly, wanting to be the first person to reach you.

"Y/N?" He had asked, holding out his hand for you to shake.

It didn't go unnoticed the slight tremble to your hand as you reached out to give his a shake, accompanied with a nervous smile.

"Agent Hotchner, Sir." You nodded.

"You might wanna drop the 'Sir', it'll go straight to his head otherwise." Garcia said in passing as she walked past you both.

You chuckled as you shook your bosses hand. He had a firm grasp. They were firm and calloused, but somehow made you feel like you were in safe company. After he let go you felt disappointed, although you still had the pleasure of looking at him - standing in front of you in a clean suit and his hands in his trouser pockets.

"She's right." Aaron smirked, before resetting to his normal stoic face.

"Am I in the right place?" You asked.

"If you're asking that question then I'm afraid we might've hired the wrong person."

"O-oh, no.. I-"

"I'm joking." He gave a small smile, making you breath out a sigh of relief. You really hadn't wanted to get fired on your first day.

Luckily for you, Aaron had caught onto the fact you were nervous and made sure you knew he was only teasing you. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uneasy. Starting a new job was difficult, he knew that, and nerves were high - he wanted to make sure that you felt as comfortable as possible whilst settling in.

"Didn't realise you made those." Garcia said, walking passed again.

"Garcia, don't you have a job to do." Aaron said, using his usual frowny face unlike the one he'd been using with you.

"Yes, Sir." Garcia said, walking away with a smirk.

"Welcome to the BAU."

💼 . 🎞️ . 💼

It wasn't until someone brought you up in conversation that he thought about your shyness for the second time.

"So what do you think of the newbie?" Morgan asked, making a coffee. Aaron seriously questioned whether Morgan actually did any work around here seeing how often he caught him hanging around the coffee machine.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah."

Aaron looked out of the break room kitchen and across the room to where you were sat at your desk.

It had been a week since you've joined and you'd been really involved with helping with paperwork so far. Your supervisor had been teaching you various bits of information throughout the week, but Aaron was wondering whether they were wasting your capabilities by having you stuck at a desk constantly.

He'd also noticed how quiet you were.

You never initiated conversation at someone else's desk, only ever if they came to you first. You never left your desk for random breaks, you just kept your head down and did your paperwork. He'd seen you in the break room maybe once and that was only to make a drink.

"Shy." Aaron responded. "Quiet."

"Reid said she's done twice as much paperwork as Catherine and she's been here 5 weeks less than Catherine."

"Well, Catherine is a waste of space." Aaron said honestly, causing Morgan to choke a little on his coffee from his bluntness - not that he disagreed.

"Well what do you think?"

Aaron turned from watching you chew on the ends of your pen to face Morgan, who had been watching him the whole time instead of you.

"I think she'll be interesting." Morgan smirked into his coffee.

"For what?"

"No, buddy." Morgan patted Aaron's back. "For who?"

Morgan left the room with Aaron frowning in confusion.

You'd be interesting for who?

💼 . 🎞️ . 💼

Aaron was known to have a quick temper, but no one had seen him quite like this.

"Missing files!" He shouted around the room. "No one is leaving this building until someone can tell me where they are."

Aaron ran a stressed hand over his jaw.

The room was silent except for the humming background noise that the air conditioning was making. People were nervous to look at their boss, much less look up from where they were hiding against themselves.

You in particular were shaking like a leaf in the wind.

You had covered your sweater over your hands to stop the urge to scratch away at your hands - as you often did when your anxiety spiked. Your hands were often scabbed, scarred and quite frankly... ugly from where you'd subconsciously scratched away at your skin. A habit that had stemmed from younger years.

"Who was working on the New Orleans case last?" Aaron asked.

Everyone was silent - no one dared to speak up.

A pit dropped in your stomach. You had been working on those files a couple of weeks ago, maybe even in your first week of the job. Catherine had been helping you organise a bunch of files and you'd spotted a mistake in the paperwork for the New Orleans case. She had said to leave it to one side and that you could come back to it later. You'd assumed the paperwork had been changed, corrected and put back but now you're not so sure.

"Anyone? Someone must have?" Aaron asked again, his patience wearing thin.

"Y/N was, Agent Hotchner." Caroline spoke up from where she was stood near you.

Your heart went then, pounding against your chest. Your mouth went dry and you could feel your body start to heat up.

There was a part of you that wanted to bring Caroline down with you, but you were only new here and you were terrified of stepping on anyone's toes. You hadn't even chatted with anyone in the break room yet in case you started chatting to someone who didn't want to talk to you.

You looked around the room, lots of faces staring back at you.

You felt like you were going to stop breathing. The situation was far too overwhelming.

Worst of all was when you looked at your boss. He sighed as he looked up at the ceiling in stress before he returned his gaze to you.

"Y/N. My office, 5 minutes."

As soon as Aaron walked off and back to his office the rest of the room started up with hushed conversations. You could feel people looking at you, probably for the last time since you were no doubt about to be fired.

It was embarrassing.

You didn't dare sit back down at your desk, afraid you'd get told off for that.

Caroline gave you a pitying look as if to say 'should've-been-more-careful' and in the deepest of your heart you really wanted to call her out on it. It was her mistake too and she'd been training you. It seemed a little unfair to pin this all on you.

Nevertheless you walked your way slowly towards Aaron’s office.

Your hands unwound themselves from your sleeves and your right one started scratching the skin on your left one.

You only notice when you start scratching, not the continuation of it so it quickly dropped out of your mind that you were doing it.

You knocked on Aaron’s door twice.

“Come in.”

You made your way inside, shutting the door behind you and coming to stand in front of his desk.

He was sat in his chair behind his desk, paperwork everywhere. It looked chaotic and disorganised - much like he was probably feeling.

Aaron looked at you with his piercing eyes, no doubt profiling his way through this situation.

You tried to maintain eye contact but you lasted all of three seconds before your eyes turned to your hands - which were now red raw from the scratching.

“I need you to quit that.” He spoke in a neutral tone.

You looked up at him, eyes a little blurry from where the tears wanted to fall but you refused to let them. You nodded in understanding.

“Sure.” You swallowed the hard lump in the back of your throat, “Would you like be gone by the end of the day o-or, like, in ten minutes time, because I can pack my stuff up in –.”

“Y/N.” Aaron tried to cut in.

“—a few minutes. I just need to…”

“Y/N.” Aaron stood up.

He rounded the desk and stood a mere metre in front of you. You braved to look at him and noticed how sad his eyes looked. Those sad brown eyes looked at you so softly, whilst his eyebrows couldn’t decide whether to furrow or stay straight.

That’s when you noticed his hand outreaching towards yours, ever so slowly with an almost hesitation.

“Stop, please.” He said very quietly.

You looked down to where his hands were meeting yours and you understood what he had meant now. He hadn’t meant quit quit, he had meant quit scratching your hands.

“Sorry.” You quickly held your hands down by your sides, refusing to draw more attention to it.

Aaron’s hand retracted, but some part of you wondered what it would have felt like if his skin had touched yours again.

Would it have felt as warm as you remembered? Or would it feel more electric this time?

The room was quiet but you knew Aaron was waiting for you to speak.

“Agent Hotchner, um.. Sir.” You cleared your throat before looking at his eyes, so he could tell you were speaking the truth, “I didn’t lose those files, Sir.”

You stood your ground, not allowing your anxiety to take over this conversation.

Aaron nodded his head.

“I know.” He said with a small smile.

“You do?”

“Dr Reid messaged me somewhat 30 seconds before you came in here, notifying me that the files were found in the paper bin closest to Caroline’s desk. They’d been filled out and filed incorrectly, am I right?” He waited for you to nod before continuing, “And you spotted the mistake? Caroline pulled the files to the side, I assume and made it look like you’d messed up.”

“Yes. Sorry, yes Sir.”

Aaron nodded his head.

“Y/N, why did you let Caroline use you like that?” Aaron asked, crossing his hands over his chest.

You looked down, ashamed with yourself.

“I don’t know, Sir. I guess, maybe it’s because I’m still new here?”

Aaron made his way back around his desk, allowing you to breathe without his shadow enveloping you. It was a weird thing to note that you sort of missed his near presence though.

He made his way to sit back down, leaving you standing with nothing to say or do.

Aaron picked up the phone and dialled in his assistant.

“Hi, yeah. Could you let Caroline know I want to speak to her in my office in ten minutes. Mhm. Yeah. Yeah, no, tell her it’s to do with her redundancy.”

You tried not to gasp or looked shocked when Aaron put down the phone abruptly, but hearing that Caroline was being fired for her mistake was quite the turn of events. She was no doubt going to think you tattled, too, when actually in fact Aaron is just a damn good profiler.

“You’re free to get back to work, Y/N.” He gave you a curt smile.

“T-thank you.”

You gave him the best smile you could, before you turned to walk out of his office.

You could feel his gaze on you but you didn’t turn until he called your name a final time.

“Y/N?”

“Sir?”

“You’re doing a good job here. Keep it up, just drop the Sir - It’s Hotch.”

Both you and Aaron were smiling as you left the room.

💼 . 🎞️ . 💼

[BONUS]

You started the day by finding a gift bag on your desk.

Looking around the room you tried to catch someone’s attention to figure out who was behind this. Was it some cruel prank or was it a real gesture? Ever since Caroline had been fired people had been nicer to you, almost thanking you for initiating her leave.

Before unpacking your bag or even taking off your coat you removed the tissue paper from the bag and unwrapped the small box inside.

You came across a small white box, rectangular in shape with cellophane wrapped around it.

You turned the box over until you noticed the name and contents; ‘Smoothing Hand Cream - Sensitive & Kind to All Skin Types’.

There was only one person who could have bought you this.

You quickly turned to Hotch’s office and saw him standing at his door with a coffee in hand. He nodded at you and gave you a smile with teeth - something that was very rare.

Something that was more meaningful than a tube of hand cream.

[bonbonly]

the way i’ve read every single thing you’ve posted in 30 minutes is crazy to me 😭 im j here to ask for more lando blurbs, but like mean lando because im a whore for him 😔

love you lots!!!

- 🎱 anon

new anon alert!!! mean lando asdfasdf lemme cook something up

bon's thoughts (18+)

def still collegeau!lando norris. oh i just had the most wicked idea possible, so wicked. i've mentioned in a previous collegeau!charles leclerc post that the reader's miss goody two shoes perfectionist, always critiquing him and being mean to him and charles snaps. what if our little reader is the same one bullying lando. lando's younger than her, and she figures that if charles is the one fucking her dumb, she needs to still find someone to have power over.

lando is NOT the person you expected though. you probably were bossing him around to pick up some things for you in the library, acting like you were above him. and then he's grinding his teeth, wondering what the hell he did wrong to end up in this university with you acting like a bitch to him. he might've seen you mouthing off charles one day, and when he was passing by a study room in the library, he sees charles absolutely destroying your asshole, telling you that he fucking hates having to deal with your ass every single day.

lando's smiling at the scene, ideas fueling in his brain and the next time you're asking him to shut the fuck up and just get him that damn paper you ordered at the library, he has you on your knees, forcing his cock in your mouth. this was basically charles once again, the only difference was that charles would respect you when you were being nice to you. he knew to be nice again. lando? lando doesn't have the same sweet boy reputation that charles has. no, lando has NOTHING holding him back.

he's shoving his cock deep in your mouth, laughing at the tears in your eyes, "oh come on, you can take charles's cock but not mine? don't be a bitch, i hate when you're bitch."

"is it too much for you? you should've thought about that before you were bossing me around like you own me or something."

"charles can have you as long as he wants i don't care, he probably only ever speaks to you because your pussy's just that good. trust me, i don't think many people would even bother talking to you with that shitty attitude of yours"

and you're weeping because wow... you didn't even know he could be this mean to you. with charles it was a bit funny because he rarely ever snapped. with lando, oh with lando it burned, it really burned but you couldn't stop the way you were craving for more.

charles eventually hears word about what happened between you and lando, and lowkey i think he might be a bit proud that other people are finally trying to tame your ass. though... a small part of him might get a BIT possessive but thats a thought for another time.

[cqwnii]

warnings : reader has an asthma attack ! referred to in 2nd person, might be ooc + not proofread

genre : x reader, fluff + (angst?), mini story + headcanon format.

P.1 : Ashlyn, Logan, Aiden

☆ 》 ben clark 《 ☆

the group has been running from these phantoms for too long now, you can feel your legs giving up, your chest tightening and your breathing getting shallower, you quickly grab your inhaler, "fuck.." you mumble as you find out your inhaler is empty, your lungs feel like their on fire and your sweating profusely. "guys, my inhaler.." was all you choked out before your body gave up on you, falling to your knees trying to breathe

☆ Ben panicked, adrenaline rushing through his body as he quickly picked you up and carried you right inside the graveyard, you guys were trying to do a quick mission to ashs house (before you had the jeep.) but it didn't go according to plan.

☆ you weakly sat on one of the many seats in the schoolbus, the others checking around the base to see if there was any refills for your inhaler as ben was by your side, making sure you stayed conscious and weren't about to pass out from your asthma attack.

☆ unfortunately that was your last inhaler refill, and you were extremely pale and sweating as if you were in the vegas during the hottest week there.

☆ ben typed out on his phone, making sure to instruct you through your asthma attack to the best of his ability. "concentrate on your breathing y/n." the robotic TTS voice spoke, ben didn't know if you could see properly, so he used to TTS option so you could hear the instructions.

☆ the others were worriedly around you, but making sure to give you breathing space, as they were all concerned about your increase in asthma attacks you've been getting since savannah.

☆ as your asthma attack subsided, ben typed out on his phone to make sure you feel better. "how are you feeling y/n, can you breathe?" you nod as she mumble that you feel better and can actually breathe without struggling.

☆》 Tyler hernandez 《☆

the group has found themselves in a predicament, you can feel your legs giving up, your chest tightening and your breathing getting shallower, you quickly grab your inhaler, "fuck sakes.." you mumble as you realize your inhaler is in your motel room. your lungs feel like their on fire and your sweating profusely. "Wait.. guys I-.." was all you could get out before you fell straight to the ground, the phantom right behind you.

☆ Tyler easily recognized your weak voice, turning around quickly to pull you up before the phantom got to you. it was strange on how this is almost the same thing they found in the sorrel house. tyler pulled you close to him right before ashlyn slammed the phantom with the janitor cart.

☆ tyler brought you into the other motel room. as the other two looked out to see ash, aiden and ben, Tyler patted you down to see if you had your inhaler, but to no avail you didnt. he sat you down and made sure to instruct you on your breathing.

☆ "take deep breaths okay y/n?" Tyler spoke, he carefully held you as the other three came into the motel room, they were a little confused on why you collapsed but were a little more shocked by tyler comforting you.

☆ tyler glared at the others before looking back at you and keeping you awake and making sure your breathing stabilizes sooner than later. he was definitely worried and the others haven't seen him this concerned since they met him, besides taylor of course.

☆ although you didn't have your inhaler, this asthma attack as a mild one and it ended in only a couple minutes with the help of Tylers quick thinking, cause in all honesty you might've forgotten the steps to calm down your attack from the anxiety caused by the phantoms.

☆ "y/n are you okay..?" tyler worriedly spoke as he pulled you close to him, once you confirmed you're alright he hugged you tightly, muttering a few words you couldn't really understand. "just rest okay..? we'll figure out whatever the hells going on." he spoke as you nodded, he let you laid down on his lap as you eventually fell asleep.

☆ 》 Taylor hernandez 《☆

the group has been running from these phantoms for too long now, you can feel your legs giving up, your chest tightening and your breathing getting shallower, you quickly grab your inhaler, "the hell...?" you mumble as you find out the medication canister is gone. your lungs feel like their on fire and your sweating profusely. "tay, I can't breathe..." you weakly spoke right before collapsing to the ground, struggling to catch your breath.

☆ Taylors heart stopped. first she watched her brother fall off a cliff, now she couldn’t bare to see her lover die to the hands of a phantom. She immediately turned around and pulled you out of the way of the phantom.

☆ thankfully ash heard the phantom behind you, and was quick to swing into action. the phantom only managed to give you a little scratch, but thankfully that's all the phantom managed to do.

☆ taylor pulled you inside the gas station, sitting you upright against one of the shelves and making sure you stay conscious. She noticed the empty inhaler mouthpiece and checked her pockets to see if she had a canister refill for you, only to find out she doesn't have one.

☆ " y/n.. just focus on breathing.. Ty-.. ash check if they have any inhaler canisters.." Taylor spoke, she held you close to her and continued to make sure your breathing is getting stabilized. The others were concerned as there was on 7 minutes till they shift back, worried since you never had an asthma attack during a shift, which could harm you.

☆ ashlyn found your dose and quickly passed it to taylor who put it in your inhaler; making sure it worked before pulling it to your lips and assisting you with using it, one dose.. two doses.. and now they need to wait.

☆ after a few minutes your asthma attack subsided and resolved. Taylor held you close and muttered sweet nothings as a few tears ran down her face, a few choked sobs slipping from her lips. "I was so worried about you y/n.." she spoke before planting a kiss on your cheek.

—————————–———————————––——

A/N : yippie guys ^^ i kinda didn't know what to write for this part, but i figured out some ideas. though they might he repetitive and such 😓

[seriouslysnape]

Aftermath of a Full Moon

Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x James Potter x Fem! Reader Tags: Fluff. Remus recovering after a full moon. Word Count: 2.8k "You sure you feel alright?"

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✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮

Remus' head had been pounding all day.

The sting from the frozen ice pack over his eyes was nothing compared to relentless pounding inside of his skull. It had been going on for hours now, creeping its way in as a mild headache early that morning to escalating to a full blown migraine attack as the day went on.

Now it was an hour past dinnertime, and Remus wasn't any better. Remus hadn't eaten a single thing that day, but with how horribly sick to his stomach he felt, he wasn't sure he would've been able to hold anything down.

This wasn't the worst migraine he'd ever experienced, but it was bad enough to knock him out of commission for the day. He had skipped all of his classes today, too exhausted and too miserable to even attempt to attend.

Remus was nauseated beyond belief. His eyes felt like they were borderline burning they were so hot. He was achy in his neck and shoulders -- and not to mention, the throbbing pain in his head hadn't let up in the slightest.

The most recent full moon had been a hard one. Some months were simply better than others, and this hadn't been the best...nor the worst.

Remus hated how inconsistent he felt after each full moon.

Some months he would bounce back in a day or so. Other months, the recovery could last for weeks -- and by the time he felt better, it was time for the full moon again.

This one was rough on him, and he was definitely feeling it.

He had been in bed all day. He was still wearing what he slept in the night before, and he was lying in nearly the same position that he was in when Sirius and James left for the day.

Remus hadn't seen a stitch of daylight that day. Both because there were a series of thunderstorms rolling through for the next couple days and because he had drawn the curtains, leaving himself in the dark for the entirety of the day.

Any kind of light or noise agitated him, and at this point, Remus was willing to do anything to make it stop. Remus had done nothing but lie still and listen to the rain and thunder. He knew it would pass, but that wasn't any kind of consolation when he was going through at in that moment.

Remus didn't have any clue as to what time it was. It felt like it had been days, but he knew that once James and Sirius returned, that would mean it was the end of the day.

You, James, and Sirius left early that morning when they caught on that Remus wasn't feeling well, and they hadn't been back since to give him some quiet and space. You were worried about him because it always broke your heart to see any of them not at their best.

Remus hadn't given any of you much of a proper interaction that day, which all three of you understood given how bad he was feeling. Still, Remus felt a tinge of guilt for being so distant.

As if on cue, he identified two heavy pairs of footsteps outside the door, which he knew meant the arrival of his two best friends.

Remus was glad his eyes were covered when they opened the door because the light beaming in might've pushed him over the edge.

"Hey mate," James spoke as quietly as he entered, knowing that any kind noise just made it worse. "Any better?"

Remus could only shake his head, swallowing hard and continuing to focus on his breathing.

"If you're still feeling sick," Sirius reached into the pocket of his robes to retrieve a small vial of a medium orange colored potion. "I snagged you a dose of this stuff. I think it's a hard swallow but will settle the nausea."

Sirius left it on the top of Remus' trunk that was on the floor at the foot of his bed, and Remus croaked out a thank you.

"Thanks, Pads. I'll get to it in a minute," He shuddered. "I'm scared to move."

Remus had finally found a position to lie in that was semi-tolerable. He hadn't moved an inch in hours, and he was beginning to lose sensation in his limbs.

Sirius and James left the lights off, using their wands to navigate the room.

You were always a bit nervous whenever Remus was having a hard time after a full moon. He was so sensitive in every aspect after a moon, you always worried you'd make it worse.

That's why you were extra quiet when you moved around and didn't say much -- and when you did speak, you were very soft spoken.

Remus hadn't heard you walk in because of this, and he was feeling bad for not paying you any attention for the last couple days...particularly today when he really went down for the count.

"Where's baby girl?" Remus asked, and your head perked up. "She in her dorm tonight?"

"No, she's here." James flashed you his movie star smile.

"Hi, Rem." You said softly, sticking close to Sirius and lingering around him.

"Hey pretty girl," He responded genuinely, but not even a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "I didn't hear you come in."

You didn't say anything else, only listening to Sirius and James talk to Remus.

"We brought your assignments," James said, referring to what he had missed in class that day. "It's not that much. You'll have the weekend to do it."

"Yeah. And [Y/N] brought you some leftovers in case you get hungry." Sirius said.

You indeed were holding a wrapped plate of food from dinner, which you had forgotten about until Sirius mentioned it. You left it next to the potion for Remus to get when he wanted it.

"Thanks, bun. You didn't have to do that for me," He said, pressing the ice pack further down onto his eyes. "I'll get to it when I feel more settled."

"Drink that potion, mate." Sirius said. "Promise it'll work wonders."

"Why don't you take it to him, baby?" James suggested, and you silently obliged.

Remus heard your feet creep to the side of his bed, glass vial in your hand and uncorked. Remus reached his hand out, taking it into his grip when you placed it in his palm.

Remus raised his head just enough to gulp down the bitter potion, setting his head back down as soon as it was in his system. He handed the now empty vial back to you, giving your wrist an appreciative squeeze.

He noticed that you scurried away as soon as he dropped your hand, which only made his guilt of neglecting you worse.

"You're staying the night, yeah?" James asked you, referring to how you still had your school bag and shoes on.

You only nodded, setting your bag down gently next to Sirius' bed and unlacing your shoes to go with it. Sirius and James shared a look, both of them picking up on how you were acting.

And maybe, just maybe, you had a bit of a soft spot for Remus that was different from Sirius and James. Seeing Remus like this was hard on you.

And Remus knew he wasn't the most pleasant to be around after a bad full moon. He was irritable, short-tempered, and just overall not feeling well. And there had been a time or two where Remus had snapped at you or said something that hurt your feelings.

Remus always came around and had a conversation with you, apologizing and explaining that it wasn't your fault.

But all it took was one time for you to be pretty shut down when Remus was coming off a full moon.

They knew you were pretty reserved when Remus was like this, so they didn't think too much of it.

It was going to be a quiet night for everybody, since Remus was going to need the quiet and darkness to keep his head from exploding off of his shoulders.

The next hour or so went by, and the three of you were silent as you traversed through the room, choosing tasks that didn't require any noise or high energy.

James was stationed at his desk, using nothing more than his desk lamp to do his homework and work on some Quidditch things. Sirius was sitting on his bed with a deck of cards, working on some new trick he had learned from somewhere. You were laying on your stomach, flipping through a new Muggle novel that you had picked up from a friend.

Remus hadn't said a word, still lying flat with his eyes covered and head pounding. As the minutes passed, you couldn't stand to see him like this.

Most of the time, the best thing to do was to leave Remus alone and let it pass -- but it pained you to see him so pitiful. You closed your book, shifting to go to get off the bed. Sirius caught your gaze on Remus and knew what you were headed to do.

"Hey, pup." Sirius whispered, grabbing your ankle that was next to him to stop you from approaching him. "Moony's not feeling so good. Let's give him some more time, yeah?"

Remus heard Sirius, of course -- it was so quiet there was no way he couldn't. Remus couldn't deny you like that, not after he'd been so far the last couple of days.

"No, s'alright," Remus sat up very slowly, tossing the useless ice pack that was beginning to turn room temperature at the foot of his bed. "C'mere, bunny."

Your eyes looked to James, who only gave you a nod of approval. Still, you didn't move.

"I don't want to make it worse." You fiddled with your fingers, bending them nervously and hearing them pop.

"Not gonna make it worse, my love." He shifted to make room on his mattress, groaning at the aching in his muscles. "Come sit."

Sirius gave your backside a light tap, pushing you into motion. Your feet shuffled to Remus' bed, your body slowly crawling onto his mattress and snuggling next to him. He wrapped an arm around your waist, his hand resting on the outside of your thigh.

"You could never make it worse," He pressed a kiss to your temple, sighing as he held you close. "It was just a rough moon this time."

"Do you feel any better?" You asked.

Truthfully, he didn't. The potion had settled his nausea, but for the most part he still felt like he had all day. But he could tell you were worried, and he didn't see any sense in worrying you further.

"A little bit," He said. "I think I'll drink a dose of Sleeping Draught tonight and be good as new tomorrow."

Sirius was still shuffling his deck of cards, giving you a reassuring smile.

"He's gonna be just fine," He said. "Promise."

Remus nodded in agreement, chuckling when you snuggled closer to him. In a way, he felt better having you close to him. He always loved having you around, and knowing that you weren't sore with him made him feel better.

"I'm sorry I haven't seen you much this week," He apologized, kissing the crown of your head when you rested your head on his shoulder. "I owe you one, hm?"

"No, it's okay. I knew you weren't feeling well." You said.

"You're so patient," Remus laughed. "I don't know how you put up with us sometimes."

Sirius and James both laughed at that because they agreed...and found it ironic considering Remus was the least difficult of the three.

"Can I sleep with Rem tonight?" You asked James, since it was technically his turn to have you tonight.

Remus' heart did a joyful leap, but he looked at James for a response. It wasn't often that there was a change in the rotation, but there were special occasions where you wanted to switch it up -- and most of the time, it wasn't an issue.

"Up to you, mate. I don't mind." He grinned.

Remus looked at you, smiling at your eyes that were all lit up at getting to spend time with him.

"Sure, doll. How about you get one of your blankets from your dorm so you don't get cold tonight?"

The suggestion hung in the air for only a moment, a gentle reminder of the care that was woven into the fabric of your relationship. You were up on your feet in seconds, giddy with excitement as you rushed out of the room to make the journey to your dorm to return with what you would need for the night.

The three of them laughed at your eagerness, taking that as a sign to start winding down for an early night in.

Remus knew he needed to eat something before bed, since he would feel sluggish in the morning if he didn't. Remus reached over the end of his bed, taking his plate of leftovers into his lap.

"You sure you feel alright?" Sirius asked, reaching into his trunk to toss Remus a plastic utensil.

Remus caught it, and started taking small bites and chewing slowly.

"As good as I'm gonna feel tonight," He sighed. "A night of sleep should set me straight."

Remus hadn't realized how hungry he was, which wasn't surprising considering he hadn't eaten all day and had been preoccupied trying to get some relief.

"Do you need anything else?" James asked.

"Nah. I'm alright," Remus replied. "Just don't tell her I'm still feeling bad."

They understood what he meant. Remus never wanted to cause any trouble, and he definitely didn't want anyone making a fuss over him. If he needed help, he would ask.

Remus did his best on eating, clearing about half of what you had brought him from The Great Hall. It wasn't much, but it was enough to provide him some fuel.

Remus showered too, which was the most he had done all day. He stood under the stream of hot water, hoping it would melt away some of the tension and pounding in his head. It didn't do much other than refresh him a bit, but even that was a nice feeling to have.

Remus re-entered the dorm with a fresh T-shirt and sweats, laughing when he saw you were already snuggled and settled in his bed, curled up with your book to get a few more pages in before it was time to go to bed. Sirius and James were also in their beds, finishing up their tasks for the night.

"You always know how to make yourself at home, huh?" He teased.

You looked up from your book, a small smile on your face.

"I guess it's a habit now." You closed the cover and set it aside.

He moved towards his trunk, opening it and retrieving a vial of Sleeping Draught. He swallowed the dark blue potion with ease, hoping it would kick in quickly.

He moved towards the bed, the exhaustion from the day still evident in his movements. But there was a spark in his eyes now, a spark that hadn't been there before. He climbed into the bed next to you, his body sinking into the familiar comfort of his mattress.

His hair was still damp from the shower, the droplets of water catching the faint light in the room. He looked at you, his eyes reflecting a quiet kind of happiness.

He kissed your cheek when he pulled you close, whispering in your ear as you got settled.

"Did you tell Siri and James goodnight?" He asked, and you nodded.

"She did. With plenty of sympathy kisses for little Jamesie." Sirius laughed, and James launched a pillow at his face.

Sirius shrieked and continued to cackle and poke fun at James who really wasn't hurt in the slightest.

"You're fine, baby. Enjoy being with Moony tonight," James smiled genuinely. "I'll have you tomorrow."

You weren't listening much to their conversation. You were more focused on Remus, watching his eyelashes flutter as he kept his eyes closed to keep his head from pounding worse. He could feel himself growing sleepy, and he hoped that sleep would surely take him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You asked, eyes wide and full of concern.

Remus had been asked that question for what felt like a million times that day -- but he appreciated the care.

"Yeah, my love." He kissed your forehead. "I am."

And Remus would be okay with a little more time. He would wake up the next morning with a clear and pain-free head, with nothing more than some mild fatigue and a desperation to see something other than the walls of the dormitory.

And over the next few days, he would spend his time making it up to you -- spending every spare moment he had with you and giving you as much affection as he could spare.

Remus would be alright. With you, he always would be.

[pinkxpantha]

Mute in the Language of Love

- Lynette x FEM! reader

#: synopsis- Lynette is pining hard for her friend. A not-so breaking news, she's not that experienced in the field of love. But maybe you'll help guide her in this unexplored biome

#: cw- 1.4k words, you/her pronouns, winners love winning, canon complient, non-established relationship, mutual pining, fluff, reader is implied to work with reviewing books or something, reader implied to be older if you squint and look through a magnifying glass. cup'o'tea

Lynette didn't think of herself as the type to fall in love and fall so hard. As though an arrow was shot into her eye, blinding her of her own environment as she fumbled and was tossed by the world around her.

That swirling in her chest was unfamiliar, the rhythmic pulse of her heart felt as though she could feel the texture of her own ribs whenever she was with you. 

You were a fascinating girl, and you filled her mind more often than she'd like to admit it.

She'd be foolish to think she could keep her feelings hidden for so long, but she didn't expect to be found out so quickly.

It might've only been three hours since Lynette herself realized what that bubbling of her chest meant each time she stared at you. And it only took three minutes for Lyney to become absolutely insufferable. 

Any time she was with you and he just so happened to be in proximity, She'd see his teasing looks directed at her, small smirks flashed her way when the corners of her lips twitched upwards at something you said.

"Lynette, when are you going to tell her?" He pestered her at least once every day. 

It wasn't that she didn't want to tell you anything; each day she suffered in longing wondering if she could hold you in her arms and live with your touch always being available to her, too familiar to forget.

Yet she worried about how her words may come across, if it was too direct, how would you react? Do you like grandiose gestures? (as much as she'd prefer not to make her feelings into a public spectacle it was still an option.) Or would even a heartfelt note suffice?

But Lyney, the ever clever and somehow helpfully-unhelpful man he was told her to 'Just ask her'

Safe to say Lyney got a face full of pillow that night. (Look what you've done, reduced her into this immature mess..)

 The next person to recognize her love filled gazes; one that would commonly be interpreted by those passing by as almost soulless despite how drunk her soul was off of her love for you, Was her younger brother, Freminet.

He had seen the two of you walking down a pathway close enough to one of his usual diving areas to see that soft smile on her face, Lynette's gentle gaze on you as though you were the most precious being in the world.

It took three days for Lynette to even muster up the courage to talk about romance with you; and she didn't even bring the topic up.

It didn't take long to find you, as if an internal compass pulled her into your direction everyday. She walked up to the table you were sitting at, a book rested in one of your hands and a cup of tea in the other.

"What is that you're reading [Name]?" She asked, stirring you out of the focused concentration you held when reading. (Was it so bad she found it cute when your brows furrowed after reading a sentence a bit too quickly?)

"A friend recommended me this book from Yae publishing house," you said, slipping a ribbon in between the page you were reading, showing her the title of the book in your hands. "It's a romance but I wouldn't say it's all too romantic." 

She looked at the cover, reading out loud. "'Engaged to my Lover's possessed body..?' It sounds out of place for that genre, it's a bit...?" 

"Scary? Definitely." You finished for her, the curve of your cheeks becoming more pronounced as you smiled with amusement at her confused reaction. "It would be horrifying to wake up and suddenly someone you know well-- isn't them?"

Lynette hummed in response, "When you put it like that, I wonder how the author came up with that plot." To which you rested your head on the knuckle of your fingers.

"It really depends on how it's written. Good chemistry is good chemistry," you said before looking at the chair in front of you. "If you have the time, you can always have some tea and chat with me Lynette." You offered.

Lynette's ear twitched at your offer. She sat down with a 'Thank you' quickly feeling all her surroundings melt away into a fading background noise with you.

You went over to one of the staff, placing her order for her. Something you had already known by heart, Lynette liked the sharp bitterness of her tea, and she also liked a sweet aftertaste. Tea and biscuits was a perfect combo.

Soon you returned back to her, the sun coating you in it's rays as though it was accepting you to be of the same caliber.

In some ways you were the sun to Lynette. "Are romance books something you read often?" She asked as you sat back down in front of her. 

You held your position in thought, "Outside of reviewing books I wouldn't really say so. I definitely do have an appreciation for the romantic but its always better when you can see it on someone's face." You looked off into the streets of fontaine

Your eyes followed that of those walking together. Different pairs of couples with their arms interlaced with one another, "That look in their eyes, treasuring someone so much that they could stand out in any crowd. That's more satisfying than any well-crafted line of text."

Lynette wanted to beg you to look at her, to see how her pupils dilated each time she looked at you as if she wanted to take in your whole essence and keep it imprinted onto your brain.

"It sounds like you speak from expirence."  Lynette commented, a selfish part of her wanted to be the only one that could show you love on such a grand scale. But her love for you was unique in its own way. She would be the one walking with you as you recited poems from across teyvat that you remembered in that moment.

That love was hers.

"I guess you could say so, I have fallen in love before." You said after taking a sip from your own tea making her remember her own neglected tea. You turned back your head to face her.

Lynette hesitated, her mouth slightly parting as she asked, "If it's not too personal, could I hear more?" You nodded, "Of course."

"I love for simple reasons," You said, your hands folded on your lap as you watched Lynette. "They would listen to me as though I was the only sound they could hear." Your gaze dusted her cheeks like a feather, as if she could feel each movement of your pupils.

"And I watched them as if they were the only moving thing in a still world. " You said.

"Do you still love them?" Lynette asked, her words tumbling out almost instantaneously. Maybe if you were a bit closet to her you might've heard the waver of her breath or seen how her tounge rubbed against one of her teeth. 

 "I don't think its possible to ever stop loving." You responded, Lynette's breath caught in her throat, the vertebrae of her spine keeping it trapped as she looked back at you. 

How Lynette wished she were an artist so she could draw that fondness of your face over and over again, and feel her stomach explode and contort with each rendition. 

Lynette's mouth twitched into a small, barely noticable smile "I guess that's what makes absence hurt so much." She said.

You nodded, "Love really is a beautiful thing." You responded. 

The two of you sat in each other's company for a few more minutes, drinking into each other's presence in a comforting silence as you sipped your tea.

It was only a few minutes afterwards when Lynette placed her cup down with a clink, the empty teacup placed back on its holder.

"Thank you for staying with me for a while." You said, not finding something of substance to make her stay and talk with you some more, but also not wanting her to leave.

She stood up and gave a slight bow to you, "Of course. I enjoy your company." Those soft monotone words padded your ears in a comfort she probably didn't even mean to give.

"I'll see you soon?" You said to her.

"Yes, soon." She responded.

You watched as she walked off into the distance, her figure fading with each step. You let out a soft sigh, glad you could talk about love with her, even just for a moment. In three seconds you already missed her so.

I literally spedran this, it's 3:29 am and I have not proofread it, I will come back to fix mistakes tho 😁 trust ( ≧ꇴ≦)

its actually 1477 words but who's counting [proud]

[lemoncrushh]

Faithfully

Summary: Harry shares the story of how you two met and fell in love.

Warnings: Syrupy sweet fluff

Word Count: 1334 words

A/N: This is written from Harry's POV. The woman originally had a name, but I've changed it to Y/N. Obviously inspired by the Journey song, written in 2017. This is interesting to read again since he mentions tours and albums that hadn't happened yet.

I'd met her just after the first leg of my first solo tour. Even then, I don't think she knew how into her I was, or perhaps she'd played it so cool that I didn't think she was that into me. She wasn't a fan, at least not in the sense that she was there to meet me. She wasn't a celebrity either, though I found out later that she'd won a beauty contest in her hometown at the age of seventeen, and she was later on a local news program in a segment about college protests on campus. I'd found her small-town fame endearing, among other things, which ultimately lead to my falling for her. She was a normal girl. Just a sweet, stubborn-as-all-hell, normal girl.

She was sat in a corner booth at the cafe when I walked in. She hadn't seen me, nor had I seen her. I'd just gotten my drink and was prepared to take a seat when a young girl squealed and asked me for a photo. Then another. And another. I was used to it, nothing new. I think one of them's mum even got in on a picture. But it wasn't until I was on the fourth or fifth selfie that I saw her. I caught her grinning above the fan's cell phone as she aimed it and snapped. As the next fan stood next to me, the mystery girl started to giggle, quickly lowering her face behind her arm. I raised my brows for a second, wondering what was so funny. She blushed when she looked at me again, catching me eyeing her. She was really cute.

I continued my fan obligation until every girl had left except the one in the corner booth. Grabbing my tea, which was now cold but I didn't care, I made my way to her table. She fiddled with her own cup, pretending that it was warming her hands underneath her sweater paws. I asked her if I could join her. She gave a half smile and a shrug, which I also thought was cute. Sliding into the seat across from hers, I introduced myself. She told me her name was Y/N.

We talked for three hours in that corner booth, Y/N and me. I would have gladly talked longer if she hadn't said she had to get home. I got her number, which she gave to me reluctantly before quietly slipping out of the cafe. I never told her that as she passed my window, I saw her smile at the ground and bite her lip.

I called Y/N the next day. She seemed surprised. She confessed that she'd known who I was, but didn't know that much about me. I'd told her that was perfect because she could get to know me, as I was excited to get to know her.

Three months. We had three months to get to know each other before the second leg of my tour, the arena portion of the tour. And in actuality, it was less time than that because I had a lot of work to do to prepare, more promo, more obligations. And, if I'm being honest, I barely count the first month. No matter how often I called or texted her, no matter how much I tried to show her I was interested, because truthfully I was very interested, she remained apprehensive, skeptical, and even a little cold. I was just about to give up and call it a day when she confessed that she'd listened to all of my music. A little lightbulb went off above my head, and my hands went clammy. I asked her to elaborate. When she admitted she liked it, I felt a weight lifted off my chest. But when she said my solo album was the best thing she'd heard, maybe ever (her words), I wanted to kiss her right there through the phone.

Any free time I had between then and the tour was spent with Y/N. I couldn't get enough of her, and if you had asked me then if I was in love, I might've said yes. But neither of us were ready to say it to each other.

Once the tour recommenced, things happened, the inevitable that happens in any long distance relationship. But because we hadn't really yet established what we even were, let alone call it a relationship, I suppose it hurt a little less. At least at first.

I didn't call her. I didn't call her for six whole weeks because I'm an asshole. I did text her a few times, just as sort of a check-in. How are you? Fine, you? Fine. Tired. How is Germany? Cold. Lots of rain. That sort of thing. It wasn't until I was on my way to Australia that I manned up and gave her phone an actual ring. I dunno what exactly happened, and I told her as much. I apologized profusely. Y/N said I was probably just feeling lonely being so far away, and maybe she was right. But Jesus, I missed her. And I would have given anything to be with her in that moment.

I called her every day after that. Every fucking day. I probably learned more about her then than I'd learned in the first three months. I had ten days between my last show in Japan and my South America shows, so I returned home to London to refresh, re-energize. I asked Y/N to fly out and see me. She told me she couldn't afford it right then. I told her I'd pay. She insisted she couldn't take off work. I asked her how she felt about me.

Two weeks later I flew Y/N out to Dallas to see me. That short time together was all I needed to confirm my feelings for her. She might tell you that the end of the tour, that second night in L.A. was when we fell in love. But I think it was in Dallas. At least on my part. And if I'm being honest with myself, I had been falling all along.

It hasn't been easy for Y/N and me. Two years, another album, a film and tour later, we got married. But immediately I was back in the studio again to record album number three. Then another tour. We decided to start trying for kids. I made another movie, but Y/N put her foot down after that. She got pregnant, I was overjoyed and wanted to stay home with her as much as I could. And I could. For a while. Then my job called again.

As I look back on this now, I dunno how Y/N did it. She's a fucking saint is what she is. I'm getting choked up just thinking about it. I love her. So much.

Being on the road is hard. On anybody. Add a relationship, a family especially into the mix, and it's a million times harder. There were nights I would wake up and wonder where I was. I'd get this sick, empty feeling in my gut and I'd have to call her, even if it was three a.m. at home. I feel so lucky to have someone that has stood by me.

I'm pretty sure Y/N knows how I feel, but just in case, I wanna say that she's the best thing that's ever happened to me. More than the music. More than the films. Even more than the fans. Fans can be true blue, but they can also be fickle. I know I lost some just by getting married. But I don't regret that one bit. I wanted the world to know how happy I was and to share in my joy. Because she is my joy. No matter where I am, I know I can count on her, and she can count on me right back. We're forever, I know this in my heart. She's mine and I'm hers...faithfully.

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MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[the-kr8tor]

Bad Idea, Right?

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: A visit from your ex makes you question the break up.

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (she is mentioned wearing heels though), ex! Hobie, CW injury, TW blood, Hurt/comfort.

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Hobie Masterlist

Your ankle hurts like you've run a marathon. The new heels you've bought doesn't help one bit, you should've chosen a more comfortable pair if you only knew your date was about to ditch you in the middle of dinner. Now your wallet is lighter and you didn't even get a proper date in. You could've taken a taxi home but just thinking about the surge prices has you risking the dimly lit streets.

You sigh as you finally see your front door, hobbling to it, you unlock it quickly so you could change into your PJ's, watch that new episode and have your feet up with a hot compress right over your aching feet.

The smell of iron and the familiar leather smacks you right over your face. You haven't smelt that in months, turning the corner, you already know who's waiting for you. But you wouldn't have foreseen the state that he's in.

“Holy shit, Hobie!” You run to him, blisters be damned.

Kneeling next to him, you assess the damages like you always used to. He's currently sitting up, his back slouched. His face has seen better days but there's still that charm you've always loved behind his eyes. The suit looks worse, marred by bloodied slashes and tattered cloth.

“‘m okay,” he holds your elbow, the feeling so familiar it brings you back to five months ago, a time before you broke up, before *he broke it off, inevitably shattering your heart into tiny pieces.

“Just a scratch, love.” Hobie looks softly at you, his eye bruised and battered as he clutches at his bleeding side.

“You're bleeding all over my new couch.” Sure enough, your once white couch has specks of blood on it. “What are you doing here? You should go to a hospital in the state you're in!”

He heaves a shaky breath. “I didn't know where else to go.” Squeezing your elbow, his head hit the cushion in a quiet thump.

You hold his cheek gently. This is a bad idea, right? But you know if you don't treat him his wounds would fester, you know him enough to know that he really won't go to a hospital no matter how much you beg.

“Okay, okay, just–” you fight the tears in your eyes. There might not be a relationship between you two anymore but you can't bear seeing him in pain. “I'll get the kit.” Standing up, before you could rummage for the first aid, Hobie catches your hand in his. Thumb rubbing softly over your palm, you swear you felt electricity pass through you.

“Y/N, I–”

“I'll get the first aid.” You cut him off without looking at his face, if you did you might've collapsed to your knees in front of him, kissing him like you used to. Sliding your hands off him, you walk off without looking behind.

Going over to the piles and piles of boxes in the corner, you open one that's labeled ‘medical stuff’ immediately, your eyes zero in on the things you needed.

“You haven't unpacked?” Hobie croaks out, “it's been six months–”

“Five, just five actually.” Turning around, your arms are full of bandages, painkillers and antiseptic and anything else you might need, your tone is full of passive aggressiveness.

“Felt like six to me” he coughs out.

You walk briskly to him, you've got to get your priorities straight rather than biting back at him.

“Stop talking, you're making it worse.”

“My injuries or our relationship?”

You pause, kneeling down to set the materials on the floor as gentle as you can with your arms full. “Both, now shut it, Hobart.”

“‘m sorry”

“Hobie, please.” You look at him, your eyes glistening in the light. “Please just– let me work, okay?”

“Okay” he nods, observing you prepare the materials just like you always do it. But this time you're not completely calm and not making jokes to keep him smiling and awake. You're silent, fingers shaking while you sanitize your hands.

The sound of the clock in the living room becomes annoying as the silence goes on. Hobie's suit now lay discarded on the floor leaving him in only his boxers. He grimaces with every stitch you do in his abdomen. Your touch keeps him awake though, sending little sparks as you gently put the needle in his skin, your gloves bloodied, face fully concentrating, only showing emotion with a frown when he sucks his teeth in when the pain flares up again.

Hobie doesn't want you to hurry up though, because once you're done, he'd have to leave and he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to leave you again since he made the biggest mistake of his life five months ago because of a stupid argument. He admits it to himself every morning he wakes up without you beside him, your side of the bed cold, your things not where they usually are. He can't help but look beside him, wishing the space isn't empty anymore.

He was wrong and he wants you back. He'd be lying if said he was doing well these past five months, he'd be lying too if he said he wasn't thinking of you when he was being pummeled to the ground.

You hate seeing him like this, hell it was the main reason why the fateful fight happened. With a shuddered breath from Hobie, you look up at him to check, maybe you shouldn't have when he looks at you like the last five months didn't happen. Like the last three years together still continued on to this day.

“You look nice.” He flicks his eyes down to your new shoes. “Fancy. Did you go on a date?” He mentally readies himself for your reply.

“I did.” Thinking of getting him back, you could say ‘yeah, I did and it went so well! We're getting married tomorrow by the way!’ or ‘yeah and he's right outside right now waiting for me’ but you don't, you don't have the heart to hurt him with your words, even if he did do that to you.

“Didn't go well” you continue without looking at him, concentrating on closing his wound. “He left me during dinner.”

“That fuckin’ wanker.” He clicks his tongue, his words full of venom for the man. “You deserve better, love”

You look at him directly in the eyes. “Yeah I do.”

His face drops, anger dissipating. “Y/N–”

“What are you really doing here, Hobie? You have friends that could help you better than I could and you still went to me.” Your bottom lip wobbles but you bravely continue on. “You said it yourself, you don't want to do anything with me” your voice wavers.

“I didn't mean it.”

“Then why did you say it? I only told you to be more careful because I hate coming home to you beaten and bloody. I would never tell you to stop being spiderman, I know the city needs you more than I do, but my god, I needed you too.”

“‘m so fucking sorry.” He reaches out to hold your cheek but retracts it back apprehensively.

“I came home tired and angry and I let it all out on you.”

You want to hold him, you do but it's a bad idea, you're trying to move on, you're currently failing at it based on the number of dates you've rejected and all the boxes of things you haven't even tried to unpack because of that damned bit of hope. You'd do anything to see the dimples of his cheeks again. You know it's been hard being spiderman for him, juggling his personal life with being a vigilante; and you hate how you added in another problem for him, but you know the space was needed even though it wasn't wanted. One thing is for certain though, you still love him.

Closing his wound, you pack it in with bandages, the awkward silence is deafening. The package of medical tape crinkles as he watches you with a frown and broken heart.

“You called me selfish” you break the silence, your hands staying over his wound gently, the bandages acting as a wall between you and his skin.

“I did, ‘m sorry” he thinks twice before holding your hand over his bandages. His fingers intertwining with yours slowly.

Unsurprisingly, you let him. Your eyes flicking over to his shining one, his frown makes you crave his smile.

“But…” You continue with hitched breath, “you said you love me in the same breath.”

“I meant it, I still love you.” Hobie takes your hand, lifting it to kiss your knuckles. You feel his dry broken lips, you want to hurt the one who did this to him.

Coming closer to him, you lay your forehead atop his carefully so as to not exacerbate his injuries. “I still have no idea how you made that whole sentence hurtful but full of love.”

“I'm a lyrical genius, love” he chuckles lowly, raising up to chase your lips.

“Not much of a genius that day though.” You lean away but his hand on the back of your head prevents you from getting away. For the first time in months, you smile.

“I'm a blubbering idiot then.” Hobie slides his hand down to your shoulders, just holding you like it's supposed to be. He has every curve of you memorized, roaming his hand, kneading to ease your muscles.

“That you are, Hobie Brown, my lovable idiot.” You close the distance, kissing him like you've never kissed him before.

Maybe this isn't such a bad idea after all.

[jelzorz]

For the ficlet requests, Rayllum, pre-6x07 opening, what they might've been talking or thinking about before the episode opens with the kiss

190.

They don't spend a lot of time talking.

Admittedly, there isn't much to say: it's all kind of there and laid bare the moment Callum kisses her again and afterwards, words don't feel like enough. They kiss, and kiss some more, soft lips and gentle hands and trembling breaths on goosepimpled skin. The hours pass, as slippery and smooth as star-silk, and then the dawn breaks and Rayla wakes with the softest light in her eyes and her head upon Callum's chest.

"Hi," he whispers.

Rayla giggles. "Hi," she murmurs. "Not a dream then."

"If it is, I'm never waking up," chuckles Callum, pressing a kiss to the space between her horns. "Look." He points a finger to the stained glass, coloured light spilling across the desk by the window.

"It's beautiful," says Rayla.

"Yeah." Callum smiles. "I've never seen the sunrise from so high. Wanna go watch it?"

"Mm. Later." Rayla tilts hers her head up to face him and presses a kiss against the corner of his mouth. "Kind of want to stay here a bit longer. Is that okay?"

"More than okay," he says, his fingers tracing nonsense patterns over her skin. She shivers pleasantly at the sensation and snuggles further into his warmth. "I really missed you," he murmurs. "All of you."

"I missed you too," whispers Rayla. "That whole time I was away, and even when I came back... All I ever thought about was you."

"There wasn't... anybody else?"

She shakes her head. "How could there have been? I saw you in everything, and it was bad enough that I..." She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a breath.

"Oh, no, I—" Callum grimaces awkwardly then, and when Rayla glances up at him, his cheeks are red and his eyes are cast bashfully towards the floor. "I just... last night was—I've never done... any of that before."

"Oh."

"Yeah.".

There's a pause. Then Callum laughs, and because he laughs, Rayla laughs, the tension broken, all the guilt and regret and complexity gone again like it was never there at all. They haven't really spoken about all of that either, but it doesn't matter. Not really. What matters is that they are here and together, and there's nothing about it that really needs to be said. Rayla shifts and kisses him deeply anyway, another apology, another assurance, another promise on her lips.

"It was my first time too," she admits shyly.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Another pause. Another breath. Then they're both giggling again, giddy as lovers should be, at peace in each other's arms. Rayla sighs, relishing his warmth, his touch, his heartbeat beneath her cheek, and smiles. "Was it what you wanted?"

Callum grins into her hair. "All I ever wanted was you. Even if we hadn't... you know. It wouldn't have mattered. I'm just glad we're here. Together."

"Yeah." Rayla breathes in, the air crisp and clean and full in her lungs, the ache between them gone and replaced with warmth. "I love you," she tells him, because what else is there to say? It's so simple and so true, even if the words don't feel big enough to encompass it.

Callum's chest rises. His heart misses a beat. He lets out a breath. "I love you too," he says, and Rayla knows that it's the same for him, the words too small for the strength they carry.

The sun rises higher. The quiet settles over them once more. There are no more words.

There don't have to be.

[unconventional-user]

Statuesque

I'm crawling out the sewers to re-introduce myself. Plus new blog yay!

König and Reader are relatively almost the same height SO I DONT WANNA HEAR NO CANON THAT READER IS 5 FOOT SOMETHING NO THEYRE LIKE 6'5 HELL PROBABLY EVEN TALLER-

Anyways, as you can tell I know nothing about the military nor COD, only what I've read and seen. Shoot me. Reader is intended to be gn overall but correct me in case.

pairing: könig x tall!reader 

warning(s): uhhhh idk, kinda sucks? (I tried)

word count: 2.7k

* This work was created by @unconventional-user, no re-post(s), you may, however, re-blog. Thank you. *

'How tall are you?'

'Are you a basketball player?'

'Do you wear heels?'

'How's the weather up there?'

These questions were a constant occurrence whenever leave took place. It was a reminder how annoying and entitled people were at times.

Luckily, deployment had come quickly most times, so you wouldn't have to deal with them often.

It's not like there was anything to head back to when 'off duty' anyway.

Parents were several countries overseas as well as other family, friends, and folk. So being called back often wasn't a rare occurrence nor was it annoying...

After joining the Air Force, it was expected of your squadron to work alongside certain groups. You happened to be the lucky few that helped aid the Special Air Services pretty often. It was mainly with transports as well as to help fly troops on missions.

It was nice. Some of the best times honestly.

Britain was a really cool place too.

But the constant travelling back and fourth, US to UK kind of left this uncertainty of which place was your 'true' home.

Almost like an identity crisis sort of.

So after some thinking and request of separation, you moved countries alongside joining the British Army.

Many more years later you're a part of the Special Air Services.

You could say the years in the Air Force might've helped a bit by leaving such positive feedback to them when SAS asked about their new soldier.

Judging from their background, they described as if the "golden child" for helicopter pilots was amongst them:

A once in a lifetime.

A relic of some sorts.

A phenomen.

According to them, you knew how to maneuver the damn chopper 'as if you built it yourself'.

Thus becoming a well recognized name amongst the special forces more specifically.

You'd like to thank the impeccable flying skills for landing you on such a radar.

Still, most of your work went unnoticed the first couple of years in SAS til' they eventually caught someone's eye later on:

"That's some amazing skills there—hello, we haven't met. My name is Kate."

The communication analyst would keep in touch with you after that. She claimed a specific task force officer asked for your wings.

"You know how to maneuver a helicopter better than anyone I've seen in a while. And I'm not the only one who's seen you in action."

Years pass after that, you're still on par with transporting soldiers and the Task Force 141, means you must be doing something right…right?

Shaking off the commotion of thoughts, you drove till the view of a familiar, bordered gateway appeared.

Upon entry, it was time to head over to your station.

-

Some inspections and loadings later, a shout was heard from afar. Turning towards the culprit, it was none other than Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish.

"Long time no see, aye bonnie?"

Leaning against the rails of the helicopter, he gave a smile. In return you gave one back as you finished clearing the aircraft as: PASS.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," you chuckled, "I believe I saw you yesterday."

Ignoring the matter-of-fact, he continued on, "Call me Soap. Remember, yer one of us."

Smiling awkwardly, you pretend to re-inspect one of the throttles once again.

To be 'considered' a part of task 141 was…a weird feat or way to put it overall. You were in their squadron as their pilot, but you weren't necessarily with them. You weren't a part of their briefings or any of that.

You were separate from them.

The only one who really 'considered' you as part was Sergeant MacTavish.

Not to say the others were assholes or something. Lieutenant Ghost often would brief a 'good job' or 'nice maneuvering' to you once in a while.

Sergeant Garrick and Captain Price also acknowledged you from time to time, always greeting when deemed necessary.

To put it into simple words…they like your flying skills. You're like a designated pilot for them sort of.

'Way to make it sound like you're just a chauffeur-'

Shaking the thoughts aside once more, you focused on what Johnny said.

"Come again, Sergeant?"

The man chuckled, shaking his head but repeated himself once more. He always found you cute yet attractive. A true bonnie. These small actions never ceased to add to his attraction towards you.

Plus, he liked them tall. He could only imagine you in heels now…

"Wait…so you guys are gonna team up with a whole 'nother group for the mission?" You asked.

Great. Now he had to shake his thoughts aside. Clearing his throat, Johnny nodded.

"Price got told he needed backup for this one. Apparently it's too risky to go alone."

"Sounds rough."

"Aye, Ghost ain't too fond of the idea either."

Didn't look like he was too happy about the situation as well.

Nodding, you understood the lieutenant's 'worry' about being aided by a private contractor unit. Another responsibility and potential liability overall.

Trying to look on the bright side of things, at least they'll be more careful.

"Well…better safe than sorry, right? Plus you guys won't be so bored on the ride there!" You internally cringed at your feeble attempt to cheer the man up.

Hey, at least it made him laugh though.

"Ye ready to deal wit' another crew of dafties 'en, bonnie?"

Laughing, you closed the door to the aircraft.

"I'll see you in a bit, las."

-

The briefing ends; said Austrian begins heading towards the designated lockers.

Kortac had been called back by the SAS, unsurprisingly. They’d worked alongside the particular military service before (more than a few times).

The report claimed a certain special ops unit would need some assistance on an important mission. The team was ordered to help aid as a “battering ram” of sorts, both pre and post mission.

Of course they knew just who to send alongside for additional aid to the team.

König rolled his eyes, slamming the locker in frustration. He really didn’t want to be here at all. In his eyes, he was assisting a potential enemy. The SAS wasn’t necessarily a foe to KorTac, but it’s not like they were allies either.

So case in point (to König), he was being forced to help the potential enemy.

There were other soldiers sent alongside König. One of them looked over at him, an eyebrow raised, “Alles gut?”

König looked over at the soldier and said nothing, hood completely concealing his annoyed face. He’d rather be anywhere else than here if he’s being honest.

Heading towards the helipad, where he’d meet the rest of his ‘team’ mates, König tripled checked his tactical gear on him before stepping onto the designated helicopter.

His eyes narrowed onto a familiar face—or rather a mask—he had met before. Ghost simply responded back to König’s hostile stare vice versa. Neither said anything, but sat on opposite sides of one another.

No mind was paid to the rest that got onto the helicopter, except for Sergeant MacTavish, who made his entrance known with a hearty laugh followed by an annoyed looking Sergeant Garrick.

After the rest got settled in, Captain Price stood center and went over some key details again, mainly about KorTac’s assistance on the mission. König felt someone’s eyes on him as a chill ran along his neck. He turned his head and saw the same soldier from earlier at the lockers move to sit next to him. Said soldier looked away nervously to avoid the blue eyes.

Komisch. König narrowed his eyes in confusion, but remained silent overall. He felt the soldier lean in, “Is this your first time working with them?” They then gestured their head towards Task force 141. König didn’t acknowledge them and remained quiet. Looking away, he ignored the huff of the—now annoyed— soldier.

“Ist mir doch...”

König ignored the subliminal guilt he felt by acting like he didn’t hear the soldier’s mutterings. Trying to distract himself, he re-checked his tactical gear.

Knife is attached to his side. His tourniquet was in place, perfectly positioned if needed. He had 2 extra stocks on his left thigh—

Thoughts were interrupted as 2 pairs of feet stepped onto the helicopter and the doors were closed. König looked up and he swore he heard himself swallow back a gulp. Thank whatever is up there that he had his hood concealing his face. König could feel his face becoming warm.

Completely ignoring the other pilot officer greeting the team, his eyes focused on you.

Who were you?

You seemed to be standing at almost—if not the same—height as König,

He absolutely loved that.

Eyes fell onto your hands, noticing the lack of a band surrounding it, which he also seemed to love.

He was unsure if he had a visceral reaction to your presence but it felt like when people saw color for the first time. He felt the need to hide his flustered face (even though the hood already does that for him).

Du siehst bezaubernd aus.

He thought, eyes not leaving your form.

As you and the other pilot head towards the cockpit, he couldn't help but ponder.

Was that what many consider ‘love at first sight'? Him? In love?

The idea seemed almost laughable, mainly because he didn't think he could ever imagine him even having the courage to even attempt to pursue someone. Let alone have someone finding him worth being with.

König (sadly) broke his stare by looking at the soldier who jabbed his shoulder. Bothered, he turned towards them with narrowed eyes.

Grinning, the soldier commented, "As they say in America; statuesque."

-

Stepping towards the helicopter, you could feel your mind calm down. You knew exactly what to do. Tis the moment. You're in the zone.

Ew. That’s literally so cheesy.

You thought as you covered your hand to hide the growing smile.

Your co-pilot turned over at you, “Everything ok?” he asked, confused.

Putting a hand down, you nodded, “Yep. Just…thinking of something.”

He gave you an odd look but didn't perpetuate any further, simply muttering under his breath, “...How’d I get stuck with the tall weirdo?”

You pretend not to hear that, letting out a sigh and stepping onto the helicopter.

The co-pilot flashed everyone a tight-lipped smile as eyes fell onto him first, “Proud to be working with everyone here.” But eyes quickly fell onto the person looming over him.

That person being you.

With a flashed smile and wave, you greeted them, “I’m going to be your eyes in the skies today.”

The assisting team nodded a ‘Yes Officer’ your way. Nodding to the group, you observed them until one of them caught your eye.

The moment your eyes landed on the gentleman in the hood suddenly time had stopped, not noticing when he looked back either. His eyes widened whilst looking like he had choked on the air or something.

He looked a little bit taller than you—only a little—which almost never happens.

He was also oddly cute (considering he had a full on sack over his head).

Suddenly self conscious about appearance, you straighten up and try to hide the blush apparent on your face. If it's obvious, nobody dares say anything.

It probably didn't help that he was staring back at you as well. Interlocked, neither breaking eye-contact till the soldier next to him nudged his shoulder.

Luckily, you were able to gather yourself and head into the cockpit. It seemed like the others had disappeared, leaving only you and him. But you surged on, unaware of eyes following your direction.

Finally out of sight, you were able to find your footing and headed towards the left.

Your co-pilot sat to your right.

Alright, it’s go time.

Snorting, you muttered, “...still so cheesy.”

“Huh?” the co-pilot turned.

“Nothing!”

-

It was finally over. The mission was done. You could feel the relief washing over as you were able to land on the helipad again.

No casualties (thankfully), except for 2 soldiers who were grazed by bullets. One of them being Ghost, who had apparently saved one of the other soldiers who were shot.

You still remembered upon landing to reach them on the field, Ghost was angrily dragging the other wounded soldier by the vest, holding his shoulder in the process.

One soldier yanked out a med kit as another snatched them away from the lieutenant.

The shouting could be heard from the cockpit as you flew away. You and your co-pilot ignored it and continued to flee the warzone.

As you were able to land, you slowly started feeling at ease.

Even though you’ve been flying for years, the adrenaline and anxiety was still the same every time.

The difficulty was always trying to shake the feeling of nerves off. A good cigarette always seems to ease them away. Speaking of which…

You reached into your lower back pocket; you cursed when you didn’t feel any familiar shaped boxed. Must’ve left the pack in your locker. Luckily, it wasn’t too far.

Headed towards said lockers, someone had walked next to you. Upon looking, no words were exchanged as you were side-to-side with the extremely tall soldier.

You expected him to say something. He didn’t. Simply continue to walk.

You decided to do so instead.

“Hello.”

The hooded man faced you this time with flat eyes. You stopped walking, so did he. Gulping down the nervousness, you took a good look at him.

He was taller than you, even if it was by a couple inches only. He was still taller than you.

“Sorry for bothering but…” chewing on your lip (which he definitely looked at), you confessed, “...I've never seen someone as tall—hell—taller than me. So I just wanted to introduce myself.”

You tell him your name, trying not to seem so upfront about it. He continues to look on for a while, in which you think maybe he didn’t want to talk to you at all.

“König.” is all he (manages to) says and continues to walk (although appearing dull looking towards you, he was internally sweating bullets as well).

“...Well König…I was wondering…if you would like to…maybe hangout, tonight. I'm actually going out to head for some drinks tonight and I thought…” you chuckled nervously while trying not to mumble, he however, cut you off.

“What?” König asked in what seemed an annoyed tone.

Not to him though, he just seemed weary about strangers, plus he didn't really know how to act around someone he seemed to have a crush on. He didn't even think he sounded rude about it.

Which was the problem.

You quickly explained to him, “Well…we don't have to. I swear I just wanted to offer maybe I thought you'd be interested-”

He cut you off again, “Why would I want to spend my time with you?” 

Oh god König. If only he knew just how bad he was fucking this up.

Swallowing, you looked away from said man, “Um…nevermind I didn't mean to disturb you, please, forget I ever bothered you haha…” you slowly drifted off, trying to hide the wobble in your lip.

Forcing a smile you began to walk away from him.

König’s eyes widened as you began to walk away.

No. No. No. Nein. Nein-

Was tust du?! He thought as he saw your lips wobble.

Do something before they leave!

“Wait!” He blurted out. This time he didn't seem to care that the surrounding soldiers looked at him.

But when you turned around however, he felt his stomach flutter.

Oh shit now what-

He didn’t know what to say now. So he simply just walked up, grabbed both of your shoulders and explained how he’d love to go out for drinks.

Motivated, you just looked up at him, the genuine smile creeping back onto your face, “Really?”

König felt himself freeze, but nodded regardless:

“Ja.”

“Okay, great…Amazing!” Giving him the details, you headed towards the lockers, the–now–lovestruck smile on your face. König waved until he realized what he just did.

He agreed to go out for drinks. With you.

With you. 

What was his issue then? Nothing was wrong with you.

But you wanna go out with him. Him.…now that's a different story.

He was freaking out–not that anyone could tell–König stood still in one spot, till the hand on his shoulder broke him out of it. It was the previous soldier from before:

“Gut?” they tried asking König again, who narrowed his eyes back at them. 

“Ja.”

Can you tell this was rushed and kinda a little self indulgent? Yeah, now I feel kinda cringe. Also didn't mean to cut it off so suddenly, maybe to be continued? Maybe.

[apomaro-mellow]

idk how detailed of a prompt ur looking for but: Eddie thinks Steve's chest hair is hot for the bingo

im thinking of them going to the lake or something and Steve takes off his shirt and Eds nearly has a heatt attack bc yeah he'd seen Steve's chest before but he kinda repressed it? along with the whole upside down deal so he's like choking at the sight and at the newly found memory lol

but anything you come up with will be amazing im sure <3

every time i get a prompt i rub my lil raccoon hands together ehehehe

They weren't going to Lover's Lake. That had been the one thing everyone agreed on at first. Too much to unpack but it went without saying that no one wanted to relive the memory of what had happened in those waters. They all packed up and went about three hours away to a totally different town with a totally different lake.

"Summer time, a bunch of teens, a town where no one knows us", Eddie commented as they parked. "Did we just drive into another horror movie set up?"

"I think we can handle some random killer in the woods", Jonathan said.

Eddie couldn't argue. He knew for a fact that Steve had packed away his oh so trusty nail bat and that Nancy was strapped too. At a moment's notice, Robin looked ready to turn a beer into a makeshift molotov. But that was the last thought he wasted on the spring break from hell. Because the moment everything was set up, Steve pulled his shirt off like he was in a goddamn cologne ad.

That unnecessarily sexy way where he grabbed it off his back and pulled it of, shaking out his hair as if it would dare to fall out of place.

So here's the thing.

Eddie saw Steve shirtless that one time back in Hawkins. But it had been dark, and they were on a boat hunting an evil wizard and then in an underworld running from demon bats and there had been a lot going on, okay? He's ogled Steve plenty since then, now that he had time to, but he hadn't had an opportunity to see his naked chest again.

"Put on sunscreen!", Robin shouted, tossing it at Steve's head.

"Ow! Rude!" Steve picked it up and obeyed anyway, starting at his arms. Time seemed to slow. Or maybe Steve was purposely going slow, it was hard to tell. Then his eyes met Eddie and his next stroke up towards his neck seemed very intentional.

Eddie swallowed.

"Mind getting my back?", Steve asked.

Eddie didn't trust his mouth for once, so he just nodded, taking the tube of sunscreen and was definitely not thinking about squirting another kind of creamy white substance onto this beautifully dotted back. He tried to distract himself by looking at what the others were doing. Jonathan had already lit up a joint that he was now passing to Nancy. Robin was laid out in a chair, nose in a book.

Argyle was leading the kids down the shore to where they could rent out canoes. Or was it kayaks? All Eddie knew was that El was adamant on some sort of boating adventure.

"You okay back there?", Steve asked.

"Yep, yup, mhm. Almost done." He was done. The sunscreen was completely gone and he was just rubbing circles into his skin for no reason.

"You mind doing my chest too?"

"Wh-hat?", Eddie choked.

"I don't really like the feel of sunscreen on my hands", Steve justified and that was good enough for Eddie.

He still wasn't prepared for when Steve turned around. Eddie sat between his legs and god this might've been the closest they've ever been. Especially with this little amount of clothes between them, both of them in their swimming trunks and nothing else. Eddie squeezed some sunscreen onto his hands first, rubbing them together and warming it before pressing them to Steve's chest.

Goddamn it felt so....would it get thicker as he got older? It went all the way up to his collarbone and there was just a hint of a happy trail now but maybe with some time...

"They do know we're still here, right?", Nancy asked after letting out a puff. True, they were some feet away but still.

"I've got a spray bottle in case they go below the waist", Robin said, shaking said bottle.

Steddie bingo under the cut

[bobbinalong]

So, they age down Jon Kent. And then ... what?

Jon Kent's age-up is such a controversial decision, it needs no introduction. A lot of people still desperately want it to be reversed and usually, I'm quick to judge that idea, because even when I was still all for an age-down myself, I wasn't thinking even a minute past that.

Eleven-year-old Jon Kent was adorable and bright-eyed and I missed that adorable kid but let's be very honest, there wasn't too much depth to him. He was just ... a kid. And that was his appeal to me but that's not something you can draw a million stories from, it's quite a finite well of ideas.

But ... that's my opinion. My view point is limited to myself. So, with this post, I'm genuinely asking: And then what? What could they possibly do with an aged-down Jon they couldn't do with a 17/18-year-old Jon.

Under the cut I'll be looking at some of the ideas I've seen thrown around for this age-down but you can easily ignore that, it's just me ... rambling.

Just tell me why you think Jon should be aged-down (and I promise not to be a dick in response for once), because that's what this post is for, that's what I want to know. I'm curious.

Now:

"They stole Jon's childhood. I wanted to see him grow up."

This one, I sorta understand, because this is where I was coming from. These days, I'm more ... "eh" on it. Jon still grew up. He didn't skip a couple years, he lived all that. He says it himself:

(Superman (2018) #8)

So the solution to this seems easy. Give us Superboy: The Lost Years or something along those lines. Let us see him grow up. Retcon it a little so he didn't spend the whole time in the volcano, maybe, make him have to survive on Earth-3 after escaping.

That's not the childhood the people making this point mean and I get that but it's the childhood he's got. We don't know what would've happened if Bendis hadn't come along, you might've hated that just as much.

We absolutely missed out on childhood adventures. There's nothing in the way of us still getting those; they're just gonna be a little heavier and more traumatic than Super Sons. Which brings me to my next point, actually.

"They ruined the Super Sons! Jon and Damian's age-gap is way too big now."

Jon and Damian's age-gap has always been roughly three years. It's still roughly three three years; it's just reversed now. They would've always hit an awkward point. This argument has always been very confusing to me.

"They ruined the Super Sons!" (Without mentioning the age gap.)

I don't see how, honestly. We've pretty consistently gotten Super Sons content during and after the age-up, both with ten-year-old Jon and 17-year-old Jon. They got two Maxis after Jon's age-up, they got a movie, they appear in Specials, and they're still great friends when they get to hang out at their current ages.

And then there's the current Wonder Woman backups, which frankly nail the tone of the original Super Sons run, meaning they're not for me, but like. They do exist.

So if you miss the Super Sons ... well, I think you're not looking hard enough. Because yes, they don't have an on-going anymore, but that was gonna happen, anyway, DC isn't letting anything get past 20 issues these days for some reason. Save for Poison Ivy and Batman, I guess. If DC wanted them to, they could very much still have an on-going.

"I don't want them to de-age Jon because the Jon we've been following isn't the real Jon, anyway. I want them to bring back the real Jon."

Well, this is a conspiracy theory. And I'll be honest, I don't get this one. I don't even know where to start talking about it.

Let's assume the "real Jon" is still trapped in that volcano and he's still a child. Time has still ... passed in the DC Universe. Not as much as in ours, but he's been trapped there for, what, at least a year? So you're not even undoing anything.

This is on me for never looking for never following through on reading anyone's post who wants whatever this is to happen.

This one just seems incredibly stupid to me, I'm sorry. It's nonsense. I promised not to be a dick but it just. It just is.

You want two Jons? One of whom is ... fake? I don't get it.

So back to the beginning. They age-down Jon and then ... what? They can do all of this with current Jon just as well and probably in a more interesting way.

[vagabond-umlaut]

Sojourn In The Sun

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader; Arranged Marriage; Childhood Friendship To Complicated Feelings™️; Fluff; Angst; Canon-Compliant; Contains Manga Spoiler; Satoru & Reader Are So Cute, So Honest And So Kind-Of-Happy With Each Other Here– I Love Them!; Silly Jokes Are Their [& My] Coping Mechanism; Takes Place Between JJK 221 & 236.

Oneshot From Series: One Day, Three Autumns

"You. Baked. This. For. Me."

"No, Satoru. A stork flew in through ths kitchen window and dropped this bloody cake on that table."

"But don't they deliver babies or something? Plus, isn't that window a tad too tiny for such a big bird?"

"I guess, the stork must've dropped you on your head while delivering you to your parents, you know?"

A beat passes in response to your remark, before Satoru erupts into a fit of chortles and you shake your head with a huffed chuckle. Getting up from where you were hunched over the countertop, nibbling on an omelette and scrolling through your mobile, Satoru watches your face gleam in fondness in the late morning light, as you amble over to him.

Very messy hair. Ratty old clothes. Sleepy yet shiny eyes— His cheeks hurt from the sheer joy bubbling in his chest at this sight before him.

"Seriously, sweetness? Storks?" he asks, lifting his arm then dropping it to wrap round your shoulders as you reach him and snuggle into his side – only to catch hold of the hem of his huge sweater, and squeeze yourself into it, your tiny fingers clasping round his back as your head emerges at the top and you move to nuzzle into his neck, teeth biting cute little nips on the skin there.

If it was even two months back, Satoru reckons he would have been a hell lot stunned, seeing you give your affections so blatantly– that too at a place outside your shared bed, outside the darkness of the night.

But... It no longer is two months back. It is now. Not only in day, date, time. But also in the irreversibly mutated fashion the earth rotates on its axis everyday in the man's eyes. New experiences. New allies. New absences. New nightmares...— Everything's different from how it was before that chilly October night— Your husband deems it to be not an awful lot strange to see you too like this. The world is not the same as before; to survive, you too must change to adapt to the change, must you not?

Lips brushing your forehead once before dashing away, he asks in a soft yet humorous tone, "Too tired to give a reply, are we now, huh?"

"Not really," you hum, your words punctuated by a yawn you're quick to suppress; you resume, "I know only two birds which are said to be used in sending parcels and stuff. One, messenger pigeon– but they are too small to carry a cake like that. Two, stork– stories do say they were used to deliver babies – so I thought delivering a cake would be a piece of cake for them, heh!" You shoot him a grin, eyes crinkling at the corners into lovely half-moons, "Pretty funny and punny, ain't I?"

"Of course, sweetness. You are all three," Satoru is quick to agree with a nod— happy wife = happy life; plus, it's not like he's lying to you— A shadow of confusion falls on your face— Deciding to deal with it later, for the sake of the question weighing on his mind at the moment, the man repeats his ask from earlier, "You really really baked this for me?"

You return a nod, hints of a smile lurking in the shape of your lips.

"But why?"

Whatever happiness might've beginning to bloom on your features, it withers away– Your husband smacks himself internally for employing such a tone: So weak, so much so that it makes you peer up at him in concern he has only ever seen on you after a particularly bad mission.

So weak, so that it makes him hope you don't think him to be any less than 'The Strongest'— any less than being capable of standing beside you, protecting you, being worthy of you.

A pair of chapped lips plant themselves on his cheek. "Just because I wanted to bake a cake for you, 'Toru!" you explain with a giggle, albeit its subdued quality doesn't go past his eye, as you move a bit away to press a swift kiss on his other cheek; fingers drawing lazy patterns on his scalp and massaging the roots of his hair.

"You've always done too much for me and everyone else– Thought of returning the favour once, although I doubt it can ever match yours... Also, haven't you always wanted to eat a cake baked by yours truly?"

He has.

He so, so has.

Ever since the day you baked some muffins for him in the microwave oven of the school kitchen– him, a grumbling mess thanks to his all-too-familiar migraine and those old geezers– you, another grumbling mess thanks to your all-too-familiar insomnia and those annoying AF exams—

Satoru never imagined he could taste a sweet dish made by you ever again in his life, for the past ten years or so— given how the morning after that night you declared you would never bake again: "uff, that is too fuckin' tiring and boring!" and how every next time he came with a migraine to your door, you pointedly ignored his whining for you to bake him something, choosing to grab the warm and cold compress instead and give him a massage, following the manuals kept in stack-over-stack on your table—

Even during his teenage years, then later as an adult, the sorcerer has always missed your baking, but seeing you care for him in ways much too characteristically 'you'... he decided to pay no mind to such dumb wishes, he knows you'll never fulfill in this lifetime.

Except now you've fulfilled them and your husband doesn't know any response fitting enough to thank your efforts and thoughts through.

Throwing the cake a sideways glance, he brings his focus back to you gazing at him, to the eagerness reflecting in your irises. His lips tilt up into a smile, obeying a mind of their own.

"Blue velvet cake with white frosting... you sure do know how to make me happy, don't you, sweetness?" he muses out loud, carefully noting the warmth creeping up your neck into your cheeks and ears, "But, so much for a thanks... there must be another reason behind this, right?"

Feeling the tiny burst of air hitting him from your quiet exhale, Satoru lets you maneuver him towards the kitchen until he's leaning with his back against the marble island and you're nestling even closer to him.

A palm glides cautiously over the planes of his back.

Almost as if the man in front of you is a glass figurine–

Almost as if you're fine with him being a glass figurine.

So easy to read.

So easy to hurt.

So easy to care for with the gentlest of touches and softest of smiles, the look in your eyes tells every one of his six eyes– the innumerable chips and cracks in his very essence be damned—

You poke his cheek, a knowing twitch in your lips.

"You rarely ever cuddled me in bed before, yet now, every single night and day, I find you squeezing me with those arms and legs of yours..." Satoru's eyes widen. Your lips part in a fondly teasing grin. "Think why – really why– you hug me for warmth and don't hog the blankets; and you'll have your answer, 'Toru."

Birds shriek outside. Your mobile beeps thrice. Your omelette goes as frozen as poor Uranus on the countertop beside.

For the second time this cold day, the two of you break into laughter.

"And you'll have your answer, 'Toru!?!?" Satoru mimics you except in a soprano-esque shrill voice. "Who the fuck do you think we are, huh? A pair of lovers in some Shakespeare-y play, baring our feelings to each other in the soft glow of the winter sun, or some stupid shit like that?"

Another chuckle breaks free from your chest at his words; the grin on his face widening, he watches you take a long breath then say, "Nope nope nope! The both of us are way too uncivilised to play any role like in Shakespeare's plays — but Satoru~" you drawl your vowels out; his heart beats a little faster in his chest– "I can never be as unrefined as you, going as far as to keep your wife waiting, while you ask question after question– and not eat the cake and praise it, like a good spouse should, you know?"

"Oh, is it so?" The man inquires, brow raised, before warping with you in his arms to where the cake's kept, and cutting a big chunk with the knife kept, gobbles it all up in one go.

The tilt of your lips betrays the disapproving click your tongue makes.

A very content hum escapes Satoru. "Your baking's something out of this world–no, galaxy, sweetness. I hope you know–"

He stills, focus stolen by the letters and number a bit far on the table–

Satoru's gaze snaps back to you, only to find the same smile on your face– so simple, so devious– complicated and thwarted by the small expressive tremor of your lips; your gaze moving away from him to a calendar on your left and his right, the very same which stopped him—

Grasping your chin in his frosting-covered fingers, he drags your gaze back to himself, tutting, "You aren't any better than me, wifey. You too lack the same manners and etiquettes I do— So, now— c'mon, c'mon, c'mon–" he says, not unlike a broken record, playing the same section of music until he makes you cave in from the annoyance alone, "Wish your darling husband 'Happy Birthday 'Toru!!', give him a big birthday smooch, and be the courteous wife, you aren't really, but think you're— Now, go ahead, go ahead, go–"

"No."

"No?" Satoru echoes, holding back a weary chuckle. Or sigh. The man doesn't know which. You nod with that same stubborn determination of yours, he has happened to love-hate-tolerate over the years. "Yeah. No. I don't wanna. Wishing you can only solidify the fact that today is December 7th–"

"I think, the clock striking twelve few hours back solidified it–"

"Which will go on to cement the fact we're only 17 days away–"

"I don't think the fact needs any cementing. It's cast in stone–"

"Is there no way we can be happy, Satoru?"

Your question startles him into a momentary stun – not 'cause of the solemnity packed into every word of it – but because it serves as the mirror image to the question them cursed voices in his brain ask him in the warmth of the day, in the chill of the night, when he finds Yuuji sitting by himself with no spiky black hair nor bright orange hair next to him; when he catches the ashtray on Shoko's table filled with way too many cigarette stubs; when he wakes up to see you sitting in the dimly lit storeroom, a faded photograph or a childish drawing in your hand; when he looks at the mirror and finds the reason behind every pain his cherished ones have suffered, staring right back at him—

"There is," Satoru says, willing his mind to shut up for once, to let him say what he wants to say for once– the clock is ticking a bit too fast–

"Don't think of today as anything more than that it's December 7. Not how many days it's been since Halloween. Not how many days it'll be before it's Christmas Eve. Just focus on the fact it's my birthday, and everything will seem a hell lot better, even if it's only for a short time."

You peer at him attentively, before narrowing your eyes a bit. "Never took you as the kind to ignore reality, y'know?"

Your husband cracks an amused grin. "Still, standing in the middle of a warzone and actively ignoring it is cooler than running away from it, isn't it?"

"Cooler and dumber," you correct with a teasing grin and a waggle of your finger– however, before he can gather any retort to your remark, he finds himself being pulled down by his collar, his lips colliding with your waiting ones— the ensuing kiss a little sweet, a little spicy, a little shy, a little hungry; but overall, very, very addicting. Satoru thinks you can never give him kisses enough to satiate him, even for a tiny while.

He is always going to stay this ravenous, this yearning for you. In this lifetime and every other that follows. He can't ever get enough of you.

A tiny pop! reverberates in the bubble round you two, as your mouth gently separates from his, though never strays anywhere far, resting only few millimetres away. Eyes drifting to his swollen lips for a beat, Satoru watches you look at him again, cheeks heated and stretched in a smile.

"Happy birthday, Satoru," you whisper, "Many, many happy returns of the day."

"Thanks," the man mumbles, running a careful thumb back-and-forth over your bottom lip– before something clicks to life in his mind. Your husband registers a slow smirk form on his face. "But I guess it'll be a happier birthday if ya promise to bake me a cake every now and then. What do you think, sweetness?"

"Nah!" your reply arrives, as if it's a reflex response and not one which requires some thinking, "Baking's too fuckin' tiring and boring– But..." you trail off for a beat, the nonchalance on your face morphing into a tenderness– You resume, "Why don't you try and find out by yourself if I will ever decide to bake a cake for you, every now and then, yeah?"

The weight of your words lingers in the gap in between for a second.

Accepting the weight with an eager grin, Satoru closes the gap, him inclining forwards to rest his forehead on yours.

"Sounds like a challenge, sweetness. Good thing, I'm more than ready to try my best to meet it."

I do not own the characters used. Divider is by @cafekitsune. Please do not plagiarize or translate or repost this. Hope you enjoyed reading this! 😊

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