#i clutch to my knitting like an old lady

[bakingmoomins]

the moments I get more ideas for craft projects are the ones where im the busiest

[cherryheairt]

If I must

Cregan x reader one-shot

angst

'his wife' never named or described

summary - Cregan is forced to choose between his wife and his child

cw- death, blood, very sensitive topic ahead

Cregan paced outside of the birthing chambers, as he had for hours now. As tradition stated, the Lord was not to be by his Lady's side. Like his father Rickon Stark, Cregan had remained steadfast in his ruling of the North and its ancient traditions. The one time he had broken tradition in his four-year rule had been the night of his wedding, when he refused the bedding ceremony to keep his wife's dignity.

However, his resolve waivered greatly with every scream from his dear wife.

When her water broke on their morning walk through the Godswood, a routine they had developed since their first moon of marriage. His wife had insisted she could do it alone, as every woman in her own family had. They had both thought it to be over fast, just as her own mother had experienced with all of her children. A mere few hours for each, and they were out, healthy as horses.

Neither had expected the difficulty nor time her own birthing experience would be. It was approaching dawn, and no word had been given about the head breaching.

Finally, when it had gotten too much for her, Cregan's wife yelled out for him. Grateful for the excuse to break the tradition, Cregan stormed into the room like a man on fire. Immediately he went to his wife's side, allowing her to clutch onto his hand and arm to steady herself.

Maester Lyson and the midwife, an older lady that had seen many births of Winterfell and its surrounding towns, protesting his entrance immediately.

"My Lord, you must stay outside—" Lyson started before being sent an icy cold glare from Cregan, shutting the old man immediately up.

"Cregan..." His wife hoarsely called out, squeezing his hand as he held it in his. Her head leaned to his shoulder immediately, though the warmth was great and she felt like overheating, she still found a small comfort in his touch.

She was a mess of sweat and tears, skin glossed from the sheen of both. Her thin shift to conceal her modesty was drenched, sticking to her skin in a way that looked most uncomfortable. But, in front of a man, she was unable to remove the annoying fabric to cool off. Even though said man was gazing directly at her most intimate parts for hours as he waited for signs of the babe.

On one side of the bed were two of her handmaidens, who fussed over their Lady with glossy and concerned eyes. At the end of the bed sat the midwife and maester, with sweat dripped from each of their brows and concern lacing their expressions.

"What is the progress?" He asked them, gritting his teeth at their helpless glances.

"The babe has not yet breached, my Lord." The Maester replied, shifting to sit up straighter.

"Still? What is the matter?" Cregan asked, soothing his wife's hair out of her face as she yelled out in pain again.

The maester and midwife shared a glance that Cregan could not appreciate. Maester Lyson stood, beckoning his Lord to the door. "If I may speak with you a moment, privately."

His wife looked up at him, tightening his grip on his forearm and shaking her head, as if she knew something he did not. "Please, don't leave Cregan." She pleaded, though barely could conceal another groan of pain.

He kissed her forehead sweetly, rubbing a thumb over the apple of her cheek. "Just one moment, I promise." He told her, following the maester anxiously outside.

Maester Lyson wrung his hands, "Lord Stark, there has been a complication that we recently found."

Cregan knitted his brows together, sternly nodding for the Maester to continue.

"We thought the opening was simply taking a while to grow, so we waited. By now, it has been at proper size for hours."

"And what does that mean?" The Lord shifted on his feet.

"The babe is stuck in the canal somewhere, sideways instead of facing forward like he should." Lyson told him.

Cregan paled, swallowing harshly. "Can...Can he be moved?"

He recalled his own mother's birth complications with his younger brother, Breton, and how the maester was able to turn him within the womb to properly face head-first instead of sideways. It was painful for his mother, he knew from sitting outside anxiously with his father and hearing the sounds from the birthing room, but it was successful in the end.

The Maester avoided his intense stare, instead finding the floor more suitable to look at. "We could, my Lord. But, it would take a long time. By then, the babe might have suffocated."

"There is no other way?" He demanded.

"There is one, my Lord Stark." Lyson said, though did not look glad at his own revelation.

"Go on." Cregan said, irritated at the hesitance of the old man.

"We could cut the belly open, to retrieve the babe before he suffocates in the womb."

Cregan sucked in a sharp breath at the words spoken delicately to him.

A forced choice.

Between his firstborn child and his beloved wife.

Both were irreplaceable in his eyes. Both were the very beings he lived and breathed for—the ones he swore to protect before his own House and the entirety of the North. He would choose them over his duty to the North as its' warden, something his ancestors would turn their noses up at hearing.

But, it was true as the compass pointed North. Cregan would have to make a choice.

"If I must choose..." Cregan swallowed harshly, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching a fist at his side. "I would choose my wife." He said, though his voice shook for perhaps the first time in many years.

Lyson looked sympathetic as he nodded, but Cregan interrupted before he could speak again.

"She will get a choice, too. I can not force that from her, nor take away her autonomy." He said firmly. Cregan lifted a hand in a 'stay' gesture, entering the hazy room once more.

"Everyone out." He demanded, watching the women in the room hesitate before slipping past Cregan to wait right outside of the door.

"What's wrong, Cregan? No one is telling me anything." His wife grit out, taking his offered hand once more instead of the splintering wood of the bed.

He took a long moment to look over his wife. A glossed over look laid heavy in his stormy eyes, admiring her even in the disgruntled state she was in.

"My love," He started, kissing her paled knuckles gently.

She looked up at him, a sudden distraught look in her eye as if she knew exactly what he would say. "No." She shook her head rapidly before he could. "I can't, Cregan, please!" She pleaded, panting after as another wave of pain hit her hard. Through a whimpering groan of agony, she sobbed into the crook of his neck.

"Can't what, sweet girl?" He asked in a soft mutter, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. She had to make the final choice. He could not force something so cruel upon her. If she wanted the babe to live on in her place, it would be something he had to accept.

Even if it meant living without her.

He desperately, selfishly perhaps, wished that she would choose herself.

"I don't want to die." She sniffled and breathed rapidly, almost panicking herself into hyperventilation.

Cregan 'shushed' her quickly, smoothing down her messed hair in an attempt to calm her from working herself up even further. "You won't. You won't." He said firmly, holding her sideways to his chest.

"Cregan," she whispered again. "I can't do it." She shook her head, hot tears wetting his tunic. "I know what they do. I've heard the tales. Our own Queen—cut open on her bed by her husband. Please, Cregan, don't make them cut me."

Cregan felt his stomach drop at the words from his wife. She thought he would do that to her? Against her wishes, just hold her down and order the babe to be cut from her stomach, though the pain would be excruciating?

"That won't happen, my heart." He kissed her temple, glancing anxiously to the chamber's door. "But, the babe will not be likely survive if we turn it." He told her slowly.

"He will!" She insisted through a muffled sob. "I know he will. It will just take more time. I need more time."

Cregan found himself lost for words. He couldn't decieve her about her own child. She had been the happiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms at the news of her pregnancy many moons ago. That first day, she immediately sent ravens to all of her closest friends and family about the good news. She got to work on making blankets and clothes, embroidering hankerchiefs with potential names, even setting up the Great Keep's nursery early for preparation.

All her hard work, all her tears of joy and discomfort, her fears of not being a good mother, would all be for naught in her eyes. Every morning when she woke and every evening before she slept she would silently whisper a prayer to whatever Gods were listening: hoping for a babe that might grow to be just like their father. The life she had cherished for so long would not live to see the day's light.

Cregan would delusion himself, too, if the situation was not in front of his eyes so clearly.

The Gods must have turned their backs on the Starks this time. Even after hearing Cregan's dutiful prayers every morning at the Weirwood tree in the Godswood, praying for his wife and future child's good health and happiness, both requests were denied.

When he had been praying daily for the health and happiness of his House for every year prior to his marriage, that request was fulfilled kindly. Why were they shunning him now? Now, in the most important event of his life?

He summoned the awaiting crowd of people back into the room. They could wait no longer, lest both lives be put more at risk.

Maester Lyson looked up at Cregan from the end of the bed, brows raised impossibly high and indenting the deep creases on his forehead even more.

"Save her." Was all he could mutter.

They immediately moved to work.

The two maids dropped down to grasp at her arm from the other side of the bed, causing his wife to jerk from his shoulder in a panic. "What are they doing?" She asked, looking between the four people in the room and then Cregan.

"They have to turn the babe." He said, shifting to hold her hand and hold her arm subtly towards the mattress. "It will hurt, but it will be swift. You will be okay, you are so strong." He focused on her directly, gently caressing the apple of her cheek and brushing tears from her skin.

She heaved raggedly, though tried to calm herself and closed her eyes tightly. "Okay, okay. It will be over soon." She whispered to herself in comfort.

Cregan nearly broke down himself, but hardened himself for her sake. "It will."

It had already been a full day of the pain. A full day of her just waiting for it all to be finished with and their babe to be in her arms. She didn't need any more, though she would have to deal with it for a while longer.

The pain would soon fade. It would only last minutes. Then, the recovery would start. No one could tell Lady Stark how long that might take. Weeks, moons, years.

The Maester, though weathered with age and grey, still carried skillful and strong hands from his days of experience. Placing them at the sides of her belly, he whispered a plea to the Gods before beginning to apply great pressure on either side in a subtle twisting motion.

Cregan winced as his wife let out a curdling cry. Her head lept forward, though she was quickly soothed down to Cregan's chest by his own hand. His other, still grasping her arm within his to steady her, shook.

After minutes of more tears, cries, and aching pain, the Maester had successfully pushed the babe to position. Panting, he sat back into his chair heavily and leaned forward again. "Push, my Lady." He urged gently.

Lady Stark took a moment to breathe carefully, grounding herself on the bed. She was beyond tired, mentally and physically. She felt as if a single push might bring her to an early grave, never to wake again. But, it had to be done. The worst was yet to be over.

The pushing part might have been the easiest for Lady Stark if she were not so exhausted and pained already. Unlike most other ladies' excruciatingly painful yet amused tales of their babe's giant heads providing a bump in the path on the birthing bed, Lady Stark's babe came quick. Though the hastiness of it did not lesson the pain of what felt like a giant pumpkin leaving her belly, it helped her to ease her own mind. The quicker the babe was out, the quicker it could breathe.

The room was dead silent after the babe was in the midwife's arms. Lady Stark laid back fully, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving up and down, face shining with exertion. It was over. She could meet her babe, and possibly even never go through that sharp blade of fear again in her lifetime, if it were a son.

"A boy, my Lord..." The Maester whispered out, barely audible though the room.

She opened her eyes, glancing up to Cregan, who held tears from falling from his eyes as he held eye contact with Lyson.

"A son." She gasped out, squeezing Cregan's hand as his head whipped down to look at her again. "You were right." She weakly smiled.

"I was, my love. You did so well. Rest, now." He commanded gently, kissing her knuckles with all the adoration in the realm. Lady Stark fell asleep quickly, allowing herself to rest after all this time. She entrusted the care of her newborn son to Lyson and Esmerelda, and Cregan of course, the three who's been loyally by her side the entire pregnancy.

🗡

Lady Stark was awakened by the soft 'click' of the chamber door. Her blinked herself awake, adjusting herself to sit more against the headboard. As she did, she winced at the feeling in her back and lower region. Taking a deep breath in, the Lady placed a soothing hand on her own stomach, a habit she gained for her time in pregnancy. Feeling the emptiness, she was reminded of the previous day.

Cregan silently planted himself at her side, looking to be in the same clothes he had been in since her labors started. Quite unlike him, she thought with amusement, their son must be keeping him busy.

"It's been nearly two days since you fell asleep. Gave us all quite a scare." He started, smiling weakly at his wife with those tired eyes of his.

Surprised, she raised a brow. "I must've been exhausted from the labors. Where's the babe, have you decided on a name yet?" She asked quickly, peering behind him as if the wet nurse might come in any second with her son in her arms.

He hummed. "Callan."

She smiled, huffing a small laugh. "That's the one I put on most of the babe's stuff." There were many that she planned, boy and girl names, but Callan had been a not-so-secret favorite of hers.

"I know, my dear."

Lady Stark frowned. "Is something wrong, husband?" She asked, wiping at a line under his eye. "You look worse for wear."

He took her hand, leaning into it and rubbing at her soft hand with his calloused one. "Rest up some more. I'll send someone in with your favorite." He said vaguely, standing from his seat and abruptly leaving the room. Lady Stark was left alone, feeling all but abandoned.

A million thoughts ran through her mind. Had her appearance changed after the birth? She'd been the one to comfort her friends whilst they cried about their husbands started favoring maidens after they provided heirs. She'd never feared the same for Cregan, he'd never gave any hinting towards such things. If anything, his hunger for her grew just as she did.

If not that, then what? Cregan was not a liar, and had never been. What he wouldn't lie about, he would simply stay quiet about. As a bowl of potato soup and soft rolls were brought into the chambers, Lady Stark found herself without an appetite even after three days of no sustenance. Weakly sitting herself fully up, she nearly cried at the feeling of pressure. Steadying herself and steeling her nerves, Lady Stark pushed through all the pain to leave the bed (that felt more like a prison by the minute) and stand to her felt. She hunched over like an old lady, clutching at her abdomen at the sharpness. It was a mistake to stand up without aid so soon, but she'd pay the consequences later. For now, she needed to see her son.

Every step felt like ten. She wabbled slightly each time, feeling as if she might tip over. The hearth and walls were her temporary crutches as she leaned against them, slowly but surely exiting the room to the Stark's family hall. Her and Cregan's chambers were just doors down, unused since she had been in the birthing room and he presumably hadn't slept.

Ahead, she found Cregan in the archway leading to the councilroom with Lyson in front of him. Neither spotted her as she leaned her full weight to the cobble wall. Lyson had a guilt-ridden look on his aged face, mostly avoiding his Lord's eyes as they spoke hushedly. She could barely make out the conversation.

"...will be fine, my Lord. As far as complicated births go, she is lucky."

"Lucky?" Cregan hissed, stepping forward. "Tell that to my wife's face. Nothing about this is fortunate, Lyson."

Lyson nodded solemnly, apologizing. "Of course, my Lord. I only meant that the Gods have blessed her with heath. She will be fine, and with some time, she will be healed enough to have another."

She almost groaned at the thought. Yes, it was her duty to provide at least an heir and perhaps a 'spare', though she hated the thought of people calling her second son a spare just because of birthing order. She would need a few years before she'd be ready for that again.

Cregan threw his arms up in frustration, running fingers through his hair. A sign of stress, one that she found he had recently been doing more since her pregnancy.

"We will not talk about her like that. Like her worth is just her womb."

"I do agree, Lord Stark. You know I do." Lyson said weakly. "But it's the people's expectation."

"My son is gone. The people can pretend to give their sympathies, but my wife cannot simply move on that swiftly. I cannot move on like that." Cregan insisted, almost sounding tearful despite present company. It was unlike him to cry, or even show any weakness at all. But Lyson had basically raised the boy since his parents passed.

Lady Stark felt that familiar pit in her stomach fall.

It had to be a lie, a falsehood from the Gods themselves. She had pushed through all the pain she was tasked with. She delivered her babe swiftly, leaving no time for him to suffocate like predicted. Callan was in the nursery.

Lady Stark turned as fast as she could, limping her way backward toward the Stark nursery. Whipping open the door, she was met with a stillness. The room was barren of any noise or life. Not even the trees outside of the window moved, not a leaf stirring. It was utterly lifeless. Moving towards the crib, Lady Stark leaned over the bassinet. The bundle of soft velvety pinks, blues, greens, and yellows lie perfectly still. Moving them, she found nothing but the sheet underneath. All kinds of names were sewn onto corners.

Aevery.

Rickon.

Aelise.

Benjamin.

Callan.

She clutched the grey-blue blanket to her chest, feeling it grow wet with her own tears. Falling to the floor, her knuckles paled at how hard she fisted the blanket.

She should have allowed it. She should have cut herself open to bring Callen out from her womb herself. She killed him. Selfishly, she picked her own menial life over that of her own son. The boy who never got to breathe a single breath outside of the womb. Never got to see the fresh powdery snow of Winterfell fall. Never felt the warmth of the sun on his face. Never got to live a day.

She was unaware of how much time had passed, if any at all, when she heard that soft and deep voice behind her. "Wife?"

She could not find a will to reply. Could not find anger at her husband for him keeping this from her, nor sorrow for her own failure. A stilling numbness surrounded her like a cocoon of protection.

"My heart." It came again, surrounding her. Arms wrapping around her from the front, encasing her further. Though she was silent, he continued to murmur. "I am so, so sorry. I wished to wait—until you recovered a bit."

Lady Stark did not yell. She did not scream or cry, nor pound her fists on his chest til he left her alone in her solitude. She sat there, lifelessly.

"Say something, please. Anything." He pleaded desperately, seperating them only to hold her face in his hands. She lifted her gaze, finding his sturdy grey eyes to be filled with wet tears. They, too, dampened the blanket.

"I miss him." She whispered. "But how can I, when I haven't even met him? When I killed him before he got his chance."

His gaze hardened, "do not ever speak such things. You did not kill our son. This is not your fault."

She stayed silent, nodding simply to please him. He sighed deeply, settling himself lamely next to her and leaning her head upon his shoulder.

"I miss him, too."

🗡

Wanted to do more with his in terms of length and fleshing out the characters but its been sitting in my drafts for so long I just needed to finish 😭

obviously this is written from the povs of the parents, post partem anything is super tough and emotional. it is in no way selfish to pick yourself or your wife over the baby. In fact, it is what I would do. the lady blaming herself for 'killing the babe' and being selfish for not killing herself to do it is purely in grief and not my real perspective on this type of thing.

Needed angst rn im sick of happy endings 😝

[inkspiredwriting]

The Unbelievable Girlfriend

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves was known for many things: his intellect, his sarcasm, and his ability to time travel. But a steady girlfriend? That seemed as likely as a peaceful family dinner at the Hargreeves mansion. His siblings had dismissed his claims about having a girlfriend named Y/n, writing them off as one of his sarcastic jokes or, at best, a figment of his busy imagination.

"A girlfriend? You? Right," Klaus had laughed, lounging on the couch with a cocktail. "That’s rich. What’s next, Five? You’re taking up knitting?"

"I’m serious," Five had replied, not bothering to hide his irritation. "Y/n is real."

"Sure she is," Viktor had chimed in, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Next you’ll tell us you’ve joined a book club."

Even Diego, typically more reserved, had smirked and given Five a skeptical once-over. "You? A girlfriend? I’ll believe it when I see it."

Five had merely sighed and muttered under his breath about his annoying, disbelieving siblings.

It was a lazy Sunday morning, the mansion wrapped in a rare hush, save for the occasional creak of the old building settling. The Hargreeves were scattered in various states of sleep and wakefulness.

Klaus, ever the early riser despite his nocturnal habits, shuffled down the stairs towards the kitchen, craving coffee. He was still half-asleep, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he pushed the kitchen door open. What he saw made him stop dead in his tracks, his drowsiness vanishing in an instant.

There, standing by the fridge and seemingly unaware of his presence, was a woman. She had tousled hair, and was wearing nothing but an oversized shirt that Klaus immediately recognized as Five’s. She was rummaging through the fridge, one hand on her hip, the other pushing aside leftovers as she muttered to herself about breakfast options.

Klaus blinked several times, then broke into a wide, mischievous grin. "Well, well, well," he said, his voice loud and teasing. "What do we have here? A mysterious lady in Five’s shirt? Did I miss the memo?"

The woman, startled, turned around and nearly dropped a carton of juice. "Oh! Hi! You must be Klaus," she said with a sheepish smile. "I’m Y/n. Five’s girlfriend."

"Y/n? Five’s girlfriend?!" Klaus's grin widened to Cheshire Cat proportions. "I thought you were a myth! This is better than Christmas morning!"

"Nice to meet you too," Y/n said, her cheeks flushing slightly. "And, uh, sorry for raiding your fridge."

"Raid away, my dear," Klaus replied, grabbing his phone and snapping a quick picture. "No one’s gonna believe this without evidence. This is gold!"

Klaus, unable to contain his excitement, darted out of the kitchen, shouting through the mansion. "Guys! Guys! Get down here! You have to see this!"

The clamor woke the rest of the siblings, who groggily made their way to the kitchen, curiosity piqued by Klaus’s enthusiasm. As they filed in, they found Y/n standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, one hand clutching the juice carton, the other tugging at the hem of Five’s shirt.

"What the hell is going on?" Diego demanded, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Meet Y/n," Klaus announced with a flourish, gesturing to the blushing woman. "Five’s very real, very present girlfriend."

"No way," Allison said, her eyes widening as she looked Y/n up and down. "You’re... real?"

"Very real," Y/n confirmed with a nervous laugh. "And, uh, sorry for the intrusion."

"Holy crap," Viktor murmured, blinking in astonishment. "Five actually has a girlfriend."

"Well, this explains why he’s been sneaking around lately," Diego muttered, crossing his arms. "Thought he was up to something."

The commotion finally reached Five’s ears as he groggily sat up in bed, confused by the distant shouting. He grabbed his phone and saw the incriminating photo Klaus had sent, complete with the caption: "Caught your girlfriend red-handed! Or should I say shirt-handed?"

"Oh, for the love of—" Five grumbled, throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before storming downstairs.

As he burst into the kitchen, he found his siblings gathered around Y/n, who was looking more amused than embarrassed by the attention.

"What the hell is going on here?" Five demanded, his voice cutting through the chatter.

"Your girlfriend happened," Klaus replied, draping an arm around Y/n’s shoulders. "And she’s delightful."

"Let her go, Klaus," Five growled, pulling Y/n away from his brother. "She’s not a sideshow attraction."

"Oh, lighten up, Five," Viktor said, laughing. "We’re just surprised, that’s all."

"Surprised? They didn’t believe you existed," Five told Y/n, who chuckled.

"Yeah, I kind of gathered that," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "But it’s fine. They’re pretty entertaining."

Despite the early hour, the kitchen quickly turned into a bustling hub as the siblings, now fully awake and buzzing with curiosity, sat down for an impromptu breakfast. Y/n, still clad in Five’s shirt, fit right in, handling their barrage of questions with ease and humor.

"So, Y/n," Allison began, passing her a cup of coffee. "How did you meet Five?"

"We met during a rather... unconventional mission," Y/n explained, shooting a teasing glance at Five. "He was all business and no fun, but somehow he won me over."

"Typical," Diego muttered, munching on a piece of toast. "Sounds just like him."

"And what do you see in our dear brother?" Klaus asked, winking. "He’s not exactly Mr. Sunshine."

Y/n laughed, leaning into Five’s side. "He’s not, but he’s got a good heart. And he makes life interesting."

Five, though trying to maintain his usual stoic demeanor, couldn’t hide the small, proud smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, welcome to the family," Viktor said, raising his coffee mug. "Glad to finally meet you."

As the morning progressed, the initial surprise gave way to camaraderie, and the siblings’ teasing turned into genuine interest and acceptance. Y/n proved to be more than capable of handling their quirks and chaos, and by the end of breakfast, it felt as if she had always been a part of their unconventional family.

Five, though slightly annoyed by the morning’s events, was relieved to see how well Y/n fit in. He pulled her aside as the others began to disperse, giving her a soft kiss.

"Sorry about all this," he said, gesturing to the now-empty kitchen. "They can be a bit... overwhelming."

"Are you kidding? I love it," Y/n replied, smiling up at him. "It’s nice to finally meet the people you’ve been telling me about. And they’re not as scary as you made them sound."

Five laughed, shaking his head. "Just wait until they really start trying to scare you off."

"Let them try," Y/n said confidently. "I’m not going anywhere."

Later that day, as the Hargreeves siblings went about their usual routines, Klaus couldn’t resist one last jab at Five. "So, how was your stormy night, Five? Must’ve been quite the adventure."

Five just rolled his eyes, but there was a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Mind your own business, Klaus."

But as Klaus sauntered off, humming to himself, Five couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction. For once, things had turned out better than he’d expected. Y/n was accepted, and his siblings finally believed he had a girlfriend.

As he watched Y/n chatting animatedly with Allison and Viktor in the living room, he knew that despite the morning’s chaos, everything was exactly as it should be.

[planetkiimchi]

the first drops of rain | k.mg

summary — mingyu's your first love. your first date with him could be described as fairytale like, at least until it begins raining. even then, maybe the rain is a paid actor, teaching you to slow down in your fast-paced student life.

featuring: mingyu x gn!reader, highschool au

word count: 2729 words

a/n: first seventeen work! kinda thought my first svt work would be seokmin or minghao but HAHA we’re here instead with a mingyu work. it’s based off a very precious memory of mine, and i felt like mingyu’s personality was the most similar to the guy i went out with <3

mingyu: we’re meeting at the start of the trail at 9, right?

You react to his message with a thumbs up, pulling up your shoes and glancing outside. The start of the trail is only a few hundred metres away from your house, so you’re not in a rush.

Mingyu asked you out on this date a few months ago, but you were overseas during the winter break, and weren’t able to go out with him. After a few months of discussing where to go, you finally settled on going cycling with him.

The sun rose quite a while ago, and the temperature is rather warm, but you figure that it’ll all be fine.

You check the time again and head downstairs, cycling over to the subway station to meet Mingyu.

You’re a few minutes late, so you expect to see Mingyu waiting there when you arrive, an apology already on the tip of your tongue, but you’re surprised when he’s not.

In fact, you have to wait another ten minutes before he finally arrives, a little out of breath and completely lost, without a bicycle. He smiles sheepishly at you, tucking his hands into his pockets.

He mumbles a “sorry”, curly hair falling in his eyes as he looks earnestly at you, shoulders raised in his nervousness.

Your annoyance at his tardiness dissipates once you see him in this state, genuinely apologetic and well-meaning. You let a soft sigh escape your lips. It’s okay.

Mingyu raises his phone and hesitantly says he needs to pick up his bike.

You’re about to reply when an old lady comes up to you, one hand clutching her grocery stroller. She politely asks if you know where the Flower Market is?

You nod. It’s right next to your apartment block, and you often go there to buy groceries yourself. You point the lady in the direction of the market, turning back to Mingyu.

Once again, before you can speak, Mingyu jerks his head at the stairs that the old lady has to climb up to get out of the subway station and onto the pavement. She lifts up the grocery stroller, and you rush to help her with it.

She smiles at you. Thank you.

You smile back. No problem.

Tilting your head towards the stairs, you beckon Mingyu to follow. The bicycles are located at the lowest level of the apartment block directly opposite yours, so you’re heading in the same direction as the lady anyway.

Once you’ve helped the old lady get her stroller up to the top of the stairs, you wave goodbye to her, prepared to head back down the flight of stairs to get your bicycle.

Fortunately for you, you don’t have to. Mingyu holds your bicycle in his hands, setting it down at the top of the stairs, and your heart warms, just a little.

It takes a longer time to figure out how the bike sharing system works than you thought it would. Mingyu scans the QR code on the back of the bicycle, frowning as he navigates the app, trying to figure out how the payment works. You stand to the side, holding on to your bicycle’s handlebars, watching his eyebrows knit themselves into a knot, before the wrinkles in his forehead slowly iron out when he finally gets the app to work.

All set? you ask.

Mingyu nods. All set.

You climb onto your bicycle, eager to head off, and Mingyu follows behind.

With the sun beating down on your backs, the two of you start off on the trail, figuring out a pace that works for both of you. You haven’t cycled in a long time, and you can’t go too slow, or you’ll be too unsteady for both of you to ride side-by-side on the narrow path.

The greenery on both sides of the trail helps to keep the temperature down, and you’re grateful for the shade it provides in the heat of summer. Next to you, Mingyu asks how school has been. You reply with one of those blasé “school is good” type of answers, but he doesn’t accept that.

Mingyu keeps prodding.

And, with your feet pedalling hard underneath you and the glare of the blue sky overhead, you find yourself opening up.

It’s started drizzling slightly when you reach the bicycle racks, so you chain your bicycles up and head to the nearby subway station to seek shelter. While you’re standing there, you ask Mingyu where he wants to go.

Originally, you wanted to go to watch a movie, but since the date was so impromptu, you didn’t check the movie timings out beforehand, so now you realise that none of the timings are convenient for you.

It’s fine, Mingyu insists. He’ll figure something out.

It doesn’t take long before he’s dragging you down another path you didn’t notice earlier, one that leads to a train station that’s no longer in use. Two carriages of the trains are left on the tracks as a memorial to the old train station, and despite the red tape covering the doors, Mingyu climbs up into the carriage.

You’re standing on the edges of the train tracks, watching him grin at you from inside. He leaps from the seat with a yelp, almost knocking his head, and he quickly exits the carriage.

What’s wrong? you ask.

He lifts his hand to show you that the seat was wet.

You laugh whole-heartedly and he pouts, but the joy in his eyes betrays him. His poorly-concealed excitement only grows when he looks ahead to see a bridge, breaking out into a run towards it.

You attempt to follow him, still balancing on the edges of the train tracks, quickly giving up when he doesn’t show any signs of waiting for you.

He turns around at the start of the bridge, and you grin at him as you step up onto the train tracks. He steps onto the edge next to yours, your feet moving in sync along those parallel metal lines drawn across the wooden tiles, his arms waving wildly as he fails to keep his balance.

Mingyu shakes his head out when he’s fallen three times, running his hand through his hair, glancing at you with the widest smile you’ve ever seen.

Your sunshine. That’s what he is, walking alongside you as you tread across the train tracks, hands carefully tucked into his pockets, watching your every step.

He speeds up when you hop off the tracks, and you follow him into a neighbourhood with two-story houses. Plants line the sidewalks, with overgrown creepers crawling up the walls and trees overhead shading you from the sun.

He points at the sign and tells you he came here once before, after his mother scolded him. It’s dangerously close to his home, a place that contains memories you can’t be a part of, a place you’re not sure you’re ready to intrude into.

You do anyway.

Mingyu leads you to the playground he’s only been to once before, when he was running away from his mother, and you pass by the empty basketball court.

You love basketball, you tell him, your steps slowing down. He whirls on his heel, looking up at the hoops, shading his eyes from the sun with his hand. Really?

Really, you say. You tell him how you used to play basketball during your half-hour long recess in elementary school instead of eating. Even though you were really bad and only played with a group of 5-6 other friends, it was still fun.

He understands.

You teach him how to climb onto the roof of the playground, your hands and feet making holds out of the railings and slides. You show him a view of the world that you loved as a kid, a view that makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re unbeatable, invincible, and that the moment will last forever.

Slithering off the roof, you discreetly pull out your phone, but Mingyu spots you quickly enough. Don't film me, he pouts, eyebrows in a knot as his foot staggers around for a foothold.

You laugh and keep your camera pointed at him.

He hops down—ungracefully, you’d like to add; you think you were pretty graceful when jumping down yourself—and beckons you over with his hand.

Mingyu leads you to a sheltered area where the playground floor and gravel gives way to grass and soil, the trees overhead casting so much shade you get the impression that you’re in a rainforest. You can barely see past the crowns of the trees to the sky, which you’re sure is a shade of blue-grey. You can tell that it’s not raining, or the playground would be getting wet, but it isn’t quite sunny yet either.

The creak of a red swing brings your attention back to Mingyu. He smiles at you in warm invitation, and you take it, stepping up onto the swing. Your legs are on the left of his, your knees a fist’s width away from his. Opposite you, Mingyu lifts his eyes to yours and begins to speak.

How’s school, how’s life, how’s that toxic friend group in your dance club? he asks.

Stressful, interesting, shitty as ever, you reply.

He asks things like why, tell me more, is that leadership position working out for you?

You reply with much longer answers than you thought you would. The words flow from you like air leaking from a balloon with a hole. There’s so much pent-up frustration, bottled-up confusion, anxiety, envy, and even sadness you didn’t notice you were suppressing. They find their way out of your mouth in words you're surprised are coherent enough for him to understand, but somehow he manages it.

You’re not the only one telling stories, though. You ask Mingyu questions too, stuff like how’s being drama club president, do you like your juniors, what do you want to do at university?

And he, too, replies with amazing, I love them, I don't know but I’d like to be a counsellor someday.

And you learn.

From his smiles and nervous fidgeting and “um”s, you learn that he’s nervous. From the way he leans forward to talk to you and nods when you speak, you learn that his interest in you is genuine. From the tone of his voice and the smile in his eyes, you learn about his habits of joy and excitement. You pick apart his every move to learn something from it, absorbing a little more knowledge about him each time.

An hour or two passes. As it starts to drizzle again and lunch hour approaches, Mingyu gets up from the swing, not forgetting to hold it while you step off, and goes to the bench to get his tote bag before his things are drenched in the rain.

With a hand above your heads shielding you from the drizzle, the two of you half run-half walk to the mall nearby for lunch, raucous laughter echoing in your ears.

Mingyu offers to pay for your lunch thrice, and you refuse each time, reluctant to let him take money out of his allowance to pay for your meal. He insists you should let him pay for it, telling you that his father will give him more money. Still, you decline.

When he goes to visit the restroom, you quickly take your chance to buy your food before he gets back.

You take a seat successfully and wait for him to return, and he does—not without him trying to slide the bill into your bag first. After a while, he finally gives in, and the two of you settle down for lunch.

Lunch ends at around the same time the sky clears, and the two of you are rushing to climb onto your bicycles and leave before the rain starts up again. The weather has been unpredictable that morning, and you’re unwilling to take your chances. Instead of lingering around the mall, you’re unlocking your bicycle, fiddling with the stubborn lock, and Mingyu waits patiently beside you.

All set? he asks for the second time that day.

You reply the same way, All set.

Then you’re off, legs pedalling furiously, your balance miles better when you’re moving fast. In the morning, you had to keep swerving to avoid knocking into Mingyu at the slow pace you were going, but now you’re just trying to get home before it rains again. Your curfew is pretty early, and if you dally any longer, you’re definitely going to get an earful when you’re home.

Mingyu easily keeps pace with you, following your lead. From time to time, he’ll catch up and ride beside you for a stretch, and then you’ll pedal faster and he’ll fall behind again.

You feel the drizzle beginning when you ring your bell, bypassing yet another jogger on the trail. Cursing, you pick up speed, and Mingyu doesn’t question you as he follows behind.

The rain grows heavier more quickly than you’d expected, and soon there’s a steady stream of water raining down. You wipe futilely at your forehead from time to time, glasses sprayed with raindrops, and Mingyu calls out after you, laughing.

I’m not supposed to cycle in the rain, you tell him. My mum is going to kill me!

He seems to get it, but when you seek shelter under an overhead bridge to wipe your face with the remaining dry part of your T-shirt, he’s laughing at you.

You roll your eyes and point out the bits of water on his face, but he shrugs. You’re going to be cycling through the rain again anyway, so he doesn’t see the need to dry his face.

You clench your jaw, resolved to get home as soon as possible. The two of you climb back onto the bicycle, and start cycling home.

As if trying to deliberately annoy you, the downpour only gets heavier on your way home. It keeps coming down, and you fight to keep your balance and not skid on the watery path. You’re forced to slow down a little, your legs no longer pedalling as fast.

Your anxious heart begins to slow, and Mingyu's calm, sure voice carries over to you, despite the rain falling steadily around you. The sun is still high in the sky, and you wonder if there'll be a rainbow. That would be befitting for Mingyu, you think.

The whole way back, your mind is occupied by Mingyu's questions, his curiosity warming your heart. He genuinely cares about you, and this care distracts you from your fear of reaching home late. All thoughts of what your mother will say go out the window, until he's returned his bicycle and you've parked yours near the subway station, heading to the toilet to change into a new, dry shirt.

Mingyu didn't think to bring change, so he waits for you outside. He offers to help carry your bag, but you insist you can do it yourself. Just the thought that he's there, waiting outside, comforts you.

The two of you walk alongside each other on the way back to your home. You won't stop him from walking you home, especially not when you enjoy his company so much. He mentions something about his future family and you stiffen, afraid that he's jumping the gun. Your commitment issues start to resurface, your mind whirring as your heart jumps into panic mode, but you force yourself to take a few deep breaths and laugh.

He seems too happy to notice how forced your laugh is. Instead, he's asking for your mother's name, repeating it the whole way to make sure he's got it right.

Mrs? he asks.

Aunty, you correct.

Aunty, he repeats, and you nod your head. He asks for your father's, too, and he's still mumbling their names when you come up to the door. You ring the doorbell, and your mother comes to open the door, greeting Mingyu with a warm smile and a hearty welcome.

Come on in, she says. Mingyu shakes his head bashfully.

I've got to be going, he says. See you, Aunty.

You step into the house and wave at him until he's out of sight, your mother watching his retreating figure with you.

He seems like a nice boy, she says.

Oh, he is.

[myloveforhergoeson]

That's All She Wrote - Chapter 30

Chapter Index

Find me on wattpad + ao3!

Chapter 30: Kiss Me (2.10) ~ 12k

Carlos wanted a girlfriend. Badly. Desperately.

Inherently, there was no issue with that, though one could call the methods in which he went about obtaining one quite orthodox. As in, confiding in Logan, who told Kendall, who told James, who told Roxy. Normally, there wasn’t a quadruple authentication factor when asking someone out, but there all four of them were, putting Kendall’s ridiculous plan in place for Carlos to impress the new girl at the Palm Woods, Kiyoko. 

A Big Time Rush scheme to get a girlfriend? Roxy figured there was about a 50/50 shot of them actually pulling this off. Considering she was already dating one of them, she should at least have a little bit of faith. 

“This is Tree Hat. I repeat, this is Tree Hat,” Kendall whispered into the walkie-talkies the four boys and Katie shared. The pool served as the ideal location for them to pull their plan off but separated them enough to warrant means of immediate long-distance communication. “Is everybody in position?”

From behind one of the big, blue cabanas, Roxy clutched onto Logan’s arm and looked back over her shoulder. Her friend was situated behind one of the many planters outside with his hat on, peering their way with a pair of binoculars, waiting for their response. While she held her thumb up for a moment to answer his question, she slowly drew it to her throat and drew a line across her skin, sticking her tongue out. 

Kendall flipped her off in response. 

“Helpless old lady and clueless granddaughter, ready!” Logan answered into his walkie-talkie, vocalizing his role in the plan.

After thoroughly raiding Mrs. Knight’s closet and Camille’s endless costume wardrobe, the five teens had found enough items to combine into the perfect helpless old lady disguise. A churchy dress, a nice knit sweater, ugly little loafers, and a graying wig sold the look they were planning on placing their assistant in. Only, the dress and shoes hadn’t fit her, one far too long and the other far too big, to sell the role they’d needed. Also, the purse they’d dug up didn’t go with the outfit at all. There's no way she’d be caught dead without a matching bag. So, her part was handed off to the next best person - Logan. And he played one hell of a helpless old lady.

Roxy had been demoted to clueless granddaughter, which she felt fit perfectly, considering she didn’t know what having a grandmother was like. From what she’d heard from Jo, the bond between a grandmother and her granddaughter was like no other; If she could pick anyone to fill that role for her, she supposed Logan was better than nothing. 

“Purse snatcher good to go,” Her boyfriend whispered into the radio, making her jolt at the sound. James was situated on the opposite side of the pool in a daunting all-black outfit, ready to grab the ugly bag off of Logan’s arm. They’d time their encounter just right in order for it to happen in front of Kiyoko,  who was suntanning in one of many lounge chairs outside, where Carlos would swoop in and save the day. Logan had brought up some love-science reason it would make her fall in love with him, but the words he’d used were too big and too fancy for the rest of them to grasp. Instead, Roxy’d managed to translate It’s just so heroic! Like something out of one of my romance novels!

The water of the pool in front of them calmly lapped as they waited for the rest of the group to confirm their positions.

“Flowers are locked and loaded,” The speaker crackled, Katie’s voice coming through now, and Roxy watched from her and Logan’s hiding spot as the young girl placed a large, colorful flower bouquet on the table closest to where Kiyoko was relaxing. 

Kendall chimed in again, “Copy that. Operation Get Carlos A Girlfriend is underway.” 

 From the side of the planter, Carlos emerged, helmetless and in a handsome sky-blue button-up he’d stolen out of James’ closet. Though he was clutching his hands together and knitting his brow, he had a fierce determination in his eyes which his assistant could spot a mile away. It was the same face he made while working out a complicated dance routine on stage.

Punch out the mugger, give Granny her purse back, then grab the flowers and give them to the pretty girl. Roxy recited Kendall’s plan in her head, trying to mentally will her thoughts into Carlos’ brain as she and Logan rounded the corner and began to walk down the edge of the pool at Kendall’s bird call of a signal. 

“Oh, I’m so old and frail!” Logan coughed out, pitching his voice about two octaves higher than normal, “Could you hold my purse, Roxanne, darling, it’s just so heavy because it’s full of money!”

The assistant rolled her eyes at his terrible acting but nodded her head and accepted the bag in order to play along. It’s not like she was any better at it than he was. “Of course, Granny, here let me-” 

At that moment, James came sprinting down the stretch of the pool deck in his mugger outfit, which sent Roxy’s heart into overdrive. With a midnight black balaclava over his face, she could hardly recognize him, and he was always just a little too invested in his roles thanks to his stint in community theater in Duluth and his acting courses with Camille last year. 

Ugh. That managed to snap the girl out of her moment of panic. 

“Give me that purse!” He cried, attempting to snatch it from Roxy. Unfortunately for him, now fueled by her unwanted thoughts of James and Camille hanging out together, she tugged it right back. 

Sure, they’d talked it over, but that didn’t exactly alleviate how much it still bothered her.

“Stop it! Help us!” Logan cried, though he did manage to poke Roxy in the side when he realized she was struggling for the purse, trying to remind her of her place in their plan. 

But still, she didn’t relent, going back and forth with her boyfriend over the purse she told herself she’d never be seen with until Carlos landed on the scene, triumphantly announcing, “Don’t worry, ladies! I’ll save you!”

When he got his hands on the purse James and Roxy were fighting over, he tugged it straight up into the air with such force, that the two of them stumbled into each other, losing their grip on the bag. 

For what it was worth, there were worse places for Roxy to be thrown than into her boyfriend’s arms; Namely, the pool one foot to her right. She nearly forgot they were putting on a show as she allowed her cheek to linger on his solid chest for a moment, the thought of Camille completely obliterated as James caught her.

“Thank you so much!” Granny Logan beamed, right before Carlos sent a right hook directly into his cheek. 

The girl gasped, one hand flying over her mouth as her brows shot to her hairline. Carlos had mixed up the parts James and Logan were playing, making a fatal mistake. When she worked up the courage to peek over at Kiyoko, the new girl was sat up in her chair, jaw practically on the floor at the sight of a stranger taking out a defenseless old woman. 

But, Carlos didn’t recognize his mistake at all, diving for the gorgeous bouquet Katie had placed on the table beside Kiyoko’s chair. 

Uh, oh.

Without thinking, he passed the flowers off to Robber James, who nearly dropped them because he was too busy trying to steady his girlfriend and then proudly presented the snatched purse to Kiyoko with a blindingly white smile. A few seconds of silence washed over the pool area, considering the band, their assistant, and Katie had caused quite a stir, before Kiyoko let out a bloodcurdling scream and dashed off toward the hotel lobby. 

“Yeah, we probably should’ve rehearsed more…” Kendall trailed off into the walkie-talkie, voice ringing unpleasantly in everyone's ears while Carlos tried far too late to correct his mistake. 

Eagerly, he wrestled the bouquet out of James’ hands and held them out to Logan, now sporting quite the shiner on his jaw, breathing out an unimpressed, “Really?” 

The trek back up to apartment 2-J with a now depressed Carlos was less than pleasant considering all the moaning and groaning leaving the poor boy’s mouth, but on the way up James had taken off his mask and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist. Cheesily, he presented her with the flowers they’d bought for their little scheme and she happily accepted, pressing a kiss to his cheek and imagining how cute they’d look on her writing desk. 

But, that happiness managed to dissolve the minute Carlos flopped onto the large, orange sectional in the living room, declaring, “I’m never gonna get a girlfriend!” 

While Logan retreated to his room to change, Carlos slammed a fist down onto the cushion, accidentally hitting the TV remote and flipping it on. 

“And do you have a girlfriend?” The news anchor on the screen asked, with what could only be the most inopportune timing. 

“No!” The boy shouted, alarming his friends with his sheer intensity.

James kept his hold on Roxy tight though, immediately perking up to watch the program, while she rearranged a few of the bright flowers in the bouquet. Whoever had picked them up at the store across the street had done a phenomenal job, the bright pastel colors complimented each other very well, and the delicious scent wafting off of them was almost heavenly. 

“Then take her to see the movie Kiss and Tell, which opens tonight!”

“They made Kiss and Tell into a movie?!” Roxy whirled her head around to face the television, now also very invested in what critic Leonard Siskel had to say during his movie corner segment of the news. “That’s one of my favorite books!”

Now, it wasn’t lost on her how James leaned in to hear the program better. 

“It’s the story of a lawyer too busy for love and a down-and-out chef with a recipe for romance. It’s a film so romantic that if you’re not smooching in the aisles, you’re dead… or alone!” 

Siskel’s words sent Carlos into another spiral, spinning around so he was face down on the couch to let out a pained cry. 

Always quick to launch into action at the sight of someone in need, Kendall rushed over to take the remote from his hopeless friend and turn the device off. “If you sit here feeling sorry for yourself, you’re never gonna find a girlfriend!” 

“But I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!” Carlos shot back. “I’m lovable.” 

Taking one of the brightest yellow tulips from the bundle she held, Roxy walked over and handed it to him, rubbing his shoulders gently from behind the couch. “While true, is not the only important thing to look for in a partner.” 

From the breakfast bar, James added, “You’re so right, babe!”

“Which is why,” Kendall rolled his eyes, but bounced off his assistant’s statement, “You have to keep looking! A girlfriend’s not just gonna walk in the door and say, ‘Hey, let’s go on a date tonight!’”

The front door opened as he finished his sentence and Jo gracefully entered the apartment with a gigantic smile on her face and two pieces of paper in hand. “Hey! Let’s go on a date tonight!”

Carlos gawked at her, weakly pointing a finger her way while his jaw went slack. Without interruptions, Kendall’s inspirational speeches usually served her and the band well, but today seemed to be full of horrible timings after horrible timings.  “Okay, bad example!” His friend cut in before Carlos managed to complain again, but the helmet wearer did let out an exasperating scream as Roxy kept rubbing his shoulders. He sure was tense under James’ soft button-up. 

“I printed out two tickets for Kiss and Tell.” The actress shared, striding over to her boyfriend to show him the tickets she’d purchased online. “Pop Tiger gave it five smooches on their make-out meter…”

“Out of ten smooches!” his assistant lied to try and make Carlos feel better. Though, while she thought back to the contents of the book she’d read a few months ago, she felt the back of her neck begin to heat. Is it possible to earn six smooches?

And honestly, she was a bit jealous of Jo and Kendall. They’d blown their relationship wide open to the public eye after an unfortunate run-in with Jett Stetson, a llama, a jar of peanut butter, and a stupid scheme of the teen actor’s to make it appear to the general population as though he and Jo were together. With some quick thinking on her friends’ part, they had been able to thwart Jett’s plan and earn themselves a spot on all the major magazine covers as one of the ”hottest young couples in Hollywood.” 

Jo Taylor and Kendall Knight - A popular actress and a popular singer. Of course, it made sense for them to be together.

But a popular singer and an unknown songwriter… It probably wasn’t a good idea for James and Roxy to be seen making out at a movie like Kiss and Tell in the middle of Los Angeles. Though she loved being with him, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to be talked about in this week’s celebrity news cycle just yet. 

I’ll have to ask James if we can hit a midnight showing in the next town over or something…

“Roxy?” 

Someone calling her name pulled the writer out of her head, and when she turned around from where she stood behind the couch, Katie was standing in the middle of the hallway trying to get the writer’s attention. 

Sending a wave the young girl’s way, Roxy cocked her head to the side, “What’s up?”

Katie shot a glance at the room in front of her, slowly taking note of all the people gathered in their living room. Usually, that wasn’t an issue - the Crib was always hustling and bustling with her big brother, roommates, and their large collection of friends - but something about it seemed to annoy her today. “I heard some scratching in the wall connecting our apartments just now. Have you heard anything lately?”

Just the thought of something crawling around in her walls was enough to send Roxy flying past Katie and into 2-H as quickly as possible. Back in Duluth, she and her father had their fair share of disgusting vermin making home in their insulation over the years. The two of them loved living right on the edge of the forest, but that did cause a whole host of issues with the local wildlife. 

As disgusting as she thought it was, she needed to confirm what Katie had said, tag the approximate location in the walls, and arrange for Buddha Bob to handle it as soon as possible or she wouldn’t be getting a good night's sleep for quite a while. By the time the girl reached her kitchen, mild jitters were setting in as she reached a shaking hand into her mini backpack to grab her phone and call her dad for advice. 

When she pressed her ear to the wall, clutching her phone while trying to isolate any squeaking, clawing, or gnawing, all she caught was the sound of the door connecting her apartment to the boys’ slamming shut. Ouch.

“So… um,” Apparently, it had been Katie, not her boyfriend like she assumed, who followed her into the apartment, slowly dragging her feet as she moved into the kitchen where her friend had her ear practically slammed into the wall. “There’s-”

“Shh!” Roxy hushed her, dragging a finger to her lips, “We need to find the-”

“There’s no critter. I lied,” The girl said, joining the songwriter in the small space. Her tone of voice shifted, something meek and timid, which was completely unlike the conniving, cunning person she was. Both she and Kendall usually flew on the same type of optimism and confidence, proving they could do anything they set their minds to, but the slump of her shoulders and anxious pulling of her hair told the writer Katie was feeling far different than usual.

That scared Roxy more than anything. 

Slowly, she pulled her ear away from the wall as Katie continued. 

“I know you don’t like gross things and I wanted to talk to you alone. So… Sorry.” 

Katie’s gaze locked onto the bright blue card hung up on Roxy’s fridge; James had tacked Mag’s invitation to Brand New Day’s album release party there after pulling it out of her garbage can. 

“That’s twice you’ve done this to me now - You know you can just tell me you want to talk upfront, right?” Roxy asked, slowly leaning onto the wall beside her and realizing that probably wasn’t the first thing she should have said to Katie’s confession. “Just keep that in mind for next time… Is something going on?” 

“Yes… and no. Nothing bad I swear!” Katie held her hands up in the air as if she were proclaiming her innocence. “It’s just embarrassing… Had to work my way up to it… And I didn’t want the guys to worry if I pulled you aside. You know how they are.”

Finally, a small huff of a laugh escaped the writer’s lips. “You’re pretty lucky to have four caring older brothers.” 

At Roxy’s words, Katie’s eyes widened before she quickly crossed her arms and looked down at the floor. “Whatever. That doesn’t matter when you’re looking for some girl-talk… or whatever.” 

“Well, good for you I’m a girl who loves to talk,” Roxy smiled. Taking a step forward toward the kitchen table, she pulled out one of the chairs, plopped down with her chin in her hand, and motioned to the seat across the way. 

Though seemingly reluctant, Katie took a hesitant breath before joining her friend at the table. The small, red watch encircling her wrist ticked and ticked, filling the silent apartment. “Remember what we talked about in Minnesota?”

How could I ever forget? Roxy thought, but nodded all the same. “After your date with Ray? Of course, I do.”

Now knowing this conversation was about dating and relationships, and not anything more serious, the writer felt her shoulders fall. In turn, the girl in front of her looked a bit more relieved. 

“Well… There’s this new guy who just moved in, Kyle, and I’ve seen him at the pool a few times with his comic books and Nintendo DS. Every time I’ve tried to go up and talk to him my palms get really sweaty and my heart races and I end up just running back up to the apartment.” 

At the moment, Roxy was beginning to feel the same of the same symptoms her young friend had been describing - Excited for her and a potential foray into the world of romance. She had to bite the inside of her cheek not to bombard her with a million questions and Katie continued. 

“He’s usually down there at this time and I told myself I’d talk to him today, but I need a confidence boost. Can I borrow some of your makeup?” 

Roxy blinked. “What?” 

Katie Knight, the most confident person Roxy knew, was looking for assurance through cosmetics? That certainly came straight out of left field. 

“Just some of the stuff you put on your cheeks and eyes or maybe even your lips? James is always telling you how pretty you look in all that.”

He better think I’m pretty without it…

After sharing such vulnerable feelings and communicating how hard it was to work her way up to that question, the last thing Roxy wanted to do was make Katie feel uncomfortable or unashamed. She was almost thirteen years old; That was around the time Roxy had started to grow interested in makeup as well, but her father didn’t allow it until she was in high school. Could Mrs. Knight have similar feelings? 

“Katie, I don’t mind sharing at all!” Roxy shared, earnestly, wondering if this overwhelming urge to say yes to anything the girl asked was what it was like to have siblings. “But in exchange is it alright if I ask you something?” 

The young Knight nodded, still playing with the watch around her wrist. 

“Are you just curious about makeup because you think it’s cool or because you think the new guy will like you better if you wear it?” 

Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, Katie considered the question for a few moments. “Dunno… Maybe a little bit of both? Mom says I don’t need any and I think that made me want to try some out more than anything. I don’t like being told what I can and can’t do.” Her chair slowly creaked as she squirmed around before standing up. “Just forget it, it was a stupid question anyway.”

“No, no!” The writer shot up from her seat, “Not at all, Katie. You can always come and ask me anything. I do want to be honest with you, though; If the new guy only likes you because you’re wearing makeup he is so not worth your time... How about we find a balance? A little blush and some lip gloss and you bring your own comics and DS - Would that make you feel more confident?” 

While she did mean every one of her words, Roxy worried that her offer to compromise might make it sound like she agreed with Mrs. Knight on the makeup front… Even if she truly did, there was nothing wrong with a little bit of experimentation here and there. 

“It would,” Katie agreed, finally looking at her friend instead of her bright blue Converse. “But maybe you can take me to the drug store sometime this week and I can get my own? And we don’t tell my mom?” 

“Only if you tell me everything about this mystery boy! Now, let’s go see what we can dig up in my makeup organizer… Are you more of a neutral-tone girl or a sparkles girl?” 

“No idea… But I’m happy to find out together.” 

***

J: Katie told you she had a crush on a boy and all you did was let her borrow some makeup?

The text from James set the alarm tone on Roxy’s phone off, interrupting her as she scribbled out what she could remember of the lyric set she had come up with not long after her friend had left her apartment. With cheeks just a little rosier and lips just a little shiner, the pair had come to the conclusion that Katie was ready to meet the new boy, but she wanted to do it on her own terms. 

If James was texting her about it, Roxy could only assume the last part of their plan had backfired. 

R: Mind your own business!

J: It is my business! Why aren’t you down here helping her talk to him?

R: Because she’s very capable of doing that on her own

J: All she was doing was sitting around watching him through a pair of binoculars. She would have never actually talked to him without my help!

Oh, God. Roxy thought, snapping the book on the comforter below her shut. I need to get him out of there.

Immediately, she switched out of their text chat and called him, feeling her heart rate spike about twice as fast as it should have been. Katie was already having a hard enough time working out her own pre-teen feelings; She certainly didn’t need a Flirting 101 class from James Diamond. 

He picked up on the first ring, “Babe?”

“I just found this new cherry lip gloss-”

“Say less. Be at 2-H in a minute.” 

Before she hung up the phone, thrilled her plan of distraction worked, Roxy could hear the pounding of his footsteps on the pool deck and someone hissing, “What?!” and heavily stuttering whatever else they were trying to say just as the line went dead.

In the minute - give or take - she’d give him to come knocking on her door, she quickly swiped on some of the product she’d found, flicked on her tape player, and reopened her songbook to see if she could recover any of what she was planning to put down. 

On the page in front of her, the red ink practically jumped off the paper, swirling the words around as she tried to make sense of what she’d written. Though she’d been calling the work “Got Something” in her head, it wasn’t as catchy as she’d liked, and aside from a few short lyric ideas, a good deal of heart doodles around them, and a crappy drawing of Jupiter in the corner, her work in progress was just that - in progress. 

A few seconds and a silly I’ve got a big time crush on you! line scribbled out later, James did, in fact, bust down the door to her apartment.

“Songbird?” He called from the entryway, sounding majorly out of breath despite his profound athleticism as his voice cracked on the last syllable of her name.

It was difficult for her to contain the giggle escaping her lips while she felt the back of her neck heat, tossed her songbook over to her desk, and shimmied to the edge of her bed. “In here!” 

 The next few seconds flew by like a flash - James practically sprinting to her room and catching himself on her doorframe, goofily smiling when he found his girlfriend inside. “Hey, beautiful.” 

Now, Roxy couldn’t stop herself from laughing, as cheesy as it was his words always got to her, making her so bashful it bubbled up and boiled over the surface. “Hey, yourself.” 

Blue, blue t-shirt fit snugly across his chest as he leaned forward on the frame, “Cherry…  You’re sure it’s cherry?”

“Yes!” 

In an instant, he was in front of her, hands on her cheeks, gently laying her back on the mattress, as his lips found hers. The taste was just as sweet as they’d hoped. 

For a plan to get him out of spending time with Katie while she figured out her Kyle situation, this was one of the more brilliant schemes Roxy had come up with, she thought, while her hands sunk into James’ soft hair, indulging in the moment they shared. 

Despite his strength and large frame, James was always careful with her, making sure even in the most heated of make-out sessions he never made Roxy caged or uncomfortable. This time was no different, even as one of his hands left her face to brace himself on the black blanket covering her bedspread.

When he’d just about kissed her breathless, James reluctantly pulled away, needing more than a second to refill his lungs. Long hair swept over his eyes while his chest rose and fell, accentuating the tight shirt he’d picked out that morning, and Roxy’s grip on his roots tightened when his tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lips. “You lied to me.”

A jolt shot through Roxy’s heart, “What?” 

“It’s cherry berry, not just cherry.” 

“James!” She practically screamed, ignoring the laughter rolling out of him as she shoved him onto the bed beside her, “Who cares?!”

As his back hit the mattress, she bounced a bit. Bed springs groaning as he rolled onto his side to face her, he shot a wicked grin. “That’s very important information! A guy should know what he’s getting into, you know?” 

“I think you’ll survive,” Teased Roxy, turning to face him as well, resting her cheek on her hand. When they were this close, she could admire the small flecks of green popping out in his hazel eyes and the beautiful curve of his lips. “But for future reference… What’s your preference?”

James scrunched up a cheek in thought, “Hm… I don’t know. Let me check again.” 

Leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to Roxy’s lips, he pulled back before rubbing his own together and pretending he was deep in thought. “Didn’t get enough that time. Again.” The process repeated a few more times before Roxy was pretty sure no gloss was left and he asked her what else she was storing in her makeup organizer. 

Hesitantly, the girl pulled herself away from her boyfriend, already missing the hint of the ‘Cuda spice lime cologne tingling her nose as she made her way to her dresser to find just what he was asking for. The bright red organizer Katie had given her for Christmas had certainly been put to good use, and she pulled open the small drawer on the side she’d designated for her lipsticks and glosses, rattling off what she could find, “Strawberry, Watermelon, Vanilla… Ooh! Cotton candy!”

“That one!” James called from behind her, head propped up on his hand as he watched her, still lying on his side. She caught his sparkling gaze in the vanity mirror, relishing in the softness in his eyes. 

Just as she swiped some of the gloss over her bottom lip, she heard him audibly swallow. “Wanna go to that movie tonight?” 

Roxy paused, jaw half open as she glanced back at him over her shoulder. And she did, desperately, want to go to Kiss and Tell with him, but going out on the town together and being spotted could lead to any type of speculation; Going to the hottest make-out movie of the summer only led to one conclusion.

It's not like they never went out together… But when they did, at least after what happened in Santa Monia, it was usually just hitting a drive-through and then coming back to 2-H to hang out. The last time they’d been alone in public together was back in Minnesota where the skillful eye of the paparazzi would never look to find anyone as quickly up and coming as a member of Big Time Rush.

“Like… in the next town over or something?” Roxy questioned, not sure if James had actually thought the invitation out before extending it to her. While she did adore him, her boyfriend certainly wasn’t known for thinking all of his plans through.

Had she still been focused on fiddling with the small plastic tube in her hands, she might have missed the look of hurt that flashed across her boyfriend’s face.

Shit.

“No,” He said, sitting up, brows furrowed. “I caught Jo on the way out of 2-J and she said there were still seats next to where she, Kendall, Carlos, and his mystery date were sitting. You sounded interested earlier… Just thought it could be fun.”

“It does sound fun!” The assistant jumped in a bit too quickly, thoughts muddling around her head too fast now that she was worried about hurting his feelings. “But don’t you think… I don’t know… Three members of Big Time Rush in the same place and people might start taking pictures or something?” 

“I think I’d be more worried if someone spotted us in the back row of a dark, crowded theater when they’re supposed to be making out with someone else,” James snickered, though not as lighthearted as usual. “Like… total loser alert…”

She’d hurt him and he was trying to play it off, make her more comfortable about potentially going out together with their friends. 

Anxiously, she placed the gloss back in the organizer before walking back over to the edge of her bed. Mattress creaking as she sat down next to James, she reached a hand out toward his cheek, guiding his gaze to hers. 

Even in their own little bubble, she thought dating James was no small feat. Had they been somewhat “normal” teenagers back in Minnesota, navigating the same high school hallways, she doubted he’d give her a second glance. He was the kind of guy she’d hopelessly crush on, Mag and Dani making fun of her as much as they could, who had no idea she’d exist… He was miles out of her league. 

If those were the thoughts she’d tucked deep down, spilled out on the pages of her journal for nobody else to ever see, how could she handle it if anyone else thought the same? 

“You four are getting so famous… You’re not worried about people thinking our relationship is-” Unable to even say the unpleasant words swirling around in her head, Roxy took a breath, a familiar, sharp sting of sadness tingling the back of her nose and eyes. Gently, she swiped her thumb over his cheek. “They don’t know me the way they know you. What if they think I’m just a groupie or-”

“Or what if they like you for the same reasons I do?” James questioned back, hand reaching up to clutch hers. “Because you’re so incredibly talented and you work harder than anyone else in this town and just being in the same room as you makes my days brighter? Or because you’re a total knockout and anyone would be lucky to have even a fraction of your time?”

His exaggerated words flooded her ears, making the anxiety rising in her chest begin to wash away, a laugh bubbling up her throat. It must have made her smile too, at this point so overwhelmed she couldn’t even tell, because James was already mirroring a grin by the time her other hand reached his face and she pulled him into another round of kisses.

Unlike their earlier, heated exchange, these were slow, tender. The light touch of his hand squeezing hers communicating his concern through his fingertips. The arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her into his lap all but screaming his affection. So easy, the way they slid together, as her legs fell to opposite sides of his torso, his large hands skirting the tops of her thighs.

It took a lot of willpower for Roxy to pull away from all that, but somehow she managed, gently resting her forehead against his as her hands wrapped around the back of his neck. 

“You always know how to make me feel better, James,” She murmured into his ear before pressing a line of kisses down his sharp jaw. 

The smile gracing his lips from earlier only grew wider. “I read a lot of best tips and relationship advice articles in Pop Tiger and there’s a reason we tick fifteen boxes on the ‘Twenty Signs That Your S.O. Is Your Soulmate’ quiz.”

Roxy’s chest fluttered with an intensity so great she had to hold him even tighter out of fear she’d start floating away. 

“You read the new edition without me?” was the only stupid thing her brain could manage to come up with in response to such a bold declaration. 

Gaze flitting to the side, James sheepishly shrugged, “Couldn’t help myself. Selena Gomez was on the cover… And Miley Cyrus had this great column-” 

The boy she was holding shuttered beneath her, causing her to place her hands on his shoulders and lean back, brow knitting in confusion.

“You’re trying to distract me!” He accused, poking her in the side. “Kiss and Tell tonight - Yes or no?”

Roxy hoped another kiss would suffice in place of verbal confirmation.

***

  Even after James had left her apartment to purchase the movie tickets, his words were still echoing in his girlfriend’s ears. 

Soulmate.

She was still getting giddy at the term boyfriend. 

Though the more Roxy thought about the s-word and James’ use of it, the more it tugged at her heart. She wouldn’t have even thought to call them that, yet he’d so unabashedly brought it up in the middle of a conversation like it was no big deal. If he was thinking something so definite, so absolute about their relationship, was there something she was missing out on by not thinking the same?

The prospect of that worried her greatly. 

Compared to his multiple relationships before theirs, James was the more experienced of the two, so maybe he was more willing to come to that conclusion because he knew what it felt like to not be someone’s soulmate? In place of the people James had grown emotionally close to, all Roxy had to show for experience was a destroyed friendship and a hit break-up song that almost made the Billboard Hot 100. 

Now, as she grabbed her journal off her desk, she had to figure out if she was more ashamed of her inexperience or her fear of calling him anything more serious than her boyfriend. 

Falling for him had been the easy part, even with the months of waiting for him to ask her out. Once she knew James felt the same way about her, easing into their relationship had been as automatic as breathing. Roxy wore the smile lines, saved the text receipts, and had the romantic songs written in her journal to prove it.

But soulmates… That was something else entirely, something James had said with such conviction that in the moment, Roxy believed him. 

As she stared at the pages of her songbook, anxiously tapping her pen on the paper and her foot on the floor, she turned the word over and over again in her head. One of the biggest foundations of their relationship had been trust, especially after her messy episode with Dak months before, and James hadn’t ever broken that since the day they’d become official. 

She’d trusted him then, so why shouldn’t she trust him now? 

That revelation was just what she was looking for, taking into account her wide range of feelings on the subject, smiling toward the blank sheet as she uncapped her pen and scribbled out a verse. 

Maybe this could be the line,

That starts the whole story,

Maybe you could be the one,

The one who’s meant for me,

I know that I should wait,

But what if you’re my soulmate?

Then you say

Slow down

‘Cause we can

Buzz buzz

“Damnit!” Roxy cursed at the interruption to the posters on her bedroom walls. 

Beside her songbook, the screen of her phone lit up with a text message from Camille to their group chat with Jo.

C: what do you think about steve from class?

As per usual Jo’s reply was immediate.

J: Dunno. Never really talked to him

R: He’s a senior right? 

R: We were paired up for last week's English project. Seems nice.

R: Very into musical theater.

While they’d completed their paper he’d played the Wicked soundtrack about forty times over. Roxy had “Defying Gravity” stuck in her head for days. 

C: going to kiss and tell with him tonight

C: will i see you two there?

J: Kendall, Carlos, Megan, and I will be there

R: Megan?

J: Co-worker of mine Carlos seems into… If he doesn’t pick Kendall’s date over mine…

C: aren’t YOU kendall’s date?

J: God. Don’t remind me.

R: James and I will be there too!

C: i guess all of us are going then lol. logan and the new girl peggy too

R: Yay! Quadruple date!

R: Can’t wait to see you all (and meet peggy…?) 

C: if she isn’t too busy hoovering logan’s face

J: well… hopefully you and steve will be doing the same? 

J: silver linings and all

Making a mental note to speak with Jo about her public relationship status and how she and Kendall handled it, Roxy closed her book with a sigh. She had a strange relationship with public perception, but figured she should do her best - for now at least - to take a page out of her friend's book and not pay attention to the gossip columns or articles written about them. 

It was one thing if people didn’t like her music, that was all about personal taste. If you don’t like boybands, you don’t like their songs, and that was perfectly fine with the writer. But, if people didn’t like her simply because she was seeing someone famous… Well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, at least, she made sure her ScuttleButter account was private while she walked into her kitchen for a light snack before James picked her up for their date. 

Just as she opened her pantry to root around for something small, a soft knock rapped at her door. Passing her fridge and spotting Mag’s blue enveloped invitation tacked on there made her slightly gag, praying it wasn’t him awaiting her on the other side of the wood for the second time this week. 

Sucking in a breath, Roxy slowly opened the door to a young boy she’d never seen before. About half a head shorter than her, his messy dusty brown hair and chocolate brown eyes stood out nicely against the long-sleeved blue and white striped button-up he wore. A mischievous grin brandished his cheeks, showing off two adorable dimples as he looked up at her and politely asked, “Hey, is… Katie here?” 

The smell of Axe Body Spray hung pungently in the air. 

“No… She isn’t, sorry,” Roxy shook her head, hoping that this was the boy Katie had mentioned earlier and not another stranger she’d never met moving into the Palm Woods. With a nod of her head, she jerked her thumb to the right. “She’s next door in 2-J. I was just on my way over there if you wanna join me.”

That was fully a lie, but she figured Katie wouldn’t mind if she was just a bit nosy and interrupted whatever was about to go down in her apartment.

The boy let out a relieved sigh, “Sounds great! I was a bit worried when you opened the door, Katie hadn’t mentioned a sister… I must have misremembered the letter. I’m kinda nervous.”

Joining him out in the hallway, Roxy locked her door and led the boy in the right direction. “Nervous?” 

“Yeah! She and I are going to see that new movie everyone’s been talking about. What’s it called again…?”

Aw! Roxy couldn’t stop herself from thinking while trying to recall an age-appropriate movie that had just hit the theaters. “Um, The Unicorn Princess?”

“No, no,” Kyle shook his head as he stood before the door to 2-J, repeating the same soft knock he had at her apartment. “Kiss and Tell, I think?” 

Stopping right behind him, the writer’s brows shot to her forehead, the only thought running through her mind being, I wonder if the guys know…

She got her answer a moment later when her boyfriend answered the door, hair brushed to the side of his face, with a sharp-looking white button-up, tie, and red sweater greatly contrasting from the t-shirt and jeans he’d been wearing when they hung out earlier. 

Even with his back to her, she could feel worry radiating off Kyle’s little body the minute he laid eyes on James. 

“Kyle, my boy! Come on in,” The singer greeted, deepening his voice an octave and puffing out his chest as he stuck one hand in his pocket. “Have a seat!”

Shooting a wink Roxy’s way, he stepped to the side and allowed the boy into the apartment. 

“Thanks, James,” Kyle said, insinuating a level of familiarity that the writer could only assume came from the hangout she’d pulled her boyfriend away from earlier in the day. Maybe she’d been wrong to do that…

As the two made their way to the living room, Roxy in tow, she snorted as James slung an arm around Kyle’s shoulder and aggressively pulled him into his side, “Ah, please, call me Mr. Diamond.”

Jesus.

Peeking at the open space in front of them, she noticed that in addition to the orange sectional couch, a brown lounger draped in a red, white, and black plaid blanket had also been brought into the space, which she didn’t recognize from any of the boy’s rooms. It was directly facing one of the sections of the couch, which James all but threw Kyle down onto before taking a seat in the new chair. 

In his wake, Roxy bent down and reached out her hand, which Kyle nervously took. “I’m Roxy - Katie’s friend and Mr. Diamond’s girlfriend. Nice to meet you.” 

Sheepish grin returning, Kyle wrung his hands together as she sat down on one of the arms of the recliner. 

“Katie is very special,” James began out of nowhere, one of his hands reaching behind his girlfriend’s back as he pulled a neon blue and orange Nerf gun from the floor behind her and began to inspect it. “She’s like a sister to me. So tell me…”

Roxy cleared her throat in warning, nudging James with her elbow as she shot Kyle the warmest smile she could muster. 

That didn’t work at all; James grabbed a paper towel and began to wipe down his weapon, pointing it right at Kyle’s chest in the process. “What are your intentions?”

“Um…” His actions didn’t sit well with Kyle, who began to shift out of the gun’s range, but James kept his aim trained to his heart wherever he moved. “To take her to a movie?”

It came out more like a question than a confident statement, which was understandable considering he had a weapon pointed directly at him. 

“Oh! How fun!” Roxy tried to cut in, nudging her boyfriend once again to try and knock the barrel out of Kyle’s way. “They’re going to a movie, just like we are, babe.”

“Not to Kiss and Tell you’re not!” He bit, completely ignoring his girlfriend’s words. Tone now clearly sinister, Kyle’s eyes widened in fear as he followed the gun’s aim once more, holding up his hands in innocence. 

It was at this moment, Katie emerged from her bedroom, spotting her friends in the entertainment area, greeting, “Hey, Kyle!” 

Though she was dressed in her typical casual attire, she’d picked out her favorite sage green shirt to wear, just like she told Roxy she was planning to earlier. Once she got closer, and noticed the large weapon in James’ hands, her cheery tone immediately switched to chilling, asking, “What are you doing?” 

Like Kyle, Roxy raised her palms, silently pleading with the girl to not equate her presence as an alliance with James' schemes. 

“Just having a little… Man-to-man-to-woman with Kyle here, huh?” 

As the young boy nodded, too stunned to do much more than that, Roxy did the opposite. After all of the work she’d done with Katie earlier to help her be more comfortable discussing her feelings, she didn’t want this moment to ruin even a fraction of that.

With a sigh, Katie looked between the three, before parading over and grabbing James by the ear. Tearing him out of his seat as he yowled in pain, she took him to the kitchen where the two of them appeared to be having a little chat. 

That left Kyle and Roxy sitting alone in the living room, awkwardly, while the other two conversed. 

“So… How are you liking the Palm Woods?” Roxy asked the boy, and he finally let out some of the tension his body had been holding, shoulders visibly relaxing.

His hands unwound. “My sister Peggy and I just moved in so we’re still getting used to everything, but it’s pretty nice. Very different from Missouri though.”

“You guys are from the Midwest too? We all moved here last year from Minnesota.”

“Oh, cool,” Kyle replied, but his flat tone suggested he really didn’t think it was. “My sister cut a modeling contract with one of the big agencies here so our parents dragged me out here too, but I guess it could be worse.”

Glancing over to Katie and James, the two appeared to be locked in quite a heated battle. “Then I’m sure you and Katie will have lots to talk about. Her brother, James, and two of our other friends are in a band! Maybe she can give you some tips for dealing with a famous sibling…”

Before he had the chance to respond, Katie called, “Kyle, let’s go!” from the kitchen, before making her way toward the door, not even glancing back to see if he was following her. Roxy didn’t blame him for scurrying out of 2-J as fast as humanly possible. 

What she didn’t expect was for James, newly changed into a sleek, tight, black Henley, to be hot on their heels, pulling Roxy out of 2-J and down into the lobby of the Palm Woods. 

As she caught a glimpse of Kyle and Katie headed out the front doors with the woman she assumed was Kyle’s mother, the writer dug her heels into the ground, pulling back on James’ hand clasped in hers. “Woah! James, give them some space! We’ll see them at the theater and you can… do whatever this is,” she waved her hand in his general vicinity, “later.” 

If he wanted to supervise the young ones on their date, that was fine with her, but he needed to agree to her terms. Also, he needed to tell her that outright, instead of nervously glancing at the front door every two seconds while she practically physically held him back from following. 

“How do you feel about Funburger? I know you love a good burger!” He asked, skipping over her words once again as Kyle and Katie faded from view. 

To his credit, Roxy did love a good burger. And though that was likely where Kyle was taking Katie tonight, she agreed anyway, because only one establishment in the greater Los Angeles area could claim to sell the “Funnest burgers in town.” 

“Well… It’s no Bun In A Million but I suppose it will suffice,” She smiled, squeezing his hand in hopes it would calm him down a smidge, but the moment she finished her sentence, he was dragging her out to the Pontiac. 

***

It had taken nearly everything the assistant had in her to convince her boyfriend they needed to sit across the restaurant from Kyle and Katie, instead of right next to them as he had originally planned. 

Roxy and James sat on opposite sides of the small, red leather booth of the 50s-themed diner, listening to the old-timey music pour through the wall box sitting at the edge of the table. Roxy couldn’t remember ever going to a cuter-themed restaurant while she swirled her finger over the speckled white table in front of her, waiting for James to stop staring at Kyle and Katie over his shoulder so they could talk about something. 

Does he intentionally flex his jawline when he concentrates like that?

She figured she could share progress about her new song, or talk a little bit more about her anxiety about potentially being spotted with him out in public, but the singer was more focused on his mission than anything. From the hotel lobby, Roxy had known what she was getting into and generally didn’t mind. If James was more happy keeping an eye on Katie to make sure she was safe, that was important to her too. 

The preteens appeared to be having a good time; Both wore awkward yet sincere smiles, intensely discussing what Roxy assumed was either the Castle Bashers video game or their favorite comic book series. Maybe something new they’d discovered they both enjoyed on the car ride over. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Katie glance over to where the two of them sat, James fully flinching as if he wasn’t expecting to be caught and wagged her finger from side to side. A clear warning, screaming, “No!”

In the aisle, a white-clad waiter cleared their throat and set down the large milkshake Roxy had ordered, because what trip to a diner was complete without one? Milk chocolate, whipped cream, and rainbow sprinkles were calling her name, and she placed two bright red straws inside; One facing her way and one facing James. 

“Babe,” She tried, but he was still looking over his shoulder. Though his protectiveness did appeal to her greatly, Roxy was having trouble staying calm while he pretty much flat-out ignored her. Lowering her tone, she accidentally barked out, “James,” a lot meaner than she’d meant to. 

Like he was snapping out of a trance, James shook his head and finally looked her way, seeing the drink she pushed his way. Award-winning smile returning from the scowl he’d been sporting the last fifteen minutes, the boy reached out for the shake and took a long, slow sip. 

Roxy had to grip the leather as she watched, stomach turning while deciding she forgave him for anything that had happened in their date up until this point. 

“There’s two straws,” The writer joked, waggling her brows a few times before her boyfriend took the hint, eyes widening as he hastily pushed it back to the center of the table. 

Leaning forward, he murmured, “Very romantic…” 

Following his lead, Roxy did the same, excited to try one of the most delicious-looking shakes she’d ever seen, before James flinched again and whisper-screamed, “Too romantic!” Before she knew it, his hands were flying toward her face - no, toward the drink - as he tore out both of the straws, splattering her face with some of the freezing cold concoction as he practically ripped it from the table in front of her. Without disturbing the other patrons, somehow, James made it to the table he’d been keeping an eye on and set the milkshake down on the counter, claiming that their waiter had forgotten a part of their meal. 

Two milkshakes for Kyle and Katie, zero milkshakes for Roxy. Maybe I was too quick to forgive him.

When James made his way back to the table, a proud look gracing his features, he effortlessly slid into the booth. Dramatically dusting off his hands as though he’d just saved the day, he was startled when Roxy slid beside him, trapping him into the small space. 

“Could you pass me a napkin, please?” She asked him, doing her best to remain sweet, gesturing to the napkin holder tucked into the wall behind him. For added effect, she leaned into him, hoping the chocolate and cream specks on her face were fully visible. 

To her surprise, her boyfriend actually pulled away from her, because she had temporarily blocked his view of Kyle and Katie. “Yeah, yeah, sure.”

It was only when he handed them over to her did he glanced her way, taking note of her soiled features. For the first time that night, Roxy could feel the intensity of his gaze, softening slightly as he breathed, “Shit. Did I do that?”

Bringing the paper to her face, Roxy slowly nodded as she worked to clean herself up. His quiet apology could barely be heard over the loud music of the diner, the chatter of its patrons, and his girlfriend asking, “How old were you when you went on your first date?” 

James blinked. “You’re not supposed to talk about old dates while on a date. It’s bad luck or something.”

“Humor me,” She requested, one hand falling to the rough fabric of his dark jeans. Everyone had awkward date stories, right? So if James aired his out, he might feel more comfortable in backing off on Katie. “I want to know everything.”

“O-okay,” Though he stuttered, he obliged, eyes still darting over to the other table despite the drumming of Roxy’s fingertips on his solid thigh. “I was twelve - If you don’t count playground dates in elementary school - and a girl from my bio class, Yasmine, and I went to see a hockey game. She said she was a fan so I got my mom to buy us tickets, but when we got here she didn’t know a thing about the game; Said she had seen me in a Kings jersey and thought it was the easiest way to hang out with me, which struck me as strange because I think I’m pretty easy to talk to. It was fun but awkward overall. She liked me way more than I liked her.” 

“So even James Diamond has embarrassing first dates?” 

“No! Never! I was a perfect, charming, gorgeous, perfect gentleman. It just didn’t work between us is all,” was his defense, said with such conviction that Roxy didn’t believe he understood what she was trying to get at with this particular line of questioning. Before she could dig deeper, however, he asked her the same question. “What about you?” 

If they hadn’t been so close it would have been difficult for her to hear the slight break in his voice.

“I was fourteen, so you’ve got a few years on me,” Roxy shared with a chuckle, deeming it only fair since James had offered up his story so easily. “One of the part-time cashiers at the music store asked me out. Turns out we both went to Twin Pines High and Keaton was just a year older than me. We went for a nice picnic in the park. My dad was so nervous about me dating that he sat on our front porch the whole evening waiting for me to come home. Made it super awkward when he could see Keaton kiss me under the street lamp before he walked me to the door. Freaked him out so bad he didn’t call me that night. Or ever again.” 

There was no way James didn’t get the memo from that little story; She’d captured his attention long enough that he hadn’t glanced over his shoulder in a few minutes, so Roxy felt comfortable enough to give his leg a squeeze and move back over to her side of the booth. As she did, her boyfriend blew a raspberry, “Pft! Scared of your dad… How silly…”

“Would you get me a new milkshake, baby?” She asked, bypassing his statement entirely by reaching out one hand and grasping his, while the other hit a button on the wall box she’d been eyeing since they sat down. 

James nodded, finally turning his full attention to his girlfriend as the romantic tune began to flow through the speaker, setting the mood for their date night. 

Forget about Katie, forget about Kyle, it’s just me and James…

… Until James abruptly pulled his hand out of hers, practically launching himself over the back of their booth, and made a bee-line for the young couple’s table. 

Discretion was his enemy for the time being, as he leaned over the table the two of them shared, slapping the wall box over and over again as he yelled something or other about a mute button for the amorous tune before he gave up entirely. Gripping the machine on both sides, James ripped it from the wall entirely, sparks flying in the direction of Kyle and Katie in a way that made Roxy wince in fear. 

Standing now with the destroyed box in his hands, James let out a pained laugh as he held the aging device, “There… Heh… That’s better.” 

“No! It’s not!” Katie screamed back, index finger circling her temples while she stood, squaring up to the boy with at least a foot and a half on her. With flared nostrils, she shoved him in the chest and the boy was easily pushed to the side, as she stood in front of Kyle, hand out, declaring, “Come on, we can get a hot dog at the movie.”

Slapping a few bills down on the table for the food they didn’t even get to enjoy, Katie took Kyle’s hand and stomped toward the door. Eagerly, Kyle stood up to follow, beating her to the door to open it up in a way that made Roxy’s heart melt faster than the forgotten shakes on their table. 

Just as she went to slide out of the booth to console her boyfriend, a waiter cut the girl off as he delivered their burgers to the table. Meanwhile, Roxy heard a clattering from the other side of the restaurant, which was presumably James putting the speaker down on the table, and a moment later the waiter disappeared, and he sat in front of her again, adorable pout causing him to stick out his bottom lip. 

“Look, the food’s here,” She tried, weakly waving her hand over the delectable-smelling burgers. Even though James ordered onions on his, she had it in her heart to forgive him after trying so hard to look after the girl he considered a little sister, only to be burned so badly. 

James reached for her hand and Roxy thought that to be a good sign, before he glanced back toward the door and shared, “The food here is terrible! Let’s just get a hot dog at the movies!” 

***

It was against the Somerset family code to leave a good burger uneaten, a code Roxy had never broken in her seventeen years of life. Until tonight. Now standing alone in the lobby of the movie theater, alone, she was thinking about how juicy the patty had looked, piled high with all of her favorite toppings. 

Despite promising to purchase tickets earlier in the day, apparently James hadn’t once he caught wind of Katie’s date, so he was off at the front counter to see if there were any more seats open to the same showing of Kiss and Tell all their friends were attending. 

Not that it matters… We can see it in a different theater. She told herself, slowly taking a deep breath in through her nose and holding it for a few seconds before letting it go out of her mouth. James is just distracted is all. He’s worried; You getting on him for it won’t make him feel better. 

Repeating that last line a few more times in her head was beginning to help her ignore the hunger pangs radiating off her growling stomach. At the very least, seeing other teens walk by with their small bags of popcorn - that took two full arms to carry - made her feel better about the snack outcome of the evening. While she still mourned the burger, salty, buttery popcorn and a large soda certainly wouldn’t make her feel any worse. 

While James reached the front of the line, Roxy scanned the theater, recognizing it was crawling with all of her friends. Not a shock, but still interesting to watch. Perhaps these next few minutes would be just as entertaining as Kiss and Tell, minus the making out of course, as she recalled all the situations they’d also found themselves in. 

Like Camille had mentioned over text, she was sat at one of the small tables on the opposite side of the theater, and Roxy caught a glimpse of the back of Steve’s head in one of the many refreshments lines. Though they were there together, it wasn’t lost on the assistant that she was dressed in one of Logan’s favorite outfits. The royal blue dress she had on, paired with a dark set of leggings complimented her features perfectly; She looked like an absolute dream. The only problem was, she was staring at Logan, also in one of the refreshment lines. 

Both of them had thought it was time to move on and see other people and were certainly making strides to, but it was clear, even from a distance how that was affecting Camille. And Logan too, because when Camille pulled her phone out of her small clutch bag to check something, his gaze flickered her way as well. 

On instinct, Roxy’s feet began to move in the direction of her forlorn friend, even if the two of them were on dates, and she nearly collided with a beautiful blonde girl around her age carrying a personal popcorn tray. 

“Sorry!” The young woman squeaked, straight blonde hair passing just below her shoulders. Nervously, she brought a finger to the bridge of her thick, black glasses to push them back up. 

With a small wave of her hand, Roxy brushed it off, “I wasn’t looking; It was my bad.” 

Both exchanging polite smiles, she let the girl go on her way to the line, jaw nearly dropping when she linked up with, of all the people in the crowded building, Logan.

Nice to meet you, Peggy!

By the time Roxy had shaken that awkward encounter out of her head and planned to make her way over to Camille, she and Steve were already headed toward the theater to find their seats for the show. 

Raised voices on the opposite side of the room alerted her to the presence of Jo, Kendall, and Carlos. The helmet wearer was sandwiched between the couple, who were fighting beside him like two kids in the back of the car on a long road trip, going back and forth at each other. 

What that was all about, Roxy was certainly curious, but would wait for Jo to give her the scoop about later. Though she was elated that Kendall and Jo got along so well, they fought just as hard as they loved. All of their friends knew better than to get between the two of them when they were angry with each other, lest they get pulled into the drama as well. 

Katie and Kyle had gotten lost in the arcade portion of the theater, which left Roxy still standing all by herself and James comfortable enough to take his eyes off of them while he got their tickets. 

After a few minutes of absent-minded scrolling on her phone, James found her again, physical tickets in hand.

“There you are!” The girl joked, light-hearted words hopefully masking a newfound sense of anxiety blooming in her chest now that the two were standing next to each other in public. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed all four members of Big Time Rush standing in the theater lobby, but only time would tell. “I’m so excited to see this movie, I think you’ll love the chef’s character - He’s a lot like you! So romantic!”

“Not as romantic as… The Unicorn Princess!” He held up both of his hands, with an ear-to-ear grin, two ticket stubs in each. “Which I just got four tickets to, much more appropriate for the kids!” 

Be it the rapid beating of her heart in her chest from her nerves or some leftover annoyance she hadn’t gotten a proper dinner, his girlfriend swallowed, setting her jaw. “Katie wanted to see Kiss and Tell too, James. Didn’t we agree earlier that’s what we were going to see?”

“We did, but the plans changed! We can’t take them in there with us… She only wanted to see it because you do! She looks up to you, you know,” The boy shared as if that would make this situation any better. 

“She looks up to you too, babe! That’s why I’ve been trying to get you to tone down the protectiveness all night… I know you two share something really special and I don’t want to see that spoiled because you’re trying to scare Kyle! Why do you think I brought up the story about my dad?” 

Glittering hazel eyes widening, James put his hands down, shuffling through the four pieces of paper in his hands. “You told me all that to get me to stop? I thought it was encouragement! Like ‘everyone has awkward dates, so they won’t think it’s weird if you’re overprotective’ or something.”

Roxy was barely able to contain the snort that left her nose, palm flying to the bottom of her face. “You’re joking! My sob story had the complete opposite effect?” James nodded and his girlfriend continued, “God, hanging out with Kendall has made me think I’m just as good at speeches as he is, apparently… I can’t believe that didn’t work at all…”

“All it made me grateful for was the Keaton guy never calling you back,” James admitted, slinging an arm around her shoulder to pull Roxy closer into him. “Because he would never, ever take you to see The Unicorn Princess, songbird. I even splurged for 3-D.” 

Her playful punch landed right into the solid muscle of his bicep, “Fine. Just promise you’ll take me to Kiss and Tell before it leaves the theaters?” 

A kiss to her temple worked in perfect place of that vow, just as Katie came running up to the couple from the arcade. 

“Hey! We’re gonna pass on Kiss and Tell. Did you know that movie’s full of people kissing? I should’ve guessed since you two wanted to go so bad…”

Carrying a small bag of popcorn and a large soda with two straws in the other, Kyle shuddered at his date’s side. “We’re just gonna hang out in the arcade and go home with my sister later.”

As Roxy opened her mouth to protest and let them know about the new show they were planning on going to, James practically melted into the floor, two tickets dropping out of his hand as he moaned, “Oh, thank goodness…”

At the same time, the line for one of the racing games Kyle wanted to play let up, and he happily bounded over to secure two spots for himself and Katie. 

The pair expected her to follow, but instead, her eyes narrowed, giving James and Roxy identical chills shooting down their spines. Now that Kyle was out of earshot, it was the perfect time for Katie to rip them a new one. 

“You know, you were really annoying today with all that overprotective stuff!”

What the hell did I do? Roxy thought to herself, but let the young girl continue to vent. She supposed being around him the entire time was enough to count her as an accessory.

With a defeated sigh, James' grip on Roxy tightened as he looked to the floor, “Yeah, I know. Rox tried to warn me but I-”

His apology was cut off as Katie took a few steps forward, unexpectedly throwing her arms around the both of them. With as much strength as her little body could muster, which was quite a lot actually, she squeezed as tightly as she could, breathing out a small, “Thanks. Both of you, for everything today.” 

Looking towards each other, James and Roxy felt their brows shoot to their hairlines. Certainly, not the reaction they’d been expecting from her, but they appreciated it nonetheless, familiar signs of embarrassment creeping up to their cheeks and ears as they hugged her back. 

As she let them go, turning to head back over to where Kyle was, Katie shot them a small wave before heading off to enjoy the rest of her date. Pride swelled in the writer’s chest as she watched the two of them for a moment, excited to write down this new development in her journal later, and she nudged her date with her shoulder. “Looks like I stand corrected. Feel free to go cuckoo on her next date too!” 

Rich laughter poured into her ears like honey as James reacted to her statement. 

“Think they’ll let you trade those in for a pair to Kiss and Tell? We’ll have missed some of the previews but if we hurry we might make the start of the film.” Roxy flicked the tickets in her boyfriend’s hand, beginning to walk over to the box office before noticing Kendall, Carlos, and Logan standing beside each other in the middle of the room. 

The three looked haggard, just completely dejected, hugging a tub of licorice and two large sodas to their chests respectively. 

“Uh, oh,” She heard James mutter, glancing up to find him looking in the same direction. “Their dates left; They messed up. I can feel it.” Free hand leaving Roxy’s side to pinch the bridge of his nose, the boy let out a sigh. “So I doubt they’ll want to see Kiss and Tell anymore. Is it cool if I go buy an extra ticket to The Unicorn Princess? It’s starting in a few and it’ll be too late to refund the other four…”

“Don’t worry about it, baby… Seems like a little bit of guy time is in order and I certainly wouldn’t want to intrude. Besides, my first date story kind of has me missing my dad. I wouldn’t mind sitting out here and calling him, honestly. It’s been a while since we last talked. Link up when the movie’s done?”

“Are you sure? I already made you skip dinner, I wouldn’t want to make you skip the movie too,” He told her, fanning himself with the four tickets in his hand. 

When Roxy nodded, he bent down to give her a quick kiss, tasting the cotton candy lip gloss she’d been intending to save as a surprise for their make-out session. “Next night we’re free I promise we’ll be back here to see Kiss and Tell!” 

“And we’re going back to Funburger for a proper meal!” Roxy called after him with a smile.

So what if the date’s a bust? She asked herself, as the boys reconnected and wandered off in search of the only theater playing The Unicorn Princess in 3-D. At least I got to see one of my favorite sides of James…

***

With most of the movies for the evening starting around the same time, the concession lines grew short enough for Roxy to sneak in and buy a large Peppy Cola before taking a seat at the same table Camille had been sitting at earlier. Sugary sips and bubbles popping on her tongue gave the girl a wonderful pick me up after the last few hours, and she pulled out her cell phone to place a call back home. 

It was there, that she saw a few texts from Jo and Camille, vaguely referring to two separate yet disastrous evenings, begging for a sleepover debrief in the next few days. Just as she was about to shoot off a “Free tomorrow night?” message to her friends, her screen was overtaken by a call notification. 

Normally, at this time of night, she’d decline it. No need to talk to anyone this late unless it was an emergency, but the name at the top caught her eye, twisting her stomach.

Incoming call: Gustavo Rocque

Gustavo never called her unless it was urgent.

With a shaking finger, she pressed accept, bringing the speaker to her ear. “Hello?”“What the hell is a Brand New Day and why did they just book Big Time Rush to appear at their album release party tomorrow night?”

[hongcherry]

Hi! I'm doing good, thank you for asking and for answering my question :D. I REALLY love your writing and I want to request a roommate!JungKook x roommate!reader enemies to lovers fic, when it's raining a lot, so the power goes out and the reader is scared of the dark, please. I hope you're having a good day/night, don't forget to take care of yourself ♡

Your Light || jjk

"Being stuck in the dark with your annoying roommate was not ideal, however, maybe it wasn't so bad in the end."

💡 Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

💡 Rating/Genres: NC-17; Fluff, roommate au, enemies to lovers

💡 Warnings: Cursing, mc hates children (joking...), bantering, mentions of stereotypes of older people/grandmas, that's it?

💡 Word Count: 2.3k

💡 Author’s Note: Anon, I'm so touched that you like my writing so much! That's such a big and sweet compliment. I'll cherish it forever! Tbh, I've been feeling a lil insecure about it, so this really made me feel better. This prompt was also really adorable! I hope you enjoy it. I'm glad you're doing good 💖

part two

bts masterlist | main masterlist

What’s more annoying than telling your roommate to stop yelling at his screen at three in the morning?

Having to tell him for the fourth time.

If you knew Jungkook was an avid video gamer, you would never have agreed to room with him. But alas, his profile was too perfect to be true. A quiet guy who stayed holed up in his room? One that knew how to cook? Someone that could lift your heavy move-in boxes? Truly a winner.

If only that was the whole case.

Jungkook indeed stayed in his room, could cook, and could lift heavy items.

But he also made loud noises in the middle of the night, cooked at the weirdest times so you couldn’t leech off his food, and made you pay him anytime he helped you move items.

What a menace.

“If you don’t turn off that stupid screen at ten, I’m going to cut up all your cords,” you threatened, towel and spare clothes in your arms as you peeped your head in Jungkook’s room.

You were preparing to go to sleep early due to having stayed up late last night because of his stupid shooting game. It was also raining outside, which would aid in you falling asleep faster since you found the rain peaceful.

Jungkook didn’t reply and simply kept his focus on his screen. He wore a headset, fingers flying across the keyboard. Irritated at his lack of response, you stomped over to him and yanked off his headset.

To your utter annoyance, that didn’t even phase him.

“Jeon Jungkook, are you even listening?” you hissed.

Laughter came from somewhere in the room, but you two were the only one's home. It was not until you heard another voice that you knew where the sound was coming from.

“Is that your mom?” the voice laughed. “Tell her to go back to knitting a sweater for her cat.”

A gasp left your lips at the implication you were some old, wrinkly lady. You raised the headset to your face. You didn’t put it on, but you put your mouth near the microphone, so his “friends” could hear.

“How about you go eat your supper and go to bed, little vermin,” you angrily replied. “And I’ll have you know cats dressed in sweaters are cute!”

More laughter emitted from the headset.

“Supper?” another voice echoed. “I don’t think that’s his mom—more like his grandma.”

“Why you tiny piece of-”

“Give me the headset,” Jungkook finally acknowledged you. Not wanting to hear any more of the pests known as kids, you thrust the equipment in his open hand. You noticed his character had died and was waiting to respawn.

Jungkook slipped the headset back on and continued his game. “Relax guys. She’s just my roommate.”

Even though the device wasn’t near your ears, you could still hear their replies.

“Your grandma is your roommate?”

“She’s so uptight!”

“Seriously, tell her to calm down.”

Your hands clutched your belongings tighter. You told yourself to walk away—fighting with them was no use; however, you couldn’t stop yourself when you leaned down near Jungkook’s face to get near the mic once more.

“I hope your parents make you eat a pound of vegetables.”

“Go away,” Jungkook huffed and gave you a gentle shove.

“Tell me you’ll turn that off at ten.”

“Eleven,” he bargained, eyes glancing at you when his character died again. You must really be distracting him for him to have died twice within five minutes. Good. You hoped his ranking plummeted.

“Ten-thirty,” you said. “That or I grab my scissors.”

“Fine. Ten-thirty. Now leave before I get my own scissors.”

You scoffed, hand on your hip. “And do what with them? Make paper snowflakes?”

Jungkook smirked at you before turning back to his game. “Don’t think I don’t know where you hide that stupid stuffed chipmunk of yours.”

Your jaw dropped slightly as you stared at him incredulously.

“Ten-thirty,” you repeated firmly before walking out of his room and shutting the door. The walls weren’t thick, but at least it kept some noise out.

You started making your way to your bathroom; however, you couldn’t get rid of the paranoia that Jungkook really knew where Mr. BonBon was. You made a quick detour to relocate your favorite plushie. You had won it at an arcade on your thirtieth try. It held sentimental (monetary) value.

Once you were done, you trekked to your bathroom. Finally, you could end your day with a relaxing steamy shower. No doubt your shoulders were sore from all the stress you’ve endured lately. From tests to 3 a.m. hollering, you couldn’t wait to have some time to decompress.

The feel of the hot water pouring down on your body had your eyes closed momentarily. You could probably stay there for half an hour, but your goal tonight was to go to sleep early. You kept that in mind as you went through your shower routine. You were just rinsing the soap from your body when the lights suddenly went out.

Startled by the unexpected darkness, you fumbled to turn off the water. It must be Jungkook pranking you.

You hastily grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your body, so he couldn’t get a free show.

“Turn the lights back on, Jungkook!” you exclaimed.

When you didn’t get an answer, your brain started conjuring up fantasies. And not the ones where you find a charming partner and run off into the sunset. No, these thoughts consisted of a three-headed beast clawing its way from your drain, or a long-haired lady crawling from your mirror. While living with Jungkook was a pain in your rear, you much rather live with him for eternity than be captured by one of your “mind monsters.”

The haunting thoughts had you hastily scurrying from the shower, hair still dripping water and making a mess of your tiles. That was the least of your worries as an imaginary hand was reaching from the mirror that you passed on your way out of the bathroom.

You took two steps into your bedroom only to scream when you saw a dark figure standing a few feet from you. Your hand reached to your side to grab whatever was closest while the other clutched the towel around you. When you finally grabbed onto something, you flung it as hard as you could at the mysterious person.

They grunted, stumbling back a little and cursing under their breath.

“Calm down, it’s just me,” Jungkook grunted.

Your heart was still racing, but at least your shoulders eased.

“I could’ve killed you!” you screeched.

“I’d like to see you try,” he huffed. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you just knew that little shit was rolling his eyes.

As you were calming down, a loud thunder cracked outside. It had you jumping and shuffling closer to Jungkook unknowingly. That must be the reason for the power outage.

“I’m going to try to find a flashlight,” Jungkook spoke.

“What about your phone?” you wondered.

“Misplaced it, but I rather not use it right now anyway if I can’t charge it,” he said. He started to move, but you quickly stumbled closer so you could grab his wrist.

“Wait!” you exclaimed.

Jungkook paused in his steps to look at you. “What?”

“I- I can help you find it.”

The quiver in your voice grabbed Jungkook’s attention and he finally put some effort into reading your body language.

You were tensed, hand still holding onto him and your towel tightly. You were also strangely too close.

“You’re scared of the dark,” he stated, a small chuckle sounding at this realization.

“No! I’m j-just trying to help.”

Maybe you were scared. You hated the way your paranoia skyrocketed when you couldn’t see. There was something too eerie about having one of your five senses taken away from you.

“Are you crying?” he questioned, and you felt his hand brush against yours that held him.

“What? No. Why would you-”

“Something wet landed on me. Please don’t tell me that was your snot or something,” he replied, voice full of dread.

Your hair was still wet and probably leaving your floor slippery.

“I just came from the shower! It’s just water,” you groaned and slowly let go of his arm.

“O-oh.” He sounded startled.

Your eyes slowly began to adjust to the darkness as some of the moonlight crept in from the window through your curtain.

“Let me change, but don’t-” you sighed at how much you needed him. “-don’t leave me.”

You expected Jungkook to make a witty reply, but he simply nodded, an action you could faintly see.

“Only if you let me sit on your bed,” he bargained. Each time he would climb on your bed, you would always shoo him away—claiming he was spreading his germs all over your clean sheets.

“Fine,” you said. You stuck out your arms as you felt your way to your closet. You could see the outline of some closer objects, but you still felt uncomfortable not seeing far away.

“Ah, fuck,” Jungkook cursed before you heard thudding.

“What happened?” you asked quickly, heart beginning to race as your mind pictured Jungkook getting snatched by the monster under your bed.

“Nothing,” he groaned. “When did you put a bench by your bed?”

Your body relaxed again. He must have tripped over it and fallen. “A day ago.”

Once you found your closest, you quickly changed to whatever your hands touched. You had clothes in the bathroom, but there was no way you were risking getting grabbed by another monster in there.

“Done,” you announced and reached out again. Jungkook met you halfway, taking your hand in his. It was your first time holding his hand, and you didn’t like the way your body warmed at his touch.

“Just going to go to my room; I have a flashlight there,” he instructed. His voice didn’t hold the playfulness or irritation it usually did. It was softer. It was odd to hear, but not unpleasant.

You followed him slowly down the hall to his room, the path familiar to you but still making you anxious.

“Wait here and I’ll get it,” he instructed and started to pull away. However, the moment he took a step forward, you clutched him again.

“S-sorry,” you said quickly when he was tugged back. Jungkook paused, staring down at you with eyes you couldn’t read.

Taking in a steady breath, he repositioned your hands onto his hoodie.

“It’s okay. Hold on,” he said and moved. You continued to hold onto his clothes while he shuffled around in his closet.

“Aha!”

Suddenly light flooded the room. Jungkook’s gaze drifted from the flashlight to you. With the light, your worrisome expression could be seen clearly. Not to mention, just how close you were to Jungkook.

“You okay?” he asked.

His voice had you moving away quickly, your body heating from embarrassment.

“Just fine,” you answered. “How long do you think the electricity will be out?”

Jungkook shrugged. “It depends I guess. For now, we can use this so our phones can save power.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Nice outfit,” Jungkook mumbled, voice teasing like you were used to. It somehow made you feel better.

You glanced down, only now taking in your mismatched attire.

“You try getting dressed in the dark,” you grumbled. He smiled and glanced around.

“You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said, gesturing.

You wanted to reject his invitation—make some sort of excuse to sleep in your own room; however, you knew you wouldn’t be okay sleeping alone. Before you could make your decision, Jungkook started to pull out an extra pillow and blanket from his closet. He tossed them onto the floor and then set the flashlight on the nightstand, light shining up at the ceiling. It had cast enough light to make you feel safer.

“If you don’t get in that bed, I’m going to keep playing until four,” he threatened light heartily when he saw you standing still.

“You already do that,” you argued but relented to his request.

“And I’ll continue doing that if you don’t-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you dismissed as you climbed into his bed. “I’m in.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile. “Good.”

A part of you wanted to offer to share his bed, however, you decided against it since you two weren’t that close. One night on the floor won’t hurt him anyway.

“Goodnight, Yn,” he mumbled from below.

You nestled in his covers, taking in the calming scent of them and letting your eyes close. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

Luckily, the electricity was only out for a few hours. It came back on in the middle of the night. You had started to leave Jungkook’s room, but he insisted you stay in case the power went out again. Not liking that possibility, you agreed. It wasn’t that bad being with Jungkook anyway.

Later that week, you came home to a box on your bed. You didn’t order anything lately, so you weren’t sure what it was. However, upon closer inspection, you saw your name on it. Inside was a chipmunk-shaped night light. You’ve seen these in stores and online, usually advertised to children, but that didn’t matter. It was battery-operated, which meant even if the power went out, you could still use the device.

Your lips lifted in a smile while you inspected the cute light. You set it on your nightstand and then returned your attention to the box. You still weren’t sure who had gifted you this. Though, sure enough, you found a card laying at the bottom of the box, face down. Turning it over, it read:

In case I’m not here next time. JK

Your eyes lingered on the hand-written note. Partly in denial that Jungkook, your annoying, disobeying roommate, had gotten you something so considerate. Nevertheless, your view of him was slowly changing—for the better.

You checked your clock and realized Jungkook would be home from his class soon. As a thank you, you started to cook dinner. It wasn’t going to be the most elaborate meal he's had since he was the better chief, but you hoped it would convey the gratitude you had for his thoughtful present.

Maybe living with Jungkook wasn’t that bad after all.

A/N: Thank you again, anon! 🥰

Also if any of you knit sweaters for cats, you're a rockstar. Don't let anyone tell you differently 👿

For my "shy/silent" readers, I've created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

©️mimikookie // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[cocrante]

Walking the Wire

[SOLANGELO FANFIC]

warning: it contains significant spoilers, please do not read it unless you have read the third book of "The Trials of Apollo". If you decide to proceed, I will not be held responsible.

summary: The dreams at Camp Half-Blood have vanished. Gentle nights embrace the campers in their hours of sleep, but just as the dreams have disappeared, so have the prophecies. For a mortal, this might not mean anything—nightmares suddenly gone, sweet nights wrapped them in the warmth of the sheets—but for a demigod, dreams are the bridge that connects them between the mortal and immortal worlds, an annoying bell that keeps them constantly on alert, and without those to disturb their nights, it was like losing their compass. But not everyone is without dreams, if "dream" this can be called, one is still allowed to travel in the dream world, perhaps out of pity and compassion of the Fates.

note: the chapters will be updated every Wednesday. If you want to read upcoming chapters of the fanfiction in advance, I invite you to follow me on Patreon. Subscribing is not necessary, these chapters will be added for free on the platform on Saturday. Following me there is just a kind and free gesture to support my work c:

Reblogs are highly appreciated c:

[CHAPTER 2]

Darkness.

NICO WAS ENVELOPED BY DARKNESS. A dense blackness surrounded him. He couldn't see himself, couldn't see his own steps. A hoarse, warm, ageless voice drew him in. It didn't matter where he was, a part of him knew it. He just had to follow that voice. He couldn't tell how long he had been walking, probably not long. That voice kept whispering in his ear, an invisible hand caressed his arm, leading him towards the source of the voice. He still couldn't see anything; everything was still dark ahead of him.

He remembered that darkness had always frightened him as a child. He also remembered it had always been a constant presence in his life, wherever he went, darkness stayed with him. Bianca helped him overcome that fear, telling him fascinating stories, playing games with him that he could only play in the dark. Bianca had brought light to the darkness, but after her disappearance, that darkness had returned to what it used to be, though it no longer scared him. The shadows, the darkness itself—they were his subjects now. They bowed before him; darkness was his friend. But this was different. He sensed it even without seeing it; it was stronger, more menacing. It was a darkness he had encountered before, and knowing it, he couldn't afford hesitation.

He continued to walk, knowing that if things went wrong, he only needed to wake up, but the problem was whether he could. The invisible hand made him stop. He froze in place, convinced that something terrible was about to happen. Then a light turned on, revealing three old ladies knitting a giant scarf that shone as if it were made of golden light. His blood ran cold; he knew who was in front of him. One of the old ladies raised a pair of old rusty scissors, bringing them closer to the thread to finish the scarf, to end someone's life. She was close to cutting that thread when Nico woke up.

The boy was drenched in sweat, panting, clutching his shirt. Could he have dreamed it for real?

He forced himself to calm down, taking deep breaths to regulate his breathing. He knew he wouldn't sleep anymore that night.

The next morning, he noticed he had deep bags under his eyes. For weeks, they hadn't been this prominent since Will had come into his life, and he could sleep more easily at night, knowing that Will would be there waiting for him in the morning. But now it seemed like the old Nico had returned, with a gloomy look, eyes searching for something or someone that was no longer in this world.

He splashed his face multiple times, trying to erase that look from his face, trying to rid himself of his father's shadow reflected in his face. He sighed. Unfortunately, without success, he had to go out exactly as he had woken up, sure that he would have to give some explanation to Will for his gloomy look. There weren't many demigods at the camp's mess hall yet, thankfully no one paid him any attention. He sat down with his tray at his table, absentmindedly staring at the scar left the night he disappeared from the camp. Many things had changed in his life since that day, yet he felt like something from his past was about to return. He hoped he was wrong, hoped that the dream from last night meant nothing, even though a part of him knew he couldn't ignore that dream, especially if they had called him...

"Good morning, sunshine!" exclaimed Will, sitting in front of him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Good morning" he managed to smile unexpectedly, despite his concerns.

Will's smile faded as he noticed Nico's tired eyes. For weeks, he had looked more or less rested, considering that sleeping at night wasn't exactly in his genes, but those spectral eyes put him on alert.

"You didn't sleep last night, did you?" he asked seriously; worry was part of him, Nico knew that.

"I did" he replied. "For a while" he added, taking a bite of his bread.

Will tried to accept that answer, not pressing too much with questions. He knew that forcing him to talk was useless; if he wanted to, he would do it on his own.

"You'd tell me if there was something bothering you, right?" he reached out, letting the other brush his palm with his fingers.

"You'll be the first demigod" he joked. When he was alone with Will, it came naturally to him.

After a hearty breakfast, Nico bid goodbye to Will, letting him go to the infirmary to finish those medicines he had been telling him about yesterday. The son of Hades went to the arena alone but retrieved the sword left in his cabin first. He paused for a moment to stare at the entrance; those high-reliefs seemed amused to see him return. He forced himself to think it was just his imagination because he hadn't slept much that night. He retrieved the sword, heading to the arena to train on some dummies.

Since Jason and Percy had left, he hadn't found anyone to spar with. True, there was always Will, who had improved as a swordsman lately, but it wasn't quite the same. He threw himself at the dummy, which took the blows immobile. Some of the demigods stopped to watch his technique—it was definitely different from what they were used to. His hip movements were fluid and harmoniously followed the gestures of his arms. Nico wasn't even thinking about what he was doing; the actions weren't connected to his thoughts, everything was happening mechanically, but from the outside, it must have seemed very elegant.

His thoughts focused on those crumpled faces, like sweet grandmothers meeting late at night to finish a quilt, to sew someone's life. The warm and welcoming voices, the same voices that accompany people at the moment of their departure. How could those old ladies be so frightening? Nico knew what it meant to have seen them; he knew the names of those three old ladies: Clotho, the spinner, she who generates life; Lachesis, fate, who wraps mortal men's lives, deciding herself how much thread to give to that life; and finally, Atropos, the only one to hold in her old and twisted fingers the shears with sparkling tips, cutting off life. Dreaming or seeing them meant an omen of death. Nico, with too much force, cut off one of the dummy's arms, unable to find any peace.

He sheathed the sword, moving the dummy along with others that had been destroyed. Being children of Hades meant dealing with death every day, not that it meant accepting it. One gets used to that presence that breathes incessantly on everyone's neck.

Nico embodied the spectral part of his father—when too tired, he could see those souls crossing the gates, lost, frightened, screaming to go back, crying because the end had come too soon, but closing his eyes and concentrating, they vanished. That, he was convinced, was the worst of curses: to see the souls of the dead every day, to hear their voices pounding in his head, for years, he had trained not to see them, not to hear them anymore. He still remembered the first soul he saw—he couldn't forget his sister's soul: bright, strong, aware that the end had come. Since then, his eyes had opened to the realm of souls, and everything became dark.

Nico didn't actually realize the time until the conch shell sounded, calling the demigods to the central pavilion. He decided to put aside his thoughts that had consumed him all morning. At his table, he found Will, along with his siblings waiting for him. He thanked them with a nod; ever since his friends had left, the Apollo cabin had tried to make him feel more or less comfortable, and they wanted to somehow get to know him since he was dating their head counselor, and also his stepbrother. Nico let the nymphs fill his plate with excellent food, asking his cup to be filled with a sugary drink to recover after the tough training. They all made their offering to the gods, Nico silently prayed to his father for help, the only god capable of giving him an explanation. Returning to the table, he hoped not to be ignored; his father was certainly no better than the other gods, he was gruff, sullen, dark, dealing with mortals annoyed him, the truth was that he didn't even know how to treat a son. He had been in his company for a few years, spending time trying to get to know him, yet he never got any positive results. Rejected by the camp and rejected also by his father.

"Nico!" Kayla called him, passing her hand in front of him to snap him out of his thoughts. "You're darker than usual today" she said as soon as she managed to get his attention.

"I was thinking" he replied, knowing that answer would generate more questions.

The girl became curious, leaning forward dramatically to know what occupied Nico's intricate mind. "What were you thinking about?" the girl whispered, not wanting anyone to hear what they had to say, which didn't work particularly well as her suspicious manner had attracted the attention of many demigods.

Nico shrugged. "Nothing important, really" he replied neutrally, glancing at Will, who responded with an embarrassed smile.

Kayla huffed, finding it an almost heroic task to get the words out of him, she wondered how Will managed to decrypt his thoughts. Nico then let the three demigods fill his table with light, bringing songs and poems, also asking Nico's opinion on a piece arranged on the spot. The boy didn't understand much about music, but it seemed good to him.

"Don't be shy, you can tell us if you don't like it!" Kayla said.

"We children of Apollo are not perfect either" Austin joked.

"It's a good piece" Nico repeated, even though at the moment he had much more to think about. The music and Will's sweet voice couldn't distract him from that annoying and macabre thought. "Excuse me" he said, getting up, leaving some leftovers on his plate.

"Are you leaving already?" the girl pouted, which elicited a slight smile from Nico.

"I'm going back to the arena" the boy replied, intercepting Will's serious and worried gaze; he didn't ask if he could come too, he let him go, waiting to talk to Nico later that evening.

The son of Hades was quite sure he wouldn't find anyone there at that hour. He then summoned a skeleton from the ground, wanting to duel with something semi-mobile and that could parry well. The first sword exchanges were fluid; the skeleton didn't give him a chance to catch his breath, and for that, he mentally thanked it. That pile of bones was giving him the chance to stay away from his thoughts that had accompanied him for much of the day without giving him a single second to breathe. He also parried the other blows that followed, staying in motion for a good half-hour until he felt the weight of the sword bearing down on him, at which point he decided it was time to stop and dismissed— with a fatal blow of the sword—his worthy opponent, sending it back to where he had summoned it from. After that long fight, he returned to his cabin, thinking only of the warm shower awaiting him.

He spent the afternoon on books, he didn't intend to fall behind with the assiignements. They had been lenient with him in New Rome solely because they knew the role he played, but that didn't mean he could rest on his laurels; on his return, he would have to demonstrate that he had learned the same topics as his classmates. Opening those books again gave him a sense of peace somehow—he found out that studying was definitely not his forte. He put in a lot of effort, that was for sure, but all those subjects would never be of any use to him. In that classroom, and perhaps in the whole school, he was the only direct descendant of a god—at just eleven years old, he had faced his first monster in the mortal world; he had learned more things than he would ever learn in class. That, he repeated to himself, was just a whim he wanted to indulge in: being in school meant living a more or less normal life, and that was all he wanted.

Soon the sun set on the camp. Nico yawned, closing the book on the bed, leaving his cabin. The sun burned the light from the sky, drawn to the darkness on the horizon, swallowing it until it disappeared.

Nico arrived at the central pavilion, taking his seat at the table, waiting for the arrival of the last demigods. Only Will sat next to him that evening; the boy had spent most of his day wondering what could have happened to Nico, why he had suddenly become so distant and without allowing anyone to understand. Will had noticed a change in his expression since he had seen Apollo; after his sentence, he had closed in on himself, perhaps there was something much more serious behind those words spoken in front of his father that he wasn't allowed to know.

Will looked at Nico, ordering his cup to fill. Sometimes he forgot he didn't have an ordinary camper in front of him. Nico himself tried to give the impression of being just one of the many campers, unfortunately without succeeding as well as he wanted. Being the son of who rules the underworld undoubtedly had its advantages, such as bypassing some semi-divine rules, but often the disadvantages tipped the scales, so he carried many secrets and often much loneliness within him.

Once—only because Will had insisted on knowing—he had confessed to being able to see the shadow of the souls arriving from Charon and sometimes at night spending a few words with some specters. That day the boy shivered, not so much for the souls of the dead, but for the simplicity with which he told him, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and perhaps it was. He had long suspected that Nico probably knew more than any other camper there at the camp. He knew the secrets of death, and this often made him fragile.

The son of Apollo decided not to ask him anything; he would be the one to speak first and only when he deemed it appropriate. So they spent dinner talking about something else, Nico told him about the book he was studying, repeating some parts more or less by heart. Will complimented him, encouraging him to continue.

At the end of dinner, the boys gathered around the bonfire, delighted by the voices of the children of Apollo, apologizing for the previous evenings if they hadn't managed to warm the atmosphere. The evening continued with songs, stories, and laughter—the fire burst into the air, crackling lively along with the light laughs of the campers. Only a few hours later came curfew, the demigods retired one by one to their cabins, and Will and Nico said goodbye with a kiss, promising to see each other at the table the next day.

Nico entered his cabin, leaning heavily against the door. He couldn't ignore those three old ladies—he would have to see them and follow them until he understood something. He sighed and approached the bed, moving away the book he had left there that evening. He lay on that bed, which for that night seemed to be made of shards of glass and thorns. He would give anything not to be like this, but if something was happening outside Camp Half-Blood, he knew he was the only one who could handle that situation. He closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away into the realm of darkness.

[CONTENTS]

prologue

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7

↬ masterlist

[chaos-grimlin]

Obsessed with your marked series!!! Please make another part😭⭐️🫶

Im so glad you like it!! Sorry if my updates are slow!! But heres chapter 18!

Intro:No one truly knows what happened that night in Woodsboro, California. All the public knows was that two teenage boys, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, went crazy. That the boys killed with no motive, that it was a case of crazy and peer pressure. Sidney Prescott, the "girlfriend" of Billy Loomis,Y/n L/n, the girl both boys were deeply obsessed with, and Gale weathers, a news reporter, where 3 of 5 witnesses that were willing to talk and tell their sides of the story to the public while Dewy Riley, the deputy sheriff of woodsboro, and tennager Randy Meeks refused to talk to law enforcements at the time. All the stories told to law enforcement seem to differ from person to person, but...in this tale, we will focus on Y/n, the obsessions, side of the story...

Marked (Poly! Billy Loomis and Stu macher x reader)

Word count:1002

Chapter 18- I promise

^^3rd Person P.O.V^^^

8 minutes....

8 minutes was all it took for Randy to get to the hospital..

Randy didnt care if he broke the speed limit, he didnt care... He just wanted to get to her..

She was all that was on his mind as he gripped the steering wheel to his old car.

Randy had never felt so worried about someone other then his parents. Yet, with her, he felt so scared that the twisted fucker that did that to her would find her again.

Randy pushed down on the gas petal a little more as he kept his eyes fixated on the road. He went over the speed limit by 5.

Soon, Randy saw the eerie looking hospital looming in the distance.

He slowed down slightly as he pulled into the hospital parking lot and quickly parked his car.

Randy yanked the seatbelt out of its buckle and quickly opened the door and stumbled out of the car.

He slammed the door shut and ran to the hospital doors.

Randy busted into the hospital, looking like a mess, but he didn't care that his hair was a mess and he didn't care that his shirt looked like it was on backwards.

"Um... Can i help you sir?" A confused voice called out, echoing in the empty lobby.

Randy jumped slightly before looking behind him, seeing a nurse looking at him.

The lady raised one of her eyebrows as she clutched her clipbored tightly.

"Um.. Yeah im here to see Y/n L/n" Randy said, frantically scratching the back of his neck.

"Visitation hours are over young man" the nurse said with a cocky tone.

"Ma'am please.. She just went through a tragic accident and... She called me crying, wanting me with her" Randy protested.

The nurse rolled her eyes. "Im sorry sir" "no no!please just let me see her, shes scared out of her mind" Randy said, remebering how scared Y/n sounded over the phone.

"What ever, go, i dont care my shifts over anyway, at least you breaking the rules will be on Darcy and not me" the nurse said throwing her hands up slightly before walking off.

Randy didnt say anything as he turned on his heels and started power walking down the halls.

He took lefts and rights, counting down all the doors till he made it to Y/ns.

Randy didn't bother to knock, he just slowly pushed the door open. "Y/n" Randy called out in a gentle whisper.

Y/n lifted her head up and looked at Randy.

Randy felt his heart break as he saw her...she looked rough... But it was what he expected..

"Randy" Y/n choked out as she stood up on shakey legs.

Pain rushed through her and she fell back down onto the thin mattress of the hospital bed.

Randy quickly made his way to her side.

Y/n looked at Randy as she took in deep breaths.

"Im here. No one will hurt you." Randy whispered in a soothing voice as he ran his fingers through her dirty hair.

Y/n looked into Randy's eyes, feeling herself calm down the longer she looked at him.

"Im sorry" she muttered.

Randys brows knitted togeather as he pushed her hair out from infront of her eyes.

"Why?" He asked. "I woke you up just because...im scared.." y/n said, looking away from him.

"Hey. Listen, id walk across just to be here with you when you needed me" Randy said, letting a soft smile grace his features

Y/n slowly pulled her legs up slightly, feeling a pulsating pain flood through her hip.

Y/n sucked air in through her teeth as her face contorted with pain.

"Dont move to much" Randy said. (Stating the obvious Randy my boi)

"I... I was moving so you could sit with me" Y/n whispered.

"Oh". And at that, Randy slowly sat down beside Y/n.

Minutes passed, and neither of the two teenagers said a word.

"Im scared Randy.." Y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Im scared they will find me...." She said, seeing those foul memories play through her mind.

"Dont be, ill protect you" he wrapped his arm around her waist, slowly moving closer to her.

"Promise?" "Promise"

Randy leanded down slightly and placed a tender kiss on Y/ns forehead, being mindful of the bandaged cuts on her face.

Y/n leaned her head on Randy's shoulder. Maybe, just maybe she could trust Randy. Maybe he would protect her.

"Randy?"

"Hm?"

"Can you stay here with me tonight?"

Randy wasn't surprised when those words left Y/ns lips.

All Randy did was nod to her....

~~~~Small time skip because its 10:36 for meee~~~~

Randy soon found himself laying beside Y/n, who was already fast asleep, in the small bed.

Randy looked down at Y/n, watching her chest gently rise and fall as she took in short breaths.

Randy slowly wrapped his arms around her torso and slowly pulled her close to him, trying not to wake her or hurt her even more.

Randy kissed Y/ns cheek as he held her.

No noise filled the room other then the faint beeping of the heart monitors in the other rooms and the sound of heels clanking on the tiles outside.

It was almost peaceful to Randy.

Randy wished he was holding Y/n on her bed rather then in a hospital bed that was barley big enough to fit the two.

He grabbed the thin blanket they covered Y/n from her hips down and slowly pulled it up, allowing the blanket to come up just slightly past her elbows.

"I promise ill protect you. You won't get hurt as long as im around, and that, my darling, is a promise that I will keep"

[strid3rofthen0rth]

The Tiny Old Lady

There's the old joke. If you own a pickup truck, everyone will call you to help move shit. And it's true, I can attest to that.

Here's the thing... I kinda like it. Yes, it's a pain in the ass at times, but at my core, since my childhood, I want to be the helpful, capable dude. The guy people call to get shit done. My dad was that guy, I want to be as well.

Today was supposed to be a full day in the wood shop. I have signs, tables, and an entertainment center coming due for clients. I was up and out there, dogs walked and eggs in me, before the sun.

Then my cousin's kid texted. He's in college, moving out of the dorms for the first time. He found himself an apartment in Madison, no appliances, so he bought a washer/dryer combo and a fridge off Marketplace. Can I drive an hour to pick them up and move them with him?

Fucking up my plans, but what would Dad say? Of course, dude. On my way.

We got to the townhouse in question. This tiny 80-year-old spitfire lady just bought it. She doesn't trust front loading machines, so she wants them out, she tells me in a cute little wool knit sweater with a string of real pearls under a Peter Pan collar. Her nails are done. Her hair is done. Her makeup is impeccable. The heat index is 95. Jesus.

Get them out, she says. Yes, ma'am.

We yank them up the stairs on my appliance dolly. She does the appropriate old lady ooo'ing and ahh'ing. Such strong young men. Oh my.

We do the appropriate, gentle, old lady flirting back. You got dressed up for us, I see. You didn't have to do that for us.

Then we loaded the fridge into the truck. It's heavy as fuck, but we have the dolly. I sent the kid up into the bed. He yanked up, I got under it and pushed it in with my back.

At which point, for the first time in my life, I heard a woman gasp and glanced over to see her literally clutching her pearls.

Life goal achieved. Cross it off the list.

Relaxing weekends are great. For me, that often means fishing, paddling, or day drinking and yard games with family and friends. Perhaps a sportsball event. All fantastic.

But there's also something restorative, reaffirming about a big, maximum effort weekend day.

Up before the sun, still kicking. I can still get up and let 'er fucking rip. Muscles and joints will be sore tomorrow, but today I am alive.

Now, time for a shower beer. Maybe I'll tell you about the sweet, little old lady who made me laugh today afterward.

[annarellix]

Death on Deck by Verity Bright (A Lady Eleanor Swift Mystery #13)

When Lady Swift embarks upon her first luxury cruise she imagines a gilded ballroom, afternoons on deck taking tea and all the delectable food she can eat. But she can’t seem to escape from murder…

Lady Eleanor Swift is all set to spend her birthday with her beau, dashing Detective Hugh Seldon, until he calls to cancel on her again at the last minute. What’s a girl to do? Pack up her staff and her faithful old bulldog, Gladstone, and head off on a cruise to New York, that’s what! On the stunningly opulent ocean liner Celestiana, Eleanor tries to forget her worries and make the most of her trip. That is, until she sees a man being shot and falling overboard. On closer inspection of the scene, Eleanor literally stumbles over the likely murder weapon. And the nick in the barrel is unmistakeable: this gun belongs to Detective Seldon… With some discreet digging, Clifford discovers Detective Seldon is aboard the ship on an undercover mission. Eleanor doesn’t want to make waves but she’s sure that something fishy is going on and he’s being framed. To get Seldon off the hook, Eleanor casts her net wide and searches for the real murderer among a sea of suspects including European nobility, Italian opera stars and American nouveau riche. But does the victim’s expensive gold ring point to a lavish lifestyle or is it a red herring? When another passenger is found dead in his first-class cabin, a poisoned whisky glass clutched in his hand, Eleanor realises they are really in hot water. Will the killer be Eleanor’s catch of the day, or will she spend her birthday at the bottom of the sea?

My Review: It’s been a couple of hectic days and a Lady Eleanor mystery was the right book to help me to relax and have some fun. After reviewing 13 novels it’s a bit hard to find something original to write: this is a series that improves with each new story and it’s also addictive as once you start reading you cannot stop and you want another story ASAP. All these blah blahs can be summarized in: This is the best story so far I love Eleanor, Clifford, the lady and Gladstone It’s tightly knitted, fast paced, and solid mystery that kept me guessing. You can read it as a stand alone but if you read the rest of the series be ready to have a lot of fun. Highly recommended. Many thanks to the Bookouture for this arc, all opinions are mine

The Author: Verity Bright is the pseudonym for a husband-and-wife writing partnership that has spanned a quarter of a century. Starting out writing high-end travel articles and books, they published everything from self-improvement to humour, before embarking on their first historical mystery. They are the authors of the fabulous Lady Eleanor Swift Mystery series, set in the 1920s.

https://twitter.com/BrightVerity

Buy Link: Amazon: https://geni.us/B0BMGRWZDWsocial

You can sign up for all the best Bookouture deals you'll love at: http://ow.ly/Fkiz30lnzdo

[babydaddyleorio]

How they would act on a plane

These are very much crack headcanons because I needed something to help me escape my writing plateau lmao

                                    How they would act on a plane

Chrollo

-If he’s sitting next to a girl? Oh he’s flirting the whole plane ride.

-Literally won’t shut up and tells her this very extravagant story trying to woo her, the whole time eyeing the necklace that’s placed on her neck.

-Also did I mention that he’s in first class? Yeah he definitely tied up some guy in the bathroom and “borrowed” his ticket.

-He’ll order drinks for him and the girl and will secretly pay for them with her money.

-A true finesser.

-Even the flight attendants love him. He has so many numbers now.

-If he does happen to sit by himself, he’ll probably read a book while listening to classical music.

-He refuses to sleep because he feels like he has enemies everywhere watching him.

-like please you are not the main character Chrollo take the damn nap. 

Shalnark

-He's on his phone the whole time but he’s so obnoxious with it. He purposefully has his volume all the way up just to annoy everyone around him.

-He’ll play games like candy crush and laughs super loudly If he makes a match and groans sadly If he runs out lives.

-The old man next to him wants to bang his head against the chair in front of him because he literally won’t shut up.

-Doesn’t put his phone on airplane mode.

-Probably hacks into the plane. Literally will make the bathroom have the occupied sign on the whole plane ride so no one could use It.

-Has a needle in the pilot’s neck just for fun.

-Also has the plane doing loopity loops in the sky and everyone is screaming for their lives while he’s just laughing evilly.

-Claps when the plane lands.

Feitan

-He just reads the whole ride.

-If you accidentally brush his arm he gives you a death glare.

-He has to jump to reach the overhead because it’s too high.

-He woke up way too early so he’s in a “I hate everyone” type of mood.

-Hisses when the person beside him tries to open up the window.

-He accidentally sits next to an escape exit and when the flight attendant asks him If he’s ready to save others just in case something happens he’s like “....No.”

-Refuses to change his answer too

-Listens to music on his playlist and silently pretends to be in a music video.

Franklin

-Takes up all of the space and squishes you.

-You wonder how the hell his earlobes got that long and he would say something smart to you like “It’s rude to stare.”

-Well excuse me...

-Someone in front him will lean back in their seat and their hair covers the movie he’s watching. 

-Is scared to move it so he just sits there like “😐”.

-All the drinks are too small to fit in his hand so he awkwardly sips from the straw that’s poked in his apple juice box.

-Someone ends up leaning their head on his shoulder while they are sleeping.

-Doesn’t know what to do now and is frantically looking around for help.

Machi

-Knitting or sewing the whole time.

-Do not try to talk to her. She won’t respond.

-Has a window seat because she likes to peacefully look at the clouds and city lights as she’s sewing.

-Also to imagine Hisoka falling from the sky without a parachute.

-Ah, so tranquil.

-Doesn’t like riding on planes because they’re kind of scary. She would never tell anyone that though. 

-Wanted to sit next to Pakunoda but instead got stuck sitting next to a chihuahua who won’t stop yapping at her the entire ride. 

-Has to stop herself from yeeting it out the window.

-The dog will see he’s not getting through to her, so he’ll slowly raise his leg up and Machi will literally start screaming at what he’s trying to do. 

-Yeah she hates her life.

Shizuku

-You can hear pierce the veil blasting from her headphones.

-Binky has its own seat for some reason.

-She goes to the bathroom and once she sees that It’s occupied (kudos to Shalnark) she will turn to go back to her seat but already forgot where she sits.

-The type to bring a book that she never reads.

-If the person next to her is watching a movie, she’ll change It simply because she doesn't like It.

-There’s one flight attendant constantly flirting with her and she gets a lot of free drinks because of them.

-Of course she never catches on and forgets who they are every time they try to talk to her.

Phinks

-Will argue with the flight attendant about how expensive the peanuts are.

-After like five minutes, he finally buys the peanuts and once he’s about to eat them the turbulence becomes so strong that It makes them fly everywhere.

-He has to resist the urge to punch the air.

-Phinks has to have an aisle seat because he gets paranoid easily.

-Phinks will try to go to sleep but there will be a kid constantly kicking the back of his chair.

-He will turn around and would be about to throat punch the kid when suddenly he sees how hot his mom is.

-Simp mode activated.

-He’ll try to flirt with the mom but the kid will notice and he ends up “accidentally” squirting his drink in Phinks face.

-Yeah It’s on sight when he gets off the plane.

Nobunaga

-Watches a movie, probably one dealing with samurai. 

-Somehow got past security with his Katana?

-Most likely because of Shalnark

-Ate really bad airport food which messed up his stomach.

-Feels sick and tries to hold It in, but you can tell by his face that he’s struggling. The old lady beside him stares with wide eyes once she hears his stomach literally start beat boxing.

-He runs down the aisle clenching his cheeks and knocks harshly on the bathroom door, but he sees that sign says occupied.

-Nobunaga is shouting at the non-existent person in there to hurry up holding his stomach.

-Shalnark Is eating popcorn and laughing at Nobunaga as he watches him through the security camera.

-Goes to ask the flight attendant for hemorrhoid cream

Pakunoda 

-Is really nice and will talk to you If you start a conversation with her

-Has earbuds packed for the altitudes and offers you some as well

-Turns her brightness down as she reads smut on her phone. Literally turned her whole body and everything so no one could see the words.

-Her face is so red as she stares at her phone and the flight attendant is so concerned that they ask if she’s okay. Pakunoda jumps so high and almost chucks her phone once she sees them standing over her, scared that they’ll see that she commented “😩💦” under the fanfic.

-Brings homemade snacks and sandwiches that no one wants 

-Has a window seat because she wanted to look out the window and see how small the land is below her

-Unlike Machi, Pakunoda has a cat sitting next to her and the cat absolutely loves her.

-Will probably steal it 

Uvogin

-sleeps the whole ride with a mask over his eyes and a neck pillow that he swiped from someone earlier.

-He snores sooo loudly and everyone around him is irritated because they can’t go to sleep because of It

-He would eat all the food on the plane

-Is the type to laugh very loudly at the movie playing or give commentary about each scene that’s happening

-Didn’t bring any luggage with him and… yeah...

-His head touches the ceiling of the plane and Its really uncomfortable 

-Has no Idea where he’s going but got on the plane anyway

Hisoka (honorable mention)

-Somehow sits in first class with Chrollo and once Chrollo sees him he almost loses his shit

- “This seat is taken.” Chrollo would say while staring straight ahead but Hisoka ignores him and sits down anyway.

- “Do you not enjoy my company?” He’d tease while licking his lips.

-Chrollo immediately gets him kicked out.

-So now he’s stuck in economy with the rest of the troupe. None of them let him sit with them either.

-Finds an empty seat and sits down In it and starts laughing to himself because he’s plotting on how to get back to first class.

-The person sitting next to Hisoka is legit terrified and they side eye him the whole ride while clutching their bag to their chest.

-Will trip people walking down the aisle with his bungee gum.

-He would purposefully take his time to get his bag out, creating a long line for no reason.

-Whole time doesn’t even have a bag.

-Is banned from ever riding a plane again.

[n3rdybird]

Chop it Like it’s Hot

NCIS NOLA

Dwayne Pride x Reader

Rating: TEEN

Reader is in a bind and asks the team for help.  Dwayne ‘King’ Pride can never say no to a damsel in distress.

It was a slow day in the office, which was good.  No crime or murder is always welcome, but there was always a backlog of paperwork to slog through.

 You tossed your pen and flexed your fingers, popping your knuckles.  Your phone beeped and a reminder popped up on your calendar.  You groaned reading the notification, having forgotten about it.

 “Is it wrong to hope for a case to come in?” you asked out loud, burying your face in your arms.  Chris, who was currently spinning in his chair reading a report, raised a brow.

 “Got plans after work?”

 “You remember that couples cooking class I signed up for, the one with my ex?”

 “Oh, you mean the ex that cheated on you with one of the other students, what did you call her?  The Betty-”

 “Betty Crocker Bimbo,” you supplied. Sebastian and Gregorio looked up from their conversation and were listening with rapt attention.

“Why are you still going again?” the former female FBI agent asked.

 “Because I’m a masochist apparently,” you mumbled before propping up your head with your hand.  “And the classes were expensive, and the teacher is a sweet old lady who I don’t wanna disappoint.”

 At Tammy’s exasperated look you got defensive.

 “What? Seriously, she’s like my grandma.  And I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.”

 “Why not just take someone else?” Sebastian suggested offhandedly.

 You paused, giving the idea some thought.  Your gaze zeroed in on your three teammates.

 “Who wants to be my fake boyfriend?”  You looked at Tammy.  “Or girlfriend, beggars can’t be choosers.”

 Tammy snorted.

 “You would be so lucky.”

 “Tammy? Sebastian? Chris?  I’ll owe you one?”  You held your hands up in a pleading position, turning your pleading eyes on the team.

 “I don’t cook,” Tammy said, shrugging.  “Sorry, girl.”

 “I’m not sure I’d really be the best choice.  I’m not exactly the type to inspire jealousy.  Besides, I have an online tournament tonight.  I’m in the finals,” he said excitedly.  Tammy gave him a high five and you cheered for your resident geek.  You turned your eyes to your final choice.

 Chris held up his hands.

 “Well as much as I’d like to help you get back at that asshole, I got plans tonight,” he said with a wink.  The rest of you groaned at his cockiness.  “Sorry sugar.”

 You clutched at your chest.

 “Betrayal!”  You sighed and fiddled with the papers on your desk.  “Maybe I should skip it.”

 “Skip what?”

 You looked up to see your team leader, Dwayne Pride holding a coffee mug and a report.

 “Oh, it’s nothing, just a cooking class,” you said, trying to brush off the question. 

 It was one thing for Chris, Tammy, or Sebastian to get involved in your weird shitty romance troubles, but Pride?  You’d rather die.  It wasn’t that he was your boss; the NCIS team was close-knit, like family.  Eating dinners together, going out for drinks, celebrating holidays.  You, however, did not think of Pride as a father figure as Chris did.  You had been harboring a crush on the older man for months.

 The easy banter between teammates, casual low-stakes flirting, and dear god, the rare occasion he calls you darlin’, it makes you melt.  You never crossed that line though. You kept your personal life mostly separate from your work life, especially when it came to relationships.

 Dwayne took a swallow of his coffee, gauging your expression.  If he noticed your unease, he didn’t comment on it.

 “Sounds like fun, you should go.”  He tapped the file on his desk.

 “Well, looks like today is gonna be a paperwork day.  Finish up your current reports and you can head out.”

 The team relished the idea of an early day, something that did not happen all too often.

 “Keep your phones on, just in case,” he added.

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

 You hefted your tote bag higher on your shoulder and took a deep breath.  You could do this.  You opened the door to the community center classroom and walked in.  Some of the class had already gathered, waiting for the instruction to start.  You greeted a few of the other students, making your way to your preferred station in the center of the room.

 You tried to ignore the chatter behind you, feeling very much like you did in grade school.  Your ex and his new partner had positioned themselves at the station behind you. Close enough that you could hear their biting remarks, but hidden from the lovely old lady who taught your class.

 A hand touched your shoulder.  You turned to see Mrs. Wanda, the teacher giving you a soft smile.

 “Just you today?”

 “Yeah,” you said, rubbing your arm.

 “Don’t worry, it’s a fairly simple recipe today,” she said, patting your shoulder before walking to the front of the room.

 “Alright class, let’s get started.  This is one of my favorite nights, tapas and sangria.  Now tapas are fun to make and from a variety of ingredients.  And sangria, of course, makes everything better.”

 The class laughed along with the free-spirited woman.

 “These are simple to put together once you know the techniques.  Finger foods are great for a party or a romantic night.”

 “Can’t wait to feed you these, babe,” your ex, Peter, crooned at his new partner.

 She giggled and sounded like she hit him in the arm.

 “You’re so bad, stop it.”

 You rolled your eyes and redoubled your effort to pay attention when Wanda paused in her introduction.

 “Are you here for the class?” she called to the back of the room.  You, along with the rest of the class turned to see who came in.

 “Yeah, sorry I’m late, my partner is right up front,” a familiar voice drawled.  You froze as Dwayne made his way to your side.  He drew you into a hug.

 “I’m guessing your ex is the one glaring at me now?” he whispered against your hair.  “Chris said you might need a little help,”

 “I’m gonna kill LaSalle, and yes, that’s Peter, my ex,” you whispered back before turning back to the front.  Wanda gave the two of you a beaming smile.

 “I’m so glad you could make it, I was just getting started so you haven’t missed anything.”

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

 Having Dwayne as your partner was the best.  Or the worst.  From a cooking standpoint, everything was going well.  He was already a fantastic chef, as evidenced by the many meals he fed the team before.  And he was such a good teacher.  He didn’t take over but instead suggested different techniques to make the food prep easier.  If you were struggling, he’d guide your hands with his, or gently nudge you out of the way with his hip.  Wanda might have been the one teaching the class but Pride was your own one-on-one teacher.

 On the other hand, he had never been sexier.  Sure, working with the man you saw the agent take down bad guys in his tactical vest.  Which was almost criminal itself.  But ‘Chef Pride’?  Dear Lord in heaven.  You couldn’t divide whether this was a good thing or pure torture.  Team drinks at the Tru Tone?  Easily managed.  Dwayne was usually playing host and you had the buffer of other people.  Here?  When his attention was on you and the food?  It was all too easy to slip into friendly banter that veered into flirting territory.

 You wiped your hands on your apron, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

 “I’m gonna go rinse these dishes,” you said, grabbing a stack of mixing bowls you were no longer using.  Pride touched your arm, causing you to pause.  He held out a tasting spoon.  You smiled and allowed him to let you taste the garlic sauce for the shrimp.  You closed your eyes in bliss, letting out a satisfied moan.

 “You are a dangerous man in the kitchen,” you said, catching Pride’s self-assured smile as he winked at you, tossing a towel over his shoulder with practiced ease.

 You shook your head in amusement and headed to the wash station.  You were having so much fun. Even your tormentors were quiet, only whispering to themselves rather than sending barbs your way. You turned your eyes back towards Dwayne, who was talking with Wanda, hands gesturing animatedly.  He caught your gaze and winked, making you roll your eyes.

 “I knew it,” your ex’s voice broke into your thoughts.  You glared at the man to your left.

 “Knew what Peter?” you sighed, continuing to wash.

 “I always knew you had a thing for your boss.  It was always Pride this, Pride that.”

 “Well, he is my boss.  We spend a lot of time together, as I do with the rest of the team.”

 “Yeah, but they aren’t here, are they?” he whined.

 You turned off the faucet and rounded on your ex.

 “Well, it’s none of your business anymore is it?”  You stacked the clean bowls on the drying rack.  Peter was about to say something else when a hand touched your waist.

 “Hey darlin’, the shrimp is ready if you are finished,” Pride said, before turning to your ex.  “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna steal my partner back.”  His tone was light, but his hand on your back as he guided you back towards your workstation brooked no argument.

 “Everything alright?” he murmured. 

 You nodded.

 “He’s just being jealous,” you said, brushing it off.

 “Jealous of what?”

 “Your cooking skills.  I can smell their burned croquetas from here,” you joked, tilting your head back.

 He suppressed a laugh, bumping your hip with his.

 “You aren’t bad either darling.”

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

 The rest of the night went well.  Peter was sulking behind you, but you didn’t pay him any mind.  Pride regaled you with stories and fed you delicious bites of food.  It was easy to lose yourself in the banter and flirting.  A part of you wished the night wouldn’t end.  But it would, and you’d go back to being regular friends, coworkers.

 As the night dwindled to the end, you split cleaning duties.  As you wiped down the counter, Wanda sidled up next to you.

 “So this new beau of yours,” she started, glancing towards Pride.  “He’s so charming.  I might have to steal him.”

 You laughed, swatting her with a towel.

 “You can’t steal from me when he’s not mine,” you sighed.  “We’re just coworkers.”

 Wanda scoffed.

 “There is no way you are "just" coworkers.  That man has been flirting with you all night.”

 “That’s how he is, that New Orleans charm.  Besides, he’s helping me out.  You know, with my ex situation.”

 The older woman shook her head.

 “If you say so, but I think there is a little something there.  Definitely some chemistry.”  She patted your shoulder before moving on to talk to one of the other students.

 You tossed the towel into a bin of dirty linens and began packing your supplies.  You wished Wanda hadn’t said anything.  She put this tiny spark of hope in your chest, that maybe Pride thought of you as you did him. You began micro-analyzing every interaction you two had that night, every touch, every word.  Was he just being friendly or was Wanda right?  You two worked together.  Would he even allow himself to date you?  Would you have to leave the team?  What if you didn’t work out?  Was it even worth it?

 You looked at Pride who smiled back.  Those warm, crinkly, whiskey brown eyes.

 You groaned.  That man was gonna be the death of you.  You picked up the pitcher of leftover sangria, debating whether or not you should just down the rest of it.  Probably not the best idea, considering you were trying to keep your wits about you.  But another half-glass?  Why not?

 You split the sangria between your and Pride’s glasses and focused on packing up the leftover tapas.

 “Is that for me?” Pride asked, nodding to the glass.

 “It’d be wasteful not to finish,” you shrugged, taking a swig.

 “Well, I’d hate to be wasteful,” he agreed, taking a swallow as well.  The rest of the students were finishing up and leaving the room.  You and Pride dallied, enjoying your drinks.  Wanda gave you an exaggerated wink and wished you a good night before leaving.

 Soon the two of you were alone, sitting in silence drinking sangria.

 “Thank you again, Pride, for coming,” you said, spinning your glass.

 “No problem, I’m happy to help.  Besides, I like cooking.”  He took a sip.  “Add in a good drink, and you have yourself a good time.”  He held up his glass and clinked it against yours.

 “Santé darlin’.”

 There it was, that damn word again.  You stared at your drink as if it held all the answers to mysteries of the universe in it.

 “You know, you didn’t have to sign up for cooking classes.  I’d be happy to teach you anytime,” he offered.

 “I couldn’t ask you to do that Pride, you work longer than the rest of us.  Plus you have the bar and Laurel.”  He went to respond when you continued.

 “Besides, this originally started as a couple thing.  And you can see how well that worked out.”  You drained the rest of your glass and set it down with finality.

 “He’s an idiot,” he drawled.

 “Well yeah, I know that now,” you said.

 Dwayne reached over and put his hand over yours.  His calloused hand dwarfed yours, sending zips down your spine.

 “I’m serious (Y/N), anyone would be lucky to have ya.”

 “Even you?” you blurted out.

 Immediately you froze and your mind raced at a mile a minute.  Oh fuck, did I say that out loud?  Dwayne, to his credit, didn’t pull away or remove his hand.  In fact, his hand tightened on yours.

 “God, Dwayne, please pretend you didn’t hear that,” you moaned, dropping your head in embarrassment as your neck flushed.

 “Now why would I go and do a thing like that?”

 Your head darted up to see Dwayne smiling at you.  His thumb traced a gentle pattern on your skin.  He lifted your hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on the inside of your wrist.  You were dumbfounded.  Not even in your wildest dreams would you have imagined this outcome.

 “Darlin’, I don’t normally allow myself to hold feelings for people I work with.  But you-” he paused as he ran his fingers along your forearm.  The Dwayne Pride you knew was never at a loss of words.  He wasn’t going to push the situation.  He was waiting for you.

 You surged forward and kissed him.  His hands went to your neck, holding you close.  One of your hands fisted in his shirt and the other braced your weight on the table.  Dwayne’s kisses were languid like the energy of New Orleans.  He wasn’t forceful but instead took his time exploring your lips and tasting the sangria left there.  His thumb traced the soft skin under your ear.

 You turned your head to breathe, but Dwayne continued his exploration, worrying the skin at your pulse point.

 You stumbled a bit, and Dwayne caught you, pulling back from the kiss.

 “A little weak in the knees?” he joked as he helped you sit down.

 “Probably the sangria,” you sassed.

 Dwayne laughed at your barb and took both of your hands in his.

 “You are somethin’ else,” he marveled.  You felt bare under his unabashed gaze.  You squeezed his hands.

 “We can do this right? This isn’t gonna bite us in the ass later on?”

 Dwayne sighed.

 “I can’t make any promises, but all I can say is that I want to try this.  We’ll have to be discreet at work, of course, keep it professional, but-”

 “I want to kiss you again,” he admitted.

 You got up and stood between his legs.  You carded your fingers through his silver hair, scratching his scalp with your nails.  His hands came to a rest on your hips, as he groaned at your ministrations.  He pulled you down into your lap.  You tilted your head and kissed him again.  His hand slipped under your shirt, his warm hands causing your skin to tingle.  You thumbed his jaw, feeling the slight scruff of his five o’clock shadow.

 “I’ll say again, you are dangerous, Dwayne Pride.”  He chuckled against your lips.

 “Likewise darlin’.”

[ladybugout-au]

Dear. GOD. After seeing Furious Fu, I would honestly love to see LBO!Marinette just chewing out Su-Han for all his canon-to-fic BULLSHIT. Like, I know you’ve already got a plan to incorporate Feast into LBO, which I’m super excited for, so this asshole showing up with all his nonsense after the new Team Miraculous is set, hell maybe even after they’ve already retrieved the Butterfly and the Peacock, and watching Marinette (and possibly Fu since he has the memories to stand up for himself) tear this dude a new one would really be the cherry on top of an already awesome fic. Sorry to rant in your inbox lol but the new episode just made me so. ANGRY.

In the lounge room of the Liberty, everyone jumped as they heard a noise from up above deck, as if something heavy had fallen or been dropped. Marinette briefly pulled away from Luka’s hold, staring up at the ceiling and wondering aloud, “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Juleka admitted, exchanging concerned looks with Rose.

“That definitely wasn’t Mom,” Luka noted with a tilt of his head.

Pounding footsteps followed, making it clear that a person had clearly gotten on the houseboat without the gangplank being there.

Nino jolted on alert, turning to Duusu with a hushed whisper. “Hide!”

“All of you,” Kagami began, standing up and looking around vaguely at every kwami. “get out of sight.”

The kwami, breaking out of their trance after the brief scare, scattered in every direction to find their own individual hiding places, some choosing to hide with their respective holder and others preferring to hide behind or inside objects. Ivan went into his usual protective mode, wrapping an arm around Mylene while she clung to him.

Marinette stood up, rushing over to the table and picking up the Miracle Box to stow it away. She looked around, then dashed for the microwave and stored the box inside.

She shut the door just in time for the intruder to descend from the staircase: an old man, dressed in Chinese garb and carrying a strange mystical-looking staff. He had a stern expression, his brows knitted together as he scanned the room like none of them were even there. He raised his staff, his gaze eventually locking on the microwave the Marinette was standing near.

Without a word, he pushed Marinette aside, earning an offended, “Excuse me—hey!” from her as he grabbed the microwave door and tugged it. When that did little more than jostle the microwave itself, he tried blindly tampering with the buttons to no avail.

Marinette slapped his wrist away, standing with all her pride as guardian as she asked, “What do you think you’re doing?!”

He glared at her in response. “Young lady, I demand you open your magical sealing chamber and return what’s rightfully mine!”

She blanked, the words catching her completely off-guard. This guy thought their microwave was a magical sealing chamber?

In response, Marinette gave a brief glance to the others, who were all looking back at her with equally puzzled expressions, any tension from before completely gone.

An unspoken question echoed throughout the room: Is he for real?

Before Marinette could ask any further, Tikki emerged from her hiding spot, flying over and explaining, “Marinette, I know who this is! This is great master Su-Han, the guardian of the Miracle Box!”

Marinette raised a brow skeptically. “But I’m the guardian?”

“He was responsible for the box before the incident that Master Fu caused,” she corrected.

Su-Han looked down at Marinette condescendingly. “So you are the current holder of the box.”

“That’s right,” she confirmed unapologetically. She gave a side-glance to Luka and the others, seeing that they were prepared to stand up and fight for her, but she gave a subtle gesture to let them know that it wasn’t necessary. Resolving to deal with Su-Han herself, she faced him again. “How did you find us?”

He held out his staff, the jewel on it mere centimeters from her face. “Guardian scepters are equipped with compasses that can find their Miracle Box at any given time.”

“In case you lose it?” Marinette blurted out, but didn’t apologize or try to take it back.

“Insolent!” Su-Han gasped. “You are not even a proper guardian. I can tell that this box hasn’t even been properly passed down to you!”

“Because Master Fu gave it to me,” she explained, “and we agreed that he should keep his memories.”

“Fu?” Su-Han echoed. “You mean Wang Fu? Chicken legs?”

Is this guy five? Marinette wondered.

Orikko popped out from their hiding place, waving a paw at Su-Han as if in warning. “I take offense to that!”

Su-Han glared at Orikko at the comment, and Orikko quickly ducked back down. Turning his attention back to Marinette, he continued, “Wang Fu is a student who wasn’t even able to fast for a day, nor do a thousand finger-pushups. He was never a rightful guardian, and he failed to fulfill the hope we’d seen in him.”

“Master Fu may have made mistakes, but he’s done his best to make up for all of them!” she argued. “He protected the box for over one hundred years and it’s because of his choices that our team was able to defeat Hawk Moth!”

“Team?” Su-Han asked, his face scrunching up as if he were piecing something together.

“Yes!”

Marinette gestured to her boyfriend and friends for emphasis. Luka, Ivan, Kagami, and Juleka stood while Rose and Nino pinched and stretched their shirts to show off their respective miraculouses.

“Children?” Su-Han gaped. Glaring at Marinette, as if she had personally given out the miraculouses herself, he declared, “Children are never meant to hold miraculouses, especially from the first and most powerful Miracle Box! Kwami are extremely powerful, cosmic creatures!”

A voice piped up from across the room. “Y-you say that, but—!”

Marinette and Su-Han turned to look at Nooroo, who had peeked out from behind Rose’s shoulder. He breathed up, seeming to gain some confidence, then floated out to the center of the room.

“They saved me and Duusu from the hands of evil! We would still be in Gabriel’s clutches if not for them!”

“What?” Su-Han asked. Just when Marinette thought they might be getting somewhere, he turned back to her and accused, “The peacock and butterfly were lost?!”

“Fu lost them when he was escaping the temple,” Marinette explained, a mixture between unphased and annoyed at the man’s outbursts, “but we got them back and everything’s okay now.”

Luka chimed in from his place near the couch, “Marinette has been an incredible leader, as both Ladybug and the guardian.”

She smiled at him in thanks, but Su-Han was clearly focused on anything but the positives.

“Ladybug? You’re even wearing a miraculous?! Guardians aren’t meant to hold miraculouses!” he said, throwing his arms out for effect.

“What—why?” she asked, genuinely confused.

Instead of answering her, Su-Han pulled out a book, shoving it pointedly towards her with the cover facing downwards in his palm. “Let me remind you of a few important rules you’ve violated.” He flipped through a few pages, then pointed at one of them. “Rule fourteen: Kwami must not live outside of the box.” He flipped through a few more. “Rule fifty-two: Guardians must never lose a miraculous. “He flipped to a page near the end. “Rule one hundred and thirty-three: Guardians must never, under any circumstances, wear a miraculous.”

“Master Fu wore a miraculous,” she argued, having never heard of any such rule from him.

“And that proves exactly what I’m talking about!” Su-Han retorted. “Neither you nor Fu are capable guardians because neither of you have respected the rules of the order!”

“...”

When Marinette initially imagined the Order of the Guardians and the people who ran it, this was not what she’d pictured. She had pictured zen and calm, not belligerent and immovable. She was reminded vaguely of her grandfather when she first met him, and that wasn’t a good thing.

She tossed another gaze at everyone, who gave her the same look and nod in response: let him have it.

“Young lady, I’ll repeat myself once,” Su-Han warned. “Return the Miracle Box and the miraculouses to me before--”

Marinette grabbed the book out of his hand, shut it with a satisfying “clap,” then set it back in his hand. “No.“

“What did you say?” he asked, aghast that she would speak to him that way.

“I said no.” Marinette advanced on him, the sheer force of her presence making him take a step back. “Now let me remind you about everything you must’ve missed this whole time.”

She raised a finger at him, raising additional fingers as she went on. “One: You intruded on my boyfriend’s house without any sort of permission. If you’d actually called out to us, we might’ve actually been willing to come out and listen to what you had to say. Two: You wouldn’t have even been able to be here in the first place if not for me using Miraculous Ladybug after our team took down Feast, which you weren’t able to do. Three: We aren’t children, we’re teenagers, and the fact that you can’t tell the difference or bother learning what technology is shows that I shouldn’t trust you with the Miracle Box even if you had a right to it. Four: You didn’t bother to listen and blamed me for losing miraculouses when it was you and your order who didn’t keep an eye on a poor boy who didn’t want to be there. Five, last but not least: I say the kwami are allowed out of the Miracle Box because I am the guardian. You and your order have been gone for over one hundred years and you can’t go making demands after I brought you back. You told me rules I didn’t even know about and didn’t explain why you have those rules in the first place. The kwami are my friends and they have feelings and I’m not going to shut them in a box because you told me to.”

Silence filled the room, no one saying a word and Su-Han’s face contorting between shock and outrage.

Marinette took a step back, standing at the ready and gesturing to herself. “So if you want the Miracle Box, you’re going to have to go through us first.”

She tossed a look at her team, all of them doing a synchronized, confrontational motion to face Su-Han.

“Tikki!”

“Plagg!”

“Wayzz!”

“Pollen!”

“Trixx!”

“Nooroo!”

“Duusu!”

They then shouted in unison, “Transform me!”

Several individual flashes meshed together, overtaking the room and then fading to leave several heroes behind, their weapons equipped for battle.

Su-Han looked amongst them, a flicker in his eyes that hinted that he knew he would be outmatched, but also wasn’t willing to admit it. He retreated a few steps back, hands out to show that he was prepared to defend himself.

It was at that moment that Ladybug heard and noticed movement from behind him, realization striking and a smile overtaking her face. Pulling back from her fighting pose, she placed a hand on her hip and stated confidently, “Captain Anarka will escort you out.”

He looked confused, and he was only able to let out a, “What—?” before a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

Su-Han wasn’t even able to turn around before he was pulled backward, a jewelry-adorned fist decking him in the face and sending him flying into the staircase. His scepter fell to the floor and he could only gape at the woman standing there, cracking her knuckles while he was sprawled out on the stairs with all air having been knocked out of him.

“A trespasser on my ship, eh?” Anarka asked, a grin on her face but her eyes glinting with malice. “I don’t take kindly to ship rats who threaten my crew and think they’re too good to walk the plank.”

Su-Han hurried to get up, only for Anarka to grab him by his shirt and haul him up the stairs, a rapid shuffling noise following as Ladybug went over and shut the door.

A few seconds passed and the atmosphere shifted to peace, everyone mutually releasing their transformations and relaxing. Marinette smiled reassuringly at everyone, letting them know that things were okay, but then jumped as she heard a resounding, “Marinette!”

The kwami all emerged from their hiding places, Marinette having no time to react as they all charged at her, their tiny bodies clinging affectionately to whatever they could grab of her.

“You’re amazing!”

“Thank you so much!”

“You stood up for us!”

“You’re the best guardian ever!”

Marinette gasped, finding it hard to move without disturbing any of them. Trying hard not to laugh, she protested, “Aha—hey! Stop, you’re all tickling me!”

She blushed, looking over at her teammates who were only staring at her with pride, which just made the pink on her cheeks turn red. “This is so embarrassing!”

Once the kwami had their fill of thanking her, they finally obeyed and flew away, each giving her smiles of approval. She covered her face with a hand, waiting for the shyness to die down, then noticed the guardian scepter out of the corner of her eye, still lying on the ground.

She approached, touching the scepter at first to make sure it was safe, then properly picking it up and letting it stand next to her. She tapped the gem on top, eyeing the compass that Su-Han had been talking to her about, then followed its direction back to the microwave. She walked over, opening it up, then took out the Miracle Box and held it in her free hand.

Looking back and forth between the two clearly ancient objects, she couldn’t help chuckling. “They don’t really suit me.”

Her friends giggled in response, Luka in particular shooting her a warm smile and approaching. One of his hands went to the scepter and the other went to rest on the Miracle Box.

“I think you make them work, actually,” he replied.

Marinette beamed at him, thoroughly warmed by the compliment. It didn’t feel like that long ago when her support was lacking and defeating Hawk Moth seemed like a pipe dream.

Now, holding the Miracle Box and scepter in her hands, she didn’t know why she’d ever doubted herself.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Then, looking at the Su-Han-less room, she gave a shrug and walked back with Luka to the couch. “So, where were we?”

[sweetsbfreex]

a father’s duty

Summary: brought to u by the wholesome picture of Cevans sewing up dodger’s stuffed lion 🤧

Warnings: Talk of trauma (nothing too in depth) and talk of sex

Pairings: Dad, Husband!Ransom x reader

-

You and Ransom were cuddled up together on the couch, some random movie he had chosen that you weren’t paying attention to. You wanted to cuddle, but he insisted on watching this movie so a compromise had to be made. And the feeling of his hand going up and down, inside your shirt, against your arm; Could only make you purr in contentment.

And you were meant to doze off if it wasn’t for the dramatic, high pitched scream of pure agony. You both shot up from your seats, looking at each other wide eyed before dashing up the stairs (Ransom ahead). 

Until you were in the doorway of an overly purple room.

“Mommy! Daddy!”

Ransom let a small, stunned gasp at the feel of a teary eyed four year old, Celeste bolting to his legs. Her small arms had tried to wrap around his legs as she sobbed into his jeans, fists tight as she clutching the denim. 

Confused you had leant down adjacent to her, Ransom peering down from his stance, lifting her arms to softly run circles over her back. 

“What’s wrong baby?” a fake pout on your lips.

“She’s dead!” she had sobbed, her puffy cheek making contact with his expensive jeans to make eye contact with you. 

“What? Who’s dead babe?” Ransom asked, tilting his head downward, eye brows stitched together. 

She propped her chin up against his leg, “Daffy” she blubbered, extending her arm behind her to point at the limp stuffed bunny a few feet away.

“Fucking––” He couldn’t finish his sentence a hearty laugh emitted into the otherwise somber air, still laughing (some tears streaking his face) he had picked up the once blubbering girl so she saddled on his hip. 

“Ransom! It’s not funny and language, god”

“C'mon” he dragged the n, “You gotta admit this is hilarious, she’s so dramatic...I wonder who she gets it from” he smirked, looking at you knowingly. 

“You” you appointed, holding back your smile. 

“As if” he scoffs rolling his eyes. 

“Daffy!” Celeste exclaimed, snapping the two from their loving trance. 

“Right!” you snapped yourself back into mom mode, making way to Daffy and your way back to the two, watching Ransom wipe the tears from Celeste’s face, calming her down in a hushed voice.

You sidle up next to Ransom lifting the stuffed animal, so the both of you could evaluate the state of her favorite buddy. You looked up to him, watching his face scrunch up, almost like disgust, but you knew he was just very confused.

“Jeez leste, what’d you do?” 

The light yellow bunny up front was perfectly fine, but once you had turned it around a tear in the fabric of the it’s “spine” was parted, the thread poking out along the hem. 

“I–– I was just spinning her around”

“Is that really what you did” you prompted.

“No..” she set forward shyly, resting her temple against her father’s shoulder. “There was a string and then I pulled it by accident”

“By accident?” Ransom asked, eyebrows raised. 

“On purpose” she mumbled, eyes tearing up slowly.

Celeste is probably the biggest liar the two of you know. You both have been working on that habit, reassuring her that it was fine and being honest is better most times (minus surprises, safety, etc). You both had even resorted to acting out examples for her. She was getting better, but ever the fibber she still found a way to slip into the habit. And when you had asked her why exactly she loved lying, she only replied with a quib “It’s fun!” giggling to herself. 

“Hey it’s okay, you were curious” he cooed, “Mommy will fix it don’t worry” 

You looked up at him mesmerized, not so surprised at the father he was becoming. Remembering all those nights he had kept the two of you up, even the day you were in labor, he had been worried. How was he ever supposed to love a kid properly–– let alone his–– when he never had that benefit. All these what ifs running through his head in a cycle.

He had even taken it upon himself to sign you both up for those parenting classes. The ones with the fake dolls. Dolls that he held gently as if they were alive.

“I will. You’ve had a long day, love, you wanna go to bed now?” you asked her, smiling. 

She nods silently, reaching her hands out to you. Ready for the familiar night routine to begin.

––––

After Celeste had been put to bed, it was not you and Ransom being the only two up. You were both in your shared bathroom, getting ready for bed. 

You groaned, catching the attention of Ransom. “Sewing that thing is gonna be some work” watching yourself in the mirror as you rub in your lotion. 

“You’re tying that thing together, how hard can that be?”

“I’m sewing it together” 

“Tomato, Tomahto” he responded. 

“Fine, since you think it’s so easy why don’t you fix it for her?” 

“Deal. I’ll take another night of anal as my end” he says this confindently, not expecting another word for you, as he saunters past you briskly but not before placing a kiss to your check and a rough smack to the ass. 

Ransom.

–––––

And god did he take this seriously. Making sure you were up this entire time as he achieved his new level of domesticity. 

And you did, sitting up against the headboard as you watched him sit shirtless across the sized room. 

He sits in the barrel chair. the stuffed animal in his lap, a spool of light pink thread to match the bunny in between his legs, and a packet of needles in his hand. 

“Babe you have to––”

He holds up a hand, stopping you from saying whatever you were about to say.

“I got this babe” he tells you, looking at you wearily as he pulls up a video (‘how to sew stuffed bunny animal together’) on his phone. 

You watch him watch the video,switching the show you were watching to make it seem as if you weren’t watching him too carefully. 

He squints, focused as he listens to the lady in the video.

“You look so cute”

“Thanks” he grumbles, placing a thimble on his pointer finger. 

He was like a cute grandmother. His eyebrows brought together and tongue poking through his cheek, which you teased him endlessly about. There was just something about watching a brawly, grumpy man like him knit. So you pulled your phone out wanting to take a quick picture. 

“Put. it. down.” he tells you, not even looking away from his task.

“Wha–– You’re really creepy, you know that. Smile” you demand of him. “It’d be so cute for the album”

He of course doesn’t smile instead raising the stuffed animal to cover his face from the camera, but you were quick enough to get something before that. Smiling fondly at the adorable photo of his concentrated face. Once you had your fill of serotonin, you closed the device and reached over to set it on your nightstand. 

“You gonna give me a kiss goodnight before you go?” he asks you stoically, head still looking down at his task. 

“Yes Ransom. Just give me a minute’ you respond, shimmying yourself from the soft sheets. You make your way besides Ransom–– naturally he wraps one arm around your waist to bring you–– leaning down and placing a kiss to his cheek (which he smiles at) then his lips. He pulls back first only to return again for a deeper one. Sending you off, finally, with a pinch to your ass. 

“Goodnight, Baby” you tell him over your shoulder on your way back to the bed. 

“Night y/n/n.”

–––––

“y/n” is whispered in your ear and the shaking of your shoulder is what causes you to wake up. You turn your head over your shoulder to see Ransom standing over you gleefully. 

“Ransom?” you rasp, turning your whole body over to face him, looking at the clock on your night stand. “It’s two in the morning!”

“Thanks captain obvious” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Yet, he lifts up the stuffed animal. Both hands on either paws, holding it up to show you. “I finished!”

You instantly noticed the band-aid wrapped around his thumb and the brightest smile on his face. Through it you could see how proud of himself he really was. He really was getting a hand of this dad thing he was still figuring it out. 

Ransom, however, could only think about how tired he was and how strained his eyes felt––probably rimmed red. With the amount of times he had to rewatch the video because he missed or didn’t understand a step. But, for his little girl it was definitely worth it. 

“Well, look at you. You did so good bub” you extend your arm up lazily to then loop it around his neck, bringing him down for a kiss. 

If only his conceited friends could see him now. Thinking about how Danver, one of the many friends he had dropped, would berate him passively. Calling it a women’s role most likely. 

“Thank you” he settles one more kiss, “Let’s go”

“Go where?” you chuckle

“Leste’s room...where else? She’ll need him to sleep the rest of the night comfortably” he explains, removing your arm from his neck. To gently tug your hand.

“You sure?” you ask hesitantly.

“Hundred percent, let’s go”

––––

You open the door slowly, the creaking sound it emitted making you cringe. And when you’re hushed by Ransom, you twist around instantly sending him a stink eye.

And you both stand against the side of her bed, you crouch down. Raising your hand to her shoulder. 

“Lesty” you whisper, your thumb running circles over her shoulder. 

She wakes up slowly, as always. The clear indication that she is awake being when she raises her hand to rub at her eyes.

“Mommy? She stops and gasps, “Are we going to Disney?” asking the question with glee, she sits up, her hands placed over her book patterned pajama pants.

You and Ransom share a short laugh. Remembering how you surprised her just like this months ago. The frown that overtakes her face makes you both want to laugh. 

“I’m going back to sleep” she tells you both, already reaching for her blanket. 

“Wait” you laugh, holding her hand. “There's a surprise for you” 

At your announcement, Ransom steps up holding out the sewed up stuffy. Her tiny hands covered the gasp she let out, muffling it.

“She’s fixed!” she’s astonished, running her fingers  along the stitches. 

Celeste felt like a jumping bean with all this happiness filling her body and she wasn’t sure how to express how happy she felt. So, she jumped onto her mother, arms latched onto her neck. Kissing her cheek incessantly.

“Thank you thank you thank you-”

“Actually––” you start.

“Woah! Woah! Woah!” ever the dramatic, “Momma didn’t do this. I did babe” he tells her, a gobsmacked, playful expression on his face. 

Ransom’s replica quickly unlatched herself from y/n, rocketing herself into his arms. He held onto her tightly. Falling in love with the toothy smile–– albeit it was missing a front one–– she gave him. He was rolling around in her appreciation towards his gesture. This was all he wanted. To be a better man for you to marry and be a better father for his daughter.

He brought her into him a little bit, placing a kiss to her forehead. 

“Anything for you Leste” he tells her in a hush. 

You rise slowly from your crouch, knees a bit sore from how long you were down there. Just in awe of the love they both exerted towards each other. Ransom’s hand lightly flying over the back of her head and Her tiny palm coddling his cheek.

“Time for bed?” you ask the two of them, your hand naturally going to Ransom and Celeste’s shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m tired” she tells you, dragging out the h. Setting her cheek to her dad’s muscled shoulder. Nuzzling her cheek against it lazily. 

“Yeah? Well let’s put you in bed first” Ransom responds. 

You walk behind the two, as Ransom sets her down gently on her bed.

He sets a kiss to her cheek then he pulls back, watching the way her arms tighten around the stuffed animal. 

“You love it?” he asks, a proud smile etched on his face. 

“Yes” she whispers, “Thank you, daddy” her palm caressing the top of it’s head. 

“Anything for you Leste” he reaffirmed. He needed her to know that he’d do anything. Anything. To keep a smile that bright on her precious face. He didn’t want her to doubt if he ever loved her or if she could ever come to him about anything. He especially didn’t want her to think that she’d be second to his work. 

He loved her too much and decided, right when you told him the news, he’d learn from his parents’ mistakes and trauma he had to deal with. 

“Goodnight, honey”

He gets up from his spot watching you lean over placing a kiss to her cheek, tugging the crocheted blanket to Celeste’s chin. 

“Night baby” you tell her sweetly.  

“Night” she replies to the both of you before snuggling into the duck more. 

––––

RIght when you shut the door, you expect to face Ransom’s back walking towards your bedroom. But try not to scream, startled, when your head meets with his chest.

You look up, probably not the smartest thing to do. “You ready for bed?” you ask nervously, each hand landing on his broad shoulders. 

With the way he was looking at you, you would assume you were the last stash of biscoff cookies he always keeps fully stored in the house. Especially, with the other Drysdale in the house, the cookies went by faster when they used to.

“Don’t think so..We made a bet. Remember?” he smiles

“RIght now?!” you hiss lowly. He must have lost his mind. “You woke me up at like three in the morning”

“It was actually two” you whack his arm at his smart mouth, of course he doesn’t react.  “Anyway. A bets a bet. Let’s go baby” he crouches down, lifting you up swiftly into a bride-groom like position.

“Ransom!” you whisper, taken by surprise. 

“A quickie and then we’ll drop her off at your parents tomorrow to get to the real stuff tomorrow” he asserts.

With that, he picks up his speed. Taking you both down the hallway. Once he’s arrived at his destination–– the bedroom–– he throws you on the bed. Laughing to himself with how stricken you look. You should be used to this by now, he tells himself. 

“Ransom!” is the last of his name he hears with a tone of scolding mixed with shock, before he gets to work. When he climbs on top of you quickly––like a lion to prey––biting your neck. 

-

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

[shookspearewrites]

Shookspeare Fatherhood: Isaac

Welcome to the first installment of #shookspearefatherhood! Today is Isaac's installment and when I tell you I had such a lovely time writing this ^^

@sunshinejihyun my lil duckling, you asked me to tag you so here you go!

I hope that you all enjoy the mini series~

- JJ x

~~~~~~~~~~

The Second Star To The Right, Isaac Newton

It was a reasonably warm night in May when most of the residents had gone to bed and the mansion was filled with tranquility. However, the regular night owls were joined by a curious little visitor that night, his footsteps quietly padding around the floors even though it was far past his bedtime. James Newton clutched the soft knitted blanket his mother had made for him as he pitter-pattered down the long hallways, his cherry pink eyes simply gleaming with delight.

The five year old gently knocked on the door to his father's study, sure of the fact that he'd still be awake and waited patiently for an answer, rocking back and fourth on his heels.

"Come in," Isaac spoke quietly yet firmly as he looked up at the door from his papers, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. A look of slight surprise registered on the physicist's handsome face when his son bounded into the room with his blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. "James, what are you, oof-!" The little boy launched himself into his father's arms, giggling happily as he knocked the wind out of Isaac.

"Father, father, father!" James was absolutely giddy as he looked up at Isaac hopefully, "Father you said that we could go to watch the stars tonight!"

"By God, I suppose I did, didn't I?" Isaac responded thoughtfully, smiling sweetly as he slipped off his reading glasses and took James' little hand in his own, "Alright then, son. Let us go and stargaze."

As the pair travelled through the mansion gathering their supplies, they passed a particular door which made James tug his father's hand and stop, "Is mother not going to come too?"

Isaac gazed reluctantly at his and MC's bedroom door before turning his eyes to meet his son's expecting pair, "Your mother will be too tired to stargaze, James. She's been working very hard this week and needs her rest." Tears began to well up in James' pink eyes and he let out a little sniffle though, before he work himself up to cry and wail, Isaac knelt down to his son's height and hugged him closely, running his hand soothingly through James' ashy pink hair. "I'm sure that she'll join us on another night, alright?"

James had managed to calm himself down once he and his father had made it out onto the lawn and set up their telescopes and comfy blankets on the grass. The little boy's mouth hung agape and his eyes twinkled with wonder as his father helped him to identify all of the bright stars which hung in the navy night sky. Isaac wore a small, content smile when he saw the delight on his son's face and felt his chest grow warm with fondness. "Can you see that big bright star on the right there, James?" Isaac asked gently as he pointed up into the sky.

"Mhm - The brightest, most colourful star, right, father?"

"That's it. Its called Antares and it is in fact bigger than the sun."

"Woah, really?" James tightened his little hands around the telescope to get a better look at the wonderful sky before he turned face Isaac, "Father. Can I sit on your shoulders so I can try and catch a star? Please please please?"

Isaac's heart completely melted at his son's excitement and simply nodded before helping the little one up onto his shoulders, both of them giggling all the while.

"You've almost caught one, sweetheart." MC wandered over to the adorable scene and reached up to ruffle her son's ashy pink hair playfully as he grinned.

"Mother!" James squealed before practically launching himself into MC's arms, "Mother, me and father saw so many stars tonight."

"Did you now?" The lady replied as she cradled her darling son who was beginning to fall asleep against her shoulder. MC turned her gaze towards Isaac, a sweet smile gracing her delicate features, "You know," she said softly, "I'm so glad that he's just like you."

The brilliant scientist blushed bashfully as he played with his hair, his beautiful cherry pink eyes falling upon MC's enchanting expression, "H-he, well, he's the perfect combination of u-us both."

The couple tucked their son into bed and retreated to their own room, snuggling comfortably into bed together. After a short while, Isaac's sweet, tenor voice filled the pleasant silence, "I'm so lucky to have you both. I ... I love you so, MC." The vampire nudged his nose against the crook of his wife's neck before placing the most tender and loving of kisses against her skin, "You are the two most important stars in the world to me."

[danishmiilk]

when thunder splits the sky - na jaemin

au || royalty!au, soulmates!au

genre || angst, fluff, slight crack

warnings || swearing, death mentioned, almost deathly sickness, a lot of stress on jaemin and y/n’s part, throwing up.

summary || soulmates. the source of happiness, the source of sickness. you’re shocked that your best friend (and the second prince) is your soulmate, but it shouldn’t be too bad. after all, you’re best friends, right? you know each other better than anyone else in the world. but when jaemin refuses to realise his love, shit hits the fan.

word count || ~10k

note || this is a collaboration piece with @astroboy-lele​ for @k-dinernet​‘s dance off event!

you and jaemin were close, closer than a commoner and a prince should be. but since you were the main cook’s daughter, it wasn’t too uncommon to see the two of you running around with bright smiles lighting up your faces. then studies took over for jaemin. he was constantly studying to become a better king than his dad, which was slightly unfair since he wasn’t even the crown prince. but accidents could happen, so jaemin had to be prepared. so you were left to your own devices most of the time, fiddling with things in the kitchen, or helping clean the monstrous castle jaemin called home. 

“jaem!” you giggled happily when jaemin emerged from the library’s study. he looked tired. more tired than a 17 year old should be. dark circles contrasted his pale skin, and your hand automatically came up to rub at his slim cheeks. “you should get more rest.” you chided him.

“can’t.” jaemin responded curtly, removing your hands from his face. “i need to study.” 

"but you're always studying," you sighed. it shouldn't be this hard to spend time with your best friend, but you supposed it was one of the cons of befriending the second prince of your kingdom. 

"you don't understand, y/n! how could you? it's my duty to my family and my country to keep studying in case, heaven forbid, anything happens to doyoung hyung!" he snapped sharply at you, and though you knew he was clearly overstretched and stressed beyond anything you'd ever seen him (or didn't see him, he was always in the library nowadays anyway), you still took a step back and flinched away, hurt. jaemin stepped forward, mouth trying to form apologies. you shook your head, eyes glassy.

“don’t.” your voice was softer than expected. “i’ll.. i’ll leave you to it.” you ran off before jaemin could even react, wiping at your eyes. 

jaemin watched you go. he watched you leave, back retreating into the dark hallways. he felt bad, of course he did - jaemin would never snap at you for no good reason. the last time he actually wanted to hurt someone was when you came to him sobbing, one year ago. the memory was still fresh in jaemin’s mind. 

you supposed it could be you being too sensitive, but it was the toll the absence of jaemin took on you. sure, absence made the heart grow fonder, but it also did make cracks emerge in a friendship. you couldn’t see your cracks yet, but they’d emerge soon enough - it was the first time in so long you’d managed to talk to jaemin, and he’d just brushed you away brusquely. your hand raised to your eyes to wipe away the stray tears that had fallen. 

without looking where you were running, you’d bumped into something very solid. something very human. roughly, you placed your hands on said solid thing and pushed yourself away, speeding around the obstacle to the forest, tears still filling up your eyes. you didn’t blink them back - if you’d blinked, they were sure to have fallen out.

“y/n?” the very confused crown prince shouted out from somewhere behind you, “what’s going on?” and unbeknownst to you, his brother was soon to follow, brushing past him like he was invisible (last he checked, he wasn’t.) “jaemin?” the pair of you had left long before there was a chance to provide the prince with any of his requested answers, leaving a very confused doyoung standing in the middle of the hallway. sighing, doyoung brushed off his clothes. sometimes he didn’t know what he put up with you for. 

once you set foot into the forest, immediate regret almost washed over you. it started raining. not gently either, it came down in harsh droplets, hammering into your clothes, thoroughly soaking you to the bone. you shivered, rubbing your hands up and down your arms, trying to bring warmth to yourself. it didn’t work, so you settled with standing under a tree in an attempt to stay out of the storm. you gazed up at the sky, wincing as thunder rumbled in the distance, reminding you of your fears. you wished with all your might that the storm would stop. it didn’t. of course it didn’t. why would it, it was nature, and nature didn’t listen to common people, only the gods above. “y/n? y/n! oh my god, y/n!” you heard a shout echo through the forest, and you shivered again. “there you are, do you know how long i’ve been looking for you?” jaemin accused, hands grabbing at your shoulders. you glared back, though it wasn’t threatening as you were shaking and shivering, teeth chattering. “you know it’s the rainy season and almost winter! what the fuck were you thinking?” jaemin huffed, but shrugged off his coat and draped it around your shoulders gently, concern making his eyebrows knit together.

“it was sunny before.” you protested, and jaemin exhaled, shaking his head with disappointment at your naive actions. 

“you should know the weather changes quickly,” jaemin retorted, and that shut you up. you knew the weather changed fast, but emotions took over you, just wanting to escape the castle jaemin called home. “we should find some shelter. i know there’s an old cottage somewhere, i just don’t know where.” jaemin sighed. 

you raised your eyebrows at him, “what, it wouldn’t be some strange warped hansel and gretel remix going on, would it? because we’re not smart enough to push witches into ovens.” jaemin smiled widely, chuckling at your small jab at yourself and him.

“no, it’s completely safe.” he assured you, grabbing your hand. jaemin nervously cleared his throat. “uh… i, i should apologize for earlier. it wasn’t right for me to snap at you.” you squeezed his hand gently.

“i know you’re stressed, it’s okay. i really should be more lenient.” you sighed, slightly disappointed in yourself for not understanding your best friend’s struggles. his hair was sticking to his forehead, yours similarly sticking you your arms and neck. 

“it’s just the expectations, you know. of my parents, of the people… of the country.” jaemin’s eyes widened in horror and fear, an expression that would be almost comical under different circumstances and whispered, “what if i have to rule the country one day?”

your friend blanched and you sighed, tightening your hold around him to anchor him to reality, “look, i’m not saying you’re incapable of doing it, but it’s really quite impossible that something were to happen to doyoung, so i don’t think you really have to worry about that too much. still, being royalty is probably way harder than i could imagine.”

his voice wistful, jaemin’s eyes shined with tears - or perhaps it was just the rain creating illusions. “sometimes i wish i were never born into royalty. but you know what, there’s pros and cons to everything, that’s just how life is. we get privileges, but we can’t have the best of both worlds. still,” he looked down at the wet ground, “every time i see children running about or playing with their friends in courtyards or in the streets, it makes me wish i had a childhood. makes me wish i had friends, and was allowed to play with them, to live a normal life. normal. what a beautiful word, really, and how ironic that millions of people would give anything to be a member of the royal family, while the second prince would do anything to get out of being one.”

there wasn’t very much to say, you thought, considering jaemin very rarely went into long, emotional speeches like this one. you’d never be able to understand, and you weren’t about to try. softly, so very softly, you whispered, “but you have me.” jaemin smiled softly, and slightly proudly at you. 

“yeah. yeah, i do.” and he did. he’s always had you, from the first day he sneaked into the kitchen for a taste of his birthday cake before he was supposed to, until- well, there isn’t an until if you’ll have his back forever, is there?

a cottage was beginning to come into view in the distance, a quaint little thing fit for no more than one person (or perhaps seven dwarves, no reference to snow white intended). the rain blurred your vision and wind whipped through your hair, but it was shelter, and so hand in hand, you ran towards it.

“to what honour do i owe the presence of the second prince at my humble abode?” a boy’s voice, sweet and melodic, came from behind you.

you jumped. “jaemin! i thought you said it was safe.” you hissed, clutching at jaemins arms. jaemin just shrugged. you sighed, keeping an eye on the strange boy. jaemin gripped your hand tighter, however.  

jaemin gestured vaguely around, staring at the auburn-haired boy with no small amount of skepticism, “i thought you’d be… older. like, an old lady.”

the boy scoffed. “who’s to say i’m not? witches don’t always have to be middle aged ladies with no fashion sense and even less hair. i’m donghyuck, by the way. come on in.” jaemin was still looking the boy up and down in curiosity, finally blurting out, “witches use umbrellas?”

“no, we’re waterproof,” donghyuck deadpanned, sarcasm filling his words.

“jaemin,” you frowned, “do you know him?” a quick shake of his head confirmed your suspicions. “then why,” you half-screeched into his ear, “do you assume he’s safe?”

“i’m not. i could turn you into a frog, if you want.” the boy suggested, waving a hand, making you flinch and jaemin move your smaller frame behind him. donghyuck moved a shoulder evenly up and down, “joking.” 

“that wasn’t funny!” you gasped. donghyuck moved his other shoulder up and down, doing a strange half-shrug again, “nobody gets my humour.” 

you followed him into the house, dripping water all over his doormat and the wooden planks of his floor, but not daring to move any further than that. donghyuck waved his hand, slamming the wooden door shut behind you and lighting the fire, “will the two of you stop looking so shocked? it’s not like i’m going to cook you for dinner, so why are you acting like you’ve never seen a witch before?”

“because we haven’t,” the note of childlike curiosity reappeared in jaemin’s voice, and you were glad his mind was taken off of his royal duties, “they were outlawed a long time ago.” “right,” donghyuck levitated a couple mugs of cocoa over to you, “i forgot, sorry.”

“so your existence is basically illegal, and yet you’re serving the prince of your kingdom hot chocolate in the middle of the thunderstorm like nothing’s wrong?” you sputtered in disbelief, though you didn’t actually splutter, of course; that was rather an expression authors liked using. “all in a day’s work,” donghyuck glanced at you again, “come in and stop dripping water on the mat. would you believe it, magically drying the mat is harder than magically drying the wood.” very honestly, you didn’t know what to make of that boy. 

you stood awkwardly, pressing yourself into jaemin’s side as you watched donghyuck bustle around his house, ironically not unlike an old lady. “so, ummm, could you show us some magic or something?”

“like drying our clothes,” jaemin added, motioning to the soaked fabric draped over his body.

“they’ll dry, just sit by the fireplace. in the meantime, i can show you a soulmate spell if you’d like to see it. it’s one of the easier and prettier spells, so i think you’d enjoy it, even if it’s highly unlikely it would work. soulmates are rare things, and even rarer are soulmates who discover each other and the fact that they are soulmates. so i’ll do it, but if you two don’t turn out to be soulmates, don’t be disappointed. if you do, there isn’t going to be a flash of golden light and a shower of sequins either, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“you’re saying like what would happen is one of us would die and suddenly come back to life.” you sarcastically commented, but eyes growing wide as the moon above when donghyuck looked around nervously. 

“well…” he started, but you held up a hand. 

“excuse me, what. come again?”

“let me just show you.” donghyuck sighed, and got up, grabbing a book from the large shelf pushed against the wall. he flipped through a few pages carefully, and let out a satisfied “ah,” when he found the correct page in the yellowing book. “the concept of soulmates hath been the strongest bond known to man since the beginnings of time. for the true blossoming of true love takes place when the eyes of soulmates transform into colours of the fall. time and time again, history older than anything thou or i could ever imagine hast proven that soulmates are rare, ones who know about them even more so. for thee, the pair who is reading this, thou art soulmates. it would be an insult to fate and everyone who cannot experience such a connection to not realise your feelings. thou hath one month to realize feelings or one half of the pair will be fated to a cruel ending. as mere mortals, we do not make the rules. nobody can help thee except the other, but fear not. you are soulmates. you have a bond. said bond shalt be enough, if thou realises it.” haechan read, rubbing the thin, old pages of the book between careful fingers. you glanced over at jaemin who was shifting his weight back and forth, not knowing where to put his feet. “so, basically,” donghyuck started, ignoring jaemin’s nervous state. “if your soulmate doesn’t acknowledge their feelings for you, or you don’t, one of you would basically die.” he shrugged. your mouth dropped open. how in the world was he so calm about it? “what the fuck? they could die?” jaemin seemed to share your sentiment.

“what is a fuck?” donghyuck furrowed his eyebrows together, evidently confused as to what this strange new word meant. jaemin faltered, taken aback, “wait, dude, you look like you’re, what, seventeen, and you have no idea what fuck means?” donghyuck looked at jaemin like he was an idiot, “never gotten the chance to interact with a lot of other seventeen year olds.” jaemin nodded solemnly, “can relate. only got this loser for a friend.” jaemin hooked a thumb in your direction. you rolled your eyes. 

“let us begin the spell! i feel like i’m conducting a child gender reveal party,” he exclaimed happily, rubbing his hands together with glee. you held up your hand.

“hold the fuck up, you’re not performing this spell! one of us could DIE!” you exclaimed.

“there’s the word fuck again. kinda catchy.” donghyuck tested it out under his breath. “any other new words?” he asked. jaemin opened his mouth, no doubt to actually teach donghyuck how to swear, and well, you weren’t exactly opposed to letting him, but not dying came higher than teaching people you just met how to swear on your priority list.

“don’t worry. there’s only a slight chance that you’re soulmates anyway, and it’s better to know than to remain in oblivion. i’m not kidding.” “ignorance is bliss?” you suggested, desperate to stop donghyuck. “no, y/n. i think… if we indeed are soulmates, we deserve to know. i want to at least know why i died if i do suddenly die.”

“i have heard of that saying, y/n, was it? say, can fuck be used as a noun, a verb or an adjective?” “any way you want,” jaemin grinned, “reality can be anything you wish it to be!” “sweet,” donghyuck plonked a cauldron of unknown origin onto the table, “i like that word already.”

pulling a ladle out of seemingly nowhere, donghyuck pointed said ladle at you, “what’s your favourite flower?” you stared at him blankly, “you need that for the spell? i don’t really have a preference.” donghyuck rolled his eyes, “no, i was just curious. if you’re interested, your aura says daisy and jaemin’s absolutely screams carnations. for the record, i have zero idea what those flowers mean, but who cares?” he waved an arm over the cauldron which then proceeded to bubble, pushing dandelions and carnations to the surface. white. all white. “pretty enough, i suppose. i don’t usually give my services discounted, so you can just teach me some new words and it’s a deal.”

as you thought back, you did have a small memory of making flower crowns with jaemin. you often made daisy crowns, while jaemin’s were, as far as you knew, carnations. they were always given to you, all his carnation-based flower accessories: crowns, necklaces, bracelets. 

you were jerked back to the present and away from distant memories as jaemin helpfully, or not so helpfully, instructed donghyuck on how to swear, “so, motherfucker is a noun. the verb equivalent is motherfucking, but that’s usually used as an adjective anyway. can also be shortened to mf. bitch is a more female-specific curse word since its original meaning was something along the lines of female dog.”

“i thought dogs were nice,” donghyuck pointed a finger aggressively at the bubbling liquid inside the cauldron, flowers obscuring most of its contents, “this always takes way too fucking long to boil so i can’t do anything. how perfectly bitchy of it.” jaemin’s face lit up with that mischievous smile you were so used to, “you’re a natural!” “why, thank you.” you had to be imagining things. either that, or your ears were waterlogged. shaking your head wildly, all you got was a headache, so no, your ears weren’t waterlogged. and so the two boys before you were complimenting each other casually on their ability to swear, even as one’s existence was against the law and the other was the prince of your kingdom. because that was not… strange. not strange at all.

“why don’t you teach him things like crap, hell and damn? why… fuck and bitch?” donghyuck had settled into an armchair by the fire, snapping his fingers every minute or so to keep the cauldron’s contents boiling, “you want to learn the interesting shit. like, you know, if i can learn shit and motherfucker then why am i learning crap and hell and damn? they sound lame compared to bitch, fuck and shit.” donghyuck shrugged, you sighed, and jaemin nodded like he’d birthed and raised donghyuck for seventeen years just for this moment. 

“i mean, my parents don’t let me curse, but it’s fun to see them mad sometimes.” jaemin shrugged. you shook your head at the boy next to you (we shall omit the fact that he learnt half his curse words from you, and the other half from the legendary crown prince’s speech in which he accidentally swore half a dozen times in front of the whole nation. doyoung got grounded, but it made jaemin, and by extension you, developed a heck of a lot more respect for him.) you watched quietly as the two boys exchanged details about their lives and excitedly swore together. unconsciously, you started shivering again, your clothes still not quite dry. jaemin noticed, and picked up the blanket laid across his lap, wrapping it around your shoulders, making sure the blanket was secure around you before turning back to donghyuck. you learnt he also liked to be called haechan or hyuck, lived out here all his life, and didn’t know much about the kingdom from having to stay hidden from the world. jaemin’s expression held a hint of guilt, knowing that he was a member of the family that had caused huyck's plight.

“ooh! the spell is done!” hyuck clapped, and scrambled to his feet, once again doing the weird shrug thing, skipping over to the cauldron. his hair bounced and jaemin snickered while you quieted him. you shrank back into the couch as the sounds from the caldron became louder and donghyuck’s eyes started to sparkle. jaemin grabbed your hand, palms slightly sweaty. donghyuck peered into the large metal bowl, and smiled. his smile made you a bit uneasy. 

“ready?” he asked the two of you, and jaemin nodded while you hesitated. 

“yes.” 

nothing happened for a moment and haechan waved his hands over the flower-filled water, mumbling some ancient words. you watched, eyes wide, as the water came out in a stream, winding around the circumference of the small cottage, and then around you and jaemin’s hands. you gasped, as the water was ice cold though it was boiling just moments ago. a daisy settled on jaemins wrist, wrapping around it tightly. a carnation wrapped around your finger, like it’s own special promise to you. jaemin frowned.

“is that supposed to mean something?” he asked, tugging at the flower. it didn’t move or tear. haechan eyes doubled in size as his eyes zeroed in on the flowers. 

“you’re… you’re soulmates.” 

jaemin stood there in shock, and shook his head. “no way. we’re best friends.” he protested. your heart was slightly crushed, as you liked him for a few months now. who wouldn’t? “we can’t be soulmates. no way.” he shook his head again, as if to clear away the water clogging his ears. you let go of jaemin’s hand. your heart was hammering, matching the raindrops that pelted to the ground.

“are.. are you sure?” you asked, voice wavering. haechan nodded. your hands were shaking now, and jaemin was ignoring you. “can i… may i lie down?” you asked, twirling a finger around your long strands of hair. donghyuck nodded, pointing you to what you assumed to be his room. as you slipped off, you heard jaemin and donghyuck whisper something together.

the next few days you didn’t see much of jaemin, only when he came out of the library to get food. even those days were rare, as he often ate in there, or brought his lunch in during the morning. and each day, jaemins face looked more and more pale. the flowers had vanished, though they left marks on where they rested just a week ago. you cast a glance down the empty hallway to the library, feet hesitating. you made up your mind, pushing open the large oak doors and… found jaemin passed out on the ground. 

you gasped, rushing over and checking his temperature. it was abnormally normal, though he was sweating. you called a maid over, and soon you found yourself in the hospital wing. how were you going to break it to his parents that their younger son was sick because you two were soulmates. the thought itself was ridiculous.

“is jaemin okay?” well, fuck you, he’s obviously not. an undertone of worry was detected from the trained calmness of doyoung’s voice. the king and queen had yet to arrive, and doyoung stood behind you, hand resting on your shoulder in a slightly failed attempt to calm you. quick breaths left you, panic filling your mind and cluttering your lungs. the crown prince patted at your shoulder awkwardly, turning to leave as he couldn’t really do much. besides, it was fairly obvious the two of you needed to be alone.

as the day faded into night, jaemin was still, not moving as you watched him, hands grasping at your hair. this was all your fault. no, it was that bitch of a witch named donghyuck. he cast the spell. you wanted to blame jaemin for not accepting that you were soulmates, and now he was going to die because of it. 

obviously, you hadn’t had a soulmate before. but you could sense it, you knew that no matter what jaemin had done, you wouldn’t be able to stay mad at him. to love so hard you’re falling, but you know you’re flying. you’re not there yet, definitely not. there was an inkling of the possibility of that happening, though. you barely blamed jaemin for everything (which was mostly his fault anyway), and staring at the pale complexion of the boy in front of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to stay angry. you slipped your hand into his (see? can’t help it. this was all because you were soulmates, and totally not because you just wanted to.), and as storybook-esque as it was, it felt so right. a maid brought you dinner, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scoop the rice and noodles into your mouth. your stomach was protesting, but you didn’t care, resting your head on your arm, you clutched jaemin’s hand tightly. tears pricked at your eyes, and this time, you didn’t stop them. 

doyoung came by again in the morning and found you awake, dark blue and purple eyebags obnoxiously present. “have you been here the whole night?” you stretched, not letting go of jaemins limp hand, back aching from the uncomfortable position you were in for the whole night.

“is there a wrong answer?” you asked, yawning as you spoke. doyoung sighed, rubbing at his temples. 

“he’ll survive, y/n. it’s just sickness. we have the best doctor-”

“it’s not just a sickness!” you snapped, fire igniting in your stomach, the need to protect haechan slowly shrinking. you found yourself telling the oldest prince everything from getting caught in the rain, jaemin having a breakdown, the walk in the woods, to finding the cottage, and even the witch you encountered, though his existence was very much illegal. doyoung listened. he listened to every word, and nodded along, though his eyes were slowly going from panicked to angry.

“so, you found a witch, donghyuck, was it?” you nodded in confirmation, death gripping jaemin’'s hand. if he ever woke up he would for sure scold you for making his dominant hand ache. “he cast a soulmate spell, and jaemin didn’t accept. so now the gods are punishing him?” you nodded again. doyoung sighed, rubbing at his temples again. you watched anxiously, worried for donghyuck’s safety.

“could you get donghyuck to come here?” doyoung asked. that is not what you were expecting. blinking nervously, you nodded. you remembered the path jaemin took, right? if not, you could just shout. 

“do you promise not to kill him? or like, arrest him? he’s an annoying motherfucker, but i think jaemin would be sad if you did,” you inhaled. doyoung nodded with a perfectly straight face. “he could turn you into a frog.” you added, deciding to trust him. doyoung looked a bit shocked, but you reluctantly stood up. “i’ll be back.” you whispered to jaemin, leaving doyoung to look after his brother. 

setting off in the woods alone was scarier than you thought. shivering, you really wished you had jaemin in that moment. really wished. the sooner you got to donghyuck, the sooner he would be better, right? wrong.

“what do you mean you can’t remove the spell?” you shrieked, panic filling you once again. donghyuck looked sorrowful, and doyoung was standing with his arms crossed off in the corner. 

“i can’t, i’m sorry, y/n. jaemin has to realize he loves you for the sickness to go away. and either way, all my spell did was prove that the two of you were soulmates. the sickness stems from the heavens” 

“i have to what?” jaemin’s voice cracked slightly from not using it for the past few days. “jaemin!” you practically sobbed, hand clenching around his fingers from where you’d reached for them unknowingly. he squeezed back weakly, coughing. “what do i have to do?” 

“realize you love y/n.” haechan said simply. 

“i don’t think it works like that!” your voice came out slightly higher than usual, laughing nervously to stop jaemin from feeling uncomfortable. he had to, love didn’t work as such. you just didn’t decide to go, ‘okay today i have decided i love y/n!’ jaemin looked at donghyuck with visible confusion. all haechan offered was a half shrug in return. 

“what happens if i don’t?” jaemin whispered. haechan glanced at doyoung, nervous that someone so high and regal was standing in the same room as him - jaemin didn’t count, seeing as he’d spent the first hour of knowing hyuck teaching him to swear, and he wasn’t the crown prince anyway - if he did or said the wrong thing, he would definitely get executed. 

“we’ll get there when we get there. how long does he have?” doyoung asked. you gripped jaemin’s hand tighter, nervous of the answer. “it… depends?” donghyuck offered. doyoung scowled. “very helpful.” “i’m sorry, i’ve never had to deal with this kind of fuckery before,” donghyuck waved his hands around, “okay, swear i’m not doing magic, but i really didn’t cause any of this. okay. maybe a bit. but it would have happened anyways.” your eyebrow lifted. 

“what do you mean, anyways?” jaemin asked, frowning.

“the soulmate spell only helps the soulmates find each other. and gets the show on quicker, but a year from now, the same thing would’ve happened.” haechan explained, still waving a hand. doyoung’s eyebrows knitted together. “so, jaemin and y/n should spend as much time together as they can.” hyuck concluded. 

“and die faster?” jaemin snarled. haechan shook his head quickly, eyes straying to the other royal member in the room.

“no, if you spend more time together, then it’ll slow down until you realise you’re in love. usually, you get only a week, but if you spend every day together, it’s up to… a month?” haechan shrugged, letting the slightest hint of resentment slip into his voice, “maybe i’d know better if i actually could come out of hiding to be taught by more experienced witches. my work here seems to be done anyway, adios!” it was like donghyuck was born to be a showman. he ripped the curtains off and disappeared under them with a flash, letting the rich fabric settle slowly to the ground. doyoung sighed. 

“well, you guys heard what he said. spend as much time together as you can.” doyoung shrugged. “and jaemin, try not to die.” doyoung added, a small smile playing at his lips, like he knew something you didn’t. jaemin nodded, head thrown back onto the plush pillows. you frowned, jaemin usually loved to hang out with you. something definitely changed over the last few weeks.

try not to die, he said. well, you were definitely dying inside. and jaemin wasn’t getting any better, coughing, occasional throwing up, and sneezing. he barely could keep his food down, let alone sit up without any help. it worried you. it worried you a lot more than you let on. to say things were awkward was putting it lightly. everyone avoided the two of you, seeing the tension held over your and jaemin’s heads. you started to get fed up after a few days. 

“what happened? aren’t you supposed to be with jaemin?” doyoung asked as you stormed downstairs. 

“he’s not talking to me. what’s the harm in taking a small break?” you exhaled, running a hand through your now messy hair. doyoung frowned, the worry lines creasing his forehead. “don’t worry, i’m going back to the ward in half an hour. it’s just so… infuriating.” you ranted to the crown prince, resting your head on the stairwell railing. doyoung had stopped you half way down the stairs. “we’re soulmates for god's sake! can’t he just… talk to me? when did he start to see me as a bother? when did he… start to hate me? it’s like we never were friends. i miss him, doyoung. i miss my best friend. i miss his smile, his laugh, his weird antics, i miss my jaemin.” you whimpered, tears pricking your eyes for the third time today. jaemin being sick and ignoring you while, quite literally, on his deathbed did not help. especially since you two were soulmates. 

“when did you start to fall in love with him?” doyoung questioned softly. you thought for a moment. when did you truely start to love jaemin? not in the rain. not when you had your first fight when you saw him. no, it started a while ago. when jaemin started to grow up. when you stopped making flower jewelry and when he started to give you real gems. when? you weren’t exactly sure. maybe you always loved him. maybe he always loved you. but when would he figure that out? doyoung just nodded, understanding your confused gaze, unfocused and misty-eyed. he stood up, brushing his black slacks and deep red shirt. “give him a bit. jaemin is a bit slow with these kinds of things.” you only nodded in response, mindlessly walking back to the ward jaemin was residing in. 

jaemin still was not getting any better the next few days. he still refused to talk to you, only nodding or rolling his eyes as a response to you trying to start to converse. you were starting to lose hope. 

you were surprised to see him lying on the cold tiled ground. 

“jaemin, why are you on the ground? you should be in bed. it’s cold out.” you scolded, moving towards him. jaemin held up a hand, draping his hands over his stomach.

“the floor is nice and cold,” he uttered, sighing with relief as the tile cooled his sweaty body down. you frowned, huffing. jaemin, once again, did not listen.

“the ground is dirty. i can turn down the heat-” jaemin cut you off. 

“shut up! i’m dying, i don’t care if the ground is dirty!” jaemin hissed, and you backed up, saddened by his tone. jaemin didn’t notice, too busy coughing into his elbow to notice your state.

“you’re not going to die,” you whispered, and jaemin moved his elbow away. “you’re not. i refuse to let you. i don’t care if you don’t love me right now, but you’re my soulmate, jaemin. soulmate. do you know how many people wish to have soulmates? jaemin, i’ve been by your side since we were in diapers. we played in the mud together. we got in trouble together. we did everything together,  jaemin. i watched you grow up. i watched you become more responsible. i watched, and i waited for you to confess. but you never did, so now you’re sick, and it’s all your fault. don’t push the blame on me, on donghyuck, or on anyone. this is on you. if you want to sit here and wallow in your self-pity, go ahead. i’m tired, jaemin. i tried to give you time, but you only have three weeks left. i don’t…” you choked on your words. “i don’t know what i’ll do if you ever die suddenly.” you whispered, backing out of the door. jaemin struggled to his feet, but you were already gone, ends of your hair and dress flowing behind you. 

he stared at the empty spot where you’d been just moments before, feeling the same emptiness in his heart. bitterness welled up from within him. he wasn’t that dumb either, but love just didn’t work that way. just because some spell told you that you were soulmates didn’t necessarily mean that with a magical click of your fingers you’d stare into each others eyes and sappily declare your everlasting love.

doyoung stepped out from nowhere, looking around with a confused expression, “where’s y/n? i swear i saw her here just a few minutes ago.”

“hey, hyung.” doyoung hummed in response. jaemin sat up with some difficulty, holding a hand up to stop doyoung from trying to help him, “what if this sickness has got nothing to do with the soulmate fuckery? what if i just, uh, have the plague or something?”

“have the plague or something,” doyoung drawled sarcastically, “the last time the plague was going around was, like, a hundred years ago.” jaemin winced.

“or maybe i have cancer.”

“or maybe,” doyoung narrowed his eyes at his brother, “you’re just being a fatheaded dick who can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re soulmates with your best friend, and have to realise your love for each other so you don’t suddenly stop breathing!” doyoung stalked out of the room without a single word, pausing to seemingly contemplate whether slamming the (very heavy) oak door would help prove his point. he very intelligently settled on just stamping his foot. it made him look like a child, but jaemin hadn’t seen doyoung this upset in a while. and frankly, it got him thinking a bit. 

you walked into the hospital wing as usual without greeting jaemin. it wasn’t like you got a reply anyway. “hey,” the prince offered as you took up your usual spot by his bed with a book, a clear indication that you didn’t want conversation. 

your eyebrows twitched a little. granted, you weren’t expecting him to say anything, but it must be a testament to your friendship if your little blow up had at least gotten jaemin to think a little. you stared pointedly down at the book you didn’t even know the title of.

“y/n.” still no response. “you’re holding the book upside down,” jaemin sighed.

furious with yourself, you flipped the book the right side up again, “you don’t want to talk to me. stop forcing yourself to.”

“i do want to talk to you, okay? i don’t particularly want to die either, the soulmates idea is just hard to stomach.”

“what, does loving me sound so bad? am i so unlovable?” you slammed your book closed, trying not to choke on the shower of dust that came with it. logically, you shouldn’t be getting mad. jaemin was just trying to make things better, but he sounded so forced. “you sound so forced to do this, jaemin.”

“oh, are you getting mad at me now? you were sad because i wasn’t talking to you, and now you’re mad because i am! what the fuck am i supposed to do?” jaemin glared at you from underneath the covers, “i’m trying, okay? i thought you said you didn’t want me to die!”

“i don’t want you to die!” you hissed back at him, tears springing to your eyes again.

“are you crying again? if every time we talk you get that sad, then maybe you should just let me die!”

you dusted yourself off and ran out of the room, not even bothering to give jaemin an answer. why didn’t he get it? it’s not that hard to understand! (when else but) on your way out, you bumped into (who else but) doyoung, crying (what else but) angry tears. again. you really had to stop doing that.

to nobody in particular, doyoung whispered, “why are they so angsty?”

“we need to talk,” doyoung declared the moment he walked into the room in one of the pockets of time that you weren’t in it. jaemin looked up from the extremely interesting loose thread on his blanket and nodded, “what about?”

“y/n.”

jaemin’s expression darkened in a nanosecond. “no,” he practically growled, “not her again. i can figure this out myself, doyoung hyung! you don’t have to help me.”

“if you can figure this out yourself, the two of you wouldn’t be the embodiment of every sad angsty book ever written.”

“it’s our way of coping with things.” the words sounded fake even to jaemin’s own ears.

“no,” doyoung deadpanned, “don’t fuck around with me.” he hissed, “you know she cries every time you give her unwanted insults. let’s count how many times i ran into her, sometimes quite literally, in the hallway with her crying. one, the day you two got lost in the woods. two, when you were passed out and unresponsive, three, a few days after you woke up and weren’t talking to her, four, literally yesterday after you basically told her she was unlovable.” doyoung held up his fingers mockingly and it felt like jaemin had just been slapped in the face. “four times, na jaemin. four times you fucked up, four times y/n felt worthless, four times more than needed. four times. thats more than anything that happened in the last 16 years of your friendship. four times in less than a month. get your shit together, jaemin.” doyoung snapped, and spun around on his heel. jaemin felt like everyone was against him at this point. 

a week passes and hey, what did you know? some improvement was showing. you and jaemin could hold, an (albeit very awkward, but still) a conversation. it was a relief to you, but you were slightly suspicious of him. jaemin still couldn’t look you in the eyes, glancing away or inspecting his nails. but you couldn’t ask anymore of him, he went from straight out ignoring you, to asking how your day went. jaemin sent you a small smile, fiddling in his seat. 

“how… how are you?” jaemin asked, glancing at your features shyly. you smiled, though it felt more forced than genuine. 

“i’m good. have you been getting better?”

“well, you know. not really,” jaemin shrugged, not looking at you, “it hasn’t been getting worse either, though.”

you ignored the way jaemin was pointedly avoiding your gaze and offered a half smile you didn't really mean, “the weather isn’t very good today, is it?” the weather hadn’t been really good for the past week or so. even if you weren’t spending every waking (and sleeping) moment by jaemin’s side, you wouldn’t have been able to go out of the castle. the relentless rain pouring down on the windows made sure of that.

“y/n, i still think we have to talk.” jaemin’s expression turned serious, “i know i’ve been a dick these few weeks, and i’m not even going to try excusing myself for that. but i want you to know that no matter what, i still treasure you a lot as my best friend. i think i just need time - okay, admittedly we haven’t got very much of that left, about a week and a half or so, but i struggle with feelings. i really struggle a lot and it’s overwhelming and i miss you so much, i miss talking to you not-awkwardly and i want our old relationship back.”

you promised yourself you weren’t going to cry again, because god knows you’ve cried too much. “okay then,” you laughed lightly, “if you’re going to make this a deep sentimental talk, just know that i’m willing to wait for you for as long as you need. sadly this isn’t up to me.”

jaemin remained silent for a bit, taking in what you just said. when he spoke again, you were shocked. “do you think i love you?”

you cocked your head, “what i think doesn’t matter. the question is what do you think?”

“i want to know what you think.”

knowing he wasn’t going to let you go until you told him so, you sighed, “i think you do.”

“platonically or romantically?”

“my father wants my help in the kitchens, your highness. i’ll see you later.”

it was raining again, and you didn’t show up in his room like normal. jaemin was worried, and he got out of his bed clumsily, grabbing a cane, which he winced at. he looked like an old man with it. drawing back the heavy velvet curtains, the glass of his widow was covered in water droplets, all racing to the window sill. jaemin spotted you running around the courtyard, mouth open with a muted laugh and eyes sparkling even though you were soaked to the skin. jaemin found himself smiling, watching you with fond eyes. his senses kicked in, and he realized. he was truly, and utterly, with every fiber of his being, every cell in his body, in love with you. with his best friend. with the person who stuck by him all these years. who loved all his flaws and imperfections. he, na jaemin, second prince in line, never to sit on the throne (he didn’t mind that part), was in love with you. a cook's daughter, a commoner, but most importantly, his soulmate. 

when you came inside, your teeth were chattering and you were shivering all over, but it was the happiest you’d felt in a while. nothing was better than dancing in the rain, really, except dancing in the rain with jaemin. that now… that was a hundred times better, but na jaemin was sick, so you’d have to forgo that. practically waltzing into jaemin’s room, you grinned at him, your good mood making you forget all the awkwardness. he was just your best friend, your best friend of so many years. awkwardness who?

“jaems!” it might have been the prior realization of love making jaemin completely disregard any tension that might have been between the two of you earlier, but he grinned back at you just as happily as you’d greeted him, “y/n!” he frowned, pretending he hadn’t been watching you from his window just a few minutes prior because that was borderline creepy, “why are you all wet?”

“i danced in the rain. oh god, jaemin, do you remember that time when we were dancing together in the rain and then decided to use a banana leaf as an umbrella but we got wet anyway? and then-” 

“and then,” jaemin picked up seamlessly from where you left off, the grin not disappearing, “doyoung hyung came to check on us because he was scared we’d catch colds from running around in the rain all day. then we slipped and fell into the mud, splashing him all over.”

you laughed, a light tinkling sound that reminded jaemin again of why he loved you, “i swear the mud mask made his skin better.”

jaemin practically screeched with laughter, “you mean you’ve been looking at my brother’s skin?”

the overwhelming love and affection you felt for your best friend in that moment, both platonically and romantically, made you throw your arms around him, instantly soaking him through with your wet clothes. somehow, the two of you ended up sprawled on his bed. 

“you know what? i love you.” jaemin sighed, snuggling into your embrace. your ears burned red. 

“you.. you what?” you asked timidly. you really hoped jaemin said what you thought he said. jaemin smiled, leaning back more, adjusting the position the two of you were in. you now were snuggled into his chest, sighing as you felt your eyelids droop. jaemin chuckled lowly, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“i’ll be here when you wake up.” he whispered softly. you fell asleep, mind calm for once. 

“jaemin- okay, you can explain why y/n’s soaking your bedsheets through and the both of you are completely drenched in rainwater first,” doyoung arched an eyebrow, “have y’all finally gotten your shit together?”

“i think i love her, hyung,” jaemin’s arm curled protectively around you, “really.”

doyoung clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval, “you think? be sure of it, jaems. i’ve practically raised the two of you and watched you grow up, and now you say you only think you love her?”

“i love her.” jaemin struggled to hold back the laugh that was threatening to spill out of his chest. “i love her!” he repeated again, louder this time. seeing the finger doyoung had to his lips, he quietened down to prevent waking you up, “thank you, hyung. for knocking some sense into me.”

doyoung smiled, “anytime. it’s my job, after all. now, i think you two need some alone time. see you at dinner, i truly doubt you’ll still be sick.”

you were awakened by the sound of the door closing. rubbing your eyes tiredly, you looked around, disoriented, “did someone come in?”

“it’s nothing, y/n. just a servant. sleep, i love you.”

you yawned, “i love you too.” and you snuggled back under the covers with him, acting like it was the most natural thing to do in the world.

“hey,” jaemin whispered in your ear, waking you up gently, “i hate to have to wake you up, but dinner’s in a few. my parents want to see you too, apparently.”

you blinked the sleep away from your eyes, looking at his smiling face. waking up to jaemin’s smile was something you could get used to, you thought. “what?”

“i said, we have to go get ready for dinner. you too, yes, main banquet hall, my parents want to see you.”

your mouth dropped open, all thoughts of sleep gone, “i don’t have clothes suitable for a fancy dinner!”

“oh yes you do. wear that yellow dress with the sunflowers.”

“is that formal enough?”

“y/n, like, you’ve literally talked to my parents so many times. they watched you grow up. they’re not so different from doyoung and i.”

“but this is the first time meeting them as your girlfriend!” oh god, did you really just say that? you cringed inwardly. you hadn’t even put a label on the relationship yet. rushing to make amends, you stuttered out, “soulmate. i mean soulmate.”

“you’ve always been my soulmate. as for girlfriend, well, you can be if you want to, but we have explaining to do. now move! the entire bed is wet!”

with strength a sick person shouldn’t possess, jaemin threw you out of his bed playfully. you looked up in shock and happiness, “you’re well again! you’re not sick anymore!”

jaemin grinned down at you from his bed, “we realised our love. see you in twenty, adios, au revoir, zaijian, sayonara!” yelling at the top of his lungs, he pushed you out of his room and slammed the door, and you honestly couldn’t care less. you were flying (figuratively, of course), drunk on the sentiments of finally realising your feelings for your best friend and soulmate.

growing up in the castle had taught you some things about manners, especially when the queen insisted you attend some etiquette lessons together with jaemin (to keep him in check, she’d said). dropping into a deep curtsey in front of the royal family, you rose again when the king placed a warm hand on your shoulder, “get up, y/n. we’re all family here, there’s not need for such formalities. you never really did those before either.”

“i was eight and didn’t know much about manners,” you protested lightly as he steered you into your seat beside jaemin, then taking his own at the head of the table - the king’s seat.

you ate in silence and as fast as you could without being rude. nobody made a move to break the silence, so you sat and waited until the last of the plates had been cleared away by the servants, then leaned forward, “if it isn’t rude to ask, may i know why i’ve suddenly been called here for dinner?”

the queen smiled kindly at you, “of course not, dear. well, today we have two announcements to make, one of which concerns you.” she glanced at the king, who inclined his head at her with a smile as if to say “the floor is all yours, dear.” the queen turned back to you, and seeing the dying rays of last light hit her face, you were again reminded of how beautiful the queen was. “firstly, about doyoung. now, we all know that my dear son here is turning twenty one in a month’s time and has finished his education. and so, doyoung, my son, your father has decided to pass on the kingdom to you. the announcement to the people will happen in a few days’ time, if you agree, and the coronation shall be held on your birthday. you are a much beloved crown prince, and i am sure the news of your coronation will delight the kingdom. i do hope you accept. so,” she practically glowed with pride, staring at the shell-shocked prince, “do you?”

“it would be an honor, mother. but didn’t father say he enjoyed being king?” doyoung, the rightful heir to the throne and the one who’d been trained for this his entire life, looked shocked, to say the least. you couldn’t blame him; it must’ve felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

“your mother and i have long been dreaming of a proper honeymoon in the carribean. away from the eyes of the public,” his father’s voice boomed encouragingly.

“then yes, i accept,” doyoung’s eyes were shining with tears and you really hoped he wasn’t about to cry. knowing him, once he started crying, he wouldn’t stop and that would really… kill the mood. 

“cheers to king doyoung,” jaemin raised his glass of juice (seventeen is not of a legal age to consume alcohol) to the sky, looking elated for his brother, “and for heaven’s sake, king doyoung, don’t cry!”

doyoung sniffled a little, holding his own goblet of wine to his brother’s, “i won’t cry! thank you so much!”

“congratulations,” you grinned at doyoung, who’d been just as much your elder brother all these years as he’d been jaemin’s. just in the past month, he’d slapped the two of you so hard to get your shit together, and he should honestly be crowned fairy godmother of the year. except that he wasn’t old, didn’t have white hair pulled up into a bun, and (sadly) didn’t own wings.

“now for our second announcement. doyoung’s explained everything to us already, i hope you don’t mind.” doyoung grinned guiltily at you over the table - honestly! like he’d done anything wrong! “you’re obviously too young for marriage, but y/n, your parents, whom i’ve just talked to, and us - we give you all our blessings. let this relationship prosper!”

jaemin squeezed your hand in his assuringly with a victorious smile like he’d known all along that this would’ve happened. you choked back a sob of your own, “thank you! thank you so much.”

“we’ve never known that soulmates existed, but now that we do know, there isn’t a truer pair than you and y/n,” she addressed jaemin, “treat her well.”

“i swear, mother, you love her more than you love me,” jaemin half-groaned, ignoring his mother’s angelic smile and reply (“i do not! i merely prefer to be around her.”)

“to the new king and couple!” jaemin’s father raised his goblet for another cheer, and you downed your drink in one gulp. tilting your head to grin at jaemin, you thought there really couldn’t be any happier moment in the world.

©danishmiilk, 2020. ©astroboy-lele, 2020.