#in my defense it's just one print on her walls that were filled with prints!

[jattendschaton]

so there is an actress I follow on Instagram who posted a story of some artwork she had on her walls and she had a Ladynoir print! And I recognized the Ladynoir print! I already followed the artists and they're relatively small—only a thousand followers or so—and I thought it was so cool that this actress with 6m+ followers had their artwork on her walls! So I send the story to their DMs explaining that it's their artwork in the photo and how cool that is before realizing that, while the artwork looks very similar, it is not...the exact same...

Of course, I immediately try to unsend the message, but Instagram won't let me! There is no unsend option! Apparently you can only unsend a message after the person has accepted the message (WHY??) and just deleting the whole conversation on your end does nothing to delete it on theirs.

I feel like I am fully going insane at this point, I'm so embarrassed and anxious I feel sick, so I make my roommate do a series of experiments with me on her own IG account so I can figure out a workaround to get these messages deleted. Long story short, I have now blocked an artist I really like and can never unblock them lest my embarrassing messages become known :')

[shoutogepi]

Best Friends

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.7k

[ ☁︎ ]  angst

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : unrequited feelings :’( really brief mention of sex (not nsfw tho!) & also (underage?????) alcohol consumption! 

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : On your last night in the dorms, Shouto realizes he has feelings for you, his best friend. 

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : idk honestly i started writing this last night and was gonna abandon it... but then val tagged me in an angst ficrec and i was like ok well! this is a sign to post bc then i will have at least one sho angst on my masterlist lolll oops :o

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   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃onight was the last night in the dorms. Three long years had come and went, and now everyone’s belongings were cleaned out and secured away with cardboard and tape, leaving an empty wing that was currently filled with bodies, neon lights, and red solo cups. Music was pounding through the hallways, reaching every room and allowing no one total escape from the celebration.

You had been occupying the dance floor with Mina and Tsuyu for the last half hour, and now that you had sweat off the latest drink of the night, it was time for you to set off and find your more moderate-tempered companion. The pink-skinned girl wiggled her eyebrows at you when you alerted them of where you were heading off to, Tsuyu planting a love tap on your ass as you made your way from the swarm of people. The frog girl wasn’t usually so loose, but the alcohol that pumped through everyone’s veins had left only a select few unaffected. Tsu, just like you, was one of the ones that was happily allowing the weight of daily student life slip from her shoulders.

There were plenties of warm bodies swaying with the heavy bass rattling the hallways, shadows of couples and interested singles leaning against the walls, whispers and rowdy laughs echoing as the entire graduating class of UA partied the night away. Skimming by the line outside the bathroom, your feet found their way toward the end of the hall easily enough, taking the path you had so many times before.

A creak sounded as you pushed the cracked door open, the sight of the open shoji screen allowing moonlight to stream onto the bamboo mat floor which crunched quietly underneath your tentative steps.

“Shouto?” you whispered his name, eyes taking in the silhouettes of the packed boxes against the walls before you turned and saw a shadow sitting on the mattress beside the door.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Your voice jolted Shouto from his wandering thoughts, his attention turning to you right away. He seemed surprised to see you standing there, and he peered up at you from his slightly hunched position on the couch. He acknowledged you with your name, his voice low and steady. By the sound of it, you wondered briefly if he had even had a drop to drink tonight.

Blinking at him a few times, you tried to adjust your eyes to the contrast between the bright moonlight and dark shadows. When you could finally see the planes of his handsome, somber face, you spoke, trying your best not to slur. “What are you doing over here all by yourself?”

He paused, lagging for a second before the corners of his mouth curled and his eyes crinkled at the sight of you. “Just thinking,” he answered, examining you in that intrigued way he always did. After a moment he must have reached the conclusion that you were some level of smashed, for he patted the empty space next to him on the bed with a smirk and said, “Come sit with me.”

For a moment you wondered why he was alone, but then your brain caught up with you, and you realized that his other friends were probably busy with their own issues or endeavors. Ever since Midoriya finally grew a pair and asked Uraraka out, the two had been going at it like rabbits every spare second they had. And you could only imagine how busy Iida was as class rep, trying to keep the party at least a little bit under control. Momo was definitely helping him, and you had seen Bakugou begrudgingly holding Kaminari up with Kirishima under his other arm when you’d passed by them in the hall… Leaving only you to come and rouse the half and half hero from his solitude.

“Well that’s not allowed tonight!” You exclaimed, fist slapping against the side of your thigh. You would’ve used both hands for emphasis had the other not been occupied with a half-full plastic cup. Your legs felt like jello as you moved toward him, his cool hand wrapping around your arm to offer his support and steer you into the spot beside him. You almost fell but he held you up with the one arm, chuckling as your butt finally met the safety of the duvet.

“Thinking’s forbidden?” he laughed at your insistence, the sound rich and deep as his hand lingered on your wrist.

“Yes,” you nodded vehemently, pulling your hand away from his to cradle your precious cup and shooting him a playful, sideways glare.  “Brain turned off for the night. It’s in the fine print of the party rules, of course.”

Shouto gave you a funny look, eying you from the side. He repositioned himself, sitting upright and closing his eyes. It was hard for him to remain stoic when the quiet sound of your amused giggles tickled his ears, but he managed a nod before his eyes settled on you again. “Okay, I think it’s off.”

Conversation was always natural between the two of you, he never had to struggle to keep it flowing. And he liked talking with you, being in your presence. Which was the only reason why he was still entertaining this ridiculous charade.

“How do you feel?” you inquired, a goofy grin on your lips.

There was a twinkle in your eyes as you teased him, but Shouto held no qualms with your playfulness. Most people were still afraid to joke with him, believing that he was too obtuse to understand humor. Sure, he had struggled with the transition to school life in the beginning of their first year, but after you had transferred into their class second year, he found himself opening up even more than he already had.

“I feel�� the same.” The grin on his lips remained, his eyes settled on your drunken form. His gaze flicked to your smile, shining in the moonlight and making something twinge in his stomach. He cleared his throat, pushing down the feeling that haunted him every time he looked at you too long. “This doesn’t really work, does it?”

You pretended to entertain the thought for a moment, eyes rolling as you considered it animatedly before your lips broke into a beautiful smile again. “No,” you giggled, shoulders shrugging in your cute, drunken fit. “But it’s easier when you’re not sober!”

He turned, faux surprise hung from his brow. “You’re drunk?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice and splashed onto you where his jean-clad thigh brushed against yours.

“Shut up!” You punched at his shoulder and pushed him away from you, shuffling yourself in the process.

Your hair swished with the movement and suddenly the soft, sweet scent of you was crashing over him. He breathed it in shamelessly, allowing himself to indulge in the warm feeling that suddenly emanated through his chest.

“You could try it, if you wanted. It really does help,” you offered your cup to him, shrugging.

Shouto eyed the red plastic cup, hesitant. He really wasn’t one to drink, but then again, neither were you. Tonight was about celebrating your graduation from UA, opening the next chapter of your lives. The thing was, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to move on when it meant leaving all his relationships either behind him or pushed to the side. Okay, maybe he was kidding himself… there was only one person he would miss having in his daily life, and that person was sitting right beside him— the same one who was the source of his conflicted feelings.

“Or not!” your hand retreated and you took a little sip, the sweet jungle juice washing down your throat easily. “No pressure. It’s your choice, Sho.”

He nearly groaned at the nickname, the one he only allowed you to call him. Grabbing the cup from you, his calloused fingers brushed over your soft knuckles. He smirked at the excitement that surfaced in your gaze as he brought the lip of the cup to his mouth, emptying the contents in one long go. The liquid was sickly sweet, masking the bitter poison that entered his body alongside it.

“That was… truly disgusting.”

“Whaaat?” You balked, grabbing for the cup in dismay. He kept it out of reach, even though it was empty, setting it on the far table instead. “It’s good, I dunno what you’re on. It’s really, really good. Heheh, just like me…”

Shouto blushed at the innocent innuendo, looking at you as you closed your eyes and let out a noise between a sigh and a laugh. He gulped, realizing that the alcohol was already taking effect and he was beginning to slip under its influence. Your method of “turning your brain off” was proving to be much more effective with the alcohol’s aid, but that was a whole other issue which he failed to foresee. 

He usually preferred to keep his brain on and fully functioning, especially when he was alone, with you. That way, when you roused the butterflies in his stomach and pulled on his heartstrings, he could tell himself to just ignore it and focus on how important your friendship was to him. But now, his defenses were failing him, and there was nothing he could do to stop his heart from beating faster, palms getting clammier.  

“You’re good?” he reiterated quietly, watching the way your tongue swiped across your lips, enchanted by it.

You chortled, finding the thought entertaining, apparently. “Yes! I feel really good right now.”

“Ah,” he murmured, sitting back and allowing the pillow he had propped up to sink around his form. “I feel... kinda good, too.”

A mix between a laugh and a scoff escaped you at his confession. “You feel something already, Sho? Wow, that’s so efficient.”

Shouto didn’t really know what you meant by that, but he only smiled softly at the happy look on your face. He closed his eyes and listened to the fast rush of blood in his ears, the feeling of warmth prickling at his skin. He wasn’t drunk, per se, but he felt a little lighter than usual.

You had said that drinking would turn his brain off, but it seemed only part of it wasn’t functioning. The other side of his mind was working overtime, much to his chagrin. 

He was suddenly aware that this would be one of his last moments with you before everything would change. You were going to an internship not too far from his, only an hour away by train. But seeing you wouldn’t be nearly as easy as walking down the hallway… and it could only happen if the both of you found a time that worked and had the motivation to travel the distance to meet one another. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to do all that, just to see him.The realization hit him hard. 

No more sneaking to one another’s room and having whispered, midnight conversations. No more studying together and simply being in your presence. No more opportunities to let his gaze linger on you longingly, nor chances for him to grab your hand when your knuckles brushed against his in the middle of your walks. 

He felt sick at the thought of living without you. Maybe… maybe it was time for him to face his feelings head on. He had spent so long denying the recognition of them, the acceptance of them. The loss of you was imminent, unless he could finally force himself to say something, and it had to be soon.

As if you had picked up on his distress, you hummed quietly and shuffled closer to his side. His quirk spiked at the sudden proximity, heat flaring up as your head came to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m a sappy drunk, so I apologize for what I’m about to say,” you mumbled into his t-shirt, his skin prickling as your warm breath wandered through the seams and onto his skin. 

He huffed out a laugh to ease your worries, but he stayed absolutely still, unwilling to move a muscle in case it would somehow scare your body off of his. 

Then you whispered, “M’so lucky to have met you, Sho.”

Shouto choked on thin air, subtly wiping the moisture on his palms across the tops of his denim-covered thighs. Your scent surrounded him, and he couldn’t resist resting his head on top of yours, slowly breathing between your locks. “I… I feel the same, Y/n…”

It was quiet for another moment, his mind playing out a hundred ways to confess, trying to find the right words. Meanwhile, you were simply enjoying his reciprocation and the peacefulness of the quiet away from the party, completely unaware of his inner turmoil.

You sighed and he shivered as your breath scattered across his collarbone again, almost jumping when your fingers landed softly over his. How you remained so soft with their vigorous training, he had no clue. But your fingers felt so warm, so right lacing with his. His throat was thick with apprehension, a lump forming there as the seconds ticked by. It wasn’t often the two of you were sitting so close together, and he wondered if he was a piece of shit for thanking whatever God there was out there for you being kind of inebriated and so touchy right now. 

Slowly, he turned to look at you, eyes wide and conflicted, taking in how truly astonishing your beauty was up close. You lifted your head from your perch on his shoulder, gaze locking with his before your lips curled into a meek smile. Digits tightening around his, you squeezed his hand and rubbed your thumb across his knuckles.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, screaming at him to do something— anything— whatever it took for him to just form the words and tell you that he was in love with—

“Thank you for being my best friend.”

—you… He blinked, the words registering. 

You continued. “I know we’re moving away from each other, but I never wanna lose you. I cherish our friendship too much for that to happen, Shouto.”

Your words cut him. 

Friends. Friendship. 

His blood felt like it had frozen in his veins and he had become a statue, stock still as you carried on thoughtlessly, eyes now flickering over to the moon hung low in the indigo night sky. 

“Please promise me that we'll never change. We might grow as people, but… our friendship will stay intact, right? I don’t wanna grow apart.”

It hurt. 

Time had stopped and his lungs shriveled up, his body aching as if you had just lodged your knee straight into his ribs. His tongue tasted bitter suddenly, and he could almost hear the sound of his heart cracking.

But Shouto was good at hiding his emotions, years of compartmentalizing them giving him an edge that no one else he knew had. He kept his face neutral, even if it felt like he was withering and dying inside.

“I just… don’t ever wanna lose you.”

It was almost impossible to force his lips into a thin, hollow smile. But he managed, even if it felt like prying iron with a crowbar. He looked into your eyes and nodded.

He understood. To some extent, he truly understood. 

“I don’t want to lose you either, Y/n... Don’t worry,” he took a deep breath, forcing the next words out even if he felt like he was about to be sick.

He cherished his bond with you too much to risk chancing it, confessing to you, and throwing it all away after your certain rejection.  He loved you too much to ever hurt you, and he was too selfish to let go of you, too. The only one that would suffer from this was him, and he was alarmingly alright with that.

If it meant that he got to hold onto you, even for just a little bit longer. 

If it meant that you would be happy... Even if he wasn’t.

“We’ll always be friends... I promise.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

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˚‧º·(˃̣̣̥∩˂̣̣̥)‧º·˚ ˚‧º·(˃̣̣̥∩˂̣̣̥)‧º·˚ ˚‧º·(˃̣̣̥∩˂̣̣̥)‧º·˚ 

afJSNKJKDKJ WRITING ANGST FOR MY BABY IS SO HARD AHH I LOVE U SHO PLS... reader is so dumb to see u only as a friend i hate that dumb bitch  ughhh (TдT)

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 . 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Three’s Company

Summary: Naomi goes to lunch with the newest member of the diagnostic’s team.

A/N: Listen, I will not rest until Tobias and Ethan are friends again.

~v~

“It’s not going to be as bad as you’re making it out to be, Ethan. Above all else, Tobias Carrick is a doctor and a professional.”

Ethan resists the urge to roll his eyes at his girlfriend. This situation isn’t her fault, and it’s not like Naomi can help the fact that she’s optimistic. He still huffs under his breath though. “Being a doctor isn’t synonymous with being a professional. Trust me, Tobias is nothing of the sort.”

The news of Tobias Carrick not only coming to Edenbrook but also joining the diagnostics team hasn’t been well received. On top of a pretty tense exchange between Bloom and Ethan, Harper also made it known that she wasn’t a fan, thankfully not as outwardly as Ethan had.

Naomi however, has remained neutral. She doesn’t have history with Tobias like Harper and Ethan do, only knowing him through their biased second hand accounts. Ethan grumbled that he’s arrogant–though the same can be said about him as well–and selfish, but Naomi isn’t one to judge someone without knowing them. And besides, he pitched in to help save her last year, so for the time being, Tobias Carrick has a few brownie points with her.

“You’re being dramatic. He’s been a doctor as long as you have, he went to the same prestigious medical school that you did–”

“He graduated at number two,” Ethan interjects.

At that dig, Naomi huffs. “You’re being ridiculous. And petty, for no reason.”

“Bloom went over our heads and hired him, so I’m automatically suspicious. I apologize for not believing this wasn’t done specifically to annoy me.”

Naomi can concede to it being a bit suspicious, but she isn’t going to admit to this conspiracy of all roads leading back to Ethan. She’s not going to needlessly feed into his ego and rile him up.

The two of them continue their trek throughout the halls of Edenbrook in silence, their fingers loosely interlocked the entire way there. Naomi revels in it, because she knows it’s the calm before the storm.

Before they cross the threshold to the office, Naomi stops Ethan in his tracks. She cranes her head back so they can look each other in the eye. “Listen, like it or not, Tobias is here, and until he does something that warrants your hostility, at least be cordial. Our patients don’t deserve us at anything less than our best.”

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose, and silently counts to three, attempting to steel himself.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” Raising their joined hands, Naomi brushes a fleeting kiss across his knuckles. “Now stop pouting, Ramsey, we have work to do.”

Ethan untangles their hands only to open the door for Naomi. Once she steps inside she’s greeted with the sight of Tobias fiddling with Ethan’s coffee maker. He looks and flashes them a sly smile. “Mornin’, lovebirds! Ready to get to diagnosing?”

Ethan flashes Naomi a quick look. This is going to be a long day indeed.

~v~

So Tobias’s first day with the team wasn’t smooth sailing like Naomi wanted. Ethan and Harper made it clear that his former friend and roommate wasn’t wanted anywhere near the team, whether it be through passive aggressive eye rolls, thinly-veiled exasperated sighs, or outright aggression via Ethan that spiraled into a tense argument. Naomi remained neutral, corralling all of the attention back to the task at hand: helping their patient.

Naomi isn’t interested in spending another day babysitting these grown adults, so hopefully day 2 is a lot more smooth.

And so far, she seems to be getting her wish. Morning tasks were distributed without a fight, and after their morning huddle, Harper went downstairs to prep for a surgery she has coming up later. The remaining 3 members of the team are all in their own little corners of the office, Ethan typing away on his laptop, Tobias lounging on the couch, and Naomi sitting at their large desk, a pile of books and printed copies of online articles all spread out in front of her.

The words are all starting to blur together, her focus slipping away with each second that ticks on. Being in the office isn’t doing anything for her creativity or brainstorming power. She needs a break.

Naomi closes her textbook and pushes out of her seat, tired of studying. She makes her way over to Ethan’s desk, observing his hunched shoulders and the deep line between his brows. She rounds his desk until she’s standing directly in his line of vision. “You know what? I think it’s time to take a break. How about you and I get out of here and get something to eat?”

Ethan tears his eyes away from his computer screen long enough to look at Naomi. He frowns softly. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to take a raincheck. On top of the actual work I have to do for this team, Leland is demanding that I put together a presentation for the board meeting at the end of the week.”

“About what?”

“About the team. Cost versus benefit, outcomes, methodology, etc. Basically, he wants me to sell the diagnostics team to him all over again.”

“Sucks to be the boss at times?”

“De facto boss,” Ethan corrects. “Remember, this team is supposed to be a democracy now. Anyway, I want to get this presentation done as quickly as I can so I can stop thinking about it.”

“I could go for some lunch,” the third person in the room speaks up. Naomi and Ethan both turn around and see Tobias staring back at them. “Oh sorry, am I interrupting the private conversation the two of you are trying to have in our communal workspace?”

“What do you want, Carrick?”

Tobias’s eyes bounce back and forth between the couple. “Naomi wants to escape these four walls and get food. You aren’t available, and I am.” He shrugs. “What are you in the mood for, Valentine? I could go for some Italian, and there’s a good place a few blocks from here.”

“She’s not going to lunch with you,” Ethan grits out possessively. 

Naomi’s head whips around faster than she can stop herself. Since when did he get to make decisions on her behalf, especially when it’s not work related?

A small smirk settles on Tobias’s face. Naomi’s physical response to Ethan’s declaration does not go unnoticed by him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know your name was also Naomi Valentine. Whatever the case, I wasn’t speaking to you.”

“Naomi doesn’t–”

“Naomi doesn’t need an advocate to speak on her behalf because she’s an adult,” Naomi interjects sharply.

Whether she wants to accept or decline Tobias’s invitation to lunch, it’s her decision to make, not Ethan’s. His tumultuous relationship with Tobias is not her burden to bear, and he’s not going to force it upon her.

And just to prove it to him, Naomi turns around, her full attention back on Tobias, eyes alight with defiance. “You know what? Italian sounds delicious.”

~v~

20 minutes later, the unlikely duo is nestled into a corner booth of the Italian restaurant Tobias suggested. It’s a nice family owned joint that is currently experiencing a lunch rush. Every inch of the place is bustling with activity, the aromatic smell of sautéed garlic fills the air, soft music playing in the background. And while Naomi has yet to try the food, the restaurant is warm and inviting, and she likes it.

“You know, I’m really shocked you decided to take me up on my offer,” Tobias says, cutting into Naomi’s silent appraisal of their surroundings.

“I wasn’t going to turn down a free meal,” Naomi responds smoothly.

“A free meal?”

“Of course. You invited yourself, so you’re paying, Dr. Carrick. I’m thinking of ordering dessert, too.”

An easygoing smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as she speaks, and Tobias laughs. “I meant it because loverboy wasn’t too happy with it.”

“As much as I respect Ethan’s opinions on things, they don’t dictate my life. His issues with you have nothing to do with me, and if you think you can use me as a pawn to piss him off further, I’d advise you to think again.”

This young woman is brazen and full of sass. Tobias likes it. “It wasn’t my intention, I swear. It’s no secret that I’m not a welcomed member of the team, and you happen to be the only one who doesn’t roll your eyes or sneer whenever I speak. You are the closest thing I have to an...acquaintance, I guess.”

Naomi’s defenses deflate slightly at his shocking display of earnestness. She was expecting some display of bravado from the attending, so this has thrown her for a loop.

Tobias is nervous. She picks up on that energy almost instantly.

“Well like I said, their issues with you have nothing to do with me. I try to give everyone a fair shake.”

“I can respect that.”

“But in the interest of said fair shake, you have to answer a question for me. What are you doing here?”

“Here, in this restaurant?”

“At Edenbrook,” Naomi clarifies. “Kenmore is a level one trauma center, it was saved from getting snuffed out when it merged with Solomon, you guys stole my research candidate which brought in a lot of grant money. You had a decent gig there, so why did you come to Edenbrook? Why did you accept a position on Ethan’s team?”

Tobias shrugs. “I hit my threshold at Kenmore. I was at the top of the food chain, I had seen everything there was to see, done everything there was to do. I was...bored and restless. Edenbrook got injected with new blood, everything is new and exciting. Bloom said he wanted to take the team to new heights, and he offered me more money than I know what to do with to be a part of the vision.”

“Okay so who’s to say you’ll be satisfied just being a member of the team? How do I know you won’t attempt to stage a coup and take Ethan’s position?”

“Relax, sweetheart, I’m not gunning for your boyfriend’s spot.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart. There’s no need to be condescending.”

“I apologize. But Ethan’s spot on the team is safe. I don’t need Leland breathing down my neck and micromanaging me the way he does Ethan.”

Naomi’s eyes roam his face. He doesn’t have any tells, no eye shifting or twitching, no sudden movements with his hands or mouth, he doesn’t fidget in his seat. She has no reason to believe he’s lying, so she takes him at his word. “Okay.”

“Any other burning questions?”

“Why aren’t you and Ethan friends?”

Tobias doesn’t immediately answer, opting to take his sweet time to think on it. He pulls his lip in-between his teeth, before shrugging. “We’re too similar. Too driven, too ambitious, too stubborn. Two people can only go on the same path for so long before a collision happens.”

“It got ugly because you two wanted the same girl?”

Tobias scoffs. The faceless woman that he was adamant that he was in love with is at the bottom of his list of concerns. “She was just the tip of the iceberg.”

That manages to catch her interest. Naomi sits up in her seat and leans forward slightly. “So what happened?”

Naomi can see the exact moment that Tobias withdraws from the conversation. His posture gets stiff again and he averts his gaze.

“Okay, riddle me this, Carrick,” Naomi continues. “Ethan told me he reached out to you after you had your falling out, but you rebuffed him. Is that part true?”

“He called and asked if we could talk, I said no. I didn’t hear from him again until everything happened with Leland last year.”

“You didn’t want to make amends?”

Making amends and having his old friend back did sound nice once upon a time, but being friends with Ethan again means being in his shadow again. And that’s what led them to this whole thing in the first place. Tobias sighs and scrubs his hand across his jaw. He came here to eat a plate of ravioli and maybe annoy Ethan, not pour his heart out. What is it about Naomi Valentine and those big brown eyes of hers that makes him want to twist himself inside out and spill his guts? Is she some sort of siren?

“Making amends means I’d have to own up to my wrongdoings. I’d have to swallow the fact that I torpedoed our friendship,” Tobias confesses before he even realizes the words are out of his mouth. “Admitting fault and being vulnerable isn’t my strong suit.”

She doesn’t mean to, but Naomi giggles. And that giggle turns into a laugh. A loud one that attracts the attention of a few patrons, a hard feat to accomplish in the middle of a bustling restaurant, but she does it with ease.

“I’m sorry,” Naomi says once she finally calms down. She takes a deep breath before continuing. “God, no wonder you two were best friends. You are just as emotionally constipated as Ethan.”

“Emotionally constipated?” Tobias’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the blunt statement. And once the shock wears off, he laughs along with. “Touché, Valentine. Touché.”

~v~

Across the way, at the bar on the other side of the dining room, Ethan watches as his girlfriend and his former friend carry on like two bosom buddies. 

Ethan decided to follow them approximately 10 minutes after they left, sheer curiosity getting the better of him. Before he could stop himself, he was in his car and at the restaurant, seated far enough away from them so he’s out of their line of vision, but close enough to see.

Naomi is in the zone, talking excitedly and Tobias sits there, soaking it all up like what she says and does is gospel. Their friendly interaction stirs irritation in the pit of his stomach, but it’s when Naomi lets out a boisterous laugh does he reach his limit. Ethan’s grip on the small tumbler in his hand tightens, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t end up with a million tiny shards of glass in his palm.

What on earth has Tobias said to make Naomi laugh like that? And why is he laughing with her?

Ethan doesn’t like it one bit, for a multitude of reasons. He doesn’t like other men being around Naomi–it’s ridiculous and sexist of him to feel this way, but Ethan is a possessive caveman, and he makes no bones about it. Seeing her actually laughing with Carrick of all people and enjoying his company makes him want to throw the drink ware he’s currently holding.

Deciding enough is enough, Ethan slams the glass down onto the bar and stands up. After dropping a $20 bill on the counter he makes his way over to Naomi and Tobias, unadulterated jealousy and alcohol fueling every step.

Tobias notices him first, and he jerks his head in Ethan’s general direction in order to get Naomi’s attention. She turns around and her eyes go wide at the sight of Ethan.

“Ethan? What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood.”

Now her eyes are narrowed. “You finished that big presentation you had to work on?”

Ethan sniffs haughtily. Leave it to her to throw that back in his face. “I decided that a break was okay.”

“And you coincidentally ended up at this restaurant?”

“Yup.”

Naomi stands up, muttering a quick “excuse me,” in Tobias’s direction and grabs Ethan’s hand, pulling him away. They nestle into a quiet corner of the restaurant, far away from the table, closer to the kitchen. The door constantly swings open and closed, as the waitstaff goes in and out.

Once they get a moment of quiet, Naomi glares at Ethan, the expression on her face nothing short of annoyed. “Are you spying on me? Because spying on me implies that you don’t trust me.”

“What? Of course I trust you!”

“So what are you doing here, Ethan?”

Ethan bites the inside of his cheek and rocks on the balls of his feet. “Okay, so I was spying.” Naomi opens her mouth to say something, but Ethan beats her to the punch. “It’s not because I don’t trust you! It’s him that I don’t trust.”

“Tobias has been nothing short of a gentleman,” Naomi says and Ethan snorts. “He’s acting a lot of a lot more mature than you are, I can say that much.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is you treating him like he’s a criminal when he’s given you no reason to do so.”

“He’s given me plenty of reason, Naomi!”

“The last time we saw Tobias, I was near death and he helped save my life,” Naomi says, and that’s more than enough to get Ethan to shut up.

Ethan’s heart slams against his rib cage with enough force to make him think the organ is trying to leave his body. Months have passed since the assassination attempt, but the mention of it is enough to cause Ethan to go into a panic.

“And the time before that, we stole a patient right out from under him, and before that we got into a fight at a freaking hospital softball game,” Naomi continues. “You haven’t been all good, and he hasn’t been all bad, so stop pretending to have the moral high ground.”

“This past year, you made a lot of strides in your personal life. You battled a lot with your mom, but you came out of it, a more well rounded individual, so do not let Tobias’s presence cause you to backslide. I’m not saying he has to be your best friend, but I refuse to tolerate this type of nonsense past today.”

He takes a moment to digest what she’s saying, begrudgingly of course because he doesn’t really want to admit that he hasn’t been behaving like the mature, adult professional that he usually is.

Ethan nods and places a kiss on Naomi’s forehead, his lips lingering there.

“Are you listening to me?”

Ethan kisses the apples of her cheeks, inwardly smirking as he feels Naomi smile. “I promise you that I’ll keep myself in check from now on.”

“And if you don’t, I will.”

The threat causes Ethan to lose focus. She clearly doesn’t mean it in a seductive way, but he can’t help that his brain instantly goes to the gutter when she’s involved. Now he wants nothing more than to be alone with her, with any flat surface readily available.

“Yes ma’am,” Ethan murmurs before capturing her lips with his own.

Naomi doesn’t allow herself to get swept up in the kiss, because she knows Ethan is using it to distract her. She untangles herself from his grip and pulls away before he’s able to get any more leverage.

“Can we go back to the office now?” Ethan asks.

“Absolutely not. I came here to have lunch, so we’re having lunch.”

Ethan frowns. “You still want to go through with this?”

“I didn’t come here to teach you a lesson, and I’m actually enjoying Tobias’s company, so I’m staying. And you’re staying here too.”

“No.”

“You followed me here, you don’t have a choice.”

Ethan reluctantly follows Naomi back to the table, where Tobias is studying the menu. He doesn’t even look up when he hears footsteps approaching. “I’m debating on if I want the ravioli or the chicken parm, which one–” his voice falters as he sees Ethan.

“Look who’s decided to join us for lunch!” Naomi says brightly, steamrolling over the building tension. She pushes Ethan into an empty chair, not giving him a second to turn away.

Tobias opens his mouth to object, “But–”

“I’m going to head to the restroom,” Naomi says. “And one of you guys is ordering me a limoncello, because Tobias is treating.”

She flounces off, not giving either man a chance to respond or argue with her.

Tobias laughs. “Is she always like this? So bossy?”

“Naomi is unapologetically assertive,” Ethan corrects. “She makes no bones about it.”

“The scary part about it is I’m 100 percent going to order her a limoncello, because she’s not the type of person you say no to.”

This time it’s Ethan’s turn to laugh. It’s nice to know he’s not the only unsuspecting sap that cannot say no when Naomi turns on her charm.

Once the laughter tapers off, the former friends are plunged into silence. Ethan checks the time on his watch, watching the seconds stretch on. He needs Naomi to come back. Seriously, how long does it take to use the restroom? He spares a quick glance at Tobias, who’s pointedly not making eye contact with him either.

Eventually Tobias speaks up, “Look, I didn’t come to Edenbrook to cause any trouble. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity that came with more money than I could count.”

“Naveen started this team with the most honorable of intentions,” Ethan says. “This was his life’s work, and he entrusted me with it. You cannot possibly understand the loyalty I have to him, so forgive me if I’m extremely protective over it and skeptical of your motives, which haven’t always been pure.”

“I’m just here to save lives, and work on the most fascinating medical cases of our generation. I know how important this team is, and I’d never intentionally disrespect Naveen like that.”

Ethan nods. That’s all he can really ask of Tobias. “Then I guess we’re good.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

Another beat of silence passes and Tobias awkwardly drums his fingers along the stem of his water glass. “So...you and Valentine?”

The question is out of left field and Ethan’s brows furrow in confusion. “Uh, yeah, me and Valentine.”

“I like her,” Tobias says definitively. When Ethan glares at him, Tobias rolls his eyes. “Not like that. Relax, I get it loud and clear that she’s off limits. Besides, I know you’re head over heels in love with her.”

A scarlet flush creeps up Ethan’s neck at Tobias’s matter of fact declaration. “Love? I’m...we don’t...I don’t–”

Tobias smirks. “Oh man. You’ve got it bad.”

That much, Ethan is willing to share. “Yeah, I do.”

“Naomi did say we’re both emotionally constipated, and that blubbering you just did proves her point,” Tobias teases. “But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

The L-word has floated around in the back of Ethan’s mind for months, but he’s always been able to squash it down, locking it away in the deepest recesses of his brain. But hearing someone else say it is something entirely different. Ethan can’t run away from the thought.

Tobias has known since last year. He suspected something when Ethan came to defense during the softball game, but it was confirmed as soon as he saw them together after the incident with the senator. He had never seen Ethan so out of sorts, not even when they competed for the affections of the same woman back in school. Naomi is different. She has the power to bring Ethan to his knees.

“I hope you know that you’re punching way above your weight with that one,” Tobias adds teasingly.

It’s something Ethan thinks about constantly. Naomi could do so much better than him, but every day she chooses him. “Absolutely.”

“And for what it’s worth, she’s just as much into you. The woman gives you heart eyes whenever you’re around. It’s disgusting, to be quite frank.”

The sentence warms Ethan from the inside out. He’ll never get over knowing Naomi wants him just as much as he wants her.

Thankfully Naomi chooses that moment to come back to the table, giving the men something else to focus their attention on. She settles into a seat next to Ethan, and he immediately wraps an arm around her, his fingertips stroking her arm. Tobias observes the fleeting moment of intimacy with a private smile.

Naomi’s eyes flicker back and forth between the men. “Everything okay over here?”

Tobias and Ethan both look at each other, a silent moment of understanding passing between them. Ethan nods. “Everything is fine.”

Naomi smiles. Maybe there’s hope for them yet. “Good. Now let’s flag down a waiter and get some food.”

~v~

Tags: @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

[expectingtofly]

Sign Here

AU-Modern Setting, Meet-Cute, Dean is a UPS Driver, Cas and Dean are idiots, Gabe is trying to help

4k (oops this fic got long)

also posted on ao3

written for Day 2 of @starrynightdeancas 2k Followers Celebration <3 <3

Castiel knelt on the grass to pull up some stubborn weeds in the garden lining the front of his newly-bought house. The previous inhabitants had left behind a tangled mess of rose bushes and weeds, and after a week of unpacking boxes, he was happy to finally have time to spend outside. One of the perks of moving from an apartment to a small bungalow—finally space for a garden. Although, he was sure the inside of his house would soon become just as packed with plants as his apartment had been.

Engrossed as he was in weeding and planning what flowers he would plant to expand the garden, he didn’t hear someone approach until a shadow fell over the dirt. 

Startling, he looked up to see a man standing on the walkway next to him. “What—oh.” By the man’s clothes—brown collared shirt and shorts—and the package he was holding, Castiel realized he was a UPS delivery driver. “Hello.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the driver said, fighting back a smile.

Castiel stood, brushing dirt off his hands. “It’s alright.” 

The man held out a package. “I was gonna deliver this to your front door, unless you want to take it now.”

“Yes, thank you.” Taking it, Castiel looked down at the label, trying to remember what he had ordered. Something for his kitchen, probably.

“Did you just move in?” the UPS driver asked. His eyes were very green, a spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. Freckles everywhere, Castiel realized, seeing the way they lightly spotted his bare arms. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

Realizing he was staring, Castiel reddened, glanced down at the package in his hands. “Uh, yes, I did. Last week.”

“Welcome to Bloomfield, then.” He nodded at the rose bushes. “Nice garden you got here.”

“You don’t have to lie, it’s a mess.” The driver laughed and Castiel smiled a little. “It’s not much now. Hopefully I’ll be able to fix it up soon.”

“I’ll keep an eye out, see how things develop.” The man took a step back and gestured to the UPS truck on the street. “I’ve got other packages to deliver. Nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Castiel said, watching him leave. Kneeling down to continue yanking out the prickly weeds, he smiled. It was nice to meet someone friendly; he hadn’t gotten to meet many people yet with the chaos of moving in. Of course, he thought, glancing back at the UPS truck as it rumbled down the street, it didn’t hurt that the driver was extremely attractive as well. 

***

The next week, Castiel was hanging up art prints in his living room when he heard the doorbell ring. Assuming it was for a package he’d ordered, he took his time getting to the door, straightening the print on the wall before weaving through the cardboard boxes he still hadn’t unpacked. 

When he opened the front door, however, he was surprised to see the green-eyed UPS driver standing on his porch holding the package.

The man’s face brightened. “Hi. Got a delivery for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, opening the door wider. “I didn’t realize you were waiting. I thought you delivery drivers just dropped off the package and disappeared.”

The UPS driver laughed. Such a nice laugh, Castiel thought. “Right, yeah, that’s what we normally do. But, uh, we have a new policy. Have to get a signature for packages.” He handed over a clipboard and pen, pointing to the line at the bottom of the page. "Just sign here."

“Oh. Alright.” Castiel took the clipboard and signed his name. When he handed it back, he saw the man glance at the signature. “Castiel,” he supplied.

“Cool name. I’m Dean.” 

“Nice to meet you, Dean.” Having been occupied all week with moving in and subsequently starved for conversation, he added, “You’re one of the first people I’ve met so far. The other being a cashier at that grocery store down the street.”

“Still getting settled in?”

“Yes. It’s taking much longer than I anticipated. I hate unpacking. It never seems to end.”

“Yeah, moving’s a bitch. You liking the place so far, though?”

Castiel nodded. “I do. Much improved from the apartment where I was living before.”

“God, I bet. I share an apartment with my brother—don’t get me wrong, I like living with him, but our landlord’s an asshole.” He gestured to the right. “Garden’s looking great.”

“Thank you. I just bought petunias, but I haven’t had a chance to plant them.” He pointed at the small brown box Dean was still holding. “That should be new gardening gloves in there.”

“Oh, right, your package.” Dean’s face looked a little red as he handed the box over. “Um, well, I should be on my way. See ya.” He stepped off the porch with a wave and Castiel waved back before going inside. 

As he unpacked his belongings, he realized filling a house was harder than he’d thought. There were so many household items he was missing. Perhaps a trip to the store would be faster, but ordering online was easier—or so he told himself as he opened his laptop.  

I’m only trying to save myself time, he reasoned, though inwardly he might have been hoping Dean would deliver the package. 

Though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he found himself growing more impatient over the next few days. Then, one afternoon as he organized his silverware drawer, he heard the doorbell ring. He practically ran to the front door, then paused and steadied himself before opening it, waiting a few seconds so it wouldn’t seem like he’d rushed over.  

It might not even be Dean, he chastised himself as he unlocked the door. 

Dean smiled at him when he swung the door wide.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, trying to sound casual and hide his smile.

“Hi.” He looked to be about Castiel’s age. What were the chances that someone this attractive was single? “Got another package. A heavy one this time.” 

Pushing away those thoughts, Castiel took it from him and placed it inside on the floor. “Thank you. Don’t I have to sign something?”

“Uh, shit, yeah.” Dean handed over the clipboard and pen, and as Castiel signed, he nodded at the package. “Something else for the garden?”

Castiel shook his head, handing back the clipboard. “A mixer. I thought maybe I could try my hand at baking. My mom sent me a few of her recipes.”

Dean’s eyes brightened. “You ever want inspiration, there’s a diner, other side of town, a few blocks from where I live, that makes the best pie. Makes them fresh every morning.”

“I’ll have to go sometime.” He stopped short of saying that maybe he’d see Dean there, not wanting to sound too excited at the prospect.

Maybe I should order more things for the kitchen, he thought, shutting the door after saying goodbye to Dean. Or a new bath mat, and curtains, maybe. The boxes he had yet to unpack scolded him by their presence, but he ignored them. If receiving new items meant talking to a friendly face, who could blame him? 

***

“You sure get a lot of packages,” Dean remarked the next week when Castiel opened the door. 

Castiel reddened. “Turns out it’s hard to fill a whole house.” 

“I’m not complaining, you’re the one giving me a job to do.” Dean handed over the package. “What’s it this week?”

“A watering can.”

“You really like to garden, don’t you?” Dean gestured to the flowers and plants lining the front of the house. “I mean, you’ve added a lot since moving in.”

“Yes, well, I find it’s a wonderful way to wind down after work.”

Dean nodded. “I get that. Any spare time I have, I work on my car.”

Castiel glanced at the UPS truck, because he hadn’t really considered Dean driving anything else. His heart beat a little faster at the thought of running into Dean somewhere else, at the diner, at the grocery store. He wondered how Dean dressed when he wasn’t in his uniform, what else he did in his free time.

Dean followed his gaze to the street and gestured to the UPS truck. “This thing, it’s crap. No AC, no radio. What do you drive?” He glanced at Castiel’s driveway. “That a Lincoln Continental? 78? 77?”

Castiel caught the derisive tone in his voice. “78. And I like it,” he added defensively.

Dean smiled, raising his hands. “Eye of the beholder, I guess. You ever need work done on it, let me know, I can help.” His eyes widened a little at his own words. “I mean, you don’t need to, I just meant, if you want. I’m good at that stuff.”

“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate the offer.” Inwardly, he cursed his car for being so reliable. Maybe the engine light would turn on and he could take him up on his offer. Or maybe Dean was only being friendly and didn’t really mean it. 

When Dean headed back to his truck and Castiel shut the door, he realized Dean hadn’t asked him to sign anything. Maybe he’d only forgotten. 

***

“Gotten acquainted with the locals?” Gabriel asked a few nights later when he called to see how Castiel was settling in.

“I talked with one of my neighbors yesterday. Arla. She’s eighty-two and owns three cats.” Leaning against the kitchen counter, Castiel glanced at the mixer. “And, uh, I did meet someone else. Someone my age, not a neighbor. Dean.”

“Met someone? Like went on a date with—”

“No, he works for the UPS, he’s been delivering my packages.” He was interrupted by Gabriel laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“So instead of going out and meeting real people, you’re making friends with the delivery guy.”

“Dean is real,” Castiel protested. “He’s very kind and friendly. And helpful. He’s told me about places to check out in town and complimented my garden—”

“Damn, Cas, sounds like you really like this guy.”

“No, he’s just a nice person,” Castiel insisted. By Gabriel’s laughter, he knew he wasn’t being believable. “Alright, fine. I enjoy talking to him.” He wasn’t going to tell Gabriel that seeing Dean was becoming his favorite part of the week.

“He single?”

“Um. Yes.” He may or may not have asked Arla if she knew Dean, and may or may not have learned that she couldn’t believe “a charming young man like him is still single.” Oh, and that if she were a younger woman, she would be ordering packages left and right to flirt with him when he delivered. Castiel did not appreciate that last part, even if Arla had no idea how close to the truth she’d struck. I’m not flirting, he argued inwardly.

“Well, are you going to make a move or not?” When Castiel didn’t respond right away, Gabriel added, “Right, I forgot who I’m talking to.”

“I might,” Castiel protested. “But we only just met. And I don’t even know if he likes me. He’s only doing his job.”

“May as well ask him out, see what he says.” 

Castiel sighed. “I don’t want to rush into anything. I only just moved here.”

“Well, you snooze, you lose, Cas. Don’t miss out on something just because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared!”

I’m not scared, he repeated to himself when he said goodbye and hung up the phone. He was being reasonable. But maybe Gabriel was right. Dean had to be somewhat interested—delivery guys didn’t just stick around to talk after delivering a package. Maybe he’d test the waters, try to see if Dean was truly interested or just being friendly.

***

A few days later, he was watering his petunias when Dean got out of his truck with another package.

“Hey, Cas!” he called. 

“Hello, Dean.” Setting down his water can, he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Thank you,” he said, taking the narrow box from Dean. Before he lost his courage, he spoke up, “I, um, made a pie this morning.” Whether he’d made it specifically to offer to Dean was something he’d never admit to anyone, much less himself. “I was wondering if you wanted a slice? You can tell me if it’s good or not.”

Dean broke into a grin. “Shit, Cas, really? Yeah, thanks.”

“Wait here, I’ll grab it.”

When he returned to the doorway with a paper plate covered in foil, he caught Dean looking inside his house. 

“It’s still a mess in here,” Castiel said, handing the plate over. “I’ve been kinda busy with work.”

“No, yeah, totally, no judgement.” He peeled back the foil and inhaled. “Fuck, I’m starving. This looks amazing.” Picking up the slice, he took a bite. “Mmm,” he said, rolling his eyes back. 

“Good?” Castiel asked, amused. 

“So good,” Dean said, his voice muffled. He swallowed. “You’re a natural.” 

“Thank you. I have more, if you’d like it.”

“Don’t tempt me. Yes.” 

Grinning, Castiel went back inside and packaged up two more slices, brought them to Dean.

“You’re an angel,” Dean said. “Seriously.” He juggled the plates in his hands. “So, where do you work?”

Castiel leaned on the doorway. “I work here. I’m an editor. I do freelance work.”

“Dude, that’s cool. Nice that you get to work from home.” Looking down at his watch, he swore quietly. “Sorry, I need to keep moving. I’ve got a lot of deliveries today.” 

“Oh,” Castiel said, disappointed, straightening. “Alright. Sorry for keeping you so long.”

“No problem, this was a nice break.” He stepped off the walkway. “Thanks for the pie.”

“You’re welcome.” Ask him for his number. Ask him if he would like to go out. But he kept quiet and watched Dean cross the yard back to his truck. 

***

That night, Castiel ordered a set of bookends shaped like trees. He checked his email the next few days, tracking the package. On the day it was to be delivered, he had to run errands and got stuck in traffic. When he pulled into his driveway, he saw a package sitting on the front porch. Shit. He’d missed Dean. 

Grabbing his bag of groceries, he walked over and picked up the package with his free hand. Then he noticed a note taped to the top. 

Sorry I missed you, it read. The pie was incredible.

Castiel smiled. 

***

Sunlight streamed through his living room windows as Castiel organized his books on his bookshelves. He was just pushing his new bookends into place when the doorbell rang. Frowning, he went to the front door and looked out through the window. Dean?

“Hello, Dean,” he said, opening the door. “I wasn’t expecting a package today.” 

“Oh, really?” Dean looked like he was fighting back a smile as he turned around the cardboard box in his hands. Bold black letters were written across the front: SAY HI TO DEAN FOR ME.

Castiel’s eyes widened and he snatched the box out of Dean’s hands. “What? I don’t know how—” He scanned the box for the label. Gabriel, he realized. “It’s my brother,” he explained. “I was telling him about you, he must’ve sent me this to embarrass me, I’m so sorry.”

Dean’s smile won out. “No, it’s fine, that’s kinda hilarious.” He shifted his stance, the wooden porch boards creaking. “You, uh, you told him about me?”

Castiel’s head snapped up from glaring at Gabe’s name on the return label. “Um, yes,” he faltered. “Well, I was just telling him that I met someone, and it’s been nice to, uh, uh, have a friend.” 

Friend? He hardly knew Dean, for fuck’s sake. For all he knew, he was just a random person Dean spoke to occasionally on his route, no more important than Arla or any of the other people he delivered to.

But Dean smiled. “Yeah, uh, me too. I mean, I like meeting people on my route, just makes the day a lot better when I get to stop and talk.” He reddened a little and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down at his boots.

“I hope I don’t keep you from your other deliveries,” Castiel said.

Dean waved his hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I get the other ones done fast so I can spend more time here.” He cut himself off and reddened even further, as if realizing what he was admitting. 

So, Dean was deliberately trying to see him, talk to him. Castiel felt his face heat up as well. “I’m sure delivering packages all day can be very boring,” he offered. 

Dean nodded quickly. “Yeah, ya know, it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Besides, I’m just trying to make sure this neighborhood’s newest resident is doing okay.” He grinned. “Think of me as the welcome committee.”

“Well, I appreciate it. Really.”

Dean nodded again, and they stood there awkwardly for a few long moments. Castiel glanced back down at the box, Gabe’s words ringing in his head. Ask him out, see what he says.

“I’ll get on my way,” Dean said, stepping back. He smiled a little. “Tell your brother I said hi.”

“I will.” Maybe he should just blurt it out. Dean had said he enjoyed stopping by here. But maybe he only meant that in a friendly way. Castiel had called him a friend, after all. He chickened out. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.” Dean walked away and Castiel glared down at the box. 

“Not helpful,” he told it.

***

“Gabe, I hate you.”

“What? I was just trying to spark conversation between you two—”

“I hate you. I can hold a conversation well enough myself, thank you very much. You only made things awkward.” He paused before adding, “Dean says hi, by the way.”

Gabriel cheered and Castiel pulled his phone away from his ear. “So it worked? You asked him out?”

“Um...” Castiel pulled at a rip on his gardening jeans. “No.”

“Cassie!” Gabriel whined. “I did all that work for nothing? What’s the holdup? Ask him out.”

Castiel groaned. “I will. Eventually. But, I mean, can he even say yes? He’s on the job—”

“Cas, he’s already taking time out of his workday to talk to you. Pretty sure he’ll say yes, even if he’s working. Stop making excuses.”

“Fine. I’ll ask him.” He only said it to get Gabriel off his back, but his palms grew sweaty even thinking about it. 

“You better. Keep me updated.”

“Only if you never pull a prank like that again.”

“I can’t promise anything.” 

***

Seated at his desk, Castiel frowned at an awkwardly worded sentence that refused to form itself into any coherency. Was the past tense of lie lay or laid? Why couldn’t he ever remember? 

The doorbell ringing drew his attention and, grateful for the break, he saved the document he was editing and got up. Going to the front door, he wondered if he had any left-over pie to give Dean and drag out their time together in the doorway.

Opening the door, he began to say hello, then paused. A UPS delivery man was walking away to his truck, a package at Castiel’s feet on his front porch. 

“Wait!” Castiel called, stepping outside. The man turned—not Dean. Someone he’d never seen before. “Who the hell are you?”

The man looked startled. “I, uh, I’m a delivery—”

“No, sorry.” Castiel flushed. “Where’s Dean?”

“Dean?” The man frowned. “I don’t know who that is. We all got new routes a few days ago. He must be on another route now.”

Castiel’s heart sank. “Oh.” Another route? He looked down at the package. “Don’t I have to sign something?”

“No, you’re all good. We don’t require signatures.” The man continued to his truck and Castiel picked up the package. A lattice pastry roller to make more intricate pie crusts. He’d thought Dean might appreciate the effort.

Shutting the door, he stood in the foyer for a moment. So, Dean was gone. Why hadn’t he ever asked for Dean’s number? He’d had plenty of opportunities.

It’s a small town, he reasoned. I’ll see him again, I have to. He knew Dean lived on the other side of town, maybe if he drove around there, kept an eye out—

Alright, stop, he told himself. He was starting to sound crazy. He dropped the package off on the kitchen table. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

***

The next day, Castiel was seated at his desk, sending an email to a client, when the doorbell rang. 

His pulse sped up, and instinctively he rose from his chair. Then he remembered that Dean didn’t deliver to his house anymore. Sighing, he sat back down. 

He’d been trying not to think of it, but every other item in his house—the mixer, the bookends, the pastry roller—only reminded him of Dean and brought down his mood. 

Why didn’t I take Gabe’s advice? he bemoaned inwardly. That was a thought he never thought he’d have, but it looked like Gabe had been right. He’d lost his chance.  

Staring at his computer screen, he tried to focus on his work, but the distraction had ruined his focus. At least I’ll save money, he reasoned ruefully, now that he had no excuse for making random purchases. 

The doorbell rang again and he lifted his head, frowning. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember ordering anything. Maybe it was Arla, coming over to say hello.  

Rising, he went to the front door and tried to remember the name of that diner Dean had told him about. Maybe he’d stake out there on a weekend, see if Dean showed up. Or was that creepy?

Definitely creepy, he decided with a sigh, opening the door. Then he froze.

“Dean?”

Standing on his front porch—this time in jeans and a black t-shirt, holding a potted fern—was Dean. He smiled hesitantly, almost nervously. “Hi, Cas.” 

“What are you doing here?” Castiel looked at the street, but of course the familiar UPS truck wasn’t there. In its place was a sleek, black car. 

“My route changed and I, uh, never got to say bye. So I thought I’d just come over. Sorry if that’s weird—”

“No, I’m happy to see you. Just surprised. I thought I’d never…”

Dean grinned. “Scared you’d lost me forever?”

Castiel smiled. “Yeah, a bit,” he admitted. 

“I, um, I brought you this.” He held out the plant, laughed nervously. “I felt weird coming over without anything to deliver.”

“Thank you. It’s lovely.” Taking the plant, he stroked the leaves. “I know exactly where to put it.” His heart pounded as he realized now was his chance. He had to take it.

He started to ask for Dean’s number, but Dean started talking too, and they both stopped, laughing. “You first,” Castiel said. 

“Um, well.” Dean shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was thinking, would you maybe want to hang out somewhere other than your doorway? I can show you around town.” He gestured to his car. “Take you for a spin in Baby.”

Castiel couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “I would love that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been… I’ve been meaning to ask you out, or ask for your number. I just never worked up the courage.”

Dean grinned. “Am I really that intimidating?”

Castiel laughed. “No. Not at all. You’re quite the opposite.” He gestured inside. “Would you, uh, would you like to come inside?”

“Yeah, totally.” 

Castiel started to open the door wider, then paused. “I have a question. You never did need my signature, did you? For the packages?”

Dean frowned, then realization seemed to hit him and his face reddened. “Yeah, uh. No. But I figured it was a surefire way to get your name and talk to you.”

“Is that a trick you use often?”

“Nope, you were the first.” He grinned, eyes suddenly teasing. "Did you really need everything you were ordering, or were all the packages just an excuse to see me?"

Now was Castiel's time to blush. "I did need what I ordered!" he protested. "Well, some things. But mainly... I just wanted to talk to you."

“Well, it worked.”

“Yes.” He stepped back for Dean to come inside his home and smiled at him. “And I’m very glad it did."

Tag List:

@becky-srs​​ @xojo​ @marvelnaturalock​ @aelysianmuse​ @prayedtoyou​ @letsjustdieeveryone​ @good-things-do-happen-dean​ @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover​ @theninthdutchessofhell​ @madronasky​ @famouspsychicpizzabandit​ @multifandomdisorder​ @arcticfox007​ @celestialcastiel​ @improvedpeanut​ @castiel-is-a-cat​ @harmonyhelms​ @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you​ @theangelwiththewormstache​ @confusedisaster​ @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole​​ @darksongfire​​ @lykanyouko​​​

Let me know (message, ask, comment) if you’d like to be tagged in my destiel fics or removed from the list :)

[butwhyduh]

Hello! idk whether requests r open, but hope they r. just feel like reading a random damian wayne x reader where reader is his best friend. Any horror will do. Thx!!

In the Darkness

Damian Wayne x BFF!reader

Warning: scary stuff, blood, horror

It was a dark stormy night in Gotham. That terrible temperature that hovered just above freezing until almost morning where it dipped just enough to make an awful icy morning commute. Normally you would be bracing yourself for your next morning trip to school. And forget about being warm, your apartment could barely keep up with being above freezing.

But this night you sat on plush velvet with a roaring fire in a gigantic stone fireplace at one of the Wayne’s penthouses in the city. The wall sized windows showed Gotham through streaming water. It almost looked peaceful.

Breaking you from your revery was a bowl of popcorn being plopped in your lap. You looked up to see Damian with a half grin before he sat down beside you. Titus sat down on his other side.

“We have that film you wanted to watch in theatre,” he said grabbing the remote.

“D, it’s still in theatres,” you said surprised. “How did you get it?”

“A, my father is Bruce Wayne. I could probably buy it. And B, I saved a certain theatre from being robbed and they owed me one and they lent me the film. You’re welcome,” he said, still looking at the screen. For Damian, that was practically the biggest compliment, that he thought about you.

“Thanks. Yeah, I usually just block out the fact that your dad is Bruce Wayne to be honest,” you said eating the popcorn.

“Be less honest,” he said with a gentle shoulder shove. “Let’s watch the film. I have to train tomorrow.”

It was a good movie. Scary with a bit of gore, though you weren’t prepared for Damian to tell you how blood patterns worked differently.

But with only 10 minutes left and the killer almost revealed, the power went out. You groaned and moved to grab your phone. Damian stiffened and looked around.

“Great, my phone is dead,” you said rolling your eyes. Damian quickly looked at his, dead too. At this point he was tense and Titus was on alert.

“Nothing should be out,” he said quietly.

“It’s a big storm, dude,” you said about to ask about flashlights.

“We have 2 main power supplies and 3 back ups. There should be no outage. And my phone was fully charged before the movie. There was a power pulse. This is a Wayne Enterprise owned building and we are in the penthouse. This could be an attack or coop,” he said standing. Titus stood by him and you couldn’t help but stand.

“There’s 2 ways to this floor. The main elevator and the service elevator that is in the guest bathroom,” Damian said. Knowing your location could save your life.

“You think someone is coming up here,” you said quietly. He nodded and moved over to the wall and grabbed a sword from a stand on the wall. You had thought it was decorative. Of course it was real. It was Damian’s.

“Here,” Damian said, reaching in his pocket to grab a large pocket knife. You blanched. “Worst case scenario only. You could hurt yourself before someone else because you aren’t trained. But if your cornered, this could save your life. Only open it if you really need it. Got it?”

“Yeah, D,” you said with frown. He stood a few feet in front of you and Titus was a safe distance away on alert. Your heart was pounding. You really regretted not taking Damian up on the offer to teach you some self defense. At the time the idea of bruises all over your body was the last thing you wanted.

The elevator dinged. It shouldn’t have. You needed a passcode and finger print to operate it. Not to mention, the power was supposed to be out. The door opened and a green mist wafted out and Damian stepped back to avoid it. Gotham villains loved toxins and he didn’t want to be under the power of fear toxin or pheromones or something. Titus got a dose and began barking wildly.

Damian pushed you back with his arm not holding the sword. “Try not to breath it,” he said as the mist filled the apartment. He could make out the shape of a person but couldn’t identify them. Within a minute, Damian realized that they were just some poor victim of whoever set up the toxin. They were screaming silently while their eyes darted around the room. Great, it was probably fear toxin.

Damian pushed a panic button he kept in his jacket pocket at pretty much all times. Hopefully the energy pulse didn’t affect the button. You shoved your shirt over your nose but it was futile. Damian stood in front of you looking around wildly. His eyes were dilated and his breathing was rough.

“Don’t move. It’s all fake! Don’t fall for it. It’s all fake!” He yelled and swung his sword away from you at nothing. Your vision blurred.

Damian and Titus fought some invisible monster in front of you. You turned to see the windows melting. You gasped loudly as the glass slid down like wet gelatin. The floor grew heavy. You weren’t even facing the same direction as Damian any more. You heart thumped painfully in a hard slow rhythm.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You heard screaming laughter. Was the fucking Joker here?? You looked around to see no one.

“It’s in your head,” Damian yelled. He was still fighting an invisible foe. “It’s fake!”

The wall began to cave in. You could feel your body slide slowly towards the gaping window. You grasped at the couch but it too began to slide towards the edge of the wall. You were 50 floors up. There was no way to survive it. You shrieked and grabbed at the slick tile floor. The cold marble bit at your hands.

You could see your blood stick to the floor before defying gravity and floating to the ceiling. It pulsed with your heartbeat. You could hear the laughter in your head. It was so loud. You grasped at your skull. Your bloodied fingers left little streaks of blood all over your face.

Damian was calling you but he was the most dangerous one in the room. He was wildly swinging a sword and he and Titus were furiously fighting a battle. Was he fighting a past foe? The man in the elevator picked the wrong moment to move because Damian came closer and closer to him.

You watched as Damian killed him. His sword sliced the man’s arm first and he barred his teeth before growling at Damian. His eyes were wild and movement was more like an animal over human. Damian slashed him, this time in the abdomen. Dark red blood pooled from the wound and the man bellowed in pain. You cried and rocked. The world was collapsing.

The man was like a wounded beast and he tried to gnarl and slash his hands at Damian. Damian jabbed quickly, almost faster than you could see, and the man breathed his last breath as Damian’s sword pierced his heart. Blood pooled out almost lazily post death. The man’s eyes froze wide and terrible. You cried freely. Damian didn’t stop. He clearly was fighting another foe in his mind.

You balance turned on you and you almost threw up as you gripped the floor. “Stop! Stop!” You yelled as Damian and Titus both continued their battle with nothing.

The floor was turning again. This time, it became sticky as the ceiling melted down towards you. Little bits of melted plaster burned the floor. You rolled away as a large chunk hit the ground. The laughter sounded again and you saw a flash of white face pulled tight in a chaotic laugh.

The second elevator sounded and you scampered away and to behind the couch. Your fingers were white as they gripped the fabric to keep from falling out of the window. Monsters, beasts, men in black suits hurried towards you. Damian screamed and slashed at the air between him and the attacker.

“Don’t touch her! Don’t fucking touch her,” he bellowed. But it was too late. A monster in red grabbed you. You screamed and fought, landing a hit to their chest and a bite to their hand.

“She fucking bit me! Goddamn,” the big man groaned. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and you bucked but it was useless. He had you and you couldn’t escape. A man in black and blue shot Damian with a taser. This was how you were going to die, in a melting building with men as monsters grabbing you. How could you possibly fight them when they took Damian down? He’s the son of Batman.

A monster with a shifting face, once a man and another a beast, came towards you with a syringe. His mouth gaped and swallowed blackness. “No! No,” you moaned. Your throat was raw from screaming. He quickly jabbed you in the neck. Before you passed out, you saw the screaming laughing face of the Joker.

—————————————

12 hours later you woke up. You sat up quickly only to see Damian’s bedroom in the manor. Your head spun for a moment before stopping. His crisp white sheets and blue blanket and red ornamental rug laid on wooden floor. You were alone. You felt a small bandage on your neck and your fingers had small scabs along the nail lines on both hands. One of your fingernails was cut jagged to the quick. You grimaced as you touched the injured skin.

The walk from his bed into the hallway showed you two things: the floor was really cold and that you were wearing Damian’s clothing. A simple grey sweatpants rolled up and black Superman shirt was not enough in the chilly manor. You opened the door to an empty hallway. The floor had a thick soft rug that covered the sounds of your feet. You heard the sound of voices from the library at the end of the hall.

“I almost killed her,” you heard Damian say. His voice sounded pained and raw.

“It was the fear toxin. You didn’t do anything,” said one of his brothers. You couldn’t tell who yet but probably the oldest.

“I almost eviserated her, Grayson,” Damian said flatly. “The fear toxin made her cry in the corner and I almost cut her in 2.”

“She managed to bite me,” said another deeper voice.

“You left yourself open to be attacked,” said a third voice.

“Enough. She’s awake,” said a final voice that you definitely recognized as Damian’s father. “Come in.”

Damian sat on the edge of a wooden desk. Bruce sat in the desk chair behind the desk. Dick sat on a chair in the corner. Jason stood by Dick’s chair and Tim paced by a bookshelf. The other bat kids must have been out working.

“Hey,” Damian said searching your face and body for injury. He almost looked... vulnerable. His eyes stared at the bandage on your neck.

“Hi,” you said and your voice felt raw and painful. You rubbed your throat.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked. Damian quickly got you a chair. You sat down slowly. Your head still throbbed.

“Okay I guess. What happened?” You asked.

“Someone got ahold of a new street drug that uses a certain variety of fear toxin that is fast acting but short term and they atomized it and released it into the tower. They did it through a vent from the top down so you both got the largest dose. Luckily the security guard on the bottom floor only had some anxiety and a racing heartbeat and was able to recognize the situation. Damian’s tracker was activated and we got you both out as fast as we could,” Tim said.

You rubbed your temple. That didn’t sound right. What about the elevator? The man?

“Does your head hurt? We can get you something for that,” Damian said.

“I’m okay. Thanks. How long was I out?” You said trying to put things together.

“12 hours, give or take. You should probably get back in bed until tomorrow. Your mind and body need a break,” Bruce said. You nodded. Your head did hurt and you were tired but you couldn’t relax. There was just something off about everything. Maybe a side effect of the toxin. Damian offered to walk you back into your room.

“I’ll give you some medication to help with your headache. It might make you sleepy, okay?” He said pulling a syringe from a drawer in the room.

“Okay, I guess. My head does hurt,” you said climbing back in bed. Damian smiled and injected your arm.

His face. He smiled widely. Wider than he ever had before. Wide enough to have a gaping blackness. You went to scream but you were too tired. You tried to grab him to find you were tied in place. The manor’s neat clean walls faded to dirty dingy peeling mess and you could smell must and mildew. Your vision blurred.

The sound of a screaming laugh from a pulled back face was the only thing you could hear.

Let me know what you guys think 😀

It’s a part 1 of 2. The second part might be out Friday or next Friday depending on my schedule.

[haikyuuhimbosandhypebeasts]

Heliotrope

Here’s my submission for the Forget Me Not collab for Anisylum! Please note the TW as it is VERY heavy. This piece is entirely SFW though!

Ship: Tsukishima Kei x GN! Reader Genre: Angst, but some fluff in some places. Word Count: 2.2k  Trigger/Content Warnings: near death experience, hospitalization, COVID-19, vomit mention, amnesia after hospitalization, a suicide attempt is briefly mentioned, swearing because this is by me Sexy Sexy Masterlist: here!

Sand clung to skin and the harsher rays of light that usually cascaded and burnt you had died away into a fading tangerine glow. You perched comfortably on the sand, taking note of the undulating waves- they were like you in the sense that while you could crash down hard on the opposition, you would shy away in a fragile manner when faced with gentle treatment. Perhaps it was that you felt you weren’t worth such luxuries that you found it hard to make friends through your first few years of high school. Perhaps it was trying to push people away because you were afraid yet alarmingly aware of your mortality. Perhaps it was something else entirely, something you weren’t quite ready to come to terms with. What you did know was that you weren’t alone in the violent struggle through high school to make friends while you had your walls up. Next to you was someone you never thought you’d share your favorite place with; in any terms you found this boy appalling with his behavior. So appalling, you saw yourself in the way he closed himself off and cut those close with tongue lashings. You knew this only through another friend who took issue with him as you went to another school in an entire other prefecture. Words mauled their way out from your throat, breaking the silence between you and Tsukishima Kei. “I won’t ask you why you tried to do what you did today. But I will ask if there’s anyone you can talk to in your life.” You didn’t understand yourself. Why would you say that…? You don’t remember anything like this at all… His response was equally incoherent and odd. “Okay, but I’ll kill you if you go back on it.” When you opened your mouth to reply to him, the ground around you suddenly reared up like a defensive serpent. A pillar of beach sand forced its way from the ground into your throat, suffocating and trapping your lungs in permanent fullness. You could only gag and cry, unable to even see Tsukishima past the torrent of sand breaking into your body with the intent to kill you slowly…

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

You woke up once more in that dull grey-blue and white room with the only sounds you could properly process being the beep of a heart monitor somewhere behind you. You had managed to halfway curl into somewhat resembling the fetal position, but something kept making you cough and gag as your throat was caught. You move your hand to whatever is catching and about to make you vomit- a tube. This tube, you followed, was in your nose good and solid, and you felt it deep enough in your sinuses you didn’t dare try to pull it out. Moving your hands felt foreign like you had forgotten how to process being human and natural motions like that. You testingly ran your right hand down the tube, taking care to not tug and cause discomfort. Your other hand came to rest on your face. It was slick from sweat, likely due to whatever the fuck you just had a dream about. At the corner of your lips was another tube and when you followed where it led it was taped to the side of your face. You lick your lips and manage to almost fall into a haze until you see movement for the first time in what feels like forever. To be fair, it is one of the most jarring appearances of a person you’ve seen in your whole life to what you can recall. A person in a full-body hazmat suit enters your room through a door you hadn’t even processed was there, then greets you as casually as they can through a plague-resistant suit. “Hey there.” You squint at them. Yeah, you have no fucking idea who this cosplayer in a hospital is, and while you should probably be polite, you feel like you got ran over not once but twice.  You try to speak to them, but you can’t. You don’t have the air for it, it’s like you have no control over your breathing. Clarity washes over you. You’re hospitalized. These are tubes because you were asleep and weren’t breathing or eating right. The realization must show on your face because your nurse speaks up again. “Don’t worry about me too much, we’re just gonna check your vitals and if you feel up to it, we can see how you do without the ventilators.” You try to manage out a “whoopee”, which unimpressively comes out as some form of odd wheeze, and your nurse begins by grabbing the blood pressure cuff covered in protective plastic while they wear a sympathetic expression.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Once you were off the ventilator, the nurse informed you about what had happened. Apparently, an ambulance was called when you were unresponsive and nearly blue in the face, sitting in front of your refrigerator with the door open. You were diagnosed with a severe case of COVID-19, something you had feared would wipe you out entirely and turn you past tense since its spread in your country. This fear wasn’t entirely irrational, either- you were immunocompromised and have been since you were a child. You grew up with being careful around others and hearing of a highly contagious new strain was something that filled you with so much paranoia you seriously considered quitting your current career and instead adopting a hermit lifestyle while completing college at home. Of course, such a thought was squashed by the slowly impending thought of rent, bills, due dates for assignments, and your bitch of a manager who lets people get close to you without a mask on. It’s not a big deal, (y/n), she once said to you. You wanted to shoehorn some tubes down her throat just to survive, see how that felt. It didn’t help that human resources wouldn’t listen to your complaint. They brushed it off since you were just a lowly sandwich maker at a chain sub place. If you had enough scraped together for lawyers right about now, they’d be totally fucked, you thought to yourself. Even more jarring is that it seemed you lost a handful of memories while in the hospital. You could remember basic outlines of people in your head- your very tall and incredibly testy roommate, your younger sister who wore glasses and was much smaller than you, and… a foggy memory of a man with messy black bedhead who had an arm wrapped around your shoulder. It hurt to think too hard. The doctor soon came by to give you test results, to check your vitals again, and to look over your records. He was a bit terse, but you can’t make the best judgments of people when they’re in plastic suits. “We’ll need to get you cleaned up by tomorrow and you should be able to head home,” he’d said, looking over your chart. You didn’t necessarily feel too ecstatic about your trip to your apartment. You remembered your roommate and how finicky he was, and you dreaded for him to belittle you over your condition. You dreaded it enough to even feel a knot of anxiety form in your stomach, wrenched in between your ribs without the intent of ever coming out. “We’ve already contacted uh…” The doctor squints at the screen, “Tsukishima… to come to pick you up tomorrow at noon. We’ll have care instructions printed out. You still have to quarantine for about a week more since your immune system isn’t at its most prime currently.” You agreed, it probably wasn’t a good recovery idea to make a couple of sammies for the public while you were recovering from a virus that had you intubated. He seemed grateful that you were lucid and cooperative, at least.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

You, predictably, didn’t sleep well after being in a medically induced haze for several days. Even more predictably, you found yourself awake from anxieties of the future. Tomorrow was only a few hours away, and then you’d be home. Home… what did that look like for you? The fog in your head was thick initially. You do remember coming home from classes at a different time than Tsukishima, how when you entered he’d often be reading over homework. You remembered how sometimes he would be in the shower and the scent of cheap green apple soap filled the living room connected to it. You remembered… You remembered holding his thin frame in your arms on a bridge, pulling him back from oncoming traffic. You remember how you both collapsed and how the cold autumn air stung your lungs. You remember wide golden eyes staring back at you, as tears slowly filled them, then his normally impartial voice breaking as he hiccuped a sob, “Why? Why did you have to be in Sendai right now?” You felt tears stinging your eyes and a lump form in your throat. You found yourself in distress of your new emotions. Maybe… maybe you can sleep this horrible feeling off. Maybe this fog in your head where you need to know how deep your relationship ran will lift once you get genuine sleep.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Finally, a knock on the door encouraged you to rouse from your sleeping state. And eloquently, you spoke your true feelings in your sleep-deprived state,  “No.” You hear the doorknob turn and the door open. There’s a lack of a greeting from your nurse nor a quick apology from your doctor for interrupting your sleep. Actually, if you’re gonna use logic, what nurse or doctor is gonna wake up their peacefully sleeping patient in recovery? Thought of it being your doctor or nurse practically evaporates once the intruder has a seat on your bed. They still haven’t spoken, so now you’re remembering what tricks of self-defense you learned online to give this person a proper ass-kicking for getting way too close. You crack your hazy eyes open to get a look at where they’re sitting and you stop dead in your thoughts as wary gold eyes peer down at you. Your eyes widen out of reflex and butterflies bloom from your stomach at seeing what you now remember is your roommate. “I knew you were awake,” He said, a wry smile on his face. His expression was betrayed by his concerned gaze, though, “Wow, you look like shit.” You don’t know entirely why past his comment feeling not as an insult, but almost as a compliment, but you smile a little, “I feel like it too.” His expression doesn’t change. He runs a large calloused hand through the tresses of your hair, though, as if to soothe you. The doctor walked in and apologized for interrupting the moment between the two of you, unsure if it was something serious. You told him it was nothing because that’s what it was to you.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

The car ride wasn’t filled with the snarky banter you had been expecting. Instead, there was plentiful comfortable silence as Tsukishima drove. You didn’t know whether to be grateful or not for the silence- you still felt quite feeble and needed way more bed rest before you could get ready to do anything for anyone. Despite the wholesome silence, you felt those round gold eyes focus on you occasionally. And even though it was comfortable, you felt a melancholy twinge in the atmosphere as he inspected you. “I know you’ll give me shit for this… but you look like you’ve lost weight. I uh…” He gripped the steering wheel harder. You glanced over at him. A shade of baby pink dusted itself across his cheekbones and nose as he focused on the road. “I’m worried about you.” Fuck, there go those butterflies again. Something in you pushed to help- to comfort- but the logical side of your brain brought you to a halt. You’d weighed it in your head a couple of times. You two act closer than just roommates, and it’s not entirely clear how or why you got up to this point… but you had a solid hunch you might be dating this guy. Maybe? You closed your eyes and rested your head on the car door as you thought. You remember how sand clung to your body and you could hear the roaring of the sea. How you watched Tsukishima focus on the waves to regulate his breathing. You vaguely remember your words breaking away from your throat and catching the salty sea air. “Why don’t we stay together?” His lanky body stiffened, then he looked at you with disbelief. “... you wouldn’t want that. I’m fucking annoying and mean.” Your eyes creased with familiarity at the line. “Yeah? So am I. We can butt heads until we balance each other out.” It looked like he wanted to cry, but his pride wouldn’t let him cry in front of you anymore today. “I won’t ask you why you tried to do what you did today. But I will ask if there’s anyone you can talk to in your life,” you reached a careful hand over to rub his back, “Kei, if there isn’t, let me be that person.” You felt how his breath shuddered. To save his pride, you looked to the ocean and watched its hypnotic movements. After a few deep, shaky inhales and exhales, he replied. “I don’t understand why you’re being nice to me. Why you didn’t let me die. I will probably come back to this point in my life several times and you’re trying to say you’ll put up with it?” There was some bite to his tone, he was trying so hard to put up walls when he had no will to do so at the moment. How long had he pushed others away from being close? If he was anything like you… it was since grade school. “Let me be your support for when you’re in pain,” You tried once more, “I’m stubborn as shit so I know I won’t give up on you.” “You’re not getting it, you fucking idiot. I’m always in pain, that’s just been life,” he snapped bitterly, glaring at you now.  “Then I guess I’ll be by your side forever.” You’d said it without thinking that day. It was like the ocean grew quieter with your words as if even Poseidon became interested in your proposition. You felt heat rise to your face at the implications of what you said. He stared at you with raised eyebrows and the slightest hint of a champagne pink hue on his face. He averted his eyes almost in a panic and watched the ocean again, suddenly very aware of his own expression. You carefully peered over at him again to see he’d only grown redder, now mirroring you. “You… don’t mean that,” He said as if it were a statement. “I do. You’re a good person inside, but you’re defensive and hurt. I’ve seen that from you in the past and I’ve learned more about you today. I want to be there for you as long as you’ll have me. Will you let me?”  He picked at the sand as if thinking it over for a moment. There was a brief pause as waves rolled over each other in front of both of you, the sound of their impact being the only thing to grace your ears. Finally, his cynical tone returned as he regained some form of his prior composure. “Okay, but I’ll kill you if you go back on it.”

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

“Hey. (Y/n), we’re home,” Tsukishima gently shook your shoulder to rouse you from your sleep. You opened your eyes slowly and groaned out a swear. Tsukishima felt a hesitant smile creep up his face as he opted to just try and maneuver you into your shared home himself. He remembered how waking up was hard for you. Once he opened the passenger door you nearly fell out onto the pavement, only saved by your seatbelt and the giant himself. Your face fell awkwardly into his hip, and you grumbled at the interruption to your sleep. “You sleep like the fucking dead, christ,” he mused out loud and sat you up so it was safe to unbuckle your seatbelt. He urged you to get up more- it wasn’t that you were heavy, he just really wasn’t in the place to lift you at the moment and didn’t even know how to go about it. Regardless, he held you up by a shoulder and crouched to make it easier for you both to walk to the apartment. In some part of your sleep, you began to speak, “Kei.” He kept his gaze trained forward at the front door and struggled to grab his keys from his pocket, “Yes?” “Are we married?” Kei dropped his keys, then shot you a look of concern, “... No…?” He had to hold himself back from saying not yet, unsure of what you were getting to. He reached down to grab his keys and he focused back on the door. “Why are you asking?” He unlocked the door and threw it open, getting you both inside finally. He set you on your couch and sat on the floor in front of you. You looked at him suspiciously, now roused from your sleep. The only thing on your mind was that dream- it had to be a memory! You refused to understand it as anything but that. You prodded, “On the beach, I told you I’d be by your side forever.” He seemed to weigh your thoughts heavily in his mind, “... did you forget about us?” You didn’t expect what felt like cold water to hit your back so hard and so suddenly at his suggestion. He didn’t seem hurt at the thought, instead, he found himself occupied with your reaction. His hand reached out to rub the side of your face as you looked at him with wide, guilty eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Your sister told me this kind of thing might happen…” His calloused thumb traced over your lip, and he offered a smile the best he could, “I’ll try to explain it.” Tsukishima explained that what you remembered happened about four years ago and you had been living together ever since. He motioned to photos on the walls of the two of you and people who you could just hardly remember. When you rested your index finger on an individual who was much scrawnier than most of the people there, sitting on the bench with you and watching you speak with admiration, Tsukki put his hand over yours. “That’s your sister. She took most of these pictures, but she usually sits next to you when you have a space available.” You nodded and closed your eyes. You began to remember summers you spent with her in childhood and her yelling at you to do your homework when you bothered her as you got older. You smiled a bit. Once your eyes opened again, your finger traveled to possibly the tallest person in the room. He was big, but you remembered something warm and comfortable about that man… “That’s Kuroo. You both went to the same high school and you were in his friend group.” You both went on like that for a while until you’d cleared everyone in that picture. Once you did, you sat down to think over the new cluster of names you’d picked up. “... when you promised you’d be here with me forever, did you remember what I promised to you?” Kei asked as he sat next to you. “No… I just remember what happened on the beach up until you threatened to kill me if I took back my promise.” “Oh, right. I was going through that phase,” He seemed displeased with the comment. You found it almost funny but refrained from laughing for his sake. He continued, in a quieter tone, “I promised that if something happened to you, that I would always be here for you, too. That I’d get you back into shape.” His larger hand gently entwined with yours, “... so if you remember that promise and you’ll have me, I’d love to marry you once you get your memories back. … If you want to. I-” You cut him off with a hug to his side, trembling a bit as your emotions got the better of you. You smiled up at him. “I can’t promise I’ll be better fast, and I still feel like several trucks ran through me at once… but I’m happy,” you managed out. You didn’t know what your face looked like right about now and you didn’t have the nerve to look up into Kei’s glasses to check your reflection. He wrapped his arms around you in return, pressing the side of his face against your head. “Please, don’t give me an answer yet. You’re not in the right mental state. I’ll wait for you until you’re ready.” You ran your hands up and down his back. You weren’t exactly afraid of remembering things, but you were quite anxious for what tomorrow might bring for both of you. Despite that, you felt safe recovering in his arms, and you were sure you’d feel that way for a long time.

Have a link to the sexy sexy masterlist down here as well. Unless you’re done reading, then have a good day. But if you’re not there’s some fire stuff in that bad boy.

[anjuschiffer]

Unrequited

For Timari January - Day 16: “Why would I ever date someone like you?”

--

Tags: @timari-month-event @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

--

AO3

“He’s just perfect!” Marinette ended her rant with a dreamily sigh, squealing when she picked up a stuffed animal in the shape of a black cat.

She petted the thing like it was an actual cat, even going as far as tickling it under its chin. Tim frowned as continued to fawn over the mangy thing, forcing himself to type away at his recent case.

“I know I said I wanted us to have a hamster, but now that I think about it, I don’t think Adrien would mind having a cat. Oh! We can name it Noir! Maybe-” Tim tuned Marinette out again, attempting to cool himself down. “-do you think Tim?” he snapped from his turmoil. He looked up from his screen, noticing that Marinette had her hair down before using one hand to put it into a ponytail.

“Is this for that group hangout later today?” Tim asked her, Marinette picking up on his annoyance. 

“Tim. Are you alright?” She asked, letting her hair drop and deciding to sit by his feet. “Is Bruce-”

“I’m fine.” Tim gritted out, huffing before turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Ponytail.”

“Tim, we’ve known each other since we were kids, so tell me. What’s wrong?” She asked as she placed her hand on his knee. 

He honestly didn’t know why he did it. Really, he didn’t. 

Was it because he was sick and tired of hearing Marinette talking about him? About the supposed love of her life? 

Was it because that’s all she was ever talking about the minute he stepped into her room, just like every other time for the past two years? How she would tell him all of her fantasies she had with golden boy Agreste?

So why? Why did he ever do it, even though he knew how it was going to end.

“Does it have to be Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head. “Does it have to be someone like Adrien, a rich model, to make you happy?”

“Tim, what are you getting-”

“What about,” he closed his laptop, “someone like me?” He asked, looking directly at her.”

“Why would I ever date someone like you?” Marinette asked him, a tiny laugh following. 

It hurt. 

“Why wouldn’t you?” Tim pried, something he knew he would regret saying. 

“Why? Let’s see,” Marinette began, getting up to lean against the ladder that led to her bed. “First off, you’re my best friend.” Marinette counted. “I rather not make things awkward between us. 

Then there’s the fact that you're a vigilante. I don’t want to become a possible hostage if i ever go to Gotham to visit you. I’m there to spend time being with you, not spending time being bait.

Yes, I may be Ladybug and know how to defend myself, but that doesn’t mean I will react the same if I ever get caught in a Gotham attack. There’s no miraculous magic to guarantee my safety, so who knows if i will be lucky enough to escape an attack unscathed.” 

Tim watched as she fiddled with a loose hair strand. “And even if you weren’t a vigilante, I honestly don’t think our relationship would even work.” Marinette confessed. “It would've been one thing if we lived a single border away from each other but a whole ocean? It would never work.” 

Tim watched as Marinette counted another finger off. “Then there’s the fact that you’re a bit too dedicated to your job.”

“My job?” Tim asked, feeling himself reaching his limit. 

“A workaholic at  Wayne Enterprises during the day and a case obsessed vigilante at night. When will we ever have the time to just relax, to be with each other? The answer is that we won’t, so I don’t-“

“Case obsessed?” Tim couldn’t believe it. “Marinette, I need to be case obsessed -as you call it- to help keep Gotham safe.”

“But to the point of depleting your health? I don’t think it’s worth-“

“Gotham isn’t Paris. We don’t have magic to restore everything after a massive fight, to repair any collateral damage done to the city and people of Gotham.” Tim defended himself. “Studying cases helps to create-“

“But you take it overboard, Tim.” Seriously, why is he getting so defensive? “I mean just look at you now! Bruce sent you here so that you could take a break and get-“

“Evil never rests Marinette.” Tim looked at her dead in her eyes. “I thought you would know that by now.”

“I do.” Marinette growled, crossing her arms.

“Do you? Do you really?” Marinette let out a heavy sigh. 

“Tim, can we just drop this?”

“Drop this? You’re the one who brought it up and now that I’m trying to defend-“

“Defend something that’s harming you. You're harming yourself without even knowing!” Marinette felt like ripping her hair out.

“At least I’m obsessed over trying to keep Gotham safe, unhealthy but necessary.” Tim said. “Unlike you who's obsessed with trying to get the attention of someone who wouldn’t even bat an eye in your direction.” 

Marinette gasped, knowing exactly who he was referring to and insulting. 

“I’m not obsessed with Adrien.” Tim let out a dry laugh, Marinette watching him shake his head as he got up, slamming his laptop on the lounge chair. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m not.” 

“You don’t call this an obsession!” Tim motioned to the entire wall by her desk, covered inch to inch in photos of Adrien. 

Some weren’t even photos from shoots he took for his father’s company, but photos Marinette had printed out after taking them at school events. 

“It's inspiration.”

“Inspiration?” Tim ran his hand through his hair. “It could’ve passed for inspiration if you didn’t have his damn face in each damn photo on this wall! It would’ve been inspiration if his stupid smiling-“

“His smile is not stupid! It very pleasing to the eye, and warms-“

“Don’t you ever stop babbling about him?” 

“I don’t babble about him. I-“

“You only ever talk about five things: Lila, school, deadlines, Hawkmoth and this idiot!” Tim listed off, slamming his hand over a picture of Adrien winking towards the camera. Marinette shrieked. 

“How dare you! That photo is signed!” 

“Are you listening to yourself?”

“I can ask you the same-“ 

“I’m not obsessed with Adrien! Can’t you understand-“

“How blind are you to believe-“

“I’m not blind!” Marinette defended herself. 

“Then you’re in denial!” Tim opposed. “And don’t say you’re-“

“I’m not!” She yelled, wanting to stomp her feet. 

“Then explain this!” Tim pulled down the old projector board, exposing a giant schedule filled to the brim with different events, post it notes and doodles. But despite it filled with trivial info about her friends, everything else was about a single person. “Explain why the hell you have Adrien’s information to a t.”

“You act like you don’t do that same!”

“Villains, Marinette! I make charts and webs to help me track down villains! Not to know what what in the ever fucking love my crush is doing every second of the day!”

Marinette remained silent before Tim saw something slip into her mind. 

“I don’t just have Adrien’s schedule, but also Alix’s and my other friend’s-“

“Are you talking about these?” Tim asked, pulling out only six laughable notes about her friends. “These events?” He asked again, shaking the measly six things she had on her friends. “Marinette. This.” He gestured again to the immaculate replica of Adrien’s schedule in front of them. “This is called obsession... being a stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker and I’m not obsessed! I only have his schedule in case-“

“Not a stalker? Not obsessed? You know his schedule, by heart! You know where his room is located within his home, you knew the password to his phone -fuck you’ve taken his phone-, get jealous over other girls even being with him despite not being in a relationship with him, fantasize about a future with him-“

“Shut up!” Marinette screamed. “What the hell do you even know about me? About my feelings for Adrien? Tell me Tim!”

Tim remained quiet, watching as Marinette glared at him, tears pooled in her eyes. “You can’t, can you? You know why? Because you don’t know anything about me?” She let out a dry laugh. “Bet you don’t even know what it’s like to even be in-“

“I have. And I do know what it’s like to feel worried, concerned, fearful about the person you love. Because believe it or not, I have been in love before. But as you can see, that didn’t work out. And here I am, experiencing it all over again,” Tim watched as something flashed before her eyes. “But this time...this time, I feel like it was just a waste of time…”

Tim walked to his laptop and picked it up, opening the hatch to leave.

Marinette watched as he slowly descended until only his head peered over the entrance of her room. “If I knew opening up to a new love was going to be like this, I would’ve never given love a second chance.” 

With that, Tim left, leaving Marinette alone in her room. 

[shouldntcryoverit]

the art of discordance

a captain rex x jedi fic during clone wars era :))

no warnings i think uh yeah hope you enjoy let me know ig...

next chapter

CHAPTER ONE -

A new general. That’s what the rookies had heard, though Rex was reluctant to believe the Jedi Council had the guts to replace Skywalker. After a good few months, the captain had learnt of his general’s unique ‘disposition’, and getting a new general to step in was what he least expected.

That was until the ship landed just outside their camp and she walked out. Even from his position sitting further back on some crates, Rex could make out the figure, identifying her as one of the jedi knights, though which one escaping him. Perhaps the rumours were true.

He watched as she walked closer, hands placed purposefully and eyes wandering over the other two jedi in front of her. The commander crossed her arms defensively, though her master seemed unbothered by her arrival, excited even.

“master?” Ahsoka coughed

“oh snips!” Skywalker bleated with the same enthusiasm he had wagered throughout the interaction “this is Jaida Reyes”

“the one from your padwan stories?” Ahsoka said with smug conviction

“my reputation precedes me” her accent was crisp and calm, though her tone radiated a coolness that Ahsoka couldn’t help but feel distanced by “though i’d rather be known for my skills with a lightsaber than helping Akin steal from Obi-wan”

Ahsoka held back a snicker as Rex walked up to the three, absent minded as he double checked his comm.

“General Skywalker, we have the new coordinates” His attention tried hard to divert to the new face.

“ah thank you” Anakin turned to his friend “this is my captain, Rex”

Rex nodded at his introduction.

“i’m the new co-general, General Reyes” her face settled into the beginnings of a smile, but faultered and remained her neutral, placid gaze.

The young jedi watched with focused eyes as they walked the short distance towards the briefing tent. Already her presence seemed to spark rumours among the men, and she watched as the younger looking troopers sent her inspecting looks. It was to be expected, honestly she never wanted a big formal introduction, but she didn’t know that her arrival would breach the news so quickly.

When they arrived, the tent was half full. An open and decorated holo map was in the centre, with at least two clones at each marked entrance point.

“Boys” Skywalker called “we have a visitor”

She rolled her eyes slightly at the flamboyant gesture, but stepped forward anyway. “I’m General Reyes, apparently Skywalker wasn’t trusted enough to run his own battalion, so i got called in” Her hands rested behind her back, but a small grin encroached her face as the snipe made a few troopers smirk.

“excuse my fellow jedi, she’s never been good at taking second place” Anakin fired back, earning another set of grins.

Reyes crossed her arms as her smiling face resumed the same placcid one she’d kept previously. “i have heard nothing but good things, and i look forward to serving with you.”

The Captain moved forward from the side of the room and clicked to change the holo map, it made a small beep as he did.

“The 212th met a settlement of droids over this side of the ridge. Last report was that they were able to move forward at the threat subsided.”

“so what does that mean for us?” Jaida’s brows furrowed as Rex layed the plans out for her. Already her mind was scoping escape routes and vantage points, but she remained seemingly unbothered by the conflict describes. Rex couldn’t help but feel unmotivated by her apparent lack of interest.

“our initial plan was to take out the last forces left on the planet after the seppie defeat, but intelligence believed the 212th accidentally did it for us”

She scoffed “so we’re here for a clean up?”

“hope you brought something fun to do” Ahsoka scorned.

The efforts were limited within the first hour. Already the men were tired of the same scenery and nothing but expansive flats. The sun stood high in the sky, illuminating the landscape in a orange hue. It wasn’t hot nor cold, everything about the mission mediocre, something Reyes particularly hated. It wasn’t just her with an annoyance, she could sense the captain’s distrust. She understood it, only hoped it wouldn’t comprimise her efficiency.

As if nothing interesting was ever going to happen, a yell from a trooper a little further ahead broke the methodical thump of the machinery.

Soon followed was the sound of gun fire. Each shot was slow, until finally the enemy was visible.

“Find cover!”

“you did say you wanted action” Anakin quipped, earning an actual chuckle from her usual pursed lips. It almost caught Rex off guard.

It was unavoidable, the lack of cover meant the men were almost completely exposed, accept for the three jedi that stepped forward, sabers ignited.

Reyes was a new sight, though she didn’t look out of place on the battle field. Her lighsaber was different, instead of the usual one blade, hers had two, both green and glowing as she tactically spun it round and round, catching blasts as if it were sport. Even her fighting style seemed new, she fought with elegance and structure, each blow purposeful and strong.

Her focus was planted entirely on the enemy ahead, so much so that she failed to notice the trooper settling down beside her.

“karking droids, never seem to die” she muttered, deflecting a few more blasts.

A muffled laugh came from beside her and the familiar blue and white etched her vision.

“I’d get used to it general” a trooper grinned

Jaida turned and grimaced, an offering of acceptance. As she refocused her mind to the task at hand, a thought slipped through.

“trooper, get those three and come with me”

Her request caught the clone beside her off guard, but he complied none the least.

The five of them rounded behind the line of defence, all the way to their republic.

“uh, sir, what are we doing?” a soldier with a hand print on his chest asked, gingerly as the new, seemingly scary, general climbed onto the side.

“if i can prime the ignition gear and jinx the starter cable, I can force it into their ranks and it’ll, with any luck,” she popped her head up with a half devilish grin “turn them all into scrap parts”

It was the trooper with the cog on his helment that relaxed first “heh, they teach you that at the temple?” he quipped

“nope” she gestured for them to cover her as she popped open the side “they taught me it on florrum” she said with a smirk, before diving back into the mess of wires and sparks.

Jaida’s plan worked, and effectively too. After a very short battle, the men finished their sweep and prepared to bid the timeless campaign fairwell.

Once back on the ship, most clones settled down for the trip back to Coruscant, and Reyes followed suit, though only subtly checking that everyone was well and okay, before continuing her sweep on the ration packs. After she deemed her check satisfactory, she retreated to the command rooms. The door slid open and revealed Rex standing over a report, absent minded to say the least. His shoulders tensed momentarily as the door swooshed, and she noticed the sour taste that seemed to flood his tongue when he met her eyes.

Jaida cleared her throat, and planted fists against the table, propping herself up.

“i’m sorry, we lost men” Jaida spoke calmly, slightly softer than her usual tone.

“with all due respect sir, you don’t seem all that bothered.” Rex mentioned.

“captain” “it’s not something i’ve grown accustomed too yet” Jaida countered, though her argument didn’t cause Rex’s stance to loosen. She cleared her throat

“i’ve lost people before, and I know what it’s like to loose someone in battle, though i don’t know what it’s like to loose your brothers. i did not want this” her tone was instructive, but it softened all the same and her true compassion fell through.

Rex paused for a moment and met her eyes again “i shouldn’t have blamed you, my apologies, general”

“relax, captain”

“it’s uh, Rex, sir” he corrected. It was when he lifted his hands to the side of his helmet that Jaida realised she had never actually seen his face. It came off, and revealed a strong jaw and cheek bones, all toned perfectly set. His eyebrows arched above his eyes, a slightly different shade of golden brown than his brothers. Of course the main difference was his hair colour, short and stark blonde.

“Jaida” her response made Rex frown ”if i have to call you by your name you have to call me by mine. Jaida” she explained

“sounds fair”

“good” she smiled for the first time, and Rex liked it.

————————————

The night after an assignment was always filled with either anecdotes or silence, a relief or devastating. Jaida watched as the men loitered around crates of rations and equipment, all with distant smiles; tired.

She had previously been stuck at the medbay after the medics caught sight of her, a few gashes on her cheeks the real cause - nothing bacta wouldn’t heal, but she learnt quickly of their head medic, Kix, and his ability to scare even Jedi into looking after themselves. After making peace with the captain, a warmth had begun to spread about her.

Now, she stood against the cold duraplast walls of the Resolute, picking aimlessly at the scarce red dirt left on her hands.

“You okay Jay?” the question broke her mindless thought.

“yeah, i am” she looked up to her friend knowingly, Anakin grinning as he always did.

“Generals!” a trooper with geometric tattoos called out “come sit with us”

She turned her head sharply and gazed over the haphazard array of lounging clones

“I ought to check the ration packs” she tried to excuse.

“you should take one sir” Another clone encourage lazily “deserve it after that rescue”

She blinked for a second, unsure if it would make more sense to agree or deny. Before she said yes or no, Anakin had already collected her on his way to his own seat in the game.

Jaida sauntered over and handed each clone a bar before taking one herself, sitting down cross leggedly just as graceful as she did anything.

“sir, i don’t like it” she spoke between chews “name’s Jaida”

“well, Jaida, general’s told us a little about your career together, got any stories?”

“many” Jaida gave the first ghost of a smile any of them had seen from her yet, however small it may have been, and lent backwards against another log “Anakin ever told you about the time we climbed to the very top of the temple walls?”

[wkemeup]

Hope Haven

inbox request: “Saw your post about BAON oneshots and a thought occurred to me. Does Reader ever recover even a little of her inheritance? Maybe she donates to women's shelters?” by @amandatar-06​​ ❤️ pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 2.8k warnings: bucky continues to be an angel, focus on women’s shelters and domestic violence a/n:  US national domestic violence hotline 1-800-799-7233 🌹series masterlist 🌹

The bills were piling up on the kitchen table. Hidden under stacks of personnel files from the academy and a container of Thai takeout, sat dozens of unopened envelopes from the law firm you’d hired in an effort to unfreeze Brock’s accounts. You dug your fingers into your scalp, trying to find the willpower to look at the damage inside.

A year’s worth of legal battles and arrogant attorneys, only to be told that you’d never see a penny of your stolen inheritance. You’d signed it away in sound mind, they said. You knew what you were doing. It didn’t matter that you’d been drowning in grief and your husband saw an opportunity to manipulate you. The law didn’t care that Brock Rumlow took advantage of the woman he was supposed to love in order to fill his own pockets. You signed the damn forms.

So, your case was thrown out and you were thousands in debt for the trouble.

You’d been working back at Columbia for a while now, but there was no way you’d be able to cover the cost of the attorneys on your own and you weren’t about to ask Bucky for help, not after all he’d already done for you. You put so much on his shoulders and while you knew he’d carry the weight of the world for you with a goddamn smile on his face, there were just some things you wanted to do for yourself.

You didn’t miss the money. You’d been happier in this last year cramped up in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn than you had in years living in a mansion filled with expensive artwork and a full-time staff. You wanted the inheritance back for a reason; one you though might help alleviate some of the stone that had nestled its way into your chest the day you met Brock.

A flyer was crumpled up in your work bag beside you; folded and tucked securely in the side pocket. You gently pulled it into your lap and brushed out the wrinkles. At the top it read, Hope Haven Women’s Shelter in large, purple block printed letters. Below it listed details of the address in Brooklyn, along with a 24/7 hotline, and an invitation to attend an open house this coming Saturday.

You’d kept in your bag for nearly two weeks. Not quite sure what to do with it. You hadn’t told Bucky about it either, unsure of how he would react. While Brock was in your past and you knew with absolutely certainty that Bucky would never hurt you – hell, he’d cut off his own hand before it could strike you – you still felt that pull towards the shelter. There was no money left to donate, and you didn’t know if it was for yourself or just wanting to give back in any way you could, but you wanted to go.

Inner conflict and guilt and a strange mix of belonging all rolled into one. Part of you felt like you didn’t deserve to be there, to share a space with women who bravely sought out the help they needed to escape from violent and cruel men, when you’d succumbed for so many years. You’d been part of the problem, hadn’t you? Silent and pretty as you stood next to a powerful man who spent his money and time making the city a darker, more vengeful place. 

There was a voice, one screaming at you to believe that you’d been manipulated and taken advantage of and blackmailed unto submission. You did not have the choice to run or seek help when you needed it. You knew the power Brock held and what he could have done if he’d found out. 

And still. The guilt, the feeling as though you don’t belong, festered. 

You didn’t notice the front door unlatch as Bucky quietly made his way into the kitchen. So, as he came up behind you and leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, it startled you.

You yelped, clutching the flyer tight to your chest as Bucky jumped back, hands up defensively.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Bucky eased, sinking down to his knees beside you. He rested his hands on your thighs, watching as you slowly nodded at him, regaining your breath. “Sorry honey, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s alright,” you said with a tired smile, “been a long day.”

The crinkling of the paper in your hands seemed to draw his attention down to your lap. He narrowed his eyes, curious.

“What’s this?”

You crumpled it tight into your grip. “Nothing.”

Bucky softened, watching the tension build quickly into your shoulders; leftover panic from your time with Rumlow. It was ingrained in you and it would take more than just Bucky’s kindness and his love for you to let it go. You needed time, years maybe, to relearn how not to be afraid and he understood that.

But he’d seen the flyers posted around campus on the days he’d come up to visit you. He saw the bright purple border on the paper clutched in your fist and recognized it from the bulletin board posted outside your office. He knew what you held in your hand.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Bucky said softly, glancing up to meet your eyes. Surprised, wide, and a little nervous, but he offered a smile in response, his thumb soothing over your knee. “I just want you to know I think it’s a good idea. I mean, you don’t need my support to go but… you have it.”

Bucky cleared his throat nervously, offering a shy sort of smile as he continued. “I could, um, go with you if you want? Or we can call Nat? I know she’d go with you in a heartbeat if you asked. Whatever you want, sweetheart. I just want you to be happy.”

You were still for a moment, stunned, before you nodded. It’s not that you expected anything less from Bucky but it still surprised you most days that anyone could be as wonderful as he was. Brock had done a number on you and Bucky spent most of his time helping to undo all the damage your husband had caused. Bucky filled the shadows and the holes with flowers and light and love and slowly, all the good in him outshined all the bad in Brock.

“Thank you,” you exhaled, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Bucky nodded, a hand reaching up to brush your hair from your eyes. It rested on your neck, sweeping tenderly over your cheekbone. The most beautiful man you’d ever known.

***

Natasha picked you up ten minutes before the open house. You were pacing back and forth in the kitchen, sure to wear trenches into the tiles, while Bucky watched you from over the top of his book. Hands tugging at your shirt, eyes glancing back at the door every few paces, the anxiety was creeping its way through your entire body. Cheddar was weaving in and around your feet, daring you to trip over his tiny paws. 

“You don’t have to go today,” Bucky offered but you shook your head. 

“No, no. I need to do this.”

Bucky nodded, returning to his book without another word, though he still glanced up in your direction between paragraphs. 

The buzzer nearly startled you out of your skin as it rang out. Cheddar scurried across the tile and sprang up onto the couch with Bucky, nestling his way onto the top cushions of the backrest. 

Hand clutched at your chest, heart pounding a little faster, you quickly made your way to the door. 

“Your jacket, love!” Bucky called out behind you, rushing up from his position on the couch to help wrap you up in the raincoat. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, smiling at you with a sort of pride in his eyes that made your stomach twist to knots.

“I’ll be back soon,” you told him, though he waved you off. 

“Take your time. I’ll be here.” With that, Bucky returned to his place on the couch, book curled back up in his hands, blanket draped over his lap. 

You paused by the door, watching him for a second longer, wondering how it was possible that you found a man so understanding and supportive after all you’d been through. It was as if he were a gift provided from the heavens for walking through hell. 

As you made your way outside, locking the door behind you and descending the stairs, you found Natasha waiting patiently for you. Leaning against the exterior brick wall, arms folded over her chest, she smiled as you walked up to her. 

“Ready?” 

“I don’t know if that’s the right term for it, but I suppose.” You scratched at the back of your check, feeling the nerves dancing upon your skin. 

“You’ll be just fine, I promise,” Nat swore, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you down the sidewalk. Her hand didn’t leave you until she’d distracted you enough with old stories of Sam and Bucky at the academy and the rush of your heartbeat had eased. 

A few blocks and a short subway ride later, you found yourself standing outside a small, stoned building on the border of Brooklyn. It had little to identify it as a women’s shelter save for the small purple ribbon hung around the bannister. You stared up at it for a while, feeling a sudden sense of dread. 

“Hey, come on,” Nat grabbed your hand, giving it a tight squeeze, “you’ve got this.” 

You nodded, taking in a deep breath, though you did not release Natasha’s hand. Like an anchor keeping you afloat, she led you up the stairs and through the front door. 

Inside, dozens of women were talking amongst one another. Some in lavender t-shirts identifying themselves as volunteers and employees of Hope Haven, others mingling quietly by the refreshments table or sitting awkwardly upon the couches looking around in silence. It was clear some of these women were familiar with one another, with the house itself, and the sanctuary it offered, but for many, it was their first time wandering into such a place. 

You tried to avoid the startling discoloration on the neck of a woman sitting quietly on the couch by herself. Though Nat pulled you forward, you found yourself glancing back at the woman. She was stunning, beautiful in every way, but the expression on her face was one you recognized well; one of lingering panic, of the carpet sure to sweep out from under her feet, glances back at the door like she was expecting someone to come barging through. 

“Oh my god, is that Y/n Rumlow?”

You froze dead in your tracks. Natasha’s hand squeezed yours again, drawing you back to the ground. You could feel the tension radiate through Natasha’s arm, as if she were already on the defensive for you, but as you met the eyes of the woman who called your name, she began to soften. 

The woman stepped forward, a wide smile upon her face as she extended a hand to you; not to shake, but to hold. You gave her your free one cautiously, and she lit up. 

“It is such a joy to have you here,” she said. “My name’s Shavonne. I do my best to run things around here for these ladies.”

You nodded, still unsure why she singled you out. In your experience, that usually wasn’t for anything good. 

“We had the Hydra story on around here for weeks after the arrests last year,” she explained and several women around her nodded enthusiastically, smiling in your direction. “It was incredible what you did. The girls here were so enthralled, we had a watch party for the trial!”

Many of the women laughed and cheered in response. You looked around at them, stunned, as they smiled warmly back at you.

“You are exceptionally brave, Y/n,” Shavonne said and you could feel the sincerity in her words. “Thank you for coming today. We are so happy you’re here. Now, please! Enjoy the free food! Let me know if I can help you with anything at all.”

“I will,” you said, voice a little smaller than you meant, but she heard it. You supposed she must be used it by now with the amount of women in the home. 

As Shavonne walked over to chat with some of the women standing by the television, you felt Nat tug you a little closer. 

“You alright?”

You nodded, a smile tugging at your cheeks as a petite woman by the mini sandwiches waved at you like an old friend. 

“Actually, I’ll be right back,” you said, releasing your hand from Natasha’s hold. She narrowed her eyes on you, a little concerned, before she followed your gaze over to the woman on the couch you’d been eyeing as you walked in. 

“I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Slowly, you crossed through the room, passing by women who whispered your name with traces of excitement rather than fear, who smiled brightly at you as you caught their eye, who giggled amongst themselves as you returned their waves. You’d never experienced anything like it. 

You were used to people cowering in fear, whispering gossip under their breath, and turning their backs to you. These women welcomed you without a second thought, embraced you like their own. Whatever fears you had of not belonging, of not being enough, dissolved away. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

The women sitting alone upon the couch glanced up at you. She seemed a little startled by your presence, though she shook her head, and it was then you noticed the little boy sitting at her feet; tucked around her left shin, holding onto a toy plane as he weaved it through the air. 

“Your son?” you asked, sitting down beside her. She nodded, brushing a hand over his head. “He’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was small, a little raspy, and you didn’t dare to draw the connection to the discoloration on her neck. 

“This is my first time here, too,” you said slowly, glancing around the house. It seemed to surprise her. 

“Really?” 

You nodded. “I never had the courage to seek out a place like this when I really needed it. It’s nice to know it’s here, though. I’m hoping I can volunteer, actually. After everything I’ve been through, to end up as happy as I am with a man who is beyond kind and exceptionally loving, it feels right to try to pass some of that onto others, you know?”

She watched you as you spoke and you could tell by the way she nodded along that she knew who you were. 

“I thought you had a lot of courage,” she said after a moment, her fingers gently raking through her son’s hair. “Standing up the way you did... Working with the FBI to bring down Hydra and your own husband? It’s the kind of courage I dream of.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” You smiled warmly at her, offering your hand and waiting for her to take it. She placed it into your grasp and you gave it a light squeeze. “You have exceptional courage.”

She smiled at you, reflective tears brimming in her eyes. You pulled a small notebook from your bag, quickly ripping off the top sheet filled with notes for your next lecture, and scribbled down your number. 

“I’m here for you if you need me, alright?” You handed her the paper. “Call anytime.”

She nodded, stunned, and quickly inputted the number to her phone. “Thanks. I’m Nina, by the way. This is my son, Marcos.” 

“It’s really nice to meet you, Nina,” you grinned, peering around her legs to her son, “and you too, Marcos.”

“Hi, honey, do you mind if I steal Y/n for a second?” Shavonne swept in from behind the couch. 

Nina shook her head, a brighter smile on her face as she returned her attention to her son. You stood and followed Shavonne, glancing back to find two other women had moved in your place beside Nina and began to play with her son. She was laughing before you made it to the other side of the room. 

***

“So how was it?” Bucky asked as you closed the door behind you, back safely inside the warm glow of the apartment. 

Natasha had walked you back, grinning ear to ear at how excited she was to teach self defense classes once a month down at Hope Haven. She’d arranged it with Shavonne while you were talking with Nina. Shavonne had been thrilled to find out Nat was on the team that helped dismantle Hydra. It seemed many of the women had their own connections to the vile men in that organization. 

You’d asked if you could volunteer on a few weekends a month and Shavonne, as warm and welcoming as she was, gave you a t-shirt on the spot and helped you fill out the forms at the kitchen table amongst the bowls of chips and mini-cupcakes. 

You smiled the whole way home. 

Bucky was watching you from his place on the couch, likely having barely moved since you left, though he was noticeably further along in his book. Cheddar was curled up in his lap, the soft orange hue of the lamp cast over him, waiting patiently under a starry night sky for you to return. 

“Really good,” you said, shrugging off your coat and crossing the room to him. Cheddar jumped up to the top of the sofa as you crawled on top of Bucky, resting your head on his chest, arms curling around his sides. “Just really glad I found you.”

Cheddar purred softly beside you, his tail swinging down and brushing against your shoulder blades. Bucky swept your hair from your face, pulling you up to press a kiss against your lips, short and sweet, before you nestled back in against him.

“Me too, love.”

Bucky propped his book up on your back and began to read aloud. Safe and content. Warm and sound. Exceptionally and emphatically loved. 

[moon-stars01]

~Sugar Rush~

Hoshi x Reader

Author:pseudomint

Summary: Kwon soonyoung finds himself becoming a regular customer in a local ice cream shop after meeting mingyu’s cute co-worker. Sounds normal—unless you leave out the fact that he dislikes sweets.

Pairing:Hoshi(Svt) x reader

Gene:Collage/University,Ice Cream polar,attempt at humor,flirting,Smitten Hoshi,Mingyu third wheeling,Jun and his pick up lines

Rating:Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count:6100

———————-

~SUGAR RUSH~

Hoshi stares at the cute, pastel building, decorated with stickers of ice cream illustrations on the big, glass windows and door. He checks his phone screen once again, only to see the exact picture of the building he found on the internet glaring back at him mockingly.

This is the place. He finally knows where Mingyu’s secret workplace is. Don’t ask him where he got the address from (he might have.. owed a certain pink haired devil named Jeonghan). All he has to do now is to storm inside the ice cream shop and make fun of Mingyu for all it’s worth.

Being friends with that guy for a long time, Hoshi has a vague idea of why would Mingyu hide his workplace. The guy has always been vocal about his worship for anything hip-related, evident by his love for classic Pop, several ear piercings, and fashion style. He’s studying art so that he can become a tattoo artist. Moreover, he has a history as a delinquent back in middle school.

So, working in a local, cute ice cream shop near their campus might not be included in Mingyu’s list of Top 10 Dream Jobs, even as a part-timer.

Hoshi stifles a grin as he pushes the door open, earning a chime from the bell above. The shop is quite vacant, save for three customers, minding their own businesses in three different seats, the ice cream on their plates or cups half-eaten. One of them is bobbing their head to the popular pop song that is heard through the wall speakers. As Hoshi continues to scan the pastel themed shop, his eyes finally land on the glass display, filled with various flavors and colors of ice cream.Hoshi can already feel a toothache—he’s never been a fan of sweets, after all.

Noticing the absence of the employees behind the counters, Hoshi spots a bell placed beside the cash register. His hand hovers above it, uncertain whether calling the shop clerk with a damn bell is even polite—obviously, this isn’t some kind of five-star gourmet restaurant. Not that Hoshi has ever been into one.

Thankfully, before Hoshi could dive further into his impromptu crisis, an employee emerges from the back door. He’s wearing a pastel blue uniform shirt and a pink apron with the shop’s logo on the left side of his chest. Such soft colors, contrast with the dark scowl on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing here, bastard?” Mingyu snarls, clearly aggravated by the mere of Hoshi’s presence alone.

And Hoshi can’t hold it back anymore. He laughs, folding his body in half, one hand clutching his gut as the other supports himself by gripping the counter. Fuck, this is funnier than he initially thought. No matter how he imagined it, the image of Mingyu and a cute ice cream shop just can’t be merged. Yet, here he is—the reality presented right before Hoshi’s eyes.Hoshi wheezes again.

“Stop fucking laughing,” Mingyu hisses, hands clenching on both of his sides. His face is flushed from anger with a mixture of embarassment. “This is why I’d never fucking tell you about this place!”

“Oh, it’s never about the place, ‘Mingyu,”Hoshi replies, wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes. “It’s always been about you.”

Mingyu growls. “I’m seriously gonna kick you out.”

“I’m a paying customer,” Hoshi smirks back. “Treat me like one.”

“Then act like one,” Mingyu snaps, folding his arms across his chest, frown deepening. “Though I bet you can’t even handle the sweetness.”“Gimme the menu.”

“There’s one behind me, written on the chalkboard, asshole.”

“Wow, brilliant customer service,” Hoshi deadpans. “Don’t you have the printed one or something?”

“Aren’t you spoiled?” the hipster grumbles as he magically pulls out a menu, printed on a laminated paper from behind the counter. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to slap it against Hoshi’s chest.The act, however, is caught by one of Mingyu’s co-worker who’s suddenly coming out of the back room.

“Mingyu-oppa! Why did you do that to a customer?!” She screeches, horrified at her oppa’s rude behavior. She’s way shorter than Mingyu, and shorter than Kazuya. She has a (h/s) (h/c) hair that somehow looks soft and fluffy as the strands bounce everytime she moves.When their eyes finally meet,Hoshi’s lost the ability to speak.

Now, Hoshi’s never been one to believe in love at first sight, albeit having heard the idea of it in many sappy romance films. Hoshi’s also met many girls he considers as good-looking, but that’s it. There were no imaginary flowers or love-shaped bubbles or sprinkles of glitters around them, like a typical page of shoujo mangas. He didn’t feel his heart pounding harshly against his ribcages. He’s positive that he had never blushed at someone without any good reason.But his cheeks have never felt warmer than this moment.

The girl in front of him is unbelievably cute; she has an air of innocence around her that makes Hoshi want to scoop her up (no ice cream puns intended) in his arms and pinch those slightly chubby, round cheeks. Her cute button nose is perfect for a nose boop, and oh, how Hoshi wishes to nip her pink, plump lips.The girl’s tongue darts out to lick the very same lips, before she opens her mouth.

“Um.. are you okay? Is my co-worker hurting you?” She asks, brows furrowing in worry. Hoshi forces himself to look at her in the eyes, which is apparently a bad decision, because for the love of baseball, he’s never seen someone having such beautiful, molten e/c eyes—

“He’s fine,” Mingyu answers, shooting Hoshi a knowing look. “Sadly, I gotta admit that he’s a friend of mine, so don’t worry about him, y/n.”

“Oh!” Y/n brightens up, giving Hoshi an impression of a cute dog perking up its ears and wagging its tail. “Finally this l/n y/n gets to meet one of Mingyu-oppa’s friends!” She says joyfully with a voice a bit too loud. “May I also have the honor of knowing your name?”

Hoshi briefly glances at Mingyu, as if asking whether he should be concerned of Y/n’s odd, archaic way of speaking, but Mingyu’s expression works as a wordless assurance that it’s nothing to be worried about.Then, after eyeing Y/n’s extended arm as an offer for a handshake, Hoshi takes it firmly with a smirk.

“The name’s Kwon Soonyoung but you can call me Hoshi,” he purrs, his thumb tracing a circle on the back of Y/n’s hand. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Y/n.”His smirk broadens when a blush blooms on the girl’s cheeks.

“Uh—likewise!” Y/n retracts her hand too quickly. “Um, I’ll let you proceed with your order with Mingyu-oppa—“

“The thing is,” Hoshi cuts her off, leaning on the counter, showing a feigned, saddest expression on his face. “Mingyu was bullying me,” he sighs. The said guy promptly sputters a series of denials. “And this is my first time here. I think I deserve a discount for the bad customer service, don’t you think?”

Y/n lets out a scandalized gasp, giving Mingyu a nasty, chiding glare for treating their customer poorly, even if they’re ‘friends.’ “Then you have my approval!” She declares, jabbing a proud thumb at her own chin. “Don’t worry! I’ll tell boss about the discount later! Now, please pick any flavors!”Hoshi’s mouth twitches as a bubble of laughter arises from his chest. This kid is so gullible, so genuine, so interesting. He almost feels bad for tricking him.Mingyu kicks Y/n’s legs, “Idiot! Can’t you see that he’s tricking you?!”

When y/n shoots a puzzled look at Hoshi, Hoshi’s laughter breaks free from his mouth. In return, he gets a bristling y/n who goes out of her way to be on the other side of the counter just to shake Hoshi’s collar and send him colorful insults. Not the most professional thing an employee should do to a customer, but it’s worth for Hoshi’s own entertainment.In the end, Hoshi’s the one who gets kicked out of the shop before he causes more commotions.

Hoshi comes back at Mingyu’s next shift, mentally convincing himself that he’s here to annoy the hell out of the hipster, not because Mingyu accidentally reveals the fact that y/n has the same schedule with him.Yeah, right.

He peeks over the big windows, and hesitates. The shop is more crowded than his last visit, as expected from weekends. It’s mostly filled with couples and giggling high school girls. Hoshi decides to sit on the unoccupied outdoor seats by the window, waiting for the beeline to lessen.

Fortunately, it doesn’t take long for the patrons to decrease. By the time he enters the shop, the jingle of the doorbell earns him an automatic response from y/n who’s not even looking at the door. “Welcome to—“ she glances at Hoshi, then frowns. “—oh, it’s you.”

“Oh? Do I see another bad customer service?” Hoshi smirks, strutting closer the counter.

“I’ll show you customer service,” Mingyu threatens, glowering at him.

Hoshi holds up his hands in defense, grinning, “easy there, ‘Mingyu”

“So, are you going to order, Kwon Soonyoung?” Y/n squints at him in suspicion. Pushing aside his inner glee of noticing a mundane detail such as Y/n remembering his full name, Hoshi ponders of giving her an honest reply or not. Will they kick him out once again if he admits that he can barely handle sweet things?

“Hoshi?” Y/n’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and his previous scorn is replaced with an owlish blinking. It makes Kazuya more aware of how y/n’s long eyelashes brush her cheeks whenever she closes her eyelids for a brief second.Pretty.“Hoshi!”Hoshi coughs and answers distractedly. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll order something.”

Mingyu stares at him like he’s grown a pair of horns, but it’s more like that he can’t seem to grasp that Hoshi, of all people, agrees to order something sweet.

“You sound uncertain, but worry not! The ice cream here will change your mind,” Y/n chirps with an eye smile. Hoshi can feel a thousand of cupid arrows piercing through his fragile, gay heart.

“Right, because Hoshi absolutely loves ice cream,” Mingyu mutters under his breath beside his co-worker with a blatant sarcastic tone.Y/n doesn’t seem to hear it, much to Hoshi’s relief.

“So...” Hoshi drawls, scrutinizing the menu near the cash register. “Do you have a flavor that isn’t too...” he grimaces at the next word, “sweet?”

“That’s impossible, go home.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Mingyu.”

“I can recommend you some,” Y/n replies, ignoring Mingyu and Hoshi’s glaring contest. “We have wasabi flavor, bitter melon flavor—“

“Some extreme recommendations you have there,” Hoshi sweatdrops.

“Hey! They taste fine, I guess,” Y/n looks hesitant herself. Hoshi wonders if the girl even understands basic marketing strategies—she could’ve at least pretended to be confident with her promotion. “I mean, I’m sure they’re better than natto flavored ice cream or anything.”

“You hate natto?” Hoshi smiles in amusement, inwardly happy to know one fact about Y/n.

“I despise it!” Y/n huffs, not even bothering to conceal her disgust. “Anyway! If you’re not interested with our out-of-the-world flavors, maybe you’d love our triple shot espresso ice cream! If you’re still not convinced, we still have a variety of diet frozen yogurts that are guaranteed to be low-sugar!”Hoshi hums at the mention of anything caffeine-related, “triple shot espresso ice cream doesn’t sound bad. Get me the smallest cup, y/n.”

“Roger!” Y/n beams, giving a military salute before she busies herself with Hoshi’s order. Her moves behind the counter are swift, practiced, and surprisingly not clumsy. Her hips sway a little to the beat of the music—whose great idea it is to play a suggestive jazz music at a fucking ice cream shop in Saturday afternoon?—but Hoshi’s not really complaining. In fact, he enjoys the show a bit too much; he doesn’t even realize that he’s been propping one arm on the counter to support his chin while watching y/n with a mushy smile.“Wipe that disgusting expression off your face,” Mingyu comments, unimpressed.“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah? As if I could overlook someone who looks like they’re seconds away from jumping my co-worker in public!” Mingyu hisses this time, still considerate enough to lower his volume.“Don’t worry, I’ll do that in private,” Hoshi winks.

“That’s not what I—“

“Do you want any additional toppings, Hoshi?” Y/n unintentionally interrupts their bickering. She’s now holding a small paper cup of a coffee-colored ice cream, head slightly to the side in an adorable manner, waiting for Hoshi’s response.

Although Hoshi’s brain is already short-circuited due to the amount of metaphorical sweetness that Y/n radiates, he still manages to croak out a reply of “almonds are fine”, in hoping that if the ice cream is still too sweet for his liking, the almonds would be able to balance the sugar.

Mingyu handles the payment without initiating any arguments with Hoshi for once, probably wanting to speed up the process of Hoshi leaving the shop. Either way, Hoshi has to leave indeed. He has other things to do, too.

“Thank you for purchasing, please come again~” come a chorus of synchronized phrase from Mingyu and Y/n; the former sounding bored and forced, while the latter sounding more cheerful.“I will,” Hoshi retorts jocosely, then flicks his gaze over Y/n, “if Y/n calls me her oppa, too.”

“Okay, Hoshi-oppa,” y/n breathes out without missing a beat. Her face instantly bursts into a myriad shades of red, complemented by a small, shy smile etched on her lips, and-Hoshi suddenly thinks he has a severe case of heart palpitations.

He inhales sharply, and turns his heels towards the door. “It’s decided, then,” he chuckles over his shoulder, giving his last smirk towards y/n, and exits the shop.

(He eats his ice cream on the way to his apartment and is genuinely surprised at the rich taste of coffee instead of sugar.It adds one more reason to visit the shop again.)

 Hoshi’s next visit includes an unwanted guest, much to Hoshi’s distaste.

For a better term, he was following Hoshi in secret. Usually, Hoshi would easily sense something behind his back, but the particular street that the ice cream shop is located at is always busy. It’s to be expected from a street that connects commercial, academic and several residential buildings. That being said, the crowd of people makes it hard for Hoshi to notice whether someone is following him or not.In the end, Jun makes his presence known loudly by the time he enters the shop.

“Oi, Hoshi! You refused to hang out with me just to buy some ice cream?!” he stomps his foot on the ground. “Wait, I thought you don’t like ice—“

Hoshi, who’s currently leaning on the counter right in front of Y/n, automatically massages the bridge of his nose and quickly interjects the purple haired before he spouts something unnecessary. “Jun, did you really follow me all the way here?”

“Does it matter?” the purple haired shrugs, sticking his nose up in the air. “I’m here now. That’s what you get from ditching me.”

Hoshi sighs in exasperation, “I did not ditch you. I told you to reschedule our hang out.”

“Same thing,” Jun scoffs stubbornly.

Mingyu bashes his forehead on the counter, emitting a depressed aura all over the shop. “Great. There goes all of my peace at work.”

“Oh, Mingyu! Fancy meeting you here!” Jun greets with a grin. “So you’re the reason why Hoshi’s here?”

“No,” both Mingyu and Hoshi say flatly.

“Um, are you going to order?” Y/n, who’s been observing the situation, speaks up, attracting a pair of black orbs towards him. Then, Jun regards Hoshi and Y/n, back and forth, in a thoughtful manner.

“Oh ho? I see now,” he grins wickedly, elbowing Hoshi to the side and takes over his place, resulting in the dancer stumbling and hitting the glass display of ice cream. Paying no attention to Hoshi’s heated glare, Jun leans over the counter and brings his face closer to Y/n. “You’re pretty cute, I guess. Hoshi has a good taste.”Y/n makes a choking noise from her throat, and Hoshi’s left eye twitches.

“Who the heck are you?” Y/n scrunches her nose, taking one step backwards defensively.

“Wen Junhui, but you can call me darling,” Jun smiles flirtatiously. Y/n only stares back with a palpable discomfort on her face.

“...Then, are you going to order?” She repeats hesitantly.

“Sure. As long as you’re included as the bonus.”

“Uh,” y/n frowns deeper. “May I know the flavor of your choice?”

“Anything would do,” Jun answers, “but if you were an ice cream, you’d be my favorite flavor.”

“What?”

“And I know you’d like me too,” jun then lowers his voice into a whisper, like he’s going to tell the world’s deepest secret, “because I have an 8” popsicle down there.”

Mingyu’s shoulders are shaking from laughter, finding the whole situation amusing and ridiculous. Any other day, Hoshi would, too, but right now, he only feels a second-hand embarassment from Jun’s abhorrent pick-up lines. Even y/n looks utterly unimpressed by Jun’s flirting.

“Alright, Jun, that’s enough,” Hoshi interjects impatiently. “No one wants to know about your nonexistent 8” popsicle dick.”Mingyu laughs louder.

“Tch, you’re no fun, Hoshi,” Jun glares at him childishly, then whirls his body towards Y/n crossing his arms in his usual bossy manner. “Fine, I’ll order something. Get me a big cup of butterscotch and vanilla ice cream with marshmallows and oreos on top.”

“...Coming right up,” slightly taken aback by the change of attitude, y/n mutters and wordlessly scoops the ice cream into the cup, while Hoshi is inwardly cringing from the amount of sugar Jun’s order has.

The purple haired pays and finally leaves the shop, not before gesturing a V-sign to his eyes and then to Hoshi’s—indicating that their conversation isn’t over.

Hoshi shakes his head. “There’s nothing to be discussed in the first place,” he mumbles under his breath. Jun dragged himself into this situation. Then again, Hoshi’s known Jun long enough to tell that the purple haired wasn’t seriously flirting with Y/n. The dancer could properly make his fangirls swoon if he wanted to.

Looking back to his prior act, however... it’s almost as if he was testing Hoshi, because his eyes were holding a familiar knowing gleam—the exact glint in Mingyu ’s eyes when Hoshi first met y/n.

“But seriously, who is he?!” Y/n fumes. “I can’t believe he made a dick joke straight to my face!”

“He’s Hoshi’s ex,” Mingyu grins, nudging

y/n with his elbow. The younger blanches, mouth gaping upon hearing the information.

“Yup, and I’m totally dating you, Mingyu,” Hoshi rolls his eyes.

“R-really?!” Y/n’s eyes grow as wide as a saucer. Hoshi bites back a grin, almost forgetting how gullible Y/n is.

“Relax, we’re lying,” he snorts. “Can I take my order now?”

“Oh, right!” Y/n straightens her back, although she doesn’t seem to be convinced by Hoshi’s reassurance.

Hoshi selects the exact menu he ordered on his last visit, although this time he chooses a cone rather than a paper cup. He also makes a mental note to try another variety of topping next time.

“You two looks close,” y/n comments all of a sudden as she works behind the counter. It doesn’t take a genius to know who Y/n is talking about.“Jun’s my childhood friend,” Hoshi

smiles, quirking an eyebrow at Y/n’s pout. She’s sulking, for some unknown reason, albeit Hoshi has a silly, vague (and hopeful) idea of it. “Rest assured, there’s nothing between us,” Hoshi continues, watching how Y/n subtly relaxes her shoulders. “That goes for me and Mingyu, too,” she adds as an afterthought. Mingyu has never nodded so aggresively.

“That explains why you guys are on a first name basis,” Y/n says abashedly, avoiding Hoshi’s gaze. “B-but! Your relationship is none of my business, of course! This

l/n y/n was just curious, please forgive me for prying!”

Still blushing, she shoves the cone under Hoshi’s nose. Hoshi chuckles and takes it, purposely brushing their fingers together, deepening y/n’s blush. Satisfaction sprouts inside his chest—even without any cheesy pick-up lines, y/n’s naturally a blushing mess around him.Adorable.

“This is sickening to watch,” Mingyu groans, “now pay up, bastard.”

Out of reflex, Hoshi gives him another snide remarks about bad customer service (again), to which Mingyu retaliates with another empty threats.

The doorbell jingles as two chatting customers enter the shop, and at the same time, it’s Hoshi’s cue to leave. He looks back at Y/n, who’s unexpectedly staring at him in silence, and grins cheekily when Y/n flinches due to being caught.“See you next time,” Hoshi says in soft tone, before he playfully boops y/n’s on the nose.

Y/n doesn’t—can’t—reply because she has to serve the next customers, but she manages to send a meek smile towards Hoshi’s direction.

Fuck, Hoshi thinks later, as he ambles back to his place. He can’t believe he finally had the balls to nose boop y/n. He can’t erase y/n’s blushing face from his mind. He can’t stop smiling giddily right now—passersby are probably whispering about him, but he couldn’t care less.All he cares is that he’s honestly in some deep shit.

~~~~~~

 Hoshi spends the next few weeks coming to the ice cream shop. He sometimes misses a day or two, partially due to being exhausted by dancing practice or just college in general. Another reason is because he’s fed up with eating ice cream (no matter how much he’s come to tolerate it a little ever since coming to the shop) and his diet as an athlete doesn’t allow him to overeat anything sweet. Which is ridiculous, since he doesn’t have other excuses to see Y/n; visiting the shop frequently without buying anything would be weird. Though, as days go by, he becomes more creative with his orders, like switching to low-sugar frozen yogurts or an iced Americano float (with the float being removed, much to Y/n’s confusion). Soon, he also finds out the existence of food—such as toasts and grilled sausages—in the shop’s menu.(“You need to stop ogling at Y/n and pay attention to our menu instead,” Mingyu once chastised wryly.)

Regardless, Hoshi enjoys most of his visits. Y/n is a fun person to talk to; Hoshi is often swayed by her personality and ends up being more talkative than he actually is, earning a frown from Mingyu. Later, Y/n reveals that she’s a dancer at Hoshi and Mingyu’s rival college, and she has jokingly asked Hoshi several times to dance against her.Hoshi’s never given an outright answer, however. As much as he wants to meet up with Y/n outside of the shop, he wants it as a date.

And that’s where the problem lies. He doesn’t know how to properly bring it up. He could ask Y/n in the shop, right beside Mingyu, but getting rejected in public would be awkward. In the end, that thought is always buried to the back of his mind.

Today is no different. Hoshi visits the the shop again—after being absent for a week prior—with no intentions of bringing up the date. As usual, he only wants to see the dancer. Even before stepping his feet inside, his heart thumps in anticipation to Y/n’s welcoming smile. So, as soon as he pushes the door open only to notice the absence of one of the workers behind the counters, his face falls.

“Asshole, I should’ve gotten offended of how disappointed your face is when you saw me instead of Y/n,” Mingyu scowls, to which Hoshi grins sheepishly. “She’s gonna be late today. I know what you’re thinking—she’s fine. There aren’t any dangerous emergencies or something like that, calm down.”

“I am calm,” Hoshi replies, burying his hands into his pockets. “I know she’s gonna be fine. She has such a caring co-worker after all,” he smirks at Kuramochi, who huffs in slight embarassment.

“Shut up. Who knows what stupid thing she’s gonna do,” the hipster’s lips curl downwards, an attempt to hold back his smile. “Anyway, since she’s not here yet, I can finally interrogate you.”

“What is there to interrogate?”

“What is y/n to you?” Mingyu ignores his words, giving him a pointed look instead. “If you’re only playing with her, Hoshi, I swear – “

“Oi, can’t you trust me a little?” Hoshi sweatdrops. “Do I look like some kind of heartthrob? You know me better than that, ‘Mingyu.”

“With your face, it’s easy to become one.”

“Very flattering.”

“Anyway, I’m being fucking serious right now,” Mingyu glowers at the dancer solemnly. “Tell me what you want from her.”

Hoshi eventually sighs, and briefly scans the whole shop. Luckily, it’s one of the weekdays, so there aren’t many customers inside. Besides, they’re too engrossed in their conversations or electronical devices to eavesdrop on Hoshi and Mingyu.

“Look, I don’t want anything from her,” Hoshi begins slowly, but he’s only rewarded with a skeptical look from Mingyu. “Okay, maybe I’ve been meaning to ask her on a date, but—“ he narrows his eyes at the hipster. “Wait, she’s single, right?”

“Isn’t it a bit too late to be asking that?” Mingyu purses his lips into a thin line.

“Oh, Hoshi, you’re here!”

Both the hipster and the dancer whip their head alarmingly to the familiar voice. There stands y/n with her trademark grin, her bag slung around her shoulder. Panic blossoms inside of Hoshi’s chest—he didn’t hear the jingle of the doorbell, and judging from Mingyu’s startled response, he didn’t, too. They don’t know how long has the dancer been standing there. It’d be bad if Y/n managed to hear their conversation.

So, Hoshi studies y/n’s facial expression, searching for something, but the dancer only looks perplexed—probably due to Hoshi’s sudden stillness.

“Hoshi?” Y/n blinks up at him, making Hoshi more conscious of their height difference. Eyes trailing down to her neck, the pastel-colored collar of the shop’s uniform peeks out of her oversized sweater that falls until her mid-thigh, with the sleeves covering up her whole hands.

Sweater paws, Hoshi’s mind shuts down as tiny Hoshi’s inside his brain run in circles, screaming “ABORT! ABORT!” with high-pitched voices. She’s fucking wearing sweater paws.

“Hoshi-oppa!” Y/n frowns, successfully drawing Hoshi’s attention. “Don’t zone out like that, you’re scaring me.”

“Right, sorry,” the dancer mutters as he watches Y/n disappearing into the back room, before she shows up again without her sweater while tying the apron on her lower back.

“I see that you haven’t ordered something!” Y/n grins brightly, this time placing both of her hands on her hips. “So, what are you here for today, Hoshi?”

Hoshi, still distracted, racks his brain to all of the menu he’s ordered in the past. Triple shots espresso ice cream with almonds. Iced americano float, but without the float. Wasabi ice cream because he was feeling adventurous. Hazelnut spread and sliced banana on toast—

No, that’s not What hoshi wants all of this time. He wants—

“You,” he blurts out, mumbling, unaware of Mingyu choking in the background. However, when he notices the lack of response from the dancer, the haze in his brain suddenly dissipates, and everything becomes crystal clear again. “Shit, I mean—“

“Okay,” Y/n says, e/c orbs shyly peeking from underneath her lashes towards Hoshi.

“I was—huh, what?” Hoshi pauses, dumbfounded.

“I said okay,” Y/n averts her eyes, playing with the hem of her apron. “You can have me.”

Hoshi stares and stares, trying to process Y/n’s affirmation. That sounds too suggestive—too good to be true. Maybe his brain is tricking him. Maybe this is only a scene that he unconsciously creates inside his mind which is brought to life in a form of hallucination.

But when Y/n starts to fidget under his gaze, Hoshi lets his brain register the fact that this is, indeed, a reality.

As the gears inside him begin to work again, Hoshi doesn’t pass the chance to poke some fun at Y/n’s answer which basically serves as a free teasing material for Hoshi to use.

“Oh? How bold,” he then comments, smirking in satisfaction as he observes how realization gradually dawns on Y/n’s face.

“I didn’t mean to phrase it like that!” the dancer exclaims defensively, her cheeks now tainted with red. “Y-you were the one who blurted out weird things in the first place!”

“Sorry, sorry~” Hoshi grins unapologetically, to which Y/n pouts at. “But, as tempting as it sounds, you should let me take you on a date first, y’know,” he continues, his playful grin faltering a little due to slight nervousness.

To his relief, Y/n utters a timid “okay” and nods, a tint of pink still decorating her cheeks. At that, Hoshi doesn’t bother to hide the ever-growing smile on his lips and an excited glance to Mingyu who’s pretending to read a magazine and acting all disinterested, albeit the small curl on the corner of his mouth tells otherwise.

The next thing Hoshi knows is him exchanging phone numbers with the dancer and discussing their date in a short stretch of time due to the arrival of a group of customers.

Hoshi doesn’t get any ice cream that day, but he does get something—someone—sweeter in return.

 ~Three months later~

 Hoshi sips on his hot, black coffee, the steam fogging up the lenses of his glasses. He steps aside when a patron comes out of the shop hurriedly, but he manages to halt the door from closing with his right knee. Hoshi then opens the door big enough for his body to get inside as the familiar chime of the doorbell greets his ears. The shop is silent, empty without customers, highly caused by the “CLOSED” sign on the door with a red, thick font.“I’m sorry, we’re already closed—“ Y/n says from Hoshi’s left side while stacking some brochures. When she finally turns her head towards the door, a beatific smile appears on her face. “Oh! Hoshi.”

Hoshi smiles back, placing his coffee on the counter and leans towards Y/n, to which the latter eagerly closes the gap between their mouths. They share a quick kiss as a greeting, before Hoshi withdraws slightly.

“Hey,” he murmurs, lips brushing over

y/n’s. He steals one or two more kisses, just because he can’t help himself.

“Hi to you too,” Y/n whispers, giggling. Hoshi cradles his lover’s cheeks with one of his palms, prompting Y/n to nuzzle against it. From here, he can also make out Y/n’s e/c eyes twinkling in delight—so captivating and blinding that it stupefies him.

“For someone who’s on her last day of work, you sure look happy,” Hoshi comments, arching an amused brow.

“I am happy!” Y/n replies, pulling away fully to finish her tidying duty. She moves swiftly behind the counters, the sole of her shoes creating noisy sounds against the tiled floor. “But not in a way you’re thinking.”

“Enlighten me, then,” Hoshi says, bringing the paper cup of his half-drunk coffee to his mouth and takes a sip.

“I like this job,” Y/n confesses, finishing her work and untying her apron. “My co-workers are nice, and my boss is generous to give me discounted ice cream.”

“I think the latter plays a bigger part,” Hoshi teases, knowing Y/n’s sweet tooth.

“Shut up,” the dancer juts her tongue out. “Meeting you here is what makes this job more special,” Y/n casually states, offering a smug smirk at Hoshi’s flabbergasted expression.

“Wow, Y/n,” he breathes out, before whistling with a shake of head. “You sure become bolder with your words nowadays.”

“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?!”Y/n questions, pupils turning cat-like.Hoshi hums. “Well, you used to blush so much around me—“

“That’s – “ as if on cue, red creeps up to y/n’s cheek. “That’s because you always gave me those kind of eyes and used that kind of voice—!”

“What about now?”hoshi smirks, revelling in the way Y/n gets all worked up because of him. A nasty personality he has, indeed.

“Ugh, I’m not gonna talk about it!” the dancer scrunches her nose, a habit that Hoshi’s taken to notice whenever Y/n is frustrated. “Anyway! I was talking why I feel happy to quit work! It’s because I can spend more time with you now!”If Hoshi’s heart pulsates rapidly due to the abrupt swarm of affections in his veins, he does a great job of hiding it. “The real reason why you quit is because of the upcoming dancer season. We’d still be busy, either way,” he points out instead.

“Must you be so pessimistic, Hoshi?” Y/n pouts, looking a little dejected. Hoshi exhales guiltily.

“My bad,” he chuckles, ruffling the crown of Y/n’s head. “You know that I’d always try to make time for you, right, Y/n?”

“Of course you do, you whipped asshole. Only you would come to a shop that sells something you dislike.”

“Mingyu-oppa!” Y/n jumps due to

Mingyu’s unannounced appearance from the back room, before gawking at his revelation. “Wait, what? Does Hoshi not like ice cream?”

“Ask him yourself,” Mingyu shrugs.

Y/n immediately whirls towards Hoshi, displaying her best puppy face to lure the truth out of her boyfriend. And concede Hoshi does, not before shooting daggers at a snickering Mingyu.

“Yes, y/n, I don’t eat much sweets. You happy now?” he admits reluctantly, tugging the collar of his jacket in embarassment.

“Oh my god, Hoshi!” Sawamura bounces on her feet. “After all of this time, you didn’t come here for the ice cream?!”

Hoshi sighs, not before downing the remnant of his coffee and throwing it in the nearest trash bin. “I don’t see what the issue is. It’s not like I exactly loathe ice cream, I just can’t handle it if it’s too sweet—“Y/n, however, wastes no time to approach Hoshi on the other side of the counter, circling her arms around Hoshi’s neck and kisses him hard on the mouth.

The hipster groans in agony, covering his face with his right palm. “This isn’t the outcome that I wanted,” he bemoans, lamenting in his misery.

Hoshi laughs nasally, eyes closing in pure mirth as Y/n continues to pepper kisses on his face. It eggs Mingyu even more as he seethes in irritation.“Okay, stop it, Y/n! Why the fuck are you so pleased at the idea of Hoshi trying to get himself diabetes for you?”

“Oi, that’s too exaggerating, don’t you think?” Hoshi sweatdrops.

Y/n ends her ministration and frowns at Mingyu. “But Mingyu-oppa! If I were in Hoshi’s shoes, I’d do the same! But currently he’s not working in a natto-based restaurant or something, so I shall reward his bravery in some other way!”

“Don’t do it here,” Mingyu snaps, “I’ve cleaned and locked all shit in the back room while you were busy with that idiot. Grab your bag and sweater and just go home.”Teary-eyed, Y/n beams brightly, “I express my sincerest gratitude for you,

Mingyu-oppa!” She exclaims, before dashing to the back room to collect her belongings.“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu waves her off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t read too much into it. It’s my last day too, figures I’d do more than usual.”

“Aw, it wouldn’t hurt to admit that you care for her, ‘Mingyu,” Hoshi coos.

“And you!” Mingyu then throws the dancer a resentful look. “You owe me for all of the time you’ve made me into a fucking thirdwheel, bastard!”

At that moment, Y/n has come back, already clad in her warm, oversized sweater, and proceeds to stand next to Hoshi. That’s when an idea strikes him.

“Thirdwheel?” Hoshi asks, tilting his head at Mingyu in a faux innocuousness. He pulls his unsuspecting girlfriend closer by the waist, to which Y/n lets out a soft gasp. “Whatever do you mean by that, Mingyu?”

“Huh?” Mingyu croaks out, widening his eyes when Hoshi lowers his head to Y/n’s face with a shit-eating grin.

“What are you – shit, don’t you two dare making out again – give me a damn break, I’m trying to close the shop here! If you two don’t stop right now, I’m gonna kick out both of you with a fucking broom – oi, did you hear me?! Alright, for fuck’s sake, Y/n, save the moan for later and GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE—“

[shirtlesssammy]

2x07: The Usual Suspects

Then:

Sam and Dean Winchester, professional grifters

Now:

Baltimore, Maryland

The cops have finally caught up with Sam and Dean Winchester. The SWAT team surrounds their motel room and takes them into custody. One cops sums up all of Dean’s killer ways at his interrogation. Dean is unaffected.  (Because he’s not a killer.) 

Sam, meanwhile, gets the good cop for his interrogation.

She reads off Sam’s life story to him and he lays on the Winchester snark in return. They’re trying to break this straight A student to get more information on his derelict older brother.

Sam starts talking.

Flashback to why Sam and Dean were in Baltimore when they got caught. John and a man who recently died,Tony Giles, were old friends. They were hunting an invisible killer. (And for the record, it’s clear that Cas is Scully. Sam is Skinner, third-wheeling the far more compelling duo the whole way.) 

Sam tells the cop that they weren’t even in town when Tony died.

They went to visit Tony’s widow, Karen (and secret publisher of Sam and Dean’s life story!). Dean asks if Tony talked about anything strange in his life before he died. She mentions he had a nightmare about a woman with red eyes.

Sam and Dean then were spotted breaking into Tony’s office. They’re thinking a vengeful spirit. Dean finds a bunch of papers with the words “danashulps”

Sam then finds the name finger-smudged on Tony’s glass desk. They look but can’t find that name anywhere.

Dean goes to ask Karen if she knows anything about this name. Sam tells the cop that he went to make sure she was doing okay. Sam stayed to crack Tony’s computer password but tells the cop that he went back to the hotel.

Twist! Apparently, Karen is dead too! The cop tells Sam that the brothers separated because Dean was heading to murder Karen. The 911 call indicated that someone was in the house with Karen.

We get a flashback of Karen seeing a woman in the window of her house. She runs upstairs and calls 911.

Her phone disconnects, her lights flicker and then her printer starts printing “danashulps’. She heads to her closet to pull out a flashlight, and turns around to find the woman!

Dean knocks on her door some time later. When she doesn’t respond, he lets himself in. The lights aren’t working. He finds her dead on her bedroom floor. He notices bruising on her wrists. And that’s when the cops find him.

The coppers reunite to confirm that the brothers’ stories match. Good Cop tells Bad Cop that they have to get Sam to flip on his brother or they don’t really have a case —no murder weapon, no motive.Bad Cop insists that this case is in the bag. They’ve got Dean’s prior in St. Louis after all. Good Cop —now known as Diana—informs the audience that Bad Cop was good friends with Giles. Also, Diana and Bad Cop are in a secret office romance.

While Dean waits out his interrogation, he stews over the name “danashulps”.

He guesses that it’s not a name. Sam, who has access to a pen and paper, starts the anagram game. Dean plays the game in his head AND HE’S MY SMART BOY FOR IT. Dean’s public defender, Jeff Krause shows up then. Dean doesn’t seem to care that someone within the legal world has come to help him —he just needs a pen and paper. He breaks down the word and asks Jeff if he recognizes anything. Jeff worries that Dean isn’t taking this seriously.

Jeff points out that Ashland is a street name in the area. Dean asks if he can see Sam.

Diana is typing up the police report when suddenly her computer starts writing “danashulps” over and over again. It only happens for a few seconds, the screen filling with seemingly nonsense characters, and then it reverts back to normal again. 

Jeff visits with Sam and hands him over the paper from Dean pointing out that Ashland is a street. Before he can get into Sam’s defense case, he’s called back to Dean’s holding room. Dean’s decided to confess!

In one quick line, Dean yoinks the rug out from under the cops. “I did not kill anyone,” he states at the start of his purported confession, but he knows who did it. “Our working theory is that we’re looking for some kind of a vengeful spirit.” This goes over just as well as you might imagine with most of the cops. But Diana sees the DANASHULPS scrawled on his sheet of paper and has an OH NO moment. When they accuse him of the murders in Saint Louis, he casually tells them it was a shapeshifter.

With Dean Winchester written off as a lost cause, they head in to question Sam. To their surprise, he’s escaped! Diana finds Dean’s letter about Ashland and I SHAKE MY HEAD AT YOUNG SAM WINCHESTER for leaving a clue for the cops.

In the ladies room, Diana discovers the overhead lights are out. All the taps turn on, steaming hot to fog up the mirrors so Ghosty can write her catch phrase on the glass. The ghost also spectral projects herself to Diana, mouth moving like she’s trying to say something. Shaken, Diana heads back to talk to Dean “Crazy Occult Guy” Winchester. 

Dean tells her that vengeful spirits originate from violent deaths. My Smartest Buttercup notices that Diana has fresh bruises encircling her wrists. She doesn’t remember getting them. Dean warns her that death is stalking her now, and tells her to seek Sam’s help for protection against the spirit. 

At Sam’s motel, she gives him the lowdown and shows him the bruises on her wrists. Sam gives her a stack of victim photos to see if any of them match the ghost. Diana identifies Claire Becker as the ghost. She was a heroin dealer in life, and might be targeting Diana for her narcotics work. Sam and Diana team up to salt and burn Claire’s body at an abandoned store on Ashland. Claire makes an appearance during the search, but only seems to want to reveal herself to Diana. They find the mystery word - it’s Ashland - and a half erased word fragment. Sam busts out the wall the clues have pointed them towards. They haul out Claire’s body. Around her neck, there’s a necklace. Diana knows it well...because she’s wearing an identical necklace!!! Her office romance Pete gave it to her. DUN dun dun. Sam concludes that Claire isn’t killing anybody. Instead, her spirit is functioning as a death omen. 

The killer...is PETE. Diana’s a quick thinker, and remembers that heroin went missing from evidence a year ago. Pete would have used Claire to fence the drugs, and later killed her. 

Cut to Pete driving Dean Winchester to parts unknown at two in the morning. Dean’s a quick thinker too, and realizes he’s about to be murdered by a crooked cop. Dean gets hauled from the van. Welp. Looks like he shall meet his end in a sloppy cop drama! 

Diana confronts Pete, who tries to blame Claire’s death on...Claire for trying to turn Pete in. He spills everything. The other guy who died was in on the scheme, and Pete killed his wife for good measure. Pete insists that killing Dean - “one more dead scumbag” - is the best approach. I hiss, and fist bump Dean when he tries to defend himself against the “scumbag” accusation. Diana shoots Pete somewhere nonlethal, but Pete still manages to get the upper hand. Claire appears to him then and smirking, draws Pete’s full attention. Diana shoots him clean through the chest. 

Afterwards, Diana asks about Claire. “She should be at rest,” Sam assures her. I...side-eye this young man and then let it go because it IS the television show, Supernatural, after all.

Diana tells them the cover story: Pete confessed to her before his death, and the suspects escaped. Dean and Sam head out to rescue Baby, and we get a wink at Diana’s (Linda Blair) Exorcist acting legacy in case you missed it.

What an Excellent Quote for an Exorcism:

You want me to turn against my own brother?

I'm not Scully, you're Scully

My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[bemybstar]

Legoshi x reader? Whatever species you want. a transfer student who Legosi's curious about, always wearing a scarf around her neck & covering her mouth, he thinks he's bothering her since she doesn't reply back to him, until saving her one night from a carnivore, strangely she showed no fear, wanting her scarf back, which he gives to her, as he then sees bite marks around her neck... she's a mute, survived a attack from childhood, and she breaks down, first time someone's been kind to her...

A/N: Thanks so much for requesting! Inbox is still open for requests and feedback is highly appreciated! Gif doesn’t belong to me.

It’s been over a month since you first made your new life here at Cherryton Academy. You had just transferred from your old school ever since your parents moved to the city because of their new job promotions. You weren’t all that pleased with the overall decision since leaving the country side in exchange for city life wasn’t something you had in mind, but because they were your parents you had no where else to turn to.

The school had its pros and cons like anything you were faced with but you still managed to make the most of it starting with your first new friend, Haru. She spotted you sitting alone during lunch and asked if she could join you which you happily agreed to by nodding your head. The conversation if you could call it that was mostly one sided since Haru did all of the talking. You would agree by giving a small “mhmm” as an answer to any of her questions, you weren’t much a talker to begin with but Haru wasn’t one to pry about your past. That’s what you admired most about her and that’s why you trusted her as your very best friend.

“What class do you have now?” Haru asked as you followed her down the hall. You pointed to the class on your schedule and stopped once you made it to the door. “Seaspeak huh? That’s interesting I have history but I’ll meet you back at the dorm. Bye Y/N!” Haru said as you waved back and entered the crowded classroom filled with animals already in their seats.

You walked up the aisle to take yours, placing your bag down and opening your notes to the chapter that was highlighted on the board. “In the sea communication is done by using sounds and bubbles rather than words,” your professor started off with as you began to jot everything down.

Grabbing your interest on the topic you were suddenly distracted by a male voice who asked for your attention. “Hey Uhh. Do you happen to have an eraser I can borrow?” You knew who that voice belonged to, a male grey wolf by the name of Legosi, this is the first time he’s spoken to you since you joined the class.

“Mhmm,” you replied handing him your spare eraser you keep hidden in the front pocket of your backpack. “Oh thanks,” he says taking it from you. The bell then starts to ring as your professor yaps on about a paper that’s due next week when the smell of egg salad sandwiches invades your concentration. You lift up your nose to catch a whiff but Legosi notices and offers you a piece.

“Here, take it. It’s the least I could do since you shared your eraser with me. Egg salad sandwiches are my favorite especially on Wednesday’s,” He informs as you take the other half giving him a soft nod in return to his kindness. You quietly gather up your things, push your chair in, and wave goodbye before you head back down to leave in time for your next class.

“You sure love those egg salad sandwiches,” Jack approaches Legosi right after adding, “Hey! What happened to the other one?”

“Oh! I gave it to Y/N since she let me use her eraser,” Legosi tells him. “I never knew she liked them,” Jacks says. “Neither did I...,” Legosi adds.

“Hmm,” Jack hums. “Isn’t this the first time you’ve talked to her?”

“Well... yes and no,” Legosi answers shyly. “I did say hi to her that one time in drama club when she dropped something off for Louis but before I could ask her anything... she was gone.”

“Maybe she had somewhere else to be,” Jack encourages him. “Or maybe... she doesn’t like me,” Legosi says with his head hanging low in guilt. “What! Come on, no way! Maybe she’s just as shy as you are when it comes to making the first move. Try to get to know her and see.” Legosi took his friends advice to heart, one way or another he was gonna keep trying and get this right.

The night was drawing in as you headed back to the girls dorm after a long and tiring lecture from your final class of the day. The lamp lights paved the way as your guide to the dorms main entrance where you would be greeted by Haru and get a chance at some well needed rest. But your peaceful state would soon come to a hault when you stopped dead in your tracks and perked your ears up in defense. Someone was following you...

You started to pick up your pace but your feet weren’t fast enough for the large carnivores chasing after you. You quickly turned around ready to incounter them only to be tripped by an overgrown tree root causing you to fall back onto the dirt road. Fear clouded your eyes as the mysterious figures stepped into the light baring smirks of succeeding in getting a kick out of you.

“You should have seen the look on your face!” The first guy said as his friend began to laugh maliciously, both of them carnivores and ironically both of the same species; Western Coyotes.

“She probably thought we were gonna bite her face off,” the second one said as you glared furiously at them. “You wolves are dumber than ya look.” That’s what got you the most so you decided to do something about it. By the time he turned the other way you managed to kick him in the face so hard he went flying. And by the looks of it his friend didn’t appreciate your temper.

“You little bitch,” he growled coming straight into contact with your now exposed face and gripped you by the collar of your school uniform. “Your gonna pay for that,” he snarled as he lifted his arm up to reveal his sharp claws. You closed your eyes and were ready to accept your fate once again when suddenly a familiar voice broke through the air.

“Enough!” It was Legosi. “Leave her alone. Now!,” the coyote turned to look at him suspiciously. “I SAID NOW!”

“Oh yeah?” Who are you her boyfriend or something... What are you gonna do? Make me?” He was toying with Legosi and he knew it. The coyote let go of his grip on you and took a fighting stance next to Legosi waiting for the perfect moment of attack. “He-he’s not worth it. That’s the same wolf who nearly killed Bill on stage,” his friend who managed to dust himself off finally spoke up. “Just forget it,” he added.

The coyote began to growl heavily when his friend snapped him out of it by the tug of his arm. “Come on, let’s go!” He said as the other obeyed following in pursuit as they both took off in a hurry.

Legosi stared them down until they were long gone from his sight, he quickly turned to check on you and what he saw was enough to shatter his heart into a million little pieces. You were crying... and this time weren’t trying to hide it. He approached you carefully and sat down leaning his back against the cold concret wall. He spotted your silk scarf across from him and held it out for you to take as you started to calm down little by little.

“H-here,” he says nervously. “I think this belongs to you,” Legosi says as he catches a glimpse of your face for the first time. “T-thanks,” you sniffle and take the scarf from his hand but don’t decide to put it on just yet. “I-I’m sorry you have to see me like t-this.” The secret you intended to keep hiding was finally revealed... the scars of your past.

A bite mark roamed the left side of your neck, little traces of fangs can be seen leaving their print on your fur... forever. The incident happened a long time ago and it isn’t a day you like to remember. The bite mark came from a coyote during your childhood days, you saw him picking on a rabbit and decided to step in. One thing led to another and all you have now is this scar to remember it by. The incident shook you so badly that you decided to go silent ever since and only speak when spoken to.

“You have no reason to apologize,” Legosi said wipping a tear from your eye. “Your scars don’t define you. You being the best version of yourself you can be, does. Your beautiful inside and out and if anyone bothers to tell you differently then... they aren’t worth your time.”

“That’s the first time anyone’s ever stood up for me like that.” You say shyly trying your best not to shed another tear. He gets up from his spot and offers his hand to help you up from off the ground. He stares at you and you stare back before going in for a hug, you can hear his heartbeat grow faster by the sudden show of affection.

“Thanks Legosi,” is all you can say. He gives in and holds you in his arms finally opening his mouth to complete, “Your welcome.”

You stay like that for what feels like forever. But why do you feel so safe in his arms and why don’t you want him to stop? You guess time will only tell but until then all you can do is enjoy this sweet moment with the boy who saved your life.

———

Tag list - (just ask to be added)

@starr60

Hope y’all enjoyed! Let me know if y’all want a follow up!

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

U N P L A N N E D, part 3

*tw: discussion of abortion*

Glenne answered the door and forced a smile, but you could tell she was barely holding it together. It was Harry’s idea, really, to make her host a casual dinner on Tuesday night--a good reason for us to all be in the same room.

Glenne agreed, only after she got you on FaceTime to give all of the details, word for word, about the conversations you’d had. The only decision you made at this point was that Harry would tag along to the next appointment--you wondered what he’d do in a room with a plastic uterus and a poster of a vagina on the wall.

Los Angeles had a certain spring time glow to it--Lexi drove the two of you up to Jeff and Glenne’s, a side street with lots of homes, ones that certainly cost more than you’d make in 10 years. 

Jeff seemed more than happy to have you all over, he made a quick joke under his breath about your sleeping with his client when he set the bruschetta down on the table. You’d seen him since then, but only once. Apparently it hadn’t been long enough for him to get over the teasing.

Harry’s laugh floated in from the kitchen while you placed the silverware on napkins. A hushed voice, “don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?”

“I’m kidding,” Jeff laughed, his tone apologetic. “He’s a nice guy--you should get to know him.” That’s what he probably thought this was--Glenne’s attempt to play matchmaker for two friends. 

An awkward beat. “Oh whatever, let’s not make it weird.”

He looked through the doorway into the other room, his voice more hushed than before. “He’s definitely into you!” 

You stopped in your tracks, looking up from the table after you adjusted the final place setting. “What do you mean?”

A shrug of his shoulders, he brushed a crumb off the table. “He asked me about you the other day.”

“When?”

“Friday.” 

The day you spoke on the phone. Before he knew--whatever interest he had in you had likely diminished by now. “Said he was glad you finally reached out.” He smirked at you, raised his eyebrows quickly, somehow insinuating that there might be a repeat of the last time you and Harry hung out.

You didn’t have time to ask for more clarification, though, get more details out of him or tell him that the only reason you’d reached out in the first place was to deliver the news. But you were cut short--Glenne stuck her head into the dining room and asked for more help in the kitchen.

Jeff uncorked another bottle of wine at the end of the night, distracted altogether by the story Lexi was telling about her co-star. You picked up the plates in front of Glenne, put them in the dishwasher one by one to help with clean up.

He’s got more self-control than you for sure, Lexi teased when you were out of earshot, tossing a napkin into the trash. He’s waiting until the very end. 

Which he did--it wasn’t until you were all stood around the island in their kitchen, sink filled with dishes and wine glasses nearly empty. Jeff had already made a face in your direction when Harry skipped your glass. Headache, you lied. Been terrible all day. 

He cleared his throat. “Uh, Jeff--listen, you know when we had that party at my house in April? After we finished in the studio?”

His eyes flickered to you quickly, a small smile on his face when he nodded. Glenne stiffened beside him, Lexi watched with careful eyes. 

“And you know what happened between us that night,” he motioned between the two of you with a finger, sounding calmer than you expected, like he’d been practicing in front of a mirror or alone in his car. 

He hadn’t told you how he felt about telling him--you’d only exchanged a few texts between the last time you saw him and tonight. But he seemed fine enough all evening, even now, his voice was steady when he leaned forward on the counter. 

Jeff looked between the two of you, completely lost. He looked over to Glenne before Harry spoke again. 

“Y/N’s pregnant.”

There was still a jump in your pulse, but less this time. Something about the way Harry seemed so calm and collected was contagious. He looked over at you and offered a small smile, maybe one of reassurance or unity. 

Jeff let out a laugh. “Good one, man--you’re a dick.”

Lexi frowned, Glenne reached for Jeff’s arm. 

Harry’s voice was low. “M’not kidding.”

“Come on,” Jeff looked over to Glenne, then to Lexi, then you. “I’m not falling for that.”

“He’s not kidding, babe.”

Now your pule rose substantially. Jeff’s face seemed to shift from one of humor and amusement, more towards anger and concern. “What? You’re not fucking with me?”

“M’not fucking with you.”

You looked over to Lexi, ready to make an exit if needed. You felt suddenly protective, if you were actually growing something inside of you, dealing with the tension in the room surely couldn’t be good for either of you. 

Jeff was quiet for a second, a deep breath, a look around the room. Like he wanted to be anywhere but here and talking about anything but this. You knew the feeling well.

He looked towards you. “How did you find out?”

“I’ve taken four tests. Two on my own, two at the doctors.”

“And it’s real? A doctor said it’s real?”

You nodded.

“And you believe her?”

Silence--everyone but Jeff seemed to stare at the floor.

He asked again. “Do you?”

Harry looked around awkwardly. “Yeah--I do.”

“How do we know she’s not lying? How do we know you’re actually the father?”

“Jeff,” Glenne tried to calm him down, emotion in her voice that let you know his question bothered her. She reached for him again, he pulled his arm out of reach. 

You got red in the face, a heat down your spine when he looked at you, waiting for an answer or a response or some type of defense. “I have the tests that I showed him.”

“I made her take another in front of me. She had all the stuff printed from the doctor. I’m going with her next week.”

Jeff was still, like he hadn’t expected Harry to say all of that. “You knew about this?”

A sigh of relief when his attention was no longer directed at you. Glenne nodded slowly. “Only for a few days--she’s freaked out, too, okay? This isn’t good news for anyone.”

Jeff blew air from between his lips. “I know--I know. I just--this is literally terrible timing with the album coming and--”

Harry shrugged, “forget the album. We can push it back. It doesn’t have to be a summer release.”

“Well it fucking can’t be now if we’re going to be busy dodging pregnancy rumors.”

“What do you mean, dodging?” Your voice was quiet, but when Jeff looked down at you, he softened. 

“We can’t--he can’t just talk about this or run with it. We’ve already seen what happens to someone like him when there’s a baby in the picture.”

You knew what he meant--you’d heard them make jokes before about the others, Harry’s old bandmates who hadn’t been careful and who’d found themselves in the same situation. Your shoulders slumped at the realization that now, you put him there, too. 

“Okay, just stop, alright? You’re not helping,” Harry held a hand up and shook his head. “Clearly this is a big fucking deal and we have to figure shit out, but--I think her and I have a lot to figure out before you do.”

Lexi leaned against the counter, sipped at her wine with wide eyes like she was witnessing a soap opera. 

“He’s right, Jeff,” Glenne finally grabbed his arm now, rubbed at his sleeve, her voice a desperate attempt to soothe him. “They have a lot of talking to do. Don’t get ahead of them.”

More tears burned in your eyes--if anything, at this point, you would have thought that they’d all be gone, dried up. 

“I should go,” you said, turning quickly to reach for your phone and purse on the counter behind you. “I’ll, uh, I’ll just take an Uber, Lexi, no rush.”

“Y/N, wait,” she trailed behind you, following you towards the front door, out onto the steps and down to the walkway. Jeff and Glenne’s house was also immaculate, a gate by the road to keep out unwelcome visitors--a view of the city that sparkled in the night sky. 

“It’s fine, Lexi, I’m fine. I just want to go to bed.”

You heard her shoes click on the pavement. “Stop, dude--just hold on. Everyone is going to need time to process this.”

“I know,” you turned around. “I know they do--but so do I! I’m the one who’s actually pregnant, okay? Not him, not Jeff, not you, not Glenne.”

“I know,” she said, a solemn nod. “You know how Jeff is, alright? He’s just a perfectionist. You should be able to relate, honestly.”

“I don’t want to be shamed or blamed for this--I didn’t fucking mean to get pregnant!”

The door opened again, this time, Harry stood in the shadows, face half illuminated by the light beside the entrance. “Sorry--I, uh, I can go back inside.”

“No,” Lexi said suddenly, waving a hand in your direction before heading towards him. “I’ll go inside. I’ll see you at home,” she spoke over her shoulder to you as she climbed the steps back up to the house. You weren’t sure if she was angry or tired or a mix of the two. 

Harry stepped aside, the door swinging once on it’s hinge before it clicked into place. You pulled out your phone, opened the Uber app, and pressed a button on the inside of the gate to set it into motion. A few steps forward to the curb before you sat, unconcerned about potential grass stains on your new jeans. 

He walked over to you, hands in the pockets of his striped pants. “Sorry about that--about Jeff, I mean.”

You didn’t even look up at him, too busy dragging the location pin to sit on top of their digital driveway. “It’s fine.”

He sat beside you, rested his elbows on his knees. “He’s stressed, which I get, but you are too. It’s not just my life that this changes. I mean--if you keep it.”

You nodded, set your phone down on your lap and then looked over at him. “I know that you don’t know me, but for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t make this up or do this on purpose. I have my own life and career and I’m supposed to be getting a promotion soon--I don’t get anything out of this.”

He let a breath escape his lips, more of a sigh, before he laid back on the grass and closed his eyes. A mumble from between his lips. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Warmth in your chest--unsure of why he was quick to believe you, but grateful he did. 

“Jeff will get over it.”

Silence for a minute as he laid there beside you, eyes closed as if the universe didn’t seem to be crumbling on top of you, perched on a hill somewhere south of Encino. He seemed calm and collected, steady, even, as if he wasn’t terrified. You didn’t know what to say. What do we do? I’m sorry? But sorry for what? You didn’t ask for this or do anything that brought it on, other than a poorly timed one night stand. 

“I can drive you home--you can cancel the Uber.”

You looked over at him, his hands clasped on top of his stomach, a strip of his skin escaping between his shirt and his pants. He opened his eyes, as if he could feel your gaze, sat up and cleared his throat. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he laughed, answering the question that hadn’t even made it out of your mouth. He stood and offered you a hand up, you wiped at your pants, only spreading the evening droplets of dew on top of the denim. 

When you stood beside him, he hesitated. His right arm lifted, wrapped over your shoulders and pulled you into his side. It was short, he let go of you and moved towards his car silently, clicking a button on the keys that woke it up, headlights on. 

So you sat on top of the nice leather seats, the quiet hum of the radio didn’t feel so awkward this time, like the silence was more comfortable and the tension was lessened. Not as stuffy and intrusive. 

He pulled on and off of the freeway with ease, winding roads away from the hills eventually turned to urban streets and residential neighborhoods, trash bins on the sidewalk, ready for pick up. 

When he slowed in front of your house, one hand on the wheel, he turned to see you. “We can, uh, take some time, I guess--to decide what we want to do. Hear from your doctor this week.”

You knew what he meant--no need for harsh terms or specific language. You nodded.

“I mean--what you want to do. S’up to you, really.”

You bit at your lip, unsure of how to reply. “You get a say, too.”

His face softened at that, he pulled his forefinger up to rub at his lips. “Okay.”

“I’ll talk to you soon?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, angling himself towards you. “Maybe, uh, we could do dinner some night this week. After the appointment?”

“Sure, yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to you then. I’ll text you before.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Course,” he said. “Any time.”

**

Glenne seemed to keep her distance, nothing but a text from her that night, a red heart emoji--as if it would undo the frustration in Jeff’s voice or the look on his face. 

And you got it--you understood that for Jeff, this was a business nightmare. His top client now listed in a category with many others, one that begged for headlines and sorry sideways glances. 

Which was why you tried to give him an out the night before. A text excusing him from the appointment, if he wanted. You don’t have to come, I understand if you’re too busy. 

Lexi was busy on set for a few days straight, early mornings and late nights left you spending more time alone in your apartment than you were used to. You caught up with your mom on FaceTime the night before the appointment. 

“We’ll see if he shows up,” you said, phone propped up on the table when you blew on a forkful of spaghetti. “He’s not a jerk, I don’t think, but--I don’t know. If I were him I would have run for the hills by now, probably.”

She was in the middle of going through her mail, flipping through envelopes and peeling them open. “Oh sweetie, don’t say that. It’s good--he’s been pretty supportive so far.”

“I know, but I don’t know him. I mean--this is like a lifetime movie, right? I’m a random person who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

She slowed at that, looking at you through the phone, a sigh before she spoke. “You seem to have made your peace with it, a bit.”

You shrugged, another bite of dinner. “I think it’s denial.”

She laughed a little. “Me too. Can I come this weekend?”

“Down here?”

She nodded, a new envelope in her hand as she used her finger to tear it open. 

“If you want--we can just do brunch or something. Lexi may or may not be around.”

“Well, I was thinking maybe I could meet him.”

You almost dropped your fork. “No--no way, not yet. I don’t even know what we’re gonna do.”

“I know,” she said, her voice steady. “There’s no way you could place it with a family, right? Give it up for adoption?”

That language felt harsh, give up. Glenne had already ruled that out the night you told her. 

They’d never let you, she said. At first, you thought it sounded like a happy medium. You can’t just give up a celebrity’s baby for adoption, that’d be too dangerous and cause too much of a scene. 

You wished she had said you couldn’t give up your baby for adoption--as if she’d forgotten that it was yours, too.

“No, Glenne said something about how his team would never go for that. Which makes sense--I guess, you know, crazy people would try to adopt it.” 

She nodded. “So--it’s really just the two options then,” a pause, “keep it, or don’t.”

“Yeah--just one or the other.”

“Look, you have to make whatever decision is right for you--but, I don’t know, I just thought it might be nice to meet him.”

You thought on it for a second, another bite of spaghetti when she disappeared out of the frame for a second. Your mother meeting Harry wasn’t something you’d ever thought about--too soon and too new. 

At some point, if it was necessary, maybe. But that was down the road, right? Not this weekend and not right after he sees the plastic uterus in Dr. Weston’s office. That all felt too real and too rushed. 

She appeared back in front of the camera, a smile on her face. “Just think about it, okay?”

“Alright--I’ll think,” you said it mostly to appease her, to calm her nerves and to assure her that you were alright, hanging in there and holding on. She was worried--and she wasn’t afraid to say it. She’d already called you every day since you told her, asking how you were feeling, when you’d tell him, how it was all going.

“Don’t give him a pass just because of who he is, honey, okay? Fame or not he’s involved in this now, too.”

“I know,” you rolled your eyes, tried not to whine too much when she gave you a look. “I know, mom--I get it.”

She let it go then, asking about work and catching you up on her own life. She told you about the renovation they were doing in her office, the neighborhood book club she joined. When you hung up and said goodnight, a text was waiting for you. One that you hadn’t even seen come through. 

310-324-9090 (8:29pm): I’ll be there--4pm, right? Text me the address.

Sure enough, he was in the waiting room before you were. A hat on his head and a jacket over his shoulders, he straightened up when you came through the door. 

“Hi,” his voice was quiet when you sat down next to him. He looked around the room to make sure no one was looking in your direction. “We just wait here, right?”

“Yes,” you giggled, somewhat touched by his uncertainty. “They’ll call me in eventually.”

“I thought I was coming in, too.”

You turned to face him. “You can, but they’ll call my name, since I’m the one who’s actually pregnant.”

“Right,” he said, shrinking into the chair. He thumbed through a magazine, one that had a picture of a smiling baby on the front--a diaper and big, blue eyes. You wondered--if you kept it--who it would look more like. 

The same nurse called your name, this time, a smile on her face when there was a male counterpart by your side. You ignored the shift in her tone, chalked it up to ignorant, but well-intentioned sexism, and followed her into a different exam room. 

Bigger, this time. Another poster of female genitalia on the wall--this one was bigger, darker shades of red and pink. Harry sat in the seat and watched as the nurse took your blood pressure, temperature, and offered you a glass of water. 

He perked up at that, magazine still in his hand, he’d taken it from the waiting room as a souvenir. “M’a bit thirsty--could I have one?”

She looked at him, still now, a look of realization crossed over her face when she seemed to place his face, or maybe his voice. She nodded, disappeared out into the hallway and shut the door behind her. 

“We have to have them sign something,” he mumbled, opening the magazine again with a shake of his head. “All these doctors offices talk about confidentiality and what not, but, dunno--I can have my lawyer draft something up.”

“What do you mean?”

He kept his gaze on the page he held between his thumb and forefinger. “They could tell someone, Y/N--that I’m here and that you’re pregnant.”

You tilted your head, adjusted on top of the wax paper. “You don’t expect this to be a secret forever, do you?”

He pushed his lips out, looked up at you. “It depends on what we decide.”

Interrupted, his words clipped when Dr. Weston knocked on the door and stepped inside. She offered a hand in Harry’s direction, either unaware of who he was or simply unphased by his presence. Either way, she sat on the rolling stool and looked up at you. 

“Well--now that we know for sure that you are, in fact, pregnant, I’m happy to talk you through some of the options, if you are interested in termination.”

You nodded, not necessarily as an agreement that you were interested, but you figured it didn’t hurt to hear her out. 

“There are a few different ways to do so, and luckily you’re early enough that you have some of the better options still available.” She pulled a pamphlet off of the counter, one that you hadn’t noticed until now. It had a picture of a flowery field on the front, a sunny day somewhere with blue skies, with the words Abortion by Trimester, in bold lettering on the front. 

Harry leaned forward, his eyes scanning the pamphlet before sneaking a glance in your direction--you felt his gaze when Dr. Weston handed it over.

“There’s medication you could take at this point--it would entail some heavy bleeding as you pass the pregnancy, a few days of that tops. That’s the safest option for where you’re at right now, you’d have up until the ten week mark to choose that option. Anything after that would be a bit more involved, but still extremely safe.”

You nodded. “We don’t--uh--we don’t know yet. We haven’t decided, honestly.”

“Alright,” she said. “Take your time, I’m happy to work with you no matter what you decide.”

“Is there anything I should be doing right now? I haven’t been drinking, I don’t smoke, so--”

She stood from her stool and grabbed another pamphlet, the same one, offered it to Harry. He flipped it over in his hands, inspecting the front and back when she continued. 

“Just the same, healthy eating, enough rest. If you do decide to keep it, we recommend prenatal vitamins, the Complete Health brand is a good one, you can get it at Target or CVS. But--again, you have time to figure it all out. It’s just good to know all the options.”

“Right,” you said. “Thank you.”

“You’ll need to come back in a few weeks, if you decide to keep it. We’ll do a six week ultrasound. If you decide otherwise, though, you can call and make an appointment to come in for the prescription.”

Harry shifted in his seat, ran a hand through his hair and shook Dr. Weston’s hand when she said goodbye. The door shut behind her, he let a breath out as if he’d been holding one, turning to look at you once you were alone. 

The options felt overwhelming--like suddenly now there was a weight on your shoulders no matter what you chose. Harry’s brow furrowed when you wiped at your eyes. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “It’s just hard--I don’t know what to do.”

He was quiet, stood in the center of the room like he had no clue how to respond. He reached a hand forward and took yours in it, “s’alright--we can think on it all.”

You nodded, letting go of his hand quickly when he pulled it away. He offered you the jacket you’d worn, picked up your purse off the chair beside him. 

“Need another ice cream?”

“No,” you laughed. “I need a real meal.”

“We can definitely make that happen.”

So you drove with the windows down--once again leaving your car behind so you could ride together--and luckily, the drive through line at In-N-Out wasn’t too bad. A quick smile for a picture with the cashier, he handed over his credit card, pushing yours out of the way. 

“I’ve got it,” he used his elbow to nudge your hand. 

“Let me venmo you for mine, then,” you pulled out your phone, quick to pull up the app. 

“Y/N, leave it. S’fine.”

You watched as he took the receipt, thanked the person behind the window before they handed over the bag of food. It felt like a thin line, letting him pay for things or insinuating, somehow, that you were now a financial responsibility of his. You worked too hard, had a good job--you’d been raised by a woman who didn’t take handouts from anyone. You would have sooner paid for both of your meals than let him feel so obligated. 

But you were too hungry to put up a fight, you took the burger he handed you and lifted your sunglasses once he parked on the far end of the lot, tinted windows allowing privacy. 

“I know I’m only a month along, but this might be my first real craving.”

“Yeah?” He smirked over at you, watched as you took a bite. “We can keep ‘em coming.”

He pressed a button, lessening the blow of the air conditioning. Took a sip of the soda he had ordered, set it back in the cup holder between you. “That was weird, huh?”

You spoke through a full mouth, “wha’ was?”

“The options--the pamphlet, and--I don’t know. I’d never thought much about how they do it. Kind of thought it was more involved than that.”

You almost told him it wasn't a good mealtime conversation, he kept going before you could redirect. “But I dunno, hearing her talk about it made me think more about it.”

You let out a breath--sure that the inevitable was coming. Of course he’d want you to get rid of it--how could he opt for anything else when something like this had massive implications? 

How could he go on tour, do interviews or red carpets with partial custody? Were you meant to trail along behind him now, a glorified nanny to your first born so he could continue living the same life? But it was simple: he couldn’t. Too much would change and you guessed he didn’t even like the thought of it. So of course, you nodded and looked over at him, waiting to hear him ask you to terminate. 

“I don’t know--I think you should keep it.”

You swallowed. “What?”

He turned, looked at you with concern in his eyes. “You don’t?”

“No--I--I don’t know, I just didn’t expect you to say that.”

“Why?”

“Doesn’t this,” you shrugged, letting the burger fall onto the wrapping paper it’d come in, “ruin your life?” 

He looked at you in the eyes, held your gaze for a moment before looking down at his hands. He seemed to be actually thinking it through, weighing the pros and cons. He looked back up at you, a small shrug. “No.”

You didn’t believe him. You broke his gaze and reached for your own soda, taking a pull from the straw just so you wouldn’t have to reply. 

“It’s inconvenient, sure--but, it doesn’t ruin my life. You’re not ruining my life.”

Emotion in your eyes at that--you wiped at the tears quickly to hide any evidence. It was all too common now, the quick spurts of anxiety and the shaky breathing that accompanied them. He reached for his own drink, now, held it to his lips in silence. 

“If you want to end it, you can. I’m not the one who has to, you know, do all the work.”

You stifled a laugh, wiped at your cheeks before he handed you a napkin. 

“I don’t want to.”

“End it?”

You nodded. “I made the mistake of getting a tracking app,” you forced the words out even though the tears picked back up. “And today--it said--it’s the size--of an apple seed!”

He let out a laugh, twisting towards you and leaning over. A hand on your thigh quickly, he pulled away before you looked up at him. He bit his lip, like he was trying to think of something to say. 

You spoke first. “You really don’t think this is a life ruining catastrophe?”

“That’s a bit harsh,” he shrugged. “An unplanned, accidental...adventure--feels a bit more accurate.”

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[taehyungs-perm]

strawberry girl pt 3

taehyung x reader; college au; childhood best friends to lovers au; jock!fratboy taehyung

genre: fluff; major angst lol

word count: 11k

summary: i can pretend i don’t miss you. i can pretend i dont care. all i want to do is kiss you. what a shame you’re not here.

Part 1 here ; Part 2 here; part 4 here; part 5

playlist vibes

best friend | rex orange county

heather | conan gray

jocelyn flores | xxxtentacion

ivy | frank ocean

pretty little fears | 6lack

best part | daniel caesar (feat h.e.r.)

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

Every muscle in your body ached as you tried to shift in your bed. Your head felt like it was splitting open from the massive pain. You peeled open your eyes that felt like they were glued shut. Every neuron in your body was sending the message “go back to sleep” but the hurried whispers in the room forced you to slowly open your eyes. It felt like you were experiencing a fever dream because you were not fully processing anything due to your half opened eyes and the massive pain coursing through your entire body.

You managed to make out Hana’s face hovering over you. Her eyes were filled with concern, “I don’t know what to do. She’s been like this all day. She hasn't moved at all and I’m pretty sure she’s been sleeping the entire time.”

Another voice whispered hoarsely, “Should we call an ambulance or take her to the on campus nurse?”

“I don’t know but she doesn’t seem sick, ya know? I think she’s probably just exhausted. She was running around like crazy this entire week.”

You shifted your body to see who the other voice belonged to.

“She’s awake!” the hoarse voice exclaimed.

The sight of his curly hair and big brown eyes made your heart feel like it was going to explode.

“Tae,” you sighed in a daze. You thought you were in a lucid dream so you reached out and grabbed his hand. It felt warm and comforting. You pulled him closer so you could snuggle against his arm.

You heard Hana’s voice. “She’s been saying your name all day. Did something happen at your party? Did you do something to her?” she said, accusingly.

“No! Nothing happened! She was totally fine the entire time!” he said defensively. You couldn’t fully concentrate or focus on anything but you thought you saw a blush rising on Taehyung's face.

He leaned in and you could smell his soap as if he just showered. He put his other hand against your forehead, “She’s a bit warm, but nothing crazy. Maybe she’s exhausted but someone should probably stay with her until she properly wakes up.”

You felt a spine tingling shiver coarse through your body. “I’m so cold,” you whispered, trying to curl in your blankets.

Hana’s eyebrows wrinkled in worry, “I gave her all my blankets already.”

“Here, wear this.” Taehyung pulled his arm away from you and he peeled off his gray hoodie, leaving him in a plain white shirt.

He handed it to you but instead of putting it on, you brought it up to your face and inhaled the smell of Taehyung in the sweater. It smelled so comforting. You wrapped your arms around the sweater and pressed your face against the soft fabric. You felt your head pounding again so you slowly closed your eyes, drifting off back into a dreamless state.

You felt your eyes open comfortably what seemed an hour or so later when the sun rays peeking through your blinds became too bright. You shifted in your bed and grabbed your phone. 9:57.

You yawned and stretched. The sound of your movements shuffled Hana and she sleepily glanced over at you. Then she immediately shot up in her bed, “Oh my god! You’re finally awake!”

You were confused, “What are you talking about?”

“_______, you literally slept for more than 24 hours.”

You looked on at your phone. It read monday. You slept all through Sunday. You were still groggy, kinda delirious from sleeping the most you had in your entire life, “Wait did I wake up at any point?”

“Yea, you were kinda in and out of consciousness. But you woke up slightly at one point.”

You rubbed your forehead with your head. Wait so that dream about Hana and Taehyung wasn’t a dream? “Hana, don’t tell me that my fever dream of you and...”

She chuckled nervously, “Sorry _______. That wasn’t a dream. He was really here.”

You closed your eyes trying to remember what happened but you were so sure you dreamt all of that.

You looked around your bed and saw his sweatshirt by your pillow.

“You’ve got to be fucking with me right now.” You groaned. Why did the thought of Taehyung cause sadness to bloom in your heart? What happened before you went to sleep? You were trying to think properly, but Hana interrupted your thoughts.

“You were so out of it. I’m sure he doesn’t think anything of it,” she said trying to calm your nerves.

Even though you couldn't recount what had happened on Saturday night fully, your “fever dream” was clearly printed in your mind, “Hana, I grabbed his hand. I took his sweatshirt. You told him that I said his name in my sleep.”

“It’s okay! He literally doesn’t care. He’ll just be happy you’re okay.” Hana said getting up from her bed.

You were massaging your temples because your head ached still.

“I’ll be right back okay? I’m going to get some food with Jungkook and I’ll bring you back some. I’ll stop by the pharmacy to get you Tylenol. Drink some water and freshen up.” She put on her shoes and waved bye.

The room was silent and you felt like you could breathe. Your mind was still reeling from sleeping for a long time so you were trying to recollect what happened the past couple of days. Then it all hit you at once. You remembered the night. How you came back to your room and sobbed until you couldn’t cry anymore. Until your eyes were puffy and bloodshot. God, you were a fucking idiot. Taehyung was bringing back the feelings that you tried so hard to forget. You tried your best; you put up walls for so long so your feelings didn't get hurt again. But it happened. You let your will slip. He was breaking your heart once again and he still didn’t even know

You didn't want to admit anything to yourself. All you knew was you were feeling like you didn't know what the fuck you were feeling.

The rational voice in your head kept poking your thoughts, “Why were you so sad? Why did you care so much?

You didn’t want to think about those questions because you knew the answer would scare you. You just knew you didn’t want to see Taehyung any time soon.

He obviously doesn’t give shit about my feelings so why the fuck am I letting it hurt me so much?

Suddenly, the door of your dorm room swung open and there was a panicked Kim Taehyung standing there.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you mumbled underneath your breath so he couldn't hear.

He raced over to your bed and you wanted to crawl away so desperately. You couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when you saw his huge innocent brown eyes, his messy curly black hair, and his matching black and white pajamas.

He held your hand gently in between his two large ones, “Are you okay? How do you feel? Did you eat anything?”

He was out of breath as if he raced to your dorm. He continued, “I came here as soon as Hana told me you were awake.”

You slid back into your blankets so you could hide yourself,“I’m fine. You can go now,” You said softly.

“I can’t leave you. At least not until Hana comes back.”

“Taehyung, I’m fine okay. You can go,” The words came out harsh. You hadn’t really acted this cold towards Taehyung since the beginning of your college friendship.

You tried to avoid his gaze but you caught his eyes, “__________ are you mad at me? Did I do something?”

The words got caught in your throat. You held back the tears that were welling in your eyes. You steadied your shaking breath, “I’m fine Taehyung. Hana is bringing me food and medicine. Just go.”

You could clearly see the hurt in his eyes. You feel like a complete jerk for making him sad. Even though you’re the one who cried yourself to sleep over because your heart was in so much pain.

He nodded gently and left before saying, “Just let me know if you’re feeling better.”

You leaned back on your pillows, releasing a heavy breath. You were so emotionally drained. No wonder I slept for over a day. You didn’t know anything about what you were feeling but one thing was clear: being around Taehyung was a lot fucking harder than you thought.

As you relayed last night's events in your head, you tried to understand why you were so hurt. Nothing made sense and your head started to pound again. The door clicked open and thankfully it was just Hana.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” She said carefully as she entered the room with a couple of paper bags in hand.

The tears that were building up from the moment you saw Taehyung came bursting out.

“Oh my gosh, ________ what happened? Are you okay?” She dropped the paper bags, shocked at your sudden burst.

You tried to wipe the tears from your face, “I dunno what’s going on with me. I just...”

She rushed over and sat on the side of your bed, “What happened?”

“Why am I so sad Hana? Why am I crying over Taehyung? I don’t like him. I don’t care about what he does.”

She rubbed your shoulders, pulling you in for a hug, “Oh ______, I know why.”

You looked up at her, through your teary eyes, “Please tell me. I’m so fucking confused.”

“You like him ________.”

You blinked at her and moved away from her, “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. That’s why it’s hurting.”

“No, Hana I don’t. I fucking told you I don’t, so just listen to what I’m saying.”

“I know _________ you’re scared. You opened your heart to him and you got hurt. And you’re afraid to do that again.”

“I didn’t just get hurt. It fucking destroyed me. It hurt me more than you could ever imagine.”

“I know and I’m sorry that happened. But you can’t control everything in your life. You can’t convince yourself that you don’t like him.”

“I’m not convincing anyone of anything. I don’t like him. I don’t care, I'm not thinking about my feelings or about him. We’re friends.” You controlled your breathing and wiped the tears from your face, “I don’t know why I was so upset. Taehyung and I are just friends and I don’t have feelings for him.”

Hana sighed in disappointment.

You took a deep breath and made up your mind: you weren’t going to let this affect you. It was simple, just keep your distance from Taehyung and don’t be sad about things that you truly shouldn’t be upset over.

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

You tried to avoid Taehyung as much as possible without it being completely sus. He had been texting you asking if you were feeling better and you responded with simple answers like “I’m fine” or “I just was exhausted.” However, the last thing you wanted was for him to confront you about your unusual behavior so after not seeing Taehyung for 4 days straight, you knew you couldn’t avoid him anymore.

“Taehyung, I told you, I’m studying. I’m trying to be productive so I can come to your game on Saturday.” You huffed over the phone when you finally caved and answered his call.

“Okay why can’t I just study with you? I’ll meet you at the library,” he whined.

“I’m not at the library,” You said flatly.

“Where are you then? I’ll meet you there!” Taehyung said pleadingly.

God he was relentless.

“I’m studying in the science hall. 7th floor towards the windows.” You said, giving up.

“Bet. I’ll be there in five”

Why did you tell him where you were? You were such a simp for Taehyung, and it was honestly going to cost you. At least this floor was empty so Taehyung couldn’t get distracted by anyone who passed by.

You went back to doing your chemistry assignment on acids and bases. You hadn’t realized Taehyung arrived until he sat down on the sofa next to you, the familiar scent of his cologne wafting your way.

“Wow, I had no idea this existed,” Taehyung said, stretching out his arms.

You briefly glanced at him. He was wearing a black sweater with light brown slacks,  “What? The science hall?”

“Okay I’m stupid but not that stupid. I just haven’t been past the first floor.” He took out his laptop.

“Taehyung, I’m not sure why you wanted to come. I’m just doing homework.”

“Because I like watching you do homework.”

You turned to him and wrinkled your forehead in confusion.

He laughed nervously, “I mean like you’re always so focused and driven when you’re doing work, it makes me want to try harder and do my work. And I’m trying to focus on school and being around you motivates me.”

You turned your head quickly towards your laptop so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks, “Well good. Because we are going to be productive today.”

You two continued to do work in silence, with only noise coming from the clicking of the laptop keys.

After you finished your chemistry assignment, you took a break by mindlessly scrolling through Instagram.

Taehyung glanced up and said in a casual voice,  “I finished developing my photos this morning.”

Taehyung mentioned to you before that he had been taking photos with his vintage Polaroid and that the process of developing them was difficult and time consuming.

“Really? Why didn’t you mention it sooner? I’ve been waiting all week to see your photos!!” You were genuinely excited because Taehyung hadn’t taken photos in forever and you missed how he used to light up while showing you pictures. Also, Taehyung was actually very talented and his photos were always distinctly him.

“You’re really excited?”

“Of course, Taehyung! Okay, hurry up take them out,” you said impatiently.

He smiled brightly and pulled out a navy blue folder from his bag. He pulled out a stack of photos and put the folder down. Taehyung leaned against your shoulder and gave you the stack.

You began to flip through each photo, carefully looking at each one before going to the next. Few were of nature scenes around campus, capturing the beautiful sunsets and the tranquility of the surrounding forests, including the cliff side ocean that he had taken to you during his birthday party. There were some of his friends. Photos of his teammates post practice of them smiling and laughing. Taehyung had a knack for somehow capturing the human emotion through his camera lens. 

Then, there were some photos from the frat party. With the red solo cups and the faded lighting, the photos looked like they came straight out of a 90s coming of age movie. You paused at the following photo. It was a picture of you and Taehyung at the frat party. Taehyung was holding your hand and you were both intently staring at each other. You had your small smile on, the smile you reserved for Taehyung when you found him especially endearing but you didn’t want him to know. He was flashing his huge smile at you. You knew the expression you had in your eyes, and it scared you.

“Jimin took that picture that night. I had no idea that photo existed until I developed it. It’s one of my favorite pictures. Don’t we look so cute?” He said peering up at you.

“Yea, it’s cute” you said in a shaky voice. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the photo. You knew the all too familiar expression on your face and it scared you.

You quickly rifled to the next photo and it was of you. You were sitting on the picnic benches near the soccer field, surrounded by your notebooks and laptop. You were wearing a pissed off expression which was only further exemplified by you flipping off the camera and the cameraman. You vaguely remember Taehyung coming up to you after his soccer practice and exclaiming “say cheese!” which granted him this as your response.

“Taehyung, what the fuck is this picture?” You asked laughing at the sheer strangeness of the photo.

He pulled the photo from your hands and said, “No way are you taking this. This photo is my favorite picture of you ever. I’m keeping this in my wallet.”

You tried to snatch it away but Taehyung already shoved the photo in his wallet. He resumed laying his head on your shoulder as you continued flipping through his photos.

“Tae, these are so good. They are all so aesthetic.”

“You really do like them? You’re not fucking with me right?”

“Of course not. I’m being serious. You’re so talented. You definitely need to continue.”

He snuggled deeper into your shoulder and peered at you, “I will, but only if you’re my model for my next series.”

You scoffed loudly, “As if. I’m so far from being a model. You should ask someone like Jennie.”

“Why someone like her?”

“Cause she... knows how to model.” You were about to say “Cause she’s actually pretty” but you didn’t really want Taehyung's fake pity of “Oh no, you’re pretty too.” You weren’t and you were honestly okay with that. But you didn’t want people knowing what made you feel weak so they could offer fake sympathy.

He looked surprised, “Oh wow. I didn’t know that. I could ask her. But I don’t really want to.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Why?”

He sighed, “Jennie is fun to be around. She’s really nice and kind. And I like fucking her. But I don’t know what she wants from me. I’ve told her so much that I’m not looking for a relationship. That I don’t want a girlfriend. But I think she wants something. I don’t know, I think I have to sit down and talk with her.”

Sometimes, Taehyung didn't make sense to you. Or maybe just his duality didn’t make sense to you. He was such a cute, adorable, sweet boy sometimes but then you had to remember his infamous reputation for being the biggest heartbreaker fuckboi on campus.

You hadn’t realized but when Taehyung was talking about his relationship with Jennie, you found yourself playing with the curls of his dark hair, twirling the soft silky strands between your fingers.

You stopped the second you registered what you were doing.

Taehyung looked up at you and pouted, “Why’d you stop?”

“Oh, um, I didn’t know if you wanted me touching your hair.”

“No it’s fine. It’s kinda relaxing”

He went quiet as you continued to play with the curly strands of his hair.

“_________?”

“Yea?”

He asked innocently, “Are you and Jimin a thing?”

You stifled a laugh, “No. Definitely not. We’re just friends.”

“Oh, I just thought since you guys were talking so much lately.”

“Oh no. We were only talking because of your surprise party. He’s really nice and sweet but he’s like you. He doesn’t want a relationship and that’s something I want.”

“You know that I’m not going to stop being your best friend when you get a boyfriend. I was your friend first so your future boyfriend will need to back off.”

You laughed, “Tae, we’ll cross that bridge if we ever get to it.”

“Hmm, well I guess till then you’re mine,” he said leisurely.

Your eyes widened at his words. This was the second time he’s said that.  But this time he didn’t correct himself.

Taehyung continued talking about how he developed the photos as he laid on your shoulder. You were only half listening because your mind was running. What did he mean by that? No no, stop overthinking. Stop thinking about your feelings, stop thinking about what he might have or could have meant. You’re his friend. That’s it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 1:36 am

You couldn’t sleep. You had to be up relatively early because Taehyung's game started at 11. You tried to close your eyes and calm your thoughts but it felt like your mind was running in a hamster wheel, just constantly spinning.

Your thoughts were preoccupied with many things. Firstly, you were worried about your chemistry exam grade. You felt like it went okay but you could never be too sure. Then Taehyung of course. You were convincing yourself to not think about your feelings because you knew it would only upset you. So you just kept on telling yourself that you wanted to be just friends with Taehyung. You glanced over at your roommate’s empty bed. She went over to sleep at Jungkook’s so the room was empty and silent.

You reluctantly grabbed your phone to distract yourself from your thoughts.

Your Instagram feed had become more informational, with you following mostly activist pages about climate change, politics, and human rights issues. You needed a laugh so you went to TikTok and scrolled through your FYP.

You were intently watching a “How to make photocards” tutorial when the screen was interrupted with an incoming call.

It was Taehyung.

Why would he be calling at this time? He should be sleeping by now.

You answered the call, a bit unsure, “Hello?”

“Hey _________!”

“Tae, you should really be sleeping,” you said, critically.

“I know, I know. I just....couldn’t fall asleep.”

You got concerned, “What’s going on?”

You heard some rustling from Taehyung's side of the call and then he continued in a hushed whisper, “I don’t know. I just...am worried, I guess. I’m really stressed out.”

“About the game or school?”

“Both I guess. But mostly the game right now. I just needed to talk to someone. I wasn’t sure if you were Awake but I just wanted to see. Did I wake you up?”

You gave a light laugh, “Uh no. I was actually awake.”

“Please tell me you weren’t doing homework.”

“I wasn’t! I couldn’t fall asleep either. I just was on my phone.”

“Oh okay. What’s going on with you?”

“I believe we were talking about you,” You said, chiding him.

“Okay okay. But after we are talking about you.”

“Sure sure. Why are you anxious about the game? “

“I don’t know, I Just really wanna do well. I've practiced so much for this. What if I fuck up? What if I make mistakes?”

You had never heard Taehyung sound this unconfident before. He was always easy going, chill, and reassured, especially in himself. You knew for him to be feeling this way, he must be really stressed

You said gently, “Taehyung, why do you think you’ll mess up? You’ve always done great.”

He sounded so upset, “You haven’t been to my games ________. I fucked up so badly in the last one. I was supposed to pass the ball to Jungkook so he could score but I thought I could take it and they ended up stealing the ball back and scoring. I lost that game for us.”

“Tae, one mistake doesn’t define you as a player. You tried something and it didn’t work out and you learned from it. You’re literally the hardest worker I’ve ever met. You practiced harder than anyone else. You’ve been playing for so long and you’re the best player I’ve ever seen. I know that as long as you don’t get in your head, you’re going to do great. Trust your instincts and don’t overthink it. You’re a really, really good player because you react in the moment and go with the flow. Just trust your strengths and I promise you that you'll do great.”

He let out a shaky breath, “Thank you ________. Thank you for being here for me. I can’t tell you how much you mean to me.”

You felt your heart warm at his words, “I’m your friend. Of course I’ll be here for you.”

He said in a cocky tone, “So, you really think I’m that good?”

You scoffed, “Okay I said that to make you feel better not for your headass ego to inflate even more.”

“No, no, I heard it with my own two ears. You said I’m the best soccer player you’ve seen.”

“I’ve always thought you were that good, Tae. I just never told you.”

“Why not?” He whined

“Because you don’t need any fucking compliments from me. You get plenty already from your personal cheerleading squad.”

“But I only care about what you think.”

“Shut up. I told you so just remember it forever.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” He paused, “Okay so why are you awake?”

“Um just I don’t know. I’m worried about my chemistry exam grade.” You chuckled, “Well I’m worried about all my grades.”

“_________, you’re literally the smartest person I know. And I know Jimin and Namjoon hyung. If you think I’m hardworking you’re like 40 times more. I know you stress out about these things because you’re not confident in yourself. And I know it’s not an easy mentality to change. So I just want you to know I believe in you. I always have.”

You went quiet. Somehow Taehyung could understand you so well. Maybe it was the years of growing up together or maybe he was that good at understanding emotions

“_________?”

“Yes. Sorry. I just...was thinking. About what you just said. I really appreciate it. I’ve just never had anyone say that to me. I just always forced myself to be on a team by myself. It’s just...really nice.. to have someone rooting for me too.”

“I’ll always be rooting for you”

It went quiet for a moment before he interjected his soft voice, “You’re coming to the game tomorrow, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good, good. I really want you to be there.” He paused, “________?”

“Yes Tae,” you said laughing. You loved the way your name sounded when it came out of his mouth.

“Would you do something for me?”

“What?” What could I possibly do for him?

“Can you wear my jersey at the game tomorrow?”

Your jaw dropped. Wearing a soccer players jersey at your school wasn’t simply just wearing a soccer jersey. Only the people who either were officially dating a player or hooked up most often with a player wore said player’s jersey. It was kinda symbol that you were “with” that player either officially or unofficially. So Taehyung asking you to wear his jersey was definitely something you were not at all expecting.

You were trying to think of a coherent sentence but all that came out was, “Um.”

“You totally don’t have to! I just thought it would be nice since you’re my closest friend.”

You blinked. It was past 2 am now. Neither of you were thinking clearly. There was no way he means anything by it other than he wants someone in the stands supporting him.

“I would! But I don’t have your jersey.” There. That wasn’t a lie, but this way you don’t have to get yourself entangled in something.

“I’ll give one to you tomorrow! Before the game!”

Fuck.

“Oh okay. Sure then.” What the fuck did you just agree to?

“Great! I’m so excited!”

You rubbed your forehead with your free hand, “Tae, it’s getting really late. You should go to sleep.”

He sighed, “Yea. I should. You should too.”

“Yea.”

But neither of you hung up.

Taehyung said sincerely, “Thank you. For talking to me. I didn’t know what I needed but I knew I needed to talk to you.”

“Anytime. Thanks for not being a clueless headass. And for comforting me.”

“Anything for you, strawberry girl,” he said teasingly.

“Bye.” you whispered

Then you hung up the phone, left in the silence of your whirring air conditioner. It’s just a fucking shirt; it’s just polyester. It doesn’t mean anything. Stop overthinking. But that didn’t stop your mind from dissecting every possible meaning of Taehyung’s words.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You jolted awake at the feeling of someone shaking your body.

“Get up ___________! We have to go! We’re going to be late!” yelled Hana’s overly enthusiastic voice.

You rolled over in your bed burying yourself in your blankets, “Late for what? I’m so tired.”

By the time your mind had literally exhausted itself from tiredness, it was almost 5 am. You truly could not think of one good reason to get up and leave your bed.

“The game? The one you promised you would go to?” Hana stated with her hands on her hips. She was wearing Jungkook’s jersey tucked into a pair of ripped  black shorts. Her curly black hair was tied into two high pigtails.

Oh fuck, you kinda forgot about the game. The one you promised Taehyung you would actually go to.

“Right,” you groaned as you sat up in your bed.

“Please get dressed! It’s already 10:30!”

You got dressed wearing jeans and a white long sleeve shirt, completely forgetting about the agreement you made with Taehyung. After shoving a cliff bar in your purse, Hana dragged you out of the room.

You and Hana raced to the stadium but paused when you heard someone calling both your names.

You two turned in the direction of the voice and saw Jimin running over from the side entrance of the field, as if he were coming from the locker rooms.

“________! Hana!” he said, waving. He was clutching something in his hand.

“Hey Jimin,” you said, confused. Why is he not with his team? The game is about to start.

“I’m glad I caught you guys!” He said huffing, slightly out of breath.

“What’s up?” Hana said.

“Um _______ this is for you.” He said handing whatever he had in his hand to you.

You accepted it and unraveled the item. It was Taehyung's jersey. You glanced at Hana’s face briefly just to see her shocked reaction, “Oh yea. I forgot.”

“Yea Taehyung was.....um....late this morning to practice.” Jimin said laughing, “He’s doing his warm ups right now. He couldn’t be here to give you the shirt himself so I was the messenger.”

“Right. Thanks for doing that. You really didn’t have to. I’m sure you’re so busy with the game starting soon and all.” You were kinda confused why Jimin was laughing about Taehyung being late to practice but you shrugged it off.

“No worries. Taehyung is my best friend and I would do anything to help him out.”

Oh, maybe Jimin feels bad about talking to me so much so he’s doing nice things for Taehyung. Nah that would be stupid.

“Well good luck on the game! I know you guys will do great” Hana exclaimed excitedly.

You nodded in agreement and waved as Jimin ran back to the locker rooms.

“What the fuck _________? He gave you his jersey? When was this planned?”

“Literally, it doesn’t mean anything. He called me last night and told me so last minute. I said sure but I didn’t have a jersey so I didn’t think I would end up actually having to wear it!”

“No no, this means something! I know you don’t want to hear it but he might genuinely like you. I know you keep telling yourself that you don’t like him but you need to confront feelings eventually,” she said as you entered the stadium.

You rolled your eyes, “That sounds like a later problem.”

You and Hana made your way to the second row of bleachers. You were still holding Taehyung's jersey, a bit hesitant to put it on over your white shirt.

Hana glared at you, “Are you seriously not going to wear his jersey _______? I mean Jimin literally ran from th-” She stopped talking and her mouth gaped in shock. You followed her eye line and saw what she was staring at. Jennie and one of her friends were walking up the steps and were making their way to sit right in front of you and Hana. However you quickly noticed what Hana dropped her jaw over. Jennie was wearing Taehyung's jersey. And she of course made it look like the cutest outfit as she tied it up in knot that complemented her jean shorts so well.

You felt immense jealousy rise in your stomach. You were supposed to be the one wearing his jersey! Then your feelings turned to anger: he really thought he could have two girls show up in his jersey. Then your feelings of anger changed to defeat and insecurity: well of course he gave her his jersey. They fuck all the time plus she looks so good in his jersey. They both look so good together as a couple. Why did you keep trying to insert yourself in a situation that you weren’t relevant in? Clearly, there was some misunderstanding and you weren’t supposed to actually wear his jersey.

You looked sadly at his jersey lying in your lap. You got lost in your thoughts when Hana tapped your phone sitting next to you.

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion but picked up your phone.

Hana: listen to jennie

You started to listen in her conversation with her friend.

The friend on her right (her name was Lisa you think?) whispered in a harsh tone, “So Jennie are you and Taehyung together then?”

Jennie flipped her perfectly styled hair over her shoulder, “Not yet. But we’ve been seeing each other more often.”

Lisa asked curiously, “Did he give you that jersey?”

Jennie said in an uptight tone, “Well, this is one he gave me earlier this year to wear. But I can wear it for this game too.”

The conversation between Jennie and Lisa got interrupted when another girl, Jisoo, came and sat down on Jennie’s left. Jisoo, leaned into the conversation, “Where were you last night Jennie? We were so worried when you got up and left at midnight.”

Jennie laughed with her hand covering her mouth, “Don’t worry. I was perfectly fine.”

She elaborated further, “I was at Taehyung’s.”

Lisa and Jisoo gasped. You immediately looked at Hana.

You: they fucked

Hana: you don’t know that!

You: u srsly believe that?

You stopped texting Hana to listen in again.

Lisa grabbed Jennies arm, “Are you being for real?”

“Of course I am! Taehyung called me and said he needed me. So I went over.”

“What happened?” jisoo asked, concerned.

“He was stressed out.”

“And?” Lisa asked eyes widened with anticipation

“And I helped him relieve his stress” she said with a smirk

Jisoo covered her gaped mouth with her hand, “You and taehyung are fucking so often now! Are you sure you guys aren’t exclusive now?”

Jennie said in a strained voice, “I’m not sure but I think we will be officially together very soon.”

Lisa and Jisoo squealed. Jennie giggled, “I almost got him in trouble”

Lisa gave a high pitched laugh, “Oh my gosh Jennie what did you do?”

“Well this morning, I couldn’t leave without making sure all of his stress was completely relieved. And he ended up being late to this morning's warm up.” she said cackling.

You remembered how Jimin said that Taehyung was late this morning when he was giving you Taehyung's jersey.

You: he was late bc he was fucking Jennie

You: that’s why jimin gave me his jersey

Hana: bro wtf is wrong w taehyung. why is he acting so weird

You: whatever idc I’m not wearing his fucking jersey tho

Hana: it’s ok to be upset

You: like i said, idc. taehyung and i are friends. he can do whatever he likes

Hana: ur just avoiding ur feelings

You: fuck off

Jennie and her clique started to chat about the cheerleading team and you went back to staring at the jersey on your lap.

Then it clicked. Taehyung called you last night. He must have fucked Jennie and then called you. What the fuck. When he called you, he said he knew he needed to talk to you. But Jennie said he said that to her too. All of those things he said to you, did he really mean them? Or did he just say it? Taehyung literally just made everything confusing. You closed your eyes. We are friends. That’s it. Don't think about anything else. Don’t think about your feelings towards him; don’t think about why you cried that night. You and Taehyung are friends. Simple

Your thoughts were interrupted when the crowd started to cheer. The soccer teams from both sides came out. The announcer introduced each player one by one. When it came to Taehyung's name, Jennie stood up and squealed, “Yes Tae!”

You couldn’t help but look at Hana and roll your eyes at Jennie's actions.

You caught a small glimpse of Taehyung. You thought you saw him wave but it happened so quickly you didn’t wave back.

You didn’t watch sports too much but with stakes high and the overwhelming energy, the game was very interesting to watch. Jungkook scored the majority of the goals as he was the lead striker. Taehyung and Jimin were on offense with him and assisted with many of the shots. Hobi was the midfielder with Jin and Yoongi as defense. Namjoon was the star goalkeeper.

The game was tied in the last quarter 5-5. Everyone was on the edge of their seats waiting to see who would win this year’s championships. With less than one minute on the clock, Taehyung scored the winning final shot. The crowd went crazy with cheers as the boys formed a group hug around tae.

Everyone from the stands went rushing down into the field to congratulate the team. You and Hana made your way down the bleachers and to the field. The second you two reached the field, Hana sprinted to jungkook and gave him a giant hug. You smiled. They were so cute together.

You wanted to congratulate Taehyung, but, of course, he had a huge crowd around him, congratulating him for scoring the winning shot. You felt pride in your heart because you knew Taehyung would do well. Once he stopped overthinking and trusted in his abilities, he always succeeded. Your thoughts of admiration of Taehyung were interrupted when Jennie pushed past you and the crowd surrounding Tae. She walked right up to him, threw her hands around his neck, and kissed his cheek, “I’m so proud of you, Tae. I knew you could do it.”

Well, never mind. I’ll just go now since he’s busy with her. You turned away from Taehyung's direction and were about to leave the field when you heard someone calling your name.

“________!” You saw Jimin racing over, waving.

“Hey Jimin! Congrats on the game! You did so well!”

He stopped in front of you, “Thank you! I’m glad all of our hard work paid off.”

“Yea, I know you guys practiced like crazy these past few weeks.”

“I’m also happy that you came out for once! I can’t believe this is the first game you’ve come to all season.”

You laughed nervously, “Yea I know I should’ve come to some more games. I just didn’t really see the point of coming out to support Taehyung if he kinda ignored me the whole time.”

“Well, Taehyung is kinda dense. He doesn’t really know what he’s missing if he’s ignoring you. Come for me next time!”

“Okay okay I will!” You said smiling at Jimin. You wished you could like someone like Jimin. He seemed like a pretty straightforward guy. But of course...things could never be simple for you.

You and Jimin talked for a bit longer about your classes until Taehyung came up to both of you and cleared his throat. He was still sweaty from the game so his curls were stuck to his face a bit. You noticed he was wearing a black wire headband and somehow he made it look hot.

“Hey _________,” he said, once again wearing his fake smile.

Keep things simple. Just friends. You can’t be mad at him for being with Jennie when you're literally just a friend.

“Hey Taehyung. Great game. You did so well. I’m so proud of you!” You said in a cheerful voice. He gave you a look because he knew you were acting weird.

“I’m glad you came. To see me.” Taehyung said, emphasizing the last part to Jimin.

“Well, I came to support the team so all of you guys.” You said, correcting him.

Taehyung came over next to you and turned to Jimin, “I think Namjoon hyung is looking for you. You better go.”

Jimin laughed because he knew what Taehyung was doing, “Okay I’ll go then! Thanks for coming _________. You should come to our party tonight by the way!”

You were about to respond with a “we’ll see” but Taehyung interjected, “I already invited her so you don’t need to.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him because Taehyung did not invite you.

“Thank you Jimin for the invite. I’ll have to see.” you added kindly.

Then he was gone and it was just Taehyung and you.

He frowned, “Why didn’t you wear my jersey?”

Oh god. Not this again.

“I figured you gave it to me by mistake since Jennie is wearing your jersey.”

“I didn’t ask her to do that. I asked you. I wanted you to wear it.”

“Cool Taehyung. I don’t really care. She came in wearing it and I didn’t wanna look like a side chick so I decided not to.”

“Fine. I guess. I wish you wore it still. Why didn’t you wave back to me?” He added in another accusatory tone.

“I don’t know Taehyung. I didn’t see you.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what? I’m not your fucking girlfriend so you don’t get to interrogate me.“

“You’re my friend and I care about what you think of me. Is that so wrong?”

“I don’t know Taehyung. Is that what you say to all your ‘friends,’” you said, miming the quotations.

“What the fuck are you going on about?”

“Just next time don’t fucking call me saying you need me after you’ve fucked another girl.”

Your head felt like it was going to explode. So much for trying to keep it simple. You were going to leave because honestly the damage was done and you didn’t know taehyung would ever talk to you again. All your hurt feelings were just coming out and you couldn’t stop yourself.

But he pulled your arm back so you faced him.

“Is that what this is about? Me and Jennie?”

“Like I said, Taehyung. I don’t want to get in the middle of something. So if you could just stop pretending like I mean a lot to you, this would make it easier. You and Jennie can be together and I can disappear from your life.”

“_______. Jennie and I are not together. We fuck. That’s it. There’s no feelings involved.”

“There’s always feelings involved.”

“Well not from my side.”

“Then why did you call her last night saying that you needed her”

“I didn’t say that. I said I needed to relieve some stress so I asked her if she was down to have sex. She said okay. We fucked. That’s it.”

Every time Taehyung said “we fucked” it was like a shot to your heart.

“Okay. Taehyung, I don’t get why you’re telling me this. You can do whatever you want. I just don’t want to get involved.”

“Involved in what? You’re my friend. I don’t get what so complicated about this.”

“Nothing is complicated. We’re fine Taehyung.” You desperately just wanted to leave but he wasn’t letting your arm go.

“_________. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I don’t know what I did exactly but I’m sorry to have made you feel upset.”

You sighed. He just didn’t see it the way you did. Whatever. It’s fine. It’s fine, “It’s okay. I’m sorry for getting mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He asked, “We’re good?”

You affirmed, “We’re good”

“So what are you doing now?”

“I dunno. I’m probably going to go make some strawberry cupcakes again. I’ve got a lot on my mind and I just need to relax I guess.”

“Can I come?”

What? Did he mean he wanted to come bake with you?

“You want to bake cupcakes? With me?”

“Yea” he said shrugging, “Why not? We’ve barely hung out this week.”

“You don’t have anything else you need to do? Or someone else you need to be with?” You said nodding in the direction of the crowd behind Taehyung. Jennie was towards the front of the crowd, looking very pissed off, as she stood with her clique.

Taehyung looked behind him then turned to you, sweeping his curls out of his face, “Nah. I’ve got nothing to do.”

You wanted to say no but there was still a part of you that wanted Taehyung to yourself, “Ok. Let’s go then.”

“Lemme grab my bag and we can go,” He said with his boxy smile.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ It felt really weird taking Taehyung back to your dorm you thought as you unlocked your room door to let him in.

Hana had told you she would be with Jungkook the entire day so you most likely wouldn’t see her for a while.

“I gotta check something on my laptop real quick but then we can go to the kitchen on this floor and start,” you said to Taehyung as you hopped onto your bed. You opened your laptop and glanced up at Taehyung. He was checking himself out in the mirror. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. You were scrolling through your grade book to see if anything had been updated when Taehyung stated he was going to change.

You looked up and nodded, thinking he was going to use the bathroom and change. But he did not. He pulled off his shirt by grabbing the shirt from behind his neck (how did that look so hot) and your mouth went completely dry at the sight of his bare upper body. His melanin golden skin looked ethereal. His upper body was well defined and toned. You almost lost it at the sight of his chiseled collar bones that protruded from his chest. You could eat fucking cereal out of his collarbones, they were that defined. He looked like he was sculpted from a golden statue by Van Gogh himself. The more you caught yourself drooling over Taehyung the more you realized you were totally and incomparably, fucked.

You hadn’t realized you were ogling Taehyung until his eyes met yours.

“See something you like?” He said with a tantalizing smile.

Fuck. You needed to pretend like you didn’t care. You gave him an analyzing look. “Seems like chocolate cake girl got the lesser end of the deal,” you said shrugging.

Taehyung pulled on a white shirt with the word CELINE printed on it with black bolded letters. He strided over to you, smelling like fresh deodorant, “Fuck off. I saw you staring.”

“Whatever,” You waved him off

He leaned in close, his breath tickling your cheek, “You can say whatever, but your cheeks are still red from blushing.”

Oh fuck. You could feel your cheeks reddening further.

“It’s okay. I think it’s cute.”

You turned your head to him, trying to remain as stoic as possible, “you think what’s cute?”

“I think your innocence is so cute. You act like you can be unaffected by everything. But I know how to make you crumble.” He winked and you felt breathless.

He knows what effect he has on me. Great.

“C’mon _______ I was promised some cupcakes.” he said, tugging your arm away from the bed.

You grabbed the strawberries from the fridge and your baking basket. You two went to the kitchen and you started organizing everything. You quickly realized just how different you and Taehyung were.

You were the person who liked to set everything up, go through the directions, and then begin. Taehyung was the kind of person who liked to jump right in. But somehow, you felt like you balanced each other out in the best way. After a flour spill, a few extra broken eggs, and a ton of dishes to wash, somehow you were able to make strawberry cupcakes with Taehyung.

You cleaned up all the messes Taehyung made (he claimed it wasn’t his fault but rather gravity) while he washed all the dishes when the cupcakes were placed in the oven.

Once the cupcakes were frosted and everything was cleaned, you two headed back to your room.

You set the platter of desserts down and took a deep breath, “That somehow gave me more stress.”

“Hey! We had fun! I was a great co chef,” Taehyung said as he picked up a cupcake.

“Were you now? That’s highly debatable,” You said giggling at him.

“These are so fucking good. I missed your food so much.”

“Gee thanks. Glad you missed me.”

“Shut up, I’ve told you how much I missed your headass.”

You took a bite of the cupcake in your hand and it tasted surprisingly good given that Taehyung helped you make them.

Taehyung's phone lit up and the background caught your eye.

“Aww, wait did you make your phone background your photos?” you said grabbing his phone.

“Well actually...” he said trailing off as your eyes widened as you actually saw what was his phone lock screen. Your mouth went dry. It was the photo of you and Taehyung at the party. The photo that frightened you so much.

“I just really like that picture of us. It makes me happy when I see it.”

“Yea. It’s a cute photo” you said not really paying attention to your words. Your heart was racing. Just friends, you repeated to yourself. Don’t think about your feelings.

“Okay now what?” Taehyung said cheerfully.

“Don’t you have a party tonight? Do you need to head back?”

“Eh. I’ll go later. I just wanna chill for now,” he leaned back on his hands.

The voice of reason in your head was telling you that you should tell Taehyung to leave, that you should do some homework and push him away before you start getting any ideas.

But your voice of reason was drowned out by your actual voice, “Do you wanna watch a movie or something?”

He perked up, “Yea that sounds good.”

He jumped onto your bed and got comfortable as if it was a totally normal routine for him. Taehyung’s eyes caught something on your bed and picked up the gray cloth by your pillow, “Uh, ________ is this my sweatshirt?”

You closed your eyes, cringing at the situation. You had been meaning to give Taehyung his sweatshirt back but between avoiding him and also hanging out with him, you had completely forgotten. Also, it was really comfortable to wear.

You tried to keep a straight face, “Yep. You left it here I think.”

He smiled, trying to catch your embarrassment, “I actually didn’t leave it here. Don’t you remember?”

You sneered at him, “Yes I remember. You gave it to me because it was cold but I just forgot to give it to you. You can take it back now.”

He looked very unconvinced, “Right. You forgot. You didn't like sleeping with it or anything.”

You opened your mouth to say something but he laughed loudly, “I'm kidding. Maybe. C'mon, let's watch something.”

You grabbed your laptop, sat on the bed next to Taehyung, and began scrolling through Netflix.

You saw a movie title that caught your eye, “Let’s watch this”

Taehyung squinted at the screen and read the title of the movie, “To all the boys I’ve loved before?”

“Yep! I love this movie but I haven’t seen it in so long.”

“Isn’t this like a romantic comedy?”

“Yea,” you said leaning back on your pillow.

“You like teen rom coms?” he asked in disbelief.

“Oh, shut up. I love rom coms. Plus this one is so cute. I love the lead girl and guy.”

“Okay if you insist.” He said, unconvinced, adjusting his seating.

You played the movie and you began to watch the movie with Taehyung.

“To be honest, I’m not really liking Josh. Am I supposed to feel bad for him?” Taehyung asked, with his head resting on your shoulder.

“I don’t really know but I don’t feel bad for him. Lara Jean made it clear she doesn’t want to talk to him and he keeps trying.”

He nodded in agreement, “Yea fuck that guy.”

Once the movie was over, you closed your laptop.

“So, what did you think?” You asked while stretching your arms above your head.

“It was cute, I liked it. But I know why you liked it.”

You laughed, “Why do you think I like it?”

“Uh because you’re like Lara Jean.”

You scoffed, “I definitely am not like Lara Jean. She has way better style than me. And I also think she’s way braver than me.  I would never have the guts to write my feelings out.”

“I dunno..” he said teasingly “Lara Jean reminds me of you.”

You flipped him off and he stuck his tongue out at you. The room was dark now. It was evening now and you could hear the chatter of students outside your window. You felt calm in the darkness of the room with Taehyung by you.

Taehyung moved his head off your shoulder and rested against the pillows. His face was way too close to yours. You started pulling the neckline of your shirt over your face unconsciously.

“Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” you asked innocently.

He pulled your hands away from your face. “Covering your face,” he said with a light laugh.

“Oh, um. I dunno.”

“Stop doing that. I wanna see your face.”

“Tae...my face probably looks so gross right now. My skin has been acting up all week and I just probably look so weird and-“

He pulled the shirt covering your face down, “Stop, you look pretty. Stop worrying.”

You gave a cold laugh, “I’m not pretty.”

You really didn’t wanna be a ‘pick me’ girl but the words slipped out of your mouth like a reflex.

He scooted closer to you on the bed, “Do you really think that?”

Fuck it right? You had already said way more shit than you had intended to. Might as well keep it going and just be honest with him.

“I’m not pretty. Or beautiful. Girls like Hana or Jennie are. And I know that. And I dunno it used to bother me but...it’s whatever now.”

His big doe eyes were filled with concern, “I haven’t said anything but I notice the way you act, especially when you feel like people are looking at you. You always try to hide yourself. And you always compare yourself.”

You exhaled deeply, thinking carefully about your words, “Well cause it’s true. I’m just not as pretty as other girls. And I’m really not trying to fish for compliments. Which is why I never talk about it.”

He gave a small laugh, “I know you aren’t fishing for compliments. You always act so shy and embarrassed if anyone says anything nice about you.”

Taehyung's eyes were entrancing you but you felt anxious under his steady gaze.

You averted your eyes so you were focused on your pillow, “Yea well it’s cause I don’t know how to take a fucking compliment. I just get so shocked I guess. Girls like Hana and Jennie are used to attention so they know how to be confident in themselves. I wish I could be like that.”

God, you hated the way you sounded. You literally hated the ‘I’m not like other girls trope’ that only pitted women against each other. Truly, you admired Jennie and Hana for being themselves and embracing their beauty in a society that feeds off of insecurity. You really did look up to them and wished you could be confident as them.

Taehyung's hand came up to your cheek and you felt the cold metal of his rings press against your face. He brushed the strands of hair that were hiding your face behind your ear and whispered hoarsely, “Why do you keep comparing yourself? Why do you keep thinking about things you want to change about yourself? You’re enough. You have always been enough.”

You felt like your heart was going to explode at his words. You had longed to hear those words from anyone in your life. As someone who constantly sees their own flaws, you craved for someone to say ‘you’re perfect the way you are.’ Taehyung's words meant the world to you but if only you could see yourself the way he saw you.

You whispered back, “Really?”

He gave you a little nod, staring deep into your eyes. In this moment, you felt so grateful for Taehyung. All those days you spent crying over him were nothing to this moment where he told you that you were enough.

You pulled him into a hug, “I missed you so fucking much.”

You felt his smile against your cheek. Your heart felt fuzzy and light for the first time in a long time.

You pulled away and looked at his huge boxy smile and fluffy hair. God, Taehyung would literally be the fucking death of you.

He was so warm in the bed next to you. You could literally feel the heat radiating off of him. You couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off your face. Because that’s how he made you feel.

You changed the topic because the dreamy look in his eyes sent shivers up your spine, “Taehyung, are you sure you don’t have to go tonight?”

“Nah, it’s not a big deal. It’s a big party but that’s kinda why I don’t wanna go. There’s going to be so many people there and I don’t wanna have to deal with that. Fake smiling and shit.”

“God I hate small talk.” you added.

“For real, like I get the weather is fucking nice I guess.”

You stifled a laugh.

He ran his hand through his curls, “Anyways, I do have to go tomorrow so missing today isn’t that big of a deal.”

You said, unconsciously pressing into him, “What’s tomorrow?”

“All the guys are going to Jungkook's lodge. It’s by a ski resort and shit. It’s really fucking nice.”

“That’ll be relaxing for you guys.”

“Well not really since Jungkook invites basically a shit ton of people so it’s never really just the guys.”

“Oh right. Well, it’ll still be fun for you maybe. Just to have fun with people.”

He placed his warm hand on your elbow, gently caressing it with his thumb. Your heart pounded at the action.

“Yea, but I don’t really care about any of those people.”

You smiled at his comment, Taehyung really had a great bullshit detector. He knew when people were using him for something.

“Will you come?”

“Where?”

He laughed at your comment, “To the lodge, stupid. With me.”

Oh. Oh. Why does he want you to come with him? What the fuck. Why doesn’t he take Jennie? Why is he asking you?

“I can hear you overthinking,” he said teasingly.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking like about homework and WiFi at his lodge. It might just not be-“

“For fucks sake. Just come. We can do homework together and hide from everyone. You can use my data if Jungkook's WiFi doesn’t work. Just please come. I want you there.”

God why does he have to say such sweet things? How does he know exactly what to say to tug at your heart strings?

“Okay. I’ll come.”

He exhaled deeply and laid on his back, “Thank goodness”

Your curiosity got the best of you, “Why do you want me to come so bad? Do you hate it or something?”

“I mean we’ve gone a couple times to Jungkook's place and it gets so crazy. I don’t know I just don’t feel like the same party kid I was a month ago. I know if you’re there I’ll feel sane. And I wanna hang out with you.”

“Tae, we literally see each other all the time.”

“I mean I have to make up for two years where we didn’t talk.”

“Fair enough.”

At some point in your conversation arguing about the best marvel movies (you were adamant that Civil War was a cinematic masterpiece while Taehyung believed Avengers: Infinity Wars was the superior film) you had nodded off, worn out from the long day.

You tried shifting in your sleep when you felt a heavy weight on your body. I must have left my books on my bed again. You tried shifting again, not caring if the books slid off your bed, but the weight didn’t shift. You tried moving but then you felt something pull you to the other side of the bed. You looked at what was pulling you and it was a hand. Taehyung's hand.

Your eyes widened in realization. You looked around and saw that Taehyung had his arm wrapped around your waist, with his leg thrown over your hip, completely pulling you into his embrace. His head began to nuzzle in the back of your neck. He still smelled so good, like comfort. You felt your cheeks heat up as your brain processed what was going on: Taehyung had slept over. Actually, Taehyung had slept in your bed. With you. And now he was cuddling with you in his sleep.

This felt scarily intimate especially since this was the first time you had physically slept in the same bed as a guy. You tried to slip away, maybe sleep in Hana’s bed or hide in the hallway, but Taehyung moaned (your face reddened even more) and pulled you back, “Where are..you going?” He croaked, sleepily, “You’re so warm. And comfy. Don’t go.”

He’s somehow even cuter when he’s sleepy.

“Tae, don’t you have to go?” You asked, hoping he would get up.

“Go where? I just want to stay in bed with you,” Your face literally flared. He peeked open one eye and smirked, “Still cute”

“Shut up. You’re so annoying. You need to go. You have to go to Jungkook's ski thing.”

“Fuck,” he said hoarsely, rubbing his eyes. God, his morning voice was so attractive.

He grabbed his phone and looked through it, “Yea Jungkook and the guys are texting me. I should probably go.” He dropped his phone on the bed and wrapped his arms around you, “I’ll see you there right?”

The familiar fluttering in your heart was getting stronger. The way your heart literally hadn’t stopped fluttering since yesterday. You knew you were in deep shit.

“Do you not get sick of me?”

“Of could not, beautiful”

You tried not to smile when he said that, “I think I prefer strawberry girl.”

He teased, “Okay, then strawberry girl I’ll see you later today right?”

“Yea I’ll come with Hana.”

“Bet,” he removed his arms from around you and hopped out of your bed.

He started packing up the things he had scattered in your room like his phone charger and his soccer uniform. You put your hands on your face and stared at your comforter, trying to focus. You could not believe you and Taehyung slept together. Even though it might not seem like a big deal to anyone, it was a big deal to you. The way his body felt, pressed against yours. How it felt so natural for you and him.

He looked at you, “Hey.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, “Hey.”

“I’m sorry.”

You laughed, “For what? You actually haven't done anything this time.”

His solemn expression made you realize he was being deadly serious, “I’m sorry for making you feel not important. I realized why you were upset about Jennie. I never meant to make you feel like you were a second choice or a backup. So I’m sorry.”

I was not expecting that.

“Oh. Well. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal. I shouldn’t have gotten that mad.”

“No ________ it was a big deal. You never deserve to be treated like you don’t matter.”

And then he looked at you, like there was something worth looking at.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck.

He left. You slightly remember saying bye. You can’t recall if he said bye back. The smell of him remained in the room. The red flags were going off In your head.

Now you were finally left alone, with your feelings. And the hard truth hit you like a fucking truck.

You heard the door click open. Hana came in with a huge smile, “Did I just see Kim Taehyung leave our room?”

You didn’t answer her question.

You didn’t know if you should cry because you somehow fucked yourself over again 2 years later or if you should be relieved that you finally had the courage to face the reality of your feelings.

You finally looked up at Hana’s concerned expression, “I’m in love with him, Hana.”

The words felt like a release. You had been bottling these emotions up for so long. If you were being truly honest, you had ignored these feelings since the frat party. You thought it would go away after you cried after his birthday party if you just ignored everything. But with your pillows smelling like him, with you desperately wanting to spend more and more time with him, with your heart beating out of your chest every time you saw his brown doe eyes, you couldn’t run away anymore.

You breathed out the very words you were most afraid of, “I fucking love him.”

Hana walked over to your bed and hugged you, “Oh honey, I know.”

author’s note: thank you for reading! i rlly didn’t expect to receive this much support and interest in my writing! lmk if you would like to be added to the taglist for this story! i think pt 4 will be the last part but it will be a little bit before it comes out. thx for reading 🥺💜

tags: @fleurmoon @tangledsparkles @chocolatebelievercrusade @brokenobserver @ncitydreamies @soulstaes @bonnyskies @thelilbutifulthings @busansgloss @imluckybitches @xlectrahearts @embrace-themagic @bts-dreamybaby @belshka @trinbin039 @xxlostinseoul @sheislikearock @madjammil @guksflavor 

[lastwagontrainhopper]

A little help goes a long way

I managed to finish this fic just in time before the end of pride, woohoo!

Summary:  

"Riza sighed and put her pastry down on the table. She looked him straight in the eye.

“I thought we had agreed, Colonel,” she said slowly, “on the fact that we do not have the same taste in women.” "

--

Roy is determined to find someone worthy of his Lieutenant.

(aka even when Riza and Roy are not together, they're still the otp)

Words: 2997

Tags: Royai ,Sort of?, Banter, Fluff and Humor, with just the tiniest speck of angst, Friendship, Riza is gay, Roy is an ally, They Gossip

read on aot

"Other than that, I spend most of my time helping out at my father's metalworking company. Do you know Gordon Industry? "

A few seconds went by before Riza realized she had been asked a question.

She took a long sip of wine to hide her surprise and promptly turned her attention to the young man in the brown suit who stood beside her. Casually leaning against the counter of the bar, he held a glass of whiskey in his left hand, a cigarette on the other.

"No, I’m not familiar," Riza finally replied with a contrite smile. "But I have to admit that, um, metalworking isn’t really a passion of mine."

The young man’s eyebrow shot up in genuine surprise. “Really, you’ve never heard of us?”

Riza had been upfront, but obviously not enough: the boy launched into a detailed description of the business’ operations, while she leaned further into the counter as she attempted to drink her boredom away.

Around them, the air was buzzing with conversations. The bar area was dramatically overcrowded: to reach the dancefloor in the next room, one had to elbow its way through the crowd - Riza had almost dropped her drink twice already from being pushed around. A tape recorder in the opposite corner was screaming out a blaring jazz tune, and a thick cloud of cigarette smoke was already beginning to form on the ceiling.

The Labor’s Day party was certainly not the fanciest celebration of the year, but it was nevertheless one of Riza's favorites. On this day, she was truly off-duty: there was no information to gather or higher-ups to compliment, and no reports to make at the end of the night. Besides, it was a rare opportunity for the military to mix with the civilians of Central, which led to some interesting encounters.

Well, most of the time.

Riza nodded idly as the young man continued his monologue. She had exhausted her repertoire of polite ways to end a conversation: this man was either incredibly tenacious or splendidly oblivious. He had even followed her to the bar when, on the pretense of getting a drink, she had tried to sneak away! For the umpteenth time, Riza’s thoughts drifted to the gun that was strapped on her right tight – sadly not a serious solution. She sighed and rested her chin against her left hand, her elbow on the table.

"Lieutenant! "

The interjection snapped her out of her reverie immediately. She raised her head and looked over her shoulder to see the Colonel - who else - who was just emerging from the crowd.

Riza hadn't seen him since the start of the night; he liked to keep busy on this type of occasion. But he didn’t seem in the mood to party at the moment: his expression was tense and he didn't even have a drink in his hands. As the Colonel reached the bar, he placed a hand on the counter between Riza and the young man, turning his back toward him as if he hadn't noticed his presence.

"Lieutenant, we just heard back from Havoc," he told her with a tone as serious as his face. "Target's on the move; we need to go now."

It did not take Riza long to understand. Without skipping a beat, she put her drink down, grabbed her purse and let her face fall back to its usual, serious appearance.

"Got it, sir."

Roy turned around and began to walk away. She went to follow him until a hand grasped her shoulder.

"Wait!" It was the young man - of course - looking dumbfounded, as if he hadn't followed what had just happened. "Can I at least get your number?"

This time, Riza didn't bother to fake a smile. "Maybe some other time."

With that, she twisted out of his grasp and ran after the Colonel who had already disappeared into the crowd.

She caught up with him as he exited the bar and entered the larger dance room. Riza took a few deep breaths; although the guests were just as numerous, the air here didn’t feel nearly as oppressive. The Colonel kept his rapid pace until they had crossed the sea of guests dancing in the middle of the room, swirling in all directions like raging waves.

When he slowed down and finally turned toward her, Roy wasn’t even trying to hide his self-satisfied smile.

"And you're welcome," he said with a half-mocking bow, stretching out the first word.

Riza took a moment to adjust the sleeves of her dress who had slipped off her shoulders – the garment wasn’t really made for this kind of wild chase.

"You know, people are going to become suspicious if you keep doing this," she replied as they started to walk again at a much more relaxed pace. "Besides, how do you know you didn't interrupt a perfectly lovely conversation?"

Roy threw her a knowing look. "Lieutenant, don't insult me. I could sense your annoyance from across the building." They were now entering the dining room, where guests could sit on small rounds tables to enjoy the buffet - not very fancy but quite filling – that laid on the counter along the wall. He smirked, putting his hands in his pockets. "That polite face of yours wasn't fooling anyone.”

"It was certainly fooling him."

"Men see what they want to see," Roy said whimsically. He glanced behind them, then pulled Riza by the arm. "Wait, let's sit. I think the guy might be looking for you."

They swiftly sat down on the first empty table they could see. Thanks to the people standing in small groups around them, their presence was hidden from most of the room.

Riza tried to look around, but couldn’t the young man's brown suit. She went to sip her drink and realized she had left it at the bar.

She sighed. “Guess I’ll need to lay low for a while. But thanks for the help, Colonel,” she added with a rare touch of honestly.

“Always my pleasure,” he nodded slightly. “Give me just a minute.”

Roy stood up and walked toward the back of the room. A few moments later, he returned with a plate filled with some of the few ragtag dishes that had survived from the buffet, and placed it down between them.

Riza suppressed a small smile. "You don't need to keep me company, you know."

Roy shrugged, mouth already full of shrimps. “I could use a break from the networking. Plus, being seen chatting with a beautiful blonde can’t hurt my image.”

“Except everyone knows that blonde is your subordinate,” Riza answered flatly, leaving the other problem unsaid. She reached out to grab a chocolate éclair. “This isn’t even a military event, and you’re still thinking about work?”

“Military event or not, many influent figures of Central are gathered tonight. Can’t miss that opportunity.” Roy licked the butter off his fingers, a gesture that contrasted with the classy black suit he was wearing. “But while we are talking….”, he turned his attention back to her, “there is actually something I needed to tell you. I’ve received intel on a certain individual, here in the capital, which seems rather intriguing.”

Riza fell back into soldier mode in the blink of an eye, straightening up on her chair. “What is this about?”

Roy raised a hand in front of him. “Relax. It’s not about the military.”

Riza frowned. Intel about someone from Central, without it being related to their work? What else could this be about?

It took a few long seconds for the realization to hit her. Oh.

“Sir….” she began warningly, hoping she was wrong.

Roy had a smirk on his face now, like a kid trying not to laugh at its own prank. “Now that I think of it, you in particular might find this person – her - interesting.”

Riza sighed and put her pastry down on the table. She looked him straight in the eye.

“I thought we had agreed, Colonel,” she said slowly, “on the fact that we do not have the same taste in women.”

He raised his hands defensively. “I know, Lieutenant, I know. Which is why this isn’t someone that I would date.”

Riza frowned, suspicious. “How come?”

“A bit too austere for my taste,” Roy answered offhandedly. She gave him a piercing look, and he caved in with a sheepish smile. “But mostly because she wouldn’t want to date me. You, on the other hand…”

Riza ignored his comically wiggling eyebrows and went back to eating her eclair.

“Do you even know if I’m her type?” If women were her type, was what this meant.

“My trusted source tells me so.”

He grabbed an olive and popped it into his mouth before leaning forward, his forearms resting on the table. There was a playful glint in his eyes.

“She’s in her late twenties, work as an investigative journalist – so smart, without a doubt, and with a touch of boldness. According to what I’ve read of her, she seems to have her heart in the right place too - you should see what she writes about Bradley’s administration. I didn’t even think it was legal to print this kind of thing!”

Riza hummed noncommittally. So far, so good.

“And I haven’t even got to the best part,” Roy continued, raising his index for emphasis. “My trusted source tells me she has not one, but two dogs.”

Riza raised an eyebrow. “Two? Sounds like a lot to handle,” she replied, keeping her tone neutral.

He smirked. “But you’re not the type to back down from a challenge, are you, Lieutenant?”

Riza sighed. She had forgotten how persistent Roy could be when he had good intentions. “God, you sound like your sisters right now.” A doubt crossed her mind, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Did your sisters had something to do with this?”

Roy leaned back in his chair. “She goes to the same hairdresser as Bianca,” he admitted shamelessly. “They’re friends.”

“You are impossible,” Riza said with a half-smile, shaking her head. “I’ll think about it.” Roy nodded, apparently satisfied, while she grabbed the last piece of bread from the plate. “But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“I haven’t seen you with Madeline for a while.”

“Oh, well…” Roy looked away, his expression growing more somber. “Things were starting to get too serious between us. She wanted to move in with me.”

Riza felt her teasing smile fade off. “So, you broke it off?”

“No,” he replied a bit defensively, “we had a conversation about it like mature adults. I told her how I really feel about…all of that. And she decided to end it.”

It wasn’t the first time she had heard that story. Riza felt a pang of sympathy for him. “I’m sorry about that, Colonel.”

He shrugged it off, trying to appear casual. “It’s alright. I had a feeling it would end this way.”

Around them, the crowd had begun to dissipate, as guests wandered outside to enjoy the cool night air. Riza spotted two unopened beers lying on a table nearby that was now empty and got up to get them.

"You know," she said as she sat back down, placing one of the bottles in front of Roy, "there are plenty of women who would be happy with a casual relationship, no string attached."

“Trust me, Lieutenant, I am aware,” he replied with a smirk. “And I’ve had my share of that in the past. But I’m almost thirty, now; I’m not a young man anymore.” He popped the beer cap off on the edge of the table – his favorite party trick – and took a swig. “It’s only natural to seek something a bit more meaningful, someone with which I can drop the act.”

Riza raised an eyebrow as she searched through her purse for keys. “So, you want a serious emotional relationship with none of the practical aspect? Seems to me like you want to have the cake and eat it too.” She finally founded them and opened her own beer with a flick of the wrist.

Roy frowned. “Well, you seem to manage to get exactly that. You were with Rose for what, 2 years? Without any talk of moving, marriage, kids or whatnot.”

Riza gave him a flat look. “Yes, because if we had done anything like that and someone found out, she would have lost her teaching position – and I would have risked getting kicked out of the military. That’s hardly a pleasant reason.”

“Of course,” he nodded, “you’re right. But in our case, you have to agree that it is convenient. “

Riza hummed reluctantly. It was, in a way: she never had had to reveal the real reason why she didn’t want to  - or couldn’t - commit too firmly to a relationship. She was grateful for that; even among her most trusted partners, there weren't many who would have understood.

“But all is not lost!” Roy said after a moment, pulling Riza out of her thoughts. He set his bottle on the table with determination. “I have decided to try a new approach to dating, one that I think is promising.”

Riza looked at him, tilting her head with curiosity.

“I’m going incognito.”

She took a sip of beer. “Interesting. Any alias?”

He crossed his arms, musing. “Think I’ll stick to Roy. Just Roy, a simple guy looking for someone to spend the weekends with, without getting too engaged in each other lives. I’m sure some women are looking for that.”

“It will be a bit harder without your whole “Flame Alchemist” thing going on, though,” Riza notes, amused.

“I know,” he smirked, “but that’s the fun of it. You see, with my reputation, I can easily sway the most exquisite women in Central – except one, that is.“ Riza rolled her eyes at his sideways glance. “But the kind of women that are interested in me rarely is the one I’d like to end up with. In fact,” he chuckled somberly, “if someone falls for my “lazy, arrogant Hero of Ishval” persona, either they’re in it only for the prestige or they’re a terrible judge of character.”

Riza nodded slowly. “An unfortunate consequence of your strategy.” There was a short silence. Then she propped her chin in the palm of her hand, elbow on the table, and let out a teasing smile. “At any rate, I am looking forward to seeing how this will turn out. If only to know if you’re half as good as a seducer as you’ve always claimed to be.”

That made Roy laugh, throwing his head back. He looked at her with a fond expression, the type he only had after a few drinks. “You know, I’ll never get over how unfortunate it is that I’m not your type.”

She smirked. “I think it makes everything a lot simpler, actually.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But the best things in life rarely are the simple ones.”

Riza chuckled, and the two fell into a comfortable silence as they worked on finishing their beers. They were lukewarm, and not of the highest quality, but that didn’t matter - this was a night for familiarity and comfort, not luxury.

Suddenly, something in the room caught Roy's attention.

"Oh - I think I just saw her!" He craned his neck, looking at something behind Riza.

"Her?"

"The journalist. Come on!" Roy was already on his feet, motioning for her to get up.

Riza frowned as she pushed her chair back. "You mean she's here?"

Roy turned back toward her. "Do you think I would have told you all this if she wasn't? You underestimate my organizational skills, Lieutenant." She snorted, but let the comment slide. "By the way - have you seen what was on the news about Major Kingsman's trial?"

Riza tried to remember what she had read in the newspaper the previous Sunday. "I've skimmed through it, yes..."

"That'll do." He maneuvered between the tables, heading toward a woman who had just stopped by the buffet - or what was left of it. "Ms. Delacroix! We were just talking about you! I would like you to meet Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye - she's the subordinate I was telling you about."

The woman turned in their direction and smiled as she recognized the Colonel. Her outfit was simple but elegant, a linen shirt with a low-cut neckline and flowy black pants. Her brown hair fell down her back in a long braid, and her face was covered in freckles.

Riza felt like her jaw had just dropped. God. Did Roy even know how much she loved freckles?

The woman turned her attention to Riza as she came up beside them. "Yes, I remember! It's a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant."

Riza suppressed her sudden urge to rearrange her hair- which must have looked atrocious, after hours in those stuffy rooms - and stepped forward to shake her hand.

"The pleasure is mine, Ms. Delacroix," she replied warmly. For once, it really was.

"So," the woman began, looking at Riza with interest, "Colonel Mustang told me you had some questions about my recent article in The Central Times?

Riza swore internally. She made a mental note to take it up with him later. "That's right," she said with a small smile. "I'm afraid I'm not an expert in the subject, but your article certainly caught my curiosity."

Before Ms. Delacroix could respond, Roy glanced over his shoulder. "I'm afraid I heard someone call my name," he chimed in, not looking the least bit sorry. "I'll leave you ladies to it."

He bid them both goodbyes, bowing his head at Ms.Delacroix, and promptly walked away.

Over the journalist’s shoulder, Riza saw him look back after a few steps. He caught her gaze and gave her a satisfied grin, mouthing something.

"You're welcome."

Riza bit down a witty retort and instead turned her attention back to Ms.Delacroix. The Colonel could wait; she had more important matters in front of her.

[eves-library]

How to Lose a Man in Ten Days AU//Bucky Barnes x Mexican!Reader Latina!Reader

Chapter One: The task

Summary: In the hopes of saving her friend’s love life from being publicly exposed Y/N takes on the task of writing about her love life while leaving her out of her article. 

Word Count: 1668

Warnings: Mention of breakup and some stereotyped characters (?)

PSA: PLEASE READ First I want to thank @allaboardthereadingrailroad for the opportunity of participating in her Diversity Challenge. I gotta admit I haven’t read a lot of latina!reader or mexican!reader. This was not only a challenge for me to write but I took it as a chance to read stories with that certain type of reader too. The reason I haven’t read too much of these reader inserts is that I don’t always feel identified with the way latina!readers and mexican!readers are portrayed. This is my version of a reader I feel identified with being a Mexican girl. I still left the reader mostly uncharacterized, but there are certain hints here and there that are a telltale for the reader’s background and culture. It will be more evident as the series progress. Finally I just want to say that I took the decision of writing the reader this way because I believe we cannot encapsulate a certain type of girl just by mexican or latina, we share a nationality and culture, yet just by changing states (here in Mexico) traditions change and sometimes the difference is a lot. 

A/N: I’ll be posting a chapter every 3 days. Enjoy

Y/N finish tipping on her computer as Natasha read over her shoulder, “With not only families being torn apart but human beings being treated like animals, the question of immigrant laws being changed should not be a question but a pressing matter.” Y/N turned to look to Natasha as she finished reading, “What do you think Nat?” Natasha gave her a smile and a shoulder squeeze, “I believe it is one hell of an article and I would print it in a heartbeat, but I am not Lana and she will never print it.” With a defeated sigh and her face falling, Y/N saved the document and closed the tab, “I can’t believe I busted my ass to get a master’s in journalism at college just so I could be ‘Y/N How’? Maybe mom was right and I should have not left home.”

Y/N turned her chair completely so she could look at Natasha face to face as Natasha leaned on the bearly there wall that separated their cubicles, “I think you should send some of your work to a big new’s paper, I’ve told you hundred times,” Natasha said to Y/N and before the girl could say anything in her defense, Mandy or “Mantis” as she liked people to call her popped her head next to Natasha on the division of the cubicles “Ladies, don’t forget we have a staff meeting in thirty minutes!” she said softly and as suddenly as she had appeared she disappeared, Natasha was the first to speak up in a low tone so not to be heard by anyone but Y/N “How does she always manage to sneak up on us!” and once again before Y/N could speak up Mantis appeared, “Don’t forget to bring all your good vibes and ideas!” she pipped in before she left for good, prompting both Y/N and Natasha to laugh. 

As their laughter died Y/N stood up looking around the office of cubicles “Have you seen Wanda today?” Natasha turned her gaze directly to Wanda’s cubicle and found it empty of her things, “No, I don’t think she has arrived yet,” Y/N looked at her wristwatch and sighed, “Okay, it is my turn, you go get us a coffee.” Y/N went to grab her coat and purse and as she was making her way out of the office Natasha called for her, giving her a bag with samples, and Y/N grabbed a dark red jacket from a passing cart of clothes used for photoshoots. 

Y/N arrived at Wanda’s apartment in less than 10 minutes, she knocked on the door two times before Wanda finally opened up, a small fake smile on her face which lasted for two seconds before tears started streaming down her cheeks once again, “Oh sweetie, come here, what happened?” Y/N questioned as she stepped in and hugged her friend, Wanda sniffled and cleaned her tears before speaking as she let Y/N walk inside her apartment. “Vision, he broke up with me last night!” Wanda said as her eyes filled with tears once again. 

Y/N walked in to check the state of the apartment, and just like Wanda, it was a little disheveled, especially the area where the couch was and where Wanda had been watching rom-coms and eating icecream. Wanda then walked past her and directly onto the couch but before she could lay back down again, Y/N grabbed her arm pulling her in the direction of her room, which Wanda did, only protesting a little before Y/N finally asked, “Oh, honey, I’m sorry but you can’t let a guy get you fired at work! Come on, I promise after we are done at the office we’ll come back and watch all the rom-coms you want I’ll even get you my grandma’s special hot chocolate you like so much!” Wanda’s eyes glinted at the prospect of Y/N’s offer. 

Y/N went through Wanda’s closet getting a pair of tight black dress pants and a loose black blouse that will look great with the dark red jacket she had brought from the office, and as Y/N was looking for the perfect heels to go with the outfit Wanda plopped down on the bed, “What is wrong with me Y/N? Why doesn’t anyone wants me?” Y/N turned around and took a seat next to Wanda on the bed letting Wanda rest her head on her shoulder, “Listen to me, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You are a beautiful, talented, successful woman, that when she falls in love she does it fast and deep. Sometimes that scares men, which makes it their loss because you, my dear, are a great catch, and you’ll find a catch too.” 

Wanda smiled softly up at her and Y/N gave her a squeeze before getting up, “Now get dressed! we have fifteen minutes before the staff meeting starts, and I’ve brought samples!” Wanda chuckled and in less than five minutes the two of them were on their way back to the office, Wanda finishing her light makeup on the taxi cab. 

The two of them arrived at their building with three minutes to spare, time enough for the elevator ride up. They met up with Natasha at the doors and each took a cup of coffee. As they were making their way into the building Natasha asked what happened and Wanda told her Vision had broken up with her, “Did he gave you any explanation?” Natasha asked and Wanda let out a long sigh, “Just the same, it was not me, it was him, but I really thought he was the one you know?” Natasha turned to look at her with skepticism “Wanda, you dated the guy for a little over a week!”

Wanda blushed a little over Natasha’s comment, “Maybe… but I just had a feeling you know?” Both Y/N and Natasha chuckled at Wanda’s expense and Wanda blushed harder. Y/N shrugged and send a wink her way, “It’s okay Wanda, it’s only that your heart loves easily and lightheartedly if guys don’t know how to realize that it is on them.” Wanda smiled at her and they soon arrived at Lana’s office, everyone taking their place around in the couches and seats.

Lana entered the room at last and her authority voice boomed around the place, “Good morning family! Shoes out everyone!” Y/N turned to her right to see Wanda and Natasha sitting down and taking their shoes off as Y/N did the same. Once everyone in the office was settled, either on a couch or the floor, Lana spoke again. “How are we doing for this month’s number?” Mandy was the first to raise her hand, going on about an article on plastic surgery and how it ruins people’s life “it is kind of gory but surprisingly… optimistic.” Mandy ended with a smile on her face, Lana went on asking everyone in the room and suddenly it was Wanda’s turn, who had an off look on her face, probably still thinking of last night’s events with Vision. 

Natasha nudged Wanda lightly just to bring her attention back to the meeting at hand and Lana kept on looking at her expectantly “I’m sorry Lana I had a bad night,” she started and Natasha explained shortly, “She got dumped.” Wanda turned to glare at her and Natasha mumbled a silent “Sorry” Wanda turned her look back at Lana with an embarrassed and sad smile on her face. Lana smiled at her with a surprisingly empathetic look before she spoke “I’m so sorry, isn’t it sad everyone?” She asked and everyone in the room started nodding and mumbling soft “sorrys.” Lana then looked down at the notebook on her lap before she spoke again “Write about it, and get it off your chest” Wanda turned to look at her and started protesting “Lana I’m sorry but I can’t do that, it is my personal life!” Lana looked up and smiled again “Of course, you’re right,” and she looked around the room “Who wants to write about Wanda’s love life?” 

Wanda was so shocked by the lack of empathy her boss was showing that she just opened and closed her mouth trying to figure out a way to protest and then a hand was raised, Mandy enthusiastically asked for the opportunity “Great, you’ll do it, Mandy, what’s next?” Lana said and Wanda finally spoke up, “I’m sorry Lana but I can’t let Mandy write about my personal life!” Natasha and Y/N had been watching everything unfold before them and suddenly Y/N had an idea, “I’ll do it” she said and Wanda turned to look at her as if she had stabbed her in the back and Y/N continued “I won’t write exactly about Wanda, but she’ll be… my inspiration.” Y/N said and Lana was intrigued, she made a sign with her hand motioning for Y/N to continue, “Look at Wanda, she is a beautiful and strong woman, yet she has trouble keeping a relationship,” Wanda looked confused and a little bit hurt, Y/N mumbled a silent “Sorry” her way before she continued “So… I’ll write about the common mistakes girls like Wanda make when they first start dating,” Lana considered it for a moment before she spoke, “I like it, yeah, you’ll date a guy and then lose him.” Y/N nodded trying to work for a title “Yeah! I’ll call it ‘The Common Mistakes of Dating…?’”

Lana stayed silent for a couple more seconds “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days!” Lana noted it down on her notebook and was about to move on when Y/N asked “Sorry Lana but why in ten days?” Lana turned to look back at her “Well five days is too little of time and we print in eleven days, so it has to be done in ten days.” Y/N nodded and the meeting went on.