#like he actually properly knows his way around a kitchen and genuinely likes to cook. to me

[noelledeltarune]

i do think that emmet would just be a person who likes to cook like as a hobby and would be very good at it much moreso than ingo but i get why people think ingo would like cooking because i can picture him hearing pokemon guy fieri saying he's "taking the train to flavourtown" and having it become a lifelong interest

[viciousvortexx]

My headcanons about Vergil's bad traits

♥ because life is not a bed of roses

just my silly hc about the bad side of his personality or things i think he can't do, anyways, we love him the way he is <3

★ He used to shut out people a lot and avoided talking properly about problems, Vergil wanted to show his superiority and power trying to make the others think about the situation without properly solving it, and also, it's damn hard for him to say out loud when he's wrong.

★ Hides his emotions a lot, Vergil won't admit what he's feeling because he's afraid of getting vulnerable and weak, sometimes this also goes for good emotions, these are probably the ones he consider to show more vulnerability.

★ Professional in the art of the awkward silence, it's really complicated for him to pull up conversations or keep them going, Vergil will start to look around, avoid eye contact and clean his throat constantly in a casual conversation.

★ If Vergil is too deep into something that's he's doing and failing, he won't stop till he get it right, even if it drains all his patience, he won't give a break, this also makes him a overworker, trying to finish things all at once.

★ He's insecure, Vergil can be a master at fighting demons, but all the time he spent isolated made any kind of relationship with other people a challenge, after all, he'll secretly think he's ruining all the fun by not being so active like the others.

★ BAD AT COOKING, my man spent years trapped in hell, never touched a pan this whole time, you really think he knows what he's doing inside a kitchen?

★ Overprotective, Vergil will always be afraid of loosing the things or the people he cherish, this can lead him to think he's the only one that can protect something.

★ (DMC3 Vergil specifically) Thinks he's better and superior to anyone, but doesn't realize how naive this is.

★ His awareness can be a bit dangerous sometimes, since he can pull the Yamato really quickly and end up hurting someone he thought it was a threat.

★ Won't ask for help to do something he knows won't be able to finish or learn by himself, he'll wait for someone to offer support. “Alright, I suppose I'll allow you to join me this time...”

★ Vergil is a jealousy person, and like most of his emotions, he'll reprehend it and won't talk about it, getting afraid of loosing something will lead him to get jealous very quickly.

★ If you get yourself in trouble, he's going to save you and then scold you, talking about how you shouldn't have done this, listened to him and how dangerous that was, maybe that's just his way to show he's concerned and cares.

★ Extremely hard headed, this makes him kind of a stiffy person, he won't see a second option for certain situations even if there's another, though, this also means he'll always fight for his his ideals and defend his opinions, it's not easy to change his mind.

★ Struggle to rely on others, this leads Vergil to push people away or refuse new connections, things are going to be fine if he stays in his social comfort zone.

★ Difficulty to react to certain things people say, I feel like at a specific point in his life, Vergil would get full of himself when receiving compliments because he thought that was a good reaction, while he got older, realized that being overconfident it's annoying and actually push people away, so now he doesn't know how to react to compliments and can act all awkward that doesn't express his genuine feelings.

[k4ulitzs]

can u do one where reader invited tom around to her house and she excuses herself to get some water and her mum comes in and starts talking about how he is not the man for her, but neither of them knew tom followed her and was listening? Ending with fluff? Ty

perfect ~ tom kaulitz

little bit of angst, fluff.

thank u sm for this req anon, much appreciated !!

Knock knock. My head shoots up from my phone, an ear to ear smile forming on my face as I knew who was knocking - my boyfriend tom who I had invited over. Just as I was about to stand up, my mum pokes her head through the kitchen door.

"who's that?" she asks, her eyes squinting. "don't worry, it's just tom. I'll get it." I sighed, reading the uneasy look on her face. My mum has to be the most judging person I know, and of course, she has not yet properly met my boyfriend, but just by the way she was looking at me, I could read her like a book. I stood up, not caring about her thoughts on him. I love him, and wether she did or not, it would never change how I felt.

"mum, can you please keep your opinions to yourself for now? I don't want you unloading on him. He's nervous enough, he doesn't need you piling on." I state, making it clear I didn't want her harsh opinions making tom feel hurt in anyway. After all, tom was a very soft person, so an opinion as unaccommodating as my mums would definitely hurt him.

She raised both her hands. "fine, fine." she sighed, disappearing back into the kitchen. I roll my eyes, knowing my mum, even though I had warned her, she would probably still say something. I walked towards the door and opened it, smiling once I saw his beautiful face.

"hey baby." he smiled, lowering his head with a blush forming on his cheeks. I could tell he was nervous. And though he wasn't actually in a 'meeting the parents' situation, I could still tell he was unsure about coming here. After all, the previous encounter he had with my mum did not go so well, her throwing disguised insults his way all the time.

"hey love, come on in. Let's just go straight to my room, okay?" I say in reassurance, helping him realise we can avoid my mum. He slowly nods, seeing me holding my hand out, he takes it and let's me guide him in.

I quickly take him to my room, avoiding my mums presence as much as possible. I close my door behind me, and sit on the bed with him. I take a movie dvd out my drawer, and put it into my tv, watching the movie begin. he took my hand and pulled me closer, wrapping an arm around my waist and laying my head on his chest, his hand rubbing small circles on my waist as we both felt warm, watching the movie in eachothers embrace.

After the movie finished, i turned my head a little, seeing that tom had fallen asleep. Small breaths emitting from his parted lips, his arms wrapped around me comfortingly, his head resting close to my chest. I couldn't help but admire him right now.

I felt pretty thirsty, so somehow I had to go to the kitchen without waking tom up. I manoeuvred my way out of his hold as gently as I could and, somehow, I managed to without waking him up. Or so I thought.

I made my way into the kitchen, seeing my mum cooking dinner. I ignored her, because I knew if any conversation were to start, she'd somehow bring up her disliking for tom into it, so i stayed quiet. Grabbing a glass, I poured some water into it. Yet even my attempts to avoid any sort of talking with her, were not enough. "I'm telling you, he is not the one. You are blinded by his pretty looks, but does he even really lo-" I quickly cut off my mums words with my own.

"mum, can you please stop? I'm not blinded by shit, leave him the fuck alone. Can't you and me have a normal conversation without you finding a way to bring up how horrible you think he is?" I argue, not at all in the mood to hear her talking badly about him, again.

I just wish she knew what went on behind closed doors. In all, he was a genuine sweetheart and cared about me. She had no idea, and the reason being, because she had probably scared him with her quick assumptions, so now if he tried putting effort in, he would be worried it wouldn't be enough to please her, and in the end, all he wanted to do was make a good impression. However, my mum never gave him the chance.

"im never wrong, and I'm warning you here and now, he doesn't love you. He seems like the kind of man to take advantage of you. Why can't you just listen to me? I'm trying to protect you!" she argues back, but I didn't care, I was not going to let her insult him for no reason.

"what?! He would never take advantage of me, are you hearing yourself?! You have no idea what he is like because you were too quick to judge him. You've probably scared him off! You aren't trying to protect me, so don't feed me that bullshit." I scoff, my tone getting louder by the second.

Her mouth opened to say something more, but her speech was interrupted by a sigh that came from outside the kitchen. Shit.

I open my bedroom door, seeing tom lay there, his tongue playing with his lip ring, I could tell he was uneasy. "baby...? How much of it did you hear?" I sigh, disappointed in myself for letting all this pressure get to him.

His eyes flickered to me, "all of it, I got up after you left the room." he softly groaned. He suddenly sits up, speaking once more. "this is too much. I don't wanna sound rude baby I promise, but your mum is too much." he softly sighed, rubbing his temples.

"oh love..." I exhale, making my way over to him and sitting beside him. I take his hand, and hold it with both of mine, holding it just under my chin and giving it a few kisses, leaving him smiling. "I know how she can be, trust me. But just because she doesn't like you, doesn't mean I don't. I love you." I say the last part slowly, hoping it registers. But after his puzzled look and his silence, I immediately regret speaking.

"oh...! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have sa-" my words are cut off by his free hand cupping my cheek, and kissing me, the kiss so clearly full of love that we can feel eachother smiling. His tongue lightly grazes my bottom lip, laying one last soft kiss on my lips before pulling back and resting our foreheads on eachothers. "I love you more, schatz." he kisses my nose, sighing contently after he spoke.

I smile widely, and kiss his cheek. "and don't worry about my mum. I want you and only you, you're perfect." I whisper, before he has a wide grin spreading across his face, pulling me close and pressing his lips onto mine.

~

Send anything in <3

[mychlapci]

Single mommy Sentinel Prime would end up spending most of his days in an increasing daze as his charge mounted. Everything just gets him so WET these days, to the point where he ends up shoving a towel or pad behind his panel to keep from leaking lubricant down his legs. But he’s constantly cleaning up after his bitlet, scrubbing on his hands and knees to keep things clean and safe for baby like a good mommy should. Constantly rocking and soothing and nursing his sweet little bitlet, belly just barely swelling with their little sibling already. The strings of his apron tickle his aft if he doesn’t tie them up properly, and sue him—maybe he likes the tease. It’d never be appropriate to overload around his bitlet, so he’d hold off until baby is put down for a nap or for recharge at night, simmering with helpless charge from the kink he accidentally gave himself. Essentially teasing himself all day, if not outright edging. Mommy Sentinel wouldn’t know it, but trying to keep it together as being the perfect, sweet, pretty mommy ramps up his charge actually improves his general demeanor. Makes him more docile as he fights to keep people from figuring out how needy his empty valve feels. Being a parent is good for Sentinel, the bots around the office have been saying, it really calmed him down.

But at the end of the day he’d be rabid for it, valve soaked with lubricant and ready for the applicator to administer his supplements. By the time he’s pregnant with the second bitlet he’s probably given up the pretense: his limp spike stays untouched as he stuffs his valve and feverishly strokes his node. He gets off on the idea of what a wonderful job he’s doing, furiously imagining ways to be even better, be the best, prove how amazing he is at parenting just like everything else. They thought he couldn’t do it; worse, that he’d be BAD at it. Well look at him now! Muffling his cry of overload with fingers slick with his own juices, tasting himself with an embarrassed moan. His most recent fantasy would have humiliated him a few months ago, but as a new mommy Sentinel can’t wait to start watching cooking tutorials and practicing in the kitchen the way that he watched his parenting classes with his first pregnancy. Bitlet won’t be nursing on his heavy, milky titties forever after all. Maybe he can even incorporate his own energon into the recipes. There are health benefits to that, you know, and the bots at the office would certainly love some goodies now and then. He wouldn’t need to say anything of the additional nutrients. Nobody needs to know how hot it makes him to be so soft and sweet, to be such a good carrier. It’s none of their damn business if a mech as skilled and multitalented as Sentinel Prime felt more than the usual pride over it.

And of course with bitlet number two on the way, field work is right out. There’s no way he’d be deployed with a baby and another on the way. But Sentinel genuinely would not be a Prime without at least some valuable skills, arrogant or not, so perhaps the Elite Guard wouldn’t quite be willing to let him go or outright discharge him. He could still support the Autobot cause from a desk after all, and his paperwork skills would take some of the burden off of the Primes more active in the field. If seeing a calm, happy, pretty, /pregnant/ mech at the desk lifts morale then that’s just a bonus. Sentinel tells himself it’s a vantage point—nobody comes or goes without him knowing, no gear or missions are assigned without them passing his desk, no events that he doesn’t put on the schedule himself. It’s the perfect spot to boss people around as his belly swells enough to make walking more uncomfortable. And the gossip is probably insane between him and the likes of Cliffjumper as time goes on.

The jury’s out on if he’d ever figure out that he’s essentially become a very well-paid secretary, but denial is probably keeping the peace in that office and so nobot’s telling him. And to be fair, he IS very efficient.

Ooooh, that’s what I wanna hear, Sentinel calming down a little bit after having his first sparkling, becoming a little more bearable to be around because instead of gloating and being a grade A shithead for no reason like he normally would have, he’s now mostly talking about the sparkling, still gloating, fair, but as long as no one else has a sparkling for him to compare his to, he doesn’t get to be as much of an asshole anymore… Though once he gets knocked up again and is out of the office, everyone is still pretty happy. 

now i wanna think about Sentinel taking his transfluid supplements behind his desk as he fills out forms and organizes missions, rocking against the applicator feverishly while still forcing himself to read every little word, desperate valve clenching tightly as he overloads just at the end of the document, rubbing his swollen baby-bump <33

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Remembering my grandpa: the coolest guy I've ever met

so, like, still haven't processed what happened. that's honestly pretty typical for me, it's something I used to feel really guilty about (everybody around me would be crying, and I wouldn't actually feel those emotions for upwards of a year), and I've gotten better at addressing what's under the surface before it gets to the point of a breakdown. there are several reasons for why my biggest personal metaphor for grief is as follows

our love is a garden; this grief is a seed

mostly been keeping myself busy, just cleaned most of the kitchen in one go, probably going to clean my room later today. also been thinking a lot about how incredibly cool my grandpa was. he's genuinely one of the most rad people I've ever had the chance to meet, and I don't even know all of his stories!!! just gonna ramble about him for a bit

dropped out of high school (and later got his GED) because WW2 was happening and he enlisted (either lied about his age or was just barely old enough). got recognition for his marksmanship skills, and (forgive me for not knowing his official rank/title) even ended up being a sort of guard for a high ranking officer. I remember being told that when they had to drive somewhere, Gramps was the guy with a scoped rifle keeping an eye out for trouble, ready to counter ambushes or something like that.

(the point is that I haven't heard the details since I was a kid, but his rifle skills were incredible, especially considering his age at the time)

known for drinking Respect Women Juice and being a stand-up guy. I've read some of his memoirs (not published, but they might be at some point, I'll let y'all know), and he talks about how mad he was at my grandma's dad (his eventual father-in-law) because the FIL was soooo excited to have "man time" with Gramps, after already having treated Grandma like the son he would have preferred, and Gramps couldn't understand why FIL wasn't appreciating the incredible woman that Grandma was. seriously, Grandma was also a badass, an equally incredible sharpshooter who only quit competing (having reached the highest level for women in the US) because she realized in order to keep winning she'd have to actually put time and effort into getting better. also she was a great cook, apparently. had a real temper tho

Anyway, there's also some other stuff about his respect for women, but that involves a bit of family drama with other relatives that I don't want to get into online. The gist is that he went out of his way to make sure that several women in the family got treated fairly, especially when some people weren't properly appreciating the work of a stay-at-home mom.

He was an active scuba diver for many, many years, and several of his longest friends were met via the hobby. at one point, he even worked with several of them to buy a large amount of land on San Juan Island (of the San Juan Islands), where they divided it up and all built houses together. I have many memories of going to visit during the summer, and honestly it was really impressive what they built together. Grandpa also loved kayaking, and even dabbled in making kayaks!

Putting more under the break because I recognize this is lot

In order to get to San Juan Island, most people take a big ol ferry. during an incident that got a fair bit of coverage in the local newspapers, my Grandpa was taking the ferry when he realized someone in the distance was in trouble (small boat, might have gotten flipped or something, again don't remember all the details). Grandpa was quick to take action, got the attention of the ferry's crew, and was able to arrange a rescue. If he hadn't noticed the boat, chances are the person/people would have died.

Gramps was very active even up into his mid-to-late eighties (genuinely very fit and healthy until his kidneys started failing), and had some fun ventures as part of a historical group that went around the San Juan Islands finding old map markers/territory markers (god, I wish I remember the right word) and using modern tech to record their exact locations. It was like a scavenger hunt, almost, using old/outdated maps to find these things.

He was also an official boat inspector for Friday Harbor (the main part of San Juan Island) for several years, and was recognized for his hard work/the sheer number of inspections he did.

On top of all of this, my Grandpa was genuinely one of the warmest, funniest guys around. If someone asked me to think of an example of healthy romantic love, I would think about my Grandpa and my step-grandma. Then I'd think about my brother and his gf but that's a whole other thing. Grandpa was full of love, and had no qualms with showing it, using his musical talent for serenading her (he also joined in during the family gathering jam sessions). The way he looked at her will be forever engraved in my memory, full of love and full of life.

There are plenty more stories about Grandpa, some of which I just never heard, and some of which I have simply forgotten. I'm gonna miss him.

[king-star]

hii! can you please make a natasha x reader fic where they both have been dating for a while and it's natasha's birthday and the reader surprises her with a brand new suit that she made herself and nat cries bc she never got a meaningful gift and the reader also surprises her with cake and more romantic gifts. you could make the reader tony's sister so it would make more sense that she's good at making suits but you don't have to!! thank you sm i need sum cute natty 😫

Birthday Suit

Warning: Use of the pet name Sunflower,

Match: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: So this one was fun. I hate my birthday but this actually was cute. I’m trying a new way of presenting the dialogue. aesthetically it looks better but I’m not sure how it reads. I've seen other authors do the dialogue on completely seperate lines so just lmk if this is good.

Word Count: ~2.5 k

Summary: It’s Natasha's birthday, and despite her acting like she hates it you shower her with love.

The smell of cooking cake fills the compound. Even from the workshop, where you are, the sweet scent permeates the air. You have been baking for long enough to know what that smell means, the cake is almost done.

You check the clock on the wall. 2:44. Nat would be home at 5.

“Shit. I need to get this done,”

You shake your head and set down your wire cutters. The list of everything you need to get done before she arrives rolls through your mind.

It was her birthday. She didn’t know her actual birthday so years ago she made one up. The chosen date was a closely guarded secret she only shared with those she trusted most. For the most part the assassin didn’t even celebrate. When you had asked a week prior what she wanted to do she had brushed you off claiming,

“I don’t really care. As long as I get to be with my love.”

She had kissed you, hoping the kiss would fog your mind from any further planning. Unfortunately for her you were a big schemer, always going as big as you could for your friend’s birthdays.

You walked out of the workshop, making one last longing look at her unfinished gift on your messy work table. No one was around today. The one Saturday everyone had off a month. Natasha had gone shopping with Wanda, a plan conncocted to give you plenty of time to get everything ready.

“Friday do you mind turing the oven off?”

you asked the A.I. as you headed down the hallway.

“Of course Agent Y/L/N,”

entering the kitchen you picked up a discarded list of everything that needed to be done. Two items were crossed off “Bake the cake, movie fort.” The unmarked items looked at you teasingly and you felt anxiety rise in your chest. What if you didn’t get everything done and this birthday made Natasha hate birthdays even more? You shook your head trying to chase off the thoughts and went to the oven.

“One perfectly baked chocolate cake coming up,”

grabbing an oven mitt you pulled the cake out of the oven and placed it on the counter. Carefully you coerced the cake from the pan and set it on the cooling rack.

Back when Wanda and you ventured into the baking realm you had begged Tony to put in a floor to ceiling blast chiller. The kind that was always on baking competitions. He reluctantly agreed, with the price of always having to give him a taste of your creations. The freezer was immensely helpful in tight circumstances. You were more than grateful for it now.

You set your cake into the freezer and went to the pantry to pull out all the ingredients you needed for icing. You poured the powdered sugar and placed the butter into the bowl. When you turned on the mixer a cloud of sugary powder exploded in the kitchen. You blinked and licked your lips. Bringing a hand up to wipe your face, you laughed hard. Sugar covered the entire counter and floor beneath you, not to mention your already grease stained clothes.

“Wow, is my little sibling doing coke in here? And without me!”

a snarky voice sounded from across the room. You opened your eyes and squinted at your older brother with a scrunched nose.

“Can it Tony,”

You growled, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself off the counter. Tony laughed at you and opened the freezer to look at what sweet treats awaited him tonight.

“A cake? Are we celebrating?”

He laughed and made a teasing face. You rolled your eyes and called out to Friday.

“Can you order me four containers of icing from the store to be delivered?”

“You got it!”

her chipper accented voice came over the audio. You threw the towel in the sink and landed a punch in Tony’s arm as you left to go change.

“You better not eat any of that cake until Nat has had at least one slice. I know where you keep those rare magic cards you think no one knows about and I will not hesitate to cut them all in half,”

He looked at you in shock. Whether it was because you knew about the secret stash or because you would dare cut them you weren’t sure. The only way to get Tony mad was to go for something he couldn’t replace with money.

“YOU WOULDN'T FUCKING DARE,”

You run away as he climbs out of his chair and chases after you. You run into your room and lay on the door to push back a Tony who was only a few steps behind you. When you finally force the door into the frame you turn the lock and fall to the floor laughing.

Angry mumbling came from the other side. Tony pounded on the door twice before, defeated. walking away. After catching your breath you pulled your sugar stained clothes off and changed into the outfit you’d set aside that morning.

“Y/N the man just arrived with the icing,”

Friday called out to your room and you nodded.

“Thank you Friday. Have him set the bags in the kitchen,”

Friday hummed in agreement. You stood up and looked in the mirror checking yourself out. When you were satisfied with the look you unlocked the door and turned to the right. You really needed to finish Natasha’s present. You wouldn’t even have time to test it properly. You really hoped the phrase “it’s the thought that counts,” was true. Her gift could be something that got you endless kisses or a real crash and burn.

Making it to the lab you set your hand on your head and groaned. You really hoped it worked. It was so pretty. You grabbed the wrapping paper and box and set it in with a kiss.

“Natty, I hope you like it,”

The gift finished the fort built, and cake baked, there was only one thing left to do, ice the damn cake. You could bake sure, but only Wanda ever mastered the art of making it look beautiful.

When you made it to the kitchen Tony was nowhere in sight and a plastic bag with what you assumed was icing was set on the counter. You pulled out a butter knife and dug in, hoping this looked somewhat edible. Wanda was the one who was skilled at decorating. You could make the elaborate pastry chef treats, but you could never handle the finer details of making it look pretty.

~

You were in the workshop when Friday alerted you that Wanda and Natasha were home. A feeling similar to anxiety or excitement fluttered in your chest. This was the first time you’d celebrated her birthday with your girlfriend. You wanted her to like birthdays again. To feel as special and loved as you can pour out for her.

“Thank you Friday. Please tell them I’m in the workshop and will be heading to the game room shortly,”

You set down the gauntlet you’d been fixing while waiting for them and brushed off your outfit. Your eyes searched over the shirt for stains, and when you were satisfied you were clean you headed to your “party”.

Wanda was the first to come in. She threw her hands to her face and “oood” and “aweeed” over the spread you had out.

“Y/N your cake! it’s…. adorable,”

you punched her in the shoulder with a frown. She fell over laughing.

“I TRIED! and I’m sure it tastes amazing.”

you crossed your arms and pouted. She sat back up still laughing and patted your back.

“She’ll love it Y/N. Even if it had ‘fuck you Nat’ written on top she’d love it,”

you smiled at the complement and stopped pouting. You were explaining the technology behind Nat’s present when the woman of the hour finally walked in.

“What is all this? Are y’all having a party? and didn’t invite me,”

she sat down next to you intertwining your fingers with hers and kissing your shoulder. You smiled as the excitement anxiety mix returned.

“Actually…. it’s for you,”

You smiled and kissed her hands. She looked genuinely surprised. You really hoped the feeling was happy excitement.

“oh- Y/N y-you remembered? and you didn’t have to do any of this. I thought I told you i didn’t care to celebrate,”

you felt Wanda stand up to leave with a pat on your shoulder. You smiled up at her and turned back to Natasha.

“I know I know, but I wanted to do something special. You love me so well and work so hard all the time. You deserve a day that’s unapologetically about you,”

You knew if Natasha didn’t have such complete control of her emotions she would be crying. The agape mouth gave that away. You smiled and leaned forward pulling her into a deep, intimate kiss. Feeling her smile against your lips you pulled away and leaned your forehead against hers.

“I love you Natashka. I will do anything to make you feel like Queen of the world,”

with that she started crying. You frowned and wiped away the tears.

“I really hope those are happy tears,”

she nodded quickly and smiled, sniffling a little.

“Very very happy tears. happy ‘I don’t know what on Earth i did to deserve you’ tears,”

“It is I who does not deserve you. The Great Black Widow. I’m just here to make you smile, it’s my life goal,”

you bowed as much as you could sitting down. Placing a peck on her lips you turned back to the presents and pointed.

“Which one should we open first?”

she pondered and then picked up a small box. Nimble fingers unwrapped the box and pulled out a Ring. You had managed to get her size weeks earlier fitting one of your own on her finger when hanging out. She looked at the little silver band with a carved sunflower at the head. A smile bloomed across her face and she hugged you.

“Oh my goodness Y/N, it’s so pretty…,”

she slid it onto her fingers, finding the one it fit best and stared at it. You hugged her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“Well, you are my sunflower. It’s just a reminder when we are away,”

Her eyes lit up at the nickname. It wasn’t as common for you to use it as baby or sweetheart, but sunflower had always been her favourite.

She looked at the other boxes realising they were also for her. You picked up the next box, a medium sized one and handed it to her. You were saving the biggest for last.

She was just in awe and set it down before unwrapping it. Her hands snaked around your waist and pulled you flush to her. Her soft lips pressed kisses to your jaw and she set her head on your shoulder.

“Thank you so much Y/N, I- no one has done something like this for me ever,”

She hugged you tight again and then let go picking back up the present. You nodded and kissed her head. Pushing some hair out of her face you stroked her hair softly. Her hands once again unwrapped the gift. She squeaked at the sight of the book underneath the paper.

Natasha never got to read much on her own accord growing up. The red room picked out books for her education but never anything she would actually enjoy. Long ago Natasha had told you the first book she read after getting out of the red room was Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and since then she adored the book. You had found, and paid for with Tony’s credit card, a first edition of the book. The auction was rough but you needed that book for Natasha.

Natasha stared at the book once, again jaw hanging open. She wiped her hands on her pants before handingly the book with utmost care. She flipped it over and ran her fingertips over the indented letters and gold illustration on the front.

“Y-you like it? I know you said you like Alice in Wonderland. It’s uh… actually a first edition copy. Tony was about ready to kill me when he saw me pay for the bid,”

You laughed nervously. She turned the book around again and then set it on the coffee table. She tackled you and pushed you back on the couch kissing all over your face. You yelped in surprise then grabbed her hips, catching her lips and kissing her roughly. She melted into the kiss but you pulled away.

“As much as I love this Natty, let’s open your last gift and eat some cake,”

You sat up and pulled her so she was in your lap. You placed a soft kiss to the back of her neck as she reached for the last gift. It was heavy but the assassin had no trouble lifting it.

“After that we can makeout in the fort I made. yeah?”

You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her close to you, rubbing circles on her thigh. She laughed and nodded, blushing profusely.

“I like that idea Y/N,”

She opened the box and pulled out the gift you put months of effort into. This time her reaction wasn’t as instantaneous. You helped her pull all the pieces out and set it on the coffee table. She looked at it slightly perplexed.

“I’m sorry… I’m not exactly sure what it is,”

She pouted and looked at you. You smiled and nodded knowing she wouldn’t. You set it out so she could see all the parts.

“Well… uh it’s a new suit. You always say that you don’t like how tight and revealing your other ones are so I kinda beefed this one up so it focuses on functionality,”

She nodded along as you explained. A look of understanding crossed her face as she pulled at the sleeves.

“ohhhhhhhh. That makes so much sense. I- Y/N what the fuck. I can’t express it enough. You are the best, you listened to me and used it to give me the best gifts i’ve ever gotten. You are the most thoughtful partner,”

You beamed. The feeling you knew she was struggling to express, it was exactly what you’d wanted her to feel. Loved, heard, appreciated, and cared for.

“I’m glad sunflower. That’s what I wanted. To make you feel as good as you deserve. D-do you mind if I tell you a bit about the features? I didn’t have time to test some of them so I will need to do that before you take it into combat,”

She nodded and slid off your lap to look at you. You patted her legs and squeezed then held at the sleeve first.

“Well of course it wouldn’t be a suit for the Black widow without gauntlets. These can change through three different modes for different levels and types of stuns also a laser if you need that for aiming,”

You flipped on the laser and pointed it at a pot then turned it back off.

“Also I made it so the suit can suction to your body but be limp to put it on. a lot easier to slip on ya know. And there is mobile but thick padding on all major points of contact for falling. Shoulders, hips, elbows, knees, the like.”

Natasha ran her hands over the surprisingly thin padding and smiled.

“Wow baby that’s… amazing,”

You nodded and picked up the bag attached to the back.

“And uh there’s a parachute built in as well as pockets up the legs, arms and boots so you don’t have to have the belts. They are sorta magnetic so you can like open them easily but when they are closed everything stays in. OH AND THE BOOTS,”

You started to ramble on about the energy absorbing boots you worked with Shuri on that would allow Nat to drop from double the height of a normal human with no damage to her knees or feet. Nat just stared at you hungirly.

“Hey baby, I seriously appreciate the gift. It’s honestly the best thing I've ever gotten. Why don’t we try it out tomorrow and you can show me EVERYTHING. For now we can… sit in the fort like you said,”

She had a cocky smile and you blushed at her antics. You nodded quickly, cutting off your rambling. Her hands found your waist and she pulled you off the couch and into the pillow fort you had built.

“I uh- got a movie for us to watch. Do you want to?”

She nodded and smiled. A look that very much meant “Yes. That's sweet, but I doubt we will be watching it.” You pulled her into your lap, setting your hands on her waist. She draped hers over your shoulders and rubbed light circles on the back of your neck. You leaned forward and trapped her lips in a kiss. Soft but full of passion.

The rest of that night was spent watching the movie and kissing. When you finally remembered the cake a slice had been taken out of it, with

“You were busy with Romanoff so I took what I was owed. The package has been moved, try getting me now little sibling.”

On a sticky note beside it. Natasha had laughed, unsure exactly what had happened but sure it was a story she would much enjoy hearing.

She had moaned over how good the cake was after laughing at how “Adorably” it was decorated.

“So Nat… did I make this birthday worth celebrating?”

She smiled wide and nodded.

“Yes Y/N, if every birthday was like this I would never want to stop celebrating.”

Tag List:

@xburningbluex @zoeyserpentluck @iamgaiiiuwu @natasharomanoffswife @fleurlovesbucky @fayhar @ymzki-haruki @lostandsearching

Natasha Tag list:

@basiclesbianbitch @stephanieromanoff @sapphicshots @madamevirgo @choni-trimberly@wlwlovesreading @i-just-like-storage @screamsin-gay @ymzki-haruki

[doeilovr]

DREAMING

-> Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

-> Genre: Angst, a bit of fluff

-> Warnings: mentions of car accident and amnesia, smoking, swearing, mentions hospital

-> Words count: 3.5k

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Jaemin opened his eyes, the fluorescent light making his head hurt a bit. He looked around, mouth dry and mind blank. Jaemin’s eyes were still adjusting to the light, when he suddenly felt a hand on top of his.

Jaemin’s eyes wandered to your sleeping figure, head resting on the bed, while your hands were covering his gently. He froze, studying you with furrowed brows.

You moved in the probably uncomfortable position you were in, lifting your head to meet Jaemin’s eyes. “Hey”, you gently said, almost in a whisper and with a warm smile on your lips.

“You slept here again”, Jaemin stated, trying his best to smile back at you. You shrugged, properly sitting up in the chair, hands not leaving Jaemin’s.

Jaemin studied you, his eyes wandering between yours and your warm hands.

Why, just why was it so hard to remember. Jaemin wished he could remember you the way you remember him. He wished he could give back the love that radiated from your eyes.

You chuckled awkwardly, pulling your hands back to fix your hair and shirt. “So”, you mumbled, “I hope you atleast slept well?”

Jaemin smiled, seeing your awkward expression. “Like a stone”, he nodded, “why, did I often sleep unwell?” He was suddenly curious, wondering what else you knew about him that he didn’t.

You bit your lip, “actually, you just stayed up late often, working.” Jaemin was a photographer, that he remembered, but everything after one year ago was erased from his memory.

Which was a lot, since he had met you a year ago. You immediately fell for each other the moment his eyes found yours. You met in a park at midnight, both of you in need of a walk and some fresh air.

Somehow you both stopped by a busker that night, Jaemin being attracted by the voice of the singer performing in the almost empty riverside park and you overhearing the words of comfort hiding in his lyrics.

You and Jaemin had talked until the early morning, just sitting by the river. And afterwards you had both left, feeling happy until you realized you hadn’t even exchanged numbers.

Neither of you believed in fate, yet somehow you crossed paths only a week later in Japan. Both volunteering for the same organization. You couldn’t believe your luck, neither did Jaemin.

Jaemin didn’t waste any time after that and asked you out a few days later when you were both back home again. You were young, but every step with Jaemin felt just right.

The car accident happened so fast, leaving Jaemin with bruises and amnesia. And you with a shattered heart.

He was in the hospital for a whole week now and it was so hard to introduce yourself to him again, as if you didn’t date him for a year already. And having Jaemin constantly look at you like he didn’t promise to be with you forever just a week ago.

But as heartbroken as you felt, you saw how much he tried to remember and make you feel comfortable. You couldn’t help but get yourself together aswell, for the sake of Jaemin and your relationship.

“It’s lunch time”, the door to Jaemin’s private room opened, the male nurse walking in, holding a plate of food and putting it down in front of Jaemin.

“Thank you, Jeno”, you smiled, sitting on the edge of Jaemin’s bed. Jaemin looked between you and the male nurse, wondering if you were friends or something.

“There’s some food for you too, y/n”, Jeno smiled back. “Jaemin, enjoy the lunch!” Jeno patted him on the shoulder slightly, before he turned around to leave again.

You moved a bit closer to Jaemin, preparing the food for him and pouring him a glass of water.

“Oh, yummy”, you clapped, eying the food on the yellow tray, “it looks really good.”

Jaemin bit the insides of his cheeks, his eyes on you. “Can- can you help me?”

You stared at him, heart clenching at the sound of his almost helpless voice. “Sure”, you whispered, moving closer once again.

You fed Jaemin in silence for some time, smiling at how much he enjoyed the warm food. “Have some too”, Jaemin suddenly spoke, nudging his head in your direction.

You nodded, taking a bite from the food aswell, not even thinking anything as you ate with the same spoon. “It’s good”, you smiled, covering your full mouth with one hand.

Jaemin chuckled at the sight, “I’m glad.” You continue feeding Jaemin, making sure to also let him have a sip of water in between.

“By the way, the doctor said that maybe you could go home in a few days already. Isn’t that great?” You smiled again, watching carefully not to spill any food.

Jaemin raised his eyebrows at you, swallowing the bite quickly. “Home.. to my family?”

He seemed genuinely confused and you suddenly felt bad, having forgotten for a moment that he didn’t remember everything you shared together.

“We live together. In a small apartment. But I mean if you want to go to your parents’ house instead-“ you shrugged, Jaemin interrupting you quickly.

“No. I want to stay with you.” He nodded, more to himself, eyes staring blankly on the half empty plate in front of him. “Besides, my family’s in Busan. I would have to travel and I don’t want to do that right now.” You only nodded at his words, continuing to eat in silence.

—

On the weekend, the doctors agreed that Jaemin could finally go home. You packed his stuff, while he changed in the bathroom, before the two of you left the hospital, taking a taxi home.

For both you and Jaemin it had been a while since you were last out. Especially Jaemin seemed very careful and almost anxious.

You unlocked the door to your apartment, letting Jaemin go in first. You had asked a friend of yours to come by every couple days to tidy up the space.

Your apartment was small, a bedroom and en suite and a cozy living space. You had no balcony, but access to the rooftop, which was pretty great too.

You were almost a bit frightened, watching Jaemin drop his bag and look around, stopping by the pictures on the bookshelf.

Carefully you approached him, taking a look at the picture in his hands. It was taken in Japan where the two of you met for the second time.

You really liked that picture, both of you doing what you loved the most, helping others. “When was this taken?” Jaemin tilted his head, squinting his eyes a bit as if he tried hard to recall the memories.

“In Japan, a year ago. This was our second time meeting each other”, you explained, Jaemin nodding.

“We met while volunteering?”

You hummed in response, “yeah and we couldn’t believe we had the luck to meet each other again like this.” You couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“Wait, when did we meet the first time then?” Jaemin turned his head to look at you.

“At a park, a couple weeks earlier. We were strangers, but we both stopped to listen to a busker and I don’t know, we were drawn to each other somehow.”

Jaemin smiled a bit, not remembering the feeling, but still knowing what you were talking about. “Kind of romantic that we met again”, he mumbled.

“Yeah”, you giggled, “we stayed there for a few days, helping where we could. We sticked together for the whole time, probably afraid we could lose each other again.”

“And then? Did I ask you out?”

You nodded, meeting Jaemin’s eyes. “Yes, only after we spent a few more nights together. It was kind of cute how quickly you asked me out.”

Jaemin furrowed his brows, “we had a lot to talk about, huh? I mean, is it normal to spend so many nights talking?”

He seemed really confused, but you couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his arm slightly. “I didn’t say we talked”, you added with a cheeky grin.

Jaemin stared at you with wide eyes, suddenly flustered. “Oh”, he only mumbled.

You walked into the kitchen, feeling a bit bad for laughing at him. “Are you hungry, Jaemin? I can make you dinner if you want?”

Jaemin placed the frame back on the shelf, before he walked into the kitchen too, looking around. “I am yes”, he answered, eyes roaming around. “But could I maybe wash up first?”

You turned to face him, standing on the other side of the kitchen island. “Oh my god, sure. Sorry, I hadn’t thought about that.” You scratched your head, feeling a bit awkward.

“It’s fine”, Jaemin bit the inside of his cheeks, “ehm, where was the bathroom again?”

You gestured behind him, “it’s next to the bedroom. You can take a bath if you want. I can cook in the meantime.”

Jaemin nodded. “We have a bathtub?”

“We do”, you smiled, your heart hurting a bit when you remembered how much Jaemin wanted one when you were searching for an apartment together.

“Cool”, Jaemin grinned, “then, I’m gonna take a bath.” He turned around, disappearing in the bathroom. The sound of the water being turned on was heard soon after.

You prepared a simple dinner, consisting of noodles and a salad, while Jaemin washed up. You couldn’t wait to also wash up, rinsing off the smell of the hospital.

“Y/n?”

You turned around, having just poured the sauce over the spaghetti. Jaemin stood in the living room, a towel wrapped around his waist, his wet hair covering his forehead.

“Yes Jaemin?”

“Could you help me with this”, Jaemin held up a fresh bandage, indicating for you to help him with his wounds.

You nodded vigorously, putting the pot in the sink before you walked over to Jaemin, gesturing for him to sit on the bed, since it was more comfortable than the sofa. You kneeled down in front of him.

“I could have done it myself, but-“ Jaemin started. “Don’t worry, I’m happy to help”, you smiled, eyes focused on the bandage he handed you.

You carefully removed the old one from his stomach. The scar underneath looked a lot better already. “I’ll put some ointment on it”, you whispered, one hand moving to hold his waist, to have a steadier hand.

Jaemin hissed at the contact, “your hand is cold.” You looked up to him with apologetic eyes, mumbling a “sorry”.

Jaemin watched you intently, feeling so grateful to have someone by his side. He still wished he could give back the love that he always saw in your eyes.

It really burdened him that he knew barely anything about you or the life you shared.

“I’m sorry”, he suddenly mumbled, not even realizing he had started to cry. “I’m sorry I can’t give you the love you deserve. Or anything at all. I’m sorry that I hurt you so much, I really wish I could remember everything. I really do. I’m just sorry.”

You blinked back tears, your heart clenching at his words. “Dont apologize, Jaemin.” You sat down on the bed, pulling your boyfriend into a hug. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. And you don’t have to be sorry, okay?”

You couldn’t help but also cry, both of you just hugging each other tightly, sharing the same pain. Jaemin pulled back after what seemed like forever, holding your head with both of his hands.

“I’m gonna try my best to be the man you deserve again. I’m gonna go back to be the Jaemin you knew. I’ll try my best”, he promised, thumb brushing over your wet cheek.

You only nodded, overwhelmed by his loving words for you. Jaemin gently placed a kiss on your forehead, drying your tears with his thumb. “It’s gonna be okay”, he whispered, pulling you back into his arms again.

Jaemin’s promise was what gave you hope again. He really tried, learning about himself and you. Trying to be his old self again.

You tried aswell. Feeding him with the information he wanted and being there for him when he needed you.

Nothing could change your love for Jaemin, you felt like it only grew with every day. But you still couldn’t help but wonder if Jaemin even felt the same love for you.

A few days after you had shared these loving words, you and Jaemin sat in bed together. You were reading, while Jaemin looked through albums with pictures he took the past year.

They were mostly of you and the trips you had made together. They were mostly connected with volunteering, which made Jaemin happy. All he ever wanted was everyone around him to be happy.

He found a fairly recent picture, where you two were sitting at lunch. Jaemin couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw himself holding a cigarette.

He gasped, which made you immediately look at him in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I- I smoke?” Jaemin was really shocked about himself. “Am I stupid?”

You wanted to laugh at his cute voice, but you remembered how hard the past few months in your relationship were because he started to change.

“Well you did. Doesen’t mean you still have to”, you shrugged.

Jaemin dropped the album in his lap, turning his head to you. “Any other stupid thing I did that you haven’t told me yet?” His voice got really high in the end, while his eyes only widened.

You bit your lips, a few things coming to your mind. Jaemin’s eyes widened, since it had only been a joke. But you really did seem to have some things to say.

“Actually”, you sighed, putting your book down, “I don’t know why you did all of these things, but at some point you really.. changed. It was only a month ago, when we would start to fight more often. I was really convinced you would leave me, but then-“, you cut yourself off, averting your eyes.

Jaemin tilted his head, “so I was an asshole?”

You looked back at him and couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. “Jaemin”, you smacked his shoulder playfully.

“Only an idiot would do leave someone like you”, Jaemin mumbled, shaking his head at himself.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I mean, you’re still here right.”

“And I always will be”, Jaemin smiled, grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze.

At this moment it felt as if the Jaemin you had once met at the park at night sat in front of you again. Not the Jaemin he had turned to before he had the accident, but the Jaemin that looked at you as if you were his whole world.

You unconsciously leaned in closer, Jaemin now only inches away. His expression was of a mixture of fear and adoration.

Jaemin didn’t dare to move or lean in closer, he was scared. Scared he would hurt you again. Panicking, he lowered his head, dodging your kiss. “We should sleep, it’s late”, he mumbled, letting go of your hand and lying down.

You watched him with a sad expression, watched how he shut off just like he did back then. And somehow it hurt even more now. Was it because you had crossed a line? Asking something from Jaemin he wasn’t ready for?

Without another word you put your book aside, lying down aswell and hoping that tomorrow was gonna be better.

—

“Jaemin listen”, your sharp voice cut through the noise of the engine, Jaemin sighed as his grip around the steering wheel tightened.

“I don’t want to talk about it, we’ve had this before”, Jaemin answered, seemingly annoyed.

“There you go again, shutting off whenever I want to talk it out”, you shrugged, staring at Jaemin’s side profile as his eyes were focused on the street.

It was night and you were driving home from dinner. It was an evening he had planned out so well once, your one year anniversary. But the plan he had a few weeks ago just didn’t seem right anymore.

“If you can’t accept me the way I am then maybe we should stop it”, Jaemin suddenly spoke out. You couldn’t believe his words, couldn’t believe that your Jaemin was capable of saying something like this so easily.

“No, that’s wrong. Jaemin, you can’t do that.”

Jaemin let out a short laugh. “See? That’s the problem. You won’t let me do anything. To you I’m so perfect. Perfect Jaemin”, he explained with a loud voice. “But I don’t want to be that anymore.”

A tear rolled down your cheek. “So you say you wanna break up, because you can’t bear me trying to help you.”

“Help?” Jaemin took a quick glance at you, his focus quickly going back to the street. “When did you ever help me, huh?”

“What do you mean? I told you to start taking photography seriously. I told you to stop smoking, so many times. And you told me you were thankful. Was that all for nothing? Was it all just a lie?”

Jaemin was silent, his head spinning. You turned away from him. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Na Jaemin. I can’t believe I spent so much time on you. On loving you”, you muttered.

“What did you just say”, Jaemin sounded surprised, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Just let me out, for God’s sake”, you shouted. Jaemin stepped on the brake, the car coming to a quick halt.

You were about to unbuckle your seat belt, taking one last look at Jaemin. He was staring at you, as hurt as you. “I- I’m sorry”, you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I’m sorry for believing we were meant to be.”

Just when something flickered in Jaemin’s eyes, your gaze wandered behind him. It seemed like time had stopped in that moment, when two headlights came closer and closer until they fully illuminated your car.

You and Jaemin looked at each other and then the car hit you.

Jaemin who hadn’t buckled his seatbelt out of anger hit his head several times, unlike you.

Jaemin opened his hand a few times. One time when the ambulance had just arrived and his eyes wandered to your figure that was still in the damaged car.

Another time when they transported him down the hallways of the hospital. Several nurses and doctors shouting and talking.

“Stay with me Mr. Na. Stay with me”, a male voice shouted. Jaemin would always recognize Jeno, the nurse that took care of him the most in those days in the hospital that followed.

And then one time when he was already in his private room in the hospital and you were there beside him, crying. “Jaemin you can’t leave me. Please”, you sobbed, your warm fingers gently trailing along his arm. And that’s when everything went black until he woke up with amnesia.

Lying close to you, feeling your heart beating and I'm wondering what you're dreaming Wondering if it's me you're seeing

Jaemin halted next to the River, listening in on the sweet tunes from the busker nearby. He walked up to the young man, who stood alone in the park at midnight, singing his heart out.

He smiled to himself, the familiar melody warming his heart a little. He looked around, stopping on the figure on the right side of the busker. On you.

In a quick moment your eyes met and something inside Jaemin told him that everything was gonna be alright. All his grey days would become so bright and colorful.

And like that, like the little switch that turned when he saw you for the first time, all his memories came flooding back.

—

Jaemin sat up in bed, breathing heavily and sweating. Startled you turned on the light, moving closer to put one arm around him.

“What’s wrong Jaemin”, you asked concerned, rubbing his back gently to comfort him.

Jaemin’s breath was still shaky. “I had a dream”, he muttered, still trying to calm his beating heart. Jaemin turned to you, his eyes full of love and emotions.

“What”, you asked again, not knowing what was going on. Jaemin smiled, a tear building in the corner of his eye.

“I love you. I love you so much”, he smiled, embracing you tightly. You were still a bit confused from his sudden reaction. “I love you too Jaemin, always will.”

“I’m sorry for doubting we weren’t meant to be”, Jaemin whispered against your neck. You mouth fell open, but Jaemin didn’t let go off you, only hugging you tighter.

“Jaemin”, you whispered, at loss of words.

“I remember, I remember it all”, he cried, moving back so he could look at your eyes. “I love you so much and I wanna thank you for sticking with me for so long. For not giving up on me”, Jaemin confessed, feeling absolutely overwhelmed.

You didn’t know whether to cry or smile, your heart felt like it healed again. “I missed you so much Jaemin.”

Jaemin held you against his chest again, gently stroking your back like he always did whenever you were sad. He was back, your Jaemin was finally back.

“I’m not gonna leave you ever again, I promise”, Jaemin softly spoke, planting a kiss on top of your head.

“I know.”

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a/n: this one has been in my draft for ages.. and finally I finished it hehe :3 I hope you enjoy it and I also wish you a nice weekend! Btw I’m also working on all the requests ;)

[myherowritings]

of gold stars and lotus crisps

SUMMARY. You didn’t always get along with your roommate. But with his disarming charm and genuine kindness, you soon found yourself taking a liking to Zhongli and all the little gifts he got for you. 

PAIRING. zhongli x reader

WORD COUNT. 3.0k

GENRE. roommate au, modern au, fluff

A/N. i’m in love with zhongli, did u know? 😳 anyway i think i had way too much fun writing this ahdjksd so pls enjoy 🥺💓 xx sof

Your roommate wasn’t particularly airheaded, you wouldn’t say. But he did seem to either forget or not care for the mundane, everyday things in life. 

Mundane, everyday things such as closing the door as he entered, turning the faucet off after washing dishes, bringing his wallet with him when he went shopping, eating enough meals throughout the day needed to properly sustain his health... 

Honestly, you had to wonder how on earth he’s kept himself alive all these years. It wouldn’t surprise you if he was pampered and spoiled rotten all his life. (Though, after getting to know him, you started to realize he did nothing out of malintent and he wasn’t actually a spoiled brat.)

Still, it was annoying at first—you couldn’t lie. 

Those weren’t characteristics you wanted in a roommate, but with how high rent was these days, it wasn’t like you had much of a choice. You’d rather split rent with someone who seemed fairly harmless, albeit a bit of a handful, than go house-hunting all over again.

In the beginning, it was a chore. Constantly closing the door after him or reminding him to lock it himself, paying attention to the running water in case he left the faucet open and accidentally flooded the place, cooking extra for breakfast so he could have something to eat instead of just skipping the meal— It was a lot to deal with at first.

But he was receptive to communication. After you sat down with him one night and genuinely told him about the things that bothered you, Zhongli tried to be more mindful of his surroundings and checked the sink before leaving the kitchen. He brought his keys with him and closed the door. And he even remembered to bring his wallet whenever the two of you went out to eat together! That was a feat in itself, you had to say. 

One thing he never quite got the hang of, however, was not skipping meals due to sheer forgetfulness.

“Did you eat breakfast yet?” you would ask. 

He would pause, putting his book or whatever else was capturing his attention at the time down. “Breakfast… I’m afraid I can’t remember if it was yesterday or the day before when I last ate it.” 

And that simply wouldn’t do. 

You found yourself waking up a little earlier before Zhongli had to go to work and cooking a little more than usual in order to ensure he had something to eat. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, after all! You couldn’t just let your roommate (and friend) miss the best meal. 

It became more and more frequent for the two of you to eat breakfast together to start your day, bonding as you passed a pitcher of orange juice and shared smiles as the sun shined through the glass windows.

Mornings became a million times more pleasant with him around. 

And it wasn’t as if your friendship was purely one-sided, with you giving more than you were getting. In his own ways, Zhongli would express his gratitude and liking towards you. 

Most days, he’d come home from work or from hanging out with his friends with a gift in his hands. Whether it be a shiny figurine from an anime you liked or an obscure snow globe with indecipherable writings on it, he would offer it to you with a wide-eyed look on his face, as if he was deliberately gauging your reaction. 

“Y/N, would you care for this gift? It reminded me of you and I thought you would like it.”

Or—

“You said you were a fan of this show, correct? I’m not sure who the character on this sweatshirt is, but it seems to suit you.” 

Soon, you found all of Zhongli’s gifts to you taking up a whole corner in your room, from the clothes in the dresser to the trinkets resting on the shelves atop. You couldn’t help but smile fondly whenever you glanced at it. 

The routine became second nature, with you cooking meals for him and eating breakfast and sometimes even dinner together, him giving you random gifts and treating you out (when he remembered to bring his wallet, of course). The two of you seemed to settle into a nice, content rhythm. That was, until the past few days when you started feeling an odd flutter in your stomach and an unfamiliar race of your heart in Zhongli’s presence.

You didn’t sense those physiological changes when you were around him before… Why was it happening now? 

After hours of thinking, you came to the conclusion that these symptoms could only be one of two things: Either you randomly caught the case of a stomach bug, or you developed a crush on your roommate. 

You couldn’t say which would be worse. 

And to add insult to injury, you were having this sudden revelation only minutes before Zhongli’s arrival back home. He was out for the weekend and would be here for dinnertime. 

You decided to make a meal of Bamboo Shoot Soup with Lotus Flower Crisps for dessert— Something a little fancier than usual and something you knew he liked, and for some reason, you felt nervous at the thought of him tasting your cooking this time. It was often the case you cooked for yourself and made enough for him to have some servings, but today, you wanted to make things he enjoyed in hopes of having him be pleased by the effort you put in. 

Sure, he would’ve appreciated a sloppily put together Adventurer’s Breakfast Sandwich, but an annoying part of you couldn’t help but seek praise from your crush for a dish you put your heart into. 

Soon enough, you heard the familiar jingling of keys and unlocking of the door as Zhongli stepped inside, slipping his shoes off and removing his overcoat. From the corner of your eye, you saw him pull out a small box from the inner pocket of his coat and slip it into the pocket of his slacks. 

“Hi, Zhongli! Welcome home,” you greeted from the kitchen as you shut the stove off. “You came just in time for me to finish making dinner.”

Home. Was calling your shared space ‘home’ strange? It seemed oddly domestic and you felt your heartbeat pick up speed. It felt right to call it home, and that made you nervous. 

“It smells delectable,” said Zhongli with a smile, rolling his sleeves up his forearms before he washed his hands in the sink. While he dried off, he watched as you scooped the contents of the pot into two bowls. “The bamboo looks perfectly cooked and the pork seems tender and succulent. It’s lovely; thank you for taking the time to cook it, Y/N.” 

You felt heat flood your cheeks at his flood of praises, puffing your chest up ever so slightly. “Well, maybe you should taste it first before you shower me in compliments— What if it’s not as good as it looks?” 

“Having knowledge of your culinary skills from past experiences, I believe it’s unlikely for this meal to be anything less than delicious.” He helped you carry the bowls and utensils to the dining room table, sitting down in front of you with a fond look on his face.“After all, you made it.”

Stuffing your mouth full of bamboo shoots to prevent a dopey look from spreading and inevitably outing your newfound crush on him, you mumbled a quick, “Thanks.” 

He nodded, promptly settling into a comfortable silence as he enjoyed every bite of the soup. Like usual, the meal was on the quieter side, save for his occasional compliments and hums of satisfaction as he ate your cooking. 

“Somehow, you manage to outdo yourself each time,” he commended as he finished his bowl, carefully folding his napkin in a neat square after dabbing it across his mouth. “Thank you for the meal and company, Y/N.”

“Of course. I always enjoy having dinner with you.” 

“Maybe tomorrow, you would allow me to take you out for dinner at Xinyue Kiosk? You recently expressed an interest in having Yue cuisine so I managed to talk to the owner and secure a reservation.” 

Your eyes widened. Xinyue Kiosk was known for having a waitlist that was over three-months long— Travellers from overseas waited years just to get a taste of their Fullmoon Egg and Golden Crab. 

Just a few days ago, you told Zhongli you were craving some Crystal Shrimp from the restaurant and, while he wasn’t fond of seafood, he promised he’d take you to get some soon. Now, you knew he had some pretty powerful connections through his line of work, but you didn’t know it was strong enough to wiggle his way past a three-month waitlist. 

Did he sell his left kidney for a spot? you wondered, only half-joking. 

“Xinyue Kiosk? Tomorrow?” you repeated, wanting to make sure your ears weren’t deceiving you.

“Yes, tomorrow.” He hesitated, an unfamiliar flash of uncertainty crossing his features. “Unless, of course, you are unable to accompany me or do not wish to do so— I apologize if I have made any rash assumptions—” 

“No, no! That’s not it at all! I’d love to go with you! I was just surprised you got a reservation on such short notice,” you said hurriedly, shaking your head. “But maybe I shouldn’t be too shocked; you are amazing after all.” 

“You flatter me. I simply called in on a favor once I found out you wanted to dine on some Yue cuisine,” he brushed off nonchalantly. “It’s the least I could do for you.”

“The least you could do for me is take me on a fancy date to the most exclusive restaurant in Liyue Harbor, hmm?” you teased. “Is this a grand gesture of your affection towards me?” 

“Yes.” 

His answer was so straightforward and brief, you almost didn’t catch it. “P-pardon?” 

Zhongli smiled but didn’t say a word in response.

Was he just joking around and teasing you back? Your stomach churned in excitement but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. You tried to shake off your nerves. 

There was a beat of silence. 

“I made some Lotus Flower Crisps for us—!” “Would you care for a gift I got you—?”

The two of you blurted out your sentences at the same time, trying to patch the lapse of quiet from settling in.

“Apologies,” said Zhongli, tilting his head to the side. “What were you saying again?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! You can go first!” 

He studied you closely but eventually relented. “If you’re sure.” Zhongli stood up to gingerly pull a mint-colored box out of his pocket, walking around the table until he was next to you. “I was only saying I stopped by the jewelers on the way home from work and picked this up for you.” 

A silly smile spread across your face as you accepted the box into your hands. The jewelry box itself felt durable and luxe, and you opened it up to see cushions of velvet holding a delicate-looking necklace in place. The chain was gold and shiny and there was a small star pendant in the center.

“Stars are bright and brilliant and never fail to light up the darkness. Such a necklace seemed only fitting for the likes of you.” 

Your stomach felt like dolphins were flipping and doing tricks inside. Comparing someone to a star didn’t seem like a ‘just roommates’ thing to do, but you’d rather not assume anything only to be let down. So instead, you just grinned. “It’s beautiful— I love it so much, Zhongli! Thank you.” 

“I’m glad it’s to your liking. Do you need any assistance putting it on?” 

“I’d appreciate that very much,” you said with a nod, watching as his nimble fingers removed the chain from the velvet cushion and gently draped it around you. 

The cool metal brushed against your warm skin, startling you enough that you almost jumped up in your seat. But that feeling of shock didn’t compare to the sparks that came when Zhongli rested his palm against the nape of your neck, taking his time to secure the gold clasp.

“It’s 24 karat gold which means the pendant, though small, may be more malleable than jewelry made of alloyed gold. If you wish to engage in more strenuous physical activities it may be best to take it off then to keep the piece in best condition. Only if that’s to your interest, of course. It’s yours and you may do with it whatever you please.” He removed his fingers from the back of your neck and you felt disappointed at the loss of warmth. “All that to say… I hope you like it.”

Zhongli seemed to have a shy look on his face, a stark contrast from his usually confident and self-assured features. As if he didn’t look cute enough already, you internally swooned. 

“Are you kidding? I love it!” You threw your arms over his shoulders, overjoyed at your new gift. A pure, 24 karat gold piece wasn’t something that sounded inexpensive, and you’d be sure to treasure it for as long as you could. “Thank you so, so much, Zhongli.” 

“You’re more than welcome.” He looked happy that you were happy, smiling as he admired the delicate chain of jewelry around your neck. “It looks stunning on you.”

You glowed at his flattery, but attempted to play it off with a small shrug. “Only because you have good taste.”

“What use is good taste if not to complement the recipient of the present?” said Zhongli, taking a seat back down on the chair across from you. “Now, what were you saying earlier?”

There was a moment of confusion before you remembered the dessert you made for him cooling on the counter. 

“Oh, right!” You stood up in excitement, bouncing over to the kitchen to pull out a tray of Lotus Flower Crisps. “I made these for you,” you said nervously, placing the sweets in the center of the dining table. “It’s probably not as good of a gift as the necklace you got but—”

“It’s better,” he said with certainty.

You blinked. “Better?”

“Yes. After all, you made it.” His voice was confident and his smile was firm as he looked fondly at you. “A gift that requires time and effort to create is the best one a person could receive.” He admired the blooming fried pastry, gently touching the part that was meant to resemble a petal. “Maybe I can make you a gift instead of buying it one day as well.”

“I’d appreciate anything from you,” you said plainly. “If you came home with a half-off candybar, I’d love it nonetheless.” 

Zhongli chuckled, taking a bite of a Lotus Flower Crisp. “You’re very generous. That’s just one thing I like about you.” 

You grew bashful. Just one? Then what were the other things?

“This tastes absolutely delicious, by the way,” he said, the last piece of his pastry disappearing between his lips, the pink tip of his tongue poking out to sweep a loose crumb off the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for making this, Y/N.”

Forcibly tearing your gaze away from his lips, you took a drink of water to clear your dry throat. “You’re welcome. I’m happy you think so. I was worried the taste wouldn’t be to your liking.” 

“No need to worry then, I trust in your culinary skills completely.” 

You shared a smile as you ate the pastry in contentment. The sweet crispness of the pink flower felt light in your stomach, the perfect dessert to complement the mood. 

Once the two of you were stuffed full, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to your conversation at the beginning of the night. 

“So…” you trailed off, promptly gathering Zhongli’s full attention. “Earlier, when I asked if dinner at Xinyue Kiosk  would be a date and a way for you to show your affection and you said yes… You weren’t joking around?”

“I wouldn’t jest about such a thing,” he stated. “Besides, I was talking to Aether about you and he said we were practically dating already. I wasn’t too sure what he meant at first, but apparently it’s not commonplace for roommates to give each other gifts and spend meals together like this.” 

You flushed, having the decency to look sheepish. “Well, I guess he’s right about that. Not that it really matters what’s common or not as long as we both enjoy it,” you said assuredly despite your fluttering heart. You found your hand gravitating towards the small star pendant around your neck. You held it between your thumb and forefinger, finding both comfort and courage in the smooth metal. “Still… I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of dating.”

He smiled when he noticed you holding onto the gift he got for you. “I agree. With you as a partner, the prospect of dating doesn’t sound particularly tedious. Perhaps a nice dinner out would be a good starting point into something more… Official, I believe is the word Aether used?” 

Official. You quite liked the sound of that. “I’d love that. A real, official date sounds nice,” you said with a grin, removing your hands from your necklace only to place it over his, clasping them gently. “Anything to spend more time with you.” 

Zhongli gave you a gentle squeeze back. “It’s a date then. And I’m rather looking forward to it.” 

Fondly, you wondered how your roommate who you once could barely even stand turned into someone so important to you. You went from two objects repelling each other in space, to a binary star system, gravitational bound together. 

“I’m looking forward to it too.”

[cat-induced-fever-dream]

Acquaintances

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Description: Wanda meets someone who doesn’t treat her like a villain, but she doesn’t know who you really are.

Notes: I promise it’s fluff and not a trap. Also sorry about my hiatus, I’m just super unmotivated to do anything. So here’s my feeble offering to try and get back into writing.

- - -

Wanda groaned at the sight of a man with a camera. All she wanted was to pop down to the shops, buy some paprika, but alas, even a shopping trip was gold for the paparazzi. Maybe if she hid behind an aisle he would leave. But she heard the door open behind her. Ducking quickly behind a stack of tuna cans, she scanned the rows for the precious package.

She knew she wasn’t the favourite of the public, and the guilt of what she’d done ate her alive every night, but she was sick of being blamed. All she did was try her best, but this was the kind of thanks she got.

She frowned a little when she saw the man round the corner. She steeled herself, not wanting the tears to spring to her eyes. Turning around to face him, she- There was a person talking to him. You had a shopping bag in your hand, so you must have been another customer. Dressed smartly with a blazer, but paired with jeans and sneakers, you looked friendly, but the cold look you gave the man said otherwise. You exchanged words quietly with the reporter, and he seemed to refuse you, turning back to look at her. Realising that this was the perfect stall to get out of the store, she resumed her search. Cumin, Ginger, Paprika! Quickly glancing back to see how long she had, she saw you hand the man a business card as he hurriedly shuffled away.

“Sorry about that,” you turned to her, looking genuinely apologetic.

“Why?” she asked, it coming out harsher than she meant for it to. “It wasn’t even your fault.”

You shrugged. “You don’t deserve it.”

Wanda frowned again at this. She didn’t even know you, but you helped her out, so the least she could do was be polite. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you smiled. The two of you started to walk towards to counter. More like she did and you kind of happened to as well. “What are you cooking with the paprika?”

Sliding the bag to the cashier, she turned to face you properly. “I was making a traditional Sokovian dish.”

“I’m a big fan of trying different cuisines,” you replied, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “That sounds delicious.”

Wanda’s not really sure why you’re trying to make conversation, but you didn’t seem to have an agenda, so she indulged you with a response as the two of you walked out of the store. “It is, my mum always had the best recipe.”

“Ah well, my parents weren’t around much, so I can’t say the same,” you laughed, throwing your shopping in the back of what must have been your car.

Wanda hadn’t even realised she had walked with you to your car. That was embarrassing. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but I should be going now,” backing away as quickly as she could without making a fool of herself.

“Wait,” you called, “do you need a lift back?”

“You’re a stranger.”

“Well I know your name is Wanda,” you grinned cheekily, opening the passenger door. “And my name is Y/N. Guess we’re not strangers anymore. So, what do you say? It’s the least I could do, with that man bothering you.”

She’s not sure what compelled her to agree, but she found herself sitting in a plush leather seat as you adjusted the rear view mirror. Tapping the dashboard screen, you pulled up a map to Avengers Tower and backed out of the parking lot.

You didn’t seem to mind that she didn’t make conversation, bopping your head gently to whatever pop song was on the radio. Instead she spent the time trying to figure out who you were and why you were being so nice. “It’s rude to stare, you know?” you winked at her.

Wanda felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “Wha- No, sorry,” she mumbled. She’d done it again, made herself look dumb. You giggle, returning your eyes to the road. Trying not to stare at you this time, she observed the fancy watch adorning your wrist, and the sleek interior of the car. You must be a businesswoman of some sort, since this clearly wasn’t your average suburban car. But you were wearing jeans. Maybe a lower level employee than?

She sat there musing, until the door suddenly opened. “We’re here,” you smiled, gesturing at the grand tower that was now her home.

Why couldn’t she stop being so awkward? This was the third time. Unbuckling the seatbelt, she stumbled out, clutching the paprika to her chest. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime, Wanda.” And with a small wave, you hopped back into your car and drove off.

- - -

Heading straight to her room, Wanda abandoned her plans for paprikash. The whole interaction was quite frankly, baffling. No one was ever nice to her, except for the Avengers. But you clearly knew who she was, driving her back to the tower without an address. Tossing her jacket on her bed, she sighed. It’s not like she’d ever see you again. That’s when she noticed the card peeking out from the pocket. There was a phone number printed neatly on it, and a cursive scrawl underneath. “I am actually interested in the dish though. Could I have the name of it?”

She hadn’t exactly interacted with anyone else, so it must’ve been you. Running her thumb over the ink, she was hit with a renewed sense of energy. Grabbing the paprika, she dashed back down the stairs.

- - -

You’re spinning around in your office chair when your phone goes off. Clicking on the message, a small smile makes its way into your face.

Unknown Number: this is the dish i was talking about

Unknown Number: *image*

Unknown Number: it’s paprikash

- - -

“Hey Wanda,” Tony called, a carefully wrapped package in his arms, “this came for you.”

One look at the scarlet wrapping paper, and she knew who it was from. “Thanks Tony,” she said, grabbing it and running to her room.

Setting the package gently on her bed, she untied the ribbon and unfolded the wrapping paper. Nestled in the middle, a box of cookies.

She grinned to herself. Wanda’s been texting you for a couple of months now, and now she could really say that you’re not strangers. She knows that you can’t cook, but you can bake. You’re a businesswoman “of sorts” you say, and that you’re a pretty busy person. But regardless, you hang out with her, chilling in the local coffee shop, going shopping, even just a stroll around the park. She also knows that this happiness she gets when she sees you is definitely not platonic.

Opening the lid, the chocolate aroma wafts into her room. Her favourite of your baked goods. There’s a note tucked into the side of the box, and she delicately pulls it out. “Be my girlfriend?” she read, the handwriting obviously yours. Wait. Be my girlfriend? She sat there dumbly for a couple of seconds before it hit her. You’re asking her to be your girlfriend. Wanda scrambled for her phone, snapping a picture to send to you.

Y/N: those cookies look delicious, who sent them?

The witch rolled eyes at your antics, but played along.

Wanda: idk, but i just got asked out

Y/N: whoaaaa, did you say yes?

Wanda: yes you dumbass

Y/N: okay, under other circumstances that would’ve hurt, but i’m too excited to care right now <3

Wanda: ...

Wanda: did you try to bribe me with cookies?

Y/N: it worked, didn’t it?

Wanda: i can’t believe i actually like you

Y/N: honestly, me too

Y/N: sorry it’s a busy day, but you wanna come over for dinner?

Wanda: sounds good <3

Y/N: i’ll come pick you up, see you then girlfriend

She didn’t want bugs in her room, so Wanda grabbed the box to put in her kitchen cupboard. Balancing a cookie in her mouth, she was about to close the lid, when a hand pinched one. Eyes immediately glowing red, she locked onto Sam as he backed away, half eaten cookie and hands up in surrender.

“Do that again and I will give you nightmares.”

The Falcon whistled lowly. “Okay. Protective over cookies. Got it.”

“There’s cookies?” Bucky asked, strolling in.

“No.”

“Oh okay.”

- - -

The heroes were sprawled on the couches playing a game of UNO when Wanda came down the stairs.

“What are you doing with that hoodie?” Tony asked sharply.

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows. “This.. hoodie?” she replied, tugging on the drawstrings of the soft item of company clothing she was wearing.

“Yes! That’s my enemy’s!”

She didn’t really want to get into whatever nonsense the genius was spouting again. “My friend lent it to me.”

“You have friends?” joked Sam.

Steve gave the man a warning look. “It’s good that you’re adjusting to life here.”

“I think the important question here,” Natasha said from her spot, “is where are you going?”

“Dinner,” she replied, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. She tried to fight the silly smile that crept into her face whenever she thought about you, but she mustn’t have hid it well enough, since the red headed spy gave her a sickeningly sweet smile.

I hate you, she projected.

Nat winked back.

“Based on the way Miss Maximoff keeps anxiously glancing at the door, there is likely to be someone waiting for her,” Vision piped up. “I have searched the Internet databases, and from what I have gathered, your casual outfit means that you are going with someone you are familiar with. The sharing of clothes is usually reserved for close friends or romantic partners only.”

Of course the android had to get involved.

“Your heart rate seems to be speeding up Miss Maximoff. Are you okay?”

“Wanda Maximoff,” Tony asked slowly, “do you have a boyfriend?”

That’s when all hell broke loose.

“Who is he?”

“Is he hot?”

“Where did you meet?”

“How did you even get a boyfriend?”

“Can we meet him?”

“What-“

“Okay,” she groaned. Well it was bound to happen eventually. She just wished she could’ve gotten even a few months without the teasing. “I have a girlfriend, yes she’s hot, yes I’m going to have dinner with her, and I’ll ask about meeting. I’m going to go now.” With that, she stepped into the elevator.

“Don’t think this conversation is over witchy,” called Tony, as the doors slid shut.

- - -

“Hey,” you smiled as she slid into the car. “What took you so long?”

“The Avengers found out.”

You chuckled at that. “What, did they interrogate you or something?”

“Something like that.” She paused. “They want to meet you.”

“Are you sure?”

“They’re my family, and they’ll love you as much as I do.”

“Cute,” you grinned, “but I don’t know about Tony.”

“Trust me, they’re a mess a lot of the time, but they’re good people.”

You checked through your phone. “I haven’t got anything on around lunch tomorrow. I can come by then, how does that sound?”

“So you’ll come?”

“Anything for my girlfriend.”

- - -

Her green eyes locked onto you amongst the bustle of suits in the lobby.

“Hey.”

You adjusted the grey fabric of your pantsuit. “Hey yourself.”

“Did you wear the suit to impress me?” Wanda asked, delicately tugging on your tie.

“Actually, I’ve got a meeting with the investors later. Gotta make an impression, you know?”

“Well consider me impressed,” she whispered against your ear.

Blushing, you allowed Wanda to lead you to the elevator.

- - -

Clint wasn’t sure what to expect with you. But if Wanda liked you, you were sure to be one of the good sorts. So maybe like a cute girl she met at the cafe or something. He sure as hell wasn’t expecting the confident girl dressed in a suit to step out of the elevator.

All of them were lined up in the common room and he’s pretty sure any normal person would have been intimidated by the sheer amount of Avengers in front of them, but you stepped up to them absolutely unfazed.

“Mr Rogers,” you offered your hand to shake, “a pleasure to meet you.”

Steve was expecting to have to take the lead with introductions, but here you seemed to be handling yourself fine. “Likewise.”

“Is Mr Stark here today?” you asked him.

“He’s a bit busy at the mo-“

Clattering and a string of curses interrupted him. And of course, the man himself stepped into the room, Iron Man debris in his wake.

“Tony,” Steve scolded.

“What? Did you think I’d miss meeting the girl who stole the heart of our cold antisocial emo?”

Wanda tossed a couch pillow at him, but he brushed it off.

“Tony Stark,” he declared.

You shook his hand politely. “I know who you are Mr Stark.”

“And you are...?”

“Y/N L/N.”

The genius might have been singed from his armour, but the moment that name fell from your lips, he yanked his hand away, as if he was burned.

“L/N. As in L/N Corporations?”

“That’s me.”

Abruptly he turned to Wanda. “Do you know who this is?” he hissed. “The greatest rival to Stark Industries. I thought you were introducing your girlfriend.”

You gave him a winning smile. “I am her girlfriend Mr Stark. And you may have made me your rival, but I can assure you that you are not mine.”

Sam snorted.

“What are you doing here then? Are you here to try and steal data? You can’t...”

You paid him no mind as you winked at Sam. Spotting the metal arm, your eyes widened. “You must be Bucky, right? Princess Shuri told me she’d been working on some vibranium projects. I’d love to take a closer look some other day if you don’t mind?”

“How do you know Shuri?” Stark spluttered.

“You think that she only talks to rich boys who need her help? Sorry to burst your bubble.”

Nat couldn’t help but smirk at this.

“Oh and I’ve actually been working on some prototype Widow Bites as a bit of a free time project,” you added. “If you’re interested, your opinion on usage would really help me to refine them.”

“Of course.”

“Traitor,” Tony glared.

It’s at this point your phone began to ring. Glancing down, you offered a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve really got to take this.” You turned to face the wall as your friendly tone turned professional.

The Avengers huddled together as your call went on.

“Is she using you for information?” Tony scowled.

Wanda scowled back. “She’s my girlfriend Stark. Not everything is about you.”

He looked as if he was going to say more, but Steve interrupted.

“Look Tony, she seemed like a perfectly lovely girl.”

“Yeah I like her,” added Sam. “She can keep your ego in check.”

“If Wanda likes her, I’m fine with it too.” Clint said.

Wanda gave him a thankful look.

A cough came awkwardly behind them.

“I really hate to cut this short everyone, but something’s come up back at the office. Investors are a pain.”

“Yeah go on back to your investors then,” spat Tony.

“Wow” you drawled, heading back to the elevator, “is the rich card the only thing you can play Stark?”

The light on the wall indicated that the cab had arrived, and you stepped inside the carriage which would take you back down, as Peter stepped out.

“Oh hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I was just leaving Pete, but swing by later, alright?”

“You know it.”

“Oh and I heard you liked the hoodie I gave Wanda, Mr Stark,” you called. “I can grab you one as well, since it’s my company. But I really do gotta run now. Nice to meet you all!” The metal doors slid shut on your grinning face.

There was a silence, before Tony turned on his protégée. “How the hell are you on a first name business with her?”

“We’re friends?” Peter offered.

“Friends?”

“She went to college with me. She was super smart and we hung out and stuff. You know, what friends usually do.”

Squirming under his mentor’s gaze, he continued. “She was too smart for college though, so she dropped out and started her company. It didn’t mean we stopped being friends though.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Underoos?”

“She figured you might overreact, especially with the web sho-“ The boy’s eyes widened, and he made a mad dash for the stairs.

But Tony grabbed his wrist. “What were you saying?”

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “She helped me out with my web shooters in college, and since then, she’s been developing them with me.”

“What?”

“She knows I’m Spider-Man and I work with her on my tech,” he said slowly.

The man surveyed his teammates, making deliberate eye contact with each and every one of them. “Traitors, the lot of you,” he huffed.

“I mean you gotta admit it,” laughed Sam. “She’s college age, and built an empire to rival you. Not to mention that she’s pretty, smart, has better PR and actual time management skills-“

“Okay I get it,” the genius cut him off.

“Don’t be upset,” Clint smirked, “you can’t lose if you’re not her competition.”

Tony stomped off.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll come around,” Steve said gently, nodding at Wanda who was fiddling anxiously with her rings.

“She was cool,” added Nat. “Tony can be a pain in the ass, but he knows she’s a good person.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

<3: i’d say that went pretty well

Wanda: cannot believe you didn’t tell me

<3: i’m really sorry babe, please don’t hate me

Wanda: i could never

<3: just didn’t want him to stop you from fraternising with the enemy or whatever

Wanda: i’d break the rules for you any day

<3: how romantic

<3: so miss rebel, you coming over tonight?

Wanda: depends if you’re still wearing the suit

<3: anything for you ;)

[kimnjss]

only you | jjk

⤑  series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: some angst :/... nd fluff!! (implied smut)

⤑ rating: explicit 

⤑ word count: 3.3K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: slight dry humping, groping, neck kissing, a lot of inner monologuing, yn turns her emotions on nd off (lowkey scary), there are some tears, jungkook shows up w a ponytail nd glasses (what the actual fuckkk), 

⤑ A/N: uhm!? i think there’s like one more chapter left ., hello??? this was wicked fast i didn’t expect it but yeah . pretty sure there’s one more after this one guys??? 

JUNE 15TH, 2020 | 23:43

Fighting Jimin. That's the only solution you can come up with for the way he's been acting the past few days. You had to fight him. Not only did he post, and tag!, you in an image of you and Jungkook... from a happier time, he has been 'accidentally' sending you alike pictures and even gone as far as to ask you to find a picture of the two of you for him to post.

What was his problem? It was like he was ignoring the fact that the two of you were on the rocks? All for what? To further this brand new interest in photography that really didn't have to include either you or Jungkook? 

It was annoying. The constant reminder of the good thing that you had, which was always directly followed by the worry of whether or not the two of you would be able to get back to the way you were. Of course, you wanted to be with Jungkook. You... had really strong feelings for him, but at the same time, you weren't sure if the Jungkook you fell for even existed.

What if it was all an act?

It didn't feel like one. Jungkook always seemed so genuine, so pure whenever he was with you. He took his time getting to know you, it really felt like he was himself around you. And he really has no given you any reason to doubt your relationship before, so why now? 

He explained himself, has given you the space that you asked for... so were you just being stubborn? Overreacting? Or reacting just the right amount? You couldn't tell, but the more you thought about it the stronger the urge to just go and see him grew. And Jimin's daily semi-hourly messages for couple shots of the two of you were not helping.

Now it seemed like every little thing reminded you of him. Had been doing such a great job at removing him from your thoughts, but with each scroll through your camera roll, you're hit with another memory and then swarmed with the countless memories you made in your own home.

You contemplated selling the place but ruled that as crazy. Maybe you'd just rent it out? Something. Anything so that everywhere you turn, you wouldn't be bombarded with all things Jungkook. The couch where the two of you spent nights cuddled up, kitchen where he'd cook for you, bedroom where you...

It was all becoming too much, a little bit overwhelming at times too. But bearable if you concentrated hard enough. You weren't really breaking until late one night. No text from Jimin, but you still found yourself scrolling through your camera roll. Smiling at a picture the two of you had taken.

Just of your fingers intertwined over the middle console of his car, nothing major but you find yourself missing how well his fingers fit in yours. The simple way you'd trace the tattoos printed on his knuckles. They were always so warm in yours and he never minded how cold you always were. Took it upon himself to warm you up. Oh! And the way he'd mindlessly reach for your hands whenever you were laying together, toying with them as he rambled about God knows what.

You missed him. So much, it hurt. All you wanted was to be near him, fuck everything else. Why did everything else have to be so complicated? Why did you have to ever find out about that stupid bet? Things were so much better when you had no idea what he and his ex-friends talked about. He'd still be in your arms right now, playing with your fingers if it wasn't for that.

Before you even have the chance to stop yourself, fresh tears are rolling down your cheeks. A sob breaking through your throat as salty droplets land on the screen of your phone. For the first time, in a very long time, you feel lonely. And the only person that you want to be with is Jungkook. Positive if you were in a room full of people and he wasn't there, this lonely feeling wouldn't go away.

You needed to call him. Hear his voice, his laugh, anything. You needed him.

The phone only rings once before he's picking up, sounding out of breath as if he had been working out. Little did you know, Jungkook had been waiting weeks for your call. Ready to run the moment your familiar ringtone was blaring through his phone speakers. His voice is breathy, but it still makes your heart skip a beat. “Hello?”

“Jungkook,” As soon as his name is leaving your lips, you're realizing how much you've missed saying it. And that thought alone has you crying harder. “Jungkook...” You repeat with a heavy sigh, head falling in your hand as you try to wipe the tears that just won't stop coming.

He shushes you on the other line, the sound of your cries has a crumbling feeling taking over his chest. He hated that he's the reason you sound like that, that he's the one that hurt you. All he wants to do is hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay, but he wasn't sure if that would be the truth.

There was only one thing that he could tell you that he was sure of. So he's apologizing, over and over again. For what he did, for what he didn't do, for making you cry. The pained sound of his voice only has your sobs growing louder, because he's hurting too. None of this made sense, you wanted to be together. So why not just be together?

“C-can you come over... please?”

He's nearly rushing for the front door at the quiet sound of your voice. Had hoped to hear you say that, wanted nothing more than to be with you right now. Even if it was only for a little while. He missed you, all he wanted was to see you. Three weeks was too long for him to spend away from you.

Then again, this wasn't about him. “Are you sure?”

“No. I feel like I'm all broken up. And it's your fault... but only you can make me feel better. I know that.” You're huffing, obviously frustrated with yourself. Ruffling is heard from your end of the phone and he can only imagine you're roughly wiping at your face. One final sniffle sounding, followed by a sharp clear of your throat. Mentally deciding that that was enough. No more crying.

He can almost feel the wall going back up, shielding him from the emotions you had let slip. Locking them back up where they couldn't make you look weak. He can even hear the difference in your tone now as if you hadn't just been crying to him two seconds ago.

“Yeah, come over.”

JUNE 16TH, 2020 | 00:27

Jungkook shows up at your front door almost immediately. Did not need to be told twice, he was on his way as soon as the words were leaving your mouth. Handsome, like he always is. 

Long hair pulled out of his face, you had said it was cute once so he figured he'd try to appeal to you. His white long sleeve is clean, baggy gray sweats hanging low on his hips. He looks like your Jungkook. Despite the weeks you spent apart, he still looks the same. So inviting, you wanted to be in his arms.

A pair of glasses rest on the tip of his nose and through them, you can see the slight red of his pretty brown eyes, the puffiness that surrounds them. Jimin had mentioned a few times before how much he's cried in the past few weeks, you never thought it would be this obvious though. It makes your heart hurt.

He's closing the door behind him after you let him in, kicking his shoes off in the threshold and then staring at you. Neither of you sure what to do next, what to say. It's the first time that you feel awkward around each other and it kills you. Nothing was ever awkward with Jungkook, he was always so eager and obvious.

But now, it was like he didn't even know where to look.

“You can go sit down,” You say after a while of just standing there, silently competing to see who can avoid eye contact the longest. 

It's weird, normally he'd be kicking off his shoes and heading straight to the couch. Demanding that you sit too so he can put his head on your lap. Much different from the careful steps that he takes across the living room as if he's never been there before. He's sitting with his head bowed, hands clasped in front of him.

And you almost expect him to mumble out a: 'Nice place you got here,'. He doesn't. What he does do has you almost convinced that things aren't so bad between the two of you now. In the shyest, sweetest Jungkook voice, he's saying, “Come sit with me too,” It's quieter than you're used too, but still holds a certain familiarity to it that you can't mask your smile.

There's a lot you need to get off your chest, but you have no idea where to start. You don't have it in you to be mad at him anymore, it had you feeling heavy all this time and you just wanted to let it go. You just wanted to be with him, but you knew that in order for that to happen properly... the two of you needed to talk.

“You told me you loved me.” His words have been like a skipping record since he was rushing them out. Despite the undesirable nature, he was telling you, he had still told you and it hasn't left your mind since.

Jungkook's eyes are going wide, cheeks turning pink, caught off guard with the way you're able to just blurt it out. He had said it and meant it, never thought about taking it back. But wished he had done it differently. At the moment, he was panicked, worried that he was losing you so it came out.

If he had the chance to do it again, he'd come up with a speech, something that let you know how much you mean to him, how lucky he thought he was to get to be with you... and then he'd say it. Not in the midst of an argument as an attempt to get you to stay with him. That was fucked on his part, though.

And there was nothing he could do about it, the cat was already out of the bag. “Yes. I said that. And I meant it.” He's not sure where you're going with this conversation if you're preparing him for the clean break of your relationship or whatever, but he urges himself to be patient. You're the one in charge because he had hurt you.

This was your call.

“I know you have changed, Jungkook. You're so much different from when I first met you. I can see that. I just... the bet made me doubt whether or not the changes I saw were genuine. I didn't know what to believe, but now.” Weeks upon weeks, you spent thinking about this. Weighing your options, thinking, and rethinking the situation. You wanted to be right.

You wanted this to be right. “Now, I want to believe you, Jungkook. How you were when you were with me... I don't think someone can fake that. I kinda knew you loved me before you said it, you know? I could feel it or whatever. I don't think something like that could be all for pretend,” You're not even looking at him, but you can feel the way hope lifts his body.

He's all but jumping at the chance to assure you. “It wasn't pretend, I swear. Every last thing between us was all real. I fell in love with you, Yn. I love you.” He's reaching for your hands, lacing your fingers together. His are warm against yours and the warmth is quickly spreading throughout your entire body.

Warming your cheeks and coaxing fresh tears to pool at the brim of your eyes. “I love you too,” If you had held it in a second longer, you're positive you would've puked. Something like that needed to be said out loud. And from the way his face lights up from your slightly teary confession, it's worth it.

Jungkook moves before he can stop himself, leaning forward to cover your lips with his. It's a soft, quick kiss that doesn't last long before he's realizing what he's doing. Quick to pull away, that light pink dusting over his cheeks as he mumbles out an apology.

“It's okay. Just, uhm, one more thing.” He's leaning back to give you some space you don't exactly favor. Fingers pushing through his hair as he nods, teeth and tongue working over his lip. “Of course. What is it?”

He looks ready to fix any issue you might have with being him and you don't doubt that he'd work himself making sure that everything was all right. That's the thing, though. There weren't any real problems being with him, Jungkook was a good guy. You knew that and he showed you time and time again, just in case you forgot.

Being overwhelmed in the moment had you losing sight of that, doubting him in ways that he never gave you a reason to. He was always good to you, since the beginning. And that was something you found a little hard to understand. “Why me? I mean, it's no secret you've had a plethora of girls knocking on your door. So how come you chose me to fall in love with?” A tiny insecure thought that popped in your head from time to time, but a lot more in the past few weeks.

What made you so different?

The sound of his laugh is the last thing you expect to hear. His pretty smile rests on his lips as the sweet sound dies down, eyes shining as he looks at you. “I didn't choose you, baby. I got lucky and you chose me. And I have zero complaints. I don't know if you know this, Yn. But you have really high standards. You make me want to be better for you.” He's confident this time when he reaches for you, hands settling on your hips as he tugs you toward him.

A natural position between the two of you, sat up with your legs draped over his hips his stretched out behind you. Crazy how perfectly you fit in his arms. “No one has made me feel the way you have. Only you.” You're embarrassed with how dramatic your heart is for this man.

Fingers brush hair from your face as he leans closer to you, nose just barely brushing against yours. “Does that answer your question?” Using that deep voice of his that you only recently discovered. Eyes lifting to look at you through his long lashes, your entire body heats up from the look alone.

“Yes, it does.”

The corners of his lips lift into a smile, fingers tracing the side of your face to tip your chin up toward his. Gaze dropping to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Can I kiss you now?” There's something about him asking that makes you want it more.

Paired with the patient way he sits awaiting your answer, holding you close but still giving you space. Subtle things that he did to make sure you were comfortable, make sure that he was never pushing too much. Jungkook was constantly proving to you that you could trust him, without a word.

And you do, trust him. With everything you do. So you don't even have to think twice about nodding your head, welcoming his lips onto yours. His fingers tangling in your hair to hold your head in place as his mouth moves over yours. Kissing you the way that he's dreamt of after all this time.

He's missed you. Being apart from you was something that he never wanted to do again and he was going to make sure that neither of you would have to experience that again. His warm tongue glides over your lower lip and you're sure he's going to push his way through.

But he doesn't, instead, he's dragging his teeth over your skin, dragging your lip back as you pull away. It's hot. The feeling of his teeth pressed into your skin, the look on his face as he does it. You can't help the soft moan that falls from your lips. A sound that goes straight to his pants.

“Tell me that thing again, you know? About how you feel about me...” There's a hint of blush on his cheeks. It makes you feel warm all over. Lifting your arms, you wrap them around his neck, scooting a bit lower on his lap. Hips pressed against his.

You think about teasing him, acting as if you have no idea what he's talking about. One look at the slightly nervous look on his face is stealing all of that way. As if you wouldn't say it again like the first time had been a fluke. Yeah, right.

Lips molded against his, you place a sweet kiss on them. Smiling brightly as you pull away, lifting your gaze to look him right in the eye. He needed to know that you meant business when you said what was coming next. “I love you, Jungkook. Only you.” He's kissing you again before the words can fully leave your lips, hand pressed firmly on your back as he holds you to him.

The slow lift of his hips, dragging a moan from you. “I just told you I love you. Why are you hard?” Your giggle vibrates against his lips. Jungkook does nothing to pull back, lips still sealed together as he murmurs.

“It's a love boner,” He groans softly, rolling his hips up. Using the grip he holds in your hair to tilt your head back, trailing his lips down toward your jawline. Sucking wet kisses into your skin, creating a path toward your collarbones.

Your laughter is interrupted by a moan, your own hips moving at their own accord into his. His cock dragging against your core through the fabric of your clothes, but you can still feel him as if you were bare. His freehand is traveling down your back to grip your ass, encouraging the movement of your hips.

Gruff grunts leave his lips from the friction and it takes everything in you to concentrate on your words. “S-shut up, those aren't real. All you think about is sex,” Ignoring the moans that lace your words and the insistent roll of your hips. He's the focus subject here.

Jungkook is shaking his head quickly, pulling back to get a good look at your face. Already flushed and he was just getting started. “Correction. All I think about is you. How my body reacts is not my fault,” You laugh to hide your blush, hand reaching out to shove at his shoulder.

“You're an idiot,” You're mumbling out, which he assumes is code for some term of endearment in your head. He'll take it, leaning down to press yet another soft kiss to your lips.

There was no way he'd grow tired of the feeling he got from kissing you. “And I love you. And you love me too. So let's make love,” It's corny, so you have no idea why your heart is screaming, fighting against your rib cage to get to him. But you've learned to not have everything figured out when it came to Jungkook. Things were the way they were and you liked them exactly that way.

You loved it.

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

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[oneoftheprettynerds]

So We Meet Again: Dark! Stucky x Reader

Requested: Yes, based on a prompt by @heavenlyseb

A/N: I was halfway done with LACs next chapter but the inspiration died Idk why so I thought I’d invest the creative energy somewhere else and then try my hand at that again. Thank you to you for dropping this request in my ask box, @heavenlyseb​. 

WARNINGS: Non-con, Mental breakdown, spiking a drink.

Summary: Reader tries to escape her past but it’s harder when your past includes dangerous men.

Word Count: 1.3 K {so drabble I think}

The entire day something had felt wrong. Maybe it was the universe’s way of sending you a message, foreshadowing misfortune in ways it knew. 

For the first time ever you had messed up breakfast, spilling the coffee and burning the toasts. Then you had forgotten some very important papers at home that Steve thankfully had a soft copy of on his laptop. After you left office earlier than him like you always did to go home and cook, you had your car die on you and leave you stranded. This series of unfortunate events didn’t end there; unfortunately, it followed you home. 

The streak continued with the laundry getting messed up, all whites turning pink and colored fabrics getting bleached. You fingers got stuck in a drawer, yours toes also getting stubbed. Nevertheless the day wasn’t even close to beating the worst day of your life; more like the worst few months of your otherwise simple life.

A shudder ran through you as the thoughts and memories you had buried so deep surfaced again. With one uncurbed thought that gave rise to the unpleasant memory train, you were back in that posh glass office again.

 It was New Years Eve. The decorations were still hung up around the large rooftop arena, from Christmas a few days ago. The bars had the strongest alcoholic drinks wearing pretty shades of blue and orange. There were plants draped in ornaments, a lot of them. You remembered chuckling about how the potted plants were a show of wealthy people, all affluent people pretending to have a green thumb or care for the Earth.

You greeted the people you knew and joked about resolutions. You remember hanging out with the only actual friend you had there, the receptionist Lucy. Anyone else you talked to at the company was merely a coworker, some of them plotting your downfall even. But Lucy was genuine, and so your only friend.

Said friend however, did abandon you few minutes prior to midnight with poor, half a hearted apologies, running in preparation for her midnight kiss. You giggled and honestly, weren’t even offended, just amused by her antics.

You planned on sulking in the corner with the other singles who weren’t ready to mingle and saying goodbye as soon as the clock hit twelve. That plan failed when your handsome hunk of a boss, whom you had seen only a handful of times and encountered for even fewer, brought you a drink and asked for a few minutes of your time.

You don’t know what made you go then, nor do you have any better take on the situation even now but the gist of it all was that you did oblige. It could have been the alcohol coursing through your veins, the encouragement by others’ jealous stares and Lucy’s wink or even the slight crush you had on the man with the cerulean eyes.      

However, going to his office and him fucking you on that sandalwood desk wasn’t your choice.

You remember him kissing you at the midnight stroke, a kiss sizzling with passion and yearning. When you both pulled away, you felt flushed and giddy but the carnal desire in his eyes after just one kiss alarmed you. Still, you offered to exchange numbers for a follow up, he was your boss after all but your dazed mind could not even remember your own number.

Your mind began to lose consciousness as you sweated and your skin heated, head and folds burning alike. You slipped in and out of articulacy, fragments of memory in your mind.

You shook your head as you realized you were shaking, keeping the knife down on the board and halting the slicing of tomatoes. You wiped your tears as you chided yourself for almost getting into another accident, a fatal one even, zoning out like that with a sharp knife.

The sound of the door opening and closing made you calm, Steve was home now. You hadn’t told him everything about your past yet, just bits and pieces, but you had never felt unsafe with him. He was nothing short of a gentleman, courted you properly and even waited months when you weren’t initially ready.

He let you progress the relationship on your terms, his support always there whether it was the question of spending a night together or moving in. His arms were where you felt the safest, his strength a promise of protection. 

A second set of footsteps made you furry your eyebrows, Steve didn’t inform you of company tonight. You pushed your anguish aside, putting on a facade for his guest as you got back to chopping. 

“Honey, I’m home.” Steve’s holler made you easy, his presence itself was comforting.  

“I’m in the kitchen.” You sung back, the nickname making you smile. 

“I brought a guest for dinner, hope you don’t mind.” He called out from the living room, the slight thud of furniture telling you they sat there.

You checked the broth, dinner for three would take time, even more so as your bad luck kept you on your toes today. Switching off the stove you sighed and made you way to the living room.

You planned to ask Steve to order and simultaneously greet his guest but ice froze in your veins when you entered the square doorway. Your planned again and at this point, one would think they had a knack for unsuccessful plans.

You could never forget the broad shoulders, the silky brunette locks and the sapphire blue eyes of James Buchanan Barnes, the handsome devil that haunted your existence.

You remembered waking up to your senses getting slaughtered. The drag of a cock in your hole as you clenched as tightly as a boxer’s fist. The squelching noises, the breathy moans and the sound of skin slapping skin. It took all you had in you to open your eyes every time you slipped out of consciousness.

You remembered being taken on every surface in his large office, against the glass panels looking onto the city below, on his velvet sofa, even his private elevator.  

Barnes had whispered sweet nothings in your ears that night and every night after like he was your lover, not your assaulter. How he cornered you with the obscene footage the night after when you threatened to press charges. You both knew then that you had no hope, no chance of winning against him and would have no dignity either if released some footage with some faces blurred.

He used and abused you and his power, until the day you finally gathered your guts and went far way, a new place, new start. 

You believed you didn’t leave a trail behind but then how was the devil himself greeting you in your own home? 

Your whole body shook like it did minutes earlier and you found Steve gently cradling your face. You flinched at his touch, skidding away, “Get this man out of here, Steve!” If looks could kill, the brunette would have dropped dead.

James Barnes had the audacity to smirk as you brushed a hand through his hair, ever so confident and smug, your shaken form amusing him.

Steve hung his hand around your shoulder and wiped a tear that had escaped. His arms were your haven and such you had believed until a moment later, “That’s no way to greet Bucky, sweetheart.” 

Your head whipped at light’s speed as you looked in horror at Steve, the hold on your shoulders tightening and keeping you alongside him.

“He was kind enough to give you months to adjust but now he misses you more than he can endure.”

  “Steve, you don’t know what your bastard of a frien-” You started hoping it was a misunderstanding on your part.

At the curse, Steve’s grip became bruising as he cut you off, “Trust me sweetheart, I know. Bucky and I don’t have secrets.” 

[milkyymoons]

Honey Tea | 01 Yandere!Jungkook

pairing: yandere!jungkook x reader (f)

genre: yandere, angst, mentions of mental health, future smut, manipulation, 

Parts: 01 | 02.

summary: You're delighted to find the perfect caregiver for your ill grandmother but are soon to find out his intentions are far from pure.

Your eyes were glued on the clock that hung on the brown tinted wall, nervously biting your lip. You really hadn’t liked the idea of having to even hire a caregiver for your grandmother to begin with but you weren’t left with much of a choice. Finding a job was hard to begin with, not only due to the fact that living in such a small town made the options limited but your lack of job experience didn’t make it any easier. Your anxiety disorder had only gotten worse over the years, interfering with your daily activities and made things such as simple trips to the grocery store a living nightmare.

However,  you couldn’t let your anxiety control your life any longer. You knew it was finally time to take some actual responsibility and do what was best for your grandmother. She had taken care of you and raised you all your life up until now, she was tired and  her heart condition wasn’t going to get any better. It was up to you to take care of her now, she was all you had left.

While your grandmother was decently well off and had insisted you didn’t need to get a job, you had refused. Medical expenses were not getting any cheaper and while the job you managed to land at the old bookstore down the street wasn’t much, it would surely help some bit. Besides, you were hoping it would help better your anxiety, being stuck inside the house all day surely wasn’t helping your intrusive thoughts.

Now the only issue was having to leave your grandmother home alone for so long, she had insisted she would be fine but you knew better. At her age, the amount of things that could go wrong would just race through your head nonstop.

The sudden knock on the door made you jump, you lifted  yourself off the soft leather coach and rushed down the small hallway of your home. You took a deep breath, not even bothering to check the peep hole in your rushed state and swung the door open, the chilly air instantly hit your face.

The guy in front of you looked exactly like his profile on the caregiver website, his tall frame towered over you and his large dark eyes quickly took you in. His dark hair falling below his ears and he gave you a friendly smile. He wasn’t much older than you according to his age on the website but his face held a childlike look to it, his handsome features were even more intimidating in person.

“Hello, you’re Y/n right?” He questioned, his voice smooth. The way his eyes scanned over your face almost made you want to hide.

“U-uh, yeah. You’re Jungkook right?” You asked, cringing at how awkward you sounded already. He nodded and you stepped aside, signaling him to come in.

“Sorry, my grandma is still sleeping, she should be waking up any minute.” You explained as you walked down hallway and he followed closely behind you. You guided him to the kitchen, offering him to take a seat at the table which he gladly accepted. You suddenly felt anxious all over again with his gaze on you.

“That’s okay, I’ll giver her the medications when she wakes up.” He smiled at you and his eyes darted around the kitchen, seeming to take everything in.

“Right, I left them on the counter for you and I texted you the details in case you forget. She takes her blood pressure and heart medication first thing every morning , her stomach is a bit sensitive so I’d prefer she ate something before she takes the-“ You rambled, pacing around the kitchen.

“Y/n” Jungkook cuts you off, his tone gentle. “Don’t worry, I know what to do. I’ll make sure to make her some breakfast.”  

You nodded your head in embarrassment but his words brought you comfort. You knew you were worrying over nothing , he had some of the best reviews on the website and obviously seemed to know how to care of elderly people way more than you ever would.

“Sorry, I’ve just never left her alone with anyone.” You admitted, sitting down on the empty the seat right across from him.

“I see, is she your only family?” He asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Yeah, my parents died in a car accident when I was little so my grandma practically raised me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He gave you a pitying look and reached over to take your hand in his. You were a bit taken aback by the sudden action but he didn’t look phased in the slightest.

“You seem like a caring girl, many young people like you wouldn’t think twice in sending off their grandparents to a retirement home.” He said, his eyes boring into yours. He seemed genuinely in awe.

“I could never, she’s all I have.” You didn’t even want to imagine a world without your grandmother , despite knowing the reality of her old age and health conditions. Not to mention, the idea of sending her off to one of those facilities just seemed cruel to you, you didn’t have the heart to even consider it.

Jungkook watched you, you were indeed more beautiful in person. The blurry profile picture in the website didn’t even come close to doing you justice. He could tell how much you cared about your grandmother, it was obvious even through the messages you had sent him when you first selected him for the job. He could tell you were an anxious person just by looking at you. The way you had seemed like a deer caught in headlights when you first opened the door, your smaller frame cowering behind it. It was obvious even in the way you sat now, your leg bouncing beneath the table and your eyes refusing to make direct eye contact with him ever since he had arrived.

He found it all endearing.

“I-I better get going! It’s my first day and I don’t want to be late.” You said, suddenly remembering what time it was, the last thing you needed was to make a horrible first impression the first day at your job.

“First day? No wonder you seemed so nervous.” Jungkook teased, his hand slipping from yours as you got up.

“Yeah, well more like first ever real job so it’s even worse.” You let out a small shaky laugh, walking over to grab your bag from the counter.

“It’s your first job? How exciting.” He beamed, eyes seeming to follow your every action.

“Well, it’s a bookstore so probably not that exciting.” You mumbled as you tugged at the ends of your dress anxiously. Jungkook lips quirked up at your scattered movements, not ignoring the way the dress hugged your curves.

“Please make sure to text me if you need anything. The fridge is full and my grandma usually likes oatmeal in the morning, feel free to help yourself when you get hungry too!” You said, pointing towards different areas in the kitchen.

“ The bathroom is down the hall too and oh! I completely forgot to give you a tour of the house!” You groaned , realizing your dumb mistake. You had not even properly told the guy how to direct himself throughout the house.

Jungkook chuckled , standing back up and he making his way past you.

“Relax, I’ll be fine. The  house isn’t that big, I can find my way around it.” He assured you, observing your grandmothers medication bottles that sat on the counter.

You nodded and starting making your way out the kitchen.

“Y/n.” Jungkook called and you halted, turning back to face him. He gave you a warm smile, eyes trailing over your exposed shoulders that the thin straps of your sundress failed to hide. “ It’s quite chilly outside, you should wear a jacket .”

“Oh, right. Thank you!” His comment only confirmed how fitting he seemed for the job of a caregiver, you found it cute. You quickly grabbed the cardigan laying on the couch on your way out and rushed outside.

—-

To your surprise, the first day at your new job had gone quite smoothly. It wasn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as you had thought but it mainly had to do with you not having to interact with anyone much. You had spent your day stacking and reorganizing books, you were glad your boss hadn’t put you as the cashier. The old man insisted for you to stay in the back, probably noticing how anxious you had seemed in the job interview and not wanting to risk you embarrassing yourself with customers. You were grateful for that in a way, if your job continued like this then you were sure you could do it.

“Grandma?” You called out as you stepped inside the house, your shoes padding against the wooden floors. You let your bag drop on the ground as you walked down the hallway. You heard faint laughter near you, seeming to come from the living room. You turned and saw your grandma seated on her rocking chair, happily chatting with Jungkook who was seated on the coach beside her.

“Y/n! You’re home, my dear. “ Your grandmother gushed when she saw you, a smile forming on her wrinkled face. You walked over to her, giving her a tight hug.

“You didn’t tell me such a handsome young man was going to be the one to wake me up this morning.” Your grandmother stated and your face heated up at her words.

“Grandma!”

Jungkook chuckled, his smile reminded you of a bunny in a way.

“I’m assuming things went well?” You asked, face still hot.

“Perfect, your grandmother is a joy to be around.” Jungkook confirmed, glancing at your grandmother. “ I think she’s the easiest person I’ve had to look after.”

You sighed in relief, overjoyed that there hadn’t been any issues and everything seemed perfectly fine.

“Jungkook made some delicious oatmeal, I didn’t know these caregivers were such good cooks. “ Your grandmother added and you giggled.

“I gave her all her medications and she should be good to go to bed soon.” Jungkook said, standing up .

“How was your first day at work, my dear?” Your grandmother asked and you felt Jungkook’s heavy gaze on you.

“Good , I think. I mean it was better than I expected.“

“You know you don’t have to force yourself too much.” Your grandmother insisted, worry lacing her tone but you shook your head.

“I promise I’m not.”

“Your grandmother said you are a bit of anxious person?” Jungkook mentioned, tilting his head in a questioning manner.

You glanced at your grandma, wondering how much exactly she had told Jungkook.

“I told him how much you struggle with your anxiety and socializing with people. “ She sighed, resting her hands on her lap. “ You know how much I worried about you getting a job. I want you to put your health first.”

“Grandma, I’m fine. This job is helping me.” You insisted, not being able to help the annoyance in your tone. You felt a bit awkward now that Jungkook knew about your mental health conditions. It seemed too invasive.

“Your grandma is just trying to look after you, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Jungkook’s tone was sincere as he stared down at you, noticing the change in mood you took.

He wondered how you would react to him knowing much more than just the surfaced level information your grandmother had provided for him. It wasn’t hard to get her to talk about you, it was all she ever did seem to talk about and Jungkook couldn’t be happier at that. It made it easier to get to know you despite him not being able to be near you all day. Your grandmother served as an immediate resource. Although, not much of what she had said was surprising, he had figured the type of person you were at first glance, her words only serving as confirmation.

—

As weeks passed , Jungkook became more and more involved in your home life and his presence became so familiar to you, almost as if he had always been part of you and your grandmother’s life. He was here everyday first thing in the morning until late in the afternoon, sometimes even staying for dinner. Even on the weekdays, he managed to stop by for a bit and check up on your grandmother. You couldn’t believe it at first, that you managed to find such a perfect caregiver.

“Y/n!” Jungkook called out from the kitchen as you adjusted the scarf around your neck.

“One sec!” You said, rushing out and making your way towards the kitchen, you were met by a plate of stacked pancakes, scrambled eggs and chopped up fruit on the table.

“Don’t forget to eat before you leave.“ Jungkook stated, fussing over you to take a seat. It had become a habit of his to serve you breakfast each day before you left to work, insisting that it was bad for your health to leave on an empty stomach.

“You really don’t have to do this, Jungkook. You already do so much for my grandma.” You smiled, hesitantly taking a seat and taking a bite out of the delicious pancakes. Your grandmother really wasn’t lying when she said he was an amazing cook.

“Of course I do, besides I have extra time before your grandmother wakes up. “ He pushed a glass of orange juice towards you that you happily accepted.

“You seem a bit sickly lately, are you getting enough sleep? “ Jungkook questioned as he took a seat beside you. You had been more tired than usual lately but you figured it was because of your job. Although it wasn’t that physically demanding, you were sure it was your body getting accustomed to not sitting at home all day for once.

“Probably just tired from work.” You replied as you took another sip of your orange juice. Jungkook eyed you, taking in how shaky your hands seemed as you tilted the glass over your lips.

He didn’t like you working. He didn’t like seeing you do any type of labor, no matter how small. You should be treated like a princess, with so much care and not having to lift a finger for anything. He didn’t like the fact that you were away for such long hours, not knowing what type of trouble you were in or what you were up to. Fortunately, that would come to an end soon.

“I’d prefer if you actually finished your food this time. “ He said, his tone a bit more firm this time. You almost giggled at his serious expression.

“You take this caregiving job really seriously.” You commented as took another bite of the food. “ I’m sure my grandmother feels spoiled.”

“Hm, I’m sure she does. I try my best to.” Jungkook hoped you were the one that felt spoiled. He took great pleasure in seeing you happy, making sure he had all your needs met. He had took time finding out what your favorite foods, shows, and hobbies were. Anything related to you, he had become obsessed with knowing.

“I need to pick up my grandma’s prescriptions today so I may be home a bit later.” You added in between chews.

“No need, I picked them up already before coming here.” Jungkook smirked, and you sighed.

“You really were born for this job.” You mumble.

—

Jungkook sat on his bed, his eyes glued to his phone screen. The tiny camera he had hidden inside your room was at a perfectly angle from your bed. Placed inside one of the eye sockets of your many stuffed animals, he had found your collection of them cute. He watched as you emerged from your bathroom, eyes following the tightly wrapped towel around your body. Your skin still damp from the shower as you reached over your dresser for the lotion bottle. He swallowed heavily as he watched your towel drop on the floor, exposing your bare body. His eyes hungrily took in every curve, from your breasts down to your core.

You were ethereal, no matter how much he had tried to handle his needs by fucking other women , he was never satisfied. They weren’t you, and they would never would be. He almost felt as if he was betraying every time he had went to bed with another women. He was disgusted with himself for even giving in, promising himself he would never seek the pleasure of another women. You were his only muse, the only person he wanted. You were going to be together forever.

He watched as you spread lotion over your legs, massaging them. The tightening in his pants only worsened and despite how much he tried to control himself, he let his hand tug his pants down and closed his eyes.

—

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her, she’s been sleeping a lot lately. “ You chewed on your bottom lip worriedly.

Your grandmother had been more lethargic than usual, you knew her old age made her sleep a lot most days but still, her sudden change in behavior was odd to you. Your grandmother was usually a chatty old lady and now she barely had the energy to hold a full conversation with you.

Jungkook listened intently, having his back turned to you as he prepared you some tea. He lifted the kettle and poured  the hot water over the tea bag, adding a bit of extra honey knowing you had a sweet tooth. He didn’t want you this anxious all night.

Especially not tonight.

“ You have to understand your grandmother is at a very delicate age now,” He began to explain. “ She’s tired and doesn’t have much energy for anything.”

You knew what he was implying but you didn’t want to accept it. You shook your head at just the mere thought.

“What if it’s because of me?” You wondered as he took a seat across from you and handed you over the mug. You thanked him and took a sip, the hot liquid soothing your throat.

“Bab-“ Jungkook stopped himself, not letting the nickname fall from his lips.

“You can’t blame yourself for these things. None of this is your fault.” He stated with a more serious tone, staring so intensely at you that you almost believed him.

“B-but what if it is? I mean, I don’t even spend that much time with her anymore. “ You reasoned. “Maybe she’s depressed.”

“You overthink too much,” He replied, watching as you took another sip of the tea. “ She seems happy all the time, you can’t expect her to be the same as a few years ago, it’s just the age.”

You sighed, nodding slowly at his words. You knew deep down he was right, your grandmother was just reaching a certain age that didn’t let her have much energy for much. However, that made you even more guilty having to go to work and just leaving her. Of course, you knew Jungkook took amazing care of her and she loved him, always gushing about how attentive he was. But that didn’t stop the guilt washing over you.

“I’m gonna go give her a good night kiss. “ You whispered, setting the mug down. Jungkook watched you until you disappeared from his view, rushing down the hallway.

You came into your grandmother’s room, turning on the lamp on her nightstand. She looked so peacefully asleep, you almost regretted coming inside in fear of waking her up. You made your way over to her bed, crouching down a bit to her level as you pulled back her covers a bit.

“Love you, grandma. Good night.” You whispered, pressing your lips to her cheek. Her skin was so ice cold that it made you flinch back.

You frowned, eyes scanning over body.

“Grandma?” You asked, shaking her shoulder a bit. No movement.

“Grandma?” You repeated, this time more panicked. You felt your heart drop as you continued to shake her more and no response came. She didn’t seem to be breathing.

“Jungkook!” You yelled as you stood up, fully taking the covers off her.

“Jungkook! Somethings wrong!” You yelled again, frantically running out of your grandmother’s room in search for the caregiver. You hurried down the long hallway, feeling your heart rapidly beat in your chest.

“Jungkook!” You found him sitting in the same spot you left him, he slowly turned his head towards you when he saw you enter the kitchen. “ Please call an ambulance! My grandma is not moving!”

“Y/n, calm down.” He said, slowly standing up from his seat. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his calm and nonchalant behavior.

“What!? How am I supposed to calm down? She’s not breathing!” You screamed at him, running past him in search of your bag.

“Where’s my phone!?” You dumped all the stuff out of your bag on the table, frantically searching for your phone.

Jungkook watched you silently , slowly circling the table. He took a quick glance at the clock that hung on the wall.

“Why are you just standing there!” You whipped your head back at him, angry tears already forming in your eyes.

“Do something! Go find hel-“ The wave of dizziness that took over your body made you shut your mouth. You stumbled back a bit, feeling a pair of arms hold you up.

The floor seemed to be spinning beneath you. You scrunched up your face in confusion. What the hell was happening?

“Shh, it’s okay baby.” You heard Jungkook whisper , his hot breath on your ear. Your heart continued to beat rapidly in your chest as your vision became more disoriented.

“W-whats going on?” You mumbled, feeling a heaviness take over you. Your legs felt weak, almost giving out beneath you as the arms around your body tightened.

“Everything is okay, baby. “ Jungkook hushed, arms holding you down.

“Just sleep.”

The tea. Your body chilled in realization.

“M-my grandma.” You attempted to free yourself from his grip, pathetically throwing punches against his chest. He almost found your attempts humorous.

He looked down at you in pity.

“Your grandmother was just an another obstacle between us, she’s in a much better place now.” His words made you freeze, your mind not knowing how to process what he had just said. You shook your head rapidly.

“No, no.” You let out choked sob, this wasn’t happening . None of this was happening.

“What did you do to her?!” Angry tears stained your cheeks, this had to be a nightmare. This couldn’t be real. Jungkook could never do that, this had to be some sick joke.

“What did you! Let me go!” You demanded but the weakness in your body only seemed to get stronger, your own body was betraying you right now as Jungkook continued to carry you down the hallway.

“Baby, you need to calm down.” Jungkook repeated as you continued to fight against his grip, he knew you wouldn’t last much longer. “ You’re going to hurt yourself. “

“P-please, let me go.” You cried, your vision blurry now. Everything seemed to spin, slowly fading away into darkness, your body falling limply against his.

“That’s it, fall asleep.” Jungkook pressed his lips against the side of your forehead. His princess was finally his.

“Everything is going to be okay, baby.” He smiled down at you, brushing your hair out of your wet face. “We’re finally going to be together.”

[cevansfics]

Date Night

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Date night with Chris.

Word count: 1.9k+

Warnings: none (i think) just fluff

A/N: if anyone wants to be added to my tag list, let me know :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You haven't seen each other properly in over a week or so, so when Chris told you to keep your Friday night free because he was going to pick you up at 6 and take you out for a date night, you were over the moon. Things had been busy for the both of you, even more so for Chris. He'd just got done wrapping up the last Avengers film. With Infinity War and Endgame being filmed back to back, he seemed to be away for a longer. Of course, the most ideal situation would be that he wouldn't have to travel so far for work. That you'd be able to wake up every morning, next to him, wrapped up in his arms so warm like he was your very own personal human radiator. That being said, one of the many things you loved about him was how much he loved his job. And rightly so, he was good at it. Obviously, it helped to know you could call, text and Skype with each other when you had the time. So you managed to make the long-distance thing work.

Friday had quickly come around, and you were all giddy. Anyone would have thought it was your first date with him. It wasn't though, in fact, you two had been together nearly a year and a half. You were just really excited to see him properly. To be about to touch him, hug him and do all the things you wanted to that you couldn't do through a computer screen. All-day seemed to drag. You had the day off from work and had a few things to do at home. Once they were done, you just seem to shuffle around your apartment, constantly checking the time and counting down the minutes until you were going to start getting ready. That's when your phone rang, it was Chris, quickly you answered it.

"Hey, baby," You said once the phone was pressed against your ear.

"Hey," there was a little pause before he continued, and you could have sworn you heard him sigh briefly. "I have some bad news, baby."

"Oh?" Asking curiously.

"The meeting I'm in is gonna last longer than it was supposed to. I don't think we are gonna be done in time for me to get changed and pick you up at 6."

"O-okay," you try to reply confidently, hiding the disappointment in your voice. You knew you had failed, so you quickly carry on talking. "Okay, we will just have to reschedule for another time."

"No, I'm not phoning to cancel, babe, just to make a change of plans."

"Oh?"

"Well, if I am honest, I'm not sure I'm gonna be up for going out, and I just want to spend some quality time with you. So I was thinking maybe instead of going out, I could cook you dinner at mine instead?"

"You? You're going to cook?"

"Hey! I can cook!" he genuinely sounds shocked.

"Oh baby, you and I both know you can only cook 3 different things," you tease.

"Yes, okay, I'll give you that, but I happen to know one of those things is your favourite."

You chuckle, knowing damn well he is right.

"So what do you say would you be up for that instead?"

"Of course, baby. Just promise you won't give me food poisoning this time?"

"Oh, come on. You have no proof that was my fault."

"If you say so," at this point, you had both started laughing.

Once Chris had calmed down, he continued, "I'm not entirely sure what time I'm gonna be finished. But if you want, you can make your way over to mine, let your self in whenever you are ready, and I'll pick up anything we will need on my way home."

"Okay," you replied.

"Well, I better get back and get this over and done with. I'll see you in a bit. I love you."

"I love you too."

With that, you ended the phone call and started gathering some things together you would need to take to his. You decided to head over shortly after getting everything together. It's not like you had a lot else planned. The drive from yours to Chris' was only about 30 minutes, on a good day. As you made your way o. Any your car, you noticed how dark the sky was, any second now, it looked like the heavens were going to open. Only 5 minutes into your drive, and it did exactly that. At first, it was raining only a little, it wasn't too bad. But it seemed the closer you got to Chris' place, the harder to got. 'Maybe it's a good thing we are staying in, after all,' you thought to yourself.

Once you pulled into the drive in front of his house, you sat in your car for a moment. Hoping the rain would die off even just a little bit so you could make and run for the front door. Several minutes seemed to pass, and nothing seemed to change. You were going to have to make a run for it. You grab your bag from the passenger seat and pull it into your lap, getting your keys sorted and ready so once you got to the door, you would just have to push the key in the hole, turn and enter. Opening the door quickly, you leap out and shut the door behind you as the rain starts hammering down on you. You start running. You manage to take what could only be considered a step and a half before you feel resistance at your feet. You don't get a chance to understand what's happening as you fall flat on your face. What's worst of all, you land in a muddy puddle that soaks you through to the bone.

Sitting up as you glance around, not really seeing much as it's raining so hard. You go to stand only to fall again. It's then that you realise the strap of your handbag had somehow got wrapped and tangled at your feet. Letting out a groan of frustration, you smack your hand in the puddle you are still sitting in, only for it to soak you even more. At this point, all you can do is roll your eyes as you reach down and untangle your feet. Standing up straight. This time, walking to the front door, not caring about the rain. You're already soaked and covered in mud anyway. As you enter, you carefully take off your shoes and place them to the side of the door, trying your best not to drip muddy water all over the floor. You head straight to Chris' bedroom and into his en-suite. You see your reflection out the corner of your eye and take a good look. 'Jesus', you think to your self. 'I actually look like a drowned rat'. Taking a deep breath, knowing Chris would be home soon, you decide to have a quick shower. Not only to get clean but to hopefully make your self feel better about what happened.

You reach into the shower to turn it on, letting it run for a bit to warm the water up. Quickly you striped yourself of your clothes and throw them into the corner of the bathroom, knowing you'll sort them out later. Stepping into the shower as you let the hot water wash over you, closing your eyes as you let your head descend under the falling water. You let out a sigh, the hot water instantly warming up, also washing away the mud. You make quick work of cleansing your body and hair. Once you are clean, you step out of the shower, the cold air hitting you, making your entire body cover in goosebumps. Grabbing the towel off the rack, you wrap it tightly around you and get to work drying yourself, also trying to warm your self back up. When you are dry, you head into Chris' bedroom. You have a couple of comfy clothes at his from the many times you have stayed over. But you decide against putting on your own clothes. Opening Chris' draws, you grab a pair of his boxers and slip them on straight away. Next, you move to the next containing his t-shirts, grabbing the first one you see and slipping it on.

Turning around to leave the room, you hear the front door being closed, and shortly after, Chris calls out, "Honey, I'm home." You listen to him chuckle afterwards. You don't know why but every time he says that phrase, he always makes himself chuckle. Upon arriving into the living room, you don't see him, but you hear the rustling of bags and cupboards being open and closed in the kitchen, so you make your way through. He hears you.

"There you are. Thought you might have got washed away in the rai-…" he stops talking once he has turned around to see you and his mouth hangs open. Worrying you still have mud on you somewhere, you glance down at your self, back up at him and say, "What's wrong?"

"Y-your," he stutters, then clears his throat. "You're wearing my clothes."

"Oh." Running your hands over your chest down your stomach as the smooth his shirt over your body. "Yeah. I'm sorry with the ran and ever-…" you are cut off as he lunges for you — his handclasp on your cheeks, pulling you into his body as his lips are pressed against yours. Leaning into the kiss as it heats up, you run your hands up his body and grip hold of the shirt he is wearing. He pulls away ever so slightly, his lips still close enough that you can feel them as he talks.

"You should never apologise for wearing my clothes. You know how much I like it." Before you get the chance to say anything, he attaches his lips to yours and pushes you as though for you to walk backwards. Then you feel it. The counter at your lower back, before you know it, Chris leans down, grabs your hips and hoists you up onto the counter, all the while still kissing you. His hand reach for the hem of the shirt and slip under it. He gently runs his hands up your bareback while making himself comfortable between your legs. He pulls you closer to him, deeper into the kiss, and you let out a slight moan. You feel him smile, and you know he heard you. He's so cocky, knowing the effect he has on you.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," he whispers. You oblige. In doing so, he removes his hands from under the shirt, tucks them under your bum the best he can and lifts you from the counter. You yelp, surprised as he heads to leave the kitchen.

"What about dinner?" You ask.

He just looks at you with a smirk and replies, "we will get to that. First, we need to work up an appetite." With that, he carries you off to his bedroom, and you are so happy he decided he wanted to spend date night at home instead of going out.

Tag List

@a-little-counter-esperanto

@patzammit

@chris-butt

[just-a-creep-babe]

How many creeps do you think would be good at cooking? Imagine them making food for their s/o and cuddling with them 💙💙💙

Ooh, this was interesting to think about! ^^

Requests are closed

Masterlist: x

Slenderman

This 👏mans 👏can 👏cook👏

He doesn’t do it too often because he doesn’t really… need to eat, but when he does? It’s a full-course fancy af meal

And it’s fucking delicious

Those tentacles mean that he’s pretty versatile in the kitchen

Combined with the many, many years of experience he has on this plane AND the fact that he’s a perfectionist, there’s no way his food is ever less than superb 👌

He doesn’t need his s/o’s help in the kitchen, but if they wanna lend a hand, he’ll more than gladly sheathe away his extra appendages to have some wholesome, pleasant human time with them 😙

If he’s doing something special for his s/o, chances are, he won’t stop at just the taste & appearance of the food, either

He’ll arrange a whole ass presentation for them—like a meal under the stars with rose petals scattered around expensive porcelain dishes, completed with candles for mood-lighting

He’ll even put on some nice, slow classical music while you dine ;)~

No expense is spared for his one and only darling 😚

Jeff the Killer

This may come as a surprise but he’s actually,,, fairly decent in the kitchen

Like, he’s really into keeping up his shape, right? So he takes special care in the things he puts into his body so that he can operate at PEAK performance

There was, admittedly, a time when he was younger where he legit ate absolute garbage

But then he realized (surprise, surprise) that eating good food makes you stronger, so he’s been putting effort into his diet ever since

The taste can sometimes be... a little bland because it’s all super healthy stuff, but most of the time, it’s pretty good ngl

He makes a lot of protein/carb-based stuff—so it’s a lot of heavy meats

You cannot get this mans to bake with you because he’ll cut back on the sugar/chocolate & turn your dessert into... a mush, basically

And he’s one of those people who can’t work in the kitchen with others, so any cooking with him at all probably isn’t going to happen

But, hey, if you don’t like preparing meals, at least he’s got it covered :)

Just don’t expect anything too sweet or fancy from him unless you want to be disappointed :p

Which, to be fair, you should be used to disappointment if you’re dating Jeff skdjksjdlkd

BEN Drowned

Alright, so, y’know how Jeff is super into health & nutrition, and Slender’s really good at making super fancy meals with excellent presentation?

Yeah, BEN’s the opposite of both of those

This mans cannot cook—and everything he makes is like thiiiis 👌 far from being chemically inedible

Not to mention, it looks about as radioactive as it probably is

Do not let this mans in the near vicinity of any kitchen whatsoever

If he wasn’t already dead, you’d be worried about him giving himself a heart attack with the kind of food he ingests

Speaking of, because he is dead, he doesn’t necessarily need to eat, but he still does enjoy food

He can get a lil cranky if he hasn’t eaten in a while, and when he’s in his physical form, he can still feel hunger—it just won’t kill him

So he’s at this point where he mostly just eats for the flavour, which explains his questionable cooking choices

Either way, it’s not recommended that you ever let this mans cook for you 😬

Eyeless Jack

As smart & talented as he is, it’s important to remember that homeboy was a college student before the incident

And because he can’t eat human food anymore & it all tastes the same (kinda like,, rotten dirt mixed in with ashes), it just means boy sucks at cooking

He can try to follow a recipe, but somehow, they always end up tasting a little... off??

It’s best for him to just stick to chicky nuggies and frozen pizza ngl :”)

Which sucks, because if he wants to cook for you, he wants to make it healthy, ya know?

If you have the patience for it, however, he’d be more than happy to learn how to properly cook for and with you

And he’s a pretty fast learner, so maybe there’s still hope for his cooking skills :”)

He really enjoys making food with you, but it can stress him out a little at the same time

He would generally just rather order takeout from some healthy place for ya instead

Also please don’t make fun of his cooking, he’s trying :(

Masky

Masky & Hoodie are the two most likely to cook for the mansion

Everyone’s supposed to take turns, but considering the quality of the meals the others make *cough* BEN *cough,* it doesn’t usually end up that way

And since Masky genuinely enjoys cooking, he’s more likely to pick up the slack for the others

He can make pretty much anything, and unlike what Jeff makes, the flavour is varied & pretty damn delicious ^^

He’ll also make a lot extra, because not only do the bois eat a lot, but if no one else decides to cook the next day, at least they’ll have leftovers

The creeps are always free to fix themselves whatever they want, of course, but it’s nice to just open up a fridge & have something ready, ya know?

If his s/o wants to join him in prepping food, he’ll be more than happy!

Loves having extra hands to help & loves teaching them his secret to good recipes 😋

He enjoys cooking for his s/o more than he enjoys cooking for anyone else ngl

He’s the type to make them their fave dish all the time, just cause he can & he loves them sm <3

Hoodie

As I’ve mentioned, Hoodie’s one of the few people that cook for everyone in the mansion

So, while he’s maybe not as skilled or enthusiastic about cooking as Masky, he can still manage

He has a few specialty dishes that he prefers making & that taste better than the rest

And, on the other hand, he also has some random dishes that, for some reason, just never turn out how they’re supposed to >:/

He’s really good w/ breakfast foods especially ^^

Baking, on the other hand, tends to be a bit too precise, so he tends to stick away from that, but hey, if his s/o wants to bake with him, he won’t refuse

If you bake with him, he will get flour on his hands & tap your ass—just to leave his handprint on ya butt :p

He can be a bit of a goof in the kitchen—he’ll get messy & is definitely the type to smear icing on your lips just so he can kiss it off ;)

At the end of the day, if his s/o really loves his cooking, he’ll push himself to make more food more often for them

Homeboy’s just an absolute babe no matter what he does tbh 💗👄💗

Ticci Toby

This mans… also has some… issues in the kitchen

He’s somewhere halfway between BEN and EJ in terms of skill

Like, has a soft spot for sweets, so he loves baking and making desserts—and he’s even pretty good at it!

But he, unfortunately, isn’t very good at making regular food because he eats a lot of junk tbh

So he needs a bit of guidance in the kitchen to make sure he doesn’t put too much sugar in a recipe that should not have sugar in the first place

Even when baking, you sorta need to keep an eye on him

He could very easily burn himself without realizing it—but he’s sort of a danger magnet already, so that’s to be expected

Boy’s also got pretty bad adhd, so he can & will forget to take stuff out of the oven or the stove

People are kinda wary of him being in the kitchen alone after a few too many incidents…

Poor boy honestly gets a bad rep that he doesn’t really deserve :”)

[milenadaniels]

Actually, Truly, 14k - Buck/Eddie, Helena POV, post-s4 (AO3)

Isabel calls to tell them Eddie's been shot on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. When they land, they learn Eddie's already home recovering and has been for two weeks.

----

Or, Helena (and Ramon) tries to find a way back into Eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding Buck around every corner she turns.

Isabel calls on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. Their son’s been shot, again, in the line of duty. But this time, instead of being thousands of miles away and out of reach, he’s just a short plane ride away.

Isabel insists they come to her house before going to the hospital but she doesn’t blame COVID protocols for keeping them away from the hospital, so they spend the car ride over imagining the worst.

A complication with surgery.

Permanent damage.

A coma.

The news they receive is that Eddie’s fine, and he’s been home and recuperating for two weeks already.

Helena retreats to the living room while Ramon and his mother fight in the kitchen. They’re yelling in Spanish and for once she wishes she’d never learned.

“Escúchame, Ramon,” Isabel tries to interrupt. Listen to me.

The yelling continues because Ramon doesn’t listen. It’s not his strong suit. Nor is it Helena’s.

Helena paces the length of the living room and holds her phone in her hands, thumb over Eddie’s name in FaceTime, not pressing down.

Eddie’s been home for two weeks.

Isabel hadn’t told them for two weeks.

But Eddie hadn’t either.

They hadn’t seen him in person in nearly two years, and he hadn’t called them since their last fight over a month ago.

Still, Eddie was shot in the streets by a sniper and he didn’t call them.

Mom, listen...

The last time they spoke, it was a phone call, not a video chat, maybe because at that point just the sight of each others’ faces was enough to set them all off. In that phone call, Eddie spoke of a friend whose family was somehow worse off than their own, but who, miraculously, were finally making the effort to fix the broken ties between them in therapy.

“Mom, listen… I spent a long time being angry with Shannon instead of trying to reach out to her and now Christopher is never going to have her in his life again. I don’t want that with you,” Eddie said, his voice brusque but calm, measured. “I don’t want to grin and bear it when you call or when we visit. I want to be glad to pick up the phone, I want to be excited to see you all at Christmas, I want you to be part of our lives. But I can’t do that without you meeting me halfway.” He was resolute, but he was pleading too. “I don’t want to spend the next ten years of our lives like this.”

But the idea of therapy was anathema to the Diaz family and it took only Ramon’s dismissive scoff to reinforce her own distaste of the idea. They called Eddie back to say they had no intention of paying a stranger to tell them everything was their fault and he was blameless.

They didn’t get another call after that.

“— my son!” Ramon yells at Isabel in the kitchen.

“Because, mijo, when you come here, you don’t see your son! You don’t see him living here, growing, Christopher thriving! You don’t see how when you come up here you bring sadness and misery when you should bring joy and comfort.” The words are too close to what Eddie said for them not to have spoken about it together. “By the time I knew he was hurt, he was already out of surgery and doing well. If he wasn’t, I would have called immediately.”

“Oh bueno, so you’ll tell me my son is dying but not that he’s okay?”

“Ramon! Escúchame.” It’s not often that Helena gets to bear witness to the steel in Isabel’s voice, the one she passed down to both her kids. It’s in fine form today. “He was doing well, and had all the help he needed. As soon as things stabilized, I called you. Keep acting like a fool and see if I call you at all next time.”

“If you call? Are you —”

Mom, listen…

“Ramon!” Helena snaps, surprising them all.

“Ramon,” she repeats, more calmly this time. “Listen to her.”

The shock on Isabel’s face almost makes her smile, but her heart is too heavy to commit to it.

“Helena, two weeks she —”

“Our son was shot, and he didn’t tell us.” Helena says, her voice trembling. “Our son was shot, he could have died, and the last thing we would have told him is we weren’t willing to fight for him and Christopher. Weren’t willing to — what? — put our egos aside? Our pride? For one fucking minute to listen to him. To listen to what he needed.”

Ramon’s eyes widen and he hangs his head with a sigh.

Helena faces Isabel, her phone tucked in her palm against her stomach.

“What can we do? We’re listening.”

——————-

Ramon walks it off and Helena helps Isabel in the kitchen in exchange for a promise they’ll go over to Eddie’s for supper. She’s been making care packages for Eddie and Christopher since the shooting, and she’s working on a pasta sauce while Helena starts on her famous banana brown sugar bread — Eddie’s favourite.

“How is he, really?” she asks once her dish is tucked into the oven.

“As well as can be expected,” Isabel replies, throwing spices into the pot with an ease Helena never grew into. “He was tired for the first few days, but now it’s like a broken arm. Uncomfortable but not so painful.”

“How long is it supposed to take to heal?”

Isabel casts a suspicious eye her way as if she can anticipate the date of Helena’s return flight adjusting already, but answers, “they say 6 to 8 weeks. It’s for the bone to heal, mostly, in his back. The rest should be sooner.”

Helena broke her wrist years ago, when the kids were nearly teenagers, and it was three months of hell trying to manage a household one handed while Ramon spent most of that time travelling across Texas.

Who’s helping him? Is Carla back in the picture? Is she working overtime? How can he afford that on sick leave? Is Pepa or one of the cousins going over? Is his girlfriend there? Who’s helping with Christopher? How is he managing?

The questions — all genuine and well-meaning, all a shade too accusatory — are on her tongue, pressed to the back of her teeth to keep from escaping. She’s entitled to answers, even if she doesn’t like them. She knows she has the right to at least know how her son is caring for himself and her grandson while he’s injured. If he’d told them when it happened Helena could have been here in a heartbeat to help, but no, Eddie’s just as stubborn as they are, just as prideful. He’d rather suffer alone than accept their help. Fine. But she’s still his mother, and Christopher’s grandmother. She raised them both. She has a right to—

Mom, listen…

Helena takes a deep breath in, anchors herself in the mixed scents of the rich sauce and the sweet bread cooking, and breathes out. Isabel sends her another look but says nothing.

————-

Helena cries when she sees Eddie, and cries a bit harder when she sees the apprehension in his eyes. Her baby boy looks a bit pale, but he’s standing on his own two feet and answering the door himself.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, wrapping him gently into her arms, mindful not to press into the sling or his back.

“Hi, mom,” he says quietly, like he’s trying to gentle the stiffness in his voice.

She releases him, but not before pressing three kisses into his temple, always three. One for each of her kids.

Ramon steps into the space she leaves when she continues into the house and from the corner of her eye, she sees him cup the back of Eddie’s head and take a good look at him. For Ramon, it’s the equivalent of collapsing to the floor in tears.

Helena quickly toes off her boots and makes room at the entrance for the others behind her, which also puts her first in line to catch a sight that nearly knocks her down.

“Who is this young man I see?” she cries, throwing her hands wide to gesture at her grandson. “Last I saw you, you were just a little tyke. Now look at you, you must have grown three feet!”

Christopher giggles and Helena smiles in return as she folds him into her arms, but it’s forced. She’s not lying — he’s grown so much more than she expected. She hasn’t seen him in person since Eddie’s graduation and while video chats are priceless, they didn’t capture this growth spurt.

She can’t believe she let this happen. That she went from spending most of everyday with this little boy and now she’s missed out on two years of his life. Can’t believe Eddie kept him fro—

Mom, listen...

Supper goes well enough. Eddie never truly shakes loose the tension in his shoulders; he trades many looks with Isabel, seemingly spooked by his parents’ behaviour. He talks a lot more than he usually does, probably out of nervousness. But overall, they let Christopher take the reigns; they’re all more comfortable with that. It’s been too long since they’ve last spoken and Christopher is full of stories about his school and his friends.

“Buck says we can go to the Griffin soon. It was closed because of COVID. But before, I went with my class and they made a comet right in front of us!”

Buck. It’s the third time his name has been dropped at the table since they sat down.

She first met him, briefly, at Eddie’s graduation, but didn’t really register him as someone in her son’s life until Eddie and his crew stopped off in El Paso for dinner on their way home from fighting Texas wildfires. Buck had been cropping up in Christopher’s and Eddie’s stories for months by then and she was curious to properly meet him in person. He had seemed...young, she remembers.

“The Griffith Observatory,” Eddie corrects fondly. With Christopher, at least, it’s impossible for him not to soften.

Eddie’s only eaten half the pasta on his plate but Isabel seems satisfied. Helena bites down on the impulse to encourage him to eat more. To remind him he needs his strength to heal quickly for his little boy. She does lift the basket of garlic bread in his direction, because she can’t help herself. He eyes the basket warily as though he expects her to do more, but when she doesn’t, he shakes his head with a small smile of thanks.

“Yeah,” Christopher agrees, “it was cool but we didn’t get to stay long enough to see everything. And if we go later, Buck says we can see real meteors in the sky.”

Fourth mention.

“Christopher is on an astronomy kick,” Eddie adds redundantly.

“Wait, I gotta show you —” Christopher is sliding out of his seat before anyone can stop him and racing down the hall to his bedroom.

“Oh, honey —” Helena grips the arms of her chair out of reflex to jump up and help him — he doesn’t have his crutches, he’s only using the wall for support and he’s wearing socks — but Eddie looks over when her chair creaks.

He can’t really expect her to just sit here while Christopher—

Mom, listen…

They can hear Christopher make it to his bedroom without injury, so Helena slowly settles back in her chair and Ramon clears his throat. “He seems...okay. More okay than I would have expected.”

Eddie keeps his eyes on his father for a beat too long, assessing the comment for any hidden messages.

“He’s a resilient kid. Buck stayed here with him while I was in the hospital, so his routine wouldn’t get messed up. I think that helped a lot.”

Fifth ment— wait.

“Buck stayed with him?” The words — the tone — are out of her mouth before Helena can stop them.

On the shortlist of people she expected to hear stayed with her grandson to watch him and care for him, alone, while his father was in the hospital — Isabel, Pepa, Carla, or even Ana — Buck’s isn’t a name she expected to hear. A coworker — an unrelated man with no children of his own, over Christopher’s family? Over Christopher’s own aide? Over a schoolteacher?

Eddie’s jaw squares up and he sits up in his chair. Like light gray rain clouds suddenly turning dark, weighty with an incoming storm, a heavy tension builds in the air between them.

“Look!” Christopher exclaims as he rounds the corner, nearly throwing a thin, blue hardcover book on the table. Eddie catches it before it can slam into Christopher’s leftover pasta and sets it down on the table for him. “It shows all the things we can see in the sky over the whole year!”

Christopher climbs back into his chair and opens the book up to a random page, describing everything he seems to have nearly memorized already. By the time he reaches the upcoming meteor shower, the tension at the table has dissipated enough for Helena to excuse herself to the bathroom and not have it come off like a passive aggressive storm-off.

She washes her hands with soap pumped out of a fish-shaped dispenser that wasn’t here the last time she visited and trains her eyes on the basket of gauze, scissors and tape tucked away on the shelf above the toilet. That wasn’t there last time either.

Her baby boy was shot by a sniper. In LA.

A bullet tore through the body she created and almost took her son from her forever.

Mom, listen...

But only after she’d almost pushed him so far away he might never come back.

The tears well up again and she sniffs through them, blinking up at the ceiling until she’s back under control.

As she pivots to turn the light off, she spies a purple toothbrush resting on the ledge just above the sink. The other two toothbrushes are electric — one adult-, one child-sized — and stand on the counter.

—————-

Helena and Ramon meet the infamous Ana by accident.

When they leave Eddie’s house on Friday, Helena sends a text message to say what she couldn’t manage to say to his face — that they’re here for him, in whatever capacity he needs, that they’ll take their cues from him, even if that means giving him some space.

To that, she receives a, Thank you.

When she asks for the contact information of the therapist he had scoped out for them, she gets a phone call.

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” her son says, “but are you just doing this because I got shot?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” she laughs mirthlessly. “I’m sorry to say it took our baby boy nearly dying to get our heads out of our ass.”

Eddie huffs a laugh on his end. “Well, I’ll take that silver lining.”

After that, Eddie invites them to a restaurant for brunch on Sunday, but when they reach his doorstep, they find it already occupied by a woman who’s just rung the doorbell, holding a casserole dish in her hands.

When the door opens, Eddie takes in the three of them, his eyes wide and apprehensive.

“Ana, I wasn’t expecting you,” he says, his eyes darting over her shoulder to his parents. He’s smiling, though there’s a clear strain in the corners of his eyes and mouth. They’ve been critical about Shannon for so long — and with good reason, nothing will change Helena’s mind on that — no doubt he’s expecting them to hate this new woman on sight.

“You’re Ana!” Helena exclaims with a wide smile, imbuing her voice with as much welcome as she’s capable. “Hi! It’s so good to finally meet you!”

When Eddie releases the breath he was holding, she knows she was on the mark. Ramon follows her lead and invites Ana to brunch with them on the spot and won’t hear her protests about intruding.

Eddie, of course, doesn’t protest at all but invites them in so Ana can store the casserole in the fridge — it takes both Ana and Helena’s organizational skills to find a spot for it among Isabel’s and Eddie’s tupperwares already invading all available space — and he can finish getting ready. He was already dressed in a nice polo and jeans but when he comes back from his bedroom it’s in a smart button-down he must have struggled with out of sheer stubbornness. Both his parents and his girlfriend are in the house and still he didn’t ask for help.

Eddie and Christopher decide to hop into Ana’s car and Helena asks loudly for directions to keep Ramon from insisting they should all ride together.

“So how long have you kids been seeing each other now?” Ramon asks when they’ve been seated at the restaurant.

“Nearly 7 months now, I think, isn’t it?” Ana replies, looking at Eddie with a dazzling smile — she truly is gorgeous. Eddie was still talking to them when he started dating her so they know she’s a schoolteacher turned vice principal but to meet her in person blows all their other expectations out of the water. She’s lively and sweet, patient and understanding, Latina — a big plus in Ramon’s books ironically. Eddie picked well this time.

Eddie hesitates a moment and nods. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

Every now and again, he squirms in his chair, like he can’t quite settle in and Helena wonders when his last painkiller was taken. But when he catches her face, she smoothes her worry out into a cheeky smile that says I like this one. He smiles back and there’s nothing she can pinpoint exactly but something about it makes her uneasy.

Eddie’s too quiet as they wait for their food, his face pinched, and just when Helena’s about to break, Ana does her the favour of asking gently, “Are you feeling okay? Do you need to take anything for your arm?”

But Eddie shrugs off her concern. “No, thank you. Next one isn’t until noon.” He taps his phone twice and she smiles.

“Sorry, I forgot. He’s got them all on timers with a special ringtone. He’s so organized,” she tells Helena and Ramon with a sunny smile, rubbing her hand down his good arm. “I have one multivitamin and I forget to take it half the time.”

“Buck set it up,” Eddie defers, and Helena schools her face not to react; even at brunch Buck is with them in spirit.

Ramon either takes no issue with the mention or doesn’t register it. He takes the opportunity to share how his new pharmacy pre-packages his heart and arthritis medications into AM and PM slots and Ana listens attentively. Eddie’s fingertip taps absently against the phone case until their food arrives.

Christopher ordered a waffle, and with Eddie indisposed, Helena is already moving to help him when Ana beats her to the punch again. Helena tucks a smile away as Ana leans over and starts cutting the waffle up into smaller pieces.

“He can do that,” Eddie says when he notices Christopher sitting back in his chair, realizing only when Ana startles that his tone is sharp. His voice is softer when he follows up with, “Right, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, picking up his own cutlery with enthusiasm despite his hands being nearly too small for them.

Eddie throws an apologetic grin Ana’s way and brunch continues peacefully, though the stiff line of Eddie’s shoulder never does quite soften.

Mom, listen…

————-

Their first therapy session takes place in Isabel’s kitchen at Eddie’s request. Isabel thinks it’s so he has the option of leaving when he needs to (in other words, when he gets fed up and runs) but Helena hasn’t missed how Eddie has been careful to keep them away from his home since the first day they saw him.

They’ve seen Eddie and Chris numerous times in the week and change they’ve been in LA — more than they’ve seen them since they left El Paso — but always outside of the house. Sometimes they pick Chris up from school, sometimes Eddie and Chris come to Isabel’s for supper, sometimes they go out to restaurants or other outings, but they haven’t been invited back to his home again. She wanted to believe it was because he was hiding the news that Ana had moved in but that’s been shot out of the water both by her ringing the doorbell and an errant comment at the end of brunch about how she hadn’t seen him since the welcome home party.

So it’s out of pettiness, then. Stubbornness. Out of pig-headed inability to accept that he needs help and willingness to believe that they’re making an effort to meet him on his own terms.

She tries not to let it rankle her, tries to find some of that resolute commitment to letting things be and not push. But the next thing she knows, she’s yelling about it to a stranger at Isabel’s island counter.

To be fair, the session with Dr. Jamieson wasn’t going great to begin with. It’s awkward as hell, the three of them balancing on stools, squished in next to each other to try to fit into the screen, but also trying to keep the laptop close enough to still hear her and not have to shout. It’s happening while Chris is at school so they don’t have to worry about keeping him distracted but they can’t exactly ask Isabel to go wait in the LA sun for an hour so she doesn’t overhear, so it’s basically a given that she’s the fourth person on this virtual couch from the next room over.

And beyond that, Helena has kept her mouth shut for over a week which is frankly more time than anyone would have bet on, including herself, and given the opportunity to express herself freely...well…

“You want space? We’ve given you nothing but space since we got here. How much more can we give you, Eddie? You’re hundreds of miles away from us already. Forgive us for feeling the need to check in on our only son who almost died last week,” she yells, her hand nearly colliding with her coffee mug as she gestures.

“Last week?” Ramon echoes with a bark of dark laughter.

“Oh, no, that’s right,” Helena picks up. “I’m sorry! Not a week ago! Nearly a month ago! Because apparently we don’t warrant even a text when our only son almost dies, but that’s not enough space?”

Eddie rakes his fingers aggressively through his hair, his lips pursed.

“We have to move to Mexico,” Ramon continues blithely. “Is that enough space? No, better yet! Sweden! Your family still lives out there, no? We can live on their farm. Completely different timezone, we won’t even be reachable.”

“Yeah,” Eddie bites back, a sour grin blooming on his face, “that’s what I want. I ask you to give me some breathing room — to respect me, my life — and you translate that into living in a fucking commune in Sweden. And you wonder why we’re in therapy. I can’t talk to you, you don’t listen!”

Mom, lis—

“Listen to what, Eddie?” Helena yells, getting out of her seat to pace. “Listen to the months of silence you’ve sent our way? Because we either get on board and blindly cheer on every mess you get yourself into or we don’t get to know you anymore? Don’t get to know our grandson?”

“I never kept him from you — you have our number, the phone didn’t ring. That’s not on me.”

“Because you would have picked up?” Ramon exclaims, pushing away from the island to better look back at their son. “Easy to claim when it’s after the fact in front of the doctor.”

“So now I’m a liar! You raised a liar?”

“I think we’ve gotten off-track,” Dr. Jamieson’s tinny voice interjects from the laptop.

In the bottom right hand corner of the screen, only Eddie remains in the frame.

————

Firehouse 118 was a lively crowd at Eddie’s graduation but it’s nothing compared to the party thrown at the Grant-Nash house in honour of a new probationary firefighter.

Dr. Jamieson pointed out the self-fulfilling prophecy that Eddie protecting himself from criticism and pressure by withholding details about his life in LA was leading to his parents’ growing insecurity over not knowing anything about their son and feeling the need to intervene more and more.

The solution? Let them in on his life and trust that they could hold themselves in check.

For that, even Ramon was in agreement that maybe therapy wasn’t a load of shit after all.

So here they find themselves welcomed into this beautiful and loud home nearly three weeks into their stay in LA. They were allowed to pick Eddie and Chris up so they arrive together but Christopher peels off immediately to find kids his own age.

It’s impossible not to feel the warmth of family radiating from every inch of the home so when Eddie’s shoulders seem to loosen a little as they walk in, Helena can’t find it in herself to begrudge him.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a woman around Helena’s age drawls, crowding into Eddie’s space for a delicate hug he doesn’t hesitate to return. “Though I could have done without seeing another one of these for a few hundred more years,” she says, gesturing to the sling. “How much longer?”

“Another month if everything checks out,” Eddie says, releasing a sigh.

“It better,” she warns with a twinkle in her eye that says if she learns he’s been aggravating his injury there will be hell to pay.

The woman, they find out, is Athena Grant-Nash, wife of the 118’s captain and consummate host. While Eddie splits off “for a minute”, she leads them to the main area for drinks and introductions before leaving them to mingle. Captain Nash — Bobby — meets them with appetizers and introduces them to the Lees, the de-facto parental figures of the young man who just joined the team.

From the spot she claims at the edge of the dining room, Helena keeps an eye trained on Eddie outside. She feels an itch under her skin knowing it’s been nearly twenty minutes and Eddie hasn’t checked on Christopher, but she knows she shouldn’t go herself. Eddie can do everything on his own, right? He can look after his own kid at a party.

She can, however, go to the washroom and take a peek at what Christopher’s up to while she’s wandering, and that’s exactly what she intends to do.

But for now, she watches as Eddie criss-crosses through the crowds of the patio, prompting a localized burst of cheers at each stop as he reunites himself with teammates he hasn’t seen since the shooting. She recognizes the woman who was on the trip to Texas but the rest conjure only the vaguest memories of Eddie’s graduation and the occasional picture on Instagram — before he stopped posting that is. Just one more way they’ve been iced out.

But he seems happy, almost carefree in a way she realizes she hasn’t seen with her own eyes in...longer than this trip, actually.

Probably years, if she’s honest.

And it occurs to her, slowly, creepingly, that her son is outside, smiling freely and easily, surrounded by people he’s made his new family, while Helena stands inside watching his life through a glass window in a stranger’s house.

Mom, listen…

She swallows past the lump in her throat and sighs. Ramon’s arm comes around her waist and without looking at him, she knows he’s had a similar revelation.

Their next therapy session is in a few days, and they’re not going to fuck it up again.

There’s a late arrival to the party, one of the only people in Eddie’s life she can recognize — Buck. He’s as tall as she remembered but he looks a shade less young now maybe. He greets everyone with a hug or kiss on the cheek as he moves through the party, and bestows a cheer and an enthusiastic hug on Albert, the guest of honour.

When he moves on to the patio and approaches Eddie’s circle, however, the cheerful, long-awaited reunion of best friends she expects doesn’t happen. They catch each other’s eyes for a few beats and share a welcoming smile, then the conversation resumes as if nothing of consequence has happened. Buck doesn’t even linger long, heading back into the house after a few minutes.

When the cake starts being doled out, Eddie returns to meet them at the table and accepts the plate Helena offers him. Helena is scouting the yard for a chair he can sit on to eat when Buck reappears.

“He couldn’t be pulled away?” Eddie asks in surprise.

“Nope,” Buck replies with a grin before turning to them. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Diaz. Good to see you again!” Before they can return more than a smile, Buck continues, “he’s cheating at Unicorn Temple with Harry. Not even cake can pull him away.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smiles. “My son is not a cheater.” To them, he says, “Buck thinks that whenever he’s losing at a video game, it’s because his opponent is cheating.”

“Not always! Just when they are,” he replies with exaggerated emphasis before scooping a piece of cake onto a plate. “I’m gonna go hide this in the fridge for him for later before it’s all gone.”

Eddie ducks his head and smiles down at his plate, and the questions are building up behind Helena’s teeth again.

Christopher’s been playing video games all this time? Is it an age-appropriate game? Why is Buck checking on your son? Why is Buck saving him cake when nobody asked him to? Why—

But Eddie looks up with an uncertain expression and says, “there’s a table out there if you guys want to join me.”

So Helena stows her questions and says, “that’d be great.”

They eat the overly-sweet cake in peaceful silence until Ramon casts an eye around and says, “you must be glad about the new firefighter. You won’t be the baby on the team anymore.”

Eddie snorts. “I’m 33 and my kid is nearly a teenager — and that’s totally not freaking me out at all,” he adds wryly. “Besides, I was never the baby of the team. Buck is younger than me and forever a kid at heart so I was never in any danger of it.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me that Christopher’s growing up,” Helena only half-jokes. “I can still barely believe he’s old enough to hold his own head up.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and Helena banks it as a win.

“Do any of your coworkers have teenagers?” Ramon asks. “Might have some words of wisdom to share.” Since you won’t ask us, is unspoken and politely ignored by all.

“Athena’s daughter May is just leaving the teen years now, but after her, Christopher’s the oldest. Harry, Athena’s son is 9 and Denny, Hen and Karen’s son just turned 8. It’s great for play dates but not for getting advice on what’s coming up unfortunately.”

“Karen,” Ramon echoes.

Eddie’s fork pauses on its way to scoop some excess icing off his cake and his back straightens.

“Hen’s wife,” he says curtly, daring.

Helena wants to roll her eyes at the posturing. It’s 2021, who cares who anybody loves. She knows Ramon doesn’t, not really, not anymore. It’s a 50-year-long reflex to make a comment, one they’ve been working, if only to have some semblance of a civil conversation with Sophia while she works through a degree in women and gender studies.

But she knows that excuse isn’t going to fly with Eddie.

It hasn’t flown since Eddie was 20 years old and realizing he’d lost a good friend to his father’s caustic words. And Helena can’t ever go back and examine the hurt in Eddie’s expression with fresh eyes. Shemanages to forget about it most of the time until something happens to dig it out of the cold, hard ground and shove it in her arms.

Mom, listen...

But she’s come to LA because she wants to be in her son’s life, in her grandson’s life and she can’t be a coward now.

“They’re a gorgeous couple,” she says, almost too loudly in her enthusiasm. “Are they thinking of having more kids?”

Eddie turns his assessing eyes to her and is mollified by her effort. “Yeah, they’re foster parents now. They’ve fostered three kids so far.”

“That’s great,” she says sincerely. Then, accidentally on purpose and only in part to bring Ramon back to a safe topic, she asks, “Does Ana want a large family?”

Eddie sees through her attempt, but nods. “Yeah, she loves kids.”

Helena doesn’t miss Ramon’s approving nod, or the dark look that passes over Eddie’s eyes when he catches it.

“Was Ana not able to come tonight?” Ramon asks.

“I didn’t ask her,” he answers, his voice a shade too casual. “This is more of a team thing.” As if they hadn’t just been discussing the other families all around them.

“That Ana—” Ramon begins but is interrupted by the arrival of Christopher with a hint of blue icing on his nose and Buck following behind him with two paper plates filled with cake.

Christopher sits backwards on the picnic table bench and uses his arms to lift his legs over while Eddie watches but doesn’t offer to help, and when Christopher is set, Buck places one of the plates in front of him with a plastic fork stuck in the top like a flag.

“Buck was finally able to pull you away, mijo?” Eddie asks as Christopher digs in.

“No, May took her room back so we can’t play on her tv anymore. Harry’s gonna ask his mom if we can play in her room.”

“Yeah...” Buck draws out, sharing a dubious expression with Eddie over Christopher’s head, “I wouldn’t hold out for that, bud.”

“Maybe you can teach the others how to play Scrabble!” Eddie suggests.

Christopher’s nose wrinkles, “Scrabble is boring.”

“Hey!” Buck protests and takes a forkful of Christopher’s cake in retaliation, which prompts Christopher to yell and attack Buck’s cake back, taking much more than a forkful.

The commotion draws attention to their table and Helena’s gearing up to tell Christopher to settle down when she catches Eddie’s eyes on her, waiting.

Helena looks back out to the backyard to say, People are staring.

Eddie looks back impassively as if to say, Let them.

Mom, listen...

Helena swallows her impatience, her anxiety, her embarrassment.

“Hey,” Buck calls, his mouth half full of icing, “did you take your 6?”

Eddie hesitates and that’s enough for Buck to swallow and look put out, already turning and lifting a leg out of the confines of the picnic table.

“Did you turn off your alarm again?”

“I didn’t turn it off the first time, I don’t know what happened.”

“What happened is it woke you up at 6am and you turned it off because sleepy Eddie makes bad life choices.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You don’t have —”

“Right pocket?” Buck interjects, already walking away.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs.

Christopher looks at him and shakes his head with exaggerated disappointment.

“Don’t you start,” Eddie warns, scooping a fingertip of icing and dabbing it on his son’s nose too quickly for him to duck.

Christopher shrieks and reaches for his cake fingers-first.

“Oh no, no,” Eddie laughs, catching Christopher’s fingers with one hand. “Truce, truce.”

Christopher doesn’t look interested in a truce and Eddie’s other arm is in a sling, so Ramon quickly pulls the cake out of Christopher’s reach, and then Buck’s abandoned piece and Helena does the same with Eddie’s.

“Not fair!” Christopher cries, still reaching.

“Your dad’s hurt, mijo, you can’t attack him with icing while he’s healing,” Ramon says reasonably. “Wait till he’s all better.”

“He’s fine!” Christopher declares with the confidence of a trauma surgeon as he tries to climb up on the bench.

Eddie’s not in a position to pull him back down and Helena doesn’t know how far they can take their non-interference but she’s not about to let her grandson hop over a table to fall into three plates of cake. She’s half-decided she’s going to pick up the cake and walk it back inside when Buck returns, depositing a glass of water on the table and a small white pill into Eddie’s palm before swooping in and tickling Christopher’s sides.

He shrieks loudly, gaining looks from all around the backyard, but it gets his butt back down on the bench and Buck sits back down next to him, boxing him in between himself and Eddie.

“What happened to our cake? How’d it get all the way over there?” The plates are very easily within Buck’s reach; it’s a question for Christopher’s benefit.

“Dad got me like you did!” Christopher cries indignantly, pointing to his nose. “I’m getting him back!”

“Oh man,” Buck nods seriously before his finger darts forward, swipes the icing from his nose and brings it to his mouth. “Mmm, this is better than the one I got you with. You sure you don’t just wanna eat it?”

Christopher looks unconvinced.

“How about this?” Buck ducks down to whisper loudly. “You call a truce with your dad, and then I’ll steal all his icing and we’ll eat it.”

The icing on Eddie’s cake is mostly piled in a corner of his paper plate. He’s never been able to stomach the pure sugary sweetness of store bought icing.

“Okay,” Christopher nods back, reaching out again for his plate but without making grabby hands.

Ramon assesses him for a moment before taking the chance to push the plates back within reach.

“Hey, Eddie,” Buck calls deliberately. “You should take your medication now.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Eddie replies with a smile that conveys an eyeroll. “I’ll do that now.”

While Eddie pops the pill and takes a very long drink of water, Buck “sneakily” pulls his plate towards them and scoops all the piled icing onto his own plate before pushing the cake back to Eddie’s side of the table.

Christopher laughs and pushes Eddie’s plate an extra few inches away out of spite.

Eddie plays the disappointed victim passably well with a half-hearted gasp and a shake of his head. “You little thieves.”

As promised, Buck doles out some of Eddie’s icing to Christopher who immediately protests at the amount left on Buck’s plate.

“Hey, when you’re a big guy like me, you get more icing. Keep eating your proteins and you’ll get there in no time.”

Christopher accepts that easily enough. “I’m gonna be tall like dad.”

Buck scoffs, “Aim higher, kid. Literally.”

“I am barely two inches shorter than you,” Eddie laments, not for the first time, it sounds like.

“It’s practically three. Are you really going to lie in front of your parents?”

Wouldn’t be the first time, is on Helena’s tongue because it’s been hours since she could speak her mind, but she holds it in.

“How was the trip from Texas?” Buck asks them suddenly, bringing them back into the fold of a scene they'd never left but somehow stopped being a part of. “Flights have new restrictions on them now, don’t they?”

Mom, listen...

When the party is winding down and they walk outside to the driveway, Eddie surprises them by offering them both a hug.

“Thank you for coming,” he says sincerely, though Helena hears the underlying “and behaving” and can’t help but bristle.

“Thank you for inviting us, mijo,” Ramon says; his turn to save Helena from herself.

And when Eddie lets them know he and Chris will be getting their ride back from Buck, Ramon takes Helena’s hand and they smile almost sincerely as they say their goodnights.

—————-

The next week happens to be Isabel’s 80th birthday and Helena and Ramon keep themselves busy by helping to throw a party that will reunite every vaccinated member of the family in the area (they’re not about to take a chance on Isabel’s health).

Things have been getting better with Eddie. They had a second therapy session, again at Isabel’s island counter, where they lasted a good 25 minutes before devolving into yelling. The next day, Eddie asked Ramon for a ride to physical therapy, and easily accepted his father’s offer of lunch after the appointment.

Then, when Helena asked if she could pick up some groceries for him and Christopher, she was refused — in no small part, she thinks, because he still won’t let them in his house — but instead of going off on him, she channeled that anger and resentment into nearly buying out Costco for Isabel’s party. It felt like progress Dr. Jamieson would be proud of.

That’s why, despite the party officially kicking off around 11am, they’re just past supper time and all tables and counters are still nearly buckling under the weight of the food. They’ll have to send everyone home with leftovers if the flow of people stops. Isabel’s front door has been a turnstile since this morning and Helena knows from experience it’ll likely stay that way until the late hours of the night. Most recently, Helena’s daughters made their appearance, and it’s not at all the reason Helena is back in the kitchen.

Despite coming from opposite ends with different travel distances, Adriana and Sophia arrived within a half hour of each other, a move Helena saw through instantly. The idea that her children coordinated to arrive together instead of risking the possibility of facing their parents alone sets a fire raging in her heart, and she realizes suddenly that she isn’t prepared to be hypervigilant of her every word with all three of her kids here now to push her buttons.

So, she retreats to the kitchen.

She doesn’t expect one of them to follow her in.

“I heard you guys were doing therapy,” Adriana volleys as she approaches.

Helena cracks open the tray of chocolate chip cookies and starts plating them, her face angled down so any kneejerk expression of distaste isn’t as visible. “Apparently, that’s what the cool kids do nowadays.”

“It is,” Adriana agrees, the bangles on her wrists clinking on the countertop as she reaches for the box of oatmeal cookies to plate. She’s a year into her Master’s in communication. What she intends to do with that is a mystery to them. So much of their kids’ lives are a mystery now. Helena closes the lid of the cookie tray hard and relishes in the snap of the plastic groove into the tongue.

“Paying a stranger to tell us when and how to talk to each other is cool,” she bites. It’s not posed as a question, just a bitter acknowledgement.

Adriana is quiet and Helena starts plating mini quiches onto the cookie platter just to stay occupied while her daughter walks away. Sophia is a yeller, she stands her ground and gives as good as she gets. Adriana, however, is a runner, just like Eddie.

But Adriana doesn’t leave in a huff. She turns to the counter and grabs a second platter, moving the mini quiches onto that one.

“It’s cool that you’re open to trying,” she says. “I think that, in any family where there’s love, there’s going to be hurt. And the longer we stay stuck in that hurt, the harder it becomes to talk about it without causing more. We get stuck in patterns that we can’t break out of, and people on the outside can be the best ones to point out those patterns and help you break out of them to get to what you actually, truly want to say.”

Helena knows what she actually, truly wants to say. That’s not the problem. The problem is that none of her kids want to hear it.

“I see a therapist,” Adriana continues. Helena stills and looks at her daughter, calmly arranging the mini quiches into concentric circles. “Since my last year of undergrad. When things got really hard and I couldn’t understand why. They helped me. A lot. Helped me figure out what was wrong and how to get myself through it.”

“You didn’t tell us,” Helena says, her voice thick.

“I know,” her daughter replies simply. “I didn’t know how. I’m telling you now because what I actually, truly want to say is that I’m proud of you and dad for doing this. And maybe if you don’t hate it...maybe we could try a session later too.”

There’s an offer in her daughter’s words, an open hand reaching out. But in that hand, Helena sees her failures as a parent, the judgement of the world for failing her kids, and she doesn’t want to reach her own hand out.

Mom, listen…

Helena looks at her eldest daughter, almost a stranger to her, with an entire life Helena is only starting to realize she has no part in. It hurts — it always hurts when the kids pull away but to realize she didn’t even know the extent of it...she wants to hurt back.

Mom, listen…

But she’s trying so hard to break those patterns Adriana speaks of. So instead, Helena thinks of the therapist’s advice leading them into a piece of Eddie’s life they wouldn’t have otherwise gotten to see and swallows past the indignation in her throat to reach down and find the words she actually, truly wants to say.

“You say when, and I’ll be there.”

———-

The sun is setting when Helena finally agrees to get off her feet and just enjoy the party outside while the cousins take over the serving and cleaning. There are four generations of Diazes gathered around but for the first time ever, most of the cousins are young adults, not teenagers, and it’s nice to be able to pass on the hosting responsibilities to them for a bit.

The sky is clear, the sunset resplendent from Isabel’s backyard, and the conversation is flowing easily. It’s a beautiful evening, warm with a gentle breeze cool enough to let her lean back against Ramon in his lounge chair, one of his arms wrapped loosely around her hip.

For the first time since getting Isabel’s text, Helena feels something like peace wash over her and she almost feels bad for the thrum of vindication in her stomach when she spots Eddie slumped comfortably in an armchair, his legs propped up on another chair.

He’s at home here.

Yes, he was at ease at his captain’s house but this is family, this is where he can really sink into the love and comfort and rest. With his aunts and uncles, cousins and sisters around to take care of him. And Christopher, who spent the afternoon running around and chomping down on all the sugar he could get his hands on, slumped against him, nearly asleep. This is family.

She knows he could find that peace back in El Paso, they both could. Eddie had friends there, and his parents, who knew his son better than he did for most of his life. And there are fires in El Paso same as there are in LA, but less smog, less general insanity.

But Eddie’s a lot like his parents, too much like them maybe, and once he’s decided on a course of action he can’t be swayed. So Helena has made peace with it. Rather, she’s made peace with pretending to be okay with it while she waits for him to come to the realization that he should move back.

And in the meantime, if they can mend this thorniness between them, then maybe she and Ramon can make more of these impromptu trips. Maybe even convince Eddie to come home for Christmas this year. At the very least, go back to regular video chats.

But all that ruminating feels far away right now. She’s moving gently with the rise and fall of Ramon’s chest, and she’s so close to slipping away to the feeling of contentment when a new arrival makes her open eyes she didn’t realize she’d closed.

“Feliz cumpleanos,” she hears someone say in half-decent Spanish from the front door on the other side of the side yard fence.

She doesn’t recognize the voice as yet another cousin or uncle, but Eddie shakes Christopher’s shoulder gently, and says, “hey, guess who’s here.”

It takes a moment, but the words penetrate Christopher’s sleepiness. His eyes pop open and he shimmies out of Eddie’s lap and into his crutches to power walk over to the gate just in time for it to open, admitting Isabel, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and a sheepish looking Buck behind her.

“Buck!” Christopher yells.

Buck’s smile widens and he immediately opens his arms. “Hey, superman!”

Buck crouches down and Christopher throws his arms around his neck, crutches and all. When it’s time to break apart, Christopher’s still hanging on and Helena feels a stab of dark vindication at what’s about to happen, and the look Ramon sends her way tells her she’s not alone. Because Christopher is now officially in the double digits, and while he’s always been an independent kid, becoming 10 years old was a big deal for him and his perceived level of maturity, and apparently the year he decided no one was allowed to carry him anymore.

And now Christopher’s tired and in the grip of a powerful sugar crash. He’s not going to suffer any indignities, and Helena knows she should feel bad about not trying to stop Buck. About just watching this play out to see him be rejected. But she wasn’t expecting to see him here, in this safe haven of Isabel’s backyard, in this space for family and loved ones, and it rankles her. It feels like everywhere she turns in LA, she finds him there. And his being here is just another nail in the coffin of Eddie stubbornly refusing to let his parents back into his home. That he would call his friend to this party just to avoid letting them give him a ride…

So she’s a little bitter, a little resentful of the persistent, low-key rejection. Sue her. Eddie has made it clear he doesn’t want them interfering anyway so this is on him.

“Christopher,” Eddie calls, a warning to not make a scene.

Buck looks over Christopher’s shoulder and smiles. “He’s fine,” he says.

Then he’s heaving Christopher’s body up into his arms and onto his hip and Christopher…

...Christopher slumps down over Buck’s shoulder like a baby koala. No sound of protest leaves his lips. His face, if it shows any displeasure, is hidden behind Buck’s neck.

And when Eddie gets up, it’s not to intercede, it’s only to grab the errant crutches before they hit something, and to pull his own armless chair out for Buck to sit on because apparently Buck is staying, and apparently Christopher is staying with him.

“He’s a bit old to be carried around, no?” Ramon says with a bite, because he can’t help himself.

Eddie, who’s been watching his son fondly, barely bats an eye. “He gets cuddly when he’s tired, and Buck’s nearly the only one left who’s big enough to carry him.”

“Ah, that’s why you spend so much time developing these,” Pepa says with a sly smile as she pinches at Buck’s bicep. The same familiar pinch she gave her own grandkids’ cheeks.

“Gracias a Dios,” Isabel adds meaningfully.

“That was adrenaline,” Eddie dismisses with a teasing grin.

“That was 100 squats and 50 pushups a day,” Buck returns blithely. “...and maybe a little adrenaline.”

“What’s this?” Ramon asks before she can.

Instead of prompting more teasing, the mood falls slightly and everyone looks to each other.

Finally, Eddie sighs. “When I got shot, Buck army crawled under a ladder truck to get me out and lifted me into the truck to get to the hospital.”

It strikes Helena suddenly, shamefully, that in the shock of finding out they’d missed the event itself, the hospital stay, and two entire weeks of healing, that they’d never circled back around for details on what actually went down the day it happened.

She never thought to wonder how he got off that street. How he got to the hospital. Who might have saved his life.

And she wishes she were a better person then. Wishes that learning Buck saved her son’s life overpowered her irritation at having him sitting here in Isabel’s backyard like he belonged here when Helena herself barely felt like she did herself. It does help, though.

“They released the street footage of the shooting,” Pepa continues quietly. “It’s on YouTube. Before I even knew it happened, Marguerita from church just sent me a link saying ‘they said it’s a Diaz, do you know him?’ and I saw.”

The idea of her son’s shooting being passed around like a cat video makes Helena sick, but Pepa lamenting how she hadn’t known when she learned about it in a matter of hours and sat on it for weeks…

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Pepa says decisively. “But they have an angle where you can see our Buck here go and get Eddie, pick him up like he doesn’t weigh a thing and get him into the truck to get to the hospital. Probably why he’s alive today. So gracias a Dios for those squats.”

Eddie and Buck are both looking away, both looking safely at Christopher while the table digests the news.

“If you were looking for a story of something really dumb, I can point you in the direction of another video of Buck,” Eddie says, his tone jovial but his eyes strained.

“You need to let that go,” Buck says in a definite whine.

“Do I?” Eddie asks. “Abuela did you see the video of the firefighter who went up the crane all alone?”

“Dios mío, Buck,” Pepa laments.

“Did you send it to me?” Abuela asks her, pulling out her phone and her glasses to check.

“No, mamá, it was an idiot firefighter but I didn’t realize it was the one we knew.”

“In the middle of an all-out declaration of war on firefighters,” Eddie begins, quietly for Christopher’s sake, but impassioned, sitting up in his chair, “this idiota and his squat count climbed up a crane ladder, completely exposed and defenseless—”

Buck looks pained. “I was wearing a bulletproof vest and a helmet. And that’s the job sometimes—”

“The paramedics’ job, actually, which you aren’t. So, no, that wasn’t the job.” Eddie’s tone edges into something darker without his meaning to. He takes a drink of his lemonade looking for all the world like he wished it was a beer. “And you know that or I wouldn’t have found out about it from Chim a month after the fact.”

Helena clenches her jaw tight and squeezes Ramon’s hand even tighter so neither of them can say, So you have a problem being left in the dark too?

“Buck,” Isabel sighs with disappointment.

Buck winces. “It was before— ” He cuts himself off, his wide eyes darting towards Helena and Ramon of all people.

“Hmm,” Isabel answers noncommittally, as if to end the conversation.

Just then, Sophia brings out a platter of bite-sized desserts, making the rounds of the whole circle for people to pick at before leaving it on the table. The opportunity to move on is there. That doesn’t mean they’re interested in taking it.

“Before what?” Ramon asks, his tone is forcibly casual.

The silence that greets Ramon’s question is heavy. Guilty. When Helena casts her eyes around, she’s greeted by stiff shoulders and a mix of apprehension shared between her son, her mother- and sister-in-law, and Buck.

Mom, listen...

“Before what?” Helena repeats, her voice uncompromising.

———-

The fight they have in Isabel’s guest bedroom is a Hall of Famer. It’s a screaming match, no doubt about it. The doors from the bedroom to the yard are all closed but there’s no question every member of the family — and Buck — can hear every word.

“Do you really hate us that much?” Helena demands. She’s crying but she doesn’t know if it’s heartbreak or fury, she just wishes it’d stop so she could lean into her anger. “Genuinely, honestly, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests, keeping his own voice down, making it seem like they’re irrational for their anger.

“Bullshit,” she spits.

“You must!” Ramon adds. “You hate us so much that you have to hate your sisters too? Your cousins? You would rather leave your only son to a stranger, some gringo coworker, than with family? That’s how much you hate us? Hate our name?”

“Our name?” Eddie shoots back incredulously. “What are you talking about, our name? We’re not royalty, papi, and Chris’ name would never change.”

“You would leave him to your coworker,” Helena stresses, disgust dripping from her tongue.

“To my best friend,” Eddie retorts, “who Christopher adores, if you haven’t noticed. And who adores Christopher right back.”

“That’s not normal, mijo,” Ramon warns.

“Jesus christ,” Eddie seethes. “Please do not star—”

“What kind of single adult man bonds with another man’s child like that?”

“You’re describing a tío, you understand that right? What, you think it’s weird that Pepa loves me like her own? You think Sophia should stay away from Chris too?”

“That’s family,” Helena argues.

“And they’re women!”

“Ramon, shut up,” Helena snaps.

“Buck is our family, and he’s a man, and he’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. If anything happened to me, Christopher would be taken care of like if I was still here.”

“Buck, the one who nearly got him killed in the tsunami? That’s the same guy right?” Ramon throws out, his eyes a little wild as he paces.

“The one who saved his life in that tsunami, despite being injured and then some. And the one who’s saved my life more times than I can count, including from being gunned down on the street. We’d both probably be dead if not f— ”

“Isn’t he the one who’s family is worse off than ours?” Helena recalls. “So he has no family, no support, no girlfriend even! So a worse position than you’re in now. That’s what you want to leave him with.”

“He doesn’t need a girlfriend to raise Christopher right, I don’t! And he has a great sister, he has the 118, he has Carla, and he has our family. You think Abuela and Pepa would shut the door on him? He’d be here every Sunday, with Christopher, just like I am.”

“And what does your girlfriend think of this?” Ramon presses. “The vice principal, she thinks this is normal?”

“Ana doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Eddie says, frowning.

Helena balks. “You think the woman you’ve been seeing seriously for nearly a year has nothing to do with long-term decisions about your son? You think maybe she wouldn’t want the option of taking Christopher in if something happened to you?”

“That’s not happening, he’s going to Buck and that’s final.”

“What’s going on with you and this gringo?” Ramon asks suspiciously. “Are you even going out with Ana or was that another lie?”

“Ramon, don’t go there,” Helena sighs, her heart clenching. That’s all they need in this clusterfuck, that layer of pain.

“No, let’s go there because you know what?” Eddie asks darkly. “There is no one on this planet I trust with my son more than Buck and yeah, if we need to lay it all out there, that includes the two of you. I know you love Christopher, just like I know Shannon loved him, but that’s not always going to be enough. Buck isn’t going to fill my son’s head with ideas about the wrong kind of way to love someone. He’s not going to tell him he’s not good enough for his family to love him or support him. Buck’s going to make sure Christopher grows up to follow his heart and find whatever makes him happiest in the world, no matter what that looks like.”

“How could you think—”

“What if he grows up to be gay?” Eddie asks pointedly, staring his father down. “You’re telling me you’re going to be the one to help him pick out a suit to go to prom with his boyfriend?”

Ramon purses his lips but tries, “it’s a different world now,” as if he hadn’t just tried to make crass insinuations just to hurt his son.

“Okay,” Eddie says, not believing him for a moment, “what if he’s trans? Tells you at 15 that he’s a girl and he wants to transition. You’re going to get him on hormone therapy?”

“Eddie that’s not—”

“What if he’s 20 and he tells you he got a girl pregnant by accident and he doesn’t know her enough to love her, and he’s not ready to be a father let alone a husband?”

Helena tries to speak but her throat is suddenly too tight for words to get out.

“You gonna tell him he’s not a man if he doesn’t marry her anyway?”

Ramon says nothing.

“Christopher is going to Buck, and that’s final.”

——————-

Helena and Ramon don’t show up for the third therapy session.

Their plane tickets were only for three weeks, originally, and as the days run out, they don’t talk about extensions.

———-

Helena is sitting out in Isabel’s backyard, trying to conjure up that feeling of serenity she got to bask in for all of two minutes the night of the birthday party.

It’s not working.

They’re going back to El Paso tomorrow, leaving their relationship with Eddie in worse straits than when they arrived.

There’s always been a tension between them and Eddie, but there’s also always been love and respect, and that love and respect formed a polite barrier around the things they couldn’t talk about. It kept their relationship safe. Kept them from getting too close to real honesty where things hurt in ways that couldn’t be walked back.

It feels now like that barrier has fallen. That Eddie’s finally reached the limit of what he could hold back and now there’s nothing to help them pretend everything is okay. Nothing to help Helena believe this is all something that could blow over.

That’s to say nothing of Christopher, who’s never felt as far away as he does now, even while they linger in the same city, only a couple dozen blocks away.

Helena scrolls listlessly through her phone’s camera roll for the last few weeks. There are pictures of Christopher mostly, but Eddie and the rest of the family are there too. It hurts to notice how Eddie is markedly happier in the shots where he’s looking away from the camera. Away from her.

Mom, listen…

Helena opens up Instagram and lets herself forget for a moment that anything is wrong. On Instagram, there is only joy and fun. And Buck.

Eddie hasn’t posted anything to his account in months but starting from the end and working backwards, Buck features heavily. He’s in at least a third of the pictures, usually with Christopher. One of the posts includes a short video that she watches. It’s of the day they unveiled the adapted skateboard, and it nourishes her soul. There’s no sadness here, or tension, only pure radiating happiness and excitement. It’s magical.

And it’s meaningful.

Mom, listen…

Helena is out of her chair and pocketing Isabel’s car keys before she can talk herself out of it. The drive to Eddie’s house is made with a carefully blank mind. She knows if she lets herself think about what she’s going to say, she’s going to spiral and get to a place where all this fear and sadness turn dark and ugly, and she can’t afford to risk it.

Finally, she’s knocking gently on a front door she’s only seen three times in the weeks she’s been here.

Buck answers the door.

————-

The house is quiet when Helena steps in.

She doesn’t bother taking her shoes off this time, she’s not sure how long she’ll be allowed to stay. But she notices that the space where her shoes would have gone is taken up by a pair of large boots she imagines fit perfectly on Buck’s feet.

Buck disappears into the living room and she follows quietly after him. The lights are off but the muted tv glows brightly enough for her to see Eddie reclined on his back on the couch, sleeping, and Buck sitting down on the edge of the coffee table to shake his arm.

Eddie’s always been a light sleeper, especially after the army and Christopher. He doesn’t wake easily now.

He’s wearing the sling, but it’s the only indication that anything is amiss with him. There’s no sign of pain or worry on his face, no tension in his shoulders. He’s practically melted into the recesses of the couch. He’s a picture of comfort. And why shouldn’t he be? He’s in his home, away from family, from expectations, and judgements. Just him and Christopher. And Buck.

Eddie finally takes a deep breath that shows his body is coming around but his eyes stay closed. Buck is murmuring something but she only catches, “ — mom — here.”

Then, at last, Eddie’s eyelids part, and the deep laxness of his body disappears almost in the blink of an eye.

“What?” he croaks, already trying to sit up.

Buck’s hands are already moving to support his back.

“ — says she wants to apologize.”

Eddie scoffs and sits upright, feet firmly planted on the floor as he blinks himself awake.

“Mom?”

“I’m here,” she says, stepping closer into the light of the tv.

Buck catches Eddie’s eye and they have an entire conversation in five silent seconds that ends with Buck nodding and getting up from the table, watching Helena warily as she approaches further.

“Watch your eyes,” Buck says quietly to Eddie before flipping the wall switch and illuminating the room. He lingers for a moment, clearly undecided about leaving, before saying, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Finally, Helena is alone with her son in his home. The quiet is almost peaceful, she doesn’t want to break it. Eddie does instead.

“Buck said you wanted to apologize, so I’m assuming he misheard,” Eddie says wryly.

There are pillow creases on the side of his face and Helena can’t remember the last time she saw him look so disheveled, so at home. It makes her heart ache for the days when she’d have to force him out of bed at noon on weekends, drive him to wrestling practice early in the morning, watch over him as he slept sometimes, just to make sure he was okay.

“Shockingly, no,” she smiles sadly.

Eddie blinks up at her for a moment before shifting down on the couch, leaving her some room to sit. She takes the invitation, but once she’s sitting down with Eddie’s full attention on her, she realizes not preparing what she wanted to say might have been a mistake. She has no idea where to begin. What scab to pick at that won’t cause more bleeding.

Then she remembers Adriana’s words.

What is it, under all the posturing, all the hurt feelings, all the history and baggage...what is it she actually, truly wants to say?

“I’m sorry I missed therapy.”

Eddie huffs a surprised laugh. “Of all the things…”

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “But I am. I…” She forces herself to slow down and consider her words. “I realize that therapy was an olive branch for you. One we took way too late and I’m...I’m just so fucking grateful we were able to take it at all, in the end.”

The tears are coming and there’s nothing she can do to stop them. They gather in the corner of her eyes and she tries to blink them away but has to settle for wiping away the ones that fall anyway.

“You were right,” she says. “You said — and your sister said, and the therapist said — that there’s a lot of hurt, and it’s become too hard to...to connect with each other because of it. And therapy is probably the only bridge through that. So even though I was pissed at you, I should have showed up.”

She hazards a look up at Eddie to find his brown eyes wide and cautiously wondering.

“Therapy is what’s going to help us and the only way to fail at it is to not show up.” It’s what the therapist had said in their first session. It had sounded like an easy thing to do then. “And that’s not okay. I’m not going to do that again.”

Eddie nods and looks away. His fingernails are flicking nervously against each other — a habit he picked up from her. “Is dad on the same page as you?”

Helena takes a deep breath, and blows out, “No, your dad is looking for a match to light the page on fire.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but there’s heavy hurt behind the indifference.

“I hid all of them,” Helena offers, “and left Abuela with the fire extinguisher.”

That gets a small smile.

“I really expected you to be more pissed about it than him,” Eddie says, he reclines against the arm of the sofa but no part of him looks comfortable with this conversation.

“Oh, I am—” The rage swells up in her. The outrage and indignation. But again, Adriana’s voice comes to her. “I...am...really, truly hurt, Eddie. I feel...I feel like you told me I’m not good enough to love Christopher how he needs.”

Eddie’s face collapses with disbelief. “You mean the way you’ve been making me feel since he was born? Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Since the moment Shannon got pregnant, you’ve both been hammering it in on us that we’d never be enough, we’d never be good enough for him. Why do you think I joined the army? Why do you think Shannon ran?”

The accusation makes her breathless, it makes that familiar rage bubble up closer to the surface. “Shannon made her own choices, you’re not going to pin that on us. And so did you.”

“No, I can’t pin that on you. She did choose to leave,” he concedes, his voice hardening. “But you spent five years telling her over and over that nothing she ever did was good enough, and when I got back you did the same to me! ‘Don’t drag him down with you.’ Does that ring any bells?”

“I spent five years helping her, being a second parent to Christopher when she was in over her head. She needed help. She wasn’t cut out—”

“No, she wasn’t,” Eddie agrees. “Neither of us were. We were stupid fucking kids who barely knew each other. She was supposed to get back on a plane to California when the semester was done and instead we got married in the backyard because you told us that’s what we had to do.”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie. You want to blame me for Christopher being born? For raising him in a family with two parents?”

“You’re not listening,” Eddie spits.

“I’m listening to you say over and over how I ruined your life because I didn’t let Shannon get an abortion. And that’s somehow the reason to keep us out of Christopher’s life now?”

“No, you’re not—” Eddie closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. “I love Christopher with everything I am. If I had the chance to go back and do everything differently, I wouldn’t. I would never. Being his father is the most important thing I’ve ever done.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I was a kid in over my head and my parents didn’t know what was best for me. Didn’t know how to help me. And I figured that out on my own, I grew up and became the man I am now on my own.” She wants to argue but he’s on a roll. “And that’s fine, no parent is perfect. I know I’m going to make mistakes and I hope to god Christopher can forgive me, so I need to forgive you yours. But I need you to see me, now. I need you to look at me and realize I’m not that kid you put in a suit in the backyard. I’m not the kid that signed up to get shot at instead of facing his life. I’m not that kid anymore, mom. I’m not.”

“I see that, Eddie.”

“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t constantly be telling me I need to move back to El Paso to take proper care of Christopher. You’d see that our lives are here now. I have a job I love and pays what we need. Christopher loves his school, his friends. He’s a popular, genius kid. He’s happy. I’m happy. And we’re doing good. But you don’t see that. You see that dumbass, scared kid making his next mistakes. And I’m sorry but I’m not going to let you drag me back into that spiral. If you need to be the parent to that kid, I can’t be the kid you’re parenting. I’ve grown up, mom.”

“So,” Helena clears her throat, hoping the waver in it will clear too. “That’s what the guardianship is? We...lost sight of you growing up. We didn’t give you what you needed. So you’re punishing us?”

Eddie sighs as if she didn’t understand.

“No, you know what? No, I’m sorry,” she switches tracks, her voice hard, “how are we supposed to see this new person you’ve become, Eddie? You left El Paso, left us behind, you won’t come home for holidays, you even stopped posting on Instagram, and when we come here to see you’re alive you won’t even let us into your home. So how? How are we supposed to see this magical transformation when you won’t let us in?”

Eddie watches her for a moment, weighing his words. “You show up for therapy.”

And that takes the wind out of her sails.

That’s what she came here for.

To apologize.

Not keep yelling.

Mom, listen…

Helena takes two deep breaths and crooks a smile. “Yeah.”

“You yell a lot.”

Christopher’s voice startles them both, pulling a short grunt of pain from Eddie as his shoulder jerks back. Christopher is leaning against the wall into the living room, wearing the disgruntled pout of someone who was woken up for no good reason.

“Christopher…” Eddie begins, trying to leverage himself off the couch.

Helena pushes him back down, and turns to Christopher, opening her arms.

“I do,” Helena admits softly, as Christopher comes over and leans into her side. “I do yell a lot. I’m...trying to yell less.”

“Dad never yells.”

Eddie smiles tiredly.

“Hmm,” Helena agrees, “I think there’s a lot of things I need to learn from your daddy.”

Christopher nods, his eyes drooping. “He’s the best,” he says, snuggling into her shoulder. She’s getting on a plane tomorrow so she takes the opportunity to relish in this hug, and press a long kiss on his curls.

“Ah, I thought I heard an escape artist on the prowl,” Buck says as he turns the corner.

“We woke him up,” Eddie says redundantly. “We’ll keep it quiet now, buddy.”

“K,” Christopher mumbles.

“Okay, buddy, let’s get you back to bed” Buck says quietly as he leans over to carefully scoop him into his arms. Christopher’s arms loop around his neck like he’s done it a million times, and his head falls to Buck’s shoulder.

“Buck’s the best too,” Christopher mumbles.

Buck’s ducks his face away.

“That’s what I hear,” Helena allows in a tone she hopes is gracious.

As they leave, they can hear Christopher say, “they stole your bed.”

Buck responds but it’s too quiet for them to follow the rest of the conversation.

Eddie ducks his head and sighs.

“That’s why you were keeping us away?” Helena asks, her voice more gentle than she thought she could muster at this point. “Because Buck’s crashing on your couch?”

Now that she’s looking, she spots the folded duvet stacked on the chair in the corner, the pillows tucked neatly below. It only makes her more aware that she found Eddie sleeping soundly on the very same couch.

“I didn’t — I didn’t want questions. I didn’t want dad’s look, the same look he has every time Buck comes up. The same look—” Eddie sighs harshly. “I didn’t feel like fielding questions. He was here for Christopher when I was in the hospital and when I came home… He helps. A lot.”

Helena nods pensively, and surprises herself by finding a kernel of gratitude towards Buck burgeoning in her chest.

“So, speaking of fucking up as parents,” she begins with a crooked smile that fades by the end of the phrase. She doesn’t know how to finish that sentence so she starts a new one. “The...hurt that piles up, that makes it hard to talk through...does some of it come from Matty?”

She can see an instinct flare up in her son to shake his head and dismiss the topic, but he doesn’t let it take hold. It’s time to face this.

“It didn’t help,” he admits.

Eddie and Matty met in sixth grade and became best friends almost instantly. They spent weekends in sleepovers, fought off other classmates to be each others’ group project partners, and spent every summer going to the same camps. Matty was an honorary Diaz before they even hit their teens.

Five years later, Matty came out to his family, and then to theirs. His parents took it well, Eddie’s parents didn’t.

The sleepovers stopped, the summer camps stopped, and if Ramon could have sent Eddie to another class he would have.

The day he came out to them was the last day he stepped foot in the Diaz home, a natural consequence of Ramon having run him out with caustic, angry words.

“We…” Helena licks her lips and looks away to gather her thoughts. “There’s a lot of reasons we reacted the way we did. Ignorance, more than anything. It really was a different world back then. But...the world has kept turning, things have kept changing and we can’t pretend to be ignorant anymore.” She looks Eddie in the eye to say, “we were wrong. We were wrong to chase him away. And if the day comes that Christopher is gay or trans or any of the other words we haven’t learned yet, we’re going to love him just as much as we do now.”

Eddie keeps her gaze for a moment before nodding. “I’m glad to hear it.” The way his shoulders gather near his ears says he doesn’t believe her though he’s trying.

Because when Eddie and Matty stood shoulder to shoulder to tell Ramon and Helena the news, Matty wasn’t the only one crushed. And they know, somewhere deep down, that their reaction was as extreme as it was because they were never fully sure if the hurt in Eddie’s eyes was on behalf of his best friend, or if they exploded before more news could be told.

And it still scares Helena to this day, to this very moment sitting on her son’s couch. It’s why they welcomed Shannon at first, the first girl Eddie really brought home, even though they didn’t approve of her overall.

But she knows now that there’s nothing anymore, not her pride, not her ignorance, that will stop her from trying to bridge the gap between them. So she continues deliberately, “and if this new, grown up version of you comes with any of those words, we’re not going to love you any less either.”

His eyes widen and for a moment she’s looking at her 17 year old son in the living room, eyes wide as Matty runs out of the house. She wishes this moment could replace that one, stamp out that mistake forever. But it can’t, so she has to make this one count even more.

“I’ll still be here, and I’m listening. I...I see you,” she says. “You and Christopher. I see you settled in so well here, even now with your injury.”

Eddie remains quiet, but apprehension creeps across his face and his eyes dart behind her where Buck and Christopher disappeared.

“I see the boots at the entrance,” she continues, her voice pitched low, “the extra toothbrush you forgot to hide away. The tupperwares full of food Isabel and Ana didn’t make. But more than anything, I see Buck. Everywhere.” A smile creeps up her lips. “The only place I didn’t see him was at brunch with Ana and call me crazy but I feel like you would have preferred he was there too.”

Eddie’s lip is being chewed to within an inch of its life, and his eyes are trained on the couch cushion.

“Hey,” she taps his knee. “You...grew up to be a good man, and a good father.” The words are so many years too late but she’s grateful to see them land as Eddie’s eyes begin to shimmer. “And you deserve everything you want for Christopher. Happiness, whatever that looks like.”

Eddie swallows thickly and clears his throat. “And dad?”

“Dad...has his head too far up his own ass to see or hear anything,” Helena admits. “But he’s due for a colonoscopy soon so I’ll work on it.”

Eddie chokes on a laugh that catches him off-guard and suddenly they’re both laughing, quietly so they don’t wake Christopher up again.

When they recover, Eddie invites her to the kitchen for a drink, where Buck is packing Christopher’s lunch for school tomorrow.

When she leaves, her stomach is in knots she imagines won’t smooth out for a few weeks yet, but a weight’s been lifted off her chest and her heart is full in a way it hasn’t been in years.

When she lands in El Paso, her phone pings with a message from Eddie: Hope you had a good flight. Free Friday for a call?

———-

When Friday comes, after catching up with Christopher, Eddie tells them he broke it off with Ana.

Helena digs her nails into Ramon’s knee instinctively, but she prepared him well and despite his continued reservations, all he says is, “That’s too bad, mijo.”

———-

Two months of virtual therapy and video chats later, Eddie tells them he’s bisexual. They react the way they should have all those years ago, and Helena tries to be grateful they got to have this moment at all instead of mourn for the years Eddie lost because of them.

There’s no mention of Buck, but Eddie’s eyes flit fondly over the laptop screen every once in a while at Christopher and someone else off-screen.

The call takes place at 8am LA time, and the sling has been gone for nearly three weeks.

———

At Christmas, Eddie and Christopher are waiting for them with smiles on their faces at LAX’s baggage claim. When they get home, Buck is there opening the door and helping them with their luggage.

Isabel isn’t there to mediate but supper that evening goes smoothly. The tension that lurks is anticipatory on all sides, a feeling of this being too good to last. But by dessert, everyone is sitting back in their chairs and smiling. And when Buck rounds the table to start the clean up, he places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his thumb brushing the back of Eddie’s neck, and Helena watches as the last bit of strain melts out of his body.

The basket of gauze is nowhere to be found in the bathroom, nor is the purple toothbrush. Instead, there’s a third electric toothbrush standing in line with the rest.

Helena’s been keeping an eye out for opportunities to follow Adriana’s advice. To find the words she actually, truly means, and say them before she runs out of time. So before turning in, she takes Eddie aside and tells him, “I’m really happy you found your home here in LA. I’m really proud of the family you’ve made.”

And when she closes her arms around him, she can feel him fold into her like he used to as a kid, no polite distance or anxiety. Just comfort.

[kiirokero]

Outro: Love is Not Over (Epilogue)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Um, Hoseok cries but they’re happy tears, like very brief mentions of kids without parents. 

Word Count: 4.3k

Note: Oh no.. Writing this made me sad :( It’s really over? (I don’t know why I’m asking that... I’m the author...)

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / The End ❁

Masterlist

I’m not a morning person. 

Never have been. 

   I used to dread the signs of a new day. I used to go to bed and groan at the thought of the sun peering through my curtains and calling me back to the real world. I’d curse the morning birds and their repetitive song and roll my eyes at the overly cheerful morning news host, who obviously sported a fake smile every time she was on air. 

The only reason I used to wake up was for Yunho. 

   When my alarm went off, my first thoughts were getting Yunho ready for the new day, so he didn’t have to hate it like I did. I’d wake him up, help him choose his outfit for the day, make his breakfast while he got dressed, and send him off to school. With a genuine smile. Even if I wasn’t a morning person, I’d be one for him. 

But things are different now. 

   The sun peeked its soft, pale yellow rays through the sheer ivory curtains that covered the windows of our bedroom. The sun’s warmth laid over my face like the hand of a mother trying to rouse its child from sleep. I was familiar with the motion. Several birds sung their morning tune, perched up on bare branches as they serenaded the woods like they have been since the first time they peeped. It was winter, meaning the birds have migrated to warmer places, although Busan’s climate didn’t make it feel like such. Yes, it was cold, but it was no winter wonderland.  

   Despite the slight chill outside and the slightly cloudy skies, everything felt pleasantly warm. Like the house was on its own schedule, changing seasons whenever it deemed necessary. It felt like the perfect April spring day under the white sheets of our bed, wrapped in a pair of gentle, slightly tanned arms. My body cradled in the embrace of my shirtless lover. 

   “Ma! Hobi! Wake up!” A giggle voice called, followed by the patter of running feet. Hoseok and I grumbled, playfully ignoring the hybrid and snuggling deeper into the covers. We heard Yunho scoff as we held back our giggles, waiting for him to do what he always did. He indulged our silent expectations. Yunho jumped up on the bed, shaking the mattress and us as he hopped up and down, laughing. 

   I relented and peeked my eyes open. My heart softened when I saw Yunho’s smile (Which was missing a couple of teeth) “Well, good morning to you too,” I chuckled, moving to sit up. “No...” a gruff voice from beside me grumbled. Hoseok tightened his arms around my figure, trying to persuade me back down in bed so he could snuggle me more. 

   I smiled, petting his bed head as compensation for my utterly rude movement. He grumbled again, opting to just snuggle into my side. “Hobi!! Wake up!” Yunho whined, bounding over to the older hybrid, jumping on top of him and grabbing his face with his hands, which were comically smaller. Hoseok let out a little “oomph” sound before he let Yunho move his head around and poke at his cheeks. 

   Hoseok’s eyes were still closed, but the heart-shaped smile that graced his face gave off waves of happiness. “Okay, champ, I’m awake,” He chuckled, peeking his honey eyes open to look at Yunho. The ten-year-old cheered in victory, scrambling off Hoseok to sit in my lap. “Do you know what day it is?” He grinned, his missing front teeth on full display. 

   I hummed playfully, tapping my finger against my chin as Hoseok watched us with a smile from where he was laying next to me. “Hmm, well, today is a big day, am I right?” I teased. Yunho nodded vehemently. “A very big day,” Hoseok commented. “Could it be... Your big day?” I asked. Yunho giggled. “Yes!” He exclaimed, wrapping me in a hug and nuzzling his face in the crook of my neck. I wrapped my unoccupied arm around him, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.

  “Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll make your favorite breakfast?” I offered. Yunho pulled back and looked at me with stars in his eyes before chirping out an “okay!” before he squeezed me one last time, bent down and gave Hoseok a hug, and scurried out of the room. The two of us watched him go with warm, melted hearts. “He gets cuter as the years go by,” I sighed. “Wait until he’s a teenager,” Hoseok poked. I looked down at his teasing smile with a pout. “Don’t say that!” I whined, doing my best to wiggle out of his grasp. 

   Hoseok didn’t let go, he just held me tighter while he cackled at my attempts. “You’re mean,” I chuckled, pushing his face away from my side. Hoseok playfully nipped at my hands with his sharp canines, fighting them off like his life depended on it. All with a smile on his face. “But you love me,” He gushed, nuzzling his face into my stomach once he won the fight against my hands. 

   I rolled my eyes, giving him one last scratch behind the ear before I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Hoseok whined, but let me go. “Come on, you menace. Put a shirt on and help me with breakfast.” I said, throwing on one of his sweatshirts and making my way downstairs. I heard him dramatically groan. 

   I made my way to the kitchen and got out the ingredients for blueberry pancakes, Yunho’s favorite. Today was January 14, Yunho’s 10th birthday. He’s been eagerly waiting for this day since December, constantly dropping hints of what he wanted and what he’d like to do. So for today, Hoseok and I planned to take him out to a new amusement park with Hyejin, Yoongi, and Hajun (a different from the one we frequented), go out for dinner, and come back home for ice cream. (and presents of course)

   “Hobi!!” I heard Yunho call from upstairs and the aforementioned man responded with a “Yes?” before I heard his footsteps trail through the upstairs hallway. When Yunho was about 7, he started calling Hoseok “Hobi” instead of “Mr. Hoseok” once he realized that Hoseok was sticking around for a bit. I think it was because Yunho fully accepted him into his life, but Hoseok argues that “Mr. Hoseok” was just too much of a mouthful. 

    “Eomma... Where’s Hobi?” Yunho mumbled one morning while I fiddled with the coffee machine. I looked down at him with a quirked brow. “Hobi?” I asked, and he nodded. “Yeah, Mr. Hoseok. Where is he? Did he leave?” He pouted. I gave him a reassuring smile as I picked him up and sat him down on the counter. 

   “Hobi went out to get some breakfast, don’t worry, he’ll be back,” I said, petting his head. Yunho leaned into the touch, looking up at me with his puppy eyes. “Promise? Promise he’ll come back?” He asked, sticking out one of his pinkies. I chuckled, grabbing his pinky with my own. “I promise. Hobi wouldn’t leave us, bub,” 

   Right on cue, the front door opened. Yunho’s ears stood at attention, and he quickly jumped off the counter. He ran over the Hoseok who had a box of donuts in his hands and latched onto his leg, nuzzling his face into the material of his jeans. “Hey, champ. Are you okay?” He asked, moving the box over to one hand and resting his newly unoccupied one on Yunho’s head. “Don’t leave like that!” He whined. Hoseok frowned, bending down so he could look at Yunho properly. 

   “I just went out to get donuts, bub,” He explained, opening the box in front of him. “I got your favorite,” He smiled, motioning for Yunho to take one. Yunho complied, picking up a regular glazed donut and taking a bite out of it. “Did Hoseok scare you because he wasn’t here when you woke up?” I asked, leaning against the wall. Yunho nodded with a slumped head. 

    Hoseok looked at me with sad eyes before he turned his attention back to Yunho. “I’m sorry, I’ll tell you next time, okay? And if I’m ever not here when you wake up, know that I’ll always come back.” He smiled. Yunho looked up at him. “Do you promise, Hobi?” He asked. I could tell the new name caught Hoseok off guard, but he shook it off, holding out his pinky for Yunho. “I promise.”

And he’s been calling him that for three years now. 

   Suddenly, Hoseok came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head on top of mine while I mixed the pancake batter. “What was up?” I asked. “His adult canines are sore again, so I gave him some medicine,” He explained. I sighed, “Hopefully they’ll settle soon, and correctly.” Hoseok moved his head to rest over my shoulder and reached over to pop a blueberry in his mouth before saying, “It’ll be okay. I remember when mine started growing in, I cried until they settled. He’s already stronger than me,” He chuckled, giving me a kiss on the cheek before he pulled away. 

  Not long after, Yunho came running down the stairs, bouncing over to where Hoseok was leaning against the counter and plastering himself to his leg. Hoseok smiled down at him and ruffled his hair. “How are you feeling?” He asked. Yunho shrugged, “Okay,” He answered. “Do you think you’ll be able to eat?” I asked before actually cooking any of the pancakes. “Mhm! I can eat,” He reassured. I chuckled, “Roger that,” Hoseok and Yunho both gave me a kiss before they moved into the living room to watch cartoons. 

I never thought I’d be a morning person, but damn, waking up next to Hoseok really changed that. 

   Since that day at Geumjeongsan, Hoseok and I took things slow and steady. Nothing changed at first. Hoseok would come by for ice cream nights like he always did, but then he’d stay after I put Yunho to bed. Then he took me on dates. Then he’d stay over for a couple of days. Then I asked him to move in with me. And now here we are, about 4 years later, with a new Jung Hoseok added to Yunho and I’s little family. 

  My bed never felt cold anymore, nights weren’t lonely or silent, and I looked forward to the morning. The mornings where I could peak my eyes open and see Hoseok’s sleeping face right in front of me, his hair all tousled. The mornings where I could wake up and hear his laughter mixed in with Yunho’s downstairs. The mornings when I was roused from sleep with a gentle, “Wake up, baby,” or “Honey~ wakey wakey~”

I’ve never been a morning person.

But Hoseok and Yunho made me one.

   The joyous screams of amusement park visitors echoed through the chilly air. The grind of rollercoasters tracks and other thrill rides hummed in a familiar rhythm. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy wafted past our noses as we entered the gates of the amusement park, keeping an eye out for a certain cat family. 

“If it isn’t my favorite sister! Ready for some amusement park fun?”

“Hyejin, you’re an only child. You basically adopted me in college to fill the little sister role. And yes, of course.” 

   Hyejin cackled as she ran up and wrapped me in a hug, while Hoseok excitedly greeted Yoongi, his best friend, with a hug of his own. Yoongi grumbled, but I could tell liked it by the way his noir tail swished back and forth. Yunho ran over to give them a hug as well, a blinding smile plastered on his face. 

   Hyejin pulled away and greeted him enthusiastically, picking him up and spinning him around. Yunho squealed in delight, their giggles intermixed with each other. Once Hyejin let him down, Yunho gave her a proper hug before bouncing over to Yoongi to give him one, too. “Oh god, you're getting big,” Yoongi commented, sounding exactly like an old man. “You’re going to be taller than your mother when you 're an adult,” He snickered, and I whacked his shoulder in defense. He let out an “ow” but continued to laugh. 

   “You know, that means he’d be taller than you too, Yoon,” Hoseok said, and Yoongi immediately cut off his chuckles to give the taller hybrid a shoulder whack of his own. I watched the interaction with a satisfied grin before I felt a tug on my shirt. I looked down to see Hajun looking up at me, silently asking for a hug. “Well, isn’t it my favorite nephew,” I said, kneeling down to wrap Hajun in my arms. He wrapped his arms around me in return, quietly nuzzling his face in my chest. 

   After we all exchanged our greetings and went over the rules with the kids, Hyejin clapped her hands together with a smile. “Alright! Let the adventure begin!” She exclaimed. Hajun and Yunho cheered with her as we started walking through the park. Yunho grabbed onto Hoseok’s hand while Hajun took Yoongi’s and the two of them pulled the grown men every which way. Hyejin and I lagged a bit behind, lost in our own conversation. 

   We walked through the food stands and carnival games, collecting drinks and a couple stuffed animals that Yunho and Hajun guilt tripped Hoseok and Yoongi into winning for them. “Look Hobi! It looks like the dragon from my show!” Yunho grinned, pointing up the red dragon plushie that was one of the prizes for winning the “Throw the ball and knock down the bottles” game.

   Hoseok looked at what he was pointing at and nodded in agreement. “Do you want it?” He asked and Yunho quickly nodded his head yes. “Now, now, I think you’ve won enough for right now,” I said. Yunho pouted, about to whine out a “But Ma...” before Hoseok beat him to it. “It’s fine, baby, just one more? Then we’ll stop,” 

   I sighed, relenting pretty quickly under Hoseok’s persuasive smile. He and Yunho cheered, going over to give the stall employee his money. The employee gave Hoseok three balls and pointed at the stack he’d be aiming at. Hoseok gave one of the balls to Yunho and asked him to take a shot at it. Yunho stuck his tongue out in concentration and threw the ball. It completely missed, but Hoseok was quick to turn his pout into a smile when he threw one of the other balls, successfully knocking down some of the bottles.

   Now, a man throwing a worn out baseball should not be attractive. But it was. It was attractive. I knew Hoseok went to the gym whenever he could with his friend Jeongguk, and it obviously paid off. He was fit, and his flexing biceps only proved that fact further. 

   Hoseok threw the second ball and knocked down the rest of the bottles, winning the dragon for Yunho. Hoseok handed the toy to Yunho, but before Yunho took it completely, he rubbed it all over Hoseok, getting his scent on the toy. Hoseok let him with a smile on his face. Once he deemed it scented enough, he hugged it to his chest and grabbed Hoseok’s land, running back to where I was standing. 

   “Look Ma!” He said, proudly showing the stuffed toy to me. “Wow!” I gasped in that typical “impressed mother” way before I shot Hoseok a grateful smile. “What do we say?” I asked. Yunho turned around and hugged Hoseok’s leg, “Thank you, Hobi,” He said in a singsong voice. Hoseok chuckled. “You’re welcome,” 

   We continued on our journey through the park, occasionally stopping to get on rides like the teacups and the merry-go-round. I made sure to take plenty of pictures of Yunho’s bright face and Hoseok’s heart-shaped smile. (And occasional face of fear when the rides suddenly sped up)

   “Ma! Can we go on that one?” Yunho asked, pointing at one of the rollercoasters. It was quite tame, nothing crazy, just fast paced and a couple of small drops. I looked at it, feeling my stomach go a bit queasy. I was never the best with rollercoasters. “Go with Seok and see if you reach the height limit,” I said. Yunho grabbed Hoseok’s hand and shook with excitement as he led him to where the height limit board was set up. Hajun also pulled Yoongi over. 

   Hyejin giggled. “They look absolutely adorable, don’t they?” She asked. “Who? Yoongi and Hajun? Yes, Yoongi and mini Yoongi are the cutest,” I chuckled, but Hyejin shook her head. “No, silly, Hoseok and Yunho,” she clarified, and I let out an ‘ohhh’ before I nodded my head in agreement. “Yes, they are also the cutest.” I smiled, watching as Yunho bounced up and down in excitement when Hoseok told him he reached the limit. The two of them looked over at me and I shot them a thumbs up, waving them off as they got in the queue. 

   “I’m proud of you, ya know,” Hyejin spoke up, turning to look at me. “Why’s that?” I asked. Hyejin playfully rolled her eyes because to her it was so obvious what she was alluding to. “The little family you’ve made with Hoseok,” She said, “You changed so much, and for the better. You’re literally glowing every day and so is Yunho. You don’t have that doubt anymore, and that feeling isn’t rubbing off on him anymore.” 

“Really? I mean, I definitely feel better, but I didn’t know I was looking like it too.”

“I’m just happy to see you so happy.” 

   I smiled, looking back at where Hoseok, Yunho, Yoongi, and Hajun were standing. The four of them in their own little world as they talked about whatever. Probably music, which was what the boy’s new obsession was about. “My boys make me happy,” I said with a shrug. 

“Have you ever thought about marriage?” Hyejin blurted out. 

   I choked on the water I was sipping, coughing it up as it made its way down the wrong pipe. Hyejin gently pat my back, like a gentle form of the Heimlich manoeuvre however the Heimlich wouldn’t help in this situation since water wasn’t a solid. “W-What?” I stuttered out, looking at Hyejin with wide eyes. 

  Hyejin took the fact that I wasn’t dying as an invitation to start laughing. I swatted at her with a pout. “Don’t laugh! You caught me off guard!” I whined, and Hyejin laughed harder. After she had calmed down, she took a deep breath and cleared her throat before looking at me again. “Have you ever thought of marriage? Like, marrying Hoseok?” She asked for the second time, but this time I didn’t choke. (Luckily)

   “Um... No? I haven’t, isn’t thinking about this a bit too soon?” I argued. But Hyejin shook her head. “You’ve been together for like, 4 years. I don’t think it’s early at all,” She said, crossing her arms. “You’re saying you haven’t thought about it at all? Like never?” She questioned, and I shook my head. “Not at all. I just, live in the moment and appreciate the fact that Hoseok is with me in the first place,” I gushed. 

   “Do you want to though?” She rose a playful brow, nudging me softly. I spluttered, “I um. I don’t know...? Yes...? Marriage is expensive, though. The venue, the dress, the food-” I listed, but Hyejin quickly cut me off with a finger to my lips. “Gosh don’t think about that, think about if Hoseok were to get down on one knee and pull out a ring right now, would you say yes?” She asked. I chuckled, “Hyejin that’s-” “Nope! Answer the question!” She chirped. 

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah... Yes, I’m sure I would,” I answered truthfully, feeling my ears heat up in embarrassment. Hyejin squealed, bouncing up and shaking me out of excitement. “Ah! So cute, I can’t wait for the wedding,” She gushed, wrapping her arms around me so I’d bounce up and down with her. “Hyejin! Stooopp” I whined, feeling the stares of passersby. 

  Hyejin pulled away once the excited cheers of rollercoaster-high Yunho and Hajun came bounding over to us. They cheerfully told us all about how Hoseok screamed and Yoongi closed his eyes the whole time. Hoseok walked over to me with a pout, clearly embarrassed about his lack of courage. He wrapped his arms around me and whined about how awful the rollercoaster was. But I could only blush as I thought about what Hyejin had talked to me about. 

“Happy birthday, dear Yunho, happy birthday to you!” 

    “Is the cake good?” I asked Yunho who had a forkful of ice cream cake in his mouth. He nodded with a smile, his face scrunching up cutely. I chuckled, petting Yunho on the head before I started to clean up the mess we had made, which was mostly wrapping paper mess from Yunho’s gift unwrapping extravaganza. 

   As Hyejin and I went to put the dishes in the sink and throw the trash away, she spoke up with a pout. “We’ll have to get going... All three of us have things to do in the morning,” She sighed. “Why do you sound so guilty?” I chuckled, patting her on the back in reassurance. “Because it’s so early! And I wanna hang out with you longer,” He whined. “Hyejin, you see me like all the time. It’ll be okay. Why don’t we meet up for coffee on Wednesday?” I offered. 

   Hyejin immediately cheered up, enthusiastically agreeing to the plans and wrapping me in a hug. “I love you,” She said. “I love you too,” I responded. Yoongi came back in from where he and Hoseok had disappeared out back, keys in his hands as he looked over at Hyejin. “Ready?” He asked, and Hyejin nodded. 

   Yoongi told Hajun to say his goodbyes, which he did, albeit reluctantly, as Hyejin and Yoongi said their own. “Take care,” Yoongi whispered to me, and he gave me a shoulder hug. “You say that like you 're going away for a long time,” I said. Yoongi just shrugged, “I’m not, but still, take care.” I smiled at him. “Will do and I love you too,” Yoongi looked away with a blush, running off to hide behind Hyejin. 

   “Bye!” We all waved as we watched them go from the front door. The Min family reciprocated with their own set of waves and chorus of “Bye”s. Having guests leave after a party aways feels so odd. I never realized just how quiet the house was at night. 

   “Okay! Time for bed,” Yunho chirped, padding over towards the stairs. Hoseok and I raised our brow, looking back and forth between each other and Yunho with wide eyes. That was abrupt... “You don’t want to stay up? This is the only day I let you,” I said, utterly confused. Yunho turned around and shook his head no. “Nope!” He said, popping the ‘p’ “I have school tomorrow,” He said. 

   “Alright, since when do you want to be ready for school?” Hoseok chuckled, tilting his head at the younger hybrid. “Tomorrow is Appa day, where we’re supposed to bring our Appa to school with us,” Yunho smiled, like what he was saying was nonchalant. I cringed. I never really like the concept of “Eomma days” or “Appa days” because, like Yunho, not everyone had an Appa or Eomma. It just seemed harmful, in a way. 

   “Are you sure you don’t want to stay home tomorrow?” I asked, but Yunho vehemently shook his head no. “Then Hobi and I would miss Appa day!” He whined. Now if Yunho surprised us with his enthusiasm for school, he rendered Hoseok and I... Well, speechless. 

   Hoseok coughed, taking a minute to process the meaning of Yunho’s words. “Is that okay...?” Yunho cautioned after seeing Hoseok’s reaction. “Yes! Yes. It’s perfectly okay. We can, um, we can get donuts for breakfast, yeah?” He sputtered out. Yunho’s face lit up. “Okay! I’m going to go take a shower,” He proclaimed before he ran up the stairs towards the bathroom. 

Silence. 

There was nothing in the air but silence between Hoseok and I. 

Until Hoseok’s soft sniffles reached my ears. 

   I made my way over to Hoseok and cupped his teary face in my hands. “Hey... Why are you crying?” I asked with a worried look. Hoseok didn’t answer at first, and I gave him the space to calm down and gather himself. “He-He wants me for Appa day, so does that mean...?” He sniffled, looking at me with pleading eyes that silently asked me if this was real and not a dream. I nodded. “I think it does,”

  Hoseok cried even harder, burying his face into the crook of my neck and wrapping his arms around me, holding me tight. “He sees me like that?” He cried. I didn’t realize just how seriously Hoseok took his role as a father figure, and I guess the conformation from Yunho that he was, in fact, his father figure made him feel like he had won the World Cup. “He does. You deserve that honor, Hoseok,”

“I just... I don’t... Appa”

“Shh, take a deep breath, okay?”

   I let him cry in my neck until he pulled away by himself, leaving me with a saturated collar and sleeve. Hoseok looked at the wet spot and chuckled. “Sorry,” He croaked out, but I shook my head and took one of his hands in my. “No need to apologize, it’s just a shirt. Let’s get ready for bed, okay? You have a big day tomorrow.” I smiled. 

Yunho was my light.

And now he has a father could be things that I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just Yunho, Hoseok, and I

“What’s stopping you, Seok?”

“I’m just nervous, Yoon. What if she says no?”

“Why would she say no?”

“I don’t... Know...”

“Exactly, so just take her somewhere nice and ask. That’s how I asked Hyejin,”

“You make it sound so easy... But alright... I’ll do it.”

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© KiiroKero

Another Note: I have drabble plans for the OLINO universe that I might write and post. They won’t be out for a while but I might write them.