#me when ​my coworker is lecturing (again) me on something I keep forgetting and telling me to just not forget: 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

[megatraven]

I’m going to kill someone and it won’t be me

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (4/?)

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 2.6k words

Warning: 18+ (discussion of assault, nervous breakdown, anxiety attack, just don’t read this whole series if you are a kid)

You woke up to a night of dreamless sleep like you always did, but then the events of the previous night hit you. You wished it was a dream, but one look in the mirror and a bruise running along your cheek was enough to confirm. Not only that, but you remembered asking your boss to stay over, but you didn't expect him to. The blanket on your living room’s couch and the bowl of fruits and a glass of juice situated out for you on the kitchen counter proved that he did stay.

And then the reality sunk in, you have a decision to make. You can either go to the cops or let that guy get away. The latter sounded not so great, but you knew going to the cops isn't going to be great either. You've seen enough detective shows to know that. You've had enough, and you just wanted to forget it. 

What did Mr. Barnes mean when he said you were going to talk about this? Are you supposed to visit him before work? Is he going to come to your place?

You decided to work on your book but ended up not being able to concentrate, so you started watching a show and fell asleep while watching it. Maybe some Chinese take-out could make you feel better. It didn't. Nothing made you feel better. You wished you had some friends in this new town because you didn't want to burden your work friends. 

After a horrible day of trying to cope, when you finally made your way to the club, you noticed the security was increased. Usually, security guards weren't present inside the club, but today it was different. Everyone was so vigilant and you felt a little safer. If you didn't know any better, you'd think Mr. Barnes did it for you, but again he would have done the same thing for any other employee. 

"Boss wants to see you," Pietro told you. You were about to head for Clint's office when the blond twin spoke again and pointed his finger towards the stairs." The boss."

Okay, well maybe playing naïve couldn't avoid this meeting, so you slowly walked upstairs. How bad could this go, it's not like he saw you in your most vulnerable state? Oh, wait, he did. 

You knocked on his office door, wanting to rip the band-aid and get over with it. 

"Hey," you said, faking a smile. "Thanks for getting me home last night and for breakfast today. I didn't even know I had fruits and juice at home because let's be honest, I'm a toast and coffee kinda gal."

Mr. Barnes didn't say anything, he just looked at you as if you were a confusing puzzle that he couldn't solve. He raised a hand towards the seat in front of him and you took it, nervously fiddling with your fingers under the table.

“You do that a lot, you know?” he asked, it wasn't a question, it was merely an observation.

“What?”

“Deflecting a serious issue by using a joke.” Mr. Barnes observed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What are you? My therapist?”

He arched an eyebrow, indicating that you were literally doing the thing he pointed out. 

"Yeah, well, it's called having a healthy coping mechanism. You should try getting one, brooding is only gonna help you this far."

 "It's not healthy if you're not dealing with it," Mr. Barnes pointed out. 

You scoffed in incredulity and you felt very, very attacked. 

What is it? Attacking y/n day?, you thought. 

"Anyway, I think I want to press charges," You changed the subject to a more serious conversation to avoid him calling you out on your bullshit. 

"Okay, I understand.” 

“You do?” You asked, bewilderment clearly written all over your face. “I mean, letting an employee go to the cops is not gonna be great for your club's reputation and yours too. And, you know, considering the shady business, you do-” 

"What exactly do you think we do?" He asked.

And that's when it hit you, you didn't know what he did or mob bosses do in general. All your knowledge about it came from movies and Wattpad, both of them are not a great place to gain knowledge.

“What exactly do you do?” you pondered.

 He obviously wasn't expecting you to directly ask him, nobody has directly asked him or even made it known that they are aware of his work. It was kind of like a silent pact that everybody signed for, everybody except you, apparently. 

“Um, you know, I've been working for almost 2 weeks here now, and I haven't seen any drugs around here, so it's obviously not drugs. You don't look like the sex trafficking types-”

 "Jesus, woman!" He exclaimed, offended by your assumptions. 

"Then just tell me what you do."

You expected him to tell you something, but he just kept looking at you with a face void of emotions.

 "Fine, don't tell me," you mumbled, raising your hands dramatically in defeat. 

“So you don't mind me ruining your reputation by going to the cops?” 

“I told you I don't care. Your safety is my utmost priority,” your face might have given away the surprise you felt because he quickly backpedaled. ”I mean, the safety of my employees.”

“The safety of my employees is my utmost priority,” he told you, providing an extra emphasis on the word employees. “Anyway, one of my people would take you to the police station near-"

You cut him off immediately. 

"No, you can't tell anyone else. I don't want everyone hopping on the pity train. I'm already ashamed that you know about it," you pleaded but your voice was firm, telling him that this was not up for a discussion.

At this, his eyes and features softened. Bucky didn't want you to feel guilty or ashamed for somebody else's actions, but clearly, you did. 

"Okay, then I can take you. You just had to explain to the officer last night’s events, and they'll ask you to recognize Rumlow and then we can-"

Mr. Barnes’s voice faded into the background when it finally hit you.

"You know what, I changed my mind. It's too much. I don't want to press charges anymore. I didn't think this through," you backtracked. You did think this through, but now all the factors were adding up in your brain. You'd have to explain the details to a cop who is probably going to be another man and a stranger, and then they'd ask you to identify the guy. You didn't think you had it in you to face him. At least not now. 

He interpreted your thought process and promptly changed the topic. "Okay, we can work with whatever you want, and at least let Peter escort you home after work."

"What? No!” You quickly declined.

“It's for your own safety,” Bucky tried to reason. He wasn't letting you get off this easily.

 “I'm a strong, independent woman and I'm not scared of anything.” 

That was a lie. You were scared of many things like heights, dark, spiders, confrontation and the list goes on and on. 

You remembered all the lectures your mom gave you telling you that women should be scared because men are monsters, and you'd lose your honor if you are reckless and some other patriarchal crap that you didn't pay attention to. But you weren't scared, you were just always careful. You'd always put the keys between your knuckles when you went home alone. In your previous job, you used to laugh it off whenever your coworkers made a sexist joke. You'd ignore the subtle shoulder touch that your previous boss did. You told yourself that this is what it takes to make it. If you were to run away every time someone eyed you in a wrong way, then you'd spend your whole life running. 

Women usually shrug this behavior off as it is what is, but the truth is it shouldn't be like this.

“Please, I insist.” 

“I'm very capable of taking care of myself. Just because one bad incident happened doesn't mean I'll fucking break!” You stated, your voice louder than your regular voice to get across your point.

That was also a lie. You were walking on a thin line and you were ignoring your emotions. You were one outburst away from a breakdown, and you just couldn't bring yourself to feel anything. 

Mr. Barnes tried to call your name, but you were already bolting out of his office. 

You needed a drink. No, fuck that. You needed multiple drinks. It wasn't exactly wise to get drunk during work, but it couldn't get any shittier than this, right?, you thought.

Right?

 Wrong. It could get way shittier than this. Now it was almost midnight, you were kind of tipsy, and you could see two Mr. Stark, your regular customer, in front of you. 

Did he have a twin? Is he and his twin brother one of those identical twins that dress up the same? Because that's what it looked like.

 “Earth to y/n," Mr. Stark said, or was it his twin? It was getting hard to keep track anymore.

 And that's when you noticed. 

“Holy, Shit. You're triplets, Mr. Stark," you announced. 

"Okay, kid, close my tab.”

“Hey, y/n. Are you okay?” Peter asked, noticing the concerned look Mr. Stark gave him before leaving.

“Yes, I'm fine. Absolutely fine.”

***

Turns out you were not fine. You've been pretty much hammered for the past week, and you could barely get a sentence out without giggling or slurring. Your colleagues took notice of your state and whenever someone pointed it out, you'd just shrug it off as a bad day or a bad week. There was no concept of time in your drunk state.

You couldn't concentrate on your book, you could barely look at someone without squinting, and you've been eating takeout and leftovers for the past few days. 

James would have fired if someone working under him was this irresponsible, but he knew your reasons. He knew you clearly weren't coping with the trauma well. Your work ethics were shoved down the trash that even Clint asked why you weren't fired yet.

Bucky didn't want to talk to you, he thought that maybe giving you some space would do you good, but clearly it wasn't working. Usually, the mob boss didn't interfere in the affairs of his employees, it was Clint's job, but when you smashed a bottle on the head of a customer, he had to interject.

“I TOLD THIS FUCKER NO!” you yelled, Peter’s hand around your middle from behind. Another empty beer bottle was in your hand, ready to be smashed across the face of the drunk dude in front of you.

Pietro and Wanda were enjoying the show. Peter, being the peace lover he is, held you back when you smashed a bottle across a drunk customer's face. Even though Peter was younger than you, he was stronger, and he was not only holding you back but also himself. He didn't want to cause a scene and that is why he was mulling comforting words in your ear like, he's not worth it, you're gonna kill this guy.

Damn right I am, you thought.

It was ironic because everyone in that club had killed someone except you.

When Bucky walked into the room, the drunk guy turned towards him and pointed at you. ”You are hiring crazy bitches now? Just called her baby girl and she went psycho!!!”

Bucky didn't understand what was happening. He told the security guards to take that man outside his club and he walked towards you. He firmly yet gently took a hold of your left arm, signaling Peter to let go of you. Without a word, he started walking in the direction of his office, dragging you along with him.

Once near his office, he lightly yanked your hand and shoved you inside, making you stand in front of him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he inquired, having had enough of your incompetence.

You were seething with rage. "Wrong with me? I told him no, but he didn't listen."

Bucky stepped forward, his anger dissipating into sympathy. " I know, he mumbled, "and I'm so-"

 "No, you don't know!" you yelled, body trembling and tears welling up in your eyes. "I told him no multiple times, I even tried to push him off me, but he just kept coming back."

Bucky's eyes furrowed in confusion. He didn't understand your words, the drunk customer didn't touch you. And that's when he realized, you weren't talking about the drunk customer. He cognized that the drunk guy purely triggered something that you've been suppressing for days now. Bucky was aware that you needed to get it out of your system to cope healthily.

“I told him no, you know? But he just wouldn't listen,” you stated, trying to convince yourself that you didn't lead him on. ”And he was so…. so strong and… and then he hit me and everything just went blur, I couldn't see but... but I could still feel him with me.”

Not realizing that you were not in that place anymore, you wrapped your hand around yourself to seek some sort of protection and comfort, bottom lip quivering, the welled up traitorous tears were streaming down your face and all you could think about was that night. 

“I… I can't get his touch out,” you stammered. ” I shower, multiple times a day, but I still can't get his touch out.”

With that, you broke down completely and shattered on the floor, sobbing ferociously. Your knees ached because of the position you were situated in, but the emotional pain was enough to overshadow the physical one.

For once in his lifetime, Bucky did not know what to do. Cautiously, he made his way towards you and knelt down in front of you. He did not know what to say or do to make you feel better.

You launched your body towards him, snaking your arms around his shoulder to settle on his neck as if he was the only thing grounding you. You lurched onto him like he was your anchor, and maybe he was. It took a minute for Bucky to register your actions, and when he did, he wrapped his arms around your middle and closed the minuscule distance separating you.

He surprised himself with the way one of his hands automatically reached for your hair and whispered words of comfort in your ear. He caught you as you crumpled physically and emotionally. 

”You're going to be okay, doll,” he whispered and kissed your temple with sincerity. ”I will make sure of that.”

The second part was barely audible, it wasn't meant for you, it was a promise he made to himself.

Bucky held you tightly yet gently while you sobbed on his shoulder.

 He didn't know how long he held you, it felt like an eternity to him with the way he could feel the guilt and rage inside him. When you passed out in his arms, he gently placed you on one of the comfortable couches in his office and draped a blanket around you that he had for when he would work late at night.

An office chair might not be the most ideal place to spend the night in, but it didn't matter to Bucky. All that mattered was you.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​  @rivers-rambles21​  @emmabarnes​@goodcleanfunsis​ @valsworldofcreativity​

[sequinsmile-x]

High

Aaron gets hurt protecting Emily. 

For my pal @aubreyprc 

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Canon typical violence/injury. Some cursing. Aaron Hotchner high on pain meds. 

She was going to kill him. 

First, she was going to check he was ok, kiss him until she was sure and then she was going to kill him. 

Emily anxiously twirls her wedding and engagement ring around her finger, attempting to channel her nervous energy into something other than tearing her cuticles apart. A cup of coffee enters her eye line, and she looks up to see Dave standing in front of her, a reassuring smile on his face.

“It probably tastes awful, but at least it’s something.” He says as she takes it from his hand and he sits next to her. “The others are finished at the scene and are on the way.” 

Emily grimaces at the taste of the coffee as she takes a sip, but for a second it distracts her, takes her mind off the fact her husband is an idiot. 

An idiot who she loved more than anything. An idiot who happened to take a knife to the shoulder for her less than an hour ago. 

“He’ll be ok, Emily.” 

She scoffs before taking another sip of the coffee, grimacing at the taste again. “He won’t be once I’m finished with him.” She shakes her head and looks at her friend. “Why did he do it, Dave? We’ve been together for years and this has never happened.” 

“The guy had his arms around you and a knife against your throat.” Dave says, his eyes flicking to the tiny cut on her neck. “He would have done the same for any of us.” 

Emily closes her eyes at the memory. She wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, how she had ended up on the floor and the unsub had his knife in Aaron’s shoulder in a matter of seconds. The first thing she was really aware of was a gun going off, Derek taking a well aimed shot at the unsub to disarm him, but not kill him, and Aaron lowering himself to the ground next to her with his hand pressed against his own shoulder. 

She had held him against her as they waited for the paramedics, her hand against the wound and her lips against his forehead as she told him she loved him and how fucking stupid he was in equal measure. 

“I know he would have.” She agrees, knowing it was true. Aaron would do anything for the team, take any of their places if they were in danger. She knew he carried a burden if any of them got hurt, more so if it was her, and it would take weeks for the guilt to fade, for her to be able to convince him that just because he was their leader it wasn’t his fault. “It doesn’t make him less of a self sacrificing asshole.” 

“Em-”

“Maybe you can save the lecture for when I’m not sitting in a hospital waiting room wearing a shirt covered in my husband's blood?” Emily says, an edge to her voice that has Dave hold up a hand in surrender as he takes a sip of his own coffee.

Emily knew Aaron would be ok. He hadn’t lost consciousness once, even when she had sat next to him in the ambulance, his hand grasped in hers as he tried to hide the amount of pain he was in. But he had been so pale, the blood loss making him look weary as he tried to reassure her that everything would be fine. 

“Family of Aaron Hotchner?” 

Emily looks up to see a doctor standing and looking around, a kind look on her face as Emily stood, Dave not far behind her, and walked over. 

“I’m his wife, is he ok?” 

The doctor guides them back over to the waiting area, indicating for Emily to sit down, which she does, feeling anxiety rise through her chest. 

“The stab wound your husband came in with was very deep, and the scans show that the tip of the knife broke off against his clavicle.” The doctor explains gently. “The tip of the knife is still in his shoulder, so we are going to have to do surgery to get it out and close up the wound.” 

Emily felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, memories of when Aaron had been stabbed before, so many years ago now, flooding back in a way that took her breath away.

“Is he going to be ok?” She asks, shrugging Dave’s hand off of her shoulder as he tries to provide some comfort, knowing right now it wouldn’t do her any good.

“There are never any guarantees.” The doctor says, but she smiles at Emily again in a reassuring way. “But he has remained conscious this entire time, and spent a long time trying to convince us he didn’t need pain meds.” 

Emily chokes out a laugh at that. “That sounds about right.” She clears her throat, forces down the emotion trying to claw its way up it. “Can I see him?”

“Of course.” The doctor replies. “I need you to fill out the paperwork too.”

Emily stands and follows the doctor, briefly turning back to Dave. “Can you let the others know?” 

“Of course, bella. You go make sure he’s ok.” 

She follows the doctor to the room Aaron is in, and she blows out a breath when she sees him. The wound to his left shoulder is packed tight and he looks so pale it does nothing to calm her concerns. 

“Sweetheart.” He says as soon as he sees her, a strain to his voice as he tries to hide the pain he is in. She walks over to the bed and sits on the edge of it facing him, taking his hand in between hers. “Are you ok?” 

He lifts his good arm to press his thumb to the tiny cut on her neck, the one that had stopped bleeding before the paramedic even arrived, and Emily rolls her eyes at him. 

“I’m fine. And I’m not the one with a piece of a knife stuck in my shoulder, honey.” She scoffs as she straightens the cannula in his nose delivering him oxygen. “You scared me.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

She leans forward and kisses him, a gentle thing against his lips to remind herself that he is alive, and then she rests her forehead against his. 

“It’s ok. Just don’t do anything stupid like die during surgery.” She says, her smile wavering as tears flood her lash line. “I’d hate to have to bring you back to life just to kill you myself.” 

He laughs at that and it makes him jolt in pain, wincing as the movement makes his shoulder burn. She shushes him, her fingers soft against his cheek. 

There’s a clearing of a throat behind them and Emily turns to see a nurse standing there. 

“We need to take you down now, Agent Hotchner.” 

Emily turns back to Aaron and kisses him, more forceful this time as she tries to pour everything into it. She pulls back and smiles at him. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He says, squeezing her hand.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

__________________

The first thing Aaron feels is pain. His shoulder is killing him, a burning sensation lancing all the way down his arm and across his chest. Then he realises how fuzzy his head feels, the tell tell signs of anaesthesia and heavy pain killers in his system, making his brain feel light and heavy at the same time.

He opens his eyes and looks around, unsurprised to see he is in a hospital room. He groans at the light in the room, the brightness of the fluorescent lights making his head swim even more. 

“Aaron.” 

He turns to see Emily sitting next to him, a look of relief on her face. Her presence confuses him, unsure why she was by his side, and why her hand was in his. 

“Prentiss?” He asks, missing the way she frowns when he calls her by her surname. “What happened?” 

“You were stabbed, you had to have surgery.” She stands up, both of her hands now grasped around one of his. She presses a kiss to his cheek and he shrinks backwards, the pain in his shoulder stopping him from moving more. 

“What are you doing?” 

She looks at him, equal parts concern and amusement on her face. “Trying to kiss my husband.” 

“We aren’t married.” He says, and he watches her smile slip away. “That’s mean, Prentiss.” 

Aaron had loved her for years, longer than he had cared to admit. He’d often wondered if she’d felt the same, but this felt cruel. Like she was messing with him when he was so in love with her just having her touch him made his skin feel like it was burning. 

“I could show you our marriage certificate but I don’t carry it with me everywhere we go.” She jokes, a nurse walking in before she could say anything else.

“Oh look who is awake.” The overly cheery nurse says as she sends a smile to Emily. “Your wife was very worried about you.” 

“Not my wife.” Aaron mumbles. Just my beautiful coworker I’m in love with. He thinks, although a small laugh from Emily and the nurse tells him he may well have said it out loud.

“Is he ok?” Emily asks, concern for him sneaking it’s way into her voice. “He knows who I am but keeps insisting that we aren’t married.” 

The nurse finishes checking Aaron’s vitals, making a note on the chart in her hands. “He’s fine, this isn’t totally unusual for someone coming round from anesthetic. I’ve seen some people completely forget who their loved ones are.” She presses a few buttons on one of the machines he is hooked up to. “I’ve set up the next set of meds, so he should sleep soon. Next time he wakes up, try and get him to eat some of the crackers we’ll bring in.”

Emily nods and turns her attention back to Aaron as the nurse leaves. “See, the nurse knows we’re married.” 

“I’d remember marrying you.” He grumbles, eyeing her wedding rings with jealousy. Her husband is a lucky bastard. 

Emily smiles at him, biting her lip to suppress a laugh as he realises he had accidentally spoken out loud again. She pushes some hair off of his forehead, her touch warming him immediately, something familiar about the gesture that his confused brain can’t place. He thinks he sees her get her phone out, but the room is starting to get blurry, his eyes closing against his will. 

“I don’t think you even remember what town we’re currently in, Aaron.” 

“Too pretty to marry me.” He says, his voice thick as the painkillers the nurse had given him start to make him drift to sleep. “Too good.” 

“Go to sleep, love.” She says, a kiss to his forehead as she soothes him. 

He falls asleep to her soft lips against his skin, and he thinks there would be much worse things in the world than being Emily’s husband.

__________________

It takes another couple of hours for him to wake again, and she can immediately tell he’s more lucid this time. A focus in his eyes that hadn’t been present in the few minutes he had been awake earlier.

“Hi sweetheart.” He says, smiling at her in the way he did on their first date, the way it made her feel now no less significant than it had been then. 

“Hi honey.” Emily stands from the chair next to his bed so she can kiss him, and then she settles on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Sore.” 

She raises an eyebrow at him, but leaves it, knowing that she won’t get any further admission of pain from him. “I need to make you eat some crackers.” She says, a smirk on her face as she indicates the package on the table next to him.

He groans, the idea of eating anything making his stomach turn. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. But I’ll give you a few minutes.” 

“I’m your husband, you’re meant to be nice to me.” 

“Oh, so now you remember we’re married?” She asks, a wry smile on her face that develops into a laugh at his confusion

“What?” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll tell you later. I took a video.” Her smile fades slightly as she takes in the bandage poking out from his gown, the way his arm was strapped to his chest. 

“I’m ok, Em.” 

“I know.” She says, looking back at his face and giving him a wobbly smile. “Today was rough.” She lifts his hand to her lips and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “As soon as you are better we’re going to have a conversation about you sacrificing yourself like that for me.” 

“I’d do anything for you.” 

Emily shakes her head at him and rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.” 

“But you love me.” 

Emily smiles and kisses him, pulling back just enough to to speak. “I really do.” 

__________________

She shows him the video footage of him in the hospital as soon as they get home, him in their bed on rest for at least a month. She giggles as he tries, and fails, to take her phone from her, his usual strength failing him with one of his arms out of action. 

He promises all sorts of filthy things, once he’s better, in exchange for her deleting the video, which she does in front of him.

It’s only at the office Christmas party a few months later when it pops up in the montage Penelope puts together every year he realises he’s been duped. 

[buckysgoldenheart]

Watching You

Walter Marshall x Reader

Summary: Walter did not like to waste time on stupid things, and being asked by some young troublemaker to start following an ex-girlfriend around fell under that category. At least, it did, until he found out just who the ex-girlfriend was.

Words:  2334

Warnings: Cursing. Slight smut. Not Edited or anything of the sort, so expect little!

Note: This is just something I had saved that I thought I’d post while I finish up the Vampire Henry Series (Unexpectedly Bitten). I plan to post the rest of that fic all at once, most likely this weekend. As always, comments are appreciated :)

What a no-good loser. That’s what Walter thought the second Jimmy Masters walked through the front door of his office on a Saturday evening. He was a good six inches shorter than Walter, much scrawnier, ten years younger at least, and in desperate need of a haircut. He was the kind of kid Walter hated, the kind of kid that had probably seen the inside of a jailcell for a night or two for some stupid, petty crime, yet refused to learn his lesson.

Walter’s eyebrow arched in disinterest and he sat back in his chair, arms crossed as a coworker led the kid inside.

“We think this falls in your area, Marshall.”

Walter had only nodded and told the boy to sit to explain his reason for interrupting the first moment of peace in the day.

“I got a friend who says detectives know how to follow people real well,” Jimmy said, his voice an aggravating tone that Walter already couldn’t stand.

Walter cleared his throat. “Your friend is rather astute.”

“What?”

The detective blew out a breath, exhausted after speaking with the kid for less than a minute. “Just tell me what you want.” And when Jimmy was done with his pitch, Walter said with a sigh, “You want me to follow a girl that clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you?”

“No, man. She loves me. She does. She’s just confused right now, and I gotta make sure there’s no other guy, ya know? I don’t want her messing around. It’s disrespectful.”

Walter heaved out another long sigh, rubbing at his temples. “But she’s your ex-girlfriend.”

Jimmy shook his head, his shaggy, dusty-blond hair swaying vigorously with the motion. “That’s temporary.”

Snorting, Walter sat up in his chair. “Sure it is. Look, you think maybe she just isn’t interested anymore?”

“Hey, I’m not here for additional commentary. Can you help me or not?”

“From what you’ve said, she’s not breaking any laws, she’s not a danger to herself or others, so I have no reason to—”

“Please, man. Please,” Jimmy said, putting his palms together in lame prayer. Walter was sure this boy hadn’t prayed to anything in his entire life. “I’ll never step foot in here again if you help me out just this once.”

Walter eyed the kid, trying to weight the pros and cons of wasting his time on something so inane, but if it got the little, blond twit to go away, then he figured there were worse things. It had been a slow week as it was. He groaned and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. “Fine. What’s her name?”

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

“Walter,” You said, trying to hold back any emotion in your voice as you moved aside to let him pass the threshold into your small apartment. As habit had it, you were much happier to see him than you wished. Walter always had a way of lighting your every nerve on fire from just your bodies being in the same room. You couldn’t help wanting him, missing him, but you hid it well.

As he walked in, his body trailed the outside chill behind, sending a shiver down your spine. Then he pulled the beanie you’d bought him off his head and turned to face you. Though the irritated look on his face was not an uncommon one, you didn’t appreciate it directed at you.

You crossed your arms. “Well?” Walter hung around quite often until you had asked him to quit it, and though he didn’t usually listen to you--putting his own concerns above your wishes--you knew he held a respect for you that made him at least try to keep his distance. If he was stopping by now…well, it could only bring you trouble, but not seeing his face in so long had you more lenient.

“Why is some punk walking into my precinct and asking me to follow you?”

Your eyebrows rose. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. How many punks could you possibly have hanging around?”

Being a decade older, Walter often made you laugh at his distaste for younger adults. You were the one exception, he’d always said, but all others were ‘punks.’ He feared the day Faye had to deal with boys your age, if she were ever so unlucky. “You met Jimmy?”

His fists kept clenching and unclenching, his shoulders somehow broadened, and the frown on his face made his eyebrows pinch and dip deep. “This idiot is really attached to you, Y/N.”

The more he spoke, the more you realized that ‘irritated’ may have been too sweet a word for what Walter really was. “He just doesn’t like his ego being bruised.”

Walter shrugged off his winter coat and tossed it on the couch as if it was still normal for him to do so, then ran a hand through the dark, messy curls you always loved. “Why the hell are you messing around with a--?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not messing around with him anymore.”

“Well, he seems to think it’s temporary.”

“It’s not.”

Crossing his arms, Walter shook his head like a disappointed parent would at their bratty, misbehaving child; the way you’d seen him look at Faye every time he found out she was spending too much time on social media. “Stay away from this guy, alright?”

“You would tell me to stay away from any guy,” You mumbled to yourself with a snort.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

“Do not give me attitude,” He snapped back. “You’re not being safe! If you were, maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation!"

Instantly, your shoulders stooped and the same old headache began to form. “Not this again, Walt. According to you I’m never safe unless I’m in your line of sight.”

“Yes!” He yelled, stomping your way, stopping just short of ramming his body through yours. “Now if only you could stay in it!”

“You can’t have eyes on me all day every day.”

“The hell I can’t!”

“You promised, Walter.” You let out a small whine. “I told you it was too hard for me to keep seeing you around wherever I went, and you promised you would stop watching me.” You wished it didn’t have to be that way. You wished seeing his face didn’t bring on such a potent punch of pain, but it did. Every single day when you left your apartment, you saw him standing by his car, a coffee cup in hand, unashamedly watching you like some creep. Eventually, you stopped looking in the direction you knew he would be, hoping you may forget he was there at all, but you always felt his eyes on you; such a strong stare, he might as well have been touching you. But you couldn’t take it. Months of your every move being tracked by the man you loved but couldn’t have was taking its toll, and so you begged him to leave you alone, to give you some relief.

“I did stop, and what happened? Barely a month after I made that stupid promise, some dumb, obsessed kid comes asking me to stalk you.”

You leaned back against the wall, growing more exhausted by the minute. “Well, with all the past practice you’ve had watching my every move, I’d say he was rather smart to pick you of all people. Shitty coincidence that he would though, since now I’m getting lectured.”

“I am not lecturing you.”

“Fine, but whatever this is you’re doing here, you’re out of line. My business is not your business anymore. It hasn’t been your business for the last five months.”

“Your little boyfriend came to me,” He said, pointing a finger at his chest, “so yes, it is my bus--”

“It is not!” You bit back. “You could’ve turned him away. You could’ve told him not to follow me around unless he was itching to get a restraining order, but you didn’t, did you? You took this opportunity to check up on me. Again!”

He stepped back, looking as if you had slapped him. His aggressive, guarded barrier of emotions cracked, and you could see the vulnerability he hadn’t shown since your relationship ended.

“Walter” You sighed, “You’re the one who stepped back. You’re the one who said it would be best if we weren’t in a relationship. You said I was a distraction and—”

“I said you’d be at risk, not that you’re a distraction.”

“It doesn’t make a difference.”

“Damn it, Y/N, it does! I only did it because I love you!” He said without hesitation, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You know that!”

You blinked. “No, I did not know that! You seriously broke up with me because you love me? That’s ridiculous.”

“I broke up with you to keep you safe, but I clearly suffered for nothing seeing as you put yourself in unsafe situations even without my association.”

You wanted to believe him, so bad, but people don’t leave behind the ones they love. After all, you loved him and the thought of leaving him made you nauseous, even now. When you were together, he may have appeared in love, but after a year he still hadn’t told you and you knew you’d let yourself get a little too hopeful. If you were honest with yourself, him breaking up with you was not as much of a shock as it should’ve been. But as you looked at him now, you could see that he truly believed you already knew.

“It doesn’t make sense that you would do that,” You said. “People don’t just break up with someone they love.”

“Fuck, Y/N, did I ever seem unhappy with you? Did I ever come across like I didn’t want you every second of every day? My every other thought was of you,” He said loudly, like a rant, and you were having a hard time figuring out who he was mad at. “So don’t try to tell me how I felt, and feel now. I still love you and that’s not going to change, but I can’t have criminals, murderers even, coming after you because they are pissed at me for hunting them down or having a case against them. It would take nothing for the average officer or detective to figure out that you and I were together even if we were hiding it. How hard do you think it would be for some psychopath?”

You hadn’t realized a tear slipped down your cheek until you tasted it at the corner of your lips. It was salty but somehow bitter and left a thick burning path along your skin. You quickly wiped it away. “Why didn’t you tell me this months ago?”

“Because, stubborn as you are, you wouldn’t have listened. You would have told me it didn’t matter.” He fell backwards onto the couch, closing his eyes and letting out a groan. “I try to do the right thing. I try to protect you, thinking everything will be fine as long as no one can link you to me, but I can’t…stay away.” His eyes met yours. “And then you beg me to, and it’s excruciating to obey. When I was able to watch over you, it reminded me that I did the right thing. You were safe and I could constantly be reassured of that.”

You walked over to him, your heart thumping with every step, then sat on your knees in front of him, placing your hand atop his own resting on his thigh. His other hand reached for your face and his fingers softly grazed your cheek before they tucked some hair behind your ear. “Walt—”

“That kid…Jimmy,” Walter interrupted as he began tracing the back of your hand with his thumb. “He thinks you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not.”

“You swear?”

“Of course, Walt. I told you--”

“I know,” He said with a single nod of his head. “I know. Maybe I’ll actually get some sleep now.”

You rested your cheek on the inner side of his knee and said, “You could sleep here.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” You bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t even dare to count how many times you’d had sex during the course of your relationship, but now, asking him not to leave made your pulse thrum in your ears.

He leaned forward and looked down at you. “Because I don’t think I can say no to you.”

“Then why would you bother trying,” You whispered without a second thought and slowly inched up on your knees so you could connect your lips with his.

It lasted only a second or two before he broke the kiss, grabbed you by the arm, and yanked you onto his lap. His grip at the back of your neck pulled your mouth to his as your hand slipped between your bodies and quickly started to undo his belt buckle.

“God, baby,” Walter groaned against your lips when you wrapped your fingers around his thick cock and released it from his jeans. He pulled the ratty, old t-shirt of his over your shoulders and softly settled his hands on your hips. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just…missed these,” He said, placing a kiss on one bare breast, then the other. “I missed you, so much.” He placed his lips to the curve of your neck, then met your eyes. “I miss you every fucking day.”

You kissed his forehead, and his arms tightened around you as you lifted your hips and sank down onto him. “I missed you too, Walter,” You said, but the words melted somewhere within the mix of your moans and his groans.

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

Tags: @agniavateira​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @summersong69​ @starlite13​ @mstgsmy​ @purplelove75​ @defffcc​ @the-soot-sprite​ @kissthatlifeaway​ @atomicpaperhairdouniversity​ @aquariuslavenderhoney​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @the-problem-of-leisure​ @meganwinchester1999​

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part 11: The Call”

We’re picking up right where we left off with Theo barging into the gallery to surprise the reader. We also find out who that special someone is that Sonny has his eye 👀

Thanks to everyone for their comments and feedback on this series! It means the world to me ❤️Also a huge thanks to @sass-and-suspenders for being my writing buddy and giving me the idea for the title. 

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains an assault scene and mention of rape.

“Theo, how did you get in?” you sputtered. “You shouldn’t be here! We’re closed.”

Theo scoffed, “Please, that ditzy coworker of yours always forgets to lock the door when she leaves.” He milled around the tiny studio, picking up a handcrafted ceramic vase. “And besides you never cared before.” He set the vase down and winked. 

You could tell that he was drunk. Apart from his disheveled appearance, the aroma of cheap whiskey radiated off his body and hit you like a brick wall. But there was something more, his presence filled you with a sense of foreboding. Nevertheless, you swallowed down your fear and held your ground. “That was then, this is now,” you sneered.

“Why can’t you forgive me? I made a mistake. I’m--”

“You broke us!” you interrupted. “My brother may have invited you to lunch, but I thought I made myself clear when we broke up that I never wanted to see you again.”

Theo’s face hardened. “It’s that older guy, isn’t it?” He looked you over from head to toe, like a predator studying its prey before it attacks. “Never took ya’ for a gold digger, but maybe being a starving artist all these years has made ya’ hard up for cash.” 

“Rafael is twice the man you’ll ever be,” you snarled.

“You sure about that? Ya’ know you and I had some hot times together.” He arched a brow and crudely licked his lips. “Can’t deny there was some definite sexual chemistry between us.”

As he stalked towards you closer and closer, you stepped back, blindly bumping into chairs and easels until you were pushed up against the wall. You were trapped. A chill rippled down your spine and your mouth went dry, panic rising in your throat.

Theo grabbed your wrist and yanked you closer to him. The acrid smell of alcohol combined with his cologne stung your nostrils. “Let go of me.” You struggled to free yourself from Theo’s grasp, but he only tightened his hold on you.

“Don’t be like that,” he cooed in a teasing manner. “How about a kiss for old times sake?” As he leaned in closer with his lips pursed, you finally wrenched free and slapped him hard. Your hand throbbed in pain. Between Theo and Sonny, you were getting tired of smacking people for disrespecting you.

Theo cruelly laughed, completely unphased by your attack. “You stupid bitch,” he growled and backhanded you across the face. The force of his slap caused you to stumble a few steps and run into a nearby table. 

In an instant, he was on top of you with a wild look in his eye. “I always get what I want,” he snarled. Theo hiked up your skirt with one hand while undoing his pants with the other. Bottles of paint toppled over in your struggle, saturating your clothes and the floor. Colors swirling together--angry reds, moody blues until they combined to a murky brown.

All of your self defense classes. All of the lectures your brother gave you about defending yourself-- hammer strike, heel palm strike. It all left your mind in that frantic, terrifying moment. Nevertheless, you fought back as hard you could, clumsily kicking and screaming. 

Luckily, your foot had fantastic aim and connected straight with his groin. Hard. Theo howled in pain and grabbed his crotch, giving you a chance to escape. You scrambled out from under him and collided into Phoebe who had just come back from the coffee shop when she heard you screaming. Coffee and pastries spilled onto the floor. 

Upon seeing your coworker, Theo pushed past you both and ran out of the gallery. But you could care less, you just clung to Phoebe, trembling. “Y/N? What happened? Are you alright?” 

You couldn’t speak. You could hardly catch your breath, on the brink of becoming hysterical. Phoebe took your hand and led you to a nearby chair. “I’m calling 911.” She reached into her purse for her phone when she stopped. “Do you want me to call your brother?”

“No!” you said in a panic. “Can you call his partner instead?” You gave Phoebe Rollins’ cell number. “Please tell her not to tell Sonny.” She nodded and dialed the number. 

While your coworker talked to Amanda, you stood up and walked around the studio. Paints, brushes, easels all covered the floor. And then you saw it. The painting you had been working on for Rafael, in a crumpled head, completely destroyed. Just like everything else in the room. In a matter of minutes, your sanctuary had become a crime scene.

*****

Sonny scaled the steps of One Hogan Place, balancing two cups of coffee in his hands. He took his familiar route, mumbling to himself. Passerbys assumed he was on bluetooth, but in reality he was deep in concentration, trying to come up with the perfect opening line. Unfortunately, the only thing he could come up with was “Hi.” 

After the disastrous lunch on Sunday, Sonny couldn’t stop thinking about what Bella had said. Maybe it was time to let go and take a chance. To put himself out there. As much as he hated to admit, you were happy with Barba. Maybe it was time for him to find his own happiness. 

He stood in front of Barba’s office door, taking a moment to collect himself. His heart hammered in his chest. His palms were clammy. Although he had been to Barba’s office countless times, this time was for a completely different reason.

From the moment Sonny met Carmen, he was hooked. She was beautiful, smart, and unbelievably kind. Not to mention, she knew how to handle Barba. She made him feel at ease. 

He never forgot when SVU had lost a big case, a rapist had been set free on a technicality. The squad and Barba had just broken the news to the survivor. She was only 14 and yet she had lived a lifetime. He would never forget the look on her face. In a way he felt completely responsible. If he had just tried harder, then they would have caught this monster.

That day Sonny was the last one to leave Barba’s office, feeling completely dejected. He thought of his sisters and his mother and how easily any of you could be a victim. He wondered if he was even cut out for this job. How many rapists would be set free during his career? How many victims would he have to disappoint? 

It was then that Carmen approached him. “Hang in there.” She patted him on the shoulder and gave him a warm smile. “They need you, Sonny. You’re one of the good guys.” In that moment, Carmen made Sonny feel safe and comforted. Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

Now all he had to do was work up the nerve to ask her out on a date. “It’s now or never, Carisi,” he thought before opening the door. There she was. The woman of his dreams, sitting at her desk, furiously typing and completely oblivious to the fact that Sonny was right in front of her. 

After several seconds, he cleared his throat and shouted, “Hey you!” Carmen jumped a mile high. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare ya’.” Being a ball of nervous energy, it was not his intention to scream at the poor woman. 

“It’s ok. I wasn’t paying attention.” Sonny nodded and rocked back on his heels, awkwardly standing in front of her. “Um, Mr. Barba is free, if you’d like to see him.”

“Actually. I’m here for you.” He handed over one of the cups of coffee in his hand. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Carmen graciously accepted the cup and took a sip. “I’ve been so busy working on these briefs that I haven’t had a chance to get any.”

Sonny beamed and began taking out of his pockets handfuls of assorted coffee creamers and sugar packets. “I...uh...I didn’t know how ya’ took your coffee so I got ya’ half n half, hazelnut, vanilla, soy milk, almond milk. I got sweet n’ low, regular sugar, sugar in the--”

“Thank you,” Carmen politely interrupted him and pushed all of the creamers and sugars now littering her desk off to the side. “That’s very sweet.”

Sonny turned beet red and took a sip of his coffee. Having been out of the dating game for so long, he was definitely rusty at this. “So...uh...I was just wonderin’ if maybe sometime--”

Just then Rafael burst out of his office. “Carmen, something’s come up and I have to leave. Please hold my calls and cancel all my meetings for today.” Before she could even reply, he brusquely walked past, bumping into Sonny and causing him to spill his coffee. Rafael shot daggers at him. 

Sonny furrowed his brow in confusion, watching Rafael walk out the door. Although Rafael had certainly glared at him before, this time was different. If looks could kill, Sonny would be dead on the floor. “Wonder what that was about?” he mused.

Carmen shook her head. “Don’t know. But it must be bad. I hope everything’s ok.” She then noticed the spilled coffee on Sonny’s shirt and opened her drawer, pulling out a stain removing pen for clothes. “May I?”  She walked over to Sonny and began to clean the coffee stain before it began to set. 

Being that close to Carmen, Sonny felt weak in the knees. He lost himself in her warm brown eyes and the honeyed sweet scent of her orange blossom perfume. “Thanks,” he managed to squeak out.

“It’s no problem,” she said with a shy smile. “With the amount of coffee Mr. Barba drinks, I keep a stash of these at my desk. Just in case of an emergency.” 

“So like I was saying earlier, I thought if you were free sometime that maybe you’d like to--”

Suddenly, a loud ring coming from his coat pocket cut him off. The universe was not working in his favor today. He pulled his phone out and saw Bella’s name flash across his screen. “Excuse me,” he told Carmen before answering the phone. “Hey Bella. Can I call ya’ back?” 

Bella let out a sob in response and Sonny felt his stomach drop. “Bella? What’s wrong?”

“Sonny,” she managed to say through her tears. “You need to get to the precinct. Now. Something’s happened with Y/N.”

Tag List:

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[buckys-black-dress]

a fine line, part one

a/n: did you really think i could control myself enough to NOT do an enemies to lovers professor!bucky fic? did you really think i have that much willpower? i fucking love this trope and it’s so cute and i definitely will be doing more of these. k bye! leave feedback if ya want, and as per usual, don’t copy/share w/o my consent! if you read this all, luv u tons <33! - ali

wc: 4.2k words

-

Walking into your office bright and early was always the worst part of your day. Not because you hated your job, or because you hated the students you taught, but because of your neighbor.

Being a college English professor was something you dreamed of since you were a young girl, and it was something that you thoroughly enjoyed doing every single day.

Even if it meant being up before 7 AM during the week. 

But something that never failed to irritate the absolute everliving fuck out of you when you walked in was Dr. James Barnes.

Dr. Barnes was an incredibly educated man. He could tell you anything about historical events. Any day, any year, any country. But there was something about him that gave off an air of arrogance and ‘I’m better than you because of all my friends in the staff.’ You only joined the English Department of the Avengers University about a year ago, but in your time there, you’ve already built a strong reputation for yourself. 

Unfortunately, you were a bit shy when it came to conversing with your coworkers. Your most prominent friends who you’ve made are Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the Russian Literature and Studies professors. They were the ones you gravitated to the most, naturally, and have been incredible friends since you started this job. 

While they’ve been friendly, you’ve been having a pretty difficult time breaking out of your shell. You tend not to really put yourself out there in terms of sociality because of how unfamiliar you were with the setting, but you were slowly building your confidence to truly get to know your coworkers.

Steve Rogers, one of your fellow English professors, came into your classroom on this gloomy, early Monday morning with a cup of coffee in both hands.

“Mornin, Dr. Y/L/N.” Steve says while placing your cup on your desk, taking a fine morning?” He asks, breaking into a grin.

Steve was contagious when it came to his happiness and uplifting mood, and you matched his smile with one of your own.

“I’m just peachy, Professor Rogers. How was your weekend?” You ask, opening your laptop and reaching for your lesson binder. 

“It was actually really nice. I got my grading and planning for the week done last week so I got to spend time with the fiancée.” He smiles, leaning back in his chair. 

“Oh, how nice! What’s her name again...? I keep forgetting, forgive me.” You laugh, failing to recall the name of Steve’s beloved.

“No worries, Y/L/N.” Steve laughs at your aloofness, “it’s Peggy. She actually works as a military strategist.” He says with a proud smile, which you took notice of rather quickly. 

“That’s really interesting... I would never even be capable of doing anything with the military.” You giggle, making sure you have everything ready for your lesson today. 

“So... Y/N.” At the mention of your first name, your head shoots up in concern. Was something wrong? “Do you have anyone special at home?” Steve asks.

Your mouth felt dry at the question. You know Steve probably wasn’t trying to pry, but you couldn’t help feel yourself shrink under the question. 

“I- uh, no. Unless my cat counts.” You try to lighten the mood and lessen the speeding of your heart. 

Steve takes notice of your bright blush and embarrassment. To be fair, you were embarrassed. You were well into your twenties, a successful woman with a stable job, but little to social life. Or love life, at that. 

“You have a cat?! Let me see ‘em!” Steve exclaims, trying to deflect from the previous question. 

“Oh! This is her...” You say, flipping a frame facing you on your desk to Steve. In the picture frame was a beautiful, tiny black cat. “Her name is Lucy.” You tell him, smiling fondly at the image. 

“How old is she?” Steve asks.

“She actually just turned a year old. I thought it would be nice to have some company in my apartment when I moved here. I was getting a bit lonely.” You tell him, reminiscing on when you first adopted Lucy.

“She’s a real sweetheart.” Steve’s not able to wipe his grin away while looking at the furry animal. 

“Oh, you don’t even know. She’s a spoiled little thing, you should see her when I leave in the mornings.” You scoff, looking back to your checklist on your computer.

“Y’know, Bucky has a cat, too. I think he would like to know that someone else around here has one, the rest of us all have dogs.” Steve mentions casually, but your brows furrow in confusion.

“I-I’m sorry, I know I haven’t been the most sociable person here since I arrived, but... who’s Bucky? I don’t think I’ve met someone with that name...” You search your brain for any recollection of meeting someone named Bucky, but you were coming up completely short. 

“Oh! Bucky is what James usually goes by... I mean, normally people don’t call him James, just Bucky or Barnes as nicknames, y’know?” Steve clarifies.

“Oh, that makes sense,” you say with a slight laugh, “Dr. Barnes and I haven’t interacted very much since I started here... I get the feeling he’s not too fond of me.” You say with a smile to not make Steve uncomfortable. You knew the two of them were friends, as they were always chatting in the professor’s lounge and cracking jokes. 

“Bucky...? Not fond of you? Did something happen between you two that I wasn’t aware of? You’re not unlikable or anything...” Steve wonders out loud, trying to understand. 

“I-I’m not too sure, Professor Rogers.” You try to stop the conversation here before things got too blown out of proportion. “I hate to cut this short, b-but I’ve got a lecture in ten minutes, so I should get going.” You tell him curtly, gathering your things into your tote and seeing Steve out of your office. 

“I’ll catch ya later, Y/L/N!” Steve says as he walks in the direction of his office down the hall.

“See you, Rogers!” You say back, making your way out of the building to the next. 

Just as you locked your office shut, you see a head poking out of the office next yours.

You keep your head down, not really wanting to engage in any aggressive banter right before your lecture. 

But of course, Dr. Barnes had other ideas. And while you really didn’t have the time, Barnes definitely did. 

“Mornin’, Professor Y/L/N! Already late to your first class of the week?” James calls from his spot as you walk in the opposite direction to the exit of the building. 

“I’m actually perfectly on time, Dr. Barnes. And it’s Doctor! Have a good day!” You turn back briefly for about two seconds to meet his gaze, and walk into the biting morning air, ready for the long day ahead.

Dr. Barnes, damn you for making my days ten times longer than usual.

-

Going home was always your favorite part of the day. Your apartment was your safe place, your place where you could drop the professionalism and not worry about having to interact with other people. 

Most of your nights were spent reading, watching movies, learning new recipes, and whatever you could do to take some time to yourself. Lucy was roaming the kitchen while you were trying to perfect your latest baked good. 

As Lucy intertwines herself between your legs, you look down, making sure you don’t trip over yourself.

“Luce, you have a whole plaything set up over there, why do you insist on putting yourself right ther-” Just as you were scolding your kitten, your phone rings from its’ spot in front of you on the counter.

“Hello?” You say into the speaker.

“Y/N! How are you?” Natasha’s voice came through the speakers, making you pull the phone away from your ear. 

“I-I’m good, Natasha. What’s up?” You ask, wondering why she was calling you since she was very clearly not at home. 

“W-Well,” she lets out a laugh with commotion in the background, “a few of us are down at the bar a couple blocks away from your place, I think.” Another round of ruckus in the back, “would you like to join us?”

“O-Oh... who else is there?” Your voice came through softly, making your nervousness evident through the phone.

“Just a few people in our group... Wanda, Banner, Stark, Rogers, Wilson, Odinson...” Natasha’s voice trails off, like she was still going to mention someone else, but was holding her tongue.

“Oh... Uhm, I was just in the middle of a recipe, but I think I could swing by for a bit...” You look down at your mixing bowl, covering it and placing it in the refrigerator. 

Lucy scurries through to your closet once you open it, searching for something to wear, because your current situation was quite frankly sweats. Choosing a black turtleneck and jeans, you dab on a little bit of makeup and pull on some boots, making your way to your car and warming it up. 

Once you made it to the bar, you were met with a stench that only bars have, one you haven’t smelt in years. College was fun while it lasted, though. 

The first person you spot is Wanda, who’s sitting at the bar waiting for drinks, you presume, so you make your way towards her.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you came! Natasha said you were, but we weren’t sure, you don’t normally do, but it’s perfect! I’m so excited, we never hang out too much, you know? And-” Wanda was rambling, and although you could tell she didn’t want to offend you, it stung. You know you haven’t been out with your coworkers, but it was just one of the effects of your social anxiety. 

“It’s okay, Wanda. I know, but I’m gonna try to come out more... I think it’s time.” You tell her with a small smile. 

“That’s great, Y/N. I’m glad, you deserve to let loose and have fun every once in a while, you know. It’s okay to relax.” She pats your shoulder, and you can feel her warmth in it, both physically and emotionally. It was nice.

“I- Yeah, thanks, Wanda. Do you need a hand with the drinks?” You ask, seeing the two full trays. 

“Yes! If you don’t mind, we’re just back there. We got you a drink too, but we didn’t really know what you liked so we just played it safe.” She explains, pointing to the Old Fashioned on the tray.

“Oh! You didn’t have to...” You trail off, placing the tray down on the table. 

“Hi, Y/N! Didn’t know you’d be joining us tonight, good to see ya!” Steve says while scooting further down the booth seat to make room for you, everyone else welcoming you. 

“Thanks for inviting me, guys. I guess I really did need to get out of the house.” You say while sipping on your drink. 

As the chatter around the table starts again, you quickly end up finishing your drink, caught up in the atmosphere around you and how you were having such a good time. 

Maybe this isn’t so bad. I should do this more often.

And as this thought came to your head, Natasha sees that you’ve finished your drink, motioning to the empty glass.

“Need another, Y/N?” She points to the bar, “I’ll come with, I need one too.” 

You nod, scooting out of the booth.

“I’ll just have a glass of red,” you tell the bartender, Natasha giving you an odd look, “I still have to drive home later..” You laugh when she hums in realization. 

While waiting, a tall guy with dark hair is already chatting up Natasha. And just when you didn’t think your night could get any weirder, you feel someone come up next to you.

“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here all by yourse-” But the voice was cut short as soon as you turned your head towards whoever it was. As soon as your mind recognized the face, your eyes widened, met with equally wide, ocean blue eyes.

“Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice was filled with confusion and mild disgust, ouch. 

“I-I was invited... By Natasha...” Your voice was meeker than you wanted it to sound, because who the hell was Bucky to question why you were here? 

“Oh. I didn’t know it was you, for the record.” Bucky states, watching in satisfaction as you look down at your wineglass that the bartender placed in front of you. She gave you a sympathetic look, turning back to another customer.

“I-Yeah, I figured, Barnes. Sorry to disappoint you, I suppose.” You grab the glass and walk back to the table, trying to not look as though someone just called you ugly to your face. 

“Y’know, I don’t quite understand why you can’t just let her be.” Bucky turns his gaze to Natasha.

“I just... don’t like her. It’s as simple as that, Nat. She walks around acting all high and mighty, like she isn’t equal to us.” He reasons, trying to make his point. 

“Bucky... Maybe if you took five seconds to get rid of that ego of yours, you’d know the kind of person she is. And she is most definitely not as pretentious as you’ve made her out to be. She’s a human being, just like the rest of us here.” Natasha finishes defending you, turning back to the table, leaving Bucky even more confused than before. 

-

As the night went on, you very evidently avoided anything that had to do with Bucky. If he came by the table, you would waver your gaze elsewhere, and if he initiated the conversation, you would keep quiet. Although you knew it was probably the easiest way to avoid conflict with him, you could tell you were folding in on yourself. 

And Wanda and Natasha most definitely noticed. 

Every time Bucky spoke, it was like you would disconnect. Focus your mind elsewhere, filling your head with thoughts completely unrelated to your current atmosphere. 

“Y/N, what do you have planned for the holiday break?” Sam’s voice pipes up, trying to include you in the conversation. 

“Oh, uhm... Not much, I usually stay at home and make myself a nice meal. Take some time to myself, y’know.” You smile at the thought of the holiday season. You were completely ready to take the time off to catch up on self care. 

“Oh, no family to go see?” Steve’s voice asks from across the booth.

“Uh... no, not really.” You try let out a light laugh at the answer, trying to not show the stiffness of your body at the topic at hand. 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable...” Steve says, trying to rectify the situation.

“No! You’re completely okay, Steve.” You reassure him, not wanting to make things even more uncomfortable. 

“Well, now that we’re on the topic,” Bucky’s voice breaks the silence, “Y/N, how come we know, like... nothing about you? You’ve been at the university for a bit now and this is the first time we’re seeing you outside of work.” Bucky’s expression was smug as could be, and you were really fighting the urge to cry right now. 

“Bucky, leave her alone.” Wanda’s voice was coming as a warning, daring Bucky to go even further.

“No, I’m not trying to sound rude or anything,” Bucky keeps pushing, “but you just seem to act like we don’t deserve your time, like you’re better than all of us or something.” 

“Buck, that’s enough.” Steve’s voice was like ice. “Just leave her alone, for God’s sake.” 

The table falls silent, your eyes fixed on your hands in your lap.

“I-I’m sorry, guys...” Your voice was holding on by a thread. “I think I should go, thank you so much for inviting me out with you guys. Have a good night.” And with that, you slip out of the booth, disappearing out the front door at an exceptional speed. 

The rest of the table was watching Bucky with several emotions, including mild disgust, anger, and hopelessness. 

When will this stop?

- 

That night when you return to Lucy, you were drained. Tired. Exhausted. Ever since you were a child, it seemed that you couldn’t outgrow your shyness and quietness. The only place that made you feel like you belonged was your lecture hall. And although you tried, several times, to overcome this horrid quality of yours, it seemed that you could never escape it. 

It just always came back.

And you know how it made you seem to others. Pretentious, snobby, it gave you an air of a superiority complex.

When in reality, it was exactly the opposite. You were so afraid to speak sometimes that you just choose not to. You didn’t want to be judged or ridiculed for saying the wrong things, so you thought it was better to keep quiet.

Becoming a professor definitely helped you break out of that shell a little bit, but it never really translated outside of the classroom.

Flopping down on your grey comforter, you realize that you couldn’t continue to feel like this. It was years and years of meekness, of keeping to yourself. That was the reason why you were almost 30 with no boyfriend, no fiancé, and certainly no husband or child. 

You knew you had to make a change, but you didn’t quite know how to. But that’s something you’ll have to worry about later, because you were close to passing out right now.

-

The following week had been... different. You were spending less of your lunch hours in your office, alone, and finally accepting Natasha and Wanda’s consistent invites to eat with them. It took them by surprise at first, but they welcomed you with open arms.

It was now Thursday, and you were in Wanda’s office, digging into your pasta salad that you’d packed.

“So, Y/N, just out of curiosity...” Natasha speaks through her lunch, “What suddenly made you want to join us? I mean, after last week, I wouldn’t be surprised if you never wanted to see us again.” She laughs a breath out, clearly feeling guilty for last weeks’ events. 

“Well,” you supply after a moment to think, “I realized something. After James... spoke his mind, I guess you could say, I realized that he was right, in a way.”

“Wha-” Wanda interjected but you continued to explain.

“I realized that I had removed myself so far from the people that I see every single day so much that they don’t even know me. And it’s been like this most of my life... I usually just keep to myself, but I think that even though I’m terrified of speaking to people I don’t know, it’ll never get better unless I actually try.” You release, feeling a metaphorical weight lift off your chest. 

“Well, Y/N, I’m glad you finally chose to let us in... But Bucky was still an asshole, and totally out of line. We know we can’t speak for him, but we’re all really sorry for what he said... He doesn’t even know you, and he shouldn’t have made those assumptions about you.” Wanda says after a moment of silence. 

“Thank you, guys.” You smile, gathering your things and standing up. “I have a lecture to prepare for, but... thank you for everything, both of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had good people in my life that I can call my friends.” You’re shocked at the fact that you feel two sets of arms wrap around you at your confession, holding you tight.

“Y/N, you don’t ever have to thank us for being your friends... you deserve good things, never forget that.” Natasha tells you, and for the first time, you actually believe it. 

“Okay, I actually have to go now, but I’ll see you two later?” You ask, already halfway out the door.

“Yeah, we’ll text you!” Wanda yells back, and you’re making your way back to your office to gather your belongings for the lecture.

But of course, you could never get ready for a class without Barnes popping out and giving you a little pep talk.

“Afternoon, Y/L/N. Getting ready to bore another groups of kids to death?” He asks, a smug look on his face with a mug held in his hand. 

“Actually, Dr. Barnes, I happen to have excellent students who truly enjoy being in my class, being that I don’t teach any 101s, that’s more Steve’s part. But thanks for the concern.” You tell him, shutting the door behind you and letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

You’ve never spoken to anyone like that in your life before. 

And James was equally shocked at your attitude, standing in his doorway, dumbfounded with his mouth hanging open. He was staring at your shut door, wondering where the quick with came from.

He begrudgingly turns back into his own office, truly trying to process what just occurrfaxed.

While you slung your bag over your shoulder, there was an infectious smile gracing your face, proud of not being his doormat for the first time.

That day, class was even better than usual, and you even let your students out early, telling them to enjoy the rest of their day. 

And that night, you went home feeling the best you’ve felt in a long time.

-

You went into the university the next week feeling refreshed from you girl’s weekend that you hosted at your apartment, inviting Natasha and Wanda, and even another professor named Carol who you’ve recently befriended as well- to unwind and have fun with. 

And as you swing the usually locked door of your office open with ease, your eyebrows furrowed. 

I remember locking it when I left on Friday...

But the only thing that seems to out of place is the iced americano and chocolate croissant sitting on your desk.

On the bag of the croissant, there was writing that read, ‘Thought I’d make it up to you.’

Who the hell would go out of their way to bring me breakfast? You thought to yourself. And they know my usual...

You honestly assumed it could’ve been one of the girls, but you don’t know what they could’ve been making it up to you for. Maybe girl’s night? But still, everyone did a good job of bringing things with them to compensate for you hosting. 

But nothing explains the door being unlocked. But you weren’t really afraid. You didn’t keep anything too valuable in there anyways, taking most papers home with you, and keeping classified files sealed in the file cabinet. 

It didn’t really scare you, but you truly wondered who would go out of their way to do something like this for you.

The rest of your day went by pretty quickly, and it was oddly quiet. Specifically from the office next door.

It’s now 5 PM, and not a peep from James.

It unsettled you, to say the least. First the breakfast and unlocked office, and now not a word from him. 

It was weird.

You spotted him talking to Steve earlier in the day, but you haven’t seen too much of him either.

Although, there was a staff meeting tonight, so you’d definitely see him then.

As you made your way to the designated conference room with Natasha, you see Dean Fury waiting for everyone to arrive. He greets you with his usual disgruntled look, which you’ve learned to not take personally over the time you’ve spent here at Avengers University.

Slowly, everyone made it in, taking a seat. 

“Good evening, staff. I hope you’ve all had a productive day thus far, but there’s a reason I’ve called you here tonight. I have a proposal for all of you.” Fury explains, making you all curious. 

“I’ve decided, after a few months of toying with the idea, I’d like to do partner teaching. Each and every one of you will be assigned a counterpart, and you will both help each other in making the others’ teaching environment better. Here at AU, we’re committed to always pushing the envelope, and that means that sometimes, you’ll have to get uncomfortable. And if you’re wondering, there’s no way out of this. You all have to do it. Each one of you has received an email to your .edu inbox with your partner assignment and further instructions on how this will be done.” A pause overtook the room as everyone pulled out their phones to check their emails. “Happy teaching, we start next week, folks.” Fury finishes, exiting the room. 

Meanwhile, you couldn’t believe your eyes when they saw the opened email. 

Dr. Y/L/N, you’ve been selected to teach alongside Dr. Barnes.

Oh fuck no.

And the look he was sharing with you from across the table confirmed he was thinking the exact same thing. 

-

a/n pt.2: ooooooh cliffhangerrr!!! holy shit y’all this bitch long asf. don’t worry, part 2 will be coming soon! comment and lmk what you thought down below! this might have a part 3, i haven’t decided yet !! lol, anyways, i have class in an hour, so bye! if you made it this far, i seriously love and. appreciate you!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

H2M Series Masterlist

EDIT (5/2/2021): I am heavily editing this series. I appreciate your patience!

—————————————————

"You know the greatest danger facing us is... ourselves, and irrational fear of the unknown. There is no such thing as the unknown. Only things temporarily hidden, temporarily not understood." - Captain Kirk

—————————————————

Since the dawn of man, we have loved. Scribbled between the adenine, cytosine, guanine, and thymine is some aspect of a soul beyond the scientific that allowed us the freedom to find someone to spend our lives with.

Love confounds, breaks every boundary and sense of logic. But above all, it makes sense.

I had loved before. A messy and impure collection of memories that I often tried to forget. There are some things, however, that demand to be felt. Things powerful enough to weather the storm and triumph through the drought that follows.

I did not seek out love. She came to me in the middle of a crowded bar. Love introduced herself to me with a smile and a secret, and gave no opportunity for questions.

We should have known better than to trust that things would work out, but we shared enough of her not to care.

We would make it, she said. It was only natural. It made perfect sense.

I did not seek out love, but I found her. And I never let her go.

—————————————————

"You know what the first rule of flying is? Love. You can learn all the math in the 'verse, but you take a boat in the air you don't love, she'll shake you off just as sure as the turning of the worlds. Love keeps her in the air when she oughta' fall down, tells you she's hurtin' 'fore she keens. Makes her a home." - Captain Malcolm Reynolds

—————————————————

Underneath the cut are chapter summaries for each part of my first series, Here to Misbehave.

Part One | The Nightclub Spencer meets a girl he can’t get enough of at the nightclub, then quickly realizes she is not supposed to be there.

Part Two | The Mayflower Spencer and Reader spend their first night together at the Mayflower.

Part Three | The Handcuffs Spencer decides to return to a previous tryst.

Part Four | The Metro Spencer and Reader go on their first date. 

Part Five | The Observatory Reader (accidentally) blows off a text from Spencer for another guy. Later, Spencer takes her for a second date.  

Part Six | The Fight Something’s up with Spencer and Derek shows up at his door. The couple has their first fight. 

Part Seven | The Aftermath Reader challenges Spencer to come find her at one of the frat houses; Jealous!Spencer makes his first appearance

Part Eight | The Promise The couple agrees to start over - the kind of sort of right way. Derek has some words for his friend, and when Reader comes over unannounced, Spencer tells her he’s sick.

Part Nine | The Movies Spencer is distracted at the movie theater. Reader meets Penelope, and Jealous Reader makes her first appearance. 

Part Ten | The Liar Spencer can’t talk to Reader because he doesn’t want his coworker to know. Reader finds something terrifying in Spencer’s figurative and literal closet.

Part Eleven | The Sunshine She tries to get him to open up. The two have yet another difficult talk, and try to trust each other again.

Part Twelve | The Homework A week later, Reader tries to reconnect with Spencer.

Part Thirteen | The Picnic Spencer finally meets Reader’s roommate. After Spencer lectures Reader on the dangers of picnics, the two face a different kind of danger at the bank.

Part Fourteen | The Bank Separated and terrified, Spencer and Reader rely on their unique skills to survive. The team, minus Penelope and Derek, wonder about the strange girl in the bank.

Part Fifteen | The Loneliness At the hospital there are many tears to be shed, but even more questions to be asked.

Part Sixteen | The Cemetery Reader is trying to go back to her old life, which includes the life she led before she met Spencer.

Part Seventeen | The Father Spencer is concerned about Reader’s growing impulsiveness, but Reader is the one who gets a call from JJ asking if she could come get her boyfriend.

Part Eighteen | The Mother Reader finds more productive ways to spend her time, including volunteering at the local inpatient hospitals.

Part Nineteen | The Appointment Reader and Spencer share the night together following her doctor’s appointment.

Part Twenty | The Mistake Reader lies to Spencer.

Part Twenty One | The Drop Unfortunately, a new case couldn’t have come at a worse time for Reader, who’s starting to feel that dysphoria Spencer’s always warning her about.

Part Twenty Two | The Case Things are changing for the better.

Part Twenty Three | The Lecture Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her.

Finale | The Question It’s Halloween, and there are a lot of things on Spencer’s mind.

Epilogue | The End

[asian-hero]

Aizawa x Reader, where Aizawa's a full-on gentleman to his S/O? I can't see him actually being a 100% gentleman but the thought is wholesome- Please and thank you!

A/N: Hi I made this slightly more as a doting partner rather than a gentleman, I hope that’s alright! I feel like I took a few liberties with this one, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless

Also, he’s literally a reincarnation of Kakashi Hatake, aka the love of my life, so it’s safe to say that I love this man with all of my heart

Summary: Aizawa Shouta was not, by any stretch, a gentleman. All of his coworkers knew it, his students knew it, and he didn’t try to deny it. That’s why, when you stop in to drop off your forgetful husband’s lunch, the entirety of U.A. is shocked to see their scruffy, irritable teacher, turn into the worlds largest sap

Words: 1,651

If you were to ask anyone to describe Aizawa Shouta in one word, the most common answers you’d get would be sleepy, apathetic, reserved, or stern. But, there was no way, that any student, staff member, or civilian, would describe him as a gentleman. 

They weren’t wrong, per se. After all, Shouta was a rather gruff man, a little rough around the edges, and certainly unkempt. To an outsiders perspective, it almost seemed that he was unfit to teach, with how many hopeful students he’d expelled in the past. It also didn’t help that he seemed more like that hung over uncle at a family gathering that no one wanted to invite, but felt obligated to and didn’t think would show up. Though, to his students, they could see a bit of his softer side, no where near what you saw on a daily basis, but they saw that he wasn’t the man that everyone said he was. Even they could see how the seemingly grumpy man had a paternal instinct when it came to his students, albeit a little begrudgingly, but still, there were times where he acted more so like a father than a teacher. 

Despite this, if you asked Shouta’s students about whether or not they believed the man could be a typical doting partner, it’d be a hard no from all of them. It just, didn’t look right when they imagined it. How could their typically cold and abrasive teacher be a loving and doting partner when it came to his romantic relationships. Actually, how could their teacher get into a relationship in the first place? It didn’t seem possible to them. 

So, you can imagine the looks on the entirety of the U.A. faculty and students when you stepped onto school grounds, Eri’s little hand in one of yours, and a lunch box in the other. While walking onto the campus, you could feel the stares of everyone burning into the back of your skull, as if trying to figure out who you were. It wasn’t surprising, of course, as you and Shouta had never been too flashy and open about your relationship. Not only because it would put a rather large target on your back, but also because it was just the way the two of you were. You were okay with keeping your relationship quiet. However, just because the two of you kept your relationship quiet, didn’t mean that you were going to let your husband leave his lunch at home for what seemed like the twentieth time. No, if he was going to be forgetful, then you were going to deal with it like any loving wife would, by bringing it to him. Besides, he did say that he wanted you to come in at some point to talk more about rescue missions, so why not kill two birds with one stone?

A small tug on your hand pulled you out of your thoughts. Looking down at the small girl, you squeezed her hand gently.

“What’s up?”

“It’s Deku!” She stated, pointing towards a green haired kid.

Following her line of sight, you saw a face you recognized very well. It was the kid that Shouta would always talk about. The “problem child,” he called him. The one who broke all of his fingers in a fight during the sports festival. He seemed to notice the two of you, as he broke out into a smile, waving at Eri while walking towards the two of you.

“Eri!” He exclaimed, kneeling down to her height, “It’s nice to see you!”

While the little girl ecstatically greeted the boy, even pulling her hand out of your own grasp, you couldn’t help the small giggle that came out of you. It seemed to cause the boy, Deku, to finally look up at you. Standing up, he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Ah, sorry about that! I didn’t realize you were with her,”

You shook your head, your smile still playing on your lips. “No need to worry,” Extending your hand, you introduced yourself, “I’m (Y/N), it’s a pleasure to meet the hero Eri’s always talking about.”

He seemed to grow even more embarrassed, if that were even possible. Shaking your hand, he introduced himself as Midoriya Izuku, though he said that Deku was just as fine. Grabbing Eri’s hand once more, you pursed your lips, looking towards the gigantic school that seemed to dwarf the three of you. Looking back at the boy, you smiled.

“Hey, you’re in class 1-A, right?” It was merely a formality, you knew he was in 1-A.

When he nodded his head, you spoke once more, “Could you show me where it is? I need to speak with your teacher,”

It didn’t take much from you to get Deku to agree with you. After all, since you were already on campus, and had a guest pass, he figured that you were safe enough. As the three of you walked down the halls, you made small talk, asking about how his classes were, how difficult his teacher is, and many other school related things. You even heard from him about how he made candy apples for Eri one time, and although you already knew that story, it was nice to hear about how hard he worked to make the school festival enjoyable for her. 

By the time you had reached the classroom, it was nearly time for class to start. As you entered the classroom, you were taken aback by how noisy the class was. All of the students seemed to get along fairly well, with the exception of a few individuals, but even then, they seemed to be dragged into some conversations. When Deku went to take his seat, you saw as he was bombarded by two girls, most likely curious as to who he just walked in with. You decided that, rather than to stand in the middle of the doorway, you’d take a seat next to Shouta’s desk. Pulling Eri into your lap, the two of you waited for the man to come in, though it didn’t take long for him to enter. 

About five minutes after your arrival, the door to 1-A had opened once more, revealing your tired-looking husband. The entire class went silent, and it took him about ten seconds to realize that no, he wasn’t dreaming, and yes, you really were here, in his classroom. Walking towards you, he kneeled down, checking you over.

“Are you alright?”

You tilted your head to the side, a confused look on your face. “Of course I am, why do you ask?”

Starring at you for a few seconds, he sighed, placing his hands on your knees. “You never come here, I got worried.”

Letting out a noise of realization, you grinned. Pulling out the lunch box from underneath your chair, you held it out towards him. “You forgot your lunch, again,” As he took the box, you frowned in mock annoyance, which Eri copied, “This is like, the twentieth time, Shouta. You need to take better care of yourself.”

He rolled his eyes, but an uncharacteristic smile appeared. “You’re one to talk. It’s supposed to be cold today, yet here you are, no coat, and in a short sleeved shirt.”

Before you could even rebut what he said, you felt his scarf fall over your shoulders. Looking back at him, you raised an eyebrow. He took a few more seconds to make sure that you were covered before he spoke.

“Can’t have you getting sick now, then I’d have to do all the work.”

You scoffed, waving a hand at him, dismissing him. He let out a laugh, before standing back up and rubbing your shoulder.

“You can stay, maybe do a lecture a little later. Oh, and if you need anything, just ask me, okay?”

When you agreed, he looked towards his class, getting ready to begin the day.

“Alright, let’s get started—“ He stopped himself, letting out a long and tired sigh, “What is it, Kaminari?”

“Who’s the lady?”

The rest of the class seemed to perk up at the question, looking both at you and Shouta. Deciding to poke fun at your husband, you stood up, made sure that Eri was comfortable sitting, and then stood next to him.

Waving your hand, you introduced yourself once again. “Hello, I’m (Y/H/N), but as a civilian I go by Aizawa (Y/N),” You paused as gasps of disbelief filled the air, “I came to bring my husband’s lunch and to talk to you about rescue missions.”

As the class began to get progressively louder, questioning why this was the first time hearing of you, and how no one recognized such a popular hero, you turned towards your now embarrassed husband. Wrapping your arms around him, you gave him a small peck on the cheek.

“Sorry about that, I just can’t help myself.”

Once again, he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t seemed to be mad, so you supposed that was a good sign. Before going back to settle his class, he rubbed his hands along your waist, something he did when he wanted to be near you, but also wanted to be subtle about it.

“Thank you for lunch. Why don’t we share it during break later?”

When you smiled, he felt as if there were a million butterflies that were bursting from his heart. As you went back to sitting down, Shouta offered you his sleeping bag, zipping up you and Eri before shutting up his class.

Yes, Aizawa Shouta was by no means, a gentleman. It was an indisputable fact about the U.A. teacher and pro hero. However, if you were to ask his class, they’d tell you that not only was he a great teacher, but he was a doting partner as well.

[starrysupercell]

UwU the rest of the outline at per request. @lumpy-veev (still unfinished but it's okay! This should be thought of as a rough draft.) 💙

🦝 "RaR 3" or "Breaking Point" 🐍

It would be an unofficial Brawl, which is not allowed, but it happens, and what can you even do?

I see the two as basically ignoring each other's presence upon finding out that the other is there. Of course, as much as they won't admit it, it's making them think of. Everything.

This leads to even more on edge tense atmosphere whenever they would cross each other's path, because even if it’s a big park, you can only avoid someone for so long, especially when you happen to have common associates. (the Coworkers, Tara, etc.)

It doesn’t help they have growing animosity and take every little thing personally for every interaction.. and it’s only been a month or two.

Rumors begin to pick up around the park-- Just a little chatter at the bar. Just a little observation that those two sure have something between them huh? The gossiper is shushed, because did you forget who runs the place? his connection to Byron?

Luckily, the bartender didn’t seem to hear. He was busy cleaning glasses. The topic’s changed. customers continue to come and go.

One who arrives is Piper, who sits down at the bar. It’s busy, so she waits patiently for Barley to get her usual. (he’s good at that.) He sets down a coaster and the glass in front of her, but instead of a greeting and bustling away this time, he sticks around.

“Byron is well on his way to becoming a topic of interest around here...” he tells her.

She leans forward with a smile. “What have they said? And who, for that case?”

He explains what he heard, and omits the names.

Piper thoughtfully considers this. She had noticed this, but hadn’t chalked it up to a personal history, just conflict of interest. (byron was well off, belle was a thief. he would be cautious) Now that she knew, she wanted every drop of intel.

“I can talk to him. we wouldn’t want our dear coworker being talked about, do we?”

“I do not.” Barley replied, tipping his hat to bid her goodbye as he steps away to another client. He lets Piper take care of this, because he likes letting people come to him if they want to talk, and he feels that Byron would have already approached him if that were the case.

~

So, it’s another one of their patented teatime tête-à-têtes.

Piper skirts around the issue before dropping the news of whispers about the two.

But Byron doesn’t humor the topic, and refuses to talk about it.

Piper cheerfully pokes at him. “Crossed paths? Did you know her before the Park? maybe previous business associates? She robbed you, but you had good insurance, and one day she tricked you? Ooh~ Former flames-?"

And then Byron stands up and is about to leave wordlessly until that last suggestion processes bc if he doesn’t clarify now, ugh that’s gonna be what Piper thinks is plausible (kind of, bc he gay af) and he does NOT want that to be a thing.

“She’s a relative,” he says with so much distaste before he leaves that Piper is even more intrigued. but at the same time, there’s something that tells her she shouldn’t fan the fire any further.

they’ve had their share of back and forths, and it’s been a blue moon since something had gotten him so upset that he just up and leaves.

she drops it, and as the #1 gossipmonger of the park, the hushed whispers of “mystery between byron and belle?” is completely stamped out with a dismissive attitude and several “Really? I didn’t notice anything.”

If Byron really and truly didn't want this around the park, she'd honor that.

~

Of course, with QD Edgar on occasional trips with the Gang, that’s the biggest connection the sibs have at the moment.

The first time Edgar name dropped Byron, Belle froze and listened to 2.47 more seconds of the teen's rambles before telling him to get a move on around camp and quit yapping.

Edgar didn't notice this first time around and grumpily went about his way.

But I'm sure there's one thing or another that makes Edgar talk about his dad manager again, and one thing that will really piss Belle off, is comparison.

Tara, who notices the shift in mood, puts herself in between Edgar and Belle and swiftly soothes things over. She suggests getting on with the plan they have (already knowing what Belle will respond with).

"heist cancelled," Belle states, rearing up Elodie and galloping away from camp. (She usually winds down on her own after celebrating a big heist, but never before-- and never had called it quits at that.)

Edgar is put off. Tara muses that it's nothing he could help...

On her own, Belle just contemplates everything. Hours. It brings up familiar memories of being up on the rooftop with her head buried into her arms and knees feeling terrible.

Except now she's more than grown, with her share of things to be proud of and great memories she forged on her own. She's not curled up on herself anymore. She's staring to the long distance of the desert-- her home-- traveling with ease.

That stupid rooftop section of her life is nothing more than a fraction of her well-lived life.

It doesn't make her feel better.

Yet another thing Byron ruins for her without even trying.

She needed a drink.

~

Not wanting to head back to her camp for the night, and not in the mood to try nabbing some good drink, Belle simply walks into the bar and orders something.

Barley treats her the same as any Brawler, despite what he now knows about her.

As far as he was concerned, she came in there as a customer. And as long as she paid, he saw no problem in serving her...

She drinks quietly, and he keeps an eye on her intake.

And eventually, just like with any other customer with something heavy on their mind and enough drinks, words flow easier.

She doesnt use names, and keeps terms vague. Speaks angrily of her parents. Calls the brother a "dumbass of a pushover."

Now, it isnt like he associates Byron as a (pardon his french) 'dumbass' in any way, but it's the way she uses it that makes Barley connect the dots. The tone wasn't as bitter. Almost fond. Almost.

He lightly prods for a little bit more insight, and she gives up a little more as she drinks.

Unlike the other two members of his Trio, it wasn't in his nature to gossip, so this would stay between them.

Barley listens, because that's what she needs right now. Not advice, not interjections or lectures or deflecting the subject. Just someone to listen.

Eventually he cuts her off before she gets too inebriated (and probably causes trouble.)

{I AM going to write this scene out in depth. And cry while doing so.}

~

On the other side, after the season and back at the Gift Shop, Edgar is 🤔🤔 over that incident. He considers talking with Colette but 1) she's as mad as a Colette could be at the fact that he hung out with the NEW BRAWLER and TARA and didnt bother getting her ANYTHING. and 2) tbh she's a blabbermouth.

Byron does his regular check of the shop that day. Making sure Colette hasn't run off and Edgar isnt sneaking a nap.

He welcomes Edgar back from his little trivial loot and shoot games.

While Edgar hadn't even thought twice about it before, he recalls that when he had told Byron he'd be working at a different section of the park (namely with the new Brawler, Belle) he had acted just as dismissive.

Like yeah, there was your usual "old man doesn't get the teens" shenanigans, but Byron had never belittled his interest in anything before. Calling his involvement in the season a 'trivial game' sounded... personal.

He outright asks Colette if Byron was acting weird.

Any snippiness that Colette may have had for 2 minutes diminishes when there's a chance to talk with her favorite person in the world that she's seen little to none of for two months, AND about her favorite topic: Brawlers!

She spills everything she knows, because despite Piper's efforts, theres no secret a Brawler can try to keep when shes around.

She didn't find out everything of course. But she knows that there were questions involving Byron and Belle. Piper hushed it up, so for sure there was something.

Edgar nods. "Totally. I think she was close to rippin' my head off once. I brought up Byron once and she was ready to chew me out." (in case i didn't make it clear, Edgar picked up a slight drawl because of belle)

"Cool!" Colette exclaimed. "..I mean, not the rip your head off part. But that is cool too. I meant do we have lore on our hands?? That nobody ELSE knows!!?"

Edgar shushed her. Byron is in his office but the shop wasn't really sound proof.

......cue shenanigans from the Coworkers trying to figure things out in their very amateurish ways compared to Piper by "sneaking" around and "nonchalantly" trying to get him to admit something.

Byron knows they're up to something, and humors them until realizing the topic when Edgar tries bringing up the Goldarm Season.

He shuts them down even faster than Piper.

Of course, instead of deterring them like her, he just confirms their suspicions. Colette and Edgar are "o yeah we are def going to get to the bottom of this."

~

So, it's plan B! If they even try asking Piper she throws them for such a loop and leaves them so bewildered that Colette even forgets to ask for anything she could keep, and Edgar didnt realize she gave them nothing to work with until they're already out the door and down the street with cake pops in their hands.

So, Plan C! ...Barley.

It's hard to find a time to go there, since it's busy when they get off work. And Barley always seems to be at one place or another....

So the kids choose the perfect time (roughly midday), and just wait for the perfect day... when Byron comes in and checks the shop, then decides on his own that they could handle it for the rest of the shift and leaves them to it.

When the stars align, the teens wait until Byron is out of sight, and close up the gift shop. Their plan is to head to the bar... and maybe try and get something out of Barley..... not much of a plan, but they don't realize it there.

They make haste, running to the bar, because time crunch (when/if complaints start rolling in.)

Bursting through the doors of the Bar, Barley gives them a look. "Don't.. do that, please."

Colette apologizes enthusiastically, and urges Edgar forward. "Ask him! I'll keep watch!"

She hops over to the door and peers through it periodically.

Meanwhile, Edgar is stammering because he didnt plan anything to say, he expected Colette to talk to the robot.

"If you two think I allow underage drinking, I most certainly do not, no matter what Penny says." Barley warns.

"Uhh, no it isn't that. ...Umm. do ya know... well, you would know about Byron, and not Belle, I guess. But they've been acting weird lately, and we want to know why."

. . .

Barley pauses in consideration.

Options and questions flood around his mind, and he still had no answer.

Wonders if he should even mention Belle's visit some time ago, or the fact that he knows more in depth about it than Byron would care for, or that if Piper found out he knew more than her, and then told these two over would she be offended? ....Actually, in that case, why was he considering telling them anyway? Well, if they were interested in the topic for genuine reasons...

Edgar doesn't even know what to do either. Barley's not saying anything.

Colette squeaks, and scrambles from the door. "Edgar!! Any luck here? Because we're out of it over there!"

"What?"

"I think I see Byron heading here!!"

Who would have thought.

this is where i kind of dropped off the outline, but to continue/wrap it up, Barley points them to the curtain that covers the back room. There's an exit there which he tells them about, but the teens stay to EAVESDROP bc they care.

Barley and Byron chat. the conversation dips into the area having to do with Belle.

Byron frowns. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you're trying to get me to admit something, Barley. I can understand Piper, but you?"

"Me?" Barley asks. "Sir, you know I never mean harm."

"..." Byron stares at him unconvinced. "If Piper did put you up to this, you can tell me."

"U.. Believe it or not, I am among others in this park who care about you, Byron."

"...." wouldn't that be nice. But Byron believes him. My bad. He humors his coworker for now. "Fine." And asks for a drink.

Barley gets him his preferred one. [Lol I'll come up with it eventually.]

They talk. Barley finds out a little more. But just a little bit. Byron... it isnt like he has practice talking about ☆~feelings~☆

The teens listening in leave before too long. Colette is like O.O;; and Edgar decides that all they wanted to know was the relation between Byron and Belle, and they got that.

She agrees, and they both leave through the back door.

Byron didn't get as drunk ofc, it's still his working hours. Just enough to loosen up a bit and get through mild robot therapy.

After his leave, Barley sees him off, and then goes to check in the back. They're gone and he has a brief "oh, thought they would have gotten the hint to, listen in. Oh, well."

[There's one more event, involving the Coworkers interacting with Belle one last time, but still unplanned <3 it leads to the meet up and the fight... somehow though. I'll release that when I think of it.]

I can also see Piper being ":0 you knew before I did? And didn't tell me? You're mischievous, Barley!" In a very light hearted way at the very end.

Barley frets ;;; "I am not!"

[knightofameris]

passionfruit yakult — oikawa tooru

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛: Neutral 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜: boba shop au, enemies to lovers muahah, cursing, college au as well????, there’s a guy who is really pushy towards making a move on you so almost kinda sexual harrassment, *slaps fic* this baby can hold all the tropes huh, tbH THIS SHOULD BE A LONG FIC BUT UHHHHHHHH, LOTS of cursing. WILL PROOFREAD TOMORROW.  𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3.1𝚔 (my longest one wtf)

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍: passionfruit yakult 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 Ding Tea 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔!

⇽ 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 ◜𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜' 𝚋𝚘𝚋𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚞◞ 

Mornings for you weren’t that bad. Actually, you kinda liked mornings (even if you slept late the night before). It’s always a bit cathartic for you when you’re able to wake up early enough to watch the world wake up before your eyes. Plus, the whole thing makes you feel a bit more productive for being able to wake up early. Though, some days are worse than others. Don’t let that deter you, though, sleeping in doesn’t make you any less productive. As long as everyone here is getting the right amount of sleep and not listen to what society deems as productive, you’re doing just fine. 

Except, mornings are bad. For one reason only. Working the first shift meant preparing the shop an hour before it opened every morning. 

Wake up at seven, lay in bed on your phone for a few minutes, set some music on your speakers, do a bit of morning yoga. Then brush your teeth, eat, get dressed, and pack your bag full of things you’d need for classes along with a change of clothes and it’s already nine. You liked to take your time getting ready in the morning. Get to the train station and clock in to work at ten. 

But every morning, every god damn morning when you’d clock in at ten o’clock there’d be some sort of mess. The floor wasn’t mopped, maybe. Or the cups weren’t stacked in their rightful spots. Perhaps there were dishes left over that still needed cleaning. Or, mayhaps, the screens for the menu were left on for some reason? You could go on about it.

Whoever worked the night shifts was surely out to get you. You were sure of it. They just wanted to piss you off for no reason other than to make you hate mornings, because you’re one of the few that actually like mornings! 

“I swear to god,” you mutter angrily, “I’m gonna murder the evening shift people.” 

This morning, they decided to forget to mop the floors. Or rather, they forgot to do it last night. 

“I feel like the more they glare at the floor, the floor’s going to get destroyed,” Yukie said, eating her onigiri as she sat on one of the chairs. She had already finished her morning duties. 

Akaashi sighed, about to step in to take over before Bokuto bounded towards you instead. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Let me mop the floors instead, we still got a few more minutes before the store opens so just relax!” Bokuto grinned at you, his hands outreached for the mop in your hands. Staring at him with his bubbly and energetic personality relaxed you. Of course, your fellow morning shift coworkers had a distaste towards whoever it was that left the place messy the night before, but you were the one that found it most frustrating. Considering the fact that you’ve left notes for them. 

Taking a deep breath, you hand the mop to Bokuto and thank him before walking towards Akaashi who simply stood behind the counter with his hands clasped behind his back. His watchful eyes stayed on your form. The anger that was in you earlier had dissipated. Finally, Akaashi could relax instead of figuring out a way to keep you from aggressively making drinks. 

“Do we know who even works the night shift?” You asked, fiddling with the laptop that played the music throughout the shop. 

“Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, Hanamaki Takahiro, and Matsukawa Issei,” Akaashi says off the top of his head. “You should really look at the schedule more often.” 

You shoot a glare at Akaashi but he remains unfazed. But it surprises you that you didn’t know that pretty boy Oikawa Tooru was the one leaving a mess. Okay sure it can be one of the others or all four of them but the “pretty boy” never sat right with you with his fan club.

“Isn’t Oikawa-san that one pretty boy with a fan club on campus?” Yukie questioned, her onigiri long finished. 

“Huh? Oh! Yeah! He plays volleyball with me,” Bokuto said, pushing the mop cart back to the janitorial closet. “I think he also played for his team back in high school. Aoba Johsai?” Akaashi nodded his head in confirmation.

You raise a brow at them, “Don’t you play volleyball Akaashi?” You slightly recall the times Yukie, Bokuto, and Akaashi have talked about going back to their high school to visit underclassmen or their training camps to see how Hinata and Tsukki were doing, whoever they were. 

“Yes, but now that we’re in university I don’t play anymore, so I’ve never met Oikawa-san or the others.” 

“Ah,” you slightly tilt your head back in realization. “That makes sense.” 

A tapping on the door interrupted the conversation and all of your heads turn to the glass doors. It’s a customer, an older one, who simply points at his non-existent watch on his wrist. 

“Oops, it’s time to open up shop,” Yukie declared and all four of you went into motion to get started for the day, music began to play through the speakers of the shop. 

***

You were always the first of the four to leave from the first shift, since you had less of a gap between the end of the shift to the class you always had after. But fortunately, next semester you were able to find class times that better suited your schedule. 

Sitting in the lecture hall, grabbing the necessary items you’d need for the next hour out of your bag, you see Konoha making his way over to you. You met him in one of your classes your first year, but found it surprising that he also happened to be friends with Bokuto and the others since high school. 

But the first few sentences he said to you that day probably ruined your week. 

“Did you check the schedule of classes?” Your scrunched up face gave him the answer he needed. “The next class for the physics series next semester was moved to the afternoon instead of evening, so you’re gonna have to change shifts.” 

“What?!” 

Letting out a loud groan, Konoha gave you a sympathetic look, knowing how much you hated the night shift people you always talked about. 

***

Getting through the last part of the semester was difficult but not impossible. Sleepless nights spent at the library studying, cramming, working, and of course trying your best to keep calm while cleaning up the mess from the previous night shifts at Ding Tea. Oh right, and telling the manager you’ll be needing a change in shifts. 

It worked out well, luckily one of the workers from the night shift also had to change schedules so you simply changed with them. Iwaizumi Hajime. From what you hear around campus, he’s the only one who can keep the reins on Oikawa. So you were wondering how in the world working with Oikawa was going to be like, especially without him.

Oikawa let out a whine on his way to work with his other three friends. Except, Iwaizumi was the only one not wearing the work clothes, considering he was heading to class instead. 

“Iwa-chan, why did you have to switch shifts, now we have to deal with one of the morning shift workers.” 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes with a scowl on his face, “Shut it Crappykawa, there’s four of them so we don’t even know if this person in particular is the one leaving the mess.” 

“Still! If I have to deal with cleaning up spilled boba from the floor again, I will-”

“What do you mean, I always end up cleaning the spilled boba,” Matsukawa comments. Iwaizumi whacks Oikawa on the back of his head, saying he had no right to complain if he wasn’t the one cleaning it up before he ended up needing to part from them. 

“See ya,” Hanamaki and the others waved at him. “Wish us luck keeping Oikawa under control.” 

“Just give him a good smack on the head, it’ll be fine,” Iwaizumi smirked and turned around, heading towards class. Hanamaki and Matsukawa exchanged glances, a silent conversation between the two of them as Oikawa spent the rest of the walk depressed and rubbing the back of his head. When they approached the store they saw you already inside, working diligently to prepare the shop, a few customers already coming by. 

As the three boys head into the shop through the back to clock in, you immediately shoot them a glare. But most of it goes towards Oikawa, who gets the sudden chills down his spine. 

“You’re late.” 

Then a smile appears on your face, greeting the customers after you turn your head away from them. 

“Well, this will be fun,” Hanamaki comments, grinning as he puts on his apron to help you out in the front. 

Oikawa points towards you half-heartedly as he looks up to Matsukawa, “I feel like they already hate me, what did I do Mattsun?” 

Matsukawa simply shrugs, “If Iwaizumi was here he’d just say it’s because of your fanclub.” 

“They’re just jealous I have girls and boys and everyone else falling for me,” Oikawa turns his nose up, also heading towards the front since they all knew with his face in the front, they’d definitely get more customers.

***

“Stop making a mess Shitty-kawa! Clean it up next time!”

“Oi! Where’d you get that from? Iwa-chan?!” 

--

“No one wants you here, Oink-kawa.” 

“Wh-wha- Excuse me, we get more customers because of me. And Oink-kawa?!” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a pig.” 

--

“You’re the one that made me hate mornings, and now I hate the entire day because I know I have to work with you!” 

“You’re just jealous tha-”

“No.” 

Matsukawa walked up to Hanamaki who was preoccupied on his phone. You, however, marched past Matsukawa and Hanamaki into the back with an angry huff. It was always entertaining to see the Iwaizumi and Oikawa argue, but the two of you had something... Different? 

To be quite honest, the two of them were tired of your arguing, especially as the semester came to an end. And Iwaizumi was tired of hearing the two of them complain about you and Oikawa, and then Oikawa complaining about you. 

“Hey,” Hanamaki shifted his phone for Matsun to see, “there’s a party tomorrow night.”

Matsukawa raised a brow, “We have work tomorrow.” 

Hanamaki gave him a pointed look, “Do you really want to deal with them?” 

Matsukawa glanced over at Oikawa fuming at the front then over to you, angrily shoving and reorganizing the boxes in the back. Meeting his strawberry-blonde friend’s eyes, his decision was made. 

***

“Sorry guys,” their manager, gave you and Oikawa a pitied look with a shrug as she prepared to leave after checking in. “Matsukawa-kun and Hanamaki-kun never took a sick day so I gave it to them. No one else could come in and besides, it’s Thursday. Not a lot of people come in on Thursdays.” 

You tried reaching for and arguing with your manager but she narrowly avoided your hand when she made it through the door to escape the bickering she only ever wanted to hear about, but never experience it. 

Oikawa opened his mouth to speak until you raised your finger up in the air, silencing him immediately. 

“I’ll work front, you stay in the back.” 

And for once, Oikawa didn’t have the energy to try to retort. 

At this point, the two of you just learned to sorta put up with each other. It was hard, but it was necessary. And, you would never admit to it out loud, but you were getting tired of being angry all the time. And yet, you still always let yourself be angry at him. 

Because he was annoying. 

Even when he talked about volleyball and wanting to be the best and to finally beat that Ushiwaka guy or outsmart Kageyama. Okay you’ll admit, his passion is pretty incredible. But Oikawa was annoying. 

That’s it. 

Final. 

Luckily, your manager was right. Today was a slow day but it was a slower day than usual. Which you couldn’t complain about. It’ll be boring, sure, but it’ll be easy. You just wished that Hanamaki and Matsukawa were there. They were funny, and you liked talking to them. 

The front door opened with a ring and you and Oikawa both called out, welcoming the man that walked in. You didn’t pay any mind to him, just another customer and he seemed to be someone who was a college kid. 

“Hi, what can I get for you?” You tried putting on your best smile and the man arched a brow. 

“Uh, the signature is fine.” 

“Sure thing, what size?” 

“Large. No boba.” 

“Alright, and will that be all?” After typing in his order, you look back up, the fake customer service smile still painted on your face. 

“How about your number?” 

You blinked. The guy wasn’t necessarily bad looking, but the more he stared at you the more you got a weird vibe from him. 

You chuckled nervously, “Uhm, sorry-” you tried coming up with an excuse as to why you didn’t want to give him your number. 

“Come on, baby,” he placed his hands onto the counter, leaning in towards you as you froze in place, “I can be your sugar daddy, how about that? You don’t have to work in this place and all you have to do wou-”

“Excuse me sir, we have the right to deny anyone service and I think you need to leave.” 

The man glanced behind you and you saw him visibly shiver before he stood straight up. It seemed as if the man was debating whether or not he wanted to try to argue. 

“The door is right there,” Oikawa placed his hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Please leave.” 

Looking up at Oikawa, there was a sort of deadly gaze with his eyes being overshadowed that would’ve made you shit your pants but knowing it wasn’t directed at you but rather this man, it made you feel safe. And the way he spoke, it was lower than usual, but filled with a sense of authority. 

Taking in Oikawa’s figure made you realize how tall he was and how fit he got from volleyball. His shoulders were incredibly broad and the squeeze was firm yet it didn’t hurt. 

The ringing of the bell from the front door brought you out of your daze as Oikawa’s face softened when looking at you. 

“Are you alright?” Oikawa asked, his chocolate-brown eyes searching yours. When you don’t reply he says your name. 

You suddenly take a step back, away from him and glance off to the side. 

“Ye-yeah, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure, you’re shaking.” Oikawa took another step towards you, placing both of his hands gently on your quivering shoulders. You didn’t even notice you were shaking. 

Oikawa’s thankful that you don’t step away from him. To be honest, he was surprised you didn’t retort back at the man. At the same time, however, the vibes the man gave even made Oikawa himself uncomfortable. 

“Here,” Oikawa began pushing you towards a chair and sat you down, “I’ll close up shop but just sit here for now.” 

“What? But-”

“It’s almost closing time, it’ll be fine~!” His cheery voice coming back easily. Usually it’d piss you off but, you’re more than glad that he’s trying to make you feel better, safe. 

Oikawa went off, locking the front door and turning off the open sign. The setter began humming as he prepared some drinks. Watching him was always interesting. This time it was rather relaxing. You’ve always known Oikawa was a hard worker, as you could tell from when he talked about volleyball and what Bokuto always talked about. But he was a hard worker in every aspect. He charmed customers and he made drinks exceptionally fast and accurately. 

To be honest, you actually didn’t even notice he made any messes. And in your experience with his fan club members always coming in to the boba shop, they were genuinely nice people and he was nice to them as well. 

You let out a groan. You had an image to uphold, you couldn’t go back on what happened in the beginning when you said you hated him. 

But then he placed a drink in front of you and sat across from you, sipping on his own drink. 

You eyed it warily, then looked back up at him as if you were asking him what it was. 

“Passionfruit yakult. With boba, it's usually too sweet and I noticed you don’t like too sweet drinks so it’s half sugar.” 

Grabbing the drink, you pierced the top with a straw and drank it. Though, you’ve never had it, it was good. You were also pleasantly surprised that he even remembered your preferences. 

Wait.

No, you weren’t pleasantly surprised. 

God, you wanted to rip your hair out. 

You set the drink back down, chewing and gulping the boba in your mouth.

“Thank you, by the way,” you murmured just loud enough for him to hear. 

He hummed in response, “The man was being a creep. If it were me however, you’d be fallin-ack!” 

You whacked him across the head, but a smile sat on your lips as your fingers settled to caress the boba drink on the table. 

Oikawa rubbed his head, about to make a retort but instead stared at you. Oikawa found that he liked it when you smiled. He kinda wanted to make you smile some more. 

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:

At the end of every morning shift...

“Bokuto-san, make sure you clean up the mess before you leave,” Akaashi called out, grabbing his things before heading off to class. 

Bokuto waved his friend good bye with a grin on his face. And as the boy cleaned up the shop, he somehow forgot to clean up said mess. 

At the end of every night shift... 

“Are we really just going to leave this mess?” 

“They do it to us, so,” Hanamaki shrugged at Matsukawa. The brunet raised a brow then snorted, shutting off the lights before following his friend to the station. 

𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚢, 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗!

𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜' 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:  look.... There was a plot hole and it doesn’t line up with boba shops but let’s just assume that there’s like an hour between the morning/night shift where the store is closed and that’s how they’ve never interacted....(i’ve only worked in a ramen shop adn that’s how it worked there ahdjfkhasdf and i foRGOT OKAY I JUST... IT NEEDED TO MAKE SENSE)

[fan-fantasies]

Christmas Miracle (Kim Hongjoong)

Prompts?: “Come and kiss me baby, we don’t need no mistletoe” -Ariana Grande (Wit it This Christmas)

“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.” -Elf

Paring?: hongjoong x reader

warnings?: swearing, situations of drinking, (i think thats it)

A/N: Hey everyone, so i’m pretty nervous to post this, it’s been awhile since i last posted something. I’ve been struggling with some mental health situations which left me unmotivated and overall not myself. So i’m hoping that this turns out as good as i think it is. I write this for an Ateez Winter prompt, I thought why not start of the year with something wholesome? Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. <3 Breezy

Winter was a beautiful season, the snow, the pretty Christmas decorations that seemed to be everywhere you looked. You wouldn’t say that you hated winter, seeing it was the best time of year for hot chocolate in front of a fire or curling up under warm blankets for a movie night in. Though for the love of all things, why did it have to be so cold?! 

The wind blew on your walk to class, after your car neglected to start due to the frigid temperatures, there was no other option but to bundle up and walk the small distance to your university. At least it wasn’t snowing but the dark clouds were telling a different story. What a wonderful day today was going to be. You decided that maybe a warm cup of hot coco would help your day get better, there was a small cafe right by the school that you had never had time to stop before but today seemed to be the day. The cafe was quiet, the soft sound of the radio kept it from being too quiet. At the register was a fairly tall man, dark hair that was pushed to the side so it wouldn't cover his eyes. His name tag read, 'San'. When he saw you he spoke cheerfully, greeting you with a warm smile.

"Good morning! What can I get for you?" He cheerfully asks causing you to cringe a bit. It was too early.

"Hi " you spoke softly, "can I get a medium hot chocolate?” you order now returning a smile. As you prepared to take out your wallet, he stops you.

“It's on the house," he says, "it seems like you need it." His smile never left his face. You honestly couldn't tell if it was fake or if he just loved his job that much.

"Hongjoong, one hot cocoa!" He shouts to his coworker who stood by the machines seemingly already working on it. From where you stood, Hongjoong was shorter than his co-worker, his hair a dark brown and, to be honest, looked soft. You couldn't see his face but you wished you could.

While you wait, San kept a light conversation going, seeing as he had no customers, not like you minded.

"Where are you heading off too?" He asked curiously.

"Well I'm heading to one of my classes at the university. Art history." You tell him honestly.

His eyes light up hearing that class, "Then you likely know Wooyoung!" he exclaims, “He's our roommate."

San motions towards Hongjoong. “Well one of our roommates, we share an apartment with a few friends." San glances in the direction of his coworker who was hard at work.

He spoke quietly, "do you think I could get your number?" You were surprised at how forward he was.

Your expression made him chuckle, "Not for me silly, Joong over there has been sneaking glances at you, and I've seen your eyes wander too," he teases, "he's just a little nervous to get out there." San explained quietly hoping his friend didn't hear the conversation. Typically you weren't one for giving your number out but you had to admit his friend was cute... 

"yeah, give me something to write it down" you say, your cheeks starting to feel warm. The male smiled widely before handing you a piece of receipt paper. You scribbled your number down quickly and handed it to the dark haired boy, who quickly took it and hid it before his friend came over with your drink. Your eyes finally met his, your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. 

His eyes were a dark brown, he was wore large rimmed glassed that only seemed to make him even more adorable if that was physically possible. His hair was parted in the middle, slightly showing off his forehead but it honestly framed his face wonderfully. Your train of thought was broken when you heard San speak up,

“We have to see you again! Now you better go before you’re late for class!” He exclaims which reminded you that, in fact, you had class to get to. 

“Thank you San, thank you Hongjoong.” You spoke quietly with a shy smile before leaving the cafe and heading down the street. Even with the unexpected stop, you were still making great time and were able to make it to class with five minutes to spare. 

“(Y/n)!” You heard the familiar hyper voice yell. You glanced up seeing Wooyoung waving excitedly in your direction. He always acted if you never saw each other. 

“Good morning Woo.” You say with a warm smile. You sat in the seat beside him, as you always did, and he was quick to notice the cup that you had sat down. 

“You stopped at a cafe?” He questioned curiously, he knew you hardly ever stopped. 

“Yeah, my car didn’t start this morning so I had to walk. I decided to stop to get something to warm me up a little.” You say with a chuckle. Your eyes scanned over the cup briefly only for you to now notices the small flower doodles and hearts on the part where they typically wrote the name for the order.

Wooyoung must have also noticed cause he gasped at it, “Awe!” Wooyoung was always so giddy when it come to you, especially if it had to do with you potentially dating. This man was absolutely invested in getting you into a relationship. 

“Did you get the name of the barista?” He questioned trying to get as much information as possible. 

You giggle at his question, “Yeah, I did.” You smile softly, “Also, I’m pretty sure San wanted me to say hi to you.” You say with a smirk. His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. You had never seen him so happy about something in his life. 

“It was San?!” He nearly shrieked trying to keep his voice down. 

“No, it wasn’t San. Though he was really trying to set one of your friends up with me.” You looked down at your hands shyly. “His name was Hongjoong.” This time Wooyoung couldn’t hold back the squeal that escaped him. 

He prepared to speak but was cut off when the professor began to start speaking. You instantly went into, what you liked to call, note taking mode. This was one of your favorite classes and you found it the most interesting out of all of them, so of course you were going to pay attention. 

Midway through the class you felt Woo gently poke your side, carefully sliding a small note to you. What was this? Eighth grade? 

‘So Hongjoong? ;)’ Was written on the note, you knew telling him about his friends was likely a bad idea… 

‘What about him?’ You wrote back, carefully sliding the note back. You knew Wooyoung was trying to hold back his excitement. 

When the note slide back you weren’t surprised to see what he had written. ‘What do you think of him?” 

You rolled your eyes at this, ‘IDK, he seems nice? I didn’t really get a chance to talk with him.’ You quickly wrote before passing it back, now fully focusing on the professors lecture. Wooyoung must have seen that you wanted to focus, cause he never passed the note back. 

The class went by slowly, though you didn’t really mind. It almost made you forget crappy your day had started out. 

Once the professor dismissed everyone, Wooyoung was at your side talking again. 

“You should come to our Christmas party!” He suggested, “It’s just us, we watch movies and just have a good time. Maybe you can talk to my buddy Hongjoong a little.” He teased with a wink. 

You both exited the classroom, through the hallway windows you could see that snow had indeed begun to fall. 

You groan in discontentment. “Why did my car have to stop working today?” You mumble watching the snow fall from the sky. 

“You can’t walk home in this! You’re going to catch cold.” He says, “I bet one of the guys would bring you home!” He pulls out his cell phone, “San and Hongjoong should be getting out of work soon. They could come pick you up.” He says tapping away at his phone.

“I don’t want to inconvenience them, I’ll just take the bus.” You tell him, he shook his head. Continuing to type away on his phone. 

“Too late, San already agreed. He said him and Hongjoong would pick you up outside the main building in 15 minutes.” Wooyoung giggled, a cute smile on his face.  

“Fine and I’ll think about your offer for the Christmas party.” The both of you hug before parting ways. 

Your walk to the main building was pretty quiet, most students were in their classes only a few stragglers wandered around. Likely, they too, were done with classes or meeting with professors before their final deadlines come up. To be honest, you hadn't thought much about them. 

You glanced out the front door, not daring to go outside unless you needed to. A few cars sat idling in the parking lot, Wooyoung neglected to tell you what type of car they drove. You stood there for a bit, in your back pocket your phone buzzed. A new text message.

You opened it, no name had come up so whoever it was you didn't have their number.

"this is San! " the text started with, "this is Hongjoongs phone so you should save his number." he had said, adding a winky face at the end. "Anyways, we are outside the silver Toyota." you glance out and the car seemed to pull up. Perfect timing you thought to yourself. You held your jacket close as you walked out into the cold, the snow seemed to be falling even more then before. You sped walked to the car, opening the backseat door, you were oddly surprised at how clean it was.

"hey (y/n)!" San enthusiastically says from the passenger seat. Hongjoong also greeted you but in a much quieter fashion.

"hi, I really appreciate you giving me a ride. I probably would have frozen solid if I had to walk." you say with a small laugh.

"I don't mind," Hongjoong spoke softly as he began to pull out of the parking lot. You told him your address and he headed in that direction. San made sure to keep the conversation going, he reminded you so much of Woo.

"How long have you known Wooyoung?" You curiously ask the two males.

"Well, Woo and I went to high school together. then we met this one when we moved in for university." San spoke happily, it was honestly kind of sweet.

 Hongjoong nodded in agreement, "If I would have known you two were so crazy I wouldn't have moved in." He teased with a smirk planted on his face. San gasped trying his best to act offended. This made you giggle, these two were insane, but you loved it.

The drive to your apartment was filled with stories and jokes. Maybe taking Wooyoungs offer would be fun. You thanked them both before exiting the car and heading to your apartment. You took off your coat and shoes before further entering your apartment. Your phone began to vibrate in your back pocket as you headed towards your room.

 The caller ID read, Wooyoung.

You answer. " yes Woo?" you asked enter your room and sitting at your desk.

"how was your ride?" he questioned in a teasing manner. 

You rolled your eyes,"it was great. San told me a lot of stories." you tease back.

Wooyoung was quiet for a few moments. "Nothing new," he calmly says, " Have you thought about the party?" 

" yeah, I've thought about it" you begin.' I think it could be fun... " you nearly dropped your phone at the sound of Woo young's shriek. This man was to excitable..

"the party is next weekend , well, we usually start Friday night but you can come by on Saturday, "he says cheerfully.

"I'll come by on Friday, I'll just crash on your couch or something." you weren't opposed to sleeping on the couch or floor.

"Or maybe you can share a bed with Hongjoong." you could practically hear him smirking but his comment made you blush none the less.

"Shut up Woo, don't make me regret this." 

He chuckled, "I promise you wont, I gotta go I'll see you in class tomorrow." The overly excited man hung up the phone leaving you in silence.

"That guys gonna be the death of me." you mumble to yourself before standing and continuing to do your afternoon routine.

The week passed by in a blur. Other than your work, the party was always on your mind. You weren't typically one for parties but maybe this could be fun.

Woo told you that you would go to his place after your class, his roomie Jongho was going to bring you..

"Are you excited for tonight? " Wooyoung questions as the two of you exited the lecture hall. Even after an exhausting class, he still somehow managed to have so much energy.

"Yes, I'm excited. I’ve never honestly been to any kind of party like this before.” You admit with a small sigh. Wooyoung let out a giggle, he gently grabbed you and continued to walk with you down the corridor. 

“Well then this will be even more fun!” He exclaims, “You’ll love everyone, we can be a little crazy but I think you’ll get along with them. If you don’t, well I’m sure Hongjoong would bring you up to his room where it’s quiet.” He teased as he gently nudged your side. You smiled at his teasing tone but didn’t say anything else. You knew Woo was planning something, you just weren’t sure what it was he was planning. 

As he had said, Jongho was waiting for the both of you in his car. Another figure in the car in the passenger seat. 

“Hey Jongho! Yunho!” Wooyoung exclaims as he gets into the car, you followed suit. “Guys this is (Y/n)! They’re in my art history class.” He says to his friends. The one driving, who you assumed was Jongho gave you a hello, while the other one gave you the brightest smile. 

“Hey there! I’m Yunho!” His energy almost matched Wooyoung’s which honestly kind of scared you but not in a bad way. You giggle at his enthusiasm but didn’t say anything in return. You let the two goofy friends chat about the plans for tonight, while you and Jongho sat in silence listening to them. 

“We have to make one stop before we go back to the apartment.” Jongho says as he pulled into the parking lot of a small store. 

He parked the car, “I’ll be right back.” He says as he exits the car and rushing into the store, likely so his friends wouldn’t do something stupid in his car. You honestly believed that these two would be capable of doing something stupid like that.

The two continued to joke, as if Jongho hadn’t left the car. 

“Come on (Y/n)! Tell him what happened at the cafe.” Wooyoung whined as he playfully nudged you. 

“Wait the cafe where we work?” Yunho questions with the biggest grin on his face. Wooyoung nods his head excitedly. 

“Come on Woo, don’t make me tell him.” You beg looking at your friend who had the biggest shit eating grin. 

“If you don’t, I will.” He teases hoping that his words might honestly push you to tell the story. When you kept your mouth shut he took that as his cue that he would be telling it for you. 

“San was trying to set her up with Hongjoong.” This news made Yunho giggle happily. Did all of his friends really want to set you up with Hongjoong? They hardly knew you. 

Before the story continued, the drivers side door opened and Jongho sat down into his seat. He handed the bag to Yunho who was still giggling like crazy. You would have figured Jongho would have questioned but he just silently began to drive again. This was going to be an interesting night…

You had been at their apartment for about an hour and honestly you were sure that this was just pure chaos. It had started with the nine of you but eventually nine turned to ten and ten turned into eighteen. Someone, who you honestly assumed was San, had invited Changbin, who in turn invited his eight rowdy friends. Put the two groups of friends together to have a purely chaotic party. 

Currently you were all listening to upbeat Christmas music, dancing together like it honestly didn’t matter. Most of you were drinking, leaving poor Jeongin and Jongho out seeing as though they were technically underage but it honestly seemed like they weren’t interested in the booze since you knew if they wanted to drink they could have just asked. 

You weren’t much of a drinker but tonight, you decided to let loose a little, drinking enough just to make your head spin a little. 

A cup in hand you danced and sung along with Han and Wooyoung to the upbeat music, you were all sharing giggles having just a good time. All you wanted to do is dance. Wooyoung continued to glance at Han, you believed they were being sneaky but you could easily see through them. What were they planning?

The more you danced with them, the closer they seemed to get to you, not like you minded. Though Woo was your best friend, you found him attractive anyone with eyes would agree and Han was just as good looking as him. Though you were sure, Woo knew his limits and would make sure nothing happened to you. 

You heard a laugh beside you as you and Wooyoung shouted along to the Christmas song that played. You looked over to see Yeosang and Hyunjin, who seemed really entertained by the show that was being put on. 

“What?!” You shout to them over the loud music, “The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear!” You shout to them only causing them to laugh. 

“Come on Yeosang! Hyunjin! Join us!” You say to them holding out your arm. They only laughed again before walking in the opposite direction. You look at Wooyoung and pout but continued dancing none the less. 

Wooyoung leaned closer, whispering in your ear, “Guess who won’t stop looking at you.” He whispered in a singsong voice. You glanced over your shoulder and sure enough Hongjoong was glancing at you from across the room as he seemed to be in a conversation with Seonghwa and Chris. His averted his gaze back to the two he was talking with. 

“What are you planning Woo?” You question glancing back at your friend who seemed to have a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“Don’t worry too much, me and Han are going to help you.” You wanted to question what he meant but both Woo and Han took your arm leading you to the empty couch to sit. Once you sat down, the music was turned down and everyone seemed to gather around sitting in the empty chairs and the floor. You felt Han place his arm over your shoulder casually, you knew he meant nothing by it. 

“Usually around now we would watch some cheesy Christmas movies, but it seems we have more guests than usual.” San chuckled knowing that this was his doing. The room erupted in chatter about how they really wanted to watch movies. 

“Put on a movie!” Felix shouted from his seat on the floor. The rest of the room agreed. 

San rolled his eyes, “Fine! We watch the same movies every year so thats what we will watch.” Everyone in the room cheered excitedly as Yeosang turned the TV on preparing it for their movie marathon. Wooyoung got up from his seat, leaving you and Han alone on the couch. You suspected this was part of the plan. 

Han leaned closer to you, “Play along, but let me know if you’re uncomfortable.” He whispered in your ear. You honestly thought that while he was enacting this plan with Wooyoung, that he wanted you to be comfortable above all. You nod slightly and lean back against the couch, his arm was still casually thrown over your shoulder though he made sure to sit a bit closer to you. It was at that moment, you knew exactly what they were doing. They were trying to make Hongjoong jealous enough to make a move. You laid your head on Han’s shoulder, playing along with their idea to set you up. You continued to sip at your drink as someone turned off the lights and started the movie. The seat beside you stayed vacant for some time until Wooyoung returned, it was clear though that he didn’t want to take this seat. 

The movie went on, you were likely halfway through the movie when you felt a sickening feeling in your stomach. 

“Woo where’s your bathroom?” You asked quietly not to disturb anyone else. 

He glanced at you, “Down that hallway, the last door on the left. Are you okay?” He questioned, concern in his soft voice. 

“Yeah, I-I just don’t feel too good.” You say honestly before standing from your seat, carefully stepping over everyone on the floor and speed walking down the hallway. You threw the bathroom door open, closing it gently before rushing towards the toilet. Falling to the floor you threw up into the toilet, a few stray tears fell down your cheeks just from the burning in your throat. 

There was a knock on the bathroom door, “(Y/n)?” A voice you weren’t expecting to hear called, you went to answer but instead vomiting again. Through your dry heaves you heard the door slowly open and close gently. There were no words spoken as Hongjoong walked behind you and held you hair away from your face. It was a sweet gesture that would have made your heart skip a beat if you weren’t sitting here vomiting. You felt his other hand gently rub your back in hopes to maybe sooth you. 

When you were sure that the contents of your stomach was empty you sat back against your heels. 

“I-I’m sorry you had to see me like this Hongjoong.” You whisper softly, your throat sore from throwing up. There was long period of silence but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. 

“Don’t be sorry, it happens.” He speaks softly, his voice calm and soothing. “Let me go get you some water and some mouth wash.” He chuckled softly before quietly leaving the room. 

You stood yourself up, supporting yourself against the counter as your felt light headed. You looked at yourself in the mirror, cheeks flushed from the tears that had fallen from your eyes. You looked like a disheveled mess. 

The bathroom door carefully opened again, Hongjoong entered with a cup of water and what you assumed was a bottle of mouthwash. He carefully handed you the cup, with shaky hands your first sip was to hopefully rinse this awful taste out of your mouth. The rest you carefully drank in hopes to sooth your hurting throat. 

“I’ll leave you to clean yourself up…” Hongjoong trailed as he turned to leave. 

“W-Wait, Hongjoong,” you began, “Will you wait for me outside the door? I’m feeling a bit dizzy.” You tell him.

He glanced back at you, a cute smile on his face. “Of course.” He left the room closing the door behind him. 

You took a few minutes to clean yourself up and be slightly more presentable before you slowly exiting the bathroom. As you had asked, Hongjoong waited for you. He offered you his arm, which you happily accepted. 

“C-Can I sit with you?” You quietly ask as you walked down the hallway together. 

He was quiet, “You don’t want to sit with Wooyoung and Han?” 

You giggled, did the plan actually work. “Why? Are you jealous?” You tease, a noticeable blush appearing on his cheeks. That gave you your answer. He didn’t particularly answer your question but when you got to the living room he brought you to his spot on the floor. You must have been gone for some time cause another movie had begun. Before you knew it, you were snuggling into his side, your eyes becoming heavy as you drifted to sleep. 

When you woke up you were in a completely different room, one you didn’t recognize. You tried to remember what had happened before you fell asleep, you remembered the movie and throwing up in front of Hongjoong. He was likely the reason you were in this bed. A soft snore snapped you from your thoughts, you carefully looked over your shoulder as saw Hongjoong. He was laying on his back, hair disheveled but it was cute. You carefully turn to face him, gently you place your head on his chest cuddling into him. His arm moved, wrapping itself around you holding you close. This felt so right… 

Hongjoong shifted underneath you, you glanced up to his face watching as his eyes flutter open. A blush appeared on his cheeks as he locked eyes with you. 

“Good morning.” You mumble softly a blush also appearing on your cheeks. Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you looked into each other eyes. A mental argument went on inside your head, should you make a move? Or just gaze into his eyes? You had a feeling that he was thinking the same thing. You sat there for what seemed like hours until his hand gently touched your cheek. His thumb gently rubbing against your cheek, the gesture was sweet but it was more than that… You shifted upwards, the both of your lips barely touching. 

“C-Can I kiss you?” He mumbles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. You didn’t answer, instead you leaned up and connected your lips together softly. Neither of you moved until Hongjoong deepened the kiss. His hand gently caressed your cheek as you shared this soft kiss. You pulled away slowly, your eyes locking once again. He sat up, his back now leaning against the headboard pulling you up with him as he once again locked lips with you. The hand on your cheek now rested on the back of your neck deepening the kiss. 

A loud crash caused the both of you to pull away. 

“What was that?” You question. 

Hongjoong sighed softly, “It’s more like who and I know exactly who it is.” He mumbled as he stayed close to you. 

“Sh-Should we go check on them?” You ask not particularly wanting to move from the position you were in. You squealed as he pulled you onto his lap to straddle his hips, his hands rested on your waist and yours wrapped gently around his neck. Your forehead again rested against his, your lips gently brushing against his again. You two would have likely kissed again if Hongjoongs bedroom door didn’t swing open causing the both of you to jump. Wooyoung stood there, the biggest shit eating grin ever imaginable on his face. 

“Wooyoung, get out.” You tell your friend, a threatening look in your eye that clearly sent a message to him cause he quickly shut the door and left you alone.

“That man really knows how to ruin a moment.” You say with a giggle as you looked at a flustered Hongjoong. “I think we should go check on them…” He gave you a nod, gently pecking your lips before you got up from the bed. 

You grabbed his hand gently as you both left his room, fully prepared to be teased by all of his friends. Which you were, though mostly it was his roommates being happy to see him with someone. The other nine boys, who must have crashed in the living room, joined them in being excited. Though Han was with you, saying that he was happy to see the two of you together. It was honestly kinda sweet seeing everyone so happy. 

The rest of the morning was spent eating a sweet breakfast that Wooyoung and Seonghwa made together, apparently this too was a tradition. You all sat around the living room, telling stories, laughing and genuinely enjoying the company of others. You were lucky enough to secure a spot on the couch next to Hongjoong, while San sat on the other side of you. It was nice to be able to cuddle into his side even if you were surrounded by everyone. 

Eventually the conversation seemed to shift into one that you never would have thought, it almost seemed cliche. A game of truth or dare amongst eighteen people. Well this was going to be fun.

They were harmless dares, like asking them to do silly things or things like that. It was honestly just fun amongst friends. Well, till it got to Hongjoong’s turn. 

“Alright Hongjoong, truth or dare?” Felix asked the elder who shifted in his seat. 

“Uh, dare?” He said as more of a question then answering the question. That made you giggle. 

“Well then, we all dare you to give your new girlfriend a big ol’kiss.” Some people in the room whooped and made sounds causing you to blush. He seemed hesitant unsure if you wanted to do this, his gaze locked with yours almost asking you for permission. 

You let out the smallest giggle, “Come and kiss me baby,” you say softly for only him to hear, “we don’t need no mistletoe.” You say in a teasing manner causing him to chuckle as well before leaning in and kisses you sweetly. The room erupted in cheers causing a blush to appear on your cheeks. It was a short but sweet kiss, you were sure neither of you wanted to pull away and likely you wouldn’t have if you weren’t surrounded by friends. 

The game continued on, picking fun at each other and having a good laugh. Before you knew it, everyone was getting ready to leave. Everyone said their goodbyes, Han made sure that he had contact with you cause you were pretty sure you had just made a new best friend. Once the nine boys left, you and the others continued to lounge in the living room. 

“(Y/N)!” Wooyoung shouted from the kitchen,

“What!?” You shout in return from the comfort of the couch as you laid across it with your head on Hongjoong’s lap. 

“Come help me!” You groan at his request before getting up and heading towards the kitchen. The biggest mess you had ever seen, Wooyoung was trying to bake… 

“Wooyoung, what in the world…” you begin, “Are you trying to make pie?” 

The happy boy smiled and nodded, “Yes I wanted apple pie.” He said. 

“We could have gone to the store.” 

He shook his head, “That’s no fun! Now help me, I know you know how to make apple pie.” He said. You rolled your eyes, and join him. 

“We are gonna need a few more hands, or this will take forever.” You tell Wooyoung, his eyes lit up as he rushed to the living room and came back with San and Hongjoong. 

You spent the rest of the afternoon baking with the chaos twins and Hongjoong. It was the most fun baking you had ever had. Once you put the pie in the oven, you set the timer and headed towards the living room. 

A hand grabbed yours, pulling you back, your back came in contact with a firm chest, his firm chest. His arms wrapped around you as he held you close and kissed your head. 

“I’m going to take you out tomorrow.” He says with a smile, “Where ever you want to go, I’ll take you.” He declares as he holds you close. 

“How about a coffee shop.” You say with a smirk causing him to chuckle. 

“Was their teasing not enough?” He questioned. 

You shook your head, “No.” You giggle, you glance up at him, there was a wide smile on his face. 

This was the man of your dreams, he was everything. Maybe he was your Christmas miracle. 

[ljandersen]

And other question: “Tell us a little bit about yourself”. It's always interesting to know more about your favorite author) Thanks a lot🖤

First of all, thank you!  Being one of someone’s favorite authors is a huge compliment and very humbling.  I appreciate your interest in both me and my stories!

To start (*avoids eye contact* *lowers voice*), I’m American.  I know we all look like lunatics right now, but I swear, I’m normal.  I live in the Pacific Northwest.  I’ve spent most of my life paying tuition and sitting in lecture halls.  After nine years of school, I finally graduated with my terminal degree.  Now I’m an oncology pharmacist who works for a healthcare system with inpatient services and several ambulatory clinics.  I work with brilliant people.  I love my coworkers.  I’ve finally been able to travel the world and see the amazing sites I only dreamed about growing up and in school.  I have a cat, dog, and husband.

When it comes to writing, I’ve written stories for as long as I can remember.  When I learned how to spell “Hi,” I wrote a story with crayon animals saying “hi” to each other on each page.  I kept a wad of notebook-page stories in my nightstand from first grade through high school.  I never planned to be a professional writer, since that wasn’t a “responsible” career route.  Instead I went into science and medicine.  Throughout my years at the university, my writing became less and less, and by the time I entered graduate school, I had put it away completely.  

It probably would have stayed that way if I hadn’t become disillusioned with my career.  I was always the A+ student.  It was part of my identity.  When I graduated, I assumed my career would be this grand thing.  I’d be valued for what I brought to the organization.  I’d go above and beyond, and it would matter in some small way.  As it turned out, medicine is very corporate.  

I became a cog in the wheel.  I got tired of management telling my team, “Go ahead and quit.  It’s easier for us to replace you, than it is for you to find a new job.”  The whole “Get off the bus if you don’t like it” mantra was something I heard at least every other week, not necessarily said directly to me as an individual, but to my coworkers as a group.  I saw how other exceptional employees were treated.  I saw how my efforts never went anywhere.  I had no individual worth to management or administration.  If I was so replaceable then even the higher calling of patient care didn’t really matter.  If whether it was me or some random person off the street sitting in that seat, it didn’t make a difference to administration, then my individual contribution to patient care was obviously generic and relatively insignificant.

I was inhibited improving programs or providing education, advancing anything, problem solving for efficiency, and all my extra work either got me in trouble in some weird round-about way or simply was wasted effort.  For instance, I was really excited about developing a dose-rounding policy for the outpatient clinic.  I had read recent guidelines issued by NCCN/HOPA.  I talked to my boss.  She patted me on the head and said sure.  I drafted a policy, complied sources, worked hard on documents and presentation material for the physicians.  Then it emailed it to my boss.  Month after month, I’d ask her, “Have you brought that to the doctors?”  Month after month, she’d forget.  Finally, I stopped asking.  A year and half later, one of the doctors brought up dosing rounding in a meeting.  My boss didn’t even remember I’d worked on it.  She told the MD it was such a good idea and assigned one of my coworkers to work on it and create a policy to present.  Going above and beyond only lead to frustration and hurt.

To me, what mattered was getting the job done well and having a harmonious, good working relationship with co-workers.  That’s not what mattered to my boss.  I got tired of being told I was a good clinician, but I didn’t smile enough.  I got in trouble if I didn’t come to her office to “hi” to her in the morning.  She was put out I hadn’t told her my grandma died but told a coworker.  How I did my job clinically didn’t matter.  

I discovered administration just wanted someone to clock in, clock out, do the factory conveyer-type work of daily duties and do nothing else.  I not only couldn’t share an opinion, I had to not have one at all.  I could leave, but staying near my family was important. I stayed, but I realized: my career had to be a job.  It couldn’t be a part of my identity.  I would never feel accomplished or have a sense of individual worth or achievement from my paycheck job.

That’s when I turned back to writing.  I tried a few original novels that went nowhere.  After playing ME, I lacked closure and wrote an ending for myself.  It turned into 300 k words, and my sister encouraged me to try posting it on a website.  From there, I found FFN and eventually AO3.  I’ve written ME fanfiction ever since.  I enjoy it.  It gives me something to do that brings me more joy than my actual job.  I’ve been studying self-publishing and maybe one day I’ll take the leap.  I don’t intend to leave my day job, since I spent 9 years and $100,000 getting my degree, but at least, I have an area of my life where I feel like I matter as an individual.  I achieve something I can be proud of.  

It’s been a few years since I posted my first ME fanfiction, and I have met several amazing people.  I’ve made good friends.  We get excited over each other’s story and share interests.  I’m so thankful for them.  Plus, I’ve read some amazing fanfic and enjoyed being part of a community.  Everything someone writes is worthwhile and appreciated by someone.  We improve and encourage each other.  No one’s better than anyone else.  We’re skilled in different areas and have our own spin when it comes to writing.  Some people are primarily readers and make a fanfic writer’s day by enjoying their story.  It’s all worthwhile.  It’s fun to be in a group where you’re worth comes from being yourself, not a voice-box-less automaton who smiles and says “hi” and “good bye” every morning and every evening.  

As for the future, I’ve been able to join professional writers’ facebook groups and read books about self-publishing and marketing.  I’ll keep with my day job, but now I feel less frustrated and listless.  I’m just there for the paycheck and for the enjoyment of my immediate coworkers, who again, I’ll say, are brilliant human beings.  I’m lucky to work with them.  With writing, though, I can achieve something and advance myself.  I focus on the people in my life for real satisfaction and have a hobby where I can progress myself and feel proud of what I achieve.

That’s my story.  Not very exciting, but that’s my path to writing fanfic in a nutshell.  I think it’s important that everyone has an area in their life where they find joy in accomplishing something for themself.

Thank you for the ask!  I’m sure that was more than you were expecting to get an answer.  All my short stories turn into long fics, even this one.  Lol!  Again, I appreciate your interest very much!

[jishyucks]

Liar, Truther ‣ lmh

‣ genre: sorta f2l, fluff

‣ wc: 7.2k {dialogue heavy}

‣ summary: Your secret admirer’s plans are ruined when someone else claims to be who they’re not… you’re not aware of this

series m.list

The Cute Barista

i.

Somehow, it calms you down watching Minho make coffee. The way his eyes would naturally widen and how he’d bite his bottom lip when he focused on his mini project… it all intrigued you. If he messed up, he would let out a quiet tsk that he thought only he heard, but in reality, that one part of the coffee shop could hear it. You found it cute, how much genuine passion he put into simply making coffee or drinks in general. It was rare to see it in a person. 

When he looked up after finishing his task, you turned your head sharply back to your work, secretly hoping that he hadn’t seen you staring at him as he did his job. It’s not like he didn’t know you and you were being a stalker. You both talked to each other all the time, you even knew where each other lived, but still being caught staring at him would probably be the most embarrassing thing in the world.

Minho rounded the counter, your ordered coffee in one hand and a food item in the other. He approached your table and smiled, “For Miss Y/N, your usual with the hearts and a chocolate chip muffin.” 

You looked up at his warm eyes with a surprised expression, “Thanks for the coffee Minho… but I didn’t order this.” You pushed the muffin away from you and to Minho. 

He shook his head and pushed it back to you, “I know you didn’t, but I take orders from my customers and they specifically told me to give it to you when you come in.” Minho snorted quietly at your defeated look. You groaned and pulled the muffin towards you and stared at it like it was some foreign object. 

For the past few weeks, a secret admirer had been leaving you free items for when you came in. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for free food, because who wouldn’t want that? It was more so because you didn’t know the person and there was no way you were able to repay them or thank them personally without knowing who they were. You felt like you were just taking the food and doing nothing else about it and you hated that.

You remember the first time you received a food item. You thought it was part of some reward thing at the cafe that you knew nothing about. It only occurred to you that someone had been buying you this stuff when Minho straight up explained to you the whole situation when you asked (more like forced) him to tell you.

“Tell them I say thank you,” you mutter with a pout on your lips. Minho gives you a warm smile before turning around to get back to work. He stopped in his tracks when you called him back, “Minho.” A questioning look filled his face. His eyebrow was raised and his hands rested naturally on his hips. 

“Can you tell me who it is?” 

For a second, Minho was actually at a loss of a perfect reply. Should he tell you who it is or keep it a secret? It wouldn’t be exciting if he told you who it was this way right? 

“It’s a secret.” He smirked and winked teasingly before heading back to his spot behind the counter. You were left slightly annoyed, though you did understand why he chose to not tell you. If you had been in the spot of your admirer, you would’ve wanted it to be a complete secret too. 

Sneaking another glance at Minho, a small tiny bit of your heart hoped that Minho was your secret admirer.

ii.

It was a funny sight seeing Minho being bombarded by a group of girls who only came to this specific little cafe for him. He was waving off the pieces of paper obviously ripped randomly from a loose leaf, a kind yet awkward smile occupying his face. By the looks of his mouth, it looked like he was repeating words, which was inaudible from the place you sat at. 

Once he had finally gently rejected the phone numbers of girls. A satisfied expression took over the distraught look as he jumped over the counter and made his way towards you. 

“You look extra dead today,” Minho slipped into the seat in front of you, leaning back to relax. He was on his fifteen, it was obvious by the fact he was still wearing his apron around his waist. 

You peaked up at him through the hair sitting over your arm and sighed, “Tell me something I don’t know.” Sitting up you offered him a small smile, “How was your day?”

He shrugged and let his head fall back, almost hitting the chair behind his, “Boring. Today was boring.” He reached for the window next to him, gliding his finger across the unbothered condensation to draw a cat. 

“Boring how?” You had abandoned the books in front of you and followed his finger with your eyes, watching as he started drawing a family of cats. That was probably the most adorable thing you’ve seen in ages.

“It just wasn’t the same today, aside from those girls,” he shrugged, “Also my lecture couldn’t have been any more boring. My professor has that monotone voice that can lull someone to sleep.” He sat back up properly, looking back at you instead of the frosty window. 

“I’m guessing you fell asleep,” you laughed quietly. You wanted to ask him why he didn’t give at least one of those girls a chance, but he quickly interrupted your thoughts, causing you to easily forget about it.

“You guessed right,” he said proudly, “Not that I wanted to sleep, though. I tried my best to stay awake  but my head started doing that thing where it just jerks down and I just let it be. It is what it is.”

You both let out low laughs so that none of you would disturb the rest of the cafe. He glanced down at his watch and sighed, “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

You let out a sigh similar to Minho’s as he walked back behind the counter, helping out Hongjoong who was beginning to juggle a few more drinks than he could handle. 

Not even ten minutes later, Minho had returned to your table, a ginger molasses cookie sitting snugly in a cute paper bag in hand. He slid it gently on top of your books, making sure you could see it.

“Again?” Your eyes brightened up at the sight of the cookie. It looked freshly baked, and just by tapping it with your fingertip, it was still soft.

Minho laughed and nodded, “Disappointed?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head and picked up the treat, taking in the scent, “You know my deal.”

Before he returned to the counter, he patted your shoulder, “I know. I make sure he knows you’re grateful.”

iii.

The half eaten cookie was sitting on your bedside table. You wanted to savour it a bit more. Plus, it could help you channel the depths of your brain on who your secret admirer could be. 

You remembered Minho stating that your admirer was a he, so that made it easier to pick out who they could be. 

You skipped over Minho as one of the possibilities. Part of you just simply didn’t want to get your hopes up. Then the other part of you was thinking that it obviously couldn’t be Minho. He was the deliverer. The messenger, you could say. How stupid could Minho be for him to be both your secret admirer and the deliverer? 

Pretty stupid, you think. 

Then you thought about his coworkers. The ones you only ever interacted with and saw all the time were Hongjoong and Jungwoo. And as far as you knew, they both were either already taken or way too busy to even keep up with a relationship. 

Your mind wandered over to the other people at the cafe. A few of them were familiar to you, seeing them on campus or in a class a couple times.  A handful of them, the regulars, you just memorized their faces and their voices due to the amount of times they’ve been at the cafe. At the top of your head you mentally put them down on a list even if some of their names were unknown to you. 

You wondered if that person always was in the cafe the same time as you were or if they just paid beforehand and told Minho to give the food item to you when you came in. 

Then your mind, as much as you told it not to, shifted towards the idea that maybe it was Minho. You laughed out a bit, covering your mouth with your forearm. Maybe you were pretty stupid for thinking that. Out of all the girls that gawked over him at the cafe, him choosing you would be the funniest joke known to man. It’s impossible. 

As if you were physically writing in a notepad, you flipped the page full of the potential admirers and at the top of the page wrote ‘Reasons it could be Minho.’ This was partly just a way to joke about it, easing the tension you created within yourself. But then you also wanted to see the actual possibility of it being Minho. With this, you were literally digging your own grave. It was like you unconsciously wanted to get your hopes up. Even if you knew there was a chance of getting hurt at the end, you continued anyway. 

One: He’s the only one I actually have had a conversation with in the cafe. Then your mind contradicted itself and the idea that an admirer didn’t need to be someone you’ve talked to. 

Two: Is it a coincidence that the treats were often my favourites? But then again, maybe your admirer just noticed that you always get those specific pastries. 

Three: His reactions when he hands me them are suspicious. Then maybe Minho feels nothing for me and loves being the wingman for your admirer. Minho did seem to be the kind to love romantic films… maybe he just loved watching the one he was a part of in real life. 

Four: Only Minho gives me them. Never any Hongjoong or Jungwoo… was that also a coincidence? Nothing to defend that one.

Though that last reason was kind of a reach, you pushed your brain to star it. That was the reason that maybe, maybe, Minho was actually your secret admirer. 

iv. 

You entered the cafe craving your afternoon caffeine. It was quieter than usual and less people occupied the tables. Only two other people sat down and Hongjoong was the only employee who was behind the counter. 

“Y/N!” He greeted as he slithered his way towards the cashier, “The usual?” 

You nodded and let your head drift towards the back of the store. Hongjoong chuckled quietly, “He’s not here today if you’re looking for Minho.” 

Panicking you use your hands to wave off his possible accusations and laugh sheepishly, “No no, it’s not like that. I just had a question for him.” You couldn’t help but feel heat creeping up your cheeks. If only you could reach over and punch the blonde headed boy for that. 

“What is it?” Once the satisfying beep sounded from the machine, you followed him to the end of the counter and leaned against the waiting area by the coffee machines. 

You hesitated for a bit before making up your mind. If your admirer did ask Minho to send you the gifts then maybe Hongjoong has seen him too, “I wanted to ask him who’s been giving me those freebies.” 

A smirk crept up onto Hongjoong’s face, hands busy with making coffee. His smirk transitioned into a small smile, one in which you could basically read that he knew of the person. 

“Spill,” you begged. A pout had naturally overtook your face, eyes growing big in hopes it’d fool Hongjoong into revealing who it was. 

“You know I can’t tell you, right?” He gave you a brief ‘are you kidding me?’ look before he went back to working. 

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?” 

“It’s a secret,” he shrugged, pouting his own lips, “Why do you want to know anyways?” His reply reminded you of Minho’s reply when you asked him yourself. Secret. 

“I wanna make up for all the stuff they’re giving me,” you watched as Hongjoong effortlessly poured the beverage into a glass mug before he slid it gently over to you, “Can’t you give me a hint?” Your voice slightly echoed in the cafe. Either that or you were just thinking things. 

The boy stood back and rested his hands on his hips. Head lifting, he furrowed his eyebrows and hummed, “Hmm, let me think…” 

You leaned forward as if he were about to tell you a deep secret, eager to gain knowledge that could possibly help eliminate some of the potentials on your mental list. 

“He…” Hongjoong mirrored your figure, bending down against the counter. He glanced around, acting like people were close enough to hear before he spoke quietly, “Goes to this cafe.”

You gasped and flicked his finger lightly, “No shit.”

Bursting out laughing, he pushed himself off of the counter to stand back up, winking, “You should’ve seen your face!... I told you, it’s a secret. I’d tell you if I could but I’m loyal.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes, “Okay Kim Hongjoong, whatever you say… thanks for the drink by the way.” He was still in a fit of laughter when you turned to sit at your usual table. 

You laid out the things you needed to finish, making sure you didn’t knock over the beverage at the end of the table. With long hours ahead of you, you needed every drop that was sitting in that cup… and maybe a few refills too. 

The world around you was willingly blocked out as you had your earphones plugged in and playing loud. You weren’t aware of the volume, but the people who were sitting in the cafe probably heard the heavy parts of the song. You didn’t care, it put you in the zone. Being fueled with caffeine and being placed in a different atmosphere other than the stuffy air of your apartment, these factors really did help motivate you to work. 

If it hadn’t been for the silence in between the songs, you wouldn’t have noticed the stranger sitting in front of you, trying to get your attention. Startled, you tugged roughly at the chord of your earphones and smiled sheepishly, “Oh I’m sorry, how long have you been there for?” 

You really had no idea how in the hell this boy placed himself there without your knowledge. It made you wonder how easy it would have been for kidnappers to just take you, or for someone to fish out some money from your bag. 

“Not long,” he shyly smiled, “I’m Minjun.” The longer you stared at him, the more you recognized him as someone from one of your classes. You probably took one glance at him and never again. Not on purpose, though. 

“Y/N,” you nodded your head, fingers not leaving the surface of your laptop, “Um… may I ask why you came here?” 

Minjun’s eyes twinkled, remembering why he hauled himself there in the first place, “I – uh – overheard you talking to him,” He pointed over at Hongjoong who was preoccupied with something entertaining on his phone, “About an admirer.” 

He had suddenly stolen all your attention, reeling it in like it was a fish. You nodded. He noticed your eyes light up as well, “Yeah. It’s been frustrating for me, not knowing who it is.”

Was I really speaking that loud? Damn. 

“What if I told you it was me?” Minjun had one of those smiles that begged for attention. It was that beautiful and he knew it by the way he smiled at you. 

Oh. 

It wasn’t a disappointed ‘oh.’ Sure a small part of you had hoped for Minho to be telling you this, but you weren’t disappointed that it’s Minjun. It was better that it was him than a complete stranger. 

“Is it really?” You feel the corners of your mouth being pulled up gently. All those little items of food, the way they made your heart flutter, the thought put into it… it was all Minjun? 

He nodded bashfully, “I was going to tell you later on but from how frustrated you sounded, I guess it’d be better sooner than later.”

“H-how can I make it up to you?” You blurted, “I’m really thankful for all those gifts.” 

“A date? With me?” He suggested. Minjun played his own game of thumb war out of nervousness, waiting for your answer. 

A certain boy lingered at the back of your head, reminding you that he existed. But then Minjun still held that sweet smile on his and you were recalled that you wanted to make it up to him. If he wanted a date, then why not? 

“That would be nice.”

v.

Minho dropped off your usual and a mini croissant along with it. You couldn’t help but smile at the treat. You thought that upon revealing himself, Minjun would’ve stopped giving you the treats, but you were wrong. 

The barista sat across from you, letting out a loud groan to express the feeling of finally getting to sit down after hours of working, “Long time no see.” He was slumped down in the chair, eyes struggling to stay open as he watched you work. 

“It’s only been a week or so,” you laughed, shaking your head at his exaggeration. You continued to write whatever nonsense it was on your paper, not bothering to look at the exhausted look on Minho’s face.

He shrugged, “Feels like it. What have you been up to anyway?” Leaning over, he snooped at your work, humming in pretend fascination. 

“School,” you reply monotonically. You didn’t feel like telling Minho about Minjun. The presence of the croissant was enough to let you know that Minjun had probably told you himself. 

“I see,” he continued to look over your notes, leaning in closer to watch you jot down some definitions. Feeling his breath against your head, you raise your head out of curiosity, bumping your head hard against his forehead. Minho jumped back, holding his hand against his forehead, in turn, you hold the crown of your head. 

“Oh shit I’m sorry!” you gasped. You leaned forward to get a proper look of him, alarmed at the sudden incident. If your head hurt as much as it did now, you wondered how his forehead felt. 

“It’s okay,” he chuckled lightly, rubbing it in circles, “It was an accident.” His eyes were squeezed tight and lips pressed together into a thin line. 

“You sure you're okay? You look like you’re in pain,” You continued to look at him, concerned. 

“I swear I–“ 

“Hey Y/N!” 

Looking up at the entrance of the cafe, your attention turns to Minjun who’s waving at you, smile lighting up the room. He was slowly making his way towards your table, eyes drawn to Minho’s hunched figure. 

Once he got to your table, Minho finally noticed the presence of someone else, eyes trailing from Minjun’s shoes to his face. He couldn’t hide his confusion, face twisting into an expression neither you or Minjun noticed, “Hey, I missed you after class earlier.”

“Sorry, I was in a hurry. I’ll wait for you next time,” you grinned. 

Minho couldn’t help but regret not prolonging his pain. It was like you had suddenly forgotten about the incident not even thirty seconds ago. To him it seemed like all your attention was on this new boy. 

“Gotta get back,” he whispered to you. 

“I’ll talk to you later?” 

He did a tiny salut, standing up and excusing himself from both you and Minjun. Taking this opportunity, Minjun slid into the same seat, fixing his stuff alongside yours. 

“Who is that?” Minho hopped smoothly over the counter, taking his place beside Jungwoo who had his mind set on fixing a drink for a customer. Minho was only asking because you’ve never brought a guy in with you. You were always alone. 

Jungwoo shrugged, bending down slightly to get to eye level with the cup, “I’ve seen him a few times. Don’t know who he is though.” Scraping some out of place foam off of the top, he placed the drink gently in front of the customer who had been waiting patiently.

Moving his eyes towards the both of you, he kept the direction of his head down at the cashier, pretending to count the non-existent money in his hand. 

“Don’t worry about him,” Jungwoo couldn’t help but laugh at how his friend was acting. Like a protective, almost jealous boyfriend, though Minho wasn’t aware of his actions, “What if they’re just partners for a project or something?”

Partners for a project looking like that? Pfft. Minho glared at his co-worker, waving him off, annoyed, “I’m not worrying abo–”

Jungwoo eyed Minho with a soft yet threatening expression. It looked like he was reading any thought that seemed to appear in Minho’s head, “He’s not going to ruin your plan, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“How do you know that?” 

“I just know,” Jungwoo urged, “This is just a sign you should tell Y/N that you’re that admirer she keeps asking about. It won’t hurt, you know. What if she chooses you over him?”

Jungwoo had a point. But for some reason, the presence of this other boy threatened Minho. He was even more afraid to ask you out compared to when he hadn’t crossed paths with you.

vi.

“Hello?” You tapped the back end of your pencil against your notebook, staring out at the street full of busy people. 

“Y/N!” Minjun greeted through the phone. 

You smiled, “What’s up? Why’d you call?”

“Wanna eat out tonight? It’s a Friday and I know you worked hard this week.”

Preferring some good food instead of the repetitive instant ramen, you accepted Minjun’s invite and quickly ended the call to get home to fix yourself up. 

Standing up, you didn’t notice that someone had been standing behind you, causing you to stumble clumsily over their feet. 

“Woah there,” Minho laughed. He caught your wrist to steady you, “Where are you going in such a hurry?” You had noticed that his apron wasn’t tied around his waist and he had a jacket sitting over his shoulders, “Home. You scared me!”

“Home? I’ll walk you.” He picked up the remaining books on the table and handed them to you for you to place in your bag, “My shift is done.” He waited for your answer as you zipped your bag up and swung it over your shoulder.

“Sure, I’d appreciate that,” you smiled. He gestured for you to lead the way, trailing behind you not long after. Once out of the cafe, he quickened his pace to walk next to you, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets and away from the late winter air. 

“So why were you actually in a hurry?” He looked down at you, “That excited to sleep or something?”

You chose not to look back at him, afraid to complete the eye contact, but you hummed and smiled, “Nope, I’m going out.”

Minho held himself back from asking any more questions. Instead he settled with a, “Oh that’s cool.” In the back of his mind, he could guess that you were going out with that guy he saw the other day. 

“Yeah, I’m happy. Only time I’m out of the house is at school or the cafe,” you skipped a bit in your step and tightened your grip on your bag’s straps out of slight excitement. 

Minho didn’t reply. It wasn’t like he wasn’t happy for you if you were dating that guy, he was just drowning at the thoughts drenching his head. Didn’t you like your secret admirer? Even if you didn’t like him, didn’t you at least wanted to have that special spot open for your admirer? It didn’t make sense. It’s like this other boy came out of nowhere and interfered with his play. 

A poke at his side interrupted his train of thought, causing him to jump dangerously close to the curb. Laughing, you held him from going any further, “I meant to catch your attention not almost kill you!”

Minho looked down at your hand holding his forearm gently, “You almost did!”

You let out another fit of laughter and let go of him, “You looked deep in thought and I couldn’t help but ask what’s got your face to look like this.” Planting yourself into one spot on the street, you fix your face into one identical to Minho’s. 

“I don’t look like that when I’m thinking,” he gasped, slapping his cheeks as if it would keep it from distorting that way. 

You raised a brow, “Aha, that’s what you think but in actuality, you do. My eyes are witnesses.” Your apartment building crawled closer and closer and with each step you began to forget about your dinner with Minjun. 

“Then this is what you look like when you’re focused,” Minho mocks. He pulls at his cheeks and sticks out his tongue ever-so-slightly out of the corner of his mouth. 

“So I look like roadkill when I’m focusing.”

No you look cute when you’re focused. “Yup,” he tapped at your temple, “That studying is helping after all.” 

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head as you laugh, mood slowly declining at the arrival at your apartment building, “Bye Minho, thanks for walking me home.” You make your way towards the front door. 

“I-I’ll see you later?” he quickly blurted. 

You grinned and turned to him at the front steps of your building. Under the setting sun, the light bounced softly off of Minho’s cheekbones, eyes slightly squinted. He waved like a young child, jacket hanging loosely from his shoulder and hair being thrown around by the subtle wind in the air. Something from this simple sight made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. It was a weird feeling but you liked it. 

You really did wish that he was your secret admirer.

You grinned and waved back, “See you later.”

vii.

“So… how did you think of doing that whole secret admirer thing for me?” All secret admirers have their motives. Whether really cheesy or sweet, to something as simple as ‘you just really caught my attention,’ all answers were worth a listen. And you wanted to hear Minjun’s reason. 

Taking a bite out of his food, you didn’t notice the look of slight panic from his face as his eyes darted around the restaurant to conjure up a reason. 

“I…” he jabbed his fork a few handful of times into his pasta as he used his head to think, “I didn’t realize how much I liked you until I started to see you often between the cafe and school. I guess I was too shy to talk to you so I guess I just used this way to win your attention.”

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heat up at his explanation. He did that just for your attention? Judging by the person Minjun was, he didn’t need to spend all that money on you, “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything… it’s just nice to tell you how I felt,” he offers you a genuine smile before taking another bite of his food. 

“Actually I have one request,” you were afraid to ask him. You had no idea if he’d be offended by it or not, but it wasn’t hard to do it. He hummed in response, mouth still full of food, “Would it be okay for you to stop giving me the treats? It’s not that I’m not grateful for them, which I am and I’m sure the baristas at the cafe let you know that, but I feel bad because you keep on spending the money for me when I have no idea how I’m supposed to give back all the time.”

By the end of your request, Minjun finished his bite, “If that’s what you want,” he gulps, “But that won’t stop me from giving you one once in a while.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully and took a bite of your own food. Quickly chowing it down, you questioned him again, “How did you know what pastries I liked? There was not one I didn’t like.”

A bystander would have the right to call you oblivious when you didn’t notice the blank look on Minjun’s face. He was unable to think of an answer quick, losing control of his expressions even in front of you. 

“Lucky guess,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his water, “Maybe I’m psychic.”

You pinned a loose grin onto your face. Even when you tried to do so, the smile didn’t reach your eyes. The answer wasn’t one you were expecting. You tried to let it fly past your head, not wanting to ruin the moment between you and Minjun. But it didn’t mean you’d forget about his answer forever. 

viii.

Even with your specific request to Minjun about the free food items he’d be giving you, every time you chose to hang and study in the cafe, you received a pastry that you hadn’t paid for. Like always, Minho made sure each and every one of the pastries were warm, placing it gently on the last little space left on your table among your things. 

You were genuinely thankful for the constant present being gifted to, but you wished that Minjun really did listen to your request. It wasn’t hard to stop sending the message-less ‘pastry grams.’ And it wasn’t like you guys don’t see each other at all. In fact, you were able to see him every other day during class and in the cafe about twice a week. 

Minho hissed quietly when he feels hot water come in contact with the skin of his hands. He pulled his arm closer to his body and fanned it as if it would help the pain subside. 

“And that’s why you need to pay attention when working,” Hongjoong slid to his side and started cleaning up the mess Minho made on the counter. 

Squinting at his hand, he noticed how the scorching water had left a red imprint on his hand, “I was.” He picked up the coffee cup and dropped it into the sink, grabbing another one to start again. 

“Having your eyes planted on the couple isn’t being focused,” Hongjoong leaned against the counter and chuckled at the sight of his friend’s distraught face. 

Minho glared at him, “Don’t call them a couple. That’s gross.” 

“They seem like it though,” Hongjoong pouted in a way that was ‘all knowing.’ This expression was wiped clean off of his face when Minho sent him a glare that could probably kill a person if he tried, “I’m joking! I thought your secret admirer plan was working.”

Minho frowned at the thought of his failing plot, turning away from Hongjoong, “I thought it was too. But apparently Y/N likes face to face interaction more than those stupid ass pastries.” 

Hongjoong gasped, “Jungwoo did you hear that?”

Jungwoo crashed through the back door, causing it to swing way off of its route, “Hear what?”

Hongjoong reached for Minho’s elbow, pulling the self-doubting boy towards him, “He called his treats plan stupid!” 

This time, Jungwoo gasped, “Don’t say that! You know damn well it was working.”

Minho shrugged, “If you call that working then yeah sure.” He jutted his head towards you and Minjun and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

Hongjoong was about to speak up, only to be interrupted by the sound of an impatient customer clearing his throat at the register. 

Minho couldn’t help but blame himself for holding off asking you out and being the coward he was. If he had been brave enough to ask out in the first place, then maybe you wouldn’t have been sitting across from Minjun in the first place. 

He let the fake smile fall from his face and turned towards the customer, “What would you like for today?” 

ix.

“Bye Jungwoo.” Minho was about to hop over the counter like always, only he was stopped by Jungwoo holding him down by his wrist, “Wait where are you going?” 

The cafe was close to empty, the only customers inside were you and Minjun helping each other study for an upcoming exam. The sky outside was nearing pitch black, the beautiful light blue being pushed down by the darker shade. 

“Home. Where else?” raising a brow at his friend, he waited for a reply. He had a pack of ramen waiting for him at home and the faster he got home, the sooner he could cook and eat it. 

“But you haven’t given Y/N that,” Jungwoo pointed to a slice of banana bread sitting with the other cafe baked goods. 

“What’s the use if he’s here,” Minho reasoned, “It’s okay, I’ll just do it–”

“I’ll give it to her when you leave,” Jungwoo offered, “I know what you’re thinking.” Minho grinned, and glanced between you and the banana bread as Jungwoo laid a hand on his shoulder to assure him. He knew Minho was afraid to answer him so he took his silence as a green light.

Minho bid him another goodbye before turning to the door.

While you looked down at your notes, you spotted Minho making his way to the door at the corner of your eye. You had no idea if you should look up or not. He hadn’t come up to you to talk like how he usually would. You couldn’t help but think that he was mad at you for something. Or maybe he just wasn’t having it at all lately. 

Nevertheless, you fought the thoughts at the back of your head and still looked up to smile at him, waving at him. You caught Minho’s eye and he turned, allowing a wide smile to show up on his face. His wave was brief, but not long after, he pulled the cafe door open and left without a single word. Your smile faltered into a subtly baffled look, confused at his behaviour. You knew that if Minho had something on his mind, he’d choose to tell you.

“We can finish this one last topic and then we can leave,” Minjun yawned, “I’m getting really tired.”

“That sounds good,” you agreed, flipping your book’s page. Even if your mind should be trained on the bolded words of your textbook, you still couldn’t wave off Minho from lingering at the back of your head.

Halfway down the page, Jungwoo had gone up to your table, a smile stretched upon his face, “Sorry, I’m just here to–” He put down a nicely wrapped slice of banana bread by your hand, patting it gently as he did, “Give this to you. From your admirer.”

“Ah, thanks Jungwoo,” you said. He nodded and walked back to the counter to begin cleaning up. You turned to Minjun who kept his eyes between the lines of the notes, “Minjun, I told you that you don’t need to give me these anymore.” The cafe was so quiet that your voice had accidentally come out louder than you intended, catching the attention of today’s messenger boy easily. 

Jungwoo didn’t know how to react at first. He was caught off guard by the miscommunication and the mistake you had made. 

“What?” Jungwoo left the dirty rag at the counter, inching closer to you by the second, “Him? Give you these?” At realization, Minjun’s eyes widened, unable to speak up.

“Minjun’s my secret admirer… h-he told me two weeks ago,” you quickly explained to Jungwoo, forcing ourselves a nervous laugh. The look on Jungwoo’s face was one you’ve never seen before and it scared you. You’ve always known him as the angel of the three, Hongjoong being the cheeky boy, and Minho was one you liked to call heartthrob because of how he was with other women. But this Jungwoo, he looked like an angry puppy. 

“No… you’ve got it wrong,” he retorted stiffly, “He’s not your admirer.”

When your gaze fell upon Minjun, he avoided eye contact, “Minjun is this true?” Your heart was beating fast. And not in a good way. Mixing up with fatigue, confusion, and the realization of probably being lied to hurt your chest and you didn’t know what to say. 

“Y-yes,” Minjun whispered, “But I can explain… I truly do like you and I… found this as my opportunity to get to you. I’m really sorry and–”

“So you ruined someone else’ opportunity, which they worked hard for, just so you can make a move on me?” You were angry, though you chose not to raise your voice. He nodded.

“Selfish. No offense, Minjun, but that’s a dick move. I don’t like liars,” you begin to clean your stuff up, “I can’t believe I’ve been sticking around you for the past few weeks.”

“I-I know I was being stupid, and I’m truly sorry,” he apologized, “Please forgive me.”

“You know what? I should’ve known you were lying when you couldn’t give me a proper reason on how you knew which pastries I liked,” you stood up and looked down at him, “ ‘Lucky guess’? What kind of fucking answer is that? I’m sorry but I don’t want to be around someone like you. Goodbye.”

Pulling Jungwoo out of the cafe, tears brimming your eyes out of frustration, you turned to him and questioned, “Who is it?” There was a hint of desperation in your eyes that you didn’t mean to add. At this point you wanted to meet the person who truly worked hard to win you heart. 

“I think you already know it is… you just keep doubting yourself,” Jungwoo replied sneakily. The smirk on his was taunting and it actually somewhat scared you into thinking. It was Minho. 

“Minho?”

Jungwoo exaggerated a shrug, pouting, “Oh, I don’t know…” And with that Jungwoo confirmed it was the boy who your heart actually suspected this entire time. Lee Minho.

Thanking Jungwoo, you flew towards the direction of Minho’s house, not even minding the weight of your bag as you sprinted for your life. This whole time it had been Minho. It explained everything. How, aside from today, he had given you them himself. How he’d smiled a certain way when you received the treats. How he knew which ones were your favourite. It’s not because of a lucky guess… it was all because he knew you well like how you knew him well. You were glad it was him. 

You caught your breath before you rang the doorbell, trying to find the words to say. Your mind was alphabet soup. Words and letters all jumbled up. It could take you much longer than you wished to think of what to say. 

Before you could even think of at least a decent thing to blurt out, Minho opened the door, the smell of freshly cooked ramen drifting out the doorway.

“Y/N?” He blinked a few times to make sure you were real, “What are you doing here? Come in.”

You followed him inside, still not letting a word come out of your mouth. You figured it would be better to be sure of what you were going to say to this oblivious barista. He didn’t know why you were there. But you did. 

He gestured for you to sit down as he went straight for the stove, stirring the ramen slowly. “I’m here because,” you start quietly. You searched around the room, still unsure of what to say. When your eyes fell upon the bag at your feet, a lightbulb had lit up in your untidy brain, “I’m here because of… of this!” You slid the slice of banana bread onto his table and nodded, “Yeah, because of this.”

Minho laughed, “Because of banana bread? You know I don’t bake those myself right?” He reached for a bowl in his cupboard and looked back at you, “Do you want some ramen?”

“Just a little bit please,” You started playing with the slice of food, “I’m not here to complain about the bread.” You tried to muster up all the energy in your body to finally get to the point. The past fifteen minutes have been a rollercoaster ride. This was the second drop. 

“Then why are you here?” Minho seemed to have lost all of his brain cells, completely forgetting the conversation he had with Jungwoo before he left for home. 

“I’m here because I know you’re the one giving me this,” you hold up the bread, “And all the other ones before it.”

Minho choked, dropping the empty glass bowl in his hand. Crashing to the ground, he let out a shit before he went straight for a broom and dustpan. You make your way over to him, helping him out.

“H-how did you find out?” He continued to sweep the floor, making sure no glass shards were left behind. It was also an excuse to not look at you, afraid to make eye contact. What if you didn’t like him back and this was your way to reject him?

“Minjun… he pretended to be you,” you stood over him, silently asking for him to finally look at you, “He said he was the one giving me the pastries, and I believed him even when I had a hint of doubt in my heart.” 

Minho didn’t know what to say, so you took this as a chance to continue talking.

“I just found out now that he’s been lying… and Jungwoo, he didn’t tell me it was you but he… hinted it was.”

Finally Minho stood up. This time it was him that was towering over the other. His cheeks a tint of red, unknown to you if it was from bending down or the secrets being revealed. 

“Are you disappointed that it’s me?” His voice grew frail and you wanted to just throw your arms around him and tell him you weren’t. 

But you stopped yourself, “No. Of course not! I’m… I’m actually relieved that it’s you.” The bashful smile that slowly revealed itself on Minho’s face caused your heart to flutter. He bowed his head as it grew wider by the second. It was like he couldn’t keep his emotions in.

“S-so you like me back?” 

You took a step closer, making sure eye contact was complete between the two of you. You grabbed his hands and brought your lips to his firmly before pulling back. 

“How’s that for an answer?” He didn’t reply, “Minho?”

Minho stood in shock for a few moments, unable to take his eyes off of you. He held a hand up to his lips, tips of his ears turning beet red. Once reality kicked back in, he leaned forward himself and pressed his lips against yours the same way you did. 

After he pulled away he beamed, “So… Ramen?”

a/n: Please leave a like if you enjoyed this!

[amjcpvr]

Green Apple, Sadly.

“Green Apple for sure!” He calls out.

Guessing Skittle flavors is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my fucking life.

“Wrong!” I cackle and he continues to name the rest of the flavors, one after the other until he only has one choice left.

“Damn it, it was orange!” He cries and I laugh at him.

He scrunches his eyebrows at me, immediately bringing his competitiveness out. I smile, because this is definitely the Changbin I know.

He yells at me to close my eyes and I laugh before obeying and putting my palm out.

“If you get this right, I will say it’s wrong anyway,” he jokes, I hear the class go silent and he laughs nervously as he faces the professor.

“Haha, just kidding, guys, it was a joke,” I can’t help but to laugh because I can just see him fidgeting in his seat after suddenly being the center of attention.

“Grape!” I easily say as I swivel the small candy in my mouth. He groans and marks down another tally mark for the amount I got correct.

“Ten for ten!” I brag to him and he just rolls his eyes with a small smile.

I am about to place another skittle in his hand when he opens his mouth with his eyes closed.

“I think my sweaty palms are taking away the flavor, put it in my mouth!” He exclaims as he eagerly opens his mouth even wider.

My eyes widen and I tense up for a moment.

I have never felt this way before. My stomach begins feeling queasy and the back of my neck begins sweating like crazy.

I gulp and smile nervously.

I toss it into his mouth, carefully planning every angle so I don’t have to touch his lips.

“Strawberry?” He asks unsurely and looks at me with hopeful eyes.

I shake my head no with a big grin and he stomps his feet childishly.

He begins whining and I feel my chest squeeze. What was this feeling?

————————

“Hey! I’ve been meaning to introduce you two!” Changbin runs up to me and I smile the best I can because I already know what’s coming.

“This is her, babe,” He continues and the beautiful girl standing next to him smiles brightly. She’s everything he told me about.

I feel my lips shake and I clear my throat and try to compose myself.

I guess it’s my fault for working at a movie theatre.

“Nice to meet you! He literally never stops talking about you! Boy is whipped!” I try joking and it seems they both buy it.

They burst out into laughs and share a sweet kiss.

I hear someone clear their throat and their attention goes to my coworker now, Jisung. Who is also Changbin’s friend.

“Bro, order or get out of the line,” Jisung sternly says but Changbin takes no offense and instead laughs before ordering and I am finally free from that torture.

Why me?

————————

“Go team!” Someone sarcastically comments as they spot the baseball team walk by with their letterman’s jacket on. The school had organized a send off for their upcoming competition.

I keep my eyes wide as I search for the only guy I care for on the team. I start to get worried because he does not show up at all and almost the whole team has passed already.

Finally, I see him in the back walking with his girlfriend and Jisung. My smile shrinks visibly but I cannot take my eyes off of the sight anyway. He looks amazing in that jacket and he walks confidently, taking in his sudden moment of fame.

We meet eyes and he smiles widely. I want to look away but I can’t. It’s like he has bewitched me.

He raises a hand and waves it wildly. I send him a small smile and two thumbs up before mouthing out a ‘good luck’ and he responds with a loud ‘thanks’.

Something about that interaction is unmatchable to anything else. How was he able to spot me in such a huge crowd? Why did he reply to me when he was with his girlfriend?

He shouldn’t give me false hope.

————————

“They say you find your soulmate before you even turn 21,” he randomly comments as we sit beside each other studying.

“They say you should shut up and study,” I groan back. I am currently stressed with all these numbers and signs and this stupid calculator that has one too many functions.

“Do you think you’ve found yours?” He asks as he doodles around his notes, completely ignoring my words.

“I think you should study,” I repeat. I really do need to study because I’m failing class, but of course there is another reason for why I want him to be quiet, as well.

He seems to be bringing this type of thing up a lot nowadays and I am not comfortable with it at all.

“I think I’ve found mine,” he cryptically says but even the little ant walking on the table knows who he is talking about. The sparkle in his eyes gives it away easily.

“I’m going to my dorm, bye,” I comment and leave.

I should’ve never let the feelings get to me.

————————

“I don’t appreciate you talking about me behind my back,” I growl as I stare at him and even though I am mad pissed, I am also strongly hurt.

“I’m sorry. You’re right,” he easily accepts defeat and that just makes me even more mad.

“What were you talking to Seungmin about?” I ask as I increase our distance each time he wants to decrease it.

“It’s n-nothing,” he stutters. That means whatever they were talking about would make me very disappointed or even more pissed.

“Tell. Me.” I demand and he sighs.

He lowers his head as if he is ashamed of himself and takes a deep breath.

“He told me it looked like you were coming onto me and, honestly, I felt it too,” he whispers out. The answer is barely audible and I have to lean in to hear him clearly, but when I hear what he says I become a statue.

It is true. It is a hundred percent true and I have no right to call him out for it.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Changbin?” I have no right, but I do it anyway.

“I know! I’m sorry, I really am. I was stupid to even think about it,” he hurriedly says before I can burst on him.

“Is that why you’ve been asking me all these stupid questions? Our first impressions, soulmates, ideal type of boyfriend?” I roar as this time I walk towards him and he backs up.

“I can’t believe you think of me like that,” I laugh cynically and shake my head.

“I’m just an easy girl who loves breaking relationships up, huh? You happened to be my next victim so you were trying to catch me before I began to ruin your relationship. Thanks a lot,” I continue and glare straight at him.

His back hits the wall and I realize that he is not trying to defend himself and he’s just taking the hits.

“Don’t ever talk behind my back again,” I say and then I am out of there as if I was never there.

I realize that I need to maintain my distance from now on.

For everyone’s sake.

————————

“Does it hurt?” Jisung asks me out of nowhere.

I look at him weirdly and question what he means with my eyes.

“When he talks about his girlfriend in front of you?” He clarifies and I nod to acknowledge that I understood now.

“Yes, but it wakes me up. We’re so close to each other that sometimes I forget he’s taken. It makes me remember I have no chance with him and to stay in my lane,” I reply with a shrug as if my heart isn’t breaking into a million pieces just by thinking about it.

When he talks about her his eyes light up and he can go on for hours about her. He’s so proud of her and so whipped for her. She is everything to him. I stand zero chance. Always did, always will.

“That sucks,” he comments and ruffles his hair.

I chuckle. Oh yes indeed.

————————

“Dude, why have you been so distant?” He asks. We are currently in our criminology lecture and the professor is going on and on about how his wife is cheating on him.

“Honestly?” I ask him. I didn’t want to tell him the truth but that’s all I could tell him. No more lies.

I’m going to look like a fool, completely going against everything I had yelled at him for only a couple weeks earlier. But around him, I am always the fool anyway.

He nods as if that was an obvious factor to include.

“I…” I hesitate and look away from his stare.

He always looks at me straight in the eyes and I hate that about him. He never gives me an opportunity to defend myself. He knows I am weak to his beautiful dark eyes.

“I started catching feelings and I couldn’t handle it. It would just bring problems to everyone, so I decided to put some space between us,” I say looking straight back at him. He wants the truth? Well here it is.

He sits there shocked for what seems like forever before he finally clears his throat and looks away.

I gulp because even though I seemed sure of my decision and insisted on telling the truth, I was very insecure from that reaction.

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the class and when it finally ends we leave without saying goodbye to each other.

This is for the best.

————————

“Congratulations, you guys made it! Good luck in your next semester, or in life, whichever is next for you all!” The professor ends class and I smile.

Finally, we can have time off, something I’ve longed for since Changbin and I had parted ways.

After the day I confessed, we stopped, everything.

No more sitting by each other, no more catching up, it was like we were never even friends.

I still see him sometimes, but always from afar.

I look over to him. He’s sitting beside Jisung, finishing up something on his laptop before closing it and standing.

I stay seated and pull my phone out pretending to be busy.

“I’ll, I’ll catch up to you later,” he tells Jisung and I gulp as I feel Jisung turn to me.

Jisung simply agrees and exits the lecture hall.

Finally, I stand and begin walking across my row to exit the room.

I see him out of the corner of my eye, getting closer, so I increase my speed.

Things were finally going to be okay again, why did he want to ruin it?

“Hey! I’m sorry!” He yells right as the door closes. I run out before he even has a chance of speaking to me.

I see Jisung standing by the door and he only hands me a tissue before walking away.

I hurriedly run in the opposite direction before Changbin could find me again.

Now, it was truly over.

Finally.

Sadly.

[lostonehero]

Wally is certain q-Victor at this point is going crazy, or he is uncomfortable where they are working. Its been a month of trying to find the source of the ash smell behind the church, and even with all the soil samples deep ditches, and even several rainstorms the smell persists.

"Are you sure you're ok, you keep looking behind you like something is going to get you." Wally sighs filling the hole back up. "Not everyone is out to get you even with what conspiracies you believe in."

Wally coukd barely hear the response since Victor seemed more standoffish, and small out of his hero persona. Granted the man was taller then him, he just looked like he was lost sometimes. He was also jumpy, not in the way a paranoid person was, but more like a survivor of abuse was.

"I'm not fond of churches." Victor says in a quiet voice.

Wally pauses not wanting to tempt fate asking why, but the curiosity ate away at his hesitation. "Why? Did your family make you go every Sunday?"

Victor turned around and approached Wally, and suddenly Wally felt really small and scared.

"I didn't have a family. My mom was a victim of rape and she was forced to give me up and sent away." Victor pauses seemingly unsure of what to say next. "The church I grew up in wasn't the best." He swallows and his face is a mix of sadness and fear.

Wally was taken aback, he didn't expect for Victor to tell him something that personal. He really was getting more nervous feeling like he shouldn't know this. He opens his mouth trying to think of the right words and he can't. He can only ask a question. "Want to get some food?"

.........

Victors thoughts were racing a mile a minute. Why did he tell Wally that? Why did he even feel comfortable enough to talk about himself? They were coworkers, not friends. He didn't have friends, just a aunt and a uncle who found him by accident. Why did he tell him, and why did he agree to a meal after the fact, they both stunk of ash with no idea why, and this isn't the first time Wally has asked him to eat after a day of searching. Well first he chalked it up to Wally having a very fast metabolism due to his speed, but it wasn't just food sometimes he asked to see a movie, or even watch him song in hub city.

Wally was planning something for him, and he didn't know why he was following along. It could be a trap for all he knew. Vic sighed and took another bite from his burger.

"So Vic do you have any new theories why the ash smell persist?" Wally asks breaking the silence Vic was using to stew in his own thoughts.

He looks up swallowing and just sighs. "It doesn't make any sense we have looked at every angle. Even doused the entire place with water. We know that the smell stops in a 33 feet diameter around the church, yet the church...." he stops as a uncomfortable feeling drenched him. "The church isn't even corrupt as far as I researched, they even chip in for taxes which they are exempt from."

Wally gives Victor a look. "You looked into the church?"

"I don't trust the church as a institution, nor as a separate entity." Victor growls trying to get his thoughts in order before he spoke again. "I told you I have had bad experiences with them."

Wally pauses and takes a French fry from Victor's plate and slowly munches on it. "So we are back to square one?"

Vic nods and pushes his plate away leaving his burger half finished. He didn't feel comfortable with a mystery that didn't lead anywhere even with a lot of effort. It didn't sit right with him. He looked up and watched Wally eat his food that he left. This had become common place after a long day together, he didn't know if he like that this was becoming a habit.

..........

Wally was on watchtower duty and he swore he could feel eyes on him at all times. He couldn't understand how Vic handles the rumor mill that spins just about him. Now Wally is the talk of the tower, the flash and question working together for over a month now. Everyone is treating this like a scandal.

"Wally how many times do I need to tell you to keep your elbows off the control table." A stern voice alerts Wally to the possibility that the heavy sighing wasn't his own.

"Oh Bats hey I wasn't slacking off." He gives a hearty fake laugh

Batman for all his dark persona sounded more like a disappointed dad dealing with unruly children. "Wally why have you been working with the Question? I understand the smell of ash in that area is concerning but there is no source and you shouldn't have gotten him involved."

Wally shrinks back feeling like a kid getting a lecture on why smoking is bad for you. He takes a deep breath then gives a heavy sigh. "Just because you have no information on him like you do on everyone else in the league doesn't mean he is dangerous besides I actually know his name and face." As soon as that came out of his mouth he wanted to stuff the words back in.

"You saw his face?"

"What no, you misheard Bats." Wally failed trying to lie getting the attetion of the boy scout in the room.

"You mean excuse my rudeness, that crackpot theorist. You actually saw his face Wally?" Superman came closer to the pair inserting himself into the conversation.

Wally wished he was anywhere but here at this moment. "You know what I forgot something or other.... uh bye." And he ran for his life to the cafeteria spotting Vic sitting with the three heros he seem to have befriended.

.......

"Que so is it true you've been hanging out with the flash?" Huntress smiles under her mask enjoying the new gossip around the watchtower.

Victor looked up, but nobody could tell in his mask. "Helena we are working on a case of a ask smell that lingers even after rain. I highly doubt the rumors are as scandalous as you seem to think."

Black canary didn't seem to buy this answer from what Victor could see. His eyes then trailed to Green arrow who looked like he was trying not to seem interested but he was failing at that. Vic gave a heavy sigh.

"Oh so there is more?" Helena smirks. "Spill the tea Que, I didn't know you swung for the other team."

If they could see his face they woukd see confusion. "This isn't a sports game Helena, we are coworkers."

Now all three of them were giving him a look. He didn't bring up the concept of sports into the conversation. Why were they acting like he was the crazy one?

"Que that isn't what she meant." Dinah gave a odd look. "She meant that you are into men."

"I don't understand why my homksexuality is a part of the conversation now." Vic sighs rubbing his temples. "When I asked for help on this issue I didn't think you guys would make it a conversation on my sexuality."

Victor just sighed and got up. "I appreciate the confirmation that you also smell the ash in that area, but besides that you guys aren't helping." He frowns under his mask. "I thought I was clear that I enjoyed men when I rejected your offer for a date Helena."

"I honestly just thought I wasn't your type, I guess I wasn't completely off." Helena sighs sliding a 20$ to Oliver.

Dinah mirrored the action, and Oliver just smiles. "See i can bet proper Question. By the way are we still on for sports this weekend?"

"You mean a loud argument over the game that consist of nothing but physical combat masked poorly as a popular staple of American culture to make the black market rich with gambling, then yes." Vic nods and leaves but smacks into Wally.

"Shoot sorry V-Question yeah Question I'mlateandreallyneedtogo." He speeds off leaving Victor's notes on the ground where they fell.

The three heroes behind Victor shared a look of shock when he turned to face them. It only took the beginning of another name to the Question for there faces to light up in recognition.

"YOU GAVE HIM YOUR NAME." The three shouted causing the cafeteria to erupt in loud conversation.

Victor had many things to regret now, more so half his notes are covered in a spilled soda making them useless, and he needed to find a new lead, and maybe take a break from staying in the watchtower.

........

Its been a week since that incident, Victor was in his own apartment trying to salvage his notes. He was exhausted more so then normal. Maybe it was because he hasn't been sleeping, or maybe its because his own skin feels tight from suppressing his demonic side, and not letting his other parts out. He stands up and just walks to his bed and faceplants into his bed.

He hear his window open, and he didn't really care for who came through it. "Still punishing yourself, or did you forget to release your other form again."

"Micheal get out of my apartment." Victor really did not need a visit from his uncle.

Micheal takes a feather and stabs it into Victor's back causing black horns sprout and curl like ram horns on Victor's skull along with black spines down his spine to a long black tail with a purple flame on the end, which wasn't anything to the large boney black wings that erupted from his back knocking over his lamp, and theory board creating a mess in the surprisingly spotless apartment.

"Feeling better tired eyes?" Micheal says taking out a flask. "So I actually followed up with the thing you asked me to do, and what I can tell you is." He takes a large swig of his flask. "Is that you are fucking lucky you haven't been caught."

That actually got Victor to sit up curling his wings around him like a cloak. "Caught? Micheal what are you talking about?"

"Well if you ask me there's been many angels on high alert in that area, something uh something about the realms being thin or some shit." Micheal shrugs.

Victor sighs and cringes at the smell of alcohol coming off the angel. "Why should I believe you? You're nothing but a drunkard who dwells on the past."

Micheal raises his brow and gets a crude smile on his face. "Oh my you met someone there."

"He's just a coworker from the watchtower nothing special." Victor lays back down

And the smile leaves Micheal's face. "Right well uh since I'm here want to play some chess?"

Victor glances back at the drunk, and just sighs. Micheal was a ruined man when they met, Gabriel was a much better conversationalist, and wasn't so crude. They were the closest he ever got to a family he guessed, but it still hurt that they still hid things from him like he was some sort of child who hasn't gone through ages of abuse and had to grow up fast. They only found him by accident on the street.

"Kid i can see the gears moving in your head." Micheal forces him to sit up and summons a chess board and pieces and a table to set it down on. "If I win you eat and shower, you win I'll leave."

Victor frowns, it was always the same bet with him, and he always let Micheal win. Maybe he did have a soft spot for the drunk even if he reeks. Besides he gave him some good information regarding this case. He needed to be more careful, and maybe use Wally in his place that could work better for both to solve the mystery. Thats a great idea he should inform Wally at once. When did he start calling Wally, Wally, and not the flash or coworker in his mind.

"Checkmate." Michael's voice threw Victor back into reality. "What kind of food you want kid?"

"What? Oh uh something healthy i guess." Victor hums getting lost in his thoughts again.

Micheal gave a look to the younger man full of concern and maybe a bit if hope.

.......

Micheal might be a drunk, and desperately wants to be fallen, but he still cared for his nephew. He watched Victor invest himself in a text conversation with someone he had gotten trust enough to give his name, face, and even number to. Maybe he was finally able to move foward and trust.

"So who the lucky man you're after." Micheal smiled seeing Vic sputter and hiss his wings spreading out in protest embarrassment.

"He is a coworker we've been looking at that area you keep telling me is off limits, so Wally investigates and I take the the research." Vic huffs and looks away.

Micheal knew he was only one of the few who was close enough to Victor to get him to feel safe enough to get riled up. However this new man in the picture has got Victor to keep a stupid smile on his face. He knows its been about a week since his last visit, but Victor looks healthier, well he looks like he has been eating better. Without the benefit of his inhuman nature he would be skin and bone.

Micheal sighs to himself taking another drink, his thoughts drifting to the boys mother his sister. He still hasn't even told him who his mother is, does this make him bad? Probably. But when Victor told them both that he was forced to watch the tapes of his mom being violated and giving birth, that alone made his blood boil. So they look after Victor, they may of found him a bit too late but hey better then nothing.

"What no witty retort? You seem off today Micheal, you've been staring at your flask more then drinking it." Victor frowns taking the empty plates and cleaning them.

Micheal sighs. "This place looks too clean Victor, its like you don't even live here." He looks back towards Victor who has a frown on his face.

"Are you actually worried that I'm looking into the ash place?"

Micheal wasn't expecting that question, nor the quiet meek tone Victor used when asking. "Well yeah everybody up in the clouds is freaking out about it. I just don't want to see you in the crossfire. A human like your so called coworker wouldn't matter to them. You being well mostly demon however would." Micheal grimaced his flask is empty. He could just refill it but he didn't have the energy today.

Micheal watched Victor pause drying off the dishes. "Should I thank you for caring?"

Micheal shakes his head "nah I'm just trying to be your guardian angel" he gives a crude smile making Victor give a small one in return.

Thats all he needed before he headed to another bar for the night. "Goodnight kid"

Victor just waved him goodbye and shut the window closed behind him.

[soundofseventeen]

Dessert Cakes (Lee Chan)

Hello! Here’s another request for the day! Hopefully you are all doing well! 💛💚

Requested by anon

33: “Don’t cry.”

You glanced at the clock, internally screaming a little bit. How was this day not over yet? You couldn’t believe this day was actually taking this long. You were having an all around terrible day where absolutely nothing seemed to be going right. You still had another half hour before you could go home and curl up in a ball. 

You were able to push through your classes, internally screaming over all the tasks that were being added to your already busy schedule. You were able to keep your cool all through your shift, not letting all the rude customers get to you. Everyone seemed to be in a horrible mood today and decided that they needed to take it out on you. 

Thankfully, no one had been in your shop for a while, and you just had to push through this last half hour until your coworker came in. You just internally screamed to yourself, silently pleading with every person who walked past the window to not come in. You always let out a sigh when they continued to walk, not even glancing into the store. 

You just watched as the minutes ticked by, hoping that they would somehow find a way to move quicker. But alas, they did not. They moved at the same speed as they normally did. Heck, you were pretty sure some minutes decided to be jerks and move at a slower speed just to mess with you. 

You glanced up as the door opened, seeing a boy walk in. You let out a small groan, sitting up straight. 

“Welcome.” You called out, the boy looking at you. He gave you a small smile, waving a hand and then proceeding to walk down one of the snack aisles. You slouched down again. You had 10 more minutes left. Someone had to come in when you had 10 minutes left. 

He came up to the counter, setting a drink, some ramen and a couple dessert cakes on the counter, smiling at you as he swung his backpack forward and started to dig. 

You sighed and scanned the items, putting them in a bag and telling him the total. He handed you some cash, you going to get his change. 

“You’re Y/N, right?” He said, you glancing at him. 

“Yeah.” You said, pointing at your nametag. 

“Oh, right.” He chuckled, nodding his head. “But I meant… I uh, we have a class together.” You looked at him for a second, thinking he did look kind of familiar. 

“Oh yeah, hey.” You said, handing him some change. 

“It’s uh… It’s Chan.” He said, you nodding your head. “What did you think of that lecture today?” 

“It was okay.” You shrugged, Chan nodding. 

“Yeah, I didn’t follow that much. I mostly watched my friend play minesweeper on his laptop.” He chuckled, you raising an eyebrow. 

“He still plays minesweeper?” You asked, Chan nodding. 

“Sometimes. He’s actually kind of good at it. It’s weird.” Chan said, smiling a bit. “I never really understood how to play it.” 

“Me neither.” You replied, handing him the bag. He thanked you as he took it, then looked at you. 

“I uh… Are you okay?” He asked, you looking back at him again. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“You just… I don’t know, you seemed off in class today and you kind of seem in a mood.” Chan said, you shrugging your shoulders. 

“I don’t know what to tell you.” You said, Chan nodding. 

“Okay… Well, I guess I will see you in class then. Thanks.” He said, turning to leave the store. You waved, watching as he left the store. You slouched again, seeing you still had a couple more minutes until your coworker came in. 

You sat up a minute later, thankful that your coworker had come in only to see it was Chan again. 

“Oh, did you forget something?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at him. 

“No, I just wanted to give you this.” He said, placing one of the cakes he just bought on the counter. “You seem to need it more.”

“Uh… I can’t-” 

“Yeah you can. It’ll make you feel better.” He smiled, you looking from the cake to him. That was so nice of him to do. 

“I…” You said, looking down again as you felt tears form in your eyes. Great. You made it this far into the day without crying and now it had to come when you’re with a human. “Thank you, that’s very nice.” You said, Chan’s eyes widening. 

“Oh my god, don’t cry!” He said, panicking a bit. “I swear I didn’t mean to make you cry, I-” 

“No, no it’s fine. It’s fine.” You waved a hand, wiping your face with the other. “It’s just been a long day.” You said, Chan looking around. 

“I uh… I don’t have any tissues.” He said, you letting out a laugh. 

“We have some here, it’s fine.” You said, holding up the box. Chan gave you a small smile. 

“I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to-” 

“Y/N?” Your coworker said, walking over to you. “Are you alright, what happened?” They asked, you shaking your head. They looked between you and Chan, very concerned. 

“It’s nothing, I just need to go home. Thanks again Chan.” You said, quickly running in back, leaving Chan there with your coworker. 

You sighed as you walked into your class the next day, pausing as you got to your usual seat. You blinked at the dessert cake sitting on an envelope on your desk. You raised an eyebrow at your friend, who just shrugged. 

“It was there when I came in.” They said, going back to their notebook. You sat down, picking up the cake and removing the envelope from underneath it. It was definitely meant for you, considering it had your name on it. You smiled a bit at the smiley face sticker holding the envelope shut, carefully opening it and pulling out the note. 

Please don’t cry this time! 

You left this at the store the other day and I did give it to you, so it only makes sense to make sure it got back to you. Hopefully your day got better and you’ve had good days since. If you ever need someone to make you smile, let me know. :) 

Chan (3rd row, 5 seats down, guy who made you cry, you know) 

You smiled at the paper, looking behind you. It took you a second, but you eventually found Chan talking with the guy next to him, laughing at some joke. After a couple seconds, he looked in your direction and saw you looking, so you held up the cake and mouthed a quick thanks. 

Chan just smiled, giving you a quick thumbs up. You saw him silently ask if you were doing better, you nodding your head. You both just grinned at each other for a second before you faced forward again, putting the note back in the envelope and placing both items in your backpack, pulling out your stuff for class. 

“Who’s it from?” Your friend asked, you looking at them. 

“Oh, no one.” You said, thankful that your professor started class because you knew your friend was giving you a weird look. You risked one last glance at Chan, only to see him already looking in your direction. You both quickly looked forward, smiling to yourselves.