#oh it's fine i should probably be saving my energy for [big plans with her long distance bf she has coming up next month] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hansolmates · 5 years ago

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the proposal (m)

banner done by the ammmahhzzing @eerieedits

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. pairing; editor!Jungkook x assistant!reader (f) genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always w.c; 20.1k of endless banter and koo hiding his romantic side a/n; yeah, it’s almost summer. But i think we need a lil holiday magic in our lives! I rewatched the proposal this weekend and whipped this up. Why is koo so gosh darn easy to write? This is my longest fic since i wrote maze runner back in 2014!! i rec this extension to get fully immersed in 2pov! Enjoy and pls tell me if there’s any errors im too poopied to proofread it again drabbles; 01

“When I hired you, you basically signed a contract that said you’d do anything for me.”

“Yeah, Jeon. I did. That meant like, getting you coffee or working late hours—normal work stipulations,” you can feel the hair on your scalp growing thinner, “not commit fucking fraud!”

Your boss looks moreso frustrated than you are, but you cease to care. Jeon Jungkook has been nothing but a thorn in your side since your employment at Big Hit Publishing two years ago. Being a budding author who wanted to graduate from online sites and freelancing, you accepted the job as the editor-in-chief’s assistant in the hopes of getting your first book published.

However, your dreams of being an editor are quickly dissipating, especially when Jungkook corners you this afternoon and announces that he may have left America during the time his work visa was still processing. He may have to give over his editor-in-chief position because there’s no way he can get a work visa processed in time. As a result of this information, he may have told his supervisors that you seduced him on a late night one year ago, and you two fell in love and have been secretly engaged ever since.

Because y’know, your citizenship to this country is an asset to the company.

“We didn’t have to go to Norway to PR Emma Watson’s autobio,” you huff, fingers going pale from how hard you were gripping your iPad. Jungkook is an esteemed workaholic, and you have no idea where it stems from. You remember that trip to Oslo, Jungkook insisting that you and him both go to make sure everything goes smoothly.

“You weren’t complaining when we went to that restaurant with the open bar.” he runs a hand through his coiffed hair, making the pomade untack from its style. “You got so drunk that Emma held you while you cried about global warming.”

Wholly unamused, you frown. “Jungkook, can you please take this seriously?”

“I’m taking this seriously, you’re not the one who’s about to be deported in two weeks!” Jungkook hisses, face dangerously close to yours. Not that anyone would know what he’s saying, but you can tell from his defenses that he genuinely is nervous.

“You wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew your Visa!”

“I wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew my Visa!”

At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching your confrontation, probably making their own conclusions as to what you two were fighting about again. Curse this office for having full-walled windows, you often feel like an ant in a plastic farm. Your work relationship is an anomaly to the rest of the staff. Before you started working at Big Hit, Jungkook’s assistants did not last long. Within the first week of working, you understood why.

Jungkook whirls around his desk, glaring at the glass doors as he puts himself between the staff and you. “If you don’t marry me,” he says lowly, close enough for his hot breath to fan your face, coupled with his fresh-scented cologne. It annoys you how good he smells. “You’ll also be replaced because they want to give the my position to fuckin’ Karen of all people,” you fight the twitch of your lips. The only thing you two mutually agreed upon is the hatred of his co-editor, Karen. “All of the late nights we’ve worked together, the gallons of coffees you consumed, putting up with my shit, your dreams of becoming an author,” his eyes flicker to the way the grip in your iPad trembles, “will go down the drain and turn to shit. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.”

Pretending to be unfazed, you bat your lashes, “So are you saying, you need me?”

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Ah-ah, Jungkook. I’m not going to ask you to get on one knee, but you should at least tell me how much you need me.”

You assume with great confidence that the only reason you’re kept on Jungkook’s payroll is because you’re not afraid to stand up to Jungkook’s bullshit. He looks positively disgusted at the mere thought of paying you an iota of a compliment. You’d say on average, you get half a compliment a month from Jungkook. You say half because he’ll compliment you, then downplay it with whatever flaw he can fabricate to get under your skin.

He loosens his lavender paisley tie, annoyed. “Fine. I need you. I need you because you’re the only one who knows me well enough to be my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve had full conversations with in two years and knows all my dietary restrictions, favorite books, foods, and hobbies. By process of elimination, you are my best candidate.”

“Romantic,” you roll your eyes, “I guess I do,” you push him away with a finger to his chest, “but I want a raise. And after we finish Sorn and Mark’s project, I want you to read my novel.”

“Done and done.”

“Well Jeon, I guess you’ve wifed me up with your ways of seduction.” you muse sardonically, feeling more upset for yourself than anything.

“Fantastic,” he sighs, finally throwing his tie across the desk and plopping in his armchair. “Cancel the call with Janet, call PR about Irene Kim’s interview on Ellen, and order me a medium rare steak from J.J. Bittings with a side of brussels.”

“Right,” you mutter under your breath as you pull up your checklist, as if you didn’t just give away your life to the Devil incarnate.

Jungkook’s back is already facing you, focusing on his computer displaying two new manuscripts. “Oh, and on your way to J’s don’t forget to pick up your ring at Saks.”

“Bitch, you’re asking me to pick up my fake wedding ring?”

Unbothered, he shrugs. You see the planes of his shoulders stretch beneath the blazer, because he’s deemed this conversation long over and he has work to do. “Yeah, but it’s real diamonds.”

You’ve been seeing red for days.

While the rock on your ring finger is indeed beautiful because Jungkook has impeccable taste, it drags you down and arouses the elephant in the room everytime you show up for work.

You get enough stares on the daily, and you were just getting used to the looks of pity and sympathy for working under Jungkook, but now there are only snickers and playful winks as you trudge down the cubicles every morning. Everyday feels like the runway at a shitshow, and you are the headliner.

Taehyung clapped you none-too-hard on the back when you showed up to work the next morning, congratulating you on the engagement. “Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ the big boss!”

The rest of the staff poke their eyes out of their cubicles like Digletts, and you shush them, using your hand to make them sink down.

Coffee is spilling down your shirt thanks to him, and you reach for tissues in his cubicle. “Can you not say it like that, please?”

“Oh, come on. I heard from the supervisors Jungkook went on about how you seduced him late at night and took charge,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows approvingly, and you fight the urge to not throw up your coffee in his face. “How do you keep it so professional? Or do you save all that pent-up energy for after hours?”

“You disgust me,” you grimace, stepping out of his cubicle and immediately regret wasting your five-minute break conversing with the typist.

Striding back into Jungkook’s office, he doesn’t hesitate to rattle off the next items on today’s agenda. He barely looks at you when you stride in, too focused on whatever corrections he’s slashing in red ink.

“Did you get Taemin’s second draft?”

“No, and I told him that if he can’t get me the draft by tonight he won’t get a publishing deadline and the number of copies published will be decreased by a third.”

“And Taehyung’s author agreed to our stipulations?”

“Of course, she’d be dead not to.” you mutter, “she’s a nineteen year old Influencer, what would she know?”

“Exactly, that’s why we milk it out as long as we can.” Jungkook throws the first draft in a large, intimidating pile, mixing in with all the others like a needle in a haystack. “Which is why it’s important we snag dinner with her this weekend, we can really—”

“What, this weekend?” your sense of equilibrium cracks, and you walk forward to put his hands on his desk. “I took this coming week off for Christmas. I’ve planned this for months.”

“I know.”

“I can’t just cancel my flight! I saved up for that!”

“And?” Jungkook brushes off your fury like a piece of lint, “I’m Korean. Christmas is a fake holiday for me.”

“You can’t just tell me I can’t go home to my family, it’s the fucking holidays!”

“Why not, I’ve done it before. Remember on Valentine’s day when I told you the only date you have is a date with Kwon Boa’s publicist? Or on Secretaries Day when I argued that you don’t feel appreciated by society anyway and therefore why bother taking one extra day off? Or during Easter when your family screamed in my office on speakerphone that you should quit—”

“Okay,” no need to be reminded of how much you’ve wasted your life for this man, “but this is different. I’ve already bought plane tickets and this holiday is special. It’s a whole family reunion in the Poconos and we’ve reserved over five houses to fit all of us! I can’t just ditch!”

“But I need you!” he replied just as hotly, in a tone that reminded you so many times of how tethered you are by this man. Two years have gone by, and the only thing that kept those strings together is the constant ache in getting your first novel published. “With all the marriage stuff and stupid extentions we had to make on these writers there’s no way we can get everything done before winter ends!”

“You’ve done it before, why can’t you just ask Taehyung to assist—”

“Trouble in paradise?”

A chill travels up your spine, and you and Jungkook exchange panicked eye contact. A tiny, pretty blonde lady struts in the room like it's hers, plopping a fruit basket atop Jungkook’s manuscripts.

“If by paradise you mean our relationship, then no.” Jungkook’s the first to recover, meeting you at your side and stretching an arm around your waist. “I’d say work-wise things are getting a little rough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’re a team, after all.”

“I just wanted to stop by as I was in the neighborhood,” the woman says, making herself comfortable in a leather seat reserved for guests. “Congratulations again on your engagement.”

You tack on a smile, squeezing Jungkook’s arm a little too hard, but it’s enough to make the lady in front of you smile back. “What brings you here, Taeyeon?”

Kim Taeyeon is Jungkook’s immigration liaison, AKA the person responsible for making sure you’re not breaking the law. She’s a pretty thing, with eyes sharp but a smile that’s soft and deceiving.

“It’s just a shame you two have to rush a civil wedding,” Taeyeon sighs, looking at the window overlooking the city.

“Ah, it takes some of the planning stress off my back, really.” you force a laugh, tugging Jungkook to sit on the couch opposite her. “At least one thing is done. The thought of planning a whole wedding with over two-hundred people is so stressful.”

You weren’t really going to have a white wedding with Jungkook (however you may have entertained the thought, which is reflected in your Google search history) but you had to keep up the ruse that you were. A civil wedding in two weeks, then a quickie divorce a year later.

“I know! My wedding was a real mess let me tell you, straight out of a movie!” Taeyeon is certainly the type of person to make you feel at ease, so at ease that it’s simple for you to melt your front. “But besides the point, are you two doing anything special for the holidays?”

“Ah, well I bought a flight to meet my family in the Poconos,” you start, trying not to succumb to your nervous habit of wringing your fingers. You grab Jungkook’s hand as a reprieve.

“And you’re not going?” Taeyeon’s gaze snaps, yes snaps, to Jungkook.

You try to step in, realizing your flaw. “We’ve just been so swamped with work, all the immigration stuff and with these book delays Jungkook suggested he stay behind—”

“But we’ve decided to prioritize our personal life and enjoy Christmas with our family,” Jungkook swoops in, threading his fingers between yours. He flashes Taeyeon a smile, and from the way his face lights up and his nose crinkles, you could’ve mistaken it to be genuine. “I’ve never experienced a big family Christmas, y’know. I’ve missed snowboarding too, I used to do it a lot in highschool.”

“Oh, that’s just so sweet!” Taeyeon cooes, clasping her hands together. “Do send some pictures when you come back!”

“Of course,” Jungkook stands up and attempts to leave Taeyeon out. You follow in tow, She obliges easily, mentioning something about just wanting to check in and she also has work to do.

“Also,” Taeyeon’s head flickers to the people sitting outside Jungkook’s office. “You should manage those workers out there,” she looks at you, sympathetic. “Apparently, they didn’t peg you as the type of person to sleep their way to the top. And that’s just what I heard from walking down the hall once!” she laughs, tinkling brighter than a windchime, but you just tighten the grip on Jungkook’s palm. “Such a childish assumption. Things can be much more complicated.”

She tips a “happy holidays” off her shoulder, and you both are smiling like the loving couple you are. As soon as the elevator doors close and Taeyeon is really gone, Jungkook moves to let go of your hand, but you hold him in your grasp.

“She’s onto us,” you snap, tugging him closer to you so your co-workers wouldn’t read your lips.

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back. He looks offendingly at the fruit basket adorning his desk.

“What if we get caught, Jungkook?” you start to spiral, feeling your deepest fears crawl to the forefront of your brain. You’ve done extensive Google research on commiting fraud, and if you do get caught, Jungkook will never be able to come back to this country and you’ll have a fine of up to $250,000. Your boss doesn’t pay you nearly enough to get by with that kind of debt. “We’ll ruin this company, and our lives, and any hope of being published or credible.”

“Hey, relax,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, the tone oddly comforting. He pulls you into his arms, and you barely have a chance to recover when he squeezes you extra tight around your waist. Jungkook only ever hugs you when doing PR, and even then it’s an awkward half-hug. Hell, he never hugged you on your birthday. “This is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna book my flight to the Poconos, bring some manuscripts so we can work remotely, and no one will ever know.”

You sigh into his arms, nodding tiredly. It feels nice to be hugged like this. His arms are strong and warm, and you feel small and protected. It’s been a while since you’ve felt like that. Maybe Jungkook did have a heart under all that muscle.

“I’m putting up a good show, aren’t I?” he says, and you feel your heart drop just a little. Disappointed, but not surprised.

From your view facing the cubicles, you see at least half the employees comically bugged with heart eyes at you, enamored by your fake relationship.

“Do not stretch your long-ass legs on this plane, Jeon,” you nudge your smaller leg away from your section of leg room, “Jesus, we’re flying economy!”

It scares you how little you fought against Jungkook joining you for the winter holiday. It is the logical decision after all, Taeyeon is on your trail about your sudden engagement and you both needed to keep up the ruse. That includes going on family vacations. Also, the fact that Jungkook works through Christmas because he doesn’t celebrate it does make you feel a little bad. You can’t remember the last time the man took a vacation.

The man in question barely moves at your weak attempt, and stretches his leg even further across your seat. “Sorry, babe,” he says, fishing around his seat for the included blanket.

“It’s fine, Kookie.” You reply sweetly, and decide to kick off your shoes to drape a leg over Jungkook’s thighs, “you’re like a portable footrest!”

He looks absolutely insulted at your objectification, but smartly decides to choose his battles and lets you keep your position. Tucking himself in with a scratchy blanket he waves you off, “Whatever, just wake me up when we arrive.”

“What, no.” you pull up your iPad, shoving the note entry in his face. “I know everything about you, and yet you know nothing about me. I made this easy on you and just wrote everything down. You just have to read it.”

“Seriously? I’ve known you for over two years, I’m sure I know enough about you.”

“Really, then how do I like my coffee?”

“Uh… hot?”

You give him a look and he knows. With a sigh he grabs the iPad from your hands. Within seconds he’s giving you another dirty look, as if he’s skimming a conspiracy novel.

“You know all this random shit about me?” Jungkook asks, scrolling down as to what feels like your life story.

“Yes, because unlike you, I listen when you talk.”

“Fine. What’s my favorite type of weather?”

“A warm and sunny day, which correlates to your favorite kind of date which is walking along the beach at sunset. Cliché much?”

“Okay, rude. Who’s my favorite artist?”

“You like a little bit of everything, but since seventh grade you’ve been pining for IU. In the office, you like to sing along to Lauv and Hozier.”

“Favorite movie?”

“The Marvel Series. But you really like 5 Centimeters Per Second, you like the romance.”

“And how do you know my favorite anime movie is 5 Centimeters Per Second? I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you that.”

“Jeon, when we were promoting Momo Hirai’s self-help book at Anime Expo you were gone for two and a half hours at 1:50 sharp.” your boss’ Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows thickly at your admonition. “And low and behold, you gave yourself thirty minutes’ time to line up early because when I checked the schedule Makoto Shinkai had a panel on ‘The Otaku’s Perspective on Romantic—”

“Alright alright, I get it.” Jungkook slumps in his seat, as comfy as it can get with your legs draped around him and a seat at the far end of the plane. You know he’s trying to hide a blush, and you feel proud for making him a little flustered. “You’re lucky I’m a fast reader.”

The plane ride goes relatively fast, with Jungkook asking quick questions about your family and other random things. It’s like playing a game of 20 Questions, instead it’s the final boss battle with 200 questions and if he doesn’t get them all right, the penalty is deportation.

When you land, you’re both stiff and glazed over. Once you exit the terminal, Jungkook ditches you for the bathroom and says he’ll meet you at the luggage pickup. You give yourself a few moments, gearing yourself up for the long week ahead of you. At the luggage pickup, you see a tall man watch the revolving conveyor belt with interest. Either that, or he’s zoning out.

“Joonie!” you cry, nearly dropping your phone upon seeing your big brother. He’s dressed comfortably in a grey sweat ensemble, as if he rolled out of bed and came straight to the airport.

A bright grin takes over his face, and he doesn’t hesitate to smush your body against his. Under his tall frame you sway, your toes barely swiping the ground. “You’re alive!” he cheers, pulling back and holding your shoulders to get a real look at you. “I can see you’ve gained a little weight, eyes are a little dark, but I’m glad the Devil let you go. I still can’t forgive him for making you skip out on Jin’s wedding.”

You don’t appreciate the way that Namjoon picks and prods at your exhaustion, but you know he means well. While he does not know your boss by face and name, he had enough artilerary from the billions of phone calls to learn about the Devil and the havoc he’s wreaked upon your life.

When you don’t respond he gets the cue that you do not want to talk about work this week, and he smacks his lips together. “But nothing a little R&R can’t fix! The ski resort nearby has a really nice outdoor jacuzzi and we could set an appointment for facials if you’d like. Or we could do absolutely nothing and turn into baked potatoes and watch movies until our eyes burn up.”

“Both would be great,” you smile softly, catching two familiar suitcases make their rounds on your flight’s conveyor belt. You grab your pink luggage with one hand, and Jungkook’s black chrome one with your other.

“So, where’s the new beau?” Namjoon rocks back and forth on his heels, hoping to get a glimpse of the mystery boy you mentioned you’d be bringing as of two days ago.

“He really had to go to the bathroom,” you squint your eyes to make out the newcomers exiting the dropoff area. “Oh, there he is. Kook!”

Like a goddamn model, he struts in your field of vision like nobody’s business. Unlike you who stayed in your apartment all day before leaving, Jungkook decided to spend a few hours at Big Hit in the morning to tie up most of the loose ends before your trip. He’s talking to what you assume to be is a client, noting the way his brow furrows as he clutches his phone with a tight hold. He’s changed out of his tie and leather oxfords, but he’s dressed crisply in a dark button up and blazer ensemble, still wholly overdressed for a family reunion.

Namjoon starts behind you, “He looks...”

“Handsome?” you goad, elbowing him, “Charismatic? Undeniable presence?”

“Hard.”

You don’t know what to make of that adjective, and you subtly shrink further in your jacket as you mull over the implications of his word choice.

Jungkook steps up to the two of you, ending his call. His eyes float between you and your brother, and he manages to put two and two together. “Hey man,” Jungkook gives a practiced smile, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, I’ve heard lots of things about you.”

“Good things, I hope.” Namjoon chuckles, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, though. Can’t wait to get to know you this week.”

“Looking forward to it,” Jungkook takes his luggage and Namjoon grabs yours, leading you two out to his minivan. While Namjoon is preoccupied with getting the car started, Jungkook looks at you as if he’s already regretting making the trip down. “This girl has two braincells to her name. I just got off the phone with Sorn’s publicist.”

“What trouble can an influencer do?” you reply in disbelief.

“Exactly, influencing is the trouble,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she did some mukbang and now she’s in the hospital for food poisoning.”

“Ah, don’t get too worked up,” you help him lug your suitcases in the trunk. You spot Namjoon subtly eyeing you two from the rear mirror. Pressing a thumb between his brows, you make work to melt away the 11-shaped stress lines on his forehead. “Let’s just send her a Lush gift basket and she’ll be fine.”

You ignore the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you longer than needed, running over to your seat at shotgun.

The inside of his car smells like bergamot and lemon, and the sweet, vulnerable side of you wants to cry over how much you’ve missed your brother’s scent. It’s been way too long.

Once you’re all safely in the car and driving Namjoon says, “So, are you going to hide the engagement ring or give the family a collective heart attack?”

You tense, hands automatically floating to the teardrop diamond weighing heavily on your ring finger. The story that you two contrived about your relationship isn’t too complicated, but complex enough that it seems convincing. Instead of being your boss, Jungkook is your Literary Agent who gives you referrals to new and upcoming authors. You working closely together and bonding over the stresses of the publishing world, have kept a secret relationship under wraps for over a year to avoid any unprofessionalism or favoritism.

“I was thinking about that the whole ride, actually,” you twirl the metal back and forth, watching it gleam in the light. “Mom and dad know, but I don’t wanna lie to the rest of my family. They’ll freak out because it’s the first time they’re meeting Kook and we’re already engaged. It’s just a location thing, y’know. You guys don’t live in the city so we’ve never had a chance to really talk it out.”

Namjoon snorts, “Or, because your boss never gives you a break.”

If Jungkook finds any offense, he doesn’t show it. Putting what should be a comforting hand on your shoulder, he says from the back seat, “I already told you babe, do what makes you comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to your parents early on, you don’t wanna make the situation any more complicated.”

In other words, you better tell them about our engagement because Taeyeon could be hiding in the bushes waiting to catch us.

“Smart man,” Namjoon says shortly, but you can’t tell whether it’s a compliment or not.

“Yeah,” you exhale, turning to smile stiffly at Jungkook, “no use hiding the inevitable, right?”

The next couple hours are overwhelming. There’s a party right when you walk in your winter villa, your parents throwing you a reunion party (not for your family, but for you specifically because you’ve been MIA since Big Hit) with the house filled to the brim with family members. Within seconds your favorite cousin checks out the rock on your finger and screams that you’re engaged.

Everyone must be so high off the fact that you’ve made it to a family event that they’re elated you have a life outside of work. Jungkook is treated like a prince, charming the hell out of all your aunties and baby cousins.

“Oh, pumpkin!” your auntie squeals, linking arms with you while you’re trying to eat your dinner, “I just hugged your fiancé, and he has abs! Lucky you!”

“Auntie,” you hiss playfully, “you hugged him that tight?”

“He’s part of the family, isn’t he?”

“Right,” you force a smile, downing your glass of champagne. The bubbles burn your throat pleasantly.

“Babe, can you come here for a second?” Jungkook manages to swim his way through the throng in the living room, holding out a hand for you, “your mom said that our room is ready, care to lead the way?”

His smile, as pretty as you can care to admit, renders your aunt speechless, and she lets him whisk you away to a long hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. Jungkook lets go of your hand as soon as you're alone, letting his palm run along the pictures that decorate your hallway.

He stops at a picture of you and Namjoon as kids, faces tanned and lips cherry red from your twin popsicles melting on your hands. “Wow,” Jungkook pretends to be alarmed, “I didn’t know you used to be cute, what happened?”

“Shut up,” you smack his hand away, walking ahead of him.

“I thought you guys reserved a bunch of houses, why does the furniture look worn and there’s pictures of you everywhere?”

“Our extended family has reserved houses, but this is actually my family’s vacation home. I used to go here every winter and summer break,” you reach a bedroom in the corner of the hall, smiling at your wooden name tag hanging on the front, “this is my old room.”

It certainly doesn’t have that youthful charm it once had, but there are still bits of your childhood scattering the room. There’s ticket stubs and photobooth strips tacked to a corkboard near your desk. Books that you would reread cover to cover are organized proudly on your shelf, worn for wear.

Jungkook groans in relief, plopping his body down on your freshly made bed. “Your family’s really clingy.” he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes.

You turn to give him a snappy answer, but it dies in your throat when you see what he’s laying on. The familiar family quilt sinks under Jungkook’s weight, mocking you. You shriek, throwing your arms over to lug his body to the other side of the bed. Bundling up the quilt in your arms, you glare at a very appalled Jungkook.

“The hell is wrong with you, woman!” he cries, not loud enough to escape the room, but enough to have your body vibrate in annoyance.

“Jeon, they put the fucking baby blanket in my room,” you mutter more to yourself than him, folding it under your arms.

The blanket is comfy in your grasp and you’re sure it’s clean, but the fact that you weren’t actually married and in love made its appearance a whole lot worse.

“So?” his eyes are wide in confusion, “my mom still has my baby blanket too, I’m not gonna shoot anyone because of it.”

“It’s not my baby blanket,” you admonish, “it’s the baby maker blanket. A weird family tradition when someone gets engaged.”

“Which means?”

“They’re expecting us to fuck and have children.”

The thought of procreating and starting a family with you must’ve caused all the champagne to return to his throat, and he looks a little pale. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” he lies back down on your mattress, and you leave him be so you can chuck the blanket back in your parents’ room.

You’re barely out the door when a young man is waiting out in the hallway for you, poised to knock. “Hey, baby girl.” they throw you an easy lopsided grin, opening their arms to you.

In your haste, you slam your bedroom door a little too loudly. “Yoongi!” You let yourself sink into his waiting arms, reveling in the familiar embrace you missed so much. Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend and work buddy, not to mention the man you’ve had a crush on since you were able to walk. While you can safely say at this moment there is nothing serious going on, a small part of you always wishes there could be.

His voice husks in your ear, “Why are we hugging in between the baby blanket?”

“Oh!” you brush past him, opening the door to your parents’ room and flinging the offending item as far into their room as possible. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were a little freaked out when we saw it. We’re definitely not thinking about children right now.”

“Jungkook,” he hums, and your smile falters just a tad when you see the way Yoongi tips his head down in thought, “It was quite the news. Congrats though.”

You want to say what you’re supposed to say, that yes, you should be happy. But the selfish part of you does not want this exchange between you and Yoongi to be happening. When you get your quickie divorce in a year, the small, hopeful part of you hopes you and Yoongi could be something.

Before you have a chance to fabricate a response, strong hands encircle your waist, and you feel Jungkook’s chin digging into your shoulder.

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook’s voice rumbles, “we really appreciate it.”

Yoongi gives a nod, muttering something about catching up later before he walks back to the party.

It’s then that Jungkook’s weight feels impossibly heavy on your shoulders. “You know, you’ve been doing a really shitty job of being my wife-to-be ever since we landed,” Jungkook whispers, feather soft lips dusting across the shell of your ear. It’s an act so intimate you can imagine your family passing down the hallway could be mistaking you two for speaking unthinkable acts. A toddler cousin spots you two and giggles, babbling something to your uncle about how you’re hugging. “You did so well when we were with Taeyeon and Big Hit.”

“It’s not the same when I’m lying to my family,” you turn to face him, equally simmering. “These are people that actually love and care for me, unlike you.”

“At least I care about what’s most important,” he grits back, “our jobs, our futures. Is that not enough for you to keep it in your pants?”

“Excuse me? You don’t even know him!”

“I don’t have to know him because I’m holding you right now and you’re practically sweating through your cardigan.” he grimaces, digging his chin further into your collarbone, literally trying to get under your skin. “Your face looks like a cherry tomato.”

You turn your head to bite back, your noses touching. The staring contest seems to last for days. Unlike Jungkook who doesn't know how to register basic human emotion, you still have hopes for a life after this. Before you have a chance to answer, your favorite cousin enters the hallway, oblivious to your concerns. Jimin’s red all over, passing you two flutes of blush champagne. “Hurry up, we’re making speeches!”

Champagne is overflowing like Niagara, and you and Jungkook are the reason for it as you’re thrusted into the living room. Your weird uncle is in the middle of a long-winded speech about his fishing business and how dreams are made from ‘bait and a dream’. You make eye contact with him, and he gestures wildly to you and Jungkook.

The crowd proceeds to go wild, echoes of speech! Speech! Reverberating throughout your living room. You and Jungkook share uneasy smiles, unsure of where to go with this show.

Deciding it’s your family by blood, you start first. “Honestly, when I moved to New York I wasn’t expecting to feel so lonely,” you clutch your flute with both hands, swirling your drink absentmindedly. You then turn to Jungkook, giving him a tender smile which he returns back just as fondly. “Until I met Jungkook. I’m really happy that I get to share this week with the people I love the most, so let's drink to family!”

Jungkook lifts his glass, “Thank you for the warm welcome, I can’t wait to spend time with all of you. This is my first Christmas with a large, loving family. Cheers to that!”

The room erupts in cheers, allowing themselves to clink glasses and chase down their respective drinks. Even the little ones crowding the kiddie table in the back are enjoying their apple juice while making silly faces at the new couple.

Jungkook weaves his arm between yours, and you get the signal to do a couples’ drink. He eyes you with mischief, as if to say we did it. After you two take your drink, Jimin’s the first to drunkenly yell, “Ohmygod just kiss already!”

“Kiss kiss kiss!”

“This is going on my story so make it good!”

“Kiss him before I do!”

“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing your forehead on Jungkook’s chest. Your family really is something else.

As if the chants can’t get any louder, it’s hard to focus on anything but Jungkook’s presence. Jungkook lifts your chin up, murmuring, “Let’s give the people what they want.” and he presses his lips to yours.

It’s awkward at first. Why wouldn’t it be, you’re making out with your boss, in front of your family, pretending to be engaged. But Jungkook doesn’t let up, parting your lips slightly to deepen the kiss. As much as you want to make up how terrible and disgusting kissing Jungkook is, it really isn’t. His lips are soft and he tastes like the peach champagne, and his grip on your waist is strong and warm.

He leaves you breathless when you pull away, a smirk on his lips for a brief moment before he turns shyly to your family who are probably foaming at the mouth now.

Maybe it’s the champagne coursing through your veins, but why does it suddenly feel so hot in the middle of winter?

The first day back starts off wholly uneventful, with Jungkook working on some manuscripts and you preparing dinner with Jimin. Most of your family is on the resort hitting the slopes, so you’re quite thankful for the reprieve since the party was so overwhelming. The blonde is all smiles as he bumps the oven closed with his leg, letting your lasagna bake to perfection.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin rests his head on your shoulder, “it’s definitely not the same when we’re adults. Frankly, it sucks balls.”

“Big balls,” you agree, gnawing on a leftover baguette from last night.

“Speaking of big balls,” Jimin wiggles his brows as you attempt to move farther from him.

“Please don’t say it.”

“C’mon! Just tell me if the sex is good!”

“No!” you cry, flicking your crumbs at him.

“I will open this oven,” his hands are already on the handle, “and your dish will undercook.”

“Don’t you dare!” he opens the oven a tad, and you slam your hand down. “Fine! The sex is fantastic, happy?”

“Ewh, no!” The storm door swings open, revealing Namjoon, Yoongi, and Lisa, Namjoon’s lady friend. “I didn’t need to hear that, thanks.”

Your face looks absolutely pained as you watch the two older men walk in. They were the last people you’d ever want to share about your sex life too, even if it is fake. You can only bear to look properly at Lisa as they kick off their boots and shake the snow off their heads. Lisa pokes her tongue in her cheek, looking at you with a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve heard so much about your current drama. Can’t wait to hear the 411 from you, though.”

Yoongi looks unfazed, then again you never really know what’s going on in his head. “You guys wanna go to a movie tonight?” Yoongi asks, grabbing a slice of the baguette and dipping it in a dish of olive oil. “I think the one that’s showing is based on a book your company published.”

“Is it ‘Rotten Love’?”

“That’s the one.”

Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod eagerly. “I’ll go tell Jungkook to get ready. We can eat dinner real quick and then go right after,” you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, “Joonie, set up the table please.”

Jungkook doesn’t notice you walk in, and you can hear the faint sound of Muse blasting from his Airpods. He’s on your floor, doing pushups while reading a transcript under him. This time he’s using your iPad, every few seconds taking a thumb to scroll down. Sweating through his shirt, you can see the beads running along his silver reading glasses. It’s completely contradictory, your muscle bunny of a boss getting in his reps while psychoanalyzing a potential novel, but somehow it works with him.

“Maniac,” you mutter, bending down to place the cool water bottle on his cheek. He stops abruptly, like you’ve pressed the pause button on his seemingly robotic arms. Seriously, you can’t fathom how he manages to do both. You swipe the iPad under his body in place of a white towel, which he accepts gratefully. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to snap him out of it, sometimes you’d catch him at the company gym nearing 10PM, reading on the treadmill.

“What time is it?” he asks, fluting the water bottle down his throat.

Ignoring the way his neck glistens in sweat, you say, “It’s almost seven. C’mon, we’re gonna eat dinner and watch a movie. You’ve cooped yourself up in this room all day, time to interact with the world.”

“What movie?”

“The book we published in 2018, ‘Rotten Love’? They made it into a movie,” and you can’t help the wry grin that takes over your face when you say your next words, “guess who directed it.”

He sighs, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. The normally styled strands fall limply at his forehead. “I don’t remember, I shifted over that project to PR. Any director’s fine, but please please please don’t let it be—”

“Jung Hoseok!”

“Son of a bitch, we gotta go.” And it’s the first time in a while you see a genuine smile graze his features, one not laced with you and your marriage. It’s an old pastime for you both to get picky over Jung’s work. “I swear, he better not put his scenes all over the place like last time, I got whiplash.”

After a quick dinner you all pile into Namjoon’s minivan, making your way to the theatre. The drive is fast, and before you know it you’re waiting in line to get inside. It seems that the PR between the film studio and Big Hit did a good job assisting, because there’s a sizable line despite being half an hour early.

“So honey,” Lisa leans into you, squishing you further into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Did you like, help out with the publishing of this novel? To be honest I don’t even know what your job is,” Lisa admits with a shrug, “you’re not a glorified coffee girl, are you?”

“No,” her mixed enthusiasm never fails to stump you, “Ah, but I really didn’t do much in the production of ‘Rotten Love’,” you reply easily, relaxing into Jungkook as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. “I just told my boss to sign some documents n’stuff. It’s really nothing—”

“Babe, are you kidding? You ran the whole freakin’ project!” and you’re in shock, because for the first time in the history of ever, Jeon Jungkook is paying you a real compliment. “It was her first assignment when she got hired as the big boss’ assistant. A lot of people in the office doubted her,” he squeezes your shoulder, “but not for one second did I doubt her, you could see how hard she worked to make it perfect. I heard the boss was really impressed, too.”

You remember that period of time. Jungkook made you dive headfirst into the publishing for ‘Rotten Love’, letting you sink or swim in his decision for keeping you employed. After a full month of meetings, negotiations, and debating whether you should have caffeine IV’ed in your body to save time on eating, you got Jungkook’s evaluation. You remember the stoicism in Jungkook’s frame as he surmised your work, throwing you a flippant “it’s decent” before sending you off to do more work.

Relief flooded your system after those two simple words, because that meant you had a chance and you could keep your job. But this? If what he’s saying is true, you’re on Cloud 9.

“Awh, thanks Kook.” you squeeze his arm, letting your fingers trail down to lace your fingers with his.

Lisa’s face is all scrunched, and she doesn’t hesitate to stretch over you to smush Jungkook’s cheek between her two fingers. Her blue nails dig into his soft skin. “I like him, honey. Keep him, he’s so cute.”

She leaves you alone after that, skipping over to bother Namjoon about buying an extra bucket of popcorn.

“At first I was nervous having you near my family for a week,” you say brightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand, “but I kinda like seeing you try so hard to not rip other people’s heads off.”

He puffs out his cheeks in an attempt to soothe the stinging. “Could be worse, I could be engaged to Karen.”

With that you laugh, loud enough to turn heads and have Jimin and Lisa send you adoring looks. Jungkook sends you a nervous smile, the one that he’d always send you during team meetings when he was unsure of how to respond to something. Instead of giving him a smart answer, you get on your tiptoes to pat his reddened cheek. “But she’s right, you are kinda cute when you wanna be.”

Instead of replying, he squeezes your hand tighter to lead you inside.

Everything is smooth sailing after that. You, Jimin and Yoongi are saving the seats while Jungkook, Lisa and Namjoon are getting the refreshments. Jimin is prattling on about a new job interview and you’re listening attentively, while Yoongi shoots off advice every time Jimin says he’s nervous.

Yoongi looks past Jimin to give you that gummy smile that always made your chest ache. “Chim, remember when she applied to work at Jamba Juice?”

“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, clutching your arm. “When you had to do a trial run in front of the manager? You forgot to put the lid on the blender and you sprayed the staff with green juice?”

“The stains took forever to get out,” you pouted. “And I didn’t appreciate the snaps you saved of me. I got nervous because you were recording me!”

“Am I hearing some juicy details about your childhood?” Jungkook appears, passing a huge tub of buttery popcorn to Yoongi.

“Emphasis on juice,” Yoongi says tartly, popping a handful of kernels in his mouth.

“Yes, do you wanna see a picture of your fiancé covered in green juice? She wore a low-cut shirt that day so it got deep, man.” Jimin says, using his hands to gesture obscenely to his own chest.

You’re mortified, and you push down Jimin’s phone and cover whatever receipts he has on you. “Jimin, I’d like to stay engaged, if you don’t mind?”

Your not-so-favorite cousin cackles in response, telling Jungkook that they’ll talk later.

“Here,” Jungkook cooly hands you a King-Sized KitKat.

“Awh,” you marvel, immediately opening the wrapper, “you actually read my notes and found out what my favorite candy was?”

He scoffs, dark bangs blowing up. “Who doesn’t like KitKats?” but you’re giving him the look, and he sighs, “C’mon babe, just gimmie a break.”

“Ha-ha,” but you break off a piece anyway, lifting it to Jungkook’s lips. It’s then that the theatre starts to dim, and the telltale signs of the movie begin. “Ready to rip Jung Hoseok to shreds?”

“Always.”

Barely fifteen minutes pass and Jungkook is spreading his legs. You’re about to kick him before he leans in to whisper, “They made Renee too dull,” he sighs in disappointment, as if he sincerely had high hopes they’d bring the novel to justice. “I mean, I get it, in the novel she’s supposed to be a plain Jane. But she isn’t grey.”

“Right?” you lean into Jungkook, throwing your legs over his thighs like you’re back at the airport. This isn’t out of intimacy, you think to yourself, you just need to be close enough to Jungkook so you don’t disturb the other patrons with your talking. “She’s either a bad actress or they messed up her character. I really got upset when I read this part, but it’s kinda bland on the screen.”

As much as you love Jimin, you know he’s not going to get your over-criticality over the media. Yoongi and Namjoon are on the other end of the row, but they wouldn’t be too pleased having you gab over the movie because you’re too much of an aficionado. Jungkook is the only one who can tête-à-tête, or in this case, Kit-a-Kat with you.

You sigh into his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. “Let’s pray Jung didn’t completely butcher the chapter where Kenzo reflects on his penniless journey.”

“I’ll leave the theatre right then and there if that happens, care to join me?”

“Already out the door, bossman.”

Jungkook looks away from the screen briefly, reaching forward to take an obnoxiously big bite of the KitKat in your hand. You stifle a giggle, and before you can soak up his cheeky grin he’s already looking back at the movie.

You wonder what Jungkook is like outside of work, if he has that side to him. A little part of you wishes that this playfulness he’s exuding is real. Not to your fake marriage, but a playfulness he can execute to a person that he really likes. Two days out of the office and you’re starting to see that Jungkook has the capabilities to enjoy life, however simple it may be.

The movie is finished in a blur, and you and Jungkook are still bickering over the intricacies of the film compared to the novel. The night air is cold and burns your cheeks, reminding you exactly how late you’ve been out.

“Well, I thought the romance was so boring!” Lisa blurted, wanting an in. Her lime green ski jacket glares in your vision, and you move away from her immediately. “No one cheated on each other, there was no drama, or evil best friend!”

“Whoa there,” and you see the little fire in Jungkook’s eyes, one you’ve learned early on to stay away from when you spent hours in his office debating over manuscripts and plotlines. He stares down at Lisa, really stares down. “You think every romance needs some sort of internalized conflict for it to be good? Why can’t they just grow and learn from the external conflict together? It’s literally useless for them to break up over and over just—”

And that’s your cue to walk ahead of them, because while you did agree with Jungkook, you’ve heard this debate one too many times. Ever the closet-romantic at heart. You hope Lisa doesn’t lose her patience and punch him out.

“Hey,” you feel a hand pat your hair, and you look up at Yoongi. He looks absolutely fluffy in his long puffy jacket, and he matches your steps with his. “Do I look ugly tonight, or something? I feel like we barely exchanged two sentences with each other.”

“What, never!” you chastise, “you always look good, Yoongi. And we have the whole week to catch up, remember?”

“Really, then why don’t we go out in two days to pick out a tree for your house? Joon and I are planning on going.”

“I would love to go pick a tree!” you exclaim, “the last time we got a tree together was when your brother had to lift.”

“Great,” and he pats your head again, but this time his hand lingers to finger the ringlets of your hair. “It’ll be just like old times, baby girl. I’ll pick you up at 9.”

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jungkook’s argument ended minutes ago and he’s mulling over a new type of internal conflict.

“Owie, ow, ow—fuck you! Ow!”

“Well if you just hold still,” Jungkook grimaces, taking his turns with both hands to simultaneously wipe the injury with a cloth and then pressing the affected area with an ice bag.

“Buh ih hurths!” your voice is muffled by the cloth, stained red with freshly bloomed blood.

The ski lodge started off great. You enjoyed a fabulous beligan waffle breakfast courtesy of Jimin’s parents, and then made the trek to the slopes. You’ve been here dozens of times, so you didn’t feel an inclination to gravitate to any of the fancy schmancy sports. You were fine playing shuffleboard inside, but your inner youth complained that it’s the holidays and you should be getting out more.

Jimin and Jungkook (who claimed he hasn't snowboarded since he was 16 yet he’s doing tricks like a goddamn Olympian) were shredding on the slopes while Namjoon and Lisa were skiing on a smaller hill. You and Yoongi watched safely from the lift, riding it like a kiddie attraction. You must’ve taken the lift at least ten times, complaining about how you’re both too lazy to function and you could really use a hot chocolate and a fireplace.

After the fifteenth time on the lift, legs numb, you stumble over with heavy boots to where Lisa and Namjoon were waiting for Jimin and Jungkook. They wanted to walk around more and see if they could try a more difficult slope.

While you were waiting, you had to admit that Jungkook did kind of cool all decked out in his gear. A competitive, playful smile was easily reflected in his gaze despite his helmet and goggles.

That slight admiration is knocked right off your feet when Jungkook speeds by way too close for comfort and you’re in his path. Jimin had already slowed next to your friends and family, looking at you in anticipated horror.

It’s far too late, and despite the fact that Jungkook manages to pull your body to his while you wipe out, your face crashes into his helmet and you taste metal.

Mildly disoriented from the impact, Jungkook’s muffled string of curses nurse you back to a decent consciousness as he tries to carry you to the lodge.

“Holy shit, I got that on camera!” Jimin cries, gesturing to the Go-Pro nestled in his helmet.

So now you’re in pain and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. Your bottom lip is split, and the burn on your face won’t go away.

You watch as Jungkook dotes on you, his bangs pushed up everywhere due to his grey goggles haphazardly being propped upon his forehead. His pink tongue sticks out as he concentrates on not getting blood on your sweater. It’s just you and him that are stuck around in the lodge after you got pummeled, standing by the fire while everyone else continues on with the fun.

“Why were you over there anyway, in the middle of the slope?” he scolds.

“It was the slow down zone, Jeon. You were the only one not slowing down, you speed demon.”

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pressing a little too hard with the ice and you wince. He lets up and presses the cloth to your lips to soak up the moisture.

“Did you say something?”

“I said, I’m sorry.”

You sigh dramatically, “I wish I had a camera to save that shitty excuse of an apology.”

“Speaking of cameras,” he shucks his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Jimin uploaded the video.”

That man, you don’t know where he has the means to quickly upload and edit things, but if it’s for the ‘Gram, it’s worth it to Jimin. You open Instagram and immediately click on @chimmyboi’s story, immediately wincing as the first few seconds reveal the brunt of the impact. He should really put a disclaimer before uploading content.

The tumble between you and Jungkook doesn’t look so bad, but it’s when you get up does it look gnarly. Your chin is dribbling in red liquid, and Jungkook’s throwing off his helmet and goggles in a panic.

He makes a half-assed snowball where you’re lying on the ground, pressing it against your mouth. With his other hand he pulls you into a sitting position, not caring that you’re staining his clothes as he hauls you on his body.

“Ohmygod,” you splutter, trying not to move your lips, “I look like I got decked with a hockey puck.”

“It wasn’t that bad, don’t be a baby.” Jungkook sees the piecing glare you give him, and he sighs. “Okay, it looked pretty bad. I was a little worried back there, but now the bleeding pretty much stopped and holy shit—stop smiling! You’re making it open up further!”

“You were worried?”

“Shut up.”

The ice bag is watery and not doing much anymore, but Jungkook still insists to cool your face down. You lift a hand to his cold ones, attempting to take the bag and cloth from his grasp.

“You should go board with Jimin and the rest of them. I can take care of this.”

“It’s fine,” he reasons, reaching for the ice bag but you hold on tighter.

“C’mon, I know the only thing you were looking forward to this entire trip was going snowboarding. I’m a big girl, I can be alone for an hour or two.”

Jungkook locks his jaw, gnawing at his cheek as he mulls on his decision. “Wouldn’t I look like a bad partner if I leave you?”

“Nah, this has happened before. Almost always someone gets injured on the trip. Last time something like this happened I was eight and I got five stitches on my leg. This is nothing. You’re fine.”

“But still.”

“Fine, you wanna make it up to me?”

You scan the room for any ideas, and it settles on a trio of girls huddled by the register of the built-in café. They’re pretty snow bunnies, decked out in sweater dresses and fur lined boots. They remind you a little of The Powerpuff Girls, all in pastels and attached to the hip. Their gaze has taken hostage in Jungkook’s frame, blatantly ignoring the fact that majority of his attention is directed towards you. You wonder why you haven’t noticed them sooner, because now the staring is getting borderline discomforting.

Slipping off his goggles with your free hand, you gesture subtly to the girls. “They think you’re hot. Go flirt with them a little and get me a free drink, I’m sure they’ll pay for you.”

He doesn’t understand the correlation, “Why would I do that?”

You shrug, separating the strands of hair that stick to his forehead. “Lisa and Namjoon do it all the time when they go clubbing. They compete and pretend they’re single for like two hours, and then they keep a tally of how many people offer to buy them a drink.”

“That is completely different, but I’m open to trying it when we get back to the city.” he acknowledged briefly, getting up from his crouching position. “I got a better idea.”

Puzzled, you watch him saunter over to the register. Like bees to the honey, the girls follow Jungkook with their eyes, watching him exaggeratedly mull over the menu.

He spares the slightest of head inclinations to the drooling trio, “Hello ladies.” The smile is not flirtatious, but kind.

You suppress a giggle, burying your chin in your scarf as you watch the whole interaction. You don’t even know why you asked Jungkook if he would flirt with those girls, as he kept most of his dates private over the years. You picture a college-aged Jungkook getting his daily breakfast on his way to class, ignoring the way his presence attracts heads.

The barista hands Jungkook a tray filled with a plastic cup of ice, and a cup filled with something hot, and a chocolate croissant. He grabs a straw from a tray, stabbing it in the hot drink’s lid.

“Excuse me,” one of the girls coquettishly puts her hands behind her back, puffing her chest out as she leans over Jungkook’s order. “The regular croissants actually taste better in my opinion.”

“Well my wife’s had a hard day, so I think she deserves something sweet.”

He doesn’t even turn around as he makes a beeline to where you’re seated on a loveseat, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table.

“Your better idea was making them jealous?” you ask, unsure of his intentions.

He shrugs, “College-Jungkook always wanted to show off his girlfriend like that, so indulge me for a second, alright?”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “My life is about indulging you. Don’t forget the trips I’ve made to the grocery store when your personal fridge was out of banana—”

“I thought I said we don’t speak of those hard times,” he cuts you off, “ever.”

You stop him from filling up your ice bag with the ice he brought. “C’mon Jeon, you’re burning daylight out there. I got this. You’ve stalled enough, go have fun in the snow with Jimin, you adrenaline junkie.”

He scrunches his nose, but relents when you throw him his jacket and goggles. Before he pulls on his gloves, he cups your face with both hands to pull you in a kiss. His hands are cold from the ice, gluing you in place in fear of him kissing you too hard. But it’s barely that, a brushing of lips so tender as he takes extra care with your open lip.

“Is this also a self-indulgent request?” you pucker, “who knew there was a hormonal teenager under that editor-in-chief’s body.”

His eyes flicker to the audience in the back, and you don’t need to look behind you to note that they’re glaring daggers in your head. It’s like you’re straight out of a rom-com.

“You’re leaving me to the bunnies,” you say teasingly.

“Then hurry up and get better so you can join us,” he taunts, “or else you can’t help me bury Jimin in the snow.”

It’s a tempting offer that makes you down your drink so you can enjoy the rest of your day.

Light seeps through your windows, rays kissing your eyelashes and willing them to open. You groan, hand splaying out to wake up Jungkook. When you find his space empty and cool, you sit up and search for your fake-fiancé.

He’s on the floor, smack in the middle of his morning workout. Your iPad is under his body, and somehow he’s managed to find a setting where the document scrolls for him automatically. He’s not wearing his Airpods, so you rasp, “Jeon, you’re crazy. I get the morning workout, but you don’t have to look over any more transcripts. I think you’ve read enough for this week.”

“It helps me ignore the burn,” he says shortly, and you see the ripples of his back flex with every push-up. “And I wouldn’t have to do so much reading if my assistant would just do her job.”

“I already told you, I’m not working during my vacation.” you throw off the sheets, padding to your closet. “I’m going to pick the tree today. You should go to the mall with my mom and Jimin to pick out some new ornaments.”

“What?” he gets up, and you ignore the perfect view of tight muscles decorating his abs. Exactly how long was he awake for to have sweat clinging to his shirt? You’re going to short-circuit and it’s barely 8:30. “But I wanna go help pick out the tree.”

“You don’t have to do that, Joon and Yoongi got it.”

“Yoongi, really? You think he can carry a tree?”

“This isn’t a pissing contest, Jeon.” you settle on a burgundy Patagonia jacket and grey leggings. “Besides, Yoongi and I are just friends.”

“You sure about that, baby girl?”

You whip around to poke at his chest, and you ignore how smug he looks. “Do not test me, Jeon. Like you said, I’m with you every step of the way in this marriage. I’m not going to jeopardize that over some childhood crush.”

“Wow, your life is really turning into a Wattpad entry,” he admonishes, “fake-fiancé still pining over his older brother’s best friend, really high-qual stuff.”

“I’m serious.” you grit, “I took a week off so I can get away from you and that was ruined, so I would like a little bit of space today.”

And that gets Jungkook to back away. His face deflates a little, and you feel a little guilty for making him upset, but you stab that thought down and convince yourself that he deserves it. It’s not like he cares about you, he just wants to show off to the boys.

“Fine,” he turns around to put on a fresh shirt, and you almost notice the pout marrying his face. “You could’ve just told me you wanted space. I’m getting kind of tired of you too, you know.”

He flops on the bed and you huff in reply, quickly throwing on your attire inside your closet while he watches a YouTube video. You check your phone, and at 8:59 a knock is at your door. Jungkook doesn’t bother to get up to answer, and you open the door to see a sleepy Yoongi with a paper cup in his hand.

“An English breakfast with two sugars and a dash of milk, baby girl.”

You mask your wince at the pet name. It hadn’t bothered you when you were young, but its starting to feel coddling now that Jungkook is making you hyper-aware of the attention. “Perfect,” you faux-beam, the hot beverage warm your fingers.

“I’ll just warm up the car and—”

“Babeeeeee,” the deepest, sexiest voice echoes from your bed and out in the hallway. He sounds absolutely tempting, and needy. You freeze at the way your boss can so easily pretend he’s exhausted and wanting you, “come back to bedddddd. I’m not done with you yet.”

Yoongi’s ears are red, “Aaand, I’ll let you finish whatever business you have.”

The older man bolts out of there, and you snap your head back to look at an innocent Jungkook. He tilts his head at your bout of anger.

“You know, I have half a mind to fling this tea down your shirt.”

“What?” he looks at you like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “He can’t be the only one who can call you baby.”

Honestly, you didn’t mean to lash out on Jungkook like that. You did need to put up a face as you were each other's significant others, but it doesn’t mean you have to be together all the time. To top it all off you’ve been feeling weird as of late, and you can only attribute these terrible feelings to a certain brunet who’s been sleeping in your bed.

But you pin these feelings for another time, because you need to enjoy what little quality time you have with your brother.

“Hey, whaddya think of this one?” It's just you and Namjoon picking the tree, and Yoongi’s sitting in the cabin keeping warm. He said to call him once you’ve decided, since it is your house.

“Hm, it’s fine.” you shrug, inhaling the pine. “Maybe a little too tall.”

Namjoon nods, and you follow him to the next row of greenery. He’s been pensive this whole time, and you have a feeling he’s hiding something. Surrounded by pine and the fresh winter air he says, “Hey, I just wanna say sorry.”

“Why, did you like that tree over there? I don’t mind it, we can go back!”

“What, no? I’m sorry for being weird around Jungkook.”

“Huh?” sure, you noticed the weird language and terseness he gave Jungkook initially, but you chalked it out as big brother issues.

You two continue to walk around the forest aimlessly, not really tree hunting.

“I was just upset that the engagement was so sudden,” Namjoon starts, and you feel the guilt start to set camp in your stomach. “And I don’t know, at first he just didn’t seem like your type? I always thought you wanted to date someone gentle, someone you could hold and depend on. He looked so serious, and maybe a little immature.”

“He is a little immature,” you agree softly, digging your boots in the snow, “but I don’t love him any less because of it. We’re growing together.” Shit, why was that so easy for you to say?

“Figured,” and Namjoon stops to place a hand on your shoulder, “I see the way he looks at you, and you can’t fake love like that.”

Namjoon’s admonition is so convincing that you almost convince yourself that it is something.

Something is bothering Jungkook, and he doesn’t know why.

It’s not the billions of charges he made on his credit card for new ornaments, because it simultaneously inflated his ego and impressed your mom.

It’s not the way Jimin hangs onto his every word and doesn’t let up, because it is refreshing to have your cousin find a genuine interest in him.

Jungkook, Jimin and your mom have been taking laps around the mall for the past hour. They’ve floated around here and there, picking out whatever catches their eye for the tree.

Jimin’s in the middle of explaining the Jamba Juice story when a glimmering window display catches his eye.

“Hun, have you not bought her a present yet?” your mom says over his shoulder.

“No,” he exhales, embarrassed that he just admitted he didn’t think of getting you anything in front of your mom. “She doesn’t ask for anything, really.” Besides her book published, a raise, and a potential promotion as editor, but they didn’t need to know that much.

“Good thing you’re with the right people!” Jimin cheers, ushering him into the jewelry store.

Funny enough, he knows exactly what to get you. Once he points it out, Jimin and your mom “ooh” and “aah” respectively, agreeing that what he chose was perfect. If you had asked Jungkook a week ago what kind of jewlery you like, he’d give you a dumb look and say “something shiny.” But that’s what’s bothering him. He just walked right into the store, saw what was right, and everything just clicked.

Jungkook pins that thought for later, because once their shopping is done they’re back at your villa, arranging the ornaments and detangling the lights that have been holed up in the closet for eleven months.

Jimin and he are sitting on the living room floor, stabbing thread through popcorn. He really only saw this craft in the movies, and the small part of him is amazed that you and your family go through the hard work to make your holidays so warm.

Your mom appears from her bedroom, clutching something in her hand. She sits in front of Jungkook, a huge smile on her face.

“Before you say anything,” and it strikes him how similar you are to your mother. There’s that tone he always receives before he gets new news, or the way you’re eager to share something that will make him happy. “I don’t want you to think this is a luxurious gift or anything. But I realized that you don’t have a wedding band so I went through my old cases and found this.”

She opens her palm slowly, revealing a simple black band.

Jungkook’s lips part to form words, but his vocal cords betray him. At first glance, this ring could’ve been mistaken for one of Jimin’s plentiful rings adorning his fingers. Upon closer inspection however, Jungkook notes that this band is thinner and more worn. The metal looks strong and old, the slight scratches and faded color revealing that it was a well-loved piece of jewelry.

Your mom is offering Jungkook a wedding band.

“If you don’t like it, that’s okay!” your mom says quickly, nerves radiating because of Jungkook’s silence. “It was my grandfather’s. Don’t feel as if you have to accept it. It’s not a wedding band persay, but I think it matches and it looks about your size and we didn’t get you a Christmas gift so—”

“It’s perfect.” Jungkook tells her firmly, sending him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, I guess we kind of rushed the engagement so I didn’t think of getting a band of my own.”

Your mother is grateful, dropping the ring in Jungkook’s awaiting palm. “I think my daughter should be the one who puts it on you, don’t you think?”

“Right,” he echoes, and he just stares at the ring in his hand, feeling weird in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone put this much thought in getting him something this significant. He can’t accept this ring, but he can’t refuse it either. “I could never find something with this much value from a little shop in New York, so thank you.”

“Oh, and while we’re on the topic of New York,” Jimin puts down his completed popcorn wreath, “y/n said she already put in her off days for Easter, so you should too. It’ll be at my place this year, and I live by an indoor skydiving zone. She mentioned you’re an adrenaline junkie.”

“She also mentioned that your birthday’s in September.” your mom pops in, “We were thinking we could take Friday off and stop by for the weekend. I’ve always wanted to see Hamilton!”

Jungkook knows they’re trying to cheer him up. They’re trying to make him feel part of the family, feel wanted. But he can’t remember the last time he’s felt wanted unless it’s for a book deal or a business exchange. It’s been so long since he’s felt this warm, and he didn’t realize how much he yearned for it until he proposed to you.

“Hey man,” Jimin puts an arm around his trembling shoulders, “are you alright?”

“Fine,” he’s crying, and doing a shit job at hiding the tears. “It’s alright, I just,” he can’t even find the strength to get up and walk away from this. Is it pathetic that he’s breaking down in the comfort of your cousin and mom, starved for affection? “I just, I miss my family. It’s just the four of us, but they’re all the way in Korea and it’s been awhile since I’ve really celebrated anything with them. They visit sometimes but it’s not the same, y’know? And work is so stressful but I’m not in a position to say that. And your family is just so, so nice and it makes me miss them even more. You’re all so lucky to support each other like this.”

Jimin and your mom sandwich him like an Oreo. It’s almost funny, how two smaller humans are comforting this big human and not the other way around. “Poor baby, it’s your family too.”

Pathetic. It’s pathetic how much he wishes to have a family like yours, but he can’t have that.

“Can we please not tell y/n about this?” Jungkook wishes, leaning his head on your mom’s. “She’s going through a lot right now with work and stuff, I’d rather just talk to her about this after the holidays, if that’s okay.”

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” your mom runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes automatically flutter closed, “just remember, your feelings matter too, okay?”

You and Jungkook slip into bed at the same time, murmuring half-hearted “how was your days” and brief descriptions of your outings. It’s a little awkward considering the morning’s events, but not unbearable.

“The tree smells really nice,” Jungkook tries, looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, makes the whole room smell like Christmas.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you have a good time shopping, find anything good?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.”

[11:29] Jimin: hey, you know my room’s right next to yours right?

[11:29] Jimin: we share a goddamn wall and im NOT hearing shit

[11:29] Jimin: are you putting that baby blanket to good use ;)

[11:30] You: YOU”REE DISGUSTING are we even family!!!! Can i disown a first cousin??

[11:30] Jimin: i’m just sayin.. U said it was fantastic

You throw your phone away, letting it slide off to the mattress and onto the baby blanket. Yes, the baby blanket is unfortunately here to stay. Over the course of three days, the quilt is like a ball in a tennis match between you and your mother. You’ve given up and just kept it on the floor.

“I have a question,” you say aloud, motioning to your bed partner.

“Shoot.”

“Was it true when you said I was the only girl you knew well enough to be your wife?”

“Of course, that’s why we’re here.”

“I’m just wondering, because I really thought you could pick any girl in the office to be yours.” you stuff your hands under the covers, playing with your ring. “I mean, you’re kinda-sorta handsome. You could’ve picked someone just as pretty and they would have studied your whole life story for you.”

Jungkook's phone falls in his lap, and he looks at you like you’ve lost a couple brain cells. “Normally, I would eat up the fact that you admitted I was attractive. But do you realize you’re just as beautiful, if not more?”

What?

“I know it’s unprofessional, but how professional can we get when we’re married, but you’re the whole package, y/n.” and he says it with such fervor, you can’t formulate a response. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. No one else can take my shit and throw it right back in my face, or debate with me for hours on end about a novel’s direction. Only you can do that.”

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “thanks, you’re right. I’m just clouded, and stressed. And Jimin’s being an ass and it’s really bothering me.”

His chocolate eyes flicker in the darkness of your bedroom, making note of your phone on the floor. “What’d he say?”

“It’s stupid, he said that he thinks it’s weird he hasn’t heard us bang all week,” you force a laugh, “it’s my fault though, he wouldn’t get off my back so I gave up and told him the sex was fantastic.”

“Are you worried he’s unconvinced?”

“A little, maybe? I don’t know.” you’re wrinkling your bedsheets now, turning the cotton into putty as your sweaty palms wring at the edge.

“I don’t mind giving him a show.” Jungkook blurts, and you instinctively pull the covers closer to your chest, even though you’re fully clothed.

“What, like fake moan into the wall?”

“There are things you can do over the clothes,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet of his bedside down slightly. “And you just said you’re stressed. I’d be a bad fiancé to not let you relieve some of that tension.”

Jungkook opens his arms and gestures for you to get on his lap. Your body is hot all over, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re horrified or aroused. Maybe a little of both.

“Are you kidding—you’re my boss!”

“And we’re consenting adults!” he narrows his eyes at you, “don’t say you’ve never thought about it before.”

And the sick, twisted part of you has, a lot. There’s something about a man in a tailored suit and owning up to its power that’s really attractive. Not to mention all those times they’d be traveling for work, stumbling for a quick McDonald's bite at 12AM and he’d be dressed casually in tight black jeans and combat boots. The energy really kept you on your toes.

“Wow, I really hate late-night talks. All the secrets come out, don’t they?”

“If it makes you feel better, your ass looks great in pencil skirts,” you turn to him with flared eyes, “what? I’m just trying to let you know I mayhaps find you attractive.”

“Mayhaps you should stop talking before I regret this.”

His eyebrows lift and disappear from his bangs, the hair freshly dried and fluffy from his late night shower. He then pats his lap with a little blasé as if to say “hop on”, and you ignore the way how good the seat looks, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide his unmentionables.

Trying to fight alongside your last drop of dignity, you take your time.

“C’mon y/n, don’t make it weird.”

“It’s been weird, Jeon! Jimin’s next door!” you hiss, backing away slightly, “Give me some time, I can’t just hump my boss!”

“You’re not humping your boss.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin, the expression looking absolutely sinful in the moonlight. “Think of it as your lover wanting to make you feel good.”

The bridge between love and hatred is a fine, fine line stemmed by passion.

Careful, you lift your blankets up and slip out of them, moving to sit up. It’s ridiculous, tiptoeing around your bed to avoid any sudden creaks in the aged wood of your mahogany headboard.

“We’re out to prove to your family we fuck on the reg,” Jungkook snips, “you can make noise.”

Within seconds, he’s hauling you on his lap. You squeak in surprise, feeling the thin material of his boxers seep through your thin silk shorts. You wriggle around, monitoring Jungkook’s expression. He does not allude too much, but you take note of the way Jungkook secures you with his hands between the swells of your thighs.

“I’m not a rollercoaster, stop adjusting like you’re gonna buckle up.”

Jungkook’s dry humor lightens the mood considerably, and you can’t help but smile timidly at his attempt to make you feel at ease. He lets you take your time, and you never imagined someone so demanding in the office can be so… kind in bed.

You dip forward to kiss his lips once, twice. He looks needy, but lets you set the pace. You appreciate that. You’re salivating at his willingness to make you feel good, and you whimper as he nibbles on a sensitive spot on your neck.

You need more. Sensing your urgency when you jerk his chin up, he muffles your sounds with a harsh kiss, taking care to moan deeply into your mouth. The heat is luxurious on this winter night, burgundy kisses exchanged between the sheets like secrets. His tongue slips between your teeth, tasting every inch of you and exploring you like the deepest texts.

He pulls away slightly, and you’re drowning in his gaze. “Am I still just kinda-sorta handsome now?” he nips at your neck, sucking on a spot between your jaw.

“N-no,” and you pull him up by the chin, taking in his messy hair and glazed eyes, “you’re fucking sexy,” and you tug your mouth to his once more.

You don’t even realize that you’re rolling your hips until Jungkook breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips, making sure your core is nestled perfectly between his hardening length. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to get wet, and the silk glides easily between your thighs like butter.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he encourages, one hand reaching up to cup your breast, “use me, make yourself feel good.”

“Please, don’t call me that,” you whine against his mouth, trying to keep the mood in, “Babe is fine, but baby girl makes me feel like a little kid and I’m not a little kid.”

“You damn right,” and he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, and you gasp hotly into his mouth. It’s too late to muffle your moans, not when you’re drenched with two pathetic pieces of fabric stopping the both of you. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong, amazing woman.”

With every compliment, he does all the work, thrusting with each adjective like he’s blessing poetry into your body.

“J-Jungkook,” the name is muffled against his shoulder, too fuzzed in ecstasy to be embarrassed by the drool coating his tank top. His hair tickles your shoulder as he nips at your clothed breasts, swirling around your nipple. “I-I, m’gonna come,”

“You’re almost there huh?” and he slips a hand between you two to find that sweet spot, swirling designs between your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

And you’re shaking, collapsing into his embrace as he rides out your high. He cradles one hand in your hair as you rub furiously against his other, chasing your pleasure like a starved animal.

“K-Kook,” you murmur into his neck, finding the strength to roll your hips one more time to check. “You’re still hard, do you want me to help?”

“No.” he’s forthright, and as tired as you are, you force yourself to pick your head up. Sweat lines his brow and his face is flushed, but he’s already helping you off and handing you a tissue from the nightstand.

“What?” you’re hurt, and don’t want to admit why.

“Don’t feel like you need to,” he grunts into your forehead, dipping a chaste kiss right in the center. “Just let me do something nice to you for once.”

As much as you want to, you don’t complain as he tucks you in. You don’t complain when you see a wet stain on his Kirby boxer briefs. You don’t answer back when he checks his phone one more time and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. It’s 12:31.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs into your skin, and turns over so his back faces you.

Christmas is a loud and eager affair. The entirety of your family piles into your house while still in pajamas, aunts and uncles from other villas running in with their children with their newly opened toys and gadgets. There’s a buffet style breakfast piled on the kitchen island, and you’re all eating in the living room while watching holiday movies.

Jungkook melds right in, unsurprisingly. He has your baby cousin Dante in his lap, teaching him how to use the controls of his new Nintendo Switch.

Despite only meeting Jungkook a few days ago, you notice that some of your family have taken the liberty of giving him small presents. You spot a simple silver chain around his wrist, courtesy of Jimin, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck, courtesy of your aunt’s impeccable knitting club.

“He fits right in, doesn’t he?”

Yoongi hands you your usual cup of tea, and you accept it gratefully. You’re sitting right next to the tree, and you notice that some of the ornaments are miniature books. You absentmindedly run your fingers over the carved wood, especially on the ones that are your favorite titles.

“Yeah,” you hate to admit, so you whisper it into your mug. But Yoongi can hear, he always does. “I didn’t think it would be this easy.”

“Easy to love him, or easy to fit into this family?”

You splutter into your mug, and Yoongi does the right thing by patting your back. It feels a little bit like he’s burping a baby, but otherwise, it soothes your lungs.

“I am happy for you, you know.” he says, knocking knees with you. “It might not seem like it now, but I truly am.”

Deciding not to dwell on his subversive confession, you thank him for the tea and excuse yourself. Dante seems like he’s got the hang of MarioKart, so you tug Jungkook by the hand and lead him back into your bedroom.

“I got you a present, but I didn’t feel like making a scene about it,” you pull out a pink gift bag, tufts of white tissue paper sticking out. “Also, it’s kinda cheap and it was a last minute thing, so don’t have any high expectations.”

“Gee, you’re really making me feel deserving of this gift,” but he takes his time in unraveling the bag anyway.

He pulls out a shiny onyx black mug, rolling it between his hands. On one side it’s engraved in gold cursive “World’s Best Boss” but on the other side it’s engraved, “World’s Best Husband”.

“Subtle,” he grins, pulling you into a hug. He gets that it’s a gag gift, but because it’s from you, it's a lot more meaningful. You could’ve easily delved into his bank accounts and see what he buys for himself, but you decided to take the more personal route.

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your hair. And to really throw you off he says, “For my gift, I’ve decided to publish your novel.”

You shove him away as if you’ve been stung, and you barely have the voice to ask, “Are you serious, you’ve read my novel? I didn’t even send you the first draft!”

“We share the same Google Drive, it was easy to find. If you had noticed, it’s the only thing I’ve been reading this week,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing, but he’s in actuality giving you your lifelong dream. “You deserve it, really. I’m sorry if you felt like it wasn’t ready to be read. But it was wonderful, you’re a real wordsmith.”

“I’m not upset,” you can’t be, not when he smells so good and he’s trying to hug you all over again. “How many copies?”

“10,000.”

“20,000.”

“15,000, and I’ll even give you permission to dedicate your novel to me.” he raises his brows irreverently.

You scoff at his arrogance, but you don’t admit to confessing that along with professors and your family, you would be dedicating it to him. “Well my gift feels like absolute shit,” you deadpan, “can I have a do-over tomorrow? We can go to the mall or something.”

“You’ve done enough for me,” he disagrees, breaking away from you to place the mug on your desk. “Agreeing to my farfetched proposal, letting me into your home. I think that’s an amazing gift.”

“You’ve been way too nice,” you look at him wearily, noting the rosiness in his cheeks.

“You say that like it’s not possible!”

“Who knows? Maybe the Christmas spirit has performed a miracle, who am I to judge?” and you can’t get enough of the man, running into his heart one more time. Pressing your ear to his chest you sing, “Well, in the Poconos they say, that Jeon Jungkook’s heart grew three sizes that day.”

It may have not grown three sizes, but if the living room wasn’t so loud, maybe you could’ve heard his heart beating three times as fast.

The calm after the storm is your favorite part of Christmas. Most of your extended family has left to mull in their own homes, leaving your family to laze around until it’s just you and Jungkook that are awake.

Jim Carrey’s version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is playing on Netflix, arguably the only superior rendition of the children's book. The tree is still glowing by the fireplace, soft white lights trickling in the darkened room.

Earlier in the night, you and Jungkook had cuddled up in the middle of the couch under a blanket, and were too lazy to move even when the entirety of your family vacated. Either of you could’ve easily shoved each other off and went to bed, but here you are, making offhand comments over hot cocoa. Each second that passes by, you’re more aware of how well you two sink between the fabric like you’re meant to do this. The domesticity terrifies you, but you don’t dare to point it out.

“How does his face do that?” Jungkook turns to you, contorting his face into funny expressions. It’s a poor attempt at the green creature on the screen, but it makes your mouth twitch and you fight the urge to giggle. “It’s like he’s made of rubber.”

“He has a sense of humor, unlike some people.”

“Very funny,” he says, turning away to take a sip of his cooca.

Sinking further into the couch, you unconsciously latch onto him more, savoring his body heat. “Can I confess something?”

“What’s up?”

“A week ago, I loathed you. I used to have recurring dreams about you getting run over by a Wonderbread truck. And I was driving the truck.”

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.”

“No really, if I had the opportunity to watch you get hit by a cab, I would’ve paid for it.”

“If it were possible for me to file for divorce at this very second, now would be time. You are a walking red flag.”

“Okay, but!” you shush him with a finger to your lips, and he goes cross-eyed at the touch. “After seeing your stellar performance this week and an impeccable display of human emotion. I think after all of this, we could be friends.”

“Fwends?” he says through your finger, mouth smushed. “Why whuh we?”

Instead of lifting your finger right away, you swipe at his cherry lips, getting rid of the marshmallow sticking to the corners.

“Because we get along.” you say simply.

“Because we’re supposed to be getting married.”

“No! We’ve always gotten along! We’ve just been too up our asses to notice!” you sit up, appalled. “Here’s my theory, a change of setting has suddenly spurred on your character development—”

“—y’know I really don’t appreciate your use of literary jargon, it’s really pretentious—”

“—because without your external conflict, you have a chance to let loose and enjoy your life for once!”

Jungkook frowns, adjusting his frame so he slightly hovers you. He’s pretty like this, dressed in fluffy black pajamas and his face soft. His eyes absorb the Christmas fairy lights, and you notice for the first time in two years that there are no longer purple bags under his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice so small you wonder if he’s worried to crush the moment. “Friends are hard.”

You shake your head vehemently, “Friends are easy, keeping them is the hard part.”

He doesn’t know why he’s being so weird about this. You’ve worked for him for over two years, you know him as well as you know your skincare routine, down to the last detail.

“Jeon, don’t think too hard about this,” you try to get him to lighten up, the intense look in his eyes throwing you in for a loop. It makes the little hamster wheel in your head spin rapidly, and you wonder if you’re really crossing a line. “Jimin said you had a really good time yesterday, I was almost jealous I couldn’t come shopping with you.”

He cracks a smile at that, “Yeah, Jimin and I shared a moment,” and he leans down to the shell of your ear, “and he said he really enjoyed our moment last night.”

“Oh my god!” you grab a nearby throw pillow, chucking the rough fabric in his face.

He breaks into a laugh, but not the wine and dine chuckles that he’d have between terse negotiations for work. It’s a full out giggle, like he’s proud to have riled you up enough to break your resolve. Who knew your angry face could be so cute?

“I guess if we’ve crossed a line, might as well make it all the way to the end,” Jungkook says easily, running a hand through his chocolate tresses.

You and Jungkook are leaving the day after tomorrow. Most of your stuff is packed and ready to go, and you’re currently spending the rest of your night at a sit-down dinner with your immediate family plus Jimin.

It’s peaceful, you muse. Jungkook even offered to help cook. Back at Big Hit not once did he ever bring leftovers from home, always insisting you order something for him during work. Kimchi fried rice is a simple dish, but Jungkook had taken great care in making sure it was cooked properly and adjusted to your family’s tastes.

Your parents are glowing and enjoying their time with the whole family, a rarity that grows more valuable with age. The meal soothes you like a balm, reminding you of old conversations that had you spew milk out of your nose or Namjoon accidentally spilling beans on your lap.

“Oh, you should also clear your schedule for the first week of September,” Jimin says absentmindedly, shoving another mouthful of fried rice. “Besides Easter, Jungkook says we can celebrate his birthday and visit for the weekend.”

“Seriously,” Namjoon balks, sitting up straight as he regards you in disbelief. “You’re sure your Devil of a boss will enjoy you out of his chains for two vacations, god forbid you take the holidays off again.”

The grip on your fork tightens, but you steel yourself. Honestly, you were wondering why it took Namjoon this long to let it all out. He was always vehemently against your job, as he was the person who got the brunt of your vents when you were stressed. Probably for the sake of Christmas he let it go, but now that it’s over, the topic’s fair game.

“Oh, c’mon Joonie,” your mother frowns, “not at the table.”

“He isn’t that bad, Joon.” you reason, completely ignoring Jungkook as you stare straight at your brother. “He means well—”

“Means well?” Namjoon barks a laugh, as if it’s the most laudable thing. “Sis, you cried everyday for a straight month after you were hired.” he places his hands on the table, regarding you carefully, “I had to personally call your doctor in New York to get you sleeping pills, and not to mention that two weeks ago, you were crying again because you were worried he forgot your vacation and would make you work! Don’t tell me he ‘means well’ when I’ve been busy picking up the pieces!”

At this point, you’re livid. Jungkook’s right here, and while you can’t go ahead and out the fact that he is your boss, you can still have his back.

They don’t know that you’ve picked the pieces back up, reinforced yourself to create a better version of the person you once were.

“He does mean well,” you cry, matching your brother’s red tone to a T. “He’s just stressed and genuinely cares about the company. I choose to work long hours because he takes his time in making sure the work we publish is worthwhile, and I support that. He’s hard on me because he knows I have potential. He’s going to make sure I succeed.”

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “You’re seriously defending your shitty boss?”

Jimin puts a hand over Namjoon’s in an attempt to placate him, but he shoves it away.

“Honestly,” Namjoon spits venom, “how can you possibly stand to be around someone who makes your life so miserable?”

Your meal has gone cold, and your fists clutch desperately at your jeans. The breath is robbed from your lungs, and you can’t look at anyone for fear of them regarding you with guilt. You know since the day you got hired that your family wasn’t exactly enthused at your boss’ level of expectation and work output. But they don’t know the industry, and they don’t even really know Jungkook past the surface level. .

But you know in their eyes, they’re right. Their daughter left their comfy home to pursue her lifelong dream, only for it to be broken in a matter of weeks. It’s natural to feel protective, and while you’re resilient and were able to get it together as of late, it wasn’t enough for them to understand. As someone who loves you, it’s obvious they’d want to blame your boss, blame Jungkook for your suffering.

You imagine your father would ask Namjoon to step outside, or your parents would make Jimin pull you and Jungkook out. Neither of those things happen.

A warm, large hand is placed on top of yours. You look towards Jungkook, face unreadable as he squeezes your thigh.

“Namjoon’s right.” Jungkook utters, pressing his lips together. “You deserve to be treated with respect. The boss has never appreciated the hard work you do, at least not out loud. You’re too good for him.”

“Jungkook,” you gape, putting your other hand over his.

He pulls away at your touch, glancing at the clock. “This dinner was wonderful,” he says gently, looking apologetic to your parents. “Excuse me, but I promised to call my parents at this time.”

The excuse is completely half-assed, but no one says anything as he leaves, walking out the door without a coat. The table is terse, with your parents attempting to coax out dessert while Jimin clears the dinner table. You refuse to look at Namjoon, who has no idea why you’re so upset. You wait five minutes before you mumble about getting Jungkook a jacket.

However, when you open the door he isn’t sitting on the porch. He’s all the way up the street, too far for you to be heard with a yell, and walking farther into town. The black hoodie falls to your side, disappointed.

Jungkook does in fact, call his parents. Your mother suggested it when she gave him the ring, thinking it would ease his homesickness if he made a better effort to communicate his feelings.

And so he spends over an hour huddled in a cafe, talking about nothing and everything with his mom and dad. He tells them about the little novelties he’s experienced this week, like making popcorn strings and picking out themed Christmas ornaments. He tells him how he promises to book a flight back to Korea as soon as his work visa goes through. While he doesn’t mention the proposal, he mentions you. He prattles on and on about how strong and beautiful you are, and how you’ve crept up on him and made him realize how awful of a person he was.

His mom prattles excitedly through the line, saying that women make you realize how much better you can be for them, but she doesn’t know the half of it.

Jungkook sat there in your dining room, Namjoon boldly telling you off about how miserable he’s made you.

And yet still, you defended him in ways he never imagined. Your relationship has always been mutual, and prickly at best. You balanced each other out, but he knows he doesn’t deserve you. When he first hired you, he rendered you indispensable like all the other assistants that couldn’t handle it. You’d break eventually.

And you did break. But you picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, and you didn’t resent him for it. He hated that. How can you trust someone who’s hurt you so much?

He can’t let you go through with this marriage. You’re wrong. You don’t need him to be successful.

[11:09] You: mom unlocked the door for you. Jimin and i went out for drinks so idk when ill be back

[11:09] You: please don’t be mad at me

Silly girl, why would he ever be mad at you?

His plan is simple, Sneak into your villa, grab his luggage, and try to book the earliest flight back to New York. Then, he can come clean to Taeyeon and spend the year in Korea while they work out his visa issues. He’ll quietly pack his things and clear out the office before Monday. Hopefully by the time he makes it to Busan, he can forgive himself. He’s going to regret missing your expression when you get to hold the first physical copy of your novel.

This plan proves difficult when he sees Namjoon waiting outside for him, sitting on his luggage and reading a book. His long legs are splayed across the porch, and he doesn’t spare Jungkook a glance.

“Knew something was off,” the older man doesn’t look up from his novel, “found the mug on her desk, bossman.”

Muttering a curse under his breath Jungkook opens his arms, “Are you gonna beat me up now?”

“What? No, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jungkook scoffs, and watches Namjoon roll his luggage to the back of the van. “And out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll save you the Lyft fare and drive you to the airport.”

Is he that predictable? He flinches at the sudden jet of the ignition, and he takes heavy, snow-laden steps to the passenger seat. Once buckled in, Namjoon tosses the book in his lap. “Some light reading for the drive.”

If Namjoon wasn’t the driver, he wouldn’t hesitate to chuck the book at his big, intelligent head. Instead, he glowers, clutching the book tightly. It’s only when they round the corner to a house brightly decorated with lights, does he see what novel Namjoon’s plucked.

A Mutually-Assured Attachment. Jungkook tosses the book back and forth between his palms, noting the soft cover is so worn it could melt apart in his lap. It feels tended and loved from years of use.

It’s Jungkook’s first novel, and you had a copy. One of the first editions, if he remembers the cover art correctly. Granted, he thought you had some of his books purely because of your job, but not one from your childhood. Frankly he thought this should have never been published, but he was nineteen and that in itself was a large feat.

He carefully peels the pages, and takes out his phone to shine the flashlight mode. At the very front, blood red ink is scratched next to the title: “this is THE most pretentious title i’ve read in my life! Don’t disappoint me jeon!!”

Your handwriting’s all over the place. He sees graphite, gel, and glitter pens mark the margins, as if you’ve come back each time to write something new. The annotations vary, from “this part sucks” to “shit, that’s good i should do that”. You draw little pictures of the objects he’s contrived, from the little brass locket one character cherishes to the facial expressions you imagine they hold.

And at the very end, your handwriting sits neat and bold on the inside cover: I can do better than him.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, turning off the light. You’re always right.

Namjoon senses the younger one is done, and he clears his throat. “I really really don’t understand what she sees in you.”

“I don’t understand either,” Jungkook agrees easily, his finger tracing your handwriting. He muses that you were always out to get him, even if you didn’t know it.

Namjoon masks his surprise by clearing his throat. “But I’d rather seek to understand than live the rest of my life having my sister resent me. I don’t really know what you two are going through, but if she trusts you with her life, I’ll try. Emphasis on try.”

“I don’t deserve your trust.”

“You damn right you don’t,” succumbing to his impulses Namjoon makes a sharp turn, and Jungkook holds his stomach together before it flies out the window.

You come home to find your room cold and barren. All of Jungkook’s things are gone, except your Christmas mug.

You at least thought Jungkook would spare you a goodbye before he ditched you. You hoped you’d at least consider each other friends who provide explanations after all of this.

Lifting the mug off the desk, you hear a little clink in the glass, the chime unfamiliar. Hurriedly, you pour out its contents. A heavy, tungsten black ring lands in your palm. You clench the metal between your fingers, hugging it to your chest.

Mind made up, you dash out to the hallway, nearly bumping into your cousin. At the same time you and Jimin blurt, “We need to go to the airport.”

Apparently Namjoon warned Jimin that something fishy’s going on. Namjoon didn’t know what, but he had the inkling that Jungkook was hiding something. Once Jimin received the text to meet them at the airport, he flung you in his sedan and floored it. Flushed with adrenaline, Jimin is speeding with a fervor you’ve never experienced.

“Can you please, take the edge off and tell me what the hell is going on?”

Just like how Jungkook didn’t want Big Hit to go down the drain, you didn’t want this week to be in vain. You can’t wait a year for Jungkook to come back, and you didn’t want to publish your first novel without him by your side.

“Long version or short version?”

“The in-the-middle version. I don’t think I have the brain capacity to absorb all your drama right now but I really need some answers.”

“O-kay. Basically, Jungkook isn’t a Literary Agent. He’s my god-awful boss. Or was awful, I don’t know. Jungkook left the country before his work visa was fully processed. That’s a breach, so he needs to live in Korea for a year to come back. But he can’t run Big Hit remotely, so he proposed to marry me to attain citizenship.”

Your head whips to the dashboard and you cry out, barely stopping the impact with your hands.

“Sorry, sorry!” Jimin’s eyes are focused on the red light, absolutely terrified. “Bitch, you’re committing fraud with your boss! You could go to jail, that’s like, the hottest love story ever!”

“But he’s going back to Korea because now he suddenly realized he can forge basic human connection.” you mutter, “so no, we’re not going to jail because he’s decided to do the right thing.”

“So what you’re saying is, Jungkook has achieved self-actualization and decided to peacefully move to Korea and sacrifice the company for you.” Jimin is carving his free hand in the air, gesturing wildly. “Don’t you see! He really likes you.”

“Yeah, so now we need to go to the airport and tell his dumbass this isn’t the time to be selfless.”

Once you find a spot you’re rushing out of the car, weaving between carts and people to find the correct terminal. This airport is much smaller than JFK, so it’s easy for you to navigate and get past the TSA. It also helps that Jin’s wife is an attendant.

“He chose the 1:45 flight in Terminal 31A,” Mijoo chirps from her tablet, leading you in the right direction. She’s dressed impeccably, the odds and ends of this airport glued together by her impeccable organization. She points to the clock, which glares a digital 1:18AM. “You have time.”

“Thank you Mijoo,” you exhale gratefully, “and I’m so so sorry I skipped your wedding!”

“This is the 300th time you’ve said it,” Mijoo rolls her eyes, pushing you and Jimin forward, “But I’ll make sure not to miss your wedding.”

You’re sweating from your down jacket, and you can’t believe it’s really all come down to this. The one person you’ve spent the last two years of your life doting on, and you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him not just for the publication of your novel, but because you needed him.

Jungkook’s sitting in the waiting area of Terminal 31A, looking wholly inconspicuous as he reads a book and has his hood propped up.

Fists balled, you stride forward only to have Jimin tug you back. “What?”

Jimin pulls off your thick coat, making haste to wipe the sweat off your brow with his sleeves and flatten your messy hair. “What?” he tilts his head to the side, “you need to look good before the big confrontation. I’m recording this for archival purposes. Do you have any lip balm by any chance? You look chapped.”

You slap his hands away, but those grubby fingers just come back with a vengeance. “My life is just a big show to you, isn’t it?”

“Living vicariously all day, every day.”

While Jimin parts your bangs, the intercom cuts through the air.

“The 1:45 flight to John F. Kennedy International airport will now commence boarding. Please line up according to the ticket class.”

Jimin smiles at you, squeezing your shoulders and gestures for you to go. To your horror, Jungkook is first in line. Panic bubbles to your throat.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you cry, voice echoing throughout the terminal. “If you so much breathe in the direction of that plane I will call Mark Lee right this second and tell him the book series is off!”

Like a deer in the headlights, Jungkook heeds to your voice immediately. In his stupor you jog forward to snatch his wrist and pull him out of line. You don’t let go until you’re away from the long line, and Jungkook tugs his wrist away.

“Don’t you dare call him,” Jungkook looks serious, as if you didn’t drive all the way to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. “I will never forgive you if you terminate Mark Lee’s contract.”

“And I won’t forgive you if you get on that plane.”

Pain flashes in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need to. I can’t let us—let you go through with this. You and your family deserve better.”

“What? Jungkook, I agreed to this just as much as you did.”

“No, you didn’t.” he’s adamant, and steps back with every step you take forward. “As your boss I threatened you, held it over your head like an ultimatum. I’ve hurt you,” his voice cracks, looking at you desperately, “why would you want to be stuck with me when I’ve made your life miserable?”

“If I really wanted to leave, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” You reason, “Do you really want to leave the company behind? To fucking Karen?”

“Of course I don’t!” Jungkook exclaims, “but it isn’t worth hurting you, hurting your family and everyone that loves you.”

“And what about you? You’ll be hurt when you leave,” and you step forward, so close that your chests are touching. You take hold of his hands, clutching them between your small ones. “Don’t go, stay with me in New York. We’ll both work hard and try to not run each other to the ground. Let’s be better together.”

You’re practically begging, biting your lip raw and hoping Jungkook understands how good this change is for the both of you.

Jungkook is conflicted, looking back and forth between the airline boarding for JFK and your watery eyes. He hates seeing you like this. He can’t imagine you, the strongest woman he’s ever met, crying because of him. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind and he tries to smash it to the edge of his memory. But as always, you’re right.

He replaces your grip with his own, and gets down on one knee.

Jungkook says your name like it's the sweetest of songs. You’ve never seen him so terrified. “y/n, I didn’t do it right the first time, so let me try again. Please, marry me. Marry me because I want to date you. I want to take you out and give you what you deserve, what we deserve. I want to do better for myself, do better for you. I’ve realized you’re the only person that makes me feel like I’m simultaneously on fire and on thin ice,” he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a thin band with interlocking black and clear diamond studs. It’s a pretty little thing, with a groove in the center so it stacks perfectly with your engagement ring. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I chickened out at the last second,” he says sheepishly, tucking his head in. “But if you let me put this ring on your finger, I promise to be your home away from home.”

With a sob you fall to your knees, throwing yourself onto Jungkook. A small “oof” escapes his lips, and he struggles to hold your waist so you both don’t topple over. “Yes, yes, yes!” you cry, pulling away to cup his face with both hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss.

Jungkook’s smile takes up his entire face, and he eagerly pecks your lips one more time before ripping the ring from its holder and stacking it on top of your engagement ring. The teardrop diamond is nestled perfectly between the thinner band’s V. “Pretty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Wait,” you pull out the black ring that you found in your room, holding it to his face. “I’m assuming this is yours?”

“Yeah,” he replies, “your mother said it was your great grandfather’s. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the thought that counts.”

“It matches,” you hum, placing his simpler band in his ring finger. Once it’s on, you take a deep breath. “Shit, we’re really doing this?”

Jungkook pulls you to stand, wiping the happy tears from your cheek. “We are, we’re a team, remember? We’ve crossed the line and we gotta finish it.”

And he picks you up, the workouts definitely paying off as he spins you around like you’re the leads in La-La Land, drunk off the happy chemicals firing in your brain. Jimin whoops and hollers, along with all the other patrons in the vicinity of the airport terminal.

Your real-fiancé puts you down, the both of you now hyperconscious of the stares people give you. Other people have filmed the proposal as well, completely smitten by your confessions.

“Jungkook,” you giggle into his shoulder, “you were right. Our story is straight out of a Wattpad entry.”

“Down to the super cheesy in-public airport proposal?” he chimes, pressing his forehead to yours. “Couldn’t have asked for a better love story.”

“I can’t wait to fall in love with you,” you whisper, quiet enough for his ears only, “for real, this time.”

“Not that it’s a challenge,” he teases softly, “but I’m already halfway there.”

some months later.

“Like the new office, boss lady?” your new assistant (yes, you have an assistant!) asks kindly, his bubbly presence uplifting you immediately. He leads you to the window box, filled with tiny plants. “I figured you like succulents, because you have no time to water them and they’re prickly like you.”

“Very funny, Seungkwan.” you chide good-naturedly, picking up a succulent with a yellow flower in the middle. “But thank you, your interior design skills are outmatched. I can’t wait to work with you.”

“Me too, your social commentary you published on the literary industry? And you managed to lace it all up in an inconspicuous fantasy novel?” Seungkwan boasts, “I applied for this position right then and there.”

“Thanks Seungkwan, why don’t you take your lunch and we’ll meet back at one to discuss our plans for next week.”

“Sounds good, do you want me to pick you up something?”

“I’m good, I’m meeting with the bossman.”

Seungkwan gives you that look, his lips jutting out in a suggestive manner that almost makes you burst into giggles. Your assistant decides not to bother you until after you’ve eaten, and bids you goodbye.

Just when you get a moment of peace, a handsome face pokes his way inside. “Hello editor,” Jungkook knocks on your door for the sake of attention, but you’re already dragging him into the office and shutting the door tight. “Like your new office?”

“Love it,” you moan, gesturing to Seungkwan’s light filtering curtains. They’re not dark, rather a tasteful sea green, but they’re opaque enough to stop wandering eyes from peeking into your space. Your personal space was a qualm that immediately needed to be mended after your experience in Jungkook’s office. “A lot more private than your office.”

“A little part of me hates how much you deserve this promotion,” he sits on your desk, and doesn’t hesitate to pull you between his legs, letting you lean into his chest, “but I do love the added privacy.”

You fiddle with the buttons of his navy collar, his strong thighs trap you between him, “Why, miss me already?”

He shrugs, “Taehyung doesn’t look as good as you do in a pencil skirt.”

You laugh, brushing the strands of hair that fall from his coiff. “No one looks as good as I do in a pencil skirt.” A firm grip confirms that, two strong hands cupping your backside. “Mr. Jeon!” you gasp playfully, pushing him away slightly to pinch his cheeky grin. “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry, but we can always continue this for dessert.”

He groans in your neck, “Love the sound of that, Mrs. Jeon.”

bonus.

“FUUUCCCKKKKKK YEEAAHHHHH!” Park Jimin’s voice bounces off the walls of Taeyeon’s office, his face taking up the entire screen of his desktop as the camera shifts harshly between him and you and Jungkook at the airport. “My cousin’s not going to jail! WOO!”

Taeyeon pauses the YouTube video at a particularly unflattering screencap: Jimin’s nostrils are flaring wildly and he looks fairly high mid-scream.

A low whistle escapes Jungkook’s lips, “Wow. That video’s viral,” he looks to you appreciatively, “if Jimin kicks off his YouTube career, you think we can milk a memoir outta him?”

“Potentially,” you reply nonchalantly, playing with your rings.

“So,” Taeyeon’s voice is icy, slashing between your casual conversation, “you’re getting married, for real this time?”

“Yep,” Jungkook pops.

“Alright,” and from her desk she pulls out an ungodly stack of documents, one that mirrors your own back at the office. “Jungkook, you’ll stay with me. y/n, you’ll go to Vernon’s office and he’ll give you the same spiel. We’ll interview you privately with the same questions. A hair out of place and you’re in trouble. You sure you want to go through with this?”

You and Jungkook exchange looks, betting your own company that you got this in the bag.

“Hit us with your best shot.”

#jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jeongguk #jungkook fluff #kpop #kpop fic #jjk #bts x reader #how did i manage to write this

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winterscaptain · 4 years ago

Text

tell.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i cannot tell yall how long i have been working on this one, so i'll save it. thanks to @ssaic-jareau for hanging in there with me as i pulled late nights to make this happen over the weekend!! i love you!! i know it's broad daylight for you while im being irresponsible, but i appreciate it nevertheless. let me know what you think, my lovelies! i cherish your thoughts!

words: 7.4k warnings: language, discussion of sex, canon-typical case events

summary: “we are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.” veronica roth, allegiant. au!may 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

It’s always tough to spend time away from home when you aren’t on a case, but a conference kept you from your boys the last couple of days, on Strauss’s request. Aaron was none too happy about it, but as the junior-most agent in the unit (even with five years under your belt), the shitty seminars and professional development events fell on your shoulders.

Even though you landed early in the morning, flying coach all the way back from California, there was a whole day with Jack waiting for you and Aaron upon your return. A rare Saturday - no case, no paperwork, just family.

You knock on the door with a knuckle, unable to reach your keys around your bags and breakfast.

Aaron opens the door with a “Hey!” coated in laughter, kissing your cheek. He’s still in his pajamas.

You squint at him. “Am I early?”

He snorts. “Never. We’re running late.” He takes the takeout bags and coffee from your hands. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“Of course. I wanted -”

Jack runs across the apartment and slams into you full force. “You’re home!”

You curl around him, your hands on his head and shoulder as he cuddles into you. “I am! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

His voice is muffled by your shirt and it makes you smile. You glance at Aaron over Jack’s head to find a smile.

“Come look at our fort!” Jack, wearing a blanket cape, takes you by the hand and brings you into the dining room, where the dining room table has been turned into a massive fort fit for a king.

Or, rather, two kings.

“Oh my goodness, Jack. This is incredible, little bug. Your architectural prowess knows no bounds.” You look up at Aaron from your place on the floor. “Where’s your cape?”

His deadpan, as usual, never fails to make you laugh. “Uh, I’m wearing it.”

Jack continues to drag you all the way under the table until you’re laying on your bellies in the little slap-dash shelter.

Aaron flops down on the floor on the other side of Jack. “We slept in here all night.”

“Really? That sounds like so much fun.”

What you mean is, What, with your bad back?

“Mmhmm,” he replies, only to really say -

Yep. I feel like shit.

“Can we sleep in here again tonight, Dad?” Jack asks, turning to Aaron. “All together?”

You exchange a glance with Aaron, who laughs.

So much for grown-up plans...

+++

You’re both scrambling to get ready for the bike ride across the mall and day at the Smithsonian when the phone call comes in.

“Hotchner,” Aaron says, still at the counter, tucking his phone under his chin as he finishes packing the rest of the picnic basket.

He freezes, hastily bagging some carrots and putting them in the basket before holding the phone in his hand and leaning heavily against the counter. “You’re kidding.”

That’s not a good tone.

Jack looks up at you, and you rest your hands on his chest over his shoulders, backing him into you as you watch Aaron with your lip between your teeth.

“Did they raise the terror alert?”

Shit.

“Okay. That’s for the best. Um…” He checks his watch. “I’ll get down there now. Yeah….Do you need the rest -”

With a huff, he meets your eyes and nods.

You let out a sigh and kiss Jack’s head. He knows the drill and runs off for your phone, still charging in the bedroom.

“Understood, ma’am. I’ll be there first. We gotta get Jack squared away but I’ll get going while -” He pauses, probably interrupted by Strauss again. “Thank you...Yes...I’ll be there as soon as I can and the rest of the team will meet at the scene.”

You know that also means you. You also can’t ignore the prick of anxiety that shoots through your belly, knowing he’ll likely be in danger without you for at least a half-hour.

Jack returns with your phone, Jessica already on the line.

+++

Aaron, of course, leaves right away while you wait for Jess.

You sit on the couch with Jack. “I’m so sorry, buddy. We’ll have to do a big day, just the three of us, another time.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s okay. Sometimes you just gotta catch the bad guys.”

The offhand nature of his understanding strikes you as instantly hilarious, and he laughs with you when you double over, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Yeah. Sometimes you just do, kiddo.”

+++

When you finally arrive at the scene, Dave’s already set up hostage negotiation. You cross the street, finding Will and JJ huddled with Emily and Derek.

“You okay?” You ask, placing your hand on Will’s shoulder. He’s not just JJ’s not-husband. He’s your friend, too, all on his own.

“Yeah, jus’ fine.” He shakes his head. “Jus’ a little rattled, is all.”

“Understandable.”

His mouth presses into a thin line as he exhales. “Thanks.” He checks his watch. “Y’all should get on back. I think Strauss just showed up.”

JJ kisses his cheek and trots off to meet the rest of the unit. After another hug for Will, you follow suit.

+++

“The media's calling them the Face Cards. Seven bank robberies in seven months. They've killed one person at each robbery.” Aaron leads the rest of you to the trailer, where the monitors are all set up.

Dave furrows his brow. “M. O.?”

“Single gunshot wound. Each of the victims has bled out.”

That doesn’t make much sense.

You jump in. “Serial killers with a 30-day cooling-off period and we're only just hearing about this now?”

“Well, headquarters has always characterized them robbers first and killers second,” Aaron replies, glancing back at you. You roll your eyes.

Of course they did.

“No one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies,” Spencer notes. He’s more than right, and you thought the same thing - it’s almost like he took the words out of your mouth.

“I disagreed with the original assessment. I was overruled.” Aaron’s bland version of frustration is clear in his tone, but he knows, just as you do, that ship has sailed. All you can do now is handle what’s in front of you.

“So why are we here now?” Dave asks.

“Because crisis negotiation is overseas.”

Aaron starts to walk again as JJ asks after more information. Aaron usually rattles it off pretty quickly, but with the quick start this morning, you know he trusts the rest of you to ask the questions you need. “What more do we know about them?

“They're organized, they're efficient. Each strike lasts about two minutes.”

Derek, walking beside you, finally joins the conversation. “They gotta be scouting the banks in advance. Why haven't we been able to identify them off of surveillance footage?”

“They hack the security feed and turn off the cameras, both during the initial canvass and during the robbery, until the masks come back on, and then we're allowed to watch.” Aaron leads you all into the tactical staging truck, watching the security feeds.

+++

As you continue to watch, the scene becomes clearer, the power dynamics more tangible.

Dave sees it, too. “They're using the hostages as human shields.”

JJ, with Will beside her, studies the footage, watching the Queen run around while the King finds himself preoccupied with the Jack’s wound. “This is the first time they've been interrupted. What went wrong?”

“It's a big bank,” Emily says. “It's possible they weren't about to round everybody up before someone triggered an alarm.”

That’s a fair point, but you ask your question anyway. “Why haven't they cut the feed now that they've been cornered?”

Derek, still beside you, answers. “Letting us see inside gives up a tactical advantage. They gotta know that.”

They don't seem to care,” Aaron says, from your other side.

You’re all silent for another minute, watching to see what happens next. Even though their plans went awry, the team still looks fairly calm and collected, all things considered.

JJ’s frown only deepens. “They're overconfident. Arrogant, even.”

“The face card masks add to their narcissism.” Spencer’s voice comes from the end of the line. “Their personas are the royalty of poker.”

You nod - it’s a great point - while Aaron starts making assignments.

“JJ, Reid, and Prentiss, look at past robberies. That's gonna be our victimology. Pull another analyst if you need to.” He turns to you, then Dave, on his other side. “I want you two to handle negotiations. And, Morgan, strategize tactical options with MPD.”

You shuffle, gathering your radio and earpiece from the charger next to Penelope’s computer.

When the rest of the team leaves, you hang back with Dave, keying into the radio channels and standing by for further instruction - you know there’s more for you in the trailer at the moment.

Further instruction, though, may have to wait. Strauss climbs the steps into the rig and Aaron greets her. “Chief Strauss.”

“The Director ordered me to supervise your operation.”

Of course he did.

“Puts you right in the spotlight,” Dave says, not unkindly. It’s almost fond.

You can’t help but hold back a little bit of a smile. If the situation were reversed and it was Aaron at the helm, you’d be proud of him, too.

“Well, you've got gunmen with hostages in the Capital. The Hill's concerned.”

Aaron nods, gesturing to you and Dave. “We're about to open lines of communication.”

“What about a tactical assault?”

The three of you shake your heads as Aaron responds. “I don't think it's a good idea. There are hostages in front of the doors and windows.”

Erin, finally onboard, turns to Dave. “What's your negotiation strategy?”

“The Jack's bleeding out. They'll ask for medical attention.”

You hum, a little skeptical, and look back at the feed. “The female unsub might have something to say about that. Look at her body language.”

Dave follows your gaze. “She is cold and detached. The King seems genuinely concerned about his partner's welfare. But she couldn't give a damn.”

Your eyebrows raise. “The men probably know each other.”

Aaron, picking up on your train of thought, flags Penelope, “Garcia?”

She turns in her chair, already typing. “Shuffling my techno-fabulous deck of databases, sir.”

And so it begins.

+++

“I’ll do the talking - I’ll need to establish some rapport with them, but I’ll need you keeping the team updated and coordinating any allowances or personnel as things come up, okay?”

You nod, a little smile pulling at the side of your mouth. “You got it.”

Dave claps your shoulder. “You’ll be in this chair one day, so pay attention.”

“Yes, sir.”

He dials in and the phone starts ringing through the speaker. You’ll be able to hear everything.

“Who the hell's this?” You check the monitor. The King picked up the phone.

Obviously, the Jack can’t pick up the phone, stupid, he’s bleeding out!

“My name is David Rossi. I'm with the FBI. To whom am I speaking?”

The King doesn’t address the question, but rather looks back toward his fallen compatriot. “All right, I want a doctor sent in, and then I want out of here.”

Dave checks his watch. “Well, we certainly can discuss that. Let the hostages go and we'll give you all the medical help you need.”

You take a mental note. Your memories from Dave’s lectures at the academy are fuzzy at best, and you haven’t had very much time handling these things in the field. The last time a major hostage crisis was at hand, you were a hostage yourself.

A shot hostage, if the chronic nerve pain in your shoulder is any reminder.

“I can't do that. I need the leverage.”

“How about a sign of good faith? Send out the women and children and I'll see what I can do.”

You watch as the King takes the phone away from his mouth. You can vaguely hear him update the Queen, but she’s not having it. She pulls a child from the lineup and your lower lip disappears between your teeth.

A man, you presume the girl’s father, speaks to the Queen before she shoots him in the abdomen. The King gets back on the line.

“You better send in some more help or more people are gonna die.” He hangs up.

Shit.

+++

“You’re not seriously considering sending an agent in there?” You turn on Hotch and he sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“We don’t have much of a choice. I’m not the authority on-site and with the director pressing Strauss, there’s not much I can do.”

The two of you are alone for the time being, so you’re able to rib him for a second to lighten the tension.

“What’s the point of being unit chief if you can’t lord it over everyone all the time?”

You're rewarded with a shadow of a smile and a snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I lord it over you plenty.”

“Not enough.” Your tone is childish, the words murmured under your breath.

When he walks away, he taps the side of your ass with the back of his hand. If you weren’t in a professional setting, you could mistake it for a promise.

But, Aaron, that would be unprofessional!

You turn to look at him and just catch his wink as he hops up the steps behind Strauss.

+++

With Garcia’s magic and Aaron’s genius, you figure out that the men are related.

While Rossi hops on the next phone call, you help Derek outfit the medic with a bug and a weapon.

“We're sending in the medic now, Chris. Tell Oliver help is on the way.”

Derek nods at the medic and he hops off, heading into the bank. You jog over to the trailer only to find a humorously horrified look on Strauss’s face.

“Is she…”

You get closer, looking up at the monitor.

“...putting on lipstick?”

You scoff. “She’s vain. Only contributes to a profile of vanity and narcissism. She likes to be seen - this is a game for her.”

You jog back out before Strauss can respond, taking your place between Aaron and Derek.

“Green. You gotta go. Green. Go,” Derek says into his mic.

The agent-turned-medic makes a move and immediately gets a shot between the eyes for his trouble. Your hand files over your mouth and Derek ducks away, taking a second.

Well, that couldn’t have been any worse.

You look at Aaron, still staring at the screen, beside you. He’s thinking the same thing.

+++

Derek walks up to you, kevlar and sunglasses firmly in place. “Tactical's been deployed, snipers are moving into position.”

At your questioning look, Strauss clarifies. “The Director's ordered a full tactical assault.”

The look doesn’t leave your face. “His last orders cost us an agent.”

Radio transmissions fly one ear and out the other, not to mention the flurry of activity around the negotiation tent. Before Strauss can reply, Will’s call shoots past you to Aaron.

“SWAT's getting itchy fingers.”

Aaron turns, covering his comm mic at his chest. “You remind SWAT that bank robberies are federal jurisdiction. No one fires until they're ordered to.”

“Right.”

Will disappears and you suppress a little pleased shudder. Aaron’s very much in control now and it is doing things to your body that are better suited for, well, anywhere else. You tighten the velcro across your chest as if to compress another rush of… nothing useful.

Aaron turns back to you, Dave, Derek, and Strauss. “All right, when the crossfire starts, what's gonna happen to the hostages caught in the middle?”

The question is a trap, and Dave doubles down. “That's the wrong call, Erin, and you know it.”

Strauss falters for a minute, leveling with the rest of you. “It's not my call.”

Aaron doesn’t let up. “You're here and you're in charge.” His tone is sharper than yours would be in the same situation, but you’re nearly fifteen years younger and a whole four steps down on the totem pole.

Not for the first time, a rush of affection and gratitude for him crests over your in a wave and you have to look away, taking a deep breath to collect yourself. When you look back, he’s watching you.

I’m okay.

He nods as Erin speaks again.

“So you want me to disobey the Director?” Erin sounds dubious, at best.

Dave responds quickly. “Yes.”

Aaron amends, and if the situation wasn’t so tense his correction would almost be funny. “No. I just want you to buy us a little time.” He pauses, wavering for a second as he rephrases. “Don't be quite so efficient.”

You’re never surprised by Aaron’s political savvy, but it is a nice reminder that he can run circles around every bureaucrat in the district if given the chance.

“Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast.”

+++

“It’s an impossible ask, Dave. You know JJ will never go for it.”

“It’s not up to JJ.” Aaron’s voice approaches from behind you. “It’s the director’s call, but mine first.”

He comes to rest beside you as Dave leaves the two of you alone.

“What are you gonna do?” You look at Aaron, finding his eyes trained on the monitor, arms crossed over his chest.

He sighs. “If it was you he asked for...”

You bump his shoulder. “What, not interested in feeding me to serial killers today?”

It’s a loaded joke, especially for the two of you, but after Emily, you’re past such things. If the situation were reversed, Haley would never stop giving you hell for getting serial-killed the way she did. It’s only fair to return the favor.

“Over my dead body, baby.” He reaches down to squeeze your hand for a second before letting you go. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Stay here.”

+++

You can hear JJ’s anguished shouts from here, beside Dave and the phone.

Derek has a good enough hold on her, Emily and Aaron protecting him from JJ’s wild elbows. She’s beside herself but eventually breaks free and sprints back toward the trailer. You turn to follow her, just in time to hear a gunshot.

Will.

+++

You’re all gathered in the trailer as JJ asks the same questions over and over again. Garcia, just like the first time, doesn’t have any answers.

The static on the monitors is nearly deafening in its silence.

JJ looks at you for a moment and takes a shaky breath before looking at Hotch. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her voice is broken when she speaks. “Aaron.”

You know he’s never been able to deny her anything. In the entire time you’ve known him, it’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed.

His eyes don’t budge from hers. “We’re going in.”

+++

You press the heels of your hands to your eyes, trying to stem the stinging from the heat and debris. Your ears ring and you’ve got a scrape on your chin from where you face-planted into the asphalt.

Eventually, you remove your hands and open your eyes to the early summer sunshine. Your bias is clear enough - Aaron’s the first one you look for and the first one you find.

He’s looking a little dazed and more than a little ruffled, but alive.

Ignoring the whine in your ears and swiping some blood off your face, you jog over to him, taking stock of him from head to toe. “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and you realize he probably can’t hear you. An image of Kate reaching for you and the smell of blood flashes into your head, but you push it away.

His ear…

“Aaron?” You lay a hand on his shoulder and he startles a little, meeting your eyes and coming back to himself all at once.

He puts his hands on your shoulders, tipping your jaw up with one finger to examine your chin. “You’re hurt.”

“Honey, I’m fine. Your ear…” You follow a small trickle of blood up the side of his neck, rounding him to get a better look. Just as you’d feared, his bad ear is bleeding again.

He waves off your concern and taps his comm mic, calling for support in quick, clear soundbites. You snag the back of his vest before he can get too far away from you.

“As soon as you’re done with that, please get it looked at.”

With a sigh, he nods and gestures to your chin. “I will if you do.”

You roll your eyes.

“Where’s Emily?” You hear Morgan ask JJ as they get their bearings around you.

With a start, you follow them into the building, attached to a couple of SWAT agents. You know Aaron will get after you for going in before everything’s cleared by bomb squad, but you can’t keep still.

The heartache you feel for JJ supersedes anything else going on in your head. It’s something that plagues you all the time - the both of you doing this job. Losing Aaron in the field is a stark reality you can hardly consider at any point, especially when evidence of its reality is right in front of you.

+++

Aaron can’t help himself - he pulls you close after you’re both released by the paramedics, pressing a kiss to your head. It’s almost desperate as he leans back and pulls your collar from your vest, his hands smoothing over your shoulders.

“I need to debrief SWAT and first responders - can you stay with Dave and help with the media?”

“Okay. Let me know if you need any extra hands - I’ll send ‘em right over.”

He smiles at you, soft, small, and affectionate. “Thank you.”

+++

You pull your phone from your pocket.

She picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Jess.”

“Hey.” She pauses. “You okay?”

With a shaky sigh, you reply. “Yeah. I’m fine. Aaron’s fine.”

“I heard about the explosion. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, we’re fine. Just...Just stay out of the city.” After another breath. “Is Jack okay?”

She laughs a little. “Yeah. He’s fine. He’s a little anxious but I turned off the TV and we’re headed out to the park for a little while.”

“Good.” You look over at Aaron, who holds your eyes for a second before returning to his EMS strategy huddle.

“Be safe and come home to us soon, okay?”

“Yeah. We will. We love you. Tell Jack we -”

“ - Of course.”

+++

You follow Spencer through the debris once you’re done handling the media storm with Dave. Picking through the rubble, searching for something - anything - but not finding much.

Derek’s voice echoes through the ruined, cavernous space that used to be the main lobby. “Everything they've said and done was for a reason. But what doesn't make any sense is she switched the negotiation demand. Chris wanted to go to Switzerland. She changed it to Chad.”

“They also requested a private plane,” you note, “but no mention of a pilot.”

Spencer stops, and you almost run into him. Emily stops as well, looking back at the pair of you as Spencer organizes his thoughts. When he’s ready to speak, he says, “Guys, if you think about it, even the dates mean something. In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And now this in 2012.”

Good thought. But then again, when is one of Spencer’s thoughts bad?

It’s a decent enough question, and you run the gamut of all the surprising and absurd things Spencer’s said in your presence over the years. One in particular comes to mind.

Evil twin, eviler twin.

You hold back a little laugh, despite the harrowing circumstances.

Yeah, that one was pretty bad.

“Okay.” Derek grabs your attention again. “So, is it a coincidence that those are all election years and they attacked D.C.? Maybe this is a political statement.”

Emily’s eyes are stuck on something on the ground, but you’re not sure if it’s what she’s really looking at. “No. It's more personal than that. It's their story.”

Derek’s brow pinches. “What?”

“All of the details are a part of their story.”

She starts to leave through one of the shattered windows and you follow her back to the trailer, Spencer and Derek not far behind. She hops up the steps and you take your place beside Aaron once you’re all inside. It’s much cozier in here, with eight of you.

Spencer fills the rest of the team in on your conversation inside. Unsurprisingly, it’s rote - read like a cold script.

Emily picks up when he’s done. “Their timeline suggests they were both destructive before they met.”

“So we're talking about ex-military turning on their country.” Strauss looks and sounds skeptical, but you can’t blame her. In American culture, it’s rather incongruous.

Now who sounds like Spencer?

“It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised no matter what the nationality. And if he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them.”

“So you're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08.” Aaron’s voice isn’t skeptical - more probing. You can see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” Spencer says. “And one or both of them are pilots.”

“So if Garcia concentrates on that region,” Emily points to an area on a map, lit up on the monitor, “specifically weapons running in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find their paths crossed.”

Penelope types furiously for a moment, her fingers flying over the keys. “Okay, multiple entries into Libya for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name.”

“Well, because she had aliases. It's the only way to stay a ghost.”

Looks like Emily’s Interpol knowledge is coming in handy.

She continues. “Here's the thing - they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe of them, they will celebrate themselves and their connection.” She turns to Penelope, a thought sparking behind her eyes. “Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?”

“Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss.” Penelope types for a moment and you lean forward, watching her work. “But this news is not. Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08.”

Aaron speaks from beside you. He’s a little closer than you thought, and it startles you a little.

In fairness, you’re still jumpy from the explosion.

“Where were the most casualties?”

“At a church-- no, no, a train. Yep.”

Morgan squints at the photos of the hulled-out building. “Semtex and C-4?”

Penelope nods while Aaron turns toward Strauss. “Are trains still arriving at Union Station?”

“Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in.” There’s a moment where she almost looks panicked, but collects herself as the rest of you gear up to leave.

Emily exhales down her nose. “That’s why they needed Will.”

+++

Aaron drives impossibly fast through the district. You sit in the back seat with Emily, holding onto the handles above the door for dear life.

You’ve never flashed your badge so many times in such a short period. Aaron tucked his badge into a strap of his vest, just to save time, but still has his credentials locked between his fingers as he drives. If you didn’t trust him so much, it would freak you out a little.

+++

The comm in your ear crackles as Emily speaks. “I found Will.”

“Is he mobile?” Aaron’s voice comes both from beside you and your comm - it’s a little disorienting, but you push through.

“Negative. He's got 6 transmitters on him and this whole place is gonna blow.”

There’s hardly a hesitation in Aaron’s steps as he processes the information. “All right, where are you? I'm on my way.”

He’d like to think he’s made of steel.

Sometimes he is.

“No,” Emily asserts. “You gotta get everyone out. Is the bomb squad here yet?”

“They're 3 minutes away.”

“Copy.” She sounds a little disappointed, or maybe frustrated, but doesn’t say anything else.

He turns back to you, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you leading evacuation. Get out of here.”

Tears prick at your eyes and honestly, this is the first moment you’ve really been afraid. Existentially afraid. Afraid of walking out of this train station and leaving Aaron and Emily and Will to blow up. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yep. Go.” He tries to push you away, but you resist.

“Promise?”

His brown eyes soften as his mouth presses into a thin line. “Can’t. I love you. Get outta here.”

You bounce on your toes for a second, acutely aware you’re wasting valuable time, before yanking him forward to kiss his cheek before you sprint away from him, shouting instructions to the panicked crowd as you go.

+++

You catch up with Derek, racing to catch your suspect. He corners him in an alley but can’t quite overpower him. You reach for your sidearm, but by the time you take aim, Downs is already on the ground, a gunshot ringing through the air.

Startled, you turn over your shoulder to find Aaron still staring down the sight of his Glock.

Could take an eye out, with that thing.

You sigh and holster your weapon. Derek looks plenty dazed and you don’t blame him. It’s not often he’s on the receiving end of a near-miss in close combat. He looks over your shoulder and you can see something pass between him and Aaron.

Maybe one day, Derek will know how much Aaron loves and respects him.

You watch Derek shake it off and stumble as he attempts to rise to his feet.

Today is not that day.

Coming to your senses, you trot forward and help him to his feet, brushing wayward asphalt off of him. You turn back to Aaron. “Everything alright?”

He ignores you, pressing the mic at his chest as he begins to run back toward the station. “Prentiss, what’s your status?”

+++

Seeing Will and Emily leave the building in one piece is a relief. You meet Aaron’s gaze and his eyes are exhausted. The gears in his head still whir. He’s still in game-mode, and it’s a good thing.

With the logistical nightmare of two bomb threats in one day, there’s a lot of work ahead of you.

+++

You swing back and forth in your desk chair, brain completely numb from the paperwork. It’s been a long day, and you’ve been up since three this morning, what with your flight back from California. You’re certain you’ve had longer days than this one, but you’re approaching twenty-one hours without sleep and it feels worse than you remember.

What were we planning to do today?

A bike ride and museum day with Jack seems impossibly long ago. Last week, maybe.

Derek and Emily sit on their desks, attempting to keep a conversation going without much luck.

They were house-hunting this morning.

Penelope slowly descends the stairs as Spencer turns in his seat. “The convention’s still happening tomorrow if you want to go.”

They were at a convention this morning.

Everyone had lives this morning. Weird.

She makes an uncertain noise. “That whole city-on-the-brink-of-destruction thing kinda took the wind out of my sails, you know?”

You look up at her as she takes her place beside Spencer. “It’ll get you every time.”

“You gotta watch out for that,” Emily adds. It makes you smile a little.

Derek looks a little less amused, reminding Emily they’ll have to finish the inspection another time. Between Spencer and Penelope, Emily cops to a crack in the foundation of her almost-home.

“That does not sound good,” Penelope says. You can’t help but agree.

There’s a weird look on Derek’s face, but you ignore it in favor of Strauss’s descent on the stairs.

“Our unsub,” she says, “is Izzy Rogers. She'll be charged with multiple counts domestically, and our international counterparts will have their turn with her. She will never see the light of day.” A little smile graces her lips.

You realize with the tiniest of laughs (really - it’s a one on the Aaron Hotchner scale of laugher, which means it’s hardly noticeable to the naked eye) that you don’t hate her or even dislike her as much as you used to. Maybe, you even want her around.

Don’t push it.

“I just thought you'd like to know that.”

The five of you murmur something that sounds like, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pulls Derek, probably to kick his ass for something or another and send herself back on your shit list.

That’s a problem for another time.

You take Izzy Rogers’s file from Emily, looking over an impressive rap sheet. You’re happy for a few things.

The first - that Aaron’s not a federal prosecutor anymore. This’ll be a case for the ages.

The second - you’ll never have to think about her again.

The third - you’re not sure. You’re sleep-deprived. It’ll come to you.

She cost me my precious eight hours and I’ll never forgive her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aaron leave his office. You set the file down and look up at him, halfway-hoping for once he’ll tell you to go home without him.

“Dave wants to know if everyone is free tomorrow night.”

Without any inflection at all, you reply. “We better not be doing anything tomorrow night.”

“Well,” Derek says, interrupting Emily’s snort. “If he’s buying, then I’m definitely in.”

Emily, Spencer, and Penelope jump onto Derek’s conditional acceptance and a rare smile pulls at Aaron’s face, his dimples on full display.

“Hear that? We’re in.”

+++

When you get home, Aaron all-but carries you to bed. With the tenderest of hands, he removes your shoes and socks, unbuttons your pants, slides them down your legs, and throws them in the laundry basket.

You’re practically wilting where you sit, feeling more and more like a sleepy toddler by the minute.

Aaron unbuttons your shirt and slips it off your shoulders, kissing each cheek in turn. “I’ll start a shower.”

You move to protest, but he strips and that mostly shuts you up. He starts the water before he returns to your side.

“I just want to sleep, Aar. Please.”

“Baby,” he says, a fond little pleading note in his tone. “We just changed the sheets. Do you really want to get semtex all over them?”

With a huff - “No.”

He smiles and helps you to your feet. “Didn’t think so.”

You’re so tired, it doesn't even cross your mind to take advantage of the shared shower or his lack of clothes. By the time he dries you off, tucks you in, and locks the bedroom door to ward off the over-eager six-year-old down the hall, you’re asleep.

His own exhaustion pulling at him, he doesn’t have the time or energy to cherish how peaceful, safe, and warm you look. He just draws you close to him until he can feel your heartbeat.

Sleep takes him rapidly after that.

+++

As Will and JJ exchange their vows, you tuck further into Aaron’s arms. His whisper floats past your ear, barely audible. “Wanna do that sometime?”

“What? Get married?” Your voice is just as quiet.

“Mhmm.”

“Only if it’s you.”

There’s a kiss pressed to your temple with a smile behind it. “I think I can make that happen.”

You turn your head to the side to keep your snark from carrying. “Please don’t propose to me right now. This weekend’s been long enough.”

Derek kicks the side of your foot from where he stands beside you, unable to hear the conversation but knowing you both well enough to keep you from tumbling down the rabbit hole of distraction.

Aaron presses another kiss to your temple. “I love you.” You feel it rather than hear it.

You pick up one of his hands and kiss the back of it. You don’t need to say anything.

+++

Aaron holds you close as you dance together, surrounded by your family. JJ and Will sway back and forth nearby, wrapped entirely in each other. Erin and Dave have been surprisingly brave, dancing and laughing quietly together throughout the evening.

As nice as it was to just have something for the two of you, sharing your love with your family has its own set of perks. You don’t have to hide anymore or justify your pigheaded protection of the other.

You can just… be.

+++

Eventually, Dave calls all the “...fortunately unmarried individuals to the dance floor,” and refuses to let anyone slip through the cracks.

When Aaron hangs back, drink in-hand and a little smile on his face, Dave calls him out. “Divorcés and widowers, too, c’mon.” He pauses, finding another tactic when Aaron doesn’t move. “If you’re both, you get extra points!”

Aaron rolls his eyes and you look around, finding an inappropriate amount of humor in JJ’s confused relatives. You can’t help but bark a loud laugh when you see how hard Derek’s trying to keep his mirth at bay.

Too soon for the dead wife jokes? He seems to ask. Can I laugh?

Something in your eyes gives him tacit permission and he nearly blinds you with his smile.

When Dave’s tricks fall short, you do your best to pull Aaron from the sideline with your best set of bedroom eyes. He courageously resists, so you give up and settle next to Anderson. “What do you think Dave’s come up with, this time?”

“God only knows.”

Anderson, like the rest of you, knows that Dave’s hosting abilities know no bounds.

“Because so many of you are joyfully unmarried, the newlyweds wanted to make sure there was someone else to suffer the slings and arrows of matrimony with them in the near future. Thus,” he opens his arm to JJ, who appears with her bouquet and a smile, “the bouquet toss will be an equal-opportunity event.”

With a laugh and a shake of your head, you prepare to duck out of the way.

You look over at Aaron. This is ridiculous.

He only shakes his head, hiding his smile behind his drink. And yet…

He leaves the rest of the implication unsaid, but you flip him off for good measure. Your exchange must have taken longer than you thought because before you know it, you have a face full of white roses. It’s over.

You pull the flowers from your face and level JJ with a glare across the dance floor. “Really?”

She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “I turned my back and everything.”

There are whoops and hollers from your team and you can only roll your eyes. Derek and Will strong-arm Aaron onto the dance floor (you know he let them - if he really wanted to avoid you, they wouldn’t be able to move him an inch), where you’re both cajoled into a kiss and a photo. Penelope’s on the other side of the camera, grinning from ear to ear.

She waves at Aaron over the camera. “Smile for real, damn you!”

She amends, adding, “Sir,” for good measure. It has its intended effect and she’s rewarded with a rare, bright laugh from her unit chief.

Absurd traditions aside, you’d be lying if said you stopped smiling even once.

+++

As the party settles, some couples stay out on the dance floor, sedately twirling and swaying to the music that continues to play across the yard.

You and Aaron have relaxed significantly since the Great Bouquet Debacle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. You’re sitting across his lap, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, with one of his arms wrapped around your middle and the other draped over your knees - the picture of relaxation.

Penelope, Derek, Emily, and Will have taken up residence on the other side of the dance floor, their heads close together and voices low.

Aaron’s eyes slide over them as he watches the room, scanning out of habit. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

You lean further into him as four pairs of eyes flicker over to you before returning to their huddle. “Us, probably.”

He hums, understanding and pensive. “Probably our sex life, right?”

“Probably,” you sigh, playing at boredom. He covers your hand with one of his and you play with his fingers - lacing, unlacing, kissing his knuckles.

It’s nice to feel safe, comfortable enough to love each other where curious eyes can see you.

You can feel his smile against your forehead as he presses a kiss between your brows.

“I mean,” you continue, “there is a lot to talk about.”

He shrugs, adjusting his arm where it lays across your legs to keep you both comfortable in the seat you share. “That’s true enough. Though, I can’t imagine any of their projections being right.”

+++

“I bet they’re into like…tantric sex. Like hours and hours and hours you know?” Penelope says, conspiracy the top note in her tone.

Derek looks at her and she backtracks, only a little on the defensive.

“What? Spencer’s talked to me about it before and I...read.”

He rolls his eyes, but Emily spares Penelope from any further interrogation.

“I could see that.” She watches the way your fingers wander over Aaron’s bare forearm, playing with the ridges of his watch, the way his thumb absent-mindedly draws small circles on your outer thigh. “Yeah, actually I think that’s exactly what happens.”

+++

“What do you think they’ve got so far?”

He plays at boredom. “They’re probably trying to take a guess at anything they can reach - with both of our profiles in Derek’s pocket, he’s going to have the most luck, I think.”

“Really?” You ask. “Not Emily?”

He snorts. “No. She has her mind on other things.”

That holds you up for a second, and you’re not sure if he’s still playing into the bit. “Wait, what do you mean?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later.”

“She’s resigning, isn’t she?” You give up the fun and lay your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

Without thinking, his hand rises to your cheek, affectionately brushing over your cheekbone before dropping back down. “She might be.”

“Did she do that thing where she sighs really big and then looks off to the upper right middle distance?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, just enjoying the low lull of the music and the lights and the sights and smiles of your family.

“Hey.”

You lean back a little and meet Aaron’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“What’s my tell?”

The concern drops out of your face all at once. “You think I’m gonna spill just like that so you can go and change it on me? Not a chance.”

He sighs and his chin tips up in defeat. “So I have one?”

“Of course you do, stupid.” You flick his chest and a laugh rumbles through him. “Everyone does. You know mine, I know yours. You’re gonna have to get over it.”

“So you’ve caught me in lies before?” He asks, not without humor.

“Duh. I’m pretty sure I’ve caught every lie you’ve ever told, but you seemed so proud of yourself that I just let you have it.”

You can almost feel the eye roll. “Really?” He sounds skeptical. “Name one lie you’ve caught me in.”

“Alright.” You count off on your fingers. “You dinged my car door a couple of weeks ago, you definitely didn’t drop the bags at Goodwill, you do know it wasn’t Jack who finished the ice cream in the freezer, you -”

“Okay.” He covers your hands with his and kisses your fingers. “That’s enough. I get it.”

You kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ve caught me in every single lie I’ve ever told, too, huh?”

“Only every once since the day we met. Yours is obvious.”

It’s a trap. You don’t take it. “Hmm. That’s convenient.”

“Isn’t it?”

You lean back to look at him. “You’re a shit, you know that?”

He nods and raises his eyebrows, a cheeky, close-mouthed smile slowly creeping across his face.

You playfully smack his chest with the back of your hand. “Fucker.”

He says something under his breath and you level him with a look that has him repeating himself.

“I said, you wish.”

You roll your eyes and tuck back into his neck, kissing the skin above his collar. You can feel him shiver and you know you’ve got him. “Not just wish, honey. Know.”

+++

tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @bwbatta @wakatoshislover @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @arthurmorrgans @the-falling-in-the-danger @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos @bispences @thebivirgin

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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chronicallylatetotheparty · 3 years ago

Text

Lucky Charm: Reflekdoll

Summary: Adrien struggles to adapt to his powers as Mister Bug while facing an old villain with a new trick. Will he be able to learn fast enough to save his partner?

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

"Reflektas, start turning the rest of Paris into me!"

Adrien hid behind the overturned car as Reflekta's clones started attacking untransformed civilians. Apparently, Reflekdoll broadcast a signal that brainwashed any copies. "That's new."

"You are Chat Noir, correct?"

Turning, he spotted a red kwami holding a pair of earrings. "Yeah? And that over there is... Ladybug?" Adrien asked as someone who could only be his Lady launched herself at the giant sentimonster. The suit may have been different but the cat ears were a dead giveaway.

"There's been a little mix up with the Miraculous. I'm Tikki, pleased to meet you!" Tikki offered Adrien the earrings which he accepted.

"Well! Tikki, transforme-moi!"

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

Marinette dodged blast after blast from Reflekdoll.

"Well, my Lady Noire, looks like you're playing the easy part today!"

Lady Noire looked over to see who could only be Chat Noir with her Miraculous. "Not so sure about that!" Placing herself in front of him Lady Noir whirled her staff as a shield, blocking Reflekdoll's beam. "Looks like we'll be taking on two opponents that amplify each other's powers!"

They jumped onto the top of a nearby stone pillar as Reflekdoll attacked again.

"Stay focused, Mister Bug!"

Mister Bug took his yo-yo out and whirled it like he'd seen Ladybug do countless times. "Just my luck. I'm gonna have to capture two akuma instead of one."

"No, one akuma and one amok," Lady Noire corrected.

Reflekta fired her beam into one of the ports onboard. The magic layered by Reflekdoll before it shot a concentrated beam. Mister Bug acted on instinct and tackled Lady Noire out of the way. They rolled to their feet and charged up Reflekdoll as Lady Noire explained what a sentimonster was.

"Would've been nice to know what the Peacock could do before their sentimonsters started showing up!" Mister Bug commented as he launched a kick at said sentimonster to little effect.

"It was on a need-to-know basis!" Lady Noire swung her staff into the sentimonster with similar results.

"I really need to talk with the Guardian about what he considers 'need-to-know'!" Mister Bug leapt back towards the ground with Lady Noire. "Okay, so we need to find Reflekta's akumatized object and the baby monster's amok."

Lady Noire deflected another beam from Reflekdoll. "Can you manage or should we switch back?"

"C'mon! I'm totally capable of doin' it!" Mister Bug smirked.

Lady Noire pulled him out of the way of Reflekdoll's beam and they ran towards the Eiffel Tower. "We need to figure out where the akuma and amok are!"

"Probably the same place as the last time we fought her. In her bracelet!"

They jumped onto the tower itself and used the iron structure to shield themselves. "Maybe. We're gonna have to check that!"

"If I could just get my hands on a mirror I'd be able to reflect her own beam back at her!"

Landing on the first level, Lady Noire turned to look at Mister Bug. "That's not how it works." She crossed her arms. "The Lucky Charm doesn't just give you what you want."

"You ever asked? Watch and learn!" Mister Bug grinned. "Lucky Charm!"

"A mirror!" Oh, Adrien was gonna lord this over her so much!

"Beginners luck," Lady Noire declared. Chat Noir was gonna be insufferable about this she could feel it.

"You're just jealous of my mastery!" Mister Bug teased.

A loud banging interrupted them and they looked down to see Reflekdoll climbing the tower. Reflekta steering with one hand and shooting her much smaller lasers through the window eyes with the other.

Mister Bug held out his mirror and reflected one of them back at her. Bullseye!

Reflekdoll shot at them with its big beam.

"Very effective, Mister Bug."

"Hey, it worked didn't it?"

Lady Noire sighed in exasperation. "May I remind you that the Lucky Charm doesn't just give you an object to defeat the villain with-"

"I thought that's exactly what it does?"

"You actually have to figure out exactly how to use it!" Lady Noire poked him in the forehead. "Using your head!"

Reflekdoll reached there level and started firing. Mister Bug jumping for cover while Lady Noire blocked its attack with her staff. "Since you wasted your Lucky Charm. I guess that means it's my turn, buggaboy! Watch and learn! Cataclysm!"

Lady Noire leapt at the sentimonster and-

Her body was pulled out of the way of Reflekdoll's beam just in time. Mister Bug unwinding his yo-yo none too gently. "What was that about using your head? May I remind you that Cataclysm needs a physical medium to work properly! If that sentimonster is made outa magic I doubt it'll do what you want!"

Lady Noire held the Cataclysm as close as she could without actually touching it. "Well, what do you suggest?"

Mister Bug pulled her out of the way of another beam. "Uh... I... Knock her back to ground level while I come up with something?" Adrien smiled with the most conviction he could muster.

Lady Noire groaned. "Think fast!" And rushed out. Dodging Reflekdoll's attack she extended her baton and struck the sentimonster with her full momentum. Reflekdoll crashing back down to earth.

Taking advantage of Lady Noire's distraction Mister Bug glanced around from his high vantage point. Trying to spot anything that would spark an epiphany like Ladybug. "Okay, I admit it!" he cried out, shoulders slumping, "Being Chat Noir is way more fun."

Lady Noire leapt around the sentimonster and struck at its body. The Black Cat giving her a bit more agility than she was used to. Very handy.

Mister Bug added a swing of his yo-yo to one of her attacks. Reflekdoll stumbling with their combined force.

Lady Noire landed beside him. "What have you got?"

"Ah," Mister Bug rubbed the back of his neck. "About that..."

She stared at him. "Seriously!?"

"Well, I'm sorry! Some of us are just slow learn-"

"LOOK OUT!"

Lady Noire didn't think. She just acted. Mister Bug was the only one who could purify the akuma and he needed to keep going. She pushed Mister Bug out of the way as one of Reflekta's clones attacked... Just as Reflekdoll fired its beam.

"My Lady!" Mister Bug cried out.

Lady Noire stood immobile as a Reflekta copy.

"Yes! Now get bug boy's Miraculous!" The original Reflekta ordered.

Springing to life, the Reflekta that used to be Lady Noire aimed her bracelet and fired.

Mister Bug whirled his yo-yo as a shield and leapt to the nearest roof.

"You won't get away from me!" Reflekta called after him as he fled for cover.

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

Adrien leaned against the wall of his hiding place. Breathing deeply, heart hammering in his chest. "Okay. It's okay. Ladybug does this all the time! What would Ladybug do? What would Ladybug do?"

The Ladybug earrings beeped insistently.

"This is fine!" Adrien announced as he detransformed.

Tikki falling into Adrien's palms as he fell to his knees.

"This isn't fine! Tikki, I can't do this! I'm no Ladybug! We should've switched back when she said! I-" Adrien's chest constricted and he forced his breath to slow.

"She trusted you enough to keep going," Tikki said weakly.

Her state bringing Adrien out of his head. "You need food."

Tikki hovered closer to his face, looking him in the eye. "No two of my Ladybug's have ever been exactly alike. Some are slower learners than others. I trust you, too."

Adrien looked away, shoulders hunching. "But I messed up."

"Remember Stoneheart?" Tikki prompted. "Ma- Ladybug messed up too. But you still believed in her." She placed a paw on his cheek. "Believe in yourself now."

Adrien's gaze came back to her.

"Don't ask what Ladybug would do. Ask yourself: what would Adrien do?"

Steeling his resolve Adrien nodded, rising to his feet and cupping Tikki in his palms. "First things first," he inched closer to the alleyway's entrance. The overturned car with his stash of Camembert a short sprint away. "Let's get you recharged."

A gaggle of Reflekta clones chased a group of civilians past him. The people hit turning into more copies and standing still until the akuma villain's voice came booming over the city. The new clones springing to life so they could follow her orders.

They lit up in Adrien's mind and his head shot back to the sentimonster in the distance. Its beam lighting up too.

Adrien gazed down at Tikki and grinned. "I've got an idea."

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

"Lucky Charm!"

A mirror fell into Mister Bug's hands. "Wow, twice in a row. Lucky me," Adrien deadpanned as he tied it to his arm like a shield using his yo-yo. The plan was a laughably simple two step process.

Step One: Get shot.

"Hey, Reflekta!" he hollered from a rooftop at convenient shooting hight. "Don't you know that pink frills are so last season?"

"Once I turn the whole world into Reflektas it'll be the only season!" She fired into Reflekdoll's port which concentrated her energy into a stronger blast.

Just as planned. Mister Bug braced his feet and held his Lucky Charm directly in front of him. "Here we go!"

The sentimonster fired.

Step Two: Shoot Reflekta with her own sentimonster's magic.

The beam reflected off Mister Bug's mirror and perfectly into the round eye windows. Blasting Reflekta dead center.

Adrien held his position for a moment, peaking past his makeshift shield. Reflekta and Reflekdoll stood still. Waiting for orders from... themselves. The enhanced magic dependent on the sentimonster and by extension whoever was driving it.

"Yes!" Mister Bug raised both fists. "Now just a little pest control and we can all get on with our day!"

Finding and purifying the akuma and amok was easy when he wasn't being shot at. Grabbing Juleka as the sentimonster vanished and setting her down on the ground.

Adrien looked at Mister Bug's reflection in his mirror... "I've always wanted to do this." And tossed his Lucky Charm into the air. "Miraculous Mister Bug!"

As the ladybug's restored Paris he spotted a familiar black suit. Adrien ran for her.

"Mister Bug? What- OOF!" Lady Noire stumbled as her partner barreled into her and tried to squeeze all the air out of her lungs. Once she could breathe Marinette wrapped her arms around him and patted his back. "You did good, little bug."

Adrien just held her for a moment. She was okay. He'd saved her. She was okay.

Then his earrings beeped.

Breaking the hug, Mister Bug jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Ah, we should split."

"Yeah..." Lady Noire readied to extend her baton. "... I think I finally get why you're so protective."

Mister Bug smiled. "And I get why you're so focused all the time."

He offered a fist bump and she accepted. Both heroes leaping in opposite directions.

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

"Tikki!" Marinette cradled her friend to her chest.

"Marinette!"

"I can't believe how much Chat trusts me... Knowing you might have to do that again? I don't think I could handle it."

"He's your Chat Noir for a reason, Marinette," Tikki agreed.

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

"Fighting by yourself is horrible, Plagg! I don't know how Ladybug does it." Adrien held him tight. Deciding never to let his Miraculous out of his sight again.

"She's got you most of the time, doesn't she? You're supposed to support each other, ain't ya?"

"Yeah. You're right..."

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

"... Well, one things for sure, Tikki." Marinette gazed off in the direction Plagg flew towards.

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

"She definitely-"

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

"He definitely-"

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

"-got the short straw."

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

Yes, this is technically the last prompt... But it's already written and I'm impatient.

@adrienaugust

#adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #tikki #ml fanfic #reflekdoll #ml rewrite #adrienaugust #adrienaugreste #kwami swap #mister bug #lady noire

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draconic-ichor · 3 years ago

Text

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 23: Desperate Passions

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, oral sex, penetrative sex, nipple play, nipple piercings, scars/stitches, fingering

Summary: Juniper is fully healed and ready to get back to one of their favorite hobbies!

Feedback appreciated. 18+. This is a smut heavy chapter

“What are we having tonight, love?” Heisenberg asked, sitting back in the wooden chair. He had returned from working to find her over the stove, a simmering pot filling the apartment with a delicate fragrance.

“Pilaf.” She answered sweetly.

“Ah…alright.” Heisenberg nodded, her answer not making anything more clear to him.

He cut open a cigar, lighting it and bringing it to his lips as he watched her.

She pulled two deep plates out of the cabinet, looking towards him, “Get anything exciting made today?”

He made a prideful rumble, speaking through the cigar, “Mhm. The Soldat Zwei is almost finished. Give the bastard one, maybe two, good days of work and he should be up.”

“They are the ones with two drills right?”

“Correct. Moved the reactor core to the back as well.”

“When are you starting the….the Pan..pan?” She couldn’t find the words, placing a glass of water and silverware on the table.

“The Panzer?”

“Yea that one! They looked big.”

“Oh, sweetheart, it will be.” He gave a devilish smile, “Gotta wait till I get a bastard built like a shit brick house for that one.”

“Like Sturm?” She scooped food into the deep plates.

“Unfortunately…yes.” He frowned, that creature still brought him nothing but grief.

Juniper placed a plate before him, before taking a seat with her own.

Fuck me…what is this?

Heisenberg gulped looking at the meal. It was a pile of rice with chicken, carrots, mushrooms and herbs mixed in. It smelled normal and appetizing but left much to be desired to the eyes.

Juniper took a bite, looking at him through narrow eyes.

“Love, did you make bread as well?” He asked hopefully.

“No, there’s rice in here.” She pointed her fork at him, “And vegetables. Eat it.”

He made a little grumble, tucking into his food. It tasted good, the rice made with the broth from the chicken and the herbs giving it a homely taste.

…Thank god.

Heisenberg thought, mercifully, as he started eating with more gusto. Juniper loved to cook, and loved seeing him eat what she made even more. But her passion for the craft was almost matched with her desire to strive to make each meal healthy. Even if it meant throwing in things that tasted like death to pack more nutrients into every meal.

Heisenberg didn’t know if it was her trying to curb his lack of anything healthy or some Devine force punishing him for his terrible daily diet for decades. In any case, it was a small price to pay for her happiness.

He finished his plate, even going back for a second. On the way back to his seat he paused, giving Juniper a soft pat on top of her head with his free hand. She beamed up at him.

They spoke more of his upcoming Soldat plans over dinner. Heisenberg explained how the Panzers should be immune to most types of damage, save for heavier explosions. They would be risky to produce and time consuming but a good last line of defense.

“Will all the armor put stress on the core?” Juniper asked.

He nodded, “I’ll have to use the bigger exhaust port like on Sturm but take in the energy production per energy draw to the multiple drills.”

“So they don’t overheat?”

“Precisely. I don’t want them spitting fire like the big boy.” Heisenberg pointed out.

After Juniper cleaned up the mess from dinner, Heisenberg ushered her into the bathroom. She followed him, used to this routine, she pulled her dress off and sat on the sink. Heisenberg leaned on his palms against the counter on either side of her, dipping in to give her a kiss. She deepened the contact, hands finding the sleeves of his button up shirt.

He gave a happy little rumble, pulling away enough to inspect her incision. She sat still, waiting as he looked her over with a critical eye. The infection was completely gone, the tissue a healthy healing pink.

“I can probably remove the stitches, if you’d like.” He concluded.

“Please.” She almost begged, “They itch.”

He stood, chuckling, “Itching is good, means it’s healing.”

He retrieved a sharp pair of scissors, pouring a bit of peroxide over the blades before kneeling before her once more. With careful cuts he snipped through the stitches, pulling them free with deft fingers.

He tossed them away one by one into the trash can. Juniper watched him with big eyes.

“Will it scar?” Juniper asked quietly.

“Afraid so, Darling.” Heisenberg frowned.

Her eyes looked glassy, glancing over the pinkish new tissue.

Heisenberg took her face in his hands, lifting her chin up to meet his gaze. She wilted a bit.

"What's up?" He asked, concern in his gaze.

"Hmm…" She almost didn't answer, looking away, "I don’t want you to think I’m ugly…I have really bad scars…”

“Are you fucking serious.” Heisenberg’s lips were a fine line, “Look at me.”

She met his eyes, him correcting her, “No look at all of me. Look at all the shit my body has been through.”

Her eyes wavered, scanning him over. He was covered in scars, his skin was a patchwork of pearlescent lattice, even his face sporting a few.

“I am a scarred, fucked up old man.” He said plainly, “You are so fucking beautiful. A few scars can’t change that.”

Her eyes watered, cheeks growing rosey.

His face split with a grin, “Have I ever hesitated to bend your ass over every flat surface in this factory?”

“…no.” She mumbled.

“Don’t you even start to think I don’t find you sexy as all hell, ok love?”

“Mmmm.”

“What?”

“You haven’t bent me over anything in months.” Juniper pouted in his hands.

Heisenberg looked at her a moment before throwing back his head and barking out with laughter.

“You were healing!” He bared his teeth playfully, “But you’re all fixed up now, how about I show you how much you drive me fucking wild?”

Juniper smiled, nuzzling into his cupped hands, “Please, master?”

“Oh Honey.” He almost purred, “Keep that up and you’ll be bedridden again.”

They made their way back to the bedroom, Heisenberg catching her up in a messy kiss. While she was distracted he removed the rest of her clothing, backing her up until her calves touched the bed.

He lightly pushed her back, Juniper making a little ‘oof’ as she hit the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows, smiling as Heisenberg fell to his knees before her.

He didn’t dive straight into her heat like she expected, instead pulling her by the ankles closer to the edge.

His eyes were dark and hungry as he dipped his head in to drop rough kisses up the length of her leg. Juniper shivered at the heat of his mouth as he trailed ever closer to the place she wanted him desperately.

His lips lingered on the softness of her inner thigh, sucking a dark blotch there. He pulled free with a wet pop, meeting her gaze. She was already flushed.

“I’m going to have to re-mark my claim on you.” He almost purred the words.

“Make me yours in every way.” She spoke sweetly.

“I plan to.” He promised, kissing upwards.

He dropped a kiss just above her clit, smiling when her breath hitched. She made a little sound of want when he pulled away, thrusting her hips up in an effort to urge him back. Heisenberg growled as his large hands found her legs, pushing her down against the bed.

Juniper whimpered, watching him move higher.

He kissed along her scar, eyes flicking up to meet hers. The new tissue was sensitive under his lips, his beard making her skin prickle.

“Fucking perfect.” He concluded when he covered its length, his hands forcing her thighs more apart, “Every part.”

“…stop.” Juniper’s cheeks reddened further.

“Oh no.” He gave a devilish smile, “No mercy for you my little wifey.”

She gave a little mewl at his tone, her core clenching air.

“I was looking forward to dessert all night.” His face split with a mirthful grin.

“Then come get it!” She bared her teeth a bit playfully

Heisenberg dove into her sex, eating her like a starving man. He was messy and forceful, causing her to melt in seconds. He growled into her flesh, already feeling her tighten under him. He pulled away, scoring his thumb over her clit as he licked slick from his lips, “Already such a damn mess for me.”

“It’s…it’s been a w-while.” She spoke between pants.

“Too long.” He agreed, going back in.

He made sure to pull multiple orgasms from her with only his mouth and hands, stopping every so often to trail kisses up her abdomen. She was breathy and blissed out, completely forgetting her earlier self-consciousness.

He stood, giving her a moment of mercy. Juniper watched him, breasts quaking as she regained her breath. Her skin was already glistening with a light sheen of sweat, stray onyx curls stuck to her forehead. Heisenberg slowly removed each layer of clothing, almost making a show of it under her hungry gaze.

Finally kicking off his boxers he crawled onto the bed. The bed creaked under their combined weight as he loomed over her.

Juniper eager hands found him quickly, squeezing the thick ropes of muscle that made his arms.

“Pretty impressive eh?” He smirked cockily.

Her fingers slid upwards, fanning over his chest. She gave him a little devilish look as she found his only nipple piercing.

His breath hitched a bit as she toyed with it; coming almost unglued entirely when her head quickly dipped in to take the metal into her mouth.

The movement was almost too fast for him to react before the sensation rippled through his body. Juniper was spurred on when she saw how his body shivered in response, deepening the contact.

Heisenberg pushed her away, holding her down against the bed with strong hands. He swallowed, “That’s enough of that.”

Juniper licked her lips, the taste of metal and skin on her tongue, “Seemed to like it.”

He ground his teeth a bit, aware of his hard cock. He caught her lips up with his own before she could continue.

He kept her occupied, grouping down her body as he lined himself up. She gasped into his mouth when she felt the weeping tip bump her folds. He pulled away to brace himself over her.

“Fuck, I missed you.” His voice was low and almost wavering as he pushed into her. Juniper’s back arched, moaning as his cock stretched her out deliciously.

Her core was tight from the months without him.

He started pumping into her almost desperately, lifting her legs to hook around his waist. With the better angle he was able to reach deeper, rubbing against her g-spot with every thrust.

She clawed down his back, crying out every time their hips sloppily met together.

The sex was messy and raw, both needing to feel the release of pent up passions. Heisenberg groaned out breathily, hands finding purchase in the mattress to buck into her harder.

He felt her tense under him. “F-Fuck! Come for me Doll. Come on my cock!” He grunted out, moving a hand to her clit. His thumb scored quick circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Juniper buckled under him, sobbing out her release. A surge of slick coated his cock as her cunt clamped down on him.

She felt divine, like liquid velvet around him. Heisenberg became a mess of sounds himself, balls slapping into her ass roughly as he chased his own release.

His hips jolted, bottoming out in her. She felt him pulse as her insides were flooded with hot ropes of come.

She felt extremely full, bits of his release oozing out around his cock.

He settled over her, wanting to stay slotted within her walls. Catching her breath she pulled his face closer, peppering his jaw with kisses.

He gave a little rumble of amusement, letting her fawn over him.

They tangled into one another, the darkness filled with the sounds of their heavy breathes and soft moans. A hunger of the flesh deep in their minds. Words weren’t needed. Their touches, tinged with desperation for an act both had feared would be lost to them, was everything in that moment.

Skin to skin, a heartbeat felt under fingertips. The world outside the bed didn’t exist, the nightmares couldn’t reach them.

Heisenberg pressed his body against Juniper’s, his cock never leaving her. In the soft lulls between rounds of sex he held her close, wanting to feel over every inch of her. She thankfully held onto him, losing track of the hours. He nipped into the soft flesh of her throat, huffing out hotly when he heard her mewl.

He felt her tense under him as he rocked into her afresh. Juniper didn’t know how many rounds or orgasms they shared, the night becoming a blur of pleasure and overstimulation.

Eventually exhaustion overtook her and Juniper fell asleep against his chest. Heisenberg stayed fully inserted inside of her, softly tracing her spinal scar. Their bodies were stuck together with sweat, he could feel every breath and heartbeat of hers.

He let his mind wander to work. With the spring thaw here it would make collecting bodies from the grave easier, but also he would have to be much more on top of watching the village for casualties.

Juniper was his favorite distraction but she was a distraction nonetheless. He wouldn’t force her away, no, she gave him more purpose to strive to escape. She made his hunger to explore the world deeper, he wanted to give her a better life than the factory.

And he would give it to her.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #resident evil #heisenberg smut

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thr-333 · 4 years ago

Text

Drastic Measures- Part 5

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Sweater~

Shoves romance to the side and shoves friendship in your face!!!

Ao3

First< Previous > Next

----------

“Marinette,” Adrien whines as she opens the curtain the second they get back, “Sleep,”

“Just a minute, I want to design Damian something,” Marinette takes up residence at the desk, throwing open her sketchbook, “I will be friends with him!”

“Wasn't he kind of a jerk to you?” Adrien flops onto the bed, Plagg rig after him, "I think we should go back to that point, maybe sleep on it,"

“You were a jerk too~” Marinette sing-songs finishing up a rough sketch of a sweater.

“I was trying to get the gum off your seat!” Adrien slams his hands down.

“Sure you were~”

“Mariiiiiii,” Adrien collapses back into the bed covers, muffling his whining.

“Come on you,” Marinette collects her sketchbook, “Come get material with me,”

“No, it’s time to sleep,”

“It’s midday,”

“Your point?”

"Ok, Plagg 2.0 should I get you some camembert while I'm out too?"

"I'm up!" Adrien sits bolt upright, "Never call me that again,"

Marinette ends up dragging Adrien out of the mansion he pouts as Alfred delivers them into the city she thanks him profusely.

“We were just in the city why didn’t you pick up fabric then?” Adrien walks by her side down the street.

“Because I’m stuck between 2 concepts and I need to see the fabric before going forward,” Marinette bounces along looking through the windows there are quite a few craft shops in the area which suits her just fine.

“Please don’t run off,” Adrien gently holds her sleeve, “Marinette this city…”

“It’s filled with a dark energy,” Marinette agrees, even in this nicer area had something ominous hanging over it, “It’s like it’s seeped into the city’s very bones,”

“And the Akuma aren’t helping things,” A child across the street starts crying and they both instinctively lookout.

“On the plus side at least hawkmoth doesn't send Akuma after every little thing,” Marinette forces herself to relax, moving on as the kids parents comfort them.

“On the downside, he sends them after emotions that are a lot worse,” Adrien follows along into a store as Marinette filters through the shelves.

“Maybe but we can handle this,” Marinette absent-mindedly raises her fist, meeting Adreins, “Do you think I should make something for everyone, you know as a thank you?”

“I haven't gotten them anything,” Adrien takes the armful of fabric Marinette passes him as she brings out her sketchbook to select old designs.

“I’ll handle the making,” Marinette ticks off a vest she thinks with be perfect for Bruce, “And you handle the finances,”

“I stole my father's credit card,” Adrien says with a grin, “He’ll probably find out where I am soon anyway so might as well start using it,”

“In that case,” Marinette pulls out a roll of incredibly expensive fabric, “We also need new phones,”

“And we should go out for lunch,”

“Get our hair done?” Marinette adds, looking at her half hacked off hair “I still need to fix mine from this,”

“I was thinking our room could use a chair?”

“And the bookshelf is looking a bit empty,”

“A nice expensive rug would really liven up the room,”

“Would it be completely inappropriate to get a motorcycle?”

“Yes,” Adrien agrees, “Let's do it,”

They stop to get new phones first, having destroyed their old ones when they ran away. Adrien finds the most expensive restaurant in town, but it's on the far end so they stop to get a motorcycle first.

“I didn’t know you could ride,” Adrien gestures for the waiter in their private room, “Yes can I please have the duck?”

“My Nona taught me,” Marinette sips at the most expensive drink she can legally buy, “I thought you hated duck?”

“Oh I do,” Adrien grins, which drops when his phone starts ringing, “How did he even get this number?”

Marinette looks over his shoulder to see Gabriel trying to call. Adrien purposefully hangs up rolling his eyes.

“We should go do our hair next,” Adrien leans over the table with a manic grin, ”I was thinking of dying it hot pink,”

“Love the concept,” Marinette cringes at the very thought, “But the execution is flawed, you need to dye it a color you actually like not one just to spite your father otherwise he's still just controlling your life, just in a different way,”

“You're right,” Adrien sighs leaning back examining his blonde locks, “What do you think?”

“A nice pastel or cherry blossom pink would look amazing,” Adrien perks up at the suggestion he can still keep the pink, “Actually I might do that too- oh wait! Will that affect our transformation?”

“Not unless you really want to deep down,” Tikki explains, her and Plagg gorging themselves on expensive cheese and treats.

“Well deep down I really don't want to give away our identities like this,”

“It’s a plan then,” Adrien smiles, “Now do you want to order anything else?”

“Thanks but I’m full,”

“What's that got to do with anything?”

---

“Looks great Nette,” Adrien gives her a side hug, the hairdresser shooing him away while he does the final touch-ups.

“Are you talking to me or yourself?” Marinette smiles at the new and improved shock of pink hair.

“Well obviously I look fabulous, but you look great too,” Marinette rolls her eyes at him looking back in the mirror. Instead of evening out her hair, they had made it look like her little episode was actually intentional giving it nice layers and even doing an undercut on the other side. Unlike Adrien, she didn't go all pink, instead the tips being white ombre up to pink and then her natural hair color.

“Thanks, you have to send a picture of your hair to Nino he's more invested in your teenage rebellion than you are, he’s probably also hurt you left him out of the running away part,”

“He has suggested, more than once, running away together,”

“Why what's wrong with Nino's family?”

“Nothing at all,” Adrien quickly covers, “I think he just really wanted me to run away, his mum offered to pack us lunches,”

“Well, maybe we could have used the turtle,” Marinette sighs, “But I could do that to Nino, you already had to leave Kagami behind, have you given her a call yet?”

“Oh um, about that-" Adrien points at her tapping his chin thoughtfully, "Never mention it again,”

“Adrien,” Marinette scowls, “Call your girlfriend,”

“She’ll kill me,” Adrien hides partly behind a seat looking meek, “Also you don't get to lecture me, you haven't called your parents,”

“That's different,” Marinette groans sinking into the seat, only to get told off for moving, “They’ll want me to come home, how am I supposed to explain that I can’t,”

“They’re your parents,” Adrien stresses, “I’m sure they’ll be happy enough to know your ok,”

“Maybe,” Marinette hums, the cloth being removed from her shoulders letting her get up, “I just feel so bad for putting them through this,”

“Maybe one day they’ll understand,” Adrien walks with her to the front to pay.

“Maybe,” Marinette looks down at the bill, “Wow this is a lot more expensive than the usual dye job,”

Made sense because they were in the higher income distinct of the city.

“Why Marinette,” Adrien grins swiping the card, “That's the point,”

Ten minutes later they were laughing as calls kept pouring in one after the other. They are only interrupted when they get the distinct feeling of an Akuma.

“Duty calls,” Adrien sighs putting his phone on silent.

“Seems so, at least we can call out skills multiple times," Marinette walks casually into an alley with him, “What are you up to?”

“About three,” Adrien shrugs transforming, “It takes about double the time for the transformation to drop now,”

“Same, wish I could say that gives us the edge but really it only keeps us from falling off the cliff,” Marinette also transforms, her new costume bringing a smile to her face.

“How eloquent my lady,” Marinette playfully pushes him, Chat catches himself catapulting over the building, she quickly follows behind.

The Akuma is standard, Marinette guesses the akumatized item is the wrist watch. The problem comes with their recurring thorn in her side.

“Ladybug-”

“Get out of the city,” She cuts Batman off, “Yeah, yeah let us handle this first,”

Marinette throws her yoyo out just in time to deflect an attack headed at Chat.

“Do you need any help?” Robin asks, Marinette smiles, partly at the aghast face Batman makes.

“Do you think you could tag-team it with me?” She asks formulating a plan, with the extra help she might not need the lucky charm, “Make your attacks big and draw his attention, grab the wristwatch if you can,”

“On it,” Robin gives her a nod jumping into the fray, Ladybug doesn't give batman a chance to object running after.

Robin does a good job they work in perfect sync falling back when the other moves to make an attack. When the Akuma focuses on them too much Chat swoops in and gets their attention giving them the chance to swipe at the wristwatch. It goes on she sees Robin get thrown back after another failed swipe at the wristwatch. Ladybug takes the chance to move forward grabbing for the wrist, she isn't watching out for the other arm, the impact hitting and sending her flying back.

“I got you,” Her momentum is stopped by a hand bracing at her back, saving her from crashing into the adjacent building.

“Thanks, Robin,” He helps steady her as she finds her footing again, “I’ll move in you follow me up,”

“No need,” He smirks brandishing the watch.

“You did it,” Ladybug beams, taking the watch and smashing it to the ground, “Great job!”

“Ah, thanks,” Ladybug doesn't pay attention to how Robin brushes, focusing on purifying the Akuma and fixing the damage.

“We made a pretty good team,” Ladybug turns to Robin when everything is settled, “Pound it,”

Robin meets her fist with some hesitance, which disappears when she smiles at him again.

“Ladybug!” Batman yells heading their way.

“Ops sorry,” Ladybug cringes, “Sorry! Cant stop gotta go, bye bye!”

They run from the scene faster than Batman can hope to catch them. They end up back at her newly brought bike stacked with fabric and protected by a bit of luck. Marinette races home to make everyone's gifts, knowing just who she wanted to start with.

---

“There you are!” Marinette exclaims, having spent the past half hour searching the manor for him.

“What do you want?” Damian snaps as if he wasn't just playing with the cat on the floor half a second ago.

“Nothing, I made something for you~” He continues to scowl but Marinette doesn't let it discourage her, “Here, I didn’t know your size so I made a baggier style, do you like it?”

Damian takes the sweater holding it up to where she put it on him looking down a little shocked. Marinette almost wants to laugh at the expressions trying to shift back from awe to disinterest, it’s cute. She smiles wondering what his face would look like if she made a matching one for the cat, and maybe Titus too.

“.... It’s well made,” Damian eventually allows, folding it over his arm, Marinette notices how his fingers linger on the soft fabric.

“Good to know,” She smiles, bidding him goodbye before the moment can be ruined. She bounces down the hall humming to herself.

“Someone's happy,” Tikki flies out of her bag.

“He liked it, why wouldn't I be happy?”

“Someones really happy,”

“Stop it Tikki,” Marinette giggles, making the kwami laugh in turn.

“Just like adrien~” Tikki sing songs floating down the hall ahead of her.

“Well then, keep Kagami far away from this one,”

“Don’t turn into a stuttering mess and we have a deal,” Tikki agrees.

“Please Tikki I’m not thirteen anymore,” Marinette brushes her off, ready to go make the others gifts, if she spent the whole time humming to herself Tikki wasn't going to explain why to Adrien.

---------

Taglist? nope don’t have one, horrible at keeping track of them sorry~

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #ml fic #ML #MLB #Marinette #miraculous marinette #badass marinette #maribat #daminette

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

https://wiypt-writes.tumblr.com/post/644486634874847232/stark-spangled-banner

Ch58: You Have To Go Through The Worst, To Get To The Best.

Intro: In the aftermath of the battle, Katie grieves for Tony as the world comes to terms with the fact that people they lost five years ago have reappeared.

Warnings: “Language!”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This is it! We head into the last part and as such, a brand new banner again from @angrybirdcr. Only a few chapters left.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 57

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Sorry for your loss.

Four words that Katie was already sick of hearing. Sorry. What did people have to be sorry for? It wasn’t like it was their fault. Still, she acknowledged the sympathy that came her way, completely automatically, almost emotionlessly. She barely registered the fact she had spoken to Fury and Hill, two people who had been dead five years ago, she didn’t have the energy to wish she could knock Ross’ head off his shoulders and had no idea how long she had walked what was left of the compound, maybe an hour or so? Who cared anyway? She simply did what people asked her to do to help out, whilst Steve hurried around organising everyone and barking orders.

Nevertheless, when the crowds of Emergency Services, Armed Forces and Support Staff that had flooded the Compound left, she suddenly felt alone and found herself in their compound apartment, which had miraculously survived bar from a smashed window in the living area. She glanced around before she headed to the bedroom and slumped heavily on the large bed, staring at the wall.

Just staring.

It was quiet, but her mind was anything but. Her brain was screaming all sorts of stuff at her, a jumble of words and sounds and visions, but she couldn’t really understand any of it.

She simply felt broken.

“Katie?”

A voice broke through her reverie and she looked up to see Steve in the doorway.

“Hey.” She gave him a soft smile. “Pepper just spoke to Happy, the kids are fine. All three are fast asleep. He’s going to wake them in a few hours and bring them back.” “No.” Katie shook her head. “I want him to bring them now.” “Honey its almost two am.” He said, and Katie frowned. Okay, so she’d been walking around a little longer than she thought, then. “Let them sleep. We can go, get cleaned up and…” “Plan how we tell them their Uncle is dead.” She swallowed, gazing back down at her hands.

Steve took a shaky breath. He felt beyond guilty. Guilty that he got to go home to his kids because of the fact that Tony didn’t. Steeling himself, he made his way to the bed, sat down next to his wife and wrapped his arm around her as she lay her head on his shoulder.

“What’s everyone doing?” She asked softly.

“Rhodey is in with Ross and President Ellis…” “Ellis is here?” She looked at him, frowning.

Steve nodded. “Rhodey’s giving him a brief on what’s happened. They’re gonna need to put an announcement out so…”

“Suppose it was probably a shock everyone re-appearing again.” She reasoned, quietly. “What about everyone else?”

“Well Lang, Parker and Bruce already left.” Steve explained as his hand gently rubbed up and down her arm. “And there’s a chopper on the way to take Pepper home and a couple more following to take the rest of us to the Tower. The roads are completely jammed, apparently there’s impromptu parties taking place all over. Might be a while before we can get back through to Brooklyn.” The thought of partying seemed alien to Katie, but as she thought about it, it wasn’t surprising. People would be greeting lost loved ones, celebrating the fact the world has returned to normal.

For them anyway.

“Clint will want to go home.” Katie nodded. “He’ll be desperate to see Laura and the kids.” “We’ve got a jet on the way for him so he can go as soon as possible.” Steve soothed, dropping a kiss to her head.

If ever Katie was grateful for having a husband with Military organisational skills it was now. He’d literally thought of everything. She closed her eyes and nuzzled into him even more, seeking out comfort like a child, before Steve reached around and pulled her onto his lap, holding her close to him, as they sat in silence.

****

“I guess this is strange for you too, huh?” Steve said as they made their way into the Tower. “Yeah you could say that.” Sam shrugged, “One minute everyone was in Wakanda and then the next minute it was just us, and the jungle had changed.” He paused, scratching his head. “Then that Strange dude turns up and tells us it’s been five years and we needed to go fight one last time.”

“Has it really been that long?” Bucky asked and Steve nodded. “So now you’re older than me?” He grinned. Steve chuckled as Katie gave a small smile. “Shut up.”

They made their way into the elevator and FRIDAY greeted them, somewhat forlornly, as Katie asked for their floor. The elevator fell silent as it scooted upwards, pinging open. Katie stepped out first, followed by Wanda then the men.

“So, where do you want-“Bucky began but he stopped dead causing Sam to bump into him.

“What the hell, Frosty?” he spluttered, frowning as he followed Bucky’s eye line, his own eyes growing wide as he saw what Bucky was staring at. Wanda was also gazing, her mouth open, and Steve immediately knew what they were looking at- the large framed photo on the wall in the living room.

Even though their home was in Brooklyn this was still very much their apartment. Katie sometimes stayed if she had a big meeting, or on occasions they would crash here when they grabbed a rare night out in Manhattan. And it was for that reason that the photos in the apartment had been updated over the past five years as their lives had moved on. The wall their friends were gazing at contained two prints. The first was one taken by Katie at the hospital when Jamie was hours old, the same photo also adorned the wall in the lounge at home and it showed Steve asleep in the chair by her hospital bed, hair unkempt, shirt crumbled, stubble on his chin as his baby son was clutched to his chest as they both slept. He remembered the moment like it was yesterday, one snapshot moment out of God knows how many, all of which the three people stood in front of him had missed.

The second was from last year, and showed Emmy with Alex as they sat on the sofa at home, both grinning at the camera.

“You…” Sam gasped as Wanda and Bucky turned to them, mouth hanging open.

Steve nodded, “Yeh, err, did no one tell you?” He asked, rubbing his neck.

“No.” Bucky breathed.

“But then it never really cropped up in conversation, you know, on account of us being in the middle of a battle and all.” Sam said, a little sarcastically and Wanda thumped his arm before she turned to Katie.

“How old?” She asked softly.

“Emily is sixteen next week.” Katie said, looking at the photos smiling softly. “We adopted her after the snap, it’s a long story.”

She then looked at Steve who smiled, knowing she was allowing him the task of revealing their boy’s name to two of the men he was named after.

“And Jamie’s three.” He turned to look at Bucky and Sam.

“Jamie?” Bucky asked thickly.

“Or to give him his full name James Anthony Samuel.”

Bucky and Sam exchanged a look, the pair of them floundering for words.

“Cap,” Sam swallowed, his eyes misting over. “Wow, I’m so happy for you guys.” “I can’t wait to meet them.” Wanda beamed.

“You might regret saying that.” Steve chuckled. “Emmy’s a sass bag and Jamie can be a handful. He’s only three but he’s stubborn, opinionated- don’t even say it.” He pointed at Bucky who had opened his mouth to comment, a grin spreading across his handsome face.

“They’re awesome.” Katie spoke softly as her eyes moved round the apartment and fell on a photo of her and Tony taken at her wedding. Suddenly she couldn’t be there anymore. Excusing herself she headed into their bedroom where she flopped onto the bed, now feeling utterly overwhelmed, still struggling to make head or tail of her emotions. She should have been celebrating like everyone else in the streets was doing. Their friends and trillions of other people were saved, but she couldn’t because again, just like the other week when they had grieved for Natasha, there was one person who wasn’t coming back.

Her brother.

Taking a deep breath, she shed her boots before she stood up and peeled off her cat suit before she made her way straight into the en-suite.

She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand, an attempt to sooth the pain she now felt in every inch of her body. But whilst some of it was bruising from the multiple blows she had taken, some of it was coming from inside. The pain of losing her brother was physical, and hard. Closing her eyes she lay her head against the tiles, allowing the water to beat down on her, lost in her memories. “I got full marks on my English essay Tone!” Her 10 year old self grinned up at him as he leaned against the car, looking as effortlessly cool as ever.

“Get you, you little brainbox!” He ruffled her hair. “That’s awesome, so awesome in fact I think we need to stop for pizza and a shit load of ice cream on the way home. Sound good?” “You’re the best!” She beamed as he took her pink back-pack off her and dropped it into the trunk as she climbed into the passenger seat of his BWM.

“Oh no, you are not going out wearing that!” Tony stod up as she walked into the living room of the house. Sixteen year old Katie rolled her eyes.

“Tone its boiling hot outside, what you want me to wear? A pair of jeans and a fucking coat?” “Anything but that!” He scoffed, looking at the rather short denim skirt. “Young Lady, I can see what you had for breakfast!”

“Oh bite me, Tony.” She shot back, hearing the guffaw that Rhodey gave out from the sofa before she shot out of the front door to greet her boyfriend who had just pulled up the drive.

She was eighteen…, cruising along the cliff in Malibu, laughing, her hands on the steering wheel of her convertible bug, Tony in the passenger seat sipping an iced tea as the pair of them sang as loudly as they could to Drops of Jupiter- their song.

“Mr Rock and Roll over there, listen to you!” She laughed as the song finished and it changed to AC/DC ‘Thunder’.

“If you ever tell anyone about my love of Train I will kill you.” Tony looked at her over his sunglasses and she snorted, grinning.

“I’m so telling Pepper.”

“Err you know I can still pull my funding.” He glared “You can kiss goodbye to going to Oxford…”

And speaking of Oxford, at twenty-one, she was there, accepting her first class honours in English Literature and Mythology. As she smiled for the camera, she could see Tony stood up in the middle of the hall, whistling before he punched the air. “That’s my girl!” He yelled “Katie Maria Stark. That’s my girl! No I won’t sit down…what did you just say?” And he began arguing with the person behind him.

At twenty-six she was crying, tears of happiness as the ramp on the aircraft carrier opened to reveal her brother. His hair was longer, he looked thinner but he was alive. He was barely at the bottom before she flung herself at him, not caring that his arm was a sling.

“Hey Kiddo.” He said softly as she buried her face into his neck.

“You fucking asshole!” She sobbed, “Next time, you ride with Rhodey, you got that?”

“Trust me, there will be no next time.” He chuckled as she pulled back. “Afghanistan is a shit hole.”

A year later she was crying again, sobbing even, as Tony sat with his arms around her, gently shushing her as she sat up in her bed. “How could he do that to me Tony?” She sniffed, her tears dampening her brother’s t-shirt as he rubbed her back, laying his head against hers. “I thought he loved me…but…” “He isn’t worth your tears, Kiddo.” He sighed “Grant Ward doesn’t deserve them, or you. No one ever will, you got that? No one will ever be good enough for you.”

And then she was walking up the aisle towards her future husband, her arm linked tightly around Tony’s. He pressed a kiss to her head.

“Remember, just because I’m giving you away doesn’t mean I won’t kick his ass if he ever hurts you.” Tony mumbled and she snorted, turning to look at him. “I love you to the stars and back, Katie, remember that…”

Like she could ever forget. Tony hadn’t been to everyone’s taste, hell, at times he hadn’t be hers, and they’d been estranged for two years. But Katie had never, not once, stopped loving the man who had brought her up as his own. Her brother and father all rolled into one.

She finished washing her hair and stepped out of the shower, the tears still not arriving. She began to wonder if there was something wrong with her. She’d cried more when Natasha died. She pulled on a towel robe that was hanging behind the door and began to dry her hair, squeezing the water out of the long strands.

“I remember when you used to do that for me.” She grinned, watching Tony as he sat with Morgan between his legs on the lounger round the pool at her Brooklyn home, rubbing the little girl’s wet hair ferociously with a pink beach towel, making the three year old cackle with laughter. I remember…but Morgan won’t.

And then the cry ripped from her chest, like someone had reached down her throat and pulled it from the very depths of her heart.

***** Steve made sure the guys were settled in a spare apartment a few floors down, the three of them opting to share, none of them particularly wanting to be alone. Making his way back into theirs, he headed straight to the bedroom and heard Katie turn off the water to the shower. With a groan he stripped off the top half of his uniform, dropping the grubby item to the bed. His eyes were drawn to the silver star in the middle, and he ran his fingers over it, the material torn in places having seen better days, much like him.

With a deep breath he reached to pull off his compression shirt, but before he got chance, he heard a noise from the bathroom, a primal, raw, broken scream that chilled his every bone. Quick as flash he crossed the room and pushed open the door to the en-suite and found his wife slumped on her knees on the floor, screaming and crying uncontrollably.

“He’s gone! He’s gone, he’s gone!” Steve had known this was coming and it broke his heart that he could do nothing to help, nothing to take away the utter desperation and pain and anger his wife was feeling. Without hesitation he dropped to his knees and she turned to him, fisting her hands around his top as he pulled her close, one arm round her back, the other in her hair.

“Let it out,” his voice was croaky as he rocked her, gently stroking her hair as his cheek pressed against the top of her head, “I got you, sweetheart, I got you.” How long they stayed there for, with Katie screaming and crying over the soft sounds of his soothing, Steve had no idea, but eventually her sobs became sniffles as she regained some form of composure.

“Steve,” she managed to stutter as she pulled back to look at him, “Tony’s gone, he’s gone, why? Why did he have to do that? There had to be some other way!” “Oh, Doll.” Steve’s voice cracked, his own heart ached with grief and sympathy and love as he dropped a kiss to her forehead, pulling her onto his lap as he sat back on the floor, making no attempts to move her. He buried his face into her hair, his own sobs catching in his throat.

“All my life Tony has been there.” She whispered gently as kissed her head. “Even when we were apart those years I knew that if I needed him, he would be there…but now…he’s gone and I don’t know what to do.”

“You do what you always do.” Steve whispered softly as he pulled back, cupping her face in his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “You get up, you dust yourself off and you act like the amazing, strong, beautiful woman you are. My wife, my baby momma.”

“I don’t know if I can. Katie spluttered.

“Yes, you can. You’re the strongest person I know.” He implored her, sniffing a little.

“I don’t feel strong.”

“You won’t.” He shook his head. “Not yet. But I’m here. Okay? And we’ll do it together.”

Katie looked at him for a moment before she moved once more to bury her face into his t-shirt again, simply breathed him in. His warmth and familiar smell, even if he wasn’t as fresh as he could be after the exertion of battle, was a comfort, a balm to her broken soul.

Tony was gone, she knew that, but she wasn’t on her own. She’d never be on her own as long as she had Steve.

****

“Don’t be sad Momma.” Jamie whispered, as Katie’s tears tickled down her cheeks, her son on her lap. TO her right, Emmy sat on her father’s, despite her age meaning she was normally way past that stage, as she cried into his chest, his arms gently cradling her. “Uncle Nee isn’t on his own.” “What do you mean, baby?” Katie asked, sniffing as he played with a strand of her hair.

He looked at her with his baby blue eyes and shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “Because he’s with Auntie Nat-Nat.”

“Yeah,” Katie stuttered, a soft sob escaping her. “You’re right. But I’m still sad, but you don’t need to be worried about that okay?” Jamie nodded, before he blinked and frowned. “I can kiss it better, like you kiss my ouches better.”

Katie smiled as he leaned up, connecting his lips to hers with a loud smacking noise.

“That’s it, you just made it all okay.” She smiled, wiping her eyes.

“When can we go home?” Emmy asked, sitting up slightly, her voice croaky.

“Soon, I promise.” Steve looked at her. “I think we’ll stay here for tonight, your mom and I both need a rest.”

Emmy nodded “I expect kicking alien butt for hours takes it out of you.” Steve snorted. “A little.” “You did it though. Everyone came back.” “Yeah, and on that note,” Katie picked up, “we have some people we’d like you to meet. That’s if you’re feeling up to it.” “Is it them? Bucky, Sam and Wanda?” Emmy asked, her wet brown eyes opening wide.

“Yeah.” Steve smiled. “And, if it’s ok with you, we thought we could all have breakfast together.”

“Pancakes?” Jamie asked hopefully and Katie nodded, dropping a kiss to his head.

“Pancakes” She affirmed.

“Now?”

“Do you ever think about anything but this?” Katie chuckled, prodding his tummy. He pondered for a second.

“Legos.” he said, nodding. “I think about my legos sometime.”

Emmy snorted and Steve let out a little laugh “Pancakes and legos eh, son?” he reached out and ruffled Jamie’s hair. “What more could a three year old want?”

****

Manhattan was in utter chaos and going out in public was the last thing Steve or Katie wanted for fear of being mobbed. However, the kitchens in the tower were well stocked and after sending Emmy to forage what she could, it was easy for Katie to whip up a batch of batter and throw some bacon into a pan.

She set Emmy to work chopping some fruit, and never one to miss out, she stood Jamie on a chair in front of her and gently guided his hand as he held the whisk to stir the batter. Katie was literally grabbing the ladle to drop the first load into the pan, when the door to the apartment opened and Steve’s voice carried in to the kitchen.

“Hey guys?” Jamie squealed in excitement and Katie moved so he could get down. He shot out of the kitchen, barrelling into the lounge where he skidded to a halt by his dad and gazed up at the three strange adults in front of him.

The first thing that hit Bucky was just how like Steve the little boy was. Stocky, bright blue eyes and a shock of dark blonde hair.

“He looks like you.” He smiled, nodding to Steve as Katie stepped into the room with Emmy and smiled.

“Jamie, Emmy, this is Bucky, Sam and Wanda.” Steve introduced them all, as Emmy raised her hand shyly in greeting.

Meanwhile, Jamie simply gazed up at Bucky, his attention focussed directly on his metal arm and Bucky suddenly began to worry that it would scare him. He was attempting to move it out of view by standing side on, until Jamie stepped forward with all his usual boldness and pointed.

“Is that metal?” “Jamie.” Steve spoke, his tone soft. He couldn’t scald his son for being curious, but at the same time he had seen the apprehension in Bucky’s eyes. Apprehension that had now turned to amusement.

“Yeah it is.” Bucky chuckled, crouching down so he was eye level with his namesake. He held his left hand up, wiggling the fingers. “Wanna touch it?” Jamie reached out and placed his palm against Bucky’s prosthetic and grinned, “Cool,” before he looked up at Steve. “Can I have one?”

“Absolutely not.” Steve shook his head with a grin.

“You think that’s cool you should see my wings.” Sam crouched down next to Bucky, smiling at Jamie.

“You have wings?” The little boy’s eyes grew wide “I want…”

“No!”

“Fine I’ll just ask Santa.” Jamie shruggged and Sam let out a loud laugh.

“I like this kid!” he grinned, standing up.

“You can have him.” Steve winked, as Bucky stood up straight and grinned. “Saves us sending him to The Children’s Prison.” “Morgan told me there’s no such place.” Jamie looked at his Dad and Steve let out a sigh. The threat of the Child Prison was their biggest bargaining chip when he was being naughty. Especially as the naughty step wasn’t an option, because the first (and last) time they tried that they caught him climbing up the staircase and sliding down the bannister.

“I told you titch, it does.” Emmy gave a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I lived there before mom and dad adopted me. And all they give you to eat all day is slugs and slime…” Steve shared a look with Bucky and let out a loud laugh.

“Don’t.” Bucky shook his head with a grin.

“You gave Becca nightmares for days with that story!” Steve laughed as he recalled Bucky telling his sister about a hole in the ground where bad kids went. “She wouldn’t go near a manhole for months!”

“I can still feel the blow round the ears my Pa gave me.” Bucky automatically reached up to rub at the back of his head. The well natured chatter continued as they made their way into the kitchen. Steve went to brew the coffee as Sam, Wanda and Bucky took seats round the table with the kids. Occasionally he caught the odd snippet of their chat as Jamie told Bucky about his toys at home, informed Sam all about his friend at day-care, whilst Emmy was busy talking to Wanda about school and what she wanted to do in the future. But all the time Steve had one eye on his wife as she stood, silently, cooking enough pancakes to feed a small army.

Which, to be fair, was probably what they would need with two super soldiers and a hungry three year old to feed.

Moving over towards her, he slipped his arms around her waist and dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“You ok?” He asked, before he sighed “Sorry, stupid question.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No it’s not stupid, I know what you meant. And honestly, no. I’m not. Not really. But I will be, in time. I hope.”

Steve dropped another kiss to her cheek and winced as a loud “GET A ROOM!” sounded across the kitchen and he turned to glare at his son. Bucky and Sam exchanged a gleeful look as Steve raised his hand and pointed at Emmy accusingly. “That was not me!” She scoffed, indignantly “It was Bucky that told him to say it.” “If this is the impression you have on my kids after all of fifteen minutes, James Buchanan Barnes, then I’m going to have to seriously consider letting you near them again.” Katie shook her head as she dropped the plate of pancakes into the middle of the table.

“Why did you just call him James?” Jamie asked, frowning

“Because my name is James too.” Bucky answered for Katie.

“No, it’s Bucky.”

“He only gets called James when he’s been bad, bit like you, pal.” Steve chuckled, placing Jamie’s plate of food in front of him. “Now eat that, and then you can show Buck your legos.”

“My legos are here?” Jamie said, grinning.

“Yeah they’re in your bag, we brought them from the compound.” Steve answered, dropping a kiss to his son’s head.

“What the hell is a Lego?” Bucky asked, his face contorted in confusion. The room feel silent as all eyes turned to the man who glanced around, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “What?” ****

Rhodey called later that morning to give them a heads up that the President would be addressing the nation later that afternoon, and to also inform Katie that they were talking about honouring both Tony and Natasha posthumously. Katie had merely snorted, not entirely sure what Tony would have said about any of that, until Rhodey made her laugh about the last time he had received an honour, getting stabbed with the pin by the Senator awarding it to him, Senator Stern.

Who had turned out to be HYDRA.

True to his word, just as he had done five years ago, President Ellis’ address rang out across the nation at precisely three that afternoon, on every TV and Radio channel there was.

“I know there is much speculation surrounding the events of the last 24 hours, and it is for that reason I find myself addressing you all once more, with regards to the Decimation. Only this time I am happy to greet you all with much better news. Thanks to the brave actions of the Avengers and countless others who fought in a ferocious battle Upstate, the Vanished have been returned to us in the same state in which they left.

But it isn’t without cost.

Unfortunately, I have the very sad job of confirming to you all that the rumours are true. Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff both lost their lives in the mission to bring everyone back. My sincere condolences and thoughts are with the rest of the Avengers, in particular the Rogers and Stark families, and I’m sure I speak for the entire world when I say we will be forever indebted to the two fallen heroes for their brave sacrifices which ensured that friends and families across the globe could be reunited.”

Katie glanced down at her hands as she took a deep breath, the tears falling into her lap as Steve’s arm curled round her shoulder, sniffing a little as his own eyes were once again misted over.

“I know you will all have many questions, some of you will be at a loss as to what to do, and unfortunately I don’t have all the answers, so it is for that reason, if I may, I’d like to address those who have been returned to us.

Over the past five years the world has become a very different place to the one you knew. People lost entire families, friends, husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends. We had to rebuild, make sense of living without you. So I ask you , please be patient with us whilst we try once more to make sense of events, only this time they are a lot happier as you have all been returned to us. Don’t take it too personally if we seem a little, well, astounded.”

Ellis paused, wiping his eyes as he smiled, licking his lips.

“Thank you all, God Bless America, and God Bless the Avengers.”

****

That night fireworks exploded across the skies all over the country. The current occupants of the tower sat on the roof watching the symphony of colours and explosions as it light up the Manhattan sky-line, Jamie opting to sit on Bucky’s knee instead of his father’s, because of course Bucky was now his favourite person on the planet.

But Steve didn’t mind, well, not too much anyway.

The next few days passed them by in a bit of a blur. They moved back to the house in Brooklyn. Sam and Bucky came with them. However, surprisingly to Steve (but not to Katie) Wanda opted to head to Clint’s after the archer called and offered her a room. Steve’s time was divided between speaking to the UN, various people in the senate and government alongside Rhodey as they started to make plans to help those people who had returned because reversing the snap had raised a whole cacophony of different problems, just as Tony had predicted it would.

Some of the vanished had come back to find their wives or husbands had re-married. Others found themselves with no-one left as they’d passed away. Some found themselves homeless as new occupants had moved into their apartments which had been left vacant. Two of those people were Peter Parker and his Aunt May, who were now residing in the Tower until Katie could find them somewhere permanent.

And then there were the kids who had been adopted, suddenly finding themselves with two sets of parents.

Katie, on the other hand, had no time or energy for anything other than planning Tony’s funeral with Pepper, and a service of sorts for Natasha with Clint. Natasha’s was to take place first, a small ceremony at Clint’s farm where they would be planting a red maple tree in her honour. Tony’s, however, was slightly more tricky.

Her brother had, at one point, led a very public lifestyle and naturally (even if unfairly) he was attracting the most public interest. They’d been approached by President Ellis, who had asked if they would be open to a full, state public funeral. Katie had been horrified at first, until Pepper had snorted and reminded her that the Old Tony would have loved the attention and fuss.

But New Tony wouldn’t.

Which was why, in the end, they compromised and chose to celebrate the two sides to Tony’s huge personality.

For the Genius, Billionaire, Play-Boy, Philanthropist they would hold a service at St Patrick’s Cathedral and for the husband, father, brother, friend they would then hold a more intimate wake at the lake house, where his ashes would be scattered eventually.

It was draining, emotionally and physically, so it was no surprise to Steve that Katie was constantly tired and a little irritable and the Solider felt the harsh side of her tongue on more than one occasion. But he never bit back, he knew how she was feeling. He’d had to do it with his Ma. Instead he listened to her bounce ideas off him, helped with the organisation where he could, and simply comforted her, holding her close whilst she cried when she needed to.

A week post the return of the Vanished, people seemed to have reached a half-way point, so to speak, between what they had been like before the Snap and what they had become post. But what was noticeable to all of them was that they were persistently mobbed in the street, people wanting to thank them constantly.

Jamie found the whole thing hilarious, waving to people as he walked with his Father one morning to the play-ground. Steve, however, after half an hour had returned home because he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“It’s mad.” He shook his head with a sigh, flopping onto the sofa next to her. “I mean…”

“It’ll die down.” Katie yawned. “Just gonna take a while. People still don’t know what to do. Hell, half the time I don’t know what to do.” She took a deep breath, the back of her hand pressing to her mouth as a queasy feeling washed over her for the umpteenth time that day. “You still feeling crappy?” Steve asked, watching as Jamie sat on the rug with his trucks.

“A little.”

“You thrown up again?” “No.” She shook her head “I don’t feel sick anymore just a little funny, drained almost. I don’t think it’s anything serious. Probably just the stress of all the organising and stuff.”

But as she said the words something in her mind clicked and she sat bolt upright, Steve giving her a curious look.

“What’s wrong?”

“Bruce’s Snap.” She whispered. “The one where he brought everyone back.”

“What about it?”

“What if it brought everyone back?” “Well we know it did…” Steve frowned, not following her line of thought.

“No I mean,” Katie took his hand and placed it on her stomach, “everyone.”

It took Steve a second to cotton on, but when he did he blinked, looking into his wife’s eyes, a faint buzzing ringing in his ears.

“Shit.” He spluttered out.

“Language.” Jamie reprimanded him almost immediately, but both parents ignored him.

“I didn’t,” Steve swallowed, “I mean, I didn’t even consider that a possibility. Do you think it has?”

Katie took a deep breath. “I dunno, I mean the first snap took it away…”

They stayed still for a moment, simply looking at each other, both thinking the same. If one snap had taken their baby, the second snap could quite as easily have brought it back.

“I think I need to go to the store.” Katie muttered.

**** Less than an hour later husband and wife were stood in the bathroom looking down. Down at four different tests. Four different tests that all told them the same thing.

“I can’t believe it.” Steve whispered, his arms wrapping around his wife from behind as he stared down at the test in her hand.

“Me neither.” She whispered, turning to face him, tears in her eyes.

“I’m gonna be a daddy, again.” His hands fell to her hips, blue eyes shining as she gave him a smile, the tears falling down her face.

“And I’m gonna be fat again.” She spluttered, a watery laugh. There was a pause, before Steve’s face cracked into a huge grin and he pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms round his neck and he hugged her close, the pair of them laughing through their tears.

“I like you fat with my kid.” Steve pulled away, wiping the tears that were trickling down her face with his thumbs. She smiled and returned the gesture, brushing the back of her hand over his wet cheeks.

“I love you. So fucking much.” He whispered softly as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“I love you too.” Her voice croaked before Steve pulled her close once more, his huge arms holding her tightly to him, as he breathed her in, his face pressing into her hair.

And for the first time in a week, Katie’s heart felt a little less broken.

**** Chapter 59

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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willykappymarnsmatts · 3 years ago

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Angels Like You (Can't Fly Down Here With Me)(Chapter 4)(A. Matthews/M. Marner)

Mitch and Auston roll into practice together and park next to the same entrance they do every single practice. Business as usual, even though all Mitch wants to do is crawl back into bed and cry or actually murder someone with all the conflicted feelings he has. Auston being at his place this morning has made it slightly more bearable though. Just his presence makes everything seem kind of okay, and as they get out of the car, it’s almost as if he reads Mitch’s mind and puts his hand on his thigh and squeezes gently, in an effort to comfort him enough to stop him from actually vibrating with nerves. “You gonna be okay? I can always tell Keefe you’re too hungover, or sick, or whatever you want the story to be.”

Mitch’s breath catches, which he blames on Auston forcing him out of his head so suddenly, not on his touch, and smiles a bit, but shakes his head. “I’m okay. Honestly. I think this is the best thing for me right now, to just continue life as usual.”

Auston knows he’s lying, knows Mitch well enough to tell when he’s not being totally honest, but he smiles at him anyways and nods. “If you need anything just tell me, alright? Anything.” Auston actually might jump in front of a bus with how overly affectionate he knows he sounds, but Mitch smiles slightly and glances at Auston before looking back down at his lap, and he forgets to be disgusted with himself. They drag themselves out of the car and as they grab their bags, Will comes up from behind them and pushes himself between the two of them, an arm around each of their shoulders.

“Morning, boys,” Will starts, all too energetic and bubbly for the tense air around them. It breaks the grey cloud looming over Mitch’s head a bit, though, but when he visibly perks up Auston’s heart clenches. He’s happy, of course, but almost jealous it wasn’t him to snap him out of it.

Why couldn’t it be him?

“Morning, Will. How ya doing, bud?”

“Great, actually.” The two of them trail off into a conversation about Will’s exciting morning, leaving Auston to berate himself. He wants so badly to be William at this moment. The jealousy he feels makes him want to vomit. He actually might be sick, because what the fuck. It’s his two best friends. It’s not like Mitch even likes him back, never mind loves him the way Auston does. He has no fucking right to be jealous, but he can’t help it. Mitch is his entire world, and he’d kill to just put a smile on his pretty face, and Will is able to do it in the first two seconds of them seeing each other. He doesn’t want anyone to make Mitch as happy as he does, and it's gross and disgusting and toxic but he can’t help it because it’s how he feels. He hates it, but it’s the truth.

Mitch notices his silence and when they sit down next to each other in their stalls, he tries to ask him what’s up by knocking their knees together. Auston just shakes his head and bites his tongue, swallowing down the three words he wants to say more than anything to save himself from the embarrassment and disappointment he knows he would feel for the rest of time if he was actually honest about this. It’s the one thing he knows he can’t share with Mitch, and it’s the one thing he wants to the most. Mitch just nods, pauses for a second, then starts without looking up at Auston right away.

“Will invited us over to his place for dinner tonight. Said his apartment’s been empty with Kap gone, and I haven’t been over there in a while…” The guilt that displays itself all over Mitch’s face is more than enough to have Auston nodding his head in agreement, even though he knows exactly what Will is planning to do as soon as he has the two of them in a room together with him and no fans or teammates or staff to see. He just does not have the energy for it today, but who could say no to Mitch. “Cool! Awesome, I’ll, uh, I’ll tell him we can go, then. What time do you want me to pick you up?”

It has to stop, Auston knows that. The two of them have been driving each other around since rookie year, and it’s probably part of what led to all of his messed up feelings. Spending so much time with each other, it’s bound to happen to at least one of them, and the one ended up being Auston. So it has to stop. “I can drive myself, you know.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as snide as it does, because when would he ever purposely try to hurt Mitch, but the second the words leave his mouth he regrets all of it.

“Oh,” Mitch nods, looking like someone just sucker-punched him in the gut. “Uhm, yeah, I know. I just thought that, since I usually pick you up to go to things, I would. But if you don’t want to, that's fine. Yeah.” He shoots his gaze to the floor, unsure of what to do now. He wasn’t expecting it to be that big of a deal, but now he feels like he’s suffocating.

Auston’s chest hurts so bad he could scream, and even though his heart is saying to lighten up and back off, when he opens his mouth, his tone stays the same as before. “I just think we should give each other some space sometimes. It’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.” He spits the last word and actually cannot physically remove the disgust from his face. What the fuck is wrong with you?! Relax!

Mitch doesn’t look up right away, but nods and bites his lip. Auston gets up and starts putting his stuff from his bag into his cubby, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Mitch unsure of what to do with himself, playing with his watch absentmindedly while he chews the living hell out of the inside of his cheek. He continues to watch him while he gets up from his place and stands up next to Auston.

“What is up with you lately, man?” Mitch suddenly bursts, his voice raised a level louder than anyone else in the room. The entire team falls silent, and Auston knows for a fact that usually that would make Mitch calm down, chill out, because despite the fact that he has an A on his chest and has the centre of attention in most rooms he walks into, he still forgets what he wants to say as soon as he has the room’s attention. He continues right on, though, without a second thought about who’s listening. “You’re on and you’re off. You show up to my place all ‘I love you I care about you you don’t need her’ and now you’re snappy and rude. What the fuck have I done to you to hate me so fucking much that when I’m already down, you act like I’m fucking stupid and don’t notice you look miserable when you’re around me?!”

Auston turns towards Mitch, but when he sees the look on his face, any comeback that was on his lips dies right there. He’s seen that look on him, pointed towards the opposing player on a faceoff, or towards a ref after a stupid call against his team, and heartbreakingly towards himself in the mirror after a game he feels like he lost. Auston’s always been the one to wipe that look away, to tell him everythings going to be okay, to calm him down and remind him there’s absolutely nothing wrong with him. That look has never been pointed towards him. Never.

Will stands up then and starts towards Mitch, looking frantically back and forth between Mitch and Auston, looking for Auston to tell him what to do. Auston just stares at Mitch, tongue in cheek, so Will tries to butt in. “Hey, Mitch, I think we should chill out a bit, eh?” “Get the fuck away from me Will. I need to know what his fucking problem is.” Mitch shoves Will to the side, and even though he could’ve easily stood his ground, he backs away a step, not leaving his side completely. Will looks up at Auston, completely unsure of how he’s supposed to help in this situation. Auston thinks his lungs might have actually collapsed because he suddenly can't get a breath in. John makes his way over to the three of them from the other side of the locker room and puts his arms on Auston’s biceps, knowing his tells for when he needs right there, in his space, to calm him down before he implodes. He turns him away from Mitch and forces Auston to make eye contact with him, to look away from Mitch. “Shower, Aus?”

He doesn’t respond, but numbly follows his captain to the showers without looking back to see Will push Mitch into his seat and sit next to him with an arm around his shoulder, all the fight evidently escaping Mitch’s body. “Suit up and ice in two minutes, boys,” John announces to the team before leaving the room.

The door to the showers swings shut and John walks over to where Auston is leaning against a stall door. “What just happened?”

He didn’t even feel like crying two seconds ago, but with his captain so close to him, looking at him like he’s a wounded puppy, he can’t keep it together anymore. John stays right in front of him, doesn’t flinch when Auston’s shoulders start to shake and the tears start to stream down his face.

“I love him, John,” Auston admits, defeated. His shoulders slump and he doesn’t really look at John, instead staring at his hands, his slides, John’s shoulder. “I love him, and he doesn’t love me, he’ll never love me the way I love him, and I think I might die. I actually think it might kill me, how much I love him.” John just shakes his head, looking sadder than Auston has ever seen him, and pulls him into a tight hug. He holds him there for a couple seconds, until Auston grunts a little and steps back. “Yeah, I, uh, I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. Love isn’t even a big enough word to describe the feelings I have for him. But he, uh, he doesn’t love me, and I don’t really know how to get over it.”

“Oh, kid, you don’t.”

“What?” Auston was expecting some sort of advice, maybe an ‘I know’, not a fucking death sentence.

“You don’t just ‘get over it’, kid. It doesn’t work that way. I’m sure you’ve had girlfriends you’ve ‘loved’, and you ‘love’ your dog, and your team, but this is a totally different thing. I believe that once in your life, you meet someone who changes the way you see the world. They take everything you think you know, throw it in the garbage, and reteach it to you. They show you what true, unconditional, absolute love is. You feel like you can’t breathe when you’re without them, and you only feel truly complete when they’re next to you. You can’t imagine your life without them. That’s your soulmate, and if you don’t end up with them, you might ‘move on’, you might meet someone and get married and have kids and have your dream life, but you’ll never truly forget them. They’re your one big, true, epic love.”

“Is that you and Aryne?”

John nods, smiling a little, but remaining somber. “Yeah, it is.”

“Is that, uh, is that me and Mitch?” “I think so, buddy. And if he doesn’t feel the same, it’ll feel like it’ll kill you, but I promise you you’ll survive. It’ll be hell, but you will get through it, and you will be happy again. Maybe never as happy as you are when you’re around him, but close. And if he does feel the same, you’ll be happy as long as you’re with him. Even when the entire world feels like it’s crumbling down around you, he’ll be there, and it’ll make everything kind of okay.”

Auston is unsure how to respond, how to say something even close to as emotionally intelligent as John. “What should I do?” he asks.

“I can’t tell you that, bud. All I can tell you is he is your one true, epic love, and if you let him slip away before ever telling him how you feel, you will never, ever forgive yourself.”

Auston nods and leans in to briefly hug his captain, then shakes his entire body out, takes a breath, and goes to strap on his skates. Mitch is his soulmate. It’s something he’s always had an idea of, something he always thought might possibly be true, but to hear someone else say it out loud, to hear the actual words spoken by his captain of all people, it convinces whatever part of him was holding out on the thought.

Mitch is his soulmate.

He doesn’t know if Mitch feels the same. In fact, he’s almost sure he doesn’t. But if he doesn’t say anything, he’ll regret it for the rest of his life. He pauses where he is, bent over, tying his skate laces. He sits up with his hands on his knees and looks at John, who’s across the room, tying his own laces. “I have to go.”

“And do what?” John doesn’t look up, but Auston knows he has his full attention.

“I just have to do something. I have to tell him, I think, but it has to be perfect, because he’s perfect. I have to, uh, I have to go,” Auston trails off and starts taking off his skates at lightning speed. John look up at him briefly, a small smile on his face.

“Don’t worry about anything, Aus. I’ll take care of Keefe.” Auston nods without looking at his captain, his mind spinning, but completely and utterly focused on the one thing he knows is true.

Mitch is my soulmate. I am utterly in love with Mitch Marner.

And I’m gonna teach him what real love is.

#auston matthews/mitch marner #auston matthews #mitch marner #hockey #nhl #hockey fic #hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs #william nylander #john tavares #willykappymarnsmatts

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sarahjtv · 4 years ago

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BNHA 296 Spoiler Thoughts

Ok, wow. I was just sitting down enjoying my Sunday when the next chapter suddenly decides to drop onto our laps and bring us all to tears. I did not expect it, but I welcome it with somber feels. Of course, since this is the aftermath chapter, I have a lot thoughts. Here we go:

•The chapter starts off with narration from Deku on what happened after the big battle. This tells us that he’s still alive (presumedly) thank god. There’s a panel later that shows him on a stretcher (I think) or a bed, but he’s unconscious. Regardless, I don’t see Deku’s limbs going back to normal after all this unless something comes in to fix them. Eri’s not an option here because she used all her energy on Mirio recently, so don’t go thinking that’ll work unless there’s a time-skip.

•So far, Pixie Bob, Wash, Present Mic, and Thirteen are still alive and fighting. Thirteen, however, seems to have lost an arm when she was in the lab... We do see some of her face, so that’s a reveal if anything.

•Deku says that their were at least 10 Near High-End Nomu in that battlefield. 3 of them were disposed and 7 escaped. We did see one get captured by Best Jeanist in the last chapter so maybe they can get some intel from it.

•Mr. Compress is alive! I’m honestly glad that he’s alive because I could’ve sworn he was going to die. That reveal we had about him being the descendent of the Perilous Thief was just too big for him to be killed off right away. I’m hoping we can learn more about him and the Thief later.

•Back at the resort: ReDestro, Getten, Trumpet, and more than 16,900 PLF soldiers were caught. Edgeshot is still alive too, but he looks tired and his arm is messed up. I do not see that Old Samurai hero from the top 10 around, so my best bet is that he’s alive. I hope...

•Now, we REALLY get a look at all the death and destruction that this war has caused. Adults, kids, and families are either injured or dead. Everyone is traumatized. Thankfully Froppy and Uraraka (I can’t spell her first name right to save me...) are working on rescuing (Uraraka in particular is good for this thanks to her Zero Gravity). A lot of other heroes like Koda and Manga are helping out too, but the screams of people in pain and horror do not leave the pages and it’s honestly haunting to read.

•And poor Uraraka. As she’s saving people, you can see her hair get messier and messier. There’s one really well-drawn, but sad, panel of her with spots of blood on her and her hair isn’t “floaty” like it normally is. It’s droopy and straight down like she’s been caught in rain or something. I’m not used to her being like this. This war is going to make her rethink things, I think.

•There’s one hero, who in the mist of all this, says that this whole thing was a mistake. He’s thinking about finding a new job. I highly doubt he’s the only on thinking this. War affects people badly. They want to fight for the greater good, but the cost is their own mentality, physicality, and even their lives. Sometimes other people’s lives. So, in a world of heroes where things like this happen on a devastating scale, you have to wonder “Is being a hero really worth it?” I’m sure more heroes, maybe even students, will be thinking about this in the future. I won’t be surprised if some quit entirely.

•And now the hero death toll. Oh my god... The first thing I saw when I saw the leaks was Midnight’s death. I’m devastated. Her horniness aside, I loved her character. Midnight genuinely cared for her students and wanted them to grow into amazing heroes. She supported her high school friends, Present Mic and Aizawa, the whole way through including Shirakumo’s death. She adopted the cat the 4 of them took care of during high school and I believe it’s still alive today. I can’t imagine what Mic and Aizawa are going to feel when they hear about this. I honestly thought she was going to make it out alive. I thought that she was safe and had some plot armor on her. But no. She’s dead. Midnights’s not coming back. The students are mourning her especially Mina, Kirishima, and Momo. The three main players in the sedative plan. Their plan worked, but had it worked sooner, a lot of lives could’ve been saved. Ultimately, none of this is their fault, but it’s going to weigh on them heavily. Please give these kids therapy.

•Adding onto Midnight, heroes like Crust, Majestic, X-Less, and Native are dead. We know about Midnight, Crust, and X-Less now, but the rest were not known yet. I doubled out Majectic and Native here for reasons. Majestic was Momo’s 2nd intern mentor before the war. We didn’t know much about him or his Quirk (it was some sort of levitation via ring platforms), but he did save the student’s lives when they were about to be run over by Gigantomachia. Looks like that was a sacrifice. Native, if you remember, was the hero Iida, Deku, and Shoto saved back in Hosu back when they fought Stain. We didn’t know much about him, but it sucks to know that he was saved then only to be killed now. This will probably hurt Iida, Deku, and Shoto real bad knowing that saving him became pretty null and void in the end.

•Aside from that, the rest of them look like they were young, in their prime, or veterans in the world of Pro Heroes. It just sucks in general to have to see all these lives cut short. But, that’s how war goes, unfortunately.

•Endeavor... I’m one of the people who actually like Endeavor. I will never forgive him for what he did to Shoto and his family pre-Sports Festival. But, I wanted to see how he would redeem himself after Kosu. So far, he was doing well. He didn’t expect forgiveness and only wanted to atone. Everything in the Todoroki family was finally going well. And then Dabi/Touya showed up and screwed up everything. Now, everyone knows about Endeavor’s past as an abuser and they will never see him in the same light again. I don’t think he has a choice but to admit to his sins publicly and then retire. I hate the idea because he is a good hero, but I don’t see any other way he’s going to get out of this. Same with Hawks. I don't see him going back to hero work either.

•There’s one small panel with 2 kids from the short Remedial Course Arc we got with Shoto and Bakugo. Rough translation, one of the kids asks if things will be okay and the other says that they’ll be fine because “That’s what Five Weenies told us after all!” This broke me. “Five Weenies” refers to Shoto Todoroki. As funny as this should be, hearing that Shoto, the one who arguably got mentally scared the most in this whole battle, still gives those kids hope that everything will be okay... I just don’t know what to say. I’m glad Shoto kept those kid’s spirits alive (Bakugo did too; neither are visibly in this chapter for some reason), but he is by no means “fine”. #GiveShotoTodorokiTherapy2020

•And finally All For One. Fuck this guy. All that death and destruction and he wants more. The translation’s still rough, but based on what he says in the end, I think we are going to get a Prison Break Arc. He says “Go free my main body.” to the Nomus AFO is still in Tartarus. Guess who else is there? Stain, Overhaul (the Ultra Analysis said that he got prosthetics or something for his arms and his Quirk adapted to that) , Moonfish, Kurogiri, I think Muscular, and plenty of other villains. Horikoshi hinted that Moonfish might come back (he was apparently going to executed, but idk...) and the preview says “The worst is yet to come”... Yeah, this war is over. We’re really only just beginning.

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commentaryvorg · 3 years ago

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Digimon Savers Commentary Episode 5 - Break into the Digital World! Drimogemon’s Trap!

In this episode, both Tohma and Masaru separately enter the Digital World to resolve unfinished business with the Digimon they failed to stop last episode. While there, they meet up in a perilous situation and end up bonding, learning to respect each other and work together at last.

Since this episode follows on directly from the events of the last one, we start with a recap of last episode. This is a rare thing for now as most of these early episodes are self-contained events, but it’ll soon become very regular once we get into the series’ overarching plot.

There’s nothing particularly interesting about the recaps; the narration is done by a non-character narrator, and they sometimes tend to show far more clips than necessary to remind people of the relevant things that happened. I often just skip them, though since for the purposes of this commentary I’ll be obligated to watch every single part of an episode to comment on the full experience, I will probably end up moaning about how unnecessarily long they eventually shift into being.

Narrator: “To fulfil his duty, Tohma went to the Digital World to chase down Drimogemon.”

It’s interesting that the narration frames it this way, since disobeying very strict orders isn’t exactly what one would usually consider fulfilling a duty to the organisation that gave him those orders. And yet, this also is to do with Tohma’s very strong sense of duty and need to complete every job perfectly.

Anyway, as we get back into events happening in the present, please appreciate this Very Done Yoshino Face as she realises that Tohma’s gone and endangered himself by going to the Digital World alone and she’s going to get in trouble for it.

As it happens, Masaru and Agumon have got the exact same idea into their heads of disobeying orders and sneaking into the Digital World to finish things with Drimogemon. While Tohma was legitimately very good at the stealth aspect of this plan, Masaru and Agumon’s idea of stealth is, uh… not so great.

Masaru: “Successful infiltration!”

Agumon: “We’re so smooth, Aniki!”

Yep. The smoothest.

Yoshino: “What are you doing.”

Naturally, Yoshino has very much noticed them. The subs put a question mark here, but I’m using my judgement to not include it, because her voice is so deadpan and I love her.

Masaru: “Tohma did a Digital Dive? Damn it, he got away before us!”

Yoshino: “Before?”

Agumon: “Nothing, he’s just talking to himself.”

Yoshino does seem to be genuinely rather wrapped up in trying to deal with the Tohma situation and bring him back, because she doesn’t appear to pick up on the obvious implication of Masaru’s slip-up here (and the obvious only reason they’d be sneaking in in the middle of the night like this in the first place).

Yoshino: “Doing a Dive when the equipment hasn’t even been tested on humans…”

Huh, interesting. I guess this particular version of the Digital Gate equipment that DATS has is newer, then, which tracks.

Yoshino manages to detect the signal from Tohma’s Digivice, but before she can use that to bring him back, the signal is lost.

Masaru: “Really. Well isn’t that a pity.”

Masaru sounds so incredibly (not) concerned here. Though I’m sure this isn’t him genuinely not even caring if Tohma dies; he just assumes Tohma can handle himself and doesn’t see this as his problem at all.

Yoshino: “Listen to me! It’s dangerous!”

Masaru: “That doesn’t matter! I’m just going there to settle my fight!”

Yoshino: “Who cares about your fight? You’re just going to make things worse!”

I mean, it seems like Tohma cares about this fight just as much as Masaru does, actually, if in a somewhat different way. We have two stubborn idiots refusing to let this go here, not just one.

Masaru wanders into the Dive chamber, and, naturally, doesn’t have a clue how to start it up. Yoshino seems quite willing to leave and not help him with this, until he and Agumon start the appropriately Masaru approach of hitting the machine to try and get it to work. (We saw how successful that approach was last episode.)

Masaru: “You think I’ll just sit back while that guy gets all the action?”

Obviously, Masaru is not exactly thinking this through here; he just wants to somehow get to finish his fight before Tohma can do it for him, damn it!

Since Masaru and Agumon are clearly not about to be sensible and stop trying to break the equipment, Yoshino has no choice but to give in.

Lalamon: “Yoshino, are you sure about this?”

Yoshino: “Letting him have his way is better than a broken machine and Tohma stuck over there…”

It really is only because Tohma went first that Masaru is able to get his way here. A broken machine that can be fixed later would be better than Masaru throwing himself into the unknown, but a broken machine while Tohma is stuck over there is not okay at all.

Yoshino: “Listen! I’m sending you the co-ordinates where we lost Tohma. Make sure to bring him back, okay?”

Masaru: “Whatever, just do it!”

Yoshino is making the best of this she can and at least using Masaru as a way to try and ensure Tohma is safe. Masaru acts like he doesn’t care – but note he also isn’t explicitly saying he definitely won’t try to help Tohma and will leave him to fend for himself no matter what.

Yoshino: “I can’t help you when you get to the other side.”

Masaru: “Like I even need it.”

Yoshino: “Oh, really.”

Obviously. Masaru is a tough independent fighter who can definitely throw himself into a completely different world without a clue what he’s doing and manage just fine. Being a liiittle cocky there, Masaru. (Exactly as much as Tohma was when he sent himself over knowing he’d have no backup.) And I love how Yoshino isn’t buying it for a second.

Yoshino: “Return to where you first entered by 0500. That’s where I’ll bring you both back.”

Apparently they need to be in a specific location in order for the Dive equipment to work in reverse (since there isn’t a big handy machine with a chamber in it on the Digital World side). Yoshino was briefly attempting to pull Tohma back earlier before she lost his signal, so I guess that was when he was still within the range of the reverse-transport?

Masaru: “Bah, it’s like having a curfew.”

Haha. Something Masaru is probably quite used to, since he is only fourteen and his mother must worry about what he gets up to a lot. He did mention having to sneak out of the house to come to DATS last episode, which I surmised was not because DATS was a secret to Sayuri but rather just because it was late.

Masaru looks at his Digivice, which has a clock feature telling us it’s 0:33 right now. Yoshino apparently expects him to navigate a completely unfamiliar world, find Tohma (and also defeat the Drimogemon because she knows he’s going to want to do that even if she’d rather he didn’t bother), and get back to where he arrived, within four and a half hours. That seems a little bit tight – why couldn’t she just let him have as long as he needs and just wait to pull him and Tohma back whenever they appear back in range?

The reason, I imagine, is that she’s really hoping she can get this all wrapped up before the morning shift at DATS starts and Satsuma finds out what’s been going on here. I don’t blame her.

Agumon: “Aniki, I’m kinda nervous…”

Masaru: “Don’t get scared now, idiot.”

I like how Masaru is admonishing Agumon for getting scared not as if he’s being a coward or anything like that, but just as if he’s being an idiot. Obviously if they let themselves get scared and hesitate, that might get in the way of them winning their fight! It’s like Masaru is thinking of “getting scared” less in terms of the initial emotion that you can’t help feeling, but in terms of whether you choose to let it control you, or you just push it aside and press on anyway. Anyone who wouldn’t want to do the latter is an idiot, right?

Agumon: “You sure this is okay?”

Masaru: “You think I know?”

As the countdown to transfer gets close to zero and the energy starts swirling around them, I love the tiny little hint that Masaru is actually just as nervous about this as Agumon is – he has no idea if this is gonna be okay or not either! – and is just very stubbornly refusing to show it.

As we briefly see here, moving from one world to another involves travelling through a trippy computery in-between void. Future trips to and from the Digital World in the series will (usually, with one notable exception) skip over this part, but we can assume that it’s a thing that happens every time.

The opening also contains a shot of the characters going through this void between worlds. Yoshino doesn’t head to the Digital World herself in this episode, of course, but she will in time.

Masaru: “This is the Digital World? Cool… The sky and the ground are upside-down!”

I like how Masaru is totally willing to buy that the Digital World really is this weird.

Agumon: “Aniki… You’re the one who’s upside-down.”

Masaru: “I knew that.”

…Rather than the much more likely option that he’s just a huge ridiculous dork.

(The subs say “I knew that” like Masaru’s trying to save face, but the word he says in Japanese could also translate as “Oh, I see,” as if he isn’t even trying to hide how he genuinely thought the Digital World was upside-down for a second. That doofus.)

Agumon: “It’s my first time seeing it, too.”

Masaru: “But you’re a Digimon, aren’t you?”

Agumon: “Yeah, but I’ve been in DATS all my life.”

Yep, just like he said in the first episode about not remembering anything but being in DATS. Seems like, unlike the rampaging Digimon they deal with, Agumon came to the human world while he was not exactly “alive”, as such.

They wander through the Digital World for a while, marvelling at some of its weirdness. Circuit board patterns in the sky! Pixelated rivers! All sorts of Digimon walking and bouncing and flying around!

Masaru: “We’re looking for that mole thing. If we keep walking, we should come across a clue or something.”

Man, Masaru, you sure thought this through and planned things out real good.

Agumon: “What about Tohma?”

[cut to the DATS control room]

Yoshino: “‘Leave him, he’ll figure something out on his own.’ …If he said that, what’ll we do?”

Lalamon: “You’re overthinking it.”

[cut back to the Digital World]

Masaru: “Leave him, he’ll figure something out on his own.”

Oh dear. Yoshino has already got Masaru pretty figured out and knew full well he wasn’t likely to take looking for Tohma that seriously. Though, to be fair, it is pretty reasonable to assume that Tohma can figure something out on his own. Masaru wouldn’t admit this just yet, but this is him having faith in Tohma’s capabilities! If Masaru had reason to believe that Tohma was definitely in life-threatening danger he couldn’t get out of by himself, I’m sure he wouldn’t be so nonchalant about this.

As Masaru and Agumon explore more Digital World weirdness – more stuff in the sky! Digital plants! A crystalline colosseum-looking thing that’s actually a Chekhov’s Gun for this episode! – a particular piece of BGM is playing that evokes a sense of grand exploration and discovery, as you’d expect for this moment. This piece happens to be called Savers’ “Main Theme”, which was a little surprising to me when I saw its name on the soundtrack. You’d expect this series’ main theme to be something more actiony, in fitting with all the focus on fighting and the way Masaru is. But maybe a more discovery-like piece is actually quite appropriate for what the overall themes of this story are.

Agumon: “But it feels kinda nostalgic.”

An interesting comment from Agumon here. Though he doesn’t consciously remember anything about the Digital World because he was born in DATS, it seems like he has a subconscious sense of familiarity with it. As we’ve seen every time DATS defeats a Digimon, they don’t die and are simply turned into eggs and “reborn” – so maybe this is a sign of Agumon’s previous life, in which he did live in the Digital World, still vaguely there with him even though the conscious memories of it are lost.

As fun as showing off Digital World weirdness is, we soon get to the point as Drimogemon happens to pop out of a cliff face nearby. Which, yes, is kind of arbitrarily convenient. But I will take this any day over them wandering aimlessly having unnecessary filler adventures for episodes on end before getting to the actual point that the story is here for.

It also may make some reasonable amount of sense, actually. Masaru was sent to where Tohma was last seen, and it’s likely that Tohma deliberately sent himself somewhere near where he could detect Drimogemon. Tohma sending himself over here with absolutely no idea where to find a single Digimon among an entire world would have been incredibly stupid, after all, and I don’t think he could have justified that to himself even with his determination to fix his mistake. Given that, it’s not so unreasonable that Masaru would have run into Drimogemon at some point, since it was going to be somewhere near to where he arrived.

Also, while the other Digimon they’ve seen were just kind of wandering around naturally, the Drimogemon straight up crashed out of a cliffside. It’s still rampaging, exactly as they were worried about last episode, and therefore it’s even more likely that Masaru would have noticed it sooner or later with all the commotion it’s making.

Drimogemon tunnels into the ground, so naturally Masaru heads straight after it – and back at DATS, Yoshino loses his Digivice signal just like she lost Tohma’s. So apparently these signals can be picked up through the boundary between worlds, but not if someone is in another world and also underground. Uhhh, okay then.

This also means that presumably the reason she lost Tohma’s signal is because he went underground while trying to track Drimogemon, not because he was necessarily in any severe danger.

Lalamon: “This may be the worst…”

I’m amused by Lalamon borrowing Yoshino’s catchphrase, but hedging her bets on it a little bit. Maybe it’s not actually the worst! Maybe.

Satsuma: “What are you doing?”

Yoshino: “Searching for an idiot! Geez, why me?”

Yoshino is so focused on frustratedly searching for Masaru’s signal that she doesn’t even register that Satsuma and Kudamon have shown up at first, which is probably the exact thing she was really hoping wasn’t going to happen until Masaru and Tohma were back. Nope, turns out this definitely is the worst.

Back in the Digital World, Masaru’s tried-and-true strategy of tracking Drimogemon down by simply following it through its own tunnel has led them into a huge underground cavern.

Masaru: “Doesn’t matter where this is! Let’s go, Agumon!”

As before, Masaru doesn’t care about the location so long as he gets to fight! Or, perhaps, he’s trying to tell himself the location doesn’t matter, because on some level he’s realising that Drimogemon is very much in its element and has the advantage here. Which it does, as Masaru and Agumon quickly learn they’re not very good at Whack-a-giant-Digimole.

Bear in mind that Drimogemon is not saying a word, just like it hasn’t since it grew bigger last episode. It’s still in that mindless rampaging state, and so it seems to have no issue with straight-up collapsing the ground underneath Masaru and Agumon. That would be going a bit far if this were a Digimon that was still properly in control of itself.

Agumon: “Aniki!”

Masaru: “Idiot, don’t get scared over something like this!”

Masaru is still trying to set an example for his follower and insist that there’s no point in getting scared, even though being in an underground cave-in is in fact a pretty legitimate reason to be scared right now.

They both fall into a pretty deep-looking chasm but manage to somehow land reasonably unhurt, because shounen anime. Agumon’s awkward legs-in-the-air pose he landed in is pretty cute.

It turns out that Tohma and Gaomon are down here too. Seems like Drimogemon took the same approach when it was faced with them.

Masaru: “What’s this? Does that mean the same thing happened to you?” [he and Agumon burst out laughing] “I see, you’re just like us!”

I really like Masaru’s reaction here. He’s not trying to be mean-spirited; if you listen to the tone of his laughter, there’s nothing malicious or mocking about it. It’s just such a huge relief for him to finally be seeing proof that Tohma’s human. He can fail sometimes and mess up in ways as equally ridiculous and undignified as Masaru. He’s not actually some kind of infuriatingly perfect walking supercomputer who can never do wrong like Masaru’s kind of been resentfully seeing him as. He’s just a person.

The relief of that realisation comes out as laughter not because Masaru’s really trying to mock Tohma for failing, but just because of the elation of finally being able to see Tohma as an equal. “You’re just like us”, indeed.

Tohma’s response is also great. He’s not getting frustrated and snapping back at Masaru like he often would in the previous episode, because he must be able to tell that Masaru isn’t actually trying to insult him here. He’s just embarrassed to be unable to deny the fact that he really is more of a fallible human person than he would have ideally liked Masaru to see him as.

Gaomon, meanwhile, the good dog that he is, has been carefully excavating rocks and found a potential way out. As Tohma heads towards it, he stumbles, because his leg was injured from the fall.

Masaru: “Hey, you’re hurt!”

Tohma: [grimacing] “This barely counts as an injury.”

Tohma clearly doesn’t want to give Masaru even more reason to think he’s human and fallible and might need help or something. But Masaru doesn’t care about Tohma’s stubbornness and immediately moves to put himself under Tohma’s arm to support him.

Masaru: “Here.”

Tohma: “Stop that. I don’t need you to help—”

Masaru: “When you’re a man… When you’re a man, there are some things you just have to *do* despite yourself.”

I love Masaru so much. This is the first time we’re getting to see that his manliness thing is about a whole lot more than just fighting. It’s about honour, and integrity, and simply being a good person. The “despite yourself” is because he still doesn’t really like Tohma just yet and there’s a part of him that stubbornly wants to continue to be irritable and contrary towards him for the hell of it – but since Tohma’s injured and needs help, Masaru’s principles about doing the right thing in this kind of situation are more important to him than anything, so he can put that petty stubbornness aside. And these principles of Masaru’s come from exactly the same place as the reason he always gives it his all in fights!

(All those parts earlier in the episode where I confidently asserted that there’s no way Masaru actually wouldn’t have cared if Tohma had got himself killed, and that if he’d believed Tohma was in genuine danger then he wouldn’t have just left him to his own devices? Yeah, this is why. Masaru is Good.)

Masaru’s manly speech was mostly about himself, but it also works as advice to Tohma in this situation. He could continue to try and be stubborn and prideful and insist he doesn’t need help from anyone, but when there’s someone right here offering to help him – someone who was until recently at his throat, no less – what kind of a dick move would it be to reject that offer? Accepting Masaru’s help is the right thing for Tohma to do as well, despite his own pride. And he does.

Agumon: “You’re making me cry, Aniki!”

Agumon also approves of his aniki’s manly principles, like a good follower should. Aniki is teaching him so much.

Masaru: “Let’s get outta here first. Then we can think about other things.”

Implicit in Masaru’s statement here is “then we can get back to arguing with each other if we want” – but I like how he isn’t even mentioning that here, because right now it isn’t about that. Their lives are in danger, they need to help each other and work together to get out, and so nothing else matters for the time being.

This turns into a brief cute montage of the four of them helping each other make their way through the tunnels, which turn out to be quite the underground labyrinth. A lot of time implicitly passes here, and while I doubt Masaru and Tohma are saying very much to each other, this is no doubt making them bond a bit. They’re finally spending some time seeing each other as a person and an equal, rather than as some kind of infuriating representation of everything opposite to their own approach that brings out all their insecurities.

Meanwhile at DATS, Yoshino is indeed getting fiercely chewed out by Satsuma.

Yoshino: “But that was all I could do…”

It really was, or Masaru would have broken the equipment and left Tohma stranded there! She did the absolute best thing she could under the circumstances! Alas, Yoshino doesn’t seem to quite have it in her to stand up for herself and more clearly express this.

Kudamon: “Instead of berating them, we should find out where they are quickly!”

At least Kudamon has the right idea. And I imagine Satsuma understands this, too – he’s probably only so furious at Yoshino because he’s worried about Tohma and Masaru. He likely would have chewed them out if he could, since this is absolutely far more their fault than Yoshino’s. But they aren’t available for him to yell at, so poor Yoshino got the brunt of it instead.

Masaru: “Hey, why didn’t you evolve Gaomon and break out?”

Back in the Digital World, Masaru asking this suggests he’s been thinking himself about, naturally, the most straightforward way to get out of here – he’d just evolve Agumon to GeoGreymon and smash their way out, if only he could!

But it says a lot that Masaru is then also applying his mindset to Tohma and assuming that he’s probably thought of the same thing, hence asking why he hasn’t done so, since Tohma can evolve his partner more easily. Masaru’s starting to empathise with Tohma and see him as a person!

(I guess technically Masaru might be able to get his Digisoul by turning around and punching Gaomon in the face? But it’s entirely possible that it wouldn’t work against a Digimon that’s not actively trying to fight him. Or, even if it did, that’d be a dick move to suddenly punch someone who’s not ready to fight and defend themselves, so I doubt Masaru would want to do that.)

Tohma demonstrates why he didn’t just evolve Gaomon by asking Gaomon to punch the wall, showing how dangerously unstable these tunnels are. Which is, uh, something he really could have just explained with words rather than taking a risk like that. But then again, Masaru is definitely someone who learns things better through actions rather than words, so maybe this is Tohma beginning to appreciate that!

They reach another fork in the tunnel and disagree on which path they should take. Tohma explains that the path he’s choosing isn’t random; he’s been dropping coins on the ground as they’ve been moving, and the path Masaru picked has a coin in it, indicating that they’ve been that way before.

(This is a 100 yen coin, by the way, which is roughly equal to one US dollar, and Tohma’s apparently been dropping loads of them. Could he not have used, I dunno, just 1 yen coins? Someone has more money than he knows what to do with.)

Masaru: “Hey, you’re pretty smart!”

I like how Masaru remarks on this like it’s the first time he’s noticing this, as if he wasn’t already infuriatingly aware that Tohma’s a straight-up genius. This is Tohma displaying his smarts in a low-key, down-to-earth way that a regular person like Masaru can understand and appreciate is a useful way to go about things, rather than a way that makes him just come across as incomprehensibly, unreachably perfect.

Tohma: “As I said, I’m not like you.”

Tohma’s still taking a little longer to warm up to Masaru and acknowledge that they might actually be similar to each other in a lot of ways, since he insists on stressing this point. Come on, Tohma! Masaru’s already started to admit that maybe you’re more like him than he would have liked you to be a day ago; you should start closing that gap, too!

Masaru makes a face in response to this comment. Apparently he’s agreeing with my sentiment about Tohma being a little too unnecessarily uptight here.

Agumon: “Aniki… When are we gonna get outta here?!”

Masaru: “Don’t worry! Keep up your spirits and we’ll use it to work this out somehow!”

Tohma: “Spirit has nothing to do with it, but we *are* heading up.”

I love the contrast between Masaru’s baseless emotion-driven optimism, and Tohma preferring to base his optimism in actual facts. Both are good ways to be optimistic!

Masaru: “You’re really unbearable.”

Tohma: “You too.”

They say this, but they both sound a lot less vitriolic about it than they did in the previous episodes. They still have huge differences in their approach to things that inherently frustrate each other, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be beginning to respect each other anyway!

Masaru and Tohma reach an opening into a wider cavern, but they’re too high up for it to be safe to drop down into it. They’re about to turn back when Drimogemon shows up in the lower cavern.

Masaru: “He’s out of luck to meet us here! Let’s go, Agumon!”

Yes, out of luck, this is definitely the least advantageous possible position that Drimogemon could be meeting them in. Masaru is still being Masaru and paying no heed to the environment; he sees Drimogemon as being out of luck to meet him at all, because hey, this means they don’t have to go searching for it later!

Tohma points out the incredible disadvantage they’re at, including reminding Masaru that it’s not safe for their partners to evolve in here, and insists they should keep heading for the surface and leave it be for now. But Masaru is having none of it.

Masaru: “Not gonna!”

I absolutely adore his ridiculous grumpy walk towards Tohma. It’s so perfect for getting across his stubborn attitude here. No. Masaru is gonna fight the thing and no amount of logic or safety is gonna stop him.

Masaru: “I’m not gonna run or hide! A man takes his fights head-on!”

Also, running away at a time like this isn’t what a man does, according to him, and it’s already become pretty clear just how important sticking to that principle is to Masaru.

So he pulls Tohma with him to the edge of the tunnel and straight-up leaps down onto Drimogemon’s back, with Agumon and Gaomon frantically jumping after them.

(Tohma grimaces in pain as he lands on its back. Yeah, considering his leg injury, ouch.)

Masaru: “Yo.”

Masaru climbs forward onto Drimogemon’s head and has this delightfully audacious moment.

Then, realising they’re there, Drimogemon goes mad trying to shake them off. When they keep clinging on, it rushes towards the nearest wall trying to tunnel away. Masaru tugs on its fur like reins to redirect it to tunnel where he wants it to – in a more upwards direction, since they soon emerge out on the surface.

(It’s a little questionable how Masaru and co. aren’t just utterly crushed between Drimogemon’s back and the earth as it digs its tunnel, but then again it’s questionable how Drimogemon’s drill even manages to drill out a tunnel big enough for its entire body through what seems like not earth but solid rock in the first place. Shush, it’s anime physics; it’s fine.)

Tohma: (He… Did he plan all of this from the start? But wait…)

And here’s Tohma applying his mindset to Masaru, imagining that Masaru might have planned this! He’s, uh… not precisely correct on that one, but it says a lot that he’s even considering it at all.

Rather than jump off its back and fight it here, Masaru keeps pulling on Drimogemon’s fur to direct its panicked running.

Masaru: “Yahoo! This is just like a rodeo!”

(And he’s having a whale of a time while doing it, too, the huge dork.)

Tohma: “Where are you taking us?”

Masaru: “You’re the one who said to think of a good battleground!”

Look at Masaru actually thinking about this and applying a decent amount of strategy! He’s really not that bad at doing so when someone prompts him to actually consider it; he’s just usually so raring to jump straight in that it doesn’t occur to him to do so.

The “good battleground” in question is the crystalline colosseum Masaru noticed earlier – just the kind of place where Drimogemon won’t be able to dig. Inside the crystal arena, Masaru gives it a nice big punch before leaping off its back, and its evolution time.

…Except, it turns out, it’s also about to be evolution time for Drimogemon. For some reason. It starts twitching and shaking like it’s having some kind of adverse reaction to something, but I cannot come up with any possible reason why it would be doing so. The robbers who may or may not have been (read: they definitely were) responsible for it growing bigger and rampaging in the first place back in the human world are long gone and out of the picture. This does not make any sense to me. Maybe this is just something that happens if a Digimon that’s grown bigger but not evolved is left to rampage unchecked for long enough? I don’t think we see any other instances in the series that would contradict this, but this is definitely me reaching here.

Meanwhile at DATS, Miki and Megumi have also been called in to help search for the two reckless idiots, and they finally manage to relocate their signals – probably because they’re above ground again now. But they also detect Drimogemon evolving, which, for some reason, activates DATS’s alarm. You know, the one that’s supposed to be for Digimon appearing in the human world, because it’s hardly like a Digimon evolving back in the Digital World is usually anything they need to worry about.

Drimogemon finishes evolving, and it’s now… a Digmon. (Dig, without the second “I”; yes, this is very easy to awkwardly misread as just Digimon, I know.) And, uh, Digimon evolution level facts: this shouldn’t be a stronger Digimon.

If Drimogemon, an Adult-level like Gaogamon and GeoGreymon, had evolved upwards like you’d expect into the next proper evolution level, it’d have reached Perfect level. And, as I’ve mentioned with regards to evolution levels, they are each ridiculously exponentially stronger than the last, to the point that even GeoGreymon and Gaogamon working together would not have stood a chance against even a single Perfect-level.

So, well, obviously that couldn’t actually happen here, because Masaru and Tohma need to win this fight. Instead, Drimogemon just evolved sideways into a bonus gimmicky evolution level called Armour level, which, from its appearances in other series, seems to be roughly just as strong as Adult. This is not actually any significantly more of a threat at all.

Tohma: “It’s Digmon. He’s far more powerful and has a higher mobility than Drimogemon.”

I guess we’re meant to assume that Armour levels work somewhat differently in this Digimon universe and are in fact just a little bit stronger than Adult, while not nearly as much so as Perfect? Sure, I guess; the general mechanics of Digimon don’t always work exactly the same in different universes.

(Still, Tohma conspicuously does not mention Digmon’s evolution level and explain the fact that it just evolved more sideways than upwards, because the writers don’t want you to notice how awkward this is.)

This whole thing, nonsensical DATS alarm and all, is a hilariously transparent attempt by the writers to inject more artificial tension into this situation, and, I dunno, to maybe showcase a different Monster of the Week since we’ve been dealing with Drimogemon for two episodes now. It’s very silly. Drimogemon should have just stayed as a Drimogemon and everything would have been fine.

At least this does mean, thanks to Digmon’s apparent higher defences and mobility, we get GeoGreymon not winning the fight in a single attack. (Though my brain looks at Digmon and sees something that’s clearly a Bug/Steel-type and is very bothered by how an obviously Fire-type attack like Mega Flame doesn’t harm it at all. Shush, I was raised on Pokémon; I can’t help but see things this way.) It puts up a decent fight for a while, dodging or withstanding their attacks and hitting back, which at least is a refreshing change from the one-attack victories we’ve seen before – because there’s a narrative point to be made in this fight that wouldn’t work if they won straight away.

…I still think this could have been made to work just fine with Drimogemon turning out to be tougher and have more mobility above ground than they’d been expecting, though. It shouldn’t have needed to evolve sideways for this fight to be a challenge.

So anyway, after a little bit of them not getting anywhere in defeating it, Tohma reminds Masaru of the part last episode where GeoGreymon and Gaogamon’s attacks collided from opposing directions and cancelled each other out.

Tohma: “But what if the opposite happened?”

Masaru: “What’d happen?”

Tohma: “Let’s find out!”

Look at Tohma getting into the Masaru spirit of things! He has an idea, but unlike his usual carefully-calculated strategies, he doesn’t know exactly how this one’s going to play out. And yet he’s going for it anyway!

Tohma: “Isn’t that your style?”

Masaru: “Now you’re getting it!”

Not only that, but Tohma knows this is him pulling something Masaru would pull, and he’s okay with it! And of course Masaru enthusiastically approves.

Believer kicks in here, by the way, not earlier when they were evolving. We’re still hearing it every episode for now, but even then, the music directors know better than to just blindly throw it in the moment an evolution animation happens, regardless of context. They’re deliberately saving it for the actually triumphant moments, like all “evolution” songs should be.

Masaru: “The timing has to be perfect.”

Meanwhile, Masaru is taking a leaf out of Tohma’s book and caring about little strategic details like timing! Look at them both go.

On their command, GeoGreymon and Gaogamon fire their Mega Flame and Spiral Blow attacks together in the same direction at the same time, which turns them into a huge flaming tornado that engulfs Digmon and overwhelms it.

Tohma: “The opposing attacks didn’t clash… they fused! Their combined powers enhanced each other and became amplified to more than before!”

Which, though I don’t know if Tohma himself quite realises this or not, is also a very fitting metaphor for his and Masaru’s methods, just like what happened last episode. If they oppose each other, all they do is get in each other’s way and achieve nothing at all, but if they work together, they can each complement the other’s skills to become something greater than either of them could be on his own!

Masaru: “Who cares about that? All that matters now is… he dies!”

Meanwhile, of course Masaru doesn’t care about figuring out the sciencey logistics of how this is working (and he certainly cares even less about possibly making some kind of metaphor). He just knows that it’s awesome and it means they win.

(The “he dies!” is, uh, rather dark, especially considering it’s only being turned into an egg, but I’m pretty sure that’s a subs thing and that Masaru doesn’t actually directly reference death here. The subbers were probably just going for something that sounds a bit snappier than “he’s defeated”, which I imagine is closer to what Masaru actually literally said.)

As Masaru starts celebrating their win like the adorable excited dork he is, GeoGreymon and Gaogamon give a small smile to each other, and it’s cute.

Tohma, meanwhile, isn’t quite the type to join in with Masaru’s loud celebrations, but he has a smile to himself and is obviously happy about this outcome as well, in his much more subdued way.

We cut to sun…set? Huh, now that I think about it, I guess this part of the Digital World runs on a different timezone to Japan in the human world, because it was daytime the whole time over here while it was night in Japan. Maybe this world even has an entirely different day length.

Masaru, Tohma and their devolved partners are heading back to the recall point – with Masaru still supporting Tohma’s walking, because he is still good and Tohma probably still needs it.

Tohma: “When you jumped down towards Drimogemon… Did you plan right from the start to use him so we could get to the surface?”

Tohma only asks this now even though they’ve been implicitly walking back from the fight for a while. It seems he tried to tell himself that it probably was all planned, but the thought kept nagging at him – was it really, though? This is Masaru, after all – that he eventually just had to ask and confirm it.

Masaru: “Nah, that was just spirit! But the result was great, wasn’t it?!”

Aaaand of course it wasn’t all planned from the start. Of course not. But, hey, there was still deliberate intent and strategy involved as it was happening. It seems Masaru can be pretty good at the whole seat-of-your-pants, make-it-up-as-you-go type of strategising when he needs to be!

Tohma: (I hate to admit it, but I can’t analyse his ability with my intellect.)

And that’s okay, Tohma! This is Tohma acknowledging that Masaru’s approach is nothing like his, but that it still works just as well and is just as valid a way of going about things. He’s opening his mind to more than just his very rigid way of thinking!

Tohma stops in their walking and… offers Masaru a fist-bump. I really like how he’s the one to offer here, after Masaru was the first to offer support to Tohma earlier and Tohma was still being kind of hesitant about fully accepting Masaru as being similar to him. He’s making up for that now and closing the rest of the gap himself, just like he began to do in the battle when he suggested a Masaru-like risky strategy!

Masaru accepts it without question, of course. He probably already felt like they’d grown enough of an unspoken bond from their experiences that it didn’t need to be said, otherwise I imagine he’d have already made this gesture himself sooner. But I like that it didn’t occur to him, so that we could see Tohma be the one to choose to initiate this.

They are friends now and it is good!

Agumon: “Aniki’s got himself another follower!”

That’s, uh, not quite what this is, Agumon. But it’s adorable that Agumon jumps to seeing things that way, because to him his aniki is just The Coolest and he can’t imagine anyone else ever being his equal. So if Aniki’s gained the respect of someone new, that must mean he’s also become an aniki to them, right?

Gaomon: “Master is no follower!”

Meanwhile, maybe Gaomon feels pretty similarly about his master, too. He is, after all, a very good dog.

Safely back at DATS, Masaru and Tohma and their partners have the grace to look appropriately sheepish about this whole thing as Satsuma yells at them. Yoshino is also there and also looks like she’s getting yelled at along with them, which seems unfair to me – she already bore her share of the blame earlier, and it was far less her fault than theirs!

Kudamon: “You were able to make it back this time, but did you think about what would’ve happen if you’d failed? You still know nothing of the Digital World!”

It’s pretty interesting that Kudamon says this to them, considering that he knows far more about the Digital World than anyone else in this room and yet hasn’t ever thought to inform his agents about it in case something like this ever happened.

Satsuma drops his anger and turns his back to them before finally complimenting them on managing to return. Despite his sternness, he does care about his subordinates! I really do think he was only so angry because he was worried about them never making it back. Going there in the first place was monumentally reckless on both their parts, but Masaru and Tohma did at least handle things quite impressively while they were there, and that deserves to be acknowledged.

(Speaking of worried, I imagine Masaru is very much not planning on telling his mother about how he nearly went and got himself stranded in another world, which is definitely for the best. Poor Sayuri would be terrified just thinking about how close that came to happening.)

Overall thoughts

When I first watched Savers, I think there was a part of me that expected the Masaru-Tohma rivalry to drag on unnecessarily long, like for ten episodes or more, and probably become kind of stale and tiresome before it finally got resolved. But no! Savers doesn’t waste any time with this mini-arc. We’ve seen Masaru’s insecurities brought out by Tohma; we’ve seen Tohma’s insecurities brought out by Masaru; now it’s time to shove them into a situation where they can learn to get along, so that the story can move on with them actually working together.

And, really, it was never going to take Masaru and Tohma that long to reach this point. They always had so much in common along with their differences, and they’re both fundamentally decent people despite their tendency to be very stubbornly insistent about their own way of doing things. All it took was putting them in a situation where they can come to see the other as a person and not have their own issues brought out by the other’s very presence, and each one was always going to see that there’s plenty about the other that he can respect.

So I like this episode a lot, because I think it pulls this off really well. There’s a lot more to it than just the basic premise of “put them in danger so they’re forced to work together” – there’s all sorts of little moments I’ve talked about here that show each of them is slowly beginning to see the other as human and come to understand and respect his different way of thinking. The writers really thought about this, and about these characters. Savers’ character writing is great.

And yeah, the Drimogemon evolving into Digmon is pretty silly, but that’s only a small thing. The conclusion of the metaphor started last episode with GeoGreymon and Gaogamon’s attacks is a narratively appropriate way to end the fight, at least.

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[Dub comparison]

#digimon #digimon savers #masaru daimon #tohma h norstein

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