#people listened to plastic love a couple years ago and decided that was the only japanese song

[xbuster]

Why do so many people think City Pop is this only Japanese musical genre 😭

[dycefic]

Have An Evil Day

No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’

Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.

But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.

I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it.  They didn’t give me any trouble.

I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.

I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.

We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.

I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.

And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.

“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”

He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.

“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”

He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”

“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”

“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”

He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”

“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”

He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.

About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”

Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”

“Biohazard.”

“Oh. Class three?”

“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”

He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”

“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”

He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”

I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.

We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.

I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)

By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.

“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”

“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”

“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”

“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.

“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”

“Sir, I know you’re not – “

“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”

I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”

Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”

Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”

I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”

“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”

I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”

“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”

“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.

“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”

Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”

“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”

I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.

It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”

Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”

Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”

“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”

“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”

Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”

“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”

He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”

“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”

He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”

“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.

I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”

“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”

Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”

Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.

She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”

Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”

“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”

He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”

“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”

Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”

“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”

“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.

“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”

He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”

“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”

He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”

“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”

Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”

“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”

Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”

“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”

He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”

We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”

He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”

“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”

“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”

“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”

“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”

“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”

“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”

His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”

There was a long pause.

“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.

“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”

We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”

“You want me to join the bad guys?”

“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”

“That’s a regular concern?”

“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”

“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”

“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “

Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”

“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.

“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”

Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.

Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.

But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.

Have an evil day!

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 06

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7.4k [6/6]

notes: we’ve reached the end at last!!! thanks for sticking around through all the sporadic updates, and i hope you enjoy this final chapter!

warnings: some soft, soft smut.

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

The day before your scheduled return to Seoul, your parents decide to throw a joint party with the Jeons. From your bedroom window, you can see the plastic tables and chairs scattered across your adjoining lawns, the tarps and poles that will soon become makeshift pavilions lying in the grass. Though a row of low bushes divides your property, a small stone footpath weaves between the green leaves. You watch Mr. Jeon make his way into your yard, joining your father to unfurl a sign that’s emblazoned with Bon Voyage, {Name}! in bright blue print.

“Noona!” Jimin bursts into your bedroom with zero preamble, the door slamming into the wall behind it. You jump at the sudden intrusion, and flinch when he bounds across the room in two steps and grabs you by the shoulders.

“Ow, Chim,” you grumble, trying and failing to push him away. “Knock much?”

“Help,” he whines, trying to pull you to your feet. “I put too much salt in the marinade, and I just spilled Coke all over the counter. Please come help me.”

You sigh as he casts you the most pathetic look he’s capable of mustering, complete with a quivering bottom lip. Wiggling out of his iron grip at last, you grab him by the wrist and drag him out of your room. “Fine,” you tell him as you pull him downstairs. “You’re lucky I like you sometimes.”

“Love you too!” Jimin singsongs. He swoops in to plant a too-wet kiss on your cheek, and when you squirm in disgust he just giggles and blows you another.

The kitchen, upon your arrival, is empty. “Where’s Mom?” you ask as you grab a rag, tossing it over to your brother so he can clean up the spilled soda.

“She left a few minutes ago,” he replies, sopping up the mess and flinching when some splashes down from the counter onto the linoleum floor. “I think she went to the store to pick up a few things.”

“Food things?” you ask dubiously, eyeing the sizable pile of vegetables and meat on the counter. “Is this not enough? Is the entire neighborhood invited to this thing?”

“You know Mom,” he replies, shrugging. “Just let her have this. She misses having another girl in the house when you’re away. Says Dad and I gang up on her.”

You chuckle. “That sounds about right. On the bright side, though, she only has to deal with you for a few more months.”

“Jeez, that’s weird to think about.” Jimin sidles up behind you and settles his chin on your shoulder. “We’re going to be at the same university soon.”

“Yeah, because you’re a little copycat,” you tease, reaching back to flick him on the forehead. “What’s next? Are you going to start following me around the sandbox again? Come crying to me when someone’s mean to you?”

“Yeah, right.” Jimin steps back and puffs his chest out dramatically. “I’m going to protect you from all those weird college guys, remember? Who else is gonna do it if not me?”

In an instant, your mind goes to Jungkook. Your throat goes dry, and thankfully the jingle of keys in the front door saves you from needing to respond. Jimin’s attention is diverted when your mother steps through with an armful of shopping bags, and you take a moment to shove away all thoughts of your neighbor before following after your brother to help her unpack.

You haven’t seen much of Jungkook since your impromptu sleepover in his room. As your time at home winds to a close, your parents have been increasingly adamant to spend as much time together as possible. Family game nights became routine, and although Jungkook has joined you on a couple occasions, Jimin has seemingly made it his personal goal to ensure that you don’t spend a single second alone with your dark-haired neighbor. Certainly, you’ve texted a bit, but Jungkook’s been picking up more shifts at the restaurant lately and you often see him through your bedroom window returning home after a long dinner shift.

Jimin’s voice draws you out of your thoughts. “Huh?” you ask, blinking, and your brother shoots you an unimpressed look.

“I said, I’m going out back to help Dad with the grill,” he repeats. “Can you bring the cooler out?”

“Oh!” You glance over at the cooler on the ground, filled to the brim with beer and soda. Jimin has a bag of ice in his arms, and you quickly follow him out into the backyard, wheeling the cooler behind you. Together, the two of you push it into an unobtrusive corner of the back porch, and Jimin curses when he upends the bag of ice into it and spills nearly a third in the process.

“Smooth,” you remark.

“Like you could do any better,” is his reply.

It’s just after one o’clock, the sun beaming bright in the cloudless blue sky, when people begin trickling into the backyard where your father and Mr. Jeon have started grilling. You spot Taemin and Minho from where you’re perched on the porch steps, and grin when they wave and begin heading in your direction.

“Heading back to the big city so soon?” Minho asks as he comes to a stop, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re gonna miss you around here.”

“You know you’re always welcome to visit,” you tell him with a smile. “Besides, I’ll be back. I do like to see my family every now and then, you know.”

“When exactly are you leaving tomorrow? Taemin asks curiously.

“Bright and early in the morning,” you reply. “I want to have plenty of time to get settled before I start interning on Monday.”

Minho gives you a squeeze. “You’ll kill it. I know you will.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. You’re about to say more—ask about the rest of their summer plans, maybe—when you spot a familiar dark head of hair exiting the back door of the Jeons’ house. Jungkook is wearing a collared shirt the color of sunshine, the sleeves rolled to his elbows to expose vascular forearms and the silver watch on his wrist. His faded jeans have a rip in the left knee, and you swallow when your gaze automatically trails down to the defined muscle of his thigh, a peek of skin visible through the denim.

Across the yard, your eyes meet. He raises a hand in greeting, his watch glinting in the sun, and you wave back. Everything else seems to fade into the background—Taemin and Minho, the hubbub of the partygoers, even the sizzle of the grill. Jungkook is walking in your direction now, and your throat goes oddly dry at the thought of talking to him face-to-face after nearly a week of intermittent texts and occasional glimpses. Your fingers itch to run through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and your body craves the feeling of his skin against your own. You’d even settle for a simple kiss—the press of his mouth and the slick of his tongue, his palms settling on your hips or looping around to the small of your back to pull you in close.

Needless to say, it’s been far too long since you and Jungkook last slept together. You wonder, vaguely, if there’s any way the two of you might be able to sneak away from the party and head somewhere a little quieter. One last handsy makeout session in his backseat, and one last chance for him to breach your walls with his cock. One last fix of the drug called Jungkook, before you return to your life in Seoul and try to forget the boundaries you’ve crossed in the last few weeks.

Because at the end of the day, Jungkook is your brother’s best friend, and therefore is off-limits. And as if Jimin himself is listening in on your thoughts, your little brother comes bounding out of nowhere, intercepting Jungkook on his path to you and dragging him away to help make more meat skewers for the grill.

The party continues. More people arrive, and you do your best to converse with everyone between bites of food. Many family friends have come out to wish you well, most of whom you haven’t seen in several years, so you put on your best smile and weather the innumerable comments about how much you’ve grown up since you last met. Off in the distance, you spot Jungkook chatting with Junghyun, who has driven in from downtown Busan. The elder Jeon brother has already wished you good luck with your internship, pulling you into a friendly hug when he first arrived, and you would’ve had to be blind to miss Jungkook’s penetrating stare as you hugged him back.

You’re returning from a bathroom break, easing the back door shut, when you are assailed by a tangle of limbs and excited cries. You end up with a faceful of strawberry blonde hair, and laughingly groan as you extricate yourself from the hug, offering a beaming Chaeyoung, Jisoo, and Lisa a grin. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Lisa grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a little shake. “You’re leaving tomorrow! When will you be back again?”

“Winter, definitely,” you promise. “Maybe the summer too, if I don’t have anything else going on.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Jungkook again. He’s looking in your direction, his gaze flitting between the half-eaten burger in his hand and where you’re standing on the back porch with the girls, as if he doesn’t want to get caught staring. The party has been underway for nearly two hours now, and you haven’t even come close to having a conversation with your dark-haired neighbor. It seems as though anytime Jungkook comes within speaking distance, he’s interrupted by friends, family, and at one point, even his family’s dog. Gureum has been a part of Jungkook’s family for as long as you can remember, and though he’s getting rather old, he’s still happily meandering around the yard today. You’ve already given in to his pleading face twice and offered him a bit of food from your plate, and you’ve watched plenty of others do the same. A quick scan of the yard reveals that the little white dog is now fast asleep in a sunny patch of grass, and you chuckle to yourself before your gaze finds Jungkook again. Your eyes meet, just for a second.

“{Name}, honey, can you come here for a second?”

You turn at the sound of your mother’s voice. “Sure,” you tell her, excusing yourself from the group of girls to follow her inside to the kitchen. “What is it?”

Your mom hands you a pile of small paper plates and plastic cutlery. “I’m bringing out the cake,” she says. “Can you put those out for me?”

You nod, watching as she picks up the cake. It’s an impressive two-tiered confection, frosted pale purple and decorated with pink cherry blossoms and the words Bon Voyage! in flowing white script. You make sure to hold the door open for your mother as she exits the house on your heels, and duck your head in embarrassment when a few of your neighbors start clapping at your arrival.

The cake is cut and distributed, and you take your piece over to a shady spot beneath the awning of one of the pavilions your father has assembled. Jimin joins you, wiping a frosting-covered finger on your nose, and you squeal and wipe at it furiously with a napkin before taking revenge. Slowly, the afternoon progresses into early evening, and the party begins to wind to a close. Friends and neighbors begin to trickle out, wishing you well before taking their leave. At the far end of the yard, you see Jungkook talking to Chaeyoung, and wonder what the two could possibly have to say to each other before Taemin and Minho draw your attention away.

“We gotta head out,” Minho says, coming to a stop before you and pulling you into a hug.

Taemin nods, tugging you into an embrace as well. “We’ll see you again soon though, yeah? We’re definitely going to come up to visit you guys at some point.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you tell him. “You’re crashing at Jimin and Jungkook’s though. I’m not taking you in.”

“Cruel, but fair,” Minho says with a laugh. “See ya then, Noona.”

“See you.”

The two depart, and you begin gathering up your used utensils and plates, seeking about for a trash can. You smile at your dad as he walks by, and scratch a sleepy Gureum behind the ears as you pass him. Just as you’ve finally found a trash can and dropped your garbage inside, however, a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Hey, Noona.”

Your heartbeat quickens. Slowly, you turn around, coming face to face with none other than Jungkook himself. His dark hair is ruffled by the breeze, and his silver hoop earrings glint in the late afternoon sun. Tentatively, you offer him a small smile, and he hesitates for a moment before smiling back.

“Hey.”

“You said that already,” you point out, trying to quell the sudden nervousness in your belly and swallowing down whatever moisture is left in your mouth. “Fun party, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods. “Really fun. And the food was great.”

You chuckle. “Yeah. We have our dads to thank for that.”

“Definitely.”

A beat of silence passes, and then two. Jungkook is scuffing his heel against the grass, one hand darting up to scratch his ear, and you are just beginning to wonder at his uncharacteristic awkwardness when he suddenly pulls a bag from behind his back.

“Here,” he says, practically shoving it into your hands. “I—I mean, we—got you a gift. From my family. And me.”

Blinking, you peer down at the green tissue paper peeking out of the top of the bag. “Oh, wow. You… you guys really shouldn’t have.”

“It was my mom’s idea,” Jungkook mumbles, looking anywhere but at you. “You can open it now if you want, though.”

You do. Peeling back the tissue paper reveals two items inside—one of which is a lovely leather-bound planner, complete with a calendar and to-do lists and pages for notes. The other is a small canvas, and your mouth falls open when you see what’s painted across the surface.

It’s the lake house. Behind it, you can see lush green hills and trees, all bordering the rippling expanse of blue water. Jungkook has captured the scene at high noon when the sun is at its peak in the sky, glinting off the lake like diamonds. Off to one side, you spot the canoe roped to the dock.

“Wow,” you breathe, awestruck. “Jungkook, this is beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s no big deal,” he says, shrugging and scratching the back of his neck. “I had to rush it a little, between work and all. It could’ve been better.”

“It’s perfect,” you tell him, running a fingertip across the canvas. You’ve always known that Jungkook has a talent for drawing, but you’ve never seen him use paint as his medium of choice until now. “Really. I love it, Jungkook. I’m going to hang it up in my dorm as soon as I get back.”

“Back,” Jungkook echoes. “Right.”

And before you can reply—before you can even inhale to speak—he’s pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms looping around your waist and settling there.

“Good luck with everything,” he says once he’s pulled back. And then he’s turning on his heel and walking away, and you’re left to wonder whether these past few weeks were simply a passing tryst after all.

///

As it turns out, your internship is more than enough to keep your mind from straying toward a certain dark-haired young man. Two months after Jungkook left you high and dry, you’re working harder than you ever have in your life. Your mornings are early and your afternoons run into evenings more often than not. “At least you’re getting paid, though,” Namjoon points out, glancing up from where he’s sitting on the couch when you stumble into your shared dorm one particularly late night. “You could’ve been one of the unlucky bastards who got stuck doing unpaid labor at their internships.”

“Oh, good. At least they’re working me to the bone ethically,” you snort, accepting the wine he hands over. Trust Namjoon to have an extra glass at the ready. Your suitemate, despite his flaws, always seems to know when you need a pick-me-up, and you suppose you can forgive his clumsiness and messiness for that. If he keeps it up, you may even start looking past the heart attacks he causes you every time he enters the kitchen and so much as looks at a knife.

Namjoon chuckles and tops off his own wineglass. “So now what? You hungry?”

“Starving,” you admit. “What are you thinking tonight? Pizza? Chinese?”

“Thai? I’ve been craving it lately.”

“I can do Thai.” You lean in closer as he pulls up the delivery menu on his laptop, pointing to what you want before sitting back and letting him place the order. “Can you get me an iced tea, too?

“Two iced teas, coming right up,” he replies. “You wanna start thinking about tonight’s feature presentation?”

Flopping onto your side, you reach into the bag you dropped on the floor and fish out your own laptop. You select a film from Netflix as Namjoon fetches his wallet to pay for your food, and the two of you settle in to wait as the opening credits of Disney’s Hercules roll.

“I’m not a good singer,” Namjoon cautions as the Muses begin their introductory monologue. “I just want you to know that beforehand. But out of all the Disney films? This soundtrack is unmatched.”

“Damn right,” you reply, clinking your glass against his. “Best soundtrack ever. We’ll both sound like dying cats, and I for one can’t wait.”

Namjoon laughs and leans over to flick off the lights. The room goes dark and the music begins, and you’re both singing along before you even hit the chorus. Spending time with Namjoon is comfortable, and though you’ve already lived together through the entirety of your first year of school, these past two summer months have strengthened your friendship tenfold. He’s almost like a brother by this point, and you wonder, vaguely, whether Jimin would get along with him anywhere near as well as you do.

As if summoned, your phone goes off. Jimin’s name lights up your screen, and you frown curiously at it before unlocking the device and swiping open the message.

[7:56pm] Chimchim: miss me yet? 😚

[7:56pm] You: no way, weirdo

[7:57pm] You: what do you even want anyway? sure you’re not the one missing me?

Immediately, your phone buzzes with a response.

[7:57pm] Chimchim: seriously? offensive

[7:57pm} Chimchim: orientation’s in less than a week or have u forgotten already?? good thing i’m reminding u

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you realize that you had, in fact, forgotten. You remember your own college orientation vividly—a jam-packed weekend filled with building tours and ample opportunities to talk to current students. Several of your friends, you’d first met that weekend as you all tried to navigate a new chapter of your lives—Namjoon included. It’s how the two of you ended up living together—jammed into a suite with two others who thankfully meshed perfectly with the both of you. Neither Hoseok nor Jennie are here for the summer, but you’ve kept in touch while apart. Both of them poke relentless fun at Namjoon for opting to take summer classes, and you never hesitate to join in on the lighthearted teasing.

[7:58pm] You: oh yeah lol

Your response is casual and calm, but your heart rate is anything but. Jimin coming to orientation means Jungkook is coming too, and the thought of seeing him sends an anxious flurry of butterflies aflight in your stomach. You remember texting him the day after you came back—just a simple photo of his painting, hung proudly on the wall above your desk. He responded with a string of thumbs-up emojis, and that had been that. You’ve barely heard a word from him since, and Jimin’s occasional texts and social media posts are the only reason you know he’s still alive. Hesitantly, you type out another message, thumb hovering briefly over the send button before hitting it.

[7:58pm] You: you and jungkook are driving up, right?

[7:59pm] Chimchim: yep! road trip

[7:59pm] Chimchim: still not convinced jk’s car will make it all the way tho lmao

You think back to Jungkook’s beat-up sedan with its sputtering engine and scratchy seats, and the ominous way the passenger side window sometimes rattled if you slammed the door too hard. Can’t blame you for having doubts, you write back, earning yourself a hearty LMAOOO in response. And then:

[8:01pm] Chimchim: i’ll probably have to do most of the driving anyway

You frown, brows furrowing. Why’s that?

[8:02pm] Chimchim: just a hunch. jk’s been weird lately

[8:02pm] You: …weird how?

[8:02pm] Chimchim: just weird. a little distracted, maybe? he doesn’t answer me when i ask him whats wrong

[8:03pm] You: how long has he been weird?

[8:03pm} Chimchim: idk 🤷‍♂️

[8:03pm] Chimchim: 2 days, maybe 3? i think he might be worried about orientation or college or something. either way i don’t trust him to operate a motor vehicle rn

Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth as you consider your brother’s revelation. It’s perfectly natural to be nervous about something new, but you still can’t help but wonder if Jungkook’s strange behavior might have anything to do with seeing you again. But before you can dwell on it more, your phone buzzes again in your palm.

[8:04pm] Chimchim: i mean srsly he didn’t even hit on mina when we ran into her at jin’s the other day. do u remember her? the girl from the bbq place we went to for grad dinner??

[8:04pm] Chimchim: but on the bright side, it looks like he and chae made up. about time, tbh. things were really awkward for a while

[8:05pm] Chimchim: wait u knew about them, right? they dated for a while?

You take a deep breath before responding, the gears of your brain whirring as you fight to process all of the information he’s dumped on you. Yeah, you write back. Chae told me. They’re okay now?

[8:06pm] Chimchim: yeah. i think they talked at your going away thing

The memory of them chatting in your parents’ backyard resurfaces, and a rush of relief follows it. Even though your conversation with Chaeyoung at the mall confirmed that she was no longer angry with Jungkook, the guilt of sneaking around with him continued to linger in the back of your mind. You’re definitely going to buy her a box of cookies from Kim’s Kitchen as an apology the next time you see her. Maybe even two.

After a few more texts, your conversation with Jimin peters out. He signs off, citing a house party he has to start getting ready for, and you settle back in to watch the rest of the movie with Namjoon, smiling reassuringly when he shoots you a curious look and mouths, everything okay?

Everything is okay, you decide. Jungkook’s weird behavior isn’t your problem, and there’s not a whole lot you could do even if you wanted to, considering how little you’ve spoken in the last eight weeks. That doesn’t stop you from opening up your messages and scrolling down to Jungkook’s name, though. It doesn’t stop you from opening up the last conversation you had—something about a particularly annoying customer at Jin’s restaurant—and scrutinizing every word.

Later that night, just as you’re brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed, your phone buzzes again. The name attached to the text immediately sends your heart into your throat, and you shakily towel off your hands before swiping it open.

[12:25am] Jungkook: i mis s yuo.

Drunk, the little voice in your brain whispers. He’s drunk. Belatedly, you remember the party Jimin had mentioned, and realize that Jungkook must be there as well. Alcohol has clearly loosened him up, enough to instigate this unexpected sentiment, but you are painfully sober. At a loss, you stare at his message until your screen goes dark. Irritably, you wake it up again, unlocking the phone so you can stare some more, and after what feels like an eternity, you type out a response.

[12: 28am] You: drink some water, jungkook

He doesn’t respond. You wait for five minutes, and then ten, but your phone screen remains obstinately dark and devoid of new notifications. Climbing into bed, you check one last time, but there’s still no response from him.

A resigned sigh leaves your lips as you turn off your bedside lamp and plug in your phone to charge. Sinking down into the mattress, you push away all thoughts of Jeon Jungkook as you close your eyes and wait for sleep to come.

///

On Friday night, you once again find yourself working late. Thankfully, Jimin and Jungkook aren’t due to arrive until later in the evening, so you still have plenty of time to change into comfier clothes and eat something before you have to play host.

Or at least, that’s what you thought. When you swing open the front door of your home, however, you’re greeted by two extra pairs of shoes—one of which is a certain individual’s signature black Timberlands, scuffed and worn from years of use. “Joonie?” you call cautiously, toeing off your loafers and skirting around the corner to poke your head into the kitchen. “Are you home?”

No reply. You wander a little further, entering the living room, and that’s where you’re greeted by the sight of your suitemate, his sheepish grin flanked on either side by two very familiar faces.

“Noona!” Jimin is grinning from ear to ear, and immediately skips forward to smoosh your cheeks between his palms. “We got here early!”

You slap his hands away and poke your fingertips into his ribs. “I can see that,” you retort. “What I don’t get is why you didn't bother to tell me.”

Jimin shrugs. “Surprise?”

You sigh and turn instead to Namjoon, who’s watching your exchange with an amused smile. “Thanks for getting them settled in,” you tell him gratefully. “You should’ve called me, though. I would’ve tried to get off work early if I’d known.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Namjoon waves you off. “They got here about half an hour ago, so it wouldn’t have made much difference, anyway.”

“Still, let me thank you,” you insist. “Dinner’s on me tonight, since I have to feed these heathens anyway. Do you want to order something in? Go out?”

“I’m okay either way,” Namjoon says, shrugging, and you turn to Jimin and Jungkook questioningly.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Jimin says. “I think we’re both pretty tired from the drive, so staying in might be nice.”

“Anything’s fine.” Jungkook is staring down at his right hand as if he’s trying to crack a secret code etched in his fingerprints, and when he speaks, his voice is soft. “Whatever you want, Noona.”

You haven’t forgotten about his text from a few days ago, and judging by the way he can’t even look you in the eye, neither has he. It’s strange seeing him here now—wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt like he so often does, his feet encapsulated in plain white socks. His hair has grown out since you last saw him, leaving only the barest glimpse of his silver earrings visible beneath the dark, shaggy locks. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to run your fingers through it, but quickly quash that train of thought before it can progress any further.

The group eventually settles on ordering pizza, which you order and pay for on your phone. Conversation flows easily as Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon get to know each other, and when the food arrives, Namjoon pulls out his collection of board games. The remainder of the evening passes in a haze of pizza and game tournaments, and it’s only when midnight has come and gone that you decide to call it a night. Jungkook and Jimin settle into the two empty bedrooms—Jungkook in Hoseok’s and Jimin in Jennie’s—and you bid everyone goodnight before retiring to your own bed.

You don’t miss the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on your retreating figure, but he doesn’t say anything and neither do you. He’ll be busy with all the orientation events scheduled tomorrow, and you’re planning to spend a good chunk of the day running errands that you don’t have time for on weekdays. The question of why he’d texted you that night remains on your mind, but you don’t want to ask. And you especially don’t want to ask why he’d never responded after that first message. Confrontation has never been your style, and with any luck, you’ll be able to avoid spending extended periods of time with him altogether.

With any luck, this weekend will pass with no further incident, and you’ll be able to spend the remaining few weeks of your summer in peace.

///

It’s just after two o’clock in the afternoon when you return to your dormitory, a grocery bag clutched in each hand and a tote bag draped over one shoulder. You’ve finished up with all your errands for the day, and even managed to get some reading done for one of your upcoming fall classes. Dropping your bags in the kitchen, you stretch your arms overhead lazily before starting to unpack your groceries. Namjoon is holed up in the library working on an essay, and Jimin and Jungkook don’t appear to be around either. A moment of rare quiet is welcome in your normally hectic life, and you take the opportunity to put some music on and change into your comfiest shorts and a tank top.

You’ve just finished popping some popcorn and are settling onto your bed to watch some Netflix when someone clears their throat from your doorway. Startled, you look up, your eyes locking on Jungkook standing there. He’s wearing a loose gray sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, and you swallow when you see the way he’s rolled up the sleeves to expose vascular forearms and the silver watch on his wrist. Jungkook blinks at you silently from behind his dark fringe of hair, and a beat passes before he clears his throat and speaks.

“Hey.”

You straighten up into a seated position, crossing your legs and plopping the bowl of popcorn in your lap. “Hi.”

Jungkook hesitates, then shoves both hands into his pockets. “Can… can we talk?”

“Sure.” You incline your head. “Talk.”

Your curt tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Awkwardly, he shuffles his feet for a moment before scratching behind his neck and ruffling his already tousled hair further. “My phone died,” he says, and you blink confusedly at him, twice, before responding.

“What?”

Jungkook winces but presses on nonetheless. “My phone,” he explains. “It died the other night. I was going to charge it before the party, but I forgot to plug it in and then it was too late. I didn’t—” He sighs. “I would’ve texted you back, otherwise.”

Belatedly, you realize he’s talking about his text from a few nights ago and why he never responded. His reasoning is relatively sound, at least, but you still have an unanswered question. “Why?” you ask, your voice soft. “Why did you text me that night? I don’t hear from you for weeks, and then you message me that out of the blue? Why?”

“Fuck, I know.” Jungkook takes two steps into your bedroom, before he seemingly thinks better of it and takes a step back. “I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve texted you more, or earlier, but—” Another sigh, and this time he rakes his hands through his hair and sends his dangling earrings tinkling. “I’m sorry. I really am. I was being a coward, and…”

Jungkook trails off, and you see that his attention has flitted elsewhere. He’s staring at the painting of the lake house, still displayed prominently above your desk, and you see the gears in his head whirring before he speaks again.

“You… you still have that hanging up there?”

You glance at the painting before looking back at him. “Well, yeah. Of course I do. It reminds me of home.”

It reminds you of him, too, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud. Instead you turn your attention back to your increasingly fidgety companion, leaning back on your hands and regarding him with your head tilted curiously.

“What were you saying about being a coward? What are you afraid of, Jungkook?”

Jungkook rubs his jaw and sucks in a deep breath. “You,” he finally answers, after several beats that feel like several lifetimes. “I’m afraid of losing you. And I feel like I already might have, especially since we left things so weird at the party. I should’ve…” He shakes his head. ”I should’ve said something sooner. I should’ve told you how I really feel, but I was stupid and scared and I just couldn’t find the right time to do it.”

Your breath catches. Your mouth goes dry and your chest feels tight, and when you try to speak, your tongue feels like sandpaper. “I—” you begin, and it’s all you manage to get out. Jungkook is murmuring your name in a voice so gentle that your heart skips two whole beats, and when you look at him again he is much, much closer than before.

“But I guess late is better than never, right?” Jungkook breathes. Stopping at the edge of your bed, he drops to his knees, and you don’t protest when he takes your hands and cups them protectively between his own. “It’s you, {Name}. It’s always been you. I tried to forget about my feelings when you left for Seoul—tried to convince myself that it was just a stupid crush—but nothing I did worked. I couldn’t forget about you. And then you came back, and I just knew.” Gently, he traces a fingertip across your knuckles before looking up and meeting your gaze in earnest. “I’m in love with you, {Name}. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. And… and I really hope that I haven’t fucked everything up by telling you this now.”

“You—” Your voice sticks in your throat, and you swallow thickly before trying again. “You haven’t. I… I like you, Jungkook. I like you so, so much, and I think I owe you an apology for trying to push you away so much. It’s just that these feelings… they’re so new. And I—well, I don’t know if I love you yet, but I think that I definitely could.”

“Then that’s good enough for me,” he replies, his face stretching into a wide, crinkly eyed grin. “As long as you agree to be my girlfriend, and let me have the chance to make you fall for me.” And when you nod, giggling, Jungkook leans in and presses his mouth to yours.

The kiss is soft and sweet, and lasts several moments before a sobering thought enters your head. You break away, frowning, and Jungkook’s brow furrows as he takes in your expression.

“What’s wrong?”

You bite your lip, worrying at the delicate skin. “This… thing. This relationship—what if it doesn’t work? I mean, god, you’re Jimin’s best friend in the entire world. What if we have an argument? What if—what if we break up?”

“We won’t,” Jungkook replies confidently, lacing his fingers with yours before leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against yours affectionately. Instinct has you leaning into him, seeking out proper contact, and you feel his lips curl into a smile as he indulges you with yet another kiss.

“You can’t know that for sure,” you murmur when you break apart, but your voice is readily lost in the huff of laughter that escapes your companion.

“Maybe not for sure,” he says. “But I’ve loved you since I was about eight, and I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon.”

This time, when your lips meet, there’s a bit more heat behind it. Jungkook curls a hand around your nape to draw you in close, and licks sweetly into your mouth when you part for him. He’s quick to press you down onto your mattress, and you sigh as he trails down your body and takes the straps of your tank top with him. The material falls off your shoulders, leaving just enough room to tug the rest of the shirt down to your waist, and he groans when your bare breasts are freed.

“No bra? Fuck, you’re killing me.”

You arch beneath him, huffing out a breathless little laugh when he seizes the opportunity to envelop a nipple into his mouth. His fingers find the other—squeezing and rubbing and tweaking until you’re quivering in his grasp. “Jungkook,” you breathe, waiting until he lets out a soft hum of acknowledgment. “Jimin—he could come back any minute. Maybe we shouldn’t do this right now.”

Jungkook glances up from where he’s exploring the underside of your breasts, tracing the soft swell of delicate skin with his lips and tongue. “Jimin,” he says, “is at a special session for his major. He won’t be back for hours, so why don’t you relax and let me make you feel good, hmm?”

And, without even waiting for an answer, he drops down to his knees and digs his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts. Your legs are dangling off the edge of the bed, and Jungkook easily tugs the material off them, taking your panties right along with it. Tossing them aside, he doesn’t hesitate to spread your legs and slot himself into the newly created space. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, and your breath hitches when you glance down the length of your body and see the ravenous glint in his eyes.

There’s no doubt in your mind that you’re wet enough to take his cock right now. You can feel the slick gathering between your legs, and the smirk on Jungkook’s face tells you that he’s noticed it too. Teasingly, he presses an experimental fingertip to your clit, watching in satisfaction as your hips buck off the mattress at the flare of pleasure. Then he’s sliding down, sinking a lone finger into your entrance and curling upward to find the soft spot that he knows will unravel you in a matter of minutes. A gasp escapes you when he finds it, your hips rising again, and he soothes you with a warm palm on your thigh and a sweet kiss to your hipbone.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly Jungkook is able to build up your orgasm, but then again, you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always been a quick study, and you’ve never been sure whether it’s stubbornness or determination that drives him to excel at his passions. Here and now, with two of his fingers buried inside your cunt and a third teasing its way in, you don’t even care which it is. All that matters is the pressure building in the pit of your belly, and the way Jungkook keeps murmuring your name and encouraging you to cum for me, princess. It’s enough to push you over the edge, your back arching off the bed and your lips parting in a moan as you ride out your high.

“So pretty.” Jungkook circles your clit with his thumb, his fingers still sheathed within your walls. “You always take my fingers so well.”

“Think I’d rather take your cock instead,” you reply breathlessly, sagging back against the mattress and reaching for him. Jungkook takes the hint, gritting out a hoarse curse before crawling up your mostly bare body and crushing his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. You grab the hem of his gray sweatshirt, pulling it up and over his head, and are more than pleased to discover he’s not wearing anything underneath. His sweatpants soon follow, Jungkook impatiently kicking the material off his ankles, and you sigh out his name when he wraps you in his arms, skin against skin.

“I’m not going to last very long,” he warns you, his breath a puff of hot air against the shell of your ear. “Promise I’ll make it up to you later. Just wanna feel you right now.”

“Go on, then,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “How do you want me?”

Jungkook groans, no doubt having a furious internal debate with himself, before reaching down and taking his cock in one hand. “Just like this,” he decides, gazing down at the way you’re spread out on your back for him. Deliberately, he settles between your thighs, giving himself a few pumps before positioning himself at your entrance. “Wanna kiss you while I fuck you. Wanna kiss you for the rest of my life.”

He’s pushing forward then, stealing the breath from your lungs along with any thoughts that may have crossed your mind at his last sentiment. Jungkook sinks into you until you’re gasping at the fullness, his hands grabbing at the meat of your hips and pulling you against him with every thrust. He fucks into you with reckless abandon, hoarse praise and gritted curses falling freely from his lips as he uses your body to seek out his own high. Every now and then, his mouth seeks out yours in a sloppy kiss, which you happily indulge as his rhythm falters and becomes increasingly erratic.

Jungkook floods you with his warmth, his arms gathering you up tightly as his cock slowly softens within you. His lips find yours, and this kiss is a simple, tender one—an affectionate press and a crinkly eyed smile that has you automatically smiling back.

“I don’t know why you’re so happy,” you tease, poking him in his slightly sweaty chest. “Jimin’s going to throttle you for this, you know.”

“Worth it,” he replies cheekily. “Anything’s worth it as long as you kiss me better afterward.”

“Gross,” you tell him, laughing. “You’re so lame.”

“But you still like me,” he says with a shrug. Then he grins. “The real question, though, is whether you like me enough to help me move in the fall.”

You hum, hiding your smile. “Depends. What’s in it for me?”

A positively wicked grin spreads across his face and settles there. “Why don’t I give you a preview?”

///

A few weeks later -

Jimin hums softly under his breath as he strolls into his new dorm, a cardboard box cradled in his arms. There’s a growing pile of boxes in the middle of the living area already, and he’s only just found an empty spot to drop the latest when he hears an odd noise coming from the bathroom. A wet, smacking sound, kind of like—

“Jungkook, you dog,” he snorts, throwing the cracked door open. “Get your ass out here and help me unpa—“ He stops in his tracks.

The scene before him doesn’t make sense. Jungkook is standing in front of him with wide eyes and fear in his expression, but that doesn’t make sense. At least it doesn’t until he sees you in the reflection of the mirror over the sink, your clothes disheveled and your lips swollen.

“Wait, we can explain,” Jungkook begins, following the trajectory of Jimin’s gaze and waving his hands in a fluttery panic. “I swear, Jimin, it’s not what you think—“

“That’s my sister,” Jimin says, his voice dangerously calm.

“Yeah, but—”

“You put your hands on my sister,” Jimin continues matter-of-factly, as if Jungkook hadn’t spoken at all. “I’m going to fillet your dick with a dull knife and serve it over rice.”

And before you can catch your breath and open your mouth to stop him, Jimin leaps forward, his fingers aimed directly for Jungkook’s throat.

[honeydew-mel0n]

Can I request Vergil chaperoning his daughter at her prom dance? Thank you! 🙏🏼

So, remember what I said about writing a semi-soft Dadgil? I got really excited to write Dadgil (that isn't the fucking dadV sequel) and this concept is so funny to me but,,,,,, this was a little difficult. I don't actually know anything about dads, or prom.

But!!!!! Thanks for the request!

Dad!Vergil × Daughter! Reader (chaperoneing her junior/senior prom)

Last Dance of the Night

“Are you sure you can’t do it?”

You whisper into the mouthpiece of the phone, shooting glances up the stairs, being able to catch a glimpse of your father straightening himself up in the hallway mirror. “No can do, I know it’s really important, and I'd love to be there but- Hey!” 

You jolt back at the sound of your brother's voice through the phone, once again looking up the stairs to check if he heard the loud squabbling coming through the phone. He’s frozen in place, trying to assess something. Before pushing back his hair.

“Anyway, look Bug, I can't. I'm busy.” A sigh leaves your lips as your shoulders slump. “You’re useless.” “HEY-” 

You hang up, quickly dialing another number on the rotary. You listen to it dial, half expecting him not to pick up, but it clicks and there's a hefty sigh from the other end. “Devil May Cry.” “Hey, Uncle Dante. I, uh, need your help.” “What happened?”

You tap your foot on the carpet. “Sooooo, prom being tonight, I checked the list of parent chaperones who signed up. And…. Dad's name was there.” There’s silence on the other end for a good minute before a roar of laughter. “Please, you could show up for him, and don’t even have to stay. Sign in, then sneak out the back door. They’ll see that you’ve already signed in and won’t let him in.” 

As the laughter continues on and your hope dies, why did you ever think you could rely on your family? The hair on the back of your neck shoots straight up. Oh no. You slam the phone down and turn on your heel. Trying your best to pull a smile that didn’t show how scared you are. 

“Hey dad.” His face is blank, there’s no sign of anger. “It’s getting late, shouldn’t you be on your way already?” You nod, swallowing hard and trying to find an excuse.

“Just made a quick call to Nero. Big day, he’s really excited for me. I really should get going though…” He just nods, wrapping a lace shawl around your shoulders. You drop the nervous smile and a real one forms, his thumb rubbing the fabric gently. “You look lovely.”

“Thanks Daddy.” You hop onto your tiptoes, and he leans down just slightly. You press a kiss to his cheek. 

You slip out the front door waving a goodbye, knowing full well he was watching you from the window. It didn’t take much power walking to escape his view before ducking into your date's porch. Quickly checking to see if you were followed before you decided to knock. 

Their mom opens the door, a delighted smile splits her face. “Oh my gosh Honey! You look so pretty!” She welcomes you in, taking you to their living room. Quickly hurring off to get her child. Looking over their happy family photos you smile melancholy. 

There are loud footsteps, and your date stops abruptly, jaws going slack. “Wow…”

-

You both wave goodbye to their mom as you walk to the overcrowded gym. The staff stand in a row on each side of the door, screaming and cheering as all of the students make their ways inside. 

You cringe as teachers in their 40’s fake enthusiasm, their only real joy being that most of you will soon either be gone for the summer and the others leaving at the end of the year and be some college professor's problem. Your eyes scan the room before ducking behind a wave of people. “*Babe, what the hell?” “My dad.” 

Their eyes widen as they look through the crowd, finding him quickly before returning their gaze to you. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” your face warms. “I was caught up in the moment!” You two try to walk casually to a table and sit down.

God the decor was bad.

If you’ve ever seen the 70’s version of Carrie, where the prom decor was aggressively cheap and 70’s… That, but worse. The gym still smells like last week's basketball game, and no plug in air freshener is going to erase that. 

Kinda smells like your uncle's shop. 

You both keep your heads down. “What did you tell him?” “Last week I told him that I didn’t have a date, and that I was going with a group of friends because we all couldn’t get dates.” They narrow their eyes. “Babe, why?”

“He pretends he doesn’t but… he worries a whole lot about me. I knew he’d stalk you if I told him the truth. But hey, you aren't a boy, so maybe he won’t react badly.” Their eyes widen and you shiver, it’s that icy stare you know all too well. They swallow, before straightening their collar. “What about our plan to sneak out?” 

You look around at the four different doors. “We’ll find a way, give it an hour.” 

“I figured out a way to get out, but I do want to dance with you first. I just need to use the bathroom first, wait for me, okay?” you nod and watch as they walk past a crowd of people and seemingly disappear.  

The lights dim and time passes, things eventually become more lax. You wanted to move around to try and get a escape path (and to experience what you can of prom), but your date refuses to get up at all, especially to dance and make something of the time you have.

They clear their throat and start to get up, leaning down and whispering. 

And you wait. 

And wait, and wait. Maybe, maybe they did disappear. Looking over the groups and couples dancing, and those who were still sitting like you, they were nowhere. Not in here at least. You sigh, sinking down in the uncomfortable metal chair. 

More time passes, and nothing. You start to wish you’d just gone with some friends, maybe then you wouldn’t have gotten ditched and actually had a good time. 

The clock ticks on, and it's becoming more obvious that the staff are getting ready to kick everyone out. The D.J. has been playing straight slow songs for the past 20 minutes, and you’ve had to watch couples and friends slow dance together and two people get crowned king and queen.

You tried your best to seem happy, like you were enjoying yourself. 

Pulling out your phone you see a notification from your dates account. They posted 7 minutes ago. It’s a video of them and their friends fucking around outside of a conveniance store in prom suits and dresses. You feel yourself tear up, slouching lower in the chair. The lights and people become blurry, c’mon, you don’t want to cry. 

A hand comes to rest on your shoulder, you look over your shoulder to see your father looking down at you. “Y/n.” “Hey Dad.” You say, no longer having anything to hide. Not that you can hide anything from him for long. 

He takes the seat your date had, lips pressed shut in a permanent scowl, just like normal. It didn’t scare you, that's just him. “It seems your companion abandoned you.” You scoff, pulling up your shawl. “Yeah…” “You’re upset.” “That obvious?” 

You laugh at your own joke. If he’d been your brother, he would’ve laughed too. But he sits there awkwardly, not knowing how to comfort you in this situation. “They couldn’t even give me one dance before they left me either.”

The current song playing stops and you can hear a few people whine at the idea that the next would be the last of the night. 

A hand is extended to you, your fathers, he stands waiting. It's not an option, it's a demand. You take it, getting up and following him.

The song starts and he starts to dance, but you trip over yourself. Stepping on his feet several times. 

“Sorry… I forgot how to dance.”

Both remembering too-small tiaras being shoved in his hair, little feet with sparkly plastic princess slippers on his, and a random song playing in the background. Trying desperately to teach you how to dance after you’d begged him to. 

Forgot.

You watch him smile, just slightly. The darkness giving him the anonymity to do so.

He never did, but you had so much fun. 

“That's fine, just do what you used to.” 

You step onto his feet, making you move the same as him. A question burns under your skin before you chew your lip. “You’re not mad at me?” “For?” “Lying about who I went with.” There’s a low growl like sigh. “We will deal with that later.” 

You nod, not worrying about it now. Resting your head on his chest, closing your eyes, tears streaming down your face now... All of what happened melts away, the safety of your father makes it go away. He always does. 

[aries-writingblog]

Detonation

Summary: As an FBI agent, YN deals with bad guys all day long. So does Bucky as an Avenger. When their worlds collide, it’s never pretty. Especially not when they are the targets.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4620

Warnings: language, violence, bombs and explosions, bomb threats, hostage situation

AN: This was another request from @cherry-season and if you can’t tell by reading this I’ve been watching criminal minds again so I hope you guys like this one. GIF is not my own credit to original creator.

YN leaned back in the desk chair, spinning it halfway back and forth. Boring a hole into the scattered papers of the police department. She was exhausted. Their team had been after this same guy for a week now. A real piece of work: planting bombs in DC banks. Leaving cryptic messages with them. Fortunately, their bomb squad made it in time to dismantle the charge before it blew. But they were no closer to catching the guy than before.

“Shitty coffee?” A deep, masculine voice approached her side. Placing a coffee cup in front of her. YN smiled, gratefully accepting the beverage. She glanced up to the provider, one of her teammates, Alex Knowles. “Look like you could use it.”

“That a way of telling me I look worse than the coffee?” YN teased, chugging the lukewarm drink down. So accustomed to cheap, watery coffee, she barely even gagged at the bitter taste as it went down. “No leads?”

Alex shook his head, pulling up a chair and plopping beside her. He sighed, gazing out over the bustling police station. Watching the beat cops go in and out of the doors, suspects and victims all being questioned or held in the same room. A Mecca of activity unfolding before their eyes. Progress. Just not the progress they needed.

“Kinda hoping Bryant would bring something back in- he went to question a couple witnesses that were around the bank at the time the guy dropped the bomb off.” He reported, sitting forward to shuffle through the papers on the desk. “What’s all this?”

“Those are previous reports…” YN explained, brushing stray hair back from her face. “I thought he could’ve had a previous record… he built these bombs with some kind of knowledge- whether it be academic or street smarts, I’m not sure yet. Besides, not doing anything else.”

Alex nodded, letting the paper slip through his fingers and back to the desktop. He watched his teammate reorganize the stacks- the glittering diamond on her finger catching his eye. A devilish grin cracked his lips, whistling appreciatively.

“Barnes finally asked that question, did he?” He asked, putting his cup down and gesturing for her hand. YN rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile as she complied. Alex studied the rock more closely, examining the quality. “Got good taste for somebody as old as he is.”

“Oh shut up.” YN laughed, yanking her hand back.

She and Bucky met on a case. Their FBI team had been invited into a local investigation of suspicious activity. Turns out, the Avengers were also looking into it. Well, a team of four Avengers anyways. Bucky Barnes being one of them. He was smooth, a sweet talker. Managed to wriggle his way into her phone, later he would swing a date. Two years later, Bucky was down on a knee in her bedroom. Asking one of those life altering questions.

That had been three weeks ago. They barely had time to see each other after that night. She was pulled back into work, he was pulled halfway across the globe on a mission. He did call every night, checking in. Asking about her day. Making outrageous, silly promises about the wedding and their new home, their future. Making her smile, distracting her from her day. At the same time, allowing himself to dissociate from the mission he was on as well.

“I’m happy for you.” Alex’s tone turned sober, serious. YN glanced over to him. He leaned his elbows on his knees, smiling broadly. “You both deserve someone like the other… you deserve each other. I mean it in the best, possible way.”

“Thank you, Alex.” YN replied, reflecting her sincere gratitude as best she could. Alex was always in her corner. No matter what- he trusted her. In their world, that meant everything and more.

“Hey, LN- Knowles!” Ricky Bryant came rushing into their area, flushed and out of breath. “Listen, I think we might’ve found the bomber’s identity: Casey Griffin. ”

“What?” YN leaned forward, staring up at him. Her eyebrows furrowed, a faint pin struck the back of her head. “Griffin… Casey Griffin- that sounds familiar. Why is that familiar?”

Ricky opened his mouth, ready to spill all the information he had gathered about the man. A woman interrupted their circle, a panicked look in her eyes.

“Agent LN- there’s a call on line six for you. He claims to be responsible for the bombings and he’s demanding to speak with you.” She interjected, nodding to the desk phone. YN glanced from Ricky to Alex.

“Get Robbie on the phone- tell her we need to trace this call immediately.” She instructed, rolling to the desk to pick up the phone. She waited a moment, allowing Ricky to call Robbie, the fourth member of their team. Their tech analyst. “Ready?”

“Yeah- go ahead.”

YN took a deep, calming breath. Her fingers tightened around the phone anxiously. Swallowing back her creeping nerves, she pulled the phone off the receiver.

“Agent LN, may I ask who’s calling?” She began slowly, giving Robbie a chance to snag the call’s location. There was heavy breathing on the other end, as if he had been running.

“You know who’s calling, YN. Don’t play coy- it isn’t a good look on you.”

Recognition struck her like lightning as she heard his voice. He had been one of the hostages in the first emergency scene. YN had taken down his statement herself. She ground her teeth together, anger flooding her system. She had been played.

“You’ve got me there, Casey.” She chuckled, her free hand wiping down the thigh of her tactical pants. “This is the first time you’ve called- why are you just now contacting us?”

The sound Griffin made was far from a laugh- the dark, slow noise was bone chilling. Nauseating. She could feel it deep into her clothes, settling like frost against her skin. She bit her cheek, staving off the urge to shiver through the discomfort.

“I’ve decided I want to give you front row tickets to the show, of course.” He crowed, voice leaping in octaves. “Corner of West and Fifth. You have half an hour, unless you want all these lovely people to end up blood splatters and burn marks on the floors.” YN winced, clenching her jaw. “Oh, and YN? Come in alone.”

The telltale click and beep ended the call, leaving YN to stare blankly at the desk before her. Clenching the phone in her grasp so tightly the plastic creaked. Knuckles lightening. She swallowed, something was clutching her throat. Restricting her lung capacity. Her shaking fingers pressed the phone into the receiver. Pushing her chair back, she stumbled to her feet.

“YN- “

“I just need a minute, okay?” She snapped, snagging her jacket from the chair across from the desk. YN shoved past the incoming traffic of people, fumbling her way outside.

The city was full of noise; Blaring car horns, shouting, a low murmur of pedestrian conversations. Sirens. The thrum of the city’s heartbeat under her feet. Taking a left into the alleyway, YN dug through her pockets, fingers brushing against the carton of cigarettes and lighter.

Hands trembling, she put a stick between her lips. Blowing smoke as soon as she lit it. Tilting her head back against the weathered brick of the station. A shaky exhale following the wavering grey smoke. She clenched her jaw, bowing her head.

She knew it was a trap- Casey was asking to meet alone. But he was holding hostages in a bank loaded down with explosives. And who knew what he wanted, why only her? Why alone? And why was that name familiar? None it made sense- facts blurring together. Shrouding him from her senses.

A sudden buzz against her abdomen sent her reeling back into consciousness. Her cigarette was gone- flicking the filter to the ground. Pushing it into the cement with her boot. Her fingers scuttled through her pocket, retrieving her phone.

Bucky’s contact photo- one of him fast asleep with fridge magnets on his arm. She smiled- somehow Bucky always knew right when she needed him. Like he had a sensor on her emotions, giving him timely reports. Updating him constantly.

“Hey, Buck.” She greeted, begging her voice to not crack. It sounded normal. Or at least enough that she hoped Bucky didn’t question it. Tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear, she lit another cigarette. Blowing the stress away from the speaker.

“Hey, sugar,” She could hear his smile through the phone. That excited one he always got when he first saw her. Wide, showing off his teeth. Stretching his face so much she wondered if it hurt. “I’m just callin’ to tell you I’m home. And I know you’re busy but, I wanted to hear your voice again.”

YN laughed, falling into the regular rhythm with him. Allowing herself to feel the stress melt from her bones. Bucky always had that affect on her. Something she couldn’t quite understand. Why the man was such an addictive drug.

“Well, you’re in luck- I’m on a break right now.” She wanted nothing more than to sit and talk with him, listen to his baritone drawl. Lulling her into a state of comfort and security. But she knew she couldn’t- she had limited time. She had to make a decision. And soon.

“Are you smoking again?” Bucky asked. YN smiled, biting down on her lip. She made a noncommittal noise, neither agreeing or disagreeing with his statement. He had been after her for their entire relationship to make her quit the habit. Trying to help her kick it. Nothing ever really helped. “YN…”

“I know… I’ve only had two. I just… I needed a break.” She admitted, bowing her head. She shifted her eyes to the alleyway opening, seeing Alex and Ricky approaching her. “I’ve got to get back. I’ll see you at home?”

“Yes, I’m making that soup you like for dinner. Don’t let it go cold.” He warned.

“I won’t. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She shoved her phone into her back pocket, meeting her partner’s halfway. Their faces drawn with concern and hesitancy.

“Gear me up.” She pushed between them, not looking back. She feared if she looked at them again, she would lose her nerve. Holding her shoulders back, chin tilted with her head held high. She had to keep the air of confidence around her. If she didn’t- they would never believe her. YN needed full backup for her plan. “I’m going in.”

~~~~~~

The building seemed to loom over her, taunting her as she stood before it. The large windows were gaping at her, a threat to her minuscule presence. YN swallowed back the terror she felt, pushing it down and locking it away. Out of reach.

“We’ll be talking with you through the comms unit the whole time.” Ricky explained, securing the equipment over her ear. He carefully tightened the straps on her vest, glancing to meet her eyes. His brows dipped. “You don’t have to do this you know? We can raid the building or get a sniper down here. This isn’t the only option.”

YN shook her head, clipping her holster over her belt, around her waist. She sighed, the exhale was shaky. Biting down on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling, she clipped extra ammunition to the side.

“It’s the one where everyone makes it out. Those hostages are the main priority right now.”

“Hey.” Ricky stopped her nervous movement, hands on both of her shoulders. Forcing her to look up at his face. “Don’t do that. Don’t make it seem like some small bust… this is serious. We’re worried about you. About this. It’s dangerous. Give a little of that focus to yourself.”

“Okay.” YN agreed. She inhaled again, this time a little more steady. Giving a final affirmative nod, she squared her shoulders and backed away. She turned, facing the group of DC police officers and FBI squads. “Alright, these comms go both ways. I’m negotiating for hostages first. If anything goes wrong, clear the site. We don’t know how many explosives he has in there.”

YN watched the groups follow her orders, setting up to accept hostages. Loading guns for a raid if needed. Both ambulance and fire department had been called in. The companies were also preemptively preparing for the worst. She began walking toward the bank, eyes forward. What felt like thousands of eyes followed her to the door, fire burning against her back.

As she approached, she could see a woman standing at the glass door. She had been crying- her face stained with tears. YN stopped at the glass door, standing face to face with the woman. After several moments of staring, the order was finally given to open the door. The woman’s shaking fingers unlocked it, pushing it open.

“You’ve served your purpose.” A quiet voice spoke across the lobby, echoing on the tiled floors. “You may go.” The woman burst into tears, shoving past YN and onto the street. “Agent LN… how courteous of you to take her place.”

YN entered the lobby tentatively, keeping her head on a swivel. She turned the corner, coming face to face with the bomber. Casey Griffin stood behind the group of hostages, hands tucked behind his back. A twisted, sacrilegious grin on his lips. The group at his feet were huddled together, most were sobbing quietly. Holding people they most likely didn’t know. She knew from experience that tense situations erased all lines between humans. Everything begins to blur when terrified panic sets in.

“I’m here, Griffin. What do you want?” She demanded, her hand resting on her weapon. There was a buzz of static in her ear, the line opening.

“We don’t have a visual of you anymore, LN. Get back into sight.”

Griffin took a step forward, around his subjects. A small, black remote in his hand. Eyes steady on her face. Studying her. He exhaled sharply, coming to a stop right before her.

“I was hoping you’d be more… well, more.” He frowned, disappointed. YN’s eyebrow lifted, unable to follow his thoughts. “Such a shame… I’ve read all these great things about you. Every case you’ve solved, every step you’ve made to get here. You’re much more impressive on paper.”

“Get to the point.” YN sneered, her jaw clenched. Griffin smirked, eyes scanning down her face again. He sighed, rolling his eyes.

“All you feds- no taste for the theatrical. I much rather prefer the Avengers.” He grinned, eyes sparkling dangerously. YN felt her heartbeat pick up It’s pace. Heart threatening to burst out of her chest. “Oh, that’s right… congratulations, by the way. What’s it like- being engaged to a fossil? Are his brains still scrambled?”

“Shut up.” She hissed, fingers itching to reach out and wrap around his throat. He only tilted his head, pouting. He began pacing, orbiting around her slowly. Her shoulders tensed, defenses began raising even further. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you see, I’m very well acquainted with Sergeant Barnes.” Griffin slowed to a stop again, on her right. He leaned in, close enough she could feel his breath against her skin. “He murdered my husband.”

The pounding in her chest seemed to have leapt into her throat. Breathing was much harder now, her skin crawled as her brain went into overdrive. Something was wrong… what was going on?

“He doesn’t do that anymore.” YN admitted, her voice lower than she thought it would be. Threatening to crack.

“But he does.” He hissed, gripping her arm tightly. Yanking her to his chest. His free hand came up to her ear, ripping the unit out and flinging it into the wall. His fingers fluttered down to her chin, grasping it tightly and forcing her face to his. He stared down at her. Anger burning in his irises, the dark circles under his eyes. His nostrils flared. “What makes it even worse is that he chose to do it. With Hydra, he had no choice. But with the Avengers? He had every decision laid out before him and he chose.”

YN flinched, flecks of saliva landing on her cheek. Her jaw clenched down tighter, eyes closing momentarily. Griffin’s hand crept down from her face, into the pocket of her pants. His fingers grasped the device, pulling it out. He held the device to her face, unlocking it then shoving her away.

“So now,” Griffin gave her a maniacal grin. YN was beginning to get whiplash from his mood swings. He was unpredictable. Unstable. Devolving before her eyes. She glanced back to the group of hostages. “He gets to flex that autonomy again. Oh, how lovely- he was your last call.”

“Why do you have me here, Griffin?” YN demanded, attempting to take control of the situation. If he was distracted, she could maneuver and gain the upper hand. “If you wanted to go after Bucky you would’ve done it. Why do any of this? Why do you need them?”

Griffin spared a quick glance to the group of shivering civilians. He hummed quietly, pressing dial for Bucky’s number. YN felt a drop of sweat bead down her neck. Rolling to meet the bulletproof fabric over her torso. She was alone in here, responsible for the lives of those petrified people. Staring and waiting for her to do something. Help them.

Her eyes fell to the remote in his hand. She could snatch it. The bomb was his power move. His leverage. Then again, the hostages were bargaining chips. He had to give something up. She had to remove variables.

“Let them go.” YN urged, holding her hands out in surrender. “You’ve got me, you’ve got my attention. Let them go.” He sighed dramatically, eyes rolling as he pressed the button for speakerphone.

“It’s no fun without an audience.” He whined, shrugging as he turned to the hostage group. “And to think- we were just getting to the good part. Fine! Leave, all of you.”

The group all scrambled to their feet, taking their leave before he changed his mind. The stampede rushed the door, cramming themselves out into the street. YN’s heart slowed, the adrenaline fading in her veins slightly. Her priority was taken care of- they all made it out alive.

“Hello?” YN never thought she would be nervous to hear Bucky’s voice. Casey smiled at the phone, eyes boring into her skull. “YN? Hello?”

“She can’t make it to the phone right now.” Griffin responded, giving her a mocking pout. The other end fell silent. YN could almost feel the paranoia settle over his body. “I would ask you to leave a message but I’m afraid she won’t be around much longer to hear it.”

An idea began to form, tingling at the base of her skull. YN gulped nervously. She had to keep him distracted- keep him focused on Bucky. But that also meant she had to stay focused on Casey. She couldn’t say a word to Bucky. Not yet.

“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” Bucky hissed. YN closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She could pull her weapon. But could she pull it fast enough? Griffin could blow the place to smithereens. She could try to get the remote- every solution seemed to fall back to the same outcome. She grit her teeth- he had the upper hand. She could do nothing but wait it out.

“Joshua Rivers.” Casey replied. While his voice was smooth and unrestrained, his eyes told a different story. Seething, red hot rage burned in his veins. “Does that name ring any bells to you, Sargeant? Let me give you a hint anyways- I know how fragile the mind can be in the older years. He was a lead operative for Hydra. Four months ago, you raided his warehouse and instead of arresting him, you put a bullet through his skull.”

“He deserved more.” Bucky hissed, his voice crackling through the speaker. Echoing in the empty building. Casey scowled, his nose scrunching in anger. “That warehouse housed human experimentation projects.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Casey screamed, veins in his neck popping out against his skin. Pumping adrenaline in time with his heart. “He was a person- he had people who loved him, cared for him. You took that away from me. I can’t help but wonder… how you’ll feel about the same circumstances.”

“Where is YN?” Bucky demanded, keeping his voice level. YN began to creep her fingers up, toward the gun in her holster. She had one chance. He was distracted- she could gain the upper hand.

“Well, that’s a tricky question. It’s only a matter of time before she’s… everywhere.” Griffin shrugged, swinging his gaze back to YN. Her fingers faltered, halting at her hip. She was close, her thumb brushed the cold metal of the gun. “So now… now I think I’ll return the favor. You took something from me. The only person that ever mattered. You destroyed my world.”

“If you touch her, I swear to-“

“You don’t believe in God, Sergeant.” Griffin’s slow drawl interrupted the threat. His tongue ran over his lips, taking a deep breath. “He’s not real. If he were, don’t you believe that none of this suffering would happen?” There was a ruckus of noise on the other end of the phone, Bucky panting heavily. A door slamming. “This is your repentance, James Barnes.”

YN’s fingers wrapped around the metal plating, her nerves settling. She could make this draw. It would be fast enough. It would be accurate. She could end it once and for all. She exhaled slowly, counting down.

Three…

Two…

One…

In a flash, YN pulled her gun from her side. Aiming it at Casey’s chest and pulling the trigger. The loud gunfire echoed- ringing in her ears. Her heart sank. Stomach plummeting to her feet.

She missed.

Casey’s expression settled into one of contempt. Disappointment. The hell fire turned to her, his focus shifting from Bucky to YN. Surging toward her, his hand swung out, shoving the muzzle to the ceiling as she fired again. Casey’s fist tightened around her phone, a strong punch to her kidney sending her to her knees, wheezing for air. YN grunted, her hand swinging at a wide angle, but it was only deflected as the heel of his hand connected with her nose. Releasing a sharp cry, YN cradled her nose carefully. Eyes watering and face stinging. Bucky’s frantic shouts barely audible as she knelt, gasping in pain. Her thoughts muddled and slow.

Casey sighed dramatically, ripping the weapon from Yn’s hand. She groaned, disoriented as a fresh wave of pain throbbed from her face. Blood seeped from between her fingers, dripping down into a puddle on the tile floor.

“Say goodbye to your fiancée, Sergeant.”

~~~~~~

Bucky all but tossed the motorcycle onto the curb as he skidded to a stop. A blazing inferno consumed the building, scorching the blackened trees that once surrounded it. The hand gripping his throat squeezed tighter as he stumbled toward the police line. Shoving his way through bystanders.

He felt sick- choking back the nausea bubbling from his stomach. Fire bellowed from the gaping, blown out glassless windows. Portions of the building were collapsed, the rest soon to follow. He barreled through shouting police officers, desperate to reach the building.

“Barnes!” He didn’t turn- even though the voice was familiar. He had to get to her- she was still alive, he knew she was. She had to be. “Barnes- man, you can’t go in there!”

Hands grasped his metallic shoulder, pulling him back roughly. Bucky grunted, swinging his arm around, taking hold of the man’s bulletproof vest. He clenched his jaw, staring down at Alex Knowles. One of her partners. Knowles’ eyes were puffy and rimmed with red. His skin was irritated, probably from wiping tears away.

“She’s still in there.” Bucky stated, without asking if she had been pulled out yet. He knew the process of these kinds of situations. The fire chief had to clear it and the area was nowhere near safe enough. But his girl was in there, in danger. Dying slowly, the longer he stood around. It had already been too long.

“Teams haven’t been sent in yet… I know you’re scared but you could make it worse if you go in there guns blazing. It could collapse the rest of the way.” Knowles warned, his eyes begging Bucky to stay put. Bucky shoved him away. Stripping off his jacket, Bucky scowled at the man.

“I will be the something worse if she’s not alive. Don’t test me, Knowles.” He growled, tying the jacket sleeves around his waist. Bucky turned on his heel, sprinting for the blown out doors of the bank. Ignoring the shouts of the firemen and police officers on the scene.

Inside, the flames locked the walls, staying maintained. It seemed the only thing the department had been doing since the explosion was clearing the fire. They had been prepared somewhat.

Bucky stumbled through the rubble, boots tripping over chunks of concrete and twisted metal. He had to find YN, she was somewhere. He had to keep himself from thinking the worst- she was alive. She would be okay. He just had to find her first.

He turned what would’ve been a corner of the bank, his heart rocketing through his chest. The beat thumping wildly.

Two bodies. Lying side by side.

“YN!” He picked his way through rubble, skidding to his knees beside her. Deep cuts laced her dirtied features, trapped under a chunk of concrete from the waist down. For now, he didn’t care of the implications that could lie beneath the rock. His trembling fingers found the pulse point in her neck, bowing his head and stifling a sharp sob as he felt a faint, slow thrum. He brushed the hair from her face gently, biting his lip to keep himself together. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Bucky shuffled down to her waist, hooking his fingers into the rock. Just as he began lifting, a sharp gasp startled him, almost dropping the rubble. He glanced back at YN- wide awake and sobbing. Carefully, Bucky spared a glance under the concrete. A metal rod went directly through her thigh, blood seeping from the wound.

“Shit…” It had been contained until he lifted it- now she was going to bleed out. He had to move fast. “YN, doll, I’ve got you. This is gonna hurt but it’ll be okay.”

She didn’t respond, sobs ripping from her chest as he stilled. Bucky took a deep breath, collecting his nerves. He moved quickly, throwing the concrete across the room with a loud grunt. An ear piercing shriek fell from Yn’s lips, her fist pounding the ground at her side. Bucky untied his jacket, wrapping it tightly around her injured thigh.

“Okay, sweetheart. We’re gonna get out of here.” Bucky’s chest tightened as he gathered her in his arms. She was shivering, huddling close to his body as best she could. Her skin was filthy, covered in soot, dirt, and blood. “Try to talk with me, sweet girl. Stay awake.”

“Ja- James…” YN’s fingers twisted into his shirt, tears soaking into his fabric. His heart clenched. It was his fault- that idiot had gone after her because of him. He held her closer, tighter, as he picked his way back to the doors. “I… I think I’m done- done smoking.”

Bucky almost laughed, forgetting his location. The situation fading as he spared a glance down to her face. She was grimacing, lips pulled and forehead wrinkled. But here she was- trying to joke with him.

“Why’s that, doll?” He questioned, emerging from the collapsed bank. The sunlight was strong, glaring down into his eyes. He hunched slightly, trying to block the intense light from her sensitive eyes. YN groaned, tugging weakly at his shirt. “We’re almost there, doll. Keep talking. Why’re you quittin’?”

“I’ve had enough smoke for one lifetime.” She replied, eyes fluttering. Paramedics rushed toward them, a gurney wheeled to their side. Bucky carefully lay her back, grasping her hand tightly as they rushed toward the ambulance.

Bucky didn’t reply, lips pressed together. Concern running rampant as they moved. His eyes caught Knowles and Bryant’s, averting his as soon as they landed. Loading into the ambulance.

“Bucky?” He quickly stepped up, sitting down in the back. Squeezing her hand tightly. YN gave a half- hearted return. Her fingers tangling with his, eyes closed. “Stay… please…”

“I’m here, sweetheart.” Bucky smiled, hoping his face could mask the desperate panic he felt in the pit of his stomach. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

[michals]

A scene with Five and Allison?

“You know,” Allison says, “At first I thought you might be a robot.”

Five looks up from the memo pad he found next to a bible in the motel room’s nightstand that he’s scribbling in, “What? Why?”

Allison shrugs lazily, swirling her plastic cup of cheap whiskey. “I mean, you did drop out of the sky right after dad died, looking exactly the same as when you left. Plus I can name at least three villains who’d probably still be happy to mess with us.” She gives a thoughtful frown. “Or would have been happy to.”

Five’s ready to argue about that, because of course he’s not a robot that’s ridiculous, but…then again, it’s no more ridiculous than anything else that’s happened. Besides, mom exists. Existed. Maybe. There’s no answer to that question yet.

Five twists in the cheap plastic pool chair he’s sitting in. “When’d you figure out I wasn’t?”

Allison smirks, “When you starting insulting Diego. I mean I’m sure plenty of them would want to, it was just a little too on the nose.”

Five has to give her that one too.

Allison pushes back from the patio table she’s leaning on and gets up from her own cheap plastic chair, leaving her still almost full glass as she meanders over to the pool Five’s sitting next to. She shucks her shoes and sits down to put her feet in the water. She gives a hum like something amuses her about it but doesn’t explain herself to Five.

Five turns back to the notepad in front of him, pen poised above it ready to write…nothing. Nothing worthwhile anyway. There’s no math to be figured here – the timeline’s just royally fucked up because they fucked it up. All they’ve got right now is this shitty motel they’ve taken up refuge in and a couple of bottles of alcohol bought with money from the 1960s. He gives up, drops the paper on the cement with a huff.

It’s gotta be midnight, maybe later, the motel is quiet and only he and Allison remain outside. Klaus and Luther killed a bottle of rum between them before anyone noticed and Allison had forced them off to bed but the light in their room’s still on. Diego and Vanya gave up the ghost a little while ago, mumbling goodnights. Five’s too wound up to sleep yet, he’s not sure why Allison’s still up.

“We did always wonder where you’d gone,” Allison says to him over her shoulder, and it actually catches Five off guard.

He hasn’t had three seconds to spare thinking about it in the scant two weeks he’s been back with them, his world too chaotic, time moving at a pace he can only do his best to keep up with. But he had thought about it before, in those 45 years, he wondered sometimes what his siblings thought happened to him.

He settles back into the chair. “What’d you come up with?”

Allison smiles, tilts her head as she says, “Klaus thought you ran off to the circus. ‘The Amazing Disappearing Boy’. He was always jealous you got to ride the elephants and pet lions.”

Five can’t help the small smile that tugs at his mouth. Of course Klaus would be jealous even though it wasn’t true. “What else?” He asks.

“Diego thought you joined the FBI or the…CIA or whatever. Or some secret underground cabal of superscientists. And Ben-” she shakes her head with a soft laugh, “Ben would joke you’d come back to us as a supervillain yourself and we’d have to fight you.”

Five does smile at that. Ben was sneaky like that, he looked like the quiet one, the shy one, but Five can imagine him teasing the others with something like that. Probably even came up with a fake scenario worthy of one of their comic books.

Five won’t ask what Vanya thought, he knows enough from her book that she probably never told them. “Luther?”

Allison twists around to fully face him, propped up against her arm. “Well one time he asked me if I thought you’d succeeded. I think he wanted to believe you had.”

He’d had an argument with Luther the day before he left, he thought it was because Luther didn’t believe in him but Five’d had plenty of time to replay it in his head and now he can’t say for sure what it was really about.

“What about you?” Five asks. It’s not adrenaline keeping him awake anymore but it’s a buzz sort of like it as he listens to his sister tell him these things he’d always wanted to know.

Allison pauses, watches the ripples she’s kicking up in the water. “I thought what we all reallythought: you’d run away. You ran out the door and kept running.”

He’d run too far, he hadn’t meant to.

“We thought you’d decided you didn’t want to come back, that you were sick of dad and the Academy and you didn’t want to do the whole ‘hero’ thing, so you found a new family and you started a new life.” She shrugs, her smile somewhere between sad and wistful.

He wants to tell her that’s not true, that’s not true at all. Not just because it’s not what happened but because it’s not what he wanted to happen. He already had a family, for everything he hated it was never them. But he can’t seem to make the words come.

Allison’s back to looking across the pool as she continues. “We imagined you in one of those nice little houses we’d see through the car windows. Ben and Luther would say you’d have a room full of books and toys and Diego said you’d get to stay up late, Klaus said you had ice cream for dinner every night. I thought you’d maybe have a pet, like a dog or a cat.” When she looks over her shoulder her eyes twinkle with amusement. “Although, honestly, sometimes I’d imagine you in a boarding school, in a house all covered in vines-”

“Like Madeline,” Five finishes. She’d loved that book at a kid, Mom would read it to them.

Allison grins. “Like Madeline.”

If only, Five thinks. If only he’d failed and simply refused to turn around, if he’d found a new home and a new family. Unlike her though, unlike all of them, he can’t imagine them. Can’t imagine the kind of family he’d run to, who those people would be. He’d never considered anyone else a possibility, he’s surprised now to think they’d thought he could.

Allison’s gaze goes distant. “Ben…it was different with Ben. We knew he was gone. But Five-” she pauses, her attention coming back to him, “we just thought you’d run away.”

He shakes his head. “It was never you guys, you know. It’s not that I wanted to leave you.” He hates how scratchy his voice sounds.

Her smile returns, softer this time, “You came back at least.”

Five lets out a harsh breath, furrows his brow. “I sure did didn’t I?”

Allison throws her head back and laughs out loud, Five is surprised to find himself grinning.

She settles and shakes her head to herself, another private thought that Five is more hopeful about hearing someday. She swings her legs out of the pool and picks up her shoes. “Alright, bed time I think.”

Five was originally going to share a room with Luther until Klaus had been shooed off with him earlier so now the only bed left is the other twin in Allison’s room. Allison gives a little wave of her hand like she expects him to follow like of course he should. They leave their shoes at the ends of the beds, and Allison turns off the lamp on the nightstand between them.

“I could still be a robot,” Five says, “or a supervillain.” Allison laughs again.

Five thinks he should be disappointed that his siblings thought that he’d just decided he didn’t want to be around them and that he’d been happy for so long without them. Disappointed that they were so sure of it that they’d never thought to look for him. But he can’t be because all their ideas were better than the reality and he finds he likes that they came up with all these happy fantasies for him. To them he’d lead a very different life. Then he came back and proved them all wrong in the worst way.

[cacoetheswriting]

lonely this christmas

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: mild mild cursing, mainly just fluff !!! Word Count: 2.9k Summary: Reader admits to Spencer she will be spending the holidays alone but he’s got other plans.

A/N: starting off the month of december with a christmas centred fic!! hope you like it <3

-

Being alone on Christmas wasn’t unfamiliar to Spencer. In fact it was pretty much the opposite. Being alone on Christmas was typical, ordinary. 

The nature of his job being what it was, he usually ended up working over the holidays anyway. Therefore he never made any plans with his mom because most times he just ended up disappointing her. Being alone at Christmas was fine. Being a disappointment however, completely different story.

As years went by Diana stopped noticing his absence. Of course if Spencer was to visit her at the sanitarium over Christmas she would welcome him with open arms, but he never does. He used to feel incredibly guilty about it, but that too passed with time. 

There was no indication that this year would be any different so he kept his schedule clear. However, the twenty-fifth of December approached fast. Very fast. The closer it got the more it was shaping to be the first holiday season, in a long time, the team would get to spend with their families. And even Spencer found himself considering going home to Nevada; seeing his mom. 

A tab of the airline website was constantly open on his desktop. He checked it regularly; hovering over the option to buy a ticket. 

That’s how you caught him one day. 

You observed from your own desk as Spencer leaned back in his chair, one hand still holding the mouse. The wheels inside his brain clearly turning; evaluating all of the options and possible outcomes.

“Hey, doctor.” You called out grabbing his attention. “If you spend any more time thinking about whether you should go home for Christmas, all the good seats will be gone.” 

He chuckled. “I guess you’re right.” “As always.” You shot him a playful wink as he turned to once again look at his screen. 

“There. Bought.” Spencer exclaimed after a brief moment of silence. “My mom will be happy.” “When was the last time you seen her?” You asked curiously. “It has been more than six months at this stage.” He answered while standing up. 

“Coffee?” He gestured to the empty mug on your desk. You nodded. “You read my mind.” 

The two of you walked towards the kitchenette in the office. It was quite late on a Friday night meaning everyone had cleared out for the weekend. Only the usual suspects remained; Spencer and you.

“When was the last time you were home for Christmas?” “Three years ago. How about you?” Spencer asked, tilting his head slightly to look at you. “Oh, I honestly don’t even remember.” You replied shrugging your shoulders.

“So your family must have been happy to hear you were getting the chance this year to spend the holidays with them.” The brunette doctor switched on the coffee machine and leaned against the wall while you elegantly hopped up onto the counter. 

“Actually, I didn't tell them.” 

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows. “How come?” 

He watched intently as you chewed on your bottom lip - a bad habit you failed miserably to break. In that second of silence you wondered whether you should tell him the truth. He was always so open with you, honest. It would only be fair to repay him with the same sincerity. So you took in a quick breath, and exhaled it quietly before looking up to meet his amiable gaze. 

“My mom and I got into this huge fight a couple of weeks ago. She tried to set me up with this guy because in her eyes it’s unacceptable that I’m single. She doesn't think it’s right that my younger sister is getting married next summer and I haven't had one relationship in my life that lasted longer than a month.” A soft sigh escaped you. “I told her to butt out, using much harsher language than that of course.” Your mouth twirled into a smile; trying to make light of this conversation. Being no stranger to your frequent use of profanity Spencer smirked. 

“We haven't spoken since. She hasn't formally invited me over for the holidays which she always does, even if she knows I won’t be able to make it, and whenever I bring it up with my dad or my siblings they change the topic so.” You shrugged once again while nervously dangling your legs. “It’s easier not to go.” 

Spencer nodded slowly, taking in all of the information you just unloaded. Shaking your head you reached over to grab the coffee pot and poured some into your mug. 

“I’m sorry doctor. I didn’t mean to just lay it all on you like that.” 

He stepped towards you. “Don’t be.” Holding his own cup in front of him, he smiled kindly. “Thank you for telling me.” You began to pour the black hot liquid into his mug; a slight shake to your hand. “Thank you for listening.” “Anytime.”

Spencer placed his full cup on the counter beside you and began to rummage through the cupboards in search for sugar. “Y/N I gotta ask, and obviously if you don't want to answer me you don't have to.” He cleared his throat as you took a sip of your bitter black coffee. “Why didn’t you want to go on a date with the man your mom suggested?” 

Once he successfully located the sugar, he straightened his shirt and plopped two cubes into the hot beverage. He offered you one but you shook your head, taking another sip. 

“I get that it’s not really my place but it just seems a small price to pay for being able to spend Christmas with your loved ones.” 

“If you must know doctor, I prefer to meet people through work. Prison systems and such.” You joked, a wide smile gracing your features. Spencer rolled his eyes. “And how is that going for you?” “Surprisingly well. I have a date shortly after we’re back from the Christmas break.” He arched his brow and smiled at you; playing along as you continued. “Solid guy. Only murdered five people.”

You beamed at the brunette doctor who was grinning back. “Maybe I should consider adding prisons to my dating pool.” You let out an over-exaggerated  gasp and placed your free hand over your chest. “Is doctor Spencer Reid really on the market?” 

Spencer shook his head. His light curls bouncing finely, matching his every move. He lowered his lips to the brim of his mug and took a sip of his coffee before focusing on you. “No, but for the right girl I’d consider it.” 

Without thinking you raised your free arm and adjusted his tie. Flattening down the edge of his collar, you could feel his eyes on you. Yet for some reason you were suddenly afraid to look up and meet his gaze. Strange. Or maybe not so strange.

“Lucky girl.” You said in a mere whisper. Letting your hand fall, you stepped off the counter with a light bounce. Spencer cleared his throat and the two of you walked back to your seats. 

The next few hours were spent working in silence. You tried to focus on the mountain of paperwork on your desk, yet instead found yourself glancing at the young doctor every other second - secretly hoping he would also be peeking up at you. And he was. Just not when you were looking at him.

“Y/N if you want you can come with me to Nevada, spend Christmas with me and my mom. ” Spencer proposed out of the blue. He got up out of his chair and grabbed his jacket, slowly putting it on. You smiled at him. “Thank you doctor but I will honestly be okay alone.” Pause. “Plus, I wouldn't want to interfere.” 

He was about to protest, say you wouldn't be interrupting, but he bit his tongue. He didn't want to seem pushy. “If you change your mind, let me know.” He reached for his bag and threw the strap over his head. “Just do it quickly or all the good seats will be gone.” He teased. You giggled. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. ” 

The brunette agent hesitated. He swayed on his heel for a moment before approaching your desk. “Can I give you a ride home?” He asked, eyes locking with yours. “There’s still a couple of things I want to get done but thank you for the kind offer.” Spencer nodded. A faint look of disappointment appeared on his face. “Goodnight Y/N.” “Goodnight doctor.” 

Christmas was upon you in the blink of an eye. On the last day before break the team exchanged Secret Santa presents before enjoying a pizza party. This year you had Penelope who squealed over her gift as everyone watched in amusement; you included. Resting against the wall, you observed as the blonde jumped around the room with joy. Her smile made you smile. 

“Good job on Penelope’s gift.” Spencer appeared beside you holding two plastic cups filled to the brim with eggnog. He handed you one before making himself comfortable next to you, his arm pressed gently to yours. “I don’t know what you're talking about doctor.” You responded, tilting your head slightly to look at him. 

“I like your Christmas sweater.” A small smile circled your lips as you reached out to flick the little bell sown onto the top of the Santas hat on his jumper. Spencer chuckled. “Thank you. You know, I really couldn't decide between this or the one with the Home Alone reference.” “Ah, the trusted Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal sweater.” “That would be the one, yes.” The two of you beamed at each other. 

“I’m surprised you know what Home Alone is doctor.” You teased, nudging him playfully in the arm. Spencer laughed. “If I’m being honest, I was more intrigued by the booby traps than the plot of the movie.” He retorted as you sipped on the eggnog; slightly rolling your eyes at his response. “Of course you were. Don’t tell me you tested them out too?” 

He averted his gaze without responding, clearly a little embarrassed. “Well...” 

You couldn't help but giggle. Slowly, you leaned in towards him so that your lips were now at his ear. The brunette agent shivered as your hot breath hit his skin, however he didn't move away. 

“Don’t worry doctor, I did too.” You whispered. 

Instantly, he turned to look at you once again. His face was now inches away from yours, and as he stared oddly into your eyes the air caught in your throat. The two of you hovered right there for a moment, not moving and quite soundless, simply feeling each other's presence - as if there was no-one else in the room, no party. 

Eventually you broke the eye contact and took a step to your right, moving away from him. Suddenly feeling timid, you took another sip of your beverage while your free hand ran through your hair. Spencer also looked away. His mind racing a million miles per hour; he should have kissed you, right? No. Not in front of all these people, your colleagues. That would be bad. Unprofessional. Would you have even wanted him to kiss you? Did you like him like that? He hoped you did.

The party soon drew to a close. You were lost in conversation with Emily while Spencer was trying to teach Morgan and Rossi some card tricks. Your gaze kept averting in the direction of the young doctor every once in a while; Emily of course noticed. “Tell me again why you’re not going to Nevada with our resident genius?” A puzzled look now present on your face. “How did you-” 

“Reid told Morgan who told Garcia who told me.” She interrupted. You laughed at the ridiculousness of what she just came out of her mouth. “It’s like I’m in high school all over again.” She laughed under her breath.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“So, why aren’t you going?” Emily pried. A quiet sigh escaped your lips. “Like I told him, I don’t want to interfere.” She rolled her eyes; not buying into your bullshit. “He wouldn't have invited you-” “Fuck, please I don’t want-” She raised her hands in front of her. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” 

Glancing at the time, you excused yourself wishing Emily a wonderful and happy Christmas. Quickly and quietly, you headed to your desk and put on your winter coat. As you grabbed your handbag you turned to face the remaining partygoers: “Happy holidays everyone!”. Your eyes briefly locked with Spencers who shot you a shy smile as you mouthed ‘Merry Christmas doctor.’ before hurrying out the door. 

Two days later it was the twenty-fifth of December. You woke up on your couch, having fallen asleep during Christmas movie marathon, to the sound of your phone ringing. 

Yawning, you reached for the device. Spencer. Answering, you pressed it to your ear and croaked; “Hello.”. 

“I hope I didn't wake you.” “You did actually.” You responded yawning once again and gradually scrambling to your feet. You ambled towards the kitchen, straight for the coffee maker. “But I could never be mad at you doctor.” “I’m glad to hear that.” 

There was a short pause.

“How are you?” He asked, his voice kind. “I’m okay, no need to worry about me. Shit-” “Y/N?”

“Sorry. I just realised I’m out of coffee grounds.”

Spencer chuckled on the other line. “It’s not funny doctor. I’ve no coffee and everything is closed because it’s Christmas.” “You could always switch to tea for the day.” Rolling your eyes, you smirked. “Right, because I’m such an avid tea drinker.” 

There was another short pause.

“How was your flight? How’s Nevada? How’s your mom?” You asked changing the topic, making conversation. The young doctor didn't respond. “Hey, are you there?” The line cut-off. Weird.

‘He’ll call back later.’, you thought and headed for your bathroom.

An hour later you were showered and dressed. You switched on the lights on your poorly decorated Christmas tree and were about to make yourself comfortable on the sofa when a knock on the door caught your attention. You scurried over, without looking through the peephole to see who it was, you opened it.

“Spencer.” 

“Merry Christmas Y/N.” 

The brunette doctor smiled as you furrowed your brows. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Nevada.”

“I was. I got back early this morning.” 

He waited for you to invite him in before shimmying passed. He set down two tote bags on the kitchen counter before turning to look at you once again. Lost for words, you locked the door and approached the young doctor. Slowly you peeked inside the bags. “Supplies.” He simply stated while taking off his coat. 

“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “You didn't have to do this doctor.” “I know.” He shrugged before reaching into one of the bags and unpacking the items. “I wanted to.” He held up a bag of coffee grounds and you couldn't help but giggle delicately. 

“Thank you.” Your fingers brushed his as you grabbed the bag sending a shiver down your spine. Spencer froze feeling the sensation too. Nervously, he let his hand fall but the half-smile on his face remained. 

“Where did you get this stuff anyway?” You asked as you walked around to the coffee machine. “I packed what I had at home.” Nodding, you began to prepare two cups. As the appliance whirred, you turned in your spot. “What about your mom? Wouldn't she have wanted to spend Christmas Day with you?” 

Spencer continued to unpack the bags, neatly placing each item on the counter in front of him. “We spent all of yesterday together.” Pause. “And besides, she’s the one that urged me to come here.” He peered up at you, resting his palms down on the kitchen counter. The second his hazel eyes locked with yours, the flush of your cheeks turned a slender pink. 

Not really thinking you ushered back towards him. The brunette doctor watched you attentively. Gently, you placed one hand on top of his and gave it a tender squeeze. “Lucky me.” You whispered staring deep into his eyes. 

Spencers smile spread wider in unison with yours. After a few seconds of pure comfortable silence, he cleared his throat. “Do you think your prisoner boyfriend would mind if I asked you out on a date?” A faint giggle escaped your lips as the shade of your jowl turned from pink to bright red. “Even if he does-” You took another step towards Spencer, closing the space between you. “-I think you could handle him.” 

Spencer chuckled. Using his free hand, he placed a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. His thumb stroked your cheek in the process and you angled into his pleasant touch. 

“Thank you for being here.” You muttered, unintentionally chewing on your bottom lip. 

He cupped your face as his gaze moved briefly down to your mouth before once again locking with yours. “Thank you for having me.” His voice soothing, not quite matching the fervour in his eyes. 

In the space of a single heartbeat, he leaned down and his lips crushed against yours passionately. You let go of his hand and placed both your palms on his chest; tugging lightly at his shirt to try and pull him in even closer. Spencer did not waste a second, his now free arm moved elegantly around your waist.

The two of you pulled away breathlessly. He gently pressed his forehead to yours as you smiled. “Merry Christmas doctor.” “Merry Christmas Y/N.”

-

masterlist

[seodami]

Dearest treasure | KTH

|PART1| |PART 2| |PART 3|

Summary: Every kid in town was afraid of Kang Taehyun, the old -slightly creepy- man living alone for years and years in the same run down house. Every night he would go into his backyard with a shovel and dig a hole into the earth. No one knows why and there are kids rumouring about him burying people. Jungwon was a bright kid, wanting to find out the truth behind this widely spread rumour for a school project. And what he found out would change his life forever.

Genre: fluff, angst, flashbacks, story of life, snippets of life, tiny bit humour

Warning: old Taehyun, mention of death, mention of suicide/suicidal thoughts, death

Word count: 10152 (all 3 parts)

Pairing: Kang Taehyun x reader, (Yang Jungwon)

Note: Wow okay so this story took me a while to write and I listened to hours of das music to finish this🥺 this was honestly an emotional rollercoaster. But I’m so glad it’s finally finished so I can post it on here yayyy!!! I hope you like it an enjoooyy (please tell me if you cried I would really appreciate your responses haha bc I did)

Main masterlist

2089 (present)

Deathly silence hung in the air as thick as smog. In Jungwons eyes pooled tears, ready to spill over the edges to fall into free fall and drop heavily onto his trousers. His heart was burning, not finding any suitable words of comfort or understanding for the old man in front of him. His throat felt like it was tied up so tightly, he couldn’t breathe. Oh, how didn’t he know? Oh, how could anyone talk bad behind his back? So much hurt…

Mr. Kangs head hung low, not daring to make any other noice than his sniffling nose. Hot tear drops were silently dropping down, it felt suffocating just watching him so full of hurt and sorrow. Suddenly Jungwon felt sorry to let him relive his whole life together with the terrible pain even the young boy could feel.

“I- I…I never could…forgive myself. It was my fault-“ the once handsome mans face was dark and the wrinkles now seemingly even deeper full of regrets and unspoken words. “You wouldn’t understand, boy-“

Jungwon couldn’t form any appropriate words at that moment and let the sadness let him take away just for a little longer. His story was heavy… he felt like he just heard something he shouldn’t have heard. Something so private and fragile. It had touched him more than he had thought.

“I didn’t want to live anymore… it was all worthless since then… I had no motivation to keep going.” His voice became a tad more stable, yet still quiet and weak. His tired eyes met the innocent boys and for a second the old man could see his younger self inside his big brown eyes. Sadness and nostalgia rolled over him and he averted his gaze.

“I tried ending my life many times since that day- it never worked no matter how much I wanted it… and then I just…I just mouldered…alone, broken- and just a shell of my old self. I wasn’t the once happy, bright, clever boy anymore. I could never be that again…”

Jungwons heart felt heavy, breathing wasn’t bearable. His hands unconsciously reached forward to the tiny lost figure sitting in his sunken mould. It was a simple touch but for Mr. Kang it was the first reassuring and comforting gesture he had received in a long long time. It made him tear up stronger, still staying silent. The young boy wanted to be there for the old man. He wanted to show him that he wasn’t alone in this.

Moments of depressing, yet healing silence passed, just the ticking of the old clock in the dark living room was heard. “I’m so sorry Mr. Kang…” Jungwon finally whispered, unsure if the man spoken to even heard it. He couldn’t do much but be there in this moment. Quite honestly he felt like crying himself. But he wanted to stay strong for him.

“One day-“ Mr. Kangs voice shook a little but he kept talking. “-I remembered the time capsule. My dearest treasure. So long ago. And I made it my life mission to find it. One last moment to hold onto and…look back to.” A thick single tear slowly rolled down Jungwons cheek. So that was it. That’s why… and everyone had dragged the vulnerable man down, putting even more dirt into his deep wounds.

“I-I searched everywhere. But…but i just…forgot. It’s my last wish before I finish this…” life he wanted to say. Finish his life. It made the school boy unbelievable sad. Oh how much he must’ve suffered his whole life. And before Jungwon could’ve decided differently, a strong feeling of wanting to help and support creeped up to him.

“I’m gonna help you Mr. Kang. We will find your treasure.” Jungwon reassuringly took the heavy, wrinkled hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was the first time since that day, that he felt hope again. Just a tiny tiny splinter but it was there. Hope.

The next hours, both of the males digged holes through the whole garden, not saving any sweat, too focused on finding the mans greatest desire. Mr. Kang had already reached his limit after three holes, following with the 14 year old boy leading him towards an old wooden garden bench to rest on. Jungwon on the other hand was full of verve and energy to fulfill his dearest wish. To find his dearest treasure. Mr. Kang watched him with surprise and thankfulness, never had anyone gone all the way out to help him with something so important to him. There was never someone who he could’ve went to. After that day, he had broken off all the contact with his old friends. He wanted to feel alone at some point. He deserved the pain. That’s what he had always told himself. But now he was old and weak and just wanted nothing more than to be finally reunited with his beloved family. He missed you everyday. He heard his daughters laughters everyday. And he saw his son running around outside in the garden everyday. He finally wanted to be with his family everyday.

It had already gotten dark and cold at this point, Mr. Kang had brought the hard working boy a jacket and a warm tea. The sun was already long gone, just the small lights from the veranda and from the street shined over towards them. Jungwon was still digging, his once tidy school clothes now full of dirt and dust and drenched in sweat. He couldn’t give up. He knew that. So he kept digging and digging. The moon was fondly watching at the pair below, shining just a tad brighter tonight for them. Short friendly small talk about school went quickly over to heartfelt conversations about life and this and that. Nobody, not even the moon, would’ve thought that the bitter, lonely 87 year old Taehyun and the bright, cheerful 14 year old Jungwon would’ve ever even crossed paths, yet life showed again how unpredictable and full of surprises it could be. This night, a tight bond between the two men was woven. So unexpected but yet so lovely.

The clock already told them it was 6 minutes before midnight when another noice cut through the silent night air. A metallic sound. Gasping, Jungwon threw the shovel away, excitement now rushing through his veins. He fell onto his knees, not caring about the moist soil on his trousers. His hands digged through the last part, brown earth now sticking behind his nails, and moments later, he pulled out a medium sized metal box, securely wrapped in plastic. Jungwon felt like he just won the Olympics, he felt like he did it. He did it…

A quick gaze onto the bench showed him the sleeping old man, now seeming even tinier than before. With shaky steps and a weird feeling of proudness and fulfilment, Jungwon waddled over to the sleeping form, gently waking him up. The box in his hands was tightly in his grasp, not letting go. Mr. Kangs heavy lidded eyes flew open in an instant when he saw the metal box in the boys arms. Tears burned in his thankful eyes, reaching towards it with shaking arms. Everything felt heavy, yet his heart felt the lightest it had felt in a long long time.

“Thank you…so much.” Tears were now unstoppable rolling down his cheeks. It squeezed Jungwons heart, knowing he could make this man happy again, fulfilling his last wish. The both of them moved up to the house again, warmth engulfing them with its now familiar scent. Comfort. The old man reassured the boy to stay but seeing the box being opened, Jungwon felt as if he got to see something way too private. But he stayed, looking over the sniffling mans shoulder when he pulled out a small pink toy dolphin. His hands were shaking. “This was my daughters. It was her favorite toy when she was…two years old.”

Taehyuns heart clenched, seeing all his treasures in front of him. He desperately pressed the small toy against his chest, letting all his emotions in. It was intense, yet it was all he ever wanted. Seeing the familiar drawings of a green giraffe, sitting on a cloud with a family next to it. He could read all their names above the figures. Oh Taehee…

Looking through the photographs, old memories surfaced and made the man tear up even heavier. He didn’t knew how much he really had missed them. It was as if his empty shell was slowly filled again, reliving all of your best and worst moments. He saw a picture on his old friends Hueningkais 18th birthday. All of his friends were there, cake smeared all across your faces, the brightest smiles someone could ever see. The day he had first met you… Another picture had all of your friends sitting around a small bonfire, being cuddled inside blankets. Taehyun saw his younger handsome self smiling unsure into the camera with you sitting beside him. He could only laugh sadly at the memories of your camping trip where he first had kissed you, the guilty feeling just as clear.

“She looks so happy here…” Taehyun noticed with a testy smile, gently touching your face on the picture, seeing you and him laying on a bed, arms tightly slung around your frame, as you held the camera. His large eyes showed nothing but the purest form of love as he looked over to you. Oh he was such a lovesick fool. “You were a pretty couple…” Jungwon whispered, glancing over the handsome young man and the pretty women. He wished to find someone in his life later, he could look at with just as much love as he did. Taehyun nodded, pulling out the next photo. It was the two of you kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, big smiles on both of your faces. Taehyun remembered, it was when he courageously decided to fly around half the globe to you to fix your relationship. He didn’t want to give you up, thank god he didn’t. Another photograph showed you holding your first ultrasound picture, tears streaming down your face. You were both so young and already on the way to becoming parents. It was scary, yes it was one of the most scary moments in life but it was all worth it. The next picture showed you in the hospital bed, looking weak, yet happy. Taehyun was kneeing down next to you, his gaze focused on you and the tiny newborn baby in four arms. A tear dropped down onto the photo but he quickly wiped it away. “Our little Taehee…”

The next picture showed a kissing couple dressed in a gorgeous white dress and a neat black suit. The priest between them was smiling fondly at the newlywed couple. On another one he could see the couple dancing in midst of their guests, white petals laying all over the place. Taehyun sobbed, holding a hand over his mouth. Jungwons hand reassuringly squeezed his shoulder. He was there for him. Taehyuns and your parents were dancing next to you, he could see his friend Yeonjun and Beomgyu dancing with each other playfully and many more of their closest circle. It had been so long. And he missed it. It was such a happy memory.

There were other photographs with you being pregnant, both of your baby pictures, your friends and your parents and a ton of little Taehee running around bubbly in her adorable dresses and overalls. Taehyun hadn’t seen these pictures in a while and it tore his heart into a million pieces. The last picture was inside your new house, the house he never could bring over him to leave. You were all sitting on the carpet, smiling into the camera. The little baby boy snuggling closer in his blanket and the girl pressing a soft kiss onto his tiny head. Taehyuns arms were slung around your frame, head laying on your shoulder relaxing. They were so happy. So happy.

He pulled out an edition of your favorite book with a hand written text inside: ‘For Taehee and Taejun- may they find wisdom and happiness in their long lives. From mum and dad’ Taehyun remembered. Oh he remembered everything. You two would always read this book together since your honeymoon, where you discovered it in one of the local bookstores. Since then it had always be your favorite book. And it hurt him seeing his children never got to read it. Their future was just robbed because of one moment. It was unfair. Why did he get to live when they couldn’t? He never understood.

The last thing Taehyun pulled out of the box was the pink letter littered with dozen of glitter stickers. ‘To my love’ stood on top of it in your cursive handwriting. He gulped, knowing exactly this was made for him personally. It was the letter he dreaded reading. The moment he waited for. The reason he wanted to find this box in the first place. His love. Jungwon stood stiff and still next to him, not daring to say a word. With shaking fingers, he carefully opened the envelope without tearing it. He could immediately recognise your pretty handwriting and already teared up when he read over the first sentence. ‘To my dear love Taehyun, whom I always love’ with another nod, he dared reading through the heartfelt letter.

‘So this is where life led us, what? To be quite honest with you, my 17 year old me would’ve never thought about marrying the handsome boy from Hueningkais birthday party, let alone have his children and buy our first house together. Life went wild with us, am I right Tae? But I regret nothing. Not even when I stole your favorite hoodie out of your closet without you knowing. Everyone was so done with my reckless personality and I often felt misunderstood in my younger days as you know. But you just always seemed to just see the best in me. Even when I felt like giving it all up. You were always there for me. And you were the only one to fully understand and accept me how I am. This is something I never told you in person but I can’t remember how life was without you before. In my mind, you were always there and I know that you will always be there for our family in our long future. I hope when you read this, we are both still happily married, watching our children and grandchildren laugh about all our ridiculous photos inside this box. And Taehee, oh she must be so happy to see her favorite toy again haha. Taehyun, you are my best friend, my first love, my first heartache, my true soulmate and the best husband in the whole world. You are and will always be my love, no matter how time will turn our lives around. We are always together. I love you always,

Your dearest wife Y/N

(P.S. don’t worry about getting old, you are still my handsome prince I fell in love with!)’

At this point, Taehyun was a sobbing mess, not caring what the young boy might think of him. This letter had touched his soul, his deepest heart. He felt every word you’ve written just as if it was you whispering each of them into his ear. He never felt the urge that strong before to be by your side, hug you, kiss you all over your face, tell you how beautiful you were and whisper how much he loved you and would forever. His life made sense only with his family by his side. There was nothing left to live anymore for Taehyun. And he knew that for a long time already.

Jungwon in this moment didn’t knew what to do anymore. He felt like he had fulfilled his mission, making the old man happy for a last time. With quiet steps, he took his video camera, he totally had forgotten and put it in his backpack laying on the floor abandoned. It was his sign to leave, let the man dwell in his emotions and memories. He was done here. With careful steps he went closer to the sobbing man again, softly putting his hand on his shoulder. He looked up as if he knew what the boy was about to say.

A small smile was on his wrinkled lips, clenching on the boys heart. He weakly pushed himself up just to pull the sweaty, in dirt covered student into a warm embrace. It was the first hug since ages it felt like. The hug remembered Jungwon of his own grandmother and tears stuck in his throat. He missed her. “Thank you so much, Jungwon. You are a wonderful kid. You’ve fulfilled my dearest wish. I will forever be thankful to you. May you be blessed forever. You were the only one willing to listen. Thank you.” Jungwon nodded in his shoulder, trying not to burst into tears on the spot but failed nevertheless in the end. He was so glad seeing the happy man in front of him, now seeming even younger than before. The deep sunken eyes didn’t seem frightening anymore. They were warm and welcoming. He could see sparkles of youth inside them. Yes, Jungwon did the right thing.

When the clock showed sharply half an hour past midnight, Jungwon bid his farewell to the man, he weirdly would consider his friend now, knowing he could sleep well tonight. Taehyun insisted on him keeping the jacket he gave him as well as one of the pictures inside the box for his school project and as a token of gratitude. On his quiet walk back home, he smiled endearingly down to the old photograph he carefully held in his hand. It was the last picture. Where the family of four smiled happily into the camera, sitting onto the fluffy rug Jungwon recognised now. He would treasure this picture forever. It was a generous gift, knowing how important it had been to Mr. Kang. He was so thankful.

The next day, Jungwon excitedly presented his project in class. Even though his mother yelled at him concerned where he was until this late, he managed to edit the video for his project, tearing up in the process but still felt motivated to keep going. It was important that he made this his best project. Not for him or his grade, no, it was for Mr. Kang. He was determined to change everyone’s horrible opinion about the old man.

It was eye opening for everyone. Even Park Jongsong, the scary older student, couldn’t come up with a counter attack and stared wide eyed at the screen in front of the class. It was freeing, knowing that just a bit of courage and kindness could lead you to such wonderful moments. He changed everyone’s opinion about ‘Killer Kang’. And he managed to make an old sad man happy again.

After school, the kind student hurried over to Mr. Kangs house. In bright daylight, the garden looked like a battlefield with tons and tons of freshly digged soil laying all around. Now with a much happier feeling, Jungwon crossed the chaotic lawn, knocking energetically onto the old wodden door. After a while he still hadn’t heard any steps so he tried knocking again. “Mr. Kang? It’s Jungwon. I wanted to show you the finished project. It went amazing.” The boy excitedly bounced on the balls of his feet, too giddy to stand still. There was still no answer, so Jungwon made his way towards the backyard, now being familiar with every inch. He had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomache.

And when he saw the open veranda, the old man sitting in his mould on the old couch, Jungwon let out a relieved breath. With careful steps not to step inside one of the many holes in the ground, he made its way over to Mr. Kang, not without knocking on the wall outside. Still no answer. Maybe he hasn’t heard it or he was sleeping. Jungwon waddled over to the familiar couch, seeing Mr. Kang sitting in his usual spot with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful, Jungwon first thought the old man was sleeping tightly. Yet when there was still no answers or reactions from his side and when he noticed there was no movement of his upper body, he understood…

Mr. Kang passed away last night. Tears welled up in Jungwons eyes and he heavily let them flow when he saw all the contents of the metallic box scattered around the small desk in front of him. The photos, sorted into time accuracy, the book untouched, the adorable drawings of his young daughter, the green giraffe smiling cheekily at him. The pink letter was open and the neat handwriting was still the same as yesterday. And in Mr. Kangs hands, layed the pink toy dolphin.

Jungwon went onto his knees beside him on the fluffy carpet, letting his hot tears fall freely without restrictions. He may had lost a friend today but he knew deep down, the old kind man was happily reunited with his family. He had gained everything he lost. And for that…how could Jungwon still be sad?

For now and forever, the courageous 14 year old boy, who acted righteous and kind, carried Kang Taehyuns life story out into the wide world, spread his last words so no one would forget the once mysterious man everyone feared to look at. Kang Taehyun, a man who got everything he wished for and then got it taken away from him. A man, who loved dearly. A man, whose story would never be forgotten.

[rosy-wooyoung]

ATEEZ reaction : surprising them with homemade food

requested: yes, thank you! [honey, I am SO sorry for only doing it now] prompt : their s/o surprising them with homemade food genre : fluff warnings : !! food mention !! (obviously but I prefer repeating it), very poorly written, overbearingly cliché. A/N : so uhm, hi again? this got requested like months ago and i never actually sat down to write it [commitment issues oops] but now I’m happy that i actually manage to do it today! Also don’t mind the mistakes, pleaaaase I feel like I speak like a 5-year old when I have to write something in english (even though I have an c1 diploma in english sdfjhsf i’m so sorry if it’s bad)

Hongjoong

Songwriter!Hongjoong

You finished eating dinner near 8 pm and laid on the couch after doing the dishes.

After having patiently waited for your boyfriend to come home, you decided to go to bed as the clock neared midnight, still no trace of him.

It’s only when you washed your face and applied your serum that you changed your mind.

Putting on your shoes and your coat, you grabbed the plastic bag carrying the Tupperware filled with the food you had prepared for dinner and made your way out the door.

You weren’t keen on walking alone at night, but fortunately, his studio wasn’t that far, so you managed to make it safely there.

Knocking on the wooden door, you received no answer, so you slightly pulled the door open, only to be met with silence.

Hongjoong had noise-cancelling headphones latched on his ears, head bobbing at a certain rhythm as he scribbled some lyrics in his brown leather notebook.

The notebook he carried everywhere, even when he was around you.

Sometimes, he would get inspiration just by watching you sleep, read or cook. Writing down whatever crossed his mind, he never showed you what they said. 

However, you paid no mind to his privacy. You respected that he kept it a secret, you did the same with your poetry book.

You knew how it felt when someone read pieces of art you’ve created, you feel naked and exposed to the reader, and it made your guts churn of anxiety when someone even tried to look into your notebooks.

But now, you had a problem to deal with. How do you make yourself noticeable without scaring your boyfriend to death? 

Banging your fist on the door didn’t work and calling his name didn’t work either.

He jumped out of his skin when you softly placed a hand on his shoulder, a yelp unintentionally coming out of his mouth. 

Turning around, he noticed your figure and laid a hand on his chest, the other grabbing your forearm as a sign of affection.

“Sorry baby, I didn’t know how to make myself noticeable.” You said with an apologetic look, but Hongjoong waved it off.

“It’s okay, sugarplum. Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

“Well, since it’s past midnight and you weren’t coming back, I decided to bring a piece of home to you and brought you this.” You lifted the plastic bag and handed it to him. It was his turn to look at you, remorse filling his eyes as he realised that he lost the notion of time and stayed behind at the studio to produce.

“Thank you baby, but I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and he stood up, hugging you tightly as he kissed your cheek. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“It’s nothing, baby. You should eat now, it’s going to cool down,” you whispered as you let go and he sat down, drawing another chair to have you by his side. He kissed your temple before you rushed him to eat, noticing his eyebags and his tiredness written all over his face.

You were getting tired as well, but Hongjoong was a hundred times worth it to stay up late at night, to see him with a bright smile and adoring eyes on his face as he tasted the food you cooked.

Seonghwa

CEO!AU 

“Hello Miss, where can I find the office of Mr Park?”

“Park Seonghwa?” the receptionist said, and you nodded, replacing a piece of hair behind your ear. “The head department is on the 19th floor, at the far end of the left corridor.” You thanked her and made your way to the elevators, waiting with other employees.

You greeted people you knew by sight with a nod and a smile, going to the floor reception. Some people stopped talking, listening to your words.

“Excuse me, is Mr Park Seonghwa here?”

“Yes, but he’s currently in a meeting. It’ll end in a few minutes,” she said, looking up what seemed to be his schedule on the computer. “Do you have an appointment with him?”

“Oh no,” you stuttered as you could almost feel his coworkers’ eyes on you, “I’m just his wife, and I need to give him something he forgot at home.”

“No problem, I’ll guide you to his office. Please follow me,” she announced, standing up, her heels clicking on the white tiles. You awkwardly smiled and bowed at his colleagues and followed the secretary, thanking her as she showed you the door of his office.

Your husband appeared a couple of minutes later, reading a file while talking on the phone. You cleared your throat, and Seonghwa looked up, his phone almost falling from the shoulder that was pressing it against his ear.

“Can you please fix a schedule with my secretary, I have a lot of work to deal with right now. Yes, yes thank you. Have a nice day too. Goodbye Sir.” he ended his phone call, sliding his smartphone in his pants pocket. 

Tenderly looking at you, he smiled and approached you.

“Honey, baby. I didn’t expect you to see you here,” he warmly said before capturing your lips in a sweet yet passionate kiss, an arm wrapping around your waist.

“I’m because my husband, whose head is constantly into business, forgot his lunch before going to work this morning,” you stated as you lifted the brown paper bag, his eyes widening as his shoulders softly subside in relief.

“What did I do to deserve a wonderful wife like you?” he asked as he took the bag, kissing your cheek at the same time.

“I don’t know, but your wonderful wife would appreciate that her husband wouldn’t forget his lunch every day because she’s taking time on her lunch break to bring the food to him.” You arched a brow, and he chuckled, his arm never leaving your waist.

“I love you,” he muttered, and you softly kissed his lips.

“I love you too. Enjoy your lunch darling,” you said as you made your way towards the door, shooting him a smile before walking away.

Little did you know that once you were out of sight, he went out to the lunchroom to eat his food - something that he never did -, showing off the fact that his wife came to bring him lunch.

He earned the complaints and whines from his colleagues, whose partners didn’t even look at them when they came home. 

And with that, he asked his secretary to cancel a meeting in the early evening to come home earlier than you, preparing you a nice, lovely dinner to thank you for your gesture. 

Yunho

Architect student!Yunho

In the small apartment that you shared with your lovely Yunho, you were about to prepare dinner, but you realised that there was nothing in the fridge. 

Quickly turning off the stove, you put on your shoes and jacket and made your way out the door, a quick trip to the convenience store.

You arrived in front of the store as the sun was setting, the last rays of sunshine hitting the windows, sending beautiful scenery in front of you.

You knew that Yunho was working hard, as much as you did, but you wanted to surprise him a bit, so you decided to buy the ingredients to cook his favourite food.

Packs of meat, vegetables and rice in your bag, you were off to go home.

Riding the bus, you checked that you had everything and stepped off at your stop. 

Yunho hadn’t moved from his spot while you were absent. He was still focused on his work, an HB pencil in one hand and a ruler in the other.

You placed everything down on the counter and started working on your duty.

Boiling water, grilling the meat and stirring the vegetables in a pot. You were so in your thoughts that you didn’t even register your boyfriend walking in the kitchen, sneaking his arms around your waist while prepping your shoulder with kisses.

“What’s cooking, good looking,” you snorted at the pun, and he chuckled, kissing your cheek as you cooked the meat while stirring the veggies.

“Open up, handsome,” you say as you bring a piece of meat to his mouth with the spatula. He opened his mouth, and you dropped the piece of meat on his extended tongue, munching on it after kissing you.

“Maybe two more minutes? But otherwise, it’s perfect, I liked the way you seasoned it, baby,” he stated, and you smile, stirring the food for a couple more minutes.

While eating, Yunho looked exhausted but happy. He did a little happy dance when you placed the plate in front of him, earning a kiss on the cheek for taking care of everything.

“I know we can get pretty busy with college and work,” he started before taking a sip of water, the food feeling extremely hot in his mouth, “but I’m glad we established a pattern of regularly eating together,” he admitted, smiling as he reached across the table for your hand.

“It feels good to be just the two of us, it’s sometimes tiring to have someone around constantly,” he nodded at your words, his thumb softly rubbing your knuckles.

“You’re right, our friends can get pretty hectic,” he chuckled and so did you, the subject of the conversation coming back on studies.

“So, how’s your project doing?” you demanded, and he just shrugged.

“It’s sometimes hard to get inspiration, but once I get it, everything goes smoothly,” you nodded and kept listening as your partner explained his work, a passionate sparkle in his eyes, outshining the ceiling light hanging above your heads.

“So yeah, we’ll see how it goes. Normally, if I didn’t mess up too much, my professor should be happy about the plans.”

“Why wouldn’t he be happy?” you questioned as you took the last piece of food that you had on your plate before crossing your cutlery.

“I mean… There are elements of my imagination in my work,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, his warm hand leaving yours, “but I took into account every piece of advice that you gave me since the beginning of my work, and honestly, I think I wouldn’t have gotten this far without them.”

“Oh shut it,” you snorted at your boyfriend, but immediately calmed down as you noticed the same serious expression on his face, “are-are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” he smirked, and you both stood up, going back to the kitchen to fill up the dishwasher.

“But you’re the one majoring in architecture, not me,”

“I know,” he retorted as he wiped the counter, “but it sometimes helps to have an outside point of view. Someone who doesn’t constantly have their nose in the theory and lecture notes is very helpful for creativity. You’re my muse Y/N, you have such amazing ideas that everything seems brighter and easier when you help.”

You chuckled at your boyfriend’s praise and went for a hug, squeezing him tight around you.

“I’m so happy that we’re together,” you said as you laid your head against his chest, his hand going into your hair.

“You don’t know how much I love you Y/N,” he said as he kissed the crown of your head.

“I think I have an idea,” you said as you looked up at him.

“No, you don’t, I love you more than you can ever see or imagine,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips on yours in a sweet kiss. He was giving you all the love and affection he had for you in this kiss, and you felt complete.

Yeosang

Idol!Yeosang

Waking up to the sound of your alarm, you were quick to turn it off to not wake up your boyfriend sleeping next to you.

Forcing yourself to start your day this early is such a pain in the ass, but your income makes it motivating and worth it. Plus, you wanted to save time for tonight because you knew how lazy you could get when it came to cooking.

So, at 6 am, you put on an apron over your pyjamas and started cooking the meal for tonight - Yeosang’s favourite - while preparing your breakfast at the same time.

Being good at multitasking has its perks after all.

Around an hour and a half later, you were done with cooking and washing the dishes, now getting ready to go to work.

The sun was rising, making the task of getting out of your comfortable apartment a little less painful.

Yeosang didn’t move an inch when you closed the main door, still dead asleep in your shared bed.

It was his first day off after going a few months without truly resting, and you could tell that his body needed it. When he came home last night, he was slow and could barely keep his eyes open during the show you chose to watch, he was tempted to use your shoulder as a pillow.

But it was one of the rare times that he could spend alone with you so he wouldn’t let that pass.

It was finally midday when you looked at your phone, still no news of Yeosang. 

Knowing how tired he was, you didn’t worry about it, he was probably still asleep.

And you were right, his body went into recovery mode.

He woke up around two in the afternoon, shaken awake as a truck honked just under your windows.

Yeosang was still tired even though he slept for over twelve hours, so he decided to stay in bed for a bit longer.

He finally got out of bed around three as the rest of the group asked to play a bit of Among Us with them.

He stayed behind the computer for the rest of the afternoon, deciding to go for a run as the day was coming to an end, only eating a banana while he was getting ready.

It smelt like you had cooked something this morning, so he wanted to wait a bit until you came home to eat with you. 

You were about to close the door behind you when you heard a familiar low voice.

“Y/N, wait!” Yeosang was in his sports equipment, slightly out of breath as you let him in.

“Hi,” you said with a smile as you swiftly pecked his lips. You both took off your shoes, hurrying your boyfriend to take a shower as you entered the kitchen.

You could finally settle down to eat when he appeared from his shower, making your way towards you before prepping your neck with kisses, asking about your day.

“Woah, you cooked my favourite dish?” he asked as you put a plate in the microwave.

“Yes! I figured out that you’d appreciate eating something special on your free day,” you replied, and Yeosang hugged you tightly from behind, giving you a big smooch on your cheek.

“Thank you, love,” he mumbled against your skin as a ‘ding’ drowned his voice out. 

You both sat down on the couch, your plate in hand and enjoyed the food and each other’s company for the rest of the evening.

San

Hacker!San

“Sannie?” you asked as you walked into his dimmed bedroom, his computer screens being the only sources of light in the room, alongside with LEDs ornating the walls.

Headphones screwed on his ears, he rapidly typed on his computer, lines of coding appearing on the screen. San couldn’t hear you, he was a tad bit too focused on his task to pay attention to his surroundings.

As a way to make yourself noticeable, you turned on his bedside lamp, startling him as he took off his blue light glasses, Grime blasting from his headphones as he let them fall around his neck.

“Sweetie, do you need anything?” he said as he spun his chair around, observing you.

You were balancing a plate, a glass filled with coke, a napkin and some cutlery on a trail, carefully making your way towards your boyfriend as you tried not to spill anything on his fancy setup.

“Dinner’s served,” you sweetly chanted as you finally laid the trail in front of him, the smell of fresh, homemade food invading his nostrils.

“Thank you, baby, you’re amazing,” he said as he encircled an arm around your waist, making you fall on his lap. You smiled as he laid a soft kiss on your upper arm, grabbing the fork with his other hand before bringing the food to his mouth. He gratefully hummed and nodded as he munched on it, shooting you a wink as he looked up at you.

“It’s delicious baby girl,” he mumbled after swallowing, directly taking another bite. He lightly frowned as he didn’t see a plate for you. “You already ate?”

“Yeah, I called you a couple of times from the kitchen, but you seemed busy so I didn’t want to bother you,” you said as you shyly tightened your ponytail, a disappointed look growing on his face.

“Y/N, babe,” he started, tightening his grip around your figure as he put the fork down, “you should’ve yelled for me to come to eat with you... You’re my girlfriend, coding and hacking come after you, okay? I love you more than anything, I can and I will put everything aside to spend time with you. So next time, I’ll come downstairs to eat with you, alright? I don’t want to know that you’re eating alone in our home.”

“Yes Sannie, but-”

“Shht, there are no buts,” he said as he kissed you on the lips, keeping on eating the food you cooked for him with you still on his lap after he made sure that this wouldn’t happen again. You watched your boyfriend filling his stomach and talked with him about everything, just catching up on the last few days that you spent separated from each other.

“I love you darling, thank you for the amazing food,” San said as he cupped your face, placing a big, soft kiss on your cheek.

You giggled and slightly moved his beanie, being able to play with the hair at the back of his head.

“I love you too San, I do,” you whispered as you straddled him and rested your head on his collarbone, his hand rubbing your back up and down your spine.

“Wanna cuddle?” he suggested, and you were about to say no since he looked busy, but you caught yourself just on time, his light scolding coming back in your mind.

“Yes, please,” you mumbled, and he approved, removing his headset from his neck and shook the beanie off his head, replacing his hair in a somewhat correct way.

“Alright,” he softly mumbled while wrapping his arms around you, carefully standing up as he laid kisses on your exposed skin. It didn’t matter where it was, every spot that he saw some skin, he had to kiss it.

And that’s how you spent the rest of the night cuddled in San’s arms, his cold hand drawing circled on your stomach, sending shivers in your body as he soothingly rubbed the skin.

Mingi

Dancer!Mingi

You huffed as you nonchalantly threw your phone on the table, your boyfriend being unreachable as you called him for the nth time tonight.

You knew that he was training and improving his dancing skills, but you wished that he could take small breaks here and there.

Not to text you back, you could wait, but for his sanity and health.

There’s a reason between working hard and overworking yourself.

And Mingi seemed to struggle to distinguish the difference between the two notions.

You never said that it was easy, you were struggling as well, but sometimes you wished that he’d understand it better than you do. 

The clock neared midnight, and he still wasn’t home. You started getting slightly irritated as he was probably overworking himself and not eating.

But you couldn’t blame it for that, you did the same when you had big exams or assignments coming up, you tended to ditch breaks and skip meals.

So, since you were caring about your boyfriend’s well being, you stood up and went to the fridge, where a container filled with the potion you had prepared for your boyfriend was.

Putting on a warm sweater and some pants before making your way out, locking the door behind you.

You took a longer road to go to his practice studio, but you found with relief that the convenience store was still open, sighing in relief as you read that it wasn’t going to close anytime soon.

You took drinks for the two of you and some extras as you thought that some of the boys could be still practising, paid and headed to the practice room.

When you arrived, you waved at San, who looked exhausted and sweaty, surprised to see you out at this hour.

“You’re here for your lovely Mingi?” he teased as he declined to give you a side hug due to his current state.

“Yes, I was getting worried since he wasn’t coming home,” you declared, and San smiled, finding adorable that you were looking after your boyfriend.

“You can go, he’s still in the practice room, he’s the only one left.” you thanked him and gave him one of the spare drinks that you bought since you didn’t know who would still be there with your boyfriend. His dimples appeared when he thanked you, and you wished him a good - yet short - night of rest before entering the building.

When you arrived in front of the practice room door, you noticed your boyfriend dancing through the window, and you could see that his movements were slower and less energised than usual.

You slowly opened the door, your eardrums being attacked by loud music, the bass resonating in your stomach as you made yourself seen.

When Mingi saw you, a sort of relieved yet guilty look appeared on his face as he went to the stereo to lower the music.

“Hey,” he said in a whisper, eyes carrying a truck of guilt in them.

“Hi babe,” you said as you handed him the plastic bag, “I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t have eaten, so I went out and bought this for you,” you said as you sat down together, in the middle of the room.

Mingi was more tired than he wanted to show. You had identified a pattern within him, his looks on his face and his figure betraying him. When he was as hunched over as he currently was, you knew that his back was hurting and that he was overworking himself.

However, you didn’t say anything, your behaviour and gaze unintentionally telling him what your opinion was. The silence was the best option. You were both exhausted, and the last thing you wanted to do was to start a fight this late in the evening. 

“Thank you for taking care of me, Y/N,” he said before clenching his jaw to stifle a yawn, but you caught it.

“You’re welcome honey, but you know my opinion on your behaviour,” you added, and he nodded, eating his mouthful.

“I know, I know,” he sighed and kept on eating while you opened the two soda cans laying in front of you. Mingi took a few gulps of it, and you got another one from the plastic bag, your boyfriend looking at you with wide eyes.

“But, let’s not talk about this now, the last thing I wanna do is get in an argument with you,” you said, and he listened, thanking you as you handed him the can. “I already barely see you during the week, so I don’t want to get into a fight when I have an opportunity to see you,” you sighed but smiled anyway, Mingi’s guilt increasing in his heart.

“I’m sorry-” 

“Shht,” you said to your boyfriend as you gently rubbed his back up and down, applying some pressure on spots that you knew were aching. “Are you coming home soon or do you plan on sleeping in the guest room in the building?” you asked as you watch your boyfriend take another bite of the food you had prepared for the two of you.

“Let me finish this amazing food, and we’re going home,” he answered, and you nodded, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s very tasty by the way,” you knew that he was trying to change the subject and you appreciated the effort, trying to forget his neglect of self-care and simply smiled at him.

When he finished his meal, you stood up and put everything in the trash, noticing in the mirror that Mingi struggled to get up, a grimace abruptly replacing the smile he was giving you moments ago. As soon as you turned to face him, he tried his best to erase the pain off his face. You didn’t raise it, but you made a mental note to yourself to try and reason him later. And, if it wasn’t working, you’d call Hongjoong for help. Maybe he’ll listen to him. 

The walk home was silent, quite awkward. Your boyfriend tried his best to be as natural as possible, but his back pains were making him hiss and silently groan in pain at almost every step he took.

“Okay, maybe I did a bit too much tonight,” he said as his voice hesitated, alerting you. He looked broken, his bottom lip between his teeth as he kept on walking to your place, feeling a wave of relief as your apartment building came into sight. 

You held his hand and grabbed his forearm with your other free hand, helping him to walk until you finally arrived in front of the elevator.

As soon as you entered your home, you sped to the bathroom and ran a warm bath, sprinkling some relaxing salt in it before helping Mingi to take off his shirt.

Once he was done, you helped him to get out of the tub and took care of him. He stared at you in awe as you dried his hair with the blow dryer and assisted him in putting on his pyjamas before walking him to bed.

Quickly doing your nighttime routine, you walked to your bed with heating patches as your boyfriend was already lying on his stomach, the most relieving position for him to sleep into. You slightly pressed some areas in his back, and you applied some patches where he grunted more loudly.

“Alright, now rest, baby,” you kissed his cheek, and he extended his hand to grab yours.

“Thank you for everything, baby,” he said as you shook your head with a faint smile, feeling the tiredness getting the best of you.

"It's okay, Mingi," you whispered as he lifted your linked hands to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand, a loving gesture that you particularly appreciated.

“Sleep well, baby, and think about what we’ve talked about at the studio, okay?” you mumbled, giving him one last kiss before falling asleep, still holding his hand.

“I love you,” Mingi mumbled before falling asleep, as well. 

Wooyoung

College AU

Entering the library, you tried your best to hide the plastic bag from the librarian, hoping that she wouldn’t notice the smell of food following you like your shadow.

You weren’t allowed to bring food inside the library, school authorities were scared that you’d stain the books or not clean the tables, which was the case when you went to work in the library.

You had always found this disrespectful that people would leave their trash on the tables without cleaning, it exasperated you.

Why was it so complicated to put your trash in a bin?

But since you thought that you were quite a clean, hygienic student, you allowed yourself to sneak in food for you and your friends.

When you arrived near your friends, Mingi was the first one to spot you, hungry for the content of the plastic bags you were carrying.

Your friends discreetly clapped their hands as you arrived as a hero at the table. You shushed them when they got a bit too excited over the food, reminding them that you weren’t supposed to eat there.

Since you were the one that went and bought the food, you were the one distributing the small containers the Chinese takeout the employees had put the food in.

Wooyoung was the only one who was kind of sulky because he wasn’t fond of the place you bought the food from since that event. That event where one of the cooks had put in a sauce containing bell pepper, and he hated them.

He always associated this restaurant with this event, and now he doesn’t set foot at this establishment anymore.

But before he could even say anything, you took the container in front of him and gave him a blue bento box, making him frown yet didn’t say anything.

“Enjoy, everyone!” you whispered as you all started to eat. 

You slightly observed your friend’s reaction next to you as he opened the container.

Wooyoung discovered that his food had nothing to do with Chinese takeout. It was homemade food, cooked by you and his eyes opened wide.

You giggled as he took his fork and started eating hastily, munching on the food with closed eyes and a content look on his face.

“Is it good?” you questioned, and Wooyoung eagerly nodded, taking another bite as he didn’t even swallow his first one. 

“It’s perfect,” he answered, rice almost falling from his mouth as it was full. Hongjoong, who was sitting next to you, slightly elbowed you in the ribs, a smug look on his face.

Wooyoung wasn’t expecting the fact that you would make a detour to your apartment to take and heat homemade food just for him. 

He was touched, but now he was too focused on devouring his plate to care about anything surrounding him.

A few moments later, as he had finally emptied the lunch box, he rested back a bit, a hand on his stomach.

“Wow, I’m full,” he said as a hiccup took over him, immediately slapping his mouth as the sound came out of his organism. 

“Did you see at the pace you ate? Y/N isn’t even done yet,” you puffed as Seonghwa took you as an example, known among your friend group that you were the quickest to shove your food down your throat.

“It was worth it, though,” Wooyoung said, and you shook your head, the indirect compliment sending warmth to your cheeks. 

“And what do you say to Y/N?” Hongjoong said before taking a sip of coke as if he was a mother scolding her child.

“Thank youuuuu,” he said as his voice trailed on the last word, resting his head against your forearm, only to have you put your fork down and ruffle his hair, a way you use to say “you’re welcome” when your mouth was full.

Once you were all done with eating, you placed everything back in the plastic bags and started working again, Wooyoung’s head never leaving the spot on your upper arm.

You didn’t mind him, you were sometimes adjusting his head as your muscles started getting sore, but nothing much.

A while later, as you wanted to stretch your arms above your head, you woke Wooyoung up, his head almost slamming on the table as you moved your arm.

“Mmh?” he said as he woke up, wiping the fatigue away from his eyes, nodding as you asked him if he was alright. “Food coma is kicking hard right now,” he added, and you smiled, relieved that he felt a bit better after his nap. 

“It’s okay, but you need to go to bed now, it’s getting late,” you said as you packed your stuff in your backpack, putting your coat back on.

“You’re going home already?”

“Yes, it’s almost midnight, and I have a presentation tomorrow at eight,” you explained as a pained smile drew on his face, and you agreed with him by nodding. 

“I’m out now, good night guys!” you said to your friends as you stood up, waving goodbye as some of them looked like they would leave this place near dawn.

You bid farewell to the librarian as well and braved the freezing night, hurrying home as not to catch a cold.

And run into someone suspicious and creepy but that’s another thing.

“Y/N!” someone said behind you as you paused in your steps, recognising your friend’s voice.

“Woo? Aren’t you staying with them?"

“No, I’m tired, I honestly don't know how I'm still awake,” he said, and you started walking again with him by your side.

“And…” he stopped in his tracks, and you frowned but imitated him. “I wanted to thank you for being considerate and caring towards us, but particularly towards me,” he said, and you chuckled, waving it off.

“Of course, you are all my friends after all,” you said with a smile as you looked at your friend, who had an indecipherable look on his face.

“That’s... that’s the problem, Y/N,” you looked at him confused and blinked, not knowing where he was coming from.

“What do-”

“Y/N, I like you,” he blurted out, your eyes widening in surprise, not expecting him to confess right now, in the middle of the night in the freezing cold when you could both fall asleep standing up. “More than friends,” he added, and you nodded while looking away, feeling the red spreading on your cheeks. Your friend took a step closer and cupped your face with his cold hand to make you look at him.

“What about you? I've been dying to know, even if you don't feel the same,” he said in a breath, and you inhaled sharply, confused about the sudden question.

“I- I think I do too b-”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he said, and you suck in a breath, anticipating his next move.

“Can I kiss you?” Wooyoung asked, face dangerously close to yours, his eyes going back and forth between your eyes and your lips.

“Of course.” 

Jongho

College AU, Student abroad AU

“Mom?” you asked as you came into the living room, your iPad with a Chrome tab opened in hand.

“Yes honey?” she answered, looking up from the TV, your dad slightly huffing as he couldn’t hear the news.

“You know Jongho, right?” she nodded at her words, initiating you to keep going, “I’ve just gotten off the phone with him, and he seems very sad and down,” you explained as you sat down next to her.

Your dad’s attention immediately shifted to you and your mother as a boy was brought up in the conversation.

“Who-”

“Honey, no, it’s not her boyfriend,” your mother said, and your dad blinked, surprised by her reaction and shrugged, his attention going back on the telly. “And? Do you want to do something to cheer him up?”

“Well, I concluded that he’s a bit homesick, so I wanted to prepare a Korean dish for him. Wanna help?” Your mother agreed and stood up from her seat, fixing her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“Sure!” she says as she washed her hand. “So, kimchi fried rice. What do we need?”

A few hours later, here you were, in the kitchen with your mom, right back from a trip to the convenience store to get the ingredients. You read a bunch of recipes and even watched a tutorial, trying your best to make it as similar as possible to the way they made it in South Korea.

You were struggling a bit at first, but everything turned out alright in the end, happily placing the mixture in a safe spot to let it rest for a couple of days. You were proud and satisfied with what you’ve created, truly hoping that it would heal his visible homesickness.

A few days later, you placed a container filled with your preparation in a paper bag along with your lunch and went out the door after saying goodbye to your parents, who were still eating breakfast. For once, you were happy to go to college, because you were dying to see Jongho and his potentially positive reaction. 

The lectures go faster when you pay attention to the teachers, amazing. In no time, here you were in the cafeteria, eyes scanning the crowd to see your friend. Once you caught sight of your “target”, you made your way over and sat across from him, a gentle yet faint smile decorating his face when he saw you.

“Hi Y/N,” he said after swallowing a piece of his industrial sandwich. He looked heavyhearted and tired as if he had spent the entire night on his phone speaking with his family on the other side of the world.

“Are you okay?” you sweetly asked, and he weakly nodded, and you kept staring at him. “You sure?” you raised your eyebrow with a concerned look, and he just shrugged.

“My feelings didn’t really subside,” he stated as he referred to the conversation he's had over the phone with you the other night. You reached across the table and softly rubbed his forearm, the gesture making him weakly smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how I can help,” you say, and he shook your head.

“I appreciate your kindness Y/N, but I don’t think you can do anything about this…” his voice faded as he thickly swallowed, the sight of your friend being so close to crying made you pout.

“Okay,” you said as you withdrew your hand, Jongho internally whining at the lack of warmth. You searched in your bag and pulled out two steaming lunch boxes, one for you.

And one for him.

“What is this?” he asked as he turned the box between his hands.

“It’s a surprise! Open it,” you smiled as you innocently opened yours, stabbing your hot food with your fork.

Taking the lid off, his eyes widened, going back and forth between the kimchi and you, sitting across from him with a soft smile on your face.

“You seemed so down last time we called,” you said as you ate a spoonful of your lunch, “so I made you a dish with my mom that I remembered you liking. I know it won’t bring your family to you, but it’s still something I guess,” you explained as Jongho pursed his lips, nodding at your explanations, never looking at you in the eyes.

It took you a few seconds to register what was happening, and you drop your fork in your box.

He was crying.

You stood up and sat down next to him, circling your arm around his shoulders.

“Oh Jongho,” you said in a concerned tone, “I didn’t mean to make you cry, I just wanted to make you happy. I know how hard it is when you miss your home and family, I just wanted to give you a bit of family love and warmth that you can’t have right now.”

“Thank you so much Y/N, really,” he said as he sniffled, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. He chuckled as he realised how emotional he's just gotten over food, and he turned to the side to give you a proper hug. 

“Thank you,” he whispered in your ear and squeezed you tight against him, feeling his rapid heart beating against your chest.

“It’s okay, Jongho. Taste it first, I wanna know if we can make you some more further in the school year,” you gently rubbed his upper back and he smiled, grabbing your fork from your lunch box.

“It’s delicious,” he said as he munched on the kimchi fried rice, reaching for your hand and rubbing your knuckles. 

He looked at you with such adoration in his eyes that you got shy and flustered, your hands going clammy as he wholeheartedly approved your work, taking another bite of the food.

“You’re welcome,” you said in a soft voice, and you smiled at each other, enjoying each other’s company for the rest of the lunch break.

___

A/N: I like it but not a lot... I don’t like it. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it!!  

[atlafan]

Office Neighbors - Part Two

a/n: here we are! a little shorter than part one, but there’s some good stuff in here I think! enjoy! (also reblogs/feedback is super helpful) not proofread

warnings: fluff, slight smut (but not with who you think) 

words: 10K

masterpost

You groan heavily when your alarm goes off at 5AM Tuesday morning. You wanted to make sure your body had time to go to the bathroom before Harry picked you up. You knuckle at your eyes, and then get out of bed. You make yourself a quick iced coffee, and then get dressed. You decide on a cropped pair of leggings and one of your t-shirts that wicks away sweat. You pack an extra pair of socks, another shirt, and another sports bra just in case you get really sweaty. You make yourself some trail mix, and throw an extra water into your pack. Harry said he would bring actual sandwiches for the two of you. You get your ponytail through your hat, and use the bathroom again before waiting him.

Harry: here

You grab your pack and head out to his car. He had similar attire on as he did when you hiked with him the last time. Shorts, a sleeveless top, bandana and clip holding his hair back. You both nod at each other. It was still too early to speak. When you get to the trailhead you both spray each other with bug spray and begin.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” You speak up.

“Why, you in a hurry?” He smirks at you.

“No.” You nudge him. “Just wondering.”

“It’s about two and half miles up. It’s gradual, but there are also some really steep parts. If I were jogging, it would only take a couple of hours, but we can take our time. That’s why I wanted to leave so early.”

“You’ve…you’ve jogged this?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “It’s just running uphill.”

“Big nope from me.” You laugh. “I like the idea of just taking our time.”

“You get a fuller experience that way, I think. Don’t be afraid to tell me you need a break too. Some of the steeper parts are killer.”

“Will do.”

You both talk about your fall courses, what you plan to do differently, if anything. You talk about how you’re actually excited to have some student advisees, and how you might approach the meetings.

“It’s okay not to be super serious. Most importantly, you just need to listen, which you should have no problem with. You’re a good listener.” He says, blushing slightly.

“Sort of trained to be one.” You chuckle. “But I get what you mean. Now that I know the curriculum and the course sequence a little better, I definitely feel more confident to lead them in the…wow…that is steep.” You gulp as you look at the area ahead.

“We’ll just take our time.” He smiles. “It’s not a race.”

You make it up the first steep hump, and you tell him you need a water break.

“Christ, and here I thought I was in shape.”

“Hiking can be pretty humbling.” He uses a rag to wipe some sweat from his forehead, and takes a drink of water as well. “All set?”

“Mhm, let’s keep going.”

Every so often you stop to take pictures, and there is a moment where Harry veers off so he can have a “wee”, as he would call it. You had drank half your bottle of water and you definitely needed to pee too, but you were too embarrassed.

“Are you sure you don’t need to go?”

“I’m fine.”

“Look, that’s a flatter area, you could-“

“What if I get a mosquito bite…down there?” You whisper.

“It’s not mosquito season.” He laughs. “Did you bring some T-“

“Yes.” You mumble.

“So, just go, it’s fine. You’re being silly. I’ll stand right over there and keep watch.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe I’m doing this.” You groan and take the bit of toilet paper you brought out of your bag. Your eyes stay glued to the back Harry’s head while you do your business. You stick your rubbish into a plastic bag and stuff it away, then you use some hand sanitizer. “Okay.”

“All set?” He turns to look at you. “Not so bad, was it?”

“Not something I’d like to make a habit of, but no, it wasn’t terrible.”

It takes about two and half hours to get to the summit. You both were sticky with sweat, but it was worth it from the view alone.

“Oh my god.” You say slowly as you look around. “This is incredible.”

“Isn’t it? I feel so lucky to live here.”

“I’m starting to feel the same way for sure.” You take a few photos before sitting down, letting out a sigh.

You look over at Harry who’s taking his shirt off and your eyes widen. You knew about the birds on his collar bones, but the butterfly and the ferns were a complete surprise. Harry had such a nice body. He was toned, but still had a softness to him. He notices you looking at him and he blushes.

“Sorry, I’m soaked.”

“No, it’s okay…sorry, I just…your tattoos, I haven’t seen those ones.”

“Oh…” He looks down at himself. “I got these so long ago. Got a few more you haven’t seen.” He pulls up one side of his shorts so you can see the tiger on his thigh.

“Didn’t those huge ones hurt?”

“Eh.” He says sitting down next to you, grabbing a sip of his water. “Some did and some didn’t. The trick is to get a little tipsy beforehand.” He winks at you. He leans back on his elbows and closes his eyes for a moment before looking out at the view again.

“You know, I think you had the right idea about the shirt…do you mind?”

“What?”

“Well, if I took mine off for a bit. I packed myself a spare, but-“

“Oh! Yeah, um, I don’t care, uh, do what makes you comfortable.”

You nod and peel your shirt off. You lay it on the ground next to you, feeling better already from the breeze hitting your hot skin. You were glad you thought to wear one of your cuter sports bras. Your heart was racing slightly, mostly because it had been a while since you had last taken your clothes off in front of someone, but it was just Harry, after all.

“I brought some peanut butter sandwiches, are you hungry? I know it’s not exactly lunch time, but-“

“That sounds amazing, I’m starving. I didn’t eat beforehand.”

“You didn’t?!” He sits up fully.

“I didn’t want to have to…really go to the bathroom.”

“Oh, Y/N.” He laughs while he gets the sandwiches out of his pack. “Here.”

“Thank you.” She notices his eyes drift to her cleavage. It was only for a moment, and she didn’t mind it.

“No problem.”

If Harry were twenty-years-old he’d probably try to make a move. Kiss you, press you up against a tree, fuck, put his hand over your mouth so other hikers wouldn’t be able to hear you moan. But he wasn’t twenty-years-old, he was thirty-two, and he had an eleven-year-old son who he wouldn’t want to treat a woman like that. He wanted to set a good example, to show him how a respectful man treats a woman. So, he eats his own sandwich, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but your body.

“Do you want some trail mix?” You take it out of your bag.

“Sure! Thanks.” He reaches his hand in the bag and takes some out.

You guzzle down some more of your water and stand up. You didn’t want to sit too long and get stiff.

“Harry, would you take my picture?”

“Of course.” He stands up and takes your phone. He smiles at your smile as he snaps the photo.

“How about a selfie?”

“Of the two of us?”

“Yeah.”

“Like this?” You made him so fucking nervous, he was never like this with anyone else.

“I don’t care if you don’t. I’ll just stand here, and you can stand in front of me to get the shot.”

“Oh, right.” He thought to maybe put his arm around you, but that clearly wasn’t happening. You both smile and he takes the shot.

“Do you two want a picture?” A woman says. She was with a couple of other people. “I’d be happy to take it for you.”

“That would be great!” You snatch your phone from Harry’s hand and give it to her. “Are you still sweaty?” You look up at him.

“I don’t think so.”

“Good.” You put your arm around his waist, and he puts an arm around you, hand on your shoulder.

“Alright, I took a couple.”

“Thank you so much, would your group like any?”

“Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

You take a few photos for the group and then you look over the photos of you and Harry.

“These are great.” You smile and show him.

“You’ll send those to me, yeah?”

“Of course.”

“I’m walking down like this, I don’t wanna get my spare shirt sweaty. I was thinking we could grab a real lunch after this…if you don’t mind me taking up your entire day that is.”

“I would love nothing more than to stuff my face after this, Har.”

You decide to just go down in your sports bra, not wanting to get your spare shirt sweaty either. The way down feels like it takes no time at all. It was definitely easier to hike down a mountain than to hike up a mountain. That is, until you got to one of the steeper parts.

“Just step down on the side and take slow steps. Don’t go straight down.”

“Would, um, hold my hand? I’m a little nervous.”

“Of course.” He looks back at you and takes your hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

He helps you down the steeper parts, taking your hand each time until things get more gradual again. You feel incredibly proud of yourself once you’re back at the parking area.

“That was amazing, Harry. I feel amazing.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“Andy’s done that with you before?”

“Oh, sure. Plenty of times.”

“Incredible.” You chuckle as you grab your spare bra and shirt from your pack. Harry dabs his chest with a rag before putting his t-shirt on. “Shit, where should I change?”

“Um…backseat?”

“I’ll just be a second.”

He nods and waits outside the car while you quickly change. You feel so much relief letting your breasts free, giving yourself a second to cool off before putting your fresh bra on. You pull your t-shirt on overhead and get out to sit in the passenger seat. Harry hops in the driver’s seat and off you go.

“I can’t believe it’s only 12:30.”

“Another benefit of getting up early. Did you see how full the lot was? People are so uneducated. I’d never start a hike now.”

“I know! There were so many people going up when we were coming down. I couldn’t believe it.”

“And now they’ll have to rush.”

“Have you ever hiked at night before?”

“I have, actually. I used to help lead this moonlit hike thing during move-in weekend for first year students. It was a lot of fun.”

“How come you stopped?”

“Not a junior faculty anymore.” He shrugs. “I just didn’t feel like it after a certain point. I still help with other things, but I definitely don’t give up all my free time to the school anymore.”

“I volunteered for that casino night last fall. I was on campus until almost midnight, I was pooped. Sometimes those kids make me feel so old.”

“You’re not old.” He chuckles.

“I mean, I know, I just feel out of touch sometimes.”

“How can a person who studies social media feel out of touch?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“It’s more so the lingo. I was giving a lecture, and I made a really great point, and when I was done one student shouted ‘period’ and everyone laughed. I had to look it up on urban dictionary.” You both laugh at that.

Harry drives into town, and parks near the local diner.

“How do you feel about brunch?”

“Sounds amazing.”

You both get out and head inside. The morning rush was gone already, so you’re sat right away. You both inhale your food. Greasy hash browns and omelets. And coffee, a lot more coffee. You split the bill and Harry starts the drive to your apartment.

“So, you’ll hike with me again?”

“I’ll hike with you again.” You nod with a smile. “Do you think Andy will be jealous?”

“Nah, he already knows. I’m sure he’ll be expecting lots of details.”

“About what?”

“Um, just how the view was and all that.”

“Right.” He pulls up in front of your house, and you both look at each other. “One of these days you’ll let me pick you up.” You unbuckle your seat belt and he nods. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime.”

“I’d hug you…but I’m a little gross, so…”

“No worries.”

“Well…” You weren’t sure what the next time you were going to see him was.

“Sometimes, while Andy is still in school, I’ll use the library on campus to work on things. It’s got a/c…less stuffy than our offices. I usually only go on a rainy day, but-“

“Cute, we can study together like classmates.” You giggle. “I’ll let you know if I decide to use the space.” You smile and get out of the car.

//

Harry was enjoying his shower, it was quick, but it was good to clean off. He throws on some comfy clothes and nearly dozes off on the couch.

“Dad, I’m home!” Andy shouts, immediately waking him up. “How was the hike?” He plops down on the couch next to Harry.

“It was good, Y/N had a nice time.”

“Is she going to come camping with us?”

“I’m…not sure.” He sighs. “That’s not something just a friend would join in on, you know?”

“I don’t, but…”

“I’m not going to press her about it, I think she’s thinking it over. We’ve got time yet…” He sits up a little straighter. “When Mum comes to get you on Friday she’s going to come in for a bit and chat.”

“About what?”

“What you want to do this summer.”

“I spend summers with you.”

“Yes, but usually you spend the school year with her, that’s why you get me over the summer.”

“You don’t want me this summer?” He leans into him to rest his head on Harry’s chest, and Harry puts his arm around his son.

“Of course I do, but your Mum wants you too. I don’t know, I’m going to propose she get you for July, and I get you for August, I think that’s a good compromise, but she may not see it that way.”

“What about June?”

“Well, you have school for most of June, so you could go be with her end of June through July. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? I wouldn’t hate having my own lake to swim in every day.”

“I guess that’s true…and Noah’s boat is pretty cool.” He sighs.

“I just wanted to give you the heads up.”

“Thanks.”

Harry was up reading in bed later that night. The rain had started and he could hear it tapping on his window, almost starting to lull him to sleep. He heard his phone buzz and his eyes lit up when he saw it was you.

You: hey! Almost forgot to send these to you!

You sent along all of the photos from the day.

Harry: thanks! Really glad that lady was there to take these of us

You: me too…so when exactly is this camping trip?

Harry: middle of June…when Andy gets out of school…June 20th I think

You: if I really won’t be intruding, I think I’d like to go. I’m trying to do more things to get out of my comfort zone

Harry: are you serious?! He’ll be so excited…I mean, I’m excited too.

Harry: I think he wants his friend Brandon to come so having another adult there would be a huge help

He didn’t want his first text to sound too eager.

You: lol well I’m happy to help how I can ;p you’ll tell me what to pack and all that right? I literally have no idea what I would need for overnight stuff

Harry: if you can get yourself a sleeping bag you’ll be all set, I have two tents and a ton of camping stuff. You would just want to bring your own food, clothes, etc.

You: alright sounds good :)

//

Harry hadn’t told Andy about you coming on the trip just yet. He wanted to save it as good news in case the conversation about summer with Paige didn’t go well.

“I guess let’s just start.” Paige says after eating a quick dinner with Harry and Andy in Harry’s home. “Ideally, what would you prefer?” She asks her son.

“To not go back and forth a lot. It stresses me out, I feel like I need to remember every little thing I don’t have two of.”

“Do you have any vacations or anything planned?” Harry asks, looking at his planner. “Right now for us it’s just the camping trip, and that’ll only be the weekend he gets out of school.”

“I was hoping to have him for the fourth. The Barrett’s are coming to staycation at the rental two doors down.”

“Really?!” Andy perks up. “I like when they visit.”

“So…why not spend the rest of June with me,” Harry begins. “You could do July with mum, and then come back to me mid-August.”

“That actually sounds good to me.” Paige says.

“What about Brandon?”

“It’s only a thirty minute drive, I’m sure his dad won’t mind it when you two wanna hang out. Hell, I’ll even come pick you up and bring back here if need be.”

“And if there’s a weekend you wanna just come see Dad in July, you can. You won’t be held hostage.”

“It’s just…you work during the day, Mum.”

“I know honey, but Noah’s got the home office. He can stay in with you and Rachel, and you two could go swimming and have fun at the lake. He could take you on boat rides too.”

“Okay.”

“Really?” She says.

“Yeah, I think all that seems fair.” He looks at the two of them. “I know…I know I can be sort of difficult sometimes, and I’m really grateful that I got to spend the school year with Dad, and I really hope I get to do it again…”

“I think that can be arranged.” Paige smiles. “You’ve never done so well in school, we’re both so proud of you.”

“Yeah, bud, I think this school was a good fit for you.”

“So…I’ll be able to do it again next year, I can keep living with you?”

“If that’s what you want, Mum and I are okay with this new arrangement.”

Andy shoots out of his seat and hugs the both of them.

“Go on and get your things for the weekend, sweetheart.” Paige smiles.

“Okay!” Andy races into his room.

“You’re surprisingly cool with all this.” Harry says to her as they both stand.

“I want him to be happy, and if he’s happier here then what can I do?” She shrugs. “Are you alright continuing to take all this on?”

“Yeah, plus he’s getting older. He can be home for a bit before I am.” Paige hums her response. “How, um, how did you feel about my friend?”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“She was really nice! She seems sweet, why?”

“She’s going to come camping with us.” Harry whispers. “And I just wanted to make sure you felt comfortable with it.”

“Oh, Harry.” Paige smiles. “Thank you, yeah, I’m perfectly fine with it. Andy seems to really like her.”

“Who?” Andy says, coming out with his backpack and duffle.

“Y/N.” Harry says. “I told her how you wanted Brandon to come camping, and I’ll need some help, so she’s coming camping with us.”

“She is?! Oh my god, we gotta work on your flirting then, Dad. You need help.”

“Excuse me? I’m great at flirting.” He scoffs. “Back me up.” He says to Paige.

“It’s true, Andy.” She chuckles. “Your dad can really turn on the charm when he wants to.”

“Well, you didn’t see him trying to ask her to come to my birthday party. I thought he was going to wet his pants!” He laughs.

“Oi, I was just trying to play it cool before you blurted it out.”

“So, what, you have a thing for her?” Paige asks.

“I like her, yeah.”

“Does she like you?”

“She must if she’s coming overnight with us, right?”

“You know, I’ve never really known you to hold back with a woman you liked before…” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“I work with her, it’s a little more complicated. She’s mentioned a couple of times how she doesn’t think dating in the workplace is smart, just offhand, so I’ve been nervous.”

“I think you guys should hang out again before the trip.” Andy says. “Oh! You could go to her place to help her pack.”

“I’m not gonna invite myself over!” Harry rolls his eyes. “Alright, that’s enough. Go have a good weekend with Mum.”

Andy laughs and gives his dad a hug before leaving with Paige.

//

“God, you feel so good, it’s been way too long.” Ray grunts in your ear. “Should have never stopped doing this.”

Ray was an old flame from your previous institution. You decided to go home to Boston this weekend because your brother had some new recipes he wanted you to try. You happened to bump into Ray at a bar, and went with him back to his place for some promised fun. He was a decent enough fuck, he knew how to scratch your itch, and that was good enough right now. Although, you didn’t feel the need to answer his dirty talk. You just grunt and moan and try to focus on what you’re after.

You’re close, but you’re not quite getting there. He was fucking into you from behind, and hitting the right spots, but it wasn’t…it just wasn’t…

Harry.

Your fingers slip to your clit, and you rub harsh circles into yourself as Ray continues to fuck into you. Your eyes pinch closed, and suddenly there are tattooed arms around you. A raspy, deep voice in your ear.

“Come on, you can do it. Show how you make yourself come.”

Your eyes snap open and roll back when you feel your release. You cry out and collapse onto the bed after Ray spills into the condom. You get up after catching your breath to use the bathroom. Ray watches as you put your clothes on.

“Going so soon?”

“Yeah, I’m staying with my brother…be sort of weird not to come back tonight.”

“It was great to be able to do this again.”

“Yeah.” You smile and kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for the fun.”

On your uber ride back, it starts to settle into your mind that you just had to fantasize about your friend, Harry Styles, to get off while having sex with someone else. This wasn’t an accidental dream, this was on purpose.

“Shit.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. This camping trip wasn’t going to be easy.

//

Harry: hey! Was wondering if you want to come out and have some ice cream with Andy and I? He got straight A’s! Think it’s worth celebrating.

You: oh wow! Sure, I could definitely meet up for ice cream. Just at the place down town?”

Harry: yup! 6:30PM work?

You: sure! See you soon :)

Harry: :)

“Andy…”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Wh…what’s this?” He shows Andy the text conversation on his phone.

“Oh…I, uh, asked Y/N to get ice cream with us while you were in the shower.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me to ask her?!”

“Does it matter? She said yes.”

“Of course it matters! Ugh, I can’t believe I’m gonna have to change my passcode again.” He reads over the conversation again. “I should ground you or something…no toppings on your ice cream.”

“But-“

“Sorry, thems the rules.” Harry smirks and grabs his keys.

You were waiting patiently outside of the ice cream shop for the two of them. You smile when you see Harry’s car pull up. They both get out and greet you.

“Congratulations, Andy.”

“Thanks!” He gives you a quick hug before going inside. You and Harry follow.

“Hey, uh…” He grabs your wrist. “Not that I’m upset or anything…but he actually stole my phone and texted you.”

“Oh!” You start laughing. “Glad I didn’t say anything naughty then.” You wink and walk up to the ice cream counter. You all get your ice cream and sit at a table across the street in the town common. “No toppings, Andy? I’m surprised you didn’t get a sundae.”

“Dad said I couldn’t.” He huffs, and bites into his mint chip ice cream.

“That’s what you get for stealing my phone, you little bugger.” Harry jostles the hair on Andy’s head, and Andy swats his hand away. “Did you have a nice weekend with your brother?”

You nearly choke on your ice cream. You clear your throat and nod.

“Yeah, um, yeah it was good. He came up with this new sauce for his raviolis, it was delicious.”

“Do anything else? Must be nice to go to a city that has things open past 9PM.” He chuckles.

“Um, yeah, I mean I went out, but nothing too exciting to report back.” You were blushing slightly. “So, Andy, straight A’s, how’d you manage that?”

“Brandon and I call each other to do homework a lot. He’s really smart.”

“So are you, don’t sell yourself short. You’ve worked hard this year.” Harry says.

“Yeah, but Brandon’s, like, really smart.” You furrow your brows a little as your lips curve up. It almost sounded like Andy was swooning. “He’s really excited to come camping with us this weekend. Are you excited too, Y/N?”

“I’m…excited to see how it goes.” You laugh. “Should be interesting to say the least. Instead of you coming to get me I could just meet you at your house so we can leave from there.”

“That would be great. Brandon’s sleeping over the night before so we can just get up and go.”

“You should sleep over too, Y/N.” Andy says.

“Andy.” Harry says to him.

“I’ll need all the sleep I can get before camping, and in order to do that I need my own bed, but thank you very much for the offer.” You smile.

“I could swing by the night before, though, and pack everything up in the car.” Harry says.

“Now there’s an idea.” You say with a grin.

//

“Okay, I’m trusting you both to be good while I’m gone for a bit. I shouldn’t be out too long, but still. Please be good.”

“We’re literally watching a movie then going to sleep, I don’t think we’re going to burn the house down.” Andy says, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, Mr. Styles, go see your girlfriend, we’ll be fine.”

“She’s not my…” He sighs. “I’ll be back soon.”

Harry drives to your apartment, and you buzz him in when he gets there. You had gotten caught up all day doing research, so you were running around in a tank top, shorts, and socks. Your door was open for him. It was the first time he had ever been inside your place.

“Y/N?”

“Coming!” You yell from your bedroom. “I’m so sorry, I’m not quite all there yet.” You say, dragging out your pack. “I can’t seem to get the sleeping bag on here without it unravelling.” You look up at him and pout.

Harry was sweating. Even though he had seen you in just a sports bra and leggings, this was almost more revealing.

“I can, uh, get it to stay on there tighter for you.”

“You’re amazing.” You go back into your room to pull out a couple of more things. “I definitely over packed…it’s going to be too heavy.”

“I kept some room in mine in case this happened, no worries.” He gets the sleeping bag tied on correctly. “There we go.” He stands up and is suddenly only inches away from you.

“Let me give you the tour.” You step back. “It’s a two bedroom, I use the other one as an office. It’s way too much of a mess to show you but, that’s the living room.” You show him. “Got a half bath over there, and full bath down the hall, kitchen…and that’s my bedroom.”

“It’s really nice.” He walks around with his hands behind his back. “You’re really good at decorating. Are you sure you didn’t go to school for interior design?” He raises an eyebrow at you, making you giggle.

“No, but it’s certainly a hobby of mine. It relaxes me to look through magazines and go to stores to get ideas.”

“Your office at work has the perfect balance. Mine must look all over the place.”

“No! I love your office, it’s very inviting.”

“Thanks.” He looks you up and down. “Are these the, uh, pj’s you packed for camping? You may get cold.”

“I’m not an idiot, I packed sweats.”

“Oh…good.”

“What are the sleeping arrangements going to be like?”

“Well, I have two tents. One for the boys, and then I have this larger one I figured we could, um, share…if it’s not too buggy I may sleep outside. Would you feel comfortable being in the same tent?”

“Sure.” You shrug. “I was going to make some tea, would you like some, or do you need to get back to them?”

“They should be fine on their own for a bit longer, a cup of tea sounds great.”

You nod, and his eye grows when he notices a park on the back of one of your shoulders. It looked like a fading bite mark. He glares at you without you seeing. Who the fuck did that to you? He wonders. It should be him leaving marks on you.

“So, when you went to Boston, you really didn’t do much?” He asks as he sits down at your kitchen island.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly going to get into it in front of your son.” You chuckle and turn your electric kettle on. “I went out to an old bar I used to go to when I was living in the area, ran into an old friend.”

“And how was that?”

“Okay.” You shrug, and put two tea bags into a couple of mugs. You pour the water over them and put one in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So…you and this friend…” He just wanted to confirm if his suspicion was true. “Did anything happen?”

“Like what?” Harry rolls his eyes at you. “Oh! Harry…”

“Come on, you can tell me.” He was trying to pal around, he just needed to know the truth.

“He was an ex-boyfriend…and…yada yada yada.” You sip your tea. “I don’t know why I did it…guess I just wanted to feel close to someone, and it was easy with someone familiar.”

“Right, I get that.” It stung to hear. “Paige and I hooked up a few times after we ended it. Sometimes you just wanna be with someone who knows what you like without you having to say it.” He thought he’d sting you a bit too.

“Mhm.” You didn’t want to think about Paige getting to fuck Harry. Perhaps if you had been drunk you would have asked him what he liked.

“Well, I should probably get going. Early day tomorrow and all, thanks for the tea.”

He grabs your pack and you walk him to the door.

“I’ll be at your place for seven. See you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning.”

//

You drive to Harry’s house in the morning, and the kids burst outside with a little too much energy for you so early. Harry says hello to you, and you notice he’s not wearing his glasses, something he rarely did.

“Morning.” He mumbles.

“Morning.” You open the passenger car door and get in. The boys climb in the backseat.

“Alright.” Harry turns to look at them. “I had to listen to you two hyenas all night. I’d like a nice, quiet ride to the trail head, got it?”

“Yes.” They both say at the same time.

You smile at Harry and he winks at you as he pulls out of the driveway. It’s about a forty-five minute long ride to the trail head. Harry parks and gets everything out of the car. The boys walk a few paces ahead of you and Harry like you expected them to.

“So, they kept you up?”

“You have no idea. I must have told them three times to knock it off.” He groans. “Little…twats.” He says under his breath and you can’t help but laugh.

“I heard that!” Andy says without looking.

“Good, you were supposed to!”

“Are you his father or his brother?” You tease.

“He’s just trying to act cool in front of his friend.” Harry nods toward Brandon. “Which I get, but I can’t let him get away with too much.”

“So, how come people tend to do this overnight?”

“Well, it’s about five miles up, and that’ll take the majority of the day. It’s not really safe to hike at night, so we set up camp, have dinner, hang out, and then once the sun goes down we’ll set up a campfire and stuff like that.”

“I’m excited to see the sun rise.”

“Yeah, that’s the best part. I taught Andy about sun salutations so we’ll be doing that too.”

“And you’ll teach me too, right?”

“Of course, you can follow right along.”

You smile at each other and keep walking. You all take your time, enjoying the scenery around you. An hour or so in you all stop to take water and snack breaks. The boys go off to have a wee, and then you keep going.

“So, you said there’s no shower at these bathrooms, right?”

“No, there’s not. But you can use the sink, and they do have men’s and women’s separate restrooms, so you’ll have some privacy.”

“Okay, great. I just didn’t want to feel gross when we go to sleep.” Harry nods at you. “It’s such a beautiful day. I’m really glad I’m here with you.” You clear your throat. “With all of you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

At one point you needed to stop to pee. Harry got the boys to not giggle and tease you, somehow, as you took a few moments to get yourself situated. You were about midway, and Harry knew the part of the trail where you could see out just a little bit. It was nice and flat, and the perfect spot for lunch. They were light lunches, veggies, nuts, and more water. Harry explained it wouldn’t be good to fill up too much because it would make going up a mountain that much more difficult.

“When will you two know what class you’re in next year? Sixth grade, that’s pretty wild.” You say to Brandon and Andy.

“Next year they’re putting us on teams. You either still have two teachers or four.” Andy explains. “We wanna be on the four team.”

“Why’s that?” You ask.

“Because then you’re not stuck in the same two classrooms all day.” Brandon says. “It’ll make the day go by faster.”

“That’s what a kid on the basketball team told us, anyways.” Andy shrugs. “We heard the four team has nicer teachers too.”

“I just hope they don’t put one of us on the four team and the other on the two team, that would be the worst.” Brandon says.

“Is it by last name or anything?” Harry asks.

“We have no idea, when we asked our fifth grade teachers they didn’t really say there was much reason behind who gets what.” Andy says. “I’ll worry about it in August.”

“Yeah, I don’t even want to think about school right now.” Brandon says.

“Y/N, do you still do work over the summer like Dad does?” Andy asks.

“Yes, I’m still technically in school. So I do research like Dad, but mine is so I can become a doctor like him, he just does it to keep his name out there.” She nudges him playfully.

“Oi, my work is more than just for vanity, thank you very much.”

“I don’t know Dad, I think Y/N has a point. I’ve seen you do your research.” Andy grins.

“Oh, this I’d love to hear.”

“Dad watches really sad romance movies, cries, and then pauses the movie to take notes about how he’s feeling.”

“I do that to compare to the books that the films are based off of, and I see how I felt while reading the book versus watching the movie. I also make notes about the cinematography and mise en scene, because music-“

“Mr. Styles, you lost me at the cinnamon tography…” Brandon says and everyone laughs.

After lunch you get going again. You’re amazed that the boys don’t need a lot of breaks and don’t seem tired. They get excited when they see certain critters or flowers. As you get closer to the top, you notice it getting a little steeper. Harry had the biggest pack on, and you were fucking floored that he wasn’t huffing and puffing his way up. He was sweating for sure, but he was in no way struggling. Impressive, to say the least.

“Dad! I recognize this part, we’re almost there!” Andy exclaims.

“Yeah! Shouldn’t be long now!” He calls ahead. “How are your feet doing?” He asks you.

“Not too bad, I’m glad I changed my socks when we took our last break. I’m sure I’ll feel it tomorrow.”

“After we get to the top and everything we’ll make sure to stretch. Your legs will tighten up too much if we don’t.”

“Makes sense. Has Brandon gone hiking with you before?”

“Oh, sure, tons of times. Never overnight, though, so this will be nice for them.”

A few more paces, and a few sharp turns, and you’ve made it to the summit.

“Holy shit.” You say to yourself. Mountains and greenery as far as your eyes could see. No lake this time, but you didn’t care.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Harry says to you.

“It’s…incredible.” You were still in shock.

“Congrats, it’s your first 4,000 footer.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze before getting his pack off. You all get your packs off.

Dozens of pictures are taken. You take some of the boys with Harry, and Andy uses your phone to take one of you and Harry, and he even wants one of just you and him, it was sweet.

“So…where’s the campsite?”

“Oh, just down that way a bit. Figured we could hang out here while we stretch and stuff. Just chill and take it all in before we go to set up the tents.”

You all sit on the ground and stretch your legs. It felt good to just take some time to breathe slowly and let your legs relax. You all walk to where the campsite is and claim your territory.

“So over there are the bathrooms, and then that hut over there actually has a snack bar in it and a few forest rangers.”

“That’s so cool! Do you need help with the tents?”

“Have you ever set one up before?”

“Never.”

“Then you can watch. It’ll be easier if Andy and I just do it.”

You nod and take a step back with Brandon as Andy and Harry work to get the two tents situated. Andy and Brandon get their sleeping bags set up the way they like inside their tent and then they head off towards the bathroom.

“Alright.” You say after tossing some of your things inside yours and Harry’s tent. “I’m gonna go change.”

“Okay, I’m gonna get the firewood together. Gotta get cooking soon.”

“What are we having?”

“Regular hot dogs for the boys, vegan ones for us, that work?”

“You had a cooler in there?”

“And a cast iron pan. Ain’t my first rodeo, darling.” He says cheekily, but you blush anyways from him calling you darling. He had never called you that before.

You grab the things you need for the bathroom, and you’ve never been so thankful to see a clean, working toilet in your life. There were some other people around setting up their own campsites as well, it wasn’t just your group. You use a washcloth to freshen up and then put on some new leggings and a long sleeve shirt. You take your hair out of its hat and put some dry shampoo in before putting it all up in a messy bun. You sigh happily now that you feel a little cleaner.

The boys, and Harry, had changed into some comfier clothes as well. You notice that Harry is wearing his glasses once again. They were all sitting on different blankets around the fire Harry had just gotten started.

“How many would you like?” He asks you as he takes out the different types of hotdogs.

“Two would be great, thank you.” You say, sitting down near Andy.

“I also have some other veggies, I cut up some bell peppers.” Harry takes the baggy out of the cooler. “I figured beans wouldn’t be such a great idea.”

“Dad, can I have two hotdogs?”

“Same here.” Brandon chimes in.

“Of course, boys.”

Harry makes up the vegan hotdogs first, and then makes the boys. They all munch on the veggies and other snacks that Harry packed. He even made sure to bring Oreo’s, Andy’s favorite. Once the sun sets, and everyone bundles up a bit more, Harry breaks out the items to make s’mores.

“Brandon, do you think your dad will coach basketball again in the winter?” Harry asks him.

“Yeah, he said he should have the time. I like him better as a coach than the guy I had a couple of years ago that’s for sure.”

“I like the way your dad coaches, he’s not mean.” Andy says. “I had one guy one year that just yelled and drilled the whole time, it wasn’t any fun.”

“You’re just kids, why would anyone yell at you?” You ask, biting into your own s’more.

“Some of these people are just looking for excuse to be aggressive.” Harry sighs. “This was a much better year all around for everyone I’d say.”

A light hearted ghost story or two is told before the boys both call it a night, their long night before finally catching up with them. Harry makes sure all their trash is thrown away and secure, and he reminds them of the buddy system for if they need to wee in the middle of the night. He also gives them a flashlight so they’ll be able to see everything.

“I think they had the right idea.” You yawn after coming back again from the bathroom. “I’m pooped.”

“Same here. Go get settled, I’m gonna put the fire out.”

You nod and go into the larger tent Harry set up for the two of you. You roll out your sleeping bag, and use one of your spare sweatshirts as a pillow. You get settled in and sigh. It was sort of nice to be unplugged, away from screens and research. Harry eventually crawls in, and gets settled into his own sleeping bag. He sets a dim lantern on his side so he could read a bit.

“What are you reading?”

“The screenplay that was adapted to make The Notebook…” He mumbles.

“You’re working?”

“Sort of…I usually bring books like these camping. They’re easier to read.”

“Should I be offended that you were about ready to read instead of staying up to chat?” You smirk.

Harry’s eyes grow slightly. You wanted to have pillow talk before bed? Is that it?

“Um…well…I just figured you were tired, and I usually read to fall asleep-“

“Harry, relax, I was just teasing. You can read if you want.” You smile at him and turn over, nestling into your sleeping bag. “Night.” You say, looking over your shoulder at him quickly.

“Night.”

Part of you wanted to whine or complain that your makeshift pillow wasn’t comfortable so he’d offer to let you lay on his chest. Maybe he’d caress you and even read to you for a bit. Maybe you would have done that if his son wasn’t in the tent right next to you.

Harry couldn’t concentrate on his book. His eyes kept glancing over to your curled up body. You looked so soft and peaceful, and he just wanted to wrap his arms around you. He wanted to keep you safe and warm all night. And because Harry usually sleeps holding onto a pillow of some kind, he felt a little fucked. He sighs and turns the lantern off. He lays on his back for a while until his eyes eventually flutter closed. You both were exhausted from the hike.

//

You wake up feeling warm and cozy. You weren’t sure why you had woken up. It’s not like the sun was shining yet, the whole point was to get up and watch the sun rise. No, you woke up from feeling small puffs of air by your ear and a strong hold around your stomach. Harry must have rolled over in his sleep and started cuddling with you. You almost wish you were in a shared sleeping bag so you could get even cozier. It would be like one giant sleeping bag burrito. You feel his arm pull you closer into him, and his breathing changes.

You shift and turn on your back so you can look up at him, and he keeps his arm around your waist. You gaze at each other, and he moves his hand up to smooth some hair away from your face before letting it caress your cheek. You both look like you’re about to say something when-

“Dad, come on! The sun’s gonna be up soon!”

Andy startles Harry so badly, it’s like he wakes up all over again, like he didn’t realize what he was doing with you. He nearly jumps away from you and sits up.

“Okay, one second! Go get washed up.” He sighs, and then looks at you. “I-“

“Let’s get to it before they find a way to get in here and drag us out.”

“Yeah.”

Harry unzips the tent and you both use the bathroom before heading out with the boys to the summit again.

“Alright everyone.” Harry says, and he starts doing some simple yoga moves. The boys follow and so do you.

It was amazing to actually do sun salutations as the sun came up. After sitting and looking out a while longer you all head back to the campsite breakfast. You drink water instead of coffee in fear of really needing to use the bathroom later. You each have a granola bar, and then start to clean up the tents. You get changed in your attire for the day, as done everyone else, and you all start working your way down the mountain.

“What did you think of the sunrise, boys?” You ask.

“It was so cool! I can’t wait to show my parents the pictures I took.” Brandon says.

“Must be nice to have a phone that actually takes decent pictures.”

“I took plenty of pictures on mine, Andy.” Harry says. “You got two more years, I think you can wait.” He chuckles as Andy looks back to give him a pouty face.

“How’d you sleep, Y/N?” Brandon asks.

“Oh! Um…” You and Harry look at each other briefly and then blush. “Pretty good, slept the whole night through, I think. How about you two.”

“My mom gave me some melatonin, so I slept good.” Brandon shrugs.

“And I’m used to camping, so I was fine.” Andy says.

“Good, that’s really good.” You say and clear your throat.

You both knew you’d have to have a conversation about the way you woke up, but now obviously wasn’t going to be the time. Finally, after hours, you make it all the way back to the trailhead, and get everything into Harry’s car. It was an incredible couple of days, but you couldn’t wait to get home to take a proper shower. Hell, you may even take a bath just to relax your sore muscles. Harry drops Brandon off, and Andy helps him with his things. They hug goodbye; it’s awfully sweet.

“Dad, can I shower first? I feel gross…”

“Sure, just don’t take too long.”

“Okay! Thanks again for coming Y/N.”

“Thank you again for inviting me.” You smile as you all get out of Harry’s car. He waits for Andy to go inside before speaking up.

“I’m sorry about this morning, I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable…when I sleep I usually have a pillow or something and-“

“I wasn’t uncomfortable.” You say as you grab your things out of his trunk and put them into your own. “In fact, I can’t remember the last time I felt so comfortable.” You look at him and close your trunk.

“Oh.” His eyebrows raise and his cheeks grow slightly red. “Um.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I have him for the rest of this week until I send him off with Paige for July, so I wanna spend as much time with him as I can, but-“

“Call me when you’re free. I don’t mind waiting.”

Harry was chilled to his bones from your words. He watched you get into your car and drive off before going into his house. You said what you said because you had a feeling Harry had been waiting for you to get your act together a bit. You’ve known him for almost a year, and he’s been a great friend, but there’s something that’s been brewing between the two of you. Probably since the day you met.

//

“Is that everything?” Paige chuckles as Andy brings another bag into her house.

“I wanted to make sure I had options.” He grunts as he gets inside.

“He’s just like you, I swear.” She shakes her head at Harry.

“As if we needed more proof that he’s mine.”

“So…I heard the camping trip went well, what’s next for you and Y/N?”

“Not sure, I’m gonna give her a ring the second I’m on the road.”

“Did anything happen between you two in that tent?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“No.” He mumbles and kicks some dirt at his feet. “Not much I could do with two eleven-year-olds right next door.”

“Harry.” She laughs.

“We woke up…very close together, that was about it. Bottom line is we need to talk, and now I’ll have the time to do so.”

“You know you’re going to need to fill Andy in on everything when you have your chats on the phone.”

“Please, it’ll be the first thing he asks me instead of how are you…”

“Okay, that’s everything.” Andy says. “Love you.” He hugs Harry and Harry sighs as he wraps his arms around him.

“Love you too, call if you need anything, and be good, promise?”

“Promise.”

Harry waves as he gets into his car, and he calls you right away just like he said he would. The phone goes straight to voicemail, which makes him feel like he got kicked in the gut, especially because it rang twice first. Suddenly, a couple of texts come up on his screen.

You: hey!

You: sorry, I’m at the library getting some work done. I’ll call you later

Harry sighs, but he completely understands. Not too long ago it was him using every free moment he had to get his doctoral research done. He had his own work he should be doing, so he goes home and gets settled up in his office.

He was getting some incredible work done on his latest manuscript, the journal that publishes his works will definitely be pleased. He blinks and sees it’s already 8PM, and you never called, or texted. He hoped you were alright. He stands up and stretches, and decides to grab a quick shower. The house was quiet without Andy, and he didn’t like it. He flops down onto the couch in just a pair of boxers and turns the TV on. A ring on the doorbell startles him, and he gets up right away. He peers through the window to see you, holding a box of pizza and a bottle of wine. He cracks the door open so you could only see his face.

“Hey! Sorry for just dropping by. I got really busy earlier, and I thought this would be better than calling. Hungry?” You smile brightly at him.

“Yeah, that sounds great. I was actually feeling pretty-“

“Um, Har…”

He had opened the door more just out of instinct, revealing his mostly naked body.

“Shit, let me, uh, come in, I’ll go throw something on.” You giggle as he basically scurries to his bedroom to change. He comes back out in a t-shirt and joggers. “Thanks for bringing all this.”

“I planned to come by earlier, I know you dropped Andy off today…how are you doing?”

“I’m okay…work distracted me, but it’s hitting me now. It’s really quiet without him already…I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” You pop the box of pizza open. “Wanna get this bottle open?”

“Yeah.”

He grabs his wine opener, two glasses, and two plates. He gets the bottle open while you set the pizza out. He pours you both a glass and you sit down at the table.

“So, you got a lot done today?” He asks you.

“You have no idea! I was on fire.” Harry laughs at that.

He listens to you talk about what you got done. He couldn’t help but watch every movement your lips made, and how your eyes got brighter and brighter at how excited you were.

“Sorry, I’m going on and on about my thing, what did you get done today?” You say, sipping your wine.

“Worked on my manuscript for the journal.” He shrugs. “Nothing special.”

“Oh, don’t say that, you do incredible work. I love reading your articles. I actually think I used to read your work when I was still in grad school.” You start blushing. “It’s sort of cool knowing the person you’ve been able to learn so much from.”

“Just sort of cool, huh?” He scoffs playfully and you nudge him. “Wanna move outside, I put up a screen around the perimeter for bugs, or are you still hungry?”

“No, I’ve had plenty, but I’ll be bringing this bottle with us.” You grab the wine and you both head outside. “When did you even have time to do this?”

“Andy helped me. It wasn’t too difficult.”

You imagine Harry doing handy work, and it makes every part of your body flutter.

“I wish I had outdoor space like this, it’s my one complaint of my apartment, no balcony or anything.”

“Yeah, we didn’t like it much either, we didn’t stay there long.”

“We?”

“It’s where Paige and I lived when we first came here. I got my master’s from the university first, then my doctorate. Her grandparents lived in that big house, so they helped babysit Andy a lot.”

“Oh.” You didn’t have any problems with Paige, but she didn’t love being reminded that they were once together and in love.

“Were you sore after the hike or anything?” Quick to change the subject, maybe he felt the same way.

“Um, only for a day or so. I didn’t stretch as much as I should have when I got home. Thought the bath I took would have been good enough.”

“Would you ever do it again?”

“I would! I had more fun than I thought…but I’ll only go to the mountains that have working bathrooms.”

“Deal.” He smiles and takes a sip of his wine. “Maybe we could do something like that later this month.”

“With or without Andy?” You raise a playful eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind an adults only trip.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He finishes off his glass and pours another. “Refill?”

“Please.” You hold your glass out for him and he pours some more. You take a sip and lick your lips. “And why exactly would you like it to be adults only?”

“Perhaps…I wouldn’t have minded not being interrupted that morning.”

“Andy really startled you, huh?”

“I almost forgot he was there…” He plucks at his bottom lip. “It was…an interesting how we woke up.”

“Very interesting.” You sip your drink. “I was sort of…hoping you were going to cuddle me or something.”

“You were?!” His eyes widen.

“Yeah, it was sort of cold, even in sweats and a sleeping bag. I felt so cozy when I woke up.”

“You didn’t even flinch when you looked up at me…”

“Why would I have?”

“I don’t know…sort of weird to wake up in a friend’s arms, isn’t it?”

“Not so weird when that friend is you.” You look at him. “You back peddled when you tried to explain why. It’s okay if you wanted to hold onto me.”

“I literally sleep with a body pillow, you can check my room.” He defends. “I’ve always been like that.” He mumbles.

“So it wasn’t about me?”

“No…I…I wanted to cuddle you.” He wanted to do more, but again…his son was there.

“Well…I’m glad you did. It’s nice being the little spoon once in a while, and your cologne always smells so good, no complaints here.”

“You…you like my cologne?”

“Love it, actually.” You finish off your glass and you grab the bottle to pour just a little more in. “It’s nice when the person you have to see every day at work smells good.”

“Let’s see….” He holds his hand up to count on his fingers. “You like my work, you’re happy I cuddled you, and you enjoy my cologne.” He looks at you. “What should I be thinking of all this?”

“I…” You swirl your drink around. “Do you remember when I had that really awkward dream about you a while back?”

“Yes.”

“That was a complete accident, a freaky thing that happened that I didn’t want to have happen.”

“Is this one of those compliment sandwiches?”

“No, I’m…please…” You look at him. “The last time I went to Boston, as you know, I hooked up with someone.”

“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes.

“But…I was having trouble getting there…and…well…” You look away from him. “You popped in and I was happy about it. I…thought of you…and…”

“And were you able to get there, Y/N?”

“Yes.” You say just above a whisper. “I wanted it to be you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date colleagues?”

“I don’t, but…” You look at him again. “I think I like you too much to care about that anymore.”

“God, I…” He gets up and kneels in front of you, taking one of your hands. “I like you so much, you have no idea.”

“Well, I have a small idea…woke up with you pressed against me.” You smirk.

“No way you felt anything between two sleeping bags and all the layers of clothes.”

“Little bit.”

“Christ.” He groans.

“Again, not complaining, it’s flattering, actually.”

“So when you let that guy leave that mark on the back of your shoulder, were you hoping it was me who did that too?” He stands up now.

“You saw that?” You gasp as you look up at him.

“I did…when you were running around your place getting everything together.” He pulls you to stand up, and he tucks some of your hair behind your ear. “You were wearing a pretty flimsy tank top.”

“I don’t exactly get dolled up when I’m home all day working.”

“I guess we have that in common.” He pushes his glasses to the top of his head, and cups your jaw with one hand, and hooks his other arm around your waist to pull you closer.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

Your eyes flutter closed as he leans in, and you tug at his shirt as his lips meet yours. It’s soft at first, he’s just getting a feel for you, and then it turns needy. His hand slides to the back of your head, tugging softly at your hair to crane your head up more. You gasp at this, and he takes the openness as an invitation to nip at your bottom lip. You moan softly, and your tongue peeks out to meet his. They mold together like they were supposed to all along. Suddenly, he takes a step back.

“Wh…what’s wrong?” You wipe the small trail of spit from your mouth that he left behind.

“Nothing, I just…I told myself I wouldn’t do this while we were drinking. There have been a lot of times I’ve wanted to kiss you, but I haven’t because we were drunk or something.”

“I’m not drunk, are you?”

“I’m a little tipsy, yeah.”

“I, okay, yeah, so am I.” You chuckle

“So, I think we should stop for now. I wanna do this right. I wanna take you on a proper date.”

“I’d like that.” You smile, and then chew on your bottom lip. “It’s the right thing to do anyways, we shouldn’t jump into this too quickly. I have some different trips planned this summer, and I’m going to be busy working on things, getting my classes together…not exactly a whirlwind summer romance we’re looking at.”

“I have a conference in New York later this summer, so I’ll be busy as well getting my lecture ready.”

“Wait…I have a conference to go to in New York later this month too!”

“Really? Is it the CMT?”

“Yeah! I went last summer too and had such a good time. I had no idea you were giving a lecture, the itinerary doesn’t come out until next week.”

“I’m presenting some research about my wellness course…I’ve been collecting some data over the last three years I’ve been teaching it.”

“Ah, so you’re not going to be discussing the complexities of Pride and Prejudice?” You smirk at him.

“Nope, saving that for a rainy day.” He smirks back.

“Wow, well…that’s sort of exciting…we’ll be going to the same place for a few days.”

“We could, um, drive together if you wanted.”

“I was just going to take the bus…”

“I get free parking at the hotel since I’m part of the conference.”

“It’s a four hour drive…that’s a long time for you to be stuck with me.”

“Was stuck with you overnight not too long ago, and I didn’t mind it one bit.” He puts his hand on your shoulders. “Are you staying at the hotel where the conference will be?”

“Yes.”

“Great.” He smiles. “It’s, um, it’s a date then.”

“Yeah.” You smile at him. “Although…might be nice to go out before then…make sure we still like each other, and all that.” You joke.

“Yeah, I could easily not be into you in just a couple of weeks.” He jokes back and you can’t help but laugh.

“Let’s go inside, I need some water before I go home.”

“Good idea.”

He leads you in, and after a two glasses of water, and giving you a mock-sobriety test, he lets go. Well, not before giving you another steamy kiss by your car after you promised to text him when you got home. It was just as needy as the first kiss. He didn’t press his body up against yours, but from the way he was sucking on your bottom lip, you could tell he wanted you desperately. But like the responsible adults you were, you ended it there, and called it a night. A very good night.

[fluffytriceratops]

Another little life update for those of you who are curious or want to know;

Work has been very busy as of late, and unfortunately it’s only going to get worse. Like I mentioned before, I came down a month early to help the camp set up and to help out in anyway that I can. Which means, the summer technically has just started and I still have a little over two months to go.

We’ve already had a couple groups/camps come down here during June, so I was in the kitchen for them. But I wasn’t doing my normal work, I was mainly doing dishes because the main dish employees hadn’t come down yet. And let me tell you, it sucks fucking ass doing dishes. There are so many of them, and my back is absolutely killing me at the end of the day. And I know it’s only going to get worse. We weren’t even very busy then, we’re still expecting 100-200 people and I don’t know how I’m going to handle it lol.

Hopefully I won’t need to fill in for dishes.

One of my boss’ was being a bit of a prick a while ago. So that was something, I guess. He was being really ignorant and cheap and made me feel like I was beneath him. On top of that, they were burning plastic/recycling which is really toxic. And it wasn’t like they were far away while doing it, they’re in the camp burning all this plastic and it STINKS. All these fumes are being blown up towards all the trailers/motor homes. Which is where I stay, so that’s great. (Note my sarcasm)

And on top of that we’re in the spider capital, and I don’t recall if I’ve even mentioned it before but I have a horrible case of arachnophobia. A lot of people think I’m silly for it, and don’t treat it as serious as it is. But I have and I will burst into tears if I have to deal with them. I ended up having an anxiety/panic attack (I’m not really sure which one it was, honestly I’ve been so emotional and stressed little things keep causing me to break down) and my sister had to just stand there and hold me till I calmed down. I’m very glad that it didn’t happen in public, because that would be humiliating. Honestly, I’ve cried so many times already, I even cried last night. And I know I’ll cry even more throughout my time here.

I’m not saying this for attention. I’m saying this because it helps me cope. I get to rant and vent to anyone who’s willing to listen and it feels good to get it off my chest. It’s therapeutic in a way, I guess lmao. And because I can’t afford therapy, art, writing, venting, and obsessing over OCs and fictional characters will have to do.

I hate not being able to come on here and see all my mutuals/friends posts. I hate that I’m so busy, I don’t get to post as often as I want to. For the longest of time, I felt like I had no motivation to do most things. And then I got on tumblr, and decided to start posting my work on this platform and met amazing people through it. It gave me motivation to do the things that I love. I felt happy being apart of a community so welcoming and loving. Then this job just ruined the whole thing. I know for a fact that next year I will not be coming here early. I can’t do this again. It’s too much, money be damned. I’ll probably come to work here again, at least for one more year. But I still don’t know yet. We’ll see how this year goes. So far, it sucks ass. X’D

I’d like to open up drawing (possibly writing) commissions after summer. Maybe in the fall/winter? Depending on how I’m feeling and what’s going on in my life. I might need a bit of a break before diving into things again. But I don’t know if anyone would be interested in that? I’d love to be able to work doing what I love and I think commissions would help greatly with that. It could help me get started, anyway. Whether that be art, writing, or both. I’ll probably make another post about it with more info later on, but for now I’m just going to drop this here and see what happens haha. If you’d be interested in getting a commission from me at some point, please let me know! The more people who want them, the more I’m willing to do it lol. I’m also thinking of creating a few OC art adopts, so if that’s something that interests you too, feel free to let me know! Either by reblog/commet/message, anything works. ^-^

Thank you to those who read this. I know it’s a little long, boring, and all over the place. But it means a lot to me to know that you took the time out of your day to do so. I hope you have an outstanding day/night. You deserve it.

I love you all so so much. I’m sending all the virtual hugs to you!

Take care of yourselves! :3

— LF / Fluffy / Fluffie <3

PS. Love and laughter always.

PPS. If you know where the quotes from, I love you more.

[hufflautia]

The Boyfriend

Dedicated to the anon who came up w this idea and to @eatacrackerandstop <3. There's a small Shadow and Bone reference; if you find it, you get a high five✨

Summary: Slytherin and Hufflepuff meet their daughter’s boyfriend for the first time, and Slytherin has a few concerns.

~

Hufflepuff closes the door behind her daughter, who stepped out to privately wish her boyfriend goodbye on the front stoop, and turns to Slytherin.

“He seems like a sweet kid,” she smiles. Slytherin follows her into the kitchen with a disgruntled expression. He leans against the countertop as she begins washing the dishes.

“What’s taking her so long,” he eyes the door. “It only takes a couple of seconds to say goodbye to someone.”

“They spent the entire night with us. They probably just want a little alone time,” Hufflepuff replies. She glances at him when he sighs and crosses his arms. “Do I sense a little disdain for our daughter’s boyfriend?”

Slytherin scowls.

“I don’t like him,” he states plainly. “He gives me...bad boy vibes.” His scowl deepens when she laughs incredulously.

“Bad boy vibes?”

“Yes,” he says indignantly. “Bad boy vibes! Did you see his smirk when she laughed at his joke?"

"You smirk a lot,” she points out, to which he grudgingly admits. “Besides, is it bad that he can make her laugh?"

"'Course not," he huffs. "But did you see how he put his arms around her?”

"I'm pretty sure that's called a hug, honey."

Slytherin steps between her and the sink. She shoots him a look as water drips on the floor.

“Please get out of my way, Slytherin. You’re acting like a child.”

He takes her hands into his own, not caring that they’re wet. “Honey, you’re not listening to me.”

“I am! I just don’t agree with you.” She continues before Slytherin can object. “You’re worrying over nothing. Our daughter is old enough to make her own decisions on who she hangs out with and what she does with her time."

“She’s only in her seventh year—”

“Slytherin," she says sternly. “Our baby is grown now, believe it or not. I trust her judgment. You should too.”

His brows furrow, and he doesn’t respond right away.

"It's not that I don't trust her," he finally says. "I just don't want her to get hurt."

Hufflepuff softens in this rare moment of vulnerability—his grumpiness and frustration often mask his fears.

"We can't control what happens," she says gently. "We can't control who does what or who hurts who. But what we can control is what we do and how we act." Slytherin remains silent as he considers her words. "I think the best thing we can do is support our daughter. And if things don't end well in their relationship, she will know who to come to: the people who have always been there for her."

Her words sink in, and Slytherin nods.

"You're right."

"'Course I'm right."

He smiles somberly. "I’ve only ever wanted to protect her."

"You will," she assures, pulling him into an embrace. "But you will do so at a healthy and reasonable distance. No threatening the boy."

Slytherin snorts and says, "I'm not that type of dad." He rests his chin on top of her head. "But if he breaks her heart, I keep no promises."

"Good," she murmurs into his shirt. “I'll be right behind you.”

Their moment of peace is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. They see their daughter, Giselle, standing by the doorway with a flushed grin.

"Hey kiddo," Slytherin smiles.

She makes a face. “I'm 18, Dad. I'm not a kid anymore."

"Alright." Hufflepuff notices a familiar gleam in his eye and tries not to smile as he continues. "Do you prefer muffin? Sweet pea? Or perhaps cupcake—"

Giselle covers her ears. "Dad!" she groans. "Eat a cracker and stop."

He holds his hands up in defeat as he chuckles. "Okay, okay."

"So," Hufflepuff says once things settle down. "What did Dorian think? Did he like us? What about the food? Was my cooking okay?" A look of horror washes over her face. "Oh shoot, should we have given him some leftovers to take back to his family? He probably didn't get too far, I'll go get the food from the fridge and—"

"Honey," Slytherin laughs, resting his hand on the small of her back before she can scurry off in search of tin foil and plastic containers. "It's fine."

"Yeah," Giselle assures. "The food was great, and he loved meeting you guys."

"And we loved meeting him,” Hufflepuff says warmly. “Tell Dorian he's welcome to come back at any time."

"Okay," she grins. "Can we start our movie night now?"

Slytherin nods. "I believe it's Mom's turn to choose the movie."

"I know exactly what we should watch tonight," Hufflepuff beams. They pile onto the couch, and when she puts the disc into the DVD player, everyone but Hufflepuff's face falls when they see the title.

"Aw, not this movie," Giselle complains. "We watched the trailer last week, and you said it yourself that it looked like trash."

"Wha—I didn't say trash!"

"I think you did," Slytherin interjects. He stifles a laugh when she shoots him a look.

Hufflepuff purses her lips. "Ravenclaw and I watched it at the movie theaters a few days ago, and it was a cinematic masterpiece!"

He arches an eyebrow. "So you're gonna watch it again?"

"Yes! Because it’s that good. And I want you guys to watch it with me. The movie has adventure and plot twists and romance—I mean, what hurts more than a broken heart?"

"A severed head," Giselle replies, to which Slytherin snorts a laugh.

Hufflepuff scoffs and shakes her head, but a smile tugs at her lips. “You’ll see what I’m talking about after we watch it, but I need to use the bathroom first. I’ll bring back some popcorn.”

“Can you also get some Sprite?” Giselle calls after her.

“Okay.” Hufflepuff lingers by the doorway. “Do you want anything, sweetie pie?” she says to Slytherin.

“No thanks, snuggle bunny.” He snickers when Giselle visibly cringes. He and Hufflepuff liked to call each other outrageously sweet pet names in front of their daughter for the sole purpose of grossing her out.

“Yes,” Giselle says in a deadpan voice. “This is the exact spot I want to be in right now.”

Hufflepuff laughs and winks at Slytherin before leaving. He watches her walk away before whispering to Giselle, “How likely is it that she’ll accidentally trap herself in the bathroom and we get to pick another movie?”

“Extremely likely,” she replies. “If we put a rubber item underneath the door to act as a door stopper, she won’t be able to open it from the inside…” Slytherin is looking at her weirdly, and she swallows her words. “...I mean, I don’t know.”

Slytherin smiles but doesn’t say anything. Giselle may have inherited her mother’s looks, but she has her father’s mischief.

While they wait for Hufflepuff, Slytherin speaks. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Sure,” she says cautiously.

“Do you love him?”

Her eyebrows rise—she didn’t expect this question. She takes a moment to think.

"Not yet.”

He nods. "But you're happy?"

"I am," she smiles.

His eyes crinkle. If she was happy…well, that was good enough for him.

“I’m glad, kiddo.”

This time, Giselle doesn’t roll her eyes at the term of endearment. Instead, she takes his hand and squeezes it three times. Slytherin, who taught her the gesture, squeezes her hand four times in response.

“Who’s ready to start the movie?” Hufflepuff walks in with popcorn and sprite, unaware of the father-daughter moment she just missed.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Slytherin sighs, scooting over to make space for her. She plops down beside him and settles the bowl between them.

“Oh,” she perks up. “Before I forget. Accio tissue boxes!”

Slytherin looks bewildered as tissue boxes come flying their way. “Do we really need tissues?”

“Absolutely,” she scatters the boxes over their laps. Slytherin raises an eyebrow and glances over at Giselle, who also looks perplexed.

“My teen angst bullshit is about to have a body count,” she whispers as the movie begins playing.

A/N: This fic is somewhat connected to Different Love Languages, another one of my fics. Is the slytherpuff couple in that fic the same couple in this one? That's up to you, dear reader😌

I lowkey hate the title, but I couldn't come up w a better one. Also, this fic was longer than I planned. I originally decided to write something like this:

“Why don’t you like him?”

“Because I used to be a bad boy, which is exactly why I don’t trust him.”

Basic dialogue, plain and simple. But the darling anon who told me their idea deserves a full-length story <3

Let me know what you thought of this one-shot. Feedback makes me happy <3 If you prefer to stay anonymous, the anon option for asks is available! Be safe and well, everyone.

Tag lists are open✨ Let me know via ask/messages/comments if you want to be added or removed.

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[artzychic27]

The Artist Family? (new movie)

A month has passed since Marc and Nathaniel met and fell in love at age fourteen, now they’re dating

To celebrate their one month anniversary, they decide to visit one of the most romantic spots ever- The burned-down forest they met in- Only to run into some trouble

The mobs from their previous homes have still been looking for them since the incidents and were finally able to track them down

The couple manage to escape the angry mob with the help of Marc’s spiders and a friendly severed hand who cause a distraction

So they can get away quicker, That drives them in an old hearse he found in a graveyard

Marc: Mi querido, why must hoards of angry villagers follow us everywhere?

Nathaniel: *Kissing Marc’s hand* Meyn ziskeyt, I swear to you, we will find someplace so dark, so sinister, so dastardly that no one in their right mind would be caught dead in!

*They arrive in Paris*

Nathaniel: Huh. I see it’s changed over the last few centuries. And I’m noticing a lack of guillotines.

As they lament about how they can’t keep running for the rest of their lives, That, who was recklessly driving, runs over something in the middle of the road, right near an old funeral home shrouded by fog and cut off from the rest of the city

Marc/Nathaniel: *Excitedly* We hit something!

They rush to see who or what they’ve hit, and see that the figure is a blonde, pale young man who seems to have most of his organs missing

They realize that the person they ran over is Félix Culpa, a young man who died centuries ago, but was never given a funeral because the mortician prepping him got the plague. He regains consciousness and goes to attack the two, but Nathaniel just hands him their bags

Nathaniel: Thanks, man. Hey, you mind showing us around the place?

And that’s how Félix became their butler

When they arrive at the old funeral home, they’re given a very warm welcome.

Spirit of the House: GET OUT!

Marc: ... It’s hideous.

Nathaniel: It’s horrible...

Marc/Nathaniel: It’s home.

Weeks goes by, and more people begin to occupy the home, making amazing first impressions

Marinette and Alix actually snuck in and have been living in the walls for a short period of time until Félix found them

Marc found Rose resting in one of the open graves in the backyard

And Juleka Samara-crawled out of the swamp with her hair covering her face

The six of them share their backgrounds, sympathize with each other about how they were run out of their homes, and make the decision to change their last names to Artist

Now they’re sixteen while Alix is still fifteen

Meanwhile, down in Paris, Gabriel Agreste is taking the fashion world by storm, and his clothing (All basic and dull) is a big hit in Paris (For reasons no one understands but they won’t say anything for fear of not fitting in)

His son, Adrien Agreste goes for a bike ride through the woods with his two friends, Nino and Alya, where they come across the gate that separates outsiders from the Artists’ home

They’re immediately scared away when Marinette opens the creaking gate that sounds like the end of the world when opened

Also, Alix’s sinister sixteen is coming up in a few weeks, and part of the celebration is a swordfight, which she is nowhere near ready for

Nathaniel: Alix, you need to practice. It’s the day your family and friends judge you and pass judgement on your worth as a human being!... It reminds me of Hanukkah.

During one dinner, Marinette asks a question that shocks everyone

Marinette: Do you guys think things beyond the gate have changed?

Juleka: ... What?

Marinette: It’s been years, surely things must be different now. Earlier today, I swore I heard people.

Marc: Outside is forbidden.

Marinette: But-

Marc: Forbidden!

Back in the city, Gabriel is anticipating the arrival of tourists to buy his new line of clothing which he calls, Conformist

While filming a commercial, a red balloon floats astray and makes its way towards the Artists’ home, which Marinette finds as she’s “helping” Alix prepare for the Swordfight

Alix: Why are you helping me?

Marinette: Because. You are like my sister... And... I... Love... You...

Alix: ... You seem trustworthy.

Big mistake

Marinette: *Walks inside with the balloon* Good news, Alix is gone.

Marc: *Holding a sword to Nathaniel’s neck* Mari, go dig up Alix.

Marinette: You and Nathaniel are once again weakening this generation.

Nathaniel: *Points to balloon* Mari, where did you get that?

Marinette: I’m not sure.

Marc: Strange. There’s usually a murderous clown attached to the other end of these.

Juleka: *Gasp!* And what is this?! *Plucks a piece of pink confetti off of Marinette’s shoulder*

Nathaniel: Smells like cotton candy. *Off their confused looks* I was young and stupid, alright?

The Artists go outside where they find rainbow confetti raining down, and the fog that covers their home is lifting up, revealing to them the town

Much to Marc’s protests, Nathaniel suggests they go see the place for themselves

Marinette: This day is becoming most miraculously disruptive.

While filming another commercial, the Artist Family’s house is in the camera’s shot, and Gabriel passes out the second he sees it

*Somewhere else* Nino: ... I feel an overwhelming sense of... Joy.

The Artists arrive in their hearse, and immediately capture the attention of the other Parisians. They’re given strange looks wherever they go, and sometimes people run away screaming

No one has run them out with pitchforks yet. Yay!

Alix: Guys! *Pulls a tire off of a police car* They’re just giving these away!

Juleka: Alix, mind your manners, people might want tires, too.

After getting coffee grounds, the Artists come across Adrien, Alya, Nino, Chloé, and Lila in the park, prancing around in pink and blue outfits and singing about being conformists

Rose: Wow... That is absolutely horrible!

Marinette: ... *Dumps coffee grounds* I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. However, that blonde boy... Intrigues me

And it seems the feeling is mutual when Adrien steals glances at the gothic girl with braids

Rose: ... Yeah, I’m done with this song. *She hikes up the hem of her robe, releasing hundreds of bats that scare off the crowd* Done and done!

Done with these people, Marc wants to leave, Nathaniel insists that things have changed, but his boyfriend is still reluctant... Cue Gabriel

He insists on hiring interior decorators to fix up the Artists home (So tourists aren’t scared off) Marc, with some urging from Nathaniel allows him to do so.

Marinette: That man seems deranged. His face reminds me of a death mask.

*Somewhere else* Nino: In the future... I will have a new friend. Blue hair. Braids.

Back at the Artists Home, Nathaniel, Juleka, and Rose help Alix prepare for her Swordfight

Rose: Of all the Sinister Sixteens I’ve seen, Nathaniel’s was the stuff of legends.

Juleka: So no pressure!

Gabriel, Adrien, the design crew, and the news crew arrive, ready to remove the gloom and macabre form the Artists’ home

Félix: *Answers the door* Youuuuuu raaaaaanng?

Adrien: *Calling Alya and Nino* Hey, so I’m going into the creepy mansion. If I don’t come back, I’m dead... I love you too, Nino... Yes, Alya, I know he’s your boyfriend.

Much to his relief, Adrien is left outside and goes around back to explore

Gabriel: I do hope this isn’t a bad time.

Nathaniel: The worst!... Do come in.

Gabriel spends most of the time making light criticisms and jabs at the decor, the Artists themselves, their clothes, and Marc’s spiders (Which he considers the greatest insult)

Meanwhile in the backyard, Adrien is nearly killed by a crossbow. To his horror and awe, he finds the shooter: Marinette in all of her dark glory

Immediately, he develops a small crush on her. She’s not like the other girls at school who constantly cling to and flirt with him because of his father’s wealth

He tries his hand at impressing her by shooting an arrow, but accidentally shoots Rose, which actually does impress Marinette

Adrien: So, why haven’t I seen you and your siblings at school?

Marinette: We’re coven-schooled. But, blondie, do tell... *Leans in close so she can hear Adrien’s rapid heartbeat* Can anyone attend your school?

Gabriel and his crew leave, having made no renovations to the Artists’ home. And when Nathaniel explains that family and friends will be coming over for Alix’s Sinister Sixteen, that just motivates the designer even more

Down in Gabriel’s secret lair, he spies on the Parisians through a social media app where he fills the comments section with rumors about the Artists, saying they’re anarchists and breed spiders... Okay, so they’re not all rumors

*The Next Day* Nathaniel: Monochrome, I know the man is an eccentric, but- *Marinette appears behind him* Aah!

Marc: Mari, you know Nathaniel scares easily. Practice your lurking on someone else. *Marinette appears behind him* Better. Now what’s on your mind?

Marinette explains that she wants to atener school, much to Marc’s horror and Nathaniel’s excitement. She needs to torment more kids her own age.

Marc doesn’t want her to go, worried she might fall under the influence of the... Conformists, but Nathaniel somehow convinced him

Marinette walking into school: Ah, so these are the gates of hell.

Adrien, while being crowded by girls he doesn’t even like (Especially Lila and Chloé) becomes awestruck when he sees Marinette walking in. She looks like a beautiful demon queen

Lila and Chloé see this and try to intimidate her, but this is what Marinette says,

Marinette: Listen you future plastic surgery disasters, I’m not locked in here with either of you. You and your outdated, distasteful “outfits” are locked in here with me. And don’t you forget it.

Alya just might dump Nino so she can ask this girl out. Polyamory works too. / Adrien: Back of the line.

Mendelive’s biology class: They’re dissecting frogs.

Adrien: Aw, I feel bad for doing this.

Marinette: Relax. Rose showed me how to do this hundreds of times. *Cue Frankenstein equipment* FLIP THE SWITCH! *Adrien flips the switch and electrocutes all of the frogs* LIVE! LIVE MY CREATURE!

The frogs come to life and attack Lila and Chloé. Karma at its finest. Alya and Nino are impressed by her more than ever

Alya: It is an honor and a privilege to watch you work, spooky girl.

Back at the Artists’ Home, it’s game night! They’re playing the game of Death, but Marc isn’t focused. It’s late and he’s wondering where Marinette is

Finally, she arrives, but much to Marc’s horror, she has a Ladybug hair clip! He’s in so much shock that his face flushes red and a bat has to drink his blood

Marc: What. Is. That?

Marinette: Adrien calls it a “Pop of color” says it brings out my... Smile.

Marc: You don’t have a smile.

In order to see what’s going on with his sister/friend, Marc suggests they do ‘Tea & Seance’ like old times... Only she bails to hang out with Adrien, and they give each other makeovers as acts of rebellion

Meanwhile, Alix is upset because she still can’t get the hang of sword fighting and Nathaniel has been working so hard to help her

Marinette returns from her hangout with Adrien, almost making Marc faint when she shows up wearing pink and her hair in pigtails.

Marc: Okay, this is where I sever the line! You are not going back to that school!

Marinette: *Gives him the evil eye before leaving* You can’t tell me what to do.

Juleka: Dear Hades, that is some evil eye.

Horrified by Adrien’s new gothic look and attitude, Gabriel spreads more rumors about the Artists

Frustrated by the lack of support from her family/friends, Marinette runs away and goes to stay with Adrien

Alix: I always knew it would end up like this. Just didn’t know when.

Marinette: Farewell, Alix! I will never forget you, but I’ll try.

The next morning, Marinette, Alya, and Nino are helping Adrien look for his phone, which Gabriel his hidden punishment for his new look

While looking, they stumble across Gabriel’s lair and discover he’s been spying on everyone in Paris. Gabriel discovers them snooping and locks them in Adrien’s room while he goes to greet the tourists... And some unexpected guests

Nathalie: *Dials Gabriel* Gabriel, it’s an emergency. They’re here! The Artist Family!

The Artists more... Eccentric family members (Gina Dupain, Uncle Wang, Master Fu, Luka, Fei, Jagged, Penny, and the art teacher for example) have arrived to attend Alix’s sinister sixteen.

Things are going well so far. Juleka reunites with Luka, Fei battles Gina to the death, but Marinette still hasn’t arrived, so they do the sword fight without her... Which Alix fails.

As Nathaniel consoles her, a cannonball shoots through the wall. Gabriel somehow got a catapult for the mob to use

Marc: It’s Gabriel. He’s turned the town into a mob.

Juleka: I oddly admire his determination.

While the mob fires more cannonballs and destroy the house, Alix tosses her sword and grabs her explosives, successfully protecting her family... Until a cannonball blocks their only exit and she runs out of ammo

Just as the ceiling begins to fall and it seems like the end, Marinette, Adrien, Alya, and Nino come in just in time and save them all thanks to the possessed tree

She and Marc reconcile

Marc: I’m so glad you came back.

Marinette: Of course. There was no way you all could survive without me. You’re like weak kittens.

The Parisians begin having regrets about attacking the Artists (Mainly cuz they almost killed a bunch of kids), but this is interrupted by Gabriel

Gabriel: I will relish hounding you all until that nuclear waste dump you call is house is destroyed with you all in it!

Juleka: Oh, you are just begging to be dragged down to hell, aren’t you, Gabriel?

Marinette: And this family will never run from the likes of you again. *Her death glare stuns Gabriel*

Nino: Damn, I gotta learn how to do that.

Adrien finally stands up to his father and exposes how he’s been spying on everyone in the city while Alya live streams everything. Gabriel is now ruined

Months later, the Artists’ Home has been rebuilt by the guilty Parisians who learn to accept their new, weird neighbors. Also, the Spirit of the House has returned

Adrien and Marinette start dating while Alya and Nino share a mutual pining for the girl

[sohotthateveryonedied]

No Matter What

Read here on AO3!!

Summary: 

Bruce figures out that his son isn't straight from an early age.

That doesn't make him love him any less.

- Eight Years Old -

Bruce is finally starting to get a hang of this parenting thing.

The first few months were rough, there’s no disputing that. Bruce lost track of how many times he panicked and called Leslie Thompkins whenever Dick burst into tears over something and Alfred wasn’t home. Not to mention all the times when Alfred would leave Bruce on his own for dinner, insisting that one must learn how to raise a child without a butler to help. Bruce fed the kid burnt chicken nuggets and garlic bread for two nights straight. Now, though? Bruce is immensely proud of how far he and Dick have come. He’s even taken to attending PTA meetings, if only for the free coffee and doughnuts. He hears the front door open right on time, then wet boots hitting the floor. Dick had a half day today to make room for meet-the-teacher night later. Bruce isn’t looking forward to spending two hours sitting in a chair made for eight-year-olds, listening to a teacher in plastic pearls talk about an elementary schooler’s oh-so challenging curriculum. At least he’s only got the one; he has no intention of having more kids after Dick. Bruce busies himself with his mostly unburnt slice of toast, one ear trained on the footsteps through the foyer accompanied by unceasing chatter that Bruce has grown quite fond of over the months. “—and then they let us outside for recess even though it was raining, and I went on the swings and my hair got all wet and it was so cool.” “That explains the muddy clothes,” Alfred says. “Sorry, Alf. I’m not immune to mud puddles.” “It would appear so, Master Dick.”

The two of them enter the kitchen, Dick working his elbows out of his yellow rain slicker to reveal the school uniform beneath. His cheeks are rosy, his eyes bright. “Hiya, Bruce!”

“Hey, champ. How was school?” “It was awesome. It was raining all day and at recess there were a ton of puddles all over the playground and a million worms. I didn’t touch them though, ‘cause the teacher said not to.” “What snack would you like, Master Dick?” Alfred asks, taking Dick’s discarded raincoat and folding it over his arm. “Can you do ants on a log?” “Coming right up, sir.” Dick heaves himself up on the bar stool beside Bruce, his sock feet kicking against the lower cupboard. Bruce spreads marmalade over his toast. “Tell me more about school. Any fights today?” “Nope,” Dick says proudly, flashing his gapped teeth. Dick and another boy got into a scuffle on the first day over a comment about whether Dick’s parents being from the circus meant they were part monkey. It’s a miracle Dick only gave the kid a nosebleed and didn’t break anything. The principal let Dick off with a warning since it was his first time at a normal school, but Bruce has a feeling the only reason he wasn’t expelled was because his guardian is the most powerful man in Gotham City. Bruce had a stern talk with Dick when they got home about the importance of controlling one’s actions. Traveling the world in a circus train car doesn’t do much to help one’s impulse control. He also banned Dick from watching television for the rest of the night, but Dick’s crocodile tears swayed him to balance it out by letting him have ice cream before dinner. That’s good parenting, right? “I even made a friend,” Dick says. “Oh? What are they like?” “His name is Caleb and his desk is right next to mine, so we talked during reading time. Then he gave me some of his chocolate during lunch and we played on the swings together at recess.” “Ah, the wonders of childhood friendship,” Alfred says from where he’s slicing up a celery stalk at the other end of the counter. He sounds relieved, and Bruce finds himself matching it. Dick has been at Gotham Elementary for almost a week and hasn’t made a single friend until now. Bruce can’t tell if that is more because of Dick’s circus background or because he is a tan-skinned boy with the barest of Romani accents attending a predominantly white private school. Sometimes (all the time) Bruce loathes being associated with Gotham’s high society. If you’re not white, straight, and rich, you are automatically shunned in their minds. “He sounds great, Dick.” “Yeah! And he’s got really pretty eyes too. I can’t tell if they’re brown or green, but they’re sparkly like glitter.” Bruce arches an eyebrow. “You must like him a lot.” He takes a bite of his toast, making eye contact with Alfred over the boy’s head. Alfred doesn’t react but for a twitch of his mustache. Dick nods, focus switched over to the plate Alfred slides in front of him. Dick takes a celery stick and picks off the first raisin coated in peanut butter, licking it off his thumb. “I hope he talks to me again tomorrow. Alfred, can I bring an extra snack to lunch tomorrow so I can share it with him?” Alfred smiles. “Of course. I will pack a second cupcake in your lunchbox tomorrow morning just for him.” “Thanks, Alf.” Dick goes right back to eating his ants on a log, cheerful as ever, completely unaware of the swarm of question marks buzzing around in Bruce’s head. Huh. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Eleven Years Old - Bruce gets home from a three-hour business meeting, his sandpapery eyes aching to close and stay shut for...let’s go with ten years? That should be enough. He loosens his tie and prepares to go upstairs to his bedroom where he’ll spend the next decade of his life hibernating, until he sees his ward on the living room sofa. Dick is lying on his stomach with his face buried in a throw pillow, as if he’s waiting for the sofa to swallow him whole. Must have been a bad day if he’s not sliding down banisters and flipping over chairs like usual. Sighing, Bruce goes over. “Dick? You alive over there?” “Mmph.” At least he’s conscious. Bruce sits on the arm of the couch, shaking Dick’s thin shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. Use your words.” “Mmph.” “Bad day, then?” Dick nods. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Dick shakes his head. Bruce sits back with a frown. “Alfred?” he calls. Alfred pokes his head in. “Yes, Master Bruce?” Bruce gestures to their anguished preteen. “It would seem that our lad had a rough day at school. He wouldn’t tell me what, but I’m making his favorite casserole for dinner. Hopefully that will perk him up.” Bruce turns back to Dick, who hasn’t moved. “C’mon, Dickie. Sit up so I can see your face.” Reluctantly, Dick forces himself upright with one last groan into his pillow. His hair is mussed, standing up on one side. There’s a pillow crease on his cheek. He sits back against the sofa, miserable. “Better.” Bruce prods Dick’s ribs which earns him a giggle, goading the kid into sliding over a few inches so Bruce can sit beside him. Dick leans into his side immediately and Bruce puts his arm around him. “Now, tell me what’s got you down.” “I want to transfer schools.” “How come?” As far as he’s known until now, Dick has loved middle school. His childhood took a bad turn when his parents’ ropes snapped, but preteen life is at a good start. Until now. Dick’s gaze is trained on his sneakers, kicking them where they hang over the edge of the couch. “Some kids in my science class were talking crap about me.” “Don’t say crap.” “Can I go to a new school? Please?” “What did those kids say about you?” Dick picks at a dime-size hole in his jeans. “They called me gay,” he says quietly. Bruce tightens his arm around the boy, his heart panging. Of course someone had to bully Bruce’s kid. As if his life hasn’t already been hard enough without stupid teenagers making it worse. “I wasn’t even doing anything wrong. I was just talking to my lab partner, and the guys at the next table over started whispering about us. Then they started throwing papers.” “Did you tell the teacher?” “No. But I know she noticed. Everyone did. She just didn’t do anything about it.” That sets Bruce’s blood to a boil. Teachers have a responsibility to protect their students, no matter what. What gives her the right to turn a blind eye to bullying, just because a couple of students might not fit the agreed-upon standards of “perfect” upper class society? “I’ll set up an appointment with the principal,” Bruce decides. Dick’s eyes get wide. “Bruce, no. Please. It’s fine, really. I don’t want this to turn into a big deal.” “What did you do when it happened?” Dick shrugs. “Nothing. My lab partner stopped talking to me, so I just asked to go to the bathroom and didn’t come back until the bell rang.” Bruce sighs. Middle schoolers are the worst, every last one of them. (Except for Dick, of course; he is perfect.) “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Kids can be cruel—especially at your age, when they start learning new words that they don’t understand the way they should. They think some words are insults or something to be ashamed of when they’re not. Most kids grow out of this. Too many don’t.” “People suck,” Dick mutters. “I don’t even know why they were saying all that stuff. I’m not...I’m not like that” Bruce bites his cheek. He’s going to have to be careful about this. “Dick, do you know what being gay means?” “Duh. It’s when two guys date each other. I’m not stupid.” “I know you’re not stupid. But gay can mean a lot of things. Men can like other men, just as women can love other women. Like Kate, for instance. Then there are bisexual and pansexual people who love all genders, and asexuals who don’t like either.” Thank god Bruce thought ahead and read some LGBTQ+ research books all those years ago when he first began to suspect that Dick wasn’t heterosexual. “And transgender is when someone doesn’t identify with the gender they were assigned at birth. Sometimes people feel more like a man, a woman, neither, or both.” “...Okay?” “I just want to make sure you understand these things, because part of being a respectful person means respecting others for who they are. And if you don’t completely understand the label they identify as, then it’s your job to try and understand it the best you can.” “Why?” “Because too many people in this world judge others for things they can’t control, and that’s not right. No one should have to feel like they were born wrong. And I want to make sure you know this, that way you can be better than those who choose to hurt others for things they can’t control.” “Does that mean the guys who made fun of me are bad people?” “I’m sure they aren’t. They might just be confused because they don’t understand that being gay isn’t anything bad or dirty. The people in this part of Gotham...they don’t accept a lot of things. They think that being queer or a person of color means you don’t deserve respect, and that’s wrong. It was wrong of those kids to tease you and your lab partner the way they did.” Dick nods slowly. “I’m not gay.” “I know. I just want you to be aware of these things. And if you ever have questions or need to talk, you can always come to me.” He ruffles Dick’s hair. “Even when other people are nasty, remember that I love you no matter what, got it?” Dick shoves Bruce’s hand away and smoothes his hair back out, grinning. “Yeah, yeah. I got it.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Thirteen Years Old -

What’s the difference between a growth spurt and a shark? 

Dick doesn’t have any sharks. “We’re home!” Dick announces. He and Alfred stumble into the house, their arms filled with all kinds of shopping bags. With Dick shooting up half an inch nightly these days, he’s growing out of his clothes at a rate even Bane would gawk at. Bruce and Alfred can barely keep up with the kid. “Want to see what I got?” “Show me, pal.” Bruce sets aside his tablet and pushes his reading glasses up on his head. (He does not have poor vision, thank you very much. Leslie just made him get a prescription as a precaution, that’s all. He’s still young by anyone’s standards, just ask Selina.) Dick starts pulling clothing out of the boutique bags, showing off every one of his new sweaters and pairs of Alfred-approved jeans. After ten minutes that Bruce desperately tries to look interested during, Dick pulls out what looks like a t-shirt that’s been sliced in half horizontally. The fabric is bright pink with a chibi whale on the front. “This one is my favorite,” Dicks says. His grin is blinding. Bruce stares for a long moment, his brain a lagging computer drive. “What is it?” “It’s a crop top. You know, like a belly shirt?” Memories from Dick’s Kim Possible phase flash in front of Bruce’s eyes. “Alfred let you buy that?” “Yeah?” Dick’s smile flags. He lowers the crop top, suddenly self-conscious. “Do you not...like it?” “You were supposed to get winter clothes, Dick. For cold weather.” “So?” “That’s clearly something you’re supposed to wear during the summer.” Dick pouts. “But I like it.” He holds it up against himself, twisting this way and that like an amateur model. “Sorry, kiddo. You’re not leaving the house in that until springtime.” “Oh, so Robin can wear tiny shorts in the winter, but Dick Grayson can’t wear a harmless crop top? I smell hypocrisy.” “Yes, because Robin has thermal leggings and a built-in heater in his uniform.” He looks back at the pink monstrosity, at Dick’s pleading eyes. “I would be open to negotiations if you’re willing to wear a sweater under it.” “That’s not how fashion works, B.” “I don’t care. You can wait until it gets warmer out to wear it.” “You’re such a drag,” Dick whines. He lifts his dozens of shopping bags and goes to leave, then turns right back around. “What if I wear a jacket over it and promise to keep it closed whenever I’m outside?” Bruce considers that. “Fine. But not below fifteen degrees, got it? And if I see you outside for even five seconds without the jacket, I’m confiscating the Xbox. Deal?” “Deal.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Fourteen Years Old -

Something is different about Dick today. You’d think his boots were made of helium with the way he floats through patrol, and then smiles into his late-night milkshake like it did his homework for him. Bruce sits beside his Robin on the roof of Wayne Tower, silent for as long as he can bear before he can’t hold it back any longer. “Did anything interesting happen today?” “Huh?” Dick looks up as if Bruce pried him and his thoughts apart with a crowbar. “You’ve been...different. Happy.” “Am I not usually happy?” “No, you are. Just seems like you’re...extra happy, for whatever reason.” A blush dusts the kid’s cheeks. He sips his chocolate shake and shrugs. “Dunno. It was just a good day. Nothing special.” Yeah, and Bruce is a goddamn unicorn. Still, he knows better than to pry where Dick doesn’t want him. It’s a delicate thing. “If you say so.” “I got a hundred on my English essay,” Dick offers. It’s a start. “Was that the one on Grapes of Wrath?” “That was last month. We’re on Animal Farm now. It’s not my favorite.” “Yeah, I wasn’t a fan of Orwell either. Shakespeare was okay, but I preferred his tragedies over his comedies.” “Of course you did.” That makes Bruce laugh. He’s not worried; the two of them are high enough that no one can hear it. Bruce even has his cowl down, his face exposed to the cool air. “They had quinoa burgers at the cafeteria today.” “Mm-hm.” Dick is dodging something, beating around whatever bush he wants to talk about. Bruce can be patient while he figures it out. “And I spent some time with Barbara after school.” “Oh?” “Yeah. We walked home together and we took this old path through the park. Then we kissed.” Bruce chokes on his milkshake. He coughs, his sinuses burning and eyes watering. When he recovers, he says, “That’s...that’s great, chum.” “Yeah.” Dick can’t stop smiling, a true schoolboy in love. “And she asked if I wanted to patrol with her tomorrow night, but I said I needed to check in with you first.” “I don’t see why not.” It’s not like Bruce hasn’t patrolled without Dick before. Sure, he misses the company on the few days a week he’s alone, but he’s not about to deny Dick the thing he clearly wants. “You sure? You look...freaked out.” “No, no. That’s...great, that you kissed. Congratulations.” Awkward. He’s so fucking awkward. Stop being awkward right now. He doesn’t know why this is messing with his head so drastically. Bruce has listened to Dick moon over girls for the entirety of his pubescence, talking about them like they’re goddesses he’s forbidden to look upon, Barbara included. And Bruce has seen the way Dick and Barbara interact with each other in between muggings, always talking with their heads bent close like they’re the only two people in the world. Who would have thought Batman could be a third wheel? “I’ve liked her for a while now, but I didn’t know if she liked me back and I was too nervous to ask.” Dick’s face goes even pinker. “Kissing her was cool.” Part of Bruce’s brain jumps at the realization that, holy shit, Dick just had his first kiss, my little boy is growing up, what a milestone. The other part is far less happy about this new development. Yes, Bruce has seen Dick win brawls with men three times his size. He can fly the Bat-jet on his own, knows six languages, and is even leading his own superhero team. And yet, all Bruce can think is, no, not my little boy, he’s just a baby, Batgirl is corrupting his innocence and She Must Be Stopped. With great effort, Bruce holds it all back. He’s read the parenting books, he knows that it’s important to be supportive when they’re at this age. “Good to hear. I’m happy for you.” He pats Dick on the shoulder. “Thanks, B.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Sixteen Years Old - “Hey, Bruce? Can I talk to you?” Bruce doesn’t look up from the metal flakes he’s testing. “What is it?” “I can come back later if you’re busy.” “No, I’m just analyzing some samples. I’m looking for residue from one of Zsasz’s blades.” Dick steps forward, tentative for once. “Need any help?” “I would like for you to come out with whatever it is you clearly need to tell me.” Dick snorts quietly. “Nice phrasing.” “What?” “I think I’m bisexual.” Bruce turns around, forgetting about the samples entirely. Dick’s arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes skipping between everything that isn’t Bruce’s face. At sixteen years old he’s finally tall enough that he doesn’t have to crane his neck to look at Bruce anymore. “You...think?” “I am. I’m bisexual.” “Okay.” “Is that cool with you?” The question shocks Bruce. “Of course it is.” Did Dick honestly think this would change anything? Has Bruce done something wrong, made Dick think that he wasn’t loved unconditionally? Dick squints, appraises Bruce’s reaction. “You knew, didn’t you.” “No.” “Bruce.” “I knew a little bit.” Dick rolls his eyes. The tension slips from his shoulders. His arms uncross. “Of course you did.” “Well, you weren’t exactly subtle about it.” “What the hell does that mean?” “Language,” Bruce chides, more out of habit than anything. “And do you realize how often you would come home after elementary school complaining about stupid pretty boys?” “That was just me being dramatic.” “I’m not disputing that. But they were still crushes, pal.” “I figured you thought it was just a phase.” Bruce shrugs. “Maybe for the first few days. But trust me, I have known you liked boys since you were a kid.” “Then why didn’t you just say so? It took me years to figure this all out, and you’re telling me you’ve been sitting on this info the whole time?” “Because this is your truth, not mine. I knew that you would tell me about it when you were ready. And you have.” Dick is clearly fighting a smile. He bites his lip instead, runs a hand through his mop of black hair that not even Alfred can wheedle him into combing anymore. “Well, I’m heading to the tower for the night, so don’t wait up, ‘kay? Kay. Good talk.” He goes to leave, but Bruce stops him. “Hang on. Why choose now to tell me?” Dick stuffs his hands in his pockets—an obvious tell. “No reason. I just...wanted you to know. Just in case.” “In case of what?” “Oh, you know.” Dick waves his hand in a gesture that clarifies absolutely nothing. “Life happens. People meet each other. You know how it is.” Bruce’s soul implodes. “You have a date?” “I never said that.” “You implied it.” “Real detectives rely on evidence, not theories.” Dick winks. “Tell me who it is. Are they a civilian? A hero? Do they come from a respectable family?” If it’s Roy Harper, Bruce might have to bury a body tonight. Especially after learning about Harper’s drug problem. Dick is too pure for someone like that. Or—heaven forbid—that Wally West kid. Dick is already walking away. “See ya, Bruce!” “You come back here, Richard John Grayson! Do I know him? Does he know your father is Batman?” Dick’s cackle echoes around the cave. “It had better not be a speedster!”

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 8: merry ex-mas

Character A’s ex will be at the Christmas party A is attending. Character B poses as A’s fiancée,, percabeth

Percy’s heart just about stops the second he sees his ex at the Christmas Party.

He has just walked into the room, prepared for this to be a good night, but then all hope going flying out the window when he catches the red flash of hair that’s painfully familiar. He really shouldn’t be surprised considering all their friends were the same, but he didn’t think they’d both be invited.

It’s been a few years he supposes, but he still can’t bear to face her. It wasn’t like their relationship ended in a hostile manner or anything. She had just dumped him, and he had been heartbroken, and they haven’t spoken since.

That being said, he thinks it’s totally appropriate when he walks right back out the front door of the party and holds himself against the wall. He’s sure the people that pass by him think he’s going insane, but he can’t bring himself to really care because his ex-girlfriend is in there, and if she sees him alone, she’ll no doubt make a jab at him, and that just cannot happen.

Percy doesn’t move for what feels like eternity. He’s thinking of every possible solution, but the only one that comes to mind is flat out leaving. The only problem is that people have already seen him and greeted him, and it would make its way to her that he left, and then she’d know. Percy curses himself for getting into this situation in the first place. There’s no escape at this point, and it kills him. The only way out would be to do something stupid like fake being engaged, or—

Percy starts, standing straighter.

He could fake being engaged.

Honestly, it’s the best chance he has of not being made fun of by his ex. But Percy knows her too well despite it being years. It would bother her to no end to see him with another girl, much less engaged to another girl.

About a million things could go wrong, but he thinks it’s brilliant.

As Percy begins to through the groups for anyone that looked willing to participate in plan fake-engagement, he can’t believe that this is what his life has come to. He should be ashamed of himself.

Oh well.

People walk into the party in groups or pairs, and it makes his life much more difficult. New York in the winter is freezing, and his fingers are becoming painfully numb. He’s about to give up as his body starts involuntarily shivering, but then there’s finally a girl approaching the front door by herself, and this is his only chance.

She looks really pretty, too. She’s wearing a short black dress with a pink wool coat reaching to right below the length of the dress, and her hair falls in blonde ringlets down her back, ruffled in the wind. She would be the perfect fiancée for him.

“Uh – hi,” he says, stepping a bit into her path. It’s admittedly not the best thing to say to a stranger you’re about to propose to, but how else is he supposed to start this conversation?

“Hi,” she answers cautiously. She moves a bit to his side as though she’s about to step around him, but he moves to follow her. The glare she gives him has him jumping back in alarm. “Can you move?”

“Yeah, I will,” he says. “I just have a quick question, if that’ll alright.”

There’s a pause as she doesn’t answer. Her grey eyes trace over his, questioning, and then she says, “Do I know you?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Then I’d appreciate it if you could move so I could, you know, get inside.”

Maybe she isn’t the best fiancée because he can already tell that her patience is thin in the first two seconds that he’s been speaking to her. Still, he’s out of options.

“I need you to marry me.”

She blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“Just for tonight,” he promises.

“Uh, the length of the marriage is not my concern here.”

Percy glances over his shoulder, making sure no one was listening. This didn’t seem like it was going to be ending in his favor, and he did not need an audience for that.

“My ex is in there,” he pleads. “If I go in there, she’s going to have some rich boyfriend on her arms, and I’m going to look like a loser. She likes to insult me, according to my friends, and it would really make her mad if she thought we were engaged.”

She chokes. “Your solution to seeing your ex is to fake an engagement?”

“I never said I was smart.”

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever head.”

Percy’s moves out of her way, conceding to the fact that she wasn’t going to be of any assistance. Surprisingly, she doesn’t move.

“How do you plan on making it work?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“Are you considering doing it?”

“Oh, no, but I want to see just how badly this is going to go.”

“I’ll be honest. I didn’t think that far.”

She laughs, covering her mouth. “She’s going to know.”

“Not if you help me,” he pleads. “We’d be a cute couple, too…”

She grins, sensing the silent question. “Annabeth.”

“Percy,” he returns. “This is going to come off weird, but you’re super pretty, and she would not like that.”

“She’s the jealous type, huh?” Annabeth shifts on her feet, biting her lower lip. “I do love making people jealous.”

He claps once. “Perfect!”

“And if I do help you, what do I get out of it?” She smirks. “Besides a hot fiancé.”

“I’ll take you to dinner afterwards.”

“Hm. Where?”

Percy’s wallet screams as he says, “Wherever you want.”

“Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse.” She steps towards him and slides her arm into his. Percy is completely astonished that it worked, and as they step inside, he realizes how natural this feels, which is hilarious considering this is the least natural engagement there is.

There is a wave of warmth that washes over them, and there’s Christmas music playing in the background.

“So,” she starts, locking eyes with him. “Is there a plan?”

“The plan is to not fuck this up.”

“Foolproof.”

They don’t actually end up talking to anyone for a while. It turns out there weren’t as many people there that he knew as he thought there was. His ex is still there with her friends in the corner of the room, and Percy’s sure she’s seen him by now. There are eyes burning holes into the back of his neck.

“Who are we trying to fool?”

“Behind us. The girl with red hair. Her name is Rachel.” Annabeth outright turns on the couch to glance at her, not at all subtle, and Percy nearly shrieks.

“She was looking at you,” Annabeth tells him. “And now she knows we were looking at her,” he mutters. “Thanks for that.”

“What do we do?”

Percy blanks. “I don’t know.”

“Tell me what to do! I’ve never been in a fake relationship before!”

He gawks. “You think I have!?”

“This was your idea,” she accuses, but she slides in closer to him. Her body presses up against him. He tries not to focus on the curves he feels pressing into his body. Percy’s hand automatically goes to wrap around her waist and holds her in place.

It takes a while before they actually have to speak to anyone, and when they do, it’s not at all smooth. Percy’s bright red as he introduces her as his fiancée to a group of kids from his class, and Annabeth doesn’t even hide the laugh that bubbles out of her mouth. She seems to bask in his embarrassment, and it makes Percy feel a little insulted.

(Also a little endeared, for some reason)

“That wasn’t funny,” he says, avoiding eye contact after they leave.

“That was hilarious,” she disagrees.

“Shut up.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“How could you expect me not to.”

Percy glares at her and is about to retort something, but then someone else is standing in front of him, and when he finally tears his eyes away from Annabeth, he is surprised to see Rachel standing right before him, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Percy,” she says, though her eyes are trained to Annabeth. “It’s been a while.”

He shifts uncomfortably. He had thought he wanted to make her jealous, but he had been so deep in conversation with Annabeth that he’s lowkey disappointed to be pulled out of it. “It has been.”

“How are you?” she asks, and Percy can sense the plastic tone of her voice. He hates it, and he hates the way she’s looking at Annabeth as though she’s ever had any right to judge.

Percy’s grip tightens on Annabeth. “It’s going pretty well. The wedding is only in a few months now, so that’s been pretty busy.”

He sees the gears turn in her head. “The wedding?”

Percy mocks a frown. “My fiancée and I are getting married. Haven’t you heard?”

“Of course I have,” she says, “I just didn’t hear anything about a wedding.”

Percy quickly learns that Annabeth is absolutely horrible at masking her emotions as she presses her face into the sleeve of his shirt and snickers. The lie is so obvious considering Percy and Annabeth themselves haven’t even heard of a wedding.

“Invitations were sent out months ago,” he says innocently.

“Oh? I was invited?”

Percy pouts. “Of course not. I just figured you would have heard.” The look on Rachel’s face is priceless. Percy doesn’t think him and Annabeth are convincing in the slightest, but it is pretty fun regardless. “I don’t think you’ve met my fiancée. Rachel, this is Annabeth,” he says, motioning to the girl in his arms. “Annabeth, Rachel.”

“Nice to meet you,” Annabeth says. She doesn’t sound pleased to meet her at all. She’s nothing if not a loyal fake fiancée. “Heard so much about you.”

“All good things I hope,” Rachel says.

Annabeth gives her a sympathetic look. “I wish I could say they were all good things, but you know how it is.”

“I know how Percy is,” she counters.

Annabeth laughs, and Percy feels tiny under her scrutinizing gaze. He didn’t know someone could disarm another person with just once glance, but here he was about to marry that person. He kind of loves it. “Baby, no, you don’t.”

Rachel looks like she’s about to open her mouth to say something else, no doubt a weak jab back at Annabeth, but then Annabeth turns to look at him, a soft smile on her face. “We should probably get going, yeah? We have the meeting with the wedding planner tomorrow.”

Percy decides to play along. “I thought we had the cake tasting in the morning.”

“The meeting is for the cake tasting, silly.” And next thing he knows, she’s pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, leaving him trying his best to not make it overbearingly obvious that his brain is going haywire. “Let’s go, yeah?”

Her face is close to his, and he can feel her breath on his lips. He wants to kiss her again, so he does. For the act, of course. “Let’s go.”

They stand up together, hand in hand, and they barely even glance at Rachel as they walk past. Annabeth calls over her shoulder, “It was nice to match the name to the face,” and they leave trying to maintain what little composure they had left.

The second they make it out of the house, Annabeth breaks down laughing, and Percy follows after her.

“Oh my god,” she wheezes. “That was amazing.”

“There’s no way she believed us,” he breathes out, ducking to rest his hands on his knees. “That was the worst performance of my life, and I was in theatre in high school.”

Annabeth laughs harder, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “Did you see her face?”

“Yes. I didn’t know someone could be so mean. She looked like she was about to cry!”

Annabeth shrugs, still stifling giggles. “Who cares. She’s never going to see me again anyways.”

That does bring Percy back down. It’s been maybe two hours since they met, but he’s loved every second of it. He wants to see her again, but…

“I guess I owe you that dinner now, huh?”

She runs her fingers through her hair. “You don’t have to.”

Percy swallows, looking anywhere except her eyes. “I want to.”

“Oh.”

Percy brings his eyes back to hers now and finds her looking at him with a smirk. “You’re laughing at me again.”

“Only because we’ve been engaged and you still don’t know how to ask me out,” she assures.

Percy brings himself to her. “Annabeth. Would you like to get dinner with me?”

“Depends on where,” she says teasingly.

“Anywhere your heart desires.”

She puts her hands behind his neck and kisses him once. “I’d love to.”

Percy thinks it’s a bit insane how everything has played out. They started with an engagement, and now they’re on a date, and he’s already falling in love. It must be something of a Christmas miracle.

[onechicagorpf]

Two Can Play This Game

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Chicago Med ED doctor)

Summary: Y/N and Jay have a very undefined relationship, which causes problems when Jay decides to meet with Ally, his ex, for drinks. Y/N’s not one to take things lightly, so when Jay dismisses her jealousy she decides to give him a taste of his own medicine...

Warnings: Loud yelling-at-each-other arguments, which can be triggering, so please watch out! Swearing + dubious medical content, as per usual lol

A/N: I just needed a break before I got started on Not A Stranger Part 4, so this happened! Enjoy! As per usual, please leave comments if you really liked it - they mean a lot!

The sun is bearing down on you hard, and you feel a trickle of sweat go down the back of your neck.

“Need a drink?” It’s Ethan, tossing a cool bottle of water at you. Grinning, you catch it and quickly begin to empty it into your mouth.

Ethan’s frowning, looking up into the sky. “Some days, I just don’t get Chicago. It’s either freezing because it’s the polar vortex, or it’s boiling hot because - well. Whatever. I hate this.” Crushing the plastic bottle, you toss it into a nearby trashcan. “We’ve cleared everyone?” You ask, gesturing to the relatively less frantic movement of firefighters, cops, and doctors on the road. Ethan nods.

A gas explosion had gone off in an apartment, and it was bad enough that CFD paged ED doctors to come down and treat some patients on the scene. Natalie, Connor, Lanik and the student doctors opted to stay behind and hold down the fort, so you were dispatched out with Will and Ethan. For the last hour and a half, you’d been busy running triage and treating whatever burns, smoke inhalations, and other trauma injuries came your way. Luckily, the fire had been contained to just one floor, so there were only a few really awful burns. But of course, this is Chicago so there’s only so much luck going around.

The building was an old one, and that coupled with several structural defects meant that the south face of the building had partially collapsed. So in essence, for every burn victim CFD pulled out, there were about three penetrating or blunt traumas from falling concrete.

“Yeah, but I’d rather treat trauma from a falling object than burns any day,” Ethan comments and you raise your eyebrows. “See, if you’d told me that at the start I would’ve just taken all the burn vics and tossed the rest to you.” Ethan throws his hands up, as you start laughing. “Okay hold on, I didn’t say I wanted to take them all – ” “You guys good?” Cruz swings by, soot and sweat on his face. He takes off his helmet with a sigh, and his shoulders sag like he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Should be asking you that. Are you guys done with search and rescue?” You ask, kicking a nearby plastic chair towards him. Cruz thanks you and starts taking off his equipment. “Yeah, we’ve cleared building. CPD’s in there now.” You nod, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of the police - well specifically at the thought of one detective who you know is on scene…

Except you’re supposed to be mad at him now, so stop thinking about him!

“So they think this is arson? And that it’s related to some case Intelligence is working?” Ethan asks, and Cruz nods, “Seems that way, yeah.”

There’s a moment of silence, and your eyes scan the area, watching patrol officers lift up police tape for the last few victims being wheeled into ambulances. You get up, ready to check with Will if he’s ready to go back when Cruz kicks at your feet, a cheeky smile on his face.

“So what’s this I hear about you and the younger Halstead being on the outs?” His eyes light up, and you groan, swearing. Ethan laughs, and you shoot him a glare, to which he simply shrugs like as if he’s got nothing to do with this.

You turn back to Cruz, narrowing your eyes at him. “Who told you and what do you know?”

“All I know is that you and Jay were both at Molly’s last night and you didn’t even look at each other.” Cruz pouts, acting all sad. “What happened to my favourite detective-doctor duo, huh? Why the trouble in paradise?”

You roll your eyes. “We’re fine. We just…were hanging out with different groups of people last night.” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean against the nearby table of supplies, trying to look all nonchalant. Ethan raises his eyebrows, “So you’re definitely not pissed about the blonde chick Jay had drinks with 2 nights ago?”

“Okay, fuck you - ” You exclaim, unable to hide your rage at that memory. Which Ethan and Cruz find hilarious, apparently, because they’re throwing their heads back and laughing.

“You guys suck,” You punch Cruz in the arm as you walk away; the two men calling you back while still laughing. You flip your middle finger at them, which elicits an outraged “Hey!” Shaking your head, you chuckle as well.

The Med ED/Firehouse 51/Intelligence circle is a tight one and you love it - love having friends who are more or less in the same line of work, friends you can lean on, friends who don’t get pissed when you have to cancel on them last minute. But the flip side of that is the fact that nothing stays secret. Gossip is most the valuable currency in that social circle, so if Cruz and Ethan know, then it’s not a bad guess to think everyone knows.

“Dude, c’mon. You’re an adult. Just take the damn injection!” Severide’s voice catches your attention, and you turn. He’s standing at the back of an ambulance, with Will and Jay by his side (your heart, again, skips a beat, which only pisses you off because ugh, you’re so bad at being angry at him!). The three of them are crowded around a fairly attractive, topless blonde man sitting in the back of the ambulance, shaking his head vehemently. You start making your way towards them, listening in.

“Hell nah – I’m not letting you stab me with that shit – ” The guy’s eyes are wide, and he’s leaning back from Will.

“It’s just a tetanus shot,” Will explains, exasperated. He points to the guy’s side, where a bandaged piece of gauze has been stuck to his skin. “The rusty stairwell scratched you, so you need to get a tetanus shot.”

“I said, I’m not fucking doing needles!” Hot blond guy yells and Jay runs his hand down his face. “Okay dude seriously, I can’t question you about the fire unless you get treated first, so please just take the damn shot so we can all move on with our lives – ”

“What’s going on?” You interject, hands on your hips. All four men turn, and you’re very careful to not make eye contact with Jay. Will and Kelly both immediately shoot furtive glances at Jay once they see you, so obviously they also know that you and Jay are having an argument. Great!

I mean, it has to have been Jay’s fault, because you didn’t tell anyone…well except for Natalie…who might have told Maggie…who might have told April…who might have told Kelly - shit. Well, it doesn’t matter. The whole thing is only happening because of Jay. Technically the two of you weren’t really dating – it was just a couple of hookups, but then you also started hanging out a lot together, and it got to the point where everyone knew that the two of you were basically kinda sorta an item.

You liked that you guys never had to sit down and talk about what exactly the two of you were – all that meant was that you guys were strong and confident and that you didn’t need to have a discussion about where you stood!

Or at least that’s what it meant to you. Jay apparently thought it meant it was completely okay to go have drinks with an on and off ex from high school, who he’d admitted to you he’d hooked up with on multiple occasions in the past. When you (rightfully!) got pissed at him, he just frowned and said “What’s the problem? We’re not together.”

To which you responded very maturely.

So maturely!

In a very, very responsible way…

Okay, fine, maybe you screamed “FUCK YOU!” at the top of your lungs and left his apartment, slamming his front door loud enough to wake up all the neighbours.

You get that you’re maybe being a little over-dramatic, and maybe it is on you because you just assumed you didn’t have to have that conversation with Jay. But it hurt you immensely how he thought it was okay to go have drinks with an ex (an ex!) without thinking about you at all.

“Blake here tripped on his way down the fire escape and got scraped by a rusty stairwell, but he’s refusing his tetanus shot.” Will explains, snapping you out of your reverie.

You turn to the guy just in time to catch him giving you a very slow once over, smirking.

Okay…

“How come a big strong guy like you is scared of needles, hmm?” You tilt your head, putting on your best flirty voice. It’s just a thing that tends to work with unruly male patients, you’ve learned over the years.

And yeah, maybe it can be a side benefit that Jay’s going to be an audience to you flirting with someone else…serves him right!

“I’m uh, I’m not actually scared of needles. Just didn’t trust that guy – ” He nods towards Will, who throws his hands in the air, “ – to do a good job you know? Take a delicate hand for these things. Speaking of which…you look like you’re pretty good with your hands,” Blake licks his lips, flirting with you blatantly. You have to press your lips against each other to not burst out laughing.

“Dude…” Jay threatens in a deep, dark voice, but stops when you turn around and grab the tetanus shot pack out of Will’s hands. You step towards Blake, who’s looking up at you with lust in his eyes as he shifts for you. Wiping his shoulder down with an alcohol swab, you find a good spot.

“I’m pretty good with my hands too, by the way,” Blake supplies, winking and you nod. “I’ll bet,” You reply, as someone behind you scoffs. From the corner of your eye, you can see Kelly turn away, trying not to laugh.

You’re much closer to Blake than you really need to be, not that he minds – in fact you’re pretty sure he’s having a great time checking you out up close. He curses under his breath when you inject him, but quickly recovers. You rub on the jab site once done, and trash the used pack. “Good to go,” You shoot Blake a smile. “Oh, one more thing!”

You turn, looking at a very frowny, jaws tight, arms-crossed-over-his-chest Jay Halstead. “Let me borrow that,” You reach forward and take his notepad and pen from him, before scribbling down your number on the top most sheet. Ripping it off, you press it against Blake’s chest, winking. Blake’s hands come up to take the piece of paper, grinning, briefly brushing your fingers as you pull away. Jay’s jaw is on the floor when you return his notepad and pen to him, and you can see Will just shake his head at you, amusement all over his face.

“Alright, let’s go!” You say to Will, and the two of you plus Kelly leave Jay behind with Blake.

“Jay’s going to murder that guy, you know right?” Kelly asks, once you’re out out earshot from Jay. “Like, he’s going down for a homicide. You just got an innocent man killed.” You chuckle and Will lets out a low whistle.

“I’m not gonna say he didn’t have that coming, but damn that was harsh.” The older Halstead says, still laughing.

Shrugging your shoulders, you act innocent. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about – I was just making friends!”

Will and Kelly both look at each other before looking back at you.

“Oh, yeah, of course – ”

“Obviously, what else could that have been – ”

You punch them both in the shoulder at their faux-agreement, the three of you laughing. Ethan comes over, saying there’s an ambulance ready to take them back to Med. You and Will say your goodbyes to Kelly, and take your leave.

***

It’s almost midnight when you finally get home. Hip-checking your door close behind you, you start undoing your scarf and carelessly toss it onto your coffee table, before collapsing onto your couch. Your hand roams the crevices of your couch, finding the plastic remote and turning on your TV. Rubbing your eyes while yawning, your TV comes alive to the news of the day. As if on cue, the screen is filled with videos of the building from earlier this morning.

“…while the gas explosion was first assumed to be an accident, it was later proven by CPD Intelligence that it was started by Derrick Henderson, a 35 year-old construction worker from Englewood, who…”

There’s a knock on your door, three loud raps. You blink, confused, and there’s another three. Frowning, you sit up, and you hear: “Y/N, I know you’re in there, c’mon just…just let me in, please,” Jay’s voice is muffled from the other side of your front door, but you know it’s him. Groaning, you get up and make your way over, unlatching your door.

“What do you want.” You intone, seeing him standing there in your threshold. He grabs the door with his hand, like as if he’s afraid you’re gonna shut the door in his face.

“I think I owe you an apology,” Jay starts and you hum, agreeing. “And then I think you owe me an apology,” He finishes, and your mouth falls open.

“What the fuck did I do!” You yell, shoving against his chest. Unfortunately for you, he doesn’t even budge - which is kinda hot, actually, wait, dammit - focus!

Jay’s eyes go wide, like he can’t believe you’re claiming innocence. “Are you kiddi – that whole thing! With – with Blake, the fucking moron, who was basically stripping you with his eyes! That was so unnecessary – ”

“You literally went on a date with your ex and you’re telling ME what’s unnecessary?! You – ”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Your neighbour from down the hall yells, and both you and Jay shut up. “NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS YOU FUCKING MORONS!”

Jay scoffs, and turns to step down your hallway to your neighbour’s apartment when you reach out, grab him by his tee and unceremoniously drag him into your apartment. Slamming the door behind you, you turn to give him a piece of your mind.

“You’re the asshole who told me that we weren’t really together so it didn’t matter if you went out with your ex-girlfriend! So why the fuck is it a problem if I give my number out, huh?!”

Jay throws his hands in the air. “I’m sorry, okay! I didn’t fucking – I wasn’t thinking when I did what I did and I can see know that it probably really hurt you, but I swear I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t want to hurt you; I just fucked up. But you – you went out of your WAY to piss me off – ”

“ALL I DID WAS GIVE OUT MY NUMBER – ”

“IN FRONT OF ME! TO SOME OTHER GUY! WHEN I – ”

The two of you jump when there’s loud banging on your door. “I’M CALLING THE FUCKING POLICE ON YOU TWO!”

Jay wrenches your door open and you see your pissed off neighbour on the other side. “I’M HER BOYFRIEND AND I’M THE FUCKING POLICE, SO YOU’D JUST BE CALLING ME!” He slams the door shut and turns, running his hands over his face.

“Okay, okay, we gotta stop yelling. Anyway, my point is – what?” Jay asks, as you stand unmoving, mouth slightly open.

When you eventually find your voice, all you can say is - “You’re my boyfriend?”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you – ” Jay smiles, reaching for you but you just step back.

“That you just decided you’re my boyfriend? Because this relationship is an autocracy?” You glare at him, getting angry again. The nerve of this guy!

Not that your heart didn’t practically soar when he called himself your boyfriend, but…

“No, no, we’re very democratic, and we should talk about this more, once we’re done with all the yelling.” Jay announces, and then he smiles. “I’m just saying I love you.”

“See, no, this is exactly the kind of issue with you - you just make decisions and act like you’re right and you can do whatever you want and you can go out with your ex if you want and that’s all supposed to be fine but the moment I – as a joke – hand out my number to some guy to give you a taste of your medicine, I’m the one who crossed a line and – wait, what?” You cut yourself off, confused if you’re hearing things.

“There we go,” Jay laughs, a fond smile etched on his face, as you finally process what he said.

“Did you just…did you just say you love me?” You ask, your voice soft as you step up to him.

“Yeah,” Jay’s grinning now, right in front of you. “I’m sorry it took me a while to realise it, but…I love you.”

You just blink at him for a couple of seconds, eyes starting to tear up. And then you punch him in the chest as hard as you can.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” Jay asks, eyes wide as he frowns, wholly confused.

“You fucking – fuck!” You whisper angrily, not wanting to piss off your neighbour again. “You had to fucking go out on a date with your ex-girlfriend and piss me the fuck off and make me make you jealous before you realised that you love me?!”

“I’ve been hit in the head multiple times…?” Jay shrugs apologetically.

“You’re an idiot.” You say, before cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pulling him down to press your lips together.

You can feel Jay smile through the kiss, bringing his hands up to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, parting your lips. You’ve kissed each other many times before, in many ways – good morning pecks, in-the-middle-of-sex makeouts, teasing neck kisses – but something about this kiss is entirely new. It’s just…warm, and loving, and delicate and beautiful and just – just perfect.

When you pull apart, the two of you rest your foreheads against each other, smiling like dumb idiots.

“Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”