#so we can go to the funeral but not the wake

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 || 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐘𝐮𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐞 𝐗 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ no matter what, you’d never be his priority, after Balhae, you decide it’s time to leave him behind and when he wakes up alone, he realizes how stupid it would be live without you.

warnings_ AGE GAP (not specific but implied early 20s), ANGST, SPOILERS, blood, sex pollen lol, BAD smut (not heavily detailed bc I’m lazy), biotechnology inaccuracies, etc, plot twist at the end, NO PROOFREADING YET.

notes_oh to be in a doomed abandoned space station with gong yoo and making him fall in love with me // I refuse to accept there isn’t season two of the silent sea and that Yun Jae is dead + using salesman tags to avoid the flop.

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo

✰ Index (+ fics here)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

You can’t breathe.

Your hands shake in panic and you start violently tapping at the glass in the window.

“DON’T DO THIS!” You scream with evident pain in your voice.

He only eyes you with something you can’t identify. It’s either guilt or sorry, you guess.

“Please, don’t leave me alone again…” he hears you say.

But he prefers to let you live.

Yun Jae barely eyes you, but he’s suffering too.

The worst part? He wanted to make you believe it so badly. And you do…

Jian grabs you by the waist and urges you to get out with Dr. Hong and Luna. You sob and the sweat mixes with the tears as you make everything not fall apart amidst the escape of Balhae.

You see the moon, the stars, the freezing water, and the darkness of space. If you were on earth, you know it’d be crescent.

How can a place so beautiful cause so much pain?

“We have to keep going, y/n,” Dr. Hong says, patting your back and seeing if you are correctly breathing to save oxygen. “Hold the tears, y/n. You can’t lose oxygen now…”

She doesn’t mean to sound insensitive, you know it.

Yun Jae gave you the signals the moment you met him. It was you who thought he could change. By the grace of love, only silly you thought that was possible.

And as you lose oxygen because you can’t stop sobbing, you understand you were never his priority.

…

Your hand never let go of his. Your touch is warm and he remains cold as ice. The reports can’t assure he will get better. The rescue was full of tension and you couldn’t even remember the moment your feet touched the earth. It felt like the woman who boarded the spaceship and the one who returned were two different people. You got scared, of becoming trapped in the horrors of the memories in Balhae.

His daughter died two days before you got rescued. The body was still being held, in hopes Yun Jae awakened and decided what to do. Without water, even funerals had changed. You didn’t want to be the person to tell him the news, you didn’t want to care for him if he showed progress. Just looking at him being in the middle of life and death made you feel sick.

Your heart was beyond broken and your mind was holding you hostage of your own memories. You wanted to go back home.

And when the doctor returned with reports of Yun Jae likely waking up in the following days, you just got a reason to leave.

You eye the man you love one last time and tears pool in your eyes. You deserved to be free from any trace of pain. And of anyone who caused said pain, even when probably it wasn’t their intention.

Your lips leave a gentle kiss on his cheek and you hold your breath as you leave the cold hospital room. Through the corridors, as you walk, you cross into a familiar person.

“Jian…” she looks up and briefly smiles at you before returning to her usual face. Her hair looked longer and there was an improvement on her, she looked less shy and less quiet. “Y/n…”

“How is Yun Jae?” You sigh, remembering the reason why you were leaving the hospital. “He’s officially stable, he’ll likely wake up in a couple of days…”

“Aren’t you happy?” She asks, showing shyness once again but also curiosity.

“I’m going back home…” her eyes snap open. “What? Why, y/n?”

“I can’t be here when he wakes up” You barely hear yourself, Jian only sighs. “I miss my home, my family. I’m tired of waiting for a man and needing him to love me back”

She looks understanding, and Jian slowly nods.

“I understand” She offers you her hand to shake and it’s enough to make you smile because you consider the gesture as a silent ‘We’re friends’.

“I will call from time to time” She nods as you smile at her. “And no matter what, if Yun Jae wakes up, you don’t know where I am”

The agreement disclosure isn’t much of Jian’s liking. She believes Yun Jae loves you too. But she had said it to you multiple times in Balhae and you never believed her.

“Take care of Luna” you lastly say.

“She’s in good hands” Both of you smile again before you leave.

Your throat feels sore, and you feel like you are choking as you try to reach the exit of the hospital.

When you feel like you can’t take it anymore, you start jogging towards a restroom. You lock inside a stall. The quiet public space is interrupted by the disgusting sound of you vomiting.

Curious thing, your vomit was transparent liquid. Just water…

[one month ago]

To say the place you were habituating was cursed, was right. Balhae had proven to be a mystery and danger in less than twenty-four hours. Two people of the crew had died. You barely knew anyone and the captain was the last person you wanted to interact with. Han Yun Jae and you met in a bar. Where drinks were expensive, people judged and everyone mourned something. He grew curious because you looked young and too sane to have access to fine drinks. But it was you who exchanged the first words. There wasn’t much talk before you ended up naked and letting him fuck you in your apartment. He was soft and rough, his hair fell upon his forehead and he prioritized your pleasure before his.

Until there was no trace of him in the morning.

No note, message, nothing.

But why were you expecting such things for starters? He was a man after all…

So when you realized it was too late to back up from going to space, you accepted Han Yun Jae would be your captain whether you liked it or not.

“Do you have the map?” He asks, pointing at the dark alleyway with his flashlight before returning his attention to you.

“I thought everyone had it” he has eyes like you he’s facing the most stupid person in the world. You simply shrug uncomfortably, ignoring his eyes.

“Yes. But I’m specifically asking if you downloaded it” You resist the urge to roll your eyes and huff in annoyance.

“I have it downloaded. Happy?”

“That attitude won’t get us to the food storage,” he says and your hands form firsts. Before stepping closer to him.

“Then fucking stop judging every step I give!”

“I’m not” Yun Jae firmly says.

“Every single time. I know things are hard for everyone, mate. It sucks we had to lose two crew members so early. And I’m sorry we have to work together after our one-night stand. But I know what my job is and I don’t need you picking on me because you think I’m gonna mess up everything” The anger in your voice was hard to miss.

“Once we’re all settled in, we should talk” he attempts, but you won’t agree.

“There’s nothing to talk about” You push past Yun Jae and quietly continue following the path to the food storage.

The captain only stares as you walk away, hands on his hips and sighing in defeat.

He just wanted to protect you.

…

A trail of blood grows as Tae Suk and Yun Jae pull you up, you had just gotten out of the basement where all the lunar water was.

You start holding the tears as your brain processes the pain and you look at your leg.

“You’re losing blood” Doctor Hong alerted, moving you away so the rest of the crew could get out of the growing flooded basement.

“The plant…” you barely say.

“That’s not important right now,” Yun Jae says getting into you and Doctor Hong. You barely eye him, but you know he was fixated on you. “Tae Suk, help me out here…”

Both men slide their arms under your armpits and tangle them around your waist to help you stand up.

“Yun Jae, please bring the plant” you plead with him, starting to see blurred spots through your vision.

He doesn’t reply. The man feels his heart beating faster as your body starts feeling heavier.

He almost yelled when he heard you slipped from the emergency stairs. With the panic of water flooding the place and the mysterious intruder in the base, Yun Jae was hyperventilating when you came out, your suit ripped all the way up your left leg, and blood washing the floor.

Once the door was locked again, he took a breath, the way to the medical aisle felt shorter. Doctor Hong stepped in and helped to place you on a stretcher. You are awake but it was evident you were disassociating.

“I’ll take it from here” the doctor announced and everyone stepped back, except for Yun Jae.

“Is she going to be okay?” Both women apart from you looked at him with subtle arched brows. Soon Jian connected the dots and repressed a smile.

“I promise”

…

Without the sense of time passing, you find yourself in endless agony until the serum pumping through your veins finishes. You remove the needle yourself and it stings, but not as much as your wounded leg.

It was a fluke you could walk without much problem, but the area would be sore for a couple of days, and the suit wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable thing to wear.

Anyhow, the plant found in the basement under the database of Balhae rested in a crystal case on a table near the stretcher you were placed in.

Soon you are dressed again, in joggers and a tank top, but there are gloves, goggles, and a face mask covering you.

The leaves of the plant were oddly thin, the green was just too bright that you almost considered identifying them as neon green. It was dangerous to conduct research given that some of the lunar water must be included in the plant’s DNA.

You’re so concentrated in the process that you don’t see a figure entering the lab.

“How dangerous is the research?” You jump out startled. Your hands drop the cold tweezers and hold onto the table.

Yun Jae stands there, cautiously looking at the plant.

“You scared me to death…” you say, ignoring his question until your heartbeats return to normal. He waits until you take off the gloves and goggles. “It’s not as dangerous as the lunar water. Seems to be less invasive and corrosive”

He nods before tilting his head. You were trying your best to ignore him. But your hands start sweating, a good indicator of how nervous he made you.

“Listen, y/n… I feel like we need to-”

“I don’t want to talk about it” you firmly say, interrupting him and taking the tweezers again.

“Do you regret it?”

Yun Jae was never good enough with words. He lacked the emotional vulnerability to speak his mind. But he was a sensible man, only that he unconsciously locked himself so nobody could see that.

He didn’t know why he suddenly needed to be okay with you. He couldn’t say loved you, he barely knew you, but he was growing fond of you too quickly.

And you hadn’t answered yet…

You contemplate answering. But you don’t…

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it” You carefully grab the plant, rushing to move away from Yun Jae.

But he had other plans.

First, you felt his big hands on you. Left on your hip and right on your forearm. He made you turn back to face him and you stare nervously.

If tension could speak, it would scream.

The proximity was making you even more nervous. And how couldn’t he?

Yun Jae was handsome; tall, had warm eyes, and confident touch. If he hadn’t left without a trace a month ago, you would’ve believed he was a gentleman.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

You can feel the plant in a case being the only thing between, preventing your chests collide with each other.

He doesn’t answer. He just feels your fingers shaking, holding the plant to dear life.

Why he just couldn’t say that he cared for you and never wanted to hurt you in the first place?

“Smells sweet…” he says and you frown, confused. Until the smell hits you and you realize both of you have been inhaling the toxins of the plants without any protection.

“Shit…” you drop the plant and the case shatters, the crystal cracking into million pieces. But not even the loud sound came to be important because the moment you raised your head, you had Yun Jae kissing you.

It took you by surprise at the beginning. And when you were about to pull backward, you felt it.

The warmth growing from your chest down through your ribs, until it has you feeling wet… down there.

Yun Jae gets closer, taking advantage of the proximity, and holds your waist.

You were melting, unable to control the sudden sensation of carnally needing him so bad.

The plant was an aphrodisiac?

“Yun Jae… the plant” you try to say, but he can’t stop kissing you. And you weren’t doing much to stop it.

Your ass was pressed against the table, you want to lay on it and spread your legs for him, but there was a little auto control in your left.

“Let me have you,” he says, almost whispering. You know he’s not thinking straight, but he means everything his mouth says until the effects pass.

The next three hours feel like five minutes. The abandoned dorms were untouched, and clean, and had bunks big enough to allow Yun Jae to fuck you over there.

On your back, on your side, on all fours, on top, you did everything. Until that moment you realized women were capable of so many orgasms.

Maybe both of you passed out when the effects of the plant subsided.

“Why you didn’t leave a note or anything?” you’d ask after waking up in his arms and feeling him holding your hand.

“I wanted to stay” he answers, sounding honest enough to believe it.

“Then why you didn’t?” Yun Jae chuckled.

“I had accepted the mission of Balhae a day ago, I thought I was never seeing you again” you smile, happy to finally understand him. “It was better to leave rather than stay and get to know you. With no attachments, this would be easier, but…” you nod, kissing his cheek.

“Can I get to know you now? Given that we’re straddled in the moon…” he chuckles again, kissing your temple this time.

“Yeah, I think that’d be fair”

You wonder how much time both of you have left before the crew starts asking where the hell the two of you are.

“And if we live enough to go back home, let me take you out…”

“Like a date?” he rolls his eyes but ends up nodding while smiling.

[In the present…]

The sky was always dusty and the heat was unbearable, but the government had implemented a way to protect the households from overheating. Your access to water was almost unlimited but you liked to save the most you could.

Despite it all, it wasn’t that bad. You were close to your family and your days were busy.

You had been in contact with Jian, she said Luna was showing progress and that there were chances of studying her DNA. You never asked for Yun Jae. But you were always thinking about him. While cooking, eating, cleaning the house, before bed, you were always thinking about him. It had been ten months since you saw him the last time

There were nights when you’d wake up from nightmares about feeling like you were drowning. Till that day, you didn’t know why you vomited water. You left the organization in Korea, so you had no updates about the lunar water other than what Jian said over the phone.

The nightmares about Balhae weren’t constantly haunting you, but when they did, that’s when you needed Yun Jae the most.

Cleaning up the fridge of your house, you look at the clock and you sigh, noticing it’s getting late. You had a report due at midnight. It was almost done, and it contained a hypothetical plan to search for a tree that could slowly bring back the normal water. You turn off the light in the kitchen and you stay looking at the living room.

There was your little joy.

In an improvised bassinet, your baby was sleeping.

Min Ho was two months old. Almost three…

His father was alive, but likely, he’ll never know.

Or so you thought because someone knocked at your door.

You open the door, not ready to be shocked.

You expect anyone; family, friends, your boss. Anyone but him…

“Han Yun Jae…” You swear blood stops running through your body as you see him standing at your door.

“Can I come in?” He asks and you move aside, eyeing him.

Both of you stare at each other, trying to describe who were they facing.

His hair was shorter, and he looked less tired, but you knew he was grieving his daughter’s death. The tattoo of him you hated so much was visible through the sweater he was wearing. He looked fine as always.

He sees there's a big change in you, but he can’t tell if it’s your shorter hair or the way your body looks different. He still finds you the most beautiful woman his eyes have seen in a very long time.

And he knows he can’t lose you again.

“I’m sorry…” he says, trying to remain strong and face you.

You are speechless. For some seconds you don’t know what to do. Then you walk towards him and you raise your hand to slap him. But you don’t, because you can’t.

“You leave me… every single time” his arms immediately wrap around you.

Yun Jae feels terrible. He can feel himself growing teary. But you immediately feel his warmth and you find a new reason to keep living.

You missed him so much.

“I’m so sorry” he adds.

“And you hurt me… every single time” he fights the urge to end up sobbing with you. Instead, Yun Jae focuses on holding you tightly.

“I thought I was saving you”

“Deciding if I wanted to risk more for you was my decision to make, Yun Jae” he nods, brushing your hair as you sobbed.

“Yeah, now I understand it…” he started kissing your hair and it soothes you more than it should.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, wiping your eyes.

“When I woke up, you were gone. I spent months asking Jian if she knew anything. She refused to tell me until I questioned if I should stop looking for you…” you stand stiff, wondering if your friend told him about a certain little human sleeping in the living room. “Jian said there was another reason to keep looking for you…”

You sigh, the worst that could happen was that he would leave. Forever this time…

You tell him to stay quiet and to follow you.

Yun Jae secretly looks around your place, noticing how neat and comfortable the place is.

You expect him to get out of the house as soon as he steps into the living room.

But he stands there quietly, acknowledging the baby sleeping on the floor.

The baby is dressed in a green onesie. His skin looks slightly dry but given the circumstance of the weather, he understands. He has matted dark brown hair, almost black. And he doesn’t have to question the obvious, the baby doesn’t have your eyes nor your nose.

It’s a boy…

That was the reason Jian was talking about.

He kneels to brush the back of his hand with the chubby cheek of the baby. Yun Jae instantly feels his eyes getting wet.

“His name is Min Ho, he’s two months old,” you say, kneeling beside the father of the kid. “And of course, it’s your son…”

Yun Jae silently asks if he can carry him and you nod.

He couldn’t process all the emotions he was feeling at that moment. All he knew was that looking at Min Ho caused him joy and pain at the same time. He would always love and miss his daughter. But holding a newborn when he thought he would never see that coming again, was pure happiness.

“Are you leaving again?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Yun Jae locks eyes with you, he savors the sight of your face and knows he wants to see it every morning and every night.

“Never…” he leans and you softly bump your forehead with his, silently forgiving and allowing yourself to stop grieving.

…

The smell of food fills the room. You served two plates and returned to sit at the dining table. There wasn’t enough food but it was okay for you and Yun Jae.

Min Ho had attached to him well. Both of you bathed the baby and felt so odd and domestic at the same time. He told you everything about him, from before and after Balhae.

There’s a secret agreement to stay together. You could easily find a job for him. He could rest a little and take care of your baby. Whatever he wanted to do, you would be okay with it. And he would rely on his promise. Because he never wanted to leave you again.

“I’m still surprised that he’s healthy…” you stop typing in your laptop to eye Yun Jae.

He looked so natural burping the baby. Then you remember he wasn’t new at parenthood. And you hoped Min Ho wasn’t being a painful reminder of it.

“He was premature. But I’m using all of the resources for him. My family has also sacrificed a little bit of theirs for Min Ho”

“I must thank them…” you smile, grabbing his free hand.

“There’ll be time for it…” he nods and you return to typing.

“Wait… So got pregnant on the moon?” Both of you start chuckling.

“Yes, give me my Record Guinness”

The moment of cackling is interrupted by Min Ho cooing.

“He wants to participate in the conversation too,” you say.

Yun Jae looks down at his son. He looks mostly like him, but he has your lips and skin.

Then he looks back at you and sees you invested in writing something.

“What are you doing?” He asks, standing to stand beside you.

“It’s a report, let me submit it…”

Some minutes of silence between you two, just the coos of Min Ho, and then you finally close your laptop.

“So, we’ve found a tree in South America…” Yun Jae widely opened his eyes, looking expectantly at you. “I’m waiting for researchers to bring some evidence”

“We need the evidence to survive the trip back, I’m leading the experiment,” you say, looking away at your sleeping daughter. “If we succeed, we’ll be able to produce water”

Yun Jae hugs you, his big hand caressing your head in his chest, the other holding Min Ho.

“I’m so proud of you” You smile, accepting the compliment and feeling like you are slowly freeing your love for him.

…

It’s at night when you finally accept you have been in love with Han Yun Jae before you could even accept it.

You lay naked in bed, with him on top of you, kissing you softly and possessively.

“I missed you so much”

“I missed you too” he kisses your forehead and proceeds to rub your folds with his length before pushing in.

You close your eyes, savoring the feeling after ten long months.

Yun Jae is fascinated by touching the body of the woman who gave him a child amidst chaos and horror. He can see that you went through changes, the color and size of your breasts, the softness in your stomach, the stretch marks in your inner thighs. He finds beauty everywhere. And at the same time, it drives him crazy.

“Please, harder…” you beg, barely able to talk because he feels too good. The way he slides in and out, stretching you each time no matter how wet you were. You have to bite your tongue to not wake up little Min Ho.

“You want it harder, baby?” You nod and he makes your wishes come true.

“I love you…” he doesn’t stop, he leans down and kisses you before answering you.

“I love you too”

It had been worth the wait.

…

Yun Jae hears you and Min Ho laughing. He was turning two years old and you wanted to celebrate his birthday with your family.

Yun Jae thanked them as he promised.

He was placing the cake you had ordered in the fridge and upon hearing the constant yells and laughter, he went out to see what was happening in the backyard.

He smiled at the sight.

It was Min Ho’s first time using a pool.

Rain was coming back, and woods and jungles were growing green again. Irrigation systems started being used again and the world was healing.

Yun Jae thought both of you would die on the same earth without water, but probably allowing your baby to grow up with hopes of having it again.

To his surprise, he was celebrating his son’s second birthday and soon he would have to buy a first anniversary wedding gift.

“Yun Jae, come to see this!” He hears you calling him and he gets closer, taking a seat in the towel you placed on the floor for him.

He watches Min Ho splashing water everywhere and he has to hug you because the moment felt like it was dream.

But it was real.

————

I’m ignorant, someone pls tell me the correct way of writing Korean names. For example is it…

a. Han Yun Jae

b. Han Yun jae

c. Han Yun-Jae

d. Han Yun-jae

e. Han yunjae

[deeisace]

Alright. Train home.

I've run out of tags so I best shut up before I cry (again)

[irxne]

on the second weekend of january an aunt passes away on the third week of january an uncle passes away you'd never guess what happened on the last weekend of the month... a cousin passes away

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

trying to plan my grandma's funeral and it is so hard. for emotional reasons but also because she didn't like music or books and she wasn't religious so we have no idea what to read/play at the service 😭 like at this point it's going to be a eulogy and then we all just go home

[umbrellajam]

Tim Drake Reading List - before his Robin (1993) solo

I'm sure this has been done many times before, but I'd been meaning for a while now to put together my own reading list for Tim prior to his 1993 solo, as I so often see that recommended as the starting point for him, but. Well. There's a lot of key material for Tim before that and Robin 1993 also starts very weirdly in medias res smack dab in the middle of the Knightfall event, which throws people off all the time, lol.

So anyway, a list! Not 100% comprehensive, but hopefully a helpful overview to somebody, somewhere :)

PRE-TIM CONTEXT

A Death in the Family (Batman #426-429) – Jason is murdered by the Joker. We all know this one, hopefully.

New Titans #55 – Dick finds out about Jason’s death, and comes to Gotham aiming to both console and confront Bruce about it. They have a fight; Bruce backhands Dick and tells him to leave.

Batman: Year Three (Batman #436-439) – despite the above, Dick returns to Gotham soon afterward due to Tony Zucco’s parole hearings, and we see him continue to worry and reach out to Bruce as the man fails miserably at dealing with Jason’s death; we also have the first appearance of Tim in the flashback to Dick’s origin at the circus.

INTRO AND PRE-ROBIN ARCS

A Lonely Place of Dying (alternating Batman #440-442 and New Titans #60-61) – Tim’s proper intro arc, tracking Dick down at the circus to try and convince him to become Robin again, as Batman continues to go off the rails and “Batman needs Robin”. He ultimately gets accepted for a trial/training period before he can become Robin.

Batman #443-445 – cute training-period issues where Bruce awkwardly starts to teach Tim and Tim is an eager beaver.

New Titans #65 – Tim shows up on an exasperated Dick’s doorstep in New York, and we get a really great Dick & Tim training issue.

The Penguin Affair (Batman #448, Detective Comics #615, Batman #449) – a fun early Bruce & Tim arc that includes the introduction of Harold Allnut as the Bat team's mute engineering genius, Bruce angsting and second-guessing himself about having a new Robin but still wanting to encourage Tim (“Remember to thank him later. The boy needs reassurance.”) and also civilian!Tim taking part in the operation with adorable pre-Robin code names (“Little bat to big bat. Target in cross-hairs.”)

Batman #450, Detective Comics #617, Batman #451 – a short arc about the Joker resurfacing for the first time since being presumed dead at the end of A Death in the Family. Tim appears minimally because Bruce panics and sends him out of the country immediately (along with his entire school class lol), but there’s lots of angst and introspection from Bruce on Jason's death and Robin in general.

Rite of Passage (Detective Comics #618-621) – includes Tim’s parents being kidnapped, his mother’s death, and his father ending up paralyzed and in a coma.

EARLY ROBIN ERA

Identity Crisis (Batman #455-457) – includes Tim’s devastation and struggle in the wake of what happened to his parents, wrestling with the legacy and meaning of Batman & Robin in a way he hadn’t understood before, and whether he’s prepared for it. Also Janet Drake’s funeral, and ultimately Tim’s official graduation to the Robin mantle.

Robin I: A Hero Reborn #1-5 – Tim’s first solo mini-series as Robin; his first of many trips to Paris as part of his training, where he first encounters Lady Shiva and King Snake. This is also where Tim picks up his iconic bo staff for the first time, with training from Shiva.

Batman #465-469 – Tim’s first actual patrols with Bruce, and the return of King Snake.

Detective Comics #635-637 – the “Bruce & Tim have to fight video games come to life” arc, lol. I would call these fun but optional.

Robin II: The Joker’s Wild! #1-4 – Tim’s second solo mini; the Joker returns to Gotham while Bruce is out of the country and unreachable, and Tim as a barely fledged Robin has to thwart the clown’s plans with only Alfred to aid him.

“To the Father I Never Knew…” (Batman #480) – An important issue on Tim’s relationship with his father, especially now that he’s woken up from his coma and is suddenly interested in Tim, when he barely had been before. Lots of Tim angst and struggle, framed through a bitter letter he’s writing to his dad. Alfred also slyly nudges Tim to look into the estate next door to Wayne Manor, when he’s trying to figure out how or even if he’ll be able to continue as Robin now that his Dad is awake.

Electric City (Detective Comics #644-646) – includes Batman’s heart getting stopped due to electrocution, and Tim viciously threatening the villain to get him to defibrillate Bruce back to life. (“You’re going to shock Batman’s heart back online or I’m going to tear you apart.”)

Batman #481 – the notable bit here is Tim and Jack check out the estate next door to Wayne Manor and basically decide to take it.

Detective Comics #647-649 – the introduction of Stephanie Brown as Spoiler, including her thwarting/attempting to off her dad and also the infamous scene where she clobbers Robin in the face with a brick, lol.

Robin Annual #1 – Tim’s first team-up with Lonnie Machin/Anarky.

PRELUDE TO KNIGHTFALL

Batman #486 – Tim driving Jack to his medical appointments with Dr. Shondra Kinsolving, and worrying with Alfred over Bruce’s growing self-destructiveness in the prelude to Knightfall.

Robin III: Cry of the Huntress #1-6 – Tim’s third solo mini, and his first team-up with Helena Bertinelli as the Huntress. Also, Tim’s first meeting with Ariana Dzerchenko, who will be his first girlfriend, and friction/fights between Jack and Tim as Tim skips out on school and tries to cover up his Robin work. Includes a blow-up fight over Jack threatening to send Tim back to boarding school for his misbehavior. ("Who is the son you know, Dad? You don't know me. You never bothered. You shipped me from one boarding school to another and nobody paid any attention as long as my grades stayed high. You and mom were too involved running around the world.")

Batman #488-490 – the Bats start working with Jean-Paul Valley/Azrael, including Robin recruiting him to fill in temporarily as Batman when Bruce is ill. Bane’s plans to exhaust and break the Bat ramp up in the lead-in to Knightfall.

Showcase ‘93 #2-6 – Tim’s first time teaming up with Catwoman as they take on the crimelord Bracuda. This storyline will later cross over with one of Dick’s in the Bracuda & Chulo arc for Dick & Tim's first real team-up.

KNIGHTFALL

I won’t go over this whole period in detail as it’s quite a long storyline (link to the fandom wiki for all the info and issues), but some highlights for Tim are:

Detective Comics #660 – Tim tracks Bane down to his hideout but then gets captured and caught in the middle of a fight between Bane and Croc in the sewers.

Batman #494 – Tim drags himself home and presses Bruce to accept help in the wake of the mass Arkham break-out organized by Bane.

Detective Comics #661-662 – Batman sidelining Robin again while fighting Firefly and Tim again repeatedly badgering Bruce to accept help; Tim later takes down Firefly largely alone.

Batman #497-498 – Bane breaks Batman’s back; Bruce appoints JPV to succeed him as Batman despite Tim asking about Dick. JPV as AzBats goes increasingly off the rails during his time as Batman.

Batman #500 – Tim refuses to be party to the new Batman’s brutal methods, but is blown off by an increasingly unstable JPV. Dick finally shows up in the storyline while Tim is brooding outside the Manor. Dick is angry that he had to hear about Bruce’s devastating injury secondhand and that Bruce chose someone else to take up the mantle of Batman.

The Flash #81-83 – optional context, but this is Dick’s side of the build-up to the Bracuda & Chulo crossover with Tim. Dick and Kory visit Wally after their disastrous interrupted wedding (which Tim attended) and Dick’s ouster as leader of the Titans in New Titans #100-101. Dick ends up embroiled in an investigation of the criminal Chulo.

Showcase ‘93 #11-12 – Dick and Tim’s first proper team-up as Nightwing and Robin! Extremely fun and character revealing interactions as they navigate working together while barely knowing each other. My notes on these quote practically everything in both issues – they're fantastic.

Detective Comics #667-668 – Tim finds out that JPV has walled off the secret tunnel from Drake Manor to the Batcave. He also gets his driver’s license early (at 14) as a special dispensation due to his father’s handicap. This issue leads directly into the first issue of Tim’s solo, ending as he's caught sneaking back into the Cave. AzBats grabs and lifts Robin by his neck, choking him, which is how Robin (1993) #1 opens.

Finally, alongside the early issues of Tim’s solo, be sure not to miss the full Batman: Prodigal arc (https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Batman:_Prodigal), which covers Dick’s first stint wearing the Cowl of the Bat with Tim as his Robin. This is the period where they first really spent time together and bonded, and includes Robin (1993) #11-13. The whole thing is a banger, and essential reading.

[starlightkun]

➺ word count: 9.9k ➺ genre: exes to lovers, second chance romance, angst with a happy ending :), some hurt/comfort, fluff, ‘we broke up but somehow keep ending up as each other’s plus-ones’ trope (is that a trope? idk) ➺ warnings: mentions of death/depictions of grief, family and interpersonal conflict ➺ author’s note: i am a 5-star general in the idgaf war on the side of gaf 🫡

“This is us now, remember? Just weddings and funerals.”

“If you need anything, call me.”

That’s what Sungchan had said, two months ago, when the two of you ended things on fairly amicable terms.

“Y/N?” It hurt to hear his voice saying your name again. With such surprise, you’d obviously woken him up at this hour on a Saturday.

“Sungchan, hey,” you winced at the awkward crack in your voice. “Did I wake you up? Sorry…”

“No, it’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, uhm, I have a-a favor to ask…”

He was silent, letting you go ahead and make your request.

“Are you busy today?” You balled your hand into a fist, digging your fingernails into your palm. “My cousin’s wedding is today and my plus-one bailed on me last minute. It’s fine if you’re busy—Actually never mind, you’re probably busy and this weird—”

“I can do it.” He cleared his throat away from the speaker, and you could hear his sheets shifting around as he sat up. “What time should I pick you up?”

“Thank you,” you said again, sitting down ahead of the ceremony.

Sungchan took the seat beside you, adjusting his suit jacket. “I was supposed to be your plus-one for this anyway, wasn’t I?”

You nodded.

He flashed you a smile. “No need to thank me then. At least not for a tenth time.”

You chuckled lightly, running your hands over the material over your knees. “Sorry. I’m still freaked from my friend canceling on me last-minute, I guess.”

“Oh, I thought you were feeling awkward because you brought me.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Well, that too, I guess.”

“So who were you bringing? That canceled?”

“Chaeyeon.”

He let out a laugh at that. “Well of course she flaked.”

“I know. She volunteered after we… After she heard I wouldn’t be bringing you anymore,” you admitted. “It’s hard telling her no.”

Music started playing then, and a hush fell over the crowd.

At the reception, you were sat at a table with some older aunties and uncles that you hadn’t seen since you were little.

“Oh, this must be Sungchan!” One of the aunties gasped in delight as soon as you introduced yourself, before you could even begin introducing Sungchan. At your surely startled look, she explained, “Your mom posts pictures all the time.”

“Right. Of course,” you nodded, struggling to think of something to say.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Sungchan greeted them all politely.

“Even taller in person,” One auntie giggled to another.

“And more handsome!” The other said back.

“Y/N, you’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you,” one of the uncles saved you. “What do you do now?”

“Oh, I’m getting my master’s in—” You cut yourself off upon spotting the bride and groom making their way to your table to greet everyone. You weren’t exceptionally close with this cousin, but the wedding was close enough in distance that you felt obligated to go, especially because your mother was out of town. One of you had to make an appearance.

She leant down to kiss all the older relatives’ cheeks first, then you got up to give her and her husband hugs and your congrats.

“Thank you for coming, Y/N,” she was beaming as she looked expectantly at Sungchan behind you.

“Uhm, Sooyoung, this is Sungchan,” you introduced them quietly.

“Congratulations,” he bowed to them.

“Of course!” Sooyoung hugged him as well. “You know, the older cousins had bets, we all thought it’d be you guys next! I was so worried when Y/N hadn’t posted you in a while. But I guess I was worried for nothing.”

She and her husband laughed before taking off for the next table of guests. As chatter discussing when you and Sungchan would be getting married erupted at your own table, you pretended you couldn’t hear it as you latched onto his forearm and announced loudly, “I’m thirsty, let’s get some drinks!”

Sungchan allowed himself to be yanked off into the crowd, to the drinks table on the other side of the venue. You skin was still on fire when you arrived, refusing to look at him as you instead carefully scoured the drinks options.

“Here.” He handed you a glass of your favorite drink.

“Thanks,” you huffed, gulping down half of it in one go.

The lucky couple were on the dance floor now for their first dance, and you gnawed on your bottom lip as you watched them. God, why the hell did you even bring Sungchan? So you didn’t look like a lonely loser? Was this really much better?

“Do you want to dance?” He nudged your arm, nodding to where others had joined the couple on the dance floor. An upbeat song was playing, and plenty of fun dancing was happening.

Anything to distract yourself. “Sure.”

Sungchan put your glasses back down before offering you a hand. Against your better judgment, you placed your hand atop his and let him guide you out onto the edge of the dance floor. There, he let go of your hand again and kept a polite distance between the two of you as he started getting into some rather silly dance moves. You couldn’t fight the smile on your face as you watched him flail his gangly limbs around for what you knew was your benefit.

“I forgot how bad of a dancer you are, Sungchan,” you covered your mouth as you laughed.

“Only when I’m trying to make you laugh,” he grinned back, pulling your hand down from your face.

You kept your hands down as you matched his moves, freely giggling this time. When the song changed to a slower one, you looked between him and your table uncertainly, trying to gauge if he wanted to exit the dance floor.

Sungchan looked down at you and shrugged, once again offering you a hand. And once again, against your better judgment, you placed yours atop it and let him pull you closer. You put your other hand on his shoulder as his rested on your waist. This close, you could smell his familiar expensive cologne that he only brought out for fancy events—the last time you’d smelled it was at your anniversary dinner six months ago. His warm breaths washed over your ear, and you couldn’t see much else other than his nice tie that you knew very well was his only one, which matched perfectly with your nice outfit that you were wearing (also your only one).

“I haven’t told my family either,” he murmured, not breaking the slow pace he was swaying the two of you at.

You looked up at him, feeling guilty tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He knew, of course he knew. He was smiling bittersweetly down at you.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I still haven’t told my family that we broke up yet.”

“Sorry,” you apologized hoarsely, even though he already said it was okay.

“Me too.”

You tentatively leaned your head on his chest. He didn’t stop you or tense up. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah, you too.”

That’s what you’d said back, when you’d broken up.

You hadn’t seen Sungchan since your cousin’s wedding sixteen days ago, and yes, you were absolutely counting the days. And yet it still surprised you to see his caller ID lighting up your phone screen. It didn’t surprise you so much the speed with which you picked up his call.

“Sungchan?”

There was heavy breathing on the other end, punctuated by a thin, quiet whine.

“Sungchan?!” You repeated, jumping to your feet off your couch. “Are you okay?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry…” He sniffled, and you could already imagine his tear-stained face.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you reassured him gently. “What’s going on?”

“Are you busy right now?” He asked through a sob. “I’m sorry, my grandmother’s funeral is today and—”

“I’ll be over in ten.”

“Thank you,” Sungchan mumbled into your shoulder as you hugged each other just past his front door.

“I’m sorry, Sungchan,” you whispered, squeezing him as tight as you could. “I’m so sorry.”

Sungchan had been really close to his grandmother, she was practically a third parent to him growing up. He shook in your arms now, and you continued to hold him close.

“We need to leave soon, or we’re going to be late,” he declared, finally pulling back. “Oh, God, your shirt. I’m sorry.”

You looked down at your black blouse, where there was a large pooling of tears and presumably snot as well. You waved his concerns away. “It’s okay. You get ready, I’ll take care of it.”

As Sungchan got dressed in his room, you took a damp washcloth to your top in the kitchen, cleaning it off as best you could. It was black, it’s not like you could really see much in the first place. You were waiting for him in the living room when he came back out mostly dressed, sheepishly holding out his singular nice tie to you.

“Can you help me?” He requested. “My fingers are shaking too much.”

“Of course.” You took it and he sat down on the arm of the couch. Standing in front of him, you hooked the material around the back of his neck, then looped it easily, your own fingers moving with muscle memory. Sungchan knew how to tie a tie, but you had insisted he show you how to tie one. Whenever you two went out to events together that necessitated him wearing one, you would help him put it on, then he’d help you with your necklace in return. Really, it was just an excuse to exchange kisses in between, which you refrained from doing this time.

“You should know…” Sungchan’s head was down, watching you adjust his tie. “I still haven’t told them. I’m sorry.”

You gave the tie a pat to signal that you were finished, and smiled softly at him. “It’s fine. You’ve got other things to worry about today.”

“Oh, Sungchan, Y/N,” Sungchan’s mother found you as soon as you had stepped foot in her house for the wake, kissing her son’s cheek before enveloping you in her arms.

“Hi, Mrs. Jung,” you hugged her back. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes were misty when you pulled back. She kept you close, though, fixing a stray piece of hair for you. “Sungchan said you weren’t going to be able to make it.”

“She got someone to cover for her,” Sungchan explained for you.

Mrs. Jung smiled and nodded. “Thank you, sweetheart. My mom adored you.”

“She was a wonderful woman,” you agreed fondly.

“Here, Y/N, let’s get something to drink,” Sungchan suggested, gently ushering you away from his mom with a hand on the small of your back.

You gave her hand one last squeeze before letting him guide you over to the kitchen. It was devoid of other mourners, and you silently watched him take down two glasses from the cabinet and fill them up with water.

“Do you want to go outside?” You asked as he handed you your water.

He just nodded, and you took his free hand to pull him over towards the door that you knew led to the backyard. The two of you were the only ones out here, which made sense, as it was the middle of winter, but you didn’t complain as the cold air nipped at any bare skin.

“I don’t get it,” he stated, staring out at the dry, brown grass. His words came out as white puffs in the crisp air.

“Get what?” You replied quietly.

“What I’m even supposed to be doing right now. Here,” he explained, and you watched his throat bob up and down as he swallowed thickly. “I’m sick of crying. I at least don’t want to cry for four straight hours in front of a bunch of people.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t I want to cry for four straight hours in front of a bunch of people?” He repeated incredulously, staring at you this time.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “She’s your grandmother, you’re grieving. If that’s how you feel, like you need to cry for four straight hours… Then you should.”

He shook his head, taking a sip of his water despite the ice cubes in it. “Not here. I’ll cry for four hours later.”

“Okay.”

“Talk to me about something. Anything,” he prompted you, shuffling closer until you were shoulder-to-shoulder.

You looked away from his red eyes, telling yourself that they were watering from the cold. “Uhm, I watched this documentary about penguins the other day.”

“Penguins?”

“I fell asleep halfway through, though…”

Sungchan laughed loudly at that, keeling forward as he wiped at the tears that finally spilled over. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you watched him, and you didn’t even try to defend yourself. Once he had righted himself a little bit, still teary-eyed and grinning broadly, he nudged you with his elbow, “Well tell me what you remember from before you fell asleep.”

“Alright, alright…”

“Thank you again, Y/N,” Sungchan sighed as the two of you approached his front door that evening. “You’re… I owe you one.”

“Just repaying the favor.”

“Well…” He looked between you and his front door awkwardly. “Uhm, goodnight, I guess.”

“Are you actually going to cry for four hours now?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe three?”

You took a deep breath. “I know you didn’t want to cry in front of all those people, and I know we’re… but I can stay, if you want. Or not, if you need to be alone.”

“Can you?” He smiled weakly, his voice cracking. “I felt like I took up enough of your time today.”

“No, of course I can, Sungchan,” you reassured him.

He unlocked the front door and you followed him inside. His apartment hadn’t changed much, except in one major way—all the pictures of you two were missing. They hadn’t been replaced, you noted, the places they used to sit now starkly empty. You didn’t comment on that as the two of you silently made your way towards his room.

Sungchan handed you some clothing, and you took them into the bathroom to change out of your nice funeral outfit. Leaving your clothes folded on the bathroom counter, you waited for Sungchan to give you the okay that he was ready for you to emerge.

He was already sitting up against his headboard when you entered, and you sat down on the empty side of the bed, leaving some space between you two.

“I feel like shit,” he said bluntly, fingers messing with the blanket over his lap. “I wish I was at the part where I felt nothing.”

“I get that,” you agreed softly.

“I-I was supposed to—” He was cut off by a sniffle, and wiped at his cheeks as tears began streaming down. “I was supposed to see her. But I was too busy. And two days later she was gone.”

“Sungchan, you couldn’t have known.” You offered a hand out towards him in the space between you.

“Can I—”

“Yeah, whatever you need.”

He turned onto his side and shuffled around and down until he was curled up on top of your lap, head pressed into your middle. You pulled the blanket back over him, rubbing his back as more and more tears surfaced.

“I can’t believe she’s gone…” he blubbered into the oversized crewneck you were wearing. “I can’t even—can’t comprehend that I’ll never hug her again.”

“I know, Channie,” you murmured, feeling your own eyes water sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

The word had slipped out without you even thinking, and you had a split-second of panic as you kept the same rhythm of rubbing his back, hoping he wouldn’t notice. If he did, he didn’t say anything, simply nestling further into you.

“It hurts, Y/N,” he whimpered. “Everything hurts. My chest, my heart, my head from crying so fucking much.”

“Do you want me to grab you an ibuprofen for your head?”

“No, stay with me.”

“Okay, Channie.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sungchan eventually cried himself to sleep like that, and you didn’t have it in you to try to worm your way out while he was passed out. So you fell asleep there too, cradling his head close to you and with the familiar, comforting pressure of him atop you.

You were awoken by sunlight across your lids, and tried to turn over away from the windows, stopped by the immovable weight on you. You gave up with a grunt, throwing an arm over your face instead.

“Shit, sorry…” Sungchan mumbled, rolling off of you and back to the other side of the bed. “Didn’t mean to trap you here.”

You peered at him from under your arm with one eye, offering him a sleepy smile. “It’s fine. How are you feeling?”

“Head hurts. Sad. Whatever, you know. But a lot better than if you hadn’t stayed. Thank you.”

“Good, good.” You sat up and yawned. “I’ll get you something for your head.”

“Hey, I am sorry if this was weird for you…”

You gave him as casual of a shrug as you could, hoping it came across as cool and nonchalant. “We did this before we dated too, remember? Sleepovers?”

“Yeah, and I though my heart was going to give out every time,” he laughed, rubbing his face.

You chuckled, swinging your feet over the edge of the bed. “Me too.”

After breakfast, you changed back into your clothes from the wake and stopped at the front door to say goodbye to Sungchan.

“Keep in touch, okay?” You requested, getting on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. “At least let me know you’re alive?”

He was quiet as you let go and dropped back down to flat feet, mouth opening and closing as he seemed to be putting his words together.

“Y/N—” Sungchan’s voice was hoarse as his hand cupped your cheek. He paused, puffy eyes searching your face. You froze, too swept away at being this close to him again, letting him tilt your chin up, leaning in as he did. As soon as his lips hesitantly ghosted over yours, your fingers instinctively wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him down to fully seal your mouths together. His lips moved against yours so gingerly, so sweetly, you felt like you might melt.

When you finally pulled back for air, a thin string of saliva connected you two for a moment before it split. You immediately ducked your head and sighed, “Bad idea, God, Sungchan, I’m sorry.”

You weren’t even sure if you were apologizing for stopping, or letting it happen in the first place, or both.

“But you—”

“You’re not in a good place right now,” you explained ruefully, stepping back fully. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Oh.” He looked down at his feet dejectedly. “No, Y/N, don’t feel bad. You’re right, I’m sorry for doing that to you—”

“No, it’s fine, Sungchan, really. I just don’t think it’s a good time—”

“I get it. Uhm, thanks.”

“I meant it though, keep in touch. I don’t want to have to find out from Shotaro if you’re okay.”

He nodded and smiled, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. And hey, next wedding or funeral you need a plus-one for, let me know.”

“Maybe that’s us now. Weddings and funerals,” you chuckled.

“Ha, yeah.”

Giving his forearm one last squeeze, you opened the front door. “See you at the next one, Sungchan.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“Pleasepleaseplease pick up…” You muttered to your ceiling as you paced around your living room, listening to the phone ring way too many times for comfort. It went to voicemail, and you swore as it beeped through for you to leave a message. “Fuck—Uh, hey, Sungchan. If you’re listening to this within like five minutes of me calling, please call me back. Long story short, it’s a funeral. Uhm, let me know if you can come. Thanks.”

You hung up and debated immediately calling him again, just in case. Before you could click the call button, though, your screen was overtaken with an incoming call from him. You let out a breath of relief, immediately picking up.

“Oh, Sungchan, thank God,” you groaned.

“Y/N, hey, are you alright?” His voice was gentle but obviously out of breath.

“Yeah, sorry if my voicemail was freaky. I found out last-minute that my mom is making me go to the funeral for her great-uncle twice removed or something that I’ve never met. I totally get if you don’t want to come, but—”

“I’ll come. I know how they are,” he assured you. “I can be at your place in five.”

“Oh, you are a lifesaver, I love you, thank you!” You gushed, hanging up the phone.

“You’re going to be just fine, Y/N,” Sungchan reassured you, squeezing your shoulder before dropping his hand back down to the small of your back as you approached the house that your mom had given you the address to.

“I know,” you breathed out, forcing a smile as you looked up at him. “Because I’ve got you here.”

You didn’t even know whose house this was, but the front door was unlocked, and many cars were parked along the streetfront. People donned in black were milling around inside, a constant, hushed din throughout the house as soon as you entered. You looked around for your mom, needing to let her know that you’d arrived.

“Y/N!” A booming voice called out your name as you turned from the foyer into the sitting room, and you tried not to wince visually.

Spinning around to greet the middle-aged man who had said your name, you gave him a canned smile and as fleeting of a hug as you could as he already had his arms out for one. “Hi, Uncle.”

“Have you gotten even bigger since the last time I saw you?” He laughed, pinching your cheek.

You turned your head away from him uncomfortably. “That was when I was middle school, I think. I have gotten taller, yes.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Jung Sungchan, I don’t think we’ve met, sir,” Sungchan firmly put himself between you and the uncle, offering his hand out.

The older man shook it, looking Sungchan up and down with an appraising eye. “No, I don’t believe we have. I’m Y/N’s mother’s cousin. You’re…?”

“Y/N’s boyfriend,” he confirmed authoritatively.

“Ah, really?” The uncle’s eyes practically sparkled. He looked around, waving someone over. “Jooeun! Come, meet Y/N’s boyfriend!”

A woman maybe five or so years older than you joined him, draping herself over his arm, her sharp gaze on where you held onto the crook of Sungchan’s elbow. The uncle continued introductions, “Jooie, dear, this is little Y/N’s boyfriend, uh, something Jungchan—”

“Jung Sungchan,” he swiftly corrected him, flashing a polite smile to the woman as well.

Jooeun wasn’t familiar to you whatsoever, she was definitely younger than you remember the uncle’s wife being when you last saw him over a decade ago now. New wife, you surmised.

“Wow…” She nodded, not saying anything else after trailing off.

“There you are, Y/N!” The familiar voice of your mother appeared at your side, obviously flustered as she hugged you just to lean in to say through gritted teeth, “You are late, young lady.”

“Hi, Mom,” you forced a smile in return, ending the disquieting hug as soon as possible.

“Oh, Sungchan!” She threw her arms around him next, her joy genuine this time.

“Hi, Ms. Y/L/N,” he robotically leaned down to hug her back. “I apologize for our tardiness, that was entirely my fault. I was late picking Y/N up and—”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she waved off his apology, patting his cheek with her hand that wasn’t holding a glass of wine. “The man’s dead, he’s not going anywhere.”

Sungchan smoothly removed himself from her grasp and wrapped his arm around you again. “Of course. Thank you. And I’m sorry for your loss.”

“So sweet, as always,” she laughed fondly. Turning to the other relatives, she explained, “Sungchan is one of the few things my daughter’s done right, I swear. I don’t know why he sticks around, honestly!”

“Excuse me—ladies’ room,” you mumbled under the laughter that had erupted from the entire circle (save for Sungchan), jerking yourself out of his warm grasp and into the crowd. You could feel bile rising in your throat as you searched blindly for a bathroom.

Slamming the bathroom door shut behind you in a far corner of the house, you tilted your head back as you took deep breaths, trying to keep your tears at bay. You didn’t even know the guy who died, crying at his wake would be fucking weird. Not to mention your mom would just make another snide comment about you being sensitive as always if she saw you like this. The more you thought about it, the harder it was to hold them back.

Once you’d somewhat composed yourself again, taking a tissue to dab at the corner of your eyes, you fanned your face, convincing yourself that your eyes weren’t that red, and unlocked the door. The house was eerily quiet, however, quieter than when you’d entered the bathroom, even accounting for the isolated corner that you were in. Mourners eyed you rather obviously as you walked by, whispering among themselves. Your skin prickled uncomfortably under their gazes.

Before you arrived at the front room that you’d left everyone else at, Sungchan found you, his head easy to spot over the crowd. He caught your elbow in a gentle grasp, ushering you in the direction you had just come from.

“Let’s step outside for a second,” he murmured to you, pushing the back door open.

The chill of winter was still present in the air as snowflakes had begun falling while you were inside. He immediately slipped his suit jacket off, draping it over your shoulders.

“What’s going on?” You asked him after the door had closed behind the two of you, watching as he started pacing in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he sighed. “She’s always like that, isn’t she?”

“I’m sorry, she’s usually better in front of people, especially you; she just had too much to drink I think—”

“No, God, why are you apologizing for her being awful to you?” He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “I’m sorry, I should’ve seen that sooner. It shouldn’t have had to happen right in front of my face for me to know. God, it was always right there, if I had just opened my stupid fucking eyes. I am so sorry.”

You dug your teeth out of your bottom lip, inhaling shakily. “I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to apologize for her. She should be apologizing to you. They all should.”

“No, I’m apologizing for me. I… didn’t tell the whole truth when I broke up with you. I did need space, but I didn’t tell you why.” Your tears were freezing cold as they fell down your cheeks, but you didn’t bother wiping them. Your words finally paused Sungchan’s angry pacing, and he slowed to a stop to listen to you. “Imagine the best part of you being somebody else… I didn’t want my family’s expectations to make me hate you. I needed to… figure out how I felt about myself. But after, I couldn’t even tell them that we broke up. Because I-I didn’t want to disappoint them again, make them hate me even more for taking away the only part of me they liked: you.”

“Oh, Y/N…” He breathed out, face contorting in pain. “I’m sorry, for whatever I did that made you feel like you couldn’t tell me this before.”

“You were just trying to impress your girlfriend’s family and diffuse the tension, it’s understandable,” you sniffed, dabbing at your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater.

“No, I should’ve been defending you, on your side one hundred percent. I was your boyfriend, not theirs.”

“Can—” You pulled the suit jacket tighter around you as a gust of wind blew in snowflakes under the awning you were standing beneath. “I think I’d like to go home.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Sungchan nodded in the direction of the side gate for the two of you to make a stealthy exit.

The back door opened then, and you didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

“Y/N! There you are!” Your mother was accompanied by the heating from inside the house continuously seeping out as she stood in the open doorway. “Brr! It’s cold. Get back in here and give Sungchan his coat back, sweetie, the poor dear has got to be freezing to death!”

“I gave it to her, and she’s keeping it,” Sungchan replied firmly, pointedly flipping up the collar of the jacket to protect your neck against the wind. “Thank the host for us, we’re leaving now.”

“Now?! But you just—”

“Now. Goodbye.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, ushering you away from her and towards the gate again.

“Y/N, I can’t believe you’re so ungrateful that you’re making Sungchan—” She had descended the short step from the house to the porch to grab your arm and try to halt your leaving.

Sungchan took her hand and removed it from your wrist, stepping in front of you and fully concealing you from her. “Apparently I wasn’t clear enough earlier. You’re the ungrateful one. You have a daughter who is kind enough to put up with your bullshit—Constantly dragging her out to places last minute and humiliating her in front of people to make yourself feel better. You should be ashamed to call yourself a parent. Honestly, I can’t believe that someone so kind, so incredibly down-to-Earth and considerate of others was raised by someone as cruel as you. So yes, we will be going, and I don’t want you to say another word to her while we do.”

He once again wrapped his arm around you, hurrying through the freshly fallen snow. Shoving the gate open, he continued marching you on down the street away from that house until the two of you were able to finally hail a taxi. Sungchan opened the door and guided you in first, and then firmly shut it behind you, giving your apartment address to the driver. He brushed the snowflakes from your hair and shoulders with rough but attentive hands, and you sat patiently as he did so. His entire face was red, and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold or not, as a vein bulged out on his forehead that usually wasn’t there.

“Thank you, Sungchan,” you muttered, scooting over until your sides were pressed together, then took one of his hands, lacing your fingers with his.

He squeezed your hand tightly, patting the back of it with his other hand. “I’ll do it again. As many times as you want me to, as many times as I have to.”

At your front door, Sungchan was still holding your hand as you approached with your key in your other hand. You turned to him hopefully, “Do you want to stay for dinner? We can watch a movie or something…”

“Of course. Whatever you want, Y/N,” he agreed.

Your apartment of course didn’t have pictures of you and Sungchan, you had moved in after the two of you broke up. He’d only caught glimpses of the inside the couple times he’d picked you up for your cousin’s wedding and the funeral today since then—this was the first time he was actually entering, and looked around with interest as he followed you towards your room.

“Cute place,” he commented.

“Thanks.” You rifled through your drawers to grab a couple specific items of clothing that you knew were deep in there. “Here.”

He looked down at the pair of sweatpants and graphic t-shirt you’d handed him, arching an eyebrow at you. “I thought you’d lost these…?”

“I meant to give them back,” you insisted half-heartedly.

“Really? When?”

“When they stopped being comfy…”

He laughed, landing a large hand on your head to pat your hair affectionately. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“What do you want to watch?” You asked, putting Sungchan’s plate of food on your coffee table and picking up the remote to turn the TV on. “Oh! I saw this documentary about yokai the other day that I think you’d like!”

“Really? Did you stay awake for the whole thing this time?” Sungchan teased as you opened the app on your TV.

“No, I didn’t watch because I thought you—” You cut yourself off. “I found something else. Do you want to watch it?”

“Sounds interesting,” he said, taking a big bite of his food. “Pull it up, if you think you can stay awake.”

“You know I like to fall asleep to documentaries on purpose because the narrators’ voices are relaxing,” you huffed. As you started searching it up, something occurred to you, and you turned to Sungchan with a thoughtful frown on your face. “Hey, why were you ready for a funeral so quick anyway?”

He pushed around some of his food with his utensil, not meeting your eyes. “Mm, Taro dragged me out on this double date thing…”

“Oh.”

He shrugged, then rubbed your back, letting his hand rest there. “I’m glad I bailed. Nowhere else I’d rather be. Honest.”

You leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Channie. There’s no one else I would’ve wanted with me today. Really.”

“This is us now, remember? Just weddings and funerals.”

“And the occasional sleepover,” you mused, clicking play on the documentary.

“And the occasional sleepover,” he echoed, pulling you closer and resting his head on yours.

That night, the two of you winded down after some very interesting documentaries—with you only beginning to nod off on Sungchan’s shoulder towards the end of the second one—working in quiet symbiosis to clean the dishes and tidy up. When you saw Sungchan start heading towards the couch, you felt a pull in your gut. Then, before you could think it through, the words were tumbling out of your mouth, something about how your couch was way too small for him to sleep comfortably. And after a beat of hesitation, of giving you time to backpedal if you wanted, he was following you down the hall towards your room.

The empty space between you felt insurmountable after you settled under the covers, like there was a whole ocean there instead of your duvet. You didn’t go to sleep wrapped up in Sungchan’s arms, or with your head in the crook of his neck, or with his hand gently carding through your hair like you used to. But as you closed your eyes and rolled onto your side away from him, trying to grasp at the thing that was poking out of your heart so you could finally pull it out, you at least got to go to sleep listening to his even breaths. And for right now, that meant everything.

“Do you think…” You handed Sungchan his cup of coffee in the morning, trying not to ruminate too much about how cute he looked with his bedhead. “Do you think we’ll ever…?”

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised as he slowly lifted the mug to his mouth and took a sip, then lowered it back down the counter. “Ever…?”

You pulled at the sleeves of your hoodie anxiously. “You know, get back together?”

He sighed, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. “Y/N…”

“I’m sorry, that was—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he reassured you, taking another sip. “I just… Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

“I’m just waiting on you. To be ready, finally figure out how you feel about yourself. Until you want me back in your space again.”

“But I thought you were on a double date yesterday?”

“We hadn’t even gotten to the restaurant when you called. I didn’t know it was a date until Shotaro tried wrestling my phone from me when he saw it was you. That’s why I missed your call in the first place, by the way.”

Hot tears pricked at your eyes, but you couldn’t even pinpoint why you were crying this time. Sungchan stood up from the chair he had been sitting in at your kitchen table, crossing your kitchen in one long stride to wrap his arms around you and bring you into his chest. You buried your face in his shirt as you tried to get a handle on even a single thing you were thinking or feeling. He stroked the back of your head with a large hand, encouraging you to breathe. You wiped your eyes and looked up at Sungchan. His image wavered in your watery vision, but you could just make out that his eyes were teary, too. Your gaze flicked down to his mouth, swept up in being this close to him again, overwhelmed at how sweet he was, how perfect he was. Apparently reading your mind, he brushed some hair away from your face before leaning down to drop a fleeting kiss to your forehead.

He stepped back with a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips. “So that’s how you felt then.”

“I’m sorry,” you blubbered. “I’m not-I’m—”

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “Take all the time you need.”

[jung yusung: attached image]

You blinked several times at the text notification that had just popped up at the top of your phone screen. Then it was followed by another.

[jung yusung: We didn’t have your address, so I’m just making sure you had this]

It was a wedding invite, for Sungchan’s brother’s wedding next month. You did technically still have it on your phone calendar, leftover from when you’d saved the date way back when it was announced while you were still dating Sungchan. As far as Yusung should be concerned, to your understanding, your address should be Sungchan’s address, and he already sent your invite months ago.

You dragging Sungchan to a distant cousin’s wedding was one thing, but Sungchan and his brother were quite close, and you had also become good friends with him and his fiancée in the time that you and Sungchan dated. It just felt wrong to lie to them.

Right as you had started typing your explanation to him, another text came through.

[jung yusung: Sungchan told us yesterday that you two broke up. We want you there because you’re family either way]

You immediately called Sungchan. It rang a few times before he picked up.

“Y/N?” His tone was clearly worried.

“Hey, Sungchan,” you smiled half-heartedly despite the fact that he couldn’t see it.

“Hey,” he replied, relieved presumably at the fact that it didn’t sound like you were actively crying. You imagined that he was smiling a little bit as well. “How are you?”

“I’m alright. How about you?”

“Good. Just uh, leaving a fitting, actually.”

“For your brother’s wedding?”

“Yeah, it’s coming up fast.”

“Next month.”

“Oh, you remember.”

“Actually, Sungchan, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about—”

“I’m glad you called, I need to tell you—”

“Me first?” You requested.

“Okay.”

“Why did you tell your family that we broke up?”

“You know.” He paused. “Uhm, because we did?”

Fair. “Yeah, but why now?”

He let out a deep sigh. “Ahh… I didn’t tell them at first, because I kind of didn’t want to believe it, and then I was ashamed. That I couldn’t keep the best thing that ever happened to me. Like, you said it wasn’t my fault, and I believed you, but I felt like if I told them, it would still look like that. That I failed somehow. I just didn’t want to deal with that. But after the last funeral, that whole thing with your mom… I couldn’t keep being selfish like that. Especially with Yusung and Hyesoo’s wedding coming up, they’d be expecting you and me there as a couple. It wouldn’t have been fair to you.”

“Thanks.”

“How do you know I finally told them?”

“Yusung told me,” you admitted, biting your cheek. “That’s why I’m calling. He personally re-invited me to the wedding, even though we’re not together. I wanted to talk to you about it, though. If it’s going to be weird for you, I won’t go.”

“No, Y/N,” he immediately replied. “I know you’re friends with Yusung and Hyesoo. They miss you and want you there, too.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. Weddings and funerals, right?”

“Right,” you confirmed.

“I’m going to get there early and have groomsman stuff to do, but uh, I’ll have Taro pick you up, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

“Great.”

Today was Yusung and Hyesoo’s wedding, and you were fixing your hair for maybe the fiftieth time in the bathroom mirror when your doorbell rang, followed by a series of peppy knocks. Rushing to grab your phone and purse, you opened it to greet your friend on the other side with a breathless smile.

“Taro, hi,” you hugged him. Shotaro had been the one to introduce you and Sungchan in the first place, a mutual friend, though you knew he and Sungchan were friends for years before you ever met.

“Hey, Y/N,” Shotaro squeezed you back. “How you been?”

“Oh, good.” You shuffled out and locked your front door behind you. “How about you?”

“Same old.” He shrugged, grinned, and spun his keys around his finger. “Ready to go?”

“Yep!”

The ceremony hadn’t started yet, people were still milling around, chatting, and finding seats. Taking your seats to one side of the aisle, you anxiously smoothed over your clothes as you tried not to feel like you were intruding. Yusung had personally invited you despite everything. You were here to support your friends.

“Relax, Y/N,” Taro had apparently sensed your nerves, flashing you another smile. “You’re not the one getting married.”

“I know, I know,” you laughed, flexing your fingers in your lap to try to get out some of the nervous tension. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For anything specific, or…?”

“Taking Sungchan on that double date. Or, at least trying to.” At your friend’s skeptical look, you added, “Really, I didn’t want him to stare at a wall the whole time or something. I wanted him to keep being him.”

“I did have to trick him, he wouldn’t have said yes if he knew it was a date,” he informed you with a sigh.

“I did hear about that…”

“I don’t know your whole situation, and you don’t have to tell me. I’m sure you needed the space,” he lowered his voice and scooted in towards you as to not broadcast your conversation to every other person sitting around you. “But… Sungchan isn’t the same as before. He’s never going to be the same again. Whether or not you two get back together, he can’t just go back to how he was. And I don’t think he wants to.”

“I feel the same way,” you admitted, glancing over to where Sungchan and the other groomsmen were waiting at the end of the aisle. He caught your gaze, and his features were immediately overtaken by a big smile. You smiled and lifted your hand in a small wave back. “Loving Sungchan and being loved by him, it’s the kind of thing that changes you.”

“I didn’t take him on that date because I hate you or think that you’re not good together.”

“I didn’t think you did.” You tilted your head curiously. “So why did you?”

“Because Sungchan’s fatal flaw when it comes to you is that he wants you to be happy, no matter the detriment to him or to you.” He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “From what he’s told me, I don’t think you guys should’ve even broken up in the first place. He didn’t put up a fight at all, did he?”

“No, he was really understanding.”

“Idiots. The both of you. Him, for not trying to get you to talk about it first, and you for thinking he would just be the same old Sungchan like nothing happened.” He scoffed. “I mean, do you even know him?”

You took his seemingly harsh words in stride, knowing that your usually bright and cheery friend didn’t get this upset unless he really cared. “You took him on that date, and tried to take his phone so he couldn’t pick up my phone to… force him into fighting for our relationship?”

“Giving me a bit too much credit there, maybe,” Shotaro let out a chuckle. “It’s like you said. He was stuck, waiting around for you. I wanted him to do something. Either move on, or go get you back.”

Your eyes strayed to Sungchan again, fixing his tie and adjusting the finer points of his suit. Another groomsman said something to him, to which he laughed, and you felt your heart lurch.

The ceremony was incredible. You felt yourself tearing up a little with how happy you were for your friends. They shared their first kiss, and giddily half-ran back down the aisle. The rest of the wedding party filed out after them, and you caught Sungchan’s eye again then, smiling and waving. He waved back, absolutely beaming.

At the reception, there were no assigned seats save for the wedding party’s table, so you and Shotaro ended up at a table of people you learned to be college friends of the couple. You sat through the various toasts, including Sungchan’s, and were finally left to eat and chat in peace.

“Y/N!” A hand gently rested on your shoulder, and you wiped at your mouth before turning around. It was Sungchan’s mother, and you eagerly greeted her as she bent down to hug you. “Oh, I thought that was you.”

“Hi, yes. How are you?” You accepted the hug from her husband as well.

“We’re well.” She still looked absolutely stupefied, like she couldn’t believe that you were real. “Both boys said you were coming, but still…”

“Yusung and Hyesoo invited me,” you smiled awkwardly. “Again…”

“I’m glad to see you, sweetheart,” she sighed wistfully, patting your cheek, then turned to your friend. “And you too, Taro.”

“I thought I was invisible for a second!” He huffed in feigned exasperation, standing up to give both parents hugs, making everyone laugh.

“Our third son could wait for a moment,” Mr. Jung teased back.

“Forgotten middle child as always,” he tsked and shook his head.

As they moved to chat with the other guests at your table, Shotaro nudged your arm and nodded towards the wedding party table, which was relatively vacant as many were off mingling. “Do you want to go give our congrats to the bride and groom?”

“Sure, yeah.” You nodded, accepting his hand up.

Approaching the table, you saw it disappointingly devoid of Sungchan, but still beamed at your friends as you arrived.

“Y/N! Shotaro!” Hyesoo squealed and got to her feet to wrap the both of you in tight hugs. “Hi!”

“Congrats!” You laughed and hugged her back, careful to avoid bumping the tiara/veil on her head. “How does it feel?”

“Awesome,” Yusung gushed, hugging you next once his wife had let you go. “How are you doing, Y/N?”

“I’m good, really,” you assured him. “Thank you.”

“My brother’s around here somewhere—” He got on his tiptoes to try to peer around the venue.

“Don’t worry about our problems. Today’s your wedding, seriously,” you waved him off with a laugh, trying to pull him back down to flat feet. “You don’t have to be big brother for one day.”

“Can’t, sorry. No off switch.”

You shook your head, despite your smile, “I know, I know.”

After a bit more chit chatting about their wedding—the venue, the food, Hyesoo’s dress, the decorations, a debacle with the florist—you and Shotaro excused yourself to let the next guests that were hanging around nearby have a chance to talk to the couple. It was then that Sungchan finally found the two of you, having shed his suit jacket at some point as he loosened his tie and fanned himself with his dress shirt.

“Hey, guys, are you having a good time?” He asked, clearly out of breath.

“Yeah, man, are you?” Shotaro laughed incredulously.

“You look like you’re about to have a stroke, Channie,” you pressed the back of your fingers to his pink cheek, furrowing your brow when you felt how warm he was. Grabbing his arm, you pulled him over to the drinks table. “When was the last time you drank water?”

“This morning? Maybe?” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Definitely at the rehearsal dinner. Last night.”

You grabbed a cup and filled it up from the ice-cold jug clearly label ‘water’ in a fancy cursive font. Pushing it into his hand, you said sternly, “Drink some. Now.”

He gulped down the first cup obediently, and you immediately refilled it before handing it back to him. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Was the whole building about to collapse or something?” Shotaro asked. “You looked freaked.”

“No, just felt like it,” he chuckled, taking another long swig of water. “But everything’s fine now.”

“Good, I’m glad.” You squeezed his arm.

“I’m uh—I’m going to go use the bathroom,” your friend announced loudly. “Then maybe talk to some people. For a long time.”

“Oh, really subtle, Taro,” Sungchan snorted.

“As a freight train,” you agreed, watching him click his tongue, snap his fingers at the both of you, and saunter off.

“Thank you for coming,” Sungchan said. “Really, you—It’s good to see you again.”

“I’m glad I came,” you smiled up at him, fixing his rumpled collar for him. “You looked good up there, Channie.”

“The wonders that a tailored suit will do.”

“I can’t believe that you have two suits now.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s called character development?”

You laughed, maybe harder than his joke warranted, but you couldn’t help the bubbly feeling in your chest from being back around Sungchan again. You hadn’t felt this happy since the last time you were with him.

He had a fond smile on his face as he watched you. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You messed with your own outfit bashfully.

“If I can say that…?”

“Yes, Sungchan, you can compliment me,” you laughed, pushing on his shoulder.

He let himself be jostled a little bit as he grinned at you. “Just making sure.”

Still with a tug at the corner of your mouth, you caught his eye, and slipped your hand into his.

“It’s your brother’s wedding, and you seem stressed enough,” you breathed out hesitantly. “We obviously don’t have to talk today. But I’m ready.”

For a stomach-dropping second, he froze. Then his hand was tightening around yours and he was pulling you away from the drinks table, through the crowd, out the back door of the room, and down the halls at a dizzying pace that you could barely keep up with. You didn’t know where you were until the cool nighttime air hit your skin. Stars dotted the inky sky, and it took you a few moments after your eyes had adjusted to the darkness to realize that you were back at the courtyard where the outdoor ceremony had taken place, nothing but the arch of flowers left.

Each of you just looked at the other for a few silent moments. You gulped, the sound comically loud in your ears. You got the two of you into this mess, it was only right that you should go first.

“I-I’m so sorry, Channie,” you began, clasping his hand desperately. “I did let my family get to me, and instead of talking to you, I ran away from you. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you. And…” He grabbed your other hand too. “I’m sorry I just let things pass me by. Your family treating you like that, our relationship. Me not doing anything because I didn’t want to fight… that wasn’t fair to either of us.”

“I forgive you, too,” you sniffled, feeling the tears rising up faster than you could stop them.

“So, you’re really ready to try for more than just wedding and funerals?”

“Absolutely,” you smiled and wiped at your eyes. “We can’t really attend anything hosted by my family anymore, so we need some new date ideas anyway.”

“Wait what?”

“After the last funeral, you and I are sort of banned from all future Y/L/N family events until we apologize. Per my mother,” you admitted.

Sungchan’s eyes widened. “Y/N, oh shit, I’m so—”

“Don’t. They don’t deserve an apology from either of us,” you reassured him, cupping his cheek. “I missed you so bad, Sungchan.”

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight to him as he buried his face in your neck. “God, I missed you too, baby.”

You hugged him back, feeling the painful knots that had been ensnared around your chest for months now unravel.

“Do-Do you think we should go back in?” You murmured.

“Probably…” He sighed, not loosening his grip on you. “We probably missed their first dance.”

A crack of thunder made you jump out of your skin, and you felt Sungchan startle in your arms as well. You looked up at the sky, putting a hand over your heart as you could feel your heartbeat racing, “Fuck, that scared the hell out of me.”

The words were barely out of your mouth when a drop of water hit your arm. Then another. Then it was absolutely pouring, and both you and Sungchan were soaked in seconds, before you could even head for shelter. You looked at each other is disbelief.

“Well… shit,” you sputtered out a chuckle, looking down at your drenched clothes.

“I think we’d be a slipping hazard on the dance floor at this point,” Sungchan laughed, pushing his wet hair from his face as he looked up into the rain. “Kind of feels nice, though.”

“Hm.”

You threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He managed to catch you, letting out a chuckle as he stumbled back a step. The sounds of the rain hitting the stones underfoot filled your ears as he enveloped you in his warm arms. Sungchan began to sway the two of you to a simple beat, humming under his breath as he rested his cheek on your hair.

“Channie?”

“Baby?”

You looked up at him, cupping his cheek. Your eyes followed a drop of water as it ran down his nose and dripped off. Sungchan covered your palm with his before leaning down and pressing your lips together. You grabbed his tie to pull him even closer as his other hand settled on your lower back, fingertips pressing you into him.

“Shh,” Sungchan tried to quiet your laughs, before immediately giggling himself.

The rain had eventually let up, but the two of you were unfortunately still quite damp by the time you finally reentered the venue. You had wrung out what water you could to avoid dripping all over the place, but it was quite obvious where you two had been.

“You shush!” You hissed back, pinching his arm that you were holding.

“I just need to get my phone and my keys and my jacket, and your purse, and we can go,” he reiterated the plan. “I might have a couple towels in my car, so you don’t have to sit on a wet seat.”

The upbeat music had gotten louder the nearer you were to the main room, and the two of you stopped at the entrance to look around. A few other guests had already left, you could tell, and most were congregated on the dance floor, engrossed among themselves.

“Wait here,” Sungchan whispered, squeezing your hand before taking off.

You hung back at the entrance, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible and avoiding anybody’s gaze.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” Hyesoo had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, unaccompanied by her husband or anybody else. She gasped as she took in your drenched appearance. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just stepped outside for a second and got stuck in the rain,” you tried to assuage her concerns. “I’m going to head out though, don’t want to drip all over the place, you know?”

“Oh, you poor thing.” She tried to usher you down the hall. “Here, we have stuff at the bridal suite. Where was Sungchan? Or Shotaro? Why did they leave you alone?”

You tried to politely decline and stay put. “It’s fine, Hyesoo, really. Thank you, but it’s late. I was going to head out soon anyway.”

A familiar laugh came from behind you, and both you and Hyesoo turned to look. It was Shotaro, toting the similarly damp Sungchan with him. Sungchan had his suit jacket, phone and keys in one hand, and in the other, which Shotaro had the wrist of, was your purse. Shotaro must have been back at your table and caught him when he went to retrieve it for you.

“Knew it,” Shotaro was still laughing. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

Hyesoo looked between you and Sungchan, her expression changing from that of worry and pity to a knowing smile. She didn’t outright laugh like your other friend, simply letting go of your elbow and stepping back next to Shotaro. “Gotcha. Thank you for coming, Y/N, Sungchan.”

“Congrats again,” you squeezed your friend’s hand. “Give Yusung my best too.”

“I will be telling Yusung. For sure,” she giggled.

“Bye, Hyesoo,” Sungchan shook his head, but nevertheless pecked his sister-in-law on the cheek. “Tell Yusung we said bye.”

“See you, Taro!” You waved to him over your shoulder as Sungchan had already started escorting you out.

“Buh-bye!” Shotaro waved back zealously.

Sungchan fetched the promised two towels from his backseat, a little rumpled, and immediately tried to use both of them to dry you off. You took one from him to run over his hair and press against the wettest part of his clothes. He put his dry suit jacket on your shoulders and opened the passenger door for you, laying the towel down on the seat. You pulled him in for one more sweet kiss before getting in.

Sungchan got in with his own towel wrapped around his waist, then started the car. He immediately cranked up the heat, which you were grateful for, rubbing at the goosebumps on your skin.

“Hey,” he called for you softly.

You immediately looked over at him, finding him already gazing at you with the most tender smile on his face as he reached for your hand to hold it over the center console.

“I missed you.”

You kissed the back of his hand. “Thank you, Channie. For not giving up on me.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me either.” He kissed your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

⤷ masterlist

[boiohboii]

What's a soft launch? (Lando Norris x Leclerc! Reader)

YN Leclerc is dating Lando Norris in secret, and they had been keeping it really quite for the past 9 months, but unfortunately she is dating an idiot who forgot to close his stream.

or

in which YN Leclerc and Lando Norris make everyone watching his stream need to bleach their eyes.

N.B: this is something for fun and has no relation to real life people. Also, I'll be doing a sm fic based on this cause a meme picture is what started this for me.

WARNING: suggestive, no actual smut. Making out. PDA cause lando forgot to close his stream. Mentions of breast, nipple and bra. French not used properly?... if i missed anything else let me know!

Sighing, Lando stretched his back while calling for his girlfriend- letting her know that it's okay to come in.

"Hey handsome."

username: is that who I think it is!

username: ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

username: someone call 911 lando no rizz pulled YN Leclerc

username: I want yn to call me handsome too

Unaware of the fast chat the couple smiled at each other as YN sat on Lando's lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, wrists staying still at the nape of his neck while her fingers play with the soft curls of his hair.

"Hello ma chérie."

And that's all the older boy got to say as the young girl latched her lips onto his, tightening her grip around his neck while his arms rest at her hips, squeezing them as he lifts her up a bit trying to reach as much of her as possible.

username: AY YOOOOOO someone tell my man he is live and we can see that

username: THE GRIP HE HAS ON MY GIRL

username: ooofffff, Lando's funeral is gonna be tomorrow my dudes

username: F in the chat for lando

username: F in the chat for charles, he having a heart attack rn

username: my girl gonna wake up with bruises

Breaking away to catch their breath Lando's hand caressed her hips, moving until they rested on her ass

"Ohhhh, okay, are we going there."

"I don't know gorgeous, are we?"

Shifting around in the chair, Lano placed his back to the arm of the chair moving YN in front of him- unknowingly, making the viewers have a perfect view of their interlocking lips which were quickly followed by a gasp from YN as Lando pressed his hips into hers- thus allowing a perfect entrance of his tongue into her mouth.

username: OKAY THIS IS A FULL MAKE OUT SESSION.

username: LANDO IS DYING AT 25 MY DUDES

username: FFS SOMEONE CALL THEM OR SEND A SUB OR SOMETHING, WE DON'T WANT LANDO TO DIE

username: Holy shit, YN have mercy on your brothers

username: how to be Lando rn

username: THIS FEELS SO WRONG, THEY LITERALY HAVE THEIR TONGUES DOWN EACH OTHER'S THROATS

username: please lord, let Lando still be able to have kids after seeing the Leclerc brothers

Being interrupted by her ringtone did not deter the couple from their steamy activity, in fact it was like they didn't even hear it as Lando's right hand slipped into the girl's shirt roaming around her stomach as it rested in her breast.

Another ringtone...... Lando's left hand made its way to her bra's clasp, opening it with swiftness that made it evident it had not been the first time he had done that.

The way their tongues moved and their arms explored places they were already familiar with only comes with expirence. A lot of experience.

As the ringtone got repeated for the third time, Lando decided to slow down, removing his lips from hers while his right hand pushed her bra downward a bit, making him feel her hard nipple under his fingertips.

Moving her left arm from around his neck while balancing herself with her right arm, YN reached into her back pocket getting her phone out.

"Oh, it's Danny"

The cheerful voice of the girl filles the room

username: of thank god!

username: FINALLY

username: Lando, you will be missed

username: this has been the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life

username: I wasn't even doing anything and I'm out of breath

Answering the phone YN couldn't even get a word out before Daniel is screaming into her ear

"IT'S LIVE! YOU'RE FUCKING LIVE."

Snapping her head towards her boyfriend's set up, she quickly balanced the phone in between her ear and her shoulder while removing his hand from under her shirt, tipping as she attempted to close the live while holding her bra in place as much as possible.

"What? What's wrong?" Upon seeing his girlfriend's frantic behaviour Lando became alert, worried something might be wrong.

"YOU DIDN'T CLOSE THE LIVE!"

"WHAT!!"

In a hurry to get up from his position and close the stream he tripped over his own feet just as his hands reached the desk, and as an attempt to save himself from the fall he gripped the first thing within his reach- his keyboard and his mic- making them fall right on his head.

The sudden scream of Lando's and the quite comical fall (in YN's opinion) made her forget about the older man on her phone and about the entire issue. The only thing she did was double over in laughter that within seconds turned into a sound similar to that of a car's windshield wiper.

"Oh, I'm glad my pain is amusing you."

username: this is the best stream of my entire fucking life man

username: I have no idea what is going on, but I love it

username: this is hilarious.

SOCIAL MEDIA REACTIONS

THE BROTHERS' REACTIONS

THE FAMILY DINNER

[lady-ashfade]

Hi could you please do yandere house of dragon x Helena twin and when Luke takes Aemond eye he also accidentally cut reader neck, and when they everyone’s gathered Alicent going crazy, reader faints making everyone extremely worried. Luke felt terrible ?

More Then A Eye

Yan!Various!HOTD Characters x Fem!Reader

Made this were the reader was the only one injured because that makes it more fun, and also might make a part 2 so that will come into play if I make that. Also feel like if it was just the reader it would be more interesting.

Warnings: Blood, gore, knifes, violence, yandere actions, reader being injured, me going slight into-depth on how the reader gets cut. Pretty much the whole thing.

Reader wants the family to all get along while the chaos is going on. She is sweetheart like her sister, but she doesn’t have the sight as her sister does. So she notices most of what’s happening, the other half of her sister.

Reader stops Aemond from getting picked on when she’s near because she has the power to make the boys calm, and the rest of the family at that. So she can get mad and upset so aemond feels at ease when his sister is around. But all the boys long for her affection and love, so they all cling to her.

The funeral is a very sad time for her since she loved Laena and the thought of her cousins losing their mother. Or her uncle losing his wife.

So to the readers surprise when she see aemond and jace have a small moments it brings a warmth to her chest in this dark time. Hoping that this was the gods way to bring her family together, but her hopes soon vanished when night came.

She had heard the others walk through the hallways as she tried to fall asleep, opening her door and their whispering calls. They got her attention and claimed someone stole vhagar so she went with them.

“I think we need to wake up our parents.” But her words were shoot down as they dragged her through the halls and down through the castle.

As soon as she saw the white hair she knew it was aemond and she wished she stayed in bed. The kids started to shout, while aemond replied in a time she never heard before, not shy. But proud and filled with venom.

When the fight broke out and all the reader could do was scream and cry for them to stop, but her body froze up. As soon as aemond grabbed ahold of Luke she ran towards him and grabbed ahold of his arm.

“Please, do not hurt them anymore. We- We can all stop this madness,” she looked around at all of them with tears. “Let us all be family.” Aemond was so caught up in his own wrath he pushed the reader back so she wouldn’t get in his way.

He threw Luke to the ground after calling jace and Luke “Strongs.” Then throwing the younger boy to the ground. Jace pulled out a small knife and the reader gasp as they fought again, but the knife was thrown elsewhere.

She watched as Luke crawled to the knife with a interesting to hurt aemond so her body moved on its own. “Aemond!” Just as she shouted she was cut off with the sound of flesh being cut with his blade and gushing sounds. They watch the horror in front of their eyes go down. Blood rolling down her throat and gasped of failed attempts of air when she fell to the ground with her hands clawing at her own throat.

Luke dropped the knife and steps back in disbelief of what was happening. Aemond caught his sister and laid her down in his arms trying to stop the bleeding. “How could you! I’ll kill you! I’ll feed you to my dragon.” He started to cry as did the others.

“What���s going on here?” The guards shouted as the walked up on the children and soon realized the princess. They took her in their arms and sent for the maester and the king at once. Everyone soon garnered in the hall for what had happened.

Alicent screamed when she first saw her daughter and it was loud that everyone in the castle heard. Running to her daughter with tears in her eyes she started to move her hair out of the way as the maester worker. Viserys screamed at the guards to answer who had done it but he wasn’t expecting his own grandsons. Aemond sat at his mothers side while handing the readers hand. Healana looked at the ground with a sob. She had saw it in a nightmare once’s that felt so real, this exact moment.

The boys stayed back and far away. Luke not even daring to look at the reader knowing he caused her harm and pain. All of them wondering if she would be dead soon. Alicent was so focused she didn’t even pay attention to anything but the reader being life and to keep her that way.

When rhaenrya entered it was hell to pay. Reader had just got done with her stitches while still knocked out cold as her body tried to heal itself. “You,” Alicent screamed and pointed at the princess. “You’re filthy sons did this.” Rhaenrya had not see the reader yet as she looked at her sons. When her eyes looked onto the readers body her eyes went wide and looked back at her sons not believing a word.

“They did this?” She asked around the room as the boys tensioned up. “It’s true, jace brought the knife to the fight and his brother, Luke, did the deed.” Cole spiked with a snare. Luke tugged at his mother’s sleeves, “But I did not mean too. Aemond was going to kill jace! The reader got in the way.” All the children started to scream their own defense as everyone watched.

The king was mad but not at the children but at the guards for not doing their jobs. Saying this would have been avoided if they were watched closely. “She would not want us to fight and surely you all know it.” He turned to look at young Luke in the eyes. “I know you did not mean it boy, things can be forgiven.” Alicent looked at rhaenrya as she smiled softly and pull her sons behind herself and listened to Viserys plead of forgiveness and family.

“He deserves no forgiveness,” Alicent stood up and let go of your hand. “The knife was brought to the fight and one of our children could have been killed- Y/n almost died, or might not make it.” She inched closer with a glare and her hands made up into a fist. “Our little girls life being stolen can be..Forgiven?”

“It is what’s right! I love her with my heart but it has been decided, no more blood needs to be shed. Do not let your hatred blind you Alicent.” She stared at him as he spoke so calmly and started to walk away. Her eyes went to the dagger on his hip and her mind filled with red to see her daughter avenged. Moving quickly she took the blade from his side and held it up going for Luke.

“If you will not see to justice then I shall.” Rhaenrya pushes her sons back and caught Alicent before she got closer. They held each other, pushing and pulling to get what they wanted. “Another insult to my family and you get away with it? Just under falling under that pretty foot. It is not far, where is duty? Where is sacrifice?” Rhaenrya looked at the blade as it reflected off the fire light.

She was about to say something but a loud metal sound caught them off guard. They both looked back as the reader laid on the floor with her eyes open and reached out for them. Her head shaking as she tried to speak out but nothing was coming out. Aemond coming to her aid and helping her up but she had used her the rest of her strength to get out of the chair. Reader looked at her brother for help to help and speak her mind, pleading to do the right thing.

“No more blood shed mother.” His spoke but his eyes do not match his words. “She does not wish it.” Helaena came rushing down to her twins side and held her hand. Alicent looked back at rhaenrya one last time before pulling away and dropping the knife. Slowly inching back she looked around at her husband, only with anger and devastation.

Everyone was quiet as she ordered someone to carry her daughter out of the room with the maester. The kids walked with her and held onto their sisters hand as she fell back into a deep sleep. No one could speak a word as they all stood stocked.

For years that was the last time rhaenrya and her kids saw their aunt, along with Daemon. But letters where sent in private from the reader to all of them with updates and her forgiveness. But luke refuses to open and read them as his guilt rotted away at his soul. But each week for years new letters still came from her. The next time they all saw eachother, they all grown so much. But they all remembered the first acted of war.

One side trying to make amends and the other full of revenge.

[childrenofcain-if]

That one scenario where C and MC have a kid has my heart completely 😭 Can we get a follow up for that? How are things going on in the joint household? I'm also very curious to see what C would name their kid 🤭

the hershey’s kisses glinted in the late afternoon sun, crinkled foil catching the golden light that streamed in through the window. aster sat cross-legged on the sofa, a small island of contentment in the messy sprawl of school bags and discarded socks she’d left in her wake.

she was humming under her breath as she unwrapped another piece of chocolate, oblivious to the way her shoes lay in two opposite corners of the room and how her lunchbox sat precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and watching her with the detached amusement of a parent who knows they’ll have to clean up the mess but hasn’t yet summoned the energy to do so.

C was in the armchair, one foot propped on the edge of the ottoman, clicking through their macbook with half an eye on aster. it was domesticity in its sweetest form, the kind you don’t think about when you’re young and idealistic, imagining love and family like perfect polaroids on a wall.

“did you give her those?” C asked suddenly, their voice louder than the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen.

you blinked and set your coffee down, moving closer to inspect the crumpled foil wrappers littered around aster.

“nope,” you said after a beat. “not exactly either of our flavor. that’s… what is that, cherry? we don’t have those in the house.”

C arched a brow, and without missing a beat, turned their full attention to your daughter.

“aster,” they said, voice soft but with a worried edge, “where did you get the chocolates?”

aster’s head snapped up, her chalcedony green eyes lighting up with excitement.

“felix gave them to me!” she said, her grin wide enough to show the little gap where her front tooth had fallen out last week.

C froze, their hand tightening slightly on the edge of their macbook. you, on the other hand, were far more amused.

“felix, huh?” you said, crouching slightly to meet aster’s eye level. “and who’s felix again?”

her grin grew impossibly wider as she happily declared: “my boyfriend!”

you chuckled, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “oh, really? you have a boyfriend now, kleine ster? when did this happen?”

“this morning actually!” aster exclaimed, bouncing a little on the cushions. “he gave me the chocolates at recess and said he liked me, and i said i liked him too, and now we’re boyfriend and girlfriend!”

C’s eye twitched, a muscle jumping just beneath the surface. they sat up straighter, their attention now fully honed on your seven-year-old’s revelation.

“did he now?” they said, their voice tight. “and what else did this... felix boy say?”

aster frowned, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “uh… he said i could have the last red crayon in art class.”

“generous of him,” they muttered darkly, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“C,” you said warningly, but they ignored you, leaning forward with the intense focus of someone about to conduct an interrogation.

“and does this felix… hold your hand?” they asked, their tone too casual to be actually genuine.

“sometimes,” aster admitted, her brows knitting together.

C’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “does he share his lunch with you?”

“yeah, today he gave me his oreos!”

C’s jaw twitched. you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“C,” you said again, a little louder this time. “let it go, darling. they’re just kids.”

but they were too far gone now, leaning forward as though proximity might grant them any sort of control over the situation.

“aster,” they said with all the solemnity of someone at a funeral, “you can’t have a boyfriend. you’re too young. your brain isn’t fully developed. you’ll... you’ll explode! you’ll leave your parents all alone then and it’ll make us very sad.”

aster blinked at them, unwrapping another hershey’s kiss with deliberate slowness.

“i will explode?” she asked, clearly confused by this turn of events.

you rolled your eyes. “no, you wo—”

“yes, you will,” C insisted, cutting you off. “and anyway, you’re not allowed to date anyone until you’re like 30 and paying taxes. it’s a rule.”

“that’s not a rule,” aster said with the stubborn certainty of someone who knew she was right. she really was her parents’ daughter. “and felix is a good boy.”

“‘good,’” C muttered under their breath, glaring at the imaginary felix as though he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to hand their precious little star another chocolate. “i’m going to fight this seven-year-old.”

“C!” you snapped, stepping between them and placing a hand on C’s shoulder. “calm down, my love. it’s harmless.”

C leaned back reluctantly, their gaze flicking between you and aster, who was now watching them like they’d sprouted a second head.

“fine,” they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.

***

after dinner, aster sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined a tiny instruction manual for building LEGOs with the intensity of someone decoding the human genome. her fingers, small but deft, picked up pieces and slotted them into place, her movements sure and deliberate.

C sat beside her, their long legs folded awkwardly beneath them, one hand bracing their bad knee. their fingers worked slower than hers, more hesitantly. the gap between them—her bright enthusiasm, their cautious quiet—was almost laughable. but C didn’t laugh.

they watched her instead.

aster had inherited their stubbornness, the precision of their thoughts, the way they spoke with certainty even when they were wrong, the hard-headed refusal to back down in the face of a challenge. but she’d also inherited your warmth, your easy charisma, the way people seemed to orbit around you like you were some kind of gravitational force.

she was both of you, but neither of you. something wholly her own. and she shone so brilliantly.

“non,” aster said suddenly, shaking her head. she spoke in a tone that was equal parts exasperated and amused, the way one might speak to a child who couldn’t quite grasp a simple concept. “that piece goes here. look.” she leaned over, plucking a flat blue brick from the pile and snapping it into place on the half-constructed spaceship.

“ah,” C said, their lips quirking into a faint smile. “of course, petite étoile. how foolish of me.”

she beamed proudly, her confidence growing with each small victory.

“it’s okay. you’re still learning,” she said magnanimously, patting their arm. honestly, it amused C greatly to see her reflect you back when you both argued everyday like your life depended on it.

C snorted, shaking their head. “merci, mademoiselle.”

“pas de problème,” she replied breezily, her accent and pronunciation impeccably like a parisian native.

C felt a pang of pride so sharp it was almost painful. french had been one of their gifts to her, a piece of their heritage they had handed down like an heirloom. and she had taken to it effortlessly, as if it had always been hers.

she slipped between languages with a grace that left C in awe, her young mind absorbing everything like a sponge.

“wat is dit?” she asked suddenly, holding up a strange piece they hadn’t encountered yet.

“hmm,” you said from where you were sprawled on the couch, your legs stretched out and a book resting on your chest. you barely looked up as you answered her in dutch, explaining what the piece was and where it might fit.

aster nodded thoughtfully, her small fingers turning the piece over as she considered its possibilities. C watched her, their heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief.

how could someone so small hold so much brilliance? how could she be so much more than they had ever dared to imagine for themself?

“do you think felix likes LEGOs?” aster asked suddenly, breaking their reverie. she was staring at them now, her eyes—C’s eyes, pale green and perceptive—narrowed in thought.

C felt their jaw tighten at the mention of the boy, the ghost of their earlier irritation flickering to life.

“i have no idea,” they said evenly, focusing on the spaceship.

aster tilted her head, clearly unconvinced by their tone.

“he’s nice,” she said firmly, as though this simple fact should erase all of C’s doubts.

“i’m sure he is,” C said, their tone carefully neutral.

you glanced up from your book, smirking slightly as you watched the exchange. let it go, your eyes seemed to say.

but it wasn’t that simple.

it wasn’t about this felix boy, not really. it was about aster, about the inexorable passage of time, about the impossibility of holding on to something as fragile and fleeting as childhood. she was growing up, and there was nothing C could do to stop it.

C reached for another LEGO brick, their fingers brushing against aster’s. she looked up at them, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“tu vas bien?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.

the question caught them off guard. for a moment, they didn’t know how to respond. how could they explain the tangled mess of emotions that had been simmering inside them all day? how could they tell her that the thought of her growing up terrified them in a way they couldn’t quite articulate?

“i’m fine, petite étoile,” they said eventually, forcing a smile. “just tired.”

she seemed to accept this, turning her attention back to the spaceship. but C couldn’t help noticing the small furrow in her brow, the way her hands moved more slowly now, as if she was trying to puzzle something out.

they watched her in silence, their heart aching with a strange, bittersweet kind of love.

***

later, when the spaceship was complete and aster had been tucked into bed, C found themself sitting on the edge of your shared bed, their head in their hands.

“okay,” you said, sitting beside them. “do you want to talk about what exactly is bothering you, my love?”

they sighed, looking up at you now.

“it’s just… strange,” they said, their voice low and tired. “she’s growing up so fast. too fast. i feel like i blinked, and suddenly she’s not my little girl anymore.”

you stayed quiet, letting them find the words.

“i still remember holding her in my arms for the first time,” they continued, their voice thick with emotion. “i remember her first steps, her first word, the first time she looked at me and called out for me. and now… now she’s talking about boyfriends and whatnot.”

they let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through their hair. “i didn’t have this. a proper childhood. a father who cared. i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. i just… i look at her, and i love her so much it terrifies me. so much so that i still don’t understand how my father could—”

“hey,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on their arm. “you’re nothing like him. you’re such a wonderful parent, C. she loves you so much. you can see it every time she looks at you. and yeah, it’s hard watching her grow up. but that’s the deal. you love them, and you let them go, little by little, so they can become who they’re meant to be.”

C nodded slowly, their eyes softening as they looked at you. “i know you’re right.”

you leaned in, pressing a kiss to their temple. “of course i’m right, i always am.”

they rolled their eyes, but a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of their mouth.

“do you think…” they hesitated, the tips of their ears turning adorably red. “do you think we should have another one?”

“another what?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

they scowled, burying their face in your neck.

“you know what i mean,” they mumbled, their voice muffled. “don’t make me say it out loud.”

you laughed, stroking their hair. “we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

but you already knew the answer.

[bartywinter]

number · @rosekillermicrofic · rosekiller · word count: 661 · cw: angst

Barty dialed the phone number with trembling hands and dropped it next to him on the mattress after activating the speakerphone. Evan would probably want to kill him for waking him up so late at night, but he didn't know who else to tell that his mother had passed away.

It hadn't come as a surprise when his father called to break the news. His mother had been ill for years, and in the last year she had gotten so far worse Barty almost preferred death would take her away rather than further her suffering. He had visited her in hospital every week —she had been a patient in a specialised clinic two hours’ drive from the big city—, and yet he had not had a fair chance to say goodbye as Barty Crouch Sr told him of her passing only after the funeral. His mother had been buried and he had not been able to see her for the last time. Did his father hold that much resentment to deprive him of something as precious as his mother's farewell? Fuck him and his twisted, rotten way of punishment.

The call was picked up at the last ring.

“Barty,” Evan groaned on the other end of the phone. “I hope someone died, because why the fuck are you calling me at three in the morning?”

Bless Evan and his ill-timed crude sense of humour.

“Actually, my mother died.”

There was an awkward silence in the call that was eventually interrupted when Evan sat up in bed.

“Where are you?” His voice sounded much softer than before. “I'll come and get you.”

“That fucker buried her without telling me.” He was staring at the nickname he had saved his best friend's contact number under. Rosie. “I hate him. I fucking hate him so much.”

Barty heard what sounded like hurried footsteps on the floor.

“Baby, can you tell me where you are?” Although Evan tried to hide it so as not to upset him, his concern was evident in his tone. “Are you home?”

The pet name distracted Barty for a few long seconds.

“Yeah, I’m home.”

Around thirty minutes later, a motorbike engine was audible next to the building where he lived. He listened as the noise was replaced by the ringing of his doorbell. He hit the open button directly and opened the front door to await Evan. When he appeared from the lift, he walked quickly and stood before him, his hair dishevelled, his breathing heavy and his gaze worried.

“Hi,” Evan whispered shakily. “I couldn’t come earlier.”

Barty had to repress the urge to kiss him.

“I know.” He stepped aside. “Come in.”

After Evan entered the flat, Barty closed the door and they stood watching each other. It was unusual for the atmosphere to be awkward between them since they always knew what to say. There was an exception, particularly for Barty: feelings. One of the few emotions he was able to express was anger, which poisoned the poor capacity for reasoning he had in such a state and drowned any other possible emotions that struggled to come to the surface. However, he felt something new, a great hollowness in his heart that distracted him from all other feelings. His mother, with her death, had carved a big hole in his soul and had left him to deal with it alone.

Except he was really not alone. Evan was right there.

“We could kill him, you know.”

Barty nodded.

“Not today, though. I’m tired.”

Evan closed the small distance between them and took one of Barty’s hands gently.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

Barty shook his head.

“I won’t sleep.”

“You don’t have to.” Evan smiled beautifully at him. “We can watch a film.”

As the butterflies fluttered in his stomach like a blissful nightingale in the early hours of the morning, Barty realised he was going to be okay.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

never truly gone

words: 2k

alternative universe where rafe was the one to fake his death instead of ward

warnings: funeral, discussions of death and grief, established relationship, murder confession (canon murder), implications of smut (no actual sex)

you are barely tuned in to the words being spoken at the funeral, lost in the haze of grief. dressed in the same outfit you wore for your one year anniversary with rafe. it was his favorite. was. the word hits you like a ton of bricks.

it didn't feel real for the longest time, part of it still doesn't, the feeling in your gut that your boyfriend isn't truly gone, but as you pick your head up and look around, you realize you have to get over the stage of denial.

“are you okay?” your mom whispers, reaching over to squeeze your hand. you rip it immediately out of her grip. of course you're not okay. who could be after their first love, their high school sweetheart, blew up?

“now is the time that we invite anyone who would like to say a few words up to the mic.” the pastor says, looking out into the crowd, members of rafes family having already spoken.

ward turns around to look at you. he invited you to sit in the front row when you first arrived, but you didn't want that kind of attention, your every reaction being scrutinized, if you’re crying too much, or not reacting enough.

“would you like to speak y/n?” 

you look at the crumpled, tear stained piece of paper with some words scribbled on it.

“i-i don't know if i can.” you admit. ward seemed so strong when he spoke, the same pillar of community he seems to be when speaking at town halls or midsummers.

“whatever you say, im sure rafe would appreciate it.”

you nod, take a deep breath, then stand. your mind seems to blur as you walk to the front, the pastor greeting you with a soft hug then leading you to the podium.

you clear your throat before looking down at the paper. 

“i never imagined a life without you. you were the first man i ever loved and i can't… i can't see myself ever having that same love again. we changed each other so much. we went from kids to young adults planning out their life together. i love you so much, rafe. i always will no matter how much time passes.” you vow.

your next words turn robotic, talking about the family he left behind, his accomplishments, things that don't actually matter to you but you know should be said. you recount the five years you were together, knowing someone is no doubt scoffing at how little it is, but it was your whole world.

you manage to hold in your sobs until you sit back down. you spend the rest of the funeral with your head down, unable to look at the pictures hung around the church.

-- 2 months later --

you let out a groan as you turn over in bed, not wanting to wake up, wanting to spend another day rotting under the covers.

“it's almost noon.” your mom says, peaking in to the door.

“yeah.” you say, sniffling as you see the photo on your nightstand when you go to look at your alarm clock. you can't bring yourself to move it, even if it makes you cry every time you see rafes smiling face. “i know.”

“maybe we could go out to dinner. or order some pizza? you need to eat, baby.” you know your mom is just looking out for you, but the thought of food makes you feel sick, eating at this point when your stomach truly needs it.

“yeah, maybe.” you pick your phone up off the nightstand and unplug it. “im gonna take a shower and get dressed.”

“that's good.” your mom says. “i love you, y/n.”

“love you too mama.” you pause for a beat when she doesn't shut your door. “thank you.”

you mom nods before exiting. you open up your phone to the gallery that causes you as much pain as it has joy, flicking through your final photos with rafe before sighing and getting up to shower with him fresh in your mind, determined to not forget a single thing about him.

--

you're about to go to sleep, pass out and hopefully not dream of anything. you went out for dinner like you promised your mom, trying to keep a brave face for her. she didn't even mention anything when you came back from an extended trip to the bathroom with tear stains on your cheeks and red eyes.

you grab your phone, swallowing harshly to stop yourself from crying again as you click on your messages, rafes contact still pinned to the top. 

you click on your messages. the last text was rafe saying he loved you. you never got to text him back, but you know he was aware of how much you loved him.

you scroll back for a bit, smiling at his jokes even with the tears in your eyes.

you lock your phone and place it on your chest, looking up at the glittering stars through your skylight. “i miss you so much, rafe. why'd you have to leave me?”

your phone vibrates. you almost ignore it, not caring who it could be from, you've practically ditched all your friends, hoping they won't hold it against you when you finally feel good enough to hang out again, if that time ever comes.

something in you makes you pause when you go to plug your phone in, makes you hesitate and open up the text.

baby, im so sorry. please meet me outside, im at your dock.

love, rafe

you frown at the text from the unknown number, considering ignoring the obvious prank as you fling off your covers, body now fueled with rafe, but when you look out the window, there is an unfamiliar boat tied to your dock.

you slip on your shoes, not really thinking of a plan as you head outside, rushing through the yard to find out whoever is playing tricks on you.

the moon barely lights your steps as you stomp down the wooden dock until you're close enough from the boat for them to hear you and far enough from your house to not wake up your mom.

“this isn't fucking funny!” you scream. “whoever is pranking me, you're fucked up!”

a figure steps out of the boat and onto your dock. it takes your eyes a second to adjust, to really take in what you're seeing, to know it's reality.

“n-no.” you take a staggering step back. “im-im seeing things.”

“it's really me, baby.” the word hits you like a bullet as you fall to your knees, not caring that they dig into the wood. “i can explain everything but-but can i touch you? ive missed you so goddamn much.”

“this isn't real. you're- you're dead. im dreaming.”

rafe moves closer, dropping to his knees as well and pulling you into a tight hug. it isn't until he touches you that you know that it's not a dream, hes real and warm against you.

“oh, god.” you begin to sob, clutching onto rafe, clambering closer to him, climbing onto his lap and hugging him so tightly it's like your bodies could become one.

“im so fucking sorry baby. i love you. i love you so much.”

“i love you.” you sob, pulling back to look rafe in the eye. “i-i love you and you can never leave me again.”

you'll demand answers later, but now you're just happy your initial gut instinct was right, your boyfriend is right here, alive and well.

“can i kiss you? you're probably pissed at me but-”

you don't wait for rafe to finishing, surging forward and smashing your lips against his, all the passion and feelings of the past two months without him, but also the past five years of love, put into your bodies as you kiss under the moonlight.

“baby-” rafe gasps after a minute. “i-i need to get back on the boat. just in case i’m seen. come with me.”

“okay.” you're not sure what it means, but you're not going to let rafe out of your sight.

rafe climbs onto the boat before helping you, hand carefully stroking over yours as he leads you into the cabin.

“did you tell anyone that i messaged you?” he asks, sitting down on the bed and pulling you to his side.

“no.” you shake your head. “my mom doesn't even know.”

“that's good.” rafe nods. “i faked my death.”

“i can tell.” you giggle, unable to keep away for much longer as you press your lips against his in a quick peck before curiosity has your tongue loosening. “how? why?”

“my dad planned it for me. the boat was rigged to explode and i went and suited up in scuba gear. the why…” rafe hesitates for a moment, and you can read every emotion on his face.

“just tell me.” you say. “you can't hurt me. you can't make me mad at you, not when i just got you back.”

“i killed sheriff peterkin.” rafe swallows harshly. “it was to protect my dad, but of course nobody would believe me.”

“i believe you.” you tell rafe, tucking your head into his neck. “that must have been so scary, but i know how you'd do anything to protect the people you love.”

“my dad didn't want me to tell you at all. i agreed to wait until after it happened, but it all moved so fast, and when i got to where i was supposed to hide out for a while, i realized i had no way of contacting you. i had to steal a phone and this boat and leave the safehouse.”

“what's the plan now then?” you ask.

“have you come back to the safehouse with me. it's in the caribbean, on a gorgeous island. i will provide everything you need, we won't have to hide there.”

“and what will i tell my family? tell everyone?”

“well, your mom loves me.” rafe smiles, knowing he's right. “i think we can trust her to keep the secret. as for everyone else… maybe you just need some time away from the outer banks after what happened. maybe some cousins in michigan or something?”

“whatever.” you shake your head. “i just need to be with you.”

-- one week later --

“when you said safe house…” you look around the mansion. “this is not what i was picturing.”

“the locals here think im a cousin of the cameron family. allows me to stay here without much suspicion. i do keep a low profile and stay out of touristy areas just in case, but we can do whatever you want here. the ocean is right outside our doorstep.”

“and money? do i need to get a job?” you've never worked before, having grown up wealthy, but you're willing to do anything to keep your life going with rafe, having told your mom who didn't believe you until rafe stepped into the room. she saw the spark in your eyes and recognized it as the same one in hers when she looked at your father, and her time was also cut short when he passed young.

she made you promise to call and to let her visit every couple months, just enough to not be suspicious.

“no.” rafe shakes his head. “my dad funnels me money. cash, so no one gets suspicious.”

“honestly, i could just stay forever in the house and in the backyard.” you laugh, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“my dad will figure something out eventually, i don't expect you to hide for the rest of your life.”

“okay.” you shrug. now that you're with rafe, you don't care. you're going to be happy no matter what after feeling the pain of losing him.

“there is one more room i want to show you…” rafe picks you up, your legs slotting around his waist like nothing ever happened. 

you laugh as you kiss his neck, knowing exactly where he's taking you.

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Game Masterlist here

Summary: After the death of your brother and his wife. You find yourself adjusting to a new role in your life. A single parent to your teenage nephew. How do you help him heal? How do you help yourself heal? You're not sure. You don't think you can, until an annoying basketball coach enters your life and turns everything around.

Pairing: Basketball Coach Yoongi x F. Single Aunt Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Hurt-Comfort

Warnings: Death Of Parents / Brother/ Family, Car Accident (Cause), Swearing, Explicit Sex, Arguments, Physical Fighting, Past Abusive Relationship, Domestic Violence(past)

A/N: Nephew calls MC Sunshine as a nickname.

Also, this story will have some heavy themes so please take heed of the warnings.

“Let's go!” You call out to your nephew as you grab your keys and your purse. “You are going to be late on your first day.”

“Why do I even need to go?” Your nephew Nicholas, aka Nicky, asks you. “Why couldn't I stay at my old school?”

“Because, we don't live in that school district,” you answer, waving him to the door hurrying him along.

“Why couldn't we stay in my old house? There is way more room there compared to here,” he asks, finally walking to the door and opening it. He steps outside and waits for you to shut and lock the door.

“Because, I can't afford the house payments,” you say, jogging to your car sitting in the driveway. The both of you get in and buckle up before you take off to his brand new school. “Look, I am trying here. I know things are hard right now, and being the new kid sucks, but I need you to work with me. I don't know what I’m doing here, but I'm trying my best.”

He doesn't say anything in the seven minute drive to his school, but he shifts nervously, looking out the windows while playing with the zipper on his backpack. You didn't think that you would ever find yourself in this predicament. Caring for your thirteen year old nephew. You had been at work the night it happened. You had been working the closing shift at a rundown seedy bar outside of your hometown when you got the call. Your younger brothers voice was distraught and hurried. You had a hard time disyphehering what he was saying except the words accident, terrible and dead. You must have passed out because the next thing you know, you were in the back office with your coworkers fanning you with a newspaper. You remember having been scared and confused when you came to.

It took a minute for everything to come back to you. Your older brother and his wife were dead. They had been on the way back from a late dinner. A car swerved into their lane, trying to avoid a deer that ran out in the middle of the road, hitting them head on. Nicky, who was thankfully at your parents for the night, was not with them.

They were amazing parents. Your brother coached every sports team that your nephew was on and worked his ass off to support his family. Your sister-in-law ran the pta. They were loving, caring, patient, and everything you wished you could be.

You didn't cry when you found out. You didn't cry at the funeral. You still haven't cried. You couldn't bring yourself to do it. You had no choice but to be strong. You had to be strong for your nephew who had everything ripped from him and had to adjust to a whole new reality. You had to be strong for your mother, who had been hysterical and inconsolable after losing her oldest child. For your younger brother and dad who have been quiet and secluding themselves from the world, throwing themselves into their work. Instead of grieving, you took it upon yourself to do everything in order to keep busy. Planning the funeral, all you. The wake, all you. Appointments with their lawyer, all you. You had to carry the weight of your family and their grief. It was fucking heavy.

“What if I don't make friends?” He asks quietly as you pull up to the school via the drop-off lane. “What if no one likes me?”

“You will,” you assure him, as you lay your hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “You're smart and funny. Everyone will want to be your friend.”

“Thanks, sunshine,” he said, giving you a small smile before jumping out the car and heading into the building with his backpack slung around his shoulders.

You sit there for a minute watching the door that he just walked through just in case he decides to come back out. You were worried for him. You were scared that he was going to be scared. The car behind you honks their horn, and you do everything in your power not to flip them off. As you drive away from the school, you look in the rearview mirror one last time at the school building that was fading away in the distance. You sigh audibly. You don't know how parents do this every day, but you will figure it out. Eventually.

Transferring your hundredth call of the day, you sit at your desk and stare blankly at your computer screen. You had to quit working at the seedy motorcycle bar where most of the patrons were probably criminals, but that was none of your business. Working nights were out of the question now that you had a young teen at home, and the day shift didn't make a lot of money. Your mother called you out of the blue one day and told you that you were now working for your father at the family construction company. She didn't ask, she told you, leaving no room for you to argue against the decision. It was probably your dads idea, but he wouldn't ever admit to it. Your younger brother helped run the projects at the construction sites while his fiancee was the office manager. You were hired as her assistant. A position that you were sure was never there before, and the pay was way more than what it probably should have been. You think it was his way of taking care of you without being obvious about it, but you knew better.

You tug at the waist of your dark grey pencil skirt as you shift around in your seat. You hate wearing these things. When your mother showed up at your apartment, you felt like a disgruntled teenager being forced into school clothes shopping and buying outfits that you didn't want. She picked out every outfit for you and made you do a little fashion show for her while she did all the critiquing and checking the tightness around your waistline. Flowy blouses, turtlenecks, pencil skirts, and cardigans. You get it. You didn't own any ‘office appropriate’ clothes. Your bar attire had consisted of short and tight or shorter and tighter. This was a major adjustment. A major uncomfortable, almost stifling adjustment. Sighing, your eyes go to the clock on your computer. Standing up from your desk, you gather your bag.

“Getting Nicky?” Elly, your brother Chris's fiancée asks, as she peeks her head out of her office.

“Yeah, got to get there early. I was warned that finding a spot was like the Hunger Games,” you say with an eye roll. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“That sounds fun. Have a goodnight,” she said with a smile.

She was nice. Your late sister-in-law in law was nice. Both your brothers lucked out and found amazing women early in their lives. You, however, only found loser after loser that left you heartbroken every time. You can't even entertain the idea of dating now. Is that even allowed now that you are taking care of a child? Doesn't matter. Nicky was your number one priority now, and you would not let him down. You wouldn't let him down by bringing some man around him that would potentially hurt him. He needed stability, not your revolving door of men that jump in and out of your bed. Those days are now in the past, and you think it's probably for the best.

You had left thirty minutes early to find a place in the pick-up line along the sidewalk of the school, and you were lucky to snag the last spot. You shake your head and wonder how long some of these parents sit up here for reading their books or maybe taking naps. There is no way you can sit up here for an hour waiting for Nicky to get out of school every day. You might just have to make him wait and pick him up ten minutes after school gets out. He was lucky that you were even picking him up. You remember having to walk to the elementary school to pick up Chris and then walk home. Rain or shine, you did it every day. Luckily enough, the wait wasn't terrible. You were able to distract yourself, and the thirty minutes went by quickly. Distracted by your phone, you startled when your car door opened suddenly.

“Hey, how was your…” you started to ask as Nicky jumped into your car, but he immediately cut you off.

“I made a friend in gym class, and he told me about after-school basketball. It's not through the school, but through some different program. Can I try out? Please? Please? Sunshine, please?” He asks in one breath.

“Do you have any information?” You ask as you drive away.

“He sent me the link,” he answers, pulling his phone out. Soon, you hear your own phone chime. “There now you have it. The first practice is tomorrow. He says it's not really tryouts because everyone gets on the team.”

“Can we talk after dinner? Let me read everything and see what this is all about?” You ask while concentrating on the road.

“I'm going to need new basketball shoes. The one's dad…..” he said that shut his mouth quickly, and you could feel a stab to your heart. He doesn't like to mention them, and you don't want to force him.

“They are falling apart,” you finish for him, and he nods his head. “If you can get grandma to buy you a new pair, I'll sign you up. Deal?”

“Deal?” He says, immediately putting his phone to his ear. “Grandma….”

You chuckle to yourself. You know that he will get exactly what he wants. Being the only grandchild in the family, he was spoiled rotten from the first day he came home. Admittingly, you were guilty of spoiling him, too. You were twelve when your brother and sister-in- law brought Nicky home. You had fallen in love with him instantly. They had lived with your family during this time. Both were only nineteen years old and broke college students who needed the support of family. Her parents forced them to get married within months of finding out about the pregnancy. Your family gave them a home with all of you. They gave them support to finish college and help raise the young baby. It was a team effort, and you took it seriously.

You had been adamant from the very beginning that you had to get up when he cried in the middle of the night. You didn't care if he was up and feeding or just needed a quick diaper change. You had to be there. You had made it your routine to sing to him as he was cradled in his mothers arms to get him to go back to sleep. “You Are My Sunshine” was the only thing that got him to sleep. You don't even know how many times you sang that song to him as he grew up. It was probably hundreds. The nickname sunshine just stuck after that. You don't think that he has ever called you anything else in his thirteen years of life.

As you grew older and more ‘responsible’, you took him everywhere with you. He was always your little buddy attached to your hip. Even after they moved out and into their own home. You were always there looking after him. Taking him to get ice cream, taking him to the park, babysitting so his parents could go out and enjoy themselves. You never minded and always watched him for free. You were always happy to help take care of him because you loved him and he loved you.

It was obvious to you…and your dad why you got custody after their passing. Your mother, however, was furious that he wasn't placed with her and your dad after the will was read. She didn't think you could raise a child. She held any and all past mistakes you have made against you. Sure, you may have partied some in your late teens and early twenties, but you never hurt anyone. Sure, your taste in men was questionable at the time and found yourself in a bad situation once where you still have nightmares every now and then, but you have learned. You grew up. She didn't trust you and was waiting for you to fail. That absolutely hurt, but you were going to prove her wrong. With or without her help.

You were going to prove her wrong.

Sneakers squeaked against the shiny polished gym floor as you watched Nicky run around the school's gymnasium with his new friends. He looked happy as he passed the ball back and forth with two others. You might not like basketball, and the bleachers might hurt your ass as you sit there, but he was happy. You take a minute to look around discreetly as possible and see that it was painfully obvious that all the other parents knew each other. They all sat huddled together in the middle of the wooden bleachers talking as you sat on the outskirts by yourself. You felt awkward like an outsider who wasn't invited to join the party. You felt like you were too old to feel like this.

It was embarrassing.

The gym door opening loudly caught your attention, making you turn your head at the sound. Two men…strike that. Two very good-looking men came walking in carrying bags and a white plastic table between them. You figure they must be the coaches as you watch them set up the table before placing several stacks of paper out all lined up in a perfectly neat row. You think you hear some giggling behind you from some of the mothers. It makes you want to roll your eyes. You watch as the taller, tattooed man goes out on the court to round up the boys. The handsome blonde one with the serious eyes comes to stand in front of the bleachers.

Okay, you can see why they were giggling.

“Okay, I see we have some new faces here this year. Please make sure you read our handbook thoroughly with your child. We have rules here for a reason, and I expect them to be followed. Teamwork and above all else safety is our number one priority,” he says, addressing all the adults in a very unenthusiastic voice. He seems bored, like he has given this same spiel many, many times before. “Every weekday, we have practice after school from 4 to 6:30, and we expect each player to have a guardian here….”

You really didn’t care to listen to the rest of his speech. If their handbook was so important, then everything would be in there. You let your mind drift and eyes wander back to your nephew. He was in a big circle on the opposite side of the gymnasium. He was paying attention and nodding along to whatever the other man was saying. You were never one for team sports. You definitely didn't play them, and the only time you went to watch something was in high school, and you spent the whole time under the bleachers with your friends doing things you shouldn't have been doing.

Both your brothers had played basketball, ran track and anything else they had time for. Your brother had a basketball in Nicky's hand as soon as he could. They truly bonded over it. That's why it kind of surprised you when he told you about playing. He's been pushing everything away that reminded him of his parents. He even asked you not to have any pictures of them out. You don't blame him and you know it's not healthy, but you wanted him to heal in his own time. If he wants to embrace playing again then you will damn sure make sure he plays.

“Is that clear?” Blondie asks, knocking you back into reality as you see his eyes settle on you for a brief moment.

“Yes, Coach Min,” everyone says at the same time. Oh shit! Maybe you should have paid attention.

Blondie, aka coach Min, turns back to the court as observes the boys who have started to stretch with his arms crossed. Suddenly, a woman dressed way too fancy with a little too much makeup on her face, takes a seat next to you. The amount of perfume that emitted off her body made you want to recoil away from her. You wonder if she is here to support her son or to try and catch the attention of one of the coaches. She gives you an obvious fake smile and looks around quickly before opening her mouth to speak.

“Hi, I'm Ara. My son Jisung is the shooting guard on the team. I just wanted to let you know that our children have been on this team for years now. They have been playing together since they were 8. They're champions. Don't expect your boy to start and take a position away from one of us. We don't need anyone new,” she informs you with the same sugary sweet smile. “I just don't want you to waste your time by being here. I'm sure you have more important things to do.”

“Well, Ara, it's a good thing I don't give a shit about you or your positions,” you say back just as sweetly.

You watch her smile drop and huff her way back to her seat, sitting with her minions once again. The man seated a little ways away from you starts chuckling. You ignore him and try to focus on Nicky and how he is doing, but the man slides over next to you.

“No one ever tells her off,” he informs you. “Thank you for that. I'm Mark.”

“Y/N,” you say, introducing yourself, but don't actually look at him. You weren't looking to make friends. Especially with parents who think they are better than everyone else.

“They are just jealous,” the man, Mark, proceeds to tell you. “They try to run off anyone new that comes on to the team. Especially if the mom comes with their child. Unfortunately, their tactics usually work.”

“So, this is like high school drama bullshit?” You ask, still not looking at him.

“Pretty much,” he confirms, nodding his head.

“That's just great,” you say sarcastically.

You go back to watching the boys on the court. The squeaking shoes were annoying, and your ass was definitely going to be asleep by the end. You can feel the heated glares that were focused on your back from the mothers sitting behind you. Their whispers were loud enough to know that they were talking about you, but quiet enough that you couldn't make out any details. Four months. Four long months. That was how long this damn thing was going to last, and he better freaking enjoy it.

As both whistles blow, you follow along with the parents as they stand up and depart the uncomfortable bleachers. You line up right with them as they all take a piece of paper from each stack on that white plastic table. You thumb through what you just picked up as the boys do some team huddle. Medical clearance, league rules, team handbook, a team / player picture form, uniform payment, travel schedule.

“Damn,” you say softly to yourself as you take it all in.

Your eyes widen slightly as you see the prices on the pictures and the cost of the uniforms. Not to mention the gas your car will burn through traveling. Some of these places were an hour and a half away. Unfortunately, you may have to ask your parents for help. Sure, your dad pays you too much for your little job, but kids are expensive. Most of your paycheck goes toward food. You didn't realize boys never stopped eating.

“Hello, I'm Coach Jeon,” the tall tattooed man says, introducing himself. “Nicky is our only new player this year, and it's nice seeing fresh faces. I just wanted to say that he did an awesome job today, and I’m looking forward to working with him more.”

“That's great,” you say, looking for your nephew who is getting his bag around.

“He's going to fit in perfectly,” he says, smiling brightly at you, easing your worries. “Have a good evening.”

You give him an awkward smile and wave as he walks away. That made you feel good about your decision. He was going to fit in perfectly. He wasn’t going to be the new weird kid with no parents. He was making friends. He was making a new life. You were making a new life, and for once, you weren't going to mess up. Despite the odds being against you. Despite your mother not believing in you. You were going to be the best damn pseudo parent ever.

Hopefully.

《Chapter Two》

A/N 2 : As of right now, I don't know how many chapters this will be. I will update the story masterlist as I go.

Tagged Readers:

@busanbby-jjk , @ jajabro, @wobblewobble822 , @mintedagustd , @yoongiiuu93, @jincapableoflove , @redragdoll, @seoullove96

[harrysmimi]

I Will Always Love You

Coffee And Pancakes series P15

Synopsis: Harry tries to lighten up YN's mood

Series Masterlist | More of my work

It was Sunday. Bright and sunny morning.

Harry was the first to wake up today as it was a day off for his fiance. He knew she was already in a bad mood because of what happened yesterday, she was already off to sleep when he came back home from studio.

Now he doesn't know what exactly happened, it was a family drama she said. All he knows is that she is furious about one thing and one thing only.

So he woke up early and put together her favourite breakfast for her. Something to cheer her up the first thing in the morning. YN was still sleeping in so he decided to go wake her up.

"Hey baby, you wanna wake up?" He sat down on the edge of their bed so he can lean over and kiss her forehead. "It's already half past eleven."

"Hmm?" She sounded half asleep.

"You wanna wake up?" Harry asked again.

"Hmm!" She nodded.

"I made you breakfast, will wait for you in kitchen." He pressed another kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you!" She yawned, and hugged him tight.

"You good, my love?" He asked, caressing her back.

"I am, I am." She assured him though he isn't quite assured.

Harry let her do her thing, giving her space so she can go upto him and talk about it. He busied himself with breakfast duty.

"Good morning, baby!" He sang in a cheery tone seeing his fiancé. Her hair was damp and she had already gotten back into her pajamas.

"Morning." She smiled. Or at least tried to.

"What's wrong, darling?" He enquired finally.

"Nothing really," she shrugged and helped him take food out to the table.

"You still want to go see the new houses later on today baby?" He asked as they both sat down.

"Yeah."

"Hey, I can see something is wrong. Just tell me, please!" He pulled his chair closer to hers.

"Can we like, uhhhh, like uninvite my parents and especially my grandmother from the wedding? I, I, I just want it to be my brother, his wife and their kids." She shared. Harry could see the tears pooling up in her eyes.

"You want to tell me what happened, love?" He somehow found a way to move closer to her.

"I shouldn't have asked my mum and grandma to come along. I found a dress I liked, but she said it would look like she's going to my funeral not my wedding just 'cause it was white." Harry could see she was trying so hard not to start sobbing, her bottom lip quivered as she looked down, she is clearly so hurt by her grandma's statement.

"Hey, whatever she said must have been to spite you baby." He tried to console her, "if you don't them at our wedding we don't have to invite them, okay? I promise."

"I don't know why she hates me so much!" She sighed, "she talks bad about us too, I can't take that."

"You know, people are going to hate but we know the truth, right?" He took her hand to gesture her to sit on his lap so he can hug her, which she did. "What else did she say to get you so hurt, hmm?"

"She said why are you putting so much effort into this he's gonna leave you anyway..." And she started sobbing.

"You know you're not getting rid of me so easily, don't you?" He squeezed her tighter, "I am so sorry she said that, YN. And let me tell you, you're the best thing that's happened to me. While I know it's not going to be always rainbow and sunshine but I know we can beat the odds and just grow stronger. I don't know why she thinks I'd leave the love of my life, like ever, but what I do know is I love you and I wanna spend rest of my days with you as my partner. I love you too much!"

"I love you too!" She managed to say between her cries.

"You still want to get that white dress you love so much?" He asked.

"Mhmm."

"And you still wanna eat?"

"Yes, I am hungry." She nodded again. "I will just go wash my face."

"Yeah, you do that baby, but hurry up your food it getting cold." He placed a soft kiss on the apple of her cheek.

The rest of the morning YN spent sulking around though she did eat her food. She even took a big fat nap on the sofa while watching her favourite series on Netflix. Harry did not bother her, he in fact cancelled their appointment with the realtor and scheduled it for the next day. He is instead going to take her out dinner tonight.

Now he doesn't know if that's all that happened or did her but she made sure not to take her grandmother to the next appointment for dress shopping.

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @onlyangelrain @supersanelyromantic @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @sofia-faustina @stylesfever @reputationolivia @kittenhere

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Last Christmas | Bucky Barnes x Reader, previous Steve Rogers x Reader

After kissing Steve during Christmas 2022 the events of the second snap create distance. Feeling burnt and unloved you try to make things work, but it's too late. You gave him your heart, and he's given his away to another, leaving you in 2023 alone. But there's someone else who hasn't given up on you and, maybe, it's worth giving your heart away to someone special.

Warnings: Steve is the bad guy, anti-Steggy, heartbreak, angst, reader drinks her feelings a bit, fluff, kissing. Liberties have been taken with the order of versus, it's creative lisence, okay? F for fluffy. C for Christmas.

A/N: I listened to Last Christmas twice a day for the last 18 days and now here we are. I think I got the dates right, who knows. I was going to post this on Friday, or even next Monday nearer to Christmas but I got excited so...Bon appetit.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

Last Christmas I gave you my heart,

But the very next day you gave it away.

This year, to save me from tears,

I'll give it to someone special.

Christmas 2022

Steve's lips met yours with the taste of mulled wine and expensive champagne. The neat lines of his suit jacket folded under your hands, tugging him closer.

Above you both a huge wreath of mistletoe lined the doorway, twinkling fairy lights falling artfully into the entrance and your smile was so wide you could barely contain it. Finally, finally you were together.

You'd told him how you felt, how you've loved him for years and you were so proud of him and then - he'd kissed you, and your heart soared.

"Steve," you breathed, a prayer, a promise, everything you'd asked for all for you. You had been so patient all year, so good and slow and quiet, and now you had everything you needed.

"I have to go, sweetheart, but I'll call you and we can go out properly. I promise."

He'd kissed you on the cheek one last time before disappearing into the night, leaving you alone under the mistletoe, full of promise.

Although the date never materialised you tried to be understanding. So much had happened, aliens and invasions. Five years prior it had felt like the world ending and now somehow here you were again, watching the man you loved on a battlefield, hundreds of miles away.

That had been a week ago. The footage still playing on every news outlet.

But he hadn't called.

He never called.

He never text or emailed or DM'd or IM'd or bothered at all. And now the kiss, everything it had meant to you, tasted sour.

You'd given him your entire heart and you thought when he kissed you back, that meant he was giving you his.

Tony Stark was dead.

Crowded room, friends with tired eyes.

Hiding from you and your soul of ice

My Gosh, I thought you were someone to rely on

Me? I guess I was a shoulder to cry on.

It had been kept out of the press for as long as possible.

But he was dead.

His funeral had been a private affair, not for the lowly likes of regular old Stark Towers staff and so you hadn't been invited. You had, in your love sick state, driven out to find Steve and try to offer him some comfort.

He'd text you to say he was struggling, and you'd been as supportive as you could be, texting him back in the middle of the night, answering when he called. You'd asked if he wanted you to come to the funeral, but you said no, you offered to be around, but he hadn't left more than a few sparse details leaving you hanging around the small town near Stark's home until you spotted the mourners.

But there was nothing to offer. You tried to kiss his cheek in greeting but he pulled away and shame washed over you.

The Falcon, Sam, and Steve's friend Bucky who you recognised from the news as well, had told you he'd been strange lately and not to worry when they found you hovering on the outskirts of the wake.

It was only when Sam went to speak to Pepper that Bucky spoke again.

Despite what the press said he looked friendly enough, as confused and lost as the rest. You knew he'd been blipped and that must have been bad enough without aliens, wars and deaths. But he still offered you a warm smile. It was the same smile you'd seen in the picture of him on Steve's desk, a portrait of him in his uniform. It was a little more worn now, a few more lines around his eyes, and his hair was long and unkempt, not like the neat coif in his photograph.

But you recognised him all the same.

"Walk with me around the lake a bit?" He suggested, offering his arm.

You refused, tracking yours eyes back to where Steve was staring out at the water where Pepper Potts and a little girl were sitting on a dock.

"I need to tell you something, it's going to sound crazy and you can't tell anyone. But you came all this way and -" Bucky stopped, looking at Sam, Pepper, the gathering of secret superheros.

"I think I can believe in crazy." You said, a lump already forming in your throat.

"He's going to leave."

"Steve?"

"He's going to go back."

"Back?"

"To Peggy."

Peggy. The ghost that haunted you, the woman you'd never be, could never be, never wanted to be. Everything was always - Peggy.

Peggy looked great in red. Peggy always wore lipstick. Peggy loved to dance.

You were never going to get your dance, it always belonged to her.

"I see." You ducked your head to hide your tears, spilling hot and fast down your face.

"I'm really sorry, I thought it'd be best -"

"No, no it is, thank you, I appreciate it."

You went to wipe your eye on your sleeve, but Bucky pulled a packet of tissues from his pocket and handed you one.

"Thanks," you managed a small, polite, smile and dried the tracks of mascara from your cheeks.

"Take my number, in case you need anything, I hate to think - well - I don't think it's right, if that means anything, I don't agree and he knows that."

Bucky handed you a slip of paper folded in half, peeking inside he'd obviously pre-written a small note to the same effect, signing in a wide messy scrawl. But the numbers printed below were neat.

"I've got a place in Brooklyn, Steve said you live on Staten Island? I'm staying near Fort Hamilton, so if you need anything. Just call. Or text. Or whatever it is people like to do now." He gave you a shy smile, pink dusting the tops of his cheeks and his ears.

"That's very generous. Thank you."

You tucked the paper into the inside pocket of your purse and looked at Steve one last time.

"I think I'm going to go. Thanks, Bucky, maybe see you around?"

You'd text Bucky once, drunk, and he replied asking if you needed help.

Once bitten and twice shy.

I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye.

In your pain you hadn't replied and had woken to a series of worried messages. You deleted the texts the next day and tried to forget about him.

Bucky text you too, to let you know he was going out of town but you could still reach him if you liked.

Then radio silence.

You saw him once, drinking beer with a beautiful woman in a sushi bar and for a moment you felt a flush of jealousy. But you kept walking so he didn't see you.

Life was hard enough without making it complicated and the last thing you needed was to get yourself hung up on another stupid 1940s, jumped up, selfish, super soldier asshole. You didn't know him, but he was Steve's best friend. How different could they be.

You left Stark Industries.

You deleted your contacts.

But you left the little note folded in your bedside draw and called yourself a fool every time you saw it, tucked between your passport and an old notebook.

Well, it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me.

Tell me baby, do you recognise me?

Christmas 2023

Bucky didn't text again until the winter, snow attempting to fall but hitting salty air and heating grates. The sidewalk covered in slush.

Your phone buzzed, unnoticed, in your pocket until you made it home.

1:32pm - Hi, don't know if you'd be interested but Sam's holding a holiday party at his place in Louisiana. There'll be some old faces. You're welcome to come.

2:01pm - Sorry, it's Bucky Barnes. Don't know if you kept my number.

2:03pm - At Sam Wilson's house. The Falcon. You met at Stark's funeral?

4:48 - I'm getting a lift from Washington with this guy Torres. You can join us if you want.

4:49 - On us, of course. I heard you left Stark Tower

5:00 - I didn't mean to imply you didn't work

5:01 - I'm sorry, Sam says I'm really bad at this. Forget I bothered you. Merry Christmas

You spent a week dithering about a reply until one of your new colleagues at S.W.O.R.D told you you were being stupid.

Tickets to Louisiana weren't too expensice and you had Sam's address from some of Steve's old things anyway. Would it be crazy to just turn up?

Sam's house was lit up by strings of warm white lights. Out along the sea coast of Louisiana the air was crisp. The day had been fine enough but now the sun had set it was getting cold and goosebumps erupted along your arms.

Face on another with a fire in his heart.

A man under cover but you tore me apart.

Maybe you should have RSVP'd properly, but you hadn't really, truly, convinced yourself you were going to turn up. Your hotel in town was very comfortable and you could go back any time. If it was weird and no one recognised you it would be easy enough to -

"You made it!" Bucky called, spotting you across the garden, hiding by the Magnolia.

The whole garden has a magical wildness to it, the tent in the centre emanating light, music, the smell of food and the sound of happy laughter. It was a welcome change from the cold bite of winter back home.

"Hi, I wasn't sure if I was going to come -"

"I thought I'd come over in case you didn't recognise me -"

You spoke over each other, tripping on the words awkwardly, dancing around the half hug, half handshake you'd initiated.

He did look different, happier, honestly. His long hair was shorter again, though not as neat as in Steve's photograph. There was a softness to the way it curled behind his ears, slightly longer on top.

"I like your new haircut," you motioned upwards, almost spilling the contents of your bag with the too quick gesture.

Bucky ran his hand through it, the metal glinting in the light, and mussed it up further.

"Thanks, just, you know, finding myself again. How've you been, sorry I wasn't in touch more."

"Oh, you know, finding myself again." You didn't mean for it to sound so sad.

Bucky was serious for a moment, "he was being an asshole, trust me," then his face brightened and he gestured to the sound of glasses clinking, "can I get you a drink, let me introduce you to some people."

For the first time in a long time, you felt a real smile tugging at your lips and, when he offered you his arm, you took it.

Christmas 2024

Ooh, ooh, now I've found a real love,

You'll never fool me again.

When Bucky text, you answered.

When you got sad and drunk, he turned up.

You found yourself seeing him more and more.

He took you for sushi in the spring, ducking and hiding under the canopies of shops to avoid the rain bouncing back up off the tarmac.

In the summer you went to Coney Island where you refused to ride anything because it looked too scary and, instead, ate so much cotton candy you were almost sick on the bus ride home.

In the autumn you rode out on his bike to upstate New York to see the colours change on the trees. You ate pie in a diner by the side of the road and he made sure your helmet was fastened correctly. As you rode home, you imagined you could go back to his place instead of spending the rest of the evening alone.

Your heart had begun to race whenever you saw his name light up your phone. Your camera roll filling up with pictures of you together. And when he invited you out ice skating under the Brooklyn bridge, you said yes.

Christmas 2025

This year, to save me from tears,

I'll give it to someone special.

"I'm so glad you agreed to come with me." Bucky beamed up at you from the floor where he was tying the laces on your skates .

"I like spending time with you, Bucky." You said, quietly. "I'm a terrible skater though." You admitted, letting him pull you to your feet.

"Oh good, I was hoping you'd say that." He grinned, turning as he stepped onto the ice to face you, "you'll have to hold onto me."

You laughed, letting him tow you gently along, circling the ice. It was already dark, the lights circling the rink reflected in the ice and Bucky's eyes, sparkling with happiness. Your breath misted in front of you when you huffed in frustration at slipping, but Bucky only held you tighter.

He bumped into the end barrier, distracted by the way you looked when your head ducked to see your feet, murmuring his instructions to yourself on how to keep going.

You followed, crashing into him, hands pressed into his chest.

"Sorry," Bucky's cheeks were pink again, from the cold or your closeness you couldn't tell. But his hands came to rest on your hips, keeping you close despite the fact you felt like you were going to slip. For a moment all you could see were the lights and Bucky, he smelt sweet with a hint of whisky from the spiked hot chocolates you'd had before it was your turn on the ice, and you couldn't think of anything nicer.

Without another thought you lifted your chin and kissed him, slowly at first, but then he tightened his grip and pulled you closer, taking your weight so you didn't fall.

I'll give it to someone special

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 10]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

Chapter warning(s): Mentions of the boys' one night stands outside of the house, Mingi is flirty

Usually, Hongjoong would have been cooped up in his office the entire morning. The others were used to seeing him skip breakfast. So it was weird when they saw him sitting in the second floor lounge, going over papers.

"What's wrong with your office?" Seonghwa asked. Even he was curious as to why the captain was out here.

"There's nothing wrong with my office. I'm just sitting out here for a change of environment." Hongjoong wasn't the best at lying, especially to his best friend.

"Whatever you say..." Seonghwa wasn't convinced but he was hungry and wanted breakfast.

"Can you ask them to send me another coffee when you're down there?" Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa nodded and headed downstairs.

"Morning, hyung." Those that were having their breakfast in the dining room greeted the oldest.

"Morning. Send Hongjoong another coffee. Second floor lounge." He acknowledged the others then gave Hongjoong's order to the maid. She bowed and ran to the kitchen to make Hongjoong's coffee.

"How was Mingi's race last night? I didn't hear anything from him." Seonghwa asked Yunho. Yunho merely shrugged.

"I have no idea, I haven't heard from him either. But considering how he isn't in his room, I'm guessing he stayed out the whole night, probably to celebrate a win. You know those girls like to glue themselves to him." Yunho chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. Seonghwa hummed and ate his breakfast.

"Mr Park, the physician is here. Shall I let him in?" The butler came in, informing Seonghwa with a bow.

"Yes, wake San and let him know then bring to doctor to his room directly." Seonghwa replied. The butler nodded and bowed before leaving the dining room.

"Was it that bad?" Jongho asked.

"The opponent last night clocked him bad. We just want to make sure there's nothing internal that's too serious." Yeosang informed.

"I've got to go, got a meeting with my contractor for the new casino. Have a nice day everyone." Wooyoung jumped up, grabbing his suit jacket off the chair and running out of the room.

"Wooyoung hyung's been so busy with the casino nearing completion." Jongho noted.

"From what I saw last time, it's coming together nicely though. San's still going through the investors that you put together for him. Everyone seems to want a stake, the two did a good job in securing the lot since it's in prime real estate." Seonghwa said.

"That's a good breakfast. Now it's time to go to work." Yunho stretched and stood up to take his leave.

"There's a car coming in. Open the gates." They all heard Hongjoong come down the stairs, announcing to the mansion staff. Turning their heads, they saw the captain jog past.

"What visitor does hyung have?" Yeosang asked. Seonghwa shrugged but did look at the door way curiously.

"(y/n)! You're here." Hongjoong greeted you at the door.

"Hongjoong, good morning." You bowed. Honestly, you were still trying to keep your shock and awe to a minimum upon seeing this place, it was huge.

"Your drive way is very long. Luckily I took a cab or else I would have had to walk." You chuckled.

"Ah, sorry about that. I should have told you. But anyway, I would have gone to pick you or send a car over." Hongjoong said.

"I'm just kidding. It's no worries at all." You removed your shoes. Hongjoong walked before you, leading you further into the house. The maids and butlers that crossed your paths bowed to you and Hongjoong. It was awkward for you so you just bowed back, compared to Hongjoong who just continued ahead.

"(y/n) sshi, you're our new gardener?" Yunho's eyebrows raised in surprise as he greeted you, as if this was the first time he knew that you were going to be the gardener.

"Temporarily. I overheard Hongjoong needing one so I offered my help." You explained.

"Ah, I see. I guess it's good to know our garden is in the safe hands of an expert." Yunho complimented.

"I'm not an expert but thank you for thinking so highly of me." You smiled kindly. Hongjoong cast a slightly suspicious look at you then at Yunho, then back to you.

"So, the garden is this way." Hongjoong intercepted. You hummed and followed him out the glass doors to the back garden.

"Wow... It looks even better in person." You gasped.

"All the work of the landscaper when we got here and all the other gardeners that have worked here. I'll be honest, none of us here are really good with plants. It's just nice to look at so we decided to keep it and maintain it." Hongjoong rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ah, I see. I'll take note of that." You chuckled.

"Also, if you need anything, any extra tools or equipment, go ahead and get them. We'll reimburse you, you shouldn't pay out of your own pocket." Hongjoong smiled a little.

"Thank you. I'll just survey the garden now." You bowed your head awkwardly and stepped up.

"Isn't that..." Jongho tilted his head.

"Mhmm." Yunho nodded as they all gathered there, keeping their distance but still observing you and Hongjoong in the back garden. Seonghwa remained indifferent.

"You did this... Didn't you?" Seonghwa looked up at the tallest. Yunho merely shrugged in response but his smile was enough of a reply.

"Is it okay for her to be here?" Yeosang asked. No one replied to that, Seonghwa was too busy analysing.

When you looked up from where you were observing the plants, you looked behind Hongjoong to see his 4 friends or brothers standing there, staring at the two of you. Suddenly, you became so self aware and self conscious. Hongjoong followed your line of sight and turned around to see the 4 there.

"I'm good on my own, Hongjoong. If you're needed somewhere else..." You cleared your throat. Hongjoong nodded stiffly, realising he was just standing there with nothing much to add anyway.

"If you need anything, just let me know. Or let any of the staff know." He said. You hummed and watched as he headed back in.

"What are you guys doing?" Hongjoong asked.

"I should be asking you that. Since when were you close enough to her to ask her to be our gardener?" Seonghwa raised a questioning eyebrow. Hongjoong shrugged.

"We're not close. She overheard that we needed a new gardener and volunteered to help temporarily." Hongjoong explained.

"Oh, she overheard coincidentally?" Seonghwa shot Yunho a look, who looked away innocently.

"What?" Hongjoong blinked in confusion.

"Nothing. Just... be smart about this. Inform the others about her being here. I don't want to imagine what will happen to her if she sees us drag a corpse out there or something." Seonghwa said. Everyone nodded and Seonghwa went up to his office.

"Is this why you were working outside today, hyung? Waiting for her arrival?" Jongho nudged the captain. Hongjoong shot Jongho a dirty look and pushed his arm away.

"Of course not. I just needed more breathing space. My office was getting too stuffy." Hongjoong said.

"Sure..."

"Don't you all have work to do?" Hongjoong barked.

"Alright, alright. Geez, hyung. No need to shout." Yunho winced and covered his ears. They didn't realise that you were looking at them the entire time.

"They're an odd bunch." You noted to yourself as you inspected the plants in the plots.

"So are you going to be working outside the whole day, hyung?" Yeosang asked. Hongjoong glared at them and they all scurried away.

"Listen, if she needs anything, get it for her. Drinks, snacks, whatever, you understand?" Hongjoong turned to the butler. The butler nodded and bowed respectfully as Hongjoong went back upstairs. He gathered the files and papers that he had left in the lounge and returned back to his office.

With his coffee in his hand, he pulled back the curtains behind his chair, letting in all the light from the big window. And Hongjoong's eyes immediately found you.

"She's something else." He says to himself as he sees you used your fingers to dig through the soil.

All the other girls he has come across never liked getting their hands dirty but you so enthusiastically touched the dirt with bare hands.

"These two should not be planted next to each other." You noted, looking at the herb garden that was there. You assumed that it was for those that cooked on the estate.

"No wonder you're dying." You pouted a little, talking to the plant as you touched the wilting leaf.

"Miss, please help yourself to some refreshments and snacks. If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to let us know." A butler came out with a tray of items and a small, foldable table tucked under his arm.

"Thank you! Let me help you." You rushed over to help him unfold the lawn table he had with him. He seemed surprised that you had dropped what you were doing and came over to help him.

"Oh, miss. Don't worry, I can handle it." He bowed repeatedly but you took the tray from him politely.

"It's okay." You giggled and put the tray down on the table.

"Thank you so much, miss." He bowed deeply and poured the drink from the job into the glass for you. You smiled and received the glass, taking a sip.

"Ah, wait. There is something. Do you know if anyone uses the herb garden out here?" You asked him before he left.

"I'm not sure. Let me check with the kitchen." He said and went back into the house.

"So there is a kitchen crew here." You mumbled to yourself. You sipped the cold, fruit tea that was prepared. It was very delicious and refreshing while standing out in the sun.

"Miss, I have asked and the chef said that he used to take from the herb garden but lately, the herbs have not been in very good condition and they are not as fragrant as before so he has not been havesting." The butler came out, informing you. You nodded with a hum and thanked him.

"Looks like we have to repot and add some new plants while I try to revive these other ones." You said to yourself, making a mental note.

"So, how bad is it?" A voice came behind you. You straightened up and turned around to see one of men there. You didn't recognise him or knew his name.

"Hello. Nice to meet you. It's not that bad, just need to move the plants around." You bowed respectfully.

"That's good to hear. My name is Seonghwa. (y/n), right?" He tilted his head.

"Yes. Nice to meet you, Seonghwa sshi." You awkwardly bowed again. He exuded so much confidence and power, plus he was so elegantly beautiful, you couldn't take your eyes off him.

"Thank you for helping us. Hongjoong said you volunteered to be our gardener." Seonghwa said.

"Oh, no need to thank. Any chance to work with plants in such a big garden." You shook your head. Maybe you didn't know him but there was an intimidating aura around him. Seonghwa was purposely trying to psych you out.

Just in case you had any ulterior motive in being here and getting close to Hongjoong. He didn't know that Hongjoong was the one constantly seeking you out.

"Do you need anything so far?" Seonghwa asked.

"Not at the moment. I didn't bring my tools with me but I will the next time. Hopefully to revive the herb garden." You said.

"What is Hwa doing?" Hongjoong's eyes widened when he turned to the window and saw Seonghwa standing there, talking to you. You were shifting on your feet, looking a little frightened.

"What's a pretty girl doing out here?" A deep voice appeared. Mingi stood there, a smirk on his face.

"No, Mingi ah. No." Seonghwa shook his head. Mingi obviously didn't recognise you from Hongjoong's mother's funeral.

"Selfish." Mingi scoffed but obeyed and headed into the house. Seonghwa sighed and shook his head. Having seen Mingi come, Hongjoong had raced down. Mingi was one of the ones that liked to get flirty with girls. For some reason, he didn't like the idea of Mingi trying to flirt with you.

"Was that Mingi?" Hongjoong lied and acted nonchalant, trying to hide the fact that he was panting from how fast he ran down the stairs. You blinked in confusion at his behaviour.

"Yes, why? He just got home." Seonghwa raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I... Uh, needed to ask him something... So, (y/n), how's the garden?" Hongjoong changed the subject.

"It's alright. My plan is to revive the herb garden and some stuff need to be moved around, they shouldn't be grown together. And some of them are planted in the wrong soil." You explained.

"I guess the gardener before you wasn't as good as we thought." Hongjoong joked.

"They're common mistakes, I guess." You chuckled.

"Didn't you have to find Mingi?" Seonghwa cleared his throat as he reminded Hongjoong. Hongjoong nodded stiffly, giving Seonghwa a suspicious glance.

"See you later, (y/n)." Hongjoong said. You waved as he went back into the house. Seonghwa didn't stay too long too since you just went back to what you were doing. Honestly, it was awkward to have any conversation with him so you focussed on the plants.

"Mingi ah. You don't recognise her?" Hongjoong asked. Mingi shook his head, a look of confusion on his face.

"She's the girl that was at my mother's funeral... The one that knew her..." Hongjoong reminded.

"Oh! Oh... I didn't recognise her. I've only seen her like once, hyung. I barely remember all the girls that hang with us." Mingi shrugged. Hongjoong facepalmed.

"Whatever but no flirting, okay? She's here to be our temporary gardener, that's all." Hongjoong lectured.

"Yeah, yeah, captain. I get it, she's off limits." Mingi waved him off.

"I was going to tell everyone about her being here and working in the house tonight but I guess I should tell everyone now." Hongjoong sighed and took his phone out to send a text to the group.

"And Mingi, no weapons, no blood, nothing of that sort on the days she's here." Hongjoong said.

"Yes, captain." Mingi saluted and went to the kitchen to find some food since he was a little hungover from partying all night.

"The doctor's done with San." Seonghwa came and informed Hongjoong. The captain nodded and headed upstairs with his second in command to check on their brother. Seonghwa knocked on San's door lightly before the two of them entered. San was against the headboard, with an annoyed look on his face.

"Oh, hyungs. It's the two of you. I thought it was that annoying doctor again." San rolled his eyes, reading documents on his iPad. Seonghwa shook his head.

"He was just telling you to get bed rest, San ah. Yeosang said you went down bad last night." Seonghwa said.

"I'm fine. It's just some minor injuries, it's normal. I don't need bed rest." San shrugged.

"Just listen to the doctor, San. No fighting for a bit. In the mean time, help Wooyoung out with the casino stuff." Hongjoong instructed. San was going to protest but decided against it.

"Fine." He slumped.

"At least until you've recovered. Oversee things as the owner, just don't participate." Seonghwa told him.

"Easy for you to say, hyung. You get into a motorcycle crash and still continue racing." San glared. Seonghwa's eyes widened but San knew what he was doing.

"You what?" Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa muttered a curse and shot San the stink eye before slowly turning to see Hongjoong there, with his hands on his hips and a disappointed frown on his face. San smiled victoriously, he wasn't going down on his own.

"It wasn't a major crash." Seonghwa sighed.

"Still a crash, nonetheless Hwa! How could you continued racing?" Hongjoong scolded. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and held Hongjoong's shoulder, pushing him out of the room.

"Hongjoong, don't overreact. It was a minor thing. No serious injuries." Seonghwa said.

"Still, you should tell me if you get hurt." Hongjoong said.

"I will, I will. Now please get back to work. I don't want to find you loitering in the garden." Seonghwa teased. Hongjoong squinted his eyes at Seonghwa.

"Don't even go there." He warned and walked back to his office to do work.

If Hongjoong was worried about you, he could just periodically check in on you from his office window. No, not creepy at all.

"Luckily I have my spade at least." You sighed in relief as you dug through the soil to uproot one of the plants. You felt bad for creating such a mess and getting the soil onto the pavement. But you needed to move the plants, you would have to help them clean up the pavements later when you're done.

"There you go. Welcome to your new home." You smiled as you placed the plant into the new hole you dug, shovelling the soil over the roots and lightly packing it down.

"Excuse me, where's the bathroom?" You entered the house.

"Let me take you, miss." The maid bowed and led you down one of the hallways. She opened the bathroom door for you.

"Thanks." You smiled and entered. The first thing you did was wash your hands thoroghly, not wanting to drop any dirt or soil on the ground of the house.

When you were done with the bathroom, you stepped out and almost bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed and bowed repeatedly. The man shot you an odd look. He was covered in injuries.

"It's fine." He mumbled and walked past you, continuing on his way. Even if you didn't know him, it was concerning to see someone so badly hurt. Was he in a fight? Or did he get beaten up?

"Miss, do you need help getting back to the garden?" A maid came up to you when she saw you standing there in the hallway. You lied and nodded your head. With a small smile, she led you back to where the backyard was.

"Thanks." You smiled gratefully and went back to the area you were initially working on.

"Yunho sshi?" You blinked, seeing him stand there, looking at the hole in the soil that you had dug up previously.

"Why are you digging holes?" He asked.

"Some of the plants are in the wrong soil or shouldn't be grown next to each other so I'm trying to move them. I can't do it all today but I'll start plot by plot." You explained.

"Isn't all soil the same? It's dirt." He stated. There was such a confused look on his face as he tilted his head at you.

"A lot of people think all soil is the same, just dirt. But there are different nutrition levels, the way they retain water, all that differs from soil to soil. Even how they pack around the roots." You giggled.

"Oh... If all the soil here is the same, our gardeners before you must really suck." Yunho clicked his tongue.

"Hongjoong said the same thing earlier too but all I can say is, being a gardener isn't as easy as it seems." You shrugged.

"You're too humble, (y/n)." Yunho smiled charmingly. The two of you burst out laughing. You were unaware that Yunho sent a small wave to someone who was watching your entire interaction from his office window.

~

Series masterlist

[amongemeraldclouds]

sparks fly

Camping with Mattheo to celebrate the new year leads to a different type of firework show (fluff).

Mattheo Riddle x gf!Reader (modern au)

A/N: I live in a place where winter is mild and completely forgot it's too cold to go camping for some places rn. Suspend your belief for this fic! In this setting, it's still perfect camping weather.

Warning: smut implied in the end.

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist | 965 words

The holidays at the Riddle's can be delicately summed up in one word: complicated. Christmas dinner was composed of tight-lipped conversation and awkward silences that made the entire affair feel more like a funeral than a party. The Riddle estate was majestic and imposing, the way a museum was rather than a home.

Thankfully, your New Year's celebration was up to you. Having had more than enough of your fair share of family drama, you proposed a getaway just for you and Mattheo. All he said was, "what would I do without you?" To which you replied with, "run out of fingernails to chew before we ring in the new year. Can't let that happen now, can I? I rather like all of you, fingernails and all."

To reach the campsite on time, you agreed to leave at 6AM. Mattheo in his gloriously nocturnal ways, decided to power through the evening and early hours of the morning so he'd make it on time. His bleary eyes and messy curls, adorable as they were, alarmed you.

You volunteered to take the first shift driving instead with a casual, "ladies first". With a festive playlist on blast and your offkey-but-passionate singing, the holidays were in full swing.

Leaning over to smile at Mattheo, you found his head tilted to one side of his shoulder, mouth hanging in peaceful slumber. You couldn't help but stop on the side of the road to take a picture for your growing collection of your boyfriend's silliest moments. The boy with a mean scowl and a penchant for danger let his guard down with you and it warmed your heart.

Your hands shook as you tried to stifle your giggles, careful not to wake him. You smiled in triumph when the photo was safely tucked into your camera roll.

The rest of the drive consisted of more singing, breathtaking sceneries, and exchanging horror stories with Mattheo when he finally woke up and took over the drive.

You tried to one up each other, going for darker and gorier tales. The sunrays painted them lighter and tamer than they actually were, but you'd find out soon just how scary they were when the sun hid behind the moon.

Setting up camp only required muscle memory at this point. You had been on so many camping adventures with Mattheo yet they were always as enjoyable as the first time.

You grilled meats and potatoes for dinner, while enjoying champagne and small treats as you cooked. Needless to say, your hearts and bellies were as full as holiday celebrations deemed they should be.

As you wound down for the night and settled into the tent, the silence amplified cricket chirps and rustling in the trees, sending a chill down your spine. Images of your horror stories from the drive flashed through your mind. Your panic swung into full gear when your light source went out, engulfing you in darkness. A strangled yelp escaped from your throat.

Your eyes searched in the dark only to be met by a sudden blinding light and the distorted features of Mattheo, as he held the flashlight under his chin. "Boo!"

Between fight or flight, your instinct was always going to be to fight. Before you could process what was happening, you lunged at Mattheo, knocking the flashlight to the ground.

It was Mattheo's turn to yelp at your sudden movements and he pressed his hands up in surrender. "You know I love your fiery spirit, but right now you're scarier than all those ghosts we talked about."

You laughed at his sudden admission. It still caught you off guard how much more of himself he could be around you. It set him off too, your laughter was infectious and it's his favourite sound. You rested your head on his chest as you laughed together, shoulders shaking and breath heaving. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

As your laughter faded, Mattheo leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Happy new year, love. Thanks for setting this all up."

"Better than Christmas?"

He rolled his eyes, "please, even Snape's lecture is better than Christmas with my family. This is way better."

You moved up then to kiss him and Mattheo caught the way the flashlight cast your shadows across the tent. He smirked, an idea forming in his head.

"I know that smile. What kind of nonsense are we getting into this time?" You matched his smile as you rested your arms on his chest.

His smirk grew wide to a full grin as he traced his finger playfully down your arm, sending electric sparks all the way down to your toes.

"Watch our shadows," he says, pointing to the silhouettes across you.

"You want to do shadow puppets?" You asked, moving your hands together to mimic a bird, just like you did as a child.

"Even better," he said, pausing for effect, "we can watch our shadows fucking."

You giggled at how silly it was, a wave of giddiness washing through you. Of course with Mattheo it would always turn sexual at some point, igniting your own desires in response to his. "So we can have our own firework show here?"

"You get the vision!" He responds, pulling you in for a kiss. It was so familiar by now the way your lips moved, knowing just where they fit against each other. Yet every moan and every gasp felt brand new. The champagne buzzed in your veins, burning with the intoxication of your desires.

You grinned when you both broke up for air, "well then love, let's make it one heck of a show."

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he looked into your eyes. "That's my girl!" It was a happy new year indeed.

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist

Credit: Divider by @strangergraphics

A/N: Funny how this grew from HC, to blurb, to now a full blown fic. Love it!