#the true definition of a rental

[tiger-balm]

Has anyone ever been traded and then in free agency immediately go and sign back with their original team?

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Lies and Butterflies

Joshua Hong x Fem!Reader

Genre: fake dating au; mostly fluff.

Word Count: 19.2k

Warnings: injuries & blood (injury is not explicitly described). joking death threats made between friends. mentions of drinking and alcoholic beverages. lying to parental figures. reader is written as single and desperate and moderately unwise (she’s actually me).

[Series: Serenity Street 17] Your roommate begged you to pretend to date him while his mom is in town for the month. The little crush you’ve had on him will either become your best friend or worst obstacle on this quest.

note: the fact that this fic came out as longer than my master's degree thesis will never not amaze me.

Your friends thought you were a naive fool for moving into Serenity Street 17, apartment 3A. Not because the neighbourhood or building was bad (if anything, they often commented about how cosy it was), but because you signed the rental agreement knowing full well you’d be sharing an apartment with a man you didn’t know. 

In your defence, you’d been hesitant to do so. However, after several reassuring comments from the building manager about how your roommate would be a perfectly sweet young gentleman (but mostly the influence of the looming end of your old rental agreement with a remaining budget from hell), you had done the insane thing and signed the agreement.

Fortunately, Joshua Hong, your new roommate, seemed like a true angel at first sight – both visually and metaphorically. Upon your arrival, he’d spent the entire weekend helping you move the heavy boxes and unbox everything (all the while you were trying your hardest to not feel weak at the sight of his gorgeous face and straining biceps). He assured you repeatedly that he’d do the dishes and cook for himself. He sent you off to work every morning with a sweet smile, a wave and a thermos full of hot coffee to start your day. 

You’d quickly learn why the neighbourhood aunties called him “Serenity Street’s gentleman”. And at first you thought he truly deserved the title.

That is until you had lived with him for a month and realised he was the dictionary definition of unpredictable. Sure, he wasn’t completely insane and most of the time he was truly the perfect roommate (as well as eye candy), but the moments when he did unleash his inner demons? Even now, many months later, you were still trying to decide if that side of him amused or scared you.

It was to the point where you and Chan, your neighbour from across the hall, had started keeping a shared list of Joshua’s wildest moments (a tradition which several of your other friends in the building soon joined). 

For one, there was the time when he decided to perform EXO’s ‘Love Shot’ with a truly unhinged choreography at the building’s monthly drunk karaoke night. The kicker? He didn’t start drinking until after the cover (probably to bury the shame he felt). 

Or the time when he mistakenly watered a fake plant for weeks and then, upon realising his mistake, proceeded to gaslight himself and everyone you knew that it had at one point been a real plant and someone must have snuck into the apartment to replace it with an identical fake one (you didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was fooling no one (but Minghao had been more than happy to share the news with him for you )).

There was also, of course, the time when he had a life-sized cardboard cut-out of himself made to decorate the living room and you couldn’t have reminded him enough of how terrifying of a sight it had been at 4 am on your way to the bathroom. To his credit, he moved the cut-out behind Jeonghan’s apartment door a week later to terrify him instead. Jeonghan has since sworn he’d get back at your roommate for it one day (and you dearly hoped he would).

Needless to say, your roommate had you living on the edge of your seat at all times. So it didn’t surprise you much when he knocked on your bedroom door at 11 pm before walking in and throwing himself head-first onto your bed.

Used to his shenanigans but well-aware of his need for attention, you just sighed and lowered the book you had spent all day looking forward to. “What’s up?”

His response was unintelligible, muffled against the sage green sheets. 

You waited a moment for him to lift his head. Nothing happened. For a moment you wondered if he’d fallen asleep. So you nudged him with your foot. “Shua?”

With a groan, he leaned upwards, resting on his elbows as he stared ahead and told you, “Do you think I’m too single?”

Amused and confused by the question, you blinked rapidly. “Is that even a thing? I think all single people are equally single, no?”

“I haven’t dated anyone in five years,” he told you.

“And?”

“I haven’t gone on a date in three.”

“So?”

“My mom thinks that’s too long.”

You took mild offence to that as you had been left out on the dry shores of Singleness for well over a decade – if your three-day middle-school playground marriage even counted towards this statistic, that is. If Joshua had been single for too long by his mom’s standards, then you surely must have seemed like a completely hopeless case. 

You shook the thought off and tried to seem like a supportive friend (even though your mind and soul were already lost in faraway lands, riding horses with dreamy fictional men that oddly looked like Joshua). “Why does that matter?”

“Because,” he started as if you should know this already, “she wants me to go on a blind date with her friend’s daughter. She wants to discuss it tomorrow over lunch.”

Was it too soon to tell him you sometimes daydreamed of your mom appearing at the door with a handsome young man and demanding you to go on a date with him? Maybe. Was that too desperate? Probably.

“You’re an adult man, Shua,” you told him with a scoff. “Just say no.”

“I can’t say that to my mom!”

“Why not? Because she’d be disappointed and sad?” you guessed, eyeing him with annoyance. 

He widened his eyes and all you saw in his brown irises was pure terror mixed with just a hint of frustration. “She’d lecture me!”

“Oh no,” you didn’t even try to feign any kind of an emotion before lifting your book back to your eye level, eager to get back to your reading where men didn’t trouble you with their mommy issues. “Your mom’s nice. You’ll live.”

“You could try to be more empathetic, you know,” he remarked before resting his cheek on the mattress and sighing. “What are you reading anyway? Another one of your historical romances?”

“And what if it is?” you asked.

“My mom would tell you to get off your ass and get an actual boyfriend.”

“Good thing she’s not my mom then. Men are disappointing and I only like the ones written by women.”

Joshua’s eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me a disappointment right now?”

There were many words you could use to describe Joshua, but a disappointment? – not one of them. Really, the only disappointing thing about the man in front of you was that he thought your valiant flirting attempts over the past six months had been a funny joke. Even if you thought he could be incredibly frustrating, you were not immune to his charms, and everyone but him seemed to know.

Still, if there was anything you liked more than being the sole object of Joshua’s attention, it was getting on his nerves as much as he did yours.

“Absolutely,” you told him with a straight face but your facade fell fast at his offended grimace. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course you’re not a disappointment. I actually like you.”

Would he pick up the hint (and was it even a hint if you were practically confessing your feelings?) … ?

“I hate you,” he mumbled and buried his face back in the sheets.

… No. The answer was no.

Aside from his wild shenanigans, another thing that frustrated you about your roommate to no end was the fact that he. never. read. his. messages. And yet, when he messaged you, he expected an answer ASAP. 

And if you didn’t reply within 2 minutes … ?

Your phone vibrated and rang, his contact photo bright and colourful on your phone screen. You could barely keep back from cursing under your breath before offering your co-workers an apologetic smile and rushing out to the breakroom to answer the call. 

You took a deep calming breath before putting on your best customer service-able smile and speaking into the microphone, “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” came the short reply. Was it just you or did he sound winded? 

As if he could see you through the radio waves, you theatrically glanced around the building before deadpanning, “At work. Like every Tuesday at 1 pm.”

 “Right,” he breathed out after a pause and suddenly you were worried. 

The Joshua you knew never hesitated to match your sarcastic remarks with ones of his own. There was rarely any bite to his words but you appreciated that he at least tried to match your energy (or maybe you had unknowingly matched his and you were fated to meet). But this? This hadn’t been a sarcastic remark.

“Are you okay?” you spoke, tone softening. “Did something happen?”

“You know how I had that lunch thing with mom today?” he asked after a sigh. 

You nodded before realising he couldn’t actually see you. “Yeah?”

“She brought up her friend’s daughter again and I panicked and–” He cut himself off with a laugh but it sounded anything but joyful. No, it sounded frustrated and disbelieving and like he was about five seconds from a mental breakdown. You found yourself holding your breath as you waited for his laughter to stop. When it did, he sighed again. “Can you come home early?”

The answer was obviously no. You couldn’t just leave your job to cater to your roommate's frenzies. You had made it a point to never ask for any unnecessary time off at all, eager to prove yourself at the office. You had only worked here for five months. Besides, you had goals and a dream and–

“Please?” he added. He sounded so soft, so fragile, so worried.

You squeezed your eyes shut and lied to yourself that your boss wouldn’t hate you if you just told him you had a horrible, perhaps borderline ER-worthy migraine and needed to go home ASAP. Or was that too risky? Would he ask for a doctor’s note? What’s the other option?

“If my boss emails you and asks if our apartment was flooded today, you tell him yes and that you almost drowned,” you finally told him, unable to believe you were about to blatantly lie to your boss, before swiping across your screen to end the call. 

“You’re home,” he breathed out when you stepped through the door half an hour later. 

You found him sitting on the living room sofa. He was still wearing his best white shirt and if it weren’t for the mess of hair on his head, he would’ve looked like he had just gotten ready to go out.

You shrugged off your jacket. “I would really like an explanation.”

“Yeah,” he sighed and rubbed his face. “Where do I start? Um… Well, my mom’s coming to stay with us for a month.”

Your jaw dropped. “A month?! Why? Did something happen to her house?”

“No,” he seemed almost pained to tell you so. With a gentle grip on your hand, he led you to sit next to him on the sofa. “You know how she was trying to set me up with her friend’s daughter?”

You nodded, raising a brow. “What about it? Was it, like, an ex or something?”

“Well, no, but,” he took a deep breath and turned to stare at the wall, eyes wide as if he was expecting something to crash as he spoke, “I might have panicked and said something bad.”

“Such as?” you urged, leaning closer.

Getting red in the face, he really looked like the words he needed had wedged themselves in his throat and were rebelling, refusing to come out. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to make even a single sound, but you still heard nothing. 

Your patience was running thinner by the second. “Joshua, I lied to my boss because of you. Spit it out or, I swear to god, I will make that lie a reality and drown you in the bathtub.”

The threat seemed to motivate him plenty. He let out a soft whine before blurting, “I told her I can’t go on a date with Mary because we’re dating.”

This man never failed to surprise, scare and worry you. And this time you were scared for the both of you. “You told her what?! We?! As in you and me?!”

“I’m sorry,” he immediately dropped to his knees in front of you, looking up at you with desperate and terrified sparkling doe eyes. “I wasn’t thinking! I didn’t want to make her feel bad and I panicked and I lied and I swear I’ll make it up to you! Whatever you want! Anything. I am so, so sorry.”

You didn’t even have the words to say. Frozen in your seat, you stared at him, trying your hardest to get your brain to reset so you could discover you simply had fallen asleep at your desk and this was all a dream. Was it a dream or was it a nightmare? You’d decide later.

When you hadn’t responded for nearly a minute, Joshua gently nudged your hand. “Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry, okay?”

But when you still remained silent without even as much as moving your eyes, he quickly added, “I’ll just fess up, yeah? I’ll tell her I panicked and lied and I’ll go on that date. Just please don’t be mad at me, okay?”

You held your hand up to stop him. “It’s fine. I just… I need a moment.”

“Yeah…” He breathed in relief before nodding and agreeing, “Yeah. Anything you want. I’ll…I can…  Do you want water? Tea? I could make cocoa.”

“Just water’s fine,” you told him almost robotically as you stared into space, rubbing your temples as if that would somehow make it easier to process the absolutely bizarre situation you had found yourself in because, no, unfortunately (or fortunately?) this was not a dream. This was your reality.

As he scurried over to the kitchen, you tried to wrap your mind around … well, everything. 

It felt like a cruel joke. All these months of pining after your handsome roommate, making him heart-shaped toast and pancakes, fixing his shirt collar as he prepared to leave for work, practically flat-out confessing to him – and here he was, practically throwing himself at you. 

But none of it was real. He wasn’t actually into you. It was just a panicked reaction. He’d just thought of the first age-appropriate woman that came to his mind – it was only you because you were roommates and spent so much time together. There were no feelings involved on his end. 

But on yours? You willed your heart to stop fluttering and pounding and threatening to beat out of your chest at the mere idea of dating Joshua Hong. 

“Here,” he spoke softly as he placed a cold glass of water into your hand and took his seat next to you. He watched for a while as you took a miniscule sip and continued staring into nothingness, lost in your thoughts. He hesitated to speak. “I really am sorry. I just wasn’t thinking straight. I was scared and–”

“I seemed like a safer option than Mary?” you finished for him, giving him a knowing look. “C’mon, is she really that bad?”

No, you’re just that much better is what you wished he’d say. Then you’d have at least something to hold onto.

Joshua offered a half-hearted smile. “Mom said Mary is really into haunted buildings and ghost hunting, so…”

Did that make you much better than her? Very debatable. But you were willing to take just about anything reminiscent of a win.

“Sounds dreadful,” you replied, matching his smile. “So what happens now?”

“Well,” he seemed hesitant all over again, as if no progress had been made at all. He quickly forced himself out of that headspace and met your eyes, “I could call my mom and tell her I lied…”

You sensed an ‘or’. Raising an eyebrow, you silently asked him to finish the thought.

He took a stuttering breath before grimacing. “Or we go on with the lie and pretend to date for a while.”

Option B is what your heart shouted. Please pick option B, even if it’s all a lie.

“A while being…?” you forced yourself to nitpick instead of immediately jumping into his arms and agreeing. 

He kissed his teeth. “A month-ish.”

“A month?!”

“Mom didn’t fully, entirely, really believe me,” Joshua supplied with an apologetic look, “so I bluffed a little and she said she’d come stay with us for a while to see it for herself and… I sort of agreed to let her stay a month.”

A month of (fake) dating Joshua Hong, your hot roommate, the very subject of your daydreams? You weren’t sure whether you wanted to scream in joy or cry in despair.

“Okay,” you breathed out and gulped. “We can– We can do a month… right?”

“Right.” He didn’t seem any more sure of than you.

“How long ‘til she comes here?”

“Two days.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

[DAY 1, FRIDAY]

Having read and watched a fair share of romantic comedies, you were adamant that there was no need for a ‘fake dating contract’. You and Joshua were roommates and good friends; surely just a verbal agreement of boundaries would suffice. You’d just tell him your boundaries and he’d tell you yours. 

In an ideal world, that is.

But in the real world, there was a knock on the door before you could even begin to whisper about the idea of boundaries.

While sharing a startled look with you, Joshua crept towards the door and peeked through peephole. 

“It’s her,” he breathed out and offered you one last grimace before opening the door. His voice went from tormented to overjoyed so fast you felt it give you a whiplash, “Mom! Hi! Let me help with your suitcase.”

Showtime (except this was not a theatre, and you didn’t have even the semblance of a script to play out, and you sucked at improv). Putting on your best smile, you stood up just as they entered the living room. 

“There she is!” his mother called out and rushed over to give you a warm hug. “Look at you! As good-looking as always!”

Your cheeks felt a little warm at that. “You look great too!”

“Oh, I know,” she joked and gave your shoulder a friendly pat. Then her friendly expression morphed into something more sinister. “So, dating, huh?”

If your cheeks had felt warm before, they were positively burning now. You tried to find your voice again, even offered a look to Joshua who could only respond with an equally nervous wide-eyed look. Finally, you cleared your throat and answered, “Yeah. We’re still kind of getting used to it ourselves.”

“I always knew you two would end up together,” she gushed, smiling ear to ear and winking at you between sentences. “Took you a while though. I was already starting to worry about my Joshua.”

“Yeah,” you heard him mumble, “me too.”

“Will you join us for dinner?” you asked her, trying to steer the topic away from the inevitable chit-chat about your almost-non-existent relationship.

She hummed in thought – a habit Joshua must have picked up from her, you realised – and nodded as she looked around the living room. “Of course. Let me just get settled in and put on more comfortable clothes. Where can I unpack?”

Your “boyfriend” and you shared a wide-eyed look. This is why you never did improv! 

“You can have my room,” Joshua finally spoke all the while still having that very same panicked expression. “I’ll get it set up real quick.”

His mother paused, confused (and was that a glint of suspicion in her eyes?). “You don’t sleep together?”

You could’ve fried an egg on your cheeks with how hot they felt. “Oh, we–”

“Like she said,” Joshua interrupted, forcing a smile that almost looked convincing, “we’re still kind of settling into this whole relationship thing. We’re taking it slow.”

“I’m glad to give you a push in the right direction,” she told him with a chuckle. “You can’t leave someone like (Y/n) just waiting. She’ll get bored of you, and then what?”

He laughed shortly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Like always.”

He nodded before tugging on the crook of your elbow to drag you with him. “Sweetie, why don’t you come help me set up mom’s room?”

You thanked the heavens he had enough mental capacity to not leave you alone with his mom. “Of course!”

“Help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen, yeah?” Joshua told his mom as he reached to pick up her suitcase with his free hand, his left one still holding onto you like you were his lifeline. “Coffee, tea, a snack – anything.”

She replied with a smile and continued her (no doubt thorough) tour of your apartment. 

Once you were in his room, he closed the door so that it was just a bit ajar as to not seem suspicious and turned to you with a look of terror. His whispers were so loud and harsh that you wondered if there was any point in pretending otherwise as he asked, “What do we do?”

“We clean your room and make your mom feel at home,” you suggested, not entirely sure what he was getting at.

Joshua gave you a look that said he was holding back the urge to call you dumb. “I meant us. She’s taking my bed. Where will I sleep? I can’t sleep on the sofa – she’ll figure out we’re lying.”

Oh. Yeah, that was an unwelcome problem. Mostly because the only viable solution you could think of involved Joshua sleeping in your room and you not getting any sleep because he’d be so close to you. What if you fell asleep and talked in your sleep, confessing your everlasting love? Worse!: what if you had a dirty dream about him – one involving his gorgeous biceps and soft lips and– dear god, you’d never be able to look him in the eyes again. Hell, you probably wouldn’t be able to be in the same room as him. 

Joshua stared at you in silence, expecting a solution. Before you could offer one though, he shut it down with a “I’m not sneaking out to sleep on Chan’s pull-out couch either.”

Damn it. 

“Then there’s only one solution,” you whispered back, unable to believe your own words. “We’ll have to share my room.”

“There’s no room for another mattress there.”

It’s not like either of you even knew where to find a spare mattress. But you didn’t tell him that. And the look in his eyes said you didn’t have to because he knew it just the same and that left only one solution.

“We can share my bed, but if you touch my teddy bear, I’ll make sure you go missing under mysterious circumstances,” you told him and left the room to get some clean sheets for the bed (and calm your heart).

The rest of a day went by in a daze of terrible half-believable lies that just kept elaborating at their own accord because of course she couldn’t be satisfied with just a simple answer. No, she had to ask questions to clarify, as if she was a detective trying to figure out a suspect’s background.

And so you bluffed and lied and shared panicked looks with Joshua. Your collaborations added up to a decent backstory – at least that’s what you thought because at least your lies were not completely out of the realm of reality.

Who confessed first? You both did, in a moment of drunken chaos at Seungcheol’s housewarming party (you failed to mention there was no alcohol provided at said party). 

Where was your first date? A picnic at the park not too far from your home just a few short months ago (and she didn’t need to know it was an outing with all of your neighbours – something not Joshua but Jihoon had organised to help the people in the building become closer).

What was your first kiss like? You had kissed him under the streetlights when he walked you home from work because you’d be damned if you let a man make the first move (in Joshua’s opinion, this was the most obvious lie of all but he chose not to argue because the other option was to look his mother in the eyes and tell her he’d made the first move to kiss somebody on the mouth).

The little lies added up and by the end of the day, you weren’t entirely sure where one started or another ended. Hell, you were pretty certain you wouldn’t remember most of them the next day. 

But that wasn’t the hard part – not the real hard part anyway. No, the real problem was the evernearing night. Between the improv performance of your life and the general feeling of butterflies, you hadn’t had any time to come to terms with the fact that you’d have to share a bed with your handsome, hot, absolutely amazing roommate under the guise of being his girlfriend.

And now the reality was looming.

His mother was the first to head to bed, leaving you and Joshua to stare at each other in a relieved silence across the dining table as she went about her bedtime routine. Neither you or Joshua dared to move to head to sleep next. Neither of you wanted to make the first move. 

Sensing you were faced with a similar dilemma, he finally suggested, “We could watch a movie.”

“We’ll have to go to bed eventually,” you told him with a sigh. “We can’t spend the whole night watching TV.”

His silence told you he thought otherwise. 

And you were in no mood to make the first move or argue about pillow barriers and teddy bears. So, begrudgingly, you dragged yourself over to the sofa and turned on the TV. 

He joined you soon after, two cans of soda in hand. He handed one – already opened – to you as you flipped through the movie selection.

“You know, sugar really isn’t good for you before bed,” you remarked offhandedly. “Makes it hard to fall asleep.”

He just scoffed and opened his can with a pop and a fizzle. “Good thing we’re watching a movie and not sleeping then.”

“Rom-com or action?”

“Action,” he answered a little too fast before sipping his drink as if to distract himself. 

“We could watch Transformers,” you half-joked. “It’s got a good runtime.”

“Might as well,” he sighed and made himself comfortable as you clicked on the title. 

As you pulled a cushion into your lap for optimal comfort, Joshua remained sitting far from you. It was funny, really – it seemed that he was sitting further from you as your “boyfriend” than he ever had as just your roommate. 

You wanted to blame the movie for how silent the living room had become. Only Optimus Prime’s voice sounded in the apartment, and even that was quiet to not disturb your guest’s sleep. But the reality was that something had shifted between you. You were officially stuck in an arrangement that both benefited and ruined you, and the reality was sinking in fast.

Now there was no chance to take back the lies and the faking. The only option was to keep going and keep up with your elaborate plan to trick the sweetest woman you knew, all because your roommate didn’t want to date some girl called Mary and you had agreed to be his cover because you were infatuated with him. 

How does one process this situation? Where do you go from here? Can you do this for a month without thinking too hard about it? And what happens when the month is up?

“Hey,” Joshua’s soft voice startled you from your tortured thoughts. You turned to find him watching you with a somewhat wistful smile. “You did great today, you know?”

“Whatever do you mean?” You chuckled but it sounded pained even to your own ears. “I was just being a good girlfriend.”

He snorted a laugh. “You can stop acting. I’m pretty sure she’s asleep by now. It’s okay. ”

“How do you know if she’s asleep?” you whispered, eyeing his – no, her – bedroom door. “Would suck to get caught lying on the very first night.”

Joshua’s smile looked a little more real now, almost reaching his eyes as he still watched you like you were a beloved family puppy who had learnt a new trick. “She snores pretty loud.”

Tense in your seat, still eyeing the door, you listened and waited. Before long, you discovered he was right. There it was, a soft snore accompanying Bumblebee’s action scene. Closing your eyes, you breathed out in relief and relaxed into the plush fabric of the sofa. 

“Do you think she bought it?” you wondered.

“If she didn’t, we’ll just have to work harder tomorrow,” he replied before reaching over to brush your hair off your face. 

You willed the butterflies to just go to sleep already and let you be. They remained relentless and you could only pray Joshua wouldn’t notice how flustered his touch made you feel.

“We just have to do this for another 29 days,” you said to distract yourself. “It’ll be fine.”

Did he have to keep stroking your cheek so gently? How much hair did you even have stuck on your face? Maybe you were hallucinating and he wasn’t touching you at all – that seemed almost plausible. 

“We’ll be fine,” he whispered and he sounded to be closer now. His warm breath brushed against your temple. Maybe you weren’t entirely out of your mind yet. “It’s just a month.”

“Just a month.” 

You weren’t yet sure whether you wished it would last less or more.

[DAY 2, SATURDAY]

Three things had greeted you when you woke up: the smell of fresh coffee, the brightest sun you had ever had the displeasure of waking under, and someone’s arm around your waist. You almost hadn’t cared whose arm it was because it was holding you to a warm body, safe from the evils of the morning chill.

Begrudgingly, you had eventually opened your eyes and glanced around. You had fallen asleep on the sofa instead of your bed – a work-around for last night’s problem if you’d ever seen one, even if it was horrible for your back. And the arm belonged to none other than your roommate who looked like an angel as he slept, resting his head on your shoulder… 

“And how is any of that my problem?” Chan yawned over his cup of coffee as he watched you pace around his kitchen ten minutes later. He didn’t really have any plans anyway but it’s not like he enjoyed having neighbours march into his apartment to rant about their love lives (even if it was great material for the building’s gossip group chat which he would no doubt update as soon as you’d leave).

You offered him a glare. “You’re supposed to be a supportive friend.”

“You must have me mixed up with someone,” he deadpanned and took a sip of his hot drink. “What’s so bad about waking up next to him anyway? It’s not like you’ve never shared a bed before.”

Your face felt like it was burning at his words. “How do you even know that?”

Unimpressed, he raised a brow. “You did the same thing the last time it happened – ran in screaming and crying and giggling like a schoolkid.” He paused, narrowing his eyes a little as if a thought was occurring before adding, “You actually do this a lot. It’s a little concerning.”

“Whatever,” you groaned and slumped in the bar stool across the counter from him. “What do I do?”

“Seize the day and appreciate the fact that you’re dating your crush?”

“Fake dating,” you corrected him with a mild glare. And you had only revealed so much to him because he was your best friend and confidant (and because you had made him swear on his life that he wouldn’t tell anyone else).

Chan scoffed a laugh. “He might be faking but there’s no way you are. You suck at improv. Just embrace it and go with the flow.”

You stared at him. Were all your friends this unhelpful or was this just a trait unique to Lee Chan? 

“Why do I even come to you for advice?” you thought out loud. “It’s not like you can even get a date yourself.”

He sputtered and coughed up the sip of coffee he had unfortunately taken just seconds before. His ears turned red. “At least I’m trying.”

“So am I!” you whined. “Come on, give me something to work with. I’m in the middle of a crisis.”

“All of which is self-inflicted.”

“I hate you.”

“Maybe, but you love Joshua,” he teased, winked, and narrowly dodged the apple you threw at his head. He laughed heartily before taking another sip of his coffee. “I’m serious though. You might as well take advantage of your arrangement. Just forget about the fake part and just think of yourself as his girlfriend. I’m sure he won’t complain about your authenticity.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Well, then take advantage some other way,” he suggested, appearing a little frustrated (which was fair; you had, in fact, interrupted his much needed me-time and breakfast for one). “What are you getting out of this arrangement anyways? He gets his mom off his back, and you? Is getting to live out your late-night fantasies the only perk?”

You stared at him. For a moment, he feared you were getting ready to hurl another fruit at his head. But then, instead of reaching for an apple, you slumped in your seat and let out a curious noise. “Huh.”

“Huh?” he mimicked, still tense in case it was a fake-out and you were going to throw something at him regardless.

“You’re right,” you said and he worried even more. 

He glanced towards the nearest door from the corner of his eye, wondering if it was close enough for a safe escape. You never said Chan was right – that just wasn’t a thing. It never happened. He had a bigger chance of getting struck by lightning than to hear you say those two words. Chan was fearing for his life.

“I’m right?” he echoed hesitantly.

“I’m getting nothing out of this arrangement,” you said with a scoff of disbelief. “That little scammer! I’m out here improv-ing my ass off to please his mother and all I get in return is daydream material? Screw that!”

Across from you, Chan still wasn’t sure if this was a healthy development or if he should call Jeonghan for back-up. Regardless, he decided it was safer to just play along. He let out an empathetic cheer and agreed, “Screw it! Yeah! He’s too nice to say no anyways.”

“I’m gonna make him pay!” you decided and marched out of his apartment.

The moment you were out of his sight, Chan breathed out a sigh of relief. 

But you? You froze in the hallway. You just had to cross the hall and demand your due payment. But what would you even ask for? 

As your mind raced for ideas – a new laptop? a new wardrobe? –, the door of your apartment opened. As if you were cursed, Joshua’s head peeked out. 

“Oh,” he spoke and his voice was so soft and welcoming that you almost convinced yourself you couldn’t take advantage of him any more than you already were, “there you are! We were starting to worry.”

“Worry?” you parroted dumbly.

“Yeah,” he laughed and reached out a hand as if to invite you in – as if your name wasn’t on the lease right next to his –, “we were about to have breakfast. Mom made french toast.”

“Oh.” You silently wondered what had happened to the woman you had been two minutes ago in Chan’s apartment. The spine you had grown seemed to have disappeared as soon as Joshua flashed you a smile. You were capital S Screwed.

Deep in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed Joshua staring at you, confused and puzzled, his hand still outstretched for you to take. He cleared his throat to call your attention and forced his smile to brighten as he wriggled his fingers as if to entice you. You sighed quietly before faking a smile and taking his hand, finally letting him pull you to the kitchen.

“There you are,” his mother called out the moment she saw you. She was already at the table, sipping her tea and eyeing the fresh toast. “We were just beginning to wonder where you had gone.”

“Yeah,” Joshua agreed before frowning at you as he pulled a chair out for you to sit, “where did you go?”

What would be a convincing lie? A half-truth – at least that’s what Joshua himself had once told you in a drunken giggle fit.

You took a deep breath and lied through your teeth, “I remembered I promised to help Chan with something.”

“Chan?” She looked at you and there was an odd glint of something in her eyes. Amusement? Judgement? Suspicion. That’s what it was – it was clear cut suspicion and you had to shake it off before she caught onto your plan.

“Our neighbour from across the hall,” Joshua said quickly. Too quickly. You thought he must have recognised that glint in her eyes as well. “He and (Y/n) get along great.”

She hummed thoughtfully, giving you one last glance before declaring, “Well, let’s eat before it all gets cold, kids.”

[DAY 3, SUNDAY]

You had managed to avoid this twice already. This being the act of sharing a bed with the very man who had been the main character of your beautiful love-struck dreams for the past 7 months. 

The first time had been a lucky break – falling asleep on the sofa with a Transformers movie playing in the background. It had been believable enough.

The second time – last night –, had been less of a lucky break and more of a Joshua scheme. Whether it was because he couldn’t fathom the idea of sharing even a room with you (hurtful, but valid) or because he was afraid you’d be uncomfortable (absolutely valid), he had gone to hang out with his friend Jeonghan and the newest inhabitant of the building Choi Seungcheol and didn’t return until noon. And even now he was still hungover from their late-night activities.

But this time? It seemed that three was not a magic number after all. 

Dressed in your least revealing pyjamas, you stood next to Joshua, collectively staring at the twin bed in the corner of your room. 

The silence was deafening and suffocating you. And the butterflies in your stomach seemed to have doubled since this arrangement started. 

“Do you think it’s too late to call Jihoon and ask for a spare mattress?” you wondered out loud without really meaning to. 

You wanted to slap a hand over your own mouth – all these months of pining but when the opportunity is served to you on a silver platter, you’re a coward. What was it that Mina had called this? 

Self-sabotage? Sounds about right.

Joshua glanced at the time on his phone before sighing and looking at the bed again. “It’s already past midnight. And you have work at 8.”

“Oh.” 

“Whatever,” he sighed, blinking his eyes closed and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’ll take the window side. You take the wall side.”

Any love-blind or anxious thoughts jumped right out your third floor windows. Why did you even have a crush on this man who cared so little for your sleep? Making you sleep against the wall? When his shoulders were almost as wide as your whole bed? 

To quote the wise words of Lee Jihoon: Joshua? A gentleman, my ass!

You scoffed. “No way! Last time I let you do that, you almost squashed me.”

Frowning, he shushed you and pointed at the door. “My mom’s next door.”

You rolled your eyes and continued in a whisper – because unlike him, you were considerate of your friends’ feelings and needs –, “I’m not sleeping against the wall.”

“Fine,” he agreed with a soft scoff of disbelief, his eyes widening, “I’ll sleep against the wall.”

“And what? Push me off my own bed?”

He stared at you like you had grown a third head. But really he couldn’t argue – he knew he couldn’t because you had a perfectly valid point. And besides, he had lived with you long enough to know there was no winning against you. 

“Then what do you suggest?” he asked, defeated.

No ideas were popping up. You stayed quiet. 

After a few minutes of silence, you relented and suggested, “... Rock paper scissors?”

“You didn’t like either idea,” he reminded you.

“Just pick a side to defend. Whatever. I’m voting I get the window side.”

“But you didn’t want–”

“I want the window side,” you insisted half-heartedly but you both knew you were lying. There was no winning for you – not with a bed this size.

“Why did I choose you?” he thought out loud as he lifted his hand in the starting position. 

You almost scoffed at his words because it’s not like he actually had any other choices anyway. You were the only one crazy enough to agree to his scheme. Joshua had exactly two partners in crime and you doubted Jeonghan would have agreed to pretend to be Joshua’s boyfriend for a month. So, really, you were his one and only option.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot,” you softly counted in unison.

Your rock was swiftly beaten by his paper. You weren’t sure why that annoyed you – you were on the losing end of the bet either way.

Joshua stepped back and grandly gestured towards the bed with a sarcastic smile, “My love.”

“I hate you,” you told him with a groan and got in the bed before pulling yourself to the side against the wall. You already knew this would be a miserable night. 

Your roommate chuckled and followed suit, settling on his own side. Immediately, you regretted getting in the bed with him. Joshua took up more than half of the bed, easily and even when he was trying to be considerate, rolling to his side to take up less space, he was too close for comfort. 

Perhaps, you wondered, he wouldn’t bat an eye if you got out right now and pulled an all-nighter on a report you desperately needed to work on before the morning (the report being your Netflix catalogue; Bridgerton was calling your name).

But before you could even open your mouth to lie, Joshua pulled the blanket up to your neck, tucking you in with a gentle smile. “We can switch tomorrow, if you want. Just get some sleep now. You have an early day.”

As he closed your eyes and subconsciously leaned closer to you, you wondered if it would be so hard to take advantage of the situation after all and pretend it’s real. Would it really hurt to just forget about the ‘fake’ part of your fake dating plan and just… lean a little closer and rest your head on his pillow instead of your own? 

His hand was so close to yours, fingers just inches from touching. 

What would happen if you just reached out and wrapped your hand around his? What would happen if you pressed a single affectionate kiss to his knuckles? 

Would he smile in his sleep? 

Or would he be appalled?

You shook the thoughts out of your head and squeezed your eyes shut. This was going to be a long night.

[DAY 4, MONDAY]

In your months of living with Joshua, you had shared more than a few breakfasts. Hungover, sick, or even after a foul fight over who’s turn it had been to take out the trash – none of those breakfasts had been nearly as unpalatable as this one.

You could hardly look at him from across the table. Mortified. Ashamed. Certain he wouldn’t even want to look at you. You avoided his eyes and he avoided yours as his mother fussed about and piled waffles upon waffles onto your plates. 

It might have been rude to not listen to your guest’s morning rambles about the weather and the news channel, but you were still too caught-up in your embarrassment to pay her any kind of attention. 

You knew you shouldn’t have fallen asleep. You should’ve ignored the fluffy sheep and refused the offers of the Sandman. You really should have because you hadn’t and now you were forced to live the knowledge that Joshua had to gently shake you awake from his spot underneath you. 

From UNDERNEATH you. Meaning you had fallen asleep on top of your very handsome roommate. 

And now you couldn’t even look him in the eyes again. 

“Are you kids alright?” his mother wondered all of a sudden and a jolt of fear went through you. 

On instinct and instinct alone, your head snapped to share a look with your “boyfriend”. Remembering the morning incident, you immediately looked away again and feigned nonchalance even as your cheeks and ears burned (out of the corner of your eye, you saw him do the same – there went the small chance that he had thought nothing of it).

“Yeah, why?” Joshua replied after clearing his throat.

“You’re usually not this quiet,” she said and you found her looking at you with concern. “Did something happen? Did you two fight?”

“What? No!” you protested without really meaning to. In your head, you reminded yourself that it was just a reflex and the desperate need to fulfil your part of the deal. “We’re completely fine.”

“Are you?” she still worried, hands on her hips as she took turns looking at the two of you. “Be honest: is me being here a problem? You seem so awkward, like even being in the same room is a chore. Did you fight because I came to stay here?”

“No, no,” you and Joshua protested in unison. 

You shared another look, forgetting your embarrassment now that your plan was in jeopardy.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because I really didn’t want to cause you problems. If I’ve done something to upset either of you–”

“Mom,” Joshua assured her with a gentle smile that didn’t look entirely genuine, “(Y/n) and I are fine. We’re just…”

“Stressed from work,” you supplied when he trailed off in thought. “You know how it is.”

She didn’t fully seem to buy it, still eyeing the both of you with a mix of suspicion and worry. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” She scoffed as if she had realised the gravity of her words and pinched the bridge of her nose. “What am I even saying? You wouldn’t lie to me.”

As if your morning couldn’t get any worse.

“We should go get ready for work, honey,” Joshua suddenly excused himself and you, pulling you up by the crook of your elbow. “Wouldn’t want you to be late to work with all those big projects you have.”

You wondered what big projects he was talking about. Your higher-ups barely even allowed you to proofread the company documents and fix typos. But the look in his eyes said he needed you to play along.

“Right, right,” you sighed and went with him, offering his mother one last sweet smile before the bedroom door shut behind you and Joshua practically trapped you against it. 

“She’s onto us,” he told you quietly, all the while still avoiding your eyes. “She’s onto us and she’s probably already setting up a blind date with that Maria-girl.”

“Wasn’t it Mary?” you wondered.

Joshua replied with a half-hearted glare and a sigh. “We need to fix this.”

“But how?” You crossed your arms over your chest, mostly to convince yourself that there was enough space between your and his body to not have the butterflies go absolutely wild. “We just, what, kiss and make up?”

His eyes lit up and you feared for your life. “You’re a genius!”

“Shua, I was being sarcastic.”

He didn’t even seem to hear your protests. “If we kiss, she has no reason to suspect we’re not together. And she’ll be off our backs. It’s perfect.”

The things you would’ve done to kiss Joshua Hong and his beautiful, plump lips… 

Joshua must have mistaken your eager expression for one of dismay or maybe fear because his eyes widened. He lifted his hands in a way that just screamed ‘I was just kidding, please don’t hit me’ before quickly adding, “Not that I want to kiss you – I’m sure you’re a great kisser. We don’t have to kiss though. Because–”

“Because we’re friends,” you finished for him with a smile that you hoped wouldn’t betray your disappointment, “and it would make things awkward, right?”

“Right,” he breathed out and visibly relaxing – slumping even – in front of you. “I’m sorry I even suggested that. It’s dumb. You’re my friend – you shouldn’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to just because of a stupid scheme to please my mom.”

If you don’t want to. If you don’t want to. You almost scoffed in his face – he had no idea what he was saying.

You wondered what was the formal and correct way to inform your roommate that you had the biggest, fattest, most ridiculous crush on him and would sell your left kidney for one kiss – if only he wanted to kiss you back.

“Well, we have to convince her somehow, right?” you pointed out as you prepared to start doing your hair. “I doubt a hug will make her less suspicious.”

Joshua chuckled. “You noticed it too?”

“She was acting like she expected us to slip up and confess at any moment,” you reminded him with a quirk of your brow, eyeing him through the mirror. “What did she say? ‘You wouldn’t lie to me’? Oddly specific, no?”

“We’re so screwed if we don’t figure something out,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair (it took you great strength to resist the urge to reach over and give his fluffy utter mess of dark hair a pat as well).

You schooled your expression, willing the beginnings of a blush to go away, as you suggested, “We could still do something kiss-related, you know. Just this once, to get her off our backs.”

“I’m not kissing you,” he argued instantly, ears reddening.

Why was he so god-damn difficult? Why did he have to go on an anxious mental tangent about the wrongs of kissing one’s roommate? Why couldn’t he just kiss you already?! It was his idea anyway!

You almost rolled your eyes as you came up with an alternative, “I could kiss you on the cheek when I leave. Not as good as a kiss but–”

“That could work.”

“Okay, great, we’ve figured it out,” you told him with a chuckle and gently pushed him towards the door. “Now, get out. You haven’t dated me long enough to earn the privilege of seeing me naked yet.”

He snorted a laugh at that – you were half sure it was because he had, in fact, at one point seen you naked, under very different and less than ideal circumstances involving one too many shots of Bacardi – before leaving you to your thoughts and doubts and the knowledge that your roommate did not want to kiss you at all.

[DAY 7, THURSDAY]

While there was an extensive list of reasons why Joshua Hong was the most infuriating man you had ever met (and you meant this very affectionately, which your friends found hilarious), there was an equally extensive list of reasons why Joshua was the ideal man.

His looks were definitely on the list – his doe-like brown eyes, his little bird’s nest of morning hair, his bright smiles to name some of the points.

But it wasn’t all that superficial. You loved his sense of humour. You liked his unlimited patience and kindness. 

Most of all, you loved his cooking.

On most evenings, you got home from work and found your roommate beginning to prepare dinner. He’d offer you a wide smile and ask if his plan of tomato rigatoni suited your tastes. And then he’d just let you rant about your day as he cooked, a drink in your hand.

This tradition had been briefly broken by Joshua’s mother taking over kitchen duties. She felt it was only fair as she was staying in your apartment for free for such a prolonged time. But as much as you loved her food (which almost rivalled Joshua’s), you just missed your daily gossip sessions. 

So, when you got home from work and found your roommate, friend, and fake boyfriend extraordinaire sorting through ingredients on the kitchen counter, you almost cried of joy. You had so many tales to share and you were eager to listen to his stories as well (your last gossip session had ended on a cliffhanger on his part). 

“You’re cooking?” you asked him, leaning over to look at the ingredients, before even remembering that was not how you were meant to greet someone. 

Joshua jumped at voice before resting a hand on his chest and taking a deep breath. “Oh my god…”

“Did I scare you?” you laughed at him and offered an apologetic expression when he turned to glare at you. “So, what are you cooking?”

“I was going to just make some vegetable soup,” he informed you with a tired chuckle. “Mom’s feeling a little under the weather so…”

You couldn’t help but melt at the implications. The grand scheme of fake dating aside, Joshua was a great son to his mother. Yet another reason to add to your ever-growing list. 

And perhaps it was the melting of your heart that affected your brain activity because the next thing you knew you were doing the unthinkable.

“Can I help somehow?” you asked him. 

Even Joshua was startled by your question. And you soon realised why.

In disbelief, you scoffed. “C’mon, I’ve helped you before.”

“Have you?” His head tilted to the side in a manner resembling a curious cat but his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You never offer to help cook. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you use a pan.”

“Shush,” you told him and gave him a gentle slap on the bicep. “What do you need me to do?”

Looking at the various vegetables on the counter, he puffed his cheeks out in thought. Then he shrugged. “You could help with the potatoes.”

“What do I do with them?”

He sighed theatrically. “This is why I never let you help.”

“Hey!”

“Just peel and cut them into pieces, okay?” he finally instructed with a laugh that suggested he did not have a lot of faith in your ability to do so. “Not too small though.”

“I know how to cut potatoes, Shua,” you told him as you got out a knife and cutting board. “I’m a big girl.”

When he offered you another suspicious and perhaps worried glance, you decided it was time to prove a point. He didn’t think you could peel and cut a potato into perfect pieces for a soup? You were going to prove him wrong and you were going to make him eat his words.

It started out great. The first potato was a breeze, peeled and cut in record time. The second and third potato were a joy to turn into smaller chunks and chuck into the bowl Joshua had provided for you. While working on the fourth potato, you started sharing gossip from work and it didn’t affect your task at all. 

For a moment you were certain Joshua would regret doubting you. You were sure there was no way you were going to mess this up and make him question your cooking abilities ever again. 

That is until you reached the last potato. It was two chops in when you let out a whimper, dropped the knife and cradled your hand to your chest.

Joshua’s head snapped up immediately.  Eyes widening in concern, he rushed to your side. “Are you bleeding?”

“Yeah,” you sighed and reached for a towel to dry the blood. “It’s no big deal though, so don’t worry. I’ll g0 find some band-aids and–”

“Don’t get any blood on the potatoes,” he warned with a serious frown and your jaw dropped.

You smacked him with your good hand when his scowl turned into a mischievous smile.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he laughed and left the room. He returned just moments later with the first-aid kit. “Come here, silly. Let’s get that fixed up.”

When he reached for your injured hand, you snorted out a laugh. “You know, I can put the band-aid on by myself.”

“Who knows,” he teased all the while focusing on your wound, “maybe you’d mess that up as well.”

“Now you’re just being mean,” you told him but made no move to escape from your handsome nurse.

Leaning ridiculously close to you, he gently applied the band-aid. When you let out a soft hiss at the pain (mostly just to mess with him), he pouted and pressed a soft kiss to the spot. “That better?”

It was just your luck that his mother decided to come for a glass of water at that exact moment. She let out a soft gasp of delight before feigning nonchalance when your heads snapped to look at her. 

Clearing his throat, Joshua immediately leaned away, straightened up, and offered her a taut smile. 

“Don’t mind me, lovebirds,” she spoke in a theatrical whisper and rushed over to the cupboard to get a glass. “I’m not even here.”

You fought a grimace and turned back to your cutting board. The potato wasn’t going to cut itself and the pot of broth was already calling its name. 

“You’re making soup?” she wondered and lifted a glass of water to her lips, barely even bothering to hide a smile. “It smells delicious.”

Joshua chuckled. “It will be, once (Y/n) finishes the potatoes and we add them in.”

Her jaw dropped and she lowered her glass of water. 

“Joshua!” 

Her voice could only be described as the dictionary definition of the tone of a mother scolding her children for getting into trouble. It sent a shiver of fear down your spine until you realised it wasn’t you she was yelling at.

Your roommate offered you a panicked look before turning to look at his mother, offering her a tight-lipped, fearful smile. “Yes?”

“You’re not actually going to make your girlfriend cook when she’s injured like this, right?!” she demanded to know, her brows furrowed into a furious frown. “She’s bleeding!”

“She’s fine,” Joshua started to argue but his voice trailed lower and lower with every syllable until it faded into silence and his gaze dropped to the floor in shame. 

She glared at him and reached to drag you away from the counter by the sleeve of your blouse. “Come on, sweetheart. You can come watch a movie with me while Joshua thinks about what he’s done.”

As you made your escape from the heat of the kitchen, you glanced over your shoulder to find Joshua looking at you with a dramatic grimace. You replied with a bright smile of victory and a playful wave before joining his mother in watching Mamma Mia.

[DAY 12, TUESDAY]

As far as ways to throw your roommate’s mom off your trail go, cheek kisses were good enough for the first couple of days. You quite grew to like them and, judging by the pinks of his ears and cheeks, so did Joshua. Every morning, you’d leave for work with a kiss to his cheek, a sweet smile and prep to your steps.

Then, of course, his mother made an off-hand comment about how it seems that Joshua never kisses you and he, of course, took that as a challenge. So, he began sending you off with forehead kisses and warm hugs. You like those even more, honestly. 

But you both knew you were delaying the inevitable. Eventually, the cheek and forehead kisses would not be enough proof of your relationship. Paired with no late-evening love-drunk giggles and movie night cuddles, the morning kisses were barely enough to convince anyone and eventually you’d have to up your game.

You had simply hoped you’d have more time to come to terms with the fact before it happened.

“Mom’s starting to get suspicious again,” Joshua simply stated in a hushed tone as he helped you put on your coat. 

Your heart dropped at the mention. When you turned to look at him, he was looking at everything but your eyes. “Is she asking questions again?”

“She told me to stop eating so much garlic bread because it would make my breath stink,” he said while staring at the fake plant sat on the shoe rack. “That feels like a hint.”

“Well, you don’t want to kiss me, so,” you pointed out with a shrug and shook your scarf to unravel it. “Just tell her it’s my breath that’s bad.”

“No way. Everybody knows your breath smells like roses and vanilla,” he joked and you choked on a laugh. He took your scarf from you and untangled a knot in the middle. 

With nothing to do but stare at him, you came up with a mutually beneficial idea. “We could just fake it.”

“How do you fake a kiss?” he wondered, eyes narrowing and brows furrowing.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Isn’t that what they do in movies? We just have to get the angle right.”

“How does that work?” 

It turns out it’s hard to answer any questions when your crush is standing in your personal space – so close that you could smell his shampoo and conditioner. Your brain stalled, blanked and desperately tried to restart all necessary systems while you stared at him. 

“Like this?” you heard his voice say but it sounded distant over the sound of your heart pumping.

Not seeming to notice your daze, Joshua placed the scarf around your neck gently. Carefully, he tugged on the two ends of it, pulling you closer inch by inch until you were so close that you had to fight yourself to not actually kiss him. He leaned closer and closer still, his nose brushing against yours, his hands still wrapped in the scarf to keep you from escaping. If you focused really hard, you could almost feel his lips brushing against yours ever so slightly.

The sound of the coffee maker starting and a mug being placed on the counter awakened you again, harshly forcing you back into consciousness. You let out a soft gasp without really meaning to. 

“That– That was–” Joshua stammered, stepping away from you like he’d been burned and running a hand through his hair. 

You cleared your throat. “That could work… I guess…”

“Right.” 

“Yeah.”

“Have— Have a good day…”

“Yeah.”

You couldn’t find another word to say until you reached your office. There, you slumped into your almost-comfy chair and stared at the ceiling. 

“Fuck.”

[DAY 16, SATURDAY]

Brunch is meant to be fun. It’s meant to bring joy. It’s breakfast without the hassle of waking up at 8 am – what’s not to love?

Well, you weren’t sure you liked brunch that much anymore.

Traumatised (a bit of a hyperbole) and furious (the scientifically correct term), you walked into your room and shut the door behind you before turning to glare at Joshua.

While you had gone out to eat with his mother – at her insistence and with a promise of free food –, your roommate stayed home with the excuse of a headache and snuggled into your blankets like it was his rightful place.

“You.”

His eyes blinked open. “Me?”

“Why do you never read your damn messages?” you burst out but tried to keep your voice low to not catch his mother’s attention. “I sent you, like, fifty.”

“You did?” He seemed genuinely surprised. Which meant that he hadn’t even looked at his phone once in the hours you were gone. Why did he even have a phone in the first place?

Your hands clenched into fists. “What if I died?!”

“My mom asking you to brunch isn’t really a deadly occasion.”

“I barely survived! She asked me about grandkids!”

“Oh.”

Your glare was unrelenting. You hoped it would somehow telepathically convey how much you wished to strangle him if only it weren’t illegal and you weren’t desperately in love with him.

“Well, what did you tell her?” he then wondered and you almost actually jumped to tackle and murder him.

“What do you think I told her, Joshua?” You scoffed. “I just said we hadn’t thought about it because this is still new and you know what she did? Do you want to know what she did?”

He raised a brow. “I guess so?”

“She started giving me the whole ‘you don’t have forever’ and ‘I’d like grandkids before I turn 70’ spiel,” you informed him and groaned. “It went on forever.”

“You’re a good actor,” he assured you with a small smile that almost seemed amused, “I’m sure you got your way out of it.”

“You’re sleeping on the floor tonight,” you told him with a roll of your eyes.

He gasped. “Because my mom asked about grandkids?!”

“Because you don’t read my texts.”

Joshua paused. “Yeah, that’s fair, actually.”

[DAY 20, WEDNESDAY]

Enough was enough. You could put up with many things – your roommate’s pranks, Chan’s endless fantasies about how he’s secretly the most sensible inhabitant of the building, Joshua’s mother staying for a month with little to no notice – but you even your charitability had its limits.

When you’d woken up this morning, your back positively aching and your joints sore from being stuck between Joshua’s wall-like form and the actual wall, the first thought you had was something Chan said:

“What are you getting out of this arrangement anyways? He gets his mom off his back, and you? Is getting to live out your late-night fantasies the only perk?”

And that was when you decided that you had finally reached your limit. With a shove that was far from affectionate or fond, you awakened Joshua and declared before he could even rub the sleep out of his eyes that he’d better keep his evening schedule and a sizable number on his bank account free for you.

What followed had been a shopping trip that dismayed him and exhilarated you. You had, after all, wanted a proper big bed for a while now. Finally, a chance to sprawl out and live out your starfish dreams without the worry of falling to the cold hard ground at 2 am. And more importantly, no more being pushed against the wall like an undignified cushion every other night.

But the thing you enjoyed most of all was Joshua’s hair getting progressively more messy and unkempt as he tried to decipher the IKEA instructions all on his own while you curled up in your desk chair and watched him with a cup of hot cocoa in hand.

“I thought you’d be better at this,” you noted passively upon hearing his frustrated sigh and seeing him unscrew what you assumed was meant to be one of the legs of the new bed. “Maybe I should’ve asked for Jeonghan’s help instead.”

The glare he sent your way was scathing but his tone remained as delightful as always when he assured you, “I’ve got this, don’t worry.”

You made a show of glancing at the time on your laptop – a rerun of Friends playing in the background in an effort to entertain your poor IKEA slave of the night – and announced, “I’m just saying. It’s almost midnight and you’ve only managed to add one leg to the frame.”

He groaned. “It’s not my fault this thing is so complicated. Why couldn’t you pick out a different frame? Something more easy to assemble, for one.”

“I wanted this one,” you teased.

“The oak one you looked at at first would’ve been better. And cheaper.”

“If you want me to keep playing along in your little improv show, you’d better be happy I only asked for a 700,000-won bed in return,” you pointed out and took a sip of your cocoa. 

You sighed happily at the warmth the drink provided. Oh the joys of girlhood. You thought you could get used to this: free furniture, free assembly, and a handsome man to do your bidding.

Joshua’s lips and eyes squeezed into a sarcastic smile as he slowly turned to face you. “Don’t forget the mattress, darling.”

You shrugged. “I didn’t see you protesting at the check-out.”

His smile dropped into yet another glare. “That’s called being in shock. My bank account is dying because of you.”

Without another word, he sharply turned back to his task of assembling the frame.

“This benefits you too, sweetheart,” you replied with a roll of your eyes. “I sleep better, you sleep better, everybody benefits.”

“For ten days,” he muttered and practically slammed two pieces of wood together now that he was sure they were meant to go together. “And then you have a new comfy bed and I just have poverty.”

You snorted. “I’m willing to split custody if you’re nice to me.”

It didn’t take a genius to know he was rolling his eyes. “Yeah right.”

“Besides,” you adjusted your position so you could nudge his back with your foot in an affectionate manner, “you barge in here to gossip every other night anyways. You’re benefiting plenty.”

“Remind me to never ask you to be my fake girlfriend ever again,” he pleaded.

You knew (or perhaps wished) he only half-meant it. But even so there was a pang in your chest. A feeling of sadness as the reality once again sank in. It was easy to forget that this was just an act and he had only bought you this bed because he felt guilty and not because he loved you. The feeling would nag you late into the night.

[DAY 22,  FRIDAY]

You had learnt early on that karaoke has the magical ability to heal wounds and erase bad memories, even if just for one night. Tonight you hoped it would once again prove true.

The building’s monthly karaoke parties were organised by Vernon and Jihoon in an effort to bring the community closer together. On every third Friday of the month, the lobby of the building would be lit with stage and string lights, decorated with colourful banners and dollar store party supplies, and a small stage would be built in the corner. As was tradition, everyone brought some snacks and drinks to the snack table and enjoyed the evening, getting progressively more drunk between karaoke and socialising. 

You thought it was the perfect solution to your problems. With the help of loud music, your nosy friends and alcohol, you would for sure soon forget your heartache and worries. 

There was, however, one problem you had forgotten: Joshua’s protective nature.

You had successfully managed to avoid him for the better part of the evening, sneaking between people, hiding behind Mingyu’s wide frame under the guise of playing hide and seek with your roommate (something Mingyu was very happy to help with; you suspected he just liked to feel useful), and running at every mention of Joshua. 

Seamlessly, the karaoke soon worked its miracle. You found you had missed the liberty that came with hanging out with your friends and not worrying how everything appears to Joshua’s mother. For this one night, you were not Joshua’s fake girlfriend, not someone’s pretend-daughter-in-law, and not an actress struggling at improv – you were once again just (Y/n), a simple woman in love with her best friend, eyeing him from across the room and giggling with your friends about it.

By the time you remembered you were hiding from him, you were far from sober and your thoughts were getting a little jumbled as you made conversation with Minghao, laughing between every other word because saying things was hard and your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. Minghao didn’t say a word and only smiled at you fondly, like one would at a kitten trying to chase after shoelaces, as he listened to you. 

His attention was caught by something behind you and you saw him give someone a gentle nod and a bright smile. Then, before you could even process the situation or ask any questions, he placed a hand on your shoulder and turned you around, bringing you face to face with him. 

You weren’t sure what it was about the dollar store lighting in the lobby, but you had always thought it made Joshua look even more delectable. It was hard not to stare at the shadow his lashes cast on his cheeks or the definition of his muscles visible through the thin fabric of his button-up shirt.

“Hi!” You greeted him with a wave and an intoxicated giggle, momentarily forgetting about the freshly opened can of beer in your hand and letting it slosh in your hands. “Oh! Sorry, my bad!”

A situation you would’ve once thought to be mortifying only made you laugh harder tonight as you searched for tissues and began to dry your hand. You didn’t notice when Joshua had taken the drink from you but you also wouldn’t notice he never gave it back.

He watched you with a smile. “Having fun?”

“Oh my god, I’m having so much fun,” you rambled, eyes shining as you looked at him, already forgetting your quest to dry the floor. “Did you see when Seungcheol and I did ‘Alcohol-Free’ together? It was so much fun–”

It was hard to finish your thought when he looked at you with those pretty eyes, and smile, and– 

He adjusted the sleeves of your dress for you and you almost melted. All thoughts gone. Words? Never heard of those.

You were silent for so long that he chuckled. “You awake?”

“I– Yeah, totally,” you replied, blinking your eyes to force yourself to focus again. “How about you? Are you having fun?”

He shrugged. “I usually have more fun when you’re with me.”

“Oh.”

“You didn’t even sing ‘Breaking Free’ with me tonight,” he complained playfully but you thought you saw a hint of actual sadness in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re making friends with Seungcheol though.”

You hummed and nodded. “He’s very nice. Very handsome too.”

His eyes widened and you couldn’t quite figure out why. 

Not that you even wanted to figure it out. You were, in all honesty, more preoccupied with memorising how pretty he looked with his doe eyes. The purples and yellows and pinks of the lights reflected back from the browns of his eyes and you thought it was the prettiest sight you had ever witnessed. No sunset, sunrise or wild landscape could compete with this view. 

And you wanted to tell him that; but words were so hard when your blood was buzzing with alcohol and adrenaline. So you thought you should show him somehow. 

Your eyes closed briefly. You leaned forward just a bit. Then your lips pressed against his. For just a moment. You couldn’t help but smile as you leaned back and opened your eyes again.

If you had thought his eyes were pretty before, they were positively the most gorgeous sight now as he stared back at you in wonder and confusion. There were not enough words in the dictionary. You thought they ought to fix that problem and add a few just to be safe. 

“The girl who wins your heart will be so lucky,” you told him softly and pressed another gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I wish I was her.”

“(Y/n), I–” he started and you felt the alcohol leave your blood in an instant, the warm buzzing replaced with a cold rush. 

Before he could say anything in response, you ran out of the party. 

[DAY 23, SATURDAY]

Seokmin had always heavily advertised the building’s monthly karaoke parties as “life-altering”. He wrote that in large letters with a bright red marker on every karaoke party notice he saw and he said the exact phrase to every person he talked to in the week leading up to the event. Which was especially funny because 1) he wasn’t on the advertising team, 2) there was no advertising team to begin with, and 3) he never even volunteered to help organise the events. You had concluded that he was just very incredibly enthusiastic about karaoke (and with a voice like his how could one not be?).

But you now feared he was right after all.

Upon realising your mistake, you had, for a moment, contemplated going home and hiding in your room before you realised it would be the first place he’d look for you.

So, instead, you sent a silent apology your best friend’s way and took the spare key from under the doormat before letting yourself into Chan's apartment. 

Even as the morning arrived, you didn’t dare face Joshua. Not after what had happened. Not after you had kissed him and told him you wished he’d fall in love with you and kissed him again. You could never go home again. 

Chan looked away from his laptop screen just to give you a look with one of his brows raised. “You literally live with him.”

“That’s the whole point. I can’t go home,” you told him, lying face-down against his thigh. 

Turns out it’s surprisingly easy to make physical contact with men when you’re not attracted to them. You silently wondered if that could be the solution to your obvious touch-starvation problem – why else would you drunkenly kiss your roommate?

He rolled his eyes. “Then what’s your plan, drama queen?”

You didn’t answer, mulling it over in your head. There really weren’t a lot of options. 

Maybe it was a sign – finally you could fulfil your life-long dream of adopting a new identity and moving to Iceland to become an anonymous sheep herder. It sure sounded more tempting than facing Joshua Hong again.

Before you could open your mouth to suggest a viable idea, Chan beat you to it with a click of his tongue. “You’re too poor to move to Iceland. And no, you can’t move into my place either.”

There went your plan A as well as plan B.

“Fuck you,” you told him and rolled over to face the ceiling. “Then what do I do?”

“What you always do, I guess,” he sighed and turned back to his online shopping addiction. “You complain a bit, throw an apple at my head, and then pretend nothing ever happened between you and Joshua.”

You blinked. “Do I always do that?” 

“Without fail.”

You hadn’t realised there was a pattern. Perhaps this whole thing was worse than you had thought. Perhaps taking a new identity and running really was your only option. And who knows, you thought, maybe you’d find a nice man in Iceland and fall in love with a not-Joshua instead. Then you’d at least be free of one problem, even if at the expense of a new set of issues.

“Instead of catastrophizing, you should use this opportunity,” Chan broke the silence, eyes still on the screen.

You suddenly understood why throwing an apple at his head was part of the pattern. Fortunately for him, the apples were just out of your reach and you were too comfy and hungover to go get even one. “To fake my death and go into hiding? Absolutely.”

“What? No!” He frowned at you as if you had suggested 2+2 was 5. “What is wrong with you? You need to face this whole thing head-on instead of making escape plans!”

“I’d honestly rather go missing under mysterious circumstances.”

“Or,” he started and flicked your forehead with his fingers, making you curse at him as he rolled his eyes, “you could accept the fact that you confessed to your crush and see what he thinks of that.”

“He looked horrified last night.”

“You were drunk and kissed him without permission,” he reminded you helpfully. You failed to see how that information would soften the blow. If anything, it was making you feel like a predator – and not even a very clever one. You grimaced. “Give the poor guy a minute to process before jumping to conclusions. He was just surprised. If you stuck around instead of pulling a Cinderella, maybe you would’ve found out it wasn’t that big of a deal. Who knows, maybe he even likes you back.”

“Pull a Cinder–” You sputtered and glared at him. “Why do I ever come to you for advice?”

He offered a smug smile. “Because deep down you know I’m right.”

You were certain he wasn’t. You couldn’t imagine any scenario outside of your daydreams where the situation could’ve been resolved with a smile and a confession from Joshua Hong. You could, however, imagine a thousand scenarios of him running away or being so disgusted by your behaviour that he’d call off the fake dating scheme once and for all.

Seeing your hopeless expression, Chan sighed. “Instead of making doom’s day plans, try to look at the bright side of things.”

“What bright side?” you asked, closing your eyes and wishing the month would end already. “I embarrassed myself in front of my crush. What’s the bright side, Mr Positivity?”

His silence spoke louder than any words ever could have.

[DAY 24, SUNDAY]

After two nights at Chan’s apartment, you finally decided it was time to face your nightmare. If Joshua hadn’t unilaterally called off the scheme yet, his mother must have for sure been worried about the state of things. You thought you owed him at least these last 7 days of fulfilling this nonsensical plan. 

So, after two cups of coffee and a pep talk from Lee Chan, you braced yourself and walked into your own apartment for the first time all weekend. 

It was silent. Of course it was, you thought and facepalmed: it was only 8 am on a Sunday. Just because your sins and demons had kept you from sleeping in didn’t mean Joshua and his mother would be awake at this damned hour.

You were just about to come to terms with the fact when a soft pitter-patter of feet interrupted the silence. The steps came closer and you took a deep breath to calm yourself, praying it wouldn’t be who you thought it was.

But you knew it was a useless hope. You had lived with Joshua long enough to recognise his footsteps and the rhythm of his snores in your sleep. 

He let out a sigh that seemed almost relieved once he reached the living room. 

“Where were you?” you expected him to ask and put on his best impression of an overprotective dad. 

“How dare you come back here?” you half thought he’d say and glare at you as he’d shove a bag full of your clothes into your arms and kick you out.

But he just watched you in silence for a moment as if to make sure you were real and not a figment of his overactive imagination. And only once you had been pushed to the point of awkwardness where you couldn’t help but put on a tight-lipped smile and a shrug did he finally open his mouth to ask, “Did you eat yet?”

You had almost forgotten what he sounded like and it was a pleasant feeling to listen to him again. The soft murmur and slight sleepy growl to his voice sounded like home and it made the butterflies in your stomach come back to life with a roar of fluttering wings, free of shame and fear.

Your smile almost felt genuine when you replied, “I was going to make pancakes…” 

… To make up for what I did went unsaid, but you suspected he knew they were there nonetheless. 

He yawned in a way that didn’t seem entirely real, as if he was putting on an act to ease the awkwardness. After glancing at the clock he spoke again, “I kind of want to go eat breakfast outside today.”

“Oh.” 

You felt a little dejected at the thought but you understood. If someone had done to you what you had to him – someone you thought was your friend suddenly kissed you and confessed to you, even drunkenly –, you probably would have needed more time as well. If he didn’t want to eat breakfast at home with you, it was his right. You were sure his mother was better company than you anyways.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt you though. You turned your head to fight back the tears that threatened to make a comeback. You didn’t think you had any right to cry but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to. 

But before you could spiral further, Joshua chuckled, “Don’t worry. I’ll pay. You can get as many waffles as you want.”

Your head snapped to face him again, eyes blinking rapidly. You pointed at yourself. “You want me to–”

“Get dressed, silly. I’m too poor to pay for both you and mom, you know.” He could hardly keep from smiling. “Besides, we need to talk, just you and I.”

And talk you did. Or at least you would have if you weren’t so distracted by waffles and a sense of impending doom. You could hardly sit still in your chair, feeling uncomfortable sitting across from him. 

Any moment now, you thought, he’s going to say you were an awful person. Any moment now, he’s going to say it was all a big mistake and he should’ve just asked Jeonghan to fake date him instead. 

But maybe Chan was right and you were a fair bit overdramatic. 

“So about the other night,” Joshua finally started with a heavy sigh and put down his coffee cup. He avoided your eyes (not that you would’ve noticed because you were too busy avoiding his anyway) as he searched for words to say. 

“I’m sorry about that,” you blurted out, abandoning your waffles. 

He paused. “Sorry?”

“I’m sorry for… you know…” You couldn’t even say the words because it was so dumb and ridiculous and shouldn’t have ever happened anyway. How does one apologise for kissing someone? You forced yourself to look him in the eyes. “I shouldn’t have done it. I was just drunk and dumb and silly– You know how I get.”

He nodded. “Right. You were just… drunk.”

“Yep.”

“And you just kissed me because…”

“I was excited to see you,” you half-lied and avoided his eyes again. “I just hadn’t seen you all night and there you were and I guess I got a little…” Carried away? Lovestruck? “It doesn’t change anything, I swear. I was drunk.”

Silence. He was silent for so long that you were half-convinced he’d gone and left you to your own devices. Paying for the breakfast would’ve been the least of your worries.

When you looked up to see if he was still there, you saw him looking down at his food. He seemed… sad? Disappointed? Upset with you for making such silly excuses maybe? You shuddered to think what that odd dim look on his face meant.

The butterflies that had woken up just an hour ago went back to rest, ashamed of their work. You could just hope he wouldn’t hate you forever or kick you out of the apartment. 

Finally, after what felt like forever and then some years, Joshua forced on a smile that was a little too bright to be real. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re back. Where did you even go after the karaoke?”

“I–” You were both overjoyed and taken aback by his question. He cared. He cared and he didn’t want you gone from his life. “I kind of broke into Chan’s apartment and stayed there.”

Brows furrowing and the corner of his mouth turning downwards, he scoffed. “Instead of just coming home? I was worried sick!”

“I’m sorry!” you squeaked and somehow it was the most sincere apology you had uttered today. “I was just so embarrassed and I didn’t think you’d want to see me, so–”

“I always want to see you,” he argued with a disbelieving laugh. “You’re my best friend, (Y/n). I could never be so mad at you that I’d never want to see you. You had me so worried! I thought you’d gone to sleep in a dumpster somewhere.”

There he was – the Joshua you had fallen so hopelessly in love with. Your silly, protective, way too sweet and dramatic Joshua. And you didn’t feel ashamed to be in front of him. 

A smile forced its way onto your lips at the thought.

“What are you smiling at? This is serious!” He could hardly fight a grin himself, already bordering on giggling at your argument. “I was worried about you. And mom kept asking about you and I almost told her you’d moved to Iceland like you always dreamed���”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted him with a laugh. “I’m sorry, again. You can stop being a worry-wart now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He rolled his eyes theatrically. “Next time I’ll just leave you to freeze in the dumpster.”

“I didn’t sleep in a dumpster!”

“Chan’s place is not much better.”

[DAY 26, TUESDAY]

You had hoped that your Sunday breakfast apologies would be the last your actions would haunt you aside from the regular night-time program of nightmares. You had apologised, you had made up, and you were friends with Joshua again as if nothing had happened at all.

Had there been a small, minimal, miniscule glimmer of hope in your heart that Chan’s words would be true and Joshua would tell you he liked you back? Sure. 

Had it been crushed to the point of no revival? Absolutely. 

“Oh, hey, (Y/n),” Vernon greeted you when you entered the building’s lobby after a long day of work. 

You glanced around and noted that, as per usual, the clean-up of the karaoke party was taking five days longer than the setting up. It was only natural, you supposed, as Jihoon was too busy to bother with this and Vernon – as per Junhui and Seungkwan’s accounts – was not the biggest fan of cleaning. Today, four days after the party, he was taking down the last string lights.

“I see some things never change,” you told him with a good-natured chuckle. 

Though it took him a moment to understand what you were implying, Vernon rolled his eyes once the realisation hit. “You’re welcome to come and help.”

You had walked right into that one and so you sighed. “Alright, what do you need?”

He laughed. “I was just joking. I’ve got this. I planned this entire thing anyway.”

“Wouldn’t you rather spend some time with your girlfriend?” you wondered. You could barely wrap your mind around how people with dating lives didn’t just spend all their free time cuddling and being in love.

“Ella’s fine,” he told you with a shrug. “She’s got Rocket and Mango to keep her company.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I think she’s probably sick of me, anyway.”

“Why?”

“... I ate the last ice cream.”

You snorted a laugh. “Might as well send in the divorce paperwork already.”

“Right?” he joked before raising his brows. “How about you?”

“What about me?”

“Why aren’t you at home, making googly eyes at Josh?”

You froze. Did he know about your crush? Vernon – the master of not noticing the things around him – had noticed your crush? How obvious had you been?

 “Why would I do that?” you asked after clearing your throat.

He scoffed. “Oh, come on, we all saw you at the party.”

It appeared the magical karaoke regrets would never stop haunting you. You cursed under your breath. 

Barely noting your silence, Vernon turned back to the lights but asked, “So, are you finally together? Did he finally confess?”

“Confess?”

You cringed as you felt like a broken record forced to perform, but your brain was too far in overdrive to maintain its normal operations.

“I mean, he’s been in love with you since like… forever, really,” he told you oh-so-casually, as if he was discussing the Monday paper or the weather. “I thought the dumbass would never confess. If he hadn’t, I’m sure Jeonghan and Seungkwan would’ve set up a ploy to get you to date.”

And just like that you found yourself on Chan’s sofa once again. He had only greeted you with a deep, heartfelt sigh and a nod that said he had expected this. 

As he fell next to you on the sofa, he took a sip of beer and said, “Do your thing, drama queen.”

You stayed silent, still pondering your existence and the ups and downs of your (non?)existent love life. 

Mouth agape in surprise at your lack of complaints, Chan waved a hand in front of your face. “Earth to (Y/n)? What happened? You know, it’s good to let your feelings out. I might complain about it sometimes but–”

“Vernon said Joshua has a crush on me,” you finally blurted out, staring ahead, still deep in disbelief. “It can’t be, right? He’s probably being silly. But what if he isn’t? What if he’s right? What if Joshua has a crush on me? What if he had a crush on me and then I kissed him and now he thinks I’m gross?”

It did feel good to let your feelings and thoughts out. And now they just sounded even sillier. Why? Well, because it was ridiculous – Joshua would never have a crush on you.

Chan blinked. “Vernon said that?”

“Do you think he’s right?”

He kissed his teeth. “And if I say yes?”

“Then why didn’t he say anything?” 

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because he can’t possibly like me!”

He rolled his eyes and leaned back. “There you go.”

“Why hasn’t he confessed? He could’ve told me to not apologise. He could’ve kissed me back. He could’ve–”

“Maybe he’s a coward and he’s waiting for you to confess first,” Chan guessed. “You know, kind of like how you’re doing right now.”

“You are entirely unhelpful,” you told him with a mild glare that one could almost mistake for fond. “I can’t just confess to him. Not after what happened.”

“Says who?”

“Can you stop asking questions and help me,” you whined before practically slamming your head against his shoulder in a search for comfort. “This is a serious crisis. Do you think he could actually like me?”

Chan hesitated. “You didn’t hear it from me, but…”

“But?”

“I’m pretty sure I overheard Jeonghan, Seungcheol and Joshua talking about you. And I’m pretty sure Joshua said he could never live with himself if you rejected him.”

“He did?”

“You didn’t hear it from me,” he reminded you and patted your arm in a brotherly manner. “So I say you go and confess and live happily ever after.”

You groaned. “Or miserably.”

“If that’s what you want,” he joked. “But you should still give it a try.”

“But not today though.”

“Definitely not today. You look like a mess,” he blurted. “He’d have to be pretty far gone to accept your confession, Ms Frankenstein.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and tensed as if he expected you to hit him – with an apple, you guessed – and you just scoffed out something akin to a laugh.

“I’d kick you if you weren’t such a good friend,” you told him instead and gently patted his cheek. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

[DAY 27, WEDNESDAY]

The alarm still had a few minutes before it would go off. 

You stared at Joshua as he slept soundly beside you. It was tempting to smooth down his hair and press a soft kiss to his forehead. But you had other things to do before you could do that. 

You took a deep breath and opened your lips to just whisper the words – as practice for the real confession you would definitely, 100%, certainly make in a few days – but no sound came out. 

You sighed and slumped back into your pillow. Confessing is harder than it looks in movies and books, even when he’s asleep and can’t hear you.

Joshua’s phone began ringing, notifying both him and you of the beginning of a new day. He stirred beside you. You pretended you’d been asleep this entire time.

[DAY 28, THURSDAY]

It was cold. So, so cold. Of course fate would have it that the first snowstorm of the year would hit without warning on the one day the last bus home was over an hour late. And of course it had to be on the one day when your boss asked (or, rather, begged) you to work overtime. 

But maybe fate wasn’t entirely cruel and useless, you thought as Seungcheol’s car stopped in front of the bus stop and he invited you inside with a worried smile and a wave.

“What are you doing out so late?” he wondered as he cranked the seat warmers up to the maximum. “Didn’t you watch the forecast?”

Oh. So they had issued a warning after all. 

“I’ve been a little distracted, I guess,” you told him with a sheepish laugh before thanking him for giving you a lift and wondering, “What about you? It’s not exactly driving weather.”

“Every weather is driving weather,” he joked and offered you a bright smile that for the shortest moment had you wishing you had fallen for him and not your stupidly endearing roommate. “I’m sure Joshua’s worried.”

You hadn’t even thought to check your phone until now. Frankly, judging by its recent battery life, you’d be shocked if it had any charge left at all.

“He’ll live.”

“Are you– I thought–” He hummed in thought, brows furrowing. “Are you not together?”

How you wished you were.

“No,” you sighed. “But I was going to confess tonight until, you know, my boss decided we needed those reports two days ago.”

Seungcheol nearly swerved his car in surprise. He was quick to fix his error – it went fairly smoothly with how empty the streets were this late at night. “I’m sorry. I really thought you were together. He’s been talking about you so much. I thought–”

“Apparently you’re not the only one.” You laughed. “I don’t know how he’ll feel if I do confess though. Maybe he’ll kick me out.”

“He won’t. No way,” he said and it almost sounded like a promise. “But if he does, tell me and I’ll kick his ass.”

“So you think I should confess?” 

“Do it. I think you’ll like the outcome.”

“How do you know?”

He shrugged. “Let’s just say I have some experience with love.”

[DAY 29, FRIDAY]

Back home, Joshua felt like he was going to go out of his mind. The clock on the wall was mocking him, moving forward even as his worry deepened. 

It was already almost midnight. You were usually home by 7. And yet there was no sign of you.

Sighing, he fell back onto the sofa and checked his phone again. He wasn’t sure how many times he had done that already. Fifteen? Fifty? Five hundred, perhaps? 

Still no calls back. Still no sign that you had read his messages. When he tapped on your contact to call you, it went to voicemail and he almost went insane.

“I’m sure she’s safe. She’ll be home soon,” his mother comforted him with a gentle pat on the shoulder. But her words were hard to believe when she was staying up later than usual with him, her third cup of peppermint tea sat on the coffee table in front of them.

The clock ticked midnight and Joshua jumped to his feet. “I’m going out to find her.”

“You’re going out? In this weather?” She didn’t need to use harsh words for him to know that she was scolding him. 

But he didn’t care. He couldn’t care when you weren’t home. 

So he ignored her warnings and pulled on his coat, his boots, and grabbed his car keys. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he called over his shoulder as he left the apartment. He heard her call something out to him but he couldn’t be bothered to listen when he was half-certain you were buried in a pile of snow somewhere. 

He was halfway down the stairs, somewhere between the first and second floor when he heard your voice. He could’ve sworn life returned to his veins at the sound. He sighed in relief and picked up the pace, hurrying to see you.

But then he heard another voice. Seungcheol. 

“If you like it, keep it,” the man from 5A spoke, his voice rich and low in a way Joshua just knew would have any woman weak at the knees. And how was he supposed to compete with that?

He heard you laugh – giggle, really. “That’s so sweet, Cheol.”

Cheol? Joshua almost scoffed in disbelief. It had taken him two months to get to the nickname stage with you and this man comes and reaches it in less than a month? 

He wasn’t sure what this feeling in his chest was. Anger? Bitterness? No, he was just lying to himself. He knew exactly what this feeling was: jealousy. And he’d be damned if he let this continue.

Dusting off his black wool coat, he picked up the pace again and rushed downstairs to meet you. 

The acting lessons his mother had signed him up for when he was a kid paid off now as he feigned surprise at the sight of you. Eyes widening, lips falling apart, and a gasp of air to really sell it. He ran to you from the bottom of the staircase.

“Sweetheart!” he called out as he practically tackled you in a hug. He didn’t even have to pretend as he held you close, one arm around your back and one pushing against the back of your head to keep you as close as humanly possible. “Where were you? I was so worried. Are you okay?”

You had squeaked in surprise and he almost laughed. He let you go (all the while making sure to keep one hand on your back) and asked again, “Are you okay, baby?”

You seemed to be speechless, staring at him with wide eyes full of confusion. 

Seungcheol cleared his throat and Joshua almost glared at him just to prove a point. “I should leave you with your…”

“Boyfriend,” Joshua quickly supplied with a smile he hoped came across as both friendly and venomous. You let out another squeak of surprise. 

“Right.” Seungcheol raised a single brow before sharing a funny look with you. “I’ll see you some other time then, (Y/n). And don’t let your boss make you work overtime again.”

With that, he climbed up the stairs, leaving just Joshua and you.

“You worked overtime?” Joshua wondered, visibly relaxing once Seungcheol was out of range. “How long?”

“Just until 10,” you replied but it sounded almost robotic. 

“It’s midnight,” he reminded you and took your hand to check if your hands were cold. He sighed in both relief that they were warm and disappointment that he didn’t have an excuse to play with your hands now. 

You scratched your head. “The bus was late. I don’t know if it even came.”

“So, then you called Seungcheol?” 

The implication hurt him. He thought he was your first call no matter what happened. He had been all these months, after all. Even if he sucked at reading messages, he never failed to answer the phone on the first ring. 

“I think my phone died. Cheol just happened to drive past,” you told him and, for once, he felt better. 

He sighed in relief and closed his eyes, taking the situation in. It felt like he could finally breathe and think again now that you were back home. 

“Joshua,” your voice interrupted his thoughts and he hummed, “are you okay?”

He opened his eyes and looked at you. The urge to pull you back into his arms was overwhelming. “You had me so worried.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I should’ve called but–”

“I can’t keep doing this.” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He really hadn’t. But that hadn’t stopped him at all. 

You seemed startled at his words, not in a good way. In a way that made him wonder if you ever expected anything but the worst when he spoke to you. He had to put a stop to it. 

But before he could, you scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re acting like I do this often.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Also, what just happened with Cheol?” He wasn’t sure what had set you off, but he felt himself matching your energy, getting agitated. “Since when are you introducing yourself as my boyfriend to our neighbours? If you wanted to do that, you should have warned me.”

“I lied,” he blurted out before you could continue. “I’ve been lying to you a lot.” 

You froze. “You… You lied? What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath. “When I lied to my mom, when I told her we were dating – it wasn’t random. I said I was dating you because… I guess I just wanted it to be real. I wasn’t nervous because I lied to her. I was nervous because I thought you’d be disgusted and upset and hate me. But I’ve liked you since the day you moved in and I’ve been in love with you since the time you borrowed my sweater in August because the moths ate all of yours.”

“You like me?” you asked dumbly and he actually laughed.

Joshua nodded. “I’m in love with you in a way I didn’t think I could ever be with anyone.”

“And… you’re choosing to confess now?” You glanced around at the empty lobby, only a single sconce lamp lighting the way into the building. “Here? Like this? Why?”

“Seungcheol–”

Your jaw dropped. “Because you’re jealous?!”

Joshua scratched the back of his neck and avoided your eyes. He didn’t have a single excuse. He was an impulsive man. He rarely thought of the consequences or even of what he was doing in that moment. Especially when it came to you. He looked down at his feet.

“I mean,” you continued with a chuckle, “I guess I’m no better. I kissed you at the karaoke just because I thought you were pretty.”

“I should’ve kissed you back,” he told you earnestly. 

You blinked. And then you blinked again. Then he saw a mischievous glint in your eye. “You should. Right now.”

You couldn’t have been serious. He didn’t think you were. There was no way.

“You can’t just confess to me like this and then not kiss me,” you told him and you didn’t sound mad at him. “You owe me that much after that scene with Seungcheol and confessing to me in the building lobby, Mr Gentleman.”

Who was he to argue? 

Taking another long gulp of air, he leaned closer. Slowly, centimetre by centimetre, unsure if you were serious or not. 

It was his turn to squeak in surprise when you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt coat and pulled him closer to kiss his lips. 

“So,” he wondered, voice soft and dazed, when you pulled away, “you like me back?”

“You can ask Chan for proof, if you want,” you simply told him before kissing him again. 

He didn’t care to ask for an explanation. Not when he was finally getting everything he wanted.

 [DAY 30, SUNDAY]

Turns out fake dating becomes a lot easier when you just actually date. Who could’ve guessed?

The agony of sharing your bed and being pushed against the wall no matter the size of your mattress was replaced with the domestic joy of being able to cuddle your boyfriend. By the second night of dating Joshua, you had found your favourite position was letting him lie half on top of you, his head resting against your chest at the perfect angle to play with his hair. 

The awkward breakfasts full of lies… Well, they still had a few emergency lies here and there, but for the most part it was stealing bites off his plate and nudging each other while giggling as his mother watched you with a mildly amused look on her face.

And the kisses. You couldn’t get enough of the kisses and neither could the butterflies in your stomach, still fluttering the same as they had during your first kiss even now as he kissed you for the fiftieth time (yes, you had kept count). 

It was only a shame that the real dating started so late into the scheme. After only two days of domestic bliss, it was time for his mother to pack her bags and go home.

Dressed in a warm coat and wrapped in a large scarf, she offered her son a warm hug, whispering endearments and gentle scoldings into his ear as you waited in the lobby. You suspected her taxi driver had fallen asleep by now.  

She then gave you a hug as well. A short and sweet one with a warning to treat her son well. And then she added, “Oh, before I forget, I left something on the kitchen table for you. Read it later, okay?”

You nodded and sent her off with a smile.

Joshua joined your side, resting a hand on your back (a new habit of his that you didn’t quite mind). He wore a smile.

“What did she tell you?” you asked him. “When you were hugging.”

“Told me to stop leaving the toilet seat up,” he told you and you suspected it was only half the truth. “What about you?”

“She said she left something on the kitchen table for us to read.”

He paused. “A book?”

“You think? What if it’s a poem?”

“Maybe a letter?”

“It’s possible.” 

You shared a look. His mother’s taxi barely managed to leave your sight before you and your boyfriend (you could never get enough of calling him that) were dashing up the stairs to solve the mystery.

True enough, there was a white envelope on the table.

“Maybe it’s pocket money,” you guessed as you picked the envelope up. “For hosting her or something.”

“If it is, you should give it to me,” he told you and you weren’t entirely sure he was joking. “There’s a hole in my bank account because of you.”

“You’re never letting that go, are you?” you sighed and opened the envelope. You were pleasantly surprised to find out you had been right – a handful of cash had been stashed into the envelope, probably enough to cover your rent for the month.

Barely bothering to hide his smirk, Joshua extended a palm. You gave him a look. Stared at him. Then sighed and placed the cash in his hand. He smiled bright and put it away in his pocket.

But the cash wasn’t all. There was a folded piece of paper. A letter.

You opened it, half-expecting a scolding or a motherly warning. But this letter – as short as it was sweet – exceeded all expectations.

Sweethearts

I hope you know I’m not unwise. I know all about your little scheme – neither of you are very good actors. Joshua, you should know better than to lie to your mother. 

But it was entertaining and I am glad to have given you some incentive to finally take the proper steps and start dating. You make a cute couple when you’re not acting. 

Can’t wait to see you two again soon

Your jaw dropped. 

“What does it say?” Joshua wondered, leaning over your shoulder to read. He let out a scoff soon afterwards. “She can be so mean.”

“She knew this whole time?” you cried out.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I should’ve known. It was too easy.”

“I mean, I thought she was suspicious of us, but this?”

“Do we really suck at acting this much?”

“Whatever,” you sighed and put the letter down. “I’m going to sleep. I can’t handle an existential crisis right now.”

“Right, let’s go sleep,” Joshua agreed, leading you away from the kitchen with a gentle tug on your arm. 

It was only when you were stood in front of the two bedroom doors, nearly identical and stood side by side, that you paused and a realisation hit. 

Was it appropriate to share a bed anymore? Surely Joshua would want to go back to his own room now that it was free again? 

You almost groaned out loud: you had thought the doubts and useless problems would cease after the confession. Everything was good and great and wonderful, so why were the stupid worries back?

Having probably reached the same conclusion, Joshua seemed just as stumped. He stared at his bedroom door for a while and you were certain he’d go to sleep in his own bed for the night, ending your most favourite part of newfound domestic bliss.

“I paid for the bed,” he suddenly said with a laugh and gently pushed you towards your room, following closely after. “You’re not getting rid of me now, sweetheart.”

“So you’re just inviting yourself into my room now?” you joked, nudging his side before letting yourself fall onto the bed. 

He laid down next to you, resting his head on his arm after rolling to his side to face you. He grinned. “It’s our room now.”

You loved the sound of that and you were certain he could see it on your face.

“So what will we do with your room?”

Joshua pondered for a moment. “We could turn it into a guest room. something tells me mom’s going to want to visit again soon.”

You paled at the mention of her. “I don’t think I can ever look her in the eyes again.”

“Me neither,” he sighed and leaned over to hide his face in the crook of your neck. “Let’s not think about it any more.”

“You’re the one that brought her up!” You laughed.

“Let’s just go to sleep,” he said. “I love you.”

The butterflies went crazy. You couldn’t and wouldn’t fight the smile that appeared on your face. “I love you too.”

[thebiggerbear]

Off Limits

Summary: When Reenie sends you to assist Colter with whatever he needs after getting arrested for breaking into a morgue in Virginia, you meet his older brother Russell for the first time. There's some flirting and definitely a mutual attraction there before you Colter sends you off. Little do you know at the time that Colter has warned Russell that you're off limits and that Russell has no intention of listening to said warning.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader; Russell Shaw x Female!PI!Reader

A/N: So I've had this idea in my head since I first saw the episode (and that whole food truck scene) and finally sat down to start writing it May 19th, the day we were all hoping Russell would return for 1x13 (no spoilers). I did change up the ending of 1x12 a little here. By the way, I love Colter and I'm only a few episodes into the season but he kind of gives a little fuckboi vibe to me (meant affectionately of course) so I decided to kind of play on that a little here. Not that Russell also doesn't seem to have that vibe here a little bit. (again, meant as affectionate) 😉 I may write a follow up to this to fill in/shade in more areas mentioned in here.

Anyways, this was a lot of fun to write and try to practice ratcheting up the UST a little between two characters. I'm not sure if I succeeded but it was still fun to try. 🥵

All unbeta'd.

Song while writing: Coming For You - Nuela Charles (you can probably guess what scene I was envisioning/writing with this one 🤷‍♀️)

Warnings: sexual tension; flirting; a little smut; language

Word Count: 9357

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

You pulled up to the area where two food trucks sat and tables were scattered throughout the center of it all. You quickly recognized Colter sitting there, eating, talking to someone sitting across from him. You softly groaned at the incessant pounding in your head, tenderly rubbing your forehead. Why had Reenie charged you with this? True, you owed her a favor (or four) but still, getting on a plane with only thirty minutes notice, no time to pack an overnight bag, and her insistence that you go and assist Colter with whatever he needed was a bit much. Even for her. 

But here you were, dressed in yesterday’s clothes, your hair up in a messy ponytail after you quickly combed your fingers through it, and feeling scuzzy after a long night spent on planes. That’s right. Planes as in plural. Reenie hadn’t even sprung for a non-connecting flight, though she’d tried to chalk it up to none of those being available when she’d booked the trip for you ASAFP. You’d been stuck in coach the entire time, which was fine (you were more than used to it) but you’d had the middle seat and then the aisle seat — both seating arrangements were pure hell. Needless to say, you may have indulged at the airport bar in between flights and ordered drinks while on both, putting it on your business card that you immediately wrote off as travel expenses in your head. Especially when one of the guys you were sitting next to (who thought he was the next young Robert DeNiro apparently) was intent on making conversation, filling you in on his romantic and sexual history (relayed through a ton of bad implied jokes of course), as if he thought that would be a selling point for you to immediately want to induct him into the mile high club (there was no way he was a member despite his many stories hinting to the contrary). No thank you. Not ever.

Thankfully, you were able to pick up some essentials when you finally arrived at your destination and used the airport bathrooms for a little clean up before grabbing a rental car. You still felt gross and in need of a shower, but you’d manage until you did what you came here to do and then your time would be your own again. You were sure you’d get a shower and a change of clothes somewhere in between there. 

So while the alcohol helped to ease the tension your sudden trip created, you were badly hungover. Yep, sadly you were at that age where if you even looked at a drink, you’d get a headache the next day. So while you had maintained a nice buzz, you were now paying for it. You took a deep breath, slipped on your sunglasses, and got out of the car. 

Colter saw you coming, surprise fleeting across his expression, before turning his full attention on you when you sat down next to him. “Oof. Rough night?”

Your answer was to flip him the bird which made him chuckle. You then yanked out the folder of files Reenie had thrown into a travel case for you and slapped it all down next to him. “There. Directly from Reenie. With my compliments. Not that I don’t have my own cases to work,” you finished in a mumble. You snatched his coffee, ignoring his frown, and took a deep gulp. You made an immediate face. “Ugh. How do you still drink this shit?”

“It’s coffee,” he informed you as he began peeking at the files.

“I know. How do you not put anything in it? Do you like the taste of bitter ass first thing in the morning? Wait, don’t answer that.” You slipped out an airplane shot you had snuck into your jacket pocket that you swiped from the drink cart as it passed by during your aisle seat fun, beyond desperate to ignore the chatty Cathy next to you (her name had literally been Cathy as you’d found out against your will). You immediately lifted the lid and dumped in the contents, picking up a fry from Colter’s plate and using that to stir things around quickly before tossing it in the grass behind you. You ignored the “hey!” sounding not too far from where the fry had most likely landed and took a generous sip of the warm liquid, nearly heaving a sigh of satisfaction as it settled into your stomach. Not exactly the hair of the dog but it would do for now.

Colter was shaking his head, watching you, and you immaturely stuck your tongue out at him, about to tell him to blow you when you heard a chuckle across the table. You turned to see the guy Colter had been talking to grinning over at you, amusement clear as day on his face. You lowered your glasses slightly and took in his features, noting his obvious attractiveness, and you would be loathe to admit that you wouldn’t mind meeting him in an airplane bathroom had he been the one sitting next to you on that ghastly flight. Almost as if he knew what you were thinking, his smile grew and those green eyes lit up in a way that was all too familiar to you, and also had you wondering if there were any public bathrooms around here that you could slip away to for a bit. After the long night you’d had, an orgasm or two might just be what the doctor ordered. 

You pushed your glasses back into position and gave him a smile right back. “And who’s this?”

Before Colter could answer, the man stuck out a hand towards you. “Russell Shaw, Colter’s older brother.”

Your smile dropped as your hopes were immediately dashed. Fuck. Not only was he hot in a very rugged type of way (right up your alley actually not that you’d ever admit that out loud) but he seemed like he would’ve been game for what you were up for, too. Dammit. You forced yourself to shake his hand and not be rude, all the while trying your best not to think about what those hands could do or how that rough, warm skin would feel like against yours. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

The light in his eyes burned brighter. “Y/N. That is a beautiful name.” 

You couldn’t contain the eye roll at the obviously bad pickup line. Perhaps it was best that he was Colter’s brother. Not that you would’ve been doing much talking if he wasn’t, so his flirting skills wouldn’t have mattered. “So I’ve heard.” You cut that off at the knees. “Russell Shaw,” you drew out his name, remembering something Reenie had mentioned before you went through airport security. You yanked out another folder from your case, slapping it down in front of him. “Reenie insisted that I give you this and told me to tell you that you owe her quite a bit for taking care of those fines from Fish & Wildlife and something about a donkey in Tuscaloosa?” You glanced up at him in question. 

He chuckled, sounding nervous, and gave you a reassuring smile. “That’s not— The donkey thing was a misunderstanding.”

Right. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“No, really. We ran into a situation and we tried to free him when these cops saw us and—”

You held up a hand. “I really don’t need the details. It’s fine. But Reenie did say you should Venmo her.”

He pressed his lips together and dropped his gaze to the papers, nodding. “Sure. I’ll get right on that.” You studied him as he studied the paperwork and despite the suspicious donkey thing and your decision to already back off, you kind of wished he would get right on you. 

You heard a throat clearing next to you and turned to find Colter glancing between you, that frown on his face again. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes once more. Whatever, Colter had no business looking like that. He’d had his chance and he’d fucked it up, royally. Instead of giving that pretend jealousy shit the time of day, you snatched a few more fries off of his plate and glanced back and forth between the two men as you chewed. “You two look nothing alike, by the way.”

“He should be so lucky,” Russell teased his brother before turning that smile back on you. You almost wished you hadn’t indulged in an all night booze fest and had a fresh change of clothes. You must look like a wreck right now, more than what you’d seen in the rearview mirror earlier, and you probably smelled like one, too. Desperately trying to tamp down the images popping into your brain of this man underneath you and those hands of his gripping onto your hips, you stole more fries from the plate near you.

“Seriously, Y/N, why don’t you just go get your own food? The trucks are right there.” Colter hated it when you did this which is exactly why you did it. 

You arched a brow over at him as you chewed. “You buying?” When he didn’t answer fast enough, you snatched even more fries from him. “Didn’t think so.”

“I am,” Russell interjected, smirking over at you. “Just tell me what you’d like and I’d be more than happy to get it for you.”

His voice deepened on that last part and it made parts of you clench. You bet he would. Why the fuck did Colter have to have a brother? And why did it have to be this guy who was watching you like the Big Bad Wolf, looking like he would gobble you up the second you’d let him? Who had a roguish grin to match? Besides, based on what Reenie had said during your quick interlude at the airport, Colter’s brother had been hitting on her big time. She had warned you to tread carefully due to his connection to this case Colter was looking into. That his brother might try to charm his way into peeking at the files for his brother that you were carrying among other things, but this information was meant to go strictly into Colter’s hands. You were almost insulted at her implying that you weren’t a damn professional and that you were so easily led by your libido (it had been almost six months which was a damn drought for you). It was almost as if she knew you too well (she did).

Even though you didn’t plan on going there, at all, you couldn’t resist, lifting your sunglasses to your head, not caring how bloodshot or tired your eyes looked. “Anything I’d like?”

He leaned forward slightly. “Whatever you want,” he promised, the look in his gaze making the same vow but for something completely different.

You leaned forward, too. “Well, in that case…” When you noticed him moving an inch more towards you, hanging onto what you would say next, you grabbed his box of fries out from underneath him. You smirked triumphantly and plucked a fry in between your fingers, popping it into your mouth. 

Instead of getting annoyed like Colter had, he quietly laughed and seemed plenty entertained as he watched you pick up another fry that had red sauce partially covering it. “I should warn you. I’m a sriracha on fries kind of guy.”

You glanced at the fry and then back at him, shrugging. “Oh, I’ve had way hotter things in my mouth than this, trust me.” You never broke eye contact as you slipped the fry past your lips, not reacting in the slightest when the spicy taste came into contact with your tongue. Russell’s eyes darkened and you had the distinct feeling that if you weren’t in public right now and Colter wasn’t here, you’d be at serious risk of him testing that theory.

“Okay,” Colter interrupted. “Let’s focus on the case, please.” He almost sounded irritated which made you glance over to see him glaring in both yours and Russell’s direction. You laughed to yourself and continued eating your stolen fries and sipping your modified version of an Irish coffee. As much as Colter’s annoyance amused you, you were also grateful that he was reminding you why you were there. You needed to get your horny ass in check.

“So this is everything Reenie could find on them?” He asked.

You shrugged. Reenie hadn’t exactly given you all the particulars and you assumed that was purposeful on her part for whatever the reason. Not that it bothered you in the slightest; you had your own shit to worry about. Besides, she also implied Colter would fill you in on everything once you caught up with him.

He looked displeased and then shook his head at you. “Why did she even bother sending you?”

You got angry then. How dare he? It’s not like you wanted to be sent on this fun little errand at the whims of the lawyer who was hellbent on helping him at every turn. “Hey. I traveled on two annoying ass flights to get here, dealing with chatty old ladies and misogynistic perverts, to hand deliver you this shit and to assist wherever I can. Without any warning or time to even pack a toothbrush, I might add. All while I have my own caseload to work on, thank you very much. To help you out and fast. So how about a goddamn thank you instead of whatever this is?” You gestured towards him. He went to reply, but you cut him off. “And while you’re turning that ungrateful frown upside down, why don’t you tell me what exactly it is you’re working on?”

Russell spoke up then, prompting you to look over at him. “A buddy of mine went missing and we’re trying to track him down. His wife called me and asked me to look into it. Colter’s helping.”

That quelled your irritation slightly and you pressed your lips together. You could only imagine how sick with worry this guy’s wife must be; you knew that feeling all too well. “I’m sorry to hear it,” you offered, your tone as genuine and sympathetic as you could make it. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Colter watching you, his frown gone, now replaced by the same sympathy you were feeling. You hated it so you decided to ignore it. “How long ago did he go missing?”

“A few days back. He was returning home after a grocery store run but he disappeared from a gas station while filling up.”

Your brows furrowed. “Taken?”

Russell shook his head. “No. He ran off. It looked like someone may have been after him.” 

Colter slid over the file to you, nodding when you glanced at him questioningly. “Doug Thompson. Former military. Now working for these guys as a private contractor.” Well, now Reenie’s explicit instructions made more sense. 

You opened the file and skimmed the papers as quickly as you could. “Wow,” you murmured. “So these guys are no joke.”

“No, they’re not.” You glanced up to find Russell watching you, all traces of any flirtation and humor gone. “But I don’t think they have anything to do with it. I would’ve heard something if they did.”

Your brows arched in surprise, hearing what he wasn’t exactly saying. “You’re working with them, too?”

He gave you a nod. “I am. We do mostly private security, that kind of thing.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the disbelief in Colter’s expression. He wasn’t buying it either. “Which is code for black ops, am I right?”

Russell tensed. Bingo.

“Which means that whether or not they’re responsible, they’re most likely connected to what’s happening. If someone was really after your friend.”

His jaw tightened. “What makes you say that? It could be anyone.”

You shot him a look and shut the file. “Because I was engaged to someone who did this kind of thing and I know how these things work.”

You watched as his eyes widened slightly and he leaned forward, curious. “Was?”

Ignoring that question and no longer as curious about him, you tossed the file back over to Colter. “Bottom line is this firm is where you should be looking first. Carefully, though. We both know how they like to keep their secrets.” You gave him a thin-lipped smile and sipped your coffee, slipping your sunglasses back on and getting up to head over to the food truck behind him. On your way, you spied a young family nearby. The mother was feeding a baby, smiling as she watched her husband spin his kindergarten-age daughter in circles by the arms, making her giggle. You felt an all-too familiar lump forming in your throat but you forced it back down and continued your trek, coming to a stop at the back of a short line, intending on getting your own food. You weren’t really hungry but you needed a few minutes to regain your bearings before you could switch back into professional mode and be of any help to the brothers.

By the time you returned, Colter sent you a sympathetic glance which you promptly ignored and dug into the case as well as your meal. 

Colter sighed when your car pulled away. He had insisted you go check into a room and clean up while he and Russell made some calls, did some digging, and he would call you if something turned up. You had been only too happy to agree.

Russell turned back to him, after watching you drive off. “Oh, I like her.”

“Of course you do,” Colter muttered.

“Alright, you already gave me the sit rep on you and the lawyer. Now I need one for you and her.” He gestured in the direction you had disappeared in with his thumb. “And don’t hold back because she is…” He gave his brother the perfection sign.

Colter shook his head and wiped his hands with a napkin. “There really isn’t anything to report there, either. We had a…weekend about a year back when I was working a case in her town. Then I got a new case in the next state over and we went our separate ways. Nothing ever came of it.”

Russell continued chewing his fries that you had returned before you left, thinking it over. “There seems to be quite a bit of hostility between you two for just a casual weekend.”

Colter folded his arms on the table. “We didn’t end on the best terms.”

His brother chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “Bit of an understatement.” He then wiped his hands clean, too. “So, she’s fair game then, I take it?”

Colter shot him a glare. “No, she’s not. She’s off limits, too.”

“Come on, bro. You already said the lawyer was off limits.” He gave Colter a look. “Are you telling me you’ve got a thing for both of them? Because if you do, I wouldn’t blame you. They’re both—”

“It’s not like that,” Colter interrupted. “With Y/N, it’s… She’s been through a lot.”

Russell nodded and glanced back down at his food. “Yeah, I caught that.”

“The last thing she needs right now is a reminder of any of it.” Russell glanced up to catch Colter eyeing him sharply.

Russell got the message. He hadn’t addressed it at the time but he hadn’t missed it when you claimed to know how companies like Horizon worked or that you had been engaged to someone who worked for one of them. There was obviously a story there. And that combined with your change in demeanor when he mentioned Doug’s disappearance, you referring to your engagement in the past tense, and Colter’s protectiveness of you — Russell had a pretty good idea of what probably happened. It didn’t mean he didn’t like you, though. If he wasn’t mistaken, he had gotten the impression that you had liked him, too. But in the same vein, until he knew what he was working with, he didn’t want to do anything that might cause you to relive anything that you’d rather forget.

“You don’t plan to call her to help with any of this, do you?”

Colter shook his head.

Russell studied his brother, determining if that was the best option here. You were a PI and a damned good one if Reenie Green had sent you to help. It was obvious from his short interactions with the woman that she didn’t suffer fools and there wasn’t a single thing she missed. So he knew you had to be good at your job. Doug was still missing, Tracy was still worried, and they still weren’t any closer to finding any answers. It might be helpful to include you in this. Another pair of discerning eyes was always a good thing. In the end, though, Russell decided against saying anything. Instead, he asked, “So, you sure she’s off limits?” His brother gave him a glare and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m just kidding. I got it. Off limits.” 

He also didn’t mention that he had discreetly entered your number into his phone when you inconspicuously slid your business card over to him. At the time, he had thought you were giving him a greenlight to contact you after this was over, but now he realized you probably had known what Colter was going to do all along.

Instead, Russell mentioned the autopsy report he had stolen from the morgue and handed a copy to Colter to peruse. While he studied the paper, Russell discreetly sent you a message so you also had his number and so he could shoot you a text when the time was right.

You were in a store, grabbing some clothes to have for the next few days, not knowing how long you were going to be needed here, when your phone began to ring. One quick glance at the screen had you smirking. Russell Shaw. You had slyly given him your number earlier when Colter wasn’t looking, telling yourself you were making sure you were included in the case so you could do what you were sent here to do. But another smaller part of you had hoped the man would contact you for a whole other reason. You may not have been thrilled to learn what he did for a living but that little fact didn’t have to ruin any possible fun you two could have, right? 

Sure, you felt a little guilty because he was Colter’s brother but you were also a realist. There wasn’t anything happening with Colter and whatever had was never going anywhere. Plus that had been well over a year ago. In your mind, you were free as a bird. So, you made a move; now it was up to Russell to make the next one. And you were hoping this was it.

You slid the green button on your screen and put the phone up to your ear. “Russell Shaw,” you greeted, making sure your voice sounded something akin to warm honey slowly drizzling over some fruit. “I had a feeling you’d be calling me.”

“Could it have something to do with me texting you earlier that I’d call as soon as I had an update?”

“Tomato, tohmato.” Hearing his smooth chuckle come down the line, you continued to sift through a rack of shirts. “So, what can I do for you?”

“A lot it sounds like, if I’m being honest.” His voice had dipped in register much the same way it had in your presence before but the effect it had being spoken directly into your ear like this…well, it was a good thing you had already grabbed a half dozen pairs of panties to have on hand. While it took you a second to recover, you couldn’t help but smile. You had been right earlier; he was definitely interested.

A woman walked right past you and you lowered your voice further. “Do you plan to find out?”

“You bet your ass I will. As soon as I’m free to.”

Fuck. If you weren’t in the middle of a store right now, you may have just asked him to start talking dirty to you right there. You had only been on the phone with him for less than a minute and already you were digging your teeth into your lip to keep a guttural moan from escaping you. This man had you so turned on you were surprised that you could still see straight or that you hadn’t run to the dressing room to temporarily alleviate the fire he had started in your belly that was blazing a trail down in between your legs. That voice and the way he was using it right now…it was pure liquid sex being poured into your ear. Your irritation with Reenie had abated some when you met him, now it was all but gone as were any warnings she gave you about the man as well as the thought of his younger brother. “Good. I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Oh, I hope you do.” That didn’t make you clench down on nothing, not at all. If this continued, you would be in that dressing room in the next thirty seconds, guaranteed. You were already starting to get seriously aroused at the images playing in your head. 

“Trust me, there will definitely be some type of holding going on,” you promised. 

“Don’t I know it,” he nearly growled into your ear. Holy… That was it. You were on your way to the dressing room. The sign said only three items were allowed at a time but you didn’t give a fuck at the bulkload of items in your arm; this was an emergency.

But what he said next after quietly clearing his throat had you stopping in your tracks. “As much as I’d love to continue this conversation, I only have a limited window of time. But I promise, we will pick this up later.”

You nearly let out a whine of disappointment. You very much wanted to continue this conversation right now but it slowly was coming back to you that yes, there was currently a missing persons case that was supposed to be your first priority. His missing friend in fact. Your brain knew that was more important though your body was screaming for something else. He had promised though that you would continue this later, something you could keep in your mind’s eye at the end of this very long and fucked up rainbow. As long as he dove into your pot of gold at the end, you could hold out a few more hours. “You better,” you grumbled.

Another warm chuckle floated down the line.

You turned to another rack of shirts, aggressively working your way through it. “So you said something about an update?”

“Yeah.” You had to admire how quickly he switched gears. While you were still struggling to get your libido under control and you were irritated, he sounded completely professional and nonplussed, as if he hadn’t been just talking to you with that tone of voice or implying what he wanted later on. “I reached out to one of my contacts and we think Doug might be hiding out in a location outside of town. We’re on our way there now to check it out.”

Shame immediately filled you at the mention of his friend. Here you were, horny as hell, about to go take care of yourself in the dressing room a minute ago and possibly ask him to tell you in explicit detail what he’d like to be doing to you if he were there, and Doug was still missing. You were more professional than that — hell, you knew better than that. You shook off the remnants of the last few minutes and went right into work mode. “Alright, you want me to come along for backup?”

“I’d love to have you back us up, but, uh…” 

You frowned at the uncertainty suddenly coating his tone. He wasn’t one of those guys, was he? That would be severely disappointing if he was and quite the mood killer, not to mention his third strike against him. You needed to get laid but not that badly. Though you hadn’t gotten the impression that he was one of those misogynistic assholes who thought a woman didn’t know her way around the big scary noisemakers known as guns earlier. “But what?” You snapped.

“Colter thinks you should sit this one out.”

Your jaw tightened and you quickly moved away from the mother and daughter that had just moved near you, lowering your voice. “That motherf— I don’t give a flying fuck what Colter thinks. I am not being sidelined.” You fucking knew it. The minute you had heard what the actual case was, seeing Colter’s gaze of sympathy directed at you — you fucking knew he would try to pull this shit.

“I think he’s just worried about you. You know? After what you’ve been through…”

That pulled you up short. “Exactly what did he tell you?”

“Uh, not much. He just thought this kind of situation might hit a little too close to home.”

You muttered a curse under your breath and made your way to the cashier. Fucking Colter. You knew you should have never told him about what happened with your fiance. He was the type of guy who would keep that in mind every time something like this came up. Hell, you were pretty sure that was partially the reason he had bounced out of your apartment so fast at the end of the long weekend you’d spent together. Sure, he had snagged another case, but you would never forget the look in his eyes as he quickly dressed — the same look you had seen at lunch earlier. At that time, you had liked Colter and you didn’t think your past would be something that could be held against you. Even though your time together had been strictly casual, he had talked to you about his father a little bit and he had seen a picture of Nate in your living room. What were you supposed to do when he asked you about it? Lie? After he had just shared something so personal with you? After he had slept with you four times thus far? You weren’t ashamed of your time with Nate and you had loved the man, been ready to spend the rest of your life with him before he lost his. That was just a tragic fact in your life. Never in a million years did you imagine that not only would it kick someone out your door so fast but now it would prevent you from being able to do your job.   

“Is it?”

You had completely forgotten you were still on the phone, silently fuming about this sudden development. “Is it what?” You dumped your clothes on the counter and gave a nod to the cashier in return when she greeted you.

“Is it hitting a little too close?”

You decided to nip this shit right in the bud. “Okay, Shaw, you listen to me and you listen good. It doesn’t matter if it’s hitting too close as you put it, or not. I do my job and nothing gets in the way of that. Just because your asshat of a brother has apparently decided that I’m some fragile flower of a woman that needs protecting from my own feelings doesn’t mean shit. I’m damn good at what I do and I’m a fucking professional. You hear me?” You handed the woman your credit card, noticing she was giving you an approving nod. You had forgotten that she was hearing every word of this side of the conversation. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

That was all you wanted to hear. “Good. Now, when are you going to send me that location so I can meet you?” You took the bag from the cashier, quietly thanking her, and made your way out of the store. 

“Tell you what. We’re only about thirty minutes out. From where you are, it’s about an hour and a half drive. Why don’t you let us check it out first and if it’s no dice, you can meet us on the way back into town? We’ll regroup and work it together from there on out.”

You tossed your bag in the backseat of your car. “Shaw,” you growled. “What did I just say?”

“This isn't that,” he assured you. “It’s a matter of us working against the clock. We’ve got to get to Doug before the guys looking for him do. That’s all this is.” 

You placed a hand on your hip and unclenched your jaw. He had a point and you also heard what he wasn’t saying: you racing up there to meet them would only slow them down and Doug couldn’t afford that. “Alright, is there anything I can do to help from here?”

“Not at the moment but keep your phone on. Depending on how this goes, we may need to lock down an address and quickly. And for that, we’re going to need you. I’m assuming you have an FBI contact somewhere?”

You pressed your lips together and got into your car. “I know someone,” you confirmed. “He owes me a favor or two.”

“I really want to say something right now at the idea of you and favors and me being the one to close out that guy’s tab but I can’t. My window of time is closing in about fifteen seconds.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Pretty sure you just did.”

He cleared his throat one more time, affecting an even more professional tone than you’d heard from him thus far. “Got to go. Keep your phone on. I’ll text you as soon as I know what the situation is.” 

“Okay, will do.” You briefly closed your eyes, deciding the hell with it. “And, Russell?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful,” you quietly urged, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. Despite what you said to him before, hearing speak in a way that was similar to Nate had your nerves sitting a little bit on edge, now knowing what he and his friend Doug did for a living and what he and Colter could possibly be walking into. 

“Copy that,” he responded, making you realize that his limited window of time he mentioned had expired and he was no longer alone. Sure enough, you could hear the sounds of a car door shutting in the background.

“Keep me updated.”

“Will do. Talk soon.” Before you could say anything else, the line disconnected. Even though you’d heard the confirmation of why he had to go so quickly, a part of you irrationally worried for a second that you had probably scared him off. That your warning him to be careful only cemented whatever Colter had said about you to him and why the former wanted to keep you sidelined. You had meant what you said earlier; you were a professional and your personal tragedies would never get in the way of your job. But that didn’t mean that an age-old worry you’d had every time Nate had gone to work didn’t immediately resurface the minute you were faced with a similar situation. And even though you were pissed at Colter, you also didn’t want him to get hurt.

The moment you figured you had screwed yourself with Russell, and not in the good way, an alert sounded on your phone. You glanced at your screen and saw a new text message from the very man you had just been thinking about. 

“We’ve got this. I’ll text you the minute we’re done checking it out.”

A small smile formed on your face and you texted back a genuine “Thank you”. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and get your head back in the game. You still had to find a motel to check into and you also had to be ready in case they did end up needing that address Russell had mentioned. You quickly looked up motels on your phone, weeding out the ones with the worse reviews, and settling on a place. You fired up Google Maps and started the car, intent on getting a room and firing up your laptop to check on a few cases to keep you busy while you were waiting. That had always been the worst part for you: the waiting. Waiting for a phone call or text to let you know Nate was okay after a job even though he couldn’t tell you the details of said job. So you were determined to place your focus elsewhere but also be ready in case you were needed. 

You truly hoped the brothers found Doug alive at this location they were headed to and that the danger, if any, was minimal. That it was truly nothing the two couldn’t handle together.

Russell quickly hung up with you the minute Colter hopped back into his truck. His brother had stopped to get some coffee at Russell’s insistence though Colter had kept repeating they shouldn’t be stopping. When the latter didn’t immediately get out to go get the beverages after they parked, Colter arched his brows expectantly. Russell had given him a wide smile. “Mind getting it quick?” He waved his phone at the man, indicating he needed to make a call.

Colter looked less than pleased but gave him a nod, most likely assuming it was a call to one of Russell’s contacts that should remain unknown as his older brother had intended, and left. Russell removed his sunglasses and immediately pressed the phone icon next to your name, calling you.

Now, he definitely knew three things: you had lost someone to this type of work, you were a little bit of a spitfire and he liked you even more now, and he was definitely going to pay you a visit after he closed up this whole thing with Doug and got the man back to his wife in one piece. 

Sure, when he’d first seen you, you had been somewhat hostile but entertaining and you’d been a hot mess. One hell of a hot mess in his opinion. Then you’d been flirty, checking him out, and you had even stolen his fries to use them for implications that definitely hadn’t been lost on him (or Colter for that matter, the glare his brother graced you with when you weren’t looking he hadn’t seen since they were kids). Though he’d clocked your change in demeanor when Doug’s situation was brought up and hadn’t missed your evading his question about your engagement status, he couldn’t resist eyeing you up as you walked over to the food truck behind him, nearly whistling at the perfection he was staring at. Not to mention, he liked your spunk and that only made him want you that much more. Then when you plopped back down with your food, completely in professional mode and talking over the case quickly before Colter sent you off, he was even more impressed and he just knew he had to take his shot with you. Under him, over him, to the side of him — whatever you wanted, he was game. No matter what Colter had to say on the matter. Unless his brother had feelings for you, he was going for it the first chance he got.

Colter handed him his coffee, nodding at Russell’s thanking him. “You get anything?”

“Nothing more than we already know.” He placed his sunglasses back on and sipped at his coffee, feeling slightly bad for lying to his brother. He knew Colter’s “off limits” was more about protecting you than it was anything else. But he also had just gotten his brother to start talking to him again, to work Doug’s disappearance with him, and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Nothing within reason, anyway. So a little white lie needed to be told; he’d done it before and way worse. Besides, he also didn’t think it was fair that Colter didn’t allow you the decision of whether you wanted to be involved in this or not. While he could appreciate his little brother looking out for you like the good man he’d turned out to be, everyone deserved to make their own well-informed choices. Considering your ex had been former military turned private contractor, you more than knew what you were dealing with. You had made a good point earlier: your history shouldn’t impact the job you had come here to do. And far be it from Russell to be the one to stand in your way and keep you from doing just that. Plus, they could really use your help if this safehouse Ann had given them didn’t pan out. 

Colter nodded and backed out of the parking spot. “Onward to the safe house. No more stops, right?”

“Right,” Russell confirmed. While Colter was distracted, he discreetly adjusted himself. There had been a moment in your conversation there that he had been tempted to tell you just how hard your sexy-as-hell voice and heavy flirtation had gotten him. But he knew once he did that, there would be no going back and either he’d have to jerk off in his brother’s truck (which would just be awkward especially if Colter returned quickly) or he’d have to somehow sneak into the coffee shop and make his way to the bathrooms so he could rub one out in there. Though that might also prove to be awkward if anyone else walked in to overhear the absolutely filthy things he would be murmuring into your ear from a stall, all of the promises he’d make about what he wanted to do to that sweet body of yours as soon as he had the chance, the sounds of him whacking it echoing loudly in the small space along with his deep groans. There had even been once or twice he’d gently rubbed the bulge in his jeans as you talked, only backing off when it got to be too much and he was about to break, close to ordering you to go somewhere private where you could touch yourself as well while also making sure you could be loud enough so he could hear every amazing sound he knew you would make. Hell, when you’d laid down the law to him, he’d nearly unzipped his jeans and stuck his hand inside to get some relief right there. Not that he didn’t hear what you were saying, not that he didn’t respect it or you, but damn if that little bit of fire you’d thrown his way didn’t turn him on even more. When he had answered you with “Yes, ma’am” a part of him had definitely been saluting you, no doubt about it.

Then he heard someone talking to you in the background, presumably a store clerk since it sounded like you had been told an amount for whatever you were buying. He had the quick thought, or hope, that maybe you were in a Victoria’s Secret or one of those places, buying a little something for him to unwrap you out of later on. Realizing just how much lust had fogged up his brain during this conversation, he dropped his head back against the seat, shut his eyes, and compulsively swallowed. He was immediately determined to keep his cool for the rest of your chat, especially when he opened his eyes to see Colter holding the coffee shop door open for an elderly couple walking inside, coffee cups stacked in his other hand. From there, he’d kept things professional and brief, though he hadn’t been able to resist getting that one last tease in before Colter opened the door. 

And then he’d heard your warning, detecting a note of worry in it, so he’d done what he could to reassure you with the text message he just discreetly sent you. He appreciated the fact that while this case might be stirring up some feelings from the past, you still had gone ahead and told him to be safe. He knew it was meant for both him and Colter, you obviously knowing how dangerous the job could be, but he was still getting used to him being included in that group. It was a little strange for him if he was honest. Other than Tracy saying it when he would pick Doug up for a job and the occasional conversation with Dory where he mentioned he was about to go to work, there was no one else who told him to be careful, to be safe. He found he kind of liked the idea and that only increased his appreciation of your situation, especially now having an even better idea of what you might be currently experiencing. He was no stranger to trauma, that was for sure, and so he could only imagine the thoughts racing through your mind right now, you being pissed off at Colter or not, you having just met him or not. He didn’t intend to give you cause for any more worry. No, he intended to give you something else when all was said and done. He couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.    

But now — now, it was go time. He needed to clear his head and focus on the job. He needed to get Doug back to his wife alive. Colter had made Tracy a promise that both brothers were intent on keeping. And Russell had made you a promise, one he was determined as hell to see through. 

You were just leaving the bathroom wrapped in a towel, your hair damp and sitting on one shoulder after you just squeezed the water out of it, when you heard a knock on your motel room door. 

You frowned, wondering who it could be, thinking maybe it was Colter. He always had a way of finding you when that was the last thing you wanted him to do. Truthfully, you had bitched him out earlier when he called you to inform you that he had just successfully delivered Doug back home to his wife, alive and unharmed. He and Russell had found the man at the safehouse and he told them who he had been running from. While Colter didn’t share that information, you gathered from what he did share that it had something to do with a job he and Russell had done for Horizon in the past. You kept your mouth shut but you shook your head. You knew it. Doing that kind of work was always dangerous and always carried risks like that. 

They made the long drive back and now the case was closed. Something you already knew thanks to the text message Russell had sent you already confirming this but you didn’t let on to Colter that you knew. Instead, you proceeded to tell him to stop treating you like a fragile porcelain doll and from there it quickly became heated between you two. The conversation ended soon after with neither of you willing to budge and you let out an aggravated sigh when you hit the end call button. You were grateful he and Russell were okay, but the former could drive you up a wall sometimes. If you could go back in time, you would definitely have told him to get lost when he showed up on your doorstep that one Friday night.

That immediately made you think of Russell and you realized you hadn’t texted him back yet. Colter had called right after you received the text message, with you assuming they had just gotten back into an area with service, and he had told you they had Doug and he’d call again when they got him safely home. You had sat on pins and needles, trying to focus on your most prevalent case, but the worry gnawed at you. Colter’s tone had not been his usual calm, devil-may-care one. It was coated with concern, not something you heard from him too often. So you had been distracted until Colter called you again and then the rest was history.

You slid over to Russell’s name on your screen and tried to call him but it went straight to voicemail. A different worry began to gnaw at you this time, the worry that you had indeed scared him off earlier. He had thought twice about it and decided you weren’t worth getting involved with, not even for the casual one night stand. The disappointment sat in your chest for a moment until you got angry. Between the argument with Colter and now Russell bailing on the plans he had implied to you that he wanted to keep, you were done. You hopped up and grabbed the bottle of whiskey you had purchased earlier, twisted off the cap, and took a swig. Well, it looked like it would be another dry night for you and your trip out here had been a complete waste. Colter hadn’t wanted your help and now you weren’t bumping pelvises with his hot older brother either so it was a lose-lose for you. As usual.

You swigged some more whiskey before deciding it was time for that shower you had been craving since this morning. Sure, you could take care of yourself in there and it might ease some of this angry tension in your body that Colter had helped to create, but you were too annoyed. You had angrily slammed your laptop shut and headed for the bathroom, intent on washing all of the bullshit from the last twenty four hours away.

And now, Colter had decided to show up. Of course he had. He might have a thing for Reenie that he refused to acknowledge (as did she), but he was angry (something not usual for him), worked up, and you were in town. Of course he’d show up wanting a repeat performance of the angry sex you’d had in the past. While you could really use the lay to get you out of this drought you found yourself in, you had no desire to go back there and you were definitely not in the mood.

That didn’t mean you wouldn’t give him a tease of what he couldn’t have, though. Not after that argument. Which is exactly why you decided to answer the door dressed (or underdressed) as you were. But when you angrily swung the door open, the person staring back at you in momentary shock was not Colter Shaw. You were shocked yourself; how the hell had he found you?   

Russell’s gaze darkened as he took all of you in. You noticed that he had changed his clothes and his hair looked slightly damp, as if he had recently taken a shower himself. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice dipping in register again. 

And just like that, as if a button had been pressed with that deep tone of his, you were back in the mood. You smirked and leaned against the door. “Hey,” you silkily replied. “Not the Shaw brother I was expecting.”

“But the one you were hoping for, right?” Russell’s wolfish grin was back, completely undeterred by your teasing.

You pretended to think it over for a moment. “Depends.” You grabbed at his jacket and yanked him in closer to you, making him chuckle as you swung the door shut behind him. “What does this brother plan to do?”

“Like I said,” He used that voice again, making goosebumps rise along your skin. “Whatever you want.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.” You lifted up and wrapped your arms around his neck, the movement forcing the towel to fall from your body, as you pushed your lips to his. You ran your fingers through his hair and greedily kissed him, nearly moaning into his mouth when his tongue delved into yours and his hands palmed at your ass. If he moved those fingers a little lower, he would find you already practically dripping for him. If you weren’t so busy trying to keep your balance as he proceeded to devour you, you might have marveled at the effect this man had on your body.  

A moment later, he gripped your ass tightly and picked you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. You could feel the covered bulge against you and you couldn’t help trying to grind a little against it, trying to get some friction.

When you both needed air, you moved to his neck, yanking his head backwards and making him chuckle as you went to town on him. You could also hear him letting out tiny groans above you as he tried to catch his breath. It was one of the hottest fucking things you’d ever heard and you intended on hearing more before the night’s end. “I should tell you before we go any further,” he panted.

“Mmmm, the only thing I need to know is if you’re clean. Because I really want that in my mouth.” You reached below to squeeze his erection, making his breath catch that was then let out in a quiet hiss.

“I-I’m clean,” he assured you.

“Good, me too,” you murmured, nibbling on his ear. “You just need to make sure to pull out and we’re golden.” 

“Okay. I, uh, I also came packing.”

You moved your hand over him and squeezed once more, earning another drawn out hiss of “shit”. “You certainly did.”

He moved you back so he could look at you, his eyes the darkest you’d seen them yet. He cupped your cheek, gliding his thumb along your bottom lip before gently placing it inside your mouth against your tongue. You sucked the digit in further, moaning around it. His gaze was so transfixed on your mouth that you couldn’t help but snicker and release his thumb with a pop. “Russell.”

His gaze slowly trailed upwards to meet yours.

“Was there something you wanted to tell me?” You teased as you rubbed earnestly at his erection. 

“Uh,” You noticed his eyes close briefly when you rubbed near where the tip was located. You could feel a little wet spot forming on the denim underneath your ministrations and it made you grin. “Uh, Colter said you were off limits.”

Your hand immediately stopped its motion. Oh no, that motherfucker had not. He had no claim to you and whatever moment you two had back in the day had long since passed, along with the several women he’d bedded after you including Reenie. There was no way in hell he got to play the dibs card or tell you and Russell, two consenting adults, what to do. You planned to tell him that the next time you spoke with him, if you ever did again. For now, though, you only wanted to focus on the man whose fingers were hungrily roaming over your bare ass and lower, groaning when he found your own wet spot.

You cupped his chin, making sure he was looking straight at you as you stated in the sexiest voice you could manage, “I think you mean no limits. Right, Russell?”

He groaned and held you to him as he hurriedly walked you over to the bed. “Fuck, I knew I liked you.” You let out a giggle as he tossed you gently onto the bed that was quickly cut off by a moan when his body immediately covered yours and his tongue plundered your mouth.

A sudden thought occurred to you and you nearly chuckled against his lips. You had seen the way he had been eyeing you up earlier today and you realized you had the man completely pegged right then. Because just like the Big Bad Wolf, he proceeded to consume you completely, before the tables turned and you did some devouring of your own.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[kaciidubs]

24 to 25 [Merry Christmas] | 8 Days of SKZcember

Prompt: meeting each other's family for the first time over the holidays

❣ Summary: There was a first for everything, and Christmas in Australia was definitely one of them. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 2.07k ❣ Warnings: Fluff, comfort, Chris is a doting boyfriend, slight humor, the whole Bang family is here ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, and Baby, Reader is referred to as Baby, and Love, unedited, this was meant to be short, not over 2k words ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ SKZcember 2023

Having family living in a different part of the world often meant having to visit whenever time off would allow; however, having a boyfriend in the industry whose family also lived in a different part of the world apart from your family meant those visits were even rarer.

“...and once again, we would like to thank you for flying with us this Christmas eve.”

Toying with your fingers subconsciously, you glanced out of the window of the plane at the vast expanse of land thousands of meters below, your stomach doing flips in the meantime.

“Baby?”

A soft touch brought you out of your thoughts, turning your head to see Chris’s hand covering yours with a gentle squeeze added for good measure.

“If you’re nervous about the landing just close your eyes - you can even close the blind if you want?”

Your heart fluttered and you had to stop yourself from swooning at how cute he was, squeezing his hand back with a small smile, “It’s not the landing that I’m nervous about, Channie - well, not entirely nervous about.” Looking down at your entwined hands, you deflated slightly in your seat, “I’m just worried they won’t… like me, you know?”

You were both currently on your way to Australia to visit Chris’ family for the holiday; the decision being made after a long winded debate and heavy consideration over you not wanting to take the opportunity away from his visiting home, and him not wanting you to sacrifice seeing your family just for him - the resolution resulting in two plane tickets and the promise of the next vacation dedicated to your hometown.

Chris scoffed your name lovingly, “You’re worried over that? You know my mom adores you, and my dad asks about you whenever he calls - and you already know how Hannah is, you guys basically talk everyday! Hell, even Lucas brings your name up, you know how rare that is?”

“Hannah doesn’t count cause I’ve already met her - but your mom, dad, and Lucas? We’ve only ever talked over the phone, it’s different from meeting in person - what if I’m not what they expected?”

“Love, look at me.”

Looking at him with a soft pout, he gave you a comforting smile, eyes shining with a fondness you’d fallen for time and time again.

“My family is going to love you, because I love you, okay? They’ve heard me talk about you so much that my mom actually started threatening me to bring you to visit!” When you cracked a smile at his confession, he felt a wave of relief wash over him, “Everything’s going to be fine, yeah?”

Giving him a small nod, you watched as he pressed a small kiss to your knuckles just as the seatbelt light turned on and the plane prepared for its final descent.

It wasn’t long until the plane touched down and you were both following the line of passengers toward baggage claim and car rentals, Chris claiming that having more than one car would be best this time around.

“Alright,” he clapped his hands, seat belt buckled and car running, “Hannah knows we’re on our way - apparently Dad’s busy grilling and Mom’s running around trying to make sure the house is in order.”

“And your brother?”

“Waiting to catch Mom’s reaction when we walk through the door, I’m sure.”

The time between the car pulling out of the rental lot and rolling down the familiar streets of Chris’ childhood neighborhood seemed too short to be true, and you found yourself fidgeting with the strap of your seatbelt as you looked through the window.

“Baby, you’re doing it again.”

Huffing out a short laugh, you shook your head, “I’m just excited - nervous, but excited. Don’t act like you wouldn’t be doing the same thing if you were meeting my parents!”

He puffed out his cheeks, “I wouldn’t!”

“Chris, you practiced talking on the phone for ten minutes before we video called my family for the first time.”

His silence was enough for you to laugh harder, cooing at the blush tinting his ears as he pulled the car into the driveway.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to gather your bags - or, rather, for Chris to gather the suitcases like the gentleman he was while you handled closing the trunk after - and make your way up the short path to the front door.

He looked at you with a glittering smile, tilting his head toward the entrance, “Ready?”

Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to quell the butterflies in your stomach and nodded, signaling him to ring the doorbell.

The sound of muffled barking soon followed suit, Berry readily alerting the home of their potential guests.

“Coming!”

No less than a second later, the door swung open to reveal a bright eyed Hannah, a wide smile stretching her lips as she practically flung herself into your arms with an excited squeal of your name.

“You made it! Oh my god, hi! Welcome to Australia!”

You hugged her back with a laugh, “Thank you! It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“I’m here too, you know.” Chris muttered, though the smile on his face betrayed any attempts of annoyance he tried conveying. “Your older brother? The person you grew up with?”

“Exactly, I grew up with you which means I’ve seen enough.”

“Hey!”

Breaking from the hug, she led you both into the house as she went to find the rest of the family, leaving you and Chris in the foyer with a very excited, yet curious Berry.

Your boyfriend wasted no time in crouching down, baby voice in full effect, “Hi, Berry! Berry! Hi! I missed you! I missed you so much!”

The king charles spaniel jumped onto his arms, panting happily before falling back down with a series of excited barks and tail wags, then turning her attention to you with similar gusto. 

Bending down, you offered your hand for her to sniff with a small smile, “Hi, Berry, it’s nice to meet you! Chris talked about you so much, part of me thought this trip was just to see you and no one else.” When her curious sniffing stopped, she ducked her head under your hand for you to pet her, which you graciously accepted, “Oh, aren’t you the cutest? You’re the best girl, aren’t you?”

The sound of footsteps broke you from your puppy praise break and you stood just in time to see his mom rushing around the corner with a bright smile on her face, “Oh my goodness!”

Taking the initiative, Chris stepped forward with an equally wide smile, an air of sheepishness surrounding him as if he were a teenager bringing home their first partner. “Hi, mom.”

She wasted no time in pulling him into a hug, holding him in her arms as much as she could despite how grown he had become - the epitome of a mother’s hug, always ready to cradle their child no matter how much they’ve changed.

Your heart swelled at the display, catching a few murmurs of how much she missed him and how big he’d gotten until she pulled away to look in your direction.

“I feel like I’ve heard so much about you already that I don’t even need an introduction,” she laughed, letting her son out of her arms to stand next to you, “but I’ll let him tell me anyways, I know he’s been practicing this moment.”

“Mom, really?”

“That’s hilarious,” Lucas snickered from the sidelines, which gave you the chance to notice him holding his phone, most likely recording for future memories.

Huffing lightly, Chris took your hand in his and you squeezed in earnest, watching him relax considerably. “Mom, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend,” he turned to you, a warm smile on his lips, “and this is my mom, the person responsible for giving me life.”

“And your good looks,” she teased, stepping forward to bring you into a hug similar to the one she gave him; welcoming, comforting, accepting. “It’s so nice to finally meet you - pictures do not do you justice!”

You could feel yourself melt in her embrace, your previous nervousness vanishing into thin air, “It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Bang.”

“Oh, please, it’s an honor finally meeting the person who’s responsible for my son being this happy,” holding you at arms length, she gazed at you with sparkling eyes, “I’m so happy you’re here.”

Just as you went to give another complement, the smell of grilled meat wafted through the air and Chris all but floated off of the ground; a weary sigh escaping him as he eagerly looked toward what you could only assume to be the kitchen.

“I missed dad’s grilling so much.”

“Good, cause he’s been at it all day,” Hannah shrugged, looking at you with a smirk, “He made one of everything - I’d like to think of it as pregaming Christmas dinner.”

Their mom let you go and headed through the hall, “I’ll go help with setting the table - Chris, your room is all set if you want to drop off your suitcases and give her a quick tour, other than that I’ll call when dinner’s ready.”

He gave her a short hum in response, sharing a quick hug with Lucas and a brief introduction between the two of you before guiding you to his old room - or, better known as the room you’ll be sharing for the next few days.

“If the bed’s too small, I can always camp out on the floor, you know.”

You scoffed out a laugh as you danced your fingers along the carefully laid out blanket, “You say that as if we don’t practically sleep under each other already - this is perfect, baby.”

You couldn’t help but take in the details of his old room, scanning over the posters and pictures that decorated the walls, and spotting the board of medals that laid propped against the floor - not that it was hard to miss considering the wide array it held. Before you could get entranced by any more trinkets and hidden gems, his hand gently grabbed yours and he pulled you into his space, trapping you in his arms with a careful gaze.

“How are you feeling so far? If you’re tired from the flight I can always ask my dad to save you a plate for later, he’ll understand and-”

“Baby, I’m okay!” Wrapping your arms around his waist, you smiled up at him, “I’m not tired, and I’m not worried anymore - meeting your mom made me realize I had nothing to be scared about, and just from smelling your dad’s food I know we’re going to get along just fine!” You narrowed your eyes slightly, tilting your head with a soft pout, “Are you okay? Not that I hate the sudden check in, but you seem stressed, Chris.”

Heaving a deep sigh, he ultimately relaxed in your arms, a tired smile falling on his lips, “I’m okay- more than okay, actually, I’m just…” He stared at you, brown eyes warm with love, “I guess I’m just excited over having you here with me, with my family - I want to make sure everything’s perfect and I’m not pushing you into things too soon.”

Cooing at his sentiment, you laid your head on his chest, surrounding yourself in his scent and warmth. “Channie, you’re not pushing me into anything, you hear me? I’m happy we decided to come here, and even if we haven't been here long, I already feel more than welcome.”

His hold on you tightened a bit more as he rested his cheek on the top of your head, grounding himself in the moment until his mother’s voice floated through the hall.

“Chris! Food’s ready!”

“Well,” pulling away from him, you shot him a teasing smile, “ready for your first family dinner featuring your extremely brave girlfriend?”

He chuckled at your antics, “My brave girl, for sure - I was born ready for this.”

As you led the way out of his room, his phone vibrated in his pocket and he snuck a glance at the screen to see a text from your mom; your family’s flight still on schedule to land tomorrow morning.

Biting back his grin, he sent a quick text in return before grabbing your hand and guiding you toward the dining room.

“Dad, there’s someone I’d like you to meet!”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay

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[wildflowerluver]

when we are together

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

5 times jack pushes you and aaron together and the one time it works

cw: reader gets injured, mutual pinning, jack also gets hurt (very minor), bau reader, she/her pronouns 

wc: 4.9k

༺♡༻

1. carpool

you had first overheard hotch complaining about his car troubles to rossi.

everyone drove the same bureau issued suv. it was odd for one to have an issue and not the others. emily laughed and joked to the group about it being ‘old man troubles’ to which he rolled his eyes. 

“it’s going into the shop after work. standard maintenance.”

you finally butted in when hotch debated what rental car to get. 

“i can just pick you up tomorrow if you’d like. i drive in your direction anyway,” you offered. “save you the trouble.”

hotch raised an eyebrow. “are you sure? i have to get jack to school too.”

you waved your hand. “i’ll pick you both up at eight.”

true to your word, you pulled up to hotch’s apartment complex a few minutes early and shot him a quick text to let him know you were outside.

jack came barreling out first, hotch not far behind. his  backpack bounced as he ran and lunchbox hit against his leg. 

“hi y/n!” jack exclaimed as he climbed into the car. hotch greeted you with a quieter hello as he buckled jack’s seatbelt and circled the car to get in the passenger's seat.

you stayed quiet while driving, focusing instead on navigating. hotch had asked jack about his day ahead in an effort to make small talk. the young boy perked up and began rambling off about everything he would be doing at school. you were impressed with how much he seemed to enjoy learning.

it was only a few minutes before you were pulling up to jack’s school as per aaron’s directions. you quickly parked while aaron got out of his seat to help jack out of the car and get his backpack on.

before he exited though, you twisted around to say goodbye to jack and wish him a good day at school. 

he waved up at you with a toothy smile. 

“maybe you and dad could drive me to school together more often.”

you and aaron met each others eyes in a mutual agreement.

“i think that can definitely be arranged.”

2. work

it was rare that jessica couldn’t watch jack. her job and schedule allowed her to care for the young boy after school and when aaron was away on cases. 

today, however, she got swamped with a last minute series of meetings and was out of town for the day. she let aaron know as soon as possible but not quick enough for him to find another sitter.

that meant one thing, jack would have to spend the day at the bau.

aaron coached his son the entire drive over on the proper behavior. it was a paperwork day, thankfully, and he made sure jack knew that everyone on the team had a lot of work to get done. that meant no bothering them.

despite the warning, jack was practically bouncing the entire way up, more than excited he would get to spend an entire day with some of his favorite people on the planet.

members of the team greeted jack as he made his way around the bullpen. morgan even slipped him a lollipop he stole from garcia for the occasion. when hotch had begun to guide his son up towards the office, you offered to let jack sit with you.

hotch tilted his head. “are you sure?”

“i don’t have a ton of files to get done. he won’t be a bother.”

hotch brought a spare chair over to your desk. he thanked you again and disappeared into his office. you knew the young boy would need entertainment of some kind while he waited.

you took a spare piece of paper from your desk and a few pens. jack took them eagerly with a thank you and got to coloring right away.

it was far from a distraction. his scratching on paper served as white noise more than anything.

he seemed to finish after a few minutes, sliding it over to you for approval. you beamed when you saw the drawing. it was you, him, and hotch at what looked like the park. some of the scribbles were a little tough to decipher but you got the gist.

“wow jack!” you exclaimed. “i think we might have found your hidden talent!”

jack giggled, taking the picture back.

“wanna go show your dad?”

the boy was sliding off the chair and running up the steps towards his dad's office before you could stop him. while the offer was made, you were unsure if hotch was in a meeting. the door was already open, though, and jack headed in with ease.

“dad! dad! look what i made!” jack quickly exclaimed. hotch looked up from his file, expression softening as his son handed the picture.

you entered the office next, apologizing for jack’s sudden rogue behavior. hotch held his hand up, lips upturned in a small smile. 

he kept the photo framed on his wall.

3. career day

there were plenty of events at jack’s elementary school that were spread throughout the year.

he had an art show, a holiday concert, and even a mini science fair. aaron had done his best to make it to the ones he could, but there were times when work conflicted and he felt awful.

jack had another event, career day, in just a few days and the team had yet to be called in for a case.

this was a big deal for him. once aaron had told him he would be in attendance, jack seemed to work extra hard and checked every single morning to make sure his dad would still be there. typically, jessica would also attend with or without aaron but she was away on a work trip.

as happy as jack was that aaron would be there, all of the other kids in his class were bragging about both of their parents taking the day off.

haley wasn’t around anymore and his aunt was busy. 

jack asked his dad before he got out of the car for school. one of the aids had handed aaron a flier with a reminder for the event. in the back, jack piped up.

“can y/n come too?”

aaron glanced at his son through the mirror. he knew how important this event was for jack.

“sure, buddy. i can ask her today.”

jack’s career fair was that friday during your lunch break. the students would be dressing up as their future careers and even prepared a presentation for the parents who had come to see them. 

despite not being able to make it, jack had enlisted jessica’s help to make his outfit a total surprise. 

aaron and you had left a few minutes before your scheduled break to ensure enough time to make it to the school. you had to admit, hearing that jack wanted you at such a big event for him and being invited made you tear up. 

you quickly found seats in the auditorium. jack’s teacher had given a brief speech before releasing everyone to walk around the room.

jack was in the back corner. you and aaron both beamed when you say his career choice.

he was dressed in a suit, one of aaron’s ties around his neck though it was much too long for his body. he had a little bag beside him and an id clipped to his collar. he looked like aaron.

jack immediately ran into his dads legs, squeezing him tightly. you were next.

“hey buddy,” you greeted. “what did you dress up as?”

“i’m an fbi agent!” he exclaimed proudly. “i wanted to be like you and dad.”

you glanced at aaron who pressed his lips together. “you wanted to be like us?”

“yeah! i couldn’t be a superhero so i chose the real thing.”

both you and aaron collected jack in your arms at his words.

aaron stayed close to you and jack went through his entire presentation: what an fbi agent was, why he picked it, and how he can practice in his everyday life. it was adorable.

it was finally time for the career fair to end and jack had hugged you both again before running off with his class. you and aaron needed to get back to work too. aaron drove you two back to the bureau, leaving the radio on at a comfortable volume.

“thank you for coming with me. i know it meant a lot to jack.”

aaron was truly grateful. jack adored you and deep down, aaron always worried that his son would struggle with emotions and opening up after losing haley. but with you, he was the opposite.

you leaned over the center console to squeeze his hand. a small intimate gesture.

“of course. anything for either of you.”

4. emergency room

you loved watching over jack whenever you could. 

all of the team, minus you and morgan, had a conference out in wisconsin over the weekend. it wasn’t odd for certain members to not go, the bureau chose who they thought would discuss the content the best.

you volunteered to watch jack in aaron’s absence. 

you headed over to the hotchner residence immediately after work on friday. the rest of the team would be heading out that night for the conference on saturday and sunday.

jack was ecstatic that you were watching him. he even made a list of movies he wanted to watch and games he wanted to play.

of course you had been in aaron’s apartment before, but he still showed you around and pointed out where specific things for jack were. he stopped by his bedroom, motioning you to drop your bags. 

“you can sleep in here. i changed the sheets and all before you came but there’s also fresh linens in the hall closet.”

he had said it so casually you couldn’t help the blush that formed. you really hoped he didn’t notice.

you had to practically shove aaron out the door after the makeshift tour. he was running late for the airport but you could sense his nervousness about leaving jack. he finally kissed his son on the forehead and squeezed your shoulder. 

“good luck at your conference.” you giggled when he rolled his eyes, clearly not excited for it. “try and have some fun.”

“i doubt it.”

the weekend with jack went by smoothly. you did everything on his agenda and spent some time in the city too. it was honestly relaxing to be with the boy.

aaron had texted you before he had left wisconsin, sending the flight information and arrival time. you had responded with a simple ‘safe flight!’ and ventured into the kitchen to make jack dinner.

jack was bouncing around as you cooked. he missed his dad and was excited for him to get home. you warned him gently to be careful and he simply giggled before taking off around the apartment.

you thought all was good until you heard a loud crash and an instant cry.

after shutting the burner of the stove off, you wasted no time in running to find jack.

he was sitting on the floor on the hallway, the table knocked over and a picture frame scattered on the floor. your heart plummeted when you saw the blood on his forehead and hands.

you’ve had training for this. you’ve literally saved people's lives but seeing jack injured seemed to make you falter. 

you quickly took him in his arms and brought him into the kitchen, grabbing a towel to his cut. you needed to slow the bleeding before anything. you used your spare hand to wipe away jack’s tears.

“it’s gonna be okay, jackers. i promise.”

his verbal crying had subsided but the tears still flowed. your heart ached.

after a few moments, you removed the cloth and winced. he would definitely need stitches. “i’m gonna take you to get cleaned up, okay?” jack nodded.

you scooped him into your arms, quickly grabbing your phone and keys.

the drive to urgent care went by thankfully quickly. jack kept the cloth pressed to the cut and was taking it like a champ. you knew he would be okay but anxiety still nipped at your head.

doctors took jack back right away. you relayed what happened and that you were his babysitter. thankfully with aaron’s status at the bau, not much information was needed for you to write down.

when you went to follow them back to jack’s room, you were stopped. it was standard protocol for them to not let friends or family back while they operated. as much as you wanted to go and be with him, it simply wasn’t allowed.

you squeezed jack’s hand quickly, reassuring him that he would be okay. your eyes stayed on him until he was led out of sight.

you needed to call aaron.

the team was mingling about on the jet, all immersed in a game of poker while rossi slept somewhere else on the jet. hotch’s phone rang and he placed his cards down to pick it up.

hotch barely had time to answer with a hello before you were apologizing. 

“aaron i’m so so sorry,” you cried. 

“y/n what happened? where are you?”

“i’m at urgent care,” aaron’s heart fell at your words. “jack fell and cut his head. aaron i’m so sorry.”

you were crying again when you finished talking. he could tell you were trying to muffle your sobs with your hand.

“y/n,” aaron needed to calm you down before anything. “is jack okay?”

“yeah yeah. they took him back to get stitches but they said he was going to be okay. i’m sorry i was supposed to be taking care of him.”

“it’s okay. as long as jack is being taken care of, that's all that matters. i’m sure it was an accident.”

you’re already protesting his words. “but i-”

“y/n,” aaron’s voice is stern. “it’s okay. i’ll meet you at urgent care when we land. shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes.”

he was going easy on you and you knew it. 

the thirty minute wait seemed to go by agonizingly slow. a doctor had come into the waiting room and let you know that they were beginning the stitching. the cleaning had taken longer than intended.

you shut your eyes when someone sat down next to you. you knew it was him. you knew you should turn and talk to aaron but the guilt was all consuming.

he finally took the first words. “how’s jack?”

“he’s good. getting his stitches now. aaron i’m-”

“y/n, it’s okay, really. please don’t apologize again. accidents happen,” his words were gentle. you stayed quiet, knowing you would apologize again if you opened your mouth.

aaron’s hand moved to your knee, effectively stopping the anxious bouncing and squeezing to reassure you of his words. 

he kept his hand there until a doctor came out to which he stood up, professionalism seeping into his expression.

“you can go first,” you offered once the doctor had informed you that jack was ready to be seen. it felt dumb to have to vocally tell him to go.

aaron was having none of that. he reached down to take your hand in yours and hoist you to your feet, pulling you after him to jack’s room. aaron entered first, hugging his son tightly.

“hi jackers,” you greeted quietly after stepping into the room.

the young boy bit his lip as tears welled in his eyes. “i’m so sorry.”

aaron looked at his son. “what for buddy?”

“i was running when i wasn’t supposed to and i got hurt.”

you took a seat on the bed beside him, carefully wrapping an arm around his shoulder. he leaned into you as aaron occupied the other space beside him.

“it’s alright. i’m just glad you’re okay.”

5. hurts

there was always a risk when a friend, a lover, anyone close to you was in a potentially dangerous line of work.

you and aaron had gone through it a few times with him and foyet and various members of the team. you, however, hadn’t ever been directly put in danger.

that was until this case.

the unsub was profiled as a misogynistic, psychopathic serial killer whose signature involved overkill of women. every female in the immediate area was absolutely terrified. 

you didn’t think much of it at first, especially not when you, spencer, and emily had been sent to a suspect's house. the fear only set in when all traits of the suspect had pointed to him being the unsub and you were the one who got attacked first.

hotch nearly lost it when he found you unconscious and bloody. your face had been beaten, nose swollen and lip split. he dropped down beside you, taking your head in his hands and yelling your name in pure fear of losing you until j.j. had gotten the emt’s.

you thankfully didn’t stay in the hospital very long, just overnight. all of your wounds had gotten cleaned and stitched up but the doctor had diagnosed you with a pretty nasty concussion. you were just glad it was a local case so you didn’t have to wait to fly home.

hotch had insisted that he watched over you for at least the first night. there had been other volunteers but no one was going to argue with their boss. 

you had strict concussion protocol for the first night. you would need to stay up as late as you possibly could and once you fell asleep, someone would need to wake you up every few hours. it sounded exhausting.

if hotch had any issues with it, he didn’t voice them.

you were still pretty out of it on the drive home. aaron had loaded your bags in his car and kept a secure arm around your waist to help you in the passenger's seat. he even made sure to take the least bumpy route to his apartment.

you stayed leaning against the wall of his apartment hallway as aaron knocked before unlocking the door. jessica was greeting him right away, echoing that jack was in the kitchen eating dinner. the rest of their conversation was fuzzy. your head was pounding and it felt like too much to try and tune in and listen.

“y/n?” aaron’s voice was suddenly close.

you hum as you opened your eyes slowly. 

“let’s head in,” his hand fell to your shoulder as he led you inside. jessica must have left because you could only hear jack in the kitchen.

you collapsed on the couch. aaron went into the kitchen to greet his son and get you some medicine.

despite doctor’s orders, sleep was beginning to feel like a good idea. but as your eyes started to slip shut, you heard a patter against the floorboards.

“y/n?” jack’s voice was small. you knew he had never seen you like this. “are you okay?”

you sat up, patting the spot next to you for jack to climb up. “i’m alright, jackers. just got a little hurt.”

an idea seemed to pass over jack’s face and he lit up. “oh! i know how to help!”

you tilted your head to the side. sure jack was smart for his age but you didn’t know how he could help your injuries. 

“how?”

jack smiled. “kisses! dad and aunt jess always say that kissing my hurts will make them feel better.”

you bit your lip. the young boy's heart made you tear up. “well i certainly want to feel better.”

jack clambered forward, placing a soft kiss to the cut on your forehead, the bruise on your cheek, and the brace on your wrist.

aaron opened his mouth, a warning for his son to be careful on the tip of his tongue. but when he saw you smile, he stopped.

“dad!” jack twisted around to face his father. “your turn!”

aaron shook his head. “sorry buddy, i think you got them all.”

jack shook his head, pointing towards your very split lip. “nuh uh. i made sure to leave one for you.”

oh. 

aaron ruffled his son's hair. he wanted to defuse the brewing situation. as willing as he would be to kiss your injury, it was wrong, unprofessional. “her lip needs to heal. i can’t kiss it.”

“but y/n won’t feel better!” jack sounded clearly in distress. “please?”

both you and aaron knew jack’s stubbornness, something he got from his father.

“alright,” aaron’s voice was softer now.

he circled the couch to stand in front of you. jack babbled on about how he also had special spiderman bandaids in his room and he would even let you have one. aaron’s eyes met yours. it was a silent agreement between the two of you.

aaron ducked down to kiss the corner of your mouth, lips ghosting over the stitches. 

it was a surge of emotion but one that you knew he was only doing for jack. his lips left yours much faster than you would’ve liked.

“do you feel better?”

jack’s question broke you out of the trance you were in.

aaron had kissed you. indirectly, yes, but it was still a kiss.

“without a doubt.”

+1 movie night

you and aaron hadn’t discussed the night after the case. though in all honesty, you hadn’t stopped thinking about it. 

once you were cleared again for the field, cases seemed to pick up which left less than sufficient personal time for you and aaron. you missed him. 

you were the first one in the office friday morning. you had gotten there early to get a headstart on your paperwork in hopes that it meant not having to stay late.

aaron was in next. he usually gave you, or whoever else was in the bullpen, a nod and a quiet ‘good morning.’ today, he changed his route and circled around to your desk.

“are you busy tonight?”

you nearly sputtered out the coffee you were drinking out of pure unawareness of where this question was going to lead.

you shook your head. “assuming we don’t have a case, i’m not.”

“good,” aaron started. “jack wanted to have a movie night and he’s been dying to see you and i wanted to see if you wanted to come over?”

his voice seemed to go up an octave towards the end, as if to cushion the non-existent blow of the question. 

you beam. “i would love to.”

aaron’s eyes lift. it’s not a smile, those are rare even for you, but it’s close to it.

“perfect. does seven work?”

you nod.

“great, we’ll see you then.”

you hide your smile in the file you’re working on.

right as aaron had instructed, you showed up at aaron’s apartment right around seven. you knocked twice, stepping back to wait for the door to open. when it did, you weren’t met with your tall solemn boss, but the smaller hotchner.

“y/n!” jack exclaimed, surging forward to hug your waist. 

you giggled, hugging him back. “hi jack.”

aaron appeared behind his son, lips upturned at the sight of you two. “hi,” you greeted him. 

“come on in, it’s all set up.”

you let aaron take your bag. usually on nights like these, you and aaron stayed up much later than you expected and you crashed at his place instead of going home.

you took a seat at the edge of the couch, letting aaron decide the distance between you two. when he returned, he sat a few feet away. it wasn’t enough to be inferred as him clearly trying to make distance but it wasn’t close enough either.

jack had clambered into his dad’s lap, curling into his chest with just enough vision to still see the movie.

once he had settled, however, his head turned to where you still sat. he extended one of his hands, opening and closing his fists in a grabbing motion. he wanted you closer.

“i wanna lay with you too.”

“of course jackers.”

you smiled and scooted a little closer to aaron. you looked up at him cautiously. being close to jack meant being close to him too. aaron didn’t respond verbally. he lifted his arm from where it sat at his side to rest along the back of the couch. open invitation. 

you curled into aaron’s side, legs pressing against his. jack wasted no time in readjusting himself to be strung across the both of you. you could feel aaron’s eyes peer down on you but you didn’t meet his gaze. instead, you settled further into the couch and watched the screen.

as the final few scenes of the movie played, jack began yawning and rubbing his eyes. you knew it was his bedtime but would fight until the movie was over. you brought your hand to his back, running your fingers up and down to help soothe his tired state. 

when the end credit popped up, aaron leaned to shut off the tv. “alright buddy, let’s get you to bed. can you say goodnight to y/n?”

jack slid fully into your lap, arms interlocking around your neck to hug you.

“goodnight y/n. thank you for coming over.”

“goodnight jack,” you spoke, squeezing him a little tighter.

when you let go, the boy wasted no time in all but sprinting down the hall to pick out the bedtime story aaron would read.

“i’m going to get him ready for bed,” aaron started. “i shouldn’t be too long.”

you smiled up at him. “take your time.”

aaron too disappeared down the hall and you were left to your own devices. 

you knew he wanted you to wait in the living room but your overnight bag was discarded in his room and you really wanted to wash your face and get in more comfy clothing. 

you tried to be as quiet as possible as you walked down the hallway, fully intent on going into aaron’s room just to grab your bag. that was until you heard the conversation between aaron and jack. you stayed pressed against the wall next to the door.

guilt climbed in your chest at what you were doing but what the hotchner boys didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“-don’t get it.” that was jack.

you could almost see aaron’s eyebrow quirk. “what don’t you get, buddy?”

“why aren’t you and y/n dating yet?”

you suck in a breath, cheeks turning rosy at the question. you absolutely knew you weren’t meant to hear it. the thought of turning away and completing your original task passes over but you want, need, to hear aaron’s response.

“i don’t think she likes me like that, bud.” 

“she does,” jack nearly giggles. “she talks about you a lot.”

you just got betrayed by a seven year old. 

aaron seems to change the conversation after that and that’s when you tune out, replaying aaron’s words over and over. i don’t think she likes me like that. does that mean he liked you too?

you’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice jack’s door open and aaron step out.

he sighed, not surprised in the slightest at seeing you waiting. “i know you heard all that.”

busted. 

you stammer, trying poorly to come up with an excuse.

“come on,” aaron’s hand is strong as he guides you to his room. “he just got to bed, don’t want him waking up while we talk.” 

fear courses through you. you could lose your job over all this. dramatic reaction but still a possibility. above all, however, you could lose aaron personally. it was already a barrier you felt like you were pushing

“jack sometimes doesn’t think before he asks a question,” aaron starts. oh. “i’m sorry you had to hear that.

he was sorry?

“why are you sorry?” you’re trying to save yourself the potential heartbreak.  

aaron sighs.

“i’m your boss. it’s unprofessional to have feelings for my subordinate. you watch my son too, i don’t want you feeling like i’ve been taking advantage of you.”

you wanted to laugh. aaron was always overly professional with his words.

“i really like you aaron.”

he didn’t respond at first and for a moment you think your confession was a little too strong. but then his eyes meet yours and he smiles.

“can i kiss you? properly this time.”

you hummed. “please.”

aaron’s lips met yours tentatively. his hands cupped your cheeks effectively holding you to him. it was new, though not unwelcome.

you leaned up to loop your arms around his neck to pull him closer. 

aaron pulled away first and you whined, clearly upset at the sudden lack of contact. you had waited ages to kiss aaron and in no way did you expect for it to end so soon.

“relax baby,” aaron chuckled. your heart leaped at the pet name. “need to adjust.”

he sat down on the bed. arms snaked around your waist to pull you close to him.

“so you like me too?” the question slips out before you can think about it. 

aaron leans up to kiss the corner of your mouth, the same spot where your cut had turned into a scar. 

“i do.”

[roosterforme]

Here's a fluffy blurb for the nonny with the new Bronco neighbor. May you enjoy every happiness in life.

Ouchie

Bradley looked at his wife laying next to him in bed. Her hand was resting on his chest, and her lip was a little bit puffy from being overworked by his mustache, but she was smiling softly, eyes closed and lashes brushing her cheeks. 

"I'm still shocked that you agreed to go out with me, let alone marry me," he muttered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I must have looked like an idiot that first day we met."

Your soft laughter left him grinning as you ran your fingers through his chest hair. "No, you didn't look like an idiot. You were sweet."

Another uhaul truck. The cute little rental house across the street from yours seemed to have a new tenant every other month. As soon as you took a freshly baked treat over to meet your new neighbor, it felt like they were moving out again. Maybe this one would stay longer?

"Sweet Lord," you muttered when you set eyes on him. He was tinkering around under the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco on the driveway next to the uhaul, and he looked up to smile at you as you parked in your own driveway. You wouldn't mind if this one stuck around longer.

When you climbed out of your car, his soft eyes were still looking your way, and you saw that he had a mustache too. Well, you didn't have any fresh out of the oven chocolate chip cookies for him, but you definitely wanted to get a closer look.

"Hi," he called out with a smile that just made him look even more handsome, and he waved the wrench in his right hand in greeting.

"Hi," you replied, walking toward the street, and he looked so happy that you were coming his way. You felt giddy inside, and somehow your feet got tangled up at the curb. 

"Oh, no," you gasped, falling as if in slow motion. Your palms hit the pavement first followed by your knees. And yeah, the scrapes hurt, but the sting of mortification washed over you just as fast. You wanted to disappear and reappear in your bed which you were never going to leave again after this. Because your hot new neighbor was rushing over to get to you as you scrambled to your feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked, skidding to a halt in the middle of the street. Why was he stopping in the middle of the street? You looked down at your hands as the small cuts started to bleed, and you just held your palms up for him to see like some sort of weirdo.

"I'm fine," you replied sheepishly. But he winced and started your way again as a car pulled down the street. 

He slipped his wrench into the pocket of his jeans and reached for your hands. His thumb stroked gently along your wrist, and then he glanced up at you. "Ouchie."

And you couldn't help but smile at his sweet expression of concern. "Yeah. Ouchie."

Then he blushed, probably realizing what he had said, but he didn't stop stroking your wrist. "If it makes you feel any better, I actually hit myself in the face with my wrench earlier while trying to change my oil."

You laughed at that. "You know... that does somehow make me feel a little bit better." 

"I'm Bradley," he said, giving your wrist a little squeeze.

You told him your name and then asked, "Do you like chocolate chip cookies?"

"I like all cookies," he replied easily.

"Perfect," you said softly. "I always make some for my new neighbors. Maybe after I get my hands cleaned up, I'll bake them for you."

Bradley nodded once, gently lacing his fingers with yours, but still careful not to bump your palm at all. "Want me to give you a hand?"

"No," Bradley disagreed. "I looked like an idiot. The first thing I said to you was 'Ouchie'. Who even says that?"

You laughed and rolled on top of him. "That wasn't the first thing you said. It was like the second or third. And you were so sweet, and I was already mesmerized by your mustache, so it didn't really even matter."

"And then I almost burned down your kitchen."

You pressed your lips together to try to stifle your laughter. "Okay, yes. That's true."

"And you still agreed to go out to dinner with me," he said, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I sure did. There's just something about you." You slid up a little further and kissed his lips as you whispered, "Ouchie."

[milktei]

Love at First Rental

Wise x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, meet-cute

Warnings: None

a/n: hello! it’s been a while. recently i’ve been playing a ton of zzz (interknot level 43 already o-o) and it’s such a silly game and i love wise <3.

also recently i’ve been coming to terms with the fact that it’s okay if my fics are shorter than i’m used to so hopefully my i can post more things in the near future

“I don’t understand girls, let alone virtual ones.” Something wise told his sister half jokingly when they were first introduced to their new assistant Fairy. He was just so busy with proxy duties, running Random Play, and making sure that Belle didn’t run into trouble that he never really put much thought into meeting new people and going on dates.

Unfortunately for him, there was currently a really pretty girl in the store and he suddenly wished that the opposite was true.

He hopes he didn’t seem too creepy from where he stood behind the counter watching as you perused the collection of the store. 18 was in the staff room with Belle for some maintenance after it started counting change wrong, so Wise opted to just take over the store for the short amount of time it would take.

It was both a blessing and a curse that you just so happened to walk into the store at that moment.

From what he could tell you hadn’t been to the store before, you definitely weren’t a regular and it didn’t seem like you had any specific film to pick out in mind.

‘Just let me know if you need any help’ he wanted to say, but his mouth stayed shut. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, his mouth was dry, what if his voice cracked?

He forced his eyes away from you to look at other customers, the luckyboo to his left, the window outside. Anything but you, staring was rude after all.

“Excuse me.” Wise gripped the edge of the counter tightly, the voice was unfamiliar but deep down he knew. Such a nice voice couldn’t belong to anyone else that was in the store. He swallowed, turning his head to look at you.

You make eye contact and it takes everything in him to not let his legs give out.

He smiles, hoping it didn’t look too awkward, “How can i help you?” He asks calmly *calmly*.

You smile, and Wise nearly melts. Was it normal for a stranger to have such a big effect on him?

“I’m gonna be honest I’m a bit overwhelmed with the selection you have here,” you say sheepishly, “I was wondering if you had any recommendations?”

His hands start sweating as he mentally starts going through the store’s catalog, “Of course, you have any genres in mind?” he mentally pats himself on the back for not stuttering.

You take a moment to think, “Honestly I’m just looking for a film that’s calm, something I can watch to wind down. So anything like that? Even a good documentary would work.”

Wise nearly shouts in victory. A documentary? Perfect, absolutely perfect. “Well actually I enjoy watching documentaries, depending on what interests you I would recommend…”

Wise spends the better part of ten minutes making recommendations, and why he enjoys specific films. To his surprise you’re listening to every word and nodding along, even asking questions as he talks.

Eventually, you settle on a film to rent and Wise is pulling up the stores system to start the transaction.

“Can i have your number?” he says suddenly as you pull out your card to pay.

You look at him stunned, “Pardon me?”

Wise’s eyes widen as he realizes what he just said, “F-for our system!” he coughs, “Just to keep track of what you’ll be renting, a-and if you like you can sign up for a membership too.”

You blink, “Um, actually yeah I’d love to sign up.”

His gaze snaps to meet yours, usually it took a bit more convincing from customers. “That’s great!” he manages to say, was it getting warm in the store? “I’d just need you name and your number then.”

The rest of the transaction relatively goes smoothly. With him now knowing your name and having your number—for the membership of course—along with you promising to swing by the store again and talk about more movies with him.

The door to the shop finally swings shut behind you, and Wise drops his head, leaning on the counter with an embarrassed sigh.

It’s then that he hears a snicker to his right and he looks up. His sister stands there with a fixed and waving 18, and an amused smirk on her face.

“…How much did you-“

“Oh just the last bit,”

Wise groans and drops his head again.

[briarpatch-kids]

hi! do you have any tips on talking to doctors/PTs about mobility aids?

I definitely got way better results talking about how I want to live my life and a mobility aid would help a lot. Have a goal like "I want to be able go around my house instead of moving from bed to couch and nothing else" or "I want to have an active life in school and a mobility aid would make that possible" because in a doctor's mind mobility aids are usually a last resort. (Even though they aren't) Your goals should be less, "I dont want to be in so much pain" and more "i want to live an active life or i want to go to college/start or stay working/engage in student life and I think a mobility aid will help that" because "less pain" is a vague goal that will make more ableist doctors worry that you're "giving up" or that you'll live a sedentary life and end up sicker than you would have if you didn't have the mobility aid. (Which is probably untrue. Very few people want to sit around and do nothing.)

If you're undiagnosed, pitch it as a "in the meantime" thing, meaning like, you want to figure out what's going on, but you also don't want to live in limbo just waiting to get better. I got my first wheelchair by telling the doctor that I'm tired of waiting for a diagnosis and wanted to stay in college while we tried to figure out what was going on. All of that is true, but by then I also knew that whatever was happening was degenerative, and I probably wasn't gonna ever be able to go back to "normal" like the doctor thought I would.

If they want you to do PT, do it. Give them the same goals you gave your doctor and try your hardest to work on them. A lot of times things like "I did the exercises you gave me but they made me worse" are actually important for the PT to know because it can help narrow down what WILL help and will help them come up with realistic goals for your therapy. Also, physical therapists are the ones who usually determine what kind of mobility aid you need and will send you to things like a wheelchair evaluation if you need custom mobility aids.

The custom mobility aid process in the US is usually doctor -> physical therapy -> wheelchair evaluation with PT and DME provider -> durable medical equipment company for specs -> insurance fuckery and approval -> ordering -> delivery or pickup and maybe a seating evaluation plus adjustments. It takes like 6 months plus, so try and get a rental standard version of what you need while you wait)

[indigosunsetao3]

Chapter 5

Surprise visitor

AO3 (Full list of tags/warnings. Please check them.) Masterlist 4.5k Words

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Simon was sitting on the back porch, half laid with the flooring and the skeleton of the built-in seating when he heard the car pull up. It wasn’t unusual to hear cars on the street as of late. The true tourist season was just around the corner, but closer living locals were already coming in on the nicer days to get their properties set for the season. Or to drop their boats in the water and get them in their slips before the more coveted marinas were fully sold out.

But it was odd to hear the crunch of gravel in Celeste’s driveway as the vehicle came to a rolling stop and the car sat there idling. It wasn’t a delivery, too small of a car for that, and it definitely wasn’t Celeste either. He had seen her leave a few hours before for work, and it wasn’t nearly enough time for her shift to be done.

Curiosity peaked, Simon pushed up from the spot where he had been reading, stepping carefully over the exposed support beams to peer at the trees that split the property border. There he spotted a small SUV, brand new and shiny in the sun, and a woman sitting in the driver’s seat texting on her phone. He stayed where he was to watch what she was up to. Perhaps she was lost and had wandered to the wrong address for her rental. Or she was attempting to sell something. If that was the case, he would be promptly going inside and ignoring the knock on the door until she went away.

But then the woman climbed out of the car, tucking her phone away, and went to the trunk to dig out a suitcase—two suitcases, a large backpack, and a tote bag that was threatening to bust with how overstuffed it was. Clearly, she had the wrong address for the rental. Still, Simon watched quietly as she dragged her things over the gravel to the backdoor instead of the front. Interesting.

Digging out his own phone, he sent a quick text to Johnny asking him to swing by the café to see if Celeste was still working. He had gone into town with Kyle, taking pity on the guy who was moping around the house. Simon looked pointedly the other way when Kyle climbed on the back of Johnny’s bike and slipped his good arm around his waist. Not for jealousy of the closeness, Simon had watched the two of them together much closer than that, but because he knew it was reckless.

If Johnny slipped, if there was a wobble, the chance of injury to both of them was high. But Simon also knew Kyle was so close to snapping at being handled like a child he kept his mouth shut. Johnny was an excellent driver, and it was just to town. He had to trust him. But John would definitely not hear anything about this trip.

We’ll swing by there next. Everything good?  Fine. Just has a visitor at her place. Don’t know who it is. Don’t want her coming home if it’s unwelcomed.  Softie  Piss off

The woman had ditched her bags by the rickety patio table set, and Simon had to step off the deck and walk toward the lake a bit to get a better look at what she was doing. She was picking up rocks in the landscaping by the door and flipping them over before sighing and picking up another. She was looking for a key Simon quickly realized. After a few more tries, she found what she was looking for, pulled the small tab on the fake rock back, and tilted it over to find no key inside.

When she dropped the plastic rock back into the dirt, she stood up, wiped her hands on her pants, and looked around as if to see if anyone saw her. Simon was careful to stay shrouded in the shade of the trees, and she didn’t spot him as she stepped into the garden and moved to push on a window that didn’t budge. Whoever this person was, she was determined to get inside the place, and Simon was about to find out why.

Simon kept his footsteps light and quiet, which was a feat that he was unusually skilled at despite his size. He sidestepped all the fallen branches under the trees and shuffled through the dead leaves that no one had cleaned up after last season before going around the back of Celeste’s garage. The woman had no idea he was even there as she shoved herself between a bush and the house and tried pressing on another window. Well, she may not have known, but the little orange cat locked in on him and stared unabashedly before pawing at the glass where the woman huffed up at him.

“Goddamn it, Celeste, since when did you become the epitome of house safety?” The woman complained as she twisted and attempted to get out of the bush. Her hair was tangled up in the branches and Simon stared at her with his arms crossed over his chest as he saw her flail about trying to get out. He was a few feet away from the backstep watching her, and when she finally saw him and shrieked, he didn’t flinch.

“Who the fuck,” the woman startled as she nearly fell over, crushing the bush under her as she lost her footing.

Simon didn’t bother to help her as he watched her, though his lips quirked up under his mask as he watched an embarrassed expression break over her face. She clearly had not been anticipating an audience, and a man that was nearly twice her size had scared the shit out of her. Perhaps that would teach her to not break into people’s houses.

“Who are you?” The woman asked once she got herself free and stumbled back onto the back steps so she felt like she had the higher ground. She was still shorter than him, even at this angle, but he had to give it to her that despite the startle and huge eyes, she was standing her ground. Most would have run. “And why are you on this property?” She added on before wiping away a leaf that was brushing the side of her face, ruining some of her bravado.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Simon answered as he sized her up. “Since you are the one breaking and entering into someone’s house,” he replied, “or attempting to anyway. Doesn’t seem to be working out that well.”

“I’m a friend,” the woman answered after a second, narrowing her eyes at him. “She must have forgotten her own keys at some point because the spare she keeps out here is missing,” she explained, pointing to the fake rock. “So again. Who are you?”

“Her neighbor,” Simon said simply. “Saw you rummaging around and thought I’d see what you were up to. The bush seemed to keep you occupied enough though. Clearly, she doesn’t need an alarm system if these are the type of burglars around here.”

“I’m not a burglar. Would a robber know where someone kept their spare key,” she hesitated, clearly realizing that, yes, someone breaking in would potentially know where a key was. She changed tactics quickly. “You’re lucky I didn’t attack you,” the woman snapped as she smoothed her hair a bit. “How do you know I don’t have a knife or something?”

“I’d say you’re the lucky one in that situation,” Simon replied flatly. This short woman would hardly be a challenge, and he knew she was all bluster because there wasn’t anything remotely intimidating about her. Physically anyway.

When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he pulled it out to take a look and saw a message from Johnny stating Celeste was still at the café. Then, another question about sweets that Simon ignored as he shoved the phone away again. “If you’re a friend, why are you here locked out when she’s at work? You’d think she would have left the door unlocked for you or the key.” He looked at the fake rock and made a mental note to promptly get rid of that. There were better ways to hide keys and secure a house.

“She didn’t know I was coming; I wanted to surprise her…I live pretty far away,” the woman answered, pointing toward all the luggage. “I wanted to try to get in, clean up, and surprise her when she got home. But it looks like I’ll be sitting out here until she gets off shift in,” she paused and looked at her watch with a huff, “four hours.”

“Give me proof you know her, and I’ll let you in,” Simon answered as he uncrossed his arms to not seem as intimidating. Though the woman hardly seemed like she would fall for intimidation tactics. After the initial startle, she didn’t back down from Simon’s stare, nor did she fumble in her words or actions. She was willing to stand toe to toe with him, a rarity.

“Proof? How about you give me some proof,” the woman snapped. “How do I know you’re not some creepy stalker or something?”

“I’m Simon,” Simon said after a second, “I live next door with Johnny, Kyle, and John. Moved in a few weeks back. I’m sure Celeste has mentioned something to you if you are that close of friends. John and Johnny managed to piss her off already.”

“Mmm,” the woman muttered under her breath as she narrowed her eyes. “Fine, yes, she has. Hasn’t said much about you aside from the fact you wear a skull mask.” She looked pointedly at the mask that was across his as if to indicate ‘exactly that’. She held her ground for a moment, testing him before sighing and digging out her phone. “What proof do you want?”

“Give me her number. I’ll see if it matches,” Simon bluffed. Celeste had never given any of them her number. As she rattled it off without having to even look at her phone, Simon typed it in his and hit save before looking up at her. “Anything else?”

“Fucks sake, this the inquisition?” She asked before huffing and tapping into an app and holding up her phone to show him. It was pictures of the two of them together. She swiped through them quickly to show how many she had before raising an eyebrow as if to ask if she passed the test.

“Fine,” Simon relented before gesturing for her to step aside. If this woman was a problem it wouldn’t be that hard to dispatch her. And he was more than curious to see exactly what Celeste got up to inside of her house. She barely spent any time in it, so he had a faint idea of what it was.

“You have a key?” The woman asked as Simon dug out his wallet and flipped it open before pulling out a card.

“Not exactly,” Simon said as he grabbed the small brass doorhandle and yanked the door up and to the side before shoving the card in the gap. It took two more shoves and a bit of wriggling before the latch popped and the door opened. “No deadbolt on the door,” he offered as the door swung open, and the woman stared at him slack-jawed.

“Solidifies you are a creepy stalker,” the woman answered giving him an up and down glance before moving to shove him aside. “I’ll be getting her a deadbolt, chain, perhaps a baseball bat, and alarm system before I leave,” she rattled off, looking over her shoulder at him.

“I won’t tell you the ten different ways I could get around those without breaking a sweat then. Let you sleep better at night.” He smirked behind the mask as she glared at him, her mouth falling open a little bit at his brashness. “Military,” Simon replied in explanation as he held out the card between two fingers for her to take. It was his military ID, conveniently missing his picture. “You learn a few things,” he smirked as she snatched up the card and read it over before shoving it back at him.

“Sure. Well thanks for letting me in, you can go now,” she said dismissively as she attempted to block the door.

“Still not sure you aren’t up to something,” Simon answered as he followed her into the kitchen, crowding her space. “What’s your name?” As if he’d know if that was a friend of Celeste’s or not, he had barely spoken to the woman.

“Listen. I’ve just gotten off a four-hour flight, one wrong train stop, a two hour drive and fought with a car rental place for that horrendous thing out front. If I was coming all the way out here to cause issues, I clearly am a shitty criminal with low ambitions.” When Simon raised his eyebrow at her for the unanswered question, she rolled her eyes. “Alice. I’ve known Celeste since we were kids. We have cheesy matching tattoos, I was in her wedding, and if you look hard enough I’m sure you can find our old yearbooks somewhere when we had braces and pigtails. We done?”

“Alice,” Simon answered with a nod as he leaned against the kitchen counter as Samson winded around his legs. The little thing had taken to hounding Simon when he was outside for scraps, and when no one was looking, he had slipped him bits of chicken and steak. Apparently he now thought Simon walked around with food in his pockets.

“Simon,” Alice shot back pointedly. “Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?” She asked as she looked down at Samson, who was brushing up against the hulking man's black jeans. When he didn’t answer, she huffed and twisted to continue her inspection. “This place is ten times worse than I expected, I’ve got my work cut out for me. Here I was hoping I could soak in the gigantic garden tub for a bit.”

Simon glanced around the kitchen for the fourth time, eyes lingering on the doorway to the living room beyond before going back to Alice. It wasn’t in bad shape. Dated. Perhaps a bit dusty atop the fridge and cabinets where Celeste wouldn’t be able to see or get to without a stepstool, but it wasn’t awful. Some plates in the sink, plants that needed watering but otherwise it seemed to be in relatively good shape. Stark but Simon wasn’t one for decorations either.

“You seeing something I’m not?” Simon asked as Alice pulled open the fridge, peered in then scoffed. It was barren inside as well.

“She’s lived here for a few months now,” Alice answered as she shut the fridge, moved to the kitchen pantry, and pulled open the door. “And it looks just as empty as when she sent me pictures from the day she moved in.”

“If that’s a sign of an issue, then I’d hate for you to see our home,” Simon replied as she started inspecting boxes of food and putting them on the kitchen table.

“She’s never been one to live like this. I bet all her things are still in boxes because she,” Alice paused with a sigh. “You know what? Not your business. So,” she stated as she opened the trash with her foot to throw away expired food. “Either you can go back to whatever it was you were doing, or give me hand hauling in my luggage and tell me where the nearest grocery is.”

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

Tomorrow. Tomorrow and the day Celeste had been dreading would be upon her.

It was on constant repeat in her mind. One more day and it will have been a year since he had left. A full year without him. She was a full year older while he was perpetually frozen at thirty-seven. She’d keep aging. Keep moving on, keep living, and eventually surpass his age while he’d still be that same man. The one that had bemoaned the stray white hairs that had started cropping up in his beard and questioned if his hairline had receded. Fuck. She’d never see him grey. Never see that bald spot she promised to rub for good luck as she teased him. And he’d never see the small streaks of grey that had started in her own hair.

Fisting her shaking hands to keep them under control, Celeste stared at her reflection in the bakery case to get herself together. She couldn’t start crying behind the counter in front of all these people; customers, her boss, and coworkers. She couldn’t take the stares but most of all she couldn’t take the questions. Some of them had figured out who she was, of course; they knew her husband’s family from having grown up here, but most treated her like a mystery, and she wanted to keep it that way. It hurt to see her old friends and family without him at her side and to see their pity. But it hurt even more to try and explain it to strangers and hear the condolences that were a year too late. A year. Fuck, no, she needed to get out of that spiral.

“What else do you need help with, Carl?” Celeste asked as the man appeared from where he had gone for yet another smoke break.

“Ah,” the older man replied as he glanced around the area. “Just refill the napkins and the coffee stand? It’ll just be me here tomorrow with you off,” he stated, his voice sounding a bit put out.

“Mmm, it’s mostly me here even when you are here,” Celeste muttered to herself, though she nodded and headed out to the floor to start checking the napkin holders on all the tables.

She worked on refilling everything, from the napkins to the sugar packets, the straws, cup lids, and any other small thing she could think of. It would keep her busy for the last bit of her shift and be one less thing for her to do when she got back to work. The rest of her coworkers did pretty much the bare minimum, only refilling when things were empty, and that would end up with her having to do it all anyway.

The busy work helped keep her mind occupied, when she was idle that was when the thoughts would creep in. That fact alone had almost made her not take the next few days off but after a very long phone call, where Alice had threatened to call out for her, Celeste had put in for it. She wasn’t sure what she would do all day though. Perhaps just try to sleep through them, stare at the water for hours, and avoid every single phone call and text. She knew his parents were going to the gravesite but that wasn’t something she had been ready for. It was going to be hard enough to face them for dinner.

As she fought to shove a pack of napkins into a container, the rumble of a bike caught her and half the café's attention as it pulled into the parking lot.

Bikes in town were normal in the warm months, but at the moment, they weren’t. The only ones Celeste knew of were her neighbors and sure enough it was them, though they had only brought one bike and were riding together. They lingered on the bike talking, and Celeste peered up a few times from her work to find both of them with their visors up, staring at her. Surely not. She was far from the window and not worth the attention, but as she made eye contact, one waved.

“Know them?” A customer asked as she walked over causing Celeste to jump a bit as she returned the wave halfheartedly.

“Oh, I mean…I guess? Not really well, though; they’re my neighbors,” she confessed with a small shrug. “We see each other around.”

“They moved into that broken down place?” The woman asked a bit shocked. Of course the woman knew where she lived, which wasn’t weird at all. “Flippers I bet, looking to make quick money.”

“Perhaps,” Celeste said as she watched the one with the injured arm, Kyle, as she came to learn against her attempts not to learn about any of them, climbed off the back of the bike first. “They travel a lot for work, could be their vacation spot.” Why did she know that? Perhaps because of the constant rotation of cars and the only person that seemed to stay no matter what was Kyle.

“As long as they are quiet,” the woman sniffed before handing Celeste her plates for her to take, ignoring that she was busy with other work. “Those bikes are horrendous.”

Celeste didn’t answer as she took the dishes to the kitchen and glanced at the clock. Ten minutes left. Surely she could ride them out hiding in the back. Take her time getting her things together, linger washing her hands, and make a show of double checking her time. She was too tired to get into anything else and was honestly afraid if she found something to do it would keep her past her shift. Then Carl would try to rope her in to cover yet another smoke break that could range from fifteen to thirty minutes.

Right at the four o’clock mark Celeste punched out and flitted right for the door. She avoided eye contact with anyone working and tugged her jacket tight around her shoulders, the spring air still a bit chilly. She knew she needed to stop at the store for food, her last bit of deli meat gone with dinner the night before, but the idea of going shopping was daunting. Maybe there was some cereal in the pantry she could eat and then shop tomorrow to get out of the house. If she even had the stomach to keep anything down.

While she started up her car she spotted Johnny and Kyle walking out of the small convenience store next to the café. They were chatting and she watched as Johnny snatched Kyle’s bag away to carry it before stuffing it in the bike bags and handing him his helmet. Despite neither of them was nearly as large as Simon, Celeste found herself fascinated at the fact they both fit on the motorcycle. Both were tall, Johnny stockier compared to Kyle’s more lithe form yet they made it work. Johnny slipped on first and Kyle behind him, adjusting a few times for his arm before he reached around to grab Johnny’s waist. It was an intimate enough position to sit like that, but as Johnny grabbed Kyle’s knee to tug him closer and didn’t let go, Celeste raised an eyebrow. Perhaps they were more than just joint investors in the house. Not that it mattered to her she told herself as she threw her car into drive to pull out of her spot.

She didn’t want to know anything about them, didn’t want to get friendly with them or allow them to know her. She vowed to keep her circle small after everything that happened. Death brought out the worst in people, and she truly learned who her friends were. The less people she had around her, the less heartbreak she’d have to deal with down the road.  Yet as she waited at the light, she watched them pull up behind her in the rearview mirror, and when Johnny gave her a polite nod, she returned it with a half-smile.

You home yet?

Celeste jumped as her car read out her text message and she sighed before answering. Alice had been checking in constantly. Despite the long distance between them physically, she never let that stop her from reaching out. She called, texted, video chatted and any other form of communication she could figure out to keep Celeste engaged. As of late Celeste hadn’t really been keeping up her side of friendship, not initiating conversations and letting messages go unanswered for a day or two at a time. But Alice didn’t begrudge her and still continued to stay ever present. The one real friend she really had left.

On my way mom. I left work on time for once.  Good. I’m starved.

“Shit,” Celeste muttered. She had forgotten they were supposed to have a video dinner date and movie night. Alice was going to chew her a new one for eating cereal out of the box. She was already on her for looking exhausted all the time and suspicious as to why.

The drive home was uneventful, though she kept glancing up as Johnny and Kyle followed behind. It was odd to have anyone around on the ride home, the cottage so far out of downtown. They kept a respectful distance, but she smirked a bit as she spotted Kyle pressed tight to Johnny’s back and let his other arm extend out in the wind. She noticed Johnny sped up a bit to toy with him and laughed a bit to herself as Kyle abruptly wrapped his arm back around Johnny and held tight.

She was so engaged in watching them, eyes darting between the road and the mirror, the SUV in her driveway startled her. Celeste had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting it and she rocked in her seat before glancing at her cottage. She didn’t recognize the car, running through the mental list of her former in-law's vehicles. Surely they wouldn’t surprise her with a visit, not like this. As she narrowed her eyes at the lights that were on inside her phone dinged again.

Dinner’s getting cold. Get in here.

And as Celeste pondered just what that meant she saw the front door open and her friend’s silhouette in the doorway. Alice was there. She had surprised her with a trip, a feat in itself because she was horrible at keeping any type of secret from Celeste. Her friend had dropped everything, made the trek out to the middle of nowhere, to make sure that she wasn’t alone. Knowing that Celeste would struggle through it in silence and wasn’t about to let her do that.

Alice had been at her side in less than twelve hours a year ago after the accident. She had been the only person who actually knew how to take care of her and had taken charge when Celeste was catatonic on the couch. Had curled her up in the guest bedroom and slept with her in the tiny rickety bed so she wouldn’t be alone because Celeste hadn’t slept on her own in almost fifteen years. And after a solid year of misery she was still there, fighting off the ghosts and trying to help Celeste find joy and life again.  

[deanwritings]

The Guest House - Chapter 6

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 3,288

A/N: Almost missed this week's chapter because I've been obsessively reading Fourth Wing and Iron Flame. Took a lot of willpower to put the books down and get this finished 😅

You were absolutely shocked, flabbergasted, dismayed, aghast, and every other word in the thesaurus when Dean offered to be your hiking buddy. 

Never in a million years did you ever expect the man to offer you any favors, not alone fix your car, and definitely not take you hiking. 

After he left for work, a part of you still wanted to go. You weren’t one to wait around if you didn’t have to, but if you were being honest with yourself, you had been scared to go alone. The only times you had ever hiked alone was when you were a fearless teenager, and even then you had your 110 pound dog, Beau, by your side, so you never had to worry about someone bothering you. Plus, those were your home trails, you knew them even when you took a wrong turn. Mount Carmel was entirely new to you. Even though the hiking reviews said the trails were relatively easy, there was always a chance of missing a trail marker, especially being out of season. Hiking markers were typically re-sprayed in spring, so it had been almost a year of weathering the elements since the last time they’d likely have been updated. 

And of course, the big question ringing in your mind – could you trust Dean? The truth was, you didn’t know much about him. Every interaction up until that point had been contentious at best. Not to mention that gun he first greeted you with. Sure, you two had a nice morning together, but was that enough to trust him and let him lead you through the woods alone? 

So you decided to give Sydney a call.

“Absolutely not.” Her voice rings through the receiver. “Just cause he was nice to you once means nothing.” You sigh as you throw yourself onto the couch. 

“I know.” And you do. That’s why you were calling her for a second opinion. “But he actually seemed genuine. Surprisingly so.”

“Nope. No. No way.” She reinforces her position on it. “Please don’t make me have to do an interview on Dateline. I will not be nice. I will say ‘I told her not to go but she was dumb and didn’t listen.’ Twitter will have a field day with it.” You laugh quietly as you let your head fall against the back of the couch, staring up at the plank ceilings that match the floors. 

“Fair enough,” you conceded, knowing that what she’s saying is absolutely true. “But what if I told you he was really hot?” You raise your eyebrows even though she can’t see you. 

The other line is silent for a moment.

“How hot we talking? Like Tom Hiddleston hot or Chris Hemsworth hot?”

“Hemsworth, definitely.” You smile as you think about Dean’s defined features; a strong jaw covered in a few days worth of scruff and his oddly beautiful green eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever considered a man’s eyes beautiful until you met him. You also enjoyed the way his hair swooped over his forehead. It wasn’t long, per say, but you definitely could see yourself grabbing a handful of it if the time were right.

“Are we forgetting the vindictive ex-wife?” Sydney chimes in, breaking you from your daydreaming before it takes a shameful turn. “I mean, he had to do something to her to make her hate him that much.”

“I’m not trying to marry him, Syd.” You roll your eyes. “Yeah, he’s kinda an asshole, but he’s a hot asshole. And it’s not like I’m going to be around here much longer.” You only had about two weeks left on your rental, and now that Dean was starting to come around to you, the thought crossed your mind that maybe he could be that vacation fling you had been hoping to find. 

“Okay, well I gotta get back to work.” You can hear her heels click before background voices filter in. You glance over to the kitchen clock; 1:31. Her lunch break was ending. “Just make smart choices, please.” Her voice pleads just a bit. You know she trusts you, but you would be looking out for her if the roles were reversed. 

“Always do, Sydy. I’ll text you later.” 

As you hang up, you realize that you haven’t actually gotten lunch yet for yourself. You had some cold cuts in the fridge, but considering you were supposed to be out hiking right now, you were antsy to get out of the house. 

You decide it’s a good day to head back into town and grab some lunch, and who knows, maybe you’ll run into a certain mechanic. The idea has you smiling as you grab your coat and throw on your boots, not before freshening up with some quick makeup before you go. Just in case. 

Thankfully, your car starts with just one easy press of the ignition, and your lips turn upward as you think about Dean saving you this morning. 

A few minutes later, you’re parked downtown, this time getting a spot right in front of BILLIES. Your eyes scan the street, not seeing the tell-tale forest green truck of your neighbor. 

It had been wishful thinking, but you still need lunch so you head inside.

“Afternoon, hun.” Billie herself greets you, and you give her a wave as you take a seat at the counter. This was your fourth visit now, and each time Billie had always greeted you with a warm smile and treated you like a regular, even though she knew you were leaving soon. 

She drops a menu and a water in front of you.

“You know the deal.” She gives you a smirk before turning towards the kitchen. And you do. Once you are ready to order, just flag her down.

You’ve been making a point to order something new each time you visit, so today you were going with a chipotle turkey cheeseburger, curly fries, and your usual Diet Coke. 

Once your food is ready, Billie drops it in front of you, but you stop her before she can hurry away. Even with a near-empty diner, she always manages to find something to keep her busy.

“Hey, can I get your opinion on something?” She nods, her hair bouncing around her as she drops a hand to her hip.

“What’s up, hun?” 

“You know Dean pretty well, right?” Her chestnut eyes narrow at you. 

“Sure do,” Her tone is lighter than her gaze. “Known that boy since he was a tyke. Babysat him and his brother a few times.” 

Well that was interesting, you didn’t know Dean had a brother. Not that you would, but considering all your run-ins, you assumed he would have been around. Maybe he didn’t live here anymore. 

“He offered to take me hiking on Mount Carmel on Thursday. Obviously I barely know him, he’s safe to go with right? Like, I don’t have to worry about him killing me or anything?” Her head falls back with a deep laugh, and her hands clap together. It takes her a moment to collect herself as her chest heaves, and she wipes a tear away from her eye. You just watch her with wide eyes as she draws the attention of the few patrons enjoying a late lunch. 

“Oh, LORD, I have not laughed like that in a while.” She throws a hand onto her chest. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then?” You assume from her reaction. 

“Sweetie, that boy is harmless.” She assures you, a hint of laughter still in her tone. “A pain in the ass, maybe, but you don’t have anything to worry about with Dean.” 

“Well that I knew.” You pick up a fry and take a bite.

“How’d you manage to talk him into taking you for a hike anyhow?” Billie asks as she rests one hand on the counter and the other finding its way back to her hip.

“He offered,” you shrug, biting into another fry as her eyebrows shoot up. 

“He offered to take you hiking?” She parrots in disbelief and you nod. Her eyes look you up and down and you suddenly sit up straighter under her scrutiny. 

“What?” You now feel self-conscious. You don’t know what she’s looking at or for, but heat rises to your ears and cheeks as she looks you over. 

She just tsks and shakes her head, pushing off the counter. 

“Just surprised is all.” She gives a small shrug as someone behind you flags her down. “Enjoy your meal, hun.” 

And with that, she hurries into the dining room, leaving you confused and hungry as you pick up your burger and dig in.

Dean’s toweling off his hair, the bathroom steamed and warm from his shower, when his phone buzzes on the counter. 

He clicks his phone alive, 7:02 in big white numerals above the text notification bearing your name. 

He stands up a little straighter as he clicks open the text, his eyes quickly scanning your words.

If the offer still stands, I wouldn’t mind a hiking buddy on Thursday. 

He smiles down at the text. He obviously didn’t know you very well, but he fully anticipated you ignoring his warning and going hiking alone today anyways. 

But his shoulders drop as he realizes he’s now committed to a hike and he drops his head back. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles as he tossed his damp towel in the hamper and heads into the bedroom, thinking about his response as he grabs some sweats, a henley, and a thick pair of socks, because god damn, it was cold out. 

 Once he’s changed, he picks his phone back up.

Consider it done. He texts back as he heads downstairs to whip up some dinner. 

Dean didn’t have a lot of skills outside the auto shop, but one thing he was good at was cooking. He spent a lot of his childhood watching cooking shows with his mom as she tried to up her own ability, his early years being a lot of tv dinners and mac and cheese. By the time he was a teenager, she could pull together the most delicious pot roast and mashed potatoes you ever had. And Dean was her number one helper. 

“My little sous chef.” She would call him until he begged her to stop one day when he was twelve. 

The thought makes him smile, and he realizes he hasn’t called her in a while.

Once he gets out the ingredients he needs, he grabs his headphones and pops them into his ears.

“Hey Siri,” He unwraps the strip steak and slaps it down onto a cutting board. “Call mom.”

The phone rings as he heavily salts the beef.

“Dean!” His mother's excitement makes him wince as it nearly blows out his eardrums.

“Hi, mom,” he smiles, happy to be talking to her for the first time in well over a week. He tried to call her every few days, but as his divorce has been draining him mentally and financially, he’s been calling less. And at this moment, he feels really bad about it. 

“It’s been a while.” She says much softer. “How are things?” The genuineness in her voice immediately eases the stress that has burrowed in his shoulders ever since Lisa left. 

As he heats up and butters his cast iron skillet, he fills his mom in on happenings at the shop, Mary needing full updates on Benny, Adam, and the rest of the gang. How the divorce is going, and Dean fills her in about his guest. 

“Dean,” she sighs. He knows this divorce hurts her. She had loved Lisa like the daughter she never had, and was so excited to watch her son start his life with what she thought was a lovely woman. He still remembers her heartbreak when he told her that he caught Lisa cheating and that she had left him.

“Sweetheart, is this really worth dragging on?” He rolls his eyes as he bastes the steak. 

Here comes the mom lecture. 

“I really wish you could just move on from all this. I know she hurt you, but Dean, how long are you going to continue giving her power over your life?” His shoulders drop as he sighs. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to move on, but to be honest, he just didn’t know how. Everything went so wrong so fast, his head was spinning like a top, and that was before he found Lisa in bed with Gavin. 

“I really want you to be happy, Dean.” The break in her voice has him shaking his head. This was another reason he hasn’t been calling as often. He didn’t want his own mother to pity him. 

Here he was, 32 years old, in the middle of a divorce, with nothing but a house and bitterness, while his brother was thriving. 

At 28, Sam was proving to be a shining star at the law firm he started with when he graduated law school. And last month, he proposed to his college sweetheart, Jessica. His life was just beginning, while Dean’s was stuck in the mud. 

“I am happy, mom.” He lies. “And I’ll be a lot happier once this divorce is over and Lisa is out of my life for good.” He carefully flips his steak, continuing to baste so it doesn’t burn. He can hear his mother’s sigh in his ears. She always knew when he was lying.

“Are you coming up to visit anytime soon?” She changes the subject.

“Actually, I’m coming up this weekend. There’s a car auction Sunday and Rick wants me to come tune up a few of his cars before he puts them on the block.” 

“Oh good!” His mother’s excitement returns, and they carry on with their conversation. 

Fifteen minutes later, Dean carries his finished plate to the table; seared stripe steak and roasted green beans with some leftover potatoes he had from a few nights ago. 

He rubs his hands together before he cuts into the steak, humming at the perfectly medium rare center. 

After a few bites, he picks up his phone, and sees he has a missed text from you stamped 24 minutes ago, while he was on the phone with his mom. 

Not sure if you wake up early on your days off, but if you do, I was thinking a sunrise hike? But if not I’m happy to go anytime. 

Dean purses his lips as he takes another bite, this time mixing in some mashed potato. 

He Googles Thursday’s sunrise: 6:59am. The hiking trails were about 25 minutes away, and it takes about an hour to hike to the lookout. Doing the math backwards, they would have to leave here by 5:30am. Definitely a little early for his taste on his one day off this week, but he invited himself on your hike, so he was going to swallow down his own distaste for that early of a start and agree. 

Sounds good to me. Meet me in the driveway 5:30am. We can take my car. 

Dean’s about to put his phone down but the three text bubbles jump up on the screen, and only a few seconds later, your next text.

On second thought, how about a post-sunrise hike? 

Dean smiles and lets you know that works, and you agree to meet in the driveway at 7:30am instead. 

See you then. You reply, and Dean closes out the screen and returns to his dinner. 

He’s not sure why, but he feels almost excited for tomorrow. Which is odd considering how much he fucking hates hiking. And though you two have been civil, he still wouldn't say he likes you. He just doesn’t dislike you anymore, finally able to separate you from the scheme Lisa dropped you into.

But Dean doesn’t dwell on it, more than likely just looking forward to a change of scenery as he takes a big bite of steak and settles into his seat.

“I can’t believe you consider this fun,” Dean huffs behind you, watching every step he takes as you transverse the mountainside. The incline is not overly steep, and thankfully the path isn’t too rocky, but the real danger is the one Dean warned you about; the ice. Thankfully you haven’t fallen flat on your ass, but you’ve definitely slipped a few times, once which had you rolling out your ankle to make sure you hadn’t sprained it only fifteen minutes in. 

“No one forced you to come.” You remind him with an easy breath as you focus back on your own steps, your gloved hands resting easy on the lapels of your backpack. Not that you’re trying to taunt him while he seems to be struggling as he staggers behind you.

“You know, you could walk on a flat road.” Dean continues to complain a few minutes later, as the trees start to fall away, replaced by boulders and lingering snow patches. “I mean, really, what the hells the difference? There’s plenty of trees on the road by my place if that’s what you’re looking for.” He gripes as you turn over your shoulder, watching as he steps around an iced-over puddle.  

“Tell me Dean, are you always this grumpy, or do I just seem to bring out the worst in you?” You pause and fully look towards him, dropping your hands across your chest as he takes a few more cautious steps, closing the distance between you as he steps up on a rock, the added height making him tower over you.

You’ve been at this for almost an hour, and Dean has complained almost every chance he’s had. It was very clear that he did not enjoy hiking, and it was starting to sour your morning. This was supposed to be your get-into-nature, positive energy, meditative morning hike. You had no problem taking this hike alone, he was the one who invited himself. So it was time he started acting like the guest he was. 

“Must be you, sweetheart.” He grins widely down at you, his white teeth flashing, and you suck in a breath as your heart halts.

Holy shit, this man is beautiful. His hair is tucked into a gray knit hat, and his broad frame is hidden under a thick, camel hunting coat. But his eyes. Those green eyes are shining bright in the early morning sun, and they may be the most amazing eyes you’ve ever seen, on a man or woman. It’s almost unfair. 

Truly, what the hell is a man as good-looking as Dean doing hiding away in this small town? Especially with the city only two hours away. He could easily be a model or an actor if he wanted to. The world opens doors for beautiful people. 

“Lucky me,” you regain your composure and return a tight smile as you turn on your heel, but as you shift, your left foot slips out from under your boot and you start to fall forward, your hands shooting out to brace your fall just as two hands grip your hips, catching you. 

“Warned you about that ice.” You can hear the cheeky grin in his voice as he helps you straighten up, his fingers digging deliciously into your skin through your workout tights before he lets go.

You want to shoot back a sassy remark, but you bite your tongue.

“Thank you.” You offer instead, turning towards him carefully as to not lose your footing again. 

“Don’t mention it,” he smiles down at you as he pushes past, taking the lead for the first time since you started your hike, and you have no choice but to follow.

Keep Reading

NEXT TIME:

“This is weird, right?” You say to yourself once you’re back to your little cabin. Who the fuck goes on a trip with a man they barely know, to stay with his mother of all people. 

Aunt Rose would. Your inner voice rings out. Hell, she would jump at the opportunity for the chance at a fun weekend at a fancy car show. 

I mean, it did sound cool. You’ve never been to a car show before, not that you know much about them, but you do “ohhh” and “ahhh” whenever a nice car drives by. You can at least appreciate them. And what were you going to do this weekend? The loneliness was starting to grate at you. Turns out four weeks alone wasn’t as relaxing as you expected it to be. It was nice at first, but now it was getting boring. You’ve hiked, you’ve read, you’ve meditated, you’ve shopped. Though it sounds like the town is bustling with city tourists during the warmer months, there was not much going on while there’s snow on the ground. Really, the only thing you could think of was to head to Max’s. Maybe you could meet someone this time, and not get interrupted since Dean won’t be around. 

But you know that’s not what you want to do. 

Oh god, Sydney is going to murder me. 

You pick up your phone and open a text.

I’m in. 

Forever Tag List

@iprobablyshipit91  @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213 @kaydallas21 @nerdymuffinbonkcloud

[lalune9x]

SCTIR Translation - Chapter 473: Inside the Drawer

"A-are you some kind of management system for this place? More importantly, why do you look like that?!" "The default appearance is set to what Master likes most."

Chapter translation under the cut.

---

Chapter 473: Inside the Drawer

"Yoo…"

No, there was no way my younger brother would be here. But the figure that appeared beyond the mansion's gate looked exactly like Yoohyun. Even dressed just as he had been at yesterday's banquet.

"Hello, Master."

"W-What are you saying?!"

Looking like that! The voice was completely identical, too! The thing that looked like my little brother smiled faintly.

"I am Number 71."

"A-are you some kind of management system for this place? More importantly, why do you look like that?!"

"The default appearance is set to what Master likes most."

Of course, I liked my little brother—but, wait a minute.

'It's the current Yoohyun, huh?'

What I liked the most. Not how he was as a child or when he had been older. It made sense. My current little brother had changed a lot. Now he smiled more, sometimes acted a bit spoiled, and no longer seemed as anxious. Above all, he’d said he had grown to like himself.

Han Yoohyun was different from ordinary people. Even though I accepted and acknowledged that, I still couldn't help worrying whether it was truly okay. After all, the place where my brother lived and would have to continue living was human society.

But forcing him to live while suppressing his true self, pretending not to know and covering it up, would have been clearly wrong. Wouldn't it? As long as he wasn't hurting anyone, why should he have to conform? Above all, if you lived together, both sides should make compromises, not just one.

So, I definitely preferred the current Yoohyun. He'd likely only get better with time. Occasionally, he might take a few steps backwards or stray off course, but as long as he returned, that was fine. And that outfit suited him well, too.

Anyway…

"Change your appearance to something else. Like…."

Yerim was obviously out of the question, and Myungwoo or Noah-ssi would be weird too. Hyuna-ssi being that polite to me would also feel really awkward. Director Song was always respectful, but calling me 'Master' would be a bit much... Maybe that guy Hamin would work without it feeling burdensome.

"Can you turn into Sung Hyunje?"

After hearing him call me 'master' just yesterday, I wanted to try bossing around the Sesung Guildmaster for a bit.

Number 71 looked troubled at my suggestion. "With your current abilities, Master, changing settings is not possible."

"…What? You call me Master, but I can't even do that much?"

It was hard to speak harshly to something that looked like my little brother.

"It is because your understanding and control of this space are extremely low, Master."

"How low are we talking?"

"Less than 0.01%."

…And you call me Master. Even living in a monthly rental would give me more control than that. It was basically like living in someone else's house.

I cautiously stepped through the gate, glancing around. The fairly spacious garden was full of unfamiliar flowering trees. However, while there were plants, there were no signs of animals like birds, bees, or butterflies. Number 71 in front of me didn't seem to be a living being either.

"Then can you at least change how you address me? Just call me by my name."

Even 'Hyung' would be a bit much.

"Master's understanding of this space—"

"Yes, I get it. It's not possible."

Should I cover his face or something? Maybe put a mask on him?

"What exactly are you?" I asked.

"I am the management doll for the 71st Drawer."

"And you're not alive?"

"I am based on an artificial elemental, but it is difficult to consider me a living being."

An artificial elemental? Now what was that?

"Could there be anything dangerous in here? From an F-ranker’s perspective?"

"It is safe, as long as you don't touch anything first."

That Jellyfish did a good job managing this drawer. I felt a little guilty for doubting its safety. Yeah, looking back, Jellyfish wasn't so bad. Compared to that lizard brat, it was quite decent. The real problem was Chatterbox.

I wondered if about 10 minutes had passed by now. It should be fine if I was a little late. I didn't want to stay too long, so maybe about 30 minutes of looking around would be enough.

"Let me know when 30 minutes have passed since I came in. Can you do that?"

"Yes, that's possible."

"Ah, and time in here flows the same as it does outside, right?"

"Yes. To change the flow of time, Master's spatial control must exceed 80%."

So that would be possible too, if I got good enough at this. I remembered how the Newbie could manipulate time flow within the dungeon.

Walking across the yard with wet socks was unpleasant. Ugh, the squishy feeling was the worst. Number 71 quietly followed me, then went up the stairs ahead of me to open the mansion's front door. Without thinking, I almost said, "Thanks, Yoohyun," because it was so much like my brother. The mannerisms and speech were different, though.

Inside, opening the door on the right side of the long hallway revealed a spacious living room. The garden outside was clearly visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The floor gleamed like polished marble, and various orbs of light floated around the high ceiling in place of regular lighting.

"There don't seem to be any items here," I said.

"This is a place for rest. The sofas and chairs have stamina recovery functions, and the lights provide a calming effect. The food on the table will stay fresh and maintain its temperature for three days."

That was pretty nice. I almost sat down on the sofa but stopped since I was too wet. Even though the stamina recovery function sounded useful, it would be a waste to take it out of here.

"Is it true that I can only remove three items from this place?"

"Yes, that is how it is currently set up."

"And if I improve that spatial control thing?"

"If you become the complete master of the 71st Drawer, all restrictions will be lifted."

All restrictions gone! Did that mean I'd be able to take anything out? My heart raced at the thought, but…

"How do I become the complete master?"

"You must fully understand the space and be able to freely modify, dismantle, and create within it."

In other words, I'd need to reach the level of a Transcendent. How was I supposed to do that? Myungwoo said he could see the structure of mana within the Newbie's dungeon, but to me, it just looked like trees, the sky, and the ground. Maybe I should ask Myungwoo for help.

I left the living room and entered another room. The second room was a study filled with books. After confirming it was safe with Number 71, I pulled out a book and opened it.

"Hmm… must be good content,” I said. What language was this, anyway?

"This study has features that enhance focus. When reading at that desk, the contents will be easier to remember."

I should bring Yerim here! If I took this entire study out, students would line up for a chance to use it.

"There's a three-item limit on what I can take out, but is there any restriction on using the items here?"

"No. However, any items absorbed or consumed by the body count toward the three-item limit."

"…I drank some water earlier."

"The lake water is not considered an item."

So I could bring the kids here, then. But the Newbie said that without replenishing its mana, I could only use the drawer about 30 times. And that was per person. If I brought Yoohyun and Yerim, we'd only get about 10 uses.

What a waste. A real shame. I thought I'd just take the items and use this place as an emergency hideout thirty times, but this place was better than I expected!

"How can I replenish the mana of this space?"

"It can be replenished by the master. However, the connection is currently severed."

"…And to reconnect it, I need to increase that spatial control thing?"

"Yes. Basic mana replenishment requires at least 5% control. Each recharge also consumes the equivalent of ten SSS-rank mana stones."

That was a huge amount. Thankfully, I had the Mana Spring. Otherwise, I'd be sucked dry like a mummy without even filling up 1/100th of it.

This time, I walked down the hallway to the door at the very end. As it opened, a refreshing vista of bright blue water unfolded before me. The entire front wall, about three stories high, was completely transparent without any frame or seams. Beyond it, there was also a terrace built over the lake.

"It really feels like a resort."

"The 71st Drawer is designed as a place for rest. It was also recently remodeled according to the standards of Master's world," Number 71 answered.

I had suspected as much, but it really was a resting area. Had it been remodeled before being handed over to me? How considerate. No wonder the structure felt familiar. Considering the lower half of the King of the Mist Sea’s body, normal chairs wouldn't suit her. A concave design resembling a wine glass would have been more comfortable. And I guessed the interior would have been more tentacle-friendly, though I didn’t know what that would look like.

"That is why the rank of the stored items and the drawer itself are also relatively low," Number 71 added.

They did say it would be about SSS-rank. To me, it felt more like L-rank quality. It was easily worth trading for one of my L-rank skills… except I didn't have any worth trading. At first, I had grumbled about how my resistance skills were like pearls cast before swine, but they had proven incredibly useful. Not just curse and poison resistance, but fear resistance had been useful in many ways too. Not to mention my Caregiver skills. Well, except for Final Thanks…

‘That one, maybe I don't need.'

Honestly, I wanted to act like it didn't exist at all. To get revenge, though… that was a different story. I'd already used it once and gained a lot from it, but… I hoped there would never be another reason for me to use that skill again.

"…If the items here are meant for vacation, they probably won't be very useful."

They probably wouldn't be weapons or armor, but rather things with weird stats and passives. With forms like picnic baskets, beach robes, sunglasses, or floaties.

"Does the space get bigger if its rank increases?"

"Yes. The space expands, and the rank of the items that can be stored also increases. It also becomes harder to detect, track, or destroy."

"Wait, it can be found and destroyed?"

"If an SSS-rank entity has the ability to detect it, yes."

So it probably wouldn't be usable as a hideout against Transcendents. Too bad. Still, there weren't any SS-rank beings in our world. The only exceptions were the occasional SS-rank monsters. I wondered how the level of Myungwoo's smithy compared. Since the Newbie said this place was relatively unsophisticated compared to the smithy, the smithy was probably at least L-rank, maybe even Mythic.

If you compared them, the Golden Smithy was a specialized facility, while this place was more like a vacation home or storage space.

"What else is on the first floor?"

"There is a dining room, a café, and a bathroom."

"And the second floor?"

"A living room, three bedrooms, and three bathrooms."

"What about the third floor?"

"A swimming pool, a lounge, and entertainment facilities. There is also an attic and a basement."

The first to third floors sounded pretty standard. The attic probably wasn't special, so the real treasure would probably be in the basement.

"Take me to the basement."

I would have to figure out how to raise my spatial control to at least 5%, even if I had to learn from Myungwoo. This place was too good to only use a few times and be done with it. It was like a portable vacation home! Wouldn't it be great if I could make it so other people could use it too? It'd be perfect for the kids to rest in when they go on dungeon raids. Transcendents just whipped these things up like it was nothing; lucky them.

Ah, except for the Elder. The Mermaid Queen also didn't strike me as the researcher type like the Newbie or the Jellyfish. Same for the Deer and the Wolf. The Tree seemed a bit more inclined towards this kind of thing, though.

'The Newbie seems to be taking my side a lot lately. I wonder about the other Irreverents.'

The more people we had on our side, the better. Maybe next time I saw the Newbie, I should ask about the Mermaid Queen. She was the one we'd dealt with the most so far. She had even given Yerim a skill, and the Newbie referred to Yerim as 'little droplet', too.

We couldn't reach the basement via the stairs. More precisely, there were decorative stairs in the building, but they didn't seem to lead anywhere. Instead, there was a portal.

"As your spatial control increases, you will be able to move freely to any location," Number 71 said.

There it was again, that spatial control thing. We descended to the basement through the portal. Contrary to the typical underground lab vibe, the basement was brightly lit and welcoming. Inside the rows of display cases were cubical objects on display.

"Those are all items, right? Are they?"

Though they all looked identical on the outside, each cube had to contain a different item. I tried to suppress my rising excitement as I asked.

Number 71 nodded. He looked even cuter because he resembled Yoohyun! Ugh, why could I only take three items? But still, it was great.

"Is there a catalog or something? It could be dangerous to just open them blindly."

"They are safe in cube form."

"Really?"

I quickly opened the nearest display case. There was something like a name tag attached to the shelf where the cube was placed, but I couldn't read it. As soon as I picked up a cube, information about the item inside flowed into my mind.

'A-rank, Seven-Colored Turtle Shell.'

A crafting material item. Were there a lot of materials here? Maybe I could bring Myungwoo to practice with them. As long as we didn't take out the finished products, it should be fine. I picked up the cube next to it. S-rank Phillol Tree Fruit. Was this display case all crafting materials? I opened a display case on the other side and checked the cube inside.

"SS-rank shoes!"

Equipment! It didn't give detailed info on the effects, though. Maybe I'd need to take it out and wear it to find out. I put it down for now and grabbed the next one.

"This one's SS-rank too! But… a spoon?"

What was this? It couldn't be a weapon, right? Maybe food tasted better when you ate it with this? There was a mix of gear and various strange items. It really seemed like an unimportant storage space filled with random stuff. I even found a bag. The one I'd bought in Sollemnis had been pretty useful.

I moved on to check another display case.

"It's a skill!"

The shelf was filled with skill cubes ranging from A-rank to SS-rank. Ah, what a waste! Skills! And this shelf—stats? They increased your base stats? Was this even allowed? Probably because they were permanent, even a single-digit increase was S-rank, but still!

"Why only three?! Jellyfish! King of the Mist Sea! This is too unfair!"

It was like staring at a cake I couldn't eat! I stomped my feet in frustration. At the same time, a sudden sense of urgency hit me. If not just the King of the Mist Sea, but other Transcendents could create spaces like this...

'…If Chatterbox used items like this to help Awakened grow stronger.'

It could make them catch up to our level in no time. Of course, there had to be some limits, but it seemed dangerous to get complacent.

But seriously, how was I supposed to choose from all this? There was so much here.

"Do you have any recommendations? Or maybe I should bring the kids along... By the way, has it not been 30 minutes yet?"

I had been rummaging around absentmindedly for what felt like ages, but Number 71 had remained silent. When I glanced back at him, he shook his head.

"There are still 27 minutes and 45 seconds remaining."

"…What? Hold on a second!"

There was no way only 2 minutes and 15 seconds had passed! Just falling into the water and crawling out must have taken nearly 10 minutes!

"Didn't you say the time flow here is the same as outside? Has it really been only 2 minutes?"

"It has been exactly 2 minutes and 16 seconds."

"…Didn't at least 10 seconds pass while we were talking? Has it really only been 2 minutes and 16 seconds? I mean in the world I came from!"

Number 71 was silent for a moment before answering.

"2 minutes and 16 seconds is in the King of the Mist Sea's time units. In your world's time units, 1 hour, 27 minutes, and 19 seconds have passed."

So it had been quite a while after all! The time units of the King of the Mist Sea's home world were different from ours. Still, it had only been about an hour and a half, so it should be fine. Reluctantly, I put the cube down and hurried outside.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.192 Welcome home

I have zero idea what went down at home while I dealt with the rental property, but Desiree was not herself as we made our way to Gilbert Gardens. I'd never seen her so unhappy before. Sometimes, I poke around the parenting forums to see what others are going through and how they handle it. There are countless stories about toddler tantrums. As I told Dub the other day, Desi has her moments. But it wasn't until that afternoon I realized she'd never had a true meltdown before. At least not until now. She screamed the entire way to the house. And when I carried her inside, she actually fought me. Yes, Desi, my sweet potato kicked and slapped me and pulled my hair. Sophia said nothing and ignored the whole thing, so I suppose whatever this was about started with her, and she was glad to escape the child's wrath. One thing I learned after reading all those accounts was that these tantrums don't last long, and ignoring is actually the best solution. If you try to fix it by scolding them or even bargaining with them, you could make it worse, so I bit my tongue and just took it. Good thing she wasn't at a good vantage point to do any real damage.

I did, however, set some ground rules when I put her down. Regardless of what the forums say to do, I am the one who sets the tone for this family, and in this family, we don't do emotional outbursts like that. I'm very serious about this being a new chapter of our lives, and I want it to begin on a good note. So, I told her she can holler all she wants, but she's gonna have to stay outside and do it because she's not bringing all that noise into our new house. She continued screaming and stamping her little foot but calmed down pretty quickly, since she really wanted to go inside. I sat her down in the living room with some building blocks while Sophia and I hung our pictures. Once everything was in order, we chilled in the living room for the first and probably only time and enjoyed the fruit of our labor.

Rosie was in one of her clingy moods and joined us, so I played with her for a moment.

"You know what?" I said to her. "I know exactly what you need. Wait here."

I went upstairs and changed into my workout gear.

"I'm gonna introduce you to Gilbert Gardens! You're gonna love it."

As soon as she saw the leash, she knew it was game on and began barking and jumping around. We headed out. I was so excited to share my favorite place with her, I kinda forgot how long the trails around the lake and the Arboretum are. Rosie had a great time, but my knees were screaming by the time we go home. I hadn't jogged a long distance in a while, but that pain was different from being out of shape. I'm definitely getting old.

We all stayed close for the rest of the afternoon, even Rosie. I guess I finally wore her out, heh. That evening, the first of our new neighbors came to welcome us. The Whitney family live in the first house on our street across from the splash park. Neil, however, has actually lived in the neighborhood for a long time. Judging from his son's age, he and I may have moved to San Sequoia around the same time. It's kinda funny that he and I could have met earlier but never ran into each other. He bought that house for his family. He and his ex-fiancee had Karson, their son, when they were just dating. Neil was pretty keen on getting married and raising him together, so he proposed. She accepted, but was very focused on her career and never prioritized planning the wedding. Neil bought the house, thinking they would all live there together one day only for her to call off the engagement. They shared custody for a while until Karson decided to live with Neil full time. And later, and Neil met and married Kaila. It's so funny to me how sims tell me their entire life's story after only knowing me for three seconds. Unlike Chi Chi, Neil doesn't talk a lot. He's just very expressive when he does. As a fellow expressive man, it was great to be on the receiving end.

Karson didn't say much, but he was giving big spoiled brat vibes. Kaila was very extra. The Whitney family was definitely an interesting bunch. When they left, I put Desi to bed. Then Sophia and I christened a few rooms, hee hee.

[hermannsthumb]

9 / 13 / 27 for the prompt fills? 😮

9. Stargazing + 13. Family Reunion + 27. Power Outage

from summer prompts meme here

looking back at some old unfilled askbox prompts and went and took some generous liberties with this one......

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

It’s been kind of weird not having shit to do. That’s not technically true, because Newt and Hermann have plenty of shit they could do, but none of it is particularly time-sensitive or, like, interesting—a lot of paperwork, sleepovers at Shatterdome medical to get prodded and poked at, and mandatory meetings with PPDC higher-ups. No glamorous magazine spreads just yet. Newt’s holding out hope for those, though. Specifically they haven’t had shit to do in the lab, other than packing up their (newly defunct?) research in moving boxes, final destination still currently TBD. No magazine spreads, but plenty of universities begging and outright bribing them to set up shop on their campuses. Newt’s still not totally sold on returning to academia yet, but he's been enjoying feeling like homecoming king.

Basically they can afford to take a few days off. To Newt’s surprise it was Hermann who brought up the topic of vacation in the first place (would you be inclined to join me in Germany for a week?), and though it’s unfortunately not the luxury spa resort he had in mind (and that he would’ve found an excuse to charge all the expenses of to his PPDC-issued travel card), Newt’s game. He's game for anything that gets Hermann to unwind a little. He was less game when Hermann revealed the reason—a reunion dinner with his family (three terrifying siblings and two terrifying parents) at Hermann’s childhood home in the countryside, something which Newt can’t imagine going well for anyone involved.

Still, it’ll be fun to see where Hermann grew up, and they’ll have a whole bonus six days over there to do anything else they want. Hermann also seemed mildly terrified at the thought of going alone, and Newt definitely owes him one after the whole drifting with a kaiju thing. Possibly those aren’t comparable sacrifices. Newt’s basically a saint here.

They rent a car to drive from their hotel to Hermann’s house themselves instead of calling a cab like Hermann wants to do. A rental car gives them more freedom, Newt argues, and Hermann reluctantly accepts, too grumpy from the flight over to put up an argument of his own in return—they can take a longer route and see more of the country, make a fun little k-science road trip out of it.

The idea seemed more fun at the time. It's summer! People take road trips in the summer! Newt and Hermann have spent five long years crammed into a damp, chilly basement together, and they earned some open roads and open skies. Take in the natural beauty of the world, still standing as it was against all odds. Or something.

"Are we here already?"

"No," Hermann says. "I don't know why we're—did you fall asleep? You're meant to be navigating."

"Jet lag, man," Newt says, and yawns into his elbow. "I'm stupid sleepy. You sure we're not here?"

"Does it look if we—? Oh, I don't believe it," Hermann snarls as the car wheezes to a halt. "Now?"

Newt started getting the impression the second they left their hotel that Hermann doesn’t realllly want to go. And why would he? By all accounts his family dynamic kind of sucks and they most likely only invited Hermann as some weird hand-wavey apology for all those years of—uh, well, kind of sucking. We’re really sorry about the whole wall thing, Hermann, but now that you’re all famous and have an incredibly hot boyfriend, won’t you please show your face around us again?

Newt’s flattering himself here. He wasn’t actually invited. He has a distinct feeling he was the opposite of invited. When he asked Hermann about it (you sure it’s cool if I come?) Hermann just scowled and said something to the effect of they should expect that I would bring you, it’s only natural given that we are— and then pretended to cough a bunch. Newt politely handed him a glass of water and didn’t press him further. They are something! They’re k-science, Newt and Hermann. Good enough for Newt.

He loves a party. He’s not sure he’ll love a Gottlieb party, but he’ll make it work, even if Hermann wouldn’t let him bring his guitar or buy fun booze or dress in anything but his most formal pair of slacks. My family isn’t that lively, Hermann said. He bought Newt three depressingly boring non-skinny ties to choose from and spent the week leading up to their flight subtly hinting to Newt that he really ought to get a haircut. Hermann knows a fellow at the Shatterdome, even, who will do it for pennies. Make him look nice and presentable. If that’s who does your hair, man, I really doubt that, Newt said, and then Hermann threw several pieces of chalk at him and definitely-not-deliberately knocked Newt’s iced coffee over onto his pants on his way out of the lab.

It gets Newt so hot and bothered when Hermann resorts to petty stuff like that. He got the haircut.

“You were supposed to fill the tank!” Hermann shouts, smacking his hand against the dashboard like it’s going to help. His palm is conveniently covering the fuel gauge, and Newt nudges it away until they can both plainly see they have almost three-fourths of a tank to go.

“I did, you dick,” he says, and Hermann shuts his mouth real fast. “The engine’s probably busted or the battery’s dead or something. Dude, they totally gave us a crap car just because we wouldn’t take the cybertruck.”

“Rubbish,” Hermann says under his breath. He turns the key in the ignition twice, and the engine makes a few pathetic stuttering noises. The car doesn’t budge.

Newt shakes his head. “No good. Cybertruck revenge. Switch it off, I'm gonna take a look under the hood.”

“Oh, and I suppose one of your doctorates is in mechanics, then?”

Newt ignores him and gets out of the car. Mildly annoyed as he is at Hermann, he’s still careful to roll up the sleeves of the button-down Hermann picked out for him and twist his body as far away as possible from the car as he pops the hood and squints inside. Hermann will be very sad if he gets his clothes dirty.

Truthfully, not that he's going to admit it to Hermann, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. His dad tried to teach him once years back, but Newt lost interest once they took the engine apart and he realized it was much more fun to try to rebuild it into something else entirely, like a robot or something. Not that he succeeded there either.

“It’s definitely not working,” he decides.

The other car door slams, and he hears Hermann shuffle off to the side with a loud, disgruntled sigh. Newt shuts the hood and taps at his cell phone fruitlessly. No reception out here on his shitty roaming data, and even if he did have any he’s not sure where they’d find, like, an actually certified mechanic willing to drive all the way out to the middle of nowhere to tow them to Hermann’s parents’ in time for dinner. Maybe in time for lunch tomorrow, but that’s still kinda pushing it. He doesn’t bother asking to try Hermann’s—he left it back at the hotel, allegedly by accident, but Newt has a lurking suspicion that it was subconsciously in the hopes of something like this happening. Oops, sorry, no way to get in touch with anyone, looks like we won’t be able to make it tonight after all.

If they pick a direction and start walking now they might be able to get some cell service or at least find a hotel nearish-by with a phone they could borrow. Maybe some quaint and eye-wateringly expensive Airbnbs. It seems like the kind of place they would have those. On the other hand, wandering around in the German wilderness (relative wilderness, anyway) at dusk is maybe a bad idea. Cliché horror movie shit.

He catches a whiff of stale smoke and whirls around to stare incredulously at Hermann. “Where the hell were you hiding those?” he says.

Hermann, scowling around a cigarette, shrugs one shoulder. “Sock,” he says. “Only three. You know how they are, my family—I felt I may need to invent an excuse to duck outside. Oh, fine.”

He takes one final drag of the cigarette before flicking it to the ground and grinding at it with the end of his cane until it’s nothing but a flattened smear of paper and tobacco ash in the dirt. He thumps his cane at it twice. Then he smacks his cane against the front tire of the car with a metallic thud. Newt perks up in alarm. “Cool it, we didn’t get the insurance.”

“Bloody piece of trash,” Hermann says.

He slumps against the side of the car, smearing grime and probably some smashed bugs all over his clean shirt, and rubs a hand down his face. Newt hesitates a few seconds to make sure he’s not about to start swinging again before sidling up next to him cautiously. He wonders if he should try to give Hermann a hug or an affectionate pat on the shoulder. It’s not something they usually do, affection in general, but Hermann might appreciate the gesture. “It’s just dinner,” Newt finally says. “I didn’t even think you wanted to go.”

“I don’t,” Hermann says.

“Okay, then this is a good thing, right?" Newt says. "We didn’t even have to make up an excuse. This is legit, man, and I mean, it’s not like I was dying to spend some quality time with the in-laws.” Can Newt say that? In-laws? He and Hermann aren’t married or anything, but he’s not sure what else he’d call Hermann’s family that doesn’t sound like he’s deliberately dancing around saying in-laws. “Basically, we’re in the clear.”

Hermann says nothing.

“Wait.” Newt frowns. “Did you think I wanted to go?” The idea hasn’t occurred to him until now (because, like, why would it?), but with Hermann being all weird like this…

“Of course not,” Hermann says. There’s an unspoken but there. Hermann hesitates. Newt waits. The sun is almost finished setting, and under different circumstances he thinks it would actually be a pretty nice night out, like the ones they spent back on the Shatterdome roof bitching at each other and sharing shitty takeout dinner and squinting up at the sky to try to see stars through the light pollution of the city. He wonders if pointing that out to Hermann would piss him off more.

Hermann finally sighs. “I suppose I wanted to introduce you to everyone, is all.”

Newt knows Hermann’s family. Newt actually knows Hermann’s family famously, or maybe he means infamously, and maybe he also means that they know him, thanks to the unfortunate combination of his less-than-stellar professional reputation, his widely-ridiculed televised appearances shortly after the first kaiju made landfall where he pushed the whole extraterrestrial origin angle, and the extremely dramatic, uh, everything he’s had going on with Hermann for well over a decade now. Also, Newt spilled wine on Hermann’s dad at fundraiser once, and the resulting shouting match got them both (plus a not-very-innocent-bystander Hermann) thrown out. The verdict is still out on whether Newt did it intentionally or not. “I think they know me pretty well, dude,” he says.

“Introduce you,” Hermann continues, forcing the words out through gritted teeth, “as my…partner.”

They know we worked together, Newt almost says, and then he thinks ohhh. “Ohhh,” he says.

“Not that I desire their approval for our relationship,” Hermann adds quickly, “or have desired, ever. In fact I rather hope they don’t approve. It’s just that I…” He lifts a hand towards Newt’s arm, stops, grazes his fingers against Newt’s sleeve, and drops away. His teeth are clenched so tightly Newt wonders if he’s going to induce a migraine. “I’m—content with you. With how things are. I, well…” He makes another weird face, and slumps his shoulders forward.

“Content,” Newt says. “Aw, Hermann, that’s really romantic.” The worst part is that he means it. This is the most emotional candidness he’s gotten from Hermann in a very long time of knowing him, and he’s over the moon about it. “I’m cool with how things are, too. I like being your—” He can’t bring himself to say partner. Too academic of them, given their professions. It doesn’t feel gay enough. “—uh, guy. That’s stupid. Your significant guy. That’s stupider.”

Hermann’s mouth finally twists up into a little smile, which was exactly what Newt was going for. He nudges Hermann with his elbow and grins. “Anyway, what I’m saying is you have pleeeenty of time to show me off.”

“Your arrogance is one of your more attractive traits,” Hermann says.

It’s dark enough now that Newt can see the pinprick lights of stars in the sky above them, clear and unobscured by clouds or city lights. Newt thinks he would go nuts if he had to live this far out in the middle-of-fucking-nowhere 24/7, and maybe some of Hermann’s sexier issues make sense now that Newt’s seen his hometown, but a visit is somewhat worth it for this. “Hey, look,” Newt says, pointing and nudging Hermann with his elbow again until Hermann finally rolls his eyes and looks up. “Let’s worry about the phone or flashing S-O-S with our headlights or whatever later, we can actually see stars out here. You wanna give me an official Dr. Gottlieb astronomy 101 course? You know how hot it gets me.”

Hermann gives him another little smile, and Newt takes that as an invitation to throw his arm around Hermann's shoulders and yank him close. “I suppose,” Hermann says.

[gender-trash]

THE VANCOUVER TRIP BOOK HAUL POST (in approximate order of acquisition)

from elliott bay book company in seattle:

google reviews lied to me there weren't any used books here. still, this bookstore was open fairly late and for this we must credit them. for some reason there's a thin line between "queer friendly bookstore" and "unsalvageably astrology-pilled woo dispensary" and elliott bay book co is kiiiinda straddling it. on the other hand they stocked swindles 2 AND the hands of the emperor so clearly SOMEONE working there has taste.

massy books:

the problem with becoming bookbindingpilled is i sometimes find myself picking books up from used bookstores purely because the binding is really nice, which is how i wound up with that book in the center of the top row. in my defense it's a folio society edition for cheap how was i meant to resist??

cross & crows:

the proprietress of this bookstore was really nice & chatted with me fairly extensively about the vorkosigan saga books :) for some reason i am under a wizard's curse to own extremely mangled mass market paperback editions of same; e.g. my copy of barrayar has had about a half inch eaten away from the fore edge on both front and back covers by some sort of bug. true to form, this copy of ethan of athos has a hole burned in the front cover.

white dwarf:

i walked in here hoping to buy some dumbfuck vintage pulp scifi with extremely inaccurate robotics content and i was NOT disappointed.

pulpfiction books:

tor books is periodically like "hey what if we do ANOTHER collection of chinese science fiction and fantasy short stories in translation" and every fucking time i open my mouth like a baby bird. product/market fit babey

macleod's:

google reviews described this as a cave of used books and they were NOT WRONG. this store was barely navigable with all the stacks of books on the floor and had a deranged bordering on nonexistent organizational scheme. lots of rare books with awesome binding. grading on sheer Used Bookstore Ambiance this was by far my favorite. i think that book on dutch golden age paintings weighs like ten pounds by itself.

the paper hound:

i didnt take any pictures of the shelf labels bc i was definitely flagging at this point but they were Deeply idiosyncratic <3 cute little store with quite a lot (especially for its size) of weird obscure shit pertinent to my interests.

(at this point i got on a bus, missed my stop bc i had no cell service and no way to check directions, got on a different bus, took the subway back to where i'd parked the rental car, took every possible wrong turn until i stumbled upon the hotel again, dropped off my books, and took the car to...)

carson books & records:

the checkout clerk commented on my eclectic taste and it was almost 10pm and i'd walked like eight miles while hauling around a suitcase increasingly full of books so i just said 'yeah'.

and now we play the fun game of "which of these are for fic research, which ones are for various hyperfixations, which ones are 'sequels' to nonfiction i really enjoyed, which ones i just thought Looked Interesting, and which ones are things i've seen recommended and hadn't managed to acquire yet"

[see-the-fandom-imagines]

What’s in it for me?

Chapter 2/?

Chapter 1 Masterlist

Pairing: Kyouya Ootori x Reader

Author: see-the-fandom-imagines

Warnings: None at all.

Word Count: 2629

A/N: As mentioned before I take inspiration from anime and live-action, so I hope it isn't too confusing! :)

And yes, this is incredibly slow-burn, but hopefully worth it.Also I had to put this episode into two chapters, otherwise they'd have been too long. I know it's starting slow, but I got a few things planned for the next chapters, so stay tuned.

It had been a few weeks now since you had started helping out in the host club and on most days everything went down smoothly. You went to work twice a week and joined Haruhi in Music Room 3 on all other days. After a while everybody got used to you, the girls would ask you less questions about Haruhi you had to dodge and you had talked a little more with each one of the hosts. You didn’t mind coming in so often to be honest, mostly because it meant you could hang out more with Haruhi, but you had to admit, as crazy as the other hosts were, you soon realized that they were some of the nicest people you ever met. Well, some were nicer than others, but still. You had rarely felt that accepted anywhere this quickly.

“They’re back to their nonsense…”, Haruhi stated and you chuckled, carrying a tray full of green tea, when suddenly a bunch of girls surrounded her. “Haruhi-kun, you look so great in that kimono!” “Yes, almost like a girl.” You smiled at her. She really did look beautiful. But as always when the topic got even somewhat close to Haruhi being a girl a familiar voice interrupted. “Haruhi, you've booked another appointment. It seems you've had a pretty steady flow of new customers lately. Keep up the good work.” Kyouya scribbled something onto a scroll while speaking. You wondered if he was actually writing or if that was just another useless prop. "I'm not going to charge you interest on your debt like I normally would, so keep this up and you should be able to pay it off. Although the rental fee on that kimono you're wearing is nothing to sneeze at.” He smiled sweetly, and all the girls seemed captivated by it. “Kyouya-sama”, one girl spoke up and you rolled your eyes. “You’re just too much in that kimono!” He took that compliment gracefully as you sighed and walked past, just trying to get out of the situation. “Oh, but why didn’t you get one, (y/n)-chan?” Surprised you looked up. A girl with dark brown hair had appeared in front of you, looking up at you with big eyes. "I bet you would look really cute in one, too." Did she blush? "Oh, well, I-" “Because she is not an official member”, Kyouya’s voice rang out without missing a beat and you simply chuckled dryly, looking down at your usual school uniform. “Ah, that’s true”, another girl noted, absolutely dazzled the second the older guy spoke up. “Let’s not talk about the rental fee…”, you murmured a tad too loud, so that Kyouya would definitely hear you, but the girls just kept on blabbering something about picture books. Somehow it didn’t even surprise you anymore that Kyouya sold secret photos of all of the hosts. You kept on listening, while putting down a cup of tea infront of another girl. But maybe you could use that to your advantage.

“Hey, Kaoru”, you yelled, waving the twin in your direction. “Just Kaoru?”, Hikaru spoke up and followed suit, taking one of the tea cups from your tray. You had known he'd follow in a flirty mood if you just mentioned his brother. Kaoru didn't react this strongly. Carefully you took out your mobile phone from your pocket with your free hand. “What is it, (y/n)”, Kaoru said, smiling at you, bending over so he could look into your eyes, but your gaze was fixed on your phone. You held out the tray for him, so he'd take the other tea cup, before placing the now empty tray on a random couch. “I just wanted to bring you some tea”, you said, smiling at him. He didn’t quite seem to believe you and his gaze fell on the phone in your hand. “Do you want my number?” You smiled. That wasn’t quite what you had in mind, but, “yes, if it’s alright with you?” Hikaru appeared on his brother’s side. “How unfair, what about me?” “I want your number, too, of course. I thought now that we are friends, we should be able to contact each other, no?”

Minutes later you sat down in front of Kyouya, sighing, playing with your phone. He didn’t even look up. “Is it time for your break, yet?”, he asked, but you chose to ignore that question. You lowered your phone, before bending over the table a little, trying to make eye contact. “Instead of making me carry stuff, let me help you with that”, you said, pointing at his scroll and the tablet that was hidden underneath a cloth. Only now did he look up and raised an eyebrow. “What? I might as well help out in a way that’s a little more useful, no?” Kyouya still didn’t seem convinced. You sighed. “You need photos to sell, but only got random blurry pics, correct?” “Yes”, he said. “You think you can sell them?” “Not quite”, you said. “But you need photos, no?” Kyouya finally put down his scroll. You had successfully caught his interest. “So you’re saying you can deliver pictures of all hosts that are good enough to sell?” “Better”, you smirked and lifted your phone.

Kyouya looked at the picture you had just taken of him, entirely without him noticing. It wasn’t the most professional picture ever, but it was also not blurry and it looked weirdly natural. “It looks like we’re on a date”, you exclaimed happily, but hushed your voice as you noticed some girls reacting to what you had just said. Kyouya seemed irritated at first but then began to understand. “Scroll through”, you told him, and he did. “Pictures of the twins”, you explained unnecessarily. “Look me in the eye and tell me those don’t look like the pics a girlfriend would take.” Kyouya smiled, before looking back up at you. That was smart. And no one had even noticed, which would make the pictures even easier to sell, since none of the other hosts would complain too much. You were really quite something. Maybe he had underestimated you, not that he would ever admit to that. You saw the sparkle in his eyes and grinned confidently. For a moment the both of you were just looking at each other, trying to read each others expressions or even minds, if possible, when suddenly you were interrupted by Tamaki shouting out random things again a little louder than he should have. Kyouya broke the eye contact and sighed. He got up, trying to see what that was about, but not without giving you a quick nod to signal you, that your talk wasn’t over yet.

"Damn it", you cursed, but got up as well, following Kyouya towards the commotion. The twins and Tamaki were greeting a girl that had partially hidden behind the door. She seemed shy. A new customer? You instantly felt a little bad for her, having not only the twins, but also Tamaki approach you, could be too much for most people. Especially since Tamaki obviously had activated his princely charm. “Please, you don't have to be afraid, my Princess. I welcome you to the Ouran Host Club.” But the new girl didn’t hesitate. Before he could even finish talking she pushed him away, screaming loudly. “NO! Don't touch me! You're phony!” Tamaki stumbled back, holding his face in his dramatic fashion. “Wh-What do you mean, phony?”, he asked but she didn’t let him down easily. You had definitely underestimated her. That girl was everything but shy. “Just what I said, you're phony! I find it hard to believe that someone like you is the Prince character of this Host Club! You shouldn't go spreading your love around so easily like that, you stupid!" Wow, she really kept going. "You must be a dimwitted narcissist! You're incompetent! You're a commoner! You're disgusting!" You waited a second to see if she was done, but had watched in awe as she kept insulting the self-proclaimed king of the club. Tamaki fell down, the other hosts watching him, concerned. Ouch. That hurt. Even Kyouya stepped closer, but only took a brief look at Tamaki, before he turned around to the girl. Realisation hit his features. “Could you be…” Surprised you watched his expression change, before you heard the girl scream again: “Kyouya-sama!” She ran towards him, pushing you out of the way and making you stumble backwards. Kyouya saw you fall, but he couldn’t react fast enough, for the strange girl had wrapped her arms around his waist. Thankfully, the next thing you felt wasn't the hard floor, but a pair of arms holding you, right before you would have collided with the floor. “Thank you, Senpai", you smiled up at Mori, who carefully helped you back to your feet. Your gaze shifted back to Kyouya who had instinctively lifted his hands, trying very hard not to touch the strange girl. Surprised you looked from him down to her, and back up to him. His gaze met yours and he looked like he wanted to say something, but she interrupted. “Oh, how I've longed to meet you! My one and only Prince Charming.” For the first time since you had started in this host club, you were entirely out of words.

----

“Fiancee?”, the twins yelled in unison. “Kyouya’s?” “Yes”, she confirmed. You kept staring at Kyouya, who had remained silent the entire time. “Kyoyas fiancée”, you repeated, the word left a bitter taste in your mouth. "Did you know about this?", you asked Haruhi, who sat next to you, looking at least as confused as you were. "I had no idea", she whispered back, before the new girl continued to speak. “I am Renge Hoshakuji”, she introduced herself, but you still only stared at Kyouya. Was he really engaged? Maybe all those dramas were right and rich young kids did get engaged by their parents. Or did they choose to get married? No, that couldn’t be, the way he had lifted his arms as she hugged him really didn’t seem like they were deeply in love with each other. If that was even an emotion Kyouya could feel. “Ours is a story of love at first sight! I couldn't resist the way you were adoring those flowers in the backyard when you thought no one else was looking. And how sweet it was when you reached out to that poor little injured kitten.” “Is she serious”, the twins asked. “Could it be that you got the wrong person?”, Haruhi added. You still looked at Kyouya who finally realized your penetrating gaze and looked at you, face unreadable. “No way! I can recognize my love any where! He's a gentleman who's kind to everyone but doesn't ask for anything in return! He likes solitude but in fact sometimes he can get lonely!” The twins started yelling in the background, loudly expressing the confusion you all felt. That really did not sound in the slightest like Kyouya. Did he lead a secret life none of you knew about? You thought for a second, before you decided to speak up, also to hopefully calm down the twins a little. “If you’re engaged, why have you never met?”, you asked, and it worked. Everything went silent and the hosts looked surprised. “What?”, you asked. “Isn’t that obvious? She obviously needed a while to even recognize him and that description… No offense, but that’s not Kyouya.” “None taken”, he said, seeming almost pleased that his reputation hadn't suffered too much from her words. “She is right”, Hikaru started. “But it is quite common to get engaged without meeting the partner.” Your mouth formed a small 'o' and you looked at Kyouya, furling your brows. He noted your expression and couldn’t help but wonder what you were thinking. Were you … worried? Renge didn't even give anyone else the chance to react, though, because she almost immediately resumed speaking as if she hadn't listened to a single word either of you were saying. “He looks like the star of the popular dating sim Uki Doki Memorial! You're my real life Ichijo Miyabi!” She pointed at Kyouya, and suddenly the coin dropped. "Uki ..." "... Doki ...” “Memorial?” “Otaku!”, yelled Tamaki and the others followed suit. “I get it now”, Kyoya spoke up, “you're in love with that character. You're projecting that love onto me, and somehow deluded yourself into thinking that we're engaged. I assume this Miyabi character probably wears glasses as well.” “Ah my real Prince Charming! Ichijo Miyabi! I can't wait to get married! And we're gonna have the prettiest babies ever!” You felt the sweat drop from your forehead. Now she was already talking about babies. “So she made iit up, you’re not really her fiancé, right?”, Tamaki stated and Kyoya shook his head. “Well no, I don't remember ever asking for her hand in marriage." He thought for a while. "Besides, this is the first time I've ever met the woman.” Everybody stopped dead in their tracks, glaring at Kyouya angrily. Including you. “You could have mentioned you weren’t engaged ages ago”, you yelled at him, mad that he had made you worried in the first place. You sighed angrily and looked away. “I was worried”, you whispered, but Renge interrupted you again and this time you let her push you out of the way. You trained your eyes on the ground, not really knowing why all of this bothered you so much in the first place. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “He really could have said so sooner”, Kaoru said, squeezing your shoulder slightly while rolling his eyes and you smiled up at him. He must have heard you. "Thanks", you whispered, and Kaoru blushed a little, but kept his hand where it was. "Really, the last person you should ever worry about is Kyouya", he continued, making you chuckle. He grinned at you, before his brother caught his attention again. For a moment you thought about just leaving, but Renge was already back in action. Kyoya had gotten up, too, seemingly to get his notebook, but something told you he just wanted to bring some distance between him and her without seeming rude. He stopped next to you as Renge finished her monologue. “I've made up my mind! From now on, I'm gonna be the manager of this host club!” Everybody sighed. “That was an option?”, you whispered. Kyouya shrugged. “You didn’t ask for that position.” You shot him another unbelieving glance, before you got up, now feeling the need to bring a little distance between him and yourself. A bit overwhelmed, you decided to step next to Haruhi. Maybe she could help you feel a little more sane around here. “Is it always like this?” She sighed, watching the scene unfold infront of her. “Mostly, yeah.”

Tamaki joined your corner and stepped inbetween Haruhi and Kyouya. He obviously was just as taken aback by the sudden attack of the lady manager. “Uhm, listen, Kyouya…”, he started, but got interrupted almost immediately. “Miss Houshakuji is the only daughter of a very important Ootori family client", Kyouya explained with a smile. "So please be polite and try not to offend her alright?” You scoffed which earned you a reprimanding glance from the host club's director. But you didn't care and instead just looked away and decided to take care of your tea again. You really didn’t feel like acting like a clown for some random girl popping in and pushing herself on everybody like that. You picked up your tray and some empty tea cups. She had just waltzed in here, claiming Kyouya was her fiancé and that she'd be the club's new manager. You felt a pang of jealousy in your chest. Probably because of the manager thing. A tea cup fell out of your hand. You stared for a moment at the shards on the ground, before you sighed and began picking up the broken fragments. That would cost you at least a 1.000 Yen. Silently, you continued cleaning up, not feeling Kyoyas observant eyes on your back.

Chapter 3

[saratinz]

Maneater (Chapter 1)

pairing ➩ Ex!Bucky Barnes x Promiscuous!Reader (College AU)

series warnings ➩ drinking, asshole!Bucky, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, love triangle, smut, slut shaming, cursing

chapter warnings ➩ cursing, mentions of sex, kissing, betrayal (because reader is very bad at self control)

synopsis ➩ Y/n fucks up.

word count ➩ 800

“Truth or dare, Sophia?” says a drunk frat boy. You’re barely paying attention to the game. Instead you are focusing on the music that plays. You listen as it goes from The Killers to Kendrick Lamar. And from Kendrick to Dua Lipa. And from Dua to…

“Y/n?” Your friend, Wanda, pulls you out of your trance. 

“Truth or dare?” you hear a dude ask. The voice belongs to Thor, who definitely falls under the dumb jock stereotype. He’s not mean, but he also isn’t nice. It’s his ego that repels you.

“Dare,” you say without hesitation.

“Hmm,” he pretends to think. You already know he’s gonna tell you to kiss him. It’s written all over his face for one, he’s giving you major ‘fuck me’ eyes. “Kiss me,” and there it is. You walk over to him, grab him by the cheek, and connect your lips to his. It starts to get awkward for everyone as he sticks his tongue in your mouth as far as it will go. Not wanting to continue this uncomfortable embrace, you pull back and return to the spot beside Wan. Drinking your vodka and cranberry juice, you dare her to take a shot. 

As the game goes on you think about things. Like all those times Jane, your roommate, mentioned she had a thing for Thor. Well by the looks of it, he does not feel the same way. He’s a player and she should know that. The only reason he kissed you was the hope of sex. He’s not a keeper, so no, you don’t feel bad about your dare.

A half hour goes by and the game finally ends, leaving you to go back to your house. When suddenly, Thor pops by your side. “Can I walk you home?” He asks.

“Uhh, sure,” you give him a slight smile. A walk home is innocent, and you like the sound of having a football player by your side as you travel across campus in the dark. 

“So, I know we haven’t really talked that much, but I think you’re really cool and pretty, and maybe sometime we can go on a date.” He takes you by surprise, maybe Jane was right. Honestly, you had never expected the word date to come out of his mouth, and it’s really making you want him. What girl doesn’t like a little bit of attention?

“You know what, I’d really like that, but my friend is sorta in love with you.”

“Who,  Jane?”

“Yeah” You feel kinda wrong for telling him, but you’re not in middle school and it seems like he already knows. Your friendship with Jane is pretty superficial, she really just uses you for your notoriety among male students. But you’re not complaining, her dad pays for your housing. Of course you offered to pay your share, but he insisted.

“She’s spoiled and petty, but you, you’re perfect.” Shit. Fuck. Thor is saying all the right things. The silence that surrounds you is comforting, and you don’t feel bad at all, everything feels safe as you walk for a few uninterrupted seconds. 

“Listen as much as I want to kiss you, and I really do, I just can’t. I have to respect my friend, and she really likes you. You’re off limits”

“Wow, you’re a really good friend, sorry I don’t mean to make you feel pressured.”

“No, don’t feel bad. Shit, I made this awkward.”

He chuckles. “No you didn’t, just, I shouldn’t have asked you out” For three minutes, the two of you walk in silence. But being a good person was never your strong-suit. 

“What you said it isn’t true, I’m not a good friend.” He raises his eyebrows in curiosity. As you approach your doorway, your lips run to his, leaving the two of you making out right in front of your rental. His tongue is much more calculated than it was at the party, and his hands start to squeeze your ass. That’s when you pull back. You can’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” you say, disappointment evident in your tone. This is just wrong, you’re a horrible friend. You run to your door and slam the it shut. What the fuck did you just do? As you melt into the wall, struggling to breathe, you see Jane with the angriest expression you’ve ever seen. “Jane, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I did that.” 

Suddenly, your home is filled with screams of disappointment, anger, sadness, jealousy, and just about every negative emotion known to man. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” And you don’t bother reasoning with her, she will always get her way. 

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