#to be fair my grandma and mom were/are the same way but like. god i just wish i had a fucking say in it

[p33p33p00p00]

fucked up in the. my bedroom. thinking about how most of my time spent with my father was broadcasted onto facebook without my permission and every adult in my life encouraged this behavior by sending him pictures of me to specifically put on facebook

[youngestdaughtersyndrome]

Tagged by my darling @glassangels <3<3<3

1. Are you named after anyone? Im named after a kinks song which is a massive win for me personally. They almost named me rosa after the pixies album (which wouldve made sense bc we do in fact surf) but one of my moms friends was already knitting a sweater with the kinks-name on it and she convinced them to keep it. My middle name is also my paternal grandmas middle name so i guess that counts too

2. When was the last time you cried? No idea tbh. That thing where you lie down on your side and then your eyes start leaking happens to me a lot but a proper sadness-induced cry hasnt happened for months. I will say that sometimes i say something made me cry, and although it technically didnt due to no tears falling, it did make my soul hurt and crying is the closest phrase that expresses that <3

3. Do you have kids? Thank god no

4. What sports do you play/have you played? Soccer, ran track for a bit, ultimate frisbee, swimming, fencing, fighting (mma, kickboxing, cage, etc), equestrianism (im including my brief and unimpressive time vaulting here), did some stuff with a circus briefly (contortionism, aerial arts, lyra), and then the usual outdoorsy shit (surfing, bouldering, hiking, skiing, and since caving is technically a sport, caving). Also danced for a bit (ballet, contemporary, and jazz). Yeah man idk either

5. Do you use sarcasm? Technically yes but its less "sarcasm" and more "inability to express a truth about myself without making it into a joke". A bit of sarcasm when the time calls for it is always fair game though and i will indulge

6. What's the first thing you notice about someone? The way they carry themself says a lot about their temperament and emotional state and whatnot so thats typically where my eye is drawn. Second place goes to wherever theyre keeping their valuables on them and how expensively theyre dressed though

7. Eye color? Blue but ive got a bit of yellow central heterochromia so they tend to look green if its bright out

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Kill them <3 scary movies 4ever

9. Any talents? Party trick-wise i did retain some contortionist ability and so thats always a good one to break out. Also can spit water up to 30 ft for tooth gap reasons. I am the type of person whos just naturally good at a lot of things (sorry) so i consider that a talent too

10. Where were you born? The top left corner of the USA, not including alaska

11. Hobbies? Writing, journaling, watching movies, reading, various textile arts, going for walks, playing assorted instruments, and occasionally traditional art (im particularly fond of ballpoint pens and oil pastels). Would say listening to music but thats a job to me and i clock into that shit like i get paid

12. Any pets? Maeve the most anxious dog in the world who i love very much <3

13. Height? 5'8/172 cm

14. Favorite school subject? I was a school hater so it really depended on the teacher... in high school i did have the same teacher for like three years in a row (she taught me english in freshman year, history in sophomore, + health in junior) and she was totally awesome so all those classes were great. Typically the classes i had the most fun in were english and history just bc there was more room for fucking around. In the single semester of college i took i did have crazy amounts of fun in my film class though which i will say was mostly because my professor rocked and i got him on my side early so i could kind of do whatever

15. Dream job? Due to the Issues and also common sense mainly i just wish the government actually took care of people and i wouldnt need to work. But if i have to chose a job than itd be a) writing a book or two that are good enough i could live off the royalties and film rights and whatnot for the rest of my life or b) pulling an enya (dropping some widely beloved and largely incomprehensible music and then disappearing totally from the public eye to live in a castle in the middle of nowhere)

Idk whos already done this so ignore me if you have lol @supersonic1994 @nothingrhymedwithcircus @hauntedwoman @halogenstreetlight @evebabitzgf @serethereal and anyone else who wants to <3<3<3

[fierceawakening]

The other thing that’s weird is, like… (yes, I have stopped looking at that blog. I should not have in the first place but occasionally autismblr and cluster b blr intersect so since a lot of my friends are on the autism spectrum occasionally this is on my dash, and I took the bait and went down the rabbit hole yesterday, against my better judgment but I felt I had to make sure there’s nothing new that might change my mind)

Like. I’ve begun to suspect that part of the reason my mom and aunt are a bit messed up is that my grandma had some narcissistic traits. She was very image obsessed and shamed my mom for not being beautiful and lavished praise on my aunt for being the cute one. (I never saw it. Aunt constantly has a “something smells bad in here” expression and all I could ever see when I looked at her was Mr. Yuck.) (And yes, she did the same thing to me. But I'm trans. I wasn't profoundly affected by her desire for me to be a beautiful girl because that wasn't me in the first place.)

So I’m thinking both my mom and my aunt have some narcissistic traits too, and that this is part of why they’re both bizarrely mean on fairly frequent occasions. (Neither are mean all day every day. But I’d personally advise anyone considering befriending either of them to look out for flying insults.)

But if this is true, then it’s likely that if any of its hereditary, I also have some similar traits. I share DNA with these people, and they raised me, which means both that I'm like them biologically AND that they're the people who taught me how to act.

And... I suspect this is true!

I actually do have a very strong desire to win people’s respect and admiration. I read posts like “it’s okay to just exist and do nothing” and can’t figure out how anyone could tolerate that.

But I don’t think I have the pathology. Because I try very hard to recognize that if I want to be special, so do most people. If I achieve it and AM special, that implies so have many other people. Therefore, it makes no sense to think I’m superior, even if I sometimes would feel better if I were. That’s not how value works, and if I try to make it work that way when it doesn't, not only will I hurt a lot of people I don’t want to hurt and feel awful about doing it, but I’ll fail at the whole project anyway.

So never mind.

And if I WANT to feel superior, there are things I can do to do that without harming others. If I play competitive games, then when I win it’s not a delusion or even a belief, it’s measurable. Someone won and it was me.

Even more importantly, the other player consented knowing they might lose. I didn’t win by harming them. I won by taking the risk of losing myself, which is fair. Added bonus if I do win it’s verifiable. I don’t have to wonder if anyone agrees.

And if I lose? I don’t like it, but it happens all the time. All it means is I need to increase my skill or focus, which are goals I can achieve. (And sometimes it means HOLY HELL OPPONENT YOU ARE SMART AND I RESPECT THAT, even though I wanted to win too.)

So yeah. When people say “you have to let me believe I’m God so I stop hurting,” I’m not looking askance because that’s weird.

I’m looking askance because that’s not the only way to stop hurting and that means they’re lying.

[hdmiports]

thinking about maddy and mandie again

they're like so insufferably stupid together its not even funny. like they locked eyes for -2 seconds and maddy was already whipped so bad (she's just like me fr)

mandie is the same way but she was looking at a maddy like

for that entire cab ride i swear. but to be fair who can blame either of them, they're both just so 👹👹 yk. and yeah maybe im biased but i fucking love them like have you SEEN them ????????????????? guys like are you looking for a third bc i may be your god but ill pull a chuck and insert myself into the story babes

anyways speaking of them being literally the hottest people that don't actually exist, im sauuurr happy with their new revamps from the other day. this is what i was picturing when i first thought of them. also if you don't know they were born from a post on my writing blog where mandie is dead (rip) and maddy is basically a hxh chimera.... and i was so obsessed with their lesbianism that i stole them from myself for my creative writing class and now i think about them everyday

i love them so bad and also let me go deep in the recesses of my google drive and find the character sheets i made for them that defffffff need to be revamped bc i haven't changed them since that one post

most of this is still accurate tbh but i wanna talk more about it

maddy:

has a very complicated relationship with her mom (again, just like me fr)

her dad and his partner are her best friends even when she was still in georgia

also extremely close with her grandma, magnolia, who keeps her mom in check

really does hate mandie's twin brother bc he's a homophobic little bitch baby who's salty that his sister is cooler than him

her dad is Mr. New York Business but growing up he encouraged her love for art and dress up which inspired her to pursue fashion design (she picks mandie's outfits out when they start officially dating instead of being stupid homos)

mandie:

she transed her gener in middle school and is extremely out and proud about it

extremely close with her mom who was the first person she came out to

speaking of her mom, while she was pregnant with mandie and adam, she experienced some complications that severely reduced her hearing in both ears and she now communicates largely via ASL, which mandie is also studying in school

her dream is to open a salon that provides gender affirming services and offers stylists that are fluent in ASL at the very least

OKAY I HAVE TO GO TO CLASS BUT I WILL BE EXPANDING ON THIS LATER TRUST

[anonil88]

Tech i sold around 1600 worth of pride shirts last month. I only made enough to cover one month of cable (200) ,my phone (60), and groceries/food (120). But I didn't have enough leftover to put on my credit cards to cover this month and last month's payment that all the shirt charges go on.

So now I'm late on 2 cards and the job I thought I would get is another rejection/taking so long I think I'm being ghosted again.

Hahah. I'm useless this is so pathetic I should really find a bridge.

But I can't cause I have to help my granddad but what use is that. He's gonna fucking pass and then what. Hey he gets better at least I can jump and feel a little less guilty because I did at least one good thing before I go. And here I was thinking hey my designs have gotten really good. Someone has to buy all these good clothes soon right? All the ones on poshmark but nothing only 1 of the brand new pairs of shoes have went and I guess thats a testament to how everyone else is struggling too. I'm so stupid why is it fair to make money off of others who are also struggling but at least they have jobs and I'm too fucking dumb to even get one interview. And now I cant afford to sell anymore shirts and no one wants a commission. God I really did end up a loser and a waste just like my mom said I would be if I chose to be a lesbian. And I know I have value and worth but it's not good enough in this world. I can't do anything right and I'm refreshing all of my emails hoping praying there is an interview there or a you're hired. But nothing. Like what is wrong with me everyone that was struggling the same amount of time as me has gotten something by now. It may not be in their field or what they wanted but it's something. I can't get a remote job that has benefits ive even lowered my starting salary to exactly minimum wage for my state because maybe if im not difficult i can get hired. Maybe that's the universes plan for me to just show the people that sometimes you never get a step forward and you just fail even when you succeed. I'm finally looking at the stuff I'm making and I'm so excited because I've really improved but there's no job to sit behind it. My grandma bought me milk the other day and I was really grateful but I get upset because she shouldn't have to do that for me. Or I should be able to pay her back but I can't all I can do is help my granddad get around the house, make sure he gets his pills, and check his blood sugar. That's nothing in comparison to what I should be doing or where I should be in her eyes. And I'm nowhere near that, my mom would have had a job by now. But she has networking skills and I have the social skills of a walnut.

I'm in a hole and it's of my own creation. I thought creativity, passion, and skill were enough to at least keep the wifi on. I was stupid, young, and wrong. It means nothing in this world it probably means nothing in other worlds. This is just the way it is. This is the curse my mother spoke my queerness would leave me sad and alone. I'm not alone just lonely and not sad but discouraged. But maybe this is what she meant.

[moodymurda]

about a boy 8

my honey

the time we’ve had apart is how i know that i love you. and knowing that i love you is what made me pull away the way i did. i know we can both relate in not wanting to like each other from the very beginning. it was so childish in hindsight. my mom always says you make plans & god laughs. and that’s so true because what happened between us was more than what i bargained for. and nothing short of some of the best times in my life.

you being there for me the day [redacted so i can’t get sued or anything like that], the way you took care of me and literally held me up when my grandma was in the hospital, that first time we went to Waffle House together after that party and i realized i liked you, meeting up to sit in the car at the park and talking about our dreams, going with you to cecil to look at the planes and shit, just all of our little moments.

you came into my life and turned my world upside down in the best way. you made me view myself as more than just a girl. you helped me to accept and fall in love with the beautiful woman i am becoming.

that being said, the lack of reciprocity when i asked, it immediately broke my heart. that conversation was crushing to me. looking back, and even in the moment i was so proud of myself for how i handled it. bc while i felt terrible on the inside, i kept my cool. the old me would broke down, i would’ve begged, pleaded even. though i was proud of myself i realize now turning cold on you the way i did almost wasn’t fair. don’t get me wrong i stand behind it but at the same time i wish i had more compassion and understanding for you like you have always given me.

i can not lie, pain was driving me to act the way i was. seeing you be so sad after the fact confused me. it felt like you were trying to make me the bad guy for setting a boundary. so when you started to do nice things when we’d hang out with our friends, just the way you approached me, it all threw me off. partially because of a lot of what you started doing, you’d never done for me before while we were dating (or whatever you’d like to call it. that’s another thing but i won’t beat a dead horse).

some of what you had said stuck with me too. like when you asked “when was the last time we went on a real date”. i don’t know man, in the end i was left feeling so stupid for being open. it felt like i gave myself to someone who didn’t value me. i felt like i imagined that we were falling in love. the timing didn’t help either.

as time has gone by i realized some changes i needed to make, so i guess it wasn’t time wasted after all.

the night of [redacted] reminded me of how i love you. it forced me to confront how much i miss you. up until that point i was ignoring it to protect my heart. but in “protecting” my heart i fear i may have lost the sweetest love i’ve ever felt.

things weren’t ideal but i love how we always tried to meet in the middle no matter what. i love how looking into your eyes grounds me. how you protect & look out for me. i love that i can learn from you & that you aren’t afraid to admit that you’ve learned something from me. you’re gentle with me when you’re right & you aren’t afraid to be wrong. i’m afraid to give my heart to you because it feels like you are my one. and i don’t know that i could take having you break my heart, but even with that knowledge i’m still willing to take the chance

nia

[cuti3chw3]

some secrets can’t be kept

jeonghan yawned as he realized the comfort of his room didn’t feel the same without the chaos of his family, there’s no y/n koala hugging him as he slept, no nayeon threatening to get grandma on him, no seohyun playing in flour while everyone napped, no eunbyeol being the only behaving child and no jaehyung to wake him up, he checked his phone and was disappointed to know that he wasn’t woken up by his kids

“this some bullshit” he got back under his covers and tried to go back to sleep to no avail, so he got on his phone “all because seungcheol hyung thought of some bullshit to make me stay at the dorms” as if he was a light switch his mood changed immediately when he saw a photo his mother in law sent of the five people he misses the most playing in sand on some beach in jeju

his heart softened and he visibly smiled “jaehyung is so big” jeonghan’s mood changed again when one of the members decided to knock on the door “what do you want” the surprised voice of his best friend rung out in shock “you’re actually up” “yes, now what do you need” “get dressed we’re going out today” “i’m going home” “seungcheol hyung says not until you say why you ignored us for three months” “i’m not planning on telling either” the sigh of the younger 95 liner was enough to tell jeonghan to get dressed

“where are we going again” “dance room, the vocal unit is doing a dance cover for crush, all 13 of us are going to be there though” “i want to go home” the lack of answer made jeonghan groan before finally getting ready

“look who came out of the-” “shut the fuck up” “he’s grumpy seungkwan don’t bother him today” joshua patted his friend on the back and they all walked to go to the dance practice

“i’m tired” jeonghan groaned for the umpteenth time that day and the other members either shook their head or rolled their eyes “you can go home if you tell us why you ghosted us for three months” “i have a cat at my personal home and she was sick” jeonghan then showed all of them pictures of a cat, that in fact you had got as a gift for nayeon (read as family)

“was that the truth jeonghan” jeonghan looked the elder in his eyes and nodded “it’s true” seungcheol looked at him and sighed “sorry jeonghan, you can go home whenever you need too, what’s her name” “chijeu” some blinked before bursting out laughing “no way” “yes way”

i groaned in protest at the four year old trying to find some way to convince me to bring jeonghan here “mom, you’re obsessed with dad, you should’ve took him with us” “nayeon, honey he’s with his friends, he couldn’t come” “says who” i blinked at my daughter and she shuddered “nayeon i have been your age you haven’t been mine” “that’s not fair you’re like fourty”

seohyun snickered at this and eunbyeol looked, then blinked, turned away then she acted as if we didn’t exist while returning to her sandcastle “i’m actually in my twenties, you just turned four nayeon” “i’m still the prettiest four year old you’ve ever seen” i rolled my eyes while playing in jaehyung’s hair “i’m going to call him girls”

a couple rings later and his face came onto screen while heavily panting “hi my loves, i miss you all so much” i set the camera up where he could see jae and he gasped “our son gotten so big huh jeonghan, and he looks just like moi” jeonghan rolled his eyes making sure to stick out his tongue “i have you on the dance room speaker, so i can hear the girls in the back ground, it seems like jeju is fun”

“ah, your little demon called me fourty jeonghan” i then realized what he said and hung up abruptly, “oh my god, what did we just do”

jeonghan was confused on why y/n hung up then the voices of seventeen made him drop his phone “you lied to us about that cat huh” “do you even have a cat hyung” “why didn’t you tell us” “your pullout game is weak” “shut the hell up jun, jeonghan is a dad” the other members were either shocked or just confused on how he hid his family for so long

jeonghan denied everything while shaking his head no and waving his hands “so you see that’s not who you think it was”

seungcheol looked the younger in his eyes and shook his head “jeonghan how many kids do you have” he then sat down wide eyed as it all sunk in

he accidentally blew his biggest secret

masterlist

a/n: @butterfliesinthenightsky, here you go, it was a little later then i expected though!!

[glassartpeasants]

Distraction

Shigaraki x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff and death

A/N: For the sake of the story you are from a different country other then Japan. I finaly had the damn inspration to finish this. I’m gonna do another one after this, the only reason im posting this is because it was already 2/3 done. No lie though i kinda hate it :/

~~~

“Tomura.” You said in your annoyed voice. Ever since he got that fucking game, he’s been playing it nonstop and has completely ignored you existence.

“Tomura I love you .” Nothing.

“Tomura I’m pregnant.” Nothing.

“I’m breaking up with you.” Still nothing. You weren’t actually gonna break up with him but you wanted at least for him to look in your direction.

You let out a huff and crossed your arms. You were starting to get angry. And thats fair! 

You sit up from your spot on the bed and put on socks and shoes before walking out of his room.

“Miss (y/n), you seem to be frustrated right now. Is it Shigaraki Tomura?” Kurogiri spoke as you sat at the bar contemplating your life choices.

“Ever since he got that dumbass game he’s been ignoring me Kurogiri! He got that game a week ago and has only left his room for food, water and to go to the bathroom. I want to burn the damn thing. He hasn’t even talked to me in 3 days! Not a single peep.” You said anger in your voice but a bit of pain was also noticeable.

“I see. Well in my opinion...get back at him.”

“You mean ignore him like he’s been ignoring me?”

“Preciously.”

“I like the way you think Kurogiri.” And with that you left the hideout.

~~~

You sat on your bed in your own apartment with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in your hand as you watched cooking shows, wishing you could do the same thing.

And then that’s when your phone rang.

You immediately thought it was Shigaraki but only sighed when it was your mother. You put down your sandwich, paused your show and picked up the phone.

“Hey mom, what ya need?”

“I need you to come home.”

“What why?”

“It’s your grandma..” You let out a gasp in shock. Your grandma wasn’t doing well after your grandfather died. She always seemed to be in and out of the hospital. You felt tears prickle the corner of your eyes as you held a hand over your mouth.

“She’s super sick and the doctors think she’s not going to make it much longer. For the sake of seeing her on last time please come home.”

“Of course! I’ll start packing right away!”

“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you too.” And with that you hung up the phone and started packing immediately. You grabbed your suitcases off of your closet shelf and begun frantically putting in clothes and other things.

You opened your computer and booked the next flight to (random country). The flight was going to be in 2 days so you had to make sure everything was ready in that amount of time. The agonizing fear of something happening to your grandma made you forget all about Shigaraki.

~~~

The day of the flight

You look at your phone as you sit at the airport, waiting for you plane to be seated.

“All people going to (random country please start boarding the plane.” You shot up from your seat and immediately walked over towards the boarding area.

Still completely forgetting to tell shigaraki.

~~~

4 days after you left

Shigaraki sighed as the screen turned a colorful hue with the words your won on the screen. After 2 and a half weeks of gruesome playing he finally beat the game.

“Hey (y/n) I finally-” He turned around to look for you so he could tell you his achievement, only to find you were no where in sight.

“-beat it?” He shot up from his chair and walked into the bar his head snapping from left to right in hopes of finding you.

“She’s not here Shigaraki Tomura. She hasn’t been here for about a week.” Kurogiri said as he polished his glasses.

“What do you mean she hasn’t been here in a week?”

“Well considering you were ignoring her for that game you got, my best guess is that she’s at home.” Shigaraki felt anxiety creep up and worry also consuming his body. What if you realized you were way out of his league and dumped him. He only sighed as he grabbed his sweatshirt and made his way over to your house.

~~~

The weather was slowly getting worse and worse by the minute. He oh so wished he would have checked it before going outside considering he was now drenched from the pounding rain.

 He let out at sigh of relief once he saw your car in the driveway of your home. At least you would be there so he could apologize.

He went up to your door and did the secret knock you both had for each other.

Nothing. He did it again.

Nothing.

Shigaraki started to tremble a bit as he took the key fro under your place mat and opened the door only to see no signs of you being there. 

He looked high and low trying to find you with no success. He finally went to your room to find almost all of your clothes gone your bed unmade, and a single piece of paper on your nightstand.

He grabbed said paper with two finger only to feel his heart drop right out of his chest.

‘Leave at 9am tomorrow for (random country)’

So you really did leave him huh? Shigaraki dug his phone out of his pocket and went to call you only to realize that you had shut your phone off. His hands shook as all his fingers touched the phone causing it to crack and decay.

“She’ll be back! It’ll be okay Shigaraki..” Shigaraki told himself as he hugged himself falling to his knees silently prayed you would come back and not leave him all alone.

~~~

The days went by as you sat by your grandma holding her hand as you teared up.

“No need to cry (y/n), I’ll be okay.” Your grandma said to you smiling weakly. You put her hand to your forehead and just held it there.

You couldn’t help the tears streaming down your eyes as you saw them fall to the ground.

“Do you have someone you love (y/n)?” Her question startled you as your tear stained eyes look at her.

“I remember your mother talking to me about a guy you met who you said you were absolutely in love with. But you haven’t spoken a word about him since you came here.” You never told your mother Shigaraki’s name but you did tell her how madly in love with him.

“We’re having some issues right now... but lets not talk about that. Lets try to focus on happy things.”

“Sweetie, things happen. Everything will turn out alright i promise.” You looked at her through tear stained eyes as you held her hand a bit tighter.

Thats when you heard the beeping.

You look up at the heart monitor and saw the flat-line. You started crying profusely as you were taken out of the room while they tried to get her heart back up. But it was too late.

You cried out to your grandma before being taken by the hand by your mother and pulled into a constricting hug causing you to let out more tears.

~~~

You stayed at your home country for another week before setting off to Japan again. You wanted to stay longer but the pain you felt in your chest was too painful to stay there as everything reminded you of her.

~~~

You open you apartment door and close it with a sigh only to see that your apartment was completely trashed.

“WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK!” First your grandma died and now your house was robbed? 

You were shaking in anger and sadness as you fell to your knees, hugging yourself for comfort as you saw your tears making a little wet spot on the carpet below.

You take out your phone to call your friend only to see a number you haven’t seen in awhile.

Tomu <3

Your eyes widen as you look at his number realizing he had been trying to contact you almost ever since you left a month ago. You slap yourself remembering that you haven’t even texted him that whole time cause you were to focused on your grandma that you completely forgot about him.

You felt terrible.

“Oh my god! I haven’t even tried to text or call him! Oh no my poor Tomu...” Which only gave you another reason to cry.

You picked up the phone and pressed his contact to start a call. Your shaky hands holding the phone to your ear waiting to be cussed out and waiting to be dumped. It was only fair. You left for a month and never even told him where you were going.

Almost in a instant the phone was picked up and on the other side you heard hiccuping and a watery voice.

“(Y/N)...is that you?” His gravely voice asked.

“Im so sorry for not contacting you! I-” Before you could finish a purple warp gate showed up in your apartment right in front of you before shigaraki jumped out and tackled you to the ground. The warp gate closing behind him.

Shigaraki grabbed your face leaving dozens of kisses of your tear stained cheeks before hugging you. Bringing you close to his chest as he snuggled his face in your shoulder crying into it.

“I thought y-you left m-me...” He sobbed into your shoulder. You hug him back running your hand over his shaking figure.

“I’m so sorry baby...I..My grandmother died and i turned off my phone so i could focus on her. I should have told you. I was just so worried and...” You cried, both of you hugging one another as if your life depended on it.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you when i got my game...” He whispered as he peppered your neck in kisses.

“Im sorry for not telling you.” You sighed peacefully as you ran your hands through his hair as you try to calm him.

“Just please don’t leave me again...I don’t think i could handle it...”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[heavcnslyre]

ricky bowen x reader series! part two

— starstruck au!

series masterlist, part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten

IN WHICH you’re dragged along to camilla’s plans to try to meet ricky bowen— but the wrong one out of the two of you ends up in an encounter with him instead.

WARNINGS a lot more swearing this chapter rather than last, you have to get stitches

NOTES this chapter is actually pretty long. i’m not super happy with how it ends but it’s going to pick up in the next chapter exactly where it left off in this one, i just didn’t want to keep adding onto this one lmaoo. also there are some parts that are lowkey written poorly but i’m tired and it’s not too bad HAHAH enjoy!

edit 1-16-21 i changed the song he was singing if u saw it before no u didn’t!!!

(y/n) - your name

text dividers from @writeyourmindaway !!

lowercase intended.

“bye ash! have a good time!” you called as ashlyn was leaving. she waved goodbye and drove away in her parents car. it had taken a couple of hours for her to be happy with her outfit and hair/makeup, but she ended up looking really nice (not that she didn’t before, she just seemed to glow when she felt prettier). as you turned back into the house, camilla grabbed your arm and pulled you into your bedroom.

“what the hell cam?” you asked as she closed the bedroom door.

“mom and dad just agreed to me taking you around the city tonight and we’re going to nini’s party,” she said, turning towards the still packed suitcases and digging through them. you watched, eyebrows raised.

“really? what’s in it for me? i’m not just going to follow you to la to stalk this poor guy.”

camilla rolled her eyes and holds a dress up against herself in the mirror. “you can meet nini, maybe. you like her music, don’t you?”

“that dress is mine. and yeah i like her music but i’m not crashing her birthday party just to meet her.”

“whatever. you can wait in the car. i’ll just.... buy you something later.” she put the dress she had down and grabbed another one.

“how about you stop talking about ricky? i’ll go if you stop.”

camilla gave you an incredulous look. “stop talking about him? have you met me? or seen him?”

“fine. at least for the rest of the trip. take it or leave it.” she sighed and paused for a second, before nodding and grabbing the first dress she had.

“alright. but i’m wearing your dress.”

after the short drive to los angeles, camilla drove around, trying to find parking. but, naturally, it was los angeles, and there was no available parking. after more than ten minutes of searching, camilla sighed in frustration and pulled over, directly next to a ‘no parking’ sign. you pursed your lips and pointed up at it.

“cam, this is very clearly a no parking zone. you’re going to get a ticket,” she ignored you and dug in the backseat for her bag.

“i’ll be back in less than half an hour. stay put. if someone tries to talk to you... ignore them. or punch them, or something. i don’t care. just be safe.”

“you too,” you said, although it came out as more of a question. she moved the mirror to face her, made a few adjustments to her hair, then left the car quickly. you sighed and sank into your seat. it was going to be a while.

after almost half an hour with no sign of your sister, you texted her a simple ‘you okay?’ but recieved no response. you fidgeted in your seat, switching between random apps on your phone, trying to pass the time. eventually, close to 50 minutes pass and you sighed, realizing that you should probably go look for her.

you wrung your hands out and grabbed your bag, opening your door quickly and rushing across the street. the street was crowded and the main entrance to the club was packed full of fans wanting to get into the building. you stood on your toes, trying to find camilla, but you didn’t see her anywhere. ready to give up, you spot an alleyway by the building. you considered it for a moment before mentally saying fuck it and walking towards the alleyway. you’re busy looking for an entrance when a door opens suddenly and you ram into it, head first, knocking you onto your butt.

“ow, fuck,” you said, rubbing your head and wincing as you saw you were bleeding.

“oh, god!” the person who opened the door exclaimed as they knelt onto the ground to be at your level. “i’m so sorry— i didn’t know you were there.”

“it’s... it’s fine,” you said. “how could you have known?”

“can i help? i might have some bandaids in my car...”

you shook your head and look up at the person. “no, it’s... wait, are you ricky—”

he put one hand over your mouth and the other on the side of your face. “i’ll give you tickets to my next concert or something if you don’t scream my name.”

you shoved his hand off of you. “didn’t have to make it sound so kinky. i don’t want tickets to your show.”

“i...i didnt—” ricky stuttered but trailed off as a car pulls up in the alley. someone comes out of the drivers seat quickly.

“ricky, what the hell is going on?” the person asked as they advance towards you quickly. the person in the passenger seat gets out shortly after the first person and walked towards you as well.

“i... i hit her with my door on the way out. should probably take her to the hospital?” he asked nervously. the person knelt next to you and you recognize him as the guy ashlyn’s talking to from a few pictures she’s shown you.

“wait, you’re—”

“(y/n)?!” the person from the passenger seat exclaimed as they approached you. your eyes widened as ashlyn kneels in front of you, putting her hand on your cheek.

“ashlyn? what the hell?”

“i was about to ask you the same thing, what are you doing here?” she asked, worry written on her face. she moved your hand to look at the mark on your forehead.

“cam forced me here, she came to meet...” you looked over at ricky. “came to meet him.”

ashlyn rolled her eyes, not looking away from your face. “of course she did.”

“wait, how do you guys know each other?” ricky asked. “and who’s cam?”

“(y/n)’s my cousin, camilla is her sister. huge fan of yours,” ashlyn explained. “i should get her to a hospital.”

“let me take her,” ricky piped up. “i was the one who hit her.”

“ricky, you’re not even supposed to be out of the house right now. imagine what the press would say if you show up with.... a girl you don’t know at a hospital. you’d never get the role,” big red said firmly. ashlyn gave him a similar look to what big red was giving.

“i know but... i should take her. it’s only fair, i hit her,” ricky said, and him and red stared at each other for a minute. “besides, she just said her sister’s here. someone needs to find her, it’d be easier to explain coming from her cousin than me.”

“she would probably have a heart attack if it came from you,” ashlyn agreed. red sighed.

“fine. but just be careful, and stay out of the light. lurk in the shadows, or whatever. i’ll see you at your house in two hours.”

“okay.” ricky said. ashlyn stood up and helped you up.

“ricky, if you do anything to her, i will kill you. be careful. (y/n),” she turned to you. “i’ll try to distract cam and i’ll meet you at grandmas. text me what the doctor says.”

you hugged her quickly. “okay, i will.”

ashlyn gave one more stern look to ricky who raised his hands in defense before walking away with big red. ricky grabbed your bag off the ground and offered an arm for you to lean on to help bring you to the car. you shook your head, telling him you were fine and climbed into the passengers seat of his fancy car. he looked around before getting into the car quickly and putting on sunglasses.

“are you like on the run from the cops or something?” you asked after a minute of silence. he lookedcat you quickly, eyebrows knit.

“what do you mean?”

“well, you were coming out of a club through an alleyway, your friend was pulling the car into the alley and you’re acting super paranoid. should i be worried?”

he laughed. “no. running from the press, more like. i’m not supposed to be out this weekend. i’m.... up for a lead in a new tv show and any press this weekend, good or bad, could ruin it.”

“then why are you out? you could have easily avoided this whole situation by staying home,” you said pointedly. he sighed.

“i promised nini i’d sing at her party. i didn’t want to let her down. and i didn’t think someone would be walking down the alleyway at close to midnight anyways.”

you scoffed. “yeah well, i was there because of you anyways. your fault all around.”

he looked over at you with the same confused expression as before. “you were there because of me?”

“not like that. don’t get your hopes up,” you said. “my sister is obsessed with you, remember? she told me to wait in the car while she went to find you. it had been a while and the main entrance was packed. i needed to find a way in.”

“so... more your sisters fault, huh.”

“yeah. i guess so,” ricky grinned at you. you gave him a small, unamused smile back and turned to look out the window.

once you made it to the hospital, a doctor came to greet you almost immediately, as there were few people there. the doctor closed the curtain around you as he did the examination and ricky sat on the other side of it. you ended up getting a few stitches but he confirmed that you didn’t have any serious damage. the only thing he suggested was to keep an ice pack on it.

“so she’s okay?” ricky asked, peeking in through the curtain. the doctor laughed.

“yeah, she’s fine. let me go grab the ice pack, i’ll be back,” he left you and ricky in awkward silence for a moment. but, it was broken by his phone ringing loudly. his eyes widened and he answered the phone quickly.

“mom? what’s up?”

you couldn’t hear what she was saying on the other end, but he seemed to tense up after every second she talked. you watched, raising your eyebrows.

“okay, alright. stall him. i’ll be there in...” he looked at the clock on the wall. “twenty minutes. okay. thank you!”

ricky ended the call and turned towards you, a sheepish grin on his face. “yeah... so we may have to take a quick pit stop before i take you home.”

you glared at him. “you’ve got to be kidding.”

he wasn’t kidding.

as soon as you pulled up to his house, you text ashlyn.

you; help ricky is kidnapping me he just brought me to his house

ashlyn; if i didn’t know ricky i would be really worried rn

you; HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW HIM???

ashlyn; pretty well we’ve hung out a few times

you; oml

you; well he’s a kidnapper. and he made me get stitches

ashlyn; no way you needed stitches? what are you gonna tell your parents?

you; no clue!!!!! do i just casually tell them ricky bowen ran a door into my face???

ashlyn; fuck they probably wouldn’t take that well. i’ll figure it out and save ur ass. hang on.

you; you’re my favorite person in the entire world

ashlyn; i know

“you coming?” ricky asked from outside the car. you looked up from your phone, not even realizing that he had been waiting.

“oh, sorry.”

“no problem,” he mumbled. you get out of the car and he lead you into his house (past his six cars). it was huge. tall ceilings, brand new looking leather furniture, huge doors leading to the backyard, a spiral staircase. if you were being honest, it was pretty close to your dream house (or, one of your dream houses). you stared at it in disbelief.

“you, a seventeen year old, live here?”

ricky doesn’t look at you. he was staring into the yard, searching frantically. “yeah. been in the industry five years now, makes you a lot of money. i guess.”

“you guess?” he didn’t answer, instead suddenly pulled you out of the view of the backyard. he looked around, sees that it’s clear, and pulled you towards the stairs.

“keep your head down for a second,”

you put your head down and walk quickly next to him. “ricky, what the hell?”

“just... hang on.”

“why the hell are you pulling me?”

“shut up for a second.”

you stared at him, taken aback. “fine.”

once you got upstairs, he pulled you into a random room.

“here’s my guest room. make yourself comfortable i’ll... be right back,”

you folded your arms over your chest. “why the hell did you bring me here just to hide me?”

ricky looked at you with wide eyes. “no, no! i’m not trying to hide you, necessarily. i just... don’t think either of us want anyone to see you.”

“harsh, but fine. go, mingle or whatever. just be quick. i don’t want my parents to be more pissed than they probably already are,” he thanked you and ran out of the room quickly. you sighed and sat in a chair in the corner of the room, pulling out your phone.

ashlyn; talked to ur parents. told them that you’re with a friend of mine because you fell and he wanted to take care of you. they’re not... happy, necessarily. less pissed than before tho

ashlyn; u still alive over there?

you; yeah. ricky hid me in his guest bedroom so he could go mingle at some party i’m assuming his parents are throwing

ashlyn; OHH yeah his parents threw a party tonight, i don’t see why he needs to be there?

you; he told me on the way here that a producer of the show he’s trying to get a role in is here and he wasn’t supposed to leave home this weekend

you; idk or at least that’s what i think he said i didn’t rly pay attention

ashlyn; aren’t you just a kind ball of sunshine

as you were typing your response, you heard a guitar strumming from outside. looking up and realizing that the balcony door was open, you decided to go see what was going on. you looked down and saw ricky sitting on a stool, strumming his guitar. he started to sing— a song you didn’t recognize. you knew most of his music (in result from camilla blasting it around the house every chance possible) but this one sounded new.

you say you gotta think it over

i can't stop thinkin' of you

is he the guy you want to hold ya

i'll be here when you need me to

you listened, suddenly intrigued. this song was nice— gentle, almost. you actually kinda liked it. and he seemed at peace as he was singing in front of these people, he seemed genuinely happy.

make you feel beautiful in the morning

light you up when the rain won't stop pouring

'cause there's a million little things I haven't told ya

it kills me every time he's with you, so

ricky made eye contact with you and his expression almost softened when he saw you watching. he smiled gently at you.

he continued the song. he seemed to be in a trance, so focused on the song and perfecting it. as you listened to the lyrics of what was obviously a love song, you sighed. it was beautiful, but you didn’t think it was appropriate for you to just be standing here watching him, as if this was a big romantic gesture in a movie. before he finished singing, you turned away and left the guest room.

you made your way down to the garage, trying to avoid anyone who happened to be inside— for both yours and ricky’s sake. you slipped into the garage quickly and before you even took ten steps inside, ricky was behind you.

“what are you doing?” he asked, a happy expression still on his face from singing. your eyes widened at his expression but you shook the feeling off quickly.

“i want to go home,”

“alright. were you planning on walking?”

you rolled your eyes. “haha. no dumbass, i was going to wait for you in here. not walking to glendale.”

he grabbed a pair of car keys from the hooks. “hey, glendale’s not that far, you’d make it there alright.”

“yeah, a teenage girl walking the streets of california at random hours of the night by herself. definitely make it there alright.”

he hummed. “you did it earlier,” he winked at you and moved to open the passenger door of his blue car for you. you got into the car and he closed the door, going to the drivers side.

“what’s your grandmas address?”

you told him the address and he pulled out of the garage, checking to make sure no one was watching, pulled out of his driveway, and drove down the street.

“so, what are you in california for?” he asked after a couple minutes of silence.

“holidays. we haven’t spent christmas with my family in a while, and california with my grandma seemed like a somewhat neutral place for us and my aunt and uncle to come to.”

“and where are you from?”

“western new york.”

ricky whistles. “completely across the country. yikes. different time zone too, right?”

“yeah. and the jet lag is an ass, i’m exhausted.”

“oh i get that. when i go on tour... i do nothing but sleep, eat, and perform.”

“that is quite the life to live.”

“tell me about it,” although he obviously meant that as a joke, there was a lining of bitterness in his tone that you picked up on. you looked over at him, but he stared straight forward at the road.

“so,” he started again, obviously eager to change the subject. “ashlyn’s your cousin?”

“mhm, has been my whole life,” you joked and he rolled his eyes playfully at you. “i had no idea you guys knew each other.”

“you didn’t know she was talking to big red?”

“i knew she was talking to a boy, she didn’t mention who he was, other than showing me a couple pictures. didn’t even tell me it was nini’s birthday party she was going to tonight.”

“oh. yeah, ashlyn’s the best. big red’s really happy with her.”

“and she seems happy with him. turn left here,” you pointed and he moved over into the turning lane. he turned onto your grandmas street and her house was the second on the right.

“thank you. for the ride,” you said awkwardly as you opened the door to his car.

“yeah, sure. thank you... for not getting too pissed at me for making you have to get stitches.”

you give him a small laugh and sit for a moment, feeling like you should say something else, but finally deciding to just leave. you said a small bye and he gave you a small wave and you rushed into the back door of your grandma’s house.

[nothingbutimagines]

The Holidate (Steve Rogers)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Cursing, fluff, lots of bickering and pining

Summary: After Y/n’s grandmother has been hounding her to get a boyfriend, Y/n convinces Steve, the only team member alone on Christmas and her slight enemy, to go with her to her family’s Christmas Eve dinner. 

Author: Dizzy

A/N: On the second day of ficmas, my fanfic writer gave to me two characters fake dating on Christmas Eve. Tomorrow is Roommate!Tom Holland x Reader and yesterday was Peter Parker x Reader. As always, requests are open and happy holidays to you all!

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

__________________

“Yes, Grandma, I will be bringing my boyfriend with me.” You said softly, holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you folded clothes and placed them into your overnight bag. “Yes, he’s very handsome, of course. His name? It’s uh-”

Steve walked into the view of your doorway, knocking on the door frame softly, his eyebrow raised at you.

“It’s Steve. Yes, Steve. Cute, right? Listen, I have to go, but I will call you when we are on our way, okay?” You gave Steve a slight wave as you straightened up, holding the phone away from your face. “Love you too. Bye.”

You let out a heavy sigh, tossing your phone on the bed before turning to Steve. 

“You think I’m cute?” He asked, a chuckle escaping his lips. 

“Ew, as if.” You turned away, starting to fold your clothing once again. “I know you didn’t come here to eavesdrop on me and my grandmother. What do you want?”

“Well, this handsome man-”

“I never called you handsome.”

“I came here to inform you that everyone has left for the holidays, so this wing of the compound is about to be very cold since Tony wants to save electricity while everyone is out for the week.”

“Are you leaving, Steve?”

“No, I don’t have any plans. I just thought I’d stay here. Why?”

“How would you like to attend Christmas Eve dinner with my family?” You asked, turning to him with a glowing smile on your face. 

“What’s the catch?” 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame as he studied the look on your face, attempting to read your expression as your smile fell slightly. 

“Why would there be a catch?”

“Oh, come on, Y/n, you never do acts of kindness without something in return.”

You scoffed. “That is so not true! I do nice things all the time.”

“Yesterday, you gave me the extra burrito you had gotten at Chipotle and didn’t finish and then five minutes later, I got your Venmo request for the apparent four dollars and seventy-eight cents I ate.”

You laughed. “I only do that stuff to you cause it’s funny, but I didn’t think you’d hold a grudge about it.”

“It’s not a grudge-” Steve sighed and rolled his eyes. “Enough about yesterday. What is the catch in coming to meet your family?”

You zipped up your bag and looked at him sheepishly.

“I hope you’re a good actor because you have to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Steve let out a laugh and shook his head. “I’d rather be alone on the holiday than pretend to be your boyfriend.”

“You forgot to say ‘no offense.’”

“No, I hope you do take offense. I’m not going and I hope you’re bothered.”

“I am! Steve, come on! I already told my grandmother you were coming. Please, I will do anything if you do me just this one favor.”

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

You raised your hand and nodded. “Really. Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t even a scout.”

“Uh, yeah, I was. I was a girl scout for like three years.” You argued. “Which is something you should know as my boyfriend.”

“I am not about to learn your life’s story just to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are. We have a four hour drive ahead of us.” You replied, slinging your bag over your shoulder and slipping past him. “Now, let’s go get you some clothes and get the hell out of here. It’s already getting cold.”

“I think I can dress myself.”

“No you can’t.”

__________________

“I hate this sweater.” Steve stated, tugging at the woven fabric as he shifted in his seat. 

“Oh my god, shut up about the sweater! It looks nice!” 

“It’s so stiff and itchy. There’s a reason it was in the back of my closet.” 

“Could you sound anymore like a child?” You snapped. “Also, when I said we were driving, I was hoping you’d get behind the wheel.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest as you glanced away from the road and at him. 

“Well, you’re the one who kidnapped me, so you have to drive. It’s only fair.”

“I didn’t even kidnap you! You came willingly.”

“That was before you made me wear this sweater!” Steve groaned, sinking into the car seat slightly. “It was also before I found out when you said you’d do anything for me in return, that meant you’d only wash my car and nothing else.”

“I don’t know why you expected me to willingly do paperwork for the next four days!” 

“Because you said you’d do anything!”

“Ugh! We both know I’m liar!” 

“You’ve got that right.”

You sighed heavily, moving your hands on the steering wheel. “I don’t know why I even asked you to do this. I should’ve asked Vision. At least he knows my last name.”

“I know your last name.”

“When I asked you what my last name was, you said Gatsby!”

“I know it now.” Steve corrected himself. “And of course Vision knows your last name! He’s a machine! Like a microwave!”

“I’d rather have a microwave who knows my last name as a fake boyfriend.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Do you even know my last name?” Steve challenged, turning down the music that was playing on the stereo.

“It’s Rogers.”

“Oh, so you do know.” 

“Yeah, I do know.” You scoffed, leaning forward and turning the music back up. “How about we just sit and listen to music for the last thirty minutes of this car ride?”

Steve turned down the music again and looked over at you. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say if your family asks how we met.”

“Easy. Just say we met at work.”

“Wouldn’t that be weird? Since I’m your boss?”

“Actually, Fury is my boss. You’re just like the one coworker who thinks he’s the manager when the manager isn’t there.” 

“I am not!”

“Newsflash, asshole, you’ve been on the same playing field as us all the whole time!” 

“Language.”

“Who are you? My father?” You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Let’s just get this story straight and we’ll worry about your old man attitude later.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that last part.”

“Anyway,” You started, “we will just say that we met at work and we’ve only been dating a few months now, but I’m bringing you because you don’t have any family to see on the holidays.”

“Oh, so I’m the sad orphan you’re saving? That’s the lie we’re going with?”

“Are you dying of fucking dementia, grandpa?” You asked, the sarcasm thick in your voice. “I literally didn’t make up a lie, it was all true!”

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah. Just tell the truth, you know, minus the part where we are not dating.” You insisted. “And try to remember my last name, for the love of God.”

“It’s Y/l/n, I know. I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Never. Now you can see why when I said I’d do anything, I wasn’t going to do just anything.”

Your phone buzzed in the cup holder between you and you reached your hand down to grab it, instead grabbing something else soft and warm. You pulled your hand away, glancing over to see Steve’s hand already on your phone. 

“You know, Y/n, if you wanted to hold hands, you could’ve just asked. We are dating after all.”

“Shut up. Just hand me my phone so I can read my text message. It might be from my mom.” 

You reached for the phone in Steve’s hands, your other hand still on the wheel and your eyes on the road as he slapped your hand away lightly. 

“No way. You’re driving. I’ll read it to you.” He insisted, attempting to open your phone before looking at you. “I need your face to open your phone.”

“There is a password. It’s ‘Steve sucks major dong’. all lowercase, no space.”

“That didn’t work.”

“I know it wouldn’t. I just wanted to say it.” You chuckled. “The password is ‘there is no password’, no spaces, all lowercase.”

“Clever.” Steve replied, now looking intently at your phone before reading out loud, “Peter aka Spiderboy says that he washed the car you asked him to and even waxed it since he thought it would look nice, so you can just venmo him his twenty dollars.” 

“Oh, good. I didn’t think he’d get that done until the weekend.”

“You paid Tony’s little mentor kid to wash my car, didn’t you?” Steve asked, setting your phone down back in the cup holder. 

“Of course I did. You didn’t really think I’d do it myself, did you? It so much easier to pay some kid cash than do it myself.”

“Fair point.”

You took a turn into the driveway of your parent’s house, sighing heavily as you put the car into park and turned to Steve. 

“Listen to me,” You ordered, poking him in the chest. “If you so much as hint at the fact that we aren’t actually dating, I will kill you. Don’t call me pet names, don’t annoy me. We just need to make it through the next two days and we’ll never have to speak of this again.”

“Hold on. The next two days?” Steve’s eyes were wide as they met yours. 

“Why the fuck did you think I packed you a bag?”

“I don’t know! Just in case I spill on myself?”

“Are you a baby? Do you need a diaper bag?” You mocked, your attitude clearly annoyed. “How often do you spill on yourself?”

“Well, never, but maybe now I might! Maybe I might because I’m nervous now that you’re holding me hostage in the middle of nowhere!” 

“You are so dramatic, my God!” You groaned, unbuckling yourself before swinging open your door and jumping out of the car. “Just grab your bag so we can go inside.” 

You opened the door to the backseat, now face to face with Steve who was on the other side, grabbing his own bag and coat. You stuck your tongue out at him, only to cause him to roll his eyes before you both closed your doors and you locked the car. You made your way around to Steve’s side of the car, holding your hand out to him. 

“What are you doing?”

“Hold my hand.” You ordered, waving your hand at him. 

“I don’t want to hold your hand.”

“Suck it up. You have to. We have to look like we’re together.”

“I hate you so much.” 

“Shut up and hold it already!” You cried, waving your hand wildly before he took your hand in his. “Thank you.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

You guided him down the walkway and up the stairs onto your parent’s front porch. You leaned forward, ringing the doorbell before looking up at Steve, who had a strong frown on his face. You yanked his hand lightly, causing him to look at you. 

“Smile. Look like you love me.” You whispered as the front door opened, to reveal your mother and father. “Mom, dad! Hi!”

“Y/n, honey, it’s so good to see you.” You mother beamed, looking between you and Steve. “Oh, you must be Steve! Y/n has told us so much about you!”

Steve raised a brow, a smirk on his face as he looked at you. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, of course! She thinks you are just the cutest and I can see why.”

“Mom, come on.” You groaned, feeling as though you were back in your teens, bringing home your high school boyfriend to meet your parents. 

“Oh, hush, just let us have a chance to tease you.” She laughed, touching your shoulder as you slipped into the house past her. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, let us have our fun.” Steve agreed, following you inside. 

“Oh, Steve, Y/n’s father will take both of your bags to your room.” Your mother said, your father taking your bag from you and taking Steve’s as well. “I need to go check on the ham, but make yourselves at home! Everyone is in the living room.”

You nodded as your two parents departed before turning to Steve, taking your hand from him. “Sweetheart? Really?”

“I was trying to sound like a boyfriend.”

“It was weird. Please, don’t do that again. Just, just don’t call me pet names.”

“If I can’t call you pet names, what do I call you?” Steve asked as he followed you down the hallway to the living room. 

“Just call me by my name, okay?” You nodded, flashing a smile before turning forward, walking into the living room. 

“Y/n!” Your grandmother beamed, causing the rest of the room to turn and face you.

“Hello, Grandma. Hello, everyone, this is Steve. My, uh-”

“Her boyfriend. Nice to meet you all.” Steve gave a small wave to the room as you took a seat down on the couch besides your grandmother, Steve following your lead. 

You gave your grandmother a quick kiss, sinking into the couch as Steve sat beside you. 

“He’s very handsome.” Your grandmother whispered, leaning in close to you and gave you a quick wink. “Good job.”

You gave her a shy smile. “Thank you, Gran.”

“It’s uh, very nice to meet you, ma’am.” Steve spoke up, leaning forward to look past you.

“Oh, you too, honey. And might I say, you are cute as a button. If I was a few years younger, I’d swoon for you just as Y/n here has.” 

“Okay, Gran. Let’s not embarrass Steve.” 

“Oh, I’m not embarrassed.” Steve corrected, a hand on his chest, “I’m flattered, actually. But that blush on your cheeks might indicate you are the one embarrassed.” 

Your mother walked into the living room, her smile bright as she clapped her hands together, gathering the attention of everyone in the room. 

“Alright! Dinner is ready if you all are hungry.” 

“Thank God.” You stood up, smoothing out the fabric of your pants as you took a deep breath. “Come on, Steve.”

“Coming.” Steve stood up and followed you threw the entrance to the kitchen. 

“Oh, look who’s under the mistletoe!” Your grandmother beamed as you both stopped to look back at her. 

“Oh, Grandma, please.” You shook your head. “It’s just a silly tradition.”

“Oh nonsense, Y/n, it’s fun.” 

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s just a funny tradition.” Steve smirked, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to him before kissing you softly. 

You hummed, shocked by the gesture before melting a bit at the sensation of his lips on yours. You put your hand on his chest before pulling away, only to realize you were the only ones left in the hallway. 

"If you ever kiss me like that again-" You whispered, your voice almost a hiss as you followed him down the hallway.

"Shut up, you liked it, you opened your mouth for tongue." 

"I did not!" You retorted.

"Then why'd you lick mine when I stuck it in your mouth?" Steve questioned, looking back at you with a matter of fact look on his face.

"Just don't kiss me, alright?"

“So now I can’t kiss you? How do you expect us to fake date if I can’t even properly pretend?”

“You just want an excuse to kiss me, don’t you, Steve?”

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t like that, too.”

“I can like the action of kissing without liking the person.” You stated, turning away from him as you grabbed a dinner plate, piling on the food you wanted before following the rest of the group into the dining room. 

“Y/n, Steve, we left a spot open for you two so you can sit together.” Your mother motioned towards you. 

You took a seat between Steve and your grandmother, sandwiched between them and wishing you hadn’t picked the spot as you looked around the table, your parents sitting at the two heads and you older brother and his girlfriend sitting across from you with your younger sister sandwiched between them. 

“So,” Your mother started, looking at the two of you, “how did you two meet?”

“We met at work.” You stated simply, not looking up from your plate as you pushed around your food. 

“I’m sorry, I should have asked Steve. Steve, how did you two meet?” 

“Uh,” Steve looked over at you for reassurance, only to receive a confused expression in response, “we met at work, Y/n is right, but it wasn’t as simple as that. I think when we first met, we kind of butted heads a lot and bickered all the time.”

Steve glanced over at you, taking your hand in his. “You know how Y/n is, she teases everyone, and I think for a while I thought she just hated me, but then I figured out she was really only ever teasing me because she liked me. I don’t know if it was romantic or not, but I knew I liked her romantically. It was kind of a no-brainer, whether or not to ask her out. So, I did. She laughed in my face, of course, but when she realized I was serious, she reciprocated the sentiment and said yes.” 

You watched Steve as he spoke, your hand warming up in his as you sat silently. You were amazed by the story, almost believing it yourself. He may not have known your last name until earlier in the day, but in that moment, you realized just how observant he was of you along with how easy you were to read. 

It was true, you had only ever teased and tormented Steve because you liked him, but you were never sure if it was romantic interest in him that had you acting the way you did. 

Sure, Steve was handsome and kind and he was easy to talk to when you actually talked to him and he never quite put up with your shit, but did you like him?

Your eyes grew wide with realization as you quickly turned down to your plate and began eating quietly. 

“Y/n? Did you hear me?” Your mother asked.

“No, I’m sorry, I was lost in thought. What?” 

“Did you tease Steve because you liked him romantically?” She asked. “Like a school boy pulling a girl’s pigtails?”

You shrugged, stabbing a piece of ham with your fork. “I don’t know. I think at the time, I didn’t really realize how much I really liked him romantically. You know how I am, I’m not the romantic type.” 

“But somehow she sure did fall in love with me, right, doll?” Steve asked, putting a hand on your head, brushing through you hair. 

You nodded against his head, swallowing hard. “Yeah, yes! I did. I love Steve quite a lot.” 

“Oh, well that’s so sweet. John, your turn, tell us about this lovely lady right here.” Your mother turned her attention to your older brother, taking the spotlight away from you and Steve.

“Oh thank god.” You let out the breath you were holding and looked at Steve. “You’re a really good liar, you know that?” 

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He whispered back. “We should fake date more often, maybe at restaurants for those free desserts you get on your anniversary.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“Oh, I think you can.” Steve chuckled. “You did say you love me ‘quite a lot.’” 

“I was lying, just like you did with your little story.”

“But was I fully lying there?” Steve leaned in close to you, his face close to yours.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“You like me, don’t you, sweetheart?” He leaned in a little closer

“As if.”

“Oh really? Because the closer I’ve gotten, the pinker your face has gotten.”

“Don’t make me say it, Steve.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. The way you kissed me earlier has said enough.”

“You kissed me first.”

“And I’ll do it again.” 

[keanureevesisbae]

Coach Cavill - Chapter 11

Summary: Amelia and Henry are going apple picking.

Coach!Henry Cavill x Amelia Jung (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 5.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: I don’t know Henry’s family (well duh 🙄), but I wrote them in a way it would fit into this story. However, please keep in mind that this is in no way reality. Also, I know it has been over a month since I last updated this fic, so thank you for your patience 🥰

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

After what seemed the longest day at school, I quickly drove home, so I could get ready for my date with Henry. I’ve been looking forward to it since the moment we agreed to it. I love apple picking and the fact that I get to spend even more time with Henry, is definitely something I’m not saying no to.

Yesterday morning and this morning Henry came by to bring us all something nice to drink (a caramel cappuccino in the morning just hits different) and to pick up his sandwiches. I can’t believe that this is actually happening right now. After divorcing Dean, I thought dating was out of the question, really. I figured Dean would move on with his new girlfriend (and I mean, he certainly did: they’re getting married and have a baby—I think that definitely qualifies for moving on), while I would sit in my house, surrounded by my kids and my friends and I’d probably date when I was over fifty, when the kids would be long off on their own.

I mean, I wasn’t opposed to it. I had been with the same man since I was eighteen, being on my own felt like an entire lifetime ago and I was thoroughly enjoying it.

However, I met Henry and it seems to fit. I wouldn’t have dared to dream someone like him fitting here so perfectly.

My house is filled with kids. They all know I’m going out and when I’m gone, they have the place to themselves and don’t have to—and I’m quoting both myself and Eve here—use their inside voices as Eve is still working. While Benji, Lola, Jake, Isabella and Yara are all hanging on the couches watching some tv, I’m frantically running around, in order to get myself ready for this date. I took a quick shower, to clean myself up a little, since there was a slight peeing incident today at school and unfortunately, some got spilled on me. Not on accident of course. Poor kid was really anxious the entire day, since it’s not going well with his grandma. Besides, my own kids and Eve’s kids all peed or puked on me at least once, so you could say I have seen my fair share.

‘Amelia,’ Lola says, as I’m pacing through the living room, ‘why are you nervous?’

‘I’m not nervous,’ I tell her.

Benji smiles. ‘Yes mom, you are. Relax, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a date.’

I sigh deeply, knowing deep down that it’s not a big deal and I should relax. It’s indeed just a date and I already know Henry. He comes by in the morning and gives me a kiss. Nothing to worry about. ‘Am I looking too casual?’ I ask them, as I look down to my tight blue jeans, the thick black sweater and the black ankle boots. I have my warm white coat ready on the backrest of the seat. ‘This is too casual,’ I conclude.

‘Mom,’ Isabella says, while she sits on Lola’s lap, ‘you look really pretty and I know that Henry thinks so too. This morning he said that you looked really pretty.’

He did what? ‘When did he say that to you?’ I ask her.

‘When you were checking your bag.’ Isabella smiles and I can’t even hide my blush.

The doorbell rings and I let out a high pitched scream.

Yara starts to giggle. ‘You can do this, Amelia,’ she says. ‘Really you can.’

I can’t believe I need a few kids to hype me up, but to be fair: I am a bit rusty in the whole dating department. If they think I’m a nervous wreck now, they should’ve seen me seventeen years ago when I went on a date with Dean. ‘I know, I’ve got this,’ I say as casual as possible. I walk to the door and when I open it, I’m met with the beauty that is called Henry Cavill. His coat hangs open, only to reveal yet another cable sweater.

‘You are absolutely breathtaking,’ Henry says with a smile. ‘I’m so lucky.’

My mouth falls open. ‘You have got to be kidding me,’ I laugh. ‘Seriously Henry, you are already the embodiment of perfection and then you say this.’

Henry looks at his shoes and from the looks of it, he is trying to cover up a blush. That is adorable, really.

‘I just have to get my coat. You want to come in?’

‘Of course,’ he says, when I step to the side to let him in.

‘Where is Kal?’ I ask him. ‘I haven’t seen him in a while.'

‘Greg and Annabelle are watching him. I can’t say no to that sweet face.’

‘Whose sweet face?’ I ask with a chuckle.

Henry simply rolls his eyes, but lets out a laugh anyway

‘Oh, by the way, you have to know there are three teenagers and two young girls sitting in the living room.’

He nods. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ He closes the door behind me and presses a light kiss on forehead. ‘Did I already say to you that you’re pretty?’

‘You told me I was breathtaking,’ I say with a smile. ‘But I did hear you were talking to my daughter about how pretty I looked this morning.’

He chuckles. ‘I might’ve.’ I feel his lips on the tip of my nose and my stomach twists and turns in a pleasant way. I almost forgot how the first weeks of a new relationship type of thing feels like.

I clear my throat as I try to regain some composure and together we enter the living room. Jake starts to make kissy sounds, causing me to roll my eyes. ‘Grow up, will you?’ I say to him, as I grab my coat.

Henry gently pulls it out of my hands, before holding it up for me, so I can easily slide my arms through the sleeves.

This man… Is he honestly real? I hope every minor on that couch is making mental notes, because this is peak gentleman behavior and I want them all to remember this for when they start dating.

‘I won’t,’ Jake laughs. ‘This is way too much fun.’

‘Well, I’ll keep this in mind for when you start dating,’ I say, as I zip up the coat. ‘Remember, I can embarrass you even better. Remind me, how old were you again when you peed on my porch?’

Yara pretends to vomit, while Isabella exclaims: ‘Ew, you peed on our porch? That’s disgusting!’

‘I think he was six the first time, mom,’ Benji says with a chuckle and Lola starts to laugh as well, before adding: ‘And the last time he was ten.’

‘You wouldn’t, right?’ Jake asks, his eyes enlarged.

‘If you don’t zip it, I definitely will. I have tons up my sleeve,’ I say with a smile. ‘Okay, kids, I’ll be back around dinner time. Isabella and Yara, please don’t touch the stove and oven. If you need something, ask the older kids, okay?’

‘Yes,’ the two of them say.

‘If you guys need anything, just remember, Eve is next door and I’m one phone call away.’

The five of them nod. ‘We know.’

‘Also, I’d rather have something left to eat here, so please don’t be swines and eat everything.’

‘We won’t,’ they all say.

‘And—’

‘Amelia, just go!’ Lola laughs. ‘We know how to behave ourselves here. It’s not the first time we’re alone here.’

‘Yes, mom, we’ll manage,’ Benji adds.

I nod, realizing I’m totally overreacting. They are home alone here all the time, while I hang out with Eve and Johnny. This isn’t new. ‘Right, you are totally right. I’m so sorry.’

‘Have fun,’ my daughter says.

‘We will,’ I say, ‘and Jake, for the love of God, don’t say: but not too much fun.’

‘How did you know I was about to say that?’ he asks, his voice a bit higher from sheer surprise.

‘You are fairly predictable,’ Henry says. ‘Even I knew you were going to say that.’

I finally manage to leave the place with Henry and when we’re finally in his truck, I lean over to give him a long kiss on his soft lips. He hums against my mouth, as he places his rough hand on my cheek. I can’t believe he actually deepens the kiss, but I’m not complaining at all. I could kiss this man non stop for hours on end, without getting tired of it. When we let each other go, I smile. ‘I really missed you,’ I say, ‘though I saw you this morning. Is that too clingy?’

‘Not too clingy at all, because I missed you too. I can’t get quite enough of you.’ He starts the car when we put on the seatbelts and he says: ‘I bought the ingredients you told me to buy for the pies. I also bought some whipped cream, because Greg told me if I were going to eat one of your apple pies, there has to be whipped cream on top of it.’

‘Greg is an absolute angel for reminding you, because I am out of whipped cream and he is totally right. Did you know I won the pie baking contest back in middle school with my fabulous apple pie?’

‘I did not know,’ Henry says, as he drives off. He mindlessly places his hand on my leg and I can’t stop myself to place mine on top of it. ‘I really look forward to this,’ he admits. ‘I have never been apple picking before.’

‘It’s so much fun. Pro tip: you have to walk at least twenty minutes before you start picking. Then you find the best apples.’

‘Good thing I have an expert with me,’ he says. ‘Greg told me it would be fun.’

‘You tell Greg quite a lot,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘Well, no wonder he kept wiggling his eyebrows at me yesterday.’ I wrap my arms around his thick one, before placing my head on his bicep. When Dean and I were still married, I could never sit against him like this in the car, because our seats were separated. Henry’s truck allows me to scoot over a bit to the middle, so I can melt against his broad frame. ‘I’m sorry about Jake,’ I say.

‘Well, don’t be. I really love the way you are with not only your kids, but also with Eve’s. It truly shows how close you guys are. I think it’s great you two live next to one another and you can always lean on each other.’

‘It sure is.’

‘Tell me, Amelia, how was your day at school?’

I tell him about how the kids were sweet today and how we made some Halloween related drawings. I even mention the slight peeing incident, but also that it was no big deal really. ‘How was your day?’

‘It was okay,’ he says, but I can hear his voice flatten a bit.

I look to the side, only to discover a deep frown between his brows. From the looks of it, today was not okay. ‘What happened?’

‘My mother called,’ he says, ‘telling me to come back home.’

‘Oh,’ I say. That can’t be good? ‘Are you going back?’

‘No of course not, I just arrived here. Besides, my life here is much better than in Jersey.’ He sighs. ‘She thought it was a horrible idea to move here. She also didn’t approve of my choices of work and sure doesn’t like it I’m doing it overseas now.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, when you have four brothers who are either with the Marines, lawyers and all that stuff, you could say I’m the loser of the family.’

‘Or are you the only one that followed their heart?’ I ask. ‘I mean, do you even know if your brothers enjoy what they do?’

He simply shrugs. It’s been hard on Henry to open up, I can see that. ‘Henry,’ I say, ‘when I grew up, I wanted to work at the mortuary.’

‘What?’ he asks. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I went to my granddad’s funeral and I was in that age where I wanted to experience everything. The woman who helped us arranging the funeral, I was in awe of her. I went with her probably the entire time and she told me what she did for a living. I was actually planning on becoming one, figuring out to what colleges I had to go to, but then I went to Korea. After I came back, I realized I didn’t want to work with the dead, but with the living and preferably our future.’ Realizing that, per usual, I’m about to miss the point I was going to make. ‘What I’m trying to say with this, was that every career move I had in mind, it wasn’t something my parents wanted me to do. They envisioned me becoming a doctor, or a a lawyer, owning my own business. But they just accepted all the choices I made, whether they liked it or not.’

Henry laughs. ‘Wow,’ he says. ‘I just can’t believe you wanted to work at a mortuary. You sure are quite something, Amelia.’

‘I like to keep on surprising.’

‘Figured. What about your kids?’

I chuckle. ‘They have interesting plans. Benji wants to become a career judoka, but I told him he needs to think about getting a degree. He might be quite the judoka now, but what if one day he gets injured or he doesn’t make it? So he came up with the idea of either becoming a dentist or a coach, like you.’

‘Really?’

‘Mhm and to be honest, I’m leaning more towards coach. I think he would be really good at that. He really has an eye for the details, with not only himself, but also with others. And Isabella wants to be famous, but she hasn’t figured out how she’ll get famous.’

He nods. ‘And you support them?’

‘Of course, they are my kids. The point is that your parents should accept you and your choices. The idea of parenting is that you prepare your kids to be ready for the world, not to dictate their lives. You might have an idea of what type of career fits them best, but they have to decide for themselves, make their own choices and mistakes. Besides, I could think of worse career moves. I mean, a judo coach is a great job and being famous… It’s quite something, I have to give her that and with Isabella’s personality, she would enjoy it so much. She loves being in the spotlights, preferably alone.’

‘You’re an excellent mother. Mine could learn a thing or two from you.’ Henry parks the car on the lot, but doesn’t get out. It’s almost like he wants to say something else to me. Knowing how hard it can be for some people to open up, I decide to wait and see whether or not he wants to tell me what is on his heart. ‘You know,’ he starts with a sigh, ‘my mom never went to one of my games.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ I ask him. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Seeing these kids here, with their entire support system at the games, it warms my heart. I’m happy they have that.’

I study his face. ‘But you can be a bit jealous,’ I say. ‘That’s allowed.’

‘By you?’

‘By everyone. We all want something we didn’t have growing up and that’s normal. Parents try—or at least it appears as if they do—but they can never give their kids what they deserve. It pains me to know that there are things that I can’t provide for my kids or that I can’t meet their needs. I remember when I was doing my first internship at a primary school, I saw this mother who had four beautiful daughters. That’s what I wanted: sisters or brothers. I was all alone growing up and people would kill for that, but I just wanted a companion within my family. But my parents couldn’t give me that.’ I send him a reassuring smile. ‘Believe me, it can be hard to see kids who have what you have always wanted growing up or kids that are deprived of that what you had.’

Henry nods. ‘Wise woman you are.’

‘Shut up.’

‘I mean it! And just know that when I look over at the bleachers now and I see you, I realize that you are my support system.’

That is the sweetest thing someone has ever said to me.

We get out of the car and all the nerves I experienced back in my own house, are all gone now, especially when he reaches over to hold my hand. Being around Henry is so easy and it worried me  a bit I didn’t feel so tense and nervous around him. When I first started dating Dean, I was a nervous wreck for at least two months. But maybe it’s unfair to compare teen Amelia, to adult Amelia who is divorced and has two kids.

When we arrive at the apple picking field, Henry hands me a bucket and together we walk over the grass, finding the spot with the best apples. ‘So tell me all about the divorce, Henry.’

He chuckles. ‘How long have you been thinking about this?’

‘To be fair? The second you told me about it. I mean, who would divorce you?’

‘I could say the same thing about you. You are the catch of the town.’

‘You are too,’ I say.

He bites his bottom lip as he stares ahead of him. ‘Okay, so I told you that my parents wanted me to marry her and her family wanted her to marry me.’

‘Yes.’

‘And how she dated my friend behind my back and we got divorced, right?’

‘Yes. I’m just curious to why you agreed to it?’

He snickers. ‘It had to do with a trust fund.’

‘Trust fund? That is honestly a thing?’ I ask.

Henry nods. ‘It is. So, if I married her, I would eventually get access to the trust fund.’

Eventually. That isn’t promising. ‘But you got divorced,’ I note. ‘What happened to the trust fund?’

‘It is now a yacht, owned by my parents.’

I place my hand on his arm. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘Never expected the word fucking to leave the lips of kindergarten teacher Amelia Jung,’ he chuckles. ‘But no, I’m not kidding. When I divorced Vera, that’s my ex, they knew she slept with my best friend, but they blamed me.’

This is absolutely infuriating me. ‘You have to give me your parents’ number,’ I say in all seriousness, ‘so I can call them and tell them their parenting style is honestly unbelievable. Henry you are a grown man! You should decide for yourself who you are dating or what kind of career you want to pursue. And that trust fund thing, how low, my goodness.’

Henry chuckles. ‘You understand why I had to leave?’

‘Oh, I more than understand, I just wonder why you didn’t leave sooner. I really don’t want to talk badly about your parents since I don’t know them, but this crosses a line. What an idiots.’

He nudges my side. ‘This fired up look really suits you, Amelia,’ he admits. ‘I like it.’

I look up and he smiles. He is so beautiful, my oh my. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Always.’

‘How rich are your parents? I don’t need a number, but just an indication.’

‘They are pretty rich,’ he says. ‘Like, there is a possibility we would have marry a distant cousin to keep the money in the family, if there are no more trusted family friends who are single.’

Why do I know exactly what kind of family this is about? ‘I didn’t know Jersey had those types of rich.’

‘We keep on surprising,’ he chuckles. ‘Honestly, I never really fitted in, always the black sheep of the family. I’m just grateful I’m out of there and living my own life, even if it’s at age thirty eight.’

‘Luna Meadows sure is lucky to have you here.’ I stand on my toes, to give him a kiss on his soft lips. ‘You sure you don’t want me to call your parents?’

‘I don’t think they are ready for that,’ he smiles. ‘If they find out I’m dating you, they’ll flip.’

Oh my, we’re dating? Is that what he is saying? ‘Is it because I’m Korean?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, it’s more you having kids.’

‘Don’t your parents want grandkids? I thought everyone with kids is desperate to become grandparents.’

‘They do, just blood related grandkids.’

I simply scoff. ‘Your parents are a piece of work.’

‘You can say that again.’ I’m already opening my mouth, but he is way ahead of me. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he chuckles. We start picking some good looking apples, as the late autumn sun warms my back. ‘Okay Amelia, I see a nice apple, but I can’t reach.’

‘Well, that sucks,’ I say, ‘because of you can’t reach it, I certainly ca— Oh no! Henry, put me down!’ I scream as he wraps his arm around my legs, lifting me up.

‘It’s the one on your right,’ he tells me, but I have closed my eyes shut. ‘Come on, Jung, it’s not that high!’

‘It is!’ I say. ‘You know I’m afraid of heights.’

‘I know you are. Just pick that one apple.’

I manage to open only one eye and quickly grab the one on my right. After I nearly broke the branch while picking it, he carefully puts me down. ‘That wasn’t funny, coach Cavill,’ I tell him, pointing dangerously at him with my pointer finger.

‘Oh look at that,’ he chuckles, ‘the teacher-finger.’

I try not to smile, but I fail. ‘Shut up.’

He bites his bottom lip, only making my heart pound really fast. Is he aware of the effect he has on my heart, especially when he does that? Henry leans in to give me a quick peck on my lips.

Amelia, please, now is not the time to faint.

‘Excuse me,’ I hear a voice behind me say and I cannot believe it’s Trixie again. Of course she is here, to ruin my fantastic date. She accidentally sat in the booth next to me on my second date with Dean, together with her friends. ‘Coach Cavill, I wanted to talk to you about George, is now a good time?’

I want to smack that smug grin of her face. No, now isn’t a good time and any human being with even one braincell could’ve figured that out.

Henry clears his throat, obviously a little caught off guard. ‘Uh, what did you wanted to talk about?’ he asks, as he scratches himself in the back of his neck.

‘His progress.’

Well, I can tell her all about that: her twelve year old is just as bad as he was three years ago. There is no progress with George Yates.

‘I think we should have that conversation a little later,’ Henry says with a professional tone, ‘when we’re at the center for example. I have video material and all. We could have a chat tomorrow, before training.’

‘Can’t wait,’ she says. ‘Amelia, are you having fun?’

‘Mhm, we’re going to make an apple pie at his place,’ I say, holding up the basket. ‘Remember, back in middle school when we were in that pie baking contest and I made one of my famous apple pies. What did you make again?’

Her face grows pale.

‘Oh right, pecan pie, with that very dark crust.’

Trixie is ready to skin me alive and honestly, I can’t really blame her, because I have been in her shoes more than once. For years her words would stab me like knives and now it’s the other way around. I remember when I came back from Korea, the way she gave me a hard time because my band Forever Hope disbanded. I mean, what did she accomplishment in those years? A date with Lucas Yates?

However, back then I just ignored her, but now I can’t. She will do anything to discredit me, but after that last phone call I had with Eve, when Trixie told me how I did not want to host a baby shower and a sweet sixteen at the same time, I felt this newly gained power to not allow her words to get to me.

I came to the realization that Trixie is still stuck in her high school mentality, while I grew up and actually matured. This gossiping and undermining thing was ridiculous back in school, but now… It’s still ridiculous, but also just plain pathetic. And maybe my comments aren’t exactly mature, but this is honestly just a small part of the payback she deserves after all those years of nearly bullying me.

‘Well, Trixie, Henry and I have some baking to do. See you later.’ I grab Henry by his hand and pull him with me. Henry doesn’t say a word on our way back to the truck, but once we’re both seated, he starts to laugh. ‘What?’ I ask.

‘How much underlying anger was in that conversation?’

‘Oh, quite a lot,’ I chuckle. I try not to think about the whole kid thing, because I honestly think it’s too soon for Henry and I to have that discussion. ‘Trixie and I go way back and I just felt this need to tell her off. Sorry.’

‘No need for apologies, remember?’ He places his hand on my leg and gives me a comforting squeeze. ‘Just so you know: I like you seeing you like this.’ He leans over and presses a kiss on my lips. ‘Now let’s go and make that famous apple pie of yours.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Making apple pie with Henry was nearly impossible. For starters, I had to make a checklist of every single thing that needed to be done at his place and spoiler alert: it’s a lot. I don’t want to call this place a dump, but… It kind of resembles one, if I’m being honest. When I finally managed to get myself to the kitchen, he continued to distract me with hugs and kisses. I mean, it’s not the worst thing I could think of (it was quite romantic), but once I’m baking pies, there is just this instant switch and I have a severe case of tunnel vision.

But of course, I managed to pull it off, with shockingly little help of Henry (but he made it all up by being handsome and handing me the stuff I needed). Now we are waiting for the three pies to cool a bit, as we are sitting on the couch. ‘I didn’t get any texts from the kids,’ I say, as I stare at my phone. ‘Or Eve for that matter. Are they okay?’

‘I think you are worrying too much.’

‘I’m not,’ I tell him, but when I look up and see his eyes, I realize I’m lying. ‘Okay, maybe I worry too much. It’s a trait I got only after the divorce. I usually was pretty chilled, very laid back, however when they went to their dad for the first time after the divorce… I was a nervous wreck. I think I finished up an entire bottle of wine and some.’

‘Oh no,’ he chuckles. ‘I’m sorry.’ He wraps an arm around my shoulders and lets out a sigh. ‘But I think it’s a mom’s job to worry.’

‘Yeah, part of the job, indeed.’

He doesn’t say anything for a while, but then he breaks the silence by saying: ‘You know, I keep thinking about Benji and that… anger outburst he had the other day.’

‘I know, I know, we’re trying to work on it, but… He just bottles up all of his emotions and then they come out uncontrolled. It’s so uncharacteristic of him, but he has been having them since he was little. I just worry sometimes he might hurt someone.’

‘I understand,’ Henry whispers.

‘But when he was younger, he would also save it when it was just us, when his dad wasn’t around. Probably because I just let him have his rage, before finally stopping when it was about to get out of hand. Dean on the other hand would get really angry. I think he felt and still feels safer to do it when he is with me.’

‘Understandable.’

‘I just worry a lot and that resulted in quite a few grey hairs.’

‘Listen,’ he says, ‘you are doing an excellent job, that I can guarantee. I mean, listen only to my parents and how much of a train wreck they are.’

I chuckle. ‘That’s a wonderful compliment, thanks for that, Henry.’

‘You understand what I mean.’

‘I sure do and… I know I’m doing good, but sometimes I just lack so much in my own opinion.’ I lean towards him, to press a long kiss on his lips. Before he can say anything to that last statement I made, I say: ‘We should get going. Think the pies are ready.’

‘And you desperately want to get back to your children, copy that.’

Henry and I get in his truck, with the slightly steaming pies covered in tea towels so you won’t burn your hands when you hold them. I adore being in a car with him, especially when he places his hand on my thigh. When we arrive home, Henry holds the pies in his hands and when I open the door, I only hear Isabella’s and Benji’s laughs, meaning the other kids went home. I’ll bring the other pie to Eve’s tonight. ‘Hi sweeties,’ I say when I walk into the living room, seeing the two of them on the couch.

‘Mom!’ They jump up and rush towards me and hug me close. ‘How was it?’ Benji asks.

‘It was wonderful,’ Henry says, ‘and you kids are lucky your mom loves you a lot, because otherwise I would’ve eaten all of this all by myself.’

Benji holds out his hands to help Henry out and brings the pies to the kitchen. Isabella jumps up and with one arm he balances her on his hip. ‘You wouldn’t, right?’

‘Oh, I think he would,’ I chuckle.

We walk to the kitchen, where Benji already has four plates prepared. ‘Oh shoot,’ I say to Henry, ‘I left the whipped cream in the car.’

‘I’ll get it, no worries,’ he says with a smile, before turning around, as he grabs his keys from the counter.

When he is out of hearing distance, Isabella pokes my arm. ‘And?’

‘And what?’ I ask her.

‘Did you two kiss again?’

The fact that I’m stammering, is the answer to her question. ‘Why do you care?’ Benji asks his little sister.

‘It’s just so romantic,’ she exclaims and wraps her arms around my shoulders, pressing her cheek against mine.

Henry walks back in with the whipped cream, tosses it up, before catching it with his other hand. Show off, I think to myself. ‘Who wants some?’ he asks.

‘I do, I do!’ Isabella says.

‘On your nose or on the pie?’ Henry asks with a smile.

‘On the pie,’ she chuckles. ‘You are a pig.’

‘You can’t just call people pigs,’ I say to her, softly squeezing her side.

‘You do it all the time, mom.’

‘Some things need to stay within the Jung family, honey,’ I whisper in her ear. ‘Okay, Isabella, pick a piece.’

We take our plates with the piece of pie and the whipped cream and sit at the table. Benji is seated next to me and when I look to the side, I notice him looking at Henry and how he is treating Isabella. I bump my knee against his and our eyes meet. My sweet boy, I think to myself. He sends me a quick smile and I chuckle.

‘Benji and Isabella, do you mind if I talk to you two about something?’

‘Is it something we did?’ Benji asks, his voice dripping with worry.

I place my hand on his wrist. ‘No, sweetheart, it’s nothing you did.’

Henry shakes his head. ‘It’s just something I need you to know.’

Isabella looks up to the side, as she takes in the broad man next to him. ‘What is it?’

‘Well I want you two to know that… Just because I’m dating your mom, doesn’t mean I’m trying to steal her away from you nor to become your new dad. She is still your mom and you two are her number one priorities.’

My daughter chuckles. ‘Henry, we know all that.’

‘And we are more than happy to share our mom with you,’ Benji tells him.

While Henry is a bit surprised, I am not, because I just knew my kids would react like this. ‘Really?’ He can’t help but smile and that melts my heart.

‘Really,’ my two kids confirm and I smile when I see how happy the three of them are. ‘Is there anything you wish I know or you expect from me?’ He looks over at Isabella, who already opened her mouth. ‘And that does not involve watching television with you passed your bedtime,’ he says, causing her to pout.

‘Just make my mom happy,’ Benji says and if my heart wasn’t completely melted away, it is now.

‘Honey,’ I say, as I wrap my arms around his neck. I can feel he is rolling his eyes. ‘You are too sweet.’

‘Mom, stop,’ he laughs.

‘My boy is such a darling,’ I continue, simply to pester him.

‘Mom!’ Benji says, trying to push me off, but I’m simply too strong for now.

‘I did such a good job raising you,’ I chuckle, as I pepper his cheek with kisses.

‘Mom!’ He starts to laugh and I actually let him go now. ‘Don’t hug me like that again, but I meant what I said. Just make my mom happy and then I’m happy.’

‘I can do that,’ Henry says. ‘I promise.’

[peachyproserpina]

Oops Pt. 2

Jason Roberts (SVU) x Fem!Reader

Part one here!

Here it is! It's kinda jumpy but I hope yall enjoy it! Tagging my love @glassbxttless for all your help with this and the fact it's dedicated to you!

TW: Smut, Alcohol, Drugs, Food, lots of Crying, mentions of abuse, mentions of Death, pregnancy, babies, swearing

As always! If I have missed a tag let me know and I will tag it!

You hiss when the cold jelly gets smeared on your stomach, you’re fucking pregnant, test after test after fucking test and you’re pregnant. You booked an appointment with Planned Parenthood as soon as they would let you and made Jason come with. They confirmed with a blood test that yes indeed you we’re pregnant and about 5ish weeks along at that point. You both looked at each other and the nurse could see the panic between you too. She sent you home with a stack of pamphlets as thick as your arm and assured you that you have options, even if you needed to make them quick.

That was 3 weeks ago when your bras still fit you, this isn’t your first ultrasound but the jelly never gets any better no matter how much you prepare. Jason is here, he’s insisted on coming to every appointment. He was clingy before but ever since you found out he’s been even worse. Watching the cameras and your location more so then before and having you facetime him whenever you’re out of the apartment. Clingy.

-

You’re at 12 weeks now and your monkey is about as big as a lime and really fucking with everything they can. You’re showing now, now matter how many layers or flowy dresses you put on, and between the cravings and the aversions (Chocolate is a go but for some reason tacos make you gag) you’ve put on a few pounds. Jason loves it, after the shock wore off and you both decided to keep it, always wanting kids but never knowing when. It just. Felt right. He picked up on your moods and cravings just as well as he did before and the fact your chest is so big now you cant even wear a bra is a plus. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve been woken up with Jason between your thighs as soon as he’s home from work, or when he gently fucks you awake, big hand covering your whole bump and cooing praise in your ear before filling you with cum and letting you get the sleep you need. You’re both adjusting and determined to ‘keep you safe babygirl’ Jason got a promotion with a healthy wage and he’s kept you cooped up at home where he can watch you and his monkey.

-

“I’m so sorry you have to grow up without a Daddy monkey.” You’re gently rubbing your bump as you walk down the street, en route to your old apartment. The one right across the hall from Jason used to live, where his mom still lives.

“He’s just so dumb for telling grandma I’m going to kill him before you’re born I’m sure of it.” You don’t notice the looks from the people milling on the stairway of the building, too bust fuming at the fact Jason managed to do the one thing you asked him not to do.

Tell anyone.

You wanted to keep it until you knew the gender, maybe post something on your socials, call your family about it. Invite Estelle over for a dinner and let her know then. But nope, Jason as much as a mommas boy he is, spilled the beans a day after you asked him not to. Causing you to make your way to the old building for a ‘baby-baby shower’ with his mom, with a strict “No boys allowed!’ leaving Jason a mess as you walked around New York, knowing he was never far, always watching you helped calm him down. You don’t even have to kock before Estelle is rushing you in the door, and you can’t tell if it’s the spread she has thoughtfully laid out or the hormones but you’re already crying.

There’s cute little cakes, caffeine free tea, candies, chocolate, pickles, and everything else you have possibly been craving spread all over her kitchen table, you hug her close and try to stop your tears.

“Let's get you sat down before you hurt yourself honey.” She sits you in one of her kitchen chairs and brings you a tissue, you thank her as she hands you a cup of tea and you both settle in for the afternoon celebration. She’s dipped into the brandy and brought out all of Jason’s old baby stuff she’ll be sending you home with, you’re flipping through and laughing when you stop on a picture of newborn Jason being held in a man's arms. You furrow your brow and she picks up on that. “He was an awful man you know. Beat me black and blue and Jason too.” Her words take you by surprise, Jason never talked about his dad, just that he was a deadbeat and glad he was dead.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Jason never.” She cuts you off with a soft hand on your thigh before she gently rubs the top of your belly.

“He died young you know, I-” she takes a swig of brandy before she continues. “He beat Jason so bad he broke his arm. Can you believe that? Jason wasn’t much older then 7, still a baby and that bastard broke his arm.” You’re speechless as you flick your eyes between Estelle and the photo of Jason’s father. “He was sleeping around too. Thought I didn’t know, it was the 90’s of course I fucking knew when his pager was going off at all hours. He didn’t even have a pager for work.” You sniffle and nod your head, you really had no idea, Jason never talked about his father and you let it be.

“He shoulda known better, sleeping pills and coke are a dangerous mix you know. Add in some tramp and all the clubs he was going to it was bound to happen sooner or later.” She smiles at you then and you’ve seen that same smile on Jason, recognize that smile. That’s the one he gave you after he came over and installed the first camera. Your blood runs cold for a second before you’re pulled out of your head by Estelle flipping the page and cooing at how cute Jason was taking apart his first Nintendo console.

-

20 weeks, 5 months and you’re suffering. Your hips are aching and popping, there’s this nerve in your back that keeps pinching and sometimes it’s so bad you can’t even move. You can’t even sleep a full night before the little one is moving around or you’re dying from how hot it is. You whine as Jason gets up, jostling you awake.

“Jas no, come back to bed I finally got some sleep.” You’re making grabby hands at him and he walks around to your side of the bed and pressing kisses against your hair.

“I cant baby, we’re gonna have people over for your shower and I should clean up a little.” Jason is rubbing his hand up and down your belly as he talks, settling the little one and you can feel angry tears well up in your eyes.

“Do we have to? I don’t want to Jason, please?” You can feel the tears leak out now and you’re mad, mad at him, mad at your monkey for keeping you up, mad at yourself for getting pregnant. He kisses your tears before giving you a filthy kiss and teasing his fingers over your clit that makes you gasp and forget all about how mad you just were.

“You have friends come over and we get to know whether it’s a boy or a girl. Then we get to think about names. So no. I’ll get the bath ready for ya momma.” Jason's walking away before you can pull him back and demand he makes you cum. You shut your eyes and try to get ready for this day.

The party is easy breezy, gifts were exchanged, weird games were played, and your friends organized a cute revel, filling a box with so many pink balloons and streamers, and ribbon you’re sure you’re going to find them even after your baby is born. Jason’s getting nervous again, you’ve kicked everyone out saying you’re tired and they left without complaint.

“Whats wrong Jas? I can feel you worrying from over here.” You scoot over on the couch and make room for him, he moves from where he was cleaning stuff up and drops into the seat. He’s running his hands through his hair before you pull one to your lips and kiss it. He’s lets out the breath he was holding, letting the tension drop from his shoulders as he rests his head back on the couch. Spreading his long long legs out wide, you feel the pang of arousal as you eye up his thighs, his crotch the way his adam’s apple bobs when he smiles before he letting everything out.

“What if I’m not right for you? What if I’m just like my dad? I don’t think I’m good enough to raise your ba-” you cut off his tirade by straddling his thigh and rubbing your cunt against it. You whipped off your bottoms as soon as everyone left, just in your panties and a tank as you lounged and watched Jason. His head snaps up and he whimpers when he can feel you soak through his denim already. You pull his hands up to cup your chest, sighing as you catch your clit as just the right angle and he lifts up your heavy tits, giving your back a little bit of a break.

“You’re gonna be fucking perfect Jason.” You’re getting desperate and the way Jason is looking at you like you single-handedly hung the stars in the sky is feeding your ego and your arousal. His chest is rising and falling just as fast as yours is and his cock has filled out so fast he’s light headed. You keep going, so desperate after that little tease this morning you’re already close to coming and its not fair. Jason tenses his thigh under you and you gasp. “Do that fucking again Jas. Right now.” He whines and does as he is told, as the little change helps push you over the edge and you’re cumming, soaking his jeans and hungrier than before for his cock. You weave your fingers through his hair and yank, hard.

“Take your cock out right fucking now.” He’s nodding eyes glazed over as he rushes to do what you’ve asked. You don’t let up on the death grip on his hair, covering his neck with dark hickies and bites that he’ll have to cover up when he leaves for work. You feel the trail of precum as he frees his cock from his pants and it slides up your thigh, you pull back and when you see it, so angry red and big for you you grind down onto his thigh again and moan. You’re maneuvering yourself so you can sit on Jason's cock and ever the worrier he is, he's helping. Spreading his legs wider, his hands holding your hips so you and your belly can fit against him tight on the couch that is probably too small to be doing this on.

You let go of his hair, pull his lips to yours as you finally sit down on his cock, the moan you rip from your chest is almost as pretty as Jason’s sigh.

“You’re so fucking tight for me baby girl. So fucking hot.” Jason's mouth is running and you huff, not happy he’s coherent enough to do so. You kiss him again, nipping on his bottom lip hard as you start to move. His hands are everywhere, your tits, your thighs, your back pulling you close so he can shove his tongue down your throat. You haven’t been at this long but you can feel the orgasm building right at the base of your spine, where lately it’s only hurt. It’s not long before Jason has a thumb on your clit and a nipple in his mouth. You hold him close to your chest as you bounce bounce bounce on his big dick.

“Fuck I'm gonna cum Jason. Please keep doing that.” You tilt your head back and grind yourself onto him, you’re so fucking close and you can feel from the way Jason’s pulsing inside of you he’s not too far off either. He pinches the nipple he doesn’t have in his mouth hard and that's enough to tip you over the edge, soaking his lap yet again as you cum. Thighs shaking tense as you clamp down on Jason’s length and he is right behind you. Filling you up to overflowing with his cum, messy as you both come down.

-

“JASON!” You’re frantic as you call for him,m knowing damn well he is not there. You can feel your water pool where you're standing in the kitchen. Of course the ONE DAY Jason has to go into work your water breaks. You reach for your phone that's ringing as you shift worriedly in your spot in the kitchen.

“What's wrong babygirl?” Jason’s on the other line, frantic, you can hear shouting in the back. It might be his boss but you’re starting to freak out and the first contraction hits and you wail. “Baby, talk to me, I can see you but the cameras don’t have microphones yet.”

“I- my water just broke Jas, I just had a contraction I need you here.” You’re crying, panicking and you can hear Jason huff and puffin your ear. He’s surprisingly calm on the other end as you sniffle into the phone, trying to remember those stupid breathing exercises you learned about in that Virtual birthing class you both took.

“I’m almost home love, can you get to the bag near the door?” You move, stiff and awkward but you’re moving. “Good job baby girl. Get to the bag by the door and I’m almost home. We'll get you to the hospital soon, promise.” You’re taking those deep breaths as you waddle to the door.

“Jas, how are you almost home? It takes 20 fucking-” you gasp as you feel another twinge and take big gulps of air. “You’re 20 minutes away if you take the train.” You’re puzzled as you hear him breathing heavy through the line.

“I just ran. It’s faster.” You nearly drop the phone at that.

“You did not! Jason! You are going to die!” You’re laughing and you can hear his footsteps pounding, you’re at the go bag by the door and you try to bend over to pick it up and nearly fall over. You’re still not fucking used to being this big. The door slams open as you’re resting against the wall bag as your feet and ruined clothes. Jason's there, your man, your creepy fucking neighbor who spied on you and now got your pregnant. He’s sweaty, he really did run all the way from work for you and the thought makes you want to laugh and cry at how much you fucking love him. But then another contraction hits and you're crying out in pain again. He’s picking up the bag at your feet before he’s helping you step into some slides and gently ushering you down the stairs to Estelle's car that is waiting to take you to the hospital.

One Epidural and 14 hours of labor later you have your baby girl, Delilah Stella Roberts, sleeping against your chest and Jason is trying not to cry as she has him already wrapped around her finger.

[yslkook]

#take it offline (3)

#corporate masterlist summary: in the weeks leading up to the first workshop taking place in tokyo, you find yourself having several epiphanies and become better acquainted with jeon jungkook. word count: 7765 warnings: cursing, parental death, a mom who walked out, discussion of mental health, alcohol a/n: enjoy the VIBES. i like using appa because appa means dad in my language, and eomma is pronounced the same way for mom in my language too (i’m not korean)

***

After a year passed after your dad’s death, you had gotten a tattoo. It’s big and bold and colorful on your thigh, filled with all of the flowers that your dad treasured the most. Your dad had been so artistic and soft, taking time to enjoy the beauty of small things. He had a small garden in your childhood home, and you remember how meticulously he took care of his flowers. Namely, his favorites were cherry blossoms, pink hibiscuses, white roses and lilies.

There’s always a vase of flowers at home, on your nightstand. As your little tribute to him.

You remember the first time your dad had seen a sunflower- he’d seen it on the internet, and had been fascinated. He had picked you up and twirled you around, promising you that he’d take you to America to see it, to see mazes and fields of sunflowers.

Of course, you never went. Still, the memory is a fond one for you. 

You often think that your mother must have been a cruel woman, and that you had received all of her personality and none of your father’s. Your father, who was quiet, soft, and steadfast. And then you, who was brash, impulsive and always angry.

You gave up trying to understand how she could leave your father- she had left when you were just two. Appa never hid her from you, always wanting you to know that you did have a mother. He would show you pictures of her throughout your childhood, telling you bits and pieces of her. It had made your heart ache at the time. That your dad had at least had time with her, and you had nothing to remember her by.

He wasn’t perfect. He tried his best, but you wonder what was worse- never knowing that you had a mother… or knowing that you had her, she left, and then hearing stories from your father about her. 

It didn’t matter, not anymore. You only think of your absent mother fleetingly these days, and it’s been years since you’ve thought of her as anything more than a minor side character in your book.

Once you got the first tattoo, you couldn’t stop. There was a small lion below your heart, because your dad and grandma always called you their lion cub. An arrow on the inside of your wrist. It was an itch, a craving that you could never quite satisfy. The desire for fresh ink came and went in waves.

Today is the fifth death anniversary of Appa, and you contemplate whether you should get another tattoo. To celebrate, or mourn really, five years without him.

Ultimately, you decide against it. Instead choosing to continue the tradition of dinner with Grandma and with Seokjin. You and Grandma cooked all of Appa’s favorite foods and desserts on the day of his death anniversary. Jin, as your closest friend and as the person who quite literally picked you up at your lowest, always came every year for Appa’s dinner. 

You think Jin saved you from yourself all those years ago, and you don’t even know if he knows that. And how could he know? If you had never properly voiced it?

Appa’s dinner is usually a quiet, but fun affair. Just the way your dad would have liked it. You and Jin fill the silence with your banter, and Grandma even jumps in, taking sides when neither of you expect it.

Bowls of meat dishes, even seafood (because Jin liked seafood even though you hated it), rice dishes and vegetables were neatly arranged on the table. The flavorful aromas wafts into your nose and your mouth waters. Looking over to Jin, you see the same thoughts reflected on his face and grin at him.

Appa also loved seafood, specifically fish and octopus- both him and Jin would often tease you about how you had no taste. To which you always responded, “I would rather die than eat something that crawls on the ocean floor. You don’t know where it’s been!”

“The same could be said about chicken and beef-”

“I prefer my meat to be a land animal, thanks.”

“Jin,” You say suddenly, “How are your parents? Your sister? I texted her the other day, but I’m sure she’s busy with school...”

“You tell me, Ma told me that you called her the other day,” Jin says wryly, “You probably talk to her more than I do.”

“You should call your parents, Seokjin,” Grandma scolds and Jin gives her a sheepish grin, “Go visit them soon. Your Ma told me she misses you.”

“Oh, fine, everyone can just gang up on me then, I guess,” Jin rolls his eyes, “Next time I go home, you and grandma should come with me. I’ll get scolded by them too if I don’t bring you.”

“Oh, well when you put it that way, you make it sound so enticing, Seokjin,” You scoff, getting up to get a drink, “D’you want soju or wine?”

“Wine,” Grandma chirps.

“Soju,” Seokjin replies.

“I’ll drive you home, Jin. Enjoy yourself,” You wink at him despite his protests.

***

Jin is quiet in the car, his attention undivided to his phone. You don’t mind, but you see his phone lighting up every few seconds. An occasional smile and breathy chuckle leaves his lips as he types away.

You even see a heart emoji or two on the screen.

“Who are you textin’? You got a secret lover or somethin’?” You tease. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t deny you. Instead, the tips of his ears go red and your smile fades.

“Uh,” Jin says, “Not a secret lover… Just a girl that I met a few weeks ago.”

“Oh,” You say, in a strangled voice, “Cool. Awesome. I’m happy for you.”

It hurts you more than it should, that Jin hadn’t told you about the woman he’s been seeing for the last few weeks. He knew it too- your heart and your emotions are always on your sleeve, at least to him. He starts to ask you to come inside so that you can talk, but your face is tightened in hurt, and the words die on his lips.

Your smile was forced when you had dropped him off at his apartment building, ignoring the sudden wave of sadness that tumbled over you. Did he not trust you enough to tell you? Have you been a bad friend to him, that he felt like he couldn’t tell you?

You can’t recall the last time he had intentionally hidden something like that from you. You swallow tears down nervously, wiping your eyes and subtly shaking your head to focus on driving home. 

Maybe you have been a bad friend lately. Have you asked about him enough? Does he know that you cherish him? Memories of the last few weeks replay in your head, wondering if you had done something to push him away.

But before you can leave the curb, Jin is sprinting from the building and towards you like a madman. His cheeks are flushed, eyes wide and hair blowing with the wind. 

In all of your years of friendship, Jin never lets you leave him when he knew you were upset. He knew how your silly mind worked, how if you revelled in your own thoughts you would end up spiraling further and further away from him.

He slides into the passenger seat of the car, not even admonishing you for leaving the doors unlocked after he had left. 

Tears gather in your eyes and you bite your bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“Listen to me,” Jin says, turning to you and holding your face in his hands as if you’ll break, “I didn’t tell you about her because… if I told you about her, it would make it so much more real. I don’t know if me and her are real yet. I can’t introduce you to her yet because I don’t know. And you know I need your approval, otherwise she’s gone.”

He says it lightly, to get you to smile and it works but tears drop from your eyes anyway.

“You could’ve still told me you were seeing someone,” You say in a small voice, “You’ve told me every other time…”

“This time feels different,” Jin admits, “But you’re right. I’m sorry.”

Maybe you’re being too clingy. You scoff out loud, already wanting to curl into yourself and forget about your stupid heart.

“God, I’m so stupid. I’m sorry I freaked out,” You mumble, avoiding his eyes, “I know you’d tell me if it was important.”

“Don’t apologize for me hurting you,” Jin says, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“Have I been a good friend to you, Jin?” You whisper after a beat and Jin’s eyes widen. He feels terrible for making you doubt yourself and doubt your friendship with him.

“What? Of course you’ve been a good friend. What’s going on?” 

“I just- Maybe you didn’t want to tell me because I haven’t been a great friend to you. I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t showed you-”

“Stop,” Jin whispers, “Stop that.”

And that’s so very you, thinking that you had done something to upset him. When really, it was him who actively chose not to tell you out of his own fears. 

You normally don’t really like hugs. Or being touched. Except by Jin. The exception has always been Jin.

“Can I have a hug?” You mumble quietly, looking up at him with red eyes.

Jin coos softly at you, pulling you in tightly to his chest over the console of the car. He rubs your back, waiting for you to calm down as you inhale him in generously.

“If I was upset with you, you know I would tell you. I love you too much to let you get away from me,” Jin murmurs into your ear, “You’re my best friend. When I say that I didn’t tell you because it terrifies me to be in something serious, that’s all it means. Telling you makes it serious, and that’s all it is. Please trust me?”

“I do, I do,” You mumble, face pressed into his purple sweater, “Of course I trust you. It’s my own mind I feel like I can’t trust sometimes. That’s… that’s not a fair reaction to have. It’s not fair...

Jin looks at you for a long moment, and you already know what is going to come out of his mouth. Because it’s something you’ve been thinking about more and more frequently over the past few weeks. 

And because you both seem to almost always be on the same wavelength.

There’s a far away look in his eyes. He waits for you to say something, not wanting to upset you further.

“I think… I think I should see someone. Sometimes I feel like I’m just losing control. It scares me how quick I spiral,” You mumble. Meeting his eyes is difficult for you in your vulnerability, so you just don’t.

Jin yanks you into his chest again and hugs you tight. You’re both silent for a few minutes, your grip on his sweater starting to loosen.

“Hey,” Jin finally says, “I’m proud of you. I’m here for you, and I’ll help you find someone.”

“Jin,” You breathe, shaking your head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Last time we talked about this, we fought so much. We didn’t even talk for like, three days. Which is a record for us,” Jin chuckles, “Of course, I’ll help you.”

You squeeze his hand tightly in gratitude, giving him a tender smile.

“Hey. When you finally do decide that you like this girl,” You say, “Let’s have drinks together. She’s different, I can tell. Haven’t seen you blush at a text like that like… ever. And I want to meet whoever makes you this happy.”

“Yeah,” Jin nods, cheeks reddening at the mention of the woman he likes, “Yes, I’ll coordinate with her-”

“Like, remember that girl you were seeing during our third year? The one who threw up in your shoes, forgot about it, and then blamed it on me? Let’s hope your new girl won’t throw up in your shoes, huh?”

“Shut up,” Jin says and elbow you gently, “You hated her from the beginning.”

“The vibes were just off, Seokjin. You can’t say I didn’t warn you,” You laugh.

Silence falls between you both again, the setting sun pulling you away from your comfortable bubble.

“I should get going. Grandma’s probably wondering what’s taking so long,” You lament and almost shyly give him another hug.

Jin presses a long kiss to your forehead. You’re certain you might combust, you’re not used to being touched like this. Whether it’s platonic or romantic. 

“I mean it,” Jin says, “I’m really proud of you.”

He says it so strongly, so full of conviction and love for you that you’re almost proud of yourself, too.

***

Tonight is a late night with Jungkook and Sana. Namjoon had entrusted the next slate of deliverables to you this week, as he was out of the office for the majority of the week. So, you had straightened your back and got to work, outlining exactly what had to be done for the first workshop taking place in Tokyo in exactly one month.

You booked the conference room, your favorite one with the big projector and the nicer chairs, for the later half of the day. When it began to look like you were going to have to stay late, you told Jungkook and Sana to go home.

But they both vehemently refused to leave you, and that itself brought a small smile to your face.

But Namjoon is still neurotic enough to text you at least twice during the week to see how things are going. At first, you had been startled- hardly anyone ever texts you besides Grandma and Seokjin. But then you relaxed when you realized it was just Namjoon texting you for work.

It had thrown you off when he had continued the conversation, speaking to you as if you were more than coworkers, and as if you were friends.

Jin had looked at you like you had three heads when you voiced your confusion-

“What are you talking about? Namjoon talks about you all the time, he always says how funny you are and how you keep everyone in check at work. He even mentioned those recipes you sent to him. Of course you both are friends,” Jin says, his eyes softening when your lips open in surprise.

You’re rendered to contemplation by that. Had you always been that dense? Not realizing when people liked you?

It was something to discuss at your next appointment with your therapist.

“Your boss is stressing me out,” You joke to Jungkook, “Dude’s on vacation and he’s still worried about work.”

Jungkook freezes, his tongue seemingly stuck in his mouth. You’re looking at him with a disarming smile and he’s just not used to it.

“Uh,” He manages, “I’m still trying to figure out what makes him tick. But I think he’s always had to carry the load for projects, maybe it’s a habit to break…”

“Yeah,” You snort, “Because he’s never had me as a lead on one of his projects. Namjoon’s been cursed with shitty teams before. But not this time.”

“What does that mean?” Sana asks curiously, looking up from her laptop.

“It means that sometimes directors and senior directors don’t know what the hell they’re doing and they don’t know how to strategize,” You say dryly, “The Tokyo team won’t know what hit them. And we’re gonna make our bosses look great.”

The last bit comes out bitterly without it meaning to.

You lean back in your chair and take your blazer off. Jungkook gulps despite himself at the sight of your tanned arms and the brief expanse of your neck. He feels like he’s twenty-one again, shyly watching you speak animatedly to him at your favorite coffee shop. 

The sound of your voice yanks him back to reality and he blinks at you.

“I think we still have just one more thing to finalize…” You murmur, flipping through your notes, “It’s already late, I can finish the rest at home-”

“Wait, I really want to stay, but I can’t- I have to take my dad to an appointment,” Sana says, about to apologize but you hold your hand up to stop her.

“Go then, seriously. You should’ve told me you couldn’t stay late,” You scold lightly, “Work will always be there, Sana. Time won’t.”

You offer her another smile and she smiles nervously back at you.

“Wait, before you go- let me get your phone number,” You murmur, ignoring the way your heartbeat rushes in anticipation.

Your therapist has been helping you get comfortable in your own skin and allow yourself the apparent luxury of leaning on others. You figure that part of that is accepting and seeking friendship from others. You’ve only had several sessions with her, but you feel something after each session.

“Our boss never asked for my phone number when I started,” Sana says dryly when she gives you a missed call and you text her so she has your number.

“Yeah, sometimes I wonder if he even remembers my name,” You say lightly, keeping your face in a warm smile.

Jungkook has never seen you smile so much. Not recently at least. It’s… different. He hates to revel in the past, in the version of you that he knew. But he wonders if he ever really knew you at all. The only thing familiar about you is your smile and your eyes. 

He doesn’t even realize it, but his tongue is poking at the inside of his cheek.

He wonders if you still even have his phone number. He wonders if you’d even ask for it.

“Jungkook, I can finish this at home if you have somewhere to be,” You offer with a shrug and stretch your arms outward. 

“Nah, let’s finish this now,” Jungkook says shortly.

He’s nothing if not a perfectionist.

“Yeah, tomorrow’s Friday anyway. D’you wanna do one last review tomorrow morning and then we can go home early?” You pose it like a question, but really, it’s a demand. 

“Sounds good.”

“Wanna order dinner? Since we’ll be here for a while,” You suggest, already googling takeout options.

Jungkook shrugs noncommittally, instead working to spell check the document you had been working on previously. 

“How do you feel about fried rice? Or… pizza? You used to love pineapple on pizza right?” You ask airily.

Jungkook has whiplash. Again. How can you remember something so insignificant about him and still be such a stranger to him? 

“Yeah, pineapple on pizza is a way of life. Pineapple and jalapeno on pizza, specifically,” Jungkook says, not looking up from his laptop. 

His tongue is poking his cheek again, but you don’t notice. At least, he doesn’t think he does.

“I’ll get a pie of pineapple and jalapeno then. And maybe some garlic bread,” You muse, putting your credit card information into the website.

“Wait, I can pay, too,” Jungkook protests when he sees you whip out your card.

“You can get it next time,” You shrug carelessly and absent-mindedly scratch at your forearms, then your cheek.

Next time? Jungkook barely gives it a second thought, his eyes catching on the smattering of tattoos and the swirl of colors on your wrist. He doesn’t know how he missed it, but it’s not often that he is ever this close to you.

Those are new, and he subtly looks at his own tattoos before sneaking a glance at yours. 

You lean back in your chair, watching what Jungkook is doing on the projector. You pull up several documents on your own laptop to fact check the document. You both develop an easy rhythm of you telling him what to add and him typing away, and you continue like that even as the pizza and garlic bread arrives. You had quickly dipped out and brought the food to the conference room before Jungkook could even protest.

He reads each paragraph after it’s completed, briefly scanning to see if anything more needs to be included.

“Can you check this sentence, on the acquisitions piece? It doesn’t sound accurate…” Jungkook says thoughtfully. The smell of the pizza leaves his mouth watering but he just wants to finish this one last sentence...

You hum in agreement, leaning back further and relaxing your hands behind your head. You feel like your eyes are beginning to cross as an initial wave of hunger passes through you.

“Let’s eat instead,” You announce, standing up abruptly.

You quickly send a text to Grandma, telling her that you’ll already have eaten dinner by the time you get home. You toss a set of plates and napkins to Jungkook, gesturing for him to take as many slices as he wants.

Jungkook watches you inhale three slices of pizza in less than seven minutes, a small spattering of sauce at the corner of your lips. 

“Can’t believe I was ever the type of person to openly hate on pineapple on pizza,” You moan, kicking your legs up onto the chair next to you and looking at Jungkook, “Remember how much shit I used to talk on pineapple on pizza? As if it didn’t belong…”

He does remember. He remembers how you would always make fun of him for it, until he had convinced you to try a slice. And then you had fallen in love. But your hot and cold behavior stings and he doesn’t want to entertain it. Or entertain you. You spent so long acting like you didn’t know him, and now you want to talk about old memories?

Nah. He could be petty, too.

Jungkook shrugs, “Not really. It was a while ago.”

His normally warm, brown eyes are distant, and far away as his glance passes over you and to his laptop. Jungkook turns away from you, his hair nearly covering his eyes and typing rapidly. 

Like he’d rather be anywhere but next to you.

You don’t really blame him, but you ignore the brief, dissipating sting at his sudden coldness.

“Do you have roommates?” You ask abruptly.

“Huh?” Jungkook asks, taken aback by the question.

“Roommates? There’s a lot of extra food and I live with my grandma. She won’t eat this,” You explain, waving to the boxes of food in front of you.

“Oh. Yeah I’ve got a roommate, I’ll take it home,” Jungkook replies.

Your grandmother? 

You nod and swallow to alleviate the sudden dryness of your throat. You both work the remainder of the hour in silence for the most part, occasional questions and thoughts being thrown around as Jungkook types. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Jungkook finally stands up, stretching his legs and his back. You avert your eyes when his baby blue dress shirt rides up a little as he stretches his arms. You catch the inky trails on his forearm (his sleeves are pulled up at the elbow) and his fingers and you wonder, not for the first time, how this was the boy you knew all those years ago.

All those years ago. The words, the memories that you’ve somehow forced into a box have slowly been unfurling. The mental block that you’ve had over your time in graduate school is linked to memories of your dad getting sick and passing away. You’re not dense- you know why you avoid Jungkook, at the heart of it. Seeing him that first day reminded you so much of when you were happy.

Your therapist put it in words when you couldn’t. It’s quite embarrassing you think, how much Jungkook has come up during your therapy sessions. The appearance of him also brought on seemingly unwanted memories of your father. It makes sense.

“We’re done,” Jungkook exhales, rubbing a hand over his face, “We’ll look over it tomorrow with Sana and send it to Namjoon.”

“Yeah,” You say a little breathlessly, “Thanks, Jungkook. For… for everything, I guess.”

His eyes are wide, doe-like and familiar.

“Thanks for the food,” He grins, flashing you his bunny smile.

“It’s on you next time,” You say easily, packing your things up and slinging your blazer over your shoulder.

You don’t care. You know that your boss and other men in general have looked at you in offense when you show skin. But you don’t care. What did it matter, at the end of the day? 

Even if Jungkook is annoyed at you for whatever reason, you don’t miss the way his eyes rake over your body. At least you’ve got him there, even if he can’t stand the sight of you.

You elicit a laugh from yourself that Jungkook doesn’t hear.

You both walk in silence to your respective cars. Before you part ways, you dig some courage out from your spine and ignore the way your hands tremble-

“Hey,” You call softly, “I-uh- still have your phone number. Don’t flatter yourself-” When you see him grin confidently at you, “I’ll start a group chat with us and Namjoon. And umm… Great work today. I’m glad we’re on the same team.”

You visibly cringe. You’re going soft.

“I knew it, you’re obsessed with me,” Jungkook teases and you can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips.

“It’s only ‘cause I kept forgetting to delete your number,” You shoot back, without any real heat behind your words.

Jungkook smiles warmly at you, teeth on full display and eyes sparkling and god, you never want him to look at you with emptiness in his eyes ever again.

***

You look, simply put, like shit. Despite the concealer you had dabbed to your undereyes, you feel every bit as exhausted as you look. 

But nobody picks up on it, except for you. Your lipstick is meticulous as it always is, not even a single hair is out of place and your outfit is crisp. Despite the misery coursing through your veins, you still have an image to upkeep.

Fake it till you make it, as you’ve always said.

You’re currently in a half day team meeting with your submissions team and your respective bosses. Today is not the day to be tired. And yet, you’re on your second cup of coffee and it’s not even 11 AM yet.

It’s been a rough few weeks since the last late night planning session you had with Jungkook and Sana. Therapy has been getting harder and more frustrating to work through- your therapist, Dr. Lee, is asking you questions that you genuinely don’t want to answer. 

Your session a few weeks ago had ended with you being a smartass and avoiding every single question. And she took all of it. She was truly an angel, you think. And then you decide to give it a chance, give her at least an inch.

She asks you about graduate school. Why you don’t want to talk about it. Why Jungkook sets you off, why the mention of your former mentee sent you into a frenzy. She asks you about your dad. About your mom.

She puts the pieces together for you, until you sort of see the fully painted picture. That it’s all connected- school, your dad, why the last five years have felt like a blur to you. Because you’ve been avoiding all of it, and what all of it means.

You feel especially vulnerable and exposed. You’re not used to it- you feel like everyone can see right through you. You feel like everyone can see right through you and see you for the person you are.

You don’t know what’s more terrifying- being seen, or not being seen at all.

It’s two weeks until the first workshop in Tokyo, which is why you’re gathered with Namjoon, Sana and Jungkook and your respective bosses.

You at least straighten your back for this meeting, not wanting to allow room for your boss to criticize you. You don’t think you can handle it, not today. You’re struggling with staying focused, but you try your best.

When you present your portion of the slide deck, outlining exactly what you’ll be doing with the team in Tokyo during the first workshop, your boss cuts you off with a derisive chuckle that makes your blood boil.

“You should put some emotion into it and smile a little. It wouldn’t kill ya,” Your boss says with a smug grin. As if he knows how much it gets under your skin. Which he does, you’re certain of it.

You could take it to HR, you know you could. But you don’t want trouble. You don’t want to be painted as the villain. You wanted to rise above it, but right now, you just want to cry.

“I’ll smile with the Tokyo team, don’t you worry,” You grit your teeth. When I actually have something to smile for.

The air is tense all of a sudden, and it’s your fault. Of course it is. Your boss and Namjoon’s boss look at you as if you have ten heads. Nobody says a word, and you want to scream at all of them. And cry at the same time.

“She’s doing great,” Comes Namjoon’s steady voice from the head of the table.

“Yeah, she put this presentation together. She’s got this in the bag,” Jungkook adds, offering you a small smile. His eyes sparkle at you.

“We’re a great team, you know. It’s really great that you put us together,” Sana says, looking at your boss with acid in her eyes. Not that he can tell.

This time, you really do want to cry. You don’t think anyone at this godforsaken company has ever stuck up for you that way, besides Seokjin. You swallow the tears down and give them a watery smile before continuing on.

You continue on.

***

The first workshop in Tokyo is in two days, and Namjoon wanted to have a little teambuilding night before you all left, just to loosen the nerves. You’re about ten minutes early to the bar, as you usually are to places that you’re invited to. You hate to be late- that was something your Grandma had instilled in you from a young age.

You text her saying you’ve arrived and thank your Uber driver for the ride. Normally, you would’ve just driven, but you know better than to go out for drinks with Jin and think that you’d be okay to drive at the end of the night.

You’re glad Jin will be coming. Seeing your colleagues outside of work unnerves you to no end. So you’re glad that Jin will be there as your buffer. Namjoon had asked him to come, as they were friends outside of work, too.

You grab a booth for the five of you and tap your freshly done nails on the sleek, matte black table. It’s a nice place, you observe. Namjoon has good taste. It’s not often that you come out like this. To bars, and so far outside of your comfort zone. The only time you would ever be seen at a bar was with Jin, and it wasn’t that often to begin with.

You take to admiring your newly painted mint green nails as you text your group chat with Namjoon, Sana and Jungkook letting them know that you’ve arrived. And you send a loud ‘where the hell are you’ text to Jin.

It’s a relatively mild evening, so you had decided to wear your heeled boots, a black flowy top that showcases a peek of the tattoo near your clavicle and dipped generously into your chest tucked into black jeans and you had even done your makeup up more so than what you usually do for work. Grandma had jokingly asked you if she should stay at her friend’s house for the night, in case you were bringing someone home.

To which you had protested and rolled your eyes.

“Look at you,” Jin says loudly, sliding into the booth next to you. He startled you and caused you to jump, “Brought out the lipstick, huh?”

“Shut up, I always wear lipstick at work,” You roll your eyes.

“Red lipstick?” Jin asks with a suspicious arch of his eyebrow.

Okay, fine, that wasn’t as normal. But still, it makes you feel pretty.

“Don’t make fun of me,” You grumble, elbowing him. He laughs and wraps an arm around your shoulders, squeezing tightly.

“I’m not. You look pretty tonight,” Jin says and you give him a beaming smile.

“That implies that I’m not always pretty.”

“You said it, not me.”

“Hey!” You gasp and shove his shoulder. You know he’s only joking, evidenced from the way you both burst out laughing.

“I’m only friends with pretty people, I told you,” Jin says cockily.

“You’re such a dick,” You mutter and roll your eyes for the millionth time already.

Before you can pester him about his mysterious woman that you have yet to meet, Jungkook, Namjoon and Sana eventually trickle in as well. Jungkook waves a quick hello, smile beaming at Jin, and sits across from you. Sana sits next to him and Namjoon sits next to Jin.

You can hardly meet Jungkook’s sparkling eyes, but you force yourself to. He looks good, great even- his hair is soft and wavy over his eyes and he’s dressed in all black. You wonder what the majority of his wardrobe is- is it all black? Does he like bright colors? His lips are dewy and red tinted, as if he had just swiped some cherry chapstick on. The silver of the small hoop on his ears glints in the dimness of the bar. 

Jungkook forces his eyes away from the darkened red curve of your lips, from the swell of your chest and meets your gaze with a smile. The moment is broken when Jin squeezes into you to get you to move over and you nearly shriek at the sudden weight thrown to your side.

“Jin! What’s wrong with you,” You shake your head.

“There’s so much space over there! Move over,” Jin says petulantly, “Namjoon’s basically falling off the seat!”

“You could’ve just said so,” You grumble, “Dumbass.”

You say the last bit under your breath but Jin hears it, and Jungkook does, too. Sana breaks out into laughter, hiding her giggles behind her hand. You shoot her a faux glare that quickly melts into a smile.

“What shall we order, ladies and gentlemen and Jin?” You say, ignoring Jin’s affronted gasp.

“Soju,” Jungkook and Namjoon say at the same time and grin at each other.

“No wonder he’s your boss,” Sana says, earning a chorus of laughs from the table.

“The only question Namjoon asked me during the interview was ‘what’s your favorite alcohol’,” Jungkook says and his eyes flit to you when you laugh.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Namjoon knows how to have a good time,” You wink behind Jin at Namjoon and he winks right back at you.

“I’ll have… blueberry,” Sana says definitively and sees your skeptical glance, “What? Blueberry soju is one of three flavors with rights.”

“Strawberry, peach, and pineapple are the best ones,” You protest.

“Are you kidding? Apple and green grape are the best-”

“Why are you yelling? I’m right.”

“Peach and green grape are the best,” Jungkook chimes in, ignoring the stutter of his heartbeat when you beam at him.

“See? Jungkook has taste-”

“He said green grape, too-”

“But he said peach first-”

The waitress comes and all of you cease your bickering to give her your orders of drinks and snacks. She looks guilty for a minute for interrupting your conversation, but Jin waves her off.

“Don’t feel bad, they’re all idiots,” Jin says, and you shove him on behalf of your colleagues. He rattles off the order to the waitress and she’s on her merry way. 

Once your drinks arrive in the middle of another heated conversation about seafood, Jungkook takes a long swig of his soju to calm his nerves. Specifically, his nerves around you. He’s quiet generally, but he’s not this quiet. He wonders if you remember. If you remember that he dislikes clubs and crowded places, preferring the quiet of a bar or even better- the quiet of home. 

You absently rub the back of your neck, your shirt slipping a little off of your shoulder slightly. And revealing another tattoo, as if it was a present just for his eyes. How many do you have? Are they hidden? Do you keep them hidden on purpose?

He could keep it together around you at work, under the pretense of professionalism. Never offering more than what you offer. If you smile, he’ll smile. If you bark at him, he’ll stay silent. But this is uncharted territory. He can forget about how cold you had been in the beginning, he can forget about how much it hurt. But only if you look at him the way you’re looking at him right now. Only if you look at him with those starry eyes that wrap around him and choke him from inside.

Jungkook doesn’t understand- he doesn’t know you, not really. How is he still this attracted to you? He had chalked it up to the same crush he had when he was twenty-one. But it feels different. And you have no idea. It’ll continue to stay that way, until he can move past it. He deserves better than someone who was as cold and callous as you.

But you weren’t cold or callous, were you? No- the sunburst of a smile on your face says otherwise. The way you rib Jin and try to make sure that everyone feels included in the conversation says otherwise. 

Before he can continue his train of thought, you turn your gaze sharply to him. Your red lips break apart to call his name, and he realizes you’re talking to him.

“Jungkook? Here’s your drink,” You say, passing his peach soju to him, “I got peach, too.”

“Because we have taste,” Jungkook murmurs and you grin.

“Cheers to Tokyo,” Namjoon says, “We’re gonna be great. I’m glad we’re a team-”

“Hey, I’m not on your team,” Jin protests and you elbow him again.

“Shut up, Jin, just let Namjoon toast to us. Not everything’s about you,” You hiss at Jin and he pouts. You tip your bottle to the center to meet Namjoon’s bottle and Jin dramatically follows suit.

“As I was saying,” Namjoon glares at Jin playfully, “We’ve done great work, and I know this team can do anything. I’m glad it’s us. We’re going to knock it out of the park.”

“Cheers, Joon, you’ve been a great team leader,” Sana says with a bright smile.

“Yeah, a little neurotic, but the best leader I’ve ever had,” You wink at him.

“Glad you’re my boss, Namjoon,” Jungkook says, sincerity dripping off of his tongue, “I’m honored to call you my boss.”

Namjoon beams at you all, dimples on full display and eyes shining. You clink bottles eagerly and take a long swig of your drink, meeting Jungkook’s swirling eyes briefly. Once he pulls his bottle away from his mouth, you’re instantly drawn to the wet sheen of his lips and his tongue darting out to swipe over his bottom lip. 

Your cheeks heat up, and has it always been this warm or is it just you? You can’t help yourself, watching Jungkook’s tongue poke out once more and circling his lips again. You itch your chin nervously, out of habit before ripping your eyes away from him.

You pull away immediately when you remember where you are. And who you are. He’s your colleague, nothing more, nothing less.

Nothing more, nothing less.

***

It’s two and a half bottles of soju later, two peach and one green grape that you’re currently nursing, when your cheeks feel hot and you’re certain your words are starting to slur. You can hear the tipsy higher pitch of your voice when you speak.

You haven’t felt tipsy like this in a long time, and the fact that it's in front of your colleagues sets you on edge. You try to stay as quiet as you can so you don’t make a fool of yourself, but you want to engage with them. They don’t feel like just colleagues. They feel like your friends. 

Or they feel like they could be your friends. If you allow them in. Your heart grows fond of the sentiment. The sentiment grows when Sana brings you to the dance floor to dance and sing along to songs with her. The bar has gotten considerably more packed since you had first arrived, and you don’t recall the last time you were surrounded by this many people your age. The lights are dimmed but bright enough that you can see Sana’s bright, happy eyes.

You subconsciously look for Jin, spotting him at the bar with Jungkook and Namjoon. He waves the both of you over and you gesture to Sana.

Jin already has shots lined up for you and Sana but you hesitate.

“I don’t know Jin,” You protest, “I don’t do well with shots…”

Before Jin can tease you and tell you that he’ll take yours for you, you hear Jungkook’s voice on your right side.

“I’ll take yours for you,” Jungkook shrugs, “Since Jin already got them.”

“Oh- uh- thanks,” You say sheepishly.

Your face feels warm again and your heart does a funny thing that you don’t recognize. You shift closer to him to hand him your shot glass, and you lean closer to him without realizing it. The warmth he radiates is intoxicating, more so than the liquor in the shot glass you think. 

Jungkook only spares you a quick glance before throwing the shot glass back easily, as if it was practiced. A glint of a silver necklace around his throat catches your eye, the column of his throat nearly glowing with the dimmed lighting.

“Tequila, Jin? Really?” Jungkook winces, washing the taste down with the drink in his hand.

Jin only shrugs and makes his way over to you and Jungkook, wrapping his arms around both sets of shoulders.

The three of you haven’t been together, not like this, since-

“Feels like old times, huh?” Jin says, lips pursing into a tipsy grin, “We were stupid kids.”

“Now we’re stupid adults,” You laugh, but your laugh fades away quickly at the pensive, somewhat cold look on Jungkook’s face.

“Old times…” Jungkook muses, “It was so long ago. We’re all so different now, huh?”

Even if he’s looking at Jin, you get the feeling he’s talking directly to you.

“A lot of time has gone by, a lot has happened since then,” You reply airily, raring up on the defensive just in case.

Jungkook says nothing, only shifting his gaze to you. The iciness around his brown irises breaks apart slowly, but his jaw is set and his lips pursed in a line.

“Oh, really? A lot happened since then?” Jungkook says, voice leveled. It’s unfamiliar, the uncharacteristic coldness in his voice. You’re only used to his bunny smiles and warmth. Again, that was from years ago. And like he had said- you were all different now.

You say nothing, holding your secrets back with your red lips. You owe him nothing. He’s only a colleague, right? 

Then why does it hurt the way it does?

Jin releases his hold on the both of you, picking up on the sudden tension between you both. There are a thousand things Jungkook wants to say to you, a thousand questions- How have you been? What have you been up to, all these years? Why are you living with your grandma? 

Instead, steel curls in his eyes and ice in his throat.

Jungkook shakes his head, closing his eyes for a second. He knows if he opens his mouth, he’ll end up hurting you. And he can’t do that. But apparently, he can’t just ask you how you’re doing, either.

You don’t really blame him for his sharp tongue.

Jin looks between the two of you with concerned, raised eyebrows, clearly feeling the unspoken tension. You want to melt into the floor so you diffuse the situation the only way you know how.

“I gotta pee, I’ll be back,” You mutter quickly and don’t bother to meet their eyes before making a hasty exit.

Jin already has texted you, asking if everything’s okay. You text him a quick yes before touching up on your lipstick and giving yourself room to breathe. You stay in the bathroom for a few minutes before heading back out and pretending like the look in Jungkook’s eyes isn’t piercing every part of the wall you’ve built up.

You avoid speaking to him directly for the rest of the night, and he avoids you. You can’t help casting glances at him when you think he isn’t looking. You feel like apologizing, but you don’t know why. So you don’t, and you bury it.

But at the end of the night, he tells you to get home safe. And that he’ll see you at the airport on Friday. You reciprocate his sentiments, carefully looking into his irises to make sure that the coldness in his eyes isn’t directed toward you.

Jin pulls you away from the group for a minute-

“Stay the night with me. I don’t like the idea of you being alone with a stranger for thirty minutes in an Uber,” Jin suggests, “And Grandma will kill me if she finds out I let you go home alone.”

“Yeah,” You say faintly, “I’ll text her.”

You and Jin say your goodbyes. Normally, you’d be worried about how the optics of you leaving to go home with Jin looks to your colleagues, but tonight you don’t really feel like caring. You know Namjoon knows of the nature of your friendship with Jin. The rest doesn’t matter.

Jungkook watches you leave with Jin. Namjoon and Sana have already called an Uber together, since they lived in the same apartment complex. Neither of them see Jin drape his jacket over your shoulders. Neither of them see you wrap an arm around Jin’s upper arm and lean your head against it as you walk further and further away.

Neither of them hear his heart ache in this crowded street of Seoul, when his brain was telling him that it had no reason to.

[supernatural-jackles]

The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 13

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 13

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,834

Warnings: High Stress Levels, Mentions of the readers shitty Mom, FLUFF, All around cuteness! 

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: Three parts left after this one! I hope y’all enjoy this part! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Happy Reading!! 

Your head was pounding. Your vision was starting to blur and everything looked the same. You felt like you had been awake for forty eight hours. Your stomach was in knots, your chest was tight. You were beyond exhausted.

 Finals were going to be the absolute death of you.

 You buried your face in your hands, trying your hardest to clear your eyes and make them see one thing instead of eight. You had been at this for hours and nothing was sticking. You needed to pass this final. It was the most important one and you needed a seventy five in order to advance to the class you were taking next semester. You needed to learn the next twenty definitions and the process of seven more things and you literally had no idea how you were going to pull this off.

 “Knock knock,” Dean called out from behind your door. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

 “Come in,” you called out, trying your hardest to sound okay. Your bedroom door opened and Dean walked in. He was wearing his new pyjama pants that Sam had sent him as an early Christmas present. They had presents scattered all over them, and quite frankly they looked cute on him.

 “Hey you,” he greeted you. “Still studying?”

 “More like dying,” you sighed.

 “Nothing’s sticking huh?” he frowned, taking a seat at the end of your bed, giving you a bit of space.

 “Nope,” you shook your head. “I am not going to pass this final at this rate. I’m stressed out, exhausted and all I want to do is sleep for ten years.”

 “Don’t say that, sweetheart. You just need a break,” he suggested. “Why don’t we go make some dinner and pie. I did the groceries so we’ve got some food in the house. I can make you one of my dad’s recipes and after we can make your grandma’s homemade apple pie recipe.”

 “What are we going to make for dinner?” you smiled. “Mac and cheese? Winchester surprise?”

 “I was thinking I could make your favourite chicken with some mac and cheese,” he said with a smirk.

 “You know I can’t resist that,” you squinted at him.

 “I know. That’s why I’m making it. You gotta come out of this room and you’ve gotta eat something that’s not dried cereal or leftover beef jerky from our road trip nearly two months ago.”

 “You’re making me sound like I have a problem,” you giggled.

  “You do. It’s called being overworked,” he chuckled. “Kitchen. Now. Then I need you to watch a short movie with me. Give yourself a break. After that, we can kiss a little and I will help you study for however long tonight,” he declared proudly, looking at you with a sweet smile

 “Okay. We’ll go with your plan, chief,” you said with a weak smile. “You win this time. You had me at kissing you.”

 “Let’s go.”

 The second you got to the kitchen, you felt guilty for not having your books in front of you. The worry of not passing this final was really starting to get to you. You knew Dean was right; that you needed a study break because nothing was going to stick if you kept trying to cram it in. He offered to help you later, and you prayed to god that it would stick in better.

 Dean had the pasta noodles on, and the chicken already in the oven, like he was planning this all along. All that was left was to grate the cheese, and he was already halfway done. You just got to sit there, and watch him do what he did best.

 “When I was little,” you started, glancing up at Dean, “my mom tried to teach me how to bake. Red velvet cookies were what I wanted to make because I saw a picture in a recipe book one day. So she found one that would work and picked out an afternoon to do so. I thought it was going to be fun. You know, spending time with my mom, just the two of us. But I accidentally dropped an egg on the floor, and of course it broke. My mom was furious with me and sent me to my room for destroying her good kitchen floor. All because the egg slipped out of my hand and fell.”

 “That is terrible,” Dean frowned. “Accidents happen all the time.”

 “It was,” you nodded. “She came into my room hours later with a single cookie for me to eat. It was the first time I looked at something and felt like I didn’t deserve it.”

 “Why are you telling me this?” He asked, turning to face you.

 “Because I feel like I don’t deserve you sometimes. Especially on days like today when I’m cranky as hell, and not so fun to be around. You’re here making sure I eat and don’t overwork myself, and I don’t deserve to have someone as great as you in my life.”

 “Yeah you do,” he argued with a smile playing on his lips. “You deserve to have someone looking out for you, Y/N. You do the same for me.”

 “Well, I’m glad I’ve got you,” you smiled.

 “Likewise,” he smiled softly. “When I was growing up, my dad was the one who taught me how to cook. He told me it was a valuable life skill that I would need one day. I was always taught that it wasn’t just a woman’s job to cook for the family. I don’t remember a whole lot of my parents together. I was four when she died. But what I do remember is that they were happy together, and I wanted to have that one day.”

 “Do you still want that?” you asked him.

 “Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ve got you. I know my parents loved each other. Even if I remember them arguing, and such. I asked my dad about her from time to time, and he always talked about her with that same look on his face that he had when he saw her. Their love was something real. That’s what I want.”

 “The real thing,” you teased. “Growing up, my dad was my best friend. He had this big office in our house that no one was allowed in but me. He had a chair in there for me, and a computer there for me to do work at one end of his desk. It was our space that my mom couldn’t enter. It was a safe place for me. His Sunday’s were spent playing golf, away from my mom. Those were supposed to be the days I spent with her but she never wanted to. She had her girlfriends over for drinks and I’d be shoved into my bedroom, away from everyone and everything. My parents never spent any time together when I was growing up. My dad travelled during the week for work. I spent Saturdays with him. The more I think about it now, I wonder why they waited until I was twelve to get divorced. They were never happy together.”

 “That’s not fair to you,” he commented.

 “No it’s not. It’s like some sort of arrangement for them, I think,” you agreed. “You want what your parents had, and I want anything but what my parents have. How strange is that?”

 “Have you ever gotten along with your mom?” Dean questioned as he poured the cheese into the noodles. “I know Ketch said to you at the diner that night that your mom loved him more than she did you. Is that true?”

 “Unfortunately yes,” you shrugged. “And for the longest time, that was so hard for me. I mean, my mom loved my boyfriend more than she loved me, and I was her daughter. God, my mom was more excited when she found out I was going out with Ketch than I was. Sure, his family is the richest, and their house is a million times bigger than this. Ketch literally doesn’t need a college degree for crying out loud. It’s not like we ever struggled with money. I mean my dad still makes amazing money and he bought this house for me so I wouldn’t have to stay with my mom while I went to school.”

 “He’s got connections to everything and your mom liked that huh?”

 “It made her look good. It was good for the parties and for all the people at the country clubs. It’s like he’s fucking royalty or something,” you scoffed. “My mom didn’t want me to go to college at first, actually. That’s one of the reasons why I’m so late in graduating. I fought hard to go, and she would only let me go as far as here. My dad fought for me. He knew I wanted my own life. My mom was determined. A girl like me shouldn’t have to work hard for one. The job at the hospital was hard enough work. At one point, she even told me I wasn’t smart enough to get in, which was untrue. It’s just not me. I can’t just sit somewhere and have everything done for me. I’ve never been that way, even if my mom tried to raise me that way. It wasn’t right. I think she thought that Ketch was going to turn me into someone that she’d approve of. A housewife. Someone like her.”

 “I could never see you sitting back and doing nothing,” he chuckled. “You work harder than a lot of people.”

 “Thanks, Dean,” you grinned. “I’m at the point where I’m trying not to care about her. I don’t answer my mom’s texts anymore. Her calls are ignored. I’m done dealing with it all. All it ever does is upset me and I’m tired of putting myself in that position. I gotta move past it all.”

 “Good for you, sweetheart,” he nudged your shoulder. “You graduate in June right?”

 “Maybe! If I pass this final and all my classes next semester, then yes,” you let out a dry laugh.

 “You will,” he reassured you. “You’ll get home tomorrow feeling relieved that it’s over with and that you aced it. I’ll pick up some pizza and beer on the way home, and we’ll celebrate.”

 “And I can pick the movie?” you asked with a wide smile.

 “‘Course you can,” he winked.

 You and Dean ate dinner with a constant flow of conversation. For the first time all day, you felt relaxed, and you knew that was going to do your brain some good. When you were to go back to studying, there was a good chance you were going to retain more than you could before.

 Dean was the first one to finish, and he instantly started on the dishes. You couldn’t help but watch him as he worked. His muscles flexed beneath his shirt every so often. It had been a whole two months since you had slept with him that night, and the morning after. Your feelings had only grown stronger for him. You were taking it slow, enjoying the ride as you went on. Since you already lived together, you kept the sleepovers until Friday and Saturday nights. You didn’t want to rush this and ruin things.  You wanted to still have that friendship between you. It was the most important thing to you.

 You were slowly but surely moving past the whole, not good enough for him thing. There were still days when you felt like you weren’t good enough for him, and that was normal. Most of the time, he was the one who made you feel like you were. He was always making sure you knew that you were doing good, especially in the moments when you felt like you weren’t. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that you weren’t head over heels for him. This had the potential to become what his parents had. This had the potential to be something amazing.

 You got up from the counter, placing your utensils in the sink and your plate on top of his. You reached for the towel, taking the first mug out of the sink, drying it off. Dean gave you a soft smile before returning back to what he was doing. Your heart began to race in your chest.

 You wondered exactly what was going through his mind. If he was thinking about dinner, or anything else in specific. You wondered if he looked at you and thought the same thing you did when you looked at him. If he thought you were beautiful. If he thought he was lucky to have someone like you in his life. It was the little things.  

 There was a part of you that wanted to tell him that you loved him. You knew it wouldn’t be the worst thing to say, especially with how long he had been in your life. But at the same time, you were always the one who expressed how you felt first and that never worked out for you in the end. It was fear this time around. You didn’t want to push it so far only to have it crash and burn in the end. Dean was all you had at this point. You could wait. You could wait a lifetime for him. He was worth it.

 “Pie time?” he chuckled, pulling the apples out of the fridge. A few weeks ago, you had decided to go apple picking one Sunday. He remembered the day you met him that you mentioned something about your grandma’s recipe needing fresh autumn apples. He thought it would be a good date idea for the two of you and it was. It was one of the memories you think about that makes you smile.

 “Pie time,” you nodded.

 You opened up the cupboard, grabbing your book of recipes. Dean was already pulling out everything you needed from the fridge. You stifled your laugh, knowing just how excited he was for this. Quite frankly you were too. He was like a kid when he was excited and you loved that about him.

 He peeled and cut the apples while you made the pie crust. You worked side by side, bumping into one another a few times while you worked. You tried your hardest to focus on the pie in front of you, but when he stood so close, you couldn’t help but look over.

 “You’re cute,” he muttered, taking a slice of apple, bringing it up to his lips.

 “You’re cute,” you smiled, taking a bit of flour before flicking him. The white dust covering part of his shirt and his cheeks.

 “You’re going to pay for that,” he threatened with a laugh, placing his hand in the flour before rubbing your face. “Much better.”

 “Dean!” you shrieked, letting out a laugh. You smirked, inching closer to him, wiping your cheek on his shirt. He gasped, laughing in the process. “Okay, I actually have to finish this if you want to eat this tonight.”

 “Fine,” he grumbled, flicking you once more before getting back to work.

 You managed to get everything ready within half an hour. Dean added a lot of apples into the pie, and extra cinnamon. You smiled when he helped you with the top of the pie, patting it down with you. Your hands brushing against one anothers every so often. He took it when it was done, and put it in the oven for you. You were really looking forward to tasting it after this.

 His hands made their way to your hips, backing you up to the opposite counter until you hit it. He lifted you up quickly, his body settling between your legs before his lips were on yours. His kisses started off slow and soft; chaste. Moving in a perfect sync with yours as his large hands travelled over the length of your back. You melted against him, allowing yourself to enjoy being with him like this. It was really nice to have a boyfriend that wanted to kiss you the way he did on a constant basis.

 “You want to watch a movie, or a few episodes of Dr Sexy? You’re nearly caught up,” he pointed out as he placed a slice of pie on your plate. “Fuck, this pie is amazing.”

 “Dr Sexy!” you stated. “Gotta see if Dr Sexy and Dr Tara get together. I’m glad you like the pie.”

 “I love how into this show you are,” he let out a laugh.

 “This is your fault,” you side eyed him. “I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you.”

 “Hey, this is on you too. I had no idea you had a medical kink,” he winked.

 “So do you, Winchester,” you teased. “You and I both know if I dressed as a nurse, you’d have a field day.”

 “There is no denying that,” he shrugged. “You’d make such a hot nurse.”

 Dean pulled it up on the tv as you sat down in your designated spot. Right next to Dean. It was one of your favourite parts of movie nights. He’d always end up playing with your hair while the movie ended, and you soaked up every second of the attention he was giving you.

 “Can I ask you something?” Dean asked about halfway through the episode.

 “You just did,” you turned to face him with a wide smile. “What’s up?”

 “What’s the plan after you graduate?”

 “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure yet,” you answered. “I have lots of options, and I think that’s what matters the most.”

 “Which one sounds the best?” he questioned.

 “Teacher’s college,” you breathed out. “The one my mom would hate the most.”

 “For that reason?”

 “That’s a bonus,” you chuckled. “But I think I could make a good career as a teacher.”

 “My mom was a kindergarten teacher,” he revealed, giving you a soft smile. “I think that would be an amazing career path for you. You know I’ll support you in anything you want to do.”

 “Thank you,” you smiled. “I have to apply at the end of January, so I still have time. But it’s definitely something I’ve thought about for a little while now.”

 “You’re good at helping people. I’ve learned so many things from you,” he added. “You’d make an amazing teacher.”

 The episode finished, and you needed to get back to studying. You couldn’t relax any longer. You needed to get these last few things down before you could go to bed. You flopped down on your bed, opening up your notebook. Dean was in not long after you with two mugs of peppermint tea. You knew that there was nowhere he’d rather be than here with you, making sure you got this material down.

 It was around midnight when you packed it all up and crawled into bed. Your eyes were drooping, and words started to blend together. You studied the best you could and you felt a million times better than you did earlier. Dean helped you get down the last eighteen definitions and you had memorized the processes you needed to. You have this final in the bag.

 Dean left your room to go lock up the house, something he did nightly for you. You flicked your side light off before curling into your pillow. A few moments later, you felt your bed shift, the comforter moving just a little, before the bed dipped next to you. Dean was sleeping next to you tonight.

 “Gonna sleep with you tonight,” he whispered, linking his pinky with yours.

 “Good,” you muttered. “Night handsome.”

 “Night sweetheart,” he mumbled, reaching over to place a kiss to your forehead.

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

 You walked through the front door with a smile playing on your lips. Friday were the best days. The start of the weekend. The best damn part of the week. You kicked your shoes off, heading straight for the kitchen with your bag in hand. You couldn’t wait to start the weekend off right with the man you loved. 

 “I’m home!” you called out.

 “Hey beautiful,” a familiar voice filled your ears. Your smile only grew wider. Your eyes glanced over to the counter where he stood. The sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong, toned forearms that drove you crazy.

 “Hey sexy,” you winked at him. “How was your day?”

 “Great. Bobby gave me a raise today,” he revealed. “He said I had been working really hard the last few months and it’s paying off.”

 “Dean! That’s amazing,” you grinned widely, dropping your bag to the ground. You circled the counter quickly, reaching Dean in an instant. You stood on your tiptoes, your lips crashing to his, kissing him hard as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I’m so proud of you!”

 “Couldn’t have done it without you,” he smiled, licking his bottom lip. “You’re my rock.”

 “And you’re mine,” you whispered, reaching up to kiss him once more.

 “How was your day, sweetheart?” he asked, tugging you in close to him.

 “Good. No tears today. No parents to call. And it’s Friday,” you chuckled. “Today’s a good day.”

 “How’s our baby girl?” he questioned. His right hand slipped from the small of your back to your growing bump.

 “Why don’t you ask her?”

 Dean kneeled down to your stomach, pressing his lips to the bump. His hand held either side of your stomach. It had to be the best thing you had seen and he did it over and over again. She already had her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger. She was going to be a daddy’s girl for sure. This was exactly what you wanted.

 “Hey baby girl,” he said softly. “You being good for your mom in there? Not kicking her insides too much?”

 “Not today,” you whispered.

 “I love you, peanut,” he muttered, pressing another kiss to your stomach. “And I love you, sweetheart.”

 “Not as much as we love you,” you smiled.

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

 You shot right up, your eyes opening widely. Your heart was pounding in your chest. You swallowed hard, realizing that it was just a dream and it was the middle of the night. Dean was still fast asleep, facing your direction.

 For a moment, it actually felt real. It actually felt like you and Dean were going to end up together, and you were having a baby together. It actually looked like life was looking good for the two of you. God, the way he kissed your stomach. Ugh, and the way he kissed you. It was everything you wanted and more. It was everything you wanted with the person you loved.

 “You okay?” Dean breathed out, shifting a little. He never even opened his eyes.

 “Yeah,” you whispered.

 “Bad dream?” He asked you, popping one eye open.

 “No. Good dream. Best dream I’ve had in awhile. I’m just sad it came to an end,” you admitted.

 “Dr Sexy?”

 “Something better,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

 “What if you forget?” He cocked his eyebrow with his one eye still open.

 “Trust me. I will never forget this dream.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your response is what keeps me sharing stories like this! 

[sunflowers-n-rocknroll]

Do I Wanna Know?

Pairing: Jensen x latina!reader

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 1,988

A/N: This was written for @anaelsbrunette​ Yas’s POC Reader Challenge. This was based on the song Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys. I’ve never written POC reader before so hope you like it. ;)

“Everybody welcome Jensen Ackles to the stage!” The applause and cheering were so loud you winced. Jensen Ackles stood on the stage looking as if he owned it with a leather jacket and some dark jeans. You couldn’t lie he was good looking, but good looking boys were the ones that always knew how to break your heart in the worst ways.

You sighed once again wondering why you had agreed to come to work again. The place was small but packed. Apparently, it was some sort of VIP event and only those with enough money could pay to attend. But not you. You weren’t here to enjoy some guy in a leather jacket and guitar sing you were here to work at the bar and that was it.

People coming and going ordering a million different drinks was slowly driving you insane. You hoped this would be over soon. Someone like Jensen Ackles was probably busy and didn’t even have a moment to breathe.  

Song after song you handed out drinks and refrained from lashing out at the rude people. You needed the job.

“Thanks, everybody for coming out tonight, said Jensen. “I’ll be playing one last song tonight.” 

“Oh, gracias a Dios,” you breathed out a sigh of relief and your friend smirked over at you. 

“Have you got color in your cheeks?

Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the type

That sticks around like summat in your teeth?

Are there some aces up your sleeve?

Have you no idea that you're in deep?

I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week

How many secrets can you keep?

'Cause there's this tune I found

That makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat

Until I fall asleep, spillin' drinks on my settee…”

The women were going wild and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He was just a human, a human with an incredible voice and an equally attractive body. Sure you enjoyed music, but you knew this type of celebrities, they thought they were like gods.  

By the time the song was over, you were ready to go home and sleep preferably forever. The crowd started to diminish and you began cleaning up. 

“Oh my god! Did you see Jensen Ackles he was so hot,” your friend was basically jumping up and down. You were waiting for that comment all night and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Cristina you fall in love with basically everybody.”

“I do not,” she gasped.

“What about that boy at the coffee shop yesterday? Or that guy that opened that door for you at the supermarket? Or that girl-”

“Ok ok fine I get it,” she held her hands up in surrender. “But you can’t deny it.”

“Cristina, there is nothing special about him. Sure he can sing, ¿y que? So what? I know about a dozen other people who can do that.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” said a voice behind you and you turned only to find Jensen Ackles sitting at the bar. “But uh can I get a whiskey?” 

You cleared your throat your face burning. “Uh yeah.” turning to grab a bottle you glared at your friend. “¿Cuánto tiempo ha estado allí?” 

“Since you started talking,” she whispered.

You turned around placing a coaster and glass in front of Jensen Ackles. You tried not to look at him as you poured whiskey into his glass but you felt his gaze on you. Some guys came by saying goodbye to Jensen and making plans for the week. Not that you were eavesdropping but they were right there. 

“It’s close to midnight and my sister is coming to pick me up, you need a ride?”

“No it’s fine I’ll be closing anyway. I’ll get a cab.” She nodded before hugging you and grabbing her things. 

You realized Jensen was still at the bar and you hoped he would leave already so you could go home. He stood placing some money at the bar before leaving. Ten minutes later you were making your way outside.

“Hey,” you turned. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.” Jensen was standing there with his hands raised as if you would’ve tried to hit him. And you would have.

“Well, you did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you said that.”

“I thought you might need a ride.”

“I don’t.”

“Look it’s almost midnight-”

“I am not  sleeping with you.”

“What- no I am not-”

“Listen, pretty boy, I don’t need a ride from you. And I am not going to your place,” you slung your bag over your shoulder before turning around. 

“No, wait. I didn’t mean it like that. I was just offering a ride. Nothing else.”

“Why?”

“Because walking through the city in the middle of the night is dangerous.”

“And getting into some stranger’s car is not?” He looked down, one side of his mouth turning up. 

“Touche.”

You sighed knowing that you couldn’t deny his offer. “Ok fine.”

His head snapped up, “Wait really?”

“Just warning you, I will punch you if you try anything.” 

You gave him your address once in the car and waited for some comment about the area you lived in, but it never came. Surely someone like him had a nice house or apartment in the nicer part of the city. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said.

“So there is nothing special about me?”

You winced, “You heard that?”

He chuckled, “I did.”

“Listen I’m sorry-”

“No no, I think that is a very fair opinion. But, I think you can make it up with a dinner.”

You opened your mouth then closed it not sure what to answer. He was asking you out?

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to I was just-”

“I uh I need to go,” he nodded and you got out of the car. Making your way to your door. You heard his car leave once you were inside. 

“He asked you out!” You and Cristina had a free period a decided to catch up on some homework outside. 

“Cristina stopped screaming. Yes, I already told you like a hundred times.”

“And you said no,” you stared at her. “Okay fine, fine.”

“And technically I didn’t answer.” 

“But it was Jensen Ackles!”

“Yeah, that’s why.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s on his way to becoming some great musician. And I’m a bartender still in school. And still living with my mom. Nada va a suceder. It’s going to be a good date and then that’s it. On to the next thing he knows he can get.”

“Y/N,” she pointed behind you, and standing right there was Jensen Ackles. “I uh gotta go back to class,” she grabbed her things before taking off. Great.

“You uh left this in my car yesterday,” standing up you took your jacket from him.

“Thanks. How did you know I was here?”

“I asked around in the bar.”

“Right.”

No one said anything before you both started talking at the same time. 

“I also didn’t get your name last night.”

“How long have you been there.”

You glanced away, “I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N” 

“Jensen.”

“I know.”

He cleared his throat, “Right.”

“Listen I didn’t mean to be rude with what I just said.”

“Most people want to be with me for the money and fame. I don’t care about any of that.”

“I’m not most people,” you said. “I also don’t care to have my heart broken.”

“One date. One chance. Just- let me show you I’m sincere.” 

“Why? You can literally have anybody you want.”

“But I don’t want anybody. I just- there is something about you that I can’t figure out about you and it’s driving me insane.”

“One chance,” you said.

You were nervous and you weren’t even on the date yet. Cristina had come over to try and calm you down but you were having second thoughts about saying yes. 

“Y/N, mirame, hey look at me. If things go sideways you call me and I’ll pick you up.”

You nodded the knot in your stomach twisting tighter. The doorbell rang and you took a deep breath. Jensen was standing there in a flannel and some jeans and you couldn’t deny he looked good.

“Uh te-te ves hermosa,” he stuttered.

You smiled, “How long did it take you to learn that?”

He looked down rubbing the back of his neck. “All afternoon?”

It was late by the time you came back home, your stomach hurting from laughing too much.

“Gracias, thank you, for the date,” you smiled up at him. He was so close that you could smell his cologne. 

“It was my pleasure.”

“I uh- I better go.”

He cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’ll text you.”

It went like that for a week, Jensen showing up and taking you some place, nothing fancy or expensive but somewhere you could be together. Sometimes he would take you to one of his concerts and even though you teased him about it you enjoyed being there. Everything was good maybe just too good and of course it had to end. 

Coming late home from the bar one night all you wanted to do was sleep, your mom was in the kitchen, phone in hand.

“Hey what’s going on?”

“It’s your abuela, está enferma.”

“She’s sick? Is she going to get better?”

Your mom shook her head, “We have to go back to Mexico.”

Two days later you found yourself packing your bags. You had given your notice at school and at the bar. Cristina had come to say goodbye and it hurt to leave her. You were putting your bags in the car when a familiar car pulled up. Jensen stepping out with a frown on his face. 

“Hey what’s going on?”

“My grandma is sick and we have to go back home. Back to Mexico”

“For how long?”

“No lo sé. Couple of days? Maybe weeks?”

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” He sounded incredulous and you wished this conversation had happened when you were miles away and not be able to see the hurt on his face. 

“Jensen-”

“Y/N you were going to leave for who knows how long and not tell me?”

“I was going to tell you.”

“When? When you were miles away?” He nodded, running a hand down his face. “No, you can’t do that just because you’re scared.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re scared Y/N! You’re scared about this, about what we have!”

“Jensen this was never going to last! This was nice, but we both know you weren’t going to end up with somebody like me and I am not going to end up with somebody like you. Lo siento. I have to go,” you turned getting in the car, trying not to look back. The better he accepted the truth the better it would be for you. By the time you were back in Mexico he would probably already have found somebody else. 

Jensen stood there not knowing what to say or do. She was leaving. She was leaving him. But she felt something for him. He hadn’t just imagined the past week. And it wasn’t just some simple crush that he felt, this went way deeper than that and he had to find out if she felt that same way for him. He saw your friend come out of the house by the time your car was pulling away.

“Cristina it’s Cristina right? Do you know where in Mexico Y/N is staying?” she nodded and he knew what he had to do because she had caught his eye in that bar even before he had ordered that drink. He couldn’t let her go. He had to know, even if the answer wasn’t what he wished for it to be, he had to know. 

TAGS: @akshi8278​

[internalsealpanic]

Radio Silence

Summary: You take Tim with you to a family reunion hoping to monopolize his time. You may have forgotten to tell him a few things. For example, the haunted radio.

masterlist

a/n: I’m sorry for the wait. I forgot that I am no longer used to describing atmosphere. This isn’t my best work but I hope you like it. This was based on my family’s tradition of sitting in the dark on Halloween listening to scary stories on the radio. This is mainly Tim Drake x Filipino!Reader because I realley wanted to try my hand at a bilingual character. You will see misspelling of words in the dialogue. That’s intentional on my part. There will be translations.

“Yes, Nay, he’s the one in the picture,”

“No! It’s the guy with-” You blow out an exasperated breath. You hear Tim snicker behind you and you dedicate half your brain cells to coming up with the best way to kick his ass.  “Yung mukhang Koreano. Yeah. Yeah. Dat one.”

“Yes, he looks more like a white boy. Mistiso.” You explain curtly.

“Yes, he’s smart. I hab standards,” Tim raises a disbelieving brow at you. You stick your tongue out at him but nearly bite it off when your grandmother speaks again.

“What do you mean doubtful?!” Tim looks absolutely delighted. A cheshire smile curling on his lips as he leans back into your couch. You glare at him then at your phone then at the ceiling then past that to glare at whatever god was up there.

“THAT WAS ONE TIME! Justine was an-” You mutter trying to remember the word.  “- an anomaly and you know it!”

“…..”

“Ok der were 2 anomalies!”

“3”

“Ok maybe Tim is the anomaly, but seriously, Nay, he’s fine,” You snarl, the jaggedness of your Gotham accent rearing its head. You wince but do not apologize. This will bite you in the ass later but you didn’t say it. You don’t like the taste of the word.

“No. I mean if you don’t want us to embarrass you at the church social then- Yes, I have been going to church,” You can see Tim rolling his eyes and mouthing liar with a twitch of his lip in the corner of your vision. “No, he’s not the showy type. Nay, I gotta go. The food’s burning,”

“Yes, Nay, I lab you bery mach,” You sigh into the phone letting your grandmother’s lather your tongue cutting into the briskness of your consonants. It held the same euphoria as taking off your shoes after a particularly long day.

“Unless you’re Dick, you can’t burn cereal,” Tim cut in carting you away from your reverie.

“Watch me, Drake,” You huff throwing a pillow at Tim almost making him drop his cereal bowl.

“So, can Gotham survive without Red Robin for a weekend?”

“Shouldn’t you have asked me this before telling your grandma that you’re taking me?”

“I’m just double-checking,”

“How considerate,”

“To be fair, your schedule is already volatile as is,"  You huff snuggling up to him on the couch. It was too cold in Tim’s apartment. You think a rich kid like him could afford to turn up the heat. Though, you aren’t exactly going to complain about an excuse to cuddle him.

Tim doesn’t make a move to push you away. Instead, he wraps his arm around you pulling you closer. This was the type of easy affection you two had become accustomed to. This was also the thing that will make your Schrade even more convincing. "True, but I asked Cass and the others to cover for me. Plus, your grandma sounds like she likes me,”

“Considering you don’t have a criminal record and aren’t currently being investigated, you immediately rocketed to the top of her list,” You answer absentmindedly stirring your cereal and taking a bite.

Tim whips his head to you and gives you a concerned look which you return with a smile full of cereal. He blanches at you, shaking his head and grabbing the remote to unpause the Star Trek episode you two were watching. You both prop your feet up and chew your cereal slowly, not feeling any reason to hurry.

How long has it been since you started? You’re pretty sure it was 1 AM when you started.

As if reading your mind, Tim looks at his phone, winces then turns back to the screen without another word.  You quirk your brow at him but decide that there is some truth to the saying ignorance is bliss.

You were gonna hate yourselves come noon.

 It’s noon, the sun has the audacity to show itself,  and you hate yourself.

You definitely, unequivocally hate yourself.

You groan in the passenger seat, head pressed against the cool window. The faint warmth of the sun glancing off your skin makes the tinges of nausea circling the periphery of your senses come to life. Your stomach does a cartwheel and you think- you’re sure you’re going to throw up but you aren’t gonna do that.

No way in hell are you gonna do that. Not when you’ve finally conned your way into monopolizing Tim’s attention for the weekend.

Ok, yeah, sure it was the result of some miscommunication between you and your cousin who then passed on the miscommunication to the whole goddamn family but that’s just what you call a happy accident.

You blow out a breath, greedily taking in all the coolness of the glass pressed against your skin calling your mind back to your body. You weren’t really good with handling the not sleeping thing.

“You ok?” Tim asked his eyes flickering between you and the alarmingly empty road. There was worry in his eyes whether it was the fact that you looked like shit or the fact that the road you were on looked like the opening to a terrible 80s slasher flick. It was Halloween after all. It would be pretty perfect. Dread licks at your stomach at the thought.

You let the silence lapse. In the corner of your eye, you see Tim’s hand tighten on the steering wheel. You stare at the expanse of farmland stretching to the horizon debating whether to humor his question or to let him stew.

“I’m fine,” You picked the third option.

“You don’t look fine,” Tim deadpans, turning to you.

“Stop looking then-” Tim scowls at you his pouty lips pulling into an angle. You sneer. “-You don’t look too good yourself, Kirk,”

Tim makes an offended noise. You look at Tim, really look at him, for the first time in hours. Tim, as per usual, looked obnoxiously handsome even though he was running on at most 30 minutes of sleep and had eye bags running down his face. Somewhere lost in his contemplative expression was the blindingly obvious hint of self doubt. You’ve seen it tons of times.

You peel yourself away from the cool glass to look Tim in the eyes. Dread swims in the pools of teal looking straight back at you. Tim’s mouth edges between a pout and a frown. You soften, shifting in your seat angling until your body is facing his.

“Whatever it is you’re overthinking it,”

“You don’t even know what I’m thinking!”

“Ay,” You chuckle and shake your head. “Tim, it’s you. You overthink everything. I don’t need to be a mind reader to see that,”

 Tim huffs. Maybe he was overthinking things.

“ ‘sides, I don’t see why you would be nervous 'bout meeting my family,”

Has it occurred to you I want to date you for real at some point? Tim thought a little frustrated.

You laugh when he frowns but instead of teasing him any further. You flick the radio on. Your hackles rise as it crackles to life. A smile flickers on your face when ‘All-star’ comes on. You cry out, a noise of shrill joy filling the air.

“Oh my god” Tim breathes, running his long fingers through his dark hair. “You absolute dork,”

“Kettle. Pot.” You grin.

Tim snorts as you loudly sing along with the radio. Unfortunately for him, your enthusiasm for the song was infectious. Somehow you both managed to miss every beat of the song.

You somehow felt like you were definitely forgetting something.

6 cans of monster and 5 things of 5-hour-energy drink later, you arrived. Tim’s nice-looking car pulls into the dusty gravel driveway of a rather large and old colonial looking house. Seeing the robust form of the large house looming in the distance injected your veins with a stifling source of dread. 

You love your family to bits but sometimes their presence weighed so much. You can feel their words already pecking at you, drawing pit and pieces of your self into frayed fibers. All you can think about were the comments hushed behind palms and the dissecting gaze of dark eyes. Your mouth feels dry and you can already feel your feet pivoting back towards the car.

Tim reaches for your hand, lacing his slender fingers between yours.  He smiles at you squeezing your hand. You can feel him rattling from his own anxiety but his effort steadies you. You grin at him and squeeze back.  

Your teeth click the entire walk up to the large oak doors. Tim squeezes your hand again, his teal eyes sweeping over you with a concerned glint. You furrow your brow and somehow he understands and raises his hand to knock on the door.

The door bursts open. Music and laughter wash over you as hands hurry you into the front hall.

“Nay! Dito na sya! May dalang gwapo!” (Mom, y/n’s here and they brought someone handsome.)

About 20 heads turn to look at you. Tim feels some embarrassment from the attention but that doesn’t last too long as in the space of about 5 seconds, those 20 heads were swarming you both, pulling you into hugs, shaking your hands, and ruffling your hair in varying degrees of force and order.

“Beh, you’ve grown so big” Your aunt coos squishing your face.

“Nena, look at this guy,”

“Tita, he doesn’t have any tattoos,” Your little cousin marveled looking bug-eyed as she lifted Tim’s shirt. You swat her away but take a quick second to subtly admire Tim’s sculpted abs. Your aunt scolds him and your uncle drags you to the main room where more guests were sitting chattering or screaming at a foreign horror movie.   

All the apprehension bundled into your stiff shoulders dissolves like seafoam against the overwhelming warmth of the festivities. The raucous laughter drags the roughness of Gotham away from your tongue. In place of your slow, careful syllables are quick clattering consonants and concise vowels. Your vowels were still elongated and angled to a sharp point unlike the nearly musical words of your cousins but as you said before ‘Gotham has its way of burying itself in your bones’. Tim just never thought about how saliently it showed itself in words. He wonders how his accent (folded, neat, and sterilized) sounds to you. He wonders how dull he sounds to you.

You have teased him about it. You’ve teased him endlessly about the way upper-class Manhattan just rolls off his tongue, how Alfred’s British affectations worm their way into his syllables. What you don’t tell him is how the smooth velvet of his words lull you into a hypnotic state that steals every bit of oxygen from your lungs.  What you can’t make yourself tell him is that you would gladly spend your whole life listening to him read a fucking phone book. 

The festivities were lively and informal. Jokes flying every which way. All alternating between your native tongue. You laugh into your drink, hiding the hesitant curve blunting your infectious smile. Tim nudges you to ask what’s wrong but you simply nudge him back and shake your head as if he had said something funny. Your relatives didn’t seem to notice your demeanor or if they did they left it alone.

Tim decides to leave it alone for now. Instead, he leaned into the flow of conversation. His years of speaking at galas working their magic on your aunts. They bombarded him with questions. Most of which sounded like screening questions at the embassy. You snarled at them more than once to knock it off but Tim shook it off. He knows they’re just worried about you the same way he worried for you. Well, not the same way but it was their way of showing they cared. He lets himself be immersed in the conversation.  It’s more like he tuned into the sweet sound of your laughter but made sure to dedicate enough restraint to not look like a love-sick puppy.

“Tanga!” (MORON!)

“Baliw!” (Crazy!)

“E gago ka pala, di ba halata yun?” (No shit sherlock, isn’t it obvious?)

Tim is at best confused as he watches the volley of words between you and your cousin. Your voices rising above the blaring karaoke. Anthony (?) clamps a hand on his shoulder and laughs as he watches you and Martin (?) hurl insults at each other. In the corner of your eye, you watch his reactions checking if he understood a word. He isn’t fluent but he understood bits and pieces. He’s heard you mutter angrily about customers enough times to distinguish an insult. 

“Dun worry about 'em. They won’t fight. They’re stupid but they’re not that stupid. ‘Sides, they’re too afraid of Nay for that,”

Tim gives Anthony a doubtful look. Anthony chuckles at him, clapping him on the back urging him to keep watching. He does if only to make sure you’ll be alright. When he does, he tunes into your words. Tim marvels at how musical you sound as you trade another round of rapid-fire jabs with Martin, how at ease you seem. Tim makes a mental note to get you to teach him. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure how he would justify it.  Admittedly, part of it was just wanting to spend more time with you.

He can probably swing it.

A surge of protectiveness crowds his veins when Martin grabs at you but his hand is swatted by a cane. The air crackles with a sharp snap. The room plunges into silence.  A small woman with silver hair stands tall and imperious at the other end of the cane. You and your cousins stiffen.

“Hi Nay,” You trail off with a distinct lack of grace. You swallow the lump forming your throat, robbed of any coherent thought by the stinging look in her eyes. You felt bare under her gaze. Layers and layers of skin peeling beneath the weight of her attention. Fury flickers like firelight across her dark eyes. Your skin suddenly felt like lint and you were sure you would catch fire.

A pause.

A bated breath held for what felt like an eternity.

“Iha(Iho), It’s been so long,” She says, softening. Her wrinkled face stretches into a kind smile that made you think of freshly cooked vegetables.  Her cane folding to her side as she loops her arm over your shoulders. “It’s nays to see you,”

A choked sound comes out of you and you feel something shake loose. “Missed you too, Nay,” You breathed. Tim feels awkward, fidgeting in his place.  

The soft smile on your grandmother fades a little. Her sharp eyes appraising Tim. The look wasn’t particularly venomous, but it left Tim feeling like he’d been cut open and analyzed. He wasn’t entirely sure of why you were all so scared of her before but now he fully understood.

She relinquishes her grip on you and urges you to go back to Tim. You frown a little, giving her a suspicious look which she returns innocently.  You let out a little breath before walking back to Tim’s side. She gives him another long once over before silently strolling away. His stomach churned but eased at your touch. You still look uneasy but you don’t fuss over it. Not when Martin decides that he wasn’t quite done with bickering.

 The festivities went on as normal. Maybe with a little less cussing going around. But Tim barely noticed when your laugh, free of any hesitance, echoed sonorously in his ear as he held you close. 

Roz presses a drink into his hand. “Congrats, you’ve survived round one of Nay’s hazing,”

“Round one?” Tim hiccups into his drink. He coughed. The beer was strong. A strangely potent amount of alcohol that made his throat burn.

“Yeah, Roz, that was more like round 2.” You mutter sullenly, distinctly taking no sips of the drink Roz had also handed you. The paranoid Bat-part of his brain screams that he’s been poisoned. He’s struggling not to let it win over but your conversation wasn’t helping.

“Nay will eat him alive,”

“I mean. She’ll do it nicely,”

“Pfffft, right! Ok, Tony, name one time she’s been nice.”

“How about-”

“The thing with Y/n earlier doesn’t count,”

“Why not?”

“There was a hidden agenda,”

“Oh shit! The bitch is right- Ow! You are!”

You look at Tim apologetically and squeeze his hand. Somehow this does not calm his nerves, but he tries his best to ease into his touch.

 On the trip here, you warned him that it was going to be exhausting. He assumed, incorrectly, that you were exaggerating. After all, he’s survived snobby rich people and his family. Your family seemed nice. He can survive a nice family dinner.

But what you neglected to tell him was that it would be sheer chaos.  He definitely wasn’t prepared for the sensory overload.  The house was almost unbearably loud compared to the manor. Every corner was filled with people chattering, playing games,  eating, and doing anything to entertain themselves. Sure, Tim was used to chaos but he was more accustomed to short bursts. He wasn’t quite as prepared for the seemingly endless stream of conversations and liquor.

You had definitely not prepared his poor unassuming introverted ass well enough. Not even halfway through the night, Tim was ready to crash. The 20 minutes of sleep he got beforehand had not helped. 

You, the angel that you are, guide him away from the party. You drag yourselves down the wide yawning corridor to the grand staircase.

Lit only by the thin veil of moonlight, the house showed its age. Walking up the stairs and walking through its hallways was like falling through time. The halls were lined with paintings, all landscapes and still-lifes. He’s thankful for that small mercy. His head swimming in liquor, he is reminded of the portraits at Wayne Manor and how their eyes burned at you as you passed.

The lack of portraits doesn’t make the house any less creepy mind you. Religious fixtures line the halls, crucifixes affixed to every arch-like mistletoes. There were doll-like statues of hollow-eyed saints at every corner table. It might have been the dancing moonlight but Tim swore he saw one of them move. Tim suddenly wishes he hadn’t ingested so much liquor.

Before long, you make your way to a bedroom. How the hell you knew which one to put him in was anyone’s guess. You lead him into the room. Touch gentle and careful as you coaxed him in. Soft jazzy music echoing hauntingly. The dancing moonlight and the solid shadows of the room highlighting your gorgeous features, drawing his attention to your plush lips. You lean over him to make sure he was indeed still part of the living. Liquid courage surging in his face, he presses his lips to yours. It’s cautious. He gently runs his hand through your hair, pulling you towards him with a push. The press of his lips is restrained, more of a question than a demand. Slightly chapped lips press against your sweet and searching.

Tim remembers the warm press of your lips, the way the pads of fingers trail against the soft fabric of his shirt, your warm breath fanning against his cool skin, then nothing.

Knock

Knock

KNOCK

Tim grouses into his pillow. Tim was having an absolutely wonderful dream. He could still feel your warm lips against his.  Tim squeezes his eyes trying to go back to sleep.

Knock

KNOCK

KNOCK

‘1 AM’ the antique analog clock at the nightstand reads.

“I’m up!” He lies burying himself further into the thick sheets.

His brothers really needed to stop breaking into his apartment at 1-

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

Tim nearly falls out of bed when he remembers where he is. He jams a shirt over his head and some sweatpants before stumbling to the door.

“Hey Tim, you coming?” Anthony asks through the crack of the door.

Tim opens the door a little wider. “Where?”

“Outside,” Roz shrugs vaguely.

 “Whe-”

You step out of your room, extremely hesitant. Your knuckles were turning white from apprehension. You look at Tim, surprise plain in your eyes. You flinch heat rising to your cheeks. Tim remembers the texture of your soft lips. He wishes that wasn’t a dream. You glare at your cousins who give you a confused look. 

“Roz, he-”

“Awwww, ‘insan, you’re actually coming?” Martin mocks clapping you on the shoulder drawing, what Tim considers, an adorable squeak from you. His heart almost leaps from his chest when your warm body presses further into Tim’s side. You can’t hear it but Tim’s breath stutters in his chest.  He loops his arm around you protectively. Martin gives both of you a sly conspiratorial look.

You scowl at Martin. Glaring with as much intensity and intimidation your burning cheeks would allow. Roz swats him over the head making him almost topple down the steps before Anthony even gets a chance to rebuke him. Instead, Anthony turns to you, brows furrowed. “You sure you want to come? Nay said-”

“La a!” Martin protested. Roz rolls her eyes and swats him again. “Dipshit’s right. Nay didn’t say jack,”

“Then why did you swat me?”

“E, I felt like it e,”

“Bish, whose side are you on?!” He snarls but before he can lunge at Roz, Anthony is already dragging him by the scruff of his neck.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh! Not so loud. The kids will hear us,”

“I for one will not help you wrangle tita’s crotch gremlins,”

“We’re going to be late and Nay is going to unleash hell upon us,”

Anxiously, you tug at Tim urging him to follow your cousins as they filed out through the back door.

 “Where are we going?” Tim hisses.

All four of you share a look.

“We’ll explain,” You promise.

 The journey was eerie. Punctuated by the fact that none of you explain jack. The walk was entirely silent, devoid of bickering or any sort of conversation. He can see the silence driving both Roz and Anthony mad. You honestly look like you’re going to keel over. The odd thing was that even the birds were silent. Not a single sound penetrated the thick canopy of juniper trees.

You wonder the woods guided only by the thin ribbons of silver light peaking through the thick clouds of leaves. Tim can feel your pulse as it thundered in your chest. No matter what was going on he would keep you safe.

You arrive in front of a rusted gate half a foot shorter than Tim. It was small, easily climbable with plenty of spiraling pieces to stick your foot into for purchase if needed. Your eyes cut to Roz who fished out a key he’d seen perched on one of the coat racks.  Hesitantly, you held your hand out for the key. Roz, on the other hand, all but slammed it into your hand, grinning in a mix of absolute glee and relief. Your teeth click as you worked the lock. He wants to suggest just going over it but you seem quite adamant and he wasn’t about to push your nerves.

Finally, the lock gives in.

You all file in one at a time in a sort of practiced motion. Beyond the gates was a path with its stones polished from a shine from use. The scarce light coming from the canopy of trees rippling against them. It lit the rest of the way still keeping the surroundings in deep shadow.

The path ended in front of a small dilapidated stone structure that seemed too small to house anything.

“Age before beauty,” Martin jeers, bending down dramatically urging Roz to go in. She, in turn, shoves him in with a swift kick. The dark interior of the structure swallows him whole. Her dark eyes cut to you. You swallow but ultimately you shrug off Tim’s hold and relinquish your death grip on Tim’s arm. You let out a shaky breath as you step over the threshold. Just like Martin before you, the shadows leave no trace of you.

Tim reaches for the last bit of your swaying blanket. Roz taking the chance shoves Tim over the threshold, his vision goes pitch black.

“See you there, lover boy~”

The darkness is all-encompassing making his eyes completely useless as much as he tries to adjust them. Instead, he strains all of his other senses. He feels the press of moss-covered walls closing in on him. The staircase only seemed wide enough to let one person pass at a time. The stairs wind in shallow predictable patterns. The scent of moss and burning firewood grew heavy as he made his descent. Distantly, he could hear the soft padding of your shoes against the stone but he also heard the crackle of jazzy music. It was the kind he only heard from the old black and white movies Bruce and Alfred watched. It was oddly familiar but he couldn’t place it. The smooth baritone of the singer rattles in his head. A shiver of mild discomfort travels up his spine.

After what feels like an eternity, Tim emerges. His eyes slamming shut from the sudden brightness of his surroundings. He blinks, eyes adjusting to the light. His eyes take in his surroundings.

He was in a clearing. It was man-made, constructed using the same stones that lined the path you’d taken. The stone walls were covered in moss and ivy, but the stone that did peak out reflected the moonlight freely raining drown from the clear autumn sky. In the center of the space, sit 9 people including yourself. All cast in the warm glow of the crackling bonfire. It is a living thing, raging and casting shadows sharpening and obscuring features.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Timothy,” Your grandmother calls out as she fiddles with the nobs of the old radio perched in her lap. It crackles uncooperatively despite her efforts. He can’t pry his eyes away from it even as he takes his seat next to your shivering form.

Without much thought, Tim pulls you close. You tremble, teeth still clicking eyes wild and fixed on the radio. The radio is a curious thing. It’s an old model. It’s sleek but dotted with various nobs and switches. If he had to guess, it was something out of the 1960s. In the periphery of his senses, he hears Roz and Anthony step out of the staircase and take their places in the circle with Roz sitting right next to your grandmother.

Your grandmother stops fiddling with the radio then turns to Roz who is now comfortably seated. Your teeth chatter and your shoulder hitch as they silently converse. Roz inhales then exhales. Her dark eyes sweep over all of you making sure she had your attention. Based on the silence and the still forms, she did. She sits a little straighter, her shoulders rolling back.

She throws herself into a tale. It was a story she’d heard long ago about a man, a house, and a secret. Her calm voice carries over the soft roaring of the bonfire. It wasn’t the scariest tale Tim had heard but Roz told it well. Well enough to draw squeaks from several people including yourself.

Tim relaxes catching on to the turn of events. He lets you press into his side as you make your feeble attempt to get away from the story. Tim chuckles at the amount of theatrics you’ve all put into building up to this little gathering. However, all his smug skepticism vanishes when Roz finishes her story.

The static from the radio vanishes. Its various nobs move without assistance and its switches click into place.  The same baritone voice carries from the radio. Tim doesn’t hear what it says as his mind reels. He turns to you and opens his mouth to ask but Anthony begins his tale before Tim can even formulate his question. Beside him, you fidget with his sleeve shaking hands clenching and unclenching on the fabric.

Tim remembers how much you hate ghost stories. You’d once gotten sick with a fever just from watching horror movies. At this point, you were on the verge of tears. Your breathing slowed abnormally as Martin finished his story. The radio predictably did not whirr to life after his story. Through your chattering teeth, you give your cousin a vicious smile which he volleys by sticking his tongue out petulantly.

It’s your turn.

You squeeze Tim’s hand twice before worming out of his grasp. You flutter your long lashes, lightcatching in them looking golden as the fire flickered urging you to delve into your story. You roll your shoulders and let your blanket and apprehension slide away in one smooth action.

You tell your story.

 Your countenance still and grave as you tell a story of crossroads and terrible choices.

The radio huffs, seemingly amused by your effort.

“Well, y/n,” The radio coos. Your name drips like molasses from its speakers. It’s unsettling how crisp it sounds. Its voice absent of static as it addresses you. “You sure do know about bad choices. I believe so does that young thing- Pardon me. Young things swimming in the harbor. They’re just a tinsy bit cut up about it.” The radio teases almost sounding gleeful. You nod gravely, stomach reaching the floor.

Harbor?

You settle back down into your seat. Tim nudges you, cocking his head to the side to question you. Your fist clenches and unclenches in your lap before you look him in the eyes again.

“Case,” You mouth silently.

It clicks.

The harbor.

 The bodies.

That’s what the radio meant.

Someone clears their throat urging Tim to tell a story. He stumbles through a half-remembered urban legend he heard from Steph awhile ago. His mind far too preoccupied with the new information to really devote to any theatrics.

 His turn passes.

And the stories continue as he mulls over the information.

It’s your grandmother’s turn. Your hand grips Tim’s arms white-knuckled. You attempt to swallow down the fear but it catches in your throat constricting your airway. The flames dance casting her face in sinister shadows that bring out all the sharp angles in her features. Her smile curls cruel. Her bony fingers trace the seems and delicate patterns embossed on the old radio. Static erupts loud then dies down just as quickly. Her smokey voice fills the air. Heavy and commanding. The story spills from her lips smooth and velvety slick with gore and unspoken horrors. None of you dare to speak. Some don’t even breathe. Your hands scrabble for purchase on Tim’s shirt as you bury your face in his chest. You feel him wrap himself around you shielding you the best he can. Ear pressed to his chest, you can hear Tim’s pulse hammering. The terror soaking through to his bones. He remains steady. Unflinching even as the story reaches its climax.

The flames flash, fade, then flicker.  

The radio crackles.

The smooth baritone of its voice distorting into something undeniably inhuman.

Shadows dance.

Their hands reaching out as the flames did. A hard yank from one of them nearly topples you out of Tim’s arms.  He shifts you both away from their grasp. He glares fiercely at them making sure you’re safe.

Sorrowful moans fill the air but your grandmother is undeterred.

With a shrill cry from the radio, everything dies down.

The shadows retreat.

The fire simmers down now small and tame.

Everyone lets out a breath. Both of you could feel everyone unfurl. Tense muscles, locked jaws, tight chests all loosen with the end of the story.

For a long moment, the entire circle is still. Then your grandmother stands up. The rest follow her in a mostly quiet procession up the steps.

“Roddy was harsh this year,” Martin whines.

“Nope, you’re just terrible at it. I mean hell even y/n got an answer. It was creepy as all shit but they got an answer,”

“Uh- Is it a good time to ask what just happened?”

Your cousins turn to you.

“You really didn’t tell him anything, did you?”

“How do you propose I bring up the demonic radio?”

“Pffft,”

“Pirst, it isn’t demonic. Do you really think Nay would have kept it if it was?”

“She lets Martin hang around,”

“…….”

“Dis is a good point,”

“HEY”

Tim clears his throat.

“Raaayt, Ok so… once a year we tell the spooky radio stories so we can get answers or our future told,”

“Was the whole creepy walk necessary?”

“Nope,” You answer in chorus.

“It’s just our way of psyching up for it,”

“It’s your guy’s way. Tita at least let’s me hum songs,”

“Well excuse me for not wanting to listen to you sing,”

“Is there anything else you guys want to tell me?”

“Aside from y/n really not wanting to tell-”

You snarl at your cousins, red-faced and bearing your teeth. Martin and Roz cackle as they run. Anthony has the decency to at least look slightly apologetic as he runs.

“Y/n… What aren’t you telling me?”

“Tim, I- I’m- Damn it- I-” You put your hands on your face. You try to calm your breaths. “Look Tim, I-”You take another breath. “I’m sorry. I kissed you but you were drunk-”

“Wait that wasn’t a dream?” There’s a flicker in Tim’s chest.

You look at him mortified. You want the ground to swallow you whole. “Yeah, I- Tim, I know it’s- I’m sorry.”

He remains silent.

Your stomach feels like it’s going to burn up.

“I-”

“I want a redo,”

“A what?”

“A redo,” 

a/n: I will rework the ending at some point but thank you for reading! 

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