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aliwritesfic · 3 years

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The Night Shift part 11 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

WC: 3.3k

AN: Yall I'm so sorry this took ages to be updated, my laptop screen broke and the repair place had to wait over a week for a new one, I hope the end of this part makes up for it <3 Parts will also be slower to come out as I'm starting my next semester of uni on Monday and that's going to take up a large chunk of my time, but I'm still going to try and put out a new part at least once a week

Spotify

Part 1 Part 12 (coming soon) Masterlist

Friday arrived far too quickly for Frankie’s liking. So quickly he had gotten himself into a routine of being with you, and it felt like it was being ripped away from him. Of course, he knew that it would happen, he hadn’t deluded himself into thinking it wouldn’t, but still . . . still he had grown so used to your presence that when it was finally time to “get your shit from that ugly ass motherfucker” (Will’s words, not his), he felt almost depressed.

You were perched on his couch when he woke up late Friday morning, a cup of steaming coffee clutched in your hand, your gaze fixed absently on a point on the wall. He called your name gently, not wanting to scare you. You blinked a couple times, as if coming out of a trance. He knew the look well.

“Didn’t sleep?” he poured himself a cup and sat down next to you. You shook your head.

“Not great. I think an hour, maybe. But like, really shitty sleep.”

“Not fully asleep but not fully awake?” Frankie suggested, having become very accustomed to the feeling during his military time. You nodded, giving him a tired smile. He understood your exhaustion. You had spent every waking moment stressed about the move, online shopping to replace the things that you were leaving at Kurt’s, and then stressing some more. You had picked up the keys on Wednesday and Frankie had gone with you to check the place out.

It was a bright, airy place, seven floors up with huge windows and a tiny balcony off the living area. Frankie had noticed your eyes shining as you took it all in, almost like you couldn’t believe it was yours. You had wiped away a tear, taking in the view of the lake by the apartment complex.

Frankie had come with his measuring tape and notebook from his mechanic days. He measured each room, each alcove where a piece of furniture would sit, and wrote them down diligently with a messy scrawl on a page labelled with your name.

When you had gotten back to his place, you set to work writing down a list of what was yours and what you needed to replace. At the top of that list was a bed, heavily underlined and circled.

“The bed’s mine, technically,” you explained as you clicked on a display photo of a wrought iron bed frame, “but he can keep it. I want a fresh start, and I think I need a new bed to do that.”

“Makes sense,” Frankie said sitting down beside you, “is that the one you’re going with?”

You had nodded, clicking add to cart. The store had next day delivery, and for a small fee would even build the bed for you. You opted for this, despite Frankie’s protests.

“Please, you’re doing so much already, and putting my whole bed together for me . . . it feels like a very unfair trade,” you told him firmly. Once again, your stubbornness had won over. Frankie, rather grudgingly, had to admit to himself that the delivery people were much quicker than he would’ve been at assembling the bed frame, especially after he had taken a quick look at the instructions.

He wasn’t about to tell you that though.

It was almost midday when a knock sounded on his door, followed by the three men he called brothers piling into his kitchen. You emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed and a shy smile on your face. It struck Frankie that this was the first time you were meeting these guys, truly meeting them without the inclusion of alcohol.

“You’re all really excellent for helping me with this,” you said fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. You had opted for long sleeves throughout the whole week. “Sorry you have to give up your Friday for this.”

Benny was the first one to make a move. He strode forward and enveloped you in a tight hug. Frankie could see the initial shock on your face before it was replaced by a hesitant kind of happiness.

“You like Taylor Swift?” he asked, and you nodded. Benny craned his neck to look at Frankie. “She’s riding with me, if that’s okay?” he turned back to you and you nodded again. Benny grinned and whispered something in your ear, causing you to snort out a laugh.

Santi stood beside Frankie and pressed an envelope into his hands.

“The photo,” he explained. “Again, remember I have several copies, so if you plan on destroying this one, imagine it like a hydra.” Frankie rolled his eyes and put the envelope in his back pocket. You were too busy chatting with Benny and Will to notice, and he was glad. He wanted to surprise you with the photo when you needed it.

Benny and Will had taken a particular soft spot for you since Frankie gave them the bare-bones rundown of how Kurt had treated you. Frankie noticed it now, in how Will stood like your own personal bodyguard, in how Benny had slung his arm around your shoulders, like you were old friends. Frankie felt the briefest flash of jealousy before he stamped it down. Just because he couldn’t – wouldn’t – touch you, didn’t mean no one else could.

“Quit staring Fish, you look like one of those cartoon characters whose eyes turn to hearts,” Santi muttered, elbowing Frankie in the ribs. Frankie elbowed him back, annoyed.

“Alright, gang! Let’s get this show on the road!” Will clapped his hands together. Benny raised an incredulous brow at his brother.

“What are you, fifty?” He turned to you, linking his arm through yours. “Don’t worry, Fish, I’ll drive extra carefully.”

Frankie felt envious of Benny then, even though he had basically had a week straight with you. But knowing it was coming to an end, that tonight you’d be sleeping at your own place, instead of just down the hall. Well, it made him almost sad. He pushed that aside though and forced himself to be happy for you.

As he drove to your old apartment, everyone else following behind, he focused a little too hard on the radio, just to give his mind something to do. A newsreader was talking about how a quick-thinking pilot had landed a plane in a field after something went horrifically wrong with the engines. Zero casualties, minor injuries. People were already calling for the pilot to be given a medal.

Maybe I should renew my licence, Frankie thought. He didn’t want to be a commercial pilot, or a hero of any kind, although the uniforms were nice. But it couldn’t hurt to have it.

He pulled up outside the building, gripping the steering wheel tightly. This was it.

Will and Santi parked behind him, but Benny’s ridiculously lifted pickup was nowhere to be seen. Frankie squinted towards the end of the street, knowing he couldn’t have gotten lost. He had you with him.

Ten minutes passed with no sign of you. “Where the fuck are they?” Frankie grumbled, now worried that you and Benny had gotten into a car accident. He trusted him, but Benny was the worst driver of all of them. He pulled out his phone to text you but was interrupted.

“That’s his truck,” Will said, pointing to the end of the street, where Benny’s truck had just pulled in. The sound of heavy bass reached them before the truck did. As Benny pulled up outside the apartment, Frankie recognised the song as Gimme More by Britney Spears.

“Sorry we’re late,” you called, clambering out of the truck, a tall plastic cup in your hand. “We stopped for frappes.” Benny sipped innocently at his, giving Frankie a look that said he needed to speak with him.

“Where’s my fuckin’ frappe,” Santi grumbled, looking envious. Benny grinned and handed his over to Santi for a sip.

You stood, looking up at the building, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Guess we better go up. I sent him a text telling him I was doing this today, but he didn’t reply, so I don’t know if he’ll be here.”

“Want us to jump him if he is?” Benny offered, but you shook your head.

“Not right away,” you said, “but if he starts up maybe slap him around a little.” Frankie knew you were joking, but the look in your eyes was one of fear. He took your hand gently and lowered his head to talk to you.

“You can wait out here if you want,” he murmured, “we’ve got the list of what we need to get.” You squeezed his hand and shook your head. Yours was cold and slightly clammy in his own, but he didn’t mind.

“No, I need to do this.” You said. Frankie nodded, understanding. You didn’t need to explain the nitty gritty of your reasoning, all he needed was for you to know that you had him, in whatever way you needed.

You kept a firm grip on his hand as you lead the way upstairs to your old apartment, only letting go when you stood outside the front door, fumbling in your bag for your keys.

At first, the apartment seemed empty of life. All the lights were off, the curtains closed, and the place was eerily silent. You stepped over the threshold, followed by the rest of the boys, who immediately got to work.

As it turned out, Kurt wasn’t there. He remained gone for a good half hour while the boys carried your heavier shit down to their trucks. You set to work stuffing the rest of your clothes into plastic trash bags you had picked up from the grocery store.

Benny joined Frankie in carrying a loveseat downstairs.

“Fish, I need to tell ya,” Benny started, grunting as they made a turn. “She’s as into you as you are her.” Frankie shook his head.

“Don’t do this, man.”

“I’m being serious. I talked to her in the truck. She didn’t say it outright, but you should’a seen the look on her face when I talked about you.” Benny waggled his eyebrows. “And her friend Sara agrees, she’s ‘smitten’ with you. Whatever the fuck smitten means. If you want my advice-”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“-Go for it. Tonight, once we’re all gone. Shoot your shot my guy. Don’t waste anymore fucking time. Sara said she wasn’t even sad about the breakup, like she’s been checked out mentally for months now.”

“Wait, did Sara tell you about me punching Kurt?”

“All I’m saying is, she likes you a lot, you like her a lot, don’t waste this.” Frankie mulled over what Benny was saying. There had been more than a few moments that week when he had spied you looking at him and wondered . . . but each time he had pushed the thought out his head. Old insecurities, respect for you, held him back.

Historically, Frankie had never been very good at telling when someone was into him. He could be literally balls deep and he’d still be questioning it. Even sometimes with Portia, he’d wonder if she really felt the same way he did. Santi, who knew Frankie as a kid, chalked it up to Frankie having a rough go of puberty, not growing into his features until almost the end of high school. By then, whenever someone had showed even a slight bit of interest, Frankie had dismissed it as a cruel joke. Unfortunately, those insecurities had followed him deep into adulthood.

The mood in the apartment had become relaxed, all the heavier stuff, like your couch, TV, furniture, and fridge had been taken care of, and now all that was left was to gather all the small shit. Frankie found you in the bathroom, unscrewing the shower head. You tossed it into a box filled with other bathroom items, the loud clang making him grimace. He opened his mouth to speak to you when yelling from the front room interrupted him.

Your face fell instantly, going from focused to almost afraid. Your eyes met Frankie’s own, and he reached out to touch your arm. It’s okay the touch said, he can’t do anything to you. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and walked out with Frankie to the commotion.

Kurt was being held back with a single hand on his chest by a bored looking Will, screaming a string of expletives and struggling to land any kind of hit on Will, Santi stood behind Kurt, ready to jump in if needed. Benny was hunched over, clutching his sides in laughter. Kurt finally caught sight of you, standing a little in front of Frankie.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” His tone made you wince slightly, but Frankie was proud of the way you didn’t shrink away.

“I told you this was happening today, Kurtis, it was your choice to come back while we were here,” you said calmly.

“You’re taking all my shit!”

“I paid for every single thing I’m taking,” you said. “It’s not my fault you never put anything of monetary value into this place.” You stepped forward, so you were facing Kurt head on, but still behind Will. “You need to calm down, you’re acting like a fucking child.”

“I’M ACTING LIKE A CHILD?”

“Yes. You are. You’ve acted like one almost our entire relationship. So you can either calm down, leave and come back later, or my friends will force you to calm down.”

“Are you threatening me?” Kurt spat.

“Yes. You’ve already been smacked down before, any one of these guys would love to be the one to do it again.”

“I’d like to see them fucking try!” Kurt pivoted and lunged at Benny. Big mistake. With a simple, yet effective, punch to the head, Kurt was out cold on the floor. Benny looked up, almost apologetic. You grinned at him, silent laughter shaking your shoulders.

“I didn’t mean to hit that hard,” Benny said, flexing his fist. “But I also did.”

Santi dragged Kurt’s unconscious body to the now empty living room, carefully posing him so he was curled in the foetal position, sucking on his thumb.

“He actually arrived at the perfect time,” you said to Frankie, standing back beside him. “Cause we’re done here.”

“We’ve got everything?” Santi called, overhearing you. You nodded.

“We’re finally done here.”

~*~

Frankie was glad you had decided to ride with him back to your new place. You were buzzing with a new energy, unable to keep a nervous grin off your face. You didn’t speak on the drive to your new place, but Frankie hoped he wasn’t reading into how much closer you sat, your thighs almost brushing his. Benny had gotten into his head, he knew, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation.

You were the most beautiful person he had met, both inside and out, and the very idea that you could like him the way he liked you . . . well fuck, it didn’t seem feasible. But then he thought back to the previous week spent with you, and maybe it wasn’t such a ludicrous idea after all.

He pulled up at your new building, parking in the spot designated for you. You turned to him, unlatching your seatbelt as you did.

“Frankie . . .” you started, then leant over and pulled him into a tight hug. Frankie felt like everything you wanted to say was in that hug. You pulled back slightly, so your faces were almost touching. He could’ve done it then, he fucking should have done it. Crossed that miniscule amount of space between you. But then the moment passed, and you pulled away entirely.

You climbed out of the truck, moving to the back to grab some of the garbage bags that held the smaller stuff. Frankie’s phone buzzed in the cupholder, a message from Will in the group chat.

Ironhead: Pussy

Frankie turned and saw Will staring at him. Fuck offhe mouthed. Will flipped him off with a grin. The effort of getting all your stuff up to your new place was considerably easier than it had been the first time around. For one, your new place had an elevator. So even though they had to take turns using it, it was worlds above struggling up seven flights of stairs. The mood was also improved by the fact Will had knocked Kurt out cold. Frankie had begun to wonder if that had become the main highlight of your day.

It was well into the night by the time everything was in its new place. Benny and Will flopped down onto your loveseat, drinking beers that you had kept in an ice chest you had brought in yesterday just for this. You sat on the floor, drinking a fruity vodka thing that Frankie thought looked and smelt like a melted popsicle. The balcony door was open, a breeze that held the promise of summer drifted through.

“Where’s Santi?” You asked looking around.

“He had to get something from the truck,” Will said. As if on cue, which if Frankie knew these boys as well as he did, it was, Santi burst through the door, one arm stretched wide, the other behind his back.

“My dearest,” Santi began, and Frankie groaned inwardly, “over this past day, the gentlemen and I have grown quite fond of you.” What is this, regency England? Frankie rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer. “And as such, we wanted to present you with a housewarming gift.” With that, he whipped his arm around and held out a vase of sunflowers. Your face softened, then broke into a grin.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you pushed yourself up and pulled Santi into a hug, motioning for Will and Benny to join. You hugged the three men as tight as you could, smiling at Frankie over the tops of their shoulders. Frankie smiled back, raising his beer in a silent toast.

You placed the flowers on the kitchen counter, facing them toward the window. It was just past ten when the three boys left, Benny carrying the ice chest along with the promise to bring it back as soon as he could. It seemed like it was only moments before only you and Frankie remained.

Frankie’s phone buzzed.

Benny: Don’t fuck this up.

Frankie saw you move outside onto the balcony, leaning against the railing, silhouetted by silver moonlight, your face turned towards the breeze that coasted off the lake. Everyone else was gone, and he wondered if he didn’t take this chance, would he ever?

He moved to stand next to you, standing so close your arms were touching. His heart felt like it was caught in his throat. He murmured your name.

“Frankie,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of his beating heart. Before he could stop himself, chicken out like he had before, he closed the distance between you. One hand cupping your warm cheek, the other encircling your waist, he tilted his head down until his lips met yours.

It was everything.

Your lips were soft against his, hesitant at first, but then you were wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. You tasted like candy and those sugary drinks you insisted on bringing. Your touch was like tiny jolts of electricity shooting down his spine.

Fuck.

His tongue darted against your bottom lip, and you let him in almost hungrily. Frankie deepened the kiss, wondering just why the everloving fuck he waited this long.

He whispered your name, the word like poetry on his lips. You were poetry, you were art, you were every beautiful thing wrapped up into one person. He was in love with you.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki @procrastinationstationnation

#the night shift #frankie catfish morales #frankie x reader #reader x frankie morales #triple frontier #also i really rec you listen to like real people do at the end of this part it was very much the inspo for it #also happy birthday alexa i hope this makes your day a bit better lovely

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srchprtys-kinhelp · 2 years

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pinned post i guess?

hi, my name's jamie (or srchprty if you'd like), and i am currently the only mod. (EDIT FROM MOD 2-D: This isn't true anymore but I'm too lazy to make any heavy edits to this 😅) this blog is still sort of under construction so not everything is perfect yet but we're getting there. dni if you like brendon urie please interact if you like brendon roscoe. have a nice day. more info under the cut

the sort of requests we'll take

edits - icons, wallpapers, lockscreens, headers, you name it- if it's a type of photo we'll shove you in it. as a photo, not literally. we sadly do not have the technology to put your brain inside a photo yet

moodboards - if you've been on tumblr long enough to know what a kinhelp blog is, you know what this means. i'm not very good but i'll try my best.

stimboards - see above

canon calls - if you happen to be looking for some canonmates, shoot us an ask with who you are and who you're looking for, as well as some details about your canon if you'd like. we'll throw it out there for you. can't promise results though

divination - i have an excessive amount of tarot cards and a magic 8 ball named vriska, ready to answer any questions you may have about your timelines or who you kin. you can ask for a certain deck for complicated questions (typically they will be fielded to the cats, but i also have vampire, homestuck, and halloween decks), but for yes/no questions you're getting vriska. i'm sorry. i don't have a pendulum. she's the best you're getting

kin playlists - send in a character, a genre, and/or a theme and i'll give you roughly 10 songs for them. so a playlist. i guess. there will be a lot of iDKHOW and/or the brobecks, but what did you expect coming to the srchprty kinnie for music recs. youtube, spotify, and direct download links included :]

kin positivity - life getting you down? your favorite band doing some confusing shit? the company that owns them sending creepy ass robots after you? no? just me? whatever your circumstances, if you want a few kin-related kind words, send in an ask and i'll try to give you some comfort. (these are only open for sources on the "please request" list!)

sources/things you can request/not request:

please request: any band lore/concept albums (particularly iDKHOW, twenty øne piløts, elsewhere, intellectual property, & danger days, but any are welcome and encouraged!), homestuck, the heart rate of a mouse, minecraft/mcyt roleplays/cubitos, style savvy, the youngblood chronicles, invader zim, slime rancher, heathers, rockafire explosion, scene/emo related stuff, vocaloid(/project sekai) (you're welcome to request things not on this list but we'll probably get to these quicker :p)

please don't request: south park, hetalia, attack on titan, countryhumans, factkin, minimalist aesthetics, agere/ddlg, hospital-related stuff, any superhero movie that is part of a "cinematic universe", harry potter

(both of these lists are liable to be updated at any point. if one of your requests gets put on the don't request list after you send it- no hard feelings, we probably just forgot 😅)

#kin help #new blog #fictionkin #✨📼𝘍𝘖𝘓𝘓𝘖𝘞 𝘈𝘓𝘖𝘕𝘎 -- mod jamie's posts #✨📼𝘕𝘖𝘞‚ 𝘓𝘌𝘛'𝘚 𝘉𝘌𝘎𝘐𝘕 -- misc. posts

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wazzupmrstark · 4 years

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instead of you [part three]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist

“No sex?”

“Y/n!” Sam hissed through his teeth. “You think you could lower your fucking voice a little?” His tone was even, but his eyes betrayed the thinly veiled panic you were all too familiar with.

Pushing your best friend’s buttons was something you usually enjoyed, but in that moment you were feeling a similar sense of panic.

“Sorry, how was I supposed to react to you telling me I can’t sleep with anyone this summer?” you snapped in a whisper.

“How were you expecting to pull that off without making it look like you were cheating on me?” he countered.

“I- I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t thinking about it...”

Sam had been typing the list of “rules” for the summer in the notes app of his phone for the better half of an hour as you brainstormed together, and you had been on board with everything that it consisted of so far:

No gross pet names (babe, baby, and darling are acceptable)

No kissing with tongue

No telling embarrassing stories!! (yes that includes that one time i got a condom stuck in my nose and we had to go to the emergency room- that’s literally only funny to you)

4. Share a bed together for the whole trip

ACT LIKE WE’RE IN LOVE (@ y/n)

Spend at least an hour with family per day

Take “coupley” pictures together when my parents as- bc they WILL ask

Wear the matching shirts my mother made

Buy y/n all the alcohol she wants

It was a pretty decent list, all things considered, until he got to rule number ten.

“I mean it’s not like it’s going to be easy for me either,” Sam reasoned.

You rolled your eyes. “Am I supposed to thank you for your service or something? Applaud you for keeping it in your pants for two whole months?”

“You’re literally complaining about the exact same thing.”

“Yeah, but I’m only doing it to save your ass,” you huffed.

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” he said, sighing. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

You gave him a soft smile. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

“You don’t want to be. You’ve mentioned that several times.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t love you.”

Sam smiled at that. “Thanks, I love you too.”

“Alright that’s enough sincerity between us for a lifetime,” you said and chuckled uneasily. “We can go back to being assholes to each other now.”

“Good, that took a lot out of me.”

You glared at him, but refrained from making a comment. “What’s next on the list then, lover boy?”

“Already breaking the first rule-”

“Fine, what’s next on the list, fuckface?” you asked with a smirk.

Sam clenched his jaw and scrolled on his phone. “Okay, number eleven, no flirting with my brothers.”

“Do you really need to write that one down?” You watched as he typed it out without acknowledging you. “Like isn’t that kind of implied? You know I don’t see Harry like that.”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about,” he muttered.

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, awaiting an explanation, but he offered none. Instead, he moved on to the next rule and left you sitting alone in your confusion.

The majority of the rest of the flight was spent bickering with Sam over the list, undoubtedly annoying the hell out of everyone seated around you. The other passengers finally got some reprieve from the sound of your hushed voices when Sam put his earbuds in to listen to music. You knew he was only doing it to tune you out because whenever he was really listening to something he always shared one of his earbuds with you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. If he was going to be like that then... god, this was going to be a long summer.

You shifted in your seat so that you could comfortably rest your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. Even though he was frustrated with you, you knew he wouldn’t push you away. It was just like that with you guys. He’d get over it by the time you landed.

When you opened your eyes again, Sam had fallen asleep too. He was slumped against you with his head resting on top of yours like something out of a movie. It struck you as ironic. To passers by you already looked like a couple. Game on.

Sam led the way through the busy airport terminal to baggage claim, apparently trusting you were right on his heels. But it was almost like he was trying to lose you with the way he was weaving through the crowd like a wanted fugitive. You could barely keep up. Some fake boyfriend he was.

You’d never seen your best friend like this before. Usually he was so calm and collected, the one who was always talking you off the ledge, but you could tell he was the one climbing stairs right now.

“Fuck, there’s no way this’ll work.”

It had been another one of those late nights in the library when Sam had thrown the stack of index cards onto the table in surrender and buried his face in his hands. You were both teetering on the edge of a caffeine crash. The words on the pages had started to blur together in a way that was almost illegible and neither of you could keep the important dates of your relationship straight.

“Yes it will,” you insisted as you gathered up the cards and handed them back to him. “We’re just burnt out. That’s why we keep getting things wrong.” He knit his eyebrows together in a way that told you he didn’t believe you, but didn’t say anything in return. You sighed and took a sip of your coffee, giving him a measured look over the lenses of your glasses. “It’s four am., Sam. We just need some sleep and then we’ll come back fresh tomorrow, you’ll see.”

He pushed his hair back from his forehead and nodded reluctantly. “Thanks for doing this with me... it’s, uh, really important to me.”

“I know.”

But you didn’t know why. Sam didn’t even study this hard for midterms, but here he was night after night with you mapping out every single detail of your fake relationship. A small part of you wondered if there was something more, something that he was keeping from you, but you pushed the thought down. You told each other everything...

As you watched him wait for your suitcases at the carousel, arms crossed, left foot tapping the tile impatiently, it dawned on you just how nervous he was. You wished there was something you could say to ease his mind, but the right words were escaping you. To be fair, you weren’t having any luck shaking your jitters either. You’d never been in a relationship long enough to meet your significant other’s parents. Somehow the fact that you weren’t even dating made it even more daunting. You desperately needed the Hollands to like you- for both you and Sam’s sakes.

“This one’s yours, right?” Sam asked and pointed to one of the bags he’d rolled over.

“Yeah, thanks for grabbing it.”

“Don’t mention it, babe.” You fought the urge to make a face- “you’re making a face.”

“Sorry, knee-jerk reaction. Still adjusting to hearing that.”

“Well adjust quicker because my brother will be here to pick us up any minute.”

“Wait, what?”

“How else did you think we were going to get home?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think about it.”

You followed Sam outside through the automatic doors to the car loop to wait for Harry. It was warm out, but there was a light breeze that lifted some of the heat from the pavement. The sun had set mere minutes ago, and dusk was lazily settling over the horizon. You were too close to the city to see any stars, but the moon glowed dimly behind the clouds, like a performer waiting in the wings.

Sam scrolled through Spotify as you both sat there, carefully balanced on your suitcases, and offered you one of his AirPods. You took it wordlessly and put it in your ear. The gesture was comforting, almost intimate, a reminder that nothing had changed between you. At least not yet.

He was playing something you hadn’t heard before, a classical piece. It sounded old and European which didn’t narrow it down at all. A glance at the title scrolling across his screen suggested that it was French, but he put his phone in his pocket and stood up before you could fully read it.

Before you could ask what was happening a black Audi pulled up to the curb, parked, and a boy who was... not Harry stepped out of it. It was then that you realized Sam had never specified which brother was picking you up.

You knew Sam had an older brother, but he didn’t talk about him much. You had just assumed they weren’t close, but as you watched them hug and laugh together you weren’t sure what to make of it.

“Y/n, this is Tom,” Sam said as he introduced you to his brother. “Tom, this is my girlfriend, y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.” You held out your hand and he shook it tentatively.

“Likewise,” he replied, sounding unconvinced. “Can I help you guys with your bags?”

“Um, sure. That’d be great.”

You handed over your suitcase and backpack to him and joined Sam back over on the sidewalk while Tom lifted the luggage into the trunk with surprising ease.

Tom was about Sam’s height, slender like Sam too, but far more athletically built. Even through his t-shirt you could see the distinct outline of muscles you hadn’t even known existed in the human anatomy- it was ridiculous. His smile was the same as Sam’s too, but what really gave him away as a Holland were the curls peeking out from under his baseball cap. They were impossible to miss.

“Do you want to sit in the front, love?” Sam asked, pulling you back into the moment.

“No thanks, you catch up with your brother. I’ll be fine in the back.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. Tom didn’t seem too thrilled to meet you in the first place so sitting in the back seemed like the safer way to play it. Sam just shrugged and climbed into the passenger seat while you slid into the middle seat in the back.

“Did you tell mum we’re running a few minutes late?” Sam asked Tom once he’d merged onto the road.

“Yeah, she said she expects it from Heathrow anyway since they’re always so busy.”

“It was fucking packed, mate.”

“I know. Traffic was awful getting here. Everyone’s going on holiday.” Tom turned to glance at you, then back at his brother. “Are you guys hungry? Dinner should be ready when we get there.”

“When we get where?” you piped up in confusion, wondering who would’ve cooked at the boys’ flat.

“Mum’s and dad’s.”

You grabbed Sam by the shoulder. “Wait, we’re going straight to your parents’ house? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What do you mean? Why does it matter?”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “I can’t meet your parents like this!”

“Like what?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m wearing sweatpants!”

“And you look fine!” he argued. “Tom, tell her she looks fine.”

“Uh, you look fine.”

Why were men so fucking dense? You rolled your eyes and unbuckled your seatbelt. Your suitcase was just out of reach in the trunk so you hoisted yourself up over the seatback and grabbed one of the straps on the bag to pull it closer to you.

With your limited access it was hard to find what you were looking for, but you managed to randomly pull out a nice pair of jeans and a floral print blouse you’d thrifted last semester to change into.

Before either of the boys up front could register what was happening you pulled your t-shirt off over your head and started shimmying out of your sweats.

“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?” Sam hissed as the car swerved.

To be fair, you were just straight up taking your pants off in his brother’s car, but in your defense he’d really left you no choice.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You snapped and looked back up at him defiantly, catching Tom’s eye in the rearview mirror as you did.

“Keep your eyes on the fucking road, Tom.” Sam grumbled, shooting daggers back at you.

You blew him a kiss in return followed by the middle finger as you buttoned your jeans with your other hand.

Tom laughed and turned to his brother. “I like her.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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glitterge1pen · 3 years

Text

Have You Ever Considered Craft Supplies Instead Of Drugs? Then This Might Be For You.

Kyōtani Kentarou x reader, sfw, fluff, 1,691word count

His room for the most part was clean. It’s main function was for sleep though. This was apparent. His clothes, which were mainly basketball shorts and blank t-shirts, were scattered about in a way that told you he threw them there when going to bed.

Kyotani had told you to give him a few minutes, while he was in the bathroom brushing his teeth and struggling with the cap of his eyeliner pen. You felt comfortable enough in his apartment to check the fridge and see if anything was worth your while. But still you felt a bit like an intruder in his bedroom, which is where you had wandered off to.

The walls were white, mostly bare. There was a poster up for some band you didn't recognize, and another one advertising the Sendai Frogs that looked like he had ripped it off one wall to get onto his. You smiled at the thought of him stealing the poster from the grocery store display window or stadium parking lot.

You give his room one last once over before turning to leave. On your way out you trip over a shoe box. You would have just ignored it but a few tufts of paper flew out from the lid. You bend down to collect them but find that these aren't just trash from the shoe box. Quietly, and with a tinge of guilt, you kneel down to gently put the papers back in the box. The little scraps of paper you had found were actually sticky notes, you couldn't decipher the writing on them because of how faded and old the paper was.

You get one quick glimpse inside the shoe box on Kyotani’s floor. There are dozens of papers, printed photos, receipts, tickets, and what you assume are old keys. You feel like you've seen something very private of Kyotani’s and when you turn around to find him standing in the doorway, you gasp in shock.

“What are you doing in here?”

He seems more concerned and confused about you versus the fact that you are in his room. You decide sarcasm is the best choice of action.

“What? You embarrassed about me being in your bedroom?”

“Shut up and get out!”

Kyotani puts his hands on your shoulders and tosses you out into the hallway.

“Hey, hey, what time is it because we might actually be late to the movie now,”

You say pulling out your phone to get a glance at the clock. There was only twenty minutes before you were supposed to be at the theater.

“We’ll be fine, the trailers always play for too long anyways”

He says leading you out the front door.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

When the team wins a game and you head out to eat with the guys afterwards, your eyes don't usually follow Kyotani’s hands so closely. You hope that no one else has picked up on your new habit. But last week's venture into his bedroom has left you reeling in thought.

Kyotani doesn't really like to be hugged. During movie nights he sits separate from the pile of pillows and bodies. He tolerates head pats and high fives. When he hangs up the phone you can feel how difficult it is for him to say something like “bye I love you” platonic or not.

You hadn't really considered it before, at least not so intently in relation to Kyotani. Most people were easy to understand in their affections and how they garnered it. Or if they weren't so obvious, they made some sort of distinction, a simple “I don't like when people do this” or “I prefer this”.

Being friends with Kyotani you had assumed that he was content with what people gave him because he never asked for more. He didn't hug you when you two parted ways, and you never forced him to. He didn't ask or push on others boundaries but now after seeing that shoe box you wondered why he had never advocated for his own. You thought perhaps it wasnt that Kyotani disliked those other forms of affection or care, but rather he didn't regard those other acts as affections at all.

The sounds of the restaurant fade back in as your thoughts simmer down. You feel Tsukishima and Yamaguchi next to you. Enthralled in a conversation about some show they had been binging together. Apparently Yamaguchi had watched a few episodes without Tsukishima and everyone found the annoyed, bitter expression on Tsukishima hilarious, the table erupting in laughter.

“You good? You've been staring at nothing for five minutes,”

Kyotani said to you before taking another bite into his food. He sat across from you, his elbows propping him up over his plate of food.

“Yeah, just tired today,”

You say shaking your head as if trying to wake yourself up.

As the evening wears on, your eyes still follow Kyotani’s hands. Trying to catch the moment of thievery in action. To see if your contemplations are grounded in Kyotani’s actions or rather thoughts with nothing to hold as they pass you by.

But as everyone files out of the restaurant, the bill already split, the copy of the receipt abandoned on the table, you watch as Kyotani lingers for just a moment, to pocket the slip of paper.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You couldn't remember the last time you had attempted to burn a CD. Was it you who did it or a friend? It was years ago though that was for sure. You had made three playlists on spotify, checking and double checking that they were private playlists. After arranging them and finding the songs that fit just right with each list you started finding youtube videos of each song. From there you converted the links to MP3 audio.

While your computer whirred and the audio filed loaded onto the disk you thought about decorating the CD cases. Of course covering the clear plastic case with glitter gel pen and cute stickers was very tempting. But you weren't sure that was Kyotani’s style. At the same time this was supposed to be a gift from you. You met yourself halfway. Decorating one CD case like how you would have wanted, and the other with more of a Kyotani flair, the third somewhere in between the two.

When the CD’s were done you carefully placed them into their new plastic homes. Grabbing a black sharpie to scribble the playlist names onto each. You felt like wrapping them would be too extravagant so you settled for tying a ribbon around the two.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What the hell do you want?” Kyotani says as he pulls up next to you on the curb outside your place. You had texted him earlier while he was at work, asking if could stop by after he got off. He has the window rolled down and you take it upon yourself to unlock the passenger door and climb inside.

"I wanted you to test these out"

You were hoping that you had done everything right with the computer.You hand him the CD's, he flips them over in his hands inspecting them.

“Is it cool if I take these ribbons off?”

You nod and he turns the car radio on to insert the CD’s. As the first song starts playing you turn to him.

“This is that band you like right? The one on that poster in your room?”

Kyotani is visibly flustered by this.

“Yes? Did you...did you make these for me?”

You throw your head back in a laugh.

“Yes, I made them for you,”

“Oh,”

He says in a rather soft amazed tone.

“Look, I didn't mean to, but when I was in your room the other day I tripped over that shoe box you have,”

You keep your eyes trained on the street outside the dashboard window. Unsure and a bit nervous to see what Kyotani is thinking. Tempted by curiosity though, you do look at him for a brief moment, only to find him also intensely staring off into the street. His face lit up red with embarrassment.

“I’m glad that I saw it though. Because that stuff is important to you and I want to know what you think is important”

The air in the car feels like it is clinging to your skin with tension. You think the pressure will start to crack your bones when Kyotani’s voice splinters the suspense.

“It's easier to feel something when its tangible, when you can hold it, it's why people still buy polaroids and go to museums and shit”

You nod, a jovial ease overcoming you as he continues to speak.

“I don't really like, uh, I guess physical affection or even talking or it’s not like talking, people call it words of affirmation or whatever,”

You hold the smile of your lips down, you don't want him to think you’re teasing him in this moment. You're just happy that he is comfortable enough with you to say such things.

“I know lots of other people like to have those types of things though, and I worked really hard to get used to stuff, but I don't know, this is what I like,”

He says gesturing with the CD case to you.

“I mean so like, birthday cards, post-it notes, bus transfers? Things that are directly attached to memories and people? Anything else you want me to know about?”

While it hurts a little that he’s struggling to talk about this matter, you can't help but revel in the unusual brash shyness of Kyotani. He does mutter something, but when you lean in closer to signal that you didn't hear him the first time he repeats himself.

“Event pamphlets. I know it's trash but I like it”

“Promise you won't get mad?”

You drawl your voice out and make it sweet so he knows you're messing with him.

“Hm?”

He says, eyebrow quirked in question.

“I think you'd be really into scrapbooking”

“Shut the hell up before I kick you out of my car”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: Took a break from my current writing obsession to spit this out .

#kyotani x reader #kyōtani kentarō #kyoutani kentarou #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #kyoutani kentarou x reader

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

Text

Becoming A Stark? (1) Peter Parker X Stark! Fem Reader

A/N: This will eventually be a Peter Parker X Stark! femReader. However, there was backstory needed so Peter won’t be introduced until Chapter Six. This takes place after Iron Man 3 but before AOU. However time is wishy washy and will pass in weird ways so lol opps. Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Word Count: 3073

Warnings: Swearing

You feel it in your soul that you will hate Tony Stark for the rest of your life. It doesn’t matter that you’re related to him. It doesn’t matter that you’re his daughter. He ripped you from everything you’ve ever known. You were happy living with your grandparents. Sure they were getting up there in age, but you were happy. You had a life, you had friends, hell you had been working on moving forward with your crush and were hoping to have a date to homecoming this year. But all of that was ruined the day that Tony Stark waltzed through your front door. You can’t help but think back to that interaction.

“Nana, who’s this?”

“Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, philanthropist, Iron Man, to name a few things. I’d offer a hand but that’s not something I normally do. I guess, maybe I should due to the circumstances but…” It’s not the first time you’ve seen his face. The Avengers have saved New York a few times, but it is the first time you’ve seen him up close. The dark haired stranger trails off and you’re put off by his attitude alone. Why was someone this stuck up standing in your living room? So instead of saying anything, you turn your head back to your book. Tony decides to take a seat at the opposite end of the couch and tries again. “What are you reading?”

Instead of answering, you just hold up the book and let him read the cover. Once and Future, spelled out on the spine of the book that you had removed the book jacket from while you read. “Y/N, maybe put the book down for a few minutes. I think Mr. Stark-”

“Tony is fine.”

“I think Tony and you need to discuss something.” You hesitantly pick up the receipt you had been using as a bookmark and slide it into the book, not wanting to leave Ari Helix behind, but you wouldn’t be rude to your Nana on a good day. On a day that you had trudged through the snow in your converse, maybe, but not on purpose.

“I don’t know him. I don’t think we have anything to discuss.”

“You’re right, we don’t know each other yet, but I’m hoping that will change with everything that’s going to happen.”

“What’s going to happen?” You can feel your eyebrows fall towards your eyes as you feel as though something is about to change without your permission.

“Well Y/N, I’m… I’m your dad.”

“Bullshit.” You say quickly. “Tony Stark doesn’t have kids. And if he did, there would have been a fucking gossip blog screaming about it already.”

“Well you definitely have my mouth if nothing else.” Tony adds with a chuckle.

“I don’t have anything of yours, because you’re not my dad. I never want to see you again. Get the fuck out.” You push off the couch and turn to run off to your room.

“See that’s going to be a little tough seeing as you're supposed to come live with me.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” You turn on your heels, the anger building quickly. You’ve always been a bit of a hot head, but in this moment you don’t even try to control your temper. “I have a home, thank you very kindly. I don’t fucking know you. And I’m not looking to find a dad anytime soon.” The words spit out of you before you can stop any of them.

“See the thing is, you’re fourteen and I’m your dad. Custodially, you’re supposed to live with me.”

“See the thing is,” you mock before continuing, “You didn’t care for fourteen years, so I don’t give a shit what you think you’re supposed to be doing custodially.” You can’t help but add air quotes around the word custodially. It burns as it leaves your lips. He hasn’t cared about you for fourteen years, why start now?

“That’s because I didn’t know you existed Y/N. I found out about you twenty four hours ago and I’m stepping up now.” The words leave his mouth in an exasperated tone, but he doesn’t raise his voice.

“How?”

“How what?”

“How did you find out about me?”

“Your high school.”

“What?”

“When you registered for school they had your birth certificate. They needed more information. Since it listed me as your father, they reached out to Nat- to my assistant. It was quite the shock to me that my child’s school was reaching out to me, since I didn’t know I had a child but the timing adds up and looking at you, it makes a lot of sense.”

“You were listed on my birth certificate?” This question was aimed at your grandparents more than at Tony-your father.

“We didn’t know if it was true or not. Your mom was in a bad place when she had you Y/N. So we had to take everything she said with a grain of salt. Was she beautiful and loving and did she love you? Yes completely. But did a lot of what she said during that time make sense? No, not at all.” Your nana says as she sits down on the couch, rubbing her knee. It’s probably another bad day. If you leave, who will make sure Nana and Pops are ok?

“I can’t go with you.” You cross your arms as you speak to Ton-your father.

“Why not?” His eyebrow raises over his square glasses.

“‘Cuz someone has to help Nana and Pops around the house.”

“I’ll make sure there’s a nurse helping them. Or better we can move them into a nursing facility where they don’t have to go up and down a bunch of flights of steps all the time.”

“Why would you do that.” The question came out as a demand, especially since you don’t want to believe this man that’s taking you away from the only family you’ve ever known would do something… nice.

“Because they’re your family. I’m not heartless. Well I guess that depends on what your belief on science is and arc reactors are, but technically I do still have a heart underneath all of this.” He points to where you know there would be metal and lights under his suit. “But for right now, we need to focus on getting you to the tower.”

“What tower?”

“Avenger’s tower? It’s closer than Malibu? And in less shambles.”

“So you’re moving me from the home that I know and love, but you don’t even live where you’re moving me?”

“I live there a lot of the time. And the Avengers are there most of the time which means you’ll be very safe. But I do have to travel for business.”

“Then I’ll stay where I am thanks.” Tony goes to speak when Wallace goes off. The beeping is only jarring for him since you and your Nana are used to it going off at random times.

“What the hell is that?”

“That is Wallace.” You say, not clearing up anything. Hmmm, your Dexcom says you’re 205 and rising? You could have sworn you had insulin on board. So you unclip the pump from your side and tap the screen to enter your blood sugar. No correction needed.

“You good babydoll?” Your nana asks from across the living room.

“I’m good. I have insulin on board.”

“You’re diabetic?” Tony asks, putting two and two together.

“Yup. Have been since I was four.”

“And Wallace?” He asks hesitantly.

“Do you honestly care?” You say before rolling your eyes and walking towards the kitchen. Mentally, you slap yourself. You should have grabbed your book. Now you’ll either have to start a new one or wait until your father, you roll your eyes at even saying it, leaves so you can continue your space adventure. Walking down the hallway you enter your room and close the door behind you. All you want to do is shut out the bombshell that was dropped on you and not deal with it. But for some reason you get the feeling that Tony Stark, freaking Iron Man, isn’t one to just let things go.

Giving up on the idea of starting another book, you open your computer and click your Spotify to start playing the playlist you had paused this morning when you had left to run errands with Pops. You only have two weeks of summer left, so you had spent time getting school supplies and groceries before returning to the apartment. While Hitchin’ A Ride by Green Day starts playing, you open Twitter, hoping for anything to distract yourself. But somehow you find yourself on Tony Stark’s Twitter. It was less narcissistic that you imagined for him. Some retweets about Stark Industries, a few comical tweets about wanting a cheeseburger, and then a tweet from twenty four hours that just said HOLY SHIT in all caps and nothing else. Could that be about you? Closing out Twitter, you find yourself opening up your Tumblr to scroll as Lithium by Nirvana played. Or well you tried to scroll, but a knock on your door interrupts you.

“Can I come in?” Tony’s head peaks in.

“If I say no will you go?” You say without looking up.

“Probably not. The people in my inner circle say I’m fairly stubborn.”

“Hmm.” Is the only reply you give him. To be fair, a lot of your friends would say you’re stubborn too so it’s not that surprising that your father is too.

“I know you don’t like it kiddo-”

“Don’t call me kiddo.

“-but we do need to head to the Tower soon. Happy’s been parked downstairs for about as long as he’s allowed to be there.” Tony continues as if you hadn’t said anything. “So how about you pack up stuff you’ll need for the next few days and then I can send Happy and some other people to come get the rest later on?”

“You’re going to send people to pack up my stuff? You know how invasive that is?”

“Ok, I’ll send you over with them, you can pack it up and they’ll move it to the tower, it’s your choice. Or to Malibu if you’d rather. Well that is once the rebuild is done. Long story. But if you stay at the tower, you won’t have to change schools.”

“Yippee. Everyone at school will get to find out that Tony Stark is my father. How much fun will that be.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm. “I definitely wanted to be ostracized my first year at high school. Thanks for making it even better than I could ever imagine high school being.”

“Look I know this isn’t a win/win scenario, but we can keep your name out of the press until your eighteen if you want. You’re a minor-”

“Yeah, but when the paparazzi see me coming out of the tower, that won’t tip them off.”

“I’ll have Happy drive you. There’s a garage entrance. No one will see you coming or leaving.”

“Great so I just have to give up my freedom. That’s even better than I imagined.”

“Y/N, I know this isn’t what you wanted, or even what you want, but I think we can come up with something that works in the long run. Plus I’m having Pepper, you’ll meet her later, take over SI so I won’t have to do as much. I can try to stay in New York as much as possible. Because no matter what happens, you’re my daughter and I want to know you.” You don’t say anything in response. “I hope one day, you feel similarly.” He says softly.

“I doubt it.” You say honestly.

“Well even if that’s the case, right now we do need to pack up some stuff to take to the tower for now. Want me to hel-” He starts to pick up a sweatshirt from the end of your bed and you snatch it from his hand as you reply.

“I’ve got it.”

“Y/N, we’re here.” Your father’s voice pulls you from your thoughts and you look at the non descript parking garage that is under what you assume is the tower. The man you’ve figured out is Happy, though he’s the exact opposite of Happy, opens your door and you climb out, knowing that Tony will be behind you. Happy goes to grab your bags from the trunk, but you stop him.

“I’ve got it.”

“It’s part of my job.”

“I don’t have an issue carrying my own stuff like some people.” From the trunk you lift out your purple backpack, the black rolling suitcase, and the canvas bag that’s filled with all your pump supplies, sensors, and insulin. You follow Tony and Happy towards an elevator.

“JARVIS take us to the main floors.”

“Certainly sir.” You look up expecting to see a face or something but there’s no one there.

“JARVIS is the AI that runs the whole tower. If you need anything JARVIS is the one to ask. If there’s specific food you want or if you need stuff for school or, well, anything really, just ask JARVIS. I’ll get you added to the levels of clearance that allow you to order anything that you want.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Part of you living with me is that I’m going to provide for you. JARVIS is part of providing for you. I’m not the best at remembering to like grocery shop or send the laundry out so JARVIS helps with that.”

“Send the laundry out? Do you not have a washer and dryer in this whole place?” You cock an eyebrow at how spoiled he sounds.

“We do, but there are other things that take time away from me.” You add continue to do my own laundry to the mental list of things that will make you different from your father. Tony notices the disapproval marked in his daughter’s face and hopes that maybe meeting the Avengers will make up for the disappointment he’s been to her so far. The doors open and in the living room Natasha and Clint are sitting watching a movie while Steve sits in a chair reading a book. “Where’s Code Green?”

“In the lab,” Steve comments, not looking up from the page he’s on.

“That’s Capsicle. Legolas is sitting next to Nat. Big Green is down in the lab and Point Break is currently back at home but you’ll meet him eventually, though hopefully not his brother.” At the sound of being introduced the three in the living room look up and see the girl standing next to Tony in surprise.

“Uh, Tony, are we taking pint size Avengers now?” Clint asks.

“I might be small, but I can kick your knees out just as easily.” You pull on the strap of your backpack, not really wanting to be in this room much longer.

“Ok, before you kick anyone’s knees out. This is not an Avenger recruit. This is Y/N Stark, my daughter.” Ok taking on his last name was something you were going to have to talk to him about because you were perfectly happy being Y/N Y/L/N, not this Y/N Stark bullshit.

“You have a kid?” Steve asks, genuine confusion spread across his face.

“I do. I didn’t know until yesterday, but I’m doing the right thing.” You can’t stop the snort that escapes you. Tony looks over at you.

“Sorry,” You say although you don’t mean it. “Can I es- go to my room?”

“‘Yes, you can escape to your room. I’ll show you where it is.”

“I got it boss. I think you have some people that need answers.” Happy offers. You’re silently relieved that Happy offered to show you. If you had to spend another minute with your dad, you might lose your mind. Happy walks you into the kitchen and opens the fridge as you go past it. You look at him, trying to figure out why he’s opening it. “Tony told me you’re diabetic. You have insulin that needs refrigeration right?”

“Oh, yeah I just didn’t know he told you.”

“Head of security. There’s not much he doesn’t tell me.” Happy turns them towards a staircase leading away from where all the Avengers are. “But you know if you need someone to talk to, or grab a cheeseburger with, there’s things he doesn’t have to know about.”

“I don’t eat meat, but I appreciate it, Happy.”

“He’s going to say you’re not his kid if you don’t eat cheeseburgers.” And for the first time since all of this started, you actually let out a laugh.

Tony’s head turns towards the sound of the laugh. It’s unfamiliar, but he wants to hear more of it. He’s missed fourteen years of your life, but he wants to make things better, he does. He’s just not sure how.

“So you found out you have a kid?” Steve asks, his book forgotten now.

“Yeah, yesterday I found out I had a fourteen year old and then it’s been a whole process of finding out that since she’s mine I have custody technically.”

“So you took her away from all she knows?” Natasha's voice comes softly from the couch.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Did you give her a choice?” Natasha asks, harsher this time. In her eyes anyone could see the remainders of another girl that was taken from all she ever knew and replaced with a hard boiled assassin.

“In the eyes of the state she doesn’t really have a choice.”

“So you didn’t give her a choice.”

“She’s got a medical condition that was costing her family thousands a month on top of her grandparents’ conditions. I’m helping!” Tony’s voice raises for the first time this afternoon since he tried to stay calm around his kid.

“You think you’re helping, but you’re taking her from the only life she’s ever known and I’m betting you gave her no choice in this. All you might get out of this is four years with her and then she disappears from your life.” Clint says softly, not trying to upset Tony, but also hearing the points that Natasha was bringing up.

“You’re going to have to work hard to make this worth it to Y/N, Tony.” Steve says before picking up his book.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #stark!reader #tony stark daughter #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x you #imanativeofswlondondahling #tony stark x daughter!reader

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rmtndew · 4 years

Text

Begin Again

Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff)

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).

I also made a Spotify playlist for this story, if anyone is interested - Begin Again Playlist

Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @alyxkbrl, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0, @gearhead66, @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora, @justaboringadult, @beenthroughalot, @seriouslygoodlookinggents, @xxxkatxo

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

The last Wednesday in October was a gray, misty, windy day. It was cold, the kind you felt more in your bones than anywhere else, with the sky occasionally spitting out sleet. I spent the entire twenty-minute drive to my job at Waverly Catering clutching the steering wheel so tightly that my hands were cramping by the time I arrived from white-knuckling it the whole way there. Usually, I would get to work early enough to enjoy the silence and finish off my coffee before officially starting my workday. That day, however, I spent the very little extra time I had trying to get my hands to stop hurting, then chugged down my coffee that had cooled dramatically to a gross lukewarm temperature.

Before going in, I checked my phone. I always kept it on silent while I drove. My mom had a tendency to text me, make a dozen spelling mistakes because of auto-correct, then correct them one by one, leaving me with about thirteen separate texts to read. It didn’t use to bother me, I thought it was charming and very distinctly Mom. But when she’d gotten sick at the beginning of the year, every text she sent that I couldn’t read immediately made me panic, worrying that something terrible had happened to her, even when I’d just seen her at home a few minutes before. So for my sanity - and hers - I started putting my phone on silent until I got to work, or wherever else I was going. It was a habit I’d kept even after she’d gone into remission because her cancer may have been gone, but my anxiety over her wasn’t.

That morning when I checked my phone, I saw that I had two texts, but they weren’t from Mom.

Marshall: Good morning, Fi. I hope that I get to see you today. I’ll be chained to my desk with paperwork for a while. This is the first time I’ve not dreaded it. You’re my silver lining.

That was cheesy. I’m sorry. I’m bad at this.

And just like that, all of my stress melted away. The weather didn’t matter, my disappointing coffee didn’t matter, even the cramping in my hands didn’t matter. All that did matter was that Walter Marshall thought of me as his silver lining. Yes it was early days, yes we’d barely known each other a month, yes we’d only gone on two dates, but he made me happier than I’d been in a long time. I felt like I’d been holding my breath for two years, starting when my dad had died in a car crash, followed by my boyfriend Ezra breaking up with me, then losing my job as an interior designer, and capping off with my mom’s cancer diagnoses. Then Walter came along and it was like I could finally breathe again.

Me: Please don’t apologize. You have no idea how much I needed to read that this morning. Feel free to be as cheesy as you want. And I hope I get to see you today, too, even if it means you’re chained to your desk.

Marshall: If I don’t see you for some reason, can I call you tonight? I miss your voice and you make me want to get better at this talking thing.

I could feel myself blushing. Even over the phone he made me feel like a teenager with a crush. I had no idea that anyone could make me feel that way as an adult, but he did every time he texted me.

Me: Of course you can. Even if we do see each other, you can still call, if you want? Practice makes perfect, and all that.

Marshall: I’d like that. Talk to you soon.

I sat back in my seat with a sigh as I looked out at the sleet falling from the gray sky, spattering my windshield, blurring out the image of the trees in the park across from me blowing and bending in the wind.

It was going to be a good day.

“You look...dare I say it? Happy?” Darcy said as I walked into her office.

I smiled. “You may dare to say it because yes, I am quite happy.”

“And what brings you to such an extreme emotion so early on such a disgusting day?”

I went to her desk and sat in the chair opposite her. “Well, for one, I know that you’re about to do me a big favor that I will forever be grateful for.”

“Fiona Sparks asking for a favor? I’ll mark the day in my calendar,” she joked. “What kind of favor do you need?”

“I need a copy of the peanut butter cookie recipe.”

“For what purpose?”

“See, that’s where the happiness part comes into play and you, being one of my dearest friends, would love to see me happy.”

“I would but I’m unsure how a cookie recipe is going to do that.”

“It’s not for me,” I said, smiling wide. “I met this guy -”

“What? Who?” she asked enthusiastically, her eyes wide with excitement.

“His name is Walter Marshall. He’s our detective who never changes his lunch order.”

“You’re dating one of the homicide detectives? You can feel free to thank me later for giving you that order, by the way. But right now I want details: How long have you been dating and why am I just now finding out about it?”

“We’re not technically dating. I met him a few weeks ago for the first time and we went on two dates last week.”

“You haven’t dated anyone in over two years, and then you go on two dates in one week?”

“Well, the first was just a coffee date. Saturday we tried having a proper one.”

“Tried?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

“He wanted to take me to dinner, so we went to an Italian place, but before we could order, his daughter called. She was supposed to be at a Halloween party, but some of her friends had lied to her, I guess, and it ended up being a basement party with slightly older boys and she felt uncomfortable, so we went and picked her up. Then we all went for pizza together.”

“He has a daughter, which is some heavy baggage to begin with, but you met her on your second date? That’s a lot, Fiona.”

“I know it seems like it, but it’s really not. She’s a good kid. And he’s an amazing father, which, oddly, just makes him more attractive,” I said. “But that’s not the point. The point is that his daughter was, understandably, a little iffy about me being with him when he picked her up until she found out that I’m the one who brings the cookies. She apparently loves them and I told her that I might be able to get her a copy of the recipe and that seemed to pave the way for her not hating me instantly. And she’s thirteen, so that’s a pretty big deal.”

“I have so many questions right now but I can’t sort them all out so I’m going to be annoying you with them all day, just be prepared for that. All I want to know right now is if you want the recipe laminated or not?”

I let out a relieved breath. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind. And thank you so much, Darcy. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I do know. You never ask for anything, even simple things, so the fact that you’re willing to ask me for a favor means this is a pretty big deal,” she said. “He must be a good guy.”

I nodded. “He really is.”

I arrived at the police station that morning a little before eleven. I’d left the shop early, worried the weather might get bad again and didn’t want to be late for my delivery. Thankfully the sleeting had stopped, allowing me to get there a few minutes early. A few minutes that I used up trying to pull my dolly through the parking lot. The lot had been salted, which was good in that at least it wasn’t icy, but the wheels on my dolly didn’t seem to like the brine mixture. They kept locking up on me. Between that and having to fight against the roaring wind, it took me an embarrassingly long time to reach the station door. Before I could push it open, someone opened it from the inside for me. I looked up, expecting to see Officer Bates. He was the security officer that was posted downstairs and always went through the containers full of lunches that I brought to the homicide unit every week. Instead, I saw Marshall.

“Hello,” he said with a smile.

I immediately felt like giggling. The last time I’d seen him, we’d kissed. And seeing him right then, seeing his beautiful, handsome face, I wanted so badly to kiss him again. Instead, I felt myself grow shy as I blushed so fiercely that my cheeks stung with the new heat that rushed to them.

“Hi,” I said. He pulled the door open all the way, then stepped back, allowing me to walk in. My stomach fluttered as I looked back at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He closed the door behind me. “May I help you with your cart?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Would you let me help you take it back to your car when you leave, at least?”

I fought every instinct inside of me that insisted I say no. Darcy was right: I hated asking for even simple things. I never wanted to burden anyone. But since I’d met Marshall, I’d learned that his way of showing interest or affection was to do things for me. But he always asked first, wanting my permission. It challenged me, but in a good way. I didn’t need to always go it alone if I didn’t have to.

“Um, yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” I said. “The wheels didn’t seem to agree with the salted parking lot. You could probably pull it a lot easier than me.”

Marshall stayed with me as Officer Bates went through the containers I’d brought in. He wasn’t close enough to make anyone passing by question it, but it was close enough that my hand hanging at my side could feel the heat coming from his hand and forearm, that was visible from the blue henley that was pushed up to his elbows in a way that I found incredibly attractive. My fingers itched to seek out his, but I fought it. Keeping them obediently beside me. Once Officer Bates was done and gave me the all clear to take the food up, Walter walked me to the elevator and pressed the button to call it down. Then he held the door back, letting me in first before following me. After the door slid closed, he fell back half a step, putting him right beside me. His hand bumped mine, his fingers snaking through, gently holding mine. I smiled, knowing I wasn’t the only one itching for contact.

I turned without a thought and placed a kiss on his shoulder. Then I paused, a moment of panic rising in me that maybe we weren’t at that level yet. But before I could move or feel too worried, he placed a kiss on the top of my head.

“I keep thinking about Saturday,” he whispered.

“Me, too,” I said. I looked up at him. “It was...pretty amazing.”

He smiled. I could see his sharp canine teeth. They were oddly charming. “Yes, it was.” He laced his fingers with mine more securely, properly holding it. “I know I mentioned calling you tonight, but I hoped that we might have dinner again instead. If you’re not busy?”

“I’m exceptionally not busy tonight.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead before turning his head back to face the elevator door. “I won’t be able to finish all my paperwork today, there’s too much and it keeps multiplying like rabbits, so since I have to do it tomorrow anyway, I’m going to knock off here around five. Could I pick you up after that? Around five-thirty, perhaps?”

I nodded, smiling. “That sounds great.”

The elevator dinged as we reached the homicide unit floor. He gave my hand a couple of gentle squeezes before letting it go as the door slid open. He stepped out, then held the door for me like he had before, letting me pull my cart out. He walked with me almost all the way to the break room before a shorter man with glasses stopped him.

“Lieutenant Marshall, can I speak with you in your office for a moment?” he asked.

“Of course.” Walter touched my shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said to me quietly before leaving for his office.

I continued on and was met by most of the detectives waiting for me. Like usual, they didn’t talk to me much, just thanking me for the food before taking their box and going. I took my time, hoping that by the time that I was done, the man speaking with Walter would be gone before I brought him his lunch. When I was done, I packed up my cart before taking Marshall’s boxed lunch and walked down the hall, finding the door to his office open. I could hear him talking still and wasn’t sure what to do. I’d made a deal with him a few weeks back to always bring his lunch to his office whenever I delivered - the first time was because a uniformed officer looked like he was going to swipe it, after that, it was to thank him for rescuing me from a pushy creep while I was with my ‘friends’. We’d never discussed if I should interrupt while he was working. I chewed my lip, debating what to do for several seconds before deciding to just take a chance and knock on the door frame. The worst case scenario was that I looked like a very dedicated delivery woman making sure that all of my orders reached their proper owners.

“Yep. Come in,” Walter called out in response to my knocking.

I entered his office only far enough to be seen and not a step further. I didn’t know if Marshall wanted people to know about us, so I was prepared to make a quick exit if I needed to. “I have a delivery for Detective Marshall,” I said.

He looked at me and smiled, then waved me in further. “Harper, this is Fiona Sparks. Fiona, this is Commissioner Harper.”

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I said.

“You, too.” He looked at me over the top of his glasses. “You don’t happen to be related to Rodger Sparks, by any chance?”

I felt speechless for a moment. I hadn’t heard anyone other than Mom say Dad’s name in months. Finally, I forced myself to nod. “Yes. He was my dad. How - how did you know?”

“We went to college together. You’re the spitting image of him,” he said. “I was sorry to hear about him passing away. I lost my wife around two years ago as well. A brain aneurysm.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t get any easier.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed.

He looked at me for a moment longer, then back to Marshall, who was standing patiently with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked back at me briefly before taking the folder he was holding and tapped it against Marshall’s shoulder. “You know what? This can wait until tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll bring it by in the morning.” He left Walter and stopped beside me before leaving the office. “I’m very sorry about your father. Rodger was a horrible sport when he lost at cards, but other than that, he was a great guy. And probably the smartest man I ever met.”

I smiled slightly. “He was a horrible sport at cards.”

He smiled back. “The worst.” He gave me a wink. “It was a pleasure seeing you.”

“You, too.”

When he left, he closed the door behind him. I looked at Marshall as he walked towards me. “Did I interrupt something important?” I asked.

“No. He was just asking about a cold case.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in since he was here. Next time, if you’re talking to someone, would you rather I left your lunch in the break room?”

He stopped in front of me. He was so close. He smelled like coffee and Old Spice. I swallowed thickly, trying to meet his gaze as he looked down at me. He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No. I’d still like you to bring it to me, please. If that’s alright?”

“Yeah, of course. I just don’t want to get in the way of your job.”

“You won’t,” he said. “But I’ve let my job get in the way of other things for too long, so maybe it’s time someone got in the way of it for a bit.”

“You have an important job, though. If you were a boat salesman, I might feel a little differently about disrupting your work.”

His smile grew as he tilted his head at me. “A boat salesman?”

“I mean a job where it wouldn’t really matter all that much if you were distracted every once in a while. If someone doesn’t sell a boat, it’s not that big of a deal. But if you don’t solve a murder case...that has very real repercussions. I wouldn’t want to be a reason for something slipping by in a case.”

He put his hand on my cheek, directing my eyes back to his. “That won’t happen,” he said. “I take my job seriously. That’s never been a problem for me. My problem has always been figuring out how to balance it with the rest of my life, which I never could, and I neglected a lot of people because of it. Especially Faye.” He shook his head. “I’m still not good at it. But I had a case back in the winter that...put Faye’s safety in jeopardy, among other things, and it made me realize that I need to put more of an effort in my life outside of this job. Despite how hard that is for me.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “You motivate me to slow down a bit. And that’s a good thing.”

I took my free hand and placed it over his, then turned my face slightly and placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “I would be happy to slow down with you,” I whispered.

Marshall had a smile that somehow showed in his eyes more than his mouth, and that’s how he was looking at me right then. “I’d like that.”

A knock on the door startled me. I took a step back, his hand falling from my cheek. He then ran it over his face, almost like he was trying to scrub the irritation of being interrupted off it. Then he folded his arms across his chest before calling out for whoever it was to come in.

The door opened and a man stepped up to the doorway. He was wearing plain clothes like Walter, so I assumed he was a detective, too. He all but ignored me as he and Walter spoke. Half of what they said was in a jargon I didn’t understand, so I just stood there, head down, waiting. After a few minutes, the guy left, only halfway closing the door as he did. When Marshall finally turned back to me, I could see that he was frustrated. I knew he wouldn’t admit it, but me being at his work right then was only going to cause more irritation with every interruption we had.

“As much as I hate it, I should probably get back to the shop. We have a big order going out tomorrow, so there’s quite a lot to do today to prepare for it,” I said. “Plus, I have a date with a very handsome detective tonight that I want to get ready for.”

The frustration on his face seemed to melt away as he looked at me with a smirk. “Is it anyone I know?”

“Possibly. He does work in your unit.”

“Is that so?” he asked. I nodded. “Well, if I see him around, I might have to have a talk with him.”

“And what would you say?”

“I’d tell him that he better be good to you because you deserve to be treated well.”

My stomach fluttered. “You can rest assured that he treats me very well. Better than any man ever has.”

“All those other men were idiots.”

I smiled. “Maybe so.”

He shook his head. “Definitely so.” He reached out and took his lunch from my hand, then turned and placed it on a filing cabinet behind him. “Will you let me help you to your car now?”

I nodded. “Yes, please.”

He put on his coat and followed me to the break room. He pulled my dolly for me, moving it like it was as light as a child’s toy. Even when we made it to the parking lot, he didn’t seem to have any issue with the wheels fighting against him. Then he picked it up and placed it in my trunk with ease, despite how I very often fought to get it back in. I thought about telling him that he was welcome to help me anytime he wanted, but I was afraid it wouldn’t come across as a joke and he would feel obligated to actually help.

“Thank you. You made my morning a lot easier,” I said after I closed the trunk. I looked at him. “I guess I’ll see you around five-thirty?”

He nodded. “I’ll call you when I leave here, but yeah, I should be there by then,” he said. “And I promise it’ll only be the two of us and no cheap pizza.”

“To be honest, I quite liked the pizza. It didn’t taste cheap. And I really, truly didn’t mind Faye joining us, but it'll be nice to have dinner with just you tonight,” I said. “But that reminds me - I put a copy of our cookie recipe for Faye in your lunch box.”

He smiled. “Thank you. She’ll be very excited about that.”

“You’re welcome. And let her know if she has any issues with it, she can call or text me.”

The crease between his eyebrows appeared as he looked at me thoughtfully. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve made them enough times over the last year and a half to make every mistake you can with them. If she has a problem, I can probably diagnose it over the phone.”

“You don’t mind her having your number?”

I felt my facial expressions mirroring his, but from confusion. “Of course I don’t mind. As long as you’re okay with it,” I said. “Unless you think your ex-wife would mind? I don’t want to step on her toes or anything.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think Angie would mind for that purpose, and I don’t have a problem with it. But I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I don’t but I’ll leave it up to you. If you’d feel more comfortable being the middleman you can always call me for her.” I gave him a big smile. “And I can help you practice the whole talking thing. Then it’s a two birds with one stone kind of deal.”

He smiled back, nodding his head. “And if she doesn’t need help?”

“You can still call.” I shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, you don’t have to have a reason for calling. If I’m not at work, I’m usually pretty free. I may be cooking, or watching ‘The Golden Girls’ with Mom, but that’s about it,” I said. “I’m afraid you’re courting quite a socially boring person.”

He laughed. “I’m not sure if you’ve caught on, but I’m not exactly a sociable person, either,” he said. “So perhaps we make a good fit for each other.”

“Perhaps so,” I agreed. “We can be selectively social together.”

“Sounds good to me.”

I let out a sigh and watched my breath turn to steam in front of me. “I better let you get back to your paperwork and I need to go help Darcy at the store. We have over fifty loaves of bread to bake before the end of the day, so depending on when I get home, you may have to deal with your date smelling like freshly baked bread.”

He squinted slightly. “I’m not really opposed to that,” he joked with a smile that showed off the sharp ends of his canine teeth.

I laughed. “Good to know.”

He gave me a short hug, kissing my cheek as he pulled back. “I’ll see you this evening.”

“I’m looking forward to it.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Walter Marshall #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #Night Hunter #Night Hunter fan fiction #Nomis #Nomis fan fiction #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Henry Cavill fanfic #detective walter marshall #Begin Again

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softyhyunjin · 4 years

Text

ldr ⊵ bang chan

Description: Distance definitely makes the heart grow fonder.

இ genre: friends to lovers, ldr, college au, angst?, def fluff

இ pairing: chan x reader

இ word count: 12.5k

warnings?: there’s alc, and a pretty mf hot chan

a/n: @changbeanie it’s been a while ´･ᴗ･` wow, just wow

↫ i ↬

“Chan, I need to spill the tea!”

He came to a halt, setting aside his unopened One Piece mystery figures. When he looked into the camera lens, his brows knit together in a little frown.

“No Y/N, you can’t spill the tea! The tea is hot, and if you spill it, you are gonna get burned,” Chan playfully scolded you and laughed shortly after.

“I’m serious Chan,” you whined, covering your face to hide your warm cheeks. Chan laughed even more. You didn’t know whether he was laughing at you or his joke. Maybe it was both.

He calmed down and leaned back into his gaming chair. Sighing in content, he looked at you from his monitor, smiling softly. “Go ahead, tell me,” Chan said.

“Can I really?” You removed your hands from your face and rolled your eyes.

“Yes, now go!” He chuckled.

“I caught Changbin on a date with someone!”

Chan faked a gasp, “Ahhh, no way.”

“Oh, so you knew?”

“Yes, but I’d like you to finish spilling the tea.”

“That’s all I wanted to spill,” you scoffed. Of course, Chan would know about Changbin’s love life, he was close to all his friends after all. Now, your reasoning for calling him went down the drain. Useless.

Chan shrugged, “He already told me his plan to confess to his crush a while back, so I’m not surprised. Ruby, I think that’s her name? Yeah.”

“Okay, goodnight then. I’ll call you later this week if I can,” you sighed in defeat, swiping your mouse pad to hang up.

“Wait, wait, wait. Y/N, you didn’t even let me finish opening the package you sent me. Don’t you want to see who I got?” His eyes lit up at his unopened One Piece figures.

“Not really, it cost me a fortune to ship it out to you,” you spun around in your chair, faking disinterest to the birthday boy, but in reality, you wanted to stretch the call as long as you could. You really missed him.

Chan had been studying abroad in Berlin for two months. You remember him speaking to you about it and listing his options in order: Berlin, Dublin, and Paris. When you asked why he placed Berlin as his first choice, he said its nightlife attracted him the most, which isn’t surprising, considering the night owl he is. And bonus, it was cheaper than his other options.

“Should I call Woojin to watch me unbox instead, then?” He cocked his brow.

“Do you really want him to watch you unbox it?” You pouted.

“Noo, I want you to watch me. But… I guess you don’t wanna,” Bang Chan shrugged.

“Ugh, you already know I do.”

“Then why didn’t you say so in the first place?” He teased further, enjoying his ability to easily earn a reaction from you.

“Are you coming back to Sydney for Thanksgiving?” You responded with a question.

“No, it would be pointless because I have to immediately fly back to Berlin for finals. Maybe I should stay here until the 22nd of December. Besides, I’m gonna miss it here. Oh-“ He excitedly tore off the wrap of his gift, “Tony Tony Chopper. I had a feeling I would get him,” he laughed.

“Oh,” you said in a small voice but quickly hid your disappointment and smiled. “I was hoping you’d get him.”

Inside, you were pretty bummed out. Not seeing Chan for over a month was torture. Whatever you wanted to try would have to wait until he got back: the new restaurant by the mall, going on a fishing trip, and using the remaining benefits of your favorite amusement park’s season pass. Most importantly, you chose to wait for him to come home so that the two of you could binge-watch the latest season of Stranger Things.

Chan had already caught the disappointment in your voice and put down the Tony Tony Chopper figure. Propping his elbow onto the desk, he used his palm to cup his chin, leaning into the monitor. Although he was ten thousand miles away, the gesture made him feel closer to you and Sydney. “You know that’s not what I meant. I miss home, my mum’s cooking, hanging with the guys, and cuddling with Berry. I get homesick at times, but I love it here.”

“I know, I’m just bored without you. I want to go bar hopping in Sydney again,” you groaned, feeling bad for making Chan explain himself when he didn’t even need to.

“Tch, you just want to see the guys drunk call their girlfriends again.”

“Not even! I only want to see Hyunjin drunk call his girlfriend, it’s so cute when he whines to her about wanting to be the little spoon. He gets so embarrassed whenever Jisung and I show him the recordings,” you cackled like a witch.

Chan shook his head in disapproval, chuckling at your words, “Y/N, You’re so evil. Just wait until you’re the one to drunk call somebody.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll have somebody by the time you come back,” you shrugged.

“Oooh, well, do you?”

“We’ll just have to wait until the next time we go bar hopping.”

“Then, you’re gonna have to wait for another two months,” he sang through the screen, his hand reaching for the mouse to select a song on one of his Spotify playlists.

SLANDER & Said the Sky - Potions (ft. JT Roach)

“It’s going to be a long wait,” you sighed, drumming your fingers against your desk.

“Every time you said a word, I was starin' at your lips. I don't think I've ever been so close to a love like this,” he sang along before taking a pause to say, “I’ll be home before you know it.”

Shooting him with a finger gun, you suggested, “Ahah! Are drinks gonna be on you?”

“Shouldn’t you be buying? I’m the one coming home.”

You scowled. “Ask the boys because you miss them.”

“Don’t worry, I miss you too,” Chan easily confessed, bobbing his head to the drop of the bass.

↫ ii ↬

“Gobble gobble gobble!”

“Shut up, we don’t even have a turkey,” Minho said, slapping Jisung’s ass when he took up the entire couch.

Jisung scooted enough for Minho to sit and used his lap as a pillow, “Hey, I told everyone to pitch in for our lovely Friendsgiving, but nooo! So, it ain’t my problem.”

“We pitched in for beef, that’s even better,” Hyunjin said, jumping back when the meat hit the electric grill, abruptly sizzling and splattering oil onto his hand.

“Gimme that, you’re going to end up burning the meat and your hand,” Jeongin took the metal tongs from Hyunjin, increasing the temperature of the grill and adding more slices of brisket.

“Haha, who are you trying to impress? Y/N?” Woojin joked.

Seungmin killed Woojin’s joke in an instant, “No, he’s trying to practice for his crush. They went out the other day and she cooked for him the whole time.”

Changbin stole the first slice of meat from the serving tray, saying with a mouthful, “Big fat rip, dude.”

“Hello?” Felix said after picking up an incoming call from his phone. He rolled his eyes at the person speaking on the other line, “Liv, I told you to always have your wallet on you. No, I am not going to drive over to drop it off. Just stop by the house on your way to the movies.”

“Your sister left her wallet at home again?” Jisung asked.

Felix shrugged, “Yeah, she always does that. I’m not gonna drop it off to her this time. Whatever, she said she’ll be here in ten.”

You wedged yourself between Felix and Seungmin on the couch, making yourself comfortable while Felix challenged Minho on Super Smash Bros. Jisung had just finished setting up his Nintendo Switch on Felix’s TV and tossed both controllers to the first round competitors. Felix selected Dark Pit whereas Minho did the random selection and got Ness.

“Nooooo! FUCK.” Felix screeched after Minho sent his character flying off the platform. You covered your ears but laughed at Felix’s loss.

Minho smirked, nodding to his opponent, wiggling his eyebrows. “Do you want to change your fighter?”

Rolling his tongue in his mouth, Felix shook his head, “No, rematch.”

The doorbell rang. Without a glance, too absorbed into his rematch with Minho, Felix asked you to open the front gate for Olivia. You left the couch and went outside to open it for her. When you opened the wooden gate, you found Bang Chan waiting outside instead of Felix’s sister. Your mouth went agape.

“You’re back...” You said, stepping aside to let him in.

Shock was still written across your face. He gently patted his carry on before leaning in to take a look at your face. Jokingly, he said, “I take it that you’re not thrilled to see me, should I leave then?”

Seeing him in person made your heart swell. You suddenly remembered how much you missed him. Overwhelmed by his presence, your eyes began to pool with tears and just could not stop. Without blinking, a big, fat tear escaped. Wiping the stray tear with the sleeve of your hoodie, you wanted to stop crying but wound up sniffling.

Chan reached for your other arm, gently drawing small circles with his thumb. He couldn’t help but laugh as he attempted to soothe you. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?” He cooed, throwing another joke, “Maybe I should just leave…”

“No, don't.”

Although tears kept on falling, you laughed back and patted your cheeks dry with your sleeve. Chan let go of the carry-on, spreading his arms wide for only one reason. You accepted his invitation, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his torso. “Don’t worry, I missed you too. But I didn’t expect you to cry so much,” he teased.

The vibration his laughter gave off, made your insides feel warm and fuzzy. Chan smelled like fresh laundry mixed with the familiar cologne he only wore for special occasions. He rocked you side to side, and you could feel the smile spread across his face from his chuckling. You wanted to hug him even longer but a notification went off, causing both of you to pull away from each other.

It was coming from the Apple Watch gifted to him from everyone for his 21st birthday. Chan checked the notification, disregarding it when it began to spam. “Let’s go inside,” he said, patting your shoulders to make you head in first.

“Finally! What took you so long?” Felix jumped from the couch to give Chan a hug.

Chan gave a nonchalant shrug, “My mum wouldn’t stop talking. If it weren’t for Hannah and Olivia needing a ride to the mall, I would’ve gotten here much later.”

“Christopher Bang, I have been waiting for you,” Jisung swooped in, giving Chan a bear hug. Then, weakly whispered into his dear friend’s ear, “If it was any longer, I would’ve died from starvation.”

You frowned all of a sudden. “Wait, all of you guys knew he was coming back for Thanksgiving?”

“Surprise!” Felix awkwardly laughed because he knew you were going to strangle him later.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t he come back? It’s Thanksgiving,” Hyunjin walked out of the kitchen with the rest of the guys to hug Chan.

“You said you weren’t though,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Chan. He removed the black cap from his head, sheepishly running a hand through his... dark brown hair? There was no longer a strand of dirty blonde. “Oh my god, and you dyed your hair back to your natural hair color,” you gasped.

“Boy, I am starving,” he whistled, purposely ignoring your stare.

Jisung wrapped his arms around yours and Chan’s shoulders, inhaling the aroma of Seungmin’s freshly baked pies coming from the oven. “I’m so fucking stoked to eat. Let’s eat.”

↫ iii ↬ bh.pt.i ↫

Famous Dex - Japan

“Baby girl, what you doing, where your mans? I just popped a xan, fifty thousand in Japan.”

Chan sang Japan by Famous Dex, pointing to Felix once they both made eye contact. Felix quickly caught on, finishing the chorus with a strong dab, “I ain't doin' no playin', these red bottoms, not no Vans. And she tellin' all her friends, I might put 'em on the Gram, aye!”

“I don’t know you two anymore,” you cringed at the pair. Once the song was over, they started singing to Lil Uzi Vert’s ‘XO TOUR Llif3.’

“Should've saw the way she looked me in my eyes. She said baby I am not afraid to, die. Push me to the edge, all my friends are dead, push me to the edge, all my friends are dead,” they both sang, clasping each other’s hands and bobbing their heads.

“Ah shit, the Uber driver is gonna be outside in two minutes,” Felix cursed and ran upstairs to his room to grab his bomber.

“Hurry, or else we’re going to leave you!” Chan shouted towards the stairs, then, lowering his voice to tell you, “Let’s leave him.”

You rolled your eyes, and he cracked a smile.

After Thanksgiving, Chan had two and a half days left before heading back to Berlin. You wanted to spend as much time as you can with him. Not only you, but everyone else wanted to. And the perfect way to do it:

Bar hopping. (bh)

Jisung brought up the idea because he wanted to buy his friend a drink. It was a treat for Chan since he’s been away for nearly three months. But also, Jisung was anticipating to record any of Hyunjin’s embarrassing moments. For him, it was killing two birds with one stone.

“Thank you, sir, have a good one,” Chan said to the Uber driver, waving goodbye as he was the last to exit the backseat of the car.

Felix scanned the area, squinting whenever he saw anyone coming out of a shop. “Uh, we just arrived. Where are you- Oh! I see Woojin waiting in the front,” he hung up.

“I’m so hungry.” Your stomach grumbled.

“Yoooooo! Broski, over here,” Felix waved both hands in the air. The three of you approached Woojin, giving him a hug before entering the bar.

Everyone was already seated inside munching on some salted peanuts. Changbin tossed a peanut into the air, and Jisung caught it in his mouth, extending his arms in the air to gloat his victory. “Now buy me a drink,” he demanded.

“Fine,” Changbin scoffed but agreed.

Once the three of you settled down in the large booth, Woojin ordered a beer and a shot of tequila for each person. You were excited to drink but hated tequila. It was the first alcohol to ever give you a massive hangover. The taste was disgusting and a measly whiff could still trigger your gag reflexes.

“Alright, whoever finishes last needs to take another shot of tequila,” Felix snickered.

“Ugh, no,” Hyunjin groaned.

Chan leaned in to whisper into your ear, “Will you be able to handle it?”

You bumped your left shoulder against his right, “Of course, who do you think I am?”

Changbin knocked on the table, grabbing everyone’s attention. “3! 2! 1! Go!”

You chugged the beer while keeping your eyes open for the rest of the guys. Most of them started off with their shot of tequila to get it over with while you, Jisung, and Jeongin started off with beer. By the time you were halfway done with your beer, the tequila starters were beginning to touch their beers. Some were still making faces from sucking the complementary lime wedges that came with the tequila.

Finishing the last of your beer, Jisung slapped the table with his shot glass. Still sucking his like wedge, he pointed at you to hurry so you can come in second place. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, grabbing the lime wedge in one hand and the tequila shot in the other, downing it in one go. “That’s so fucking nasty,” you whined and chewed into the lime wedge.

“Done,” Changbin said, sliding his empty drinks into the center of the table.

Next, Chan burped out loud, saying, “I’m done. Excuse me.”

When everyone finished, the order came out to be: Jisung, Y/N, Changbin, Chan, Woojin, Minho, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin, Hyunjin.

“FUck, this shit. I hate bar hop… ping,” Hyunjin complained, burping in defeat.

“Bottoms up, loser,” Jisung laughed.

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” Everyone chanted, cheering when Hyunjin finished the last of the devil’s juice. Already, his face was getting red as he lazily brushed his messy bangs away from his eyes.

Even though Jeongin was second to the last place, he was eager to move on to the next round. Rubbing his hands in excitement, he asked, “So what’s next?”

↫ iii ↬ barhopping pt.ii ↫

“We are just going to take it chill this round,” Seungmin cutely laughed.

The lightweight slurred, jabbing his index finger onto Seungmin’s chest, “No, you wanted to take it chill this round.”

“He’s trying to save you,” you slapped Hyunjin’s back, “But I don’t mind taking it chill this round.”

Already tipsy and spouting out nonsense like always, Jisung called you out, “Y/N, what’s with the getup today?”

He really emphasized the makeup and your fitted black off-shoulder top with dramatic John Cena hand movements. You grew embarrassed by the sudden attention. Now, everyone’s eyes were on you, especially Bang Chan’s. Your cheeks grew warm as you blushed, but that honestly did not matter because the lighting of the second bar was dark enough to hide them.

“Jisung, they’re just falsies,” you rolled your eyes.

Hyunjin cocked an eyebrow into your direction, “My girlfriend likes to wear them when she’s going out. Are you going out with anybody?” He put his head down and burped. “Keeping seCrets huh? uGH, I miss my girlfriend.”

“Nooo, definitely not…” You sighed, “I just felt like doing something different today.”

“Is it because Chan is back?” Seungmin felt like he cracked the Da Vinci Code. Ridiculous.

“You’re ridiculous, Kim Seungmin.”

Felix intervened, lazily karate-chopping his arm into the table. Thanks to him, he saved you from making a fool of yourself. “What about me? Didn’t you know anything different about me today?” He slurred.

“You’re drunk,” Seungmin pointed out the obvious.

“No, not yet. I got a new bomber, duh. Go ahead, touch it,” Felix suggested. He grabbed Seungmin’s hand, hovering it over his jacket. Then, Felix made him caress the smooth material.

Both you and Chan burst out laughing. Then, you both turned to look at each other. When your laughter died down, you glanced at his plump lips and looked away with a sigh on yours.

Why did you go out of your own way to put on makeup and wear your silver drop earrings? The top was a gift from one of your girlfriends. It’s been sitting in your closet for ages, but still, it was something different.

The guys began to plan for the winter break agenda and Chan joined in on the conversation. He remembered the video call between you and him. It was around the time of his birthday when he unboxed the mystery One Piece figures you sent to him... Did you ever find somebody?

For a moment, there was this unsettling feeling growing inside of his chest. Yeah, why did she look differently today, is what he thought. You were never ‘ugly’ in his opinion, you were just Y/N. Whatever you choose to do shouldn't matter, so Chan did what anyone would do: He brushed it off.

Chan glanced over, feeling a little taken aback when you laughed at something Minho said about Hyunjin. Whenever he was surprised, his eyebrows did this thing where they would cutely knot upwards and his eyes would light up. But this time, it was different. Yes, he was surprised but the expression on his face grew soft immediately after you made eye contact with him.

You raised the glass of your favorite cocktail to your lips, nodding in excitement when Jisung ‘secretly’ whipped out his phone and began recording Hyunjin. Then, you broke into a playful grin while biting into the black stirring straw before sipping your drink. Yeah, he thought you were really attractive right now.

For some reason, Bang Chan felt like his body was engulfed by flames.

You raised a brow, offering him to try your drink with a smile. Chan blinked back, totally aware he was staring at you. Luckily, you weren’t and thought he was curious about your drink.

Turning down your offer, he decided to lay off on the drinking for the rest of this round. It was the alcohol causing him to feel this way, or that’s what he thought.

If not, this was going to be a big problem.

↫ iii ↬ barhopping pt.iii ↫

“Last but not least, we are going to get hammered with soju and meat,” Jisung cupped Changbin’s cheeks, then, patting them like how Asian grandmothers would select the perfect watermelons.

Before Changbin could place him into a chokehold, Jisung clumsily ran into the restaurant to request for seats. He almost ran into one of the patio heaters in the process. “Come back, you fucking squirrel!” Changbin waved his fist in the air like an old man.

He adopts a sailors’ mouth when he drinks lol.

Hyunjin had an arm draped over Woojin’s shoulders. He’s already sobered up by now. “Let’s make sure he gets hammered tonight,” he said, then, pointed a finger at you, “And Y/N.”

“I say we should go for it,” Woojin supported his friend.

Your eyes widened. “What did I do?”

“He’s still salty you sent recordings to his girlfriend,” Jeongin teased Hyunjin, his eyes effortlessly creasing into the cutest eye smile. He reminded you of a baby fox.

“I didn’t, it was Jisung. Recordings were sent from his phone,” You shrugged and stuck your tongue out when Hyunjin mimicked you.

Jisung peeked at everyone from the restaurant door and caught Seungmin’s attention first, signaling him to bring everyone inside. Seungmin said, “Let’s go, seats are ready.”

“I already picked out the meats. Now, the hardest part is choosing the soju flavor,” Jisung looked at the drinks menu with heart eyes.

Changbin took the menu from Jisung’s hands, cockily skimming through it. “Leave it to me, I know what we should stay away from.”

When the waiter came by, Changbin ended up ordering two large yogurts, two fruit-flavored, and two original soju. Seven drinks. Everyone looked at him with their jaws dropped. “You’re actually insane,” Felix said even though he was at a loss of words.

“The frat boy mentality has sprung onto him. It’s too late, we can’t save him,” Chan cried, covering his warm face, dramatically tugging it downwards with both hands.

You sighed and lay your head onto Chan’s shoulder. You were still buzzed, but it was going to be a long night. Earlier, he put his jean jacket over your shoulders when some guy walked by and gave you a whistle. You were very uncomfortable from receiving the unwanted attention coming from a sleazebag and hid behind Chan’s broad frame.

You were getting tired but still wanted to have fun. Chan’s shoulder was a muscular pillow. Your eyes glanced at the sleeve of his black T-shirt. Then, your eyes trailed down to his arm veins, his hand, and the ring on his pinky finger. It was your gift to him for his birthday this year. There was this strong urge to place your hand on top of his and flip it over so that the palm of his hand would be open for you to entwine your fingers in.

Fuck, why is he so hot?

You didn’t actually do it though, you could not bring yourself to. When you tilted your head upwards, Chan was laughing at Woojin’s disaster story about his most recent blind date. He must’ve felt your gaze on him so he stopped paying attention to the story. Chan laid his eyes on you while you blinked back in surprise with a tinge of pink on your cheeks. His eyes held your gaze momentarily before trailing down to your lips, and so did you.

You were both waiting for something to happen. The tension-

“Drinks and meat are here,” Minho excitedly cleared the table for the waiter.

Both you and Chan looked away from each other at the same time. You instantly removed your head from his shoulder, and he cleared his throat. You were both left feeling embarrassed, however, Chan also felt nervous. You, on the other hand, felt a heavyweight on top of your chest.

For this last round of bar hopping, you both avoided any sort of eye contact or slight skinship with one another. It was too risky, making a nervous wreck out of both you and Chan.

“Let’s play Truth or Drink mixed with Never Have I Ever,” Changbin said, pouring a drink into everybody’s shot glass, filling it to the brim.

Minho scoffed but enjoyed the idea, “You’re just asking for everyone to drink.”

“That’s the point.”

“Never have I ever almost joined a cult back in high school,” Jisung tsked over to his friend, snickering when Hyunjin and Jeongin downed the shot in one go.

Hyunjin went next and glared at Jisung, “Never have I ever lived in Malaysia during my childhood.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes at Hyunjin, chewing on a piece of meat after drinking his shot. “Playing like that, I see.”

“Well, you started it.”

“No, you.”

“You.”

Chan interrupted their bickering, and said, “Moving on, never have I ever… Cheated on an exam.” Everyone groaned, drinking except for him, Seungmin, and Hyunjin. Then, it was your turn.

“Er… Never have I ever blacked out from drinking,” you peeked around, raising your glass to everyone. Changbin, Woojin, Chan, Jisung, Hyunjin, and Felix all clinked their glasses together.

“Alcoholics,” Minho shook his head, eyeing each person with false disappointment written on his face.

“Shut the fuck up, you have no right. You’re the goddamn instigator,” Jisung kicked Minho’s foot under the table.

“Stop playing footsies with me.”

“Oh, I can stop whenever I want to.”

“Can I go now?” Seungmin stuck a piece of rib finger into Jisung’s mouth. Everyone gave him the go, so he suggested, “Let’s do Truth or Drink this round, and the question applies to everyone. If you were a serial killer in a movie, who would you kill first? On the count of three, point your finger to the person. 3! 2! 1!”

“Wow.” And it wasn’t hard to guess who it was.

The rest of the night went by like that, playing more rounds of Never Have I Ever and Truth or Drink. More than half of the group was drunk and Hyunjin had his head down. He already knocked out and was drooling. You were drunk too but waited for Felix to take his turn.

Propping your chin in the palm of your right hand, you felt your eyelids become heavier the longer Felix took to ask his question. Finally, he asked everyone, “What are you the most grateful for?”

“I’m the most grateful for my cats,” Minho brought up his fingers and began to list each cat, “Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. Sometimes, I get hissed at but I still love them all.”

It was Chan’s turn. “Mmm,” he thought, “I’d say, my parents, because if they never gifted me with music, I wouldn’t be CB97 right now.”

“And there wouldn’t be SPEARmint and your one and only,” Jisung sluggishly pointed to himself, groaning, “J.One.”

“It’s SPEARB,” Changbin whined, hugging Jisung.

Chan was beginning to sober up and sipped on his half-full glass of water. Getting sentimental and smiling over to his rap unit members, his ears perked up when it was your turn. You had your head and arms sprawled across the table, earning a laugh from Minho when you palmed your forehead with a disgruntled look on your face. Your head hurt, but you continued, “I am grateful for a lot of things. My dog, meeting my ultimate bias, and having you guys in my life.”

“That’s so generic, be more specific,” Minho teased.

“Lix, I’m grateful for Felix. If my dad never met his dad in their twenties, I would’ve never grown up with Lix. My dad wouldn’t have almost accidentally run over him that one time when he was running away from Rachel.”

“Huh, I remembered that day. Rachel got so mad at me for reading her diary. I mean, she did leave it on the couch,” Felix reminisced, chuckling at the memory from long ago.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a little confused with what you shared. “Shouldn’t you be grateful for your dad meeting Felix’s dad? And not Felix?”

“Sure, but it’s Felix I am most grateful for. Because without him, I would’ve never met everyone else… and Chan,” you patted Felix’s bomber with your eyes closed and expected him to feel touched by your words.

“Why say it like that? What differentiates Chan from everyone else?” Jeongin asked with a small pout on his lips. Chan wanted to know as well. He didn’t know why you paused a little before saying his name. Was he special to you in any way?

Yeah. What differentiates Chan from everyone else?

“Stop asking me, and let’s move on to Felix. It hurts to think,” you complained.

↫ iv ↬

“Oi bro, today was fun. But I’m fucking wasted,” Felix burped. He leaned his head against the door frame while intensely staring at the door handle. Concentration was key, literally. Felix needed to press the correct keys or else you, him, and Chan would be sleeping in the front yard tonight. Nobody was home.

“You good there, buddy?” Chan asked with a concerned tone.

Felix entered the correct code and the numbers on the keypad lit up blue, making him internally jumping with happiness. “Ohh hell yeah. Uh-”

Then, he pushed through the door, startling Chan as he ran through the living room and into the kitchen to hurl into the nearest trash can. Chan quickly went after Felix while still carrying you on his back. “Bro,” he cringed at the loose chunks in the trash can and rubbed Felix’s back, “Keep throwing up, it’ll definitely make you feel better. I’m gonna get you some water. Just let me take Y/N upstairs.”

Felix waved Chan off and said he’d be fine. He was going to go straight to his room afterward, change into his pajamas, and chug the huge hydro flask by his bed. It seems like Felix planned for this to happen, so Chan didn’t have to worry much.

Chan carried you upstairs to the guest room and carefully unwrapped your arms from his neck when he sat on the bed. When he let go, you hit the back of your head against the headboard and whined in pain. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“Ugh, how long have I been out for,” you said, clutching onto the back of your head.

Chan shrugged, turning around to look at you. “Just the ride back home.”

“I’m not looking forward to a hangover tomorrow.”

You expected Chan to respond but there was no reply. When you peeked one eye open, he was gone. You sighed, rolling to your side to face the window. Why did you feel so puzzled all of a sudden?

“Are you asleep?” A voice whispered from the end of the bed.

It was Chan and he had a tall glass of water in his hands. You sat up, thanking him as you took the glass and greedily drank from it. When you finished, you placed it onto the nightstand before laying on your back again.

“Am I different?” Chan suddenly asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, am I different from the others?”

You lightly shoved his arm with your foot. “Other guys? Yeah, you’re CB97.”

He shook his head. It wasn’t the answer he wanted. “No, actually, never mind,” he said, changing his mind.

You frowned and sat up. Then, you nudged his arm, bugging him to tell you, “What is it? Tell me, Bang Chan.”

When you whined, even more, he softly chuckled, facing you with a smile. The only source of light came from outside’s yard lamp through the window slits. You held in a breath when he leaned in.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

↫ v ↬

“Y/N, why are we doing this? You know I can’t bake.”

Felix frowned at the baking instructions displayed on his phone. He was having a hard time converting grams to ounces because the mixer was too disruptive. It was annoyingly loud. For the love of god, he spilled some powdered sugar onto the counter.

“I need help, Lix. It’s hard to make macarons by myself,” you huffed, blowing a strand of your bangs out of the way.

“What’s in it for me? I could be sleeping in right now,” Felix scoffed but went to the cupboard to grab sugar, salt, and almond flour.

“You get to spend quality time with me for free. Also, you can eat delicious strawberry macarons. They’re your favorite.”

He shook his head, “No, they’re Chan’s favorite. I already knew your intentions the moment you asked to come over. And, I like banana flavored.”

“What’s with you and banana?”

“Don’t you just love the way it’s pronounced? Banana,” he smiled, thinking about bananas.

Handing Felix the electric mixer, you bossed him around, enjoying every moment of it, “No, now beat the eggs with the mixer until it becomes stiff peaks,”

“Y/N, If you like Chan, it’s okay to admit it. I won’t judge you,” he said, cracking a couple eggs into a large bowl, then scooped the yolks into a smaller bowl, “But I’ll make fun of you.”

You paused whatever you were doing to ask, “Why’d you say that out of the blue? That’s odd.”

“Look,” he paused, “When have you ever went out of your way to gift homemade cookies for someone? This is cute child’s play Y/N.”

“Never. But everyone is getting a share of this batch, so I don’t know why you’re quick to assume,” you nervously shrugged. Why were you nervous? There was no reason.

“But who were you thinking of surprising when you bought the ingredients?”

You eyed the egg whites sliding off the cracked eggshells in his hand as they slowly dripped into the mixing bowl. Cringing at his sloppiness, you told him to start mixing and less talking. “Why would I like him, it’d never work out between us,” you muttered under your breath.

“Just don’t complain to me when he comes back with a girlfriend from his study abroad program,” Felix annoyingly sang, hitting the power button on the electric mixer. You felt something inside of you sort of snap.

“What?” You asked.

“You’re not the only girl he’s friends with. You know that right?”

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. You were no special exception and it somehow made you feel more hopeless. Felix knew his words must’ve triggered something so he decided to tone it down.

“As your best friend, I know when you’re into someone. This time, it’s different. You may not think you’ve liked Chan for a long time, but trust me, I know,” Felix turned down the mixer to add some sugar with the whipped egg whites, “No matter how many guys you’ve liked in the past, you’d always set them aside for Chan. You don’t do things like having late-night phone calls, binge-watching One Piece, or bake fancy cookies for anyone else. Only Chan. Admit it before I knock some sense into you, idiot. You have a soft spot for him.”

“I do not…” You said in denial, but who were you trying to convince?

“Whatever,” Felix gave up and rolled his eyes. He adjusted the speed of the electric mixer, adding the rest of the sugar into the whipped egg whites.

When Felix finished whipping the egg whites, they became stiff peaks. He removed the mixer from the bowl, distracted by the mixture’s consistency and unwillingness to budge. “Hey, Y/N,” he tapped your shoulder before holding the bowl of stiff peaks upside down above his head, “Check this out.”

“YONGBOK WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” You screamed his Korean name, hoping the mix wouldn’t fall onto his head and get on the floor.

“Look, it’s not falling hehehe,” Felix laughed, remembering how he saw something like this in a Tasty video.

You grabbed Felix’s shoulders in hopes of him putting the bowl down but then he placed it over your head and laughed. “Oh my god, if it gets in my hair, I’m gonna kill you,” you vigorously shook him.

Felix laughed and put you in a headlock, threatening to coat your face in stiff peaks. “You started it by calling me Yongbok.”

“Yongbok, Yongbokie, LEE YONGBOK,” you giggled when he locked you in tighter. His soft hoodie tickled your neck and you were scared of getting smeared with the cookie mixture.

“What are you guys doing?”

Felix dropped his arm to his side and placed the mixing bowl onto the counter. You stood up, fixing your now messy ponytail and awkwardly coughed.

Chan stood by the kitchen entrance with his arms crossed, looking somewhat displeased. You looked anywhere else but him. When you finally made eye contact with Chan, he quickly avoided it and cleared his throat. “I just came to say goodbye,” he said.

“But isn’t your flight at 5?” Felix glanced at his oven’s built-in clock, “It’s not even noon yet and you’re already leaving?”

“My parents want to have lunch with me before dropping me off at the airport. They invited my grandparents and other relatives, so it’s going to take a while.”

“Do the rest know?”

Chan nodded, “Yeah, I’m going to head back to grab my luggage after lunch, but I messaged them earlier and came to say goodbye just in case.”

Felix walked over to Chan and gave him the tightest bear hug, “Take care and stay safe. I’ll see you in a few weeks?”

“Yeah, and take care as well,” Chan smiled.

“For sure.”

When their hug was over, Felix said he needed to grab a charger from upstairs because his phone was about to die. You didn’t want to be alone with Chan because you were afraid of acting weird around him, then no one could save you. “What are you two making?” Chan nodded at the mess in the kitchen.

You shyly smiled, “Uh… Cookies? Hey Chan, are you going to stop by here again after your family lunch?”

“Maybe not, I’m not sure. I’ll call you if I do.”

“Hmmm, okay,” you nodded awkwardly, “I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks too.”

“Yeah, I’ll be back before you know it,” Chan smiled and began teasing, “Better not be a crybaby once I leave.”

You slapped his arm, “It won’t happen again, just let it gooo.”

“Hmm, nooo,” he laughed.

When Chan’s laughter died down, he stared at you with a small sigh. You were acting a little different today and he kind of had an idea as to why. He thought you sensed something unusual about his behavior, making you feel awkward towards him. He just wanted to board the plane right now and get his thoughts settled.

Chan wanted you to give him a hug like always but you refrained from doing so. By the time Felix came back down with his charger, he sensed the weird atmosphere and mouthed to you, ‘What did you do?’

You narrowed your eyes at him and Chan’s phone rang at the same time. It was Lucas on the other line, asking when his brother would be home since their grandparents would be arriving soon. Chan took that as a cue to be on his way, leaving you in the kitchen as Felix walked him out of the front door.

Felix came into the kitchen confused, “What happened when I was gone?”

“Nothing, we were just talking.”

“Do you think we’re going to finish baking these macarons by the time he leaves to the airport?” Felix scratched his head.

“I hope so,” you sighed. If you worked efficiently enough, it’s possible to finish on time.

Chan quietly sat in the back seat of the minivan with his younger siblings on the way back from the restaurant. He’d usually bug Hannah about her recent boy crushes or watch Lucas play Monster Hunter on his 3DS. This time, he stared out the window with his EarPods in. A lot was on his mind.

Chan felt sort of jealous, then stupid, then fine again. It was a cycle on his way back to the house. He knew Felix didn’t have any romantic feelings for you, but the tinge of jealousy would not leave his system. Chan let himself into the house when Felix had just finished mixing whatever. He was curious as to why Felix was up so early since his best friend tends to sleep in till noon during breaks.

When Chan heard your voice, his ears perked up like a dog. He felt excited to see you and walked into the kitchen, hoping to surprise you. Instead, Chan himself was surprised when he found Felix holding you in a headlock. You were laughing and squirming in Felix’s hold, making Chan wish he didn’t see that.

Not once have you laughed like that with Chan since he came back to visit. Chan thought you developed a crush on Felix but haven’t told him. But how could you not? You always tell Chan everything. He didn’t care if you liked someone… So what?

When they arrived home, Chan’s father pulled into the driveway. Everyone went inside to rest for a little while before sending him off to the airport. Chan still needed to go upstairs, so he could grab his things and load them into the trunk. After carrying his luggage downstairs and to the minivan, Chan popped open the trunk, halfway loading his things but stopped when his phone went off.

He picked up the call with his earphones, unaware of the person calling, “Hello?”

“H-have you left to the airport yet? Or are you still at home?” You said, heavily panting on the other line of the call.

“Y/N?” Chan asked surprised, “I’m still at home. I just got back.” He waited for you to answer but you had already hung up. “Hello? Y/N?”

“Chan!” You ran up to him, exhausted and a little sweaty. Then, you placed a hand on your waist to keep yourself up as you slowly regain your breath.

“Did you run here?”

“Yes.”

“What? Why?”

You stuck your hand into the inside of your denim jacket and fished out a decent packaged goodie bag. “I didn’t want you to leave empty-handed, so I made you these.”

You never fail to catch Chan off guard these days. He slowly unraveled the bag as if it were a delicate rose, and peeked inside to see a couple of pink macarons. Although several of them were cracked because Felix opened the oven midway into baking, causing them to deflate, there were some good ones.

“Is this what you were baking with Lix?” Chan asked. When you nodded, a smile couldn’t help but form on his lips.

“Yeah, sorry if I didn’t ask you to stay or say much. I wanted it to be a surprise,” you shyly glanced around him, hoping he’d try one of the cracked cookie sandwiches.

“Huh, I would’ve never guessed,” Chan laughed. As dumb as it sounds, he felt better knowing you were thinking of him.

You peeked into his goodie bag, “Are you going to try one?”

“Yeah, here,” he handed you one before taking a bite of his own.

You thought it was cute when Chan slowly chewed on the cookie. His eyes formed into crescents once he recognized the flavor. After finishing one macaron, he wrapped the bag, closing it and stuffed it into his pocket, “I’m saving these for when I wait to board the plane.”

“Here, eat mine,” you offered the uneaten macaron in your hand.

“You don’t like strawberries?”

“No, I do. But I know you like them more, so here,” you brought the miniature sandwich to his lips, smiling when he opened his mouth.

“Fanks, tho good,” Chan said with a mouthful.

“Ew, chew with your mouth closed.”

“Hmmm,” he swallowed the last of the macaron, “I said they’re really good, and thank you.”

Sighing in relief, you said, “Of course, I’m glad they come out burnt.”

“They came out kinda ugly though.”

You hit Chan’s bicep. “Then don’t eat them,” you held your hand out, “Return them.”

Chan laughed but reached into his pocket. Instead of handing the cookies back, he grabbed your hand and pulled you in for a hug. As his arms wrapped around your shoulders, he hugged tighter. You uncontrollably smiled, returning his hug and laughed at his sly move. Chan notices how he loves it when he’s this close to you. It makes him feel good to be around you.

He likes to do this thing where he rocks you back and forth in his arms. You remembered the first time he did it was when you were juniors in high school. You embarrassed yourself in front of a guy you liked at the time and felt down for the whole day. It wasn’t until after school where you were forced to tag along with Felix and Chan to eat pizza which made you feel better. Although you weren’t by the time you met up with them, both caught the sight of your glossy eyes.

Felix said he had to head back early because he needed to study for a bio test, but you and Chan both knew he would end up playing video games instead. Chan bought you a smoothie and walked you home since it was on the way to his. Before he let you go, he gave you a bear crushing hug, rocking you back and forth while telling you to cheer up and stop being a crybaby. His way of cheering you up always made you laugh and feel warm inside.

Chan was your big, swol teddy bear.

Fuck it, you liked him... It didn’t matter. You will deal with it later.

“Did you really think I’d give them back?” He playfully teased.

“If you did, I will never make you anything ever again. Ungrateful jerk,” you huffed, pretending to be angry.

“Nah, I’d never,” he said softly.

“When are you leaving?” You said, your voice a little muffled from being too close against his jacket.

“Pretty soon. We’re just waiting for my dad to get off his food coma.”

“Ohh okay.”

Still hugging you, Chan felt like he really needed to say it. You already know though and it wouldn’t change anything, but a strange feeling of realization hit him. As cheesy as it sounds, he wanted to give you a light kiss on your forehead. Wow, he likes you and he is finally sure of his feelings.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna miss you,” Chan took a deep breath, “I always do, so don’t be a crybaby when I leave.”

↫ vi ↬

Chan rushed back to his dorm, feeling a surge of inspiration out of nowhere. It was a pain to sit through the last half of class when he was so eager to leave. He was excited to hop on his keyboard to work on a mix.

Once he stepped into his room, he dumped his backpack onto the floor and stripped off his hoodie, tossing it onto the bed. Then, he pulled out the keyboard pad from his desk and began to set up his laptop and headphones.

It was perfect.

Chan was afraid he’d lose the beat or lyrics that came to his mind earlier, but he got it down pretty quick. Now, the hard part. He had to find a way for it to flow smoothly together. He hummed, his head bobbing to the new beat, but something was still lacking.

“Maybe if I move this here, the transitioning would be a lot better,” Chan clicked on his mouse and dragged one of the clips, inserting it into the mix. When he replayed the sound, he smiled in content.

CB97’s back, baby.

Just when he felt like he could add in another element, an incoming call interrupted his train of thought. It was from you.

He picked up the call and swiped into the clock app to check the time zone in Sydney. His eyes widened, why were you calling him 12:30 in the morning? Did something happen?

“Hello? Y/N?” Chan said to the other line.

“I’m bored,” you said.

He laughed. “Why are you calling me? Are you by yourself?”

“No,” you replied, shaking your head, “I’m with Lix, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Changbin. Eww, Lix just threw up in the bushes.”

Chan cringed at the sound of his best friend hurling on the other line. It reminded him of the last time he went bar hopping with you and everyone. Now that Chan knew you were drinking, it was obvious you were drunk too.

“Why’d you call?”

“I don’t know.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know… Hyunjin started calling his girlfriend midway through finishing his drink. Then Changbin called his to confess how much he likes her. And don’t get me started on Jisung,” you tiredly watched Jisung rub soothing circles on Felix’s back.

“What about Jisung?” Chan chuckled, urging you to continue.

“He FaceTimed his girlfriend and said he loves her and misses her even though he knows she’s going to kick his ass for getting drunk,” you sighed.

“Then what?”

“Felix didn’t have anyone to call. He only searched up Momo on google images and angrily pointed at Heechul to treat her right or else he would fly to Korea to square up,” you laughed, starting to feel a little sick too.

“What about you? Did you have anyone to call?” Chan removed himself from his desk and plopped onto his bed.

“No, only you. There’s no one else to call, I don’t like anyone else,” you said truthfully.

“Wow, so I was your last resort,” he joked.

You felt liquid courage giving you a booster. Shaking your head, you sighed deeply as you watched Felix cough up the last of his partially digested pizza. “Never, I like you too much. I didn’t call anyone else because you’re the only one I want to talk to. So, no. Not my last resort, more like my automatic first choice,” you confessed.

“Sure.”

“No, I mean it. I love you so much. I just want to hug you all day long. You have no idea how much I miss you,” you whined.

Chan’s smile faltered and his heart began to race. There’s no way you meant that, did you?

“How much did you drink?”

“Enough to feel like throwing up but not enough to actually throw up,” you groaned at the unsettling feeling in your stomach.

“Will you remember what you just said to me when you wake up tomorrow?”

“Of course. I always remember! Remember, you said I would someday drunk call somebody. Well, you were right,” you giggled.

Boy, he hoped so. Chan was shaken but couldn’t do much because you were intoxicated. If you did like him, he wanted you to confess when you’re actually sober. That way, Chan would know you were being serious.

“Who’s not wasted? Can you hand them your phone?” Chan rolled in his bed while anxiously waiting.

“Hello?” A familiar raspy voice asked.

“Hey Bin, is everyone sleeping over at someone’s house tonight?”

“Oh, hey,” Changbin said tiredly, “Yeah, we’re going to head back to Felix’s soon. Just haven’t called an Uber yet because Y/N’s been on the phone. Everyone’s phones pretty much died.”

“That’s good,” Chan mumbled to himself, “Can you do me a favor and take care of Y/N for me? Just make sure she gets into a bed and drinks a glass of water before she sleeps. She’ll be fine by the time you guys get to the house since she sobers pretty fast.”

“Honestly, you should be here. She’s been talking about you all night long, but it’s Gucci. I’m gonna take care of everyone,” Changbin nonchalantly shrugged. It was no biggie to him.

“Just keep an eye out for her and everyone else,” Chan sighed.

Changbin nodded, “Yessir. I am going to order an Uber now, I’ll talk to you later. Oh shit, Y/N just threw up.”

“What? Wait-“

Although Chan’s heart was still pounding, he figured to leave it until tomorrow when you sobered up. He couldn’t stop rolling in his bed and suddenly felt more homesick. He didn’t know whether or not he should call you first thing tomorrow after his brunch with a classmate. Or maybe he should wait for you to say something?

Either way, you drove him nuts. Both good and bad.

The next morning, you stormed downstairs to look for the person who made you go out last night. He slept on the couch, snoring lightly and draped an arm over his eyes.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” you angrily tossed one of the couch pillows at a hungover Felix.

Felix tiredly rubbed his eyes. You woke him up and he palmed every spot on the couch for his phone. “What now?” He asked.

“I should’ve never gone with you guys. I’m screwed,” you said in distress.

“You’re so LOUD, I’m TRYNA SLEEP Y/N,” Jisung crankily got up from the couch and walked into Felix’s room to join Changbin under the covers.

“What did I do?” Felix asked again.

“I should have never gone drinking last night. I fucked up everything, I can’t bear to see Chan or even talk to him again,” you said, pacing back and forth in front of the TV.

Felix laughed, “Did you drunk call him and confess?”

“I think so, something along the lines of that,” you tried to remember your exact words but brain fart.

“Oh shit,” he chuckled.

“It’s not funny,” you began tearing up, “I messed up everything. It won’t be the same anymore. I don’t want Chan to avoid and stop talking to me because of these stupid feelings.”

Alarmed with your glossy eyes, Felix jumped from the couch even though he still felt nauseous from last night. He patted your back, holding in a laugh when you blinked away some tears. You reminded him of Jeongin. “Y/N, you’re worrying over nothing. Chan’s not going to do that to you, trust me. You know, confessions don’t mean much when you’re drunk.”

Sniffling, you asked him, “What do you mean they don’t mean much when you’re drunk? There’s truth to those words.”

“Being intoxicated makes you say a lot of things you would not choose to say if you were sober. One time, I even said Changbin’s arms were hot. Can you believe that?” He scoffed.

“Yeah, I mean, they’re pretty thick.”

Felix rolled his eyes, “The point is, confessions are meaningful when you’re sober. There’s something about being fully aware of your words and having the courage to say it without having to rely on liquid courage. Your confession was most likely taken lightly. You were just letting a friend know you miss him, like a lot, but that’s it.”

“So everything will be okay?”

“Yes, so stop worrying.”

↫ vii ↬

But everything wasn’t okay.

Chan kicked off his shoes and fell into bed right after his last final. It’s been almost two weeks since he last talked to you (you drunk calling him in the middle of the day), and he felt stuck. When he sent you messages and memes, you wouldn’t respond or would leave him on read. Sometimes, it’d be a miracle if you gave him short responses. Even then, the atmosphere was off and he didn’t know how to keep initiating without the conversation being cut short.

On days like this, it’d be perfect to compose something, anything. However, Chan kept deleting newly recorded beats, dissatisfied with its quality and flow. He gave up and quit all his open programs.

Without thinking about the different time zones, Chan went on Discord. His cursor hovered over your icon before he clicked on it. It’s now or never, he thought. Chan felt his heart pounding over a simple video call. He didn’t even know if you were going to answer. It’s better to not get his hopes up.

When the server rang, he anxiously clicked open some tabs to respond to Felix and check Facebook.

“Hello?” You asked, dreading the moment he called you.

“Y/N?” Chan asked, surprised you answered. He stared at the monitor, taking in the image of you working on something in your notebook.

“Hey,” you sighed.

Chan’s brows furrowed. He grew concerned at the time of your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just tired. You know, the same thing always happening at school and work,” you lied, avoiding his stare. His gaze was still piercing through a screen.

“Doesn’t seem like it. You usually talk about school and work, but you haven’t been doing so lately. Let alone at all,” Chan sadly stared at the screen as you pretended to be writing something important down.

“Sorry, I’ve been pretty stressed lately. I haven’t had the time to talk or call,” you apologized, feeding him another lie. Oh, but he knew you were avoiding him.

“You should’ve sent me a message or called me at least. It’s better to talk about it, Y/N. Keeping worries to yourself only make matters worse.”

“I’ll try to.”

Fed up with the tension, Chan frustratedly combed his hair with his fingers, “Cut the bullshit Y/N. I know you’ve been ignoring me. If it’s about that night you drunk called me, I’ll drop it. I know you don’t do homework at this time, especially on a Friday night.”

You dropped your pencil and stayed silent. Chan could only do so much on a screen. He stared at you, waiting for you to respond. It was dead silent because you could hear his hallmates talking in a foreign language as they passed by his door.

“Are you really not going to say anything?”

Finally looking up, you wiped off the tears that fell down to your cheeks, sighing. Chan sat up in his chair, worried he messed up. He thought you were going to end the call but held in a breath when you said, “What am I supposed to say? That, I’m sorry for having feelings for you? You say you can easily drop it, but I can’t.”

Chan let his hand cover his mouth, trying to hide his troubled expression. “Who said it was easy to drop it?”

“It’s not, but I screwed up… You’re aware of my feelings towards you. I can still remember that night’s conversation, and I know you do as well,” you covered your face, you didn’t want him to see you crying and looking like Rudolph, “It’s just going to be awkward for us the next time we’ll see each other. Everyone will sense it too. You’ll end up avoiding me.”

“Why do you say that? How can I avoid you? I’ve known you for years. That’s the least of your worries,” Chan said, frowning at your reasoning. He was utterly baffled.

You slammed your palms onto the desk. “How is that the least of my worries? I like you more than a friend would, Chan. I have feelings for you, but I feel like I’m on the verge of losing one of the closest people in my life, you.”

You were both practically raising your voices on each other.

He frustratedly started off strong, “What if you said those words to me when you were drunk but don’t actually mean it when you’re sober,” but finished in a small voice, “Then what?”

“But that didn’t happen, so there’s no point in bringing up another possibility,” you softly said.

“So what? Are you going to take back what you said? Because you can’t.”

Your heart dropped, and you wanted to bawl. “W-what?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized and ended the call.

You shut off your laptop and sat in your chair crying. When you got into bed, you curled into a ball with a tissue box beside you. You felt horrible. Everything was a mess. After going through twenty-something tissues, the mini trash can by your desk was filled with snot balls and evaporated tears. Exhausted and too tired to cry anymore, your eyelids slowly dropped until a notification popped up on the screen of your phone.

It was a Surprise LIVE! from Monsta X.

You chucked your phone away and it fell off the bed and onto the wooden floor. As if you cared about watching them live right now. If your ultimate bias couldn’t cheer you up with his smile, nothing could.

You retrieved your phone to find a message from Chan. He only sent you a link directing you to Spotify playlist titled:

↫ viii ↬ “I’m back and you didn’t even come with Lix to the airport to come to get me? I’m so hurt,” Chan pretended to be offended. He placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurt as you laughed at his attempt to be petty. Afterward, he excused himself to change into a more comfortable outfit and muted you on Discord.

When Chan finally unmuted the call, you blew a raspberry and stuck your tongue out at the camera. “I couldn’t, I was out of town. I just got back an hour ago,” you yawned, stretching your arms into the air. Then you spun around in your chair, coming to a complete stop when you saw him wearing a new sweatshirt.

“I knowww,” Chan dragged, taking a seat in front of his monitor again, “I’m surprised I’m not that jet lag.”

“It’ll catch up to you, trust me,” you rolled your eyes at the memory of your own jet lag experience. It was horrible. “Is that new? The quality looks expensive, what’s it made of?” You asked about his sweatshirt.

Chan touched the black fabric, pinching it between his fingers to emphasize his next words, “You can say it’s… boyfriend material…” He shyly laughed when you palmed your face at his cheesy joke, but you were laughing too. “I’M JOKING, ENOUGH,” he smiled.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing that, Chan,” you teased.

He looked down at his sweatshirt, searching for any flaws. “Why? Does it look ugly on me?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head, “You’re a fraud.”

“For what?”

“As much as you’re wearing something that’s boyfriend material, are you boyfriend material?” You teased him again as he could only smile back at you. He took your hint pretty well.

Chan pretended to shrug and spun in his chair. He briefly stared at the ceiling, thinking of what to say next. When Chan looked into the lens, he chuckled softly, “Can I? Or shall I?”

“Can you what?” You didn’t get it.

“Be your boyfriend.”

You blushed and fell silent. Chan wiggled his eyebrows, feeling like he won this time. It was your turn to get teased by him. He was about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Ask me again in person,” you looked away from the screen of your laptop to hide your warm cheeks.

“Can I? Or shall I?”

“What?”

“Come over now,” Chan eagerly suggested.

It was obvious that he was super excited and wanted to see you in person. He was like a kid on a sugar high.

“Can I? Or shall I?”

When his joke was being repeated by someone else other than him, you, he tilted his head in confusion. “What?” He asked.

“Can I? Or shall I? Be your girlfriend.”

Bang Chan didn’t even have to think twice. “Yes.”

“Well, come on and get over here then,” you laughed.

“Be there in fifteen.”

↫ ix ↬

“Wow, that movie is so good. It’s the best one I’ve seen all year long,” Chan gushed as you searched for places to grab a quick drink before going home.

You both had just finished watching Parasite, a movie about a lower class family benefiting from a wealthy family. From the trailers you’ve watched with Chan, you both thought it was going to be some kind of horror movie. However, the plot was totally unexpected and kept you on your toes.

Chan paid attention to the road but felt your eyes land on him. You smiled, adding on to what he was probably going to say next, “I’d say it deserves a ten out of ten from me.”

You navigated him to the nearest boba shop. To Chan’s luck, he found an open parking spot a few shops away from the place. When you got out of the car, the strong breeze hit your face, causing you to scrunch your nose. Chan noticed, so he put your hood on and tightly pulled onto the strings of your hoodie. You squealed, leaning away as he laughed.

As you kept walking, you were tired of having your hand brush against his. So, you took his hand into yours, slowly entwining your fingers with his while holding them up to show him. Chan covered his face because he found you so cute. He wanted to give you a hug.

“Can I see your wallet?” Chan asked.

You didn’t know why but you gave it to him anyway. You were fine with it since he’s already seen your cringy IDs since high school. “Why, what are you going to do with it?”

He ignored your question and approached the cashier, leaving you in the booth by yourself, asking, “Hi, can I get two roasted rice milk teas? Yeah, and with boba too.”

Then, Chan brought his phone out of his pocket, using Apple Pay as you stood there in disbelief. He walked back to the booth, taking your hand in his and returned your wallet. “Wow, you’re sly,” you slapped his hand away.

Chan chuckled, playing with the order number at his fingertips, “You can pay next time.”

“Oh, I will,” you stuck your tongue out.

Once your drinks were out, Chan drove you back to your place. You sat in the car with him, getting nervous when he turned off the engine. “Do you wanna… “ He threw in a suggestion.

You didn’t even let him finish. “W-wanna what?”

Chan held back a small laugh, “I was wondering,” and he paused, “If you wanted to take a stroll around the neighborhood before we call it a night.”

You wanted to repeatedly slap your forehead for having inappropriate thoughts in the first place. When you didn’t give Chan an answer, he threw in another suggestion. “Unless it’s too cold outside, we can go back to my place and hang out with Berry,” he shrugged.

Your eyes lit up at the mention of Berry. Your love for dogs was the same as it was for boba, and you excitedly nodded. Chan shook his head and rolled eyes his at your childlike reaction. He started his car again, reversing to give him some leeway and drove into the streets. His place wasn’t far from yours, it was only a five-minute drive and a fifteen-minute walk.

After parking his car into the driveway, you bolted out of your seat and waited for him to catch up to you at the door. Chan teased you for being more excited to see Berry instead of him. When you said, ‘Of course,’ he stopped in the middle of unlocking the door and raised an eyebrow.

Chan leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You can find your own ride back home, then.”

He bit his lip to prevent a smile from forming on his lips when you linked your arms with his, saying ‘sorry’ while begging him to drive you back home later. Of course, Chan was going to take you back. He wanted to make sure you were heading into your house safe and sound. When he finally unlocked the door, Berry woke up and shook herself before approaching the familiar scent of her owner. You heard small footsteps and the bell of her collar tinkling as she walked up to you and Chan.

He petted her head, giving it a quick scratch before kicking his shoes off. You crouched down to pet Berry while she heavily sniffed your ankles and socks. There was a dog scent coming from you because you have a dog back at home too.

Chan flipped on the lights and went to the kitchen to dump his empty drink into the motion sensor trash bin. When he walked into the living room, you had Berry laying flat on your chest and stomach. Her head pointed towards you and she cutely blinked, slowly beginning to fall asleep until Chan sat next to you.

She got up, edging herself between you two and laid on her stomach, waiting for Chan to give her a belly rub. As he rubbed her belly, you looked around the living room and noticed the house was quiet. “Where’s everybody?” You asked.

“Hannah’s at a sleepover and Lucas went with my parents to see a show. So I guess it’s just you and me.”

“Oh.”

“Wanna see what I’ve been working on?”

“Sure,” you nodded, feeling nervous again. Chan carried Berry back to her doggie bed by the fireplace, giving her one last pet before heading upstairs with you. When you walked into his room, you rolled your eyes at the giant monitors on his desk. Chan turned on his computer, satisfied with its smooth powering up, and typed in his password when the login appeared onto the screen.

Distracted by his light-up keyboard and mouse, you weren’t aware of him asking you to have a seat on his bed. Chan shook his head, handing you the mouse. “Go for it,” he offered you to change the color of his setup.

When you handed back the mouse, Chan searched for a folder titled: CB97 and clicked on a file that opened into an audio clip. He played it for you, a soft smile appearing on his lips when you bobbed to the beat. “Do you have a name for this song in the making?”

“I’m thinking of… Hoodie Season?”

“I like that title,” you fell onto the bed as he played more clips for you to hear. When your eyelids were slowly beginning to droop, both yours and Chan’s phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat notification from Hyunjin.

You reached into your butt pocket, whipping out your phone to take a look at whatever irrelevant thing Hyunjin would send to you at this time. When you opened his message, it was a recorded memory from a couple weeks back.

“Yo, I’m sick as fuuu-“ Felix hyped himself until he threw up into the nearest bush outside of the local bar. Thank god the snap ended before you could see anything coming out, but it was still fun to watch.

You giggled and pressed onto the next video.

“I miss you, I love you, and I know you’re going to kick my ass when you see me tomorrow,” Jisung whined to his girlfriend on the phone, “If you kick my ass, you will regret it. Then, you won’t have a nice ass to look at and touch anymore.”

Then the camera pointed at you. “You’re so gross,” you fake gagged and took out your own phone to dial your crush, “God, I miss Chan.”

Before you could finish watching the whole thing, you internally screamed inside your head and quickly skipped that part. “What was that?” Chan asked, plopping onto the bed to watch the video when he heard his name being said out loud.

You immediately chucked the screen away, facing it down onto the bed, “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Chan said, trying to peer over your shoulder.

Shaking your head, you tried to roll away, but he wrapped an arm around your waist, reaching for your phone with his free hand. You pleaded for him to not look, and he did exactly the opposite.

Chan watched your drunk self confessing to him on the phone from that night. No matter how hard you’d try to wriggle out of his grasp and steal your phone back, he was too strong for you to do so. When the part where you handed your phone to Changbin came up, Hyunjin flipped the camera back to selfie mode to display his face.

Hyunjin drunkenly pointed his index finger at the camera, trying to prove a point. “And that’s how you get back at Jisung and Y/N.” Several moments later, his eyes widened, “OH My GOD, Y/N.”

You guessed the recording ended when you threw up. Not a good memory.

Your mouth went agape. Hyunjin did both you and Jisung dirty.

“I’m going to kill him,” you said, clenching your fist.

“And I’m going to screen record that from my phone,” Chan laughed, extending his arm to the desk for his phone until you pushed his shoulders back down. He landed onto the bed with a light thud, wrapping his arms around your waist again. Chan stared at your flushed cheeks, softly chuckling at your persistence to prevent him from watching your most embarrassing moment in life once more.

You glanced down to his lips, admiring his prominent cupid’s bow and held in a breath. Chan stared into your eyes, his eyes trailing down your nose, and then to your lips lovingly. Grinning like a fool, he was happy to have you as his and in his arms. Chan bit his lip, stopping the softest smile from spreading across his lips. He knew he failed to keep his cool. While his grip on your waist loosened, he brought a hand to your cheek, gently cupping it with his smooth palm.

Chan leaned in, a small smirk quirking at the corner of his lips when you nervously gulped. You didn’t even have time to think because his lips were suddenly on yours. Chan pressed on slowly, grabbing your thigh to hitch you closer to him. You fluttered your eyes shut, savoring the taste of his lips as he took control. Chan loved the feeling of having your hands run down from his shoulders and to his chest. He’s honestly the master of the teasing game, lightly nipping at your bottom lip and flicking his tongue at the entrance of your mouth. Before he could deepen the kiss, he flipped you over, so that you’d be lying under him instead. Chan didn’t know where the night would take him and you didn’t either.

But it is what it is, so he made sure to lock the door, just in case.

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