#i left. and my boss told me it would probably be around december that he could realistically make the proposal and know the answer is going | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghostwriter2203 · 1 year

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Chapter 7, Stuck In New York, Part 1

( A/n: Get little spicy in this chapter towards the end of it...with gif in it...you've been warn. )

Dani is staring up at the ceiling in her room in the hotel and dealing with the emotions that she can't describe or even express to Jess, Jeffrey, and even Norman. She closes her eyes for a second, takes a deep breath, and then sits up and grabs her journal from the nightstand. Journaling has been helping with writing down all her thoughts, and her mental health is much better now. Dani gets comfortable on the bed and begins to journal.

Jess and I are stuck in New York because of what's happening, and finding a lot more about Zoey and Billy's relationship, Chole's family might have a connection with the mafia. So they hacked our computers and passports too. We let Jeffrey and Norman know of what's gonna on and also let them know that they're gonna have to help us out because there are some things we can't do. She and I must be careful of what we do in public, as someone might be looking for us.

I am scared about this and don't want to die at all. This is the worst December ever, and I wanted a good one, but nope. Jeffrey told us to be safe and don't any stupid.

My phone starts to ring as I answer it, " Hello?'' I ask as I hear a chuckle " Hey, princess, how are you feeling?" I smiled when I heard Norman's voice coming through the phone. " Not so good," I answered and felt my cheeks burn up. " Didn't I tell you not to call me that?'' he laughs " Yes, you did, and I ignored it," he says, grinning, and I could tell that he is amused by this.

Am I glad to hear his voice?

Norman's voice makes me feel calm inside and helps me take my mind off what's happening. " why, though?" He moves around and gets comfortable with something." Because that nickname makes you blush when I call you that." He tells me as I blush more. " You are right about that," I mumble, " What was that?'' I panic a little bit then I tell myself to calm down. " It's nothing," I say softly and play with the string of my shoelace. " Isn't it bad for me to miss you?" he asked as I got confused by that, " Why wouldn't it be bad for you to miss me?" I questioned him and heard him let out a sigh. " Do you miss me of how much I miss you?''

I stayed silent and gonna into my thoughts about this. Why do I miss being around Norman? His voice makes me feel calm and keeps me from gonna into a panic attack. I blushed when he called me nicknames, and we will get to know each other when this is all over....so am I slowly falling in love?

Yet, I am scared of letting that happen and don't know if I can let another person see my broken side. Norman wouldn't like it and will he stay with me? Through the tough times when I feel sad and not like my body? He makes my heart beat so much, yet I am scared of letting him in my heart.

No, I can't let anyone see me like that....don't want them to see me broken and sad. I have a past that I don't want to talk about or even want to remember it. It was hard for me to move on from what happened when I was a child. A knock got my attention. I looked at the door to see Jess standing there, " I got to order some food for us." I blinked and realized that I had hung up on Norman without even noticing I did. " Oh, from what place?" she gives me concern. " You alright?" I avoided the question and stood up, telling her I would shower.

Jess left my room, and I took a shower to help me with my mind.

--------------- Meanwhile, with Jeffrey and Norman-------------

Jeffrey POV

I am worried about jess and Dani's safety, and now we are gonna put our research on the boss for a while until the girls come home. Norman was stressed about it until the boss called us in, and it isn't good to get called by a mafia leader. We are sitting in his office with his bodyguard Enzo standing near the door with no emotion but a severe face. He's always wearing a mask and doesn't say a word or even make eye contact. He is an exciting person and probably has a mysterious past.

When he entered the room with a serious, he sat down in his armchair. " So I've heard some news about the two girls you two hang out with each other. " Norman and I shared a concern, then back at him, " What news?" Norman questioned him. '' That they're trying to solve the mysterious murder case of that one family, and now they're trapped in New York." He answered him as he cleared his throat. " How do you know that they're trapped in New York?" he grins " I've my ways. " he lined back in his chair.

I got more worried about this, but I hid that emotion deep down. " Now boys, you know I don't like people lying to me, and if they do..well, they aren't gonna be seen again, and I don't want that to happen to you," he peace as he took a sip of his whisky then set it back down on his desk. " I got people who know things you aren't telling me and how you are gonna betray me while trying to get out of here," he says calmly.

" We will never do that." Norman protest as the boss chuckles and slams his fist down on the desk hard, making them both jump a little. " Don't lie to me!" he shouted as he glared at them both, " We aren't lying to you," I said as he looked at us, then he grinned more and nodded towards Enzo. " I think It's time for you two to go to the red room and see the doctor there." that's when the panic sets in the both of them. Enzo grabs Norman's arm while Asher enters the room and grabs my arm.

" No...Not the red room!"

" Too late."

The Boss POV

I watched Asher and Enzo drag those two out of my office and smiled when I heard them screaming in a pleading tone. It brings me so much joy to listen to that. Then I heard high heels walking towards my office, stood up from my chair, and looked out the window to see the city that would be mine soon. " You know, you can't be standing there and acting like you hardly don't anything here." a young woman says as I turn around to face her.

" Baby, I do things here, and you're lucky to be alive from what you did. Besides, your husband doesn't know what you've been doing behind his back with the things we're testing." As she narrows her eyes at me, I tell her, " Don't you fucking bring him into this. You and I had an agreement." I smirked and grabbed her chin. " I remember the agreement but can't work without getting some love from my future queen.'' She rolled her eyes and kissed my lips with her soft lips.

I pulled her close to my body, and my hands went to her ass and I grasped as she slipped a moan in the kiss, which made me want to go crazy. I pushed her against the wall as I fell my tongue in her mouth, and she pushed me away. " That's enough. You don't get the reward unless you earn it. " She says playfully as I let my hands rest on her hips.

" Oh, I do earn it, sweetheart." she chuckles and pushes me away with her hand on my chest. " I don't think you do, my love. Not til he is dead for good." I groaned and held her close to my body. " I know there are setbacks for this to work," I peck her neck with soft kisses.

" Setbacks? What do you mean by that?" she cupped my checks and made me look into her blue eyes. '' These two girls are trying the case about what happened. " I tell as she stares at me, shocked. " No, don't let them solve this case and do anything to make them not solve it before they find out the truth." I nodded, and we continued to hold each other in my office.

" They won't ever solve it."

" how would you know?"

" Because this case has too many potential implications and issues. "

" rights.."

" And the lies too. "

" You mean the lies that you've made me do. "

" hun, but you did come to me first. "

" ..."

" you know I am right, so don't worry about a thing."

" But you've been wrong in ways before. "

" Yes, but-"

" So I have the right to be worried about this." He let out a sighed and nodded his head, " fine, you can be worried all you want but I think we can have little bit of fun~" he gentle moved her hips to his lap as she straggle his lap with her cloth clit touch his cloth cock as she slowly teased in which he let out a low groaned.

She has already took off her skirt, she only has panties as he made her stand back up then he made her undressed them both. They're both naked underneath, she ride him slowly and teasing him.

" fuck...yes, baby girl~"

" mhm..."

" go faster "

" no."

Charlie growled as he thrusts up as she let out a loud moaned, and her hands goes to his shoulders when she matches his thrusts. They both begins to thrust together as he kissed her mouth passionately, as he sneaky his hand to her clit, rubbing it with his thumb. She let out few whimpers and kissing his mouths as she feels like that she is getting close, " fuck.." thrust " sir..." thrust " babygirl~" thrust, and thrust " I'm so close!" He kisses her neck and gives her some hickeys.

" cum." She did cum over his cock as he cum inside of her, and they panting heavily and holding each other arms.

#fanfic #jdmorgan #jeffrey dean morgan #murder mystery #norman reedus #wattpad #writeblr

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

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Inevitable (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 6.9k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: Couldn’t stop thinking about how Yang Jungwon’s role model is Jungkook and they have similar features (especially as kids) and the sweetest smiles! Hence, the little angel we have here. I hope you enjoy this first chapter! Also, you can message me if you want to be part of the taglist!

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You stare at the grocery list, eyes squinting to try to read the words you’d half-mindedly written down this morning.

Your boss convinced you to take Friday off when it slipped that Jungwon has been having separation anxiety lately, as he hasn’t spent time with his mother this whole winter break.

You’d been doing overtime - on weekdays and weekends - and your boss, a mother herself, knows that overworking would take its toll on you and your son, especially as a single parent. It’s why you’re here now, grocery shopping with the little one, something he enjoys doing with you, too.

Still, it’s just one day and it’s not really enough to compensate for all the other days you work your ass off at the company, but the pay is good and the people are kind; those have been enough for you to stay the past two years.

A smile forms on your face once you decipher the crooked words on the piece of paper you’re holding up. You can make out the word ‘banana’ right before ‘milk,’ ‘choc’ somewhere near ‘ice cream,’ and ‘bron’ just next to ‘cereal.’ Brown cereal? Did he mean cocoa pops?

Jungwon has improved his writing and vocabulary and you pat yourself on the back for the times you’d forced yourself awake during your Sunday rest time just so you could guide him on his workbook. You congratulate yourself for thinking of showing him flash cards while he scrubs himself in the makeshift tub during bath time. And you thank the heavens for your best friend Taehyung’s bright idea of setting up a blackboard on the wall on Jungwon’s side of the bed so he can doodle until he falls asleep.

“Am I not the best uncle, muffin?” Taehyung had asked the little one then, who always knew what to answer.

“You and uncle Joonie are the best,” Jungwon had said.

Your kid is a ball of fluff, you’d almost think it’s genetic because you definitely are not one, but the other half of him is.

You brush away that thought before your chest begins to tighten. You choose to think that Tae and your older brother Namjoon, whom Jungwon spends the most time with apart from you, are true softies and he’d definitely gotten it from them.

You’re still smiling, insides warming enough to brave through the January cold until you realize that you’re no longer hearing your son’s buzzing sound that he does when he plays with his airplane. For all his softness, he does give you a heart attack every once in a while because of his tendency to scurry somewhere that piques his interest. It was probably the aisle that had those chocolates he wanted so you pick up your basket and rush to the one right next to where you are.

Your heart drops to the floor at the sight of your son standing in front of a man who’s crouching down, tinkering with the toy. It probably disassembled again and this does not earn you a pat on the back this time for forgetting to buy Jungwon a new one that’s more age-appropriate, and for not paying enough attention.

You’re partly shocked and partly curious - he’s a shy kid, tends to run back to you at the sight of an unfamiliar person, wide eyes usually on full display when someone tries to get his attention.

But not right now. He’s still wide-eyed but he’s sporting a shy smile, one he tries to suppress by biting his lower lip. Wonder where he got that from. Such mannerisms aren’t genetic too, right?

The mystery man hands him the toy airplane, which Jungown clutches to his chest. He bows at the man and whispers a ‘thank you.’ If that man wanted to do something bad, he would’ve taken Jungwon already but he hasn’t. You’re glad that at least a kind man has found your son.

“Jungwon, sweetie. Come here, please,” you call out, moving a bit to try to get the man’s attention to express your thanks but he’s sporting a hoodie that’s engulfing his face. Maybe you should’ve been more scared.

The stranger shakily stands up and turns as Jungown runs to you with his eyes not leaving his little toy.

Your eyes, on the other hand, can’t leave the figure standing just a few feet away from you, like a bad dream but that isn’t exactly a nightmare.

He’s here. He’s home. And he looks just as gorgeous as you remember - expressive onyx eyes, pretty thin lips, defined jawline, muscular build...

His own eyes move from you to the kid next to you, trying to come up with explanations, mind reeling at what this could mean. You sounded so tender, so loving, so… motherly.

“Jung—”

“Your—”

You both say at the same time. His eyes are fixated on Jungwon, probably trying to figure out who the child is to you.

“I’m babysitting,” you panic.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow and just as he’s about to open his mouth to say something, Jungwon decides to not be shy in front of a supposed stranger.

“Mama, that man fixed my plane!” He excitedly says, and you hate to crush his little moment of joy.

Jungkook’s eyes are now saucer-like, not at all minding that you were caught in a lie but that you, the woman who’d broken his heart all those years ago, have a child. A child whose eyes uncannily and painfully resemble his.

You and Jungkook both seem to be in a daze, your own thoughts swirling in your heads at the situation that neither expected would happen.

You stopped watching his baseball games about two years ago and had avoided whatever news about him would come up. Except recently when you’d heard about him possibly signing with a South Korean baseball team. Looks like did because he’s here, and he hasn’t been in years.

You’d heard from your brother that Jungkook had been doing well with the LA Dodgers and you hadn’t expected that he’d up and leave what had been his home the past four or so years to, well, come home. You’re glad he is but you also aren’t prepared for this.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had tried his best to forget about you soon after you walked out on him that December evening, almost succeeding multiple times until he gave up altogether. He came home last week, earlier than what he’d told the media, since he knew they’d be hampering him about his homecoming, given his recent signing with the Doosan Bears, one of Seoul’s professional baseball teams.

He’d spent the past few days in Busan to visit his mother and arrived from his 4-hour drive just an hour ago. He’d hoped to reach out or run into you but didn’t expect it to actually happen today. He definitely didn’t expect you’d have a son, too.

“Mama, did you get my banana milk?” Jungwon asks, breaking the bubble of confusion and shock between you and Jungkook, both unbelieving at the reality of you finally being in the same space, breathing the same air after so long.

“Yeah, I—” you start, placing the basket down and picking up your son, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Your mind is a puddle of thoughts and you just know that incoherent words will escape your mouth if you don’t leave right now so you make a run for it, or at least try. You walk briskly, clutching Jungwon tightly with his arms wrapped around your neck, so you don’t see him smiling at the man following both of you.

Jungkook calls out your name, prompting Jungwon to state that the man who’d fixed his plane knows his mother.

There are more people with their pushcarts near the exit, making it hard for your quick escape. Jungkook is catching up and upon realizing you won’t turn back to acknowledge him, he talks to Jungwon instead.

“How old are you, buddy?” Jungkook asks, legs clearly made for this. He’s panting though, you can hear it in his voice.

You can’t make a scene so you just try to walk faster.

You feel Jungwon release an arm and you know he’s putting out the ‘four’ sign, something he likes to do.

“When is your birthday?” Jungkook asks shortly after.

Oh god, you think. Jungwon loves this question. “July 6!” He exclaims.

The footsteps become faint and you’re brave enough to turn back as you near the exit doors. Jungkook stands there, dots connecting, mouth agape at what this means.

You leave the supermarket and run to your car, hurriedly placing Jungwon on the car seat and driving away, willing the tears not to fall.

“Who was that, Mama?” He innocently asks.

You admit that you’d thought about the day you’d see Jungkook and let him know about the little one too many times, but this isn’t how you planned it to happen - in public, when you’re incredibly tired, and when you haven’t thought about what you’d say.

This isn’t how you planned on telling Jungwon, too, so you tell a half-truth, like what you’d done a few times before.

“He’s a friend, sweetcheeks. He’s just a friend.”

The tears eventually fall about 5 hours later.

You got home from the grocery - without your groceries, watched cartoons with Jungwon, had food delivered, then prepared him for bed.

You’re now sat on your couch, wine glass in hand, as you try to make sense of the overwhelming emotions of seeing the man that was once your world. Technically, Jungkook still is, considering that your son is half of him.

But it’s different now. Too much has changed since you broke up with him, since he left 5 years ago to chase his dreams of playing for the Major League Baseball in the US, the dream he’d shared with his father, the dream he’d spent his whole life chasing.

Baseball had always been Jungkook’s world; a given, you always thought, since his own father was a baseball star himself, whose dream of playing for the MLB materialized during a trip to Boston as a teenager, the blinding lights and massiveness of Fenway Park and the roars of the crowd cheering for the Red Sox so alluring that he’d made it a point to watch a live game at least once a year.

His own career as a professional player for the South Korean league had been commendable, leading his teams to championships and even playing for the 1996 Olympics. That had been the second best experience of his life, the first being Jungkook’s birth two years prior. Marrying his wife was a close third, and it was something the pair always laughed about. You know this because Jungkook raved about his parents a lot, used to talk about them like he just lived next door to his mother - whom he called everyday, like his father was still alive.

His father didn’t have the luxury of getting scouted by American teams because baseball wasn’t as big then, but his dream of playing for the MLB never faded. Just like what his own father had done, he’d taken Jungkook to a live game every year since Jungkook was six, and tried to watch in every baseball park of every major league team.

They’d only make it to seven though. By that time, the cancer had been debilitating and he had to give up that annual date with his only child. Watching the Lotte Giants in their hometown of Busan had been enough for 13-year old Jungkook, who’d likewise been fascinated by the game, so was waking up in the wee hours of the morning to still catch MLB games on TV.

Jungkook was 14 when his old man passed.

He rarely talked about his father’s death. He also rarely talked about his father outside of baseball. He was a father-coach, Jungkook used to say, not the scary, stage father type who pressured him but the incredibly supportive, only slightly critical one. He’d made Jungkook fall in love with baseball, made him have a reason to wake up everyday, made him have something work hard for, fight for.

After he passed, baseball became something Jungkook hung onto, something he used to remind him of the man that made him who he is today. It became the most sacred part of himself, not for the popularity it gained him nor the praises he received, but because it showed the best parts of him, which were also the best parts of his father - his self-confidence, his tenacity, his grit, and his resolve, his passion for his craft.

Baseball taught Jungkook the value of hard work, of commitment, of focus, while at the same time reminding him of his physical capabilities and limitations.

It’s why he took his Sports Science course seriously, knowing that until his last breath, he would live for the sport. He’d play until he’s physically able, and do everything else when he can’t.

Jungkook had always been a good leader - another trait he got from his father, served as the pillar of strength of every team he’d been a part of because of his vulnerability that allowed others to trust him, to believe him.

His self-confidence may border on arrogance, his forcefulness and intensity may be perceived as aggression, but behind his intimidating aura on the field - partly personality, partly physical prowess - is a tender human being who gets excited over sweets, gushes over Ironman merchandise, likes making blanket forts, squeals over baby animals, enjoys bear hugs, and who just loves to love.

Those were what made you fall for him in the first place. They were what made your naturally cold exterior dissolve until your heart had become bare for him, until your insecurities had become insignificant, until you’d exuded almost the same joy that he had.

Seeing him today just brought the memories back, as if nothing has changed with what you felt for him, as if the pain you felt when you told him it was over, when you walked out and he let you, was just a breath away.

You didn’t realize just how much you missed him until you saw him again, until his proximity reminded you how his laugh used to sound, how his wide eyes and sweet smile looked like, how his sensual touches used to feel.

The tears fall again. That pain, that love - it’s like they never went away.

“Uncle Tete!” Jungwon squeals as your best friend picks up your son from the floor, swinging him around in a circle, soft laughter reverberating through the walls of your cozy apartment. It only takes a few rounds before Taehyung puts him down and complains that his arms already hurt.

“What happened to working on arm exercises?” You chuckle.

“Don’t remind me, you know I hate lifting weights. Plus, like that would make much of a difference,” he exclaims, slim arms out, being swallowed by his sweater. “I’m not an athlete, you know?”

You flinch at the comment and so does he.

“Sorry, too soon?”

“Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes and settling in the kitchen, a bit farther away from Jungwon, whose eyes are now fixated on the TV.

“Hey, I wouldn’t have known Jungkook was back if he hadn’t decided to revive our group chat yesterday after 2 years to ask everyone if they’ve seen you recently because you apparently have a kid and he believes he’s the father.”

“Pretty straightforward, huh?”

“He didn’t wanna waste time. Didn’t even care that your brother is in the same group,” Taehyung shrugs.

“Probably knows Namjoon won’t check.”

“True. But still, how bold of your ex.”

“What did the guys say?” You ask, curious if they ever caught on. Your twice a year appearance since college graduation seemed to be enough for them.

“Yoongi cursed. Jin spammed with theories because he’s convinced you haven’t had a boyfriend in years. Hoseok sent a video message of his reaction, which was really just him freaking out. Jimin acted surprised.”

“And you?”

“I left the group chat.”

You smack his arm, earning you a scowl. “Real smooth, Kim Taehyung.”

“Well, what was I gonna say? ‘Yeah, Jungkook. Your ex-girlfriend was actually pregnant when she broke up with you and you’re totally the father?’”

“You could’ve feigned ignorance, you know, or like denied it until I figured out what to say.”

“___,” he deadpans. “One look at Jungwon and it screams Jungkook. His name isn’t actually subtle, okay? Look at your kid, he even dresses up and eats like the father he’s never met!”

You motion for him to tone it down but Jungwon is busy watching the Avengers cartoons in his Ironman pajamas while sipping his banana milk.

“I’m not projecting!” You say, defending yourself because you know that’s what Taehyung is gonna say.

“It’s not my fault that my kid chose Ironman as his favorite Avenger no matter how many times I pushed Captain America to his face, okay? He didn’t even mind the shield I bought,” you pout.

“And he won’t drink plain milk. If it’s not banana, it’s chocolate. And he loves sweets, loves to hug people, has the cutest laugh…” You sigh, still racking your brain on what parts of your son he got from you.

“Maybe the universe is the one projecting, you know? Like it just had to find a way for Jungwon to be connected to Jungkook, if not physically then by other ways.”

“Your theory is sweet but I doubt it, Tae.”

“My theory is backed by evidence. And a father’s instinct because that shit’s real. Jungkook was still around during those first two months, the bond probably developed then.”

“Jungwon was the size of a raspberry. It’s highly unlikely.”

“Can you just stop deflecting? The father of your son is here. What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know! Get my shit together and figure out what to say? You know I’m not ready for this,” you exclaim.

“Funny that you knew exactly what to say when you broke up with him but now you don’t,” Taehyung cocks an eyebrow.

“Are you my best friend or are you out to get me?”

“I’m just saying. You made that decision all on your own. Didn’t even confide in me,” he pouts. “I could’ve thrown some other options that didn’t require you breaking his heart and yours too, and going through all this by yourself.”

“Except I didn’t go through all this by myself,” you pat his head. “I had you and Namjoon. You were all I needed. Still do.”

“We can never take the place of Jungwon’s father, you know that right?”

“I know, I just… He’s not just my kid’s father, Tae. He’s my ex-boyfriend too. The man I loved.”

“You mean love. The man you still think about, and miss terribly.”

You squint at him as if in question. It’s been years since you and Taehyung had shared an apartment where he’d seen you cry almost everyday. It was something he wasn’t used to because you don’t cry, especially in front of others, not when you found out you were pregnant, not when you walked into Jungkook’s apartment only to walk out of his life. Not when Jungkook skipped graduation and left early for the US.

Everything changed after Jungwon’s birth. It’s like all the tears you never cried decided it was time. And you had years’ worth of it.

“Your kid’s a lot more perceptive than you think. He tells me sometimes that he sees you cry when you’re in bed or when you’re watching TV with him, and why else would you be crying if it wasn’t for that man?”

Of course he does. Jungwon, again just like his father, is thoughtful and pays you a lot of attention. Seriously, what about you did this kid inherit?

“The dam breaks every once in a while, I can’t help it.”

“Now you can,” Taehyung says as he gives you a hug. “You should talk to him. And soon. You know he deserves it.”

Jungkook stares at the ceiling, unwilling to move from the comforts of his bed. Head throbbing from the bottles of SoJu he downed with his older cousin, Jin, last night, the events of the day before are mighty clear in his mind.

He’d really seen you, the woman who once laid residence in his mind and his heart that he could not get rid of no matter how hard he tried, because you’d broken every possible thing you could when you decided to break up all those years ago.

He remembers that night so clearly, how he’d been excited to finally spend time with you so he could ask you to go with him to the US. You chose to break his heart instead, deciding by yourself that it wouldn’t work out. The only reason he agreed was because he’d been too hurt to even think of another way, but whether he agreed or not, he knew you would’ve walked out of his life regardless.

But there you were yesterday, dressed in your favorite-colored down jacket, hair longer than he remembers, little kid in tow calling you Mama.

Mama.

He’d just gotten back in Seoul after a visit to his mother. He’d made sure to be sneaky, as he wanted some peace and quiet before all the interviews and events he’ll need to attend because of this “homecoming” that everybody seemed to be making a big deal out of.

He was doing well with the LA Dodgers, even had meetings and possible offers with the Boston Red Sox, the team his father obsessed over. Jungkook was well on his way for bigger things in the largest baseball league in the world.

He decided to sign with the Doosan Bears instead, not even his hometown baseball team. He’ll chalk it up to missing home, maybe breaking ground so he can play in the Olympics, too, just like his father.

He was gonna seek you out, that was definitely part of the plan. He still considers the breakup as partly one-sided and he wanted to know how you were doing. He also knew he was bound to run into you because there was no escaping your circle of friends, who apparently seemed clueless as well.

Except for Taehyung, obviously, because he’s your best friend and he definitely would’ve known. But you’re here in Seoul, how did you dodge the rest of them? And Namjoon had really been able to keep everything a secret?

There were so many questions. Jin took it upon himself to be his confidante last night because surprisingly, Jimin, his best friend, had been mum about it. Jungkook and Jin spent the rest of last night scouring through social media for any trace of you and that kid but there had been none.

Jungkook is desperate, not just because he wants to see you but the child… looked like him.

The grocery was a few neighborhoods away from his, but it was next to the bank he was in so he decided to just do his shopping then. He’d been going through the sweets aisle, ready to fill the pantry of his new apartment with his favorite snacks, then he heard a thump and a soft quivering voice.

He turned to see a little boy looking sad over his toy airplane whose one wing had been clipped off. An adult didn’t seem to be around and he definitely trusts himself more than any other stranger so he’d approached the kid and asked if he needed help.

Curious doe-eyes met his questioning gaze, until the little kid took the airplane and its broken wing in his arms and cradled them.

“It’s hurt,” the kid had said, and he felt his heart burst at the cuteness and softness of this child. Jungkook took the toy and easily fixed it, the sliding slot probably too hard for his little hands to maneuver. He was about to ask for the kid’s name when he heard a familiar voice call out, the kid looking up and scurrying away from him.

And then there was you.

Everything felt hazy until the kid called you his Mama. You’d picked him up and started walking away before Jungkook could even greet you. He’d seen your abandoned grocery basket, which he could easily pass up as his own because of the same things he’d buy for himself.

The wheels were turning in his head and it wasn’t until the kid, apparently named Jungwon, stated his age that Jungkook pieced everything together. Or at least the possibility.

Could Jungwon be his child?

At the thought of this, Jungkook froze, watched your figure disappear from his sight, the eyes of the child boring into him as you walked away again. The kid let out a small smile and Jungkook had seen enough pictures of himself as a little kid in the news the past few weeks to be reminded of how he looked like, and he looked like that. It was unmistakable.

The scene plays in his head again and Jungkook feels the throbbing of his chest match the throbbing of his head, the need to confirm his suspicions and know the whole truth seeping through his veins. He tries to calm himself down, which is difficult, but he knows he needs a level-head if the truth is what he wants from you.

It’s just past lunchtime and he calls Jimin for help. As he enters the passenger seat, Jimin asks his friend for the destination.

“Take me to Taehyung’s place.”

Jungkook is running on adrenaline. With a sober mind now and a still-aching chest, he’s willing his body to relax but he’s unable, focused only on finding the truth.

There’s concern and an air of acceptance in Taehyung’s face when he opens the door to Jungkook, the idea of him showing up here having something that Taehyung has considered. Jungkook has at least half a mind to reach out to someone else before going to you.

Taehyung welcomes him in, knowing better not to argue or match the other man’s emotions. Jungkook doesn’t ask questions though and instead heads for the refrigerator, bites his lips at the sight of the same brand of banana milk he’d seen in your grocery basket.

He walks around the apartment, not missing the small basket of toys by the window. He opens a room that’s actually Taehyung’s art room and sees a paint set for kids, a framed photo of him with Jungwon placed on a shelf and next to it is a painting, the words “Jeon Jungwon” written at the bottom. It’s all the confirmation that he needs.

“Find what you’re looking for?” Taehyung asks, arms on his waist now, a bit of annoyance seeping through at the disrespect being shown to him. He gets that Jungkook is upset, but Taehyung knows him, knows he’s probably coming up with his own conclusions in his mind.

Before Jungkook could say anything, they hear the front door open, Namjoon’s deep voice calling out.

“Tae, did you get to drop off the groceries at ___’s? Jungwon’s been asking for his milk since yesterday and—” Namjoon stops as he stands by the door, eyes wide at Jungkook standing there, no doubt trying to keep himself together.

“Are you Jungwon’s father now?” He directs the question to Taehyung, the bitterness in Jungkook’s voice not lost on all the men present, including Jimin who’d been having his own battle in his mind because pretty soon, the anger will be directed at him, too.

Jungkook is the kid’s father, he’s sure of it now, yet the thought of another man taking that role causes an ache in his chest.

“Jungwon sleeps here? Does art with you? Does he call you—”

“He calls Tae ‘uncle,’ Jungkook. The same thing he calls me,” Jimin says, essentially coming out.

“You knew? This whole time?” Jungkook yells, fists clenched as the anger builds.

“Just a few years ago but—”

“And you said nothing to me?”

“It was just 2 years ago.”

“And you’ve visited me twice a year since then and you never thought to tell me that I have a son…” Jungkook flinches at the word, unbelieving that it’s something he’d even say.

“Look, just calm down, okay?” Jimin tries, but he knows it won’t do much.

“Calm down? I’m fucking livid. I have a…” Jungkook stops himself, willing the tears not to fall. All this time, you had a child that you’d kept from him, without a care of how he would feel.

“Jungkook, just take a breath, yeah?” Namjoon says this time, walking towards the younger man and pulls him in for a hug. “It’s a lot, I know. But just breathe for a bit.”

Jungkook pulls away, a mix of anger and sadness in his eyes. “How could she keep this from me?”

“Only she can answer that,” Namjoon sighs.

“I need to see her,” Jungkook states after a long pause.

“I can ask when she’s free—” Taehyung offers, ready to get his phone.

“I need to see her now.”

Jungkook finds himself in Jimin’s car, with Taehyung in the backseat talking to you over the phone, saying that he’ll take Jungwon for the rest of the afternoon and that they’re on their way.

Jungkook listens to Taehyung talk to you with so much care, the way he always had all those years ago. Nothing has changed, really.

Back in college, people tried to keep their distance from you, afraid of your resting bitch face and usually cold demeanor. Jungkook had heard about you from Jin, a good friend of your brother’s, and couldn’t quite reconcile the incredibly friendly and gentle Taehyung as your best friend.

It was one of the things that intrigued Jungkook, and he’d find out later on, after pulling all the stops with his flirting and finally getting you to agree on a coffee date, that you really did have a bitch face and you were cold if you wanted to be.

But you were so unapologetically you that it was refreshing. It wasn’t a defense mechanism or anything, it was just really who you were, but that wasn’t everything about you - you were also caring, protective, generous, extremely hardworking, and very confident.

Jungkook had fallen in love faster than he could throw a baseball, and he knows he can throw past 90/mph.

You complemented each other so beautifully that fights were easily resolved, if any, dates were always exciting, and moments together were never boring, even if it was just you quietly working on a paper and him noisily studying his games.

Taehyung was relentless in befriending you and you caved in pretty easily. “Look at the smile,” you’d said once. “Who can resist that?” You always had a soft spot for your best friend and Jungkook never minded; he’d trusted your relationship and you when you said that he never had to worry about Taehyung.

Except now. Because Taehyung seems to be a father figure to his son, being what Jungwon had needed all these years, while Jungkook had been clueless about it.

The night you broke up with him, you left him a weeping mess and begging behind closed doors to please don’t go. He felt he’d lost a big part of him, felt the soul-crushing feeling of losing someone again.

The loss of you was something he couldn’t prepare for and he’d spent years trying to put the pieces again, all on his own, in a foreign country, while chasing his dream. It had been hard but after some time, he rationalized in his mind that maybe you were right, maybe it would’ve been very hard for the both of you given the distance, the time difference, the busy schedules. It wouldn’t have been fair; he’d accepted that.

But keeping his child from him like this? This is too much. This is ruthless. You made a decision again. All by yourself. And he’s angry.

Everyone is thankful that Jungwon is asleep, although it’s a chance for Jungkook to see the little one in slumber, looking like the most adorable boy in the world.

Jimin and Taehyung agree to leave first, Jungkook not wanting them to wait, although he’s unsure how long this conversation with you is going to last.

You’ve been pacing back and forth since Taehyung called, informing you of the impromptu visit and Jungkook being unrelenting in his decision to speak with you today. You would’ve wanted to wait, although you know that Tae is right - Jungkook needs to know as soon as possible; he deserves that much.

In your more than 2 years together, you barely saw Jungkook angry - that was more of your thing because he enjoyed annoying the hell out of you every time and you always gave him shit for it.

But you two barely fought - you understood his busy schedule and were never really the jealous type, despite the presence of his “fans” (except maybe around Sora who’d named herself as the president of Jungkook’s fan club like that shit still flies), while Jungkook always knew how to make it up to you. He rarely complained, too if you ditched him to work on your projects.

But this Jungkook is different - his nostrils are flaring, brows are furrowed, jaws are clenched you’re afraid he’d break his teeth.

You’re different, too. You’re nervous, more reserved, not with your usual crossed arms but with fingers fidgeting at the loss of control.

You lead him in the living room and motion for him to sit down but he dismisses you.

“Hi, Jung—”

“I need to hear it from you,” he breathes out. “I know, god, I fucking know but I need to hear it from you.”

You take a deep breath and you say the words you’ve practiced in your head. “Jungwon is our son.”

You see him close his eyes, bite his lips, and tilt his head. It’s how you know he’s trying to control his emotions.

The silence is deafening but you give him time to process.

“How? I mean, you were on birth control and you said you never missed…” He stammers.

“Pills are not 100%, Jungkook. It just happened,” you explain, racking your brain for days right after you took the test over how it might’ve happened. At one point you stopped; it was no use.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It’s the big question, the one he’s been losing his mind over. It doesn’t matter that it happened; he just doesn’t know how you could make that big of a decision all on your own when it concerned him, the other half of the child.

“You were on your way to the big leagues. I couldn’t take that away from you.”

“But you thought it was alright to take away years with my son?” He seethes. “Fuck, ___. That wasn’t your decision to make.”

It wasn’t, not fully at least, you knew it. But he wouldn’t make that decision, so you had to.

“I made it anyway,” you respond, tone more stern now.

With all the pain and struggles it brought, it’s the one thing you stand by; it’s a decision you never regretted. Watching Jungkook play in the ballparks his dad never got to take him to, seeing him blow a kiss to the sky before and after every game, and catching him mouth the words ‘I love you, dad’ after his interviews have always been enough to trump everything else.

Jungkook had been living his and his father’s dream. It had always felt worth it.

“Why? I would’ve stayed,” Jungkook yells.

“Exactly. You would’ve,” you yell back. “I was sure that the moment you knew, you would’ve passed up a dream you worked your whole life for. I couldn’t let you do that. I couldn’t let you make that decision.”

“So you made it for me, by giving me none at all?” He scoffs. “Real brave, ___. And real fucked up, too.”

“It was the only way for you to go!” You exclaim. “If you had known, you wouldn’t have left, you would’ve settled, stayed behind… You would’ve given everything up.”

“Because that’s our child, ___!”

“And we didn’t plan on having him!” You shout, tears prickling on the corners of your eyes now.

“You’ve known baseball your whole life, Jungkook. Everything you’ve ever done was so you could play in the MLB and you did. You made it happen because you had the best opportunity and you took it, worked hard, got to where you wanted to be,” you rationalize.

He’s panting as he processes your words, mind going again to that night when you walked out on him, making sense of the reasons why, those you verbalized and those you didn’t.

“I know you, Jungkook,” you sigh, your voice taking him back to the present. “You’d take responsibility because that’s the kind of man you are. You would’ve insisted on taking care of us, on letting go of everything else for us, for your son. And I couldn’t let you give up on your dream, the one thing left of your father…”

“Don’t you fucking dare bring up my father,” he snaps at you, eyes so cold and you feel so small.

“You wouldn’t have forgiven yourself if you let that dream go for us.”

“Then you don’t really know me, ___. Because the hell would I give us up just like that. The hell would I give up time away from my son.”

He pulls his hair out of frustration, then lets go, tears now streaming down his face.

“I was 14 when I lost my dad, ___.”

“I know, and I’m sorry—”

“No, you don’t know. And you aren’t sorry,” he retorts, his back facing you as he tries to get himself together. “I had to watch him wither away, had to stay by his bedside and watch him take his final breath because my mother couldn’t. I was 14 and I had to be strong for my parents. And I cried, every single night, for months,” he heaves.

He turns to face you, wants you to know how much you’ve hurt him.

“I almost quit school because I wouldn’t get out of my bed, wouldn’t talk to anyone. I told you I suffered, that I lost my way,” he continues, weeping.

But you didn’t know this, didn’t know he suffered like this, that he lost his way like this.

“But the dream kept you going, didn’t it?” You try. “It gave you purpose; you had something to live for, Jungkook,” you continue, reminding him of what the dream meant to him.

He’d been young but he had so many memories with his father about baseball; it had been the core of their relationship, the thread that kept them connected years after his death.

“In return for what?” He barks. “Fuck, I would’ve given anything to have my father again. And that includes that dream, ___.”

You stare at him, his body now crouching down on the couch, unable to fully lift himself up. You’d never seen him like this. He was never afraid to cry but this is different.

Your own tears are relentless, as if telling you that this is all because of you and you deserve this pain. You had broken this man, and you’d done so without regret.

He looks up at you, wipes his tear-drenched face, illuminating the pain, the longing, the anger.

“You took four years of my life away from my son. You robbed me of that chance. You didn’t even give me a choice. How fucking selfish are you? You had no right, ___,” he huffs.

“I just… I know you, Jungkook. You would’ve stayed and then what?” You say, trying to stand your ground, but even you don’t believe your words, at least not anymore.

“You’ll regret it down the road? Resent us because you had to stay? How would we feel? How would Jungwon feel, knowing that his father gave up his dream for him?”

“Really? You’re absolutely sure that’s what would happen? As if I’m not resenting you now?” Jungkook scoffs.

“You don’t know what it’s like to have someone be taken from you, to not have enough time with them. But yeah, you need to have the last say always, right?” He says coldly, allowing the silence to let you take in his bitter words.

“You can’t ever feel like you don’t have control so you make all the decisions by yourself. Hurting those in your wake before they hurt you. But it’s all good right because you stand by it? As long as it’s enough to rid you of the guilt even if it hurts everyone else?”

This is how he hurts you - peeling away your layers and throwing them back at you, until there’s nothing left but all the parts you didn’t want anyone to see. But Jungkook had seen them, accepted them, loved you despite them.

But he’s standing in front of you. And there’s no love in his eyes. You don’t think you deserve it anymore.

You give him this, the last say. And he takes it. And he leaves.

Like countless times before, you fall to the floor and cry. You cry until your sounds are loud enough, until you can no longer hear your own heart breaking.

Taglist: @fluffyjoons @jwlmnbt @koremis @mrcleanheichou @kooafraid @purplepommy @btstannies @jeonwiixard @songshin @joondala @hobiade @di0rgguk @fan-ati--c @yn-the-reader @spicybangtanwings @njkbangtan @jeoncookie-bts @miniaturecloud @revehosh @preciouschimine @sherlynxx @dimreads

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #parents au #exes au #baseball player jk #inevitable #series

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Text

he’s so vogue

Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue

A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!

warnings: swearing

[masterlist]

Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.

Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.

That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.

Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".

This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.

Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.

You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.

Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.

"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.

This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.

"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.

"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.

"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.

You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.

After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.

Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.

It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.

But it was still bloody freezing.

You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.

The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.

You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.

It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.

"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.

You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.

"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his.

Perfect.

He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.

"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.

"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.

"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.

"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.

"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."

"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.

"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.

"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.

"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.

You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.

The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.

Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.

It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.

You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.

"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.

"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.

"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.

"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.

"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.

"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.

"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.

"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.

"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.

"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.

"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.

Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.

"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.

"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.

"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.

"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.

••••

You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.

Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.

Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.

"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.

"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.

Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.

"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.

"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.

He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.

You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.

"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.

"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.

"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.

The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.

You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.

You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...

You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.

"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.

"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.

You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.

"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.

"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.

"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.

"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.

"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.

"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.

"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.

"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.

"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"

Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.

"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.

"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.

"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.

"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.

"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.

"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.

"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.

For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.

"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.

"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.

"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.

"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.

"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .

"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.

He was amazing though - that was the truth.

"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.

"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).

"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.

"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.

"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.

"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.

"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.

"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"

"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.

"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.

"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.

"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.

"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.

"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.

"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.

"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"You still see them often?"

"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.

"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.

"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.

This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.

"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.

"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.

"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.

"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.

"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.

"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.

"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"

"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.

"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.

He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.

Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.

"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.

"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."

"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.

"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid.

"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.

"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?

"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.

"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.

"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.

"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.

"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.

Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

••••

After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.

You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.

You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.

You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.

You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.

Today had been a good day.

Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.

People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.

"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.

"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.

"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.

Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.

Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.

The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.

Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.

You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.

Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.

"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.

"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.

"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.

"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.

"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."

Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.

The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.

"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.

"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.

"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"

"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.

"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.

"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.

"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.

"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.

"Sorry I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.

"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry.

You couldn't wait to be in love with him.

"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.

"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.

Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.

"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.

"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.

You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.

Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.

••••

A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.

It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.

Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.

Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.

You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.

It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.

And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

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musings-of-a-rose · 2 years

Text

Christmas Writing Challenge 2021

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x f!reader (no relationship)

Word Count: 866

Warnings: implied smut but none actually described

Prompt: Decorating // “White Christmas”

Notes: I actually really like writing for Maxwell, which is good because I have a chapter wip in store!

I’ve never done a writing challenge before, being so new to writing in general, so I thought this would be fun! Thanks to @marvelousmermaid for sharing the list with me and @toomanystoriessolittletime for creating the list!

I used a random name picker with character names I put in, otherwise I know I would write every single one for Frankie.

My personal challenge for this is to write for people other than Frankie AND to keep it short!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Steph’s Christmas Writing Challenge December 2021 Masterlist

You had been working as a personal assistant for Maxwell Lord for almost a year. Nothing surprises you anymore. So when a team of decorators shows up to start decorating the office, you let them onto the main floor to start, just asking that they try not to disturb the employees.

Maxwell is out at meetings most of the day, which gives you time to catch up on some paperwork. The decorators finish the office and show up at your desk, asking to be let into Maxwell’s office to decorate.

“Oh. Um no that’s ok. It doesn’t need to be decorated.”

“But Miss, his office is on this list of what he wants decorated.”

Probably for Allistair.

“It’s ok. I’ll take over and let him know you finished.”

They have you sign off on a paper and take off, leaving you alone in the office as it’s past the end of the working day. You have no one to go home to so you don’t mind staying late.

You’d like to say you don’t know why you told the decorators you’d do his office. Maybe you want to do something nice for your boss? Save him some money? He’d hate that. No, if you were being truly honest with yourself, it’s because you were madly in love with him and wanted to do it yourself.

You gather up the boxes left by the decorators and get them into the office, heading to the janitor to ask him for a ladder. He brings one to you, giving you a non threatening wink as he leaves. You turn the radio on to a Christmas station and alternate between singing and humming to yourself.

You put out some decorations and then realize you’ll need to hang the garland first. You open the ladder and place it in front of the shelves on one side of the room, kicking off your heels before you ascend the ladder. You hang the garland and get off the ladder, standing back to make sure it’s straight. You work your way around the large office like this, adding some other decorations as you go if it inspires you.

You’re at the back wall of shelves, staring up at them because the perfect place was just a little higher than the others. You softly sing along to “White Christmas” as you think, then decide you can make the stretch. You’re standing at the top of the ladder as safe as you can be, stretching up to hang the garland. What you don’t see is Maxwell, leaning against the door frame watching you with a smile on his face. He had wanted to announce his presence, asking you why the decorators didn’t do his office, but then he heard you singing and could see the thought you’re putting behind every decoration you place. For a moment, he allows himself to think that maybe his feelings for you are reciprocated. But it can’t be - what did he do to deserve someone like you?

He sees you standing on the balls of your feet, stretching up and leaning perilously close to the edge of the ladder. Suddenly terrified that you might fall, he walks towards the ladder and manages to grab it as it shakes and you let out a short yelp.

“I’ve got you.”

You jump a little more, looking down at your boss, who just saved you from falling and seriously injuring yourself.

“Oh, Mr. Lord! I didn’t hear you come in! I’m sorry I-”

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I-I- was not at my desk and I’m here in your office, and I was trying to make it nice for you and-”

“Get down.”

You gulp and turn facing the ladder, realizing as you start to descend that he could see up your skirt the entire time, causing your face to heat up. You feel him touch your hips ever so slightly, guiding you down and making sure you don’t fall. You reach the bottom step and turn around, finding yourself inches from Maxwell.

“Th-Thank you, for saving me.”

Maxwell doesn’t move but looks into your eyes.

“Why did you decorate my office?”

“I, uh…it needed to be decorated and-”

“That’s why I hired the decorators.”

You pause, brain working overtime to even function with the close proximity to the man you loved. He smelled of expensive cologne, aftershave, and a hint of his actual musk, which is naturally what your brain chooses to focus on.

“Because I wanted to do something nice for you.”

He searches your face, looking for what, you don’t know.

“Why?”

You hesitate for a second before the words tumble from your lips. “Because I love you.”

You reach to hide your face, terrified that you’ll be fired, but before you can, Maxwell tips your chin up and kisses you, pouring all of his love into it that he’s felt since hiring you. He pulls back after a few moments and locks eyes with you.

“I love you too.”

You kiss him back, forgetting about the decorations as Maxwell picks you up and sets you on his desk without breaking the kiss. You can finish decorating tomorrow.

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @astoryisaloveaffair @softpedropascal @marvelousmermaid @icanbeyourjedi @livingmydreams13 @theewokingdead @f0rever15elf @mesmorales @sarahmilesbendrix @swol-bear @mrsudontknowme @lovesbiggerthanpride @gallowsjoker @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @sunnshineeexoxo @sara-alonso @giggly-otter @dirtytissuebox @diaryofkali @adventures-of-a-noodle

#maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x f!reader #maxwell lord x female reader #maxwell lord #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #stephsxmaswritingchallenge2021

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

This chapter came out a little longer than usual. lemony teasing

Natsu’s secretary called her boss from the front office. “Mr. Dragneel, Mr. Avatar is here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Kinana. Send him in.”

Because no one in the organization was a computer whiz, he contracted with an independent IT person who was recommended by Yura. The guy, Jerome Avatar wasn’t skittish, didn’t care who he worked for as long as it paid well, and generally had a pleasant demeanor. As the accountant, Yura was in contact with Jerome the most, but for any major issues or changes, those had to be cleared with Natsu first. It was mostly quick, in and out of the office dealings.

Jerome shook Natsu’s hand over the desk before taking a seat.

“So,” Natsu questioned, “what brings you here today? Is there something I need to approve?”

“No, nothing new. I asked for this meeting because I came across some intelligence you might be interested in.”

“Oh?”

“I learned that your rival Heartfilia had been in contact with a new cyber security client, Mikage Kaishā who’s into a lot of shady dealings with government contacts.”

Natsu shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds like just a typical client for her, probably has her launder money for them. I don’t really pay attention to her clients because we deal with different things. But I do appreciate you telling me.”

“Should I keep an eye on them?”

“That’s fine if you believe it’s worth it. And if you learn about anything that could hurt us let me know immediately. By the way, how did you find out this information?”

“A friend in the field told me about it, then I hacked into Heartfilia’s computers to authenticate the information.”

Natsu sat forward in his chair. “You hacked into her computer? I’m surprised her employee didn’t catch that, cause I know she’s good at this stuff too.”

The man grinned. “Well, not as good as me.” He pointed to Natsu’s laptop. “If you’d like, I can set it up so you can access her system from your computer too.”

“Oh, I don’t want to tamper with her company—”

Jerome waved a hand nonchalantly to stop him. “I wouldn’t advise it either, if you touch things, that’s what’ll get attention, but you can watch what’s going on. Keep an eye on her calendar, meeting dates, whatever you want.”

Natsu sat back, rubbing his chin. The offer was a very tempting one indeed. A chance to stalk his ex through cyberspace… someone must have mentioned to this Jerome guy their history. It wasn’t exactly hidden, but not something talked about either amongst lower ranking employees. This wasn’t the first time Jerome had brought them intelligence info, so maybe he was looking to increase his usefulness, climb the ladder so to speak? Being connected to a powerful Yakuza house was certainly handy, and what better way than to tap into such a personal subject.

“That could be interesting,” Natsu finally responded. “Alright, what do you have to do to set it up? And make sure it’s nothing I could screw up accidentally cause I really don’t want her to find out.”

Jerome looked at his watch as if calculating his options. “I could do it now. Might take me about an hour if you can go without the laptop for that amount of time.”

“You have to take it back to your office or something?”

“No,” the man shook his head. “I can do it right here, so I can explain along the way.”

“Perfect.” Natsu then called his secretary and requested she double his lunch order due to an extended meeting.

While the computer tech fiddled, Natsu just sat back with his meal, watching him work. Math wasn’t his strong suit— nor academics for that matter. Growing up, his father had always told him he would be next in line as boss, so he only learned what he needed to for that world. One needed strength, cunning, street smarts, not book smarts. Though he had to admit the things these hackers could do was scary when you thought about it. Lucy was lucky in that her best friend was just a wiz at language— including computer languages. It all looked like gibberish, but the woman interpreted it almost like a savant. According to Jerome, from what he’d seen so far, Levy was not yet at his skill level, but that could easily change with time and experience like he’d been through.

“Natsu you—” Gray paused his knock on the doorframe. “Sorry, I thought the meeting would be done by now.”

“It’s fine, Jerome is hacking Lucy’s system for me right now.” Natsu responded with a grin. “Now I’ll see what she’s up to in real time.”

Gray groaned and ran a hand down his face in disgust. “I’m not even gonna respond to that. But I will tell you I told you so when it blows up in your face later.”

“Tch. She won’t know, right Jerome?”

“She shouldn’t unless you touch something.” The man answered while continuing to type.

“See. It’ll be fine.”

“You’re an idiot. Anyway,” Gray waved a hand nonchalantly as he left, “call me when your free to go over the new orders.”

“It will be fine, right?” Natsu asked Jerome a second time with a bit of anxiety in his tone.

Jerome stopped typing. “As long as you just observe they shouldn’t see you, just don’t get excited and touch something.”

“I don’t plan to; not like I’ll know how to do that anyways.”

“I’m almost finished, but do you want me to turn on her web camera so you can see through it?”

“But she won’t see me?”

“No, for you it’ll just be like watching a one-way video feed with image and audio.”

After a momentary pause, Natsu’s eyes narrowed with a mischievous grin. “Do it.”

Being able to see Lucy every day and feed his addiction was just too tempting, ‘I’m turning into a junky.’ But Gray’s words entered his mind. What if the man was right, could this bite him in the ass later? Probably… Though how bad could it really be? He really had no plans to interfere with Lucy’s business, just her personal life— and yes, he knew it sounded horrible. What right did he have to stalk his ex? None. ‘I just worry about her, is that so wrong?’ Lucy’s tough, but she’s just a woman and their world didn’t always treat women fairly. His desire to protect her bordered neuroticism, but could anyone blame him considering the underworld they worked in. ‘I’m just doing it to protect her,’ Natsu justified it to himself. Guys like Gray who haven’t fallen in love yet, ‘they just don’t understand.’ If anything were to happen to Lucy, he didn’t know what he would do. Probably move Heaven and earth and kill any in his way for what they’d done.

It took just over an hour before Jerome finished installing the spyware and making sure the systems were still secured. Just a one-way mirror that Levy shouldn’t catch unless really digging for it. Another 20 minutes were spent explaining to Natsu how to do the accessing part, including pulling up the webcam whenever he wanted to. “Or just leave it running,” Jerome noted. “It’ll just show up in this window,” he pointed towards the screen, “and as long as you don’t log out completely from your computer it’ll stay open.”

“Who turns off their computers?”

“Actually, it’s a good idea to turn them off now and then so any software updates can be completed, but since I manage your systems, there’s not really a need to.”

“Great.” The two men stood up and shook hands. “Thanks, Jerome.”

“It was my pleasure.”

When Natsu arrived each day at headquarters, the first thing and last thing he did was check to see if there was anything new or interesting going on Lucy’s side. It was like being hooked on one of their products, because the high it gave sucked him right in. But so far, he also stayed away from the video feed. Looking through her calendar or emails were cold and impersonal, but maybe the video was too close, too real, too much of a moral dilemma in crossing that line of a peeping Tom. That didn’t mean his addiction may one day require more feeding…

October had rolled around, and the air outside grew crisp and cold. It was a beautiful time of the year with the color changing leaves, reminding that winter was soon upon them. How quickly the time sure flew. The Dragneel Yakuza clan had already started preparing for their end of year Bonenkai to happen in mid-December. This plus the Shinnenkai in January were the two biggest parties the clan threw for all their members. The first is to forget the stresses of the past year, while the other was to welcome a successful new year. Natsu spared no expense on the food and drinks to take care of the loyalty and hard work their members contributed. From the emails, he knew that Lucy’s group had also started preparing for theirs. ‘Maybe I’ll crash her party,’ he mused to himself. ‘Oh, what’s this?’ His eyes fell on a new email of an appointment reminder for the next day. It was for Lucy’s monthly massage at an upscale spa. Natsu checked his own calendar and noticed he had nothing booked, no meetings, no shipments arriving— a perfect opportunity.

The next day, Natsu went to the spa early and spoke directly to the owner, paying them a nice chunk of change to allow him access and to play along. Lucy was scheduled for 2pm and arrived right on time. So, as he waited behind the scenes, the receptionist acted like normal and directed her inside. She had a regular masseuse, something Natsu knew he couldn’t fake upfront, so that person stood inside the room to greet her.

“Welcome, Ms. Heartfilia. I’ll step out while you get ready. Please lie on your stomach like normal.”

“Thank you, Kenji,” Lucy smiled. She’d been coming here for a couple years and was aware of the routine. The male masseuse had strong, but gentle hands and knew her body well by now.

Natsu had to admit he wasn’t happy to find out Lucy’s regular masseuse was a guy but held back from lashing out. He didn’t want to do anything to mess up this adventure— and oh, he planned to have his own revenge. It wouldn’t be as sexual as the soapland incident but knowing many of her trigger points meant he could do a bit of damage well enough. Now, Natsu had noted that Kenji’s voice was a bit deeper than his own, which would be difficult to fake, but the man explained he didn’t do much talking while working and played relaxing music during the session. Perfect. Natsu could just hit play and not talk at all.

“Ready, Ms. Heartfilia?” Kenji called out through the closed door.

The muffled yes was heard, and the man stepped away, leaving Natsu to his business. He entered the room and immediately turned on the pre-set music, a light instrumental with Asian undertones. It was quite pleasing to listen to. And there Lucy was under a silk sheet to cover her naked body, with her arms up and crossed, head perched on the relaxed hands, and hair up in a loose bun, revealing her beautiful neck. Natsu almost shuddered at the sight and knowledge he would get to touch her skin… it was the one thing she didn’t allow him to do at Soapland— touch. His grin grew as he rubbed his hands together to warm them before making the first move.

He moved the sheet to uncover Lucy’s lower half, up to the thighs, then applied a film of scented massage oils to his hands with a few drops over the taut muscles along her long legs, chasing the dripping liquid along her skin to smooth them over. His hands glide through several passes to the swell of her ass, then back down again all the way to the ankles, fingers applying pressure against the tendons and ligaments to gently work out any tension it encountered. Lucy sighed wispily as his hands massaged each foot, squeezing, smoothing, paying attention to each digit and every curve. His thumbs applied pressure at the arches, kneading the tight knots there from wearing heels all day long. He stayed focused on the area, her toes curling and flexing as the mewls leaching from her show their pleasure, until Natsu felt the knots give and relax away.

“Mmm, you’re getting good at that Kenji,” Lucy purred with a little huskiness in her tone.

Natsu grinned to himself as he lowered the sheet back down, so she stayed warm and moved onto her supple ass. Using both hands, he took his time to knead each cheek through the silken fabric, using his fingers to follow the gluteus muscles, starting near the leg, and following the swell of her curve upwards, slowly riding the fibers looking for any knots or tense areas. One cheek, then the other paying loving attention to and listening to the sounds Lucy made to clue him in on where to go. Every sigh a notch in his belt, each mewling purr a win. Natsu grew bolder, fanning out his thumb each time it got closer to her thighs to touch…

“Oh, Kenji,” Lucy whined, “you’re being a naughty boy today— keep it up.”

‘What?!’ Natsu’s hands paused and tensed for a split second before catching himself. Does Kenji mess with her too?! He shook his head and finished up in the area quickly trying not to let such thoughts stop him. ‘Just focus…’ Natsu grumbled in his head.

After applying more oil to his hands, he moved the sheet down to reveal Lucy’s back and for a second time, Natsu paused on what it contained. Her tattoo… It symbolized… he took a deep breath and dropped more oil on to the skin, willing away the memories breaching his mind. He didn’t want to think about it, not now. It was too painful.

“You okay, Kenji?” Lucy questioned as if noticing the slight pause or tremble in the man’s hands.

Natsu mumbled a soft Mmhmm and dived into the massage so Lucy wouldn’t grow more concerned, missing the uptick in the corners of her lips. He slowly smoothed along the skin using the base of his palms for pressure, each hand following the muscles, moving out from the waist, up the center of her back, and flaring out towards the sides just below the shoulder blades, repeating the same movement, each time increasing the speed while lessening the pressure. Next, he targeted the upper back and shoulder blades, an area he knew Lucy held a lot of tension from carrying the weight of her voluptuous bosoms. With precise ministrations, Natsu applied careful pressure with his thumbs and follows the curve of the blades up and around to the top of the shoulder. He then searched with the pads of his fingers for any knots along her trap muscles, moving up along the spine and fanning out to the top of her shoulders.

“Oh, yeah, right there,” Lucy mewled when he reached a specific spot.

The area around her spine, between the shoulder blades held the most tension and knots from constantly holding the upright, flexed posture that wearing heels will create. Her wispy sighs signaled the release of her tense muscles, bringing another wave of pride swelling in him. Natsu continued onto her neck, his strong hands kneaded the supple flesh, fingers palpating and soothing all the knots. Her neck too, held a few tense areas, especially around the base of the head, so he did his best to melt them away. He worked through Lucy’s mewls and moaning sighs, almost sexual in nature, aroused and a little heated in the face knowing his handiwork brought forth such sounds. Ugh, how he wanted to hear more of it! Lucy putty in his hands and spread between his thighs, calling out his name…

“You’ve gotten better at this… Natsu,” the cocky teasing tone, snapped him out of his dream.

“Natsu?” He tried failingly to disguise his voice. “I’m Kenji, Ms. Heartfilia.”

“Uh-huh. You think I can’t tell the difference Natsu?” Lucy quipped back with a chuckle. “Kenji’s routine is very different. Plus, I knew the moment I smelled your cologne.”

Busted.

“Tch. Well, if you knew it was me all along, why’d you let me do this?”

“Making you work is my payback.” She settled back down, relaxed on her arms. “Now, chop, chop, finish the job.”

This little minx! He was the one supposed to be torturing her this time, not the other way around! “Fine, kitten.” Natsu gritted out a smile and took hold of her neck again to placate and lull Lucy back into thinking he would go along. He massaged the sides with the tips of his fingers Both hands wrapped around, and his thumbs pushing up through her hair against the muscles on the back of her head.

“If only you’d taken care of me like this before,” Lucy mumbled.

Natsu paused and leaned over her ear. “Why not let me take care of you now?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“No, I don’t know the answer, that’s part of the problem!”

Lucy sighed. “Natsu, I don’t want to fight right now. I’m here to relax, not fight. If you’re done, then leave and send Kenji back in.”

“Oh, yeah. Why? Because he’s another one of your boy toys? He gonna be naughty again with you once I leave?!”

“Pfft, I said that knowing it was you, idiot.”

“I think you live to torture me, Angel. But you’re right. I don’t wanna fight right now either, so—” Natsu leaned down quick and latched his mouth onto the area between her shoulder blades, sucking hard.

Lucy squealed and reached back frantically trying to claw at his face, but he grabbed her hands, knowing if she struggled any harder, she risked completely exposing herself. He held her for a few seconds, and once satisfied he’d achieved his goal, let go.

“Natsu! Did you put a hickey on me?!”

“This Angel,” he trailed his fingers over Lucy’s tattoo as he spoke, “belongs to me. Will always be mine,” he whispered close to her ear. “You know it, I know it, and your boy toys will know it too.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah,” Natsu stood up and covered her back up with the sheet. “You hate that you don’t hate me. It’s okay. I still love you too. See ya around kitten.”

Natsu heard the woman’s sigh as the door closed behind him and smiled to himself. He knew she didn’t actually hate him, their relationship was just complicated at the moment, never love the actual problem between them… Though, it had been a dick move to give her a hickey, but that’s what Lucy gets for leading him on like that. She could’ve just stopped the massage immediately if she knew it was him all along, so to let him go through the entire process, it was tit for tat— and hey, at least it’s only temporary.

‘It’s your move next kitten…’

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fiction #nalu yakuza au #nalu fan fic #natsu dragneel #lucy hearfilia #ch 7 #we'll take back heaven #petri808 #lemony scented

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infjsnightmare · 3 years

Text

How You Met: Guild Style

A/N: Hello! This one was so much more difficult to write. I think maybe I just don't have as good a grip on the personalities of the guild so much. Lol. So, this might have a bit more OOC than the other two. Also, I flip-flopped for a while and decided not to include Francis since he is canonically married, but if anyone wants me to, I can probably include him on the same one that I include any other extraneous characters on. With that out of the way, I sincerely hope that you like this! Feedback of any kind is always welcomed and appreciated.

John: You were scanning the aisles of the convenience store, looking for any food that was on sale. Your eyes lit up when you found a tuna salad sandwich for only 99 cents. You should have enough change for this at least. All your money went to rent since being laid off and you actually hadn't eaten in two days. This was like a holy grail. Placing the sandwich in front of the large man at the register, you turned your change purse inside out. Meticulously counting each coin, you realized you only had 87 cents, which was 12 cents too short. The man scoffed taking the sandwich away as he chastised you and told you to "get a job". You were on the brink of tears when a hand came up from behind you and dropped the remaining needed change on the table. An angry looking young blond man glared menacingly at the employee as he spat at him, grabbing the sandwich and placing it in your hands.

"Why don't you get a life, jackass?"

Lovecraft: The sun was beaming hot as you lay back in the sand and let the warmth overtake you. The smell of the ocean and the distant cry of seagulls relaxed your body. You sighed, sitting up to watch the waves crash against the shore when you saw something dark begin emerging from the water. At first it looked like seaweed, but slowly a tall lanky man in a suit slowly walked up out of the water, absolutely drenched. Your eyes widened in fear as it looked like something straight out of a horror movie. You watched intently as the man walked up on to the beach aimlessly. Then he turned his head at an unnatural to look straight at you.

"Where can I get some ice cream?... It's too hot."

Lucy: You were at work, scrubbing the floors by the cash register even though your shift ended over an hour ago. You weren't going to get paid for this overtime either, but you knew you needed the job to make ends meet. Your boss also knew this, unfortunately, and took advantage of it. The manager lazily eyed you as they were laughing with a friend of theirs who had stopped by. "Put some more elbow grease into it!" You heard the teasing chirp from the idiot. You felt like a dog. Gritting your teeth, you scrubbed furiously, imagining the spot on the floor to be your manager's face. Until you were interrupted by a the voice of a young girl with a slight blush adorning her face, almost the same shade of red as her hair.

"It's really none of my business....and it's not like I care or anything...but, you shouldn't let your employer treat you like a slave."

Edgar: You were perusing the mystery section of the library and had finally settled on which book you would like to read next. Pulling it of the shelf, you tucked the book under your arm and made your way to the sitting area to give the first few chapters a quick read before deciding to borrow it for the week. When you got to the desk, you noticed that there was a printed manuscript left on the table. You set down the book you were holding in favor of the paper-clipped pages. You were delighted by the writing. It was a magnificent mystery. You were smiling from ear to ear as you read each page with fervor. You were slightly take aback at the light tugging at your clothes, looking down to see a raccoon. Followed closely behind him was an adorable man with tousled dark hair and a crimson blush over his whole face.

"Ah! My manuscript! I must have left it here, I'm so sorry!"

Mark: You were walking through your usual peaceful trail in the woods, following the path of a small creek. The crunch of dead leaves underfoot and the crisp autumn air made the atmosphere serene and enticing. You could've have lost yourself to the sounds of nature if it weren't for the the whooping and hollering that you heard further down the creek. As you drew closer, you could hear the shattering of glass breaking, followed by another victorious yell. You finally came to a small clearing, seeing a vivacious young man with bright orange hair shooting rocks at glass bottles with a sling-shot. He looked at your direction and aimed the sling shot towards you. You opened your mouth to protest when he released the stone. It whirred past your head, hitting a bottle strung up on a tree branch behind you. The man beamed with glee.

"Boom! Nailed it!"

Nathaniel: Looking out your window this morning, you felt giddy at the light dusting of snow you saw. Snow was a rarity in December and here it was, on Christmas no less. Placing your jacket on, you dashed out of your apartment to walk and see all the lights around town and the couples holding hands. It was a joyous atmosphere despite it being a minor holiday. You stopped in your tracks when you saw a tall man dressed in priestly garb, sitting and reading from a book that you could only assume was religious in nature. You'd never seen a priest before and were rather awestruck as you watched his silver hair fall in front of his glasses as he poured over his book. You didn't even look away when he stopped reading to stare back at you. Or when he cleared his throat with his brow lifted in irritation. Or even when he stood up and walked the few steps closing the distance between you. But, once he spoke, you finally felt embarrassment as your cheeks felt hot against the winter air.

"You do realize that it is particularly rude to stare, right?"

Margaret: The vending machine whirred as you selected your drink. It was sweltering out and you definitely needed the cool liquid to combat the heat during your break. You'd been moving containers off the ships all morning, so you were pretty beat by the time your break rolled around. You sat on the edge of the dock listening to the squabble between two passengers on a boat. One passenger was dressed in religious attire and seemed apathetic towards the argument. The other passenger was a tall woman dressed in a large frilly dress with a rather robust petticoat. Her honey-hair was pulled up under a sun-hat like a true southern american belle. In opposition to the man's apathy, she seemed quite fiery, eyes steeled and jaw clenched. In a huff, she marched down off the boat. The ramp led next to where you were sitting, eyeing the woman as you drank your beverage. Her eyes snapped towards you as she noticed your watchful gaze. She relaxed her her face ever so slightly meeting your eyes as she motioned towards the man on the ship.

"Bless his heart, but I swear some men just aren't raised proper."

Herman: The rain was was all you could hear as it pitter-pattered against your umbrella while you made your way back home. Your feet were walking along the slippery cobblestone sidewalk with a practiced gait. You always took this path home. The same scenes, the same faces- nothing to shake you from your daze. However, the faintest glow of white caught your attention. You rubbed your eyes with your free hand to confirm that you were, in fact, seeing a small white whale happily floating through the air and rain. You followed it in wonderment until you came across an older gentleman sitting on a bench smoking from a pipe, umbrella propped against the back of his seat. You watched as the whale twirled around. Compelled, you sat on the wet bench, next to the sun-tanned man drawing him out of his own thoughts. He gave you a wry smile as the whale danced between you.

"Care to sit and chat with a tired, old man?"

Louisa: It was a busy day. You were run ragged as you tried to complete all the errands you had scheduled for yourself today. You had already dropped off a few packages at the post office. Renewed your insurance for the year and now you were in a hurry to pick up your dry-cleaning before the store closed for lunch. You picked up your pace, reaching for the door. Only, when you opened it, an armful of bagged clothing came tumbling on top of you. With it, fell a small-framed young lady with round glasses and the cutest flustered expression you'd ever seen. Her eyes widened in shock as her face turned scarlett.

"Oh n-no! I'm so so so so sorry! Please do-don't be angry!"

#readerxguild #readerxbsd #bsd #hope you like this #i tried my best #i really did #the guild #John simp

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thewhitejournal · 4 years

Text

“The Intern” Part Two

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

hello all! the love on this first part was absolutely unexpected, but i am so grateful for it! here is the link to the first part of the series, go ahead and read that in case you haven’t yet. if you liked this part or have any feedback, do not hesitate to let me know. without further ado, onto the show!

content warnings: mentions of child sexual assault and murder

link to the inspiration for this fictional case

You and Penelope started looking over the file Agent Hotchner had given you. Not soon after you read over some of the details, a blonde woman swung open the door to the office.

”Garcia, debriefing in five. Hi, I’m Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ. I’m the liaison for the team; I’ve heard so much about you, Penelope is so excited to not be alone in her office all the time.” She smiled at you, offering you her hand to shake, and you took it.

”It’s so nice to meet you, I’m (y/n) (y/l/n).” You smiled back at her, and she called for Garcia over her shoulder as she left. You looked up to Penelope, silently asking what your next move should be.

”C’mon kid, you're on this case. I have a little feeling Hotch won't mind if I invite you to work it.” She said to you with a knowing smirk playing on her lips, heat flooding your cheeks. You'd hope not, you didn't want to make the boss mad the first day you were shadowing.

Following Penelope out of her office, you looked around and noticed other agents heading the same way. Agent Jareau was walking ahead of you, talking to a dark-haired woman, and your path aligned with a skinny, long-haired man wearing a sweater vest and gun on his waist that looked like it physically weighed him down.

“Uh, hi, I-I’m Spencer Reid, Garcia told me about you. It’s nice to meet you.” His lips were in a straight line, and he didn’t make direct eye contact with you. You smiled at him.

“(Y/n) (y/l/n).” Without responding, he picked up his pace a bit, catching up to the two women in front of you. Garcia chuckled.

“He’s not the most social butterfly in the garden.” You scoffed, laughing lightly yourself. She assured you he would warm up to you though, which made you feel better. You didn’t want a single member of the team to dislike you.

You all eventually gathered in the debriefing room, and you couldn’t help but wonder where Hotch was. Penelope introduced you to the other agents sitting at the table that you hadn’t met yet, and they welcomed you warmly. Agent Rossi said something about always needing extra help, which gave you a nice feeling in your chest.

JJ stood to present the case, and not a second later, Hotch walked in the door. She must have seen him coming. The only empty seat left happened to be next to yours, and he took it. He gave you a very small smile, then turned to face JJ. You suddenly remembered you were in a room full of profilers; if you were going to steal glances at Hotch, well, it’s probably better you didn’t. How frowned upon is a relationship with the boss, especially with someone not even officially part of the team? You didn’t want to think about that, it was just a silly little crush after all.

Pictures from crime scenes and documents you had to be closer to the screen to completely identify crowded every screen in the debriefing room. A twelve-year-old boy went missing outside of Seward, Nebraska. Unfortunately, he wasn’t missing long, because his body was found in a ditch off of an interstate not three days after he was reported missing. The cause of death was asphyxiation, and there were signs of sexual assault, post mortem.

“You know, this reminds me of the Oakland County Child Killer. He was responsible for the killings of four children in Oakland County, Michigan in 1976 and 1977. Each child's body was discovered in a public area within 19 days of their disappearance, two boys and two girls. The children were all either strangled or shot, and the two boys had been sexually abused.” All this information at once took you by surprise; how did he know all of that? It was like he was reading it straight from a book.

“Are there any more missing kids in the area? This could be some kind of copycat.” Morgan questioned.

“There hasn't been any reported since this boy, Nathan Harrison. Reid, how far apart did the Oakland County Child killer take his victims? If this is a copycat killer, we could try to estimate when the next victim might be.” JJ asked him.

Reid thought for a moment. “His first victim was in February of 1976, and he didn’t kidnap again until December of that year. Then, though, the last two victims were taken only months apart in 1977. I don’t believe this killer had a pattern, other than always placing the bodies where they could easily be seen.” Hotch sighs, eyes darting around the table that’s filled with case files and crime scene photos like he’s taking in all the information. His dark brows are furrowed; you guess he’s thinking of what the team should do next.

“Well, I don’t want to wait around and see if he makes his own M.O. or if he follows this killer’s actions. We’re going to need to do more research on the Oakland County killer and if there are anymore unsolved child cases in Nebraska that might be connected to our unsub. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch looks around the room at everyone as he says this, and his gaze lingers a second longer on you before he leaves the room. The other agents start gathering the files and coffee mugs they may have brought into the room and head out too.

“Just like that, they’re gone?” You ask Penelope, turning your chair to face hers. You were the only two people left in the room. She nods.

“Just like that. You and I will stay behind and help with all the fun behind the scenes stuff unless they need us out there later.” She stands, jewelry jingling with the motion. You followed suit, trailing behind her back to her office. Looking around the room, the agents were carrying duffel bags out the door and to the elevator. You saw Hotch still standing in his office, preparing his bag and making sure he had everything.

“You think they’d let me come with you?” Your voice lowered. Secretly, she knew you meant Hotch. You didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, this was their case after all.

She only nodded, dangling earrings swinging as she did so. Hotch exited his office and you tried to inconspicuously watch where he was going. You’re sure you can’t have been that sly about it though. He rounded the corner and looked like he was going to go out the door, but he stopped behind you two, calling out for Garcia. You turned around in sync to face him.

“I don’t know what we’re walking in to yet, I want you to have a go-bag ready if needed.” He turned to face you. “(Y/l/n), if you’re comfortable with coming along with us now you’re more than welcome. We’re leaving in fifteen.” With that, he slid past you, walking through the doors to the elevator in the hall. For a split second, you felt his body heat in your space; you even caught a little whiff of his cologne.

You looked over at Garcia. You didn’t know what to do; you were here to shadow as a technical analyst, not as a profiler. You weren’t supposed to be in the field, it wasn’t the plan. You searched her face to try and figure out what she might say next, and if she was okay with you going. Maybe it could be fun, a good experience. It might be a chance to get to know the team better, maybe one to get to know your temporary boss better too…

“You can go if you want to honey, I know it appeals to some people. I am not some people, however. I like my office. My screens. And hey, nobody said you had to stay here. Maybe they’ll make you wanna be a profiler.” She placed a hand on your arm, gently patting it, her smile beaming at you. You gave her a small smile back.

“I don’t know Garcia, I don’t know the first thing about being in the field and profiling and working an actual case like that. I’ve been studying tech stuff, it’s all I know.” Your lips tightened and your brows knitted. Your eyes fell to the floor; you couldn’t look her in the eyes. It felt like you were abandoning her, as silly as it sounds.

“I may not be a profiler, but I can tell you want to work this case out there. I’ll still be here when you come back in one piece.” A small smile came upon your lips, and you met her eyes.

“Thank you, Garcia.” She smiled with her lips. Her eyes scanned your body.

“If you end up needing to stay there, you can probably fit Prentiss’s or JJ’s clothes. I’m going to send you all the teams’ contact information too. Be careful. Tell them they better take care of my girl.” She gave you a quick, unexpected kiss to the forehead. Turning into her office, she grabbed your purse and handed it over to you. She told you where to go to board the jet, and you hurried out to the elevator. You heard her laugh behind you, but you didn’t care. You were excited to be going into the field and getting to be able to know the team and all the ins and outs of the job. Maybe you did want to be a profiler.

Hotch filled your mind again though, inevitably. You were still thinking of how he extended the invitation to you personally, did that mean something? Maybe he was just being nice to you, trying to make you feel welcome here. Or did he really want you to be there with him and the team, did he want to teach you the ropes and spend more time with you? You shook your head to yourself, now heading out to board the jet. You needed to be focused on this case. But you had a feeling that being in a little space with him for at least three hours, which you knew would feel like so much longer, wouldn’t help your focus at all.

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Note

(if you feel like it) what about “snowed in” or “comfort” with jontim for the tma december bingo? my jontim brainrot never stops and I’d love to see what you come up with (I’m sure it’d be amazing as always) thanks so much !

The JonTim brainrot is real and appreciated! I combined this prompt with one of @balanced-to-a-tea‘s, who asked for Secret Santa with the season one archives gang! Here there be 3.5k words of gifts, pining, and kisses of the Jon/Tim variety :)

“It’s a mess out there,” Tim reported, plopping down in his office chair and looking strangely cheerful, given the situation. “Looks like we’re stuck here for the time being.”

There were audible groans all around, though Jon’s was quieter than the others. If he were being honest, their current situation was his fault- he asked them to hang back at the end of the day and help him with some unreachable boxes (unreachable for him, that is). He was trying to get into the habit of checking the weather in the mornings, though he never managed to actually do it until he was too far from his flat to get an umbrella or a heavier coat. This resulted in a few sticky situations, including several occasions of arriving late, looking like a drowned rat.

“And here I was going to tuck in for the night, have a glass of wine, blast the heat at unreasonable levels,” Sasha complained, doing a half-hearted twirl in her chair. “Terrible!”

“What if we lose power?” Martin fretted, still outfitted in his coat and scarf. “I heard there’s going to be high winds. High winds!” Jon’s guilt increased. Being stuck with his (likely angry) staff in the Archives was not a great start to his career as Head Archivist. And just when we were getting along again…

“I’m sorry,” he began, his hands fidgeting. “I shouldn’t have started this project so late, I didn’t realize the weather would get quite as nasty as it did…”

“Don’t worry about it, boss!” Tim grinned, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on his desk, an act Jon would usually scowl at him for. “Should’ve told you ‘bout the storm. You never check the weather reports.” Jon flushed; Tim knew him too well. “Besides, I can’t say I was expecting it to get this bad; London’s not known for its prodigious snowfall.”

“You don’t seem too put-out by it.” Martin eyed Tim suspiciously as he began to unwind his scarf. “You’re smiling.”

“Well, yeah!” Tim swirled around, eyeing them all with an unfettered glee. Jon wondered what he had in mind; there was never a dull moment when Tim had free time. He’d learned that the hard way. “There’s something so romantic about being snowed-in, don’t you agree, Jon?”

Jon did not agree; being trapped, even in a big building like the Institute, left him feeling anxious and restless. Sasha agreed, if her rolled eyes were anything to go by. Martin seemed to be considering it, though.

“I suppose there’s something poetic about it?” he mused, leaning back against the wall. “The snow falling, blanketing the ground in white…” All eyes turned to him and he blushed under the scrutiny.

“See! Martin’s got the spirit.” Tim clapped his hands and got to his feet. “We’ve got leftovers from lunch in the fridge. Between that and Martin’s stash of tea biscuits, we won’t go hungry. And there’s that weird frozen lasagna in the back of the freezer…”

“We don’t have an oven, Tim,” Jon pointed out. “And I’m fairly certain that’s been in there for more than a year.”

Tim continued, impervious to any criticism. “And if we have to stay the night, Jon’s got that cot he thinks we don’t know about-”

“Hey-!”

“-and we can raid all the break rooms for their gross cushions-”

“I am not sleeping here,” Sasha said, punctuating the statement with a slam of a hand on her desk. “The weather report says it's supposed to pass over soon. We’ll only be here for a few hours, tops.”

“Weather reports are wrong all the time, Sash! Think of the fun we could get up to.” Tim smiled and Jon’s heart stuttered without his permission, most likely due to the idea of what Tim considered ‘fun.’ With the way his eyes lit up, however, Jon couldn’t fight a small smile. “Ooh! We could do Secret Santa, like we used to do in Research. Remember?”

Jon did remember. He still kept some of the gifts he’d received, mostly small trinkets from Tim and Sasha that somehow managed to give him a small thrill of happiness whenever he saw them. Still, he didn’t know how they could do such a thing in the Archives, with nothing around that could constitute a gift.

“How’re we supposed to do that?” Martin asked, sharing Jon’s concern. “Statements and office supplies are the only things we have access to.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Tim replied, nudging Martin with his foot. “We’ll get creative! I’m sure with a little thought and effort, we can all find something suitable.” He’d already begun to scribble their names on a piece of paper. “C’mon, it’ll pass the time. Please?” Jon sighed, unable to argue when Tim used his most pathetic puppy-dog eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes at Tim’s whoop of enthusiasm. “But don’t expect anything extravagant. I’m not feeling particularly creative.”

“I guess it could be a good distraction,” Sasha acquiesced, with Martin nodding tentatively. “How long do we get to find a gift? Or make one, I suppose.”

“An hour? Two? Then we can all meet back here and exchange!” Tim nodded, and without waiting for any agreement he crumpled the pieces of paper into a cup and stood up. “Martin, you first. No peeking!”

“I won’t,” he mumbled, reaching in with one hand with his head turned pointedly away. He pulled out a slip of paper and immediately turned red upon opening it. “Um, alright. Yeah.” Maybe he got Tim, Jon mused.

Sasha picked next, her face giving nothing away. Tim held the cup out to Jon, waggling his eyebrows. He ignored this, reaching in to pick one of the remaining two slips of paper. Tim!! It read, with several smiley faces and hearts. He felt his own face heating up and shoved the slip into his pocket, staring at the floor.

“And last but certainly not least, me!” Tim took the last slip with a flourish, grinning at what he read. The four of them stared at each other for an awkward beat until Tim broke the silence with a shrill whistle.

“What are you waiting for? Clock’s a tickin’!”

Fuck.

________

It had been an hour and a half. As far as Jon knew, Tim and Sasha were waiting in the break room, steadily demolishing Martin’s stash of sweets, the man himself having locked himself in Document Storage and thereby eliminating one more place for Jon to scavenge for a gift (not that there was anything in there, but it was the principle of the thing). So now here he sat, moping in his office with nary an idea for what to give Tim.

Tim. He was glad they’d started talking again, albeit not with the same frequency as before. There was of course an adjustment period, that was to be expected- especially when someone younger and arguably less qualified than quite a few candidates suddenly became your boss. But Tim had always been there for him, tolerated his quirks, helped him through a breakdown or two. He stuck by his side when most people in the department couldn’t stand him. Perhaps, with some time, they could go back to being as close as they were. Or closer.

Jon tamped that thought down- it was ridiculous to even think about, now that he was his boss. Professional boundaries aside, what would Tim even see in him? It wasn’t his fault Jon read into every wink, every casual word of praise. A hug or a warm arm around his shoulder that he leaned into instead of turning away. Tim did that with everyone, Jon wasn’t special. He wasn’t Sasha, with her beautiful laugh and her razor-sharp wit. Hell, he’d probably pick Martin over him. Someone nicer, with less sharp edges. Someone who laughed as easily as he did.

Someone who wasn’t Jon.

He shook himself from these thoughts, attempting to concentrate on the task at hand. What did he have that Tim could possibly want? Not his rubber band ball, though he knew that Tim was jealous of its now astronomical proportions (he added to it when he was stressed, which he always was these days). Not the stale packet of crisps in the bottom of his drawer. He thought vaguely of getting a book he thought Tim would like from the library, but that was more of a loan. Maybe an article he found interesting? Tim always used to read the ones Jon forwarded him, and even had a thing or two to say at the end of them. But maybe he found them annoying. Maybe he just did that to shut Jon up. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Jon’s thoughts kept straying to the foyer of the institute, where festive decorations had been set up at the start of the month, most likely Rosie’s doing. There was a beautiful handmade wreath, filled with pinecones and red flowers and other seasonal flora. He remembered back in Research, when Tim would terrorize them all with stupid little pranks and games, his main target being Jon. Jon would always duck away, grumble and complain, and Tim didn’t take it personally. Maybe I’ll indulge him just this once.

Mind made up, he slipped out of his office.

________

Tim watched his three friends with undisguised amusement.

Martin was fidgeting in his seat, constantly crinkling the grocery bag he’d decorated to look more seasonal. Tim knew at once that he’d gotten Jon; he wouldn’t have turned that red for anyone else. Poor sod. Tim had Sasha, a gift he wouldn’t sweat over. She appreciated a good gag. He was fairly certain Sasha got Martin, judging by her neutral, unbothered expression.

Or maybe he just hoped she did. Because that would mean that Jon got Tim.

Not that it would mean anything. He was just interested in what Jon would pick out, that’s all. He could be surprisingly thoughtful, if past gifts were anything to go by. He still had the small box of fidget toys on his desk, where they got regular use.

He clapped his hands decisively, attempting to clear his mind of any more Jon-thoughts. “Well, then. As the emcee for this event, I’ll go first. Sasha, may I present to you the Tim Stoker Coupon Bonanza, valued at over one thousand dollars- but for you? Free!”

He revealed it with all the fanfare of a marriage proposal, bending down on one knee to hand over a binder of hastily drawn nonsense that Sasha would surely appreciate. She took it just as delicately, thumbing through the pages with a delightful smirk.

“One free coffee from the place around the corner?” She put a hand to her chest in faux- surprise. “Tim, you shouldn’t have!” Never mind that he already got her coffee every morning.

“I know, I know. I’m too generous, really.”

“One three hour lunch break. Don’t think Jon would like that.”

“He can come along. Marto too!”

“One date to the Jade Buffet, where we will split the check- Tim, the rest of these are more for you than they are-”

“Moving on!” He interrupted. “Sasha, why don’t you show us what you’ve got?” She ignored his wink, shutting the book with an over-exaggerated sigh. She reached out for a small bag on her desk, which she handed over to Martin. He thanked her quietly, unwrapping a mug- Sasha’s favorite, with a cartoon of a dog that she’d hand-painted (Sharpie’d, would be more accurate) to look like one of those highland cows Martin was always going on about. The entire effect was monstrous, but Martin seemed touched. Tim was happy too, as this meant Jon must have drawn his name.

“Oh that’s- that’s so nice, thank you Sasha!” His smile was infectious, even Jon wasn’t immune to it (though he tried to hide it).

“It’ll probably come off if you wash it, so I wouldn’t actually use it,” Sasha advised. “But it could make a nice pencil holder.”

“Oh! That’s handy-”

“Ahem!” Tim once again interrupted; he was eager to see what Martin had whipped up for Jon, considering he’d holed himself up for about two hours. “Martin, I believe it’s your turn?”

“Um, y-yeah.” He put the cup down with some reluctance, picking up the bag he’d decorated with snowflakes and trees and handing it over to Jon, who looked surprised that anyone had gotten him anything. It was an expression Tim was used to; Jon never expected kindness, even in circumstances when he would very clearly receive it. Silly man.

As soon as Jon began to reach into the bag, Martin stumbled through an explanation. “You don’t need to keep it, n-not if you don’t want, but y-you’re always saying you’re cold and y’know, I have extras, so-”

Martin had given Jon one of his many scarves, this one a worn, dark green that was sure to look lovely with his skin tone. He spent two hours deciding on that? It was a nice gift, for sure. Jon held it in his hands like it was completely foreign to him, though Tim could see him running his fingers over the knit appreciatively, looking at it with wide eyes.

“B-But this is your scarf, Martin,” he said, once he found the words. “I can’t-”

“Well now it’s yours,” Martin replied, his voice steadying with resolve. “Anyway, I um- it’s got your name on it. Or your initials, at least.” He gave a nervous laugh, his face turning even redder if possible.

And sure enough, at the end of the scarf was a small, messy embroidered J.S., along with a crude attempt at a small cat face. The effort was adorable, and it sent a pang through Tim’s chest for several reasons he didn’t want to name.

“T-That’s- well, thank you, Martin.” Jon ran his fingers over the small ‘J’ as if it would disappear if he looked away. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” Jon placed it almost reverently back in the bag, giving Martin a rare, genuine smile, one that Tim wished he had put on his face. Stop that.

“Jon’s turn!” he said, mustering up his last bit of enthusiasm. “I for one have no idea who Jon got, so this is going to be a real surprise-”

“S-Shut up, Tim.” Jon muttered, reaching for something behind him. He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled out a small sprig of what looked to be pine needles, because it couldn’t be what Tim thought it was, no sir, that wouldn’t make sense-

He watched as Jonathan Sims moved closer and with shaking hands and a beet-red face, moved up on his tippy-toes to hold a tiny sprig of mistletoe above their heads. And then, in what surely must have been a hallucination or a dream sequence, two lips met his in a tiny peck of a kiss that was over before Tim could truly register it.

He stared unblinking as Jon sank back on his heels, his eyes still tightly shut from the kiss. Tim brought a hand up to his mouth, the warm tingle of slightly chapped lips on his still fresh in his mind. Jon began to stutter in the absolute silence of the room, stumbling backwards without looking up from his feet.

“I’m, um- I-I have to. S-Sorry! I’m going to... goodbye now.”

And with that Jonathan Sims fled the room, leaving three stupefied assistants in his wake.

_________

“Knock Knock!”

Tim tried to keep his voice as light as possible. He didn’t think Jon could stand anything more than that right now.

He’d given him a half hour of solitude, enough for him to overcome whatever embarrassment he felt over the encounter. Martin was stewing in a corner, looking shell-shocked and mopey over the turn of events. Tim was just as shocked as he was. Little Jonathan Sims, grumpy researcher and now even grumpier Head Archivist, giving Tim a kiss? Under the mistletoe?

“Go get him,” Sasha smirked, kicking his chair. “Bring him some food. And maybe return the favor.”

So he took a plate of reheated Pad Thai and a bottle of rum he kept under his desk for special occasions, hoping to win Jon over. Let him know the kiss was much appreciated, and that perhaps he’d like another if Jon was so inclined.

The man jumped up from his desk, where he’d had his head pillowed in his arms and his chunkiest cardigan wrapped around him for warmth. It was getting colder, and Tim hadn’t checked outside recently, too distracted by current events. His face was still flushed red, and he wouldn’t meet Tim’s eyes. I’ll have to change that.

“Thought I’d come bearing gifts.” He waved the bottle of rum around for Jon to see as he walked into the room. “Of the food and drink variety. But I wouldn’t mind a repeat of what happened in the break room.” He threw in a wink for good measure- God, why couldn’t he ever be serious? He always fell back on jokes and teasing words.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Tim,” Jon groaned, reaching out for the rum and pouring a liberal amount into a mug that previously housed tea. He still avoided Tim’s eyes. “That was completely inappropriate, I-I just couldn’t think of-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he placed the food down on Jon’s desk, ignoring the pain in his heart at the apology. So he didn’t mean it. He plopped down on Jon’s couch, trying to feign a lightness he didn’t feel as he drank straight from the bottle. “No harm, no foul. It was nice.” He shrugged. Jon moved from his desk to join him on the couch, looking so adorable and cozy that Tim had to restrain from taking him in his arms. He watched as Jon took two large mouthfuls of the rum, knocking it back like a champ. Jesus. And then he raised his eyes to his, meeting them with a wide-eyed hopefulness that made Tim’s heart stutter in his chest.

“So- so you didn’t mind?”

“Nope.” Tim took another sip of the rum, wondering where this was going. He wouldn’t…

“Then you-,” Jon gulped, seemingly gathering his courage. “You wouldn’t mind if we- that is, if I maybe did it again?”

Tim stared.

“I-I still have the mistletoe.��

Jon sat there, so earnest and vulnerable, his hands fidgeting with the drink in his lap. Tim remembered the first time he laid eyes on him, the taciturn young researcher with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. He imagined asking him on a date, getting to know the man under that prickly exterior. Making him laugh, getting that rare smile that Martin got today. But he didn’t seem interested and Tim never wanted to push it, too respectful of his boundaries.

But maybe he hadn’t imagined the way Jon leaned into his touch. How he laughed at Tim’s shitty jokes a bit longer than necessary. That the looks he got in the library weren’t ones of annoyance, but fondness. So he set the bottle down, took the drink out of Jon’s hands and replaced it with the warm grip of his own. His voice came out low, quiet and serious and utterly unlike him.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” And he leaned in and kissed Jonathan Sims, just like he wanted to do all those years ago.

It was a sweet, lingering thing- the taste of rum on his lips, lips that parted so easily for Tim like he’d been waiting, wanting this for so long, maybe even as long as Tim had. And when they finally parted, Jon stared at him with those deep brown eyes and gave him the smile he’d been wishing for and it was just for him. He put that there.

“Was-was that okay?” he murmured, feeling nervous and open under Jon’s intense gaze.

“Yes,” was the whispered response. He let out a small, charming laugh that Tim would always remember when he thought back to this night, the first night of many stolen kisses and secret smiles. “I-I liked that.”

“Well, good!” Tim could no longer contain the urge to have Jon in his arms and pulled him to his chest, appreciating the small squeak it earned him. “Because there’s more where that came from.” Jon leaned into his touch, as if trying to leech every bit of warmth from Tim that he could. It felt so utterly right to be here, on this uncomfortable couch with an armful of the man he’d been pining over for the last three years. Score, a giddy part of his mind yelled. They laid there in silence for a few minutes, reveling in the feeling of affection finally realized when Jon’s head perked up from his chest, a concerned look in his eyes.

“Do you think Rosie’s going to notice I nicked her mistletoe?”

Tim snickered. “Oh, absolutely. But I’ll take the fall. She’s not getting that back.”

Jon was always thoughtful with his gifts. And this was one he intended to keep.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201134

#prompt fill #my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jontim #jonathan sims #tim stoker #advent archives #fluff #pining #i will not apologize for the sappiness of this #submit to my jontim agenda #cinnamoniic

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fluffi · 3 years

Text

SNOW-COVERED KISS :: FELIX

pairing: felix x gn!reader

genre: 70% fluff, 30% angst, barista!felix, angst subplot

word count: 2k

author’s note: hi @constellynx! you knew already, but im your secret santa! you mightve deactivated by now (which im pissed at myself for not uploading sooner) but if you havent i hope you enjoy this! have a great new year :)

warnings: mentions of getting stood up

Maybe it was the fact that it was a Friday morning and you had no classes, or that you had walked past the cute little coffee shop on the corner of Avenue street twenty times this week, and you still hadn’t bothered to check it out. Nonetheless, you had the afternoon free today, and you were planning to spend it at Little Leaf Café.

“Welcome to Little Leaf! We hope you have a wonderful time here!” Chorused voices from employees at the café echoed as you opened the door to cold air and overlapping conversations.

It was a gorgeous café, you could tell why it was so popular. Plants of various colors were placed around the area -- hung from grids on the ceiling, on tables, growing on the sides of the walls. Not to mention the festive decorations — an assortment of green and red items meticulously placed around the café.

However, there was something...rather, someone, that was way more gorgeous than the entire café.

“Hello! How can I help you today?”

You were met with an ethereal face after lining up for what felt like ages. As soon as the last heart-struck girl left, an angel entered your line of view.

The sunny boy stood across the counter with a googly smile on his face. You noticed the way his eyes crinkled upwards, and how the apples of his cheeks turned a shade of baby pink when he saw you. He had a silver mullet that looked perfectly trimmed and maintained...you were tempted to run your hands through it. However, his contrasting baritone voice caught you off guard.

In shock and nervousness of talking to new (handsome) people, you completely messed up.

“Hi...I, um, anything? I’ll get anything?” You stuttered and internally facepalmed.

You just embarrassed yourself in front of a very cute boy, but he didn’t seem to notice. Rather, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Sure, I can give you some recommendations. Right now our xmas-special Peppermint Mocha is popular, but if I’m going to be honest, it’s not one of my favorites. I would recommend the Gingerbread Spiced Coffee, but it's your call.” He leaned over the counter and whispered, looking around to make sure his boss didn’t hear him.

As he leaned over to talk to you, you were able to see him clearer. He had glowing skin and his eyes sparkled in excitement, but it made you feel calm. You felt serene and happy looking into his dazzling brown orbs.

Just then, said eyes blinked and squinted at you. That brought you down to Earth.

“Right, right! I’ll get whatever you said! The Singerbread Giced Coffee?” You nodded your head in panic before you realized what you just said.

“Uh, it's called the Gingerbread Spiced Coffee, but sure. Anything else?” He looked back at you after inputting your order with a teasing gleam in his eye.

“Nothing else. I’m sorry, I’m such a mess today!” You bowed in embarrassment and looked at your fidgeting fingers.

He chuckled. “Nothing to worry about. What’s your name?”

“Y/N. What’s yours?” You answered, before realizing that he only needed it to write your name on the plastic cup.

“Oh! I’ve never had anyone ask me my name before. It’s Felix.” He flashed another dazzling smile at you before handing you a table number.

Felix put your order on the pick up table and left to man the counter. Through your peripheral vision, however, you could catch him nervously glancing at you. Ignoring the rising butterflies in your stomach, you walked over to your reserved seat and placed your tray down.

However, as you were about to take a sip of your specially recommended drink, you glanced down and saw your receipt, with a specially written note on it.

Hi, Y/N. If you see this. Read my continued message on the serviette under your drink ;)

-felix

Your heart shuddered as you began to overthink pretty much every possibility that could happen between you and Felix. Maybe he wrote you a note to tell you that you were annoying? Maybe kind of weird? A little cuckoo? A bunch of mind-boggling thoughts started circulating your brain as you slowly flipped your serviette over.

Hi Y/N.

I know this seems like a really unconventional method, but I honestly don’t have the courage to ask someone out on a date in person hehe. Oops! I just said it...uh, would you want to go out with me on a date? I think you’re really cute and I love your personality! Also, um, you’re really pretty.

I was thinking that we can maybe meet at the 31st Bus Stop at 4pm? I have a shift till 3.30 so I could go there and meet you. We can plan everything else out later :3

If you’re already taken, that's alright! You can ignore this message. But do what you will with the information I gave you.

-felix the little leaf barista dude

Your face was in a dark shade of beet red as you looked up timidly and immediately locked eyes with Felix. You tried not to smile as you looked away and giggled shyly.

On Felix’s side, he had been staring at you ever since you took your order. When the two of you met eyes, his entire body froze, and he stopped what he was doing, dropping his half-washed cup into the sink.

“Dude, what are you doing, I- “ Bang Chan, his senior colleague and friend, followed Felix’s line of sight to you and chuckled slyly.

“In my opinion, the color of their face probably means that they’ll go out with you. Get back to work Lix, or you might not be able to see her later.” He nudged Felix’s side, prompting him to continue working. Felix looked up at Bang Chan in confusion and continued his work, still glancing at you occasionally.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. How can I help yo-oh. Oh.” Felix looked up at you smiling, still blessed with a tinge of pink across your cheeks.

“I should’ve given more context. Yes, I’ll go out with you tonight!” You didn’t know where you received this newfound confidence, but you were going to use all of it.

“Oh, really? That’s great! I’ll meet you there then. Be careful, okay? Can’t have you getting hurt before we have our first date.”

Once again you had melted into a puddle of nervousness. Unable to voice out anything, you nodded your head multiple times and ran out the café. Your hands were cold from the chilly season, but your heart was warm from the cute barista.

It was ten past four. You were sitting under the shade of 31st Bus Stop, fidgeting with the hem of your waistband and looking around, by yourself.

You weren’t losing hope, you were sure Felix was on his way right now. He would never stand you up, right?

Right?

Regardless, you sat on the uncomfortable metal bench in freezing weather, and you were about to text him, when…

You realized you didn’t have his phone number.

You weren’t going to go home, however. Determined Y/N was planning to wait for as long as it would take. You trusted Felix.

Forty minutes now. You had been playing some mobile games, looking out at the bustling street in front of you. During the winter season, the sun set earlier, so it was already dark and it definitely wasn’t safe for you to be alone. However, you were determined that Felix would arrive soon.

Five more minutes was what you told yourself as you stared out into the empty road, now barren of cars as the rush hour was over.

“Lee Yongbok, where do you think you’re going?”

Felix cursed under his breath and turned to Mr. Park with a small smile. “I’m done with my shift boss, I’ll get going now.”

“Felix, it's peak season right now. If you don’t remember what I told you guys during the brief meeting, I’ll say it again. From the 12th of December to the 25th of December, all of you have your shifts extended for two hours due to the influx of customers during the Christmas season. Is that so hard to understand?” Mr. Park crossed his arms and squinted at Felix.

“Mr. Park, I’ve understood that rule. I did my two-hour extension, now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going now. I have somewhere to be.” Felix tried opening the door and walking out but was pulled back by a stronger arm grabbing his.

“Nuh-uh, young man. I’m sure that whatever event you have today isn’t going to be as important as the wellbeing of Little Leaf. Now if you’ll excuse me, do get your apron and hat back on and go back to manning the counter.” Mr. Park mocked.

Felix sighed and tried one last time at changing the mind of his horrible boss. “But Mr. Park, I swear, I did my two-hour extension, you can check the roster if you-”

“Get back to work, boy. Unless you want to start a new job in 2021.”

Felix sighed and threw his bag down, walking to the staff room to retie his apron.

Later, when Mr. Park checked the roster, he would find out that Felix did do his two-hour extension, and that he never lied.

An hour and a half, that was how long you waited. No one would ever wait for that long. No one would ever stay alone at late hours of the day, waiting for someone who probably wouldn’t even show up.

Tears stung your eyes as you sighed and stood up, huffing and smoothening your outfit out. You thought that Felix had probably stood you up. It was probably a dare, maybe he had been dared to write a generic love serviette to some desperate person who fell for his charming looks. Even then you couldn’t help but think of Felix, and tears streamed down your face as you trudged back home.

“Y/N! Y/N, wait up! Y/N, don’t leave, hear me out.” The voice you had been waiting for finally could be heard.

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face a panting Felix. His hair was disheveled, apron still on, and his jacket was worn the wrong way round. What an entrance to a first date.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Mr. Park honestly...he kept me for an hour more, before I convinced him to let me leave. I don’t know why, I’m so sorry. I honestly didn’t think you would be here, no one would stay that long. Please, give me another chance?” Felix took a few steps closer to you but maintained his distance. His eyes scanned yours for any response.

“I’m- I mean, it's not your fault...but you made me wait for so long. I just, I don’t know what to say. I thought you stood me up.” Your eyes watered once again.

Felix immediately waved his hands in denial and took one more step closer to you. “No, no, Y/N. I would never. I’m sorry if you thought I would ever stand you up. I should have made my way here over faster, if only I gave you my phone number. I’m so sorry-”

Your eyes suddenly widened, and you looked up. White, shimmering, pieces of ice fell upon the both of you. You stared at him in awe, mouth open wide.

It hadn’t snowed in Seoul for a long, long time. Maybe this moment was special.

Felix smiled back at you. Amidst the white rain, he took a few steps closer to you until the both of you were so close that you could...kiss.

“Y/N. I apologize. I’m sorry for being a horrible first date. Will you forgive me?” His dark chocolate orbs glanced into yours, dragging you into a new universe.

“Yes. I’ll forgive you.” You whispered, looking at the ground.

His eyes scanned yours for any sort of consolation. He didn’t even need to ask anymore. “Y/N, can I kiss you?” He quietly asked, using his pointer finger to tilt your chin upwards.

As you nodded, he leaned in and placed his lips on yours, as the both of you stood amidst the snow. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he put his around your waist and the both of you deepened the kiss.

Two lone beings, coming together as one, in the midst of a snow-struck city.

2021 © fluffi

102 notes · View notes

lovely-ateez · 3 years

Text

Silver Nights With You~

ꕥPosted: 12/18/20

ꕥGenre: College!au, Christmas Imagine, Fluff, Angst & Smut (You know it’s gonna end happy, I’m a sap)

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Mingi

ꕥSummary: You get stuck in a cabin with Mingi and shit goes down( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

ꕥWord Count: ~4.9k (Holy shit I’ve never written this much before I am so sorry)

ꕥWarnings: Angst, Thigh riding, Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it my dudes), Praise (m & f receiving),

ꕥA/N: This is the most angst I will ever write, I was genuinely on the brink of tears while writing this because I honestly can’t stand people being sad. Anyway this literally took me days to write and I really hope you all like it :)

ꕥTagging: @raysanshine

“It’s fucking cold.” I took a sip of my hot cocoa, burying myself deeper in the mountain of blankets on my lap, glancing at the snow falling outside.

Wooyoung scoffed and spread his arms along the back of his couch, “It’s December, of course it’s gonna be cold.”

I turned back to him, “Okay, yeah, but I’m still gonna complain about it.”

“You complain about everything.”

“That is a gross over-exaggeration that portrays me in an unfair light and, frankly, you should be ashamed.”

My closest friend smiled, showing his slight dimples. His eyes drifted to my own, smile fading slightly. “What do I have to do for you to join us? Even for an hour or so?”

I sighed. Wooyoung had been bothering me about coming to our friend Yunho’s annual Christmas party for days now, but I simply wasn’t in the mood.

“I’d rather not go at all.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

A year ago at the same party, my boyfriend Mingi broke up with me. It wasn’t a bad breakup, but it still hurt. He was set to study abroad for the next year and it just made the most sense to him, he told me. So who was I to stand in the way of his dreams? We decided to cut contact shortly after, it being too painful for us to even have small talk. We hadn’t talked since.

I’d spent the following year in a limbo, trying my hardest to enjoy my newfound independence, but ultimately failing, my thoughts somehow finding their way back to Mingi. Everything reminded me of him.

Rainy days made me think of the way he loved to dance with me in the rain, spinning me and smiling wide, warm raindrops messing up our hair. Sunny days made me think of the times we’d both take off work to have picnics, making wishes on dandelions. Stormy days made me think of how we’d cuddle up to one another and watch a trash movie, making fun of the characters’ bad choices. He was a part of me. He always would be. I suppose two years of dating does that. I suppose they take a part of you with them, too.

I told myself I healed. I told myself I was over him. But deep, deep down I knew I wasn’t. Part of me never would be.

“He won’t be there this year, if that helps at all.”

I remained silent, refusing Wooyoung a response, looking down at the carpet.

“I get it. I know what you’re going through. It really wasn’t that long ago that Aisha broke up with me.”

My eyes darted up. Wooyoung hadn’t talked about their breakup with me yet. I refused to push him, knowing he was still in pain and that he’d tell me when he was ready.

“It was for the best but I can’t pretend like I’m gonna move on soon. We were dating for a year and a half for god’s sake.” He let out a bitter laugh and turned to me, “I know it’s tough, but would you do it for me? Please come.”

“Okay.”

The high shrill of a female voice rang out through my phone, leading me to pull the device away from my ear.

“I knew Wooyoung could get you to change your mind!”

“Arin I get that you’re excited, but I’m gonna go deaf if you keep yelling.”

“Ack I’m sorry! I’m just so excited to see you! It’s been, what? Five months since I saw you last?”

“Yeah something like that.”

“Well anyways, I know it’s probably tough for you but I really appreciate you going. I know everyone else will, too.”

I tried to push down the longing I felt for Mingi, remembering the previous year in far too much detail.

“Yeah it’ll be nice to see them.”

“Okay I hate to cut it short but my boss might actually fire me if he finds me on my phone again.”

“You’re literally dating him. There’s no way in hell he’d fire you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Shh not so loud!”

I rolled my eyes, knowing I was speaking no louder than usual.

“Alright. Take care then. I’ll see you at the party.”

“Yep! Love you, girly!”

“Love you, too. See ya.”

My phone beeped, signaling the end of the call.

I checked the calendar hanging on the wall of my bedroom. Three more days till the party and I was dreading it more and more.

A knock at the door startled me and I made my way over, opening the door to find Wooyoung standing before me with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“What are you doing here?”

“What? Can’t a guy just drop by to say hello to his best friend?”

“He can, but you only do when you’re up to something. What is it this time?”

“Nothing! Scout’s honor!” He lifted a hand to make the famous three-fingered salute.

“You were never a boy scout, dumbass.”

Wooyoung brought a hand to his chest, mocking offense, “I’ll have you know that I simply brought flowers over as a thank you for agreeing to come with us.”

“Aww really? Do you wanna come in?”

“Yeah, really. But nah I can’t stay, I just wanted to drop them off.”

“You’re sweet.”

A cocky smile formed on his face, “I know.”

He passed the flowers over to me, giving me a hug and saying his goodbyes. I watched him walk to his car, a little skip in his step, wondering how anyone could let him go.

I grabbed my warmest jacket and walked out to my car. Today was the day I’d been dreading for weeks. Today was the day I’d have to put on a brave face and pretend I was alright. I mentally hyped myself up as I slid into the driver’s seat.

You’ll be okay. You’re strong. You can do this.

Snow was already starting to fall and I made a mental note to be careful. After all, Yunho’s cabin was roughly an hour away.

As I drove, the snow began to fall much faster, leaving me no choice but to feel concerned. My car didn’t have four-wheel-drive and what if my car got stuck? I was only fifteen minutes away but in snow like this with such a low temperature, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk the rest of the way.

The sun had already begun to set and seeing the road becoming much harder. Only four more minutes with the current speed I was going. I could make it.

Of course, the universe wasn’t having it and my car broke down almost immediately after I had the thought.

“Fuck.”

I panicked for a brief moment, trying to start up my car with no success.

Wait. My phone.

Grabbing my phone at rapid speed, I found it out of battery.

“I literally just charged it what the hell?”

I tried my best to cope with the fact that I had no choice but to walk the rest of the way. Taking a deep breath, I opened my car door and braced for the cold wind.

Trudging through the snow storm, I felt my ears and hands begin to hurt from the cold. I could barely see where I was going, having to rely on remembering where the cabin was based on the times I had been there prior.

Eventually I spotted a cabin in the distance and kept going, feeling myself lose heat with every step.

Finally, I climbed up the stairs and reached the main doorway.

I knocked loudly against the large wooden door, silently pleading for someone to answer. After waiting a few seconds with no response I tried to turn the door knob, grateful to find it unlocked.

I pushed the door open and entered, quickly closing it behind me. Warm air rushed over me and I never felt so thankful for indoor heating. The inside looked the same as it always did; the main door lead to the living room which had the same snow globes above the fireplace as always, the same Christmas decorations scattered throughout, and the Christmas tree in the same corner as usual.

I shivered and moved to find a blanket when I saw a tall figure enter the living room. I looked up, feeling my heart drop. Standing before me was the one man that I didn’t want to be here.

Mingi’s eyes widened and mouth opened, looking at me with surprise. It seemed both of us were frozen, unable to do anything other than look at one another.

His rich chestnut hair was longer than when I saw him last, it was parted in the center, reaching his eyes. He was wearing a fitted green sweater that complimented his honey skin and tight ripped jeans. I refused to allow myself to acknowledge how attractive he truly looked. I refused to tell myself how much I missed him and how I wanted nothing more than to jump in his arms.

“What are you doing here?” I managed to say, hating how timid my voice sounded. It’s because of the cold, I thought.

He seemed to come out of his trance, “I could ask you the same.”

“I’m here for the Christmas party.”

Mingi gave me a confused look. “The party isn’t until the twenty third.”

Annoyed, I narrowed my eyes, “It is the twenty third.”

He raised a brow and took his phone from his pocket, turning it to me, ‘December 19th’ it read.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I huffed, moving to sit down on the couch while running my hands along my arms for some sort of warmth. Mingi noticed immediately and left the room only to bring back several thick blankets.

I removed my jacket and wrapped the blankets around me as tight as I could.

“My car broke down a while back and my phone is dead. Is there anyone here that could give me a ride?” I didn’t want to spend more time with him than I had to. It hurt too damn much.

Mingi gave an apologetic smile, “I’m the only one here, actually.”

I gave the man a confused look, “Why are you here?”

“My second semester ended so I’m no longer studying abroad. I came back to visit friends but didn’t have a place to stay so Yunho has let me stay here for a few days.” He was silent for a few seconds before adding, “I was gonna leave before the party I-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s fine.”

Silence.

“I would take you home if I could, but my car is being fixed right now so it isn’t here. We could call someone maybe if that-”

“Yeah that’s fine. Can I borrow your phone?”

He nodded and handed it over. I didn’t notice it when he showed me his phone before, but his lock screen was different. It shouldn’t have hurt to see that it changed from a selfie of us to a picture of him with friends I assume he made abroad. It shouldn’t have. It had been a year, I should be over him.

I opened his phone without needing a password and tried to hide a smile. He never had a password in all the time I’d known him.

Good to know some things never change.

I dialed Wooyoung’s number and pressed the call button.

“We are sorry, but at this time your service provider is out of range. Please-”

Great.

I handed back his phone, “You don’t have any signal.”

“That’s odd, we always have service here...Do you wanna charge your phone? Maybe you’ll have better luck?”

“Yeah.”

He left the room and I placed my head in my hands, trying to process seeing him for the first time in a year. He was devastatingly handsome and still as kind as always.

I really miss him, don’t I?

His voice started me, “Hand me your phone, I’ll plug it in for you.”

I passed my phone over, accidentally touching his warm hands and I felt a spark run through me which I did my best to ignore. With almost comical timing, just as Mingi reached a plug-in, the lights went out.

“Uhh...that’s not supposed to happen.”

I scoffed, “No kidding. Do we have a generator?”

“Honestly, I don’t think we do.” Mingi gave me a sad look, “It’s been snowing hard outside for hours so there’s no way we’ll be able to leave now. Even with a car.”

“Awesome. I love to hear that.”

“At the very least we’ve got food to last us a few days. We should be okay-”

“Do I look like I want to spend several days here?” I snapped.

He looked taken aback at my words and I felt a pang of regret in my chest.

“I’m not sure we have a choice.”

I hated to admit it, but he was right.

“Do you want any food?”

“Huh?” I asked, confused.

“Are you hungry? I could make you something if you’d like.”

I thought for a moment. “Yeah, actually. If you don’t mind, anyway.”

Mingi shook his head, walking to the kitchen. I didn’t realize how hungry I really was until he mentioned it, so I didn’t care what he made for me.

Minutes later he placed a plate and cup on the coffee table in front of me.

My favorite sandwich and chips. He remembered.

It should have been considered kind, but it just broke my heart a bit further. It was a simple act, but it proved that he stored it in his memory.

He remembered.

“I hope it’s still your favorite. I got you your favorite lemonade, too.”

I nodded, trying to prevent tears from spilling.

“I’ll be honest, I’m not quite sure what to do.”

“Lighting the fireplace would probably be a good start.”

He laughed, “Ah you’re totally right. I’ll be back with a lighter, call out to me if you need anything.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

Stuffing my face with the sandwich, I hummed. I always loved his sandwiches. There was something special about them, knowing that he made them for me, and this one was no different.

Mingi once again returned, this time with a lighter and a blanket, lighting the fire and sitting down on the couch across from me, wrapping himself in the blanket.

I couldn’t help but wonder how I possibly ended up in the current situation. Maybe the universe was out to get me. Who knows?

I took another bite of my sandwich, hoping I’d be able to leave soon.

I briefly glanced over at Mingi to find him on his phone.

Lucky. I wish I had mine so I wouldn’t be so damn bored.

The crackle of the fireplace was the only noise for what seemed like an hour. Neither one of us spoke. Growing tired of not doing anything, I stood and walked towards the fireplace to admire the snow globes. I noticed that behind the globes rested a photo album. I debated whether or not I should open it for the span of a few seconds before my curiosity got the best of me.

Opening it up, I saw pictures of all of our friends from the previous years of Yunho’s Christmas party. I began to walk back to the couch with my eyes on the book when I tripped, some of the pictures falling out. Mingi noticed and quickly rushed over to my side.

“Are you alright?” He was careful not to touch me, I noticed, but he was still right by my side.

“I’m fine, just help me pick these up.” I motioned towards the pictures scattered across the floor.

“Of course.”

We resumed our silence, picking the photos up and placing them back in the book. Noticing Mingi had stopped helping me I looked at him, prepared to make a quick jab at him for not helping, when I saw why he stopped.

In his hands he was holding a picture of the two of us kissing, dated two years prior.

I let out an empty chuckle, devoid of all humor, “I don’t know why that’s still there. Here,” I reached out to take the photo, “I’ll throw it away-”

“Don’t.” His response was immediate, taking me by surprise. He shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat, “I’d like to keep it.”

My heart felt like it stopped for a moment, hoping he missed us as much as I did.

“Why?” I asked.

Mingi smiled, still looking at the frozen image of the two of us. “Do you remember this day?”

“Of course I do.” My eyes began to water without me realizing, “That day was the first time you told me you loved me.”

His eyes found mine, sadness within them, “Yeah. Yeah it was.” His voice became horse as if he was fighting back tears.

“I didn’t want to let you go.”

“Then why did you?”

His eyes drifted down. “I was traveling halfway across the world for a year. I guess part of me thought you would meet someone else. I wanted to save myself the heartbreak in case you did.”

“I would’ve gladly stayed with you if you had asked. I have no desire to meet anyone else. Ever. You are the only one for me.” I froze, the realization of my words hitting me.

Mingi looked at me, “When I was abroad, I missed you every second of every day and I have missed you every second of every day since.” His hands cupped my face as if I was made of glass and a single tear fell down his cheek, causing my own tears to spill.

I was no longer able to speak, and so I did the only thing I could think of: I kissed him.

I kissed him with all the hurt that I felt after he left me. I kissed him with the deep love that I still felt for him. I kissed him with the fear that I’d lose him once again.

Our kisses soon grew heated, the photo album quickly forgotten, and I found my arms wrapped around his neck, hands running through his soft hair while his found their way to the bottom of my sweater, toying with it.

“Do you want this?” He growled, voice much deeper and raspier than before.

“Yes.”

With that, he pulled my sweater over my head, eyes scanning the red, lacy bra I was wearing.

His favorite.

Mingi chuckled, “This is still my favorite bra of yours.”

“I don’t know, I’ve got some new ones that are pretty hot.”

He let out a groan and began to leave kisses down my neck, setting my skin on fire.

I stopped him, needed to know one thing before we continued, “Did you...have you...since we last...?”

He smiled, “How could I? I’ve only ever been yours. Have you?”

I gave a slight smile, “No. No, I haven’t.”

I kissed him again and lifted his sweater, tossing it across the room. He had slightly defined abs when I was with him before, but they were far more prominent now. His arms were much more defined and it took all of my concentration to keep from drooling.

“Like what you see, doll?”

My voice was a borderline squeak, “Yes.”

“You still into praise, sweetheart?

I nodded, pulling on his jeans. Only slightly embarrassed with how eager I was.

“Not yet, baby.” Mingi easily lifted me to the couch and helped me remove my jeans. He grabbed my hips and placed me on his thigh, tightening his muscles as he dragged my clothed core across his own jeans. In mere seconds I became a quivering mess. I realized how truly long it had been since I’d been with anyone like this, and I had to admit I was needy.

“What a good girl you’re being for me. Aren’t you? You’re doing wonderfully, my love.”

I whimpered and pulled myself closer to him.

“Are you close, baby?”

I nodded, maybe too quickly, and felt my orgasm wash over me. I panted, already out of breath.

“Good girl.”

Bringing my lips to his I reached for his pants again and this time he helped me remove them. As I grinded down against him, he let out a deep growl.

“Let’s rid you of these, hmm?”

He eagerly removed my panties and bra and stared at me for a minute.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

I blushed fiercely. “You’re so incredibly handsome. Somehow even more so than when I saw you last.”

Mingi looked at me with a shy smile then resumed his actions. He removed his underwear and ran his length across my slit, teasing me slightly.

“Mingi, I need you.” I begged.

His eyes darkened and he entered me without hesitation. My back arched as he reached a steady pace and littered my neck with kisses, most likely leaving hickies, marking me as his.

I pulled his hair, bringing him closer to me. Mingi was always fairly vocal, but he could never get enough of me pulling his hair, always moaning in response.

He reached down and toyed with my clit, causing sparks to fly through me.

“Fuck—babe don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t—shit—planning on it, doll.”

Both of us quickly reached our high, cumming at the same time. I pressed a hand against his chest as I caught my breath.

“You’re still really, really good at that.”

Mingi laughed, “You are too, sweetheart. Oh wait-”

He got up and returned with a warm towel, cleaning me up and looking at me fondly.

“You’re cute.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingi smiled, placing the towel aside,“Now, how about we get under some blankets? We’ll feel cold soon enough.”

I nodded and began to put my undergarments on, reaching for my sweater.

“I think not.” He said, now with his pants on, handing me his own sweater which I gladly took.

“You look hella good in my clothes, miss.”

I giggled at his choice of words, feeling happiness bubble in my chest for the first time in a long time.

“You look hella good without a shirt, mister.”

Mingi raised a brow and ticked my sides, making me squeal.

“I’ll fight you!” I yelled.

He stopped and rubbed his nose against mine, “Sorry I can’t help it. Your laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world.”

“Shut up.” I laughed, feeling shy.

He placed arm around me, nuzzling my neck.

I turned to him, worry in my eyes, “I’m really sorry for lashing out at you earlier. That’s not like me.”

He smiled, “I know it’s not. But don’t worry about it, I understand. It’s a defense mechanism I guess.”

I cuddled up to him then realized I needed to use the restroom. I tried to get up when he pulled me closer to him.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Silly, I just have to use the restroom. I don’t want a UTI.”

He laughed aloud, “Fine but you better come right back.”

“I will,” I told him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before I walked away.

I soon looked in the mirror of the bathroom, observing my flushed cheeks and the wide smile I couldn’t seem to wipe off my face.

This girl looks happy. I think I can get used to seeing her in the mirror.

I returned and was instantly pulled back into his arms.

“I love you.”

I felt a tear run down my face, feeling beyond happy, “I love you, too. So much.”

I wasn’t sure when, but I felt my eyes began to droop, slowly falling asleep in the arms of the man I loved.

The day following, Mingi’s phone recieved signal and I was able to call Wooyoung. Apparently the power lines had fallen, everyone in the immediate area losing power. The nearest roads had been somehow cleared overnight and he’d be able to come pick me up.

“Wooyoung’s on his way over, apparently everyone lost power.”

“Hmm. well I, for one, am glad we did,” Mingi pulled me into a tight hug.

“Yeah, me too.”

A silence fell between us, but it was comfortable this time.

Mingi spoke up, his voice becoming playful, “I’m taking you on a date soon. There’s nothing you can do about, I’m afraid you cannot refuse.”

“As if I would refuse.”

“Mmm.” I didn’t think he could, but he pulled me even closer to him.

“Mingi you’re literally gonna break my bones.”

He let go of me, eyes wide, “Did I hurt you? Gosh I’m so sorry I can—”

“You didn’t hurt me you goof.”

“Oh good. You scared me.”

The honk of a car horn scared me and I jumped, Mingi hiding a smile.

“Call me if you need anything, okay? You’ve got my number.”

“Of course.” Giving him one last kiss before I bid him goodbye and left the cabin, hopping in Wooyoung’s car.

“Holy shit are you okay? Was anyone even home? My god I feel so bad—”

“Mingi was there.”

Wooyoung’s face froze, quickly turning into a scowl, “I swear if he did anything to you—”

“No, don’t worry about it. We’ve made up,” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.

He didn’t say anything, he only stared at me before he spoke again, “You two totally fucked, didn’t you?”

“Wooyoung!” I slapped his arm in shock.

“You didn’t deny it!”

“Oh shut up. Just take me home.”

He playfully rolled his eyes and put the car in drive.

“Just so you know, I’m happy for you. I get why he did it but I am still a little pissed. I swear to fucking god if he breaks your heart again I will actually break his knee caps.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it. I wouldn’t worry to much about it, though.”

“If you insist, okay.”

“I do.”

December twenty third. The day that I had been dreading once, now one that I had been very much looking forward to. I checked my makeup and outfit once more before texting Mingi.

Me: I’m ready whenever you are!

Mingi Mango: I’m outside :)

Me: Shit, already?

Mingi Mango: Language

I scoffed, grabbing my purse and running outside to meet him.

“Babyyyyyy!” Mingi yelled as he saw me.

“Mangoooo!” I yelled back, jumping into his arms.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Mingi it’s been two days.”

“But it feels like forever! You look absolutely stunning, by the way.”

“You cheese. You look really good yourself.”

“You know it,” Mingi winked and opened his passenger car door for me, “My lady.”

I was unable to keep from smiling, giving him a little kiss on the cheek and climbing into the car. The entire car ride was filled with lighthearted conversation, not a single silent moment between us.

“We’re here, doll.”

“Yes I see the cabin in front of us.” I teased him.

“Well just in case you didn’t I thought I’d let you know.” He laughed, eyes disappearing into crescents, and I felt my heart swell.

We held hands as we walked into the cabin, finding several pairs of eyes turning to us, then to our intertwined hands. I was pleased to find smiles on my friend’s faces, feeling happy that they were happy for us. Arin came running towards me at a seemingly inhuman speed and wrapped her arms around me.

“Ahhh how are you, girly? I’ve missed you so much! And you look gorgeous! I love that sweater on you! And your makeup! Wow! How’d you do that? Have you been eating well?”

“One question at a time, Arin.” I smiled.

“Sorry! I’m just so happy!”

"Me too!” I looked around, “Do you know where Wooyoung is?”

“Oh he’s out back with San. They’re having a competition to see who can build the better snowman.”

I shook my head with a smile.

At that moment she took a step back, looking at our hands. I had told her about Mingi and I dating again over the phone and she seemed happy for me, but I had to admit I was nervous to see her reaction in person.

“You,” She pointed a finger at Mingi, “If you hurt even a hair on her head I will actually fight you.”

Mingi’s eyed widened, assuring her that he would never hurt me.

She clapped her hands, “Well, good. Now that that’s over, do you all want a drink?” Arin cocked her head, the change in mannerisms throwing me a little.

“Yeah that’s fine.”

“Okay! I’ll be right back! Catch up with everyone you two!”

As if he was a ghost, Yunho appeared next to Mingi, scaring us both.

“Christ, Yunho. Give a man a warning first.”

“Sorry,” He chucked, “How are you both?”

“We’re doing well, thanks.”

“We’re happy.” Mingi turned to me and looked at me with heart eyes, butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

“You all are cute. Speaking of, you haven’t met Mia, have you?”

Mingi and I exchanged confused looks.

“No, I don’t believe so. Who’s that?”

“She’s my new girlfriend. We’ve been dating for a little over a month but if I’m being honest, I’m already head over heels for this girl.” Yunho turned, calling out to a girl surrounded by people, “Mia, can you come here?”

The short brunette walked over, a smile plastered on her face as she made eye contact with Yunho.

“I’d like you to meet my friends from high school.” He introduced us and she nodded, fully invested in the conversation.

“I’ve heard a lot about you both! I’m so excited to get to know you all better!”

I smiled at her enthusiasm, “Aww you, too!”

Arin walked over and handed Mingi and I our drinks, skipping off to meet another friend.

Yunho and Mia wondered off soon after, greeting more people coming in.

“Hey I’ve got something I wanna show you.” Mingi whispered in my ear.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Come with me.”

Before I knew it, Mingi was pulling me into a bathroom and locking the door.

“I know what you’re doing, Mango.”

“And what’s that?” He asked as he leaned down to reach my neck, kissing me gently, arms resting on my hips.

“We’re at a party.” I said, whining at him but doing nothing to stop him.

“I saw that couch when we walked in, you know? I’m never going to be able to look at it the same.”

“Me either.”

My head eventually won the fight I was having with myself, and I promised that if he could wait till he dropped me off I’d be all his. It seemed to appease him as he gave me one last kiss and led us out of the bathroom. Somehow, no one noticed and I was grateful, sure that my flustered expression would certainly give us away.

“Hey, look at this.”

My eyes moved in the direction Mingi was pointing, seeing a mistletoe directly above us.

“Oh you definitely planned that.”

“And if I did?”

“I’d kiss you all the same.”

Mingi bent down to kiss me, a hand on my face, another around my waist. As I wrapped my own hands around his neck, deepening the kiss, I couldn’t help but think that this was what true happiness felt like.

Thank you, Mingi. Thank you for giving me the greatest gift of your love. Merry Christmas, my love.

#atzinc #mingi #ateez #ateez smut #ateezau #college au #atiny #song mingi

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Long Night in the Valley chapter 9

“But what if it’s the hospital?” Inko asked, still staring at the phone, cheek cupped in one hand. “What if it’s an emergency with one of your patients? It could be important.”

It wasn’t. Mostly because nothing could possibly be as important as dealing with Midoriya Inko.

Without a doubt, the woman was the most difficult to deal with person in the entire world. It was no reflection on her personality, of course, but rather on her unique position.

Garaki could cope with rabid villains. He had handled heroes cursing him. He could even converse normally with All for One.

But then, compared to this woman, All for One was easy. As long as she wasn’t part of the picture, all Garaki had to do was follow orders. When she did, every interaction became a balancing act between All for Ones previous orders and not upsetting her.

Garaki was too valuable to All for One for the man to kill him, which only meant that Garaki had been on the receiving end of some truly creative punishments in the past.

Also, Midoriya Inko once threatened to pull his pancreas out of his nose if he ever spoke ‘like that’ to her son again. Truly, she was a match for All for One, who had threatened much the same thing only hours later, despite the fact the results presented had been ordered by him.

This was truly a terrifying situation, and he had to face it without even little Johnny at his side. How pitiful…

“Really,” said Inko, “I think you should answer it. Maybe it’ll give you some idea about how we can help Izuku.”

That seemed unlikely at best. Even so, it would be unwise to go against the wishes of All for One’s chosen queen.

He smiled tightly. “I’ll have to step out,” he said.

“Of course,” said Inko, nodding.

He stepped out if the dining room and checked the phone. It was Shigaraki Tomura. Because of course it was. Normally, he would have scrambled to answer, but… He looked over his shoulder, to make sure Midoriya Inko hadn’t spontaneously appeared there.

One way or another, he feared, he was going to die today.

No, he told himself, focus on the positives.

For example, Midoriya Inko seemed to have taken quite well to the longevity quirk All for One had slipped her while they were dating. Very well indeed. He’d already known that, of course, but it was good to see it in person. All for One’s youngest son was now in conflict with the heroes, even if he was still clinging to All Might’s emaciated skeleton. The call from Shigaraki Tomura meant that Gigantomachia hadn’t killed him while Garaki was distracted.

Overall, this day was going wonderfully.

He answered his phone.

“You f—”

Ah, so it was Shigaraki Tomura.

“How did you and Sensei manage to lose an entire-a—” And there he went again. “—ing feral child?”

Wait. Garaki knew about Midoriya Izuku. How did Shigaraki Tomura? “Er, what feral child?”

“The green brat! Except he’s not green anymore. He died his stupid puffball hair white—”

“—honestly, I always thought it was more broccoli—HA! He’s a cauliflower now-!”

“Shut up, Twice! He was wearing a suit, using Eraserhead’s quirk. Did you guys think I was stupid or something?”

“What?”

“Do you not have the news in your crappy lab?”

“Erm.”

“What are you even doing, that it took so long for you to pick up your phone?”

“Well…”

“Never mind. We need a fast travel out of here. This place is crawling with heroes, and the giant boss is going to wake up soon—”

“I can’t,” said Garaki. “I’m not in my lab.”

It wasn’t quite silent on the other side of the line.

“What do you mean, you aren’t in your lab?” A pause. “What are you doing, old man? Where are you?”

“I have to go, now,” said Garaki, feeling oddly detached. The phone beeped as he hung up on Shigaraki Tomura. He opened his news app.

Masterfully, he avoided crying as he read through the top local stories. The real shock was that All for One hadn’t broken out of prison yet.

Oh, and Eraserhead’s quirk, because he absolutely shouldn’t have been able to do that. The quirks of the past users, yes, fine, that made sense. The mechanism between All for One and One for All was presumably sufficiently similar. But Eraserhead’s, that was a different story.

Unless… The remnants…

Garaki found that he was very afraid.

He replayed the video of the incident. Mentally calculated the trajectory of All Might and the younger Midoriya. Perhaps… perhaps rather than taking a phone call, he should be making one.

“’S like Ragdoll,” explained Izuku, as the pair of One for All members limped through the forest. “Shiretoko-san, I mean.”

“Mhm,” said Toshinori, lifting Izuku over a spot that would give his sprained and swollen ankle some difficulty.

“Even though she can’t use Search anymore, there’s still remnants. She can- She can keep track of a lot more objects at once. Her organizational skills, visual acuity… Some things have actually improved, now that she’s not using that part of her head. The point is, not all of the support structures disappear when the quirk does. And I think- I think not all of the quirk itself goes away, either.”

“I’m not sure I follow you on that part.”

“It’s—It’s a, um. All for One, I think, physically, obviously, there has to be psionic component as well, the way it works is by destructively copying the quirk and the quirk factor of the target individual. It’s like—Like if there was a copier in a shredder? I guess? Can’t copy without destroying the original. But, yeah. There has to be a mental component. So, my—So, what, I mean, I mean what I—Hmmnnng.”

“My boy?”

“My head hurts.” He swiped ineffectively at his sluggishly bleeding nose.

Toshinori pressed his lips together, concerned. Izuku rarely admitted to feeling pain, no matter how beaten up he was. This must be serious.

“We have some painkillers,” said Toshinori.

“No,” said Izuku. “I’m okay. What was I-? I was saying… Quirks. My quirk when he—There’s still remnants, and the emergent behavior—” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “The bits left behind when he took my quirk, with One for All—assuming that’s what happened, and they’re not wrong—they let me access the past users’ quirks, and also since Saito-san’s quirk seems to interact with quirk ghosts, at least partially, it can use that to pick up Aizawa-sensei’s quirk. Probably could get the others’ as well, although I’m less confident about mutant quirks like Iida’s.”

For a moment, they let the conversation lapse.

“I think we’re handling these revelations very well,” opined Toshinori.

“I know, right?” Izuku giggled like someone at the edge of a very tall cliff. “Anyway, One for All uses more of a passive copying mechanism, but I’d guess there’s something wrong with its writing mechanism, unless the stockpile quirk just takes up all its time, or something, or there was a problem with interpretation? Or, or! The others are wrong about me ever having a quirk, and it’s really just One for All finally processing and writing in the other quirks. Maybe because I’m genetically closer to One than any of the others?” Izuku’s breath caught.

“Izuku?”

“Toshinori,” he whined, “it hurts…”

“What does?”

“Everything,” said Izuku. “My head. My eyes.” He’d mostly relied on Toshinori’s vision while navigating through the forest. Since using Aizawa-sensei’s quirk, he’d barely opened his eyes.

“We’ve made some distance since we landed,” said Toshinori. “Why don’t we rest for a little while?”

“We can’t,” protested Izuku. “We’re still too close.”

“Izuku, you’re suffering from quirk exhaustion.”

“Oh,” said Izuku. “Oh. I guess I never felt—Never felt it before? Because I’d just break my bones first.”

Toshinori visibly cringed. “If I understand what you just said correctly,” he said, taking Izuku by the shoulders and guiding him gently towards a fallen tree, “what you did back there with young Aizawa’s quirk was akin to running a race with a broken leg.”

“W-well, I mean, only if—only if—they’re right about it being my quirk. And n-not just something One for All can do.”

“Mm,” said Toshinori, dubiously. “Even then, it isn’t something quite natural for you, is it? And this right after receiving Float.”

“It,” said Izuku, frowning, and letting himself be directed. “Actually, it felt… Good? Right before it started hurting. Like… satisfying, almost? Like when I used One for All for the first time… Well, before I realized all my bones were broken.”

“It wasn’t quite all of them, was it?”

Izuku shrugged. He blinked slowly as he sat down on the log. “It’s cold.”

“It is December,” said Toshinori, unzipping his coat. “Let me see here, I had some winter clothing for you in here somewhere… and we should take a better look at your ankle.” He sat down next to Izuku, who immediately leaned towards him, not quite touching.

On impulse, Toshinori wrapped the open edge of the coat around Izuku, pulling him close.

Izuku rested his head against Toshinori’s chest and brought up his knees to hug them. “This’s warm,” he mumbled.

“How about,” said Toshinori, “you just rest for a few minutes. Then we can sort everything else out.”

“Okay…”

“Well,” said Recovery Girl, entering the conference room the hospital had lent them, “no one is in any danger of dying.”

“But?” said Hitoshi, bracing himself for bad news.

“No but. They’re all fine, beyond not waking up, but you all already knew that. So.” She hopped into a seat at the table they’d all squeezed around. “What have you found out?”

She directed the question to Hizashi, who had his head in his hands, his elaborately styled hair almost hitting Jirou and Kaminari, who were seated across from him.

“Midoriya has a sentient quirk and no one bothered to mention it.”

“I’m not sure Midori knew,” said Tsuyu. “It does seem like something he’d mention.”

“I don’t know,” said Kaminari. “He’s, like, weirdly cagey about his quirk.”

Tokoyami crossed his arms. “Hm. He may have been hiding it. Possession of a sentient quirk casts one into the shadow of the commission’s regard.”

“Huh?”

“People with sentient quirks are monitored by the Hero Commission,” said Hitoshi. “Just like people with ‘villainous’ quirks.

“He was not hiding, mes amis,” said Aoyama. “That’s absurd! He was simply a late bloomer, like myself.”

“Does it really matter if he knew or not?” asked Jirou. “Everyone has stuff they’d rather not tell other people.”

“She’s right,” said Kayama-sensei.

“Well,” said Yaoyorzu, “we’re going to try to help him, aren’t we?”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“But how?”

“Overthrow the government?” suggested Jirou.

“Start a social media campaign?” said Kaminari, at the same time.

They looked at each other.

“And you call yourself an anarchist,” scoffed Jirou.

“In my defense, I have never once called myself an anarchist.”

“As much as I like the idea of overthrowing the government, the social media idea is probably more doable,” said Hitoshi. “I mean, there’s only fourteen of us here. What are we going to do against the government?”

“As much as I hate to say it,” said Kayama-sensei, “we do have more resources than just the people in this room. Like the person who sent us to extract you in the first place.”

“You mean,” said Shouji, voice hushed, “the rat god?”

Kayama-sensei blanched. “Where did you hear that?”

All the students, including Hitoshi, pointed at Hizashi, because, really, she should have known that. Actually, wait, one of them hadn’t and had instead buried his face in his hands. That was… Kouda. Yeah. Kouda.

“What’s up with him?” asked Hitoshi.

Mineta snickered. A baleful collective glare was turned on him.

“What?” he whined.

Aoyama sighed. “Midoriya once asked him if he could control our fantabulous Principal Nezu, since Principal Nezu is technically an animal.”

“Ever since then,” continued Yaoyorozu, “he has a crisis whenever the principal is brought up.”

“Man,” said Kaminari, nodding in Hitoshi’s direction, “I bet that if Midoriya was here, he’d be asking you if you could control Principal Nezu, since he’s not human.”

… That was a good question.

“Speaking of Midoriya,” said Satou, as if they hadn’t been doing exactly that all along, “I don’t think we can overthrow the government without him. He’s our plan guy, usually.”

“Even with Nezu?” asked Hizashi.

The members of class 1-A seemed thoughtful.

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Mineta, “we’re serious about that? I thought it was a joke.”

“Okay,” said Yaoyorozu, “perhaps we should discuss our other options first.”

“Oh!” said Aoyama. “We could become vigilantes!”

“What… What would be the point of that?” asked Hitoshi.

Aoyama did not have an answer.

Hizashi’s phone started ringing. “Oh, no,” he said, “it’s him. Does he know I’ve been calling him the rat god behind his back?”

“Probably,” said Kayama-sensei, “but I don’t think that’s what this is about.”

Hizashi answered his phone. “Heeeeeyyyyyy, Principal Nezu, what-? Oh! Oh, yeah, yeah, we were planning on that, but we weren’t sure—yeah, yeah, I’ll tell them, and –” He went pale. “You already knew about that, huh? Haha, yeah, yep, okay, okay. See you soon?” He cringed as he hung up. “He wants us all back at school before the commission decides to interrogate us. Also, he said to check the news.”

“It’s just going to be more slander of Midoriya,” said Jirou, looking at her own phone, “why both—Oh.”

“Still can’t believe they think Midoriya kidnapped All Might,” mumbled one of Shouji’s free mouth hands as Hitoshi unlocked his own phone.

“I know. Do you remember when he came into the cafeteria to ask Midoriya to eat lunch with him?” asked Kaminari.

“Which time?” asked Dark Shadow, cackling.

“It was cute, kero,” said Asui. “I have pictures.”

“We can use those for the social media campaign!”

Hitoshi’s news app loaded. He looked up and met Jirou’s eyes. Judging by her pale face, what he’d seen wasn’t a hallucination.

“Am I a dog, a mouse, or a bear?” chirped Nezu as he answered his phone. “One thing’s for sure, I’m Principal Nezu? How can I help you, Mr. Hero Commission President?”

“I’m sure you’re following the news,” said the president.

“Of course,” said Nezu, patting Eri’s head. She’d been staring at his phone like a predator faced with prey since he answered. They had, indeed, been watching the news.

“We need Midoriya Izuku’s medical records and the blood sample you have from him. You should have it ready by the time our investigators arrive.”

“Oh? Investigators?”

“To search Midoriya Izuku’s personal effects for clues. You should also prepare Chisaki Eri, Togata Mirio, and the teachers involved in Midoriya Izuku’s education for questioning.”

“Thank you for giving me a heads up, Mr. President.”

There was a suspicious silence on the other end of the line. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing at all!”

“You aren’t going to win this fight.”

“What fight, Mr. President? Aren’t we both on the side of heroes?”

“If you get in our way, I will make sure your precious school goes down with Midoriya.”

“Oh-ho! Is that a threat, Mr. President?”

“A promise. Public opinion isn’t something you can think your way out of, and UA has been on thin ice since the attack on the USJ.”

“I see,” said Nezu, fighting against the urge to bare his teeth and snarl. “In any case, I will not stand in the way of the law.”

“Good.”

The line went dead. “Oh, dear,” said Nezu. “He really doesn’t understand me at all.”

“What areya going to do?” asked Eri.

“Follow the law,” said Nezu.

Eri scowled.

“Bothering by the book, sir?” asked Togata, who had been hiding in Aizawa’s kitchen, baking.

“Oh, yes. The good heroes who were here earlier had the authority to request a piece of Midoriya-kun’s clothing, but what Mr. Hero Commission President is asking for is quite different.”

“How?” asked Eri.

“They need certain forms and paperwork in order to force me to do so much as let them in the front gate. Which cannot, of course, be opened to outsiders by teachers without my express permission. And if I am involved in an emergency involving one of my wards at the time…”

“That’s me!” said Eri, bouncing on the couch.

“Indeed, it is.”

“So,” she said, “I’ve got to be an em-er-gen-cy?” she asked, carefully sounding out the word.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” said Nezu, “except say that I was occupied with you when the commission representatives arrived.”

Eri nodded very seriously. “Can we watch Deku kick the bad guy again?”

Nezu chortled.

“Did I say something funny?” asked Eri, her face pinching again.

“Not at all, not at all. I’m just imagining how others might react to you calling Hawks a bad guy.”

“He’s fighting Deku, so he’s a bad guy.”

“Immaculate logic, young lady,” said Nezu, patting Eri on the head.

Izuku walked through Nana’s misty memories, searching for her and Suzuki.

Hopefully, Nana hadn’t reached through the dream to kill the guy in real life. He didn’t like Suzuki. In fact, he pretty much hated him. But murder was still, well, murder.

He had some things to talk to Nana about.

The far more comprehensive connection he currently had to One for All, thanks to Saito-san’s quirk, meant that he knew far more than he usually did, about One for All, the others, All for One, and even himself. Enough that he was twitching for his notebook and pencil, because he was afraid he would forget once the quirk wore off.

One of the things he knew now was that One for All had usability adaptations. Little things that tweaked the user’s body and subconscious in such a way that made the quirk actually viable. Required secondary powers, to use an older term.

A common one was the heat and burn resistance most fire users had. Bakugou had lighters in his palms to set his sweat off. Tokoyami had amazing night vision. Hagakure was resistant to cancer.

One for All read the DNA of potential recipients, to see if they could handle the quirk. One couldn’t go shoving quirks into random people all willy-nilly, even if the quirk in question was One for All. That’s why the noumu were so messed up. All for One didn’t have that compatibility-checking adaptation.

But since compatibility here was a function of both mentality and DNA… that meant…

“Were you ever going to tell me that we’re all related?” he asked Nana. “Speaking of which.” He pointed at the memory-shade of a young Gran Torino. “How is it that everyone I’m related to is so tall? Why are Mom and I midgets? And where did the green hair come from? I’m having a crisis.”

Nana chuckled, but it was a sad sound. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up, kiddo.”

(The effect would have been better if her boots weren’t stained with blood.)

“Okay, but seriously,” said Izuku, sitting on the railing next to Nana. They watched the memory play out. “You guys all knew. Why didn’t you say anything? I think Toshinori’d be happy to be related to you, even if it’s only tangentially.”

“But would he be happy with the other part?”

“Huh?”

“Being related to him.”

“I think he’d overlook that. I mean, One was related to him, too. So it doesn’t really matter. And I’m…” He faltered. They had yet to confront this particular thing.

“You should talk to One and Four,” suggested Nana, gently. “Their perspective is probably closest to yours.”

“Will I have time?”

“As long as we’re with you, eventually,” said Nana. “This,” she gestured at the dreamscape, “changes things. You know this feeling, now. You won’t forget.”

Izuku nodded. “Should I call you grandma, now?”

“That makes me feel old.”

“You are old.”

“Ouch, kid. But sure.”

“That aside, I do want to know where the green hair comes from.”

Nana sighed. “It’s from me. I used to dye my hair. Then I got a stylist to permanently change it with a quirk.”

“But… why?”

Nana slumped sideways. “The kids at my school… They were always saying, ‘Oh, Nana, you’re so green. Just like your name. Green Vegetable Nana.”

“Name related trauma is something we have in common.”

“Unfortunately.”

“So. Suzuki.”

“Under that rock.” She pointed to a massive boulder.

Izuku sighed. “What are we going to do with him?”

“Your call,” said Nana.

“Does it have to be?”

Gigantomachia shrugged dirt and trees from his shoulders and sniffed the air. The radio around his neck crackled as the doctor stopped transmitting. This, he decided, catching the scent of the Little Lord, was a joyful day.

Only once before had he received the privilege of smelling this scent. That day was eternally carved into his memory. The Little Lord had been so small, but so smart! So cunning! So much better than Shigaraki Tomura!

Machia wondered if he would still be small, or if he had grown up to be as big as Lord! Or even Machia!

Probably, he would not be as big as Machia. Still!

How wonderful!

Machia wondered if the Little Lord would smile at him again. That had been nice.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #my fic #fanfic #long night in the valley

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

Yule Log

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: With Christmas quickly approaching, Loki finds himself missing his favorite time on Asgard. If he can’t go back home to celebrate, you’re determined to bring the party to him. Warnings: just the tiniest bit angsty, but mainly just fluff. And a lot of kissing A/N: We’re already halfway through December, can you believe it? To continue the spread of holiday cheer, please enjoy my latest fic! Happy reading :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs @gaitwae

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“Thank you for coming,” you said to some of the last guests as they made their way out into the chilly night air.

Being Tony’s personal assistant was no easy feat, and sometimes it meant you had to be in full work mode at parties rather than being able to let loose. So many times your boyfriend tried to pull you away from all the seriousness, but you would only be able to enjoy a dance or two before having to do something else. It was yet another reason why Loki was not a fan of Stark’s shindigs.

“Darling,” he called as you made your way back into the room. “Come sit with me now?”

“I can’t. There’s still people here.”

“And they are occupied talking to Stark and Captain Rogers,” he pouted. “Certainly you can rest for a minute. You deserve it, after all.”

“Ok, I guess,” you replied, walking over. He pulled you down onto his lap before you could change your mind, kissing you quickly but passionately. “Well if that’s what you mean by rest, I would have stopped working hours ago.”

“Duly noted,” he said, nuzzling into your neck, enjoying your scent. “I will be sure to be more specific next time.”

You giggled against his lips as he kissed you again. The whole scene was picturesque, really. Sitting with your boyfriend on the couch, a tree in the background, snow falling outside, and a fire crackling nearby; it was like something right out of a painting. Or maybe a dream. Then again, that’s how you felt about every second you spent with Loki.

Just when you were getting settled against him, your boss called your name, and waved you over with a smile. He probably needed you for another scheduling problem. At least you would be getting a break for Christmas soon. You sighed and pecked Loki on the cheek, wiggling out of his grip, much to his protest. With a promise to meet him in your shared room as soon as you finished up with the last few guests, he let you go.

Roughly half an hour later, you were stumbling into your quarters, feet sore and eyes tired. Walking into your bedroom to change, you saw Loki standing by the window, his shirt in his hands as if he just forgot what he was doing halfway through changing. You hugged him from behind, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades. His hand immediately alighted on your arm and began rubbing slow circles on your skin. You’d noticed he did that anytime he was pensive or working through a lot of emotions.

“Hey, are you ok? Do you need to talk?” you asked.

“I am alright, my angel. You need not worry,” he told you, turning around to hug you and kissing your forehead gently. “Now, I believe we were going to watch a movie.”

You frowned at the way he changed the topic, but decided not to push the subject. You could always try again in the morning, but you didn’t want to make him talk if he didn’t feel like it. You got changed while Loki set up the film, something he was still very proud that he’d learned how to do. Settling on the couch, Loki rested his head on your lap, and you played with his hair as Rudolph began to play on the TV.

You looked down at the beautiful god, wondering what was going through that beautiful mind of his. There was no doubt in your mind; you loved Loki. The thing was that he could be so guarded sometimes that you felt left out. Like he was keeping things from you. It was more out of concern for him that it made you worry, not because you didn’t trust him. In fact, you trusted him with your life. You only wished that he would do the same with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, you woke up in the bed, wrapped in Loki’s arms. You didn’t quite remember getting off of the couch last night, and you knew Loki must have carried you after you fell asleep. His eyes were on you, as you laid there. You could feel his loving gaze even before opening your eyes. You liked to do that sometimes, pretend like you were still asleep and bask in the joy of Loki admiring you. Whether or not he told you everything, he obviously adored you, and this was a nice reminder of that. Though, now that you thought about the issue of communication, you cracked open your eyes, determined to get him to tell you what is wrong.

“Good morning, darling,” he said, smiling warmly at you. “I love you.”

It always made you flustered when Loki told you that so soon after waking, like it was the most important thing. Like he had to make sure you knew before anything else happened. Before you could even get up most days, he was saying those words. They always made you snuggle further into your chest, resolving to stay in bed a bit longer, rather than getting up and starting your duties for that day.

“Morning, Loki. I love you too.”

Still laying together in a tangle of limbs, the two of you chatted for a bit longer, and you were carefully working your way up to the question you wanted to ask. It was a delicate topic, for sure, but maybe he’d be soft enough after all the pillow talk to share.

“Loki, can I ask you a question? And can you answer me honestly?” you asked.

“Of course. I will do my best, my angel.”

You frowned a little at the response, but plowed on anyway. “Last night you were upset about something. What was it? You know I worry about you. It’s ok, you can tell me.”

“Well,” he sighed. “It is nothing much, really. It is just with all these Christmas festivities, I am reminded of my mother’s favorite celebration. The winter solstice ball was always around this time. She loved planning the Yule celebrations. It was why she put up with the planning of every other ball, just so she could do this one. It was always the most fun, for her love of the holiday shone through every minute detail of the day.”

You looked at features, peaceful and happy, a small smile tugging at his lips. You wanted to be happy for him, too, but it made your heart break as you read deeper into what he was saying. It wasn’t just the holiday he was upset over.

“Oh, Loki. You miss your mother,” you cooed as he sadly nodded.

“It is nothing you need worry yourself over, really.”

“Yes, Loki, I do. Because I love you. If you’re allowed to worry over me, I can over you, too.”

“That is... fair,” he conceded, though he was frowning a little. “So what are you going to do? Nothing too over the top, I hope.”

“I’m not exactly sure yet, but I’ll start with this,” you admitted, cupping his cheek and kissing him. You started on his lips, but then moved to placing little pecks all over his face. His smile had returned by the time you finished. “Better?”

“Much,” he confessed as he pulled you closer, earning a giggle. “But you are not done trying to fix this, are you?”

“Not even close.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later you were setting up the common room for a solstice party, much like the Asgardian ballroom would be looking soon. You’d asked Thor more about how the holiday was celebrated on his home planet and, together with the rest of the Avengers, you were getting ready to surprise Loki. Though you had Bucky and Peter keeping him busy and out of the way right now, you were sure that Loki suspected something was up.

“Are you sure this is everything Thor?” you nervously questioned, giving the room a once-over. “Everything has to be perfect.”

“Do not worry, my friend. You were very thorough.”

After combing through your notes one last time, just to make sure there wasn’t anything you were missing, you called Peter and Bucky to bring Loki back. In true surprise party fashion, you turned the lights off and got into hiding places. When he walked in, you all jumped up and screamed “Happy Yule.” For a second he didn’t move, and the silence was kind of awkward as he stood there with a sort of stunned but otherwise unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he gently said your name.

“You don’t like it, do you?” you said, feeling like you might cry.

“Like it? No, no, I do not. Darling,” he said, shaking his head before breaking out into a huge grin and crushing you in a hug, using his godly strength to pick you up and spin you around. “I love it! I was certain you had some trick up your sleeve, but this? This is beyond my wildest imagination. It is perfect! Thank you, love.”

“Really?” you squealed in excitement. “Loki, that means so much to me.”

“And the fact that you went through all this trouble means so much to me.”

He kissed you then, not caring about the reaction from the rest of the Avengers, which was a mix of whoops and groans. Even when you broke away from each other, you still stood there for a minute, just gazing at each other. The look in your eyes said everything that words couldn’t.

“Well then, what are we waiting for? Let us party,” Loki announced.

He swept you onto the dance floor as the music began to play, enjoying waltzing amongst your friends. After a few songs, you led him over to the thrones at the front of the room. He nearly cried tears of joy when you said it was for him. Long ago, he’d given up on the notion that he’d rule, let go of the desire to do so. He did not need it if he was king of your heart. But to be offered one, even just for the night, it meant more to him than he knew how to express.

It was late into the night after a number of Avengers had moved past tipsy and into drunk, when Loki asked you take a walk with him. You bundled up before stepping into the cold night air, but afraid of his little mortal catching a cold, Loki draped an extra cloak on your shoulders. It was so soft you wondered if he’d cast some kind of spell on it. He took your hand and led you away from the Tower and into the city, lit up even more than normal by all the Christmas decorations. Eventually, you reached Central Park, and Loki slowed to a stop so he could cup your cheeks and kiss you yet again that night. You lost yourself in him, losing track of time as you stood there, lips locked together. When you finally separated, he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“My sweetest angel, thank you so much for cheering me up,” he said.

“It was no problem. It was totally worth it to see you so happy. Did I miss anything that you were looking forward to?”

“Darling, you simply must stop worrying yourself. The party was amazing.”

“But?”

“Did it sound like there was a 'but' coming? I assure you, you have done everything perfectly.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I just feel in my gut that there’s something missing, and I know you won’t tell me of your own accord. Please, Loki, if there’s something else, let me know.”

“Admittedly, there is one other thing I miss. But you have done more than enough already.”

“Will you please stop that?” you snapped a little, surprising the god. “Stop pushing your feelings aside, especially with me. I care about you, ok? I want to trouble myself with what’s bothering you. Because if we deal with it together, it’s not so hard for either of us. We love each other, Loki, I know that. So just open up. Tell me.”

“Are you done?” he inquired with an impressed and amused smirk as you nodded, a little flustered and embarrassed after your outburst. “Good.”

Once more, Loki kissed you, catching you completely by surprise. Usually he liked to show his love through little things, but tonight he couldn’t seem to keep his lips off yours. Not that you were complaining, of course. The displays of affection were certainly as welcome out in public as they behind closed doors. You tenderly caressed his cheek and brushed a lock of hair from his eyes.

“The Yule log,” he said. “It was the one night a year I felt like we were truly a family. Father, mother, Thor, and I would sit around the fire into the late hours of the night, laughing and telling stories.” He zoned out for a second and you let him reminisce before continuing. “I remember when I was just a small child, father even let me fall asleep on his lap sometimes. And then as we got older and things became more tense, there was still always that night.”

“Loki,” you whispered, “that’s lovely. I would love to light a Yule log for our little family, if you’ll allow it.”

“I would love nothing more, my angel.”

Then you excitedly whisked him back to the Tower, where you promptly told everyone the plan. They gathered around, and Loki conjured a log which you lit together. You snuggled with your prince in an oversized chair, safely tucked under his arm.

“My angel,” he whispered, “I really cannot thank you enough. And I vow to be more open with you from now on. Because I trust you and love you more than anything else in the Nine Realms and beyond.”

“You’re welcome, Loki. I love you, too, though I never could say it as eloquently as you can,” you chuckled. “Happy Yule, my love.”

“Happy Yule, darling.”

You began to doze off against his side. Loki listened to the conversation and laughter flowing all around him. Soon, everyone followed your lead and began drifting off to sleep. He smiled as he realized he got to keep his favorite tradition of sitting around the Yule log with his family, after all.

“Happy Yule, mother,” he whispered into the night before falling asleep, too.

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takemyopenheart · 3 years

Text

Think of Me (Waiting series - part 2 of 3)

summary: There are thousands of miles between Ethan and Luz—which begs the question: does absence really make the heart grow fonder?

He feels his chest constrict at the fleeting thought of her, and he shuts his eyes to let the darkness encompass him. But he knows no amount of darkness can overshadow the light that seeps in when she crosses his mind. The past seven weeks have kept him preoccupied, which is exactly what he wanted. Fighting an epidemic was front and center in his mind, but that didn’t mean he was completely void of certain memories.

His body aches from standing long hours and attending to every last patient, and he remembers one instance in which she rubbed his shoulders one night after a long shift. She sat him down between her legs and used her magic touch to massage the ache away; it was unlike anything he’d experienced. He’d argue that any professional masseuse couldn’t hold a candle to Luz. How he would give anything to feel her intoxicatingly soothing caresses...

No. Snap out of it.

If anyone was there to physically slap the thoughts away, he would certainly allow it. Raking his hand through his hair, he bolts for the bathroom to splash cold water over his face. A chill runs through him as the coolness hits his face, and he slouches over, holding both sides of the sink as he takes in deep breaths. His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, and he looks up into the mirror.

The shadows under his eyes are darker than ever, his frown lines are deeper, his stubble has grown. It’s a reflection he’s grown accustomed to in the past month. He rarely wants to sleep, there’s no time for that when people need him. But it’s no wonder his colleagues forced him to take the day off. He finally realized they were right in that he needed to take a recess if he wanted to be in tip-top shape for the ongoing battle they were up against. Doctors need breaks too, he was just often too stubborn to recognize that.

He wonders if she knows where he is—if Naveen’s shared the news by now. If she’s thinking of him like he is thinking of her. Whether she hates him now for not saying goodbye.

This is the exact reason why he protested his colleagues’ advice; he’s become his own worst enemy. Any time he’s alone with his thoughts, there’s only one name, one face, and one voice that invades his mind.

No amount of distraction, time, or distance can erase the memories of her, and it’s a realization that scares him to death. He’s fallen—he’s fallen deep, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to get out. He had to be honest with himself; the main reason he left had to do with her.

The loud groan that escapes him is the only sound in the room, and beyond, it seems. It’s been a quiet night for the most part. The droplets of water continue falling down his face, his now-dampened shirt, and onto the floor. He catches his reflection again; it’s a depressing sight. How pathetic has he become? His resolve comes back at once.

Of course he’ll get out of it. He won’t let anything—especially anyone—affect his psyche. Any intimate feelings are just neurochemical responses to heightened stress and frequent exposure to each other. It’s what he’s always told himself. It makes perfect sense.

Everything he’s been through with Luz, and how she got involved with Naveen’s case is further evidence that supports his theory. It’s no surprise they grew close. She was there during his worst...and never gave up on him. It’s not something he’s used to...she saw him for who he was...she got to know parts of him he never dared show anyone...and she accepted him...

He suddenly, and forcefully, grabs the towel beside him to dry himself and the small puddle that has formed by his feet. His knees ache as he bends down, but he ignores the pain. After shutting the bathroom light off, he sits on the edge of the bed again. The night is silent and still, it’s an atmosphere so foreign to him now. It’s been anything but silent from the moment he arrived in the Amazon and got ready to work.

The pen from the patient file he’d been working on lays next to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Another thought soon rushes its way into his head again, and without thinking twice, he grabs it and opens the drawer for the notebook inside.

He opens the notebook to an empty page. He slips his glasses on and fiddles with the pen, almost building up the courage for what he’s about to write. She’s waiting to hear from you...give her an explanation.

He shakes the uncertainty away and begins writing.

‘Dear Luz,

I know what you’re thinking. Why now? Why this way? What a coward. Even if you don’t think so, it’s the only word that adequately sums up how I’ve been feeling since I left. Nothing I say will ever be enough to eradicate the hurt I know I’ve caused you. And I will never forgive myself for that. I couldn’t face you. I’m used to running, but you know me well enough by now that you’ve probably already figured that out.

Without you, I don’t know where Naveen would be. Or where I would be. You were, no, you are nothing short of incredible. Naveen’s revitalized health is proof of the amazing doctor that you are. And that brings me to my next point.

I don’t regret what we had. I care about you, please don’t believe otherwise. Which is why we both know this can’t continue. We can’t let anything hinder your full potential. Your career is too important. You matter too much. I won’t be the burden that gets in the way of that. We need to restart. Perhaps I’m going about this the wrong way, but I just couldn’t say goodbye.

You deserve all the happiness in the world. I’m sorry that can’t be with me. I hope you understand. I never thought I’d meet someone like you, but I don’t deserve you. Someone who won’t run will be worthy of you. Thank you for all you’ve done, I won’t ever forget it. Continue being the amazing woman that you are. Thank you for the time we had. I’ll cherish it.’

His hand halts, and he rubs his stinging eyes. The words on the paper appear blurry, his eyes refusing to allow them to come into focus. He adjusts his glasses on again, and the first word his gaze lands on is ‘coward’. He lets out a humorless laugh. ‘Damn right I am’, he thinks to himself.

The word embodies him further as he suddenly tears the page out of the notebook and rips it in half, before haphazardly tossing the crumpled paper across the room.

‘And that’s all I’ll ever be.’

•

Nearly 5,000 miles away, Luz sits in the once-familiar living room. She turns to the smiling face beside her, taking in the smile she’s missed so much. It’s been a long time since she’s seen him. Too long, and she feels so much contentment being near him. Her heart is full; there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

This is what she needed. To move past everything she’s been through this past month. And to do that, there was no better place than California. The place she used to call home. And to surround herself with the people whom she’s missed beyond belief since moving to Boston.

He puts his arm around her just before the camera flashes. Their smiles are wide and sincere. It’s a perfect moment to capture the happy Beltrán reunion.

"Okay, ahora it’s our turn!" Elena Beltrán chirps before rushing over to sit in between her two kids. "Ven, mi amor. Siéntate con nosotros. (Come here, my love, and sit with us) We need a picture. All four of us," she calls out to her husband, Jorge.

He places the phone on the fireplace mantel and comes to sit on the couch for another impromptu picture. He sits next to his youngest, who’s come home for the weekend from Boston just to see them. He and his wife couldn’t contain their joy that she’d be visiting just before their son, Sebastián, was to move to Oregon. It meant they’d all be together—a rare occurrence since Luz moved to the East Coast.

The camera flashes again. Luz’s cheeks feel like they’re about ready to burst from the permanent smile that’s been planted on her face since the moment she rushed into her family’s arms.

They’re just glad to see her content. From what they understood, she had been going through some things in her personal life that she needed to get away from for a while. She was open with them regarding her involvement with her colleague and boss Ethan Ramsey. They were aware that they’d grown close while working on a case together.

For years, he was someone she admired. So much so, that his research was the reason she applied to medical school. Ethan had made an important impact on her life. She never divulged just how close they’d grown, but if he was the reason she needed to get away from Boston, they knew it had probably become a close relationship. They never judged her for it. She was a smart woman. But sometimes you can’t help what your heart feels.

"Now, you two kids prepare for a feast. Mami and I will be in the kitchen, you two just make yourselves comfortable," Jorge says as he and Elena make their way to the kitchen.

Luz makes to stand. "Dad, no way. I’m helping—"

"Mija, sit down. We got this. You just got home from a long flight. I won’t take no for an answer," he says sternly, but with a warm expression on his face.

She slumps down on the couch, watching her dad gesturing for her and Sebastián to stay put. She can’t help but smile at his insistence to take care of them. It’s always been this way when she and her brother are home.

Sebastián turns to her, grinning from ear to ear. "It’s good to see you, sis. I didn’t think we’d see you till December."

"I didn’t either. But, really, I’m just here to annoy you," she jokes, though the smile doesn’t fully reach her eyes. Bash knows his little sister is trying to distract herself from whatever went down between her and that Ramsey guy. He can’t help but feel some resentment toward him for breaking her heart.

"Want me to kick his ass?"

"No, Bash. I’m better, I promise. I just needed a little break." She sighs, though she quickly covers it and stands on her feet. "Come on, let’s sneak up on mami and papi!"

Sebastián watches her tiptoe her way toward the kitchen and lift a finger to her lips to keep him quiet. He huffs out a laugh and decides to follow her. This quickly takes them back to the time they would sneak around every Christmas night to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus.

Jorge and Elena are too preoccupied getting the champurrado just right to notice their two kids crouched down behind the island.

"I see you," Jorge calls out with a soft laugh and a shake of his head.

"Dammit," Luz mumbles.

"Not as stealthy as once before, sis." Sebastián chortles, and they spring up from behind their hiding place.

"Anyway, I thought I told you kids to stay away," Jorge reminds them.

"Well, I’m helping anyway. Bash can laze about, but I’m helping, whether you like it or not." Luz remains adamant and takes the spoon from her mom to begin stirring the champurrado.

"Mom, dad, why don’t Luz and I take over. You two go sit down this time—"

"Yeah, go make-out or something. We got this." Her lips curve into a beaming smile

Sebastián grimaces in disgust, and Elena and Jorge laugh to themselves before stepping aside to allow them space. He begins shooing them away. "Go, go. We won’t poison you, we promise. Or at least I won’t. Can’t say the same about Luz."

"Hey!" she retorts with a frown before playfully giving him a shove.

"We trust you kids," Elena says as they make their retreat. And with a tender smile, she stares back at the comforting scene of her two kids together under the same roof, bickering like old times.

"And don’t you forget it! Come on, Bash, help me with the lemon bars while I continue stirring this," Luz instructs, and they get to work.

Being in the kitchen she grew up in fills her heart with the joy she’s missed these past few weeks. She’ll open up to her family eventually, all she wants to do right now is focus on the here and now.

It’s true what they always say: there’s no place like home.

•

Thanks for reading! Ily💗

•

@openheartfanfics

#ethan ramsey #open heart #Ethan x Luz #old fic from deleted blog #ethan ramsey fanfiction

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