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marjansmarwani · 3 years

Text

tender-hearted sadness pulls me through the day

7.9k || ao3

Carlos is hurt, badly, and TK is faced both with the awful possibility of losing him and the fact that his parents still don't know about them. He promised Carlos he could tell them in his own time though, and he doesn't intend to break that promise for anything. Even if it means he can't be there, even if it means he has to hope from a distance. He would do anything for Carlos, after all.

aka that Carlos’s parent’s fic I’ve been working on for what feels like forever. It’s finally done and since @officereyes was the one who insisted I write it in the first place and it is her birthday, it feels only right to offer it as a part 2/on the actual correct day gift (surprise). I hope you enjoy it Jamie!

This idea was also requested by @noxsoulmate after I had already started writing it so I also hope you enjoy, and that it was worth the wait! This was started around the same time that 2x04 aired so it is definitely no longer canon compliant, though I did tweak a few things as the season progressed. Thanks to @justaswampdemon for reading through it last night to tell me if any of it actually made sense or not because I wasn’t sure after working on it for so long!

--------------------

TK couldn’t stop staring at his hands.

They were shaking and though he had nearly scrubbed them raw he could still feel the memory of the blood that had coated them only a half-hour before. It was Carlos’s blood and the reminder sent his hands trembling all over again. The sight of the accident was still so fresh in his mind. It was everywhere, trapped in all of his senses — the fear of realizing just who it was trapped in the crushed vehicle, the overwhelming scent of the blood stuck in his head, the sound of the heart monitor flatlining and his own desperate pleas for Carlos to stay with them, the helplessness of Carlos’s life leaking away under his fingers — he couldn't shake it. He knew he wasn’t likely to until he saw Carlos, until he had proof that he was okay.

But he was also a medic and he knew that the alternative, the thing he was trying so hard not to think about, to not put any energy into, was just as likely an outcome as any.

His anxiety spiral is interrupted by the sound of frantic footsteps that pause as they grow closer to his seat.

“TJ?”

He sat bolt upright at the sight of Carlos’s parents, expressions tense and eyes full of fear, before him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reyes,” he stammered, standing up and shoving his shaking hands into the pockets of his pants, “hi. Uh, have they told you anything yet?”

“No,” Mrs. Reyes said fearfully, “we just got here.”

TK nodded, anxiously twisting at the interior of his pockets, “I’m sure someone will be by soon,” he assured her, “he’s only been here for about an hour.”

“And how long have you been here?” Carlos’s father asked him, studying him with a piercing gaze.

“About an hour,” TK repeated, “I was on shift, we responded to the accident. I rode in on the ambulance with him and since it was the end of my shift anyways and my Captain knows Carlos and I are...close, she told me just to stay.”

He met Mr. Reyes’s gaze, refusing to look away and hoping desperately that he hadn’t noticed his falter. It wasn’t a lie, but the omission weighed on him. Never once since their start had he denied his feelings for Carlos. He had made that mistake once, in the very beginning, and it had nearly prevented what they had become. But he had no other choice; he had made Carlos a promise. And he wouldn’t break it, not for anything.

The other man’s father nodded, eyes zeroing in on the paramedic badge on his shirt. “I thought you said you were a firefighter?”

“I was, the paramedic thing is pretty new. We lost one at our station, during the volcano, and I was already dual certified from New York so…” he trailed off with a shrug, his gaze drifting from the parents before him to the doors of the trauma wing Carlos had been wheeled into upon their arrival.

“You treated him?”

TK snapped his gaze back to find Mrs. Reyes looking at him with wide eyes. He swallowed, and nodded, “I did, ma’am,” he confirmed, voice soft with repressed emotion.

“And?” she asked him desperately, eyes shining with unshed tears, “How is he? How is my boy?”

How did he tell them? How did you tell your boyfriend’s parents that not even an hour ago you had been scared out of your mind that he was going to die in your arms even as you and your team worked desperately to save him? How did you do all of that without showing the emotion, how did you do that when they don’t know — when they can’t know — that his presence is what allows you to sleep soundly each night, that his smile is the thing you most look forward to seeing each and every day?

They were both looking at him as if he held all the answers and to be fair, he did. In terms of what had happened, at least. He was just as clueless as anyone else as to what would come next.

“He was involved in a very serious accident,” he settled on. “He lost a lot of blood but we managed to get him stabilized in the field. That’s all I know though. If I knew more…”

He trailed off but Carlos’s mother shook her head, reaching out to place a warm and trembling hand on his arm, “Thank you,” she told him, “for telling us, and for saving him. Carlitos is so lucky to have such a wonderful friend.”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation, even though her well-intentioned words stung, even though he had to swallow what would have come next: he would do anything for Carlos.

------------

It’s another few hours before his dad and the rest of the 126 show up. He may have been exaggerating when he had told Mrs. Reyes that his shift was ending when they arrived at the hospital. The reality was that Tommy had told him to stay. She had said that she and Nancy could handle the last few hours without him and that he would be too distracted to focus for the remainder of the shift so he may as well just stay. She had been right, but that meant there had still been a shift to be finished before anyone else was available to join his vigil.

A doctor had come by, a short while ago to give them an update. The surgery had gone well and while they had repaired the damage, they cautioned them that he was not out of danger yet, that the next several hours would be key. The knowledge had settled like a lead weight in TK’s stomach, the dread seeping through his veins. He saw his own fear clearly reflected in the eyes of Carlos’s parents and knows that they are all connected by it, even if they don’t know it.

When the doctor told them that Carlos was being moved to a recovery room where he would be closely monitored and that a nurse would be by when he was settled to let them know, TK realized a whole other layer to this nightmare. He won’t be able to be there. There is no way he can justify sitting by Carlos’s bedside to his parents as a “friend from work.” In order to be there for Carlos, he would have to tell them the truth, and he can’t do that. Not when he made Carlos a promise.

That’s how his team finds him: alone in the waiting room, leg anxiously bouncing against the floor as he stares in the direction of the recovery rooms, wanting nothing more than to be able to be beside Carlos, to have concrete evidence that he hadn’t lost him.

He allowed himself to be pulled into hugs and subjected to comforting pats before anyone asks the question he’s been dreading. It’s Marjan that does, her unwavering and empathetic gaze studying him as she speaks the words: “Is he still in surgery?”

“No, he’s in recovery now.” TK assured them, allowing them a moment to take a breath of relief before he continued, “The doctors said that the next few hours will be crucial, that those will be what really makes the difference. So we’re just...hoping for the best.”

They all nodded, but Paul’s piercing gaze studied him, “If he’s in recovery, why are you out here and not in there?”

TK bit his lip, turning his gaze downwards. He and Carlos hadn’t exactly shared their conflict about his parents with their friends. If TK was being honest, he had been hoping they wouldn’t ever have to, that they would cross that bridge before it ever became an issue. Clearly, the universe had other plans.

“His parents are in there,” he replied, hoping that maybe they wouldn’t push, that maybe they could just leave it there.

But these were their friends, and they wouldn't be so easily satisfied.

“Is he not out to them?” Marjan asked gently, taking the seat beside him.

“No, he’s out to them it’s just...complicated.”

“How complicated can it be?” Judd asked as he settled into a seat across from them, “he’s out and you two are solid. Seems pretty uncomplicated to me.”

TK didn’t know how to explain it, exactly. “They don’t know he’s in a relationship,” he settled on, “and he’s not ready to tell them. We...talked about it a few months ago, and I told him that was fine. That we could move at his pace. I mean,” he broke off here with a shrug, meeting the eyes of his teammates, “it’s the least I can do for him, right? Extend him the same understanding he gave me?”

The others exchanged glances that TK couldn’t read. Judd looked in the direction of the recovery rooms, “This ain’t right kid,” he said softly, “Carlos would want you there. You should be there.”

TK shook his head firmly, “I promised him he could tell them on his own terms, Judd. I told him I would wait as long as he needed. I can’t make that choice for him, and I won’t. I made him a promise.”

There was silence in the wake of his words. The others exchanged glances and TK looked away, not wanting to see their pity. He knew he was making the right choice, but that didn’t make the reality of it any easier to face. Carlos had nearly died in his arms just a few hours ago. The cold fear of losing him was still fresh in his mind, he still hadn’t been able to shake the chill from his bones. And now he was in a room just down the hall and TK couldn’t be there. Of all the challenges they had faced, this might just be the worst one yet.

Paul let out a low breath and shook his head, “I hear you man, and it’s admirable. I get you wanting to respect Carlos’s wishes, but you’ve got to think about yourself too. Maybe it would be easier for you to not be here? Sitting here and not being able to be with him has to be hard. You could go home, wait there instead. We’ll let you know if there are any updates.”

TK gave him a tight smile, “I appreciate it, but no. Even though I can’t be with him, I can’t imagine not being as close to him as possible. I’m not going anywhere.”

------------

His friends come and go, but TK simply waits. He assures them that he’s fine when asked, but otherwise, he is not great company. All he can manage to do is sit quietly and wait. And hope. He takes a turn around the waiting room, he bounces his leg anxiously at his seat, he fiddles with his necklace. He does everything he can to keep his body busy while his mind is fully occupied.

He knows that right down the hall his boyfriend, the person who he might just love more than anyone else on this planet, is in a medically induced coma. He knows that he can’t be there, and he knows why.

That doesn’t mean he hates it any less.

That also doesn’t mean that the last image he has of Carlos — bloody and crashing on a gurney being rushed to a trauma room — is going to leave his mind any time soon. He needs to see him. He needs visual confirmation to cancel out the nightmare image running through his head. He knows that he can’t, not right now, but he won’t leave until he can.

The waiting room empties and fills again several times during his vigil. The daylight he had entered in had faded long ago and the dark night sky was visible each time the hospital doors slid open. It was still a few hours before he saw Mr. and Mrs. Reyes leave from his corner of the waiting room. They stepped through the hospital doors hand in hand, Mr. Reyes rubbing comforting circles on his wife’s back as they headed back to their car, presumably to go home and get a few hours of sleep.

TK, who had been coming close to dozing off in his seat, was suddenly wide awake. Carlos’s parents were gone, he could go see him. He was out of his seat in an instant, his feet carrying him towards the door he had been staring at all day before his head could properly catch up. It wasn’t until he neared the door that he slowed, that he processed.

It felt almost wrong to be sneaking in. He felt almost guilty for waiting for Carlos’s parents to leave, for jumping on the opportunity the moment it presented itself. But he needed to see Carlos. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to settle until he did. He could not have the last image of him in his mind be what he had looked like when they exited the ambulance. He may have gotten the same updates from the doctor but that did nothing to ease his fear. He had nearly felt Carlos die under his hands all those hours ago. He needed to feel him breathing too.

He stepped in quietly, though he knew there was no danger of waking him. He had barely made it over the threshold before he froze, nearly toppled by the wrongness of seeing Carlos so still. To the casual observer, he probably looked like he was sleeping. But TK knew Carlos Reyes. The man was an energetic sleeper. He moved constantly in the night, always shifting and reaching out to pull TK closer when he felt he had strayed too far away. Always striving to press his body against his, always keeping them close; even in sleep. But it was more than that. His face was all wrong. Carlos’s face was expressive, even in sleep. Whatever he was thinking or feeling or dreaming was always laid out in full display for TK to read but now his face was blank. That more than anything struck TK as so foreign, so unusual.

He took a deep, wavering breath as he crossed the room, running his eyes over him as he drew closer. From the outside, he didn’t look too badly injured, but TK knew with a cold certainty that most of the damage was hidden by bandages under the blankets. He knew that there was so much more to this than met the eye, that as wrong as Carlos looked in this bed it was a far sight better than the alternative — than what he had feared from the moment they arrived on the scene.

“Hey babe,” he said softly as he reached the side of the bed, reaching out to run a hand through Carlos’s curls, “you look better than you did earlier. I hope you’re feeling better too.”

He paused here, taking another moment to study him up close now. He bit his lip against the tears that wanted to come. He didn’t know how much time he would have here, he wasn’t going to waste any of it crying.

“I know it’s going to take some time,” he said instead when he managed to steady his voice, “and I want you to know you should take all the time you need. We’ll be fine until you’re ready. I’ll be fine. I just,” he broke off, took a steadying breath, and started again, “I just want you to know that I probably won’t be here a lot, just in case you ever wonder why you can’t hear me, if you can hear any of us. I need you to know it’s not because I don’t want to be here or that I don’t love you. Because I do, so much. And there is nowhere I would rather be than right here with you at all times. But I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. It’s…” he trailed off, taking another breath as he leaned forward, taking Carlos’s hand in his own, “it’s the least I can do,” he finished softly.

He lapsed into silence then, savoring in the sight of his chest lightly rising and falling with each breath. Not so long ago he thought he might never see that again. He had never realized just how much he had taken the concept for granted. He vowed that he never would again.

He leaned forward now, resting his head on the arm not intertwined with Carlos’s. “I just need you to come back to us,” he said quietly. “I need you to come back to me. I don’t want to face life without you. Don’t make me, please.”

Even though he knew there would be no reaction, even though he knew the other man was heavily sedated, he studied his face for any hint of recognition, any glimmer of hope he could sustain himself with. There was none and it was that truth and the weight of Carlos’s hand in his that saw him off into a fitful sleep.

------------

The sound of footsteps woke TK, causing him to sit bolt upright and glance around frantically, heart thudding in his chest.

“Relax,” an unfamiliar voice instructed, “we definitely don’t need a cardiac patient on our hands, on top of everything else.”

It took several tries to blink the sleep out his eyes before he could make out the scene in front of him. He was in Carlos’s room. He must have fallen asleep here. He pulled himself fully upright, stretching and rubbing at the back of his neck with a grimace as he studied the nurse checking Carlos’s vitals. She glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow, “Good morning.”

“What time is it?” he croaked out.

“Just past 6, so I’d imagine if anyone were to come back after going home to sleep for the night they’d likely be back soon.”

“How’d you…”

She shrugged as she checked Carlos’s IV, “Call it an educated guess. I mean, I know you paramedics are pretty dedicated but I have yet to see any of you spend an entire day in the waiting room for a patient. Figured there had to be a bit more to it than meets the eye. That, or I have to call security on you.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” TK said softly, reaching out to take Carlos’s limp hand in his own, tenderly rubbing his thumb across it, “but his parents don’t really know. It’s...complicated.”

The nurse’s eyes softened as she studied him, “You probably have almost an hour before anyone else shows up, visiting hours don’t officially start until 7 anyways. After that, you should try to get some sleep. You’re starting to look like you should have a bed of your own.”

TK shook his head, “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, sounding wholly unconvinced. “Well if you are around later and want an update feel free to ask for me at the nurses’ station. My name’s Becky.”

“Thank you, Becky,” he said with a small smile, “you have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

She waved off his thanks as she headed towards the door. She paused on the threshold, turning back to study him again, “Hey, Paramedic?”

“TK,” he provided.

“TK, then. If I find out you’re lying to me and that I should have called security…”

He gave her a grin and a tired laugh, “Then you know where I work,” he reminded her, gesturing towards his uniform, “pretty sure you’ll be able to track me down.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I hope everything works out for you two and for what it’s worth, he’s doing okay.”

“Thanks, Becky,” he said softly, turning his gaze back to Carlos’s still form before Becky smiled at them from the doorway and stepped quietly out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

--------------------

“This is an intervention,” Paul announced.

TK looked up sharply to see his team gathered around him several hours later. He had slipped back into the waiting room around 6:30, heedful of Becky’s warning. It was now just past 10 and he was currently being stared down by his team. He furrowed his brow in confusion and was just about to ask exactly what the hell Paul meant by that when Marjan continued.

“You’ve been here for over 24 hours now, TK. You’re still wearing yesterday’s uniform, you haven’t eaten and I doubt you’ve slept much.”

“I got a few hours!” he interjected but faltered when he was met with 4 equally unimpressed looks.

“And while I’m sure that was adequate sleep,” she continued in a tone that made it clear she did not in fact believe that, “you need more than that. Preferably in a bed. Preferably in your own bed.”

TK looked down and Judd continued, voice gentle, “You need to take care of yourself, kid. You can’t be there for him if you keel over. Let us help you out.”

TK bit at his lip. He knew they were right, logically. There was only so long he could keep this up. Soon enough his body would start protesting. He could already feel the effects of little sleep and no food in his sluggish thoughts. Realistically he knew they were right, but he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Carlos. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. The thought that something might happen when he wasn’t there was enough to keep him rooted to his spot in the waiting room, consequences be damned. “I can’t leave him,” he choked out, “if something were to happen…”

He trailed off, but Paul simply shook his head, “Nope, you’re coming with us. Judd and I are going to take you home. You’re going to shower, change, eat something and get at least 4 hours of sleep. Then - and only then - we’ll bring you back. Marjan and Mateo will stay here and let us know if anything changes. If it does we’ll bring you right back, promise.”

TK scanned the faces of his friends. They wore matching looks of determination, and he knew that this was not an argument he was going to win. He nodded, pulling himself out of his seat and throwing another glance in the direction of Carlos’s room. He felt a hand on his arm and looked over to see Marjan giving him a sad smile, “Don’t worry, we won’t let you miss anything.”

“Yeah dude, we’ve got this!” Mateo assured him as he plopped into an empty seat.

TK gave them both a grateful smile. He wished he could have offered more, but he couldn’t find the words. Nothing his mind produced seemed adequate enough to express the level of gratitude he felt for each and every one of them. He hoped they knew.

He allowed himself to be led to Judd’s truck and as they pulled away from the hospital, his mind began to wander. Logically, he knew Carlos was in good hands, that leaving the hospital did nothing to hurt his chances. But not being there just felt wrong, as if he was tempting fate. As if his desperate hope could only have an effect from within the same building.

TK was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice how close they were to their destination until the truck came to a halt outside of the condo. He froze as he looked at it, the thought of stepping foot inside their shared home without Carlos washing over him. He knew he was being too quiet, he knew that the other two had noticed that something was wrong. Judd eyed him in the rearview mirror.

“Is this okay?” he asked. “I can bring you to your dad’s if you’d rather, but I figured all your stuff is here so…”

“No,” TK said, voice too soft. “No,” he tried again, voice a little more sure this time, “you’re right Judd, all my stuff is here. It’s fine, really. Thanks for driving me.”

“Yeah, we’re not just going to leave you,” Paul told him, pushing open the passenger side door and climbing out, “we’re staying with you to make sure you actually do the things covered in our bargain. Plus,” he added in a gentler tone as he opened TK’s door and met his eyes, “you don’t need to be alone right now.”

TK swallowed and nodded. He slid out of the truck without a word, crossing to the front door and pulling his keys out of his pocket. He inserted his key into the door with trembling hands and pushed it open, holding it open behind him for Judd and Paul. Once they were all inside he shut it behind them, the sound of the lock clicking into place the only sound. They stood in silence as TK looked around, trying to take in the once familiar surroundings that now felt so foreign. The clutter of day to day life was scattered throughout the living space, left waiting for them to return home and resume their lives. It was a cruel reminder of just how sudden this had been; of how much they stood to lose.

Paul gave him a gentle shove towards the stairs, interrupting his reverie, “Go and get showered and changed, we’ll work on the food. Come back down when you’re ready.”

TK nodded and ascended the stairs without a word. He entered their bedroom without really looking at anything, making a beeline for the dresser so as to avoid the sight of the haphazardly made bed; left rumpled when they had both decided on a late start the previous morning, abandoning their usual morning routine in favor of other pursuits. He grabbed the first pants and hoodie he found, pulling them out and heading to the bathroom without even a glance at the garments in his hand.

Several minutes later he was forced to admit that the hot water felt good. It revived him in a way the restless sleep at Carlos’s bedside hadn’t, and it allowed him to peel back the layers of everything to find some of the positives. Namely that Carlos had survived surgery, that while he wasn’t out of the woods there had been no changes for the worst (or for the better, but a hot shower was a place for optimism.)

He stepped out feeling renewed. As he reached for his towel he reminded himself that it hadn’t even been 36 hours. In the grand scheme of things, that was practically nothing. For injuries like those, it was perfectly normal. There was no reason to expect the worst, not yet.

He pulled on the clothes he had grabbed, soft joggers and one of Carlos’s APD hoodies that he had claimed as his own months ago and tried to keep focusing on the positives, but his optimism faded along with the lingering warmth of the shower. Maybe the worst hadn’t happened and he was certainly grateful for that, but where they were was a world away from “good.”

He made his way down the stairs, turning the corner to find Judd and Paul in quiet conversation in the kitchen. They looked up when he appeared, Judd answering the question on his lips before he could even ask it: “No, no updates from the other two. Seems like all’s quiet there.”

TK nodded gratefully and slid into the seat across from them. Judd slid a bowl of something that TK knew objectively should smell amazing in front of him, but all he could do was stare at it.

“Thank you, but…”

“No,” Judd cut him off firmly, “you need to eat. Unless you want to be the one to tell my wife that you wouldn’t eat the food she sent over for you?”

TK sighed and picked up the fork pointedly taking a bite, and Judd huffed out a laugh, “Smart choice.”

The other two returned to their own bowls and they ate in companionable silence. TK appreciated their understanding. He was beyond grateful to his friends for everything, but even the thought of any conversation right in this moment felt like torture. The only thoughts he could manage right now were of Carlos, and the checklist of tasks required by his team before he would be allowed to return.

He finished his food in silence, getting up and crossing to the sink to rinse it out and place it in the dishwasher. He had just reached the sink when a hand stopped him, taking the bowl from his grasp.

“I’ve got this,” Judd told him, “you need sleep.”

“4 hours,” Paul reminded him from the counter, “in a bed.”

“If there are any updates…”

“We’ll let you know,” Paul assured him.

TK swallowed and nodded, turning and heading back upstairs with a soft thanks. He entered their bedroom again, this time unable to ignore the queen-sized elephant in the room. He lowered himself onto his side of the bed, muscle memory guiding him to lay on his left side, giving him a full view of Carlos’s empty pillow.

The sight of him hit him harder than anything else and suddenly he felt as if walls were closing in around him. All the feelings he had been pushing back, holding at bay so he didn’t fall apart at the wrong moment breached his tenuous barriers. The catalyst grew harder to see as his vision was clouded with tears. He rolled over, turning his back to the reminder as his body shook with sobs too long repressed. He let 36 hours of pain and fear and panic out as he lay in their bed, hoping desperately that the aching emptiness beside him did not become his new reality.

Eventually, he drifted off into a fitful sleep; head resting on his tear-soaked pillow and clinging to the desperate hope that when he woke up, things would look better.

————-

Things didn’t look much better when he woke up, but his head did feel a little clearer.

He woke with a jolt at the sensation of someone lightly shaking him. He sat up quickly to find Paul standing next to him, hands raised in a placating manner, “Easy man, it’s just me.”

TK could feel fear creeping through his mind. If Paul was waking him up then…

“What happened?” he choked out. He knew he shouldn’t have left. He should have fought them more, he should have insisted on staying, no matter what.

“Nothing,” Paul assured him, voice even and soothing, “everything’s fine. It’s just been a bit over 4 hours and while personally, I would love to let you sleep longer I figured it was only fair to wake you up and let you decide. There are no new updates and no one is going to judge you for taking the time to get a little more sleep.”

TK took a shuddering breath, willing his heart rate to go back to normal. He shook his head and pulled himself out of the bed, “No, I should be getting back. Thank you though,” he added to Paul, “for waking me up, for everything, really.”

“Of course man. We meant what we said: we’re here for you. I can’t imagine how hard this is, especially given everything, but you’re not alone in this. Don’t forget that. We all care about Carlos too, and we care about you.”

TK looked down, not sure quite how to respond to that. Thankfully, Paul knew him well. His friend put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. TK looked up and gave him a smile that Paul returned, “Take some time to get ready, Judd and I will be ready to leave when you are.”

He nodded again and watched as Paul stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He then took a breath to steady himself before he surveyed the room, actually thinking about what he might need this time around. He grabbed his phone charger and shoved it into his pocket but couldn’t think of anything else he might need. All he could think about was getting back to the hospital as soon as possible. He met the other two downstairs and at his nod they head out without a word, TK only pausing on the threshold for a moment as he glanced back at the empty condo. Soon he would be coming back here, with Carlos. He was sure of it; no other option was acceptable.

He shut the door behind him, turning his key in the lock until he heard the telltale click, and climbed into Judd’s truck for a silent ride to the hospital. When they arrived, he went to climb out but was stopped by Judd’s voice as the older man turned to look at him from the driver’s seat.

“I know you’re worried about him brother,” he said softly. “I can’t even imagine what it must feel like and what a mess I would be if it were Grace, but you still need to take care of yourself, remember that.”

TK swallowed down the emotions that rose up as he met Judd’s eyes.There was so much understanding in them and he knew that the other man knew what he was going through more than most. He gave him a nod, and a promise: “I’ll try.”

Judd nodded in satisfaction and TK climbed the rest of the way out of the backseat, giving his two friends a wave before he stepped out and headed back inside. He immediately headed to the nurses’ station and was about to ask for Becky when a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“TJ? What are you doing back here.”

TK froze at the sound of Mrs. Reyes’s voice. “Hi, Mrs. Reyes,” he began, “I was just checking in to see how Carlos was doing.”

The older woman’s expression softened and she reached out a hand to lay on his arm, “You are such a good person, my son is so lucky to have you as a friend.”

TK swallowed down the bile at the word, at the reminder of why he couldn’t be in there with Carlos. “How is he?” he managed to ask in a normal tone, “Has there been any change?”

Mrs. Reyes shook her head sadly, “No, but the doctors say that is to be expected right now. They say that if things remain as they are they will likely start weaning him off the sedation soon, so I guess that’s a good sign.”

“It is, he assured her, because despite everything she looked worried and he didn’t want her to suffer. “It’s a very good sign. Normal means that nothing is wrong, that things are healing. Paramedic,” he reminded her with a shrug when she shot him a curious glance, “I’m no doctor but I do know a decent amount about traumatic injuries.”

She smiled at him and squeezed his arm, “And I am so glad my Carlitos had someone like you working on him. I know it couldn’t have been easy to see someone you care about hurt like that but you helped to give him a fighting chance. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”

“No thanks needed,” he told her softly, “it’s my job.”

“Still,” she insisted, pulling him into a hug. “I am so glad you are my son’s friend. He deserves wonderful people like you in his life.”

TK stiffened in the hug, her words hitting wounds she didn’t even know existed. He cleared his throat as he gently pulled away. “Thank you for the update,” he told her, “I appreciate it.”

She nodded, “Would you like to come sit with him for a bit? We don’t mind, there is plenty of room.”

The thought of being so close to Carlos but not being able to hold him, of having to stay distant so as not to blow their secret in front of his parents was too much. He was certain he wasn’t strong enough for that.

“Thank you,” he told her, “but I should get going. I don’t want to intrude and I just wanted to see how he was doing.”

“Of course,” she told him warmly, “but if you change your mind, feel free to stop by.”

He nodded and with one last hug she let him go and he stepped away, heading towards the doors. He didn’t know where he was going, there was nowhere else for him to go. He needed to be here, but he couldn’t be in there with them. He couldn’t be so close without revealing their relationship and he refused to do that to Carlos.

He stepped outside into the late afternoon sunlight, trying to decide what to do next. Trying to tamp down on the tears threatening to rise. It was too much. He had thought he was strong enough to handle this but he wasn’t. He couldn’t do this.

“TK?”

His name, said like a question from a familiar voice, caused him to turn to see Marjan heading towards him, a tray of coffees in her hand and a frown on her face.

“Hey Marj,” he said, hoping his voice sounded normal. Judging by the look on her face, he failed.

“What happened? Paul said you just got back. Is there any news? Mateo and I have been keeping an eye out but we didn’t see…”

“No,” he assured her, “no, you didn’t miss anything. Things are still fine. I just…” he trailed off, took a breath and started again. “I just ran into Carlos’s mother. She was very pleasant; offered to let me sit in the room with them. Told me what a good friend I was to her son.”

Marjan’s face dropped, “TK,” she said softly, but any response he could have given was swallowed by the tears he couldn’t stop. He thought he had gotten them all out a few hours ago as he lay in their bed, but clearly he was wrong. There were still plenty more. He felt arms wrap around him as Marjan pulled him into a hug, simply holding him as he cried.

--------------

TK was thumbing through the book Paul left him when Becky approached him. His heart was immediately in his throat and he was about to ask her what was wrong when he noticed that she was grinning.

“He’s awake,” she informed him, “has been for a little bit now. The doctors are running some tests right now so his parents have stepped out, but they should be done shortly, if you want to go see him.”

“Yes,” TK said immediately, “of course. Thank you.”

Becky gave him a warm smile, “It’s the least I could do. I do love a happy ending, after all. Give it about 5 minutes and then the doctors should be done.”

TK nodded, hardly daring to believe that this was real. Carlos was awake. He was okay. “Thank you,” he called out to Becky again as she walked away, “really.”

She gave him another smile before she disappeared around the corner and he was left to wait. He pulled out his phone to send a quick update in the group chat: Carlos was awake and he’d give them more details when he had them. There was a flurry of enthusiastic responses and well wishes before TK realized the 5 minutes were almost up and pulled himself out of his seat, heading towards Carlos.

He crossed to the door almost hesitantly, not quite able to shake the fear that maybe Becky had been wrong, that maybe he was somehow imagining this whole thing. But when he stepped inside and was met with a warm, exhausted gaze from familiar brown eyes, he almost staggered in relief.

“Carlos,” TK breathed and the weak, tired smile he received in return was without a doubt the best sight he had seen in days.

“What are you doing way over there?” Carlos asked him and TK was across the room in an instant, skidding to a halt at Carlos’s beside and placing a tender kiss to the top of his head. He blinked away the tears threatening to fall as he studied Carlos. There was so much he wanted to say to him, so much he needed to say. He just wasn’t sure where to start.

“Hi,” he settled on, and winced. As bedside greetings after a traumatic injury went, it wasn’t a good one.

Thankfully, Carlos chuckled, “Hi to you too. How are you doing?”

“Me?” TK asked incredulously, “Carlos, I’m not the one who nearly died.”

“No,” Carlos agreed, voice growing more serious as he studied him, “but my mom spent some time going on about how my friend ‘TJ’ saved my life. If that had been me and it had been you, I don’t think I would be okay.”

TK shook his head, “Can’t you just worry about yourself for once like a normal person,” he gripped, but there was no heat in his words. Carlos raised an eyebrow at him before he sighed. “It’s been rough,” he admitted, “it wasn’t easy and definitely not an experience I am ever looking to relive, but if it meant saving you I would do it a thousand more times.” He held Carlos’s gaze for several long moments in the wake of his words, making sure that his boyfriend understood just how much he meant it. Any amount of pain or suffering on his own part was acceptable long as Carlos was alive and well at the end of it all.

“But you’re awake now and you’re going to be okay,” he concluded after some time, “nothing else matters.”

“From what I’ve heard, there might be one more thing that matters.” At TK’s questioning look he explained, “My parents. They referred to you as my friend. Did you…?”

He trailed off but TK shook his head vigorously, “No,” he said firmly, “of course not. I promised you you could tell them on your own terms, that I was fine with being the friend as long as it took. I meant that.”

“Ty,” Carlos said softly, squeezing their linked hands and giving him a sad look, “babe. You could have said something. I wouldn’t have been mad. Thinking about you going through this by yourself is worse than any possibility of my parents’ reaction.”

“I wasn’t by myself,” he reminded Carlos, “I had my team. Our friends. I was never alone in this.”

“Remind me to thank them.”

“Oh don’t worry,” TK quipped lightly, leaning into this new topic in an effort to leave talk of his parents and the endless waiting behind, “I am sure they will be here the moment you are allowed more visitors.”

Carlos laughed lightly until he broke off with a grimace of pain. TK leaned forward anxiously, “Are you okay? Does it hurt too badly? Should I get a nurse? Do you--”

“Ty,” Carlos said firmly, “it’s okay. I’m okay. I just jostled things a bit, stop worrying.”

“I don’t think you are ever going to make that possible, Carlos Reyes.”

“Look who’s talking.”

TK opened his mouth to fire a response back but any retort he may have made was interrupted by the arrival of Andrea and Gabriel Reyes in the doorway. TK froze and went to pull his hand out of Carlos’s grasp, but Carlos held tight.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh, out of here?” TK answered, though it came out more like a question, “To give you some time with your parents?”

Carlos shook his head, “You’re not going anywhere. You belong here.” He turned to his parents, who were watching with curious gazes from the doorway, “Mom, Dad, there’s something I need to tell you.”

TK leaned in closer, voice low in Carlos’s ear, “Maybe waking up from a medically induced coma is not the time for major life decisions, babe. You don’t have to do this now.”

Carlos turned his head to meet TK’s dubious expression with his own, “If not now, when? You said it yourself: nothing ever stays the same.”

“Are you sure?”

Carlos smiled at him and squeezed their still intertwined hands, “Yeah, I am.”

He turned his gaze back to his parents, who were watching the proceedings curiously, “I know you’ve already met TK,” he told them, “and I told you he was a friend from work. But I lied to you, he is so much more than that. I’d like you to formally meet my boyfriend, TK Strand.”

TK anxiously watched their reactions only to see that while there were many emotions playing out on the Reyes’ faces, surprise was not amongst them.

“You knew,” he blurts out, unable to help himself.

Gabriel Reyes shrugged, “We were pretty sure after we met y’all at the market, but when you didn’t say anything when we got here we weren’t so sure and we didn’t want to press,” he began. “But seeing how worried you were, and how often you were here, I figured there was something we didn’t know. Plus, you’re wearing his shirt.”

TK looked down at the old APD sweatshirt he barely remembered grabbing on his trip home sheepishly and he could feel Carlos laughing light beside him.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Andrea asked him, eyes wide with sympathy, “All that time you spent waiting by yourself…”

“I made Carlos a promise,” he said simply, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand even as he spoke to his parents. “I promised him he could tell you on his own terms in his own time, and I would never break a promise I made to him for anything.”

The next thing he knew Andrea’s arms were around him again, squeezing him in a bone crushing hug. He nearly staggered back from the force of it, shooting a bewildered look over her shoulder to Carlos, who is smiling fondly at them.

“I was hoping we were right,” she told him softly, “all that time you were, how deeply you cared for him. I am so glad we were, and so happy that my son has someone to love him as much as you do.”

She pulled away to give him a teary smile that he returned. Gabriel stepped forward to wrap an arm around his wife’s shoulder and lean forward to offer TK an outstretched hand.

“It’s a pleasure to properly meet you, TK,” he said warmly. TK smiled at him before taking the offered hand.

“Likewise, sir.”

They ended the handshake and TK looked back to Carlos to see him beaming at him. He shifted over in his bed to make room for TK to perch on the edge beside him. TK did, happily, readjusting the grip of their joined hands so they could rest comfortably in Carlos’s lap.

“I always knew they would like you,” Carlos told him with a grin, raising an eyebrow at his parents, “but I didn’t know what detectives they were.”

“I am a Texas Ranger son,” Gabriel deadpanned, “in case you have forgotten.”

Carlos rolled his eyes at his father, earning him a lackluster admonishment from his mother and TK let the warmth of this moment settle around him. He could tell Carlos’s parents still had questions, he knew there would be some hard conversations to be had in the coming days. But for now they were all here together, and Carlos was okay. Their secret was out and TK didn’t have to hide the love he felt for this man for anyone ever again. He leaned over to press a soft kiss to the top of Carlos’s head, savoring the ability to do so and the way Carlos leaned into him in turn.

Things weren’t perfect but at this moment they were pretty close, and that was more than enough.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #userac #usermaximus #userbones #tuserpaige #laeipoo #maizsnex #buckybarnesalways #immortalstrand #reyeslonestartag #hierophvnts

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lbigreyhound13 · 2 years

Text

All I Want For Christmas is You

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

By @lbigreyhound13 for @imeanthatsprettysnazzy

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Mary Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Mary Parker, Richard Parker, Obadiah Stane, May Parker, Ben Parker

Summary: After a one-night stand between Tony and Mary, Mary comes to Tony telling him that she's pregnant and that he's the father. Only...there's one thing: she does not want Tony involved in the baby's life. Years later, 14-year-old Peter Parker goes through yet another birthday and Christmas with a present from his biological father and wishes more than anything to be able to meet him.

AO3 LINK HERE

prompt 1] biodad tony sends peter very fancy and expensive christmas gifts every year... this year, peter finally manages to track him down and their spend their very first christmas together.

Chapter 1

“I’m pregnant, Tony.”

Those were the words Tony Stark did not expect to hear from Mary Fitzpatrick. He stared at the brunette in complete shock before his brown eyes briefly flashed to the man with glasses standing behind her and then flashing back to her.

“And…y-you’re…the father,” Mary finally said after a moment.

“W-What…how…” Tony tried to say as he attempted to process the brand-new information, “w-when? Where?”

“Come on, Tony,” Mary groaned. “When—you know—when we…slept together about a month ago…I-I came to the penthouse and—”

“But…that…that can’t be,” Tony said breathing heavily. “We used protection.” He remembered that cold December night one month ago. He and Mary were friends through their fathers. They weren’t close like he was with Rhodey, but they knew each other well. On that December night—ironically, the anniversary of his parents’ deaths—Mary came to his Malibu mansion in tears claiming that she broke up with Richard because he cheated on her. They drank a little too much, and the next thing he knew he woke up with Mary next to him in bed.

“Apparently, it wasn’t very effective,” Mary said.

Tony cringed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m so sorry, Mary,” he said. “I mean, I-I’m happy, I am, really. I-I just—”

“It’s okay,” Mary said with a sad smile. “I know. I-I’m happy, too, really, but…” she closed your eyes, “that’s why I came here. I-I can’t have you involved in this baby’s life.”

The billionaire felt his blood run cold as he widened his eyes again. “W-What?” he asked. “W-Why? M-Mare, I-I don’t mind paying child support, and-and the-the baby needs a father. I can try. I can—”

“The baby already has a father,” Mary said bluntly.

Tony looked behind her at Richard. “But…he…he cheated on you,” he said. “That’s why you came over in the first place.”

“We talked it over,” Mary replied, “and we decided to give it another shot. He’s very sorry, and I want to give him another chance. We’re supposed to get married, and…I don’t want to give up on him. I can’t…give up on him. He’s okay with raising the baby, but…I just…I just…we feel that it would be very confusing for the baby to have both you and Richard involved. It would be much easier for Richard…my husband to be seen as the baby’s father. You can still pay child support, but I think it would be best if—”

“No,” Tony simply said, “n-no, I can’t just be invisible. I want to be there for this baby…our baby. Please, Mary, let me—”

“Tony,” Obadiah suddenly said causing Tony to jump and turn around to see that his mentor and right-hand man was still behind him, “I think Mary has the right idea. If the press got wind of you being this baby’s father, it will destroy any life this baby deserves to have. Privacy will go out the window, and Mary will be labeled. The baby will be labeled for the rest of their lives…all because they are connected to you. Is that really what you want for them?”

Tony looked at his assistant, Pepper Potts and Happy Hogan, who both nodded in agreement with Obadiah. He let out a shaky breath. He didn’t think of it that way, but Obadiah was right. The press would for sure jump on the chance to see the woman, who slept with her childhood friend and conceived an illegitimate child together…out of wedlock. It would certainly be frowned upon, and they wouldn’t waste any chance to scrutinize her or the baby. He loved the idea of being the opposite of what Howard was to him…to be a good father. Tony already loved it…even though he hadn’t met it yet, and now…he was being told that his involvement would essentially be the worst thing to ever happen to it. He sighed.

“Okay, okay,” he said taking a step closer to Mary. “But…on one condition,” he refused to disappear completely, “you let me at least sent the baby birthday and Christmas gifts. I’ll pay child support, but I want this child to at least receive something from me on their birthday and Christmas.”

“Tony, I-I don’t know,” Mary began to say.

“Mary, come on,” Richard finally said stepping closer to Mary placing his hands on her shoulders. “It’s two days out of the year, and he at least deserves to give his kid something.”

Mary sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alright,” she said. “We’ll set up a P.O. box or something and you can send something on birthdays and Christmas. Nothing more.”

“Deal,” Tony said eagerly.

(line break)

August 10, 2001

That night in January was the last time he spoke to Mary and Richard. They returned to New York the next day and were married within the next few months, and they set up the PO box for Tony to use. Aside from updates on the pregnancy—ultrasounds and a due date—they rarely spoke, and Tony felt his heart ache over the fact that he wouldn’t get to see this baby grow up…wouldn’t get to hold this baby. He understood where Mary and Obadiah are coming from, but still…he wished that he would get to hold the baby…to love the baby.

No, he still loved the baby. That was something that Mary and Obadiah could never stop…his love for his son or daughter. No matter what happened, he promised that he would always love this baby…his and Mary’s baby son or daughter. No matter what happened or what anyone said or did, this baby was still his son or daughter.

It was a hot and humid August day—August 10, 2001—when his phone rang causing him to jump out of his skin, and he wasted no time in answering the phone. Today was the due date. It could’ve been Mary.

“Hello?” Tony said quickly answering the phone.

“Hi, Tony.”

Tony sat up straight in his chair. “M-Mary…”

He could hear the smile in her voice. “It happened,” she said clearly teary-eyed. “It’s…it’s a boy.”

Tony breathed out shakily as tears came to his eyes. He was happy…overjoyed that he had a son, but also…sad that he missed his son’s birth…that he didn’t get to cut the umbilical cord…or hold his and Mary’s son for the first time. However, he couldn’t say that to Mary. “Oh my god…a son,” he said. He sniffled. “Mare, we have a son.”

“I know,” she said sniffling. “He was born today…at 7:18 AM…7 pounds, 7 ounces, and he’s completely healthy.”

“That’s great,” Tony said beaming from ear to ear. “Did…uh…” He shook his head realizing he forgot to ask something, “…h-how are you doing?”

“Tired, but happy,” she said. “I was in labor for quite a while, but…he made it worth it.”

Tony smiled. “Good, I’m glad,” he said. “Umm…speaking of our little guy…did you pick a name yet?”

“Uhhh…that’s the thing,” Mary replied. “I was hoping…well, Richard suggested that maybe…we could pick a name…together.”

Tony felt his heart pound as he smiled. “Really?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” she said, “I-I know…I know what I said, Tony, but…Richard was right. He is your son, too. You deserve to have a say in his name.”

“Thank God for the cheater, I guess,” the billionaire thought to himself.

“Well, tell him I said ‘thank you,’” Tony said aloud. “Umm…d-do you have any options?” He slipped a piece of paper of his desk drawer…It was a list of boys and girls’ names that he loved.

“Well, we were thinking ‘Benjamin’ for a middle name,” Mary replied, “you know for Richard’s brother, Ben.”

Tony nodded as he swallowed his anger and jealousy. He didn’t want to ruin his chances. He would get to send his kid gifts, but he knew anything he said could change any chance of Mary sticking to that end of the deal. “Okay,” he said aloud.

“Umm…we were also thinking of ‘Alexander,’ ‘Randall,’ ‘Kevin,’ ‘Eugene,’ ‘Harry,’” Mary replied, “and…umm…’Peter.’”

Peter… Tony looked at his list, and sure enough that name was on his list as well. Peter Benjamin Parker… Peter Benjamin Stark in a perfect world, but either way…he liked the sound of that name. “Peter…” Tony repeated, “f-for your dad, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” Mary said clearly not expecting that. “H-How did you…?”

“Because that was who I was thinking of…when I considered that name…” Tony replied. “I-I always liked your dad.”

“He…he liked you too,” Mary replied.

Tony couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he prayed that one day he would get to meet his baby…that one day Mary would reconsider and ask him to be more involved. That day had yet to come, but…for now, this was good. “Let’s…let’s go with ‘Peter,’” he finally said after a moment. “‘Peter Benjamin St-Parker.’”

“‘Peter Benjamin Parker,” Mary said…silently reminding Tony of what she asked of him…how he wasn’t to be involved in the baby…Peter’s life. “I like it. Thank you, Tony, and not just for helping me, but…you know…”

“I-I got to be honest, Mare,” he said. “I…I wish I could be involved, but…I will do anything I can to help you and Peter. You both mean a lot to me. I-I hadn’t even met him, and I love him already.”

“I know,” she said. “Umm…listen, I have to go, but…umm…I’m sure we can send you a picture of him at some point.”

“Yeah…yeah…that…that would be great,” Tony replied. “Thank you, Mary.”

“You’re welcome, Tony.”

(line break)

December 25, 2001-Christmas Day

The day Peter was born was the last time Tony and Mary spoke to each other. Tony wanted to honor Mary’s wishes and keep up his end of the deal while Mary was worried that Tony would see any more contact was a license to get more involved. She knew she was pushing it with allowing Tony to help with naming the baby, but Richard was right when he suggested that Tony should have a say. He was Peter’s biological father, but that was it. Aside from birthday and Christmas gifts, Richard would be Peter’s father in every way but biologically, and she was fine with that. She and Richard loved each other, and they both loved Peter. That was all they needed. However, as much as she hated to admit it, she knew that Tony loved Peter too, but so long as Peter never found out the truth…at least not until he was a little older and capable to understand, then that was good enough for her.

It wasn’t easy for the Parkers to hide the truth, but the only people they trusted with the truth was Richard’s brother, Ben and his wife, May. They knew that Peter was Tony’s biological son, but…as far as they knew, Tony refused to be involved in Peter’s life and settled to only pay child support and to send birthday and Christmas gifts to a PO Box, nothing more. It was Richard’s idea, but Mary agreed that it was for the better that they didn’t know the full story.

Tony already kept his word and sent Peter a gift to the PO Box about a week after he was born. Now, on Christmas morning, Peter was 4 months old, and the little Parker family sat with Peter in front of their Christmas tree. Mary and Richard helped Peter open his presents, and being a baby, he didn’t understand the concept yet. However, he was happy seeing the new toys he got from Santa Claus, and both Mary and Richard couldn’t help but smile.

When Mary and Richard opened their last present to Peter, she noticed one last present out of the corner of her eye under the tree. It was wrapped in blue wrapping paper with snowflakes. She reached over and picked it up reading the label.

“To: Peter

Merry Christmas! I love you so much!

Love, Daddy”

Mary took a deep breath. “Look, pumpkin, here’s another present for you,” she said putting it in front of the infant as he babbled. “It’s from Daddy. You want to open it? Yeah?”

She saw Richard stiffen up and take a deep breath, and she knew that it was okay to give the gift. So, she looked down at her four-month-old son, who stared up at her with his big brown eyes, and slowly tore the wrapping paper off the toy revealing…the book, I’ll Love You Forever.

“Oh, look, Peter,” she said happily trying to control the tears in her eyes, “it’s a book. We can read this at night when you go to sleep. You say ‘thank you, Daddy. I love you too.’”

Richard bent down and kissed Peter on the top of his head. “We love you, Peter,” he said.

“So much,” Mary said before giving him another on the top of his head as well.

(line break)

February 2008

“I’m sorry…there was nothing more we could do…”

Six-year-old Peter Parker jumped hearing his aunt crying from where he sat on the hospital bed. His eyes burned from the tears and how tired he felt. The bandage on his forehead itched as he watched his aunt May and uncle Ben spoke to a doctor right outside his room.

“Oh my God…” he heard Ben breathe, “w-what happened? What…?”

“We took them into surgery…” the doctor replied, “but…their injuries were far too severe. We…we lost them both…I’m…I’m so very sorry. Peter is very lucky to survive.”

Peter was confused about that. He furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion. Why was he lucky? Where were his parents? Everything had happened so fast, but he remembered it so clearly…

He was sitting in the backseat…in the middle.

His mom was looking back at him smiling like she always did…while his dad drove the car…

They were almost home…when…something crashed into their car…

He woke up with a cut on his head…and he tried to call his parents. They didn’t answer…

People took him out of the car…

There were people around him…so many people shouting…poking and prodding him…

He rode in an ambulance with them…but he didn’t see his parents anywhere. Were they going to be mad at him for riding with strangers? They always told him about stranger danger!

Then his Aunt May and Uncle Ben came…and a doctor was talking to them outside.

The memory faded to the back of his mind when he heard talking again. The young boy looked up only to see May and Ben walking back into the room with the doctor behind them.

“Hey, sport,” Ben said smiling at him. However, Peter barely missed the tears in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I want Mommy and Daddy,” Peter said with tears of his own. “Where are they?”

May and Ben looked at each other, then at the doctor, and then back at Peter.

“Umm…doc, can you give us a minute?” Ben finally asked.

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll be right outside.” With that, he left the three of them alone in the quiet hospital room.

“Uh…listen, Peter,” Ben said, “there’s something we need to talk to you about…about Mommy and Daddy.”

Peter looked at his uncle and aunt seeing the tears in their eyes. “Something bad happened, didn’t it?” he asked.

“I’m afraid so, baby,” May said. “Umm…Mommy and Daddy…they…they went away. They…died, sweetie. Do you know what that means?”

Peter shook his head feeling his heart pound. He didn’t like where this was going, and he wished with all his heart that it would stop…that his parents would come in and tell May and Ben to stop scaring him and take him home.

“It means they’re…not alive anymore, buddy,” Ben said sadly trying his hardest not to burst out crying in front of his nephew. “They…when the accident happened…they were hurt very…very badly, and…the doctors tried to help them. But…they couldn’t get their bodies to work anymore. So…they died. They went to Heaven tonight.”

“Will they…will they ever come back?” Peter asked after a moment of silence.

“I-I’m afraid not, sweetie,” May replied.

“So…so…I don’t have a mommy and daddy anymore,” Peter said as he pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face as he began to cry. He was alone now. He didn’t have his parents anymore.

May and Ben looked at each other knowing that that wasn’t entirely true. Mary and Richard told them who Peter was biologically related to…Mary’s childhood friend and the billionaire Tony Stark. She told them about how she and the billionaire got drunk and had their one-night stand…after she learned about Richard cheating on her. They managed to put that aside and decided to raise Peter together…after they were told by Tony Stark himself that he didn’t want to be involved. He refused to be a part of his own son’s life to prevent his reputation from being tarnished by the media. As far as Peter knew, Mary and Richard were his parents, and they asked them to never say anything to Peter or anyone about Tony being Peter’s real father. The plan was to wait until he was older, but…now that Mary and Richard were…dead, perhaps, now was the time to tell Peter the truth…about his biological father. They knew it was better to prepare him for it in case Tony decided to take Peter in now and to raise him.

“Umm…sport, listen,” Ben said as he pulled Peter close to his side and hugged him, “there’s something…your aunt and I need to tell you…”

Peter slowly looked up at his uncle with tears running down his face. “What is it?” he asked quietly.

“Uhh…well…uhh…” Ben began.

“Oh my god!” May suddenly said.

Both Ben and Peter looked up at her only to see that she wasn’t looking at them…but the television behind them. Both uncle and nephew turned around, and their eyes were widened by what they saw…

BREAKING NEWS: BILLIONAIRE TONY STARK KIDNAPPED IN AFGHANISTAN

“What?” Ben asked in complete shock as the pictures flashed on the screen showing the sight where Tony was attacked. He couldn’t hear what the reporters were saying because the TV was muted, but it was obvious that Tony Stark himself disappeared in Afghanistan while he was doing business with his weapons. There was no sign of him. “Oh my god…”

“W-Why would someone hurt Tony Stark, Uncle Ben?” Peter asked.

“I-I don’t know, sport,” Ben replied tearing his eyes away from the TV screen to look at Peter.

“W-Will he ever come back?” Peter asked.

“W-Well…we’re…we’re not sure, buddy,” May said gently rubbing Peter’s shoulder.

For the past few years, Peter was starting to take an interest in science and engineering, and of course, that meant he was taking an interest in Tony Stark and his inventions…completely unaware of his heritage. Little did he know that he was watching a news story about his own father being kidnapped.

“But…don’t worry,” Ben said with a smile. “I’m sure they’re working on a way to get him home safe and sound.”

Peter nodded somberly as he leaned into his uncle’s side again feeling the tears well in his eyes again. “I still want Mommy and Daddy,” he said sniffling. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“No, baby,” May said smiling. “You’ll never be alone. We’re here. Your uncle and I are here, and we’ll take great care of you, I promise.”

“That’s right, buddy,” Ben added. “We’re not going anywhere. You’re staying with us…no matter what…just as Mommy and Daddy would’ve wanted.”

(line break)

“You have 1 new message. Message 1.”

BEEP!

“Hello, Mr. Stark, this is Michael Langdon. I am Mary and Richard Parker’s attorney. I’m afraid that they unexpectedly passed on way on the night of February 12, 2008. I…understand your current situation, but…Richard’s brother Ben Parker and his wife informed me that you are their nephew, Peter’s biological father, and naturally given the circumstances, I am obligated to inform you that—”

The message stopped when a certain bearded man pressed a button…deleting it.

“Sorry, my good man,” Obadiah said as he sipped his drank, “but…Tony Stark is as good as dead. He won’t be raising any child of his anytime soon.”

(line break)

August 2008

“Mary never reached out or anything…while I was gone?” Tony asked after a moment.

Pepper could only shake her head. “I’m afraid not, Tony,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

Tony nodded. He had been back from captivity and had been Iron Man for about 8 months now, and in that whole time, all he could think about was whether or not Peter and Mary knew where he was or what he was doing now…as Iron Man. Peter was all he could think about when he was stuck in that cave…with Yinsen, but…ever since he came back…there had been no word from his friend or their son. Apparently, no one reached out to Pepper or Rhodey the whole time Tony was gone, which was odd and…somewhat hurtful as Tony was told that news of his kidnapping was all over the place. Surely, Mary would’ve seen something. When he came back and defeated Obadiah…there was a part of him that hoped that maybe…Mary would reconsider and allow him to be a part of Peter’s life, but…that appeared to be wishful thinking on his part, especially now that Peter’s birthday…his 7th birthday was fast approaching with no word from his mother.

“Do you want me to return Peter’s gift?” Pepper asked. “If you wanted to stop, I’ll understand.”

“No, I’m not doing that.”

“Okay, do you want to maybe try to reach out to Mary? Maybe I can talk to her, and—“

“Pep, come on, if she wanted to reach out, she would’ve done so by now. No, I’m just going to keep sending Peter his gifts on birthdays and Christmas as discussed. Business as usual and all that jazz.”

Pepper smiled. “Okay,” she said. “I think that’s a good plan. Just don’t give up.”

“You know I would never give up on my kid,” Tony replied with a smile.

(line break)

August 10, 2008

This was not what either May and Ben were expecting to see…especially after the fact that their nephew’s biological father was kidnapped in Afghanistan and returned miraculously revealing himself as Iron Man and not even bothering to reach out to them about Mary or even about Peter. He had to have known about Peter losing Mary and Richard in the accident and that he could take Peter in. Michael said that he left a message for the billionaire but never heard back after Tony managed to come back home to the States, which confused May and Ben. Yes, Mary told them that Tony refused to be a part of Peter’s life, but how could anyone hear that their biological child lost his mother and stepfather and still refuse to be there for them? Perhaps, he was still taking a step back because he didn’t want to go against Mary’s wishes, but still…why hadn’t he reached out?

Nevertheless, when Ben came home from the post office, both of them realized that they were caught between a rock and a hard place seeing the package in Ben’s hand.

“You’re kidding me,” May said in shock.

“I wish,” Ben said. “Apparently, Mary had me down as a contact in case she didn’t answer or come for the package.”

“So, what do we do?”

“What do you mean ‘what do we do?’ We have to tell him, May. He has to know the truth. This isn’t from us and it’s certainly not from my brother.”

“How can we possibly tell him that his father essentially wants nothing to do with him?” May asked in a whisper hoping that Peter couldn’t hear them in his room.

“We’ll tell him gently,” Ben whispered. “He has to know the truth. We can’t lie to him forever. I don’t want to tell him. I wish we didn’t have to tell him, but he needs to know the truth. We’ll help him deal with it in any way we can.”

May was about to respond when…a door opened behind her.

“Uncle Ben!” Peter said running over to them and into his uncle’s legs.

“Hey, there’s the birthday boy!” Ben said picking him up and hugging him. “Happy Birthday!”

“Thanks!” Peter replied. “Can we have cake now?”

Both Ben and May laughed. “Baby, we have to have dinner first,” May said shaking her head as she rubbed Peter’s back.

“Is Uncle Ben cooking?” Peter asked. “You make the best macaroni and meatballs.”

Ben couldn’t help but laugh while May dropped her jaw in mock shock. “Well,” he said laughing, “it’s your birthday, buddy. You get to decide.”

“Yay!” Peter cheered excitedly as he scrambled out of his uncle’s arms. “Let’s go eat!” He ran into the kitchen as May and Ben followed from behind leaving the gift on the coffee table in the living room…for now.

They put the gift out of their heads for the moment as they followed Peter into the kitchen. Ben didn’t waste any time in grabbing the proper utensils and the meatballs and the sauce he made the day before out of the fridge to make dinner for Peter…his favorite meal in the world. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to make pasta and meatballs, so they were able to sit down after Ben cooked the meal and ate together. Ever since Mary and Richard suddenly passed away…since Tony Stark was kidnapped on that same night…and since May and Ben took Peter in as his new legal guardians, May and Ben always made sure to share as much time with Peter as they possibly could…so that he would never feel alone. Mary and Richard used to always do that for Peter, and May and Ben wanted to do their very best to make sure Peter had as much as his usual routine as possible to feel grounded. They loved every minute of it, and they knew he loved every minute of it.

Once the delicious meal was finished, they went back into the living room so that Peter could open his presents. While Peter clearly missed being with his parents and getting gifts from them, May and Ben tried their hardest to make sure that Peter knew that he was still loved on his birthday. They got him some toys to help reassure him that he was still loved and that he wasn’t alone, and in a way, maybe that…last gift could do the same.

“Thank you, Aunt May and Uncle Ben,” Peter said. “I loved all these presents!”

“You’re welcome, baby,” May said running a hand through Peter’s hair as they sat on the couch. She looked at Ben, who nodded. “You know…Peter…there’s something we need to tell you.”

“What is it?” Peter asked looking up at May. His face fell a little when he saw the seriousness on their faces. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, not at all, bud,” Ben said quickly wrapping an arm around Peter. “It’s just…someone else…gave you a gift for your birthday, and we…want to explain who it’s from.”

“Oh…” Peter said slightly confused, “so…who’s it from?”

“Well…it’s…uhh…” Ben began as he picked up the cardboard box he brought home and opened it…revealing a gift in blue wrapping paper with a note, “read that note first.”

Peter took the gift out of the box and studied it before reading the note.

“To: Peter

Happy Birthday! I love you so much!

Love, Daddy”

Peter looked up at his aunt and uncle completely confused. “I-I thought you said Mommy and Daddy were in Heaven,” he began. “Y-You said we can’t call people or get things from anyone in Heaven, and why is it only from Daddy?”

“Well, that’s the thing, buddy,” Ben said with a shaky sigh. “Ummm…the daddy you know is in Heaven with Mommy, but…you…also have another daddy…who’s here on Earth.”

Peter widened his eyes. “What?” he asked as his confusion grew tenfold. “Do you remember what Aunt May and I told you?” Ben asked. “How…a mommy and daddy make a baby when God sends them a seed into the mommy’s tummy?”

“Yeah?” Peter said urging his uncle to continue.

“Well, your mommy made you with another man…before Mommy and Daddy got married,” Ben said, “but when Mommy found out you were in her tummy, she asked the man…your real Daddy if he would help her take care of you. And he said no. So, Mommy and Daddy got married anyway and decided that they would take care of you.”

“So…who’s my real daddy?” Peter asked after a moment of silence as he tried as much as his 7-year-old mind would allow him to.

Ben and May looked at each other again before looking at Peter again. Neither of them wanted to have this conversation with their 7-year-old nephew. There was no way he was fully comprehending this now, and they prayed he would understand when he was older and had a better understanding as to where babies came from. However, they knew they had to tell him now because it would surely be worse if Peter found out when he was older and knew that they knew all these years.

“Well…your real daddy is…Tony Stark,” May replied.

Peter’s eyes widened. “Wait…really? Iron Man is my real daddy?!”

Ben couldn’t help but chuckle at Peter’s enthusiasm. “Yes, yes, Tony Stark is your real daddy, and he and your mommy actually used to be really good friends when they were little.”

“That’s so cool!” Peter said excitedly. “She never told me!” However, his face quickly fell when he realized something. “But…wait…why doesn’t he come to see me? Why does he only send me presents?”

“Well, he told Mommy that…he couldn’t see you, buddy,” Ben said. “He…said that he was too busy and that he only had time to send you birthday and Christmas gifts.”

“Oh…” Peter said looking at his present reading the note again, “so…I’ll never get to see him?”

Ben could only shake his head sadly. “I’m afraid not, Peter,” he said.

“But…that doesn’t change how much he loves you,” May said, “and how much we love you, okay? You’re always going to have us no matter what. You’re still our nephew no matter what, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, “and I love you guys too…you guys, Mommy, and both of my daddies. I just wish they were all here too.”

“I know, baby,” May said as they pulled their nephew into a group hug,

“And if you have any questions, you can come to us, okay?” Ben said as they pulled away.

“I do have one now,” he said. “Can we have cake now?”

Ben chuckled. “Why don’t you open your gift first?” he suggested.

Peter nodded blushing that he forgot about the gift from his father…his real father. However, it was quickly forgotten when he ripped the wrapping paper only to see that…

“Oh, cool, it’s a CD Player!” Peter said excitedly. “I can listen to music with this!”

“That’s amazing!” May said excitedly.

“Yeah, we don’t have to listen to Lion King anymore,” Ben muttered under his breath earning a laugh from Ben.

(line break)

“Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday, dear Peter!

Happy Birthday to you!”

“Go ahead, buddy,” Ben said holding up a camera. “Make a wish and blow out the candles.”

Peter smiled and closed his eyes. “I wish my daddy would come to see me real soon,” he thought to himself. Then he opened them…and blew out the candles.

#friendly neighborhood exchange #iron dad and spider son

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kjhmyg · 4 years

Text

rough edges pt. 5 (m)

pairing: jungkook | (f) reader genre: college!au, badboy!jk warnings: mentions of drugs, implied sex, cursing, violence, alcohol, drinking word count: 10K

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / part 5 / 6

author’s note: hello everyone, i know there are lots of things going on in the world right now. i hope that my writing can provide, for those of you who need it, some form of temporary escapism. at the same time i have reblogged posts with info on how you can help if you wish to. anyway, i hope you enjoy this chapter i’m sorry for taking so long heh. love u guys!

Students bustle about the lawn, heading in different directions towards the booths that line the footpath. You’ve spent most of your day manning the track and field booth, handing out flyers to freshmen. Up until ten minutes ago, it wasn’t too bad. But as morning classes end, the area starts to fill up with the second years and above, probably with the excitement of having freshmen around. You try your best not to get pushed around as you scan the area for your boyfriend.

“He’s all the way on the other side.” Sunhee says, having observed you for a while. “You know, where all the other frats are.”

“Oh.” You sigh. “Do you think I could slip away for a while? You have enough people here.”

Sunhee looks around and thinks about it. Along with the two of you, other members are present as well, making sure all areas of the booth are covered. “But I wanna come with.” She pouts, knowing full well she can’t leave the booth, being in charge for today’s event.

“Please?”

“Ugh. Fine. But don’t be long.” She gives in, handing you a stack of flyers. “Pass these out while you’re there.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m coming with!” Hana chimes in, standing from where she was seated on the grass. She grabs you by the wrist and makes a run for it before Sunhee can object and you slow down to a stop when you’re far enough, giggling as you catch your breath.

You scan the area again, keeping a lookout for familiar faces. Hana shakes her head. “You look like a kid about to meet her favourite rockstar at a concert.”

“Shut up. I miss him.” You mutter, shoving flyers carelessly to people as you pass them by.

“You saw each other this morning. And last night.” She adds. You pause and look at her from the corner of your eye. “I heard you.”

“You did?” She waves her hand, dismissing the apology that’s about to come out of your mouth. “I’m so sorry. We’ll keep it down next time.”

“There’s no going back.” She sighs. “You’re whipped.”

“Am not.”

“Right.” She nodded, a smirk on her face.

“Just because I miss him all the time doesn’t mean I’m whipped.” You defend yourself, though you realise how that doesn’t help your case.

“Alright, alright.” She resigns. She takes on a more serious tone right after. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“Sounds serious. What is it?” When you stop in your tracks, she urges you to carry on walking, checking her surroundings before speaking.

“So I’ve been hearing lots of rumours recently...something about a faculty member involved with drugs.”

“What?” You stop again and she pulls you along.

“I’m not sure who started the rumour or how true it is.” She looks at the ground as she speaks. “But I thought you’d wanna know. You know, cause…”

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah.” She gives you a sympathetic smile. “I mean, there’s a chance it could be false.”

“Could be.” You get lost in your thoughts. If the rumour is true, why would Jungkook risk dealing with a staff member?

“Anyway,” Hana flings her arm over your shoulder. “Let’s just find him so you can exchange saliva and then we can get back to the booth before the other members realise we’re gone.” You pinch her side at the subtle remark she thought you would miss.

Soon you reach the area where guys and girls are on separate sides, making the most noise to attract future pledges. You try to ignore the obnoxious yelling, walking past the booths until you find the one with faces you recognise. A big grin appears on your face when you see him.

You squeeze past groups of people in your way to get to him. He stands by his booth with a couple of girls from Eta Iota. They laugh at whatever he says and he revels in the attention he’s getting, as apparent from his big smile and creased eyes. But their conversation is cut short when he looks up and notices you, body suddenly on autopilot as he excuses himself and walks away from the girls, over to you instead.

He engulfs you in a big hug. You ignore looks from the girls as they disperse. “I was just walking around. Thought I would drop by your booth.”

“Huh.” Hana interjects. “She practically begged to be able to leave so she could come see you.”

“Shut up.” She bolts off before you can try and reach for her.

Jungkook lifts your chin towards him and presses his lips onto yours in a slow, gentle kiss. The fabric of his shirt bunches up in your fists. He tastes so sweet. You just can’t get enough of each other. You almost lose yourself in the kiss till the sound of someone clearing their throat brings you back.

“Keep it PG guys, we’re still on campus.” Jimin says, arms folded with a look of disgust on his face.

Jungkook’s lips glisten with saliva and you lick your own lips at the sight of it. So pretty and tempting. But heat creeps up your cheeks when you remember where you’re in the middle of an event with hundreds of students around you.

“Hey Jimin.” You greet him properly when you finally remove yourself from Jungkook. His hand remains on your waist. But Jimin’s eyes are no longer on you. A group of girls huddled around the sorority booth behind you has his attention for now.

“Did you come all the way here just for me?” You turn your attention back to Jungkook. Of course you did and he knows it.

“No.” You avoid his eyes. “I was just walking by and I saw you.”

“What a coincidence then.” He taps the tip of your nose and your lips form a tiny pout.

“Hey,” Hana appears next to you again, holding a little gift bag with a cookie inside and the Eta Iota logo plastered in the middle. “Maybe we should pledge. They seem kinda cool.”

Jungkook snorts, earning questioning looks from the two of you. “What? You guys aren’t really the sorority type.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask.

“Well you know,” he fidgets. “Sororities do a lot socialising. And fun things. Not that you guys aren’t fun or anything. You are⎯ But you’re different⎯ You’re cool⎯”

“Smooth.” Jimin comments. “Anyway, I fully support this. If you join them, we'll get to spend more time together. We’re close with Etas."

"Oh. I'm out then." Hana says with a playful smile and Jungkook notes the way Jimin’s falter.

“In case you change your mind, next week is rush week. So we’ll probably be hosting some parties.” Jimin says. “You guys should come. Get a feel of the greek life.”

Jungkook’s phone vibrates just then and he pulls away from you after checking the screen. “I gotta take this.” He says, walking some steps away.

“Speaking of which, are you guys coming tonight?” Jimin asks, turning your attention back to him.

“For what?”

“Jungkook didn’t tell you?”

You look over at him, back turned to you. “Nope. You guys having a party tonight?”

Jimin calls out to Taehyung. He jogs over from where he’s standing and looks as happy to see you as he always is. “Hello!” He hugs you first and nods towards Hana, then goes back to Jimin’s side. “What’s up?”

“You didn’t invite them for tonight?”

“Oh of course you guys are invited!” He grins. “It’s my birthday party. We’re gonna head to the club that just opened downtown and have some drinks. Join us!”

“Your birthday?” You squint. “Wasn’t your birthday four months ago?”

“Yeah but I didn’t get to celebrate it with you guys.” He shrugs. “Come out and have fun with us okay?”

“Sure.”

Taehyung beams, the excitement on his face apparent. Jungkook comes back shoving his phone away quickly. With a hand on your elbow, he pulls you aside. “I gotta go, I’ll call you later okay?” He pinches your cheek when you frown.

“You’re leaving?”

“There’s something I gotta take care of.” He grabs his bag, stored under the table at their booth. Surely, he isn’t going to work? You think it’s better if you don’t ask. “Love you.” He says, pressing his lips to your forehead before going on his way.

“Where the hell are you going?” Jimin yells, when he realises this.

Jungkook turns, walking backwards with a smile on his face. “Something came up, sorry!” His apology gets lost among the sea of people he disappears into, and you only manage to catch a glimpse of him running across the lawn as he goes. Jimin groans, walking off to complain to the others.

“Is Jungkook coming tonight?” You ask Taehyung, walking back to him.

“Dunno. He knows about it. Not sure if he’d come though.” Taehyung shrugs, then walks back to his booth as he waves to the two of you. “See you later!”

“See you.” You say. Your shoulders slump as you let out a sigh. When you turn to Hana, she gives you a comforting smile and hooks her arm over your shoulder again, offering you her cookie.

𝄖𝄖

You: you coming to celebrate Tae’s birthday tonight?

Jungkook: nah.

You: I’ll be there

You: don’t you wanna see me :(

Jungkook: i’ll pick you up after?

You: [IMG_0394.jpg]

Jungkook: what the fuck

Jungkook: is that what you’re wearing

You: idk how to act in this dress. You better be there to make sure I behave.

Jungkook: are you doing this on purpose

You: yes

You: so i’ll see you there?

Your last message was sent five hours ago. Read, yet not replied. Sitting in the car you’re sharing with Jimin and the others, you check the chat once again just in case. “Bet you two shots of tequila he won’t show up,” Jimin whispers, leaning in close. You narrow your eyes at him. Hana called shotgun and is in the passenger’s seat while Taehyung drives. Unfortunately, you’re stuck at the back, in the middle seat no less because the middle seat makes me dizzy, said Jimin back at the house.

“You trying to get drunk quick huh?”

“No, I’m trying to get you drunk.”

“He’ll be there.” The confidence you attempt to display only has half its effect as Jimin rolls his eyes and looks away.

Your attention turns back to your screen, waiting till the screen goes black. Turning to your left, where Hoseok is, you realise he’s already staring. You only manage a small, pressed smile before looking elsewhere, wondering if he had seen your messages too.

𝄖𝄖

“Has he said anything yet?” Suga asks directly into Jungkook’s ear.

Jungkook maintains his composure. Judging by the smile on Mr. Kim’s face, it’s not so bad. At least he hopes so. “Well, he hasn’t said anything bad.” They exchange glances then turn back to their boss, sitting in the VIP section of the club on the second floor, designed for a little privacy or whatever the booths and translucent curtains can offer.

They stand by the glass barrier which overlooks the dancefloor. It’s a good spot which allows them to keep an eye on the club while staying at a distance. Much less people up here too, which means more room to breathe. Suga rests his hands on the railing, looking down at the mass of people below.

Jungkook taps his side urgently. Kim is getting ready to leave, gathering up his things and shaking the hands of his guests. A couple of ladies show them the way, down the stairs and out the back exit while their boss stays behind. Hands behind his back, he walks towards them with a satisfied smile on his face.

“Pretty good.” He says. Jungkook and Suga nod respectfully.

“The crowd should start to pick up soon.”

“Oh I bet.” Kim chuckles. “If things go well, you can start bringing in the drugs earlier than planned.”

He surveys the area for a while, walking to one end of the parapet and back to them. The wheels in his head seem to be turning but he doesn’t say much. Only a smile, before giving a rough pat on their shoulders. “I’ll be in touch.” His men walk in front as he follows along down the stairs and out the same exit as the others earlier.

“I think that went well.” Suga grins and Jungkook snorts at the glee on his face.

“You really got me all worried when you called.” Jungkook sighs, watching waiters and waitresses clear the empty booth. He joins Suga, resting his forearm on the barrier, eyes roaming the place. “We’re clear now. He probably won’t be back anytime soon. He rarely does spot-checks in person.”

“Didn’t you see the look on his face?” Suga wets his bottom lip. “I think he’s planning something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know but be ready for anything.” His words are unsettling but Jungkook leaves it for now. Suga ruffles the back of Jungkook’s head like he does to a kid. “You can go now. I’ll handle things tonight.”

With a twist of his face Jungkook shakes his head. “I’ll stay for a while.”

From the corner of his eye, Jungkook sees the slight surprise on Suga’s face. Usually, he’d jump at the chance to clock off early. Suga wonders if he’s finally going back to the old him. That is, until something, or someone, catches his eye.

“Oh. I see why you wanna stay.”

“Hm?”

He nods in the direction of the bar. A shimmery sky blue dress catches his eye. One that Jungkook recognises.

𝄖𝄖

“Oh this is nice,” your words insincere, “and loud.”

“It’s a club.” Jimin says, looking at you unbelievably. It’s been a while since you last stepped foot in one. Your hand is in his as he makes sure you don’t get separated from the group. Hana grabs on to your elbow as she follows behind.

Finally reaching the bar, you find an empty spot, pulling Hana along with you. Among the crowd, you spot some people you know and some you don't; all of them friends of Taehyung. He then rushes over and wraps his arms around the three of you. “Just have fun tonight guys! Hoseok’s the designated driver so don’t be shy, drink up!!” He cheers, running back to where his other friends are, already downing some shots.

“What’re you having?” Jimin asks.

“Ooh, I’ll have⎯”

“Not you.” He tilts his head to the side. “You.”

You look behind you. Hana stares back blankly but you notice the tiny smile on her lips. She’s never been one to take interest in men like Jimin. He’s much too loud for her.

“Oh my god.” You laugh. “I’ll stay out of this.” You remove yourself from your spot and switch places with Hana. She gladly entertains Jimin, whispering to you that it’s only for tonight.

You scan the shelves of bottles on display, hundreds of them, not making your choice any easier. You haven’t been to a club in a long time and the only way you would last the night in this atmosphere is if you had some alcohol in you.

Someone slips in next to you, body brushing against yours as they squeeze between others. When a hand appears on your lower back however, you tense up. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” He says. Your grip his arm, wanting to push him away, until you spare him a glance.

Mirroring the silly smile on his face, you shove his hand away anyway. “I’m not alone, I’m with my friends.” You point your thumb in the direction of the others behind you.

“You look awfully lonely standing here while your friends are out there.” He gives you a once-over. “How about I keep you company?”

“No thanks.”

“Wanna go somewhere else? Somewhere with more privacy?”

“I don’t think my boyfriend would like that.”

He looks away to fight a smile forming. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Tempting...” With his back against the bar, he makes room for you between his legs and pulls you in. Your hands rest on his arm while he holds you by the waist. “You do look like the type I’d go for.” He’s distracted by the choice of lip gloss you have on, which seems to have a magnetic effect on his lips.

“Wow, you actually showed up.” Jimin hits his shoulder a little too hard and he glares at Jimin for ruining the moment yet again. “I guess I’ll have those two shots now.” He shrugs.

“As if you weren’t going to have them anyway.” You roll your eyes as you watch him watch the bartender fix them up. He downs them in seconds, wincing as it burns but enjoying it nonetheless.

“If you hadn’t shown up, she would’ve taken the shots.” Jimin lifts the empty glass in his hand as a toast.

“Aw, that would’ve been fun.” Hana snickers. She turns to you. “I haven’t seen you drunk in a while. She’s a real gem when she’s drunk.” She directs the last part to Jungkook.

“Oh I’ve had the pleasure of meeting that special lady.” Jungkook winks.

“Hey, no judging.”

Hana raises her hands in surrender but she’s interrupted by Jimin’s hands snaking around her waist. You watch as they get into a squabble. The others have dispersed, most of them on the dance floor, Taehyung in the middle of it all. Watching him gets you stirred and you drag Jungkook with you through the dancing bodies.

You find a spot in the centre and start swaying your hips against Jungkook. He keeps his hands on you as if to make sure every other person there knows you’re taken. With your back pressed against him, he leans down and captures your lips, tongue fighting for dominance as your hips grind against him. He has half a mind to take you right here in the middle of the floor.

You turn abruptly to face him, disrupting his fantasy. “I know that look.” You say into his ear. “You pervert.” Those sultry eyes of his drops to your chest, openly ogling at your cleavage. Giggling, you push his face to the side and he laughs, kissing you again. You spend close to an hour dancing, or actually, grinding against him.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You say, back at the bar, thirsty from all the dancing. Your hands run up his chest. “I missed you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I’ve spent every day with you in the past week. Every night too.” He winks and you play with his collar. “You still miss me?” You nod and he holds you closer, bringing his lips to your neck where it tickles and your shoulders raise as a reflex.

“Well, look who’s here.”

It’s a voice you recognise. And one you weren’t expecting but also glad to hear. Jungkook lifts his head up from you. Suga nods in your direction, looking at Jungkook for just a second, then back to you.

“Hi.” You say. “You’re here too?” You look at Jungkook but his face is impossible to read. He doesn’t seem surprised nor does he look angry. He must have been with Suga before this.

Suga ignores your question but tells Jungkook he’s needed somewhere. “They’re asking for you.” Is all he says and you feel Jungkook’s chest rise and fall in a sigh under your touch.

“Be right back.” He says to you regretfully, kissing your cheek. Jungkook grabs Suga by the arm as he moves to take the place next to you. They share an awkward look before he says, “Keep an eye on her for me.”

“I’d be happy to.” He smiles playfully.

Jungkook slides between bodies till he disappears in the crowd. With an elbow resting on the bar, there’s a hint of amusement in the way Suga looks at you.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing. I just didn’t think you’d be the clubbing type.”

You’re not offended, but the way he smiles makes you feel like you should be. The judgement that’s apparent on his face challenges you to prove him wrong. Even though of course, he’s right. He calls the bartender over and orders himself a vodka. The bartender’s hands get busy but she keeps her attention on you. “And for the pretty lady?” She asks.

“Oh my bad. Can I get you anything?” Suga asks. “We have iced tea.”

You ignore him and order a shot of tequila, much to his surprise. “Coming right up.” The bartender says, as she fixes up the drink. Suga watches as you down a single shot and immediately orders another.

“Is that all you’re having?” You nod to the vodka in front of him. You’re reaching for some cash in your purse when he stops you.

“It’s on the house.” He says, downing his drink. “And yes, I’m not trying to get drunk tonight. I have work to do.”

“On the house? Work?” Your face scrunches up. “You work here?”

“Work here?” Now he looks confused and slightly offended. “You don’t know? Jungkook and I run this place.”

It hits you like a slap in the face and you wish the alcohol would start to kick in already so you wouldn’t just be staring at him in surprise. “I definitely did not know that.”

“Oh. I’m sure there's a reason he didn’t tell you.”

Though his face remains void of any emotion, you can’t ignore the bitterness in his tone. You hesitate before asking. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

“What makes you say that?” He looks elsewhere, suddenly finding interest in the people on the dance floor.

You think over your choice of words carefully. Getting close to Suga has been your game play from the start. But with Jungkook always keeping you at a distance from him, it set you back. Once Suga trusts you, it’ll only get easier from there. Since Jungkook won’t be letting you into the world of his secret life anytime soon, the only way in is through someone he trusts.

“We could be good friends you know.” You smile.

He waits for you to convince him, a doubtful look on his face. “Really? What could we possibly have in common?”

“Have a drink with me and maybe you’ll find out.”

You hold out a drink in front of him. Your cheerful demeanour makes it hard for him to say no, even though he thinks it might be the alcohol getting to you. Suga lets out an exasperated breath, and takes the glass from you.

𝄖𝄖

Jungkook groans, kicking the door shut behind him. He tosses the book in his hand on the table, knocking over a bunch of stationery. What he thought was going to be a short call, ended up being a trip back down to the HQ just to double check the inventory.

He’s just about to let his butt touch the seat when there’s a knock on the door. “Please don’t come in.” He begs.

It opens and he sighs. The music travels inside now that the door’s open and he massages the front of his head, feeling a headache coming in. “Hey. Someone wants to speak to the manager.” Suga says casually.

“What? Why?” Jungkook shakes his head and turns to face him. “You talk to them then, you’re the manager too.”

“No, she wants the other manager.”

Jungkook frowns. Suga keeps the door open with his foot and reaches over to the side. Jungkook watches as he struggles with the other person. They resist and pull away but Suga easily gains control. Jungkook sighs, preparing himself for what’s to come.

“Stop! I said, I only wanna speak to the other⎯” You stand by the door leaning against Suga while you try to maintain your balance. Your eyes go wide when you see Jungkook and he looks back at you, perplexed.

“The other manager.” Suga finishes your sentence.

“Oh hi.” You fix your hair and dress before making your way towards Jungkook, stumbling a few times until he meets you halfway.

“Um. Hi.” Jungkook says.

“She’s had a few drinks.” Suga informs him.

“A few?!” Jungkook guides you to his desk.

“Don’t look at me. It was her idea.” Yoongi raises his hands in a surrender and slowly backs off, closing the door before he leaves.

“Shh! I have a complaint!” You fail to stand on your own, needing Jungkook’s hands on your arms to keep you upright. He backs up, sitting on the edge of his desk, holding on to you while you rest your entire weight on him.

“Do you now?” He lets you lean on his chest. When you lift your head, he pushes away the stray hair. “What is it?”

“I’m upset! You left me.”

He laughs quietly. “I’m sorry. I had to go check on something.”

“And why didn’t you tell me about this club?” You say in a tiny voice, pouting. “Is it because I’m not cool enough? Cause that’s what the other manager thinks...”

“Suga?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah him.” Your tired eyes focus on something behind him while you mumble, face a little swollen. “We’re friends now, you know?”

“That’s nice. But don’t listen to him okay? You are cool. The coolest girlfriend ever.” Jungkook kisses your forehead and you break into a giddy smile.

“Really?” He nods. “Then why didn’t you tell me about this club?”

“Because I didn’t know what you would think about it. What if you hated it?”

“Jeon Jungkook.” You stand up straight. Or try to, at least, holding on to his arms before your hands cup his face. “I would never. I will always support you. You got that?”

He chuckles, holding you tight against him. “You’re adorable.”

“Also!” You push away. Your eyes roam over his body and you drag your hand down his front. “It’s kinda sexy...you being a manager.”

“There she is.” Jungkook laughs, being reminded of the Valentine’s situation. “I knew you were in there somewhere.”

“She missed you.”

“Aw, I miss her too.” His hand finds the back of your neck to guide your lips onto his. The shaky sigh that comes from you as he grabs a fistful of your hair to tug on makes him smile. You hike your leg up on his thigh, trying to get whatever friction you can get. The tight dress makes it hard for him to slip his hand under, so he grabs your thigh instead, digging into your skin. “This damn dress.” He mutters, lips on yours.

“You don’t like it?” You ask innocently. “Maybe I should take it off⎯”

The door slams open and Suga comes back inside. You separate from Jungkook with a gasp but then groan when you realise it’s only him. It’s like the two of you are invisible as he moves around the table to collect his things from one of the drawers. “What?” He stops when he notices your stares.

“Do you mind?” Jungkook asks.

“Yes actually I do.” His eyebrows raise. “This is a shared table. I don’t want your nasty fluids all over.” He gathers his belongings, and puts on his jacket. Glancing at Jungkook, he nods to the door, “Come on, let’s go. The guys can handle things tonight.”

Jungkook turns to you. “I’ll send you home okay?”

“No! I wanna go with you.” You whine, hanging on to his neck for dear life.

“Y/N,” he tries to reason, prying your hand off him. You don’t budge, only clinging on to him tighter. “Fine but. We’re going to Suga’s apartment. Are you sure you wanna come?”

“Yes.” You say, muffled.

“Okay then. Let’s go tell the others you’ll be with me.”

𝄖𝄖

The unfamiliar setting doesn’t bother you much, thanks to the alcohol. Jungkook comes out of the shower to find you on the floor, between the couch and the coffee table, laughing at something your new best friend is saying. He sighs however, looking at the drink in your hand. He jumps over the back of the couch and picks it out of your hand.

“Hey!” You frown. “Give it back! We’re playing never have I ever.”

“Y/N, he’s not even drinking.” Jungkook speaks to you gently, hooking his hand under your arm to pull you up on the couch. “He’s just messing with you.”

You turn to Suga for confirmation. That’s probably why his glass has been full since the start. “Maybe he just has never ever all the never have I evers.”

“Stop it.” Jungkook holds back a laugh as he warns Suga who’s laughing quietly, finally taking a sip of his drink. He helps you up and you get comfortable next to him on the couch. He had left you with Suga and a glass of water to sober up, but came back to the glass still full and an opened bottle of whiskey on the table.

“You smell nice.” You mumble, rubbing your head against him like a cat. “Gimme kiss.”

He complies, leaning down for chaste kisses that has you breaking into giggles. But it’s not enough. You yank him by the neck and let yourself fall back onto the couch. With a hand on the cushion behind you, he pulls away and the sticky sound of your lips separating makes Suga wince. “What are you doing?” He mutters.

“Kissing.”

“Okay. Can we kiss inside?” Jungkook glances in Suga’s direction and you tilt your head back. His hands slide down your side to your hips, making sure your dress doesn’t ride up any further.

Suga smiles, sipping on his drink. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

You laugh but Jungkook sits back up, pulling you along with him. “I think I need a drink too.” He sighs, reaching for your glass of whiskey still sitting on the table.

“What’s wrong?” You cup his head and speak to him like he’s a child. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s been a long night.”

“Aw.” You embrace him, giving him soft pats. “I’m sorry Kookie.”

“Kookie.” Suga repeats, pressing his lips into a thin smile. Jungkook drops his face into his hand and groans. He can’t even be mad at you, not with how you’re looking at him lovingly with soft, glossy eyes and a tender smile.

“Hey Suga,” you look around the place, suddenly curious as the paint peeling off the walls distracts you. “Why is your place so...ugly.”

“See?” Jungkook snickers, licking his lips after a sip of the whiskey. “I’ve been telling you to at least get the walls fixed or something.”

“Look, why does it matter?” Suga sighs. “I’m only here to sleep, shower and sometimes eat. I’d rather save my money for something else.”

“Are you rich?” You ask, leaning your head against Jungkook’s arm. “Can you buy me a pony?”

Suga furrows his brows then glances at Jungkook. “Why would I buy you a pony?”

“Why not?” You say in a soft voice. “I’ve always wanted one. If you’re a real friend you’d get me a pony…”

Jungkook breaks into a laugh, shaking his head as he squeezes you, kissing the top of your head. “Sorry. She talks a lot when she’s drunk. She’s not normally like this though.”

“It’s cute.” Suga shrugs, looking at you.

“The last time you were drunk you wanted a navel piercing.” Jungkook says to you. “The next day you almost cried when I said I’d bring you to the piercing shop to get one.”

Jungkook sips more of the vodka. You think about what he said for a second. “I know...I actually have been thinking of getting nipple piercings instead.”

Jungkook chokes on his drink, coughing and clearing his throat as Suga whistles at your confession. You look at them confused. “Okay.” Jungkook sets the glass down and stands. “You’re done. It’s time for bed.”

“Bed? Oh, bed.” You wink dramatically, with a light tone to your voice. Suga shakes his head, feeling somewhat endeared by you. You are adorable, he'll give you that. He kinda prefers you drunk than sober though. Before you leave, you turn to him. “You’re not joining us?”

“What?” Jungkook hisses. “Of course he’s not joining us.”

“Are you inviting me for a three⎯”

“You wish.” Jungkook spits out, lifting you over his shoulder. Suga sighs, swinging his legs over the side of the armchair, muttering a soft “kinda do wish though” under his breath.

𝄖𝄖

The bed you’re sleeping on tonight isn’t any bigger than yours, but it is older and squeakier. It’s in a guest room which Jungkook has spent many nights in, although he prefers the couch. After a quick shower, Jungkook lets you wear one of his spare tees for you to go to bed in. The shower seemed to have calmed you down a little, though he can tell you’re still out of it. He lets you snuggle up in his arms.

“You’re cute when you’re drunk,” Jungkook says, patting your head. “But you really shouldn’t drink so much. I just know you’re gonna regret it tomorrow.”

“I just wanted Suga to like me.” You pout. “I thought it would help us bond.”

Jungkook chuckles. “He does like you. I know it.”

“Really?” You blink up at him.

“Yes baby.” Jungkook smiles reassuringly. “You did good.”

You giggle, very obviously proud of yourself. You wish to talk more, but your eyelids feel so heavy. Jungkook notices this and kisses you on the forehead while his hand runs up and down your back.

“You’re not gonna remember any of the shit you said tonight, are you?”

“Probably not.” You hum, “but I remember that I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You giggle and let out a sigh after a while. He thinks you’ve fallen asleep until you speak again. “My boyfriend would be very sad if he knew I said I love you to someone else.”

“He’ll be okay.”

“Will he?” Your voice goes soft. You clutch his shirt a little tighter, burying your face into him. “I hope so…”

Jungkook frowns. He figured you were messing around, but it seems like the alcohol and sleep has you sleep talking. “What do you mean?”

“Lots of trouble...lots..drugs.” Jungkook stiffens, feeling his heart leap in his chest. “...and like...the detective...mess.”

He remains silent for a while. It’s not like he thought you were unaware of it all. But what were you saying about a⎯ “Detective?”

“What detective?” You mumble, slowly drifting away.

Jungkook shakes his head and lets out a breath. “Must be the alcohol. Get some sleep, baby.” Stroking your head, he kisses you goodnight. He tries to sleep himself but he finds it difficult, mind going back to what you said. He reaches under his pillow, careful not to wake you, sleeping on his arm.

Jungkook: i think we have a problem.

𝄖𝄖

“Everything sucks when you have a hangover.” You groan, trying not to drool against the counter. Hana replaces the cold coffee in your cup with a fresh batch. She transfers a blueberry muffin from the glass display onto a plate and slides it over to you.

“Ugh.” You wince, lifting your head off the table from the sound.

“I told you it was a bad idea.” Hana says, wiping the counter. Thankfully, you don’t have a shift today. “Was it worth it though?”

“I think he trusts me now, kinda.” You take a small bite of the muffin. “He said bye to me when we left his apartment this morning.”

Hana gives you a displeased look. “What?”

“The point is that he stayed with me the entire night last night, let me stay over at his place and Jungkook isn’t trying to keep me away from him.”

“Okay so,” she gestures, “now what?”

“Now...we wait.” You take a sip of the coffee in front of you.

Hana eyes you down curiously. She steps away to attend to a customer, giving you some time to think. When she comes back, she leans against the other side of the counter and presses her lips together. “I don’t like that look on your face. You’ve thought of something.”

You check your surroundings. The usual customers are around, scattered across the cafe, absorbed in their own work. You speak softly. “I think I’m gonna try and join his crew.”

“Are you crazy?” Hana snaps at you. She keeps her voice hushed. “Y/N, these are dangerous people.”

“I know but Jungkook will be there to protect me.” You say it, but you don’t even believe it yourself. Sure, Jungkook’s there. And he would protect you, but to what extent can he do that?

“No. You’re not doing this.”

“Okay wait.” You breathe out, rubbing your aching temples. “Okay how about this, I’ll see if they’ll let me work at the club. As a bartender or something.”

“Dude no. You already have a bartending job.” She gestures around her. “Here.”

“Hana you’re making this difficult for me.”

“Me?!” She gasps. “You’re the one joining a syndicate when you’re supposed to be getting your boyfriend out of it.”

“This is how I’ll get him out!”

“How?” She folds her arms. “Tell me. How will joining them help you get Jungkook out?”

“Um…” You bite your lip and answer in a soft voice. “I haven’t thought of that yet.”

She shakes her head. You hate it when she does that. You sit quietly and sulk, a frown apparent on your face. “You’re getting yourself into trouble.”

“We all know Jungkook’s very sensitive when it comes to this. Maybe if I’m part of his circle, he’ll get more comfortable talking to me about it.” You convince yourself as you’re saying it. “And then it’ll be easier to convince him to leave.”

Hana is silent, just watching you. She leans on her forearms against the counter, moving in closer to you. “I don’t know much about these kinds of groups but, I don’t think it’s that easy. You can’t just leave as an when you want to. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

You let her words sink in as she goes back to work. You have nothing to say because she’s probably right, it’s not going to be as easy as you make it out to be. There are many other factors to consider. It’s not a solid plan, but you stand by it, thinking it might be worth a shot once you figure things out. You just don’t know where to start.

An alarm goes off on your phone and your jump in your seat. You’d set one as a reminder to head to the campus library. The sound worsens your already throbbing head while you pack your things and take the last few bites of your muffin. You follow up with the coffee and groan softly, feeling your tummy protest. A small burp follows.

“Excuse me.” You say, glancing at the man standing nearby, waiting for his drink.

He smiles back and the first thing you notice are his dimples. “Hangover?” He asks.

“Yeah. Is it that obvious?”

“Not to be rude but,” he leans in closer to whisper, “you look like crap.” He winks after, so you know he’s kidding.

“You’re lucky I’m not on my shift today, otherwise you’d be getting something else with that coffee.” He raises a brow at your weak attack and you close your eyes, sighing. “Sorry. That was meant to be intimidating but...it sounded better in my head.”

“I get it.” He nods, smiling. “Hangover.”

“Right.” You stand from your seat and sling your backpack over your shoulder. Hana comes over and places the stranger’s coffee on the counter top before turning her attention to you. “I’m gonna go.” You say to her and she nods with a smile before going back to work.

“And I’ll see you around Mr….” You tilt your head slightly, focusing on the name scribbled on his cup. “Namjoon.”

He nods again with an amused smile as he watches you walk swiftly out the door.

𝄖𝄖

You check the time on your phone and slot the book in your hand back in its place. You’ve lost track of time in the Fiction section and Jungkook will be coming to get you in an hour. You speed walk over to the References section and start scanning for a specific book. The lack of sudden, loud noises in the library is pure bliss to you. You had taken an Aspirin a while back, still waiting for its effects to kick in.

“Y/N.”

You gasp a little too loudly and jump at the sudden intrusion of your space. Hoseok holds his hands out before him to show he means no harm. “What are you doing?” You hiss. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He scratches the back of his head. “What a coincidence, running into you here.”

A towel hangs over one shoulder and a duffel bag on the other. He’s dressed in jogger pants and a basketball tee. “Is it a coincidence?” You raise a brow, eyeing his outfit.

“Okay, I kinda just wanted to talk to you about something.” He admits. He recognised you from across the library where he was printing some documents.

“Is it about Jungkook again?” You ask.

“Kinda.” He shrugs. “I don’t know if you’ve heard but⎯”

“Something about a staff member?” You cut him off and watch his face twist.

“You knew?”

“I’ve heard.”

“And you’re not worried? Why would he do something so stupid?”

You tense up over his words and he notices this with the way your body changes. “He’s not stupid. Okay? And it might not even be him. The rumour might not even be true,”

“How would you know?”

“I don’t. And neither do you. We don’t know anything.” You roll your eyes and turn to walk away, having had enough of him. He grabs your wrist to stop you.

“You’re not gonna do anything?” He asks, making you even more annoyed.

“Hoseok, what are you doing about it?”

He watches you silently.

“Exactly. I said I’ll handle it so let me handle it.” You say. “Besides, my plan is working already.” That’s a lie considering you don’t have much of that plan.

“What plan? Getting drunk and flirting with his drug pusher friend?”

Does he mean Suga? You’re livid. Is he actually judging you for what happened the night before? Hoseok senses the change in your demeanour yet again. But it’s too late to take it back. His eyes soften though it doesn’t do much to calm you down. “Are we done here?”

You turn to leave and he calls for you once again. This time you only stand with your back to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m really worried. For Jungkook...for you.”

“Me?” You turn back around. “You don’t have to worry about me. Jungkook would never let anything happen to me.”

The corners of his mouth twitch a little. “Fine. But I haven’t been able to reach my friend. I’m starting to think they got to him. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

“Don’t say that. I’m sure he’s fine.” You say softly, feeling sympathetic towards him. He must be really worried. “Why don’t you call his office or something.”

“I can’t because I’m not supposed to know about this investigation in the first place, remember?” Hoseok sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Look, just be careful okay? And let me know if you need anything.”

You nod. “I gotta go.”

He doesn’t stop you this time and you rush out of there without the book you came here for. You’d come back tomorrow perhaps. Just as you reach the exit, you hear a whisper of your name. Give it up Hoseok! You think to yourself. You pick up speed and consider running off. That is until a hand slaps onto your shoulder and tugs on it.

“Slow down.” Sunhee whispers. She notices the look of trouble on your face. “Calm down. It’s just me. Not Hoseok.”

Of course she would know. “You saw us?”

“Yeah. I saw you, Hoseok, and the tension between you two.” She looks back and Hoseok’s no longer there. “So what was that all about?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug, feigning ignorance. “He’s kinda weird.”

She narrows her eyes at you but doesn’t push you any further. You ask for her company, just in case he comes back, knowing he’d never talk about anything in front of someone else. As you walk around campus, you realise that almost everyone you come across along the way says hi to Sunhee. She really does know a lot of people. It’s no wonder she knows everyone’s business before they even know it themselves.

A guy dressed in a black tee and jeans walks in your direction and you make a bet with yourself that he’d know Sunhee too. He gets closer and you smile to yourself as he nods to Sunhee, greeting her. But then he greets you too. “Hey Sunhee. Y/N.”

“Oh. Hi.” Your reply comes late. It took you a while to register that he had just said your name. But you don’t know him. “Who was that?” You ask Sunhee.

“That guy? That’s Jae.” She says. You turn and watch his back as he walks down the hallway.

“I don’t think I know him.” You try to remember if you may have been introduced to each other before. “How does he know my name?”

“Pretty sure anyone who knows Jungkook would know your name.”

“Oh so he’s friends with Jungkook?”

“You could say that.” She presses her lips together in a thin smile.

“Sunhee…”

You slow down. “Fine. Everyone knows Jae gets his supplies from Jungkook.”

“Oh. It’s that kind of friendship…”

Sunhee leans in close, her wide eyes staring right at yours. “Rumour has it, he saw Jungkook selling some drugs to a faculty member.”

Your heart leaps in your chest at the thought of it being true. It’s one thing for it to be a rumour, but this person has actually seen Jungkook in the act. You grab Sunhee’s arm urgently. “I need to talk to him.”

Before she can utter a reply, you’re bolting off in the direction you came from, towards Jae. He hasn’t gone too far so it didn’t take long to catch up to him. Sunhee trails after you, calling out your name to get you to slow down. You only do so when you close up on him and with all the ruckus, he turns and stops, glancing at you with a confused look on his face.

“What’s going on?” He asks carefully, eyes darting to Sunhee finally reaching your side. She catches her breath and glares at you unbelievably.

“I need to ask you something.” You say gently. “It’s about Jungkook.”

The mention of Jungkook’s name changes the look on his face. His tall, confident posture turns fidgety and anxious. “I don’t really know Jungkook.” He spits out before turning away hurriedly, pulling his cap down to cover his eyes.

You move to stand in front of him. “You get your...prescriptions from him don’t you?” He gulps, looking around. The hallway is empty. But that doesn’t mean no one’s listening. “You’re not in trouble or anything. I just wanted to ask you about the rumour going around. Is it true?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t start it.” He huffs.

“That’s not what I heard.” Your eyes move to Sunhee who stands behind him. He follows your gaze.

Sunhee stares back blankly and shrugs, “What? That’s what I heard.”

Jae closes his eyes in defeat and sighs. “Let’s talk somewhere else.” He says, checking the empty hallway again. Then he leads you both down the hallway. He stops at a staircase just as the hallway ends, extending left and right into another one. As it just so happens, that’s where the staff rooms are. You would expect to more likely be in trouble if any faculty members overheard you, so why would he bring you here.

He climbs up a few steps and takes a seat, resting his arms on his knees. “I didn’t start that rumour.” Is all he says.

“Are you sure?”

“Look, all I said was that I get my supplies from Jungkook.” He starts. “The rumour had already spread by then, about a staff member.” He keeps his voice low and you look around the corner every now and then to make sure no one is coming. “The thing is, it’s not that this guy gets his supply from students. He’s the supplier.”

Sunhee’s jaw drops like you’ve just promised her everything she’s ever wanted. “Are you serious? Oh my god.” She bites her lip and quietens down when you give her a look.

“So where does Jungkook come in?”

“When the word spread about this guy, a few guys who usually deal with me came and asked if this other guy is legit. Of course I told them I don’t know anything about it. I’ve only ever dealt with Jungkook.” He shrugs. “As far as I know, Jungkook’s the only supplier. It’s kinda weird that this guy suddenly pops out of nowhere. And since Jungkook’s been kinda missing in action lately, I guess a lot of his buyers assume he might be the one supplying the new guy to replace him.”

“Jungkook’s been missing in action?”

“Well not completely.” Jae says. He gets up and brushes the back of his jeans. “He’s been kinda slow on the orders. Maybe he’s busy.”

“Right.” You nod, trying to put together everything you just found out.

“Speak of the devil. That’s him right there.” So that’s why he chose to speak to you here. Jae looks over your shoulder, and along the hallway lined with doors that are staff-only accessible, he struts down with a book in his hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“No way.” You whisper to yourself as you watch him. He enters the admin room, tapping a card on a small machine next to the door which unlocks it. You keep your eyes on the door, blinking away, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you. “That’s him?”

“That’s him.” Jae confirms. He slips between the two of you. “I gotta go now. I won’t get in trouble with Jungkook, will I?”

“Of course not.” You reassure him, “I just wanted to know about the rumour and who started it.”

“Cool.” He nods. “You know, I’m loyal too. I never switched over cause I trust him.”

“Good to know.” You say with a hint of amusement in your voice. “I’ll be sure to let him know you’re a big fan.”

He only smiles before walking away, waving to the two of you. Before Sunhee can leave too, you grab on to her arm. “Keep whatever you heard today to yourself.”

A soft whine is her response and she looks at you with puppy-dog eyes, silently pleading. You stand your ground. “Not even one person?”

“Not even one person.” You hold out your pinky in front of her. “Promise.”

“Which part though, the Jungkook part or the new guy or⎯”

“All of it. No one has to know anything.”

“Disagree⎯”

“Sunhee!”

“Alright, alright.” She groans but hooks her pinky around yours and you tighten your grip. “I guess I won’t tell anyone. What’s this all about anyway?”

She raises a brow when you don’t reply. “It’s nothing. I can’t tell you.”

“You’re as mysterious as your boyfriend these days.” Can’t tell if it’s a compliment, seeing as how she’s narrowing her eyes as though she’d be able to read your mind if she tries hard enough. “Probably for the best, you know I can’t keep my mouth shut anyway.”

“If you can keep this quiet, we’ll go for rush parties together.” There’s a sudden sparkle in her eye. Who you go with is crucial in determining what kind of night you’ll have. Being seen entering with the right people, means you’ll probably be making lots of new friends. And being seen with you, a girlfriend of someone in the host house, will lead to lots of new socialising opportunities for Sunhee.

“Deal.” Is all she says, no further bargaining. Her body turns in the direction you were headed earlier before Jae, “You coming?”

“Um.” You look around the quiet hallway. “You know what, I'll just take this exit. Jungkook’s picking me up anyway.”

“Alright. See you next week.” She winks and heads off.

You text Jungkook, to let him know where you’d be waiting for him. While you wait, you scan the long board display between doors. Pictures of staff members everywhere along with their names and designated roles underneath each photo. By the end of the entire row, you hadn’t found him.

Past the glass display, full of trophies and medals from inter-college competitions, you find a board plastered with information on new extracurricular clubs. An acapella group, self-defense classes, poetry⎯ wait, self-defense classes. “Led by special instructor Kim Namjoon...”

You hadn’t realised when he appeared behind you but his low sounding voice makes you jump. “Interested?” He chuckles when you make a squeaking sound. “Sorry didn’t mean to scare you.”

“So you work here.” You say the obvious.

“Yeah.” Now he’s looking at the flyer on the board. “Not to brag but, I designed this myself.”

“It’s cute.” You nod. “Self-defense instructor and a flyer expert. Truly a jack of all trades.”

He laughs then looks down at his feet as his hands sink into his pockets. He wears a brown checkered v-neck vest over a light blue shirt. To think this is the guy everyone’s talking about. The one dealing drugs. “Are you waiting for someone?” He asks, looking around.

“Yes, yeah, I better go wait by the exit, he’ll be here any minute.” You check your phone.

“I’ll walk with you.” He offers. With his arm stretched forward, he gestures for you to walk with him. “Was on my way to get some fresh air anyway. How’s the hangover by the way?”

“Oh much better, thanks.” You’re reminded of the lame attempt at a comeback at the cafe earlier and wince. “So how long have you been working here?”

“Not long.” He faces forward as he walks. “The school only confirmed my classes like a month ago.”

“I see.”

“Will you sign up?”

“Oh I don’t know.” You shake your head and laugh dryly. “I have so much on my plate already.”

“Well if you ever wanna drop by one of the classes, just let me know.”

“That’s nice of you, thank you.” You smile and once again you’re distracted by his dimples. “How’s the response though?”

“It’s great! I might have to split the class into three and have them on different days of the week.”

“Wow, really?” You ask, surprised. “That good huh.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting this either, honestly.”

He shrugs, still wearing that cute smile on his face. You actually wonder if Jae might have gotten it all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t Namjoon. Maybe it was someone else, someone other than this big, huggable guy beside you. “That’s great though, I’m happy for you.”

Late afternoon sun rays kiss your skin as you step out the doors. Down the steps, you see a familiar figure sitting on his bike. As it is, you get a text from Jungkook just then, telling you he’s here. “Is that your friend?”

“Yup. I better go.” You say, one foot already down the step. “I’ll see you around. Maybe I will drop by for one of your classes.”

“Please do.” He grins and looks so painfully handsome. “Oh and, I haven’t gotten your name.”

“Y/N.”

“See you y/n.”

You trot down the steps and towards Jungkook who watches your little exchange. He removes his helmet to give you a kiss before handing over yours. “Who’s that?” He asks as you swing your leg over the pillion seat. You wrap your arms securely around his torso.

“That’s Namjoon. We just met. He’s some self-defense instructor.”

Jungkook watches him not so subtly, hands on the handles but head twisted, burning holes in his direction. Namjoon doesn’t care too much for it. When you turn, he’s waving goodbye cheerfully. You wave back before turning to Jungkook. “What’s the matter? You know him?”

“Nope.”

𝄖𝄖

“So is it true?” A haughty voice fills the room as the door barges open with a kick. Jungkook keeps his back to its owner and continues sipping on his martini. Suga, sitting adjacent to him at the bar, turns in his chair. “Heard there’s a new guy in town. Have you finally lost your touch, Ace?”

Back at the headquarters in the early morning, the bar is empty save for the cleaners, picking up trash and wiping everything down. They had been called in by the lieutenant for a short meeting. Unfortunately, so had the other runners from another district. One who constantly makes it known that he hates them.

“Dude, why’re you so obsessed with him?” Suga asks calmly. They’re so used to Hongjun and his buddies running their mouths by now.

Hongjun scoffs and the two other guys behind him laugh. “Obsessed? You wish.” He sneers. “I’m just concerned.”

“Worry about yourself.” Jungkook spits out without even sparing him a glance.

“Are you kidding me?” Hongjun laughs dryly. “I’m so much better than you. Always have been.”

The stool scrapes against the floor as Jungkook gets to his feet. He steps up to Hongjun, getting all up in his face. “And yet, you’re not the one they call Ace.”

The scowl on Hongjun’s face says it all. His lips tremble with anger and he starts swinging Jungkook’s way. He lands a punch to Jungkook’s side and Jungkook retaliates with an uppercut to his nose. Staggering backwards into his friend, blood starts dripping down his nose. “You idiot! You⎯”

“What the fuck is going on.” Lieutenant Kyun appears, eyes moving from Suga to Jungkook, to Hongjun and his bloody nose, and back at Jungkook. Kyun is always calm. But dangerous. You never know what he’s thinking. “Explain.”

“I was returning the favour.”

“You’ll pay for that!” Hongjun yells again. One of his guys slips behind the bar to get some ice and a towel.

“Shut up.” His deep voice echoes through the empty room. “Stop acting like a bunch of kids. And you, stop whining, it's just a little blood.”

Hongjun sinks into one of the chairs and sulks, holding up the towel-wrapped ice to his nose. Jungkook moves back to his seat, giving Suga a fist bump that doesn’t go unnoticed by the other guys.

“First of all, you three.” He points to Hongjun and his friends. “You have a whole key of crack missing. Your numbers don’t tally, I don’t know how you guys missed this.”

“What no, that’s impossible.” One of them says.

“Either find it, or fix your numbers then.” Kyun says. “You know every little amount is evidence, if it lands in the wrong hands. Boss is not gonna be happy when he hears about this so I’m giving you guys three days to sort it out. Otherwise, it’s out of my hands.”

Jungkook looks in their direction and gives a thumbs up with a smile on his face. The most genuine smile he’s ever given them probably. He gets the finger from all of them.

“And you.” The focus is now on Jungkook. The smile is wiped from his face and he takes on his usual serious look. “What’s with the dip in your sales? You have a forty percent difference from previous months. This is ridiculous, honestly.”

Some faint snickering comes from the other guys. Jungkook stays silent. “Come on, you know he’s being watched.” Suga says in defense. “He’s just trying to be careful.”

“You can be careful and still do your job.”

Jungkook has nothing to say. Besides, he thinks it’ll only make things worse. It’s best to get his ass chewed now and get it over with. Kyun checks his phone and a while later the bouncer steps in through the front door, someone behind him. “Sir, this man says he’s here to see you.”

“Just in time.” He smiles for the first time that night. “Come, join us.”

All eyes are on him as he steps out from behind the shadows and into the light. Suga and Jungkook watch him closely, observing the slick jacket he’s wearing above a tight tee, with tapered pants and his hair slicked back. He looks like another one of those businessmen they deal with. He exchanges handshakes with the lieutenant and the dimple on his face stands out as he smiles.

“Guys, this is our new recruit. RM.” Kyun says. He looks at Suga and Jungkook. “He was dispatched to your district. We wanted to see if he has what it takes. And so far, he’s doing well, for a rookie. You sure you haven’t done this before?”

“No sir.” The new guy says with a smile. He has a deep voice that rivals Kyun’s.

Hongjun is the first to get acquainted with him, offering a handshake with his non-bloody hand. “About time we had some fresh blood. What with how lazy some people are.” He emphasises on the lazy bit, subtly nodding his head in Jungkook’s direction. RM looks at Jungkook who stares back.

“That’s enough.” Kyun says. “Go out back and double check your numbers. Talking about lazy when you lose a whole key...”

When the rest of the men are gone, Kyun turns to Suga and Jungkook. “He’ll be joining you from now on.”

“No offense but,” Suga chuckles. “We’re a duo. We don’t need an extra guy.”

“No offense but you do. He’s the only reason the numbers in your district, which is under your supervision, is still steady.” Kyun says, wiping the smile on Suga’s face. “Before I let you guys off, RM I need a word with you.”

“Sure.”

The two guys watch as he follows Kyun to a corner. They give each other a look of disapproval. Jungkook looks over at RM again, giving him a once over.

“Now listen here,” Kyun says, keeping his voice low. He knows the other two are watching, so he speaks carefully. “I want you to keep an eye on Ace for me.”

“The kid?” RM asks, raising a brow.

“He hasn’t been performing as well as of late. And he’s one of our best.” Kyun fakes a smile, pretending as if he’s saying something nice. “Just make sure there’s nothing we need to be worried about. He’s sharp, so don’t make it obvious. Update me weekly.”

“Done.” RM nods, returning the smile. Kyun gives him another handshake and a pat on the back.

“You okay?” Suga asks Jungkook, patting him reassuringly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about him.”

Suga’s goes on saying some nasty things about RM but Jungkook tunes him out, only nodding as a response. He doesn’t tell Suga that he’s seen the new guy just earlier today. On those steps, with you.

#jungkook fics #networkbangtan #kwritersworldnet #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #rainworks #my fic

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cno-inbminor · 4 years

Text

domus (epilogue)

a/n: alright, we’re trying this ONE more time before i give up for the week. seems like tumblr tags are having an issue! but anyways, some anons in the past asked for a sort of epilogue/bonus scenes so i wrote down a few as a birthday present to you all. thank you for all the love given over these months!! stay safe, healthy, hydrated and rested.

wc: ~2.4k // part of the domus universe

First date:

“Where are you taking me?” You ask with a grin creeping onto your face. Your eyes capture the blur of the buildings, accustomed to the warm hand laying on your thigh. The appendages squeeze your flesh in a teasing manner, causing you to look over at the man behind the steering wheel. There’s a ghost of a smirk gracing his complexion, and you imagine there’s a twinkle in his gaze behind his sunglasses.

“Do I have to remind you about what a ‘surprise’ means?” He replies and you want to smack him across the arm.

“It’s our first official date, and the only clue I have is the 2 bento boxes by my feet. Are we going on a picnic?”

“Not quite. Be patient,” Keiji playfully scolds, causing you to huff and pout for a bit.

You’re still only 70% sure when he shows off his parallel parking skills, turning the wheel with one hand and another on the back of your seat. It’s slightly concerning how much you miss his touch, but perhaps it’s somewhat resolved when he walks around the front to open your door and offer a hand. You place a wrapped bento in his free hand and grab the other one for yourself, letting him drag you for a block or two.

The surroundings become more and more familiar until you finally spot the large characters on the wall of the building. You send Keiji a curious look and he just sends you a soft smile, walking around the border, through some back alleyway that you didn’t realize existed, until you’re within the walls of your high school. The nostalgia crashes over you, almost having you feel out of place for not being in uniform. But minutes later, when Keiji whips a key out of nowhere and unlocks one of the many side entrances, leading you up the stairs, you find yourselves on the roof.

Zephyrs whip around your figures until Keiji tugs on your hand towards the direction of the wall, the slight overhang of the structure providing some shade and recluse from the sun. He sits against the concrete and dutifully unwraps the meal he so nicely made this time, and you can’t help but lean over and peck him on the cheek. It’s full of delight and unbridled affection, so much so that Keiji can’t fight the slight blush rushing to his cheeks.

You hum around the food in satisfaction (because of course, Keiji is also a decent cook, it’s not fair for someone to be so good at so many things!), munching for a few minutes before asking, “Why here of all places?”

Keiji’s eyebrows furrow somewhat before the wrinkles smooth out. “I’d always wanted to have a meal with you out here when we were still in high school – but there was never a good way or time to ask, and I didn’t want to weird you out.”

“I would’ve said yes, you know?”

“Now I do,” he chuckles. “Eat up, you’ve had a long week.”

Keiji takes you on a mini-tour of sorts, pointing out the classroom he was in and where he sat. He still remembered where Konoha’s desk was, and though Bokuto wasn’t in the same year, he could still tell you which seat was the ace’s. The two of you exchange more stories about your years here, calmly walking down the stairs until he takes you to the gym. The squeaking of sneakers and yells of teenage boys become louder and louder, but before Keiji can push back the flap of the door screen, you tug on his hand.

“Are we allowed? I feel like we’re intruding.”

“Coach knows I’m here – how else did you think I got a key?”

He brings you in before you can protest again, making sure to stay out of sight until there’s a quick water break. Only then does Keiji make his presence known, politely greeting his old coach and exchanging laughs and smiles. He makes sure to introduce you and you quickly bow, unable to contain the smile when Keiji regards you as his girlfriend. The coach makes some small indication that you seemed familiar, and then introducing Keiji to the team. Some of their eyes light up when they hear about him being the setter during the reign of Bokuto Kotarou. It’s endearing, watching your boyfriend meld back into an element of the past that he so fondly misses.

About ten minutes later, the two of you wave goodbye and leave the premises, but not before Keiji makes a cheeky suggestion to go back to his former senior classroom and make out on his old desk. You ignore the flare that ignites in your gut and attempt to hide your fluster with a roll of your eyes. Instead, he pulls you into a secluded corner and crowds over your, leaving you nowhere to run.

But when his lips meet yours and his hands grasp your waist, you can’t imagine having it any other way for a first date.

First night sleeping in bed together

It’s a bit of an accident, if you’re honest. Usually, you’re always able to make it back to your own apartment. But then after the movie was finished and you were two wine glasses in, the alcohol in combination with the shit Friday at work depleted you of all energy. Keiji, ever the doting boyfriend, picked up on your lethargy pretty quickly. He stands from the couch and merely smiles when you whine at the loss of body heat, and with little trouble, carries you bridal style to his bedroom.

“I can take the futon, mmk? He whispers as he makes room for your body, setting you down gently on his mattress. Memories stir of your impromptu visit two years ago as he tucks you in. Despite your best efforts, a wide yawn creeps past your lips as you snuggle into his pillow, letting his scent wash over you.

“Sleep with me,” you murmur, patting the empty space next to you. Keiji can’t help the flutter of his heartbeat at your invitation.

“Are you sure?”

“You’re being silly. We’re dating now, the futon is a no-no,” you sleepily chide. Keiji looks down at himself to make sure he’s wearing clothes that’s comfortable enough to sleep in, then at you for confirmation again. When you’re still wiggling your fingers on his grey sheets, he succumbs to his desires and slides underneath the layers.

Keiji lays on his side facing you, struggling to hear anything over the pounding in his ribcage. You have a hand bent up near your face and the other in front of your chest, quiet breaths leaving your body. He mimics your posture and returns the small grin you give him, brushing away the strands that look slightly displaced.

The calmness that eases into his chest is a feeling he’ll never get tired of. It’s exactly what he’s dreamed of experiencing for the last few years, the serenity in falling asleep next to the person you love. He feels incredibly lucky to be here, in this time, with you of all people. In fact, he hadn’t felt that tired earlier, but exhaustion was quickly approaching him. Before Keiji can fully pass out, he makes sure to intertwine his fingers with your free, upturned ones, squeezing slightly as a gesture of affection.

And when you tighten yours in reply, Keiji closes his eyes in peace.

When Keiji confesses just how long he’s been in love with you

Your first year dating with Keiji simply flies by, and it feels like time won’t slow down soon. Initially he wanted to take you to some fancy sushi restaurant for your anniversary, but when you showed up at his apartment the night before listing all the ways your interim manager was being completely asinine, he figured you just needed something a little more comfortable and calming the next day. So he settles for taking you to your favorite ramen restaurant, the same one he ordered from for you three years ago. It’s small yet intimate – after all, you’re more than wise to understand the significance of this establishment and what it means for the two of you.

You’re quiet on the way home, a little too quiet if Keiji is being honest. Even though you’re just looking ahead of you, there’s a faraway, pensive curtain over your gaze. You’re not holding his hand as tightly as you usually do, and Keiji’s worried that he did something wrong. Maybe he was supposed to take you somewhere nicer, pamper you like the royalty you are, buy roses, gift some jewelry—

“Do you want some ice cream, Keiji?” You ask, ripping him from his mental spiral and pointing a thumb at an ice cream stand.

“Sure,” he nods, and to his dismay, when he fishes out the correct bills, you’ve already ordered and paid.

“Don’t give me that look,” you gently scold after thanking the worker and handing him his cup. “You paid for dinner.”

“It’s our anniversary, I should be paying for everything.”

“Not because you want to?”

“I want to as well, but—”

“And I wanted to pay for the ice cream, Keiji,” you chuckle, proving your point. “I appreciate the gesture though. Come on, there’s a park over there. Let’s go sit at the bench.”

It’s easy to fall into the small talk again, though you seem to think about your answers more. There’s a weight to your words, a carefulness that seems foreign to how candid you usually are with him. The worry returns and sneaks through his veins – he wants nothing more than to just blurt it out, but that’s pushing you and he shouldn’t do that—

“Keiji, you’ll be honest with me, right? You’ll tell me the truth no matter what?” You inquire abruptly, voice timid and hesitant.

Keiji shifts his body to face you better, ready to give you his full attention. Your questions alarm him a little though. “Of course.”

“Okay,” you say, chewing your bottom lip. “Are…areyoutiredofmeyet?”

As soon as the words are rushed out, you’re looking at anything but him. It’s impossible to hide from his stare of disbelief. Things just have been going so well, you couldn’t help the insecurity that was becoming known again. Yes, you’ve healed from the events of breaking up with Kuroo – but that didn’t mean there was a big, glaring scar across the heart on your sleeve. In times like these, it sucked the light out of you and you just needed some validation.

“Look at me,” he gently prods. You’re defiant, shaking your head. But as you always do, you surrender to his touch, succumbing to the pressure that of his hand against your cheek. It’s soft in its cradle, his thumb tenderly caressing over your cheekbone.

“What makes you think that I’m getting tired of you?”

When you show signs of defiance, Keiji leans in closer until his forehead rests against yours, but remains quiet. He wants to give you time, but also let you know that an answer is imperative.

“It’s…nothing specific, really. Just some lingering fear,” you mutter and wring your hands. “It’s happened before, so I guess I wanna make sure that I don’t mess up again or something.”

He shakes his head, mentally listing all the ways he can make you feel more secure in this relationship as time goes on. Keiji figured this was going to happen at some point, but he’d rather it didn’t. The last thing he wanted you to ever think was that he didn’t love you enough – even after all these years, he only feels that his love has reached immeasurable amounts, and it still continues to grow every day.

“I’ve loved you all these years, and I feel like that at the end, we still haven’t spent enough time together. I don’t think you realize how much I want eternity with you,” he whispers, fingers moving to brush your hair away. “You’re everything I want, and I can’t imagine this with anyone else.”

A watery chuckle leaves you. “You’ve really picked up some flowery language from work, haven’t you?”

“The shoujo manga department is just down the hall, I guess I’m bound to pick up something,” he jokes back. “Doesn’t detract from the fact that I mean every word though.”

“…I’m gonna seek validation, alright? It’s inevitable.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m gonna ask you things like, ‘Do you love me?’ or ‘Are you bored of me?’, and I’ll just need a yes or no most times.”

“Well, I’m hoping that I’ll be good enough so that you won’t even have to ask. But okay, I can do that.”

You surge forward and wrap him in your arms. “Thank you, Keiji.”

“Of course. You ready to head back?”

You let him drag you up by the hand, nodding in affirmation. Things are comfortably serene for the first few minutes – Keiji notices that your eyes seem more alive and brighter, a definite contrast to what they were before. But you’re gnawing on your bottom lip again, what’s on your mind now?

“So…um, what was that thing about loving me for years?” Math might’ve not been your strong suit, but you’ve only been together for a year and years is clearly plural…

“Ah, I guess I can’t hide it anymore,” Keiji sighs, though it’s more lighthearted than anything. “I started liking you my first year of high school, and then realized I might love you sometime during my third year. Hasn’t changed since.”

“…so even in the years when I was dating Tetsurou?”

His smile morphs into something gentler and more bittersweet. “More subdued since I accepted we might never be anything more than friends, but then everything happened and you unexpectedly called me to ask if I had dinner yet…I didn’t want to sway you in your decision, but I just wanted to show how much I’ve treasured you all this time, nothing more.”

“Sorry for making you wait,” you apologize with a pout and a squeeze of his hand.

“You don’t need to apologize – I consider it more to be lucky than anything. Incredibly, ridiculously, unnervingly lucky.”

“Well, I hope we have more lucky years ahead of us.”

#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #akaashi fluff #haikyuu fluff #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #hq #edit: OH FINALLY tags

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chibinekochan · 3 years

Text

Winter solstice - Obey me! Au Ft. Levi

A special gift for Dani for the Obey me Secret Santa exchange.

I hope you enjoy your holidays and a happy late birthday to you.

This Au includes a bit of angst and a creature of darkness.

TW: Injury, no mention of blood but it hurts.

Pairing includes fem.Reader/Leviathan.

The Reader will be called Dani.

Words 6.7k

It's too long so I will add a read more link.

__________________________

A snowy winter day.

It's frosty and you wrap your coat tightly around your body.

Your breath is visible in the wintry air.

You pull up your scarf and make your way into the forest that stretches out in front of you.

Many rumors surround the pine forest. Legends of monsters and lost souls that wander the woods.

You don't allow this to deter you. Bravely, you ignore the sign with the ominous 'Stay out' sprayed over the name of the forest. You can barely read the name 'Pine Timberland'. Not the most subtle of names.

You reach the trail that snakes its way deep into the woods. This sort of path is usually used to transport wood to the town. This will at least make your way a bit easier.

You step on the path with mixed feelings.

Reminding yourself of your mission: Find the treasure and get out of here.

The treasure is a necklace, lost in the woods a month ago.

You thought that it was lost forever, but just the other day a woodworker, and close family friend, saw it hanging on a tree. It was on an edge and hard to reach, the workers had to return home before dark, and the necklace was left behind.

You know that it won't be easy, but you are prepared. Your backpack is filled with supplies.

You proceed to follow the path into the deep forest. It's pretty dark. You can see why everyone thinks this place is scary. Even when you are always drawn to it.

The path leads deeper and deeper inside the cold and quiet forest. During the summer this place is almost dreamlike. The snow doesn't change that impression. Still, there's something unsettling about the deep pine woods.

Maybe it's the rumors or maybe it's the uneasy feeling that someone is observing you.

Despite your growing uneasiness you keep walking deeper into the forest. There is not a soul in sight and slowly the cold starts to sting your face and creeps into your clothes.

Goosebumps form on your skin.

Finally, you can see the path that will lead to the cliff. You double-check your map. Yes, this is the right way.

With a beating heart, you make your way up the path. The path is steep. Your breath grows heavier, creating puffs of breath in the wintry air.

You have to hurry or else night will fall soon. This deep in the forest and on the narrow path you have to rely on your flashlight. There is no time to waste. Especially now where exhaustion is setting in.

Determined, you hasten your step. The path is getting harder and harder to tell apart from the snow. This path must be rarely used. You almost stumble over a root. You continue with great care. This slows you down even more.

Your boots dig deep into the snow with each step becoming increasingly difficult. Thoughts of giving up enter your mind. It's dangerous to stay in the forest after dark.

Just when you are about to turn around you, notice something shiny in the trees.

Your eyes light up. That must be it!

You light up the tree with the flashlight.

Something up in the tree reflects the light. It's impossible to tell what exactly it is from down here.

Carefully you step closer, mindful of the steep decline near your position. You take the flashlight between your teeth and stretch out to reach the small object.

Almost there, just a little more, you are on your tiptoes.

Suddenly you hear a rustling noise in the bushes. Your body jerks around in a reflex.

Out of nowhere, your foot gets tangled into something. Before you can do anything, your world starts to turn upside down and you can't manage to get a hold of anything.

With panic, you realize that you are falling down the cliff. You scream in terror but can't manage to stop yourself from falling.

Finally, your body stops, your fall caught by a small bush.

You wince in pain and try to move. Nothing seems to be broken. Thank you, lucky star.

“Hey, are you okay?” You hear a panicked voice.

“Nothing seems broken.” You are a bit taken aback by the sudden appearance of a stranger. From the voice, you can tell it's a young male.

“That's a relief. I just heard someone screaming, and I was like: oh, no, what am I supposed to do? And I just kinda came here. I mean it would've been very awkward if you were a yeti just in the middle of something you know.” The young man just seems to ramble on.

You are pretty thrilled to meet someone out here. “Would you mind helping me up?”

“Oh... umm sure. I guess that's fine. Since you are injured and all…” He seems very awkward but comes closer.

The flashlight illuminates his features. Blue hair that almost covers his golden eyes. He has a rather slender build, and his complexion seems pale.

His gloved hand reaches out to you. He is shaking. Maybe he is just cold? Well, you are cold, miserable and honestly, your body hurts almost everywhere. Without much further thought, you grab his hand.

With surprising ease, he pulls you up and you manage to stand. Even when you're a bit wobbly. “Thank you, Levi. You are pretty strong.”

“I know it's a huge surprise that everyone is always like; look there is Levi, he is so weak and pathetic, what a loser.” He sighs, seemingly defeated.

“You seem pretty kind, helping a complete stranger. By the way, my name is Dani.” You smile at him, and now that you see him from up close, he looks pretty adorable.

“Me nice? That's the first time someone said that to me... I'm Leviathan, everyone just calls me Levi... Well, there are not many people that call me anything. Anyway, did you break something?” Levi seems a bit down again, but he is more worried about you.

You move a bit. It hurts, but you seem to be able to move just fine. “It hurts everywhere. I'm sure I've got snow in my clothes, but I think I can walk.”

“Hmm, you fell pretty far. You are only human and the walk back is pretty far. What were you actually even doing up there anyway? Don't you know it's dangerous in the woods?” Levi can't stop himself from a small lecture.

“I lost my necklace, and it seems to be up a tree on the edge of the cliff there.” You drop your head and point to the cliff.

“Oh, I see that must be pretty important to you... Well, no way are you finding it now in this condition. What am I supposed to do now? You are a normie lost in the woods and hurt on top of that.” Levi seems to be pondering this over with himself.

“Normie? I don't know what you mean by that, and if you could just help me to get back to the trail that would be great.” At this point, you just want to get home.

“I hate to break it to you, but the trail is a few miles from here and you are injured.” Levi is pretty pessimistic about your chances.

You feel dejected. “What am I supposed to do then Levi?” You look at Levi with slight puppy eyes.

Levi looks away, he looks very troubled and you can see that he blushes slightly. “Ugh... You really know how to land a critical hit.” He looks at you; he seems unsure of what to do.

His reaction tells you that he wants to help you but just needs a little push. “Please Levi. I require your help.”

Levi wildly gestures with his arms. “Alright, alright. My Hp hit 0. You got me. I live in the forest with my brothers. Luckily for me, they are all busy over the holidays and I'm house-sitting. It's not like I had other plans or that anyone would invite me for the holidays.” Levi seems pretty troubled, despite his words.

“That sounds very sad.” You feel bad for Levi.

“I'm quite alright all by myself. I have just picked my new special edition of 'Celebrate with Ruri-chan'. I plan to watch it at least 200 times and then I have all these holiday events in my games. I'm very busy.” Levi seems slightly offended.

“Celebrate with Ruri-chan'? Wow, that's already out? I thought it would come tomorrow.” You are slightly aware of the popular series.

“YOU KNOW RURI-CHAN?! OMG, an otaku in the wild??? Wow, I can't even...just give me a second. I need to get my soul back into my body.” Levi takes a deep breath.“Alright, so what's your favorite episode of The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl? Who is your 2nd favorite next to Ruri-chan? You know, for me it's impossible to decide. Like the first episode alone, it set so much up and the season finale was just like, wow. Then when we learn all about Azuki-tan and the lost half. I cried so much. Aaah, it's impossible to choose.” Levi is suddenly extremely excited.

You feel very happy to see this new side of him. He is a very passionate person.

However, you have to interrupt him, since the snow in your clothes is melting and you are shivering. “I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I really need to start moving. I'm quite cold.”

“Oh, yeah right, sorry. I got distracted. I was just about to say that I will bring you to my home.” Levi feels a bit guilty, especially since he can tell that you are miserable.

“Will that be alright?” You have just learned that he is all alone in his home and you are a stranger.

“I know I'm not the greatest company, being a loser Otaku shut in and all but you have to make do. At least until I can get you back out of the forest.” Levi is pretty down again.

“That's not what I suggested. You seem pretty nice to be honest. I mean, if it won't be a bother to you.” You feel like saying something nice about him.

“Ah no, you seem pretty nice, too. For a normie, you know. I mean we can even watch 'Celebrate with Ruri-chan' together while you dry off. This seems like a great idea actually. I mean, I don't care either way, of course.” Levi seems to like the idea but does a 180 turn for some reason.

“Sounds like a plan.” You support the idea.

“Alright, let's go then. Oh, hold on a second. Can you walk without pain?” Levi pumps his fist and then remembers your injuries.

You carefully take a few steps. It hurts. Levi seems pretty weak, so you doubt that he will be able to carry you. “I think I will be fine with a bit of support.”

"You just thought that I was too weak to carry you didn't you?" Levi sighs and looks genuinely distraught.

You feel a tinge of guilt in your chest. “Sorry Levi.”

He shakes his head. “Honestly it doesn't surprise me at all. I mean, I know I'm weak and pathetic. Of course, you would feel like you can't depend on me. You aren't even wrong, you know. I will probably collapse halfway through and then you will have to carry me.”

After saying that he turns his back to you and crouches down to the ground. “Well at any rate, just come and hop on Dani.”

You can't see his face, but his action touches your heart. You decide to trust him. “Alright, thank you so much, Levi.”

Carefully you climb onto his back and hold onto him. With a deep breath, Levi stands up. He wobbles a bit but manages to stand up without massive issues.

“Well, let's get going then.” Levi huffs and starts walking.

“I hope I'm not too heavy for you.” You feel like Levi is suffering a lot right now.

“No, you are not. You are light as a feather. I'm just very weak. My brothers will definitely make fun of me when they hear about this." Levi huffs with each step and seems dejected.

“I think you are pretty cool. I mean you are carrying me on your back to your home. If I meet your brothers, I will tell them that you are super cool.” You tell him your honest opinion.

“R-really?! Y-you t-think t-that I'm cool? Nobody ever said that about me.” Levi is very surprised and starts to stumble over his words. He seems very confused.

“Not everyone would save a random stranger in the woods after all. You are a hero.” You find his reaction pretty cute and want to see some more of that.

Levi stops moving for a moment. “I sure hope you're not joking, because you really know how to hit my weak points.” He mumbles this, but you can still hear him well enough since you are this close to him.

“I'm serious.” You want him to know and cling just a bit tighter to him.

Levi seems suddenly oddly quiet, you think he must be exhausted from carrying you. What you don't realize is that Levi is blushing and has lost the power to speak due to embarrassment. This is certainly a first for Levi.

Soon you see a light shining in the forest. Slowly you can make out an old mansion. Was there such a building in the forest? You certainly didn't know that.

Levi breathes very heavily by the time you two arrive at the gate. The mansion looks very old, but there seems no road leading up to it. This is very odd to you.

Levi stops and lets you off his back. Just when you want to thank him once again, he lands face first in the snow.

“Wow! Are you alright?” You are very surprised.

Levi slightly lifts his head. His breath is labored. “Yeah...umm well, not really I'm probably going to die to be honest, but I got some phoenix feathers somewhere in my pocket.”

“Nice reference but do you need help?” You are concerned but can't help but smile at the casual mention.

“You got that reference? Dani, you truly are player two material.” Levi chuckles lightly. "Um, what I mean is that I will be fine. Just let me catch my breath for a sec here.” He seems embarrassed again.

“Okay, if you say so.” You smile lightly and pretend that you don't look at him laying flat in the snow like a pancake.

After a bit, Levi slowly gets up and frees himself of the snow. “Sorry about that. So much for my hero status. Let's get inside and warm up before I embarrass myself even further.” Levi is slightly depressed.

So you decide to cheer him up a little. “Even heroes need to respawn sometimes.” You offer him a smile when he looks at you, seemingly surprised, and then he turns flushed.

He fumbles with his key, unsure of what to say. “Saying things like that so casually... You should be careful or else I will think that you like me or something.” Levi speaks very quietly, it seems like he doesn't want you to overhear him.

“I like you.” You don't miss a beat.

With an amazed expression, Levi turns to you. “Are you serious? I mean, it would be very mean to joke like that.” Levi has this troubled expression again. “Wait, don't reply to that question. I don't think I'm ready to hear the answer right now. My hp is too low as it is. Let's just head inside and warm up.” Levi sighs again.

You recall him laying in the snow just moments ago and don't want to repeat that. So you keep quiet, for now.

Levi unlocks the door and you step inside.

You were not sure what to expect, but the mansion looks better than you imagined.

It's old but in excellent shape. Everyone that lives here must take great care of it.

Levi closes the door behind you. You can feel the warmth of the place slowly seeping into your body.

“You can just leave your boots and coat here, I will let you use my bathroom so you can dry off. I mean Asmo has a nicer bath, but he would kill me if I use it. I mean he would be okay with someone cute as you use it. Not that he is here regardless, but well better not take any risks.” Levi starts to ramble on.

“Asmo? Is he one of your brothers?” You are curious.

“Yeah, I got six of them. They are honestly a lot to handle.” Levi shakes his head.

“It must be lively when everyone is at home.” You can't even imagine that.

“Lively is an understatement. They are exhausting, to say the least.” Levi vaguely gestures with his hands. “Enough about them. Let's go to my room and just so you know I have a lot of valuable collectibles in my room. So please be careful alright?” Levi seems concerned.

“Don't worry, I will be extra careful.” You give him an encouraging smile. Then you undress your boots and coat.

That seems to be enough for Levi, and he starts to lead you to his room.

You are extremely curious about it, you have some ideas about what he has in his room. Nothing could prepare you for the truth.

Levi opens the door and for a moment the view freezes you on the spot. The first thing you see is a huge aquarium on the backside of the room. Then you spot shelves filled with all sorts of merchandise. Finally, your eyes are glued to a bathtub in the middle of the room.

This is the strangest thing that you have ever seen.

For a moment you think that Levi expects you to bathe in there, but you fail to see any faucets.

Confused, you look at Levi.

He looks very sad. “I know my room is a huge disappointment and if you could run you would. I honestly should've cleaned up. I mean, nobody ever visits me, but I know it's a lame excuse.” Levi seems very disappointed with himself.

“Your room is unique, but it seems to be very you. I was just wondering about the bathtub.” You had barely noticed the mess everywhere.

“Oh, that is just for me to lay in. Don't worry, I have a working bathroom over there.” Levi gestures towards a door in his room.

Somehow this provides you immense relief, even when it's odd for anyone to sleep in a bathtub, but you aren't here to judge.

“The bathroom is clean by the way. I will go and get you fresh towels, and you will need some clothes… I will lend you something from my collection of anime clothes. Fortunately, I have plenty of doubles, and got some stuff that will fit you. Unless you hate wearing that kind of stuff?” Levi seems anxious.

“Sounds great to me.” Right now you would wear anything and anime clothes sound pretty good to you.

“Alright.” Levi then goes and starts to rummage in an enormous box.

You take this chance and look around the room. You notice his massive collection of games. He really has them all, it seems. Most of them look like RPGs and visual novels. You have played some of these yourself. Levi even owns the new DevilCart. You haven't seen this one in the wild yet. “Oh, you have DevilCart? That's so awesome, I love that series.”

You can hear a surprised noise from Levi. “We can play it if you want to. I usually just play alone, but I'm extremely good at it so don't cry if I beat you.” Levi seems to have a combative side to him as well.

“Sounds like a plan to me, but just that you know I'm essentially the unbeaten DevilCart in my home.” You won't back down from this challenge and give him a teasing smile.

“A challenger has appeared! I'm looking forward to that.” Levi responds very cheerfully. Then he stops with his search. “Ah, here that will be perfect.” He holds up a complete set of cute clothes, a t-shirt, sweats, and a hoodie, all with a Ruri-chan pattern.

“Wow, this is incredible. So cute, I didn't even know this existed.” You are very happy with his choice.

“I'm so glad you like it. Honestly, it's the best outfit I own but it's way too cute for someone like me to wear. It will suit you perfectly.” Levi seems relieved.

You take it with a smile. “That's very sweet of you, Levi.”

Levi looks away, hands in front of his face, probably to hide his red face. “N-no problem. Oh, that reminds me. I got this Potion from Satan. He said it would help me in case I injure myself.”

“Satan?” You are surprised to hear that name.

“That's one of my brothers.” Levi seems to believe this will ease your confusion.

“Your brother is named Satan?” You are very puzzled about this.

“I get the confusion. Our parents were trying to be different or something. We are all named after demons. My oldest brother is called Lucifer. Like come on, we were kinda set up to fail or at least to raise some eyebrows. It's no wonder that Satan became a warlock.” Levi shakes his head and shrugs.

“That is a lot of information right here. I don't even know where to start.” Your confusion is just growing.

“I know what you mean. It's best to just accept it and move on. Well, anyway Satan's potions are very effective. So you should feel much better after taking it.” Levi is used to the confusion, and you decide not to ask anything further.

Levi then presents a bottle of blue liquid to you.

“Are you sure that I can have this?” You look a bit unsure about the bottle.

“I might be weak but I will likely survive.” Levi pouts lightly.

Seeing this, you take the bottle. “Thank you, Levi.”

“No problem. It's a bit bitter by the way. Here some candy.” Levi gives you a small candy wrapped in colorful paper. It must be from an anime. Everything he owns seems to be related to anime or games. He undoubtedly is a full-fledged Otaku.

You empty the potion while holding your breath. It's not as bitter as you feared and it makes you feel all warm, so it's not that bad. You still eat the sweet candy.

“Now you can take your bath or shower. The key is inside so you can feel all safe.” Levi seems happy that you drank the potion.

You nod and take the towel and clothes from Levi. Then you head into his bathroom and decide to shower. It feels very good, and your body is back to normal temperature after you are done. Your sore body feels much better too, you can't find any injuries anywhere.

Your ankle is also completely fine again.

You dress and head back to Levi's room. It seems like Levi has used this opportunity to clean his room.

“Feeling better?” Levi had gotten semi-comfortable on a bean bag.

“I feel like reborn, I need to thank your brother for the potion. I'm completely healed.” You give Levi a big smile.

“I will tell him that.” Levi is a bit awkward for a moment.

“Have you taken your shower?” It certainly looks like Levi hasn't showered yet.

“I wanted to but then I thought that you would wonder if I had abandoned you when I was not here when you are done.” Levi has thought about this a lot.

You think it's very sweet of him. “Wow, thank you, Levi.”

Levi blushes. “No problem. You can play DevilCart until I'm done. I'm already used to the controls. So you can practice a bit.” Levi conceals his face again while he talks.

“Alright but don't cry when I squash you.” You grin at Levi.

“Oho, the game is on! Well after my shower I mean. I will be fast.” Levi instantly lights up.

It's fun to see this side of him.

True to his word, Levi is fast back. It seems like he rushed, his hair is a bit shaggy now. You don't mention it.

Levi sits down near you. You have used the chance to get used to the game. Levi watches you while you complete your match. “You are pretty good, not as good as I am of course.” Levi seems pretty confident about his skills.

“I'm just getting started. You have seen nothing yet.” You feel pretty confident in yourself.

“Actually I was wondering why you were looking for a necklace in the forest.You should know how dangerous it is.” It seems like this still bugs Levi.

“You are right but last month I was devastated when I lost it. I thought it was gone forever. I searched for it so much, but I had given up. Then I was told it's on a tree. I don't know how it got there, but I had to try to get it.” You feel depressed by your failure.

“That must be significant to you. I'm certain you will find it.” Levi seems to be very sure about this.

“I hope so too, but now we should race.” You know there is no chance to find it now. It's getting dark after all.

Levi agrees, and so the play session starts.

Levi is very different when he is in his gamer mode. He is very lively and confident.

This side of him is genuinely attractive to you as well.

Levi is a good sport, he is frustrated when he loses but also very impressed at the same time. He fully enjoys his time that much is certain.

“You must be hungry. Fortunately, for us the fridge is filled. I can prepare us some sandwiches for now. So we can refill our batteries. I don't know about you, but I plan to play all night. I mean when else am I getting the chance to play with someone else?” Levi is absolutely serious.

“Sounds like a plan. I honestly can't believe that I'm going to spend the winter solstice here in the forest.” At least you didn't think so this morning.

“Winter solstice? Wait, today is the 21st?” Suddenly Levi seems in panic.

You don't get his sudden outburst. “Yeah, that's right. Is there anything wrong?”

Levi raises his hands over his head. “Man this is bad, no actually, it's the worst thing that ever happened to me. I mean I should have known it was too good to be true. I finally found a fellow lover of anime and games, and they don't run screaming as soon as they see me. It's a cute girl on top of that. Naturally, this is too good for someone like me. What was I expecting?” Levi rambles and he seems in distress.

You don't know what to say to all of this. “Hold on Levi, take a deep breath and explain to me what is going on.”

Levi does just that, he breathes in and out a few times.

“So as you know, my brothers and I live here in the woods, far away from society. The reason for that is that we are all werewolves. I mean it's not a huge deal. Most days we are more ordinary humans but with more hair, sharper senses and higher strength. At least until the night of the full moon. Then we become beasts. Sadly that night is tonight.” Levi isn't sure if you will believe him, but he is extremely distraught.

You aren't quite sure how to react to this. Is Levi insane or are all these rumors that are going around true after all? You only know two things for certain: It's a full moon and it's going to be a very long night.

“Levi, are you kidding me? This isn't funny you know.” You feel very wobbly right now.

“I wish I was joking. It doesn't matter if you believe me. I will leave and spend the night outside anyways. I have a charm against werewolves here somewhere. I'm not quite sure if it works, since I got it as a bonus from a collector's edition but you will be fine when you lock the door. Even in my wolf form I'm very antisocial and it's not like I'm attacking anyone anyway.” Levi is very serious, and you can't help but just stare at him without uttering a word.

He seems so sad. You feel bad for him. You however can't speak. What are you supposed to say to this?

Levi quickly hands you a charm. You take it from Levi.

“I'm sorry Dani.” Levi doesn't look at you at all. He shakes. This must be very troublesome for Levi.

Levi seems lost for words as well. It seems like he wants to tell you a million things and yet can't say any of them.

Levi keeps looking to the ground. Then he shakes his head. “You can stay here and do whatever you want. I got some food here somewhere. When the morning comes, you can leave. Just go straight from the gate, and you will meet the path.” Levi speaks in a defeated way. He doesn't expect you to talk to him ever again.

You can't help but wonder if his status as a werewolf caused him to become like this.

Levi turns towards the door, you aren't able to see his face, but you can imagine his expression.

“Levi…” You weakly say his name when he opens the door.

Levi isn't reacting, seemingly afraid of what you might say. He is incapable to even look at you. He must be terrified of your face right now. Even when it's just frozen in confusion.

The door closes in your face, and you still stare at it for a while, clutching the charm in your hand.

A beeping noise snaps you out of your daze. It spooks you for a moment. It's Levi's phone. It's a bit frustrating when you look at the screen. It's a Lp full notification.

You almost groan in frustration but then you notice you have the same game on your phone. You chuckle lightly.

How would Levi react if he knew that you play the same game? You feel like he would be delighted.

Suddenly you feel isolated in the big mansion.

Then you remember the snacks that Levi mentioned and find a bowl filled with them. Seeing as you have nothing better to do, you sit on the beanbag and indulge in the sweets while checking on your mobile game.

Some time passes, night has fallen and it has gotten rather spooky outside.

You hope that Levi is alright. Suddenly something hits the window. It's probably just a branch but it nevertheless gives you a jump scare.

You almost curse whatever spooked you, when the lights suddenly start to flicker. That's just what you need. Then it's dark. Your phone still provides some light but it's eerily quiet now without the game music. You hear something creak. Truly a great night to be all alone in a huge mansion in the middle of nowhere. A deep sigh escapes your lips.

Another creaking noise, this time it's louder. Your heart suddenly starts to beat faster. What if it's Levi? If he was right then he is a werewolf by now. You wish that you had something silver in your backpack. Sadly, a werewolf attack wasn't on your list of possible scenarios.

What are you supposed to do now?

You have no time to think, something big is outside the door. You can clearly hear heavy steps. You clench the charm even tighter. You look around the dark room. There is nothing here that could defend you.

Next you hear something scratching at the door. You start to shake and move to the back of the room.

The door opens, it's absolutely dark, but you can still make out two yellow glowing eyes. Whatever it is it's huge, big as a bear at least. Your back is pressed against the fish-tank, there is no way for you to escape.

The phone in your hand shines into the room, providing you a bit of light, just enough to see a monstrous shadow moving slowly closer. You can hear it breathing, the shadow is slowly taking form in the light. It's a huge wolf. You hold your breath.

Its eyes are fixed on you, leaving you unable to move. You hold the charm up in front of you. The wolf seems completely unaffected. This is what you get for depending on a collector's edition item.

It keeps on moving closer. Your whole body shakes and then your phone drops to the ground. The light shines right into the wolf's eyes. Now you can see the resemblance to Levi's eyes. Seemingly unable to meet your eyes, he looks down. The color of his fur is the same as his hair color. It's extremely unusual.

The wolf just stands there, with a bit of distance between you two. He seems a bit awkward just standing there, somehow completely out of place.

This is also remarkably Levi-like. Somehow you stop shaking and just look at the wolf with curiosity. It doesn't look like he plans to attack you.

While you still think about your next move, your phone starts to beep, and much like yourself earlier, were-Levi jumps from the sudden noise.

You break out laughing. You can't help yourself. Levi just looks so utterly silly right now.

Levi glares at you.

“Sorry Levi.” You feel a bit bad, but at least your tension is all gone now.

Levi looks like he is sighing, it's a bit hard to tell in his current form. Then the light in the mansion flickers back to life. Somehow Wolf Levi seems even less scary now.

Then you see that he has something in his mouth, and it shines silver.

Your eyes widen. Carefully you step closer, Levi drops the object and withdraws a few steps.

You look at the fallen object. “Levi...that's my necklace?!” You recognize it right away. “How did you find this?” You look at him, mouth slightly open.

Naturally Levi can't talk right now. It's kind of silly to ask him anything right now.

You take the necklace and almost cry from happiness. “Thank you so much Levi.” You say with an honest smile.

Wolf Levi looks away, he seems embarrassed. It's good that Levi is so easy to read. It makes this whole situation much easier.

Levi seems to be slowly backing away from you. He is clearly not interested in hurting you.

“Wait Levi. It's cold outside and you don't want to hurt me so just stay here.” You still vividly remember the cold snow and somehow picture Levi waking up in the cold snow once morning comes.

Levi seems a bit reluctant.

You have a brilliant idea. “We could watch 'Celebrate with Ruri-chan'.”

Levi was so excited about it earlier and you can see that even in his wolf form he is loving the idea. His tail wags happily.

You were frightened of him just moments ago, but now he is pretty adorable.

You put the DVD into the player. Wolf Levi settles somewhere next to you, his undivided attention on the movie. You can barely suppress your smile.

Who would have thought that the winter solstice would be this exciting?

In the process of the movie, you get more and more comfortable around the big fluffy werewolf. You put blankets over him and yourself. It's warm and comfy. You even stroke his silky fur a bit, which he doesn't seem to mind at all.

At some point you pass out. You almost feel the whole night was nothing but a dream.

At least until you see that you are in Levi's room. It's very quiet, and Levi is nowhere to be seen. You find the necklace still close to you and go to clean it. It feels very good to have it back. With the help of a mirror, you put it around your neck.

You hear the door open and look to find Levi, with a tray of food for two.

He looks at you a bit awkwardly.

“Good morning Levi.” You try to just act normal, but you also feel awkward.

“Morning, umm here I made some food. I can just leave it here.” Levi is under the impression that you now hate him.

“Don't be silly. Come and join me.” It's not like you are used to the fact that Levi is a werewolf but you still like Levi a lot.

Levi is very surprised. “Are you sure about that?”

“I admit it was a bit scary last night but you aren't much different when you are in your wolf form and you found my necklace. How did you even do that?” You are pretty puzzled about it.

“My senses are even sharper when I transform, and I guess I really wanted to find it for you. I admit my memory is a bit hazy, so I hope I didn't do anything weird when I was a wolf.” Levi seems uncertain.

“It's definitely the best late birthday gift that I ever got, and I have to admit it was kind of cool to see a real werewolf. Even when I was frightened at first.” You can't really help yourself but to be in awe. This sort of thing has always fascinated you.

“You are an odd one, aren't you? I have no right to complain, at least you don't loathe me. So I call this a win.” Levi gives you a timid smile. Then you both eat.

Somehow you are both silent. You know that now where you have found your necklace you have no reason to even come back. This makes you pretty sad.

“Actually I have been wondering if you would add me to your friends list in Demon Cutie? I happened to see a game notification.” Levi seems to have used all of his courage to ask you this.

“Of course.” You swiftly add him, then you ask him something equally bold. “Can I add your number, so we can keep talking?”

You feel a bit nervous after asking.

Levi shifts around, unsure how to react. It almost seems like he forgot the human language. “S-sure I mean if you want too… in fact that would make me very happy. I hope I'm not being too forward, but you are pretty cool and I would like calling you my friend one day.” Levi starts to stutter a little but then manages to look straight at your face.

You smile at Levi. “You are already my friend. I mean you did all of these things for me, and I think you are a very great person.”

“Now I feel like it's my birthday. I feel like I'm dreaming. My brothers will be so jealous.” Levi blushes and his eyes light up brightly.

You giggle, maybe one day you can level your friendship up but you won't say that to Levi right now.

“We should take a selfie together.” You want to remember this day for a long time.

“I wanted to ask you that. Are you sure that you aren't some kind of mind reader?” Levi seems pretty surprised.

“I'm pretty certain that I can't read minds, but you never know.” You tease him a little.

Levi shakes his head with a smile. “You truly are something. Anyway do you want to stay a bit longer and watch 'Celebrate with Ruri-chan'? I did promise that we would watch it.” Levi clearly looks for an excuse to make you stay just a bit longer.

You don't mention that you technically already watched it with him last night. Since you also want to stay just a bit longer. “Alright, but after that I need to go home.”

“Okay I'm so excited.” Levi is very giddy.

You smile at this new expression of his. Truly a great decision to stay longer.

You wonder what other expressions of Levi you will see in the future. Especially when he realizes the small crush that you start to develop for him.

You can't wait to find out.

~ I hope you enjoyed this read and it's something that makes you happy.

I honestly had a ton of fun writing this.

*Winter solstice where I'm is on the 21st of December. It's the longest night of the year.*

#ObeyMeSS_2020 #ObeyMeSecretSanta2020 #obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me fanfiction #obey me reader insert #obey me!#obey me levi x reader #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me one master to rule them all #tw: injury

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imgoingtocrash · 4 years

Text

knowing (of everything she doesn’t)

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: G

Word Count: 9,097

Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones & Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Happy Hogan & Michelle Jones, Happy Hogan & Peter Parker

Summary:

“Mister Stark means a lot to me, M,” Peter says firmly, effectively ending the discussion.

“I know,” she answers, squeezing his hand where it rests over the cupholder between them.

Looking out the window, what she thinks to herself is: do you mean that much to him?

Maybe it’s overprotective or presumptuous of her—she’s only known Peter well for a couple of years and has been dating him for less than one.

It’s just—in all that time, in all of the stories of his alter-ego’s exploits that he’s finally shared…she just can’t see how the universe-saving multibillionaire fits into all of this.

MJ joins Peter for a Thanksgiving visit to the Starks' lake house. It turns out that even after years of quiet observation and a few months of dating, there are still things about Peter Parker and his life that manage to surprise her.

Read on AO3

My gift for @peter-stank for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!!! Happy belated Birthday, Beedee, and thank you so much for your amazing contributions to the fandom. Hopefully you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3 (Fic also under the cut, as requested by the exchange/until reveal.)

They’re an hour into a two and a half hour drive when Michelle decides to drop the question.

“Isn’t it weird?” MJ asks. “Casually being invited to your boss’s house for Thanksgiving?��

Peter shrugs, but she can see the way his shoulders tense underneath his hoodie when he answers, “Maybe. Before.”

Before doesn’t need to be clarified. The Blip.

“Besides, he makes a mean turkey stuffing. I promise, that’s worth it,” Peter attempts to deflect, the barest hint of a smile directed her way.

But Michelle has never been good at leaving well enough alone. She asks too many questions, sometimes makes people uncomfortable. It’s how she got good at academic decathlon and how she (mostly) figured out Peter was Spider-Man.

“What changed?”

“Hm?”

“The Blip was traumatic for everyone in one way or another. Why did it change things with Tony?” She never refers to him as Mister Stark despite Peter rarely ever calling his mentor anything else.

“It just…did.” Peter shrugs again, eyes determinately focused on the road ahead and far away from her. “He lost me, I almost lost him, it sucked. That’s all.”

“Okay, but—“ It just doesn’t make sense to her that he was an intern at SI or a superhero colleague or whatever, and somehow it added up to…whatever this is. Schlepping up to the Catskills in Peter’s hand-me-down Toyota for a few days at the Starks’ cabin. Like, that’s just a thing that Peter has been invited to do, and he doesn’t think anything of it.

“Mister Stark means a lot to me, M,” Peter says firmly, effectively ending the discussion.

“I know,” she answers, squeezing his hand where it rests over the cupholder between them.

Looking out the window, what she thinks to herself is: do you mean that much to him?

Maybe it’s overprotective or presumptuous of her—she’s only known Peter well for a couple of years and has been dating him for less than one.

It’s just—in all that time, in all of the stories of his alter-ego’s exploits that he’s finally shared…she just can’t see how the universe-saving multibillionaire fits into all of this.

They arrive at the lake house just as the sun’s setting, the orange hues reflecting across the water.

A loud thwack breaks the relative silence that’s formed by the car’s engine turning off.

“Petey!” shrieks the high pitched little voice that accompanies a little blur of movement out of the house.

Peter’s already unbuckling his seatbelt, a smile blown wide across his face. He kicks the door open—used to the way it sometimes sticks—and just barely misses hitting the brown-haired little girl that can only be Morgan Stark in her precious little head.

“Morgie!” Peter shouts in a parrot of her tone, not bothering to shut the door behind him before he picks up the five-year-old girl, spinning them both around in circles while she screams with laughter.

“’S so good to see you,” Peter says, pressing sloppy kisses to Morgan’s cheeks. “Did you miss me?”

“Yeah! Daddy said you were coming for a whole week this time, and I have a whole list of movies that you have to watch with me, and—“

Morgan trails on, but MJ is watching Peter—his attention is zeroed in on the girl in his arms, his megawatt grin on full display. He’s comfortable with her. She called him Petey—a nickname she knows is usually reserved only for May. She knew Peter was close with Morgan, but she’d always assumed it was in that way she sees her younger cousins every holiday and they think she’s the coolest person in the world for exactly eight hours, and then they don’t see or speak to each other again until the next family event, rinse and repeat.

The girl stops herself, moving her eyes directly to MJ and locking on. She’s always kind of hated that about little kids—they look into your soul and just kind of know things.

“Who’s that?” Morgan asks, more firmly wrapping her arms around Peter, as if to protect him.

(The only danger Peter’s been in from MJ in the last three hours was during their argument about road trip playlists. Particularly, Peter’s memetic gag of repeating What’s New Pussycat? on the same playlist multiple times and thinking she wouldn’t stop it before the first It’s Not Unusual.)

Michelle decides to get out of the car and introduce herself instead of awkwardly staring through the open door. It’s a bit of a chore—the passenger door’s handle is finicky—but she gets out without landing her ass in the mud and considers it a win. She still wipes her hands on her pants as she rounds the car, trying to remove any weird, nervous sweat. She’s not worried about it. She’s fine.

“I’m, um. Michelle,” she states, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

Morgan’s head quirks to the side, looking Michelle up and down before she screams, “Daddy, Petey brought some weird stranger to Thanksgiving!” directly into Peter’s ear.

“Ow,” he hisses, rubbing at his earlobe. “Morgan, that’s not cool, MJ is—“

Morgan doesn’t let Peter finish, sticking out her tongue and wriggling out of Peter’s arms, running off towards the house as fast as she came out of it.

Tony Stark himself opens the screen door of the cabin next, chuckling as his daughter weaves between his legs. The effects from the battle with Thanos are clear—though it’s less intense than she imagines it was a year ago. White scar tissue spindles through the right side of Tony’s face, following down under his t-shirt and transitioning into to the metal arm painted the iconic Iron Man color scheme of red and gold.

Peter showed her the specs of that arm shortly after they got together—apparently Tony finished his rehab just after their trip to Europe, and it was supposed to be a gift from Peter. Seeing it on the man himself is…daunting, to say the least.

“Sorry about her,” Tony says, easing himself down the stairs as he approaches. There’s no kind of limp, but he seems to take his time with it all the same. “She gets a little territorial with us sometimes. Pep says we need to get her around more kids her own age, but the idea of sending her off to preschool…”

He shakes his head like he’s clearing cobwebs. She has to admit, he seems more human like this, surrounded by nature, talking about his daughter, the sun showing the lighter, grey strands of his hair more clearly.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony says, pulling Peter into a hug. It’s not just a one-armed casual sort of hug either, but a full one that goes on for a minute, dramatically rocking them back and forth. “Ugh, I missed you.”

“It’s only been a few days, Mister Stark!” Peter’s laughing reply is muffled into Tony’s shoulder. When they come apart, the smile from earlier has returned. Tony’s hands—robotic and human—have moved to Peter’s shoulders.

“A week. A whole week! I can’t spend that much time away from you anymore. It aggravates my angina.”

“Now you’re just trying to be embarrassing,” Peter grumbles, reluctant when the other man runs his hand through Peter’s gelled hair and musses it up just so.

“Absolutely,” Tony admits. He turns to Michelle. “You must be the famous scary girlfriend.”

“You’re just as bad as Morgan!” Peter whines. MJ isn’t sure she’s ever heard him sound so childish in his life despite the fact that he acts like a giant, overexcited goofball ninety percent of the time.

“My reputation precedes me,” Michelle ends up replying, shaking Tony’s hand when it’s offered. For some reason she was more nervous to meet Morgan than her father. Maybe it’s just her instinct to not be intimidated by rich tycoon types. Then again…she and the rest of the world know that he’s much more than that. Still. Old habits die hard.

“Now see, she can take a joke. I like her,” Tony says, nodding at Peter. Peter’s face goes a soft red, just edging on a full blush. She doesn’t really care if Tony likes her, but Peter clearly does.

Tony hooks an arm around both of their shoulders, leading them up to the house.

“Seriously, it’s good to have you guys. I’ve kind of been dreaming about the holidays—it got me through a lot of my physical therapy sessions,” he admits. It seems to be a more vulnerable comment than he lets on—Peter leans his head onto Tony’s shoulder. He’s almost too tall for it, but it’s…weirdly sweet. Peter’s big on physical comfort, as she now knows. Apparently even Tony has gotten used to it.

“Christmas is going to be a goddamn blow out, trust me,” Tony continues, breaking their grouping to lead them into the house. “Wall to wall Avengers, a mountain of presents. I’m slowly but surely convincing Pepper to let me build a fully functioning Santa’s sleigh to put on the roof.”

“No, he’s not,” comes a voice from deeper in the house. Pepper Potts steps in from what must be the kitchen, wiping flour off on the apron around her waist. “I will accept the light-up ones that are meant to be decoration and nothing else.”

Pepper presses a finger into her husband’s chest firmly, spreading a puff of flour and accenting her point with a quick peck to his lips. It’s a surprisingly domestic scene. She looks at Peter, and he’s looking at her already, soft doe eyes and a mind probably full of gross, sweet things that are way, way in their future.

Dork, she mouths. His returning smile is predictably un-cowed.

“You kids are just adorable,” Tony comments. Pepper nudges him with an elbow on her way to Peter.

“Hi, sweetie,” she says, pressing a kiss to his head and holding her hands up. “I’d hug you but—“

“All good,” Peter replies. “Anything I can do to help?”

“No, no. You unpack, relax. I’ve got it, just—semi-literally have my fingers in a lot of pies, right now.”

“That’s code for please, god, don’t let a Parker near my cooking,” Tony whispers to her.

“Enhanced. Hearing.” Peter’s look at his mentor is the closest to peeved that he really gets. (She has to admit, though—there’s a reason they mostly go out or order in on dates. Cooking isn’t really either of their fortes.)

“Boys,” Pepper hums. It sounds like this is a common occurrence in the Stark household. “It’s nice to meet you, Michelle. Peter talks about you all the time. Again, I’d shake your hand, but—“ She holds up her palms, shrugging.

“No it’s—super awesome to meet you. Thank you for having me.” It’s actually beyond awesome. Despite her beef with Stark Industries and their ilk, she has to admit Pepper Potts is pretty high on her list of inspirational female powerhouses. She became CEO at 40 with only a Bachelor’s in Business and a Fine Arts minor, and Stark Industries entered a historic era of technology production and philanthropy under her guidance.

“Oh my god, you’re totally starstruck right now, aren’t you?” Peter questions in her ear, quieter than Tony so that only she hears.

“Shut up,” she says between her teeth, swatting at his arm without breaking her smile at Pepper.

Pepper smiles, giving Tony a look that Michelle can’t decipher. It might be flirtatious? Are she and Peter reminding Pepper of Tony and herself when they were younger? Her life is so weird, right now.

“I’ll go get our stuff,” Peter offers, out the screen door before she can argue that she doesn’t need his help. Like, it’s nice that her boyfriend can lift an entire car’s worth of stuff in one go, but she doesn’t always need him to. It feels a little…exploitative of his powers, somehow.

“I have a five-year-old to console,” Tony says, then quirks his head. “Chide? Eh, I’ll feel it out in the moment. Maybe a little of both. Make yourself comfortable, Michelle.”

Pepper watches Tony ascend the stairs, a what can you do? sort of look on her face towards MJ.

“Seriously, you and Peter have the afternoon to yourselves. If you need anything, just ask FRIDAY.” Pepper points up to the ceiling, as if that’s where the AI lives—which, maybe it does—before she turns around and attends to the beeping timer coming from the kitchen.

Michelle’s had a little experience with Peter’s AI, Karen, but the whole house being run by a super AI is something totally out of the norm. Honestly, she’ll probably just ask Peter any questions to avoid conversing with it.

She takes the chance alone to really observe her surroundings. From the outside the house looked like a pretty rustic cabin, but inside it’s a mostly-open floor plan mix of modern design and homey decor.

In particular, she notices the walls and surfaces are covered in pictures. The entryway features what can only be a shot of Tony and Pepper’s wedding day. The lake is featured behind them—Tony in a suit, Pepper in a white maternity dress that accentuates her pregnant belly.

Further into the living area there’s a larger variety of shots: Baby Morgan in Tony’s arms at the hospital, a few older shots with faces Michelle recognizes—Bruce Banner, James Rhodes, and even a group shot of the Avengers, smiling and receiving Medals of Honor from the Mayor of New York.

Nestled in a few shots of Morgan at a few different ages is a familiar face. Peter is pictured with Tony—it’s a selfie that was clearly printed, Peter making a goofy face combating Tony’s unamused expression. Next to it is a more recent picture. It appears to be from the spring shortly after the battle. Morgan is sitting in Peter’s lap, her hands covered in sticky popsicle juice while Peter is taking a lick from the offered desert over her shoulder. Clearly a candid moment.

Finally, nestled in-between a shot of the Starks teaching a younger Morgan how to swim and a press picture of Tony and Pepper from a gala she can’t identify is one of Peter and Tony on the very couch next to her, both of them asleep and pajama-clad, like they’d fallen asleep like that the night before and someone caught it the morning after.

“Ugh, that one’s so bad,” Peter says, suddenly behind her. He has a talent for sneaking up on her, one that would probably be more useful if he wasn’t always running his mouth and announcing his presence, particularly to bad guys. “Of course you found it.”

“I didn’t realize—“ she starts, but frowns, unsure of exactly what she’s thinking. It’s so…homey, here, and Peter’s clearly welcome. She knew he visited a lot, but this… “You’re all over the place.”

Peter clearly doesn’t think anything of it, shrugging. “I, um. We didn’t have anywhere to go after, you know?”

He’s never comfortable talking about the Blip or the battle against Thanos. A lot of people aren’t, but Peter in particular always stumbles through it. In the months of their dating, he’s only brought it up if she’s asked, never on his own.

“We lived here for a while. Our old apartment belonged to someone else, but May wouldn’t take any charity, wouldn’t accept the Starks’ penthouse in the city. She and Pepper looked for a place in Queens for months, but there were suddenly all of those people looking for housing…”

He loses himself for a moment. He does this sometimes too, drifting off like he’s disconnected, unable to keep himself in the here and now.

She takes his hand, and with a squeeze he comes back. There aren’t any tears, but there’s a weight in his eyes that she recognizes: guilt. For having a home when others still don’t months later. For failing at stopping Thanos the first time. For any number of other things he’s yet to reveal to her.

“Peter…” she tries, but what can she say? It’s times like this that she wishes she was…more. That she was better equipped to handle this superhero life that he’s so dedicated to. He takes the weight of the world on his shoulders, and she hasn’t figured out exactly how to give him a break, to take some of the weight as her own, or if she ever can.

“It’s fine, I’m—anyway, it was just…kind of nice, after everything that happened. Tony was recovering from here, Pepper was working from home a lot, Morgan was scared, I was…” He clears his throat, not finishing the sentence. “It was good to have everyone under one roof for a while, that’s all.”

She tucks herself into his side in a hug, unsure how else to respond. He would accept platitudes but he wouldn’t believe them. She rarely knows the right thing to say, anyway. Maybe this is the best she can do.

He pats her shoulder, breaking the quiet. “Come on, I’ll show you upstairs.”

Peter keeps his arm around her as they walk, squeezing them both up the stairs with their backpacks in hand.

“We’re staying in my room.” He stops walking, stiffening in a way that makes her feel—well, her age. They haven’t even really discussed sex, but any discussions past their first few chaste kisses have turned out a little awkward, stumbling forward because neither of them have dated before this.

“I mean, as long as that’s okay with you, I can take the couch, or—“

“No, no, that’s fine. We’ve shared before,” she mumbles, knowing there have been a few times May must have seen them asleep on Peter’s bed and let them be. She assumes his aunt’s open door policy will stay in place, likely why the Starks are okay with them sharing. Not like she has much desire to do anything in the Starks’ house, and especially with a five-year-old only a few rooms away.

“Your room?” she asks, moving them along. She assumed he and May just shared a guest bed or something that he just took over whenever he visited, not that he had a room of his own.

“It, ah—Mister Stark insisted,” Peter laughs, but mixed in with the slight embarrassment is something warm too, shown by how Peter’s gaze turns to the door clearly labeled Morgan’s Room in a pretty cursive font, likely Pepper’s work. She can hear the soft murmurs of Tony’s voice in the room, meaning that Peter can probably hear the entire conversation.

There’s a bathroom in the hall that’s a mix of Morgan’s colorful bath toys and what she knows is Peter’s deodorant sitting on the sink counter. Next to Morgan’s room is another bedroom, likely Tony and Pepper’s. At the end of the hall is where they stop, the unmarked door holding a room that is different from Peter’s in New York, but funnily enough, almost more expressive of him.

Peter hasn’t made it a secret that he doesn’t love his new apartment—it’s smaller than their old place, and devoid of the memories from his Uncle Ben’s presence. He seems to think there’s not much point in decorating it with the future expectation of college dorms ahead of them, and has apparently spilled most of his personal effects across this room instead.

The A New Hope poster on the wall is one of the nicer reproductions, framed and—signed by Mark Hamill, of course, probably a gift from Tony. A hologram is up on the desk, the Spider-Man symbol lazily floating around like a desktop screensaver. There are a few Lego sets unfinished in the corner—Peter rarely finishes them without Ned to keep them on task.

It’s Peter spilling out of every crumpled sheet of loose-leaf paper, every sneaker missing its mate.

Peter immediately takes to cleaning up the array of dirty clothes on the floor, mumbling apologies. She spies a faded hoodie with the cracked screen-printing of MIT’s logo among the mess before he scoops it up too.

“I was in a hurry last time I was here, sorry. Pepper says she won’t clean up after me because it sets a bad example for Morgan—which I totally get! But also, I mean, you’ve met me.”

It’s as self-explanatory as he makes it sound—he has a busy life. Sometimes, when stuff is crazy, a few dirty socks on the floor don’t really matter so much.

However, she also senses that some part of him likes the mess. His room in the city is a cramped box, and the charging case for the Iron Spider takes up an entire corner on its own. Here, he’s free to spread himself across the floors and up the walls as much as he likes.

“Yeah, Parker, you are kind of a mess,” she teases, only smiling more at his response of wrinkling his nose up at her.

“Anyway,” he continues with a grunt, flinging a sock into a hamper that’s overfull like he’s some kind of basketball star and frowning when it bounces into the floor instead. “Since Pepper’s kicked us out of the kitchen and Mo is being a grouch, we can do whatever. FRIDAY has any movie or show you could want—comedies, romcoms, that sad documentary about polar bears you like…“

“It’s not sad, it’s realistic.”

“What’s real is that you watched me cry about the ice caps melting for like thirty minutes, M.”

He brings her close, wrapping his arms around her waist and swaying them in place like it’s some kind of grand romantic moment, the two of them bickering in the middle of his messy bedroom at Tony Stark’s house. For some reason she has the impression that he’ll spurt into a tall and lanky mess in a few years, but for now she’s still looking down at him just a smidge, meaning he’s looking up at her all…mushy and enamored.

“As we all should,” she replies, failing to sound serious because she’s suddenly distracted by the hint of Peter’s teeth peeking out of his smile. Her boyfriend is so cute, which, yes, she knew that, but it’s just—he’s so much, Peter Parker, and she’s barely even scratched the surface after quietly watching him for years and thinking she had him all figured out. It’s intimidating, to see the open emotion on his face and know there’s even more that she’d never considered underneath.

“I—“ She takes a breath, trying to recover from the flustered blush that’s creeped up her cheeks without her permission. “Nap. I could go for a nap. That sounds good, right?”

Peter’s smile grows—he’s always so entertained when he breaks her brain like this, so smug that he’s one of the only people that can.

At her warning look, he lets her awkward stumbling drop, holding up his hands. “Yeah, MJ, that’s—sounds good.”

“That’s what I thought.”

If she picked that activity for an excuse to hold Peter close for a few hours alone after the barrage of meeting so many new people, well, no one has to know.

“Pete.” A voice she only vaguely recognizes is within the edge of her consciousness. It’s not her step-father, so she chooses to ignore it, snuggling into the warmth under her head further. “Spiiiider-baby. Kiddo, c’mon, wake up.”

Her eyes open just a slit—watery vision turned milky by the overpowering beam of light that leaks in. In the darkness of the room, she finds Peter’s face, still firmly buried in his pillow. Behind him, partially obscured by the curve of his shoulder and the powerful light from the hallway, is Tony.

He smiles when he catches her eyes. “Not the one I planned on, but hey, one out of two’s not bad.”

“Peeetey,” Tony tries Peter again, this time accompanying his calls with a touch to Peter’s head, he’s—running his hand through Peter’s hair? Is she dreaming? “Buddy, it’s time to get up. It’s dinnertime.”

“Hm?” finally comes Peter’s groggy response, slurred as he turns into Tony’s hand.

“Magic words,” Tony jokes to her, stroking Peter’s curls again, fully mussing what’s already been ruined by their nap.

“Feels nice,” Peter sighs. He squeezes the arm he has around MJ, as if for emphasis. “M’comfy.”

“Aw, they’re so cute when they’re sleepy,” Tony full-on coos, and that seems to do it, eliciting a groan from Peter’s chest against her ear.

“You’re so embarrassing, Mister Stark.” Peter bats Tony’s hand away this time, rubbing at his eyes and flitting them over to the holographic clock on the desk—6:30 PM.

“We slept a while.”

“I’ll say. I had Morgan all primed for an apology and you two were totally passed out.”

MJ removes herself from Peter’s hold, running a hand through her loosened ponytail and catching a few matted curls with a frown.

Tony turns up the lights slowly, sliding the switch to half-power.

“I negotiated that you two would watch Mulan with her after dinner, by the way. She tests people with how they react to Disney movies. Don’t ask me why.”

Peter nods solemnly, stretching his arms with a few quick pops.

“I got Tangled. Ned and I went to see it with Ned’s little sister as kids, but I still got all choked up at the whole hair-cutting scene. Cemented me with her for life.”

Peter literally rolls off of the bed, landing on his feet as if he’d simply sat up and stood like a normal person.

She and Tony are similarly unimpressed.

“The fact that you also act like her personal spidery-jungle-gym probably doesn’t hurt either,” he comments.

“You’re just mad that she doesn’t play Iron Man as much anymore.”

Tony sniffs, but doesn’t deny it. “Pizza’s getting cold. Pepper was too tired to cook anything else tonight, and I instantly agreed.”

“But have you ever had pizza for Thanksgiving?” Peter inquires, tapping his skull with his pointer finger like this idea holds the secrets of the universe. “You order the night before and eat it reheated the next day. No cooking required.”

“Just say May burned a turkey the year before and you were scared,” Tony replies. “It’s so much faster that way.”

“I’ll have you know it was Uncle Ben who was scared—“

By the time they’ve moved on to weighing the importance of tradition versus creating new traditions, Michelle has managed to brush her hair back into a more controlled ponytail and has splashed a little water on her face in the bathroom.

They’re still in Peter’s room going at it when she returns.

“You guys talk a lot,” she interrupts.

They both go silent, look at each other, then shrug. It’s like looking into a mirror, in a weird way, and she’s concerned that she’s dating half of that mirror when the other half is Tony Stark, who spent years flying around in a suit of armor and almost died on multiple occasions.

“Daddy!” Morgan thumps her way up the stairs, sliding into Tony’s legs on socked feet. “Mommy said you’re taking too long.”

Tony easily brings his daughter into his arms, bouncing her on his hip and leading them down the stairs that way.

“Oh she did, did she?” he asks, voice taking on a playful quality. “That doesn’t sound like Mommy. She usually just tells me to hurry the fu—“

“Mister Stark!” Peter interjects, slapping his hands over Morgan’s ears and awkwardly hovering over Tony’s shoulder on the stairway to do it. Honestly, it would probably be more comfortable for him to just get on the ceiling at this point.

“Oh, I’m kidding! I wasn’t actually gonna say it!”

Tony pulls Morgan out of Peter’s loose grip, moving all of them forward and almost sending Peter toppling down the stairs. MJ grabs the back of Peter’s shirt even though she suspects his feet are doing the steadying for him.

“You guys are like some kind of messed up comedy troupe,” Michelle comments, watching Peter pout and dust off his clothes as if it will rid him of any embarrassment.

Pepper shakes her head at all of them as they enter the kitchen, probably having heard at least some of that. “More like a circus,” she grumbles.

“We do have an alpaca,” Tony adds, placing Morgan onto her feet.

“I think that’d be more of a petting zoo,” Peter argues.

“Michelle, I’m sorry about them,” Pepper says. “Get whatever you want, we always order plenty for Mister-Mega-Metabolism over here.”

Pepper points to Peter, who has already unceremoniously shoved half of a slice of pepperoni pizza in his mouth and has a trail of grease slipping down his chin.

“You guys are so mean,” he sulks without bothering to swallow, meaning the words are a garbled, spitting mess. “Mister Stark’s the one that keeps nagging me about my blood sugar!”

“You’re attracted to this,” Tony says to Michelle, pointing at Peter. “This? Really?”

“He’s alright,” she answers, dragging both a slice of vegetarian and a slice of cheese onto her own plate without bothering to look at Peter’s fake-hurt expression.

“MJ, you’re supposed to be on my side, this is—I can’t even—“

In his distraction, Morgan decides to be sneaky. Only MJ seems to catch her subtle movements toward Peter, using her short height to her advantage and the element of surprise to steal what’s left of the piece of pizza from Peter’s hand. She giggles to herself triumphantly, biting into it herself.

“Morgan, sweetie, that’s—“ Pepper tries, but seems to lose the end of the admonishment that was probably about germs.

Peter only smiles, crouching as if preparing for a fight.

“Here they go,” Tony hums, expectant in a way Michelle certainly isn’t.

“You better watch out, you little—!” In a fit of laughter, Morgan sprints out of the kitchen, Peter hot on her heels. They run a lap around the living room furniture.

“Peter, leave your sister alone, she needs to eat her—aaaaand they’re already in the yard,” Tony sighs. He and Pepper seem to give up, bringing their own plates and the so far unused plates of Peter and Morgan to the table. MJ follows suit, placing herself an empty chair between the two table heads.

“I swear to god, they’re normal, like, ninety percent of the time.” Tony pauses. “Eighty-five. Solid eighty percent.”

“Did you…?” MJ feels awkward asking about it, but maybe it’s something Peter hasn’t told her yet, something she wasn’t supposed to know that just slipped out. Tony said—he called Morgan Peter’s sister. “Is there something I should know?”

Both Tony and Pepper look at Michelle like she’s not making any sense.

“What you said—that Morgan is Peter’s sister, it’s just—I can keep a secret! I just didn’t know he was, you know. Yours.“

“He wishes,” Pepper snorts into her ice water.

Tony’s responding smile is far too wide.

“I keep asking May for partial custody, but she just won’t budge!” He snaps his fingers in a very exaggerated, aw, shucks way. Pepper and Tony both laugh.

“Ah,” she lets out, embarrassed to have even had the thought that Peter might be Tony’s secret child or something, picking at her pizza toppings to avoid looking at the Starks.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie.” Pepper pats her arm comfortingly. “Before the Blip there were articles with pretty similar lines of questioning. All shut down because they photographed a minor, of course.”

Pepper seems pretty proud of that, and MJ supposes she should be. People definitely would have made the Spider-Man connection sooner if Peter and Tony were in the paper together all the time.

More seriously, Tony says, “I’ve looked at the kid’s blood…more than I wish I had, honestly, but he gets injured, it happens. Anyway, yeah, no. FRIDAY would have figured that one out pretty quickly. DNA scanners and all.”

She nods, and the awkward silence thankfully only has to sit for a few more seconds before Peter bursts back into the house, Morgan wriggling around and squealing in his arms.

“I caught a wild Morguna!” Peter cheers.

“Is that the name of an actual Pokémon?” Tony asks, switching his gaze between Pepper and Michelle for an answer. “Did I accidentally nickname my kid after a battling monster thing? I only know like three of them, help me out here.”

Peter rolls his eyes, placing Morgan down with a quick tickle to her ribs that sends her flying towards the table.

“Come eat, Little Miss,” Tony commands, patting his hand on the chair to his right. Peter sits automatically to his left. “Michelle won’t want to watch a movie with you if you misbehave.”

“Do you like Disney movies?” Morgan probes, kicking her feet under the table and creating a light vibration.

Michelle shrugs. “Depends on which movie.”

Morgan squints, accessing. She nods.

“Good answer.”

Next to her under the table, Peter gives her a thumbs up, another piece of pizza already in his other hand.

The answer of where he got the food is clear as Tony shoves his other piece over to Morgan.

Pepper rolls her eyes and stands to presumably help re-fill his plate from the boxes on the counter.

Mulan was as good as MJ remembered it being when she was a kid.

Morgan seemed pretty pleased when she started mouthing along the words to I’ll Make A Man Out Of You, but less so when that prompted Peter to turn it into a dance number including the jumping kicks that almost resulted in a broken glass coffee table.

Despite their earlier nap, Michelle and Peter both find it fairly easy to fall asleep that night.

Still, it may be because of the nap that she doesn’t sleep as hard. She feels a disturbance, physically—Peter’s warmth leaves the bed, the steady pressure of his spine against her own is no longer there.

At first Michelle thinks it’s just a quick bathroom trip. Then she finds that she’s not as comfortable as she was those five minutes before without Peter because he keeps the room warm and he’s cool under the sheets (possibly because of the spider-man thing, she’s never asked).

So she waits.

She thinks about the English paper that will be her final for this semester that she only has half an idea for, and what drills AcaDec should be running for their first practice after the break, and…still no Peter.

She thinks about the pictures she spotted of Peter and Tony in the kitchen—the one of them from his internship next to one of Tony in a hospital gown, Peter on the hospital bed, his body covering Tony’s lost arm, both of them smiling with wet eyes and what it all means.

He still isn’t back yet.

She scoots over to Peter’s side of the bed and peeks her head out of the open door. There’s not even a light on in the bathroom.

Well, now she definitely has to investigate.

The cabin probably isn’t old enough for any squeaky floorboards, but she watches her step just the same, aware of every little noise in the half-dark of the night. She makes it to the stairs before she finally sees the dim glow of lights on downstairs accompanying the sound of someone talking.

“…it’s just so—messy.“

“Then explain it to me.”

She goes to her tiptoes, moving just a few steps down. On the couch she identifies the owners of the voices—the backs of Peter and Tony’s heads are silhouetted in the light of the fireplace in front of them.

“Tony…” Peter says, clearly hesitant, curling further into the couch.

“I can handle it, Pete. It’s worse for me when I don’t know what you’re going through, trust me,” Tony replies.

“I don’t even know what I’m going through,” Peter jokes, but his voice is weak, and Tony doesn’t laugh.

Peter sighs. “It was just—one thing to another. Like, I was under that building, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and then it was Titan, and I couldn’t breathe and I could feel myself—I could feel it happening and I was reaching out to you, but then you were—“

She can’t see Peter’s face, but his arm moves over his eyes, and the sleeve comes away tear-stained. He’s crying. Peter’s crying, broken, and her heart strains to do something about it, but this is—all of this is so much and she’s just overhearing it, what is she even doing?

“You were dying and I couldn’t…I heard when your heart—when you—” Peter’s words hitch into sobs, quiet and purposefully muted, like he’s scared to release them.

“Oh, buddy, no, no,” Tony brings Peter closer, his arm bundling Peter against his chest. Earlier she’d thought of what Peter might look like years from now, but now he looks smaller, younger.

The things Peter’s seen…he fought aliens in space, he was dusted and remembers it, his hero, his mentor, this man taking on Peter’s tears and pain with his whole body, his heart—another father—almost died right in front of Peter’s eyes. God, Mysterio almost put a bullet through Peter’s head for revenge—they’re still children, how can Peter handle this, how could anyone?

“Shh, I’m right here. I’m here, I’ve got you,” Tony soothes easily, like Peter is Morgan, just another one of his children seeking comfort.

“It’s okay, Pete. Everyone is okay. Just let it out, you’re okay.” Tony presses a kiss to Peter’s head, rubbing Peter’s back, so gentle, so soft, so unlike anything the world has ever shown her about Tony Stark, something precious and kind.

Something saved only for Peter, for his family.

Michelle sits at the top of the stairs for too long.

Too long thinking of every epic story Peter’s ever told about Spider-Man—the bruises he brushes off, the cuts and scrapes that he can hide away within a day, all of the times that he wins, the failures glided over as footnotes to a success story.

There’s so much she doesn’t know.

She knew he carried guilt, responsibility, but never this. This is a raw, deep wound of loss. It’s a fear scraping at him in the dark that he hides in the light. That he hides from everyone. From her.

Peter is curling into Tony for that comfort instead, burying his fears and worries into the man who brought him into all of this. If there’s anyone that could understand, of course it would be Tony.

She doesn’t know what do to with this knowing of everything she doesn’t. These are things she’s scared to know, things she wants to know anyway because they’re a part of Peter, and she wants more of him despite the sensical parts of her brain that scream for her to run off to California for college and leave dating a literal superhero that regularly risks his own life behind.

As Peter’s tears start to taper off, she stands from her place on the stairs, tip-toeing her way back up to Peter’s bedroom just as quietly as she came, leaving Tony's final whisper of, “I love you, it’s okay,” behind her.

She lies down, bringing the covers that smell of Peter's body wash up to her neck, the familiar scent comforting.

She only falls back asleep as the first dregs of sunshine begin to peek through Peter’s blinds.

Peter doesn’t come back to bed.

Unlike the day before, Thanksgiving morning is a quiet affair. A fog seems to have fallen overnight, leaving the outside of the cabin wet and hazy, matching her mood after the night before.

MJ wakes lightly a few times: the scent of coffee hits her nose, a high-pitched giggle echoes from Morgan in the hall, the sounds of doors opening and closing downstairs break the spell on and off.

If Peter enters the room to get dressed, he doesn’t wake her. She’s not sure if she wants him to or not.

There’s this—knot, buried right in the middle of her chest. Guilt for watching a private moment. Disappointed that she hadn’t thought about it sooner, that she’d let herself accept his constant assurances that he was fine, that there was nothing for her to worry about beyond the norm.

It’s Happy that ends up waking her.

“Knock, knock,” he announces, pulling open the already cracked door. Michelle doesn’t think she’s ever seen him out of a suit before now—usually he’s playing driver for them after school or hovering around Peter and May’s place, something Peter’s only become minimally more comfortable with since May and Happy's dating-ish-thing started. He’s picked a dress shirt and dark jeans instead. Not far from casually formal, but still…weird.

“Morning,” she announces from her blanket bundle, sulky and comfortable.

His eyebrow raises, wrinkling his balding hairline. “Do I wanna know?”

She shrugs.

“Okay, well, Tony and the other kids are making breakfast. Doesn’t seem like your thing, missing out on good food.”

“Are you fat-shaming a growing teenage girl?” She raises an eyebrow, her face dead serious and her tone purposefully instigating.

“Of course not, why would you—“ he catches on quickly, used to her tricks by now, her jokes that aren’t jokes. His lips hint at a smile under his goatee. “Very funny, kid.”

“I thought so.” She smiles.

“Food in ten,” Happy reiterates, turning around to shut the door.

“Happy—wait,” MJ calls, hesitant. He looks back at her expectantly, but she isn’t sure what to say without saying everything, her emotions caught in her throat.

“You—Peter’s worked with you for a while, right?”

She sits up from under the covers, ignoring the borrowed t-shirt of Peter’s hanging off of her frame and the messy wrap containing her curls. This is Peter’s family, in a way, and Happy saw her unhinged and wielding a mace back in Europe. Surely they’re at the point of being able to ignore things like appropriate dress, or whatever.

Her hands end up wringing themselves together. She’s unsure where to look—the whole room is a reminder of Peter, a collage of all the different parts—the hero, the boy, the growing man.

Happy’s facial expression questions the non-sequitur, but he redirects to Peter’s bed anyway, situating himself comfortably, probably realizing this isn’t just about what she’s asking.

“Working with, not so much. Looking after his scrawny ass…” He nudges her with his shoulder, but she doesn’t brighten up much, so he sobers.

“In the beginning, I spent a lot of time ignoring him when he needed me the most. Tony and I both did, and we both regretted it. After the Vulture, things changed. I listened to every asinine voicemail, Tony instituted lab time every other weekend…”

Happy clears his throat, his eyes honest. “Don’t tell him this, but after we lost him, I spent so much time wishing I hadn’t missed a minute of it. I kept wishing I could get him back, listen to him babble about his nerdy crap in the back of the car for just one more hour. Stupid stuff.”

“But then he came back,” she supplies.

He nods. “Then he came back. Tony was out of commission, and I promised myself that I wasn’t ever going to miss another call, even if it was just the kid rattling my ear off about free churros or a dress that he thought looked nice on you at school that day.” At the ending comment, he bumps a hand at her leg, emphasizing.

“Ugh,” she groans, but puts a hand over her mouth to hide a smile. Happy doesn’t appear fooled.

“What’s this about, Michelle?” he asks, meeting her eyes.

She sighs, crossing her arms and leaning back against the bed’s headboard.

“It’s just—after everything that’s happened, after everything you’ve seen him go through…do you think—is Peter okay?”

Something dawns on Happy’s face, followed by a somber kind of smile.

“If you ask me, the people that choose to do this kind of thing—these hero types…none of ‘em are anything close to okay. I mean, you’ve seen the kind of stuff they’re up against first hand. Weird tech, magic, aliens…it doesn’t exactly scream mental stability if you’re going towards that kind of danger.”

It’s not meant to be comforting, and he doesn’t say it as such. It’s just a fact: normal people don’t put on suits and fight bad guys and come out on the other side unscathed. That’s why so few ever do it, powers aside.

“But it does speak to a lot of heart. People didn’t understand that about Tony, when he started: you have to care about people a whole hell of a lot to want to keep saving their ungrateful asses over and over again.”

“I know that Peter cares—and I love that about him!” She blushes at the heated admission, but Happy seems content to let it go with only a kind smile. “It’s just—I didn’t realize how hard it must be on him. He doesn’t tell me how hard it is. I don’t know what to do.”

“Talk to him?” Happy suggests with dry condescension.

She frowns at him, because very clearly she’s not there yet, which is why she’s talking to him.

“I had to try,” he sighs. “Look, I know it’s hard to see someone like him going through all of this. It’s even harder when they don’t admit things are tough. Sometimes it’s just—there’s not much that you can do. We sit on the sidelines, we pitch in where we can, and when they do need us…”

He trails off, looking out Peter’s window. The lake ripples with a light rain.

“When they do need us, we show up. We show up and tell them how stupid they are for acting tough. We’re there when it matters, even when they’re being stubborn and telling us to go.”

Happy shrugs. “Well, that’s always been my tactic, anyway.”

MJ shrugs back, biting her lip. “It’s not the worst advice I’ve ever heard.”

“Tony?” he questions.

“Captain America. Those pre-recorded seminars make you want a big bag of weed more than any college stoner alive.”

Happy actually does laugh at that, patting her knee over Peter’s comforter.

“You two are good together. And I’m not just saying that cause I’m romantic or something—though I did know Pepper and Tony would be perfect together before anyone else, and you can quote me on that.” He points his finger at her, dead serious. Clearly that’s a regular argument at the Stark family get-togethers.

“He’s not going to get lost in this alone. He has too many people on his side for that. But if you need him to be more honest, you’re probably going to have to ask for it. Multiple times. Explicitly. These geniuses have concrete skulls protecting all of that brain matter.” He taps against his own head for effect.

“Yeah, I—thanks, Happy.”

“No problem,” he replies. Then he groans as he lifts himself from the bed, standing. “Now get up, or Morgan’s going to hog all of the syrup. Tony’s not above stealing from her syrup pool, but I personally think it’s an abomination.”

Despite the quiet morning, downstairs is filled with activity once she arrives, her floral dress toned down by one of her favorite grandpa sweaters, grey and a little garish.

Happy arrived with James Rhodes, apparently, as the Colonel is currently swinging Morgan around the living room like it’s a playground. Pepper and Happy are involved in something at the stove, crowded together and bickering about whatever they’re attempting not to burn. Tony is absent at the moment (out feeding their alpaca, maybe,) but Peter’s gaze finds her from his place at the counter where he’s seemingly just stealing bits of fruit out of a bowl instead of contributing.

His smile makes her feel floaty, like the department store dress and thrift store sweater are something more elegant, something he’s revering from across the room. She has value outside of his opinion, yes, but she likes his stuttering compliments, the bloom of pink on his cheeks, the tentative hand he links into her own.

Michelle likes him, might even love him one day, and she wants to get past all of this business where she’s torn up about his other life as a superhero and get back to his eager attempts to get her to full-belly laugh, holding his hand in the hallway, sneaking chaste kisses as rewards for acing flash cards.

“Hey,” Peter says, but he looks just as pensive as she feels. Maybe he knows how she’s feeling, senses it with his weird tingle-thing.

“Hey.”

They end up breaking the following silence at the same time.

“Peter, I—“

“Can we—“

She tilts her head to the porch, smiling. They’re both kind of ridiculous. “Outside?”

Peter situates himself on the porch’s bannister, swinging his legs from his perch. She chooses to lean on the wood next to him.

She’s trying to prepare exactly what she wants to say when Peter says, “I know that you were there last night. I know you heard…well, everything.”

Michelle’s eyes go wide, turning to him apologetically. Of course, his super senses. He probably heard her heartbeat.

“I really didn’t mean to pry, you just didn’t come back to bed and when I overheard you were clearly so upset and—“

“It’s okay, MJ.”

“Is it, though?” she asks curtly. “Because it didn’t seem like that was the first time something like that’s happened.”

He looks away. “It’s not.”

She nudges his side with her own, swaying him on his ledge a little.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault, bringing everything up like I did.”

“M, no, that’s not—“

She holds up a hand, asking for his silence.

“I just feel like I kept…pushing. You don’t really talk about all of this—Tony, the battle with Thanos, everything that made you want to become Spider-Man. And I realized I never really asked, either.”

She knows that she doesn’t have to take this burden on for him, but she wants him to know she’s listening, that she cares.

“I mean—Tony Stark is kind of your dad, dude! And I had no idea.”

Peter laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as if embarrassed. He also doesn’t deny it.

“It just…it made me feel like a crappy girlfriend, ‘cause I never thought about how all of that felt for you. That’s all.”

“You’re not a crappy girlfriend,” he replies, bringing her hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “Just ask Mister Stark—for all that I like talking, telling people about my problems…” He shakes his head in distaste. “I hate it. It feels like I’m just complaining.”

“Well, I personally love complaining, and would love to hear you do it more,” she says.

He lets out a breath of a laugh through his nose, but he sobers again, keeping hold of her hand and squeezing.

“The stuff with Tony…it can be hard to talk about him without mentioning everything that got us here. It’s easier to let people think what they want to.”

MJ nods, understanding. Tony has been a public figure for his entire life. It makes sense that he’s pretty insular about the people that he considers family. Anyone important can be a liability—at least, she knows that Peter also tends to see it that way.

“It’s cute that you care about my relationship with him so much, though. I didn’t realize you were so protective,” Peter teases, hopping off of the ledge and onto the porch next to her.

“Oh, shut up,” she grumbles, swaying their still-attached hands between them.

“Yeah, yeah,” he hums, smile wide across his face. He’s used to the parts of her that go hot and cold, and takes them in stride.

It feels good to have this out in the open, a previously closed door now tentatively cracked and inviting her in. It's a step closer, she thinks. A step closer to him and his world, this family he's made for himself.

A familiar look overtakes his face, and she feels a rush of warmth in her veins.

When they kiss—really kiss—it’s always tentative, a silent game of question and answer.

Peter inches closer, slow enough that she could turn away if she wanted. (She never does.)

Michelle tilts her head, reaffirming his desire. Are you sure? (He always is, his confidence always so much easier than hers.)

Together they take the final step, their movements more confident now as they’re slowly gaining practice. The slight difference of height between them often means she catches his top lip and his hands have a way of snaking around her waist, pulling them closer.

A wolf-whistle breaks them apart abruptly.

It’s Tony, walking over from what appears to be a barn not far from the lakeside, a teasing caught-the-canary smile in place.

“Well, well, look at you two,” he says, working his way up the steps with a little more pep than the day before.

“Please don’t start,” Peter begs, shrugging off the metal hand that immediately goes to ruffle his hair.

“Hey, you’re lucky it was just me. Rhodey has a real hard-on for breaking up PDA.”

“Please never say hard-on again in my presence.”

“Say it in mine,” Michelle interrupts. “I want it on camera.”

“I mean, I’m sure it already is if you look hard enough.”

Peter groans.

“I’ve never hidden my past from you, Pete. Now, Morgan—I’m hiding as much as possible from her internet searches until she’s at least sixteen.”

“I personally love the old flip-phone one of you drunkenly dancing on a bar-top to Toxic.”

“Oh, yeah! I actually remember that. Nice girl, Miss Spears.”

“I regret introducing you two,” Peter sighs, pouting.

“Love you too, kiddo,” Tony replies, opening the door ahead of them. “Now, c’mon. Happy’s going to deep-fry the turkey and you gotta watch. It’s some real Food Network shit.”

“Mommy! Daddy said your word again!” comes Morgan’s call from the living room area.

Peter shrugs to her, a smile on his face like he’s apologizing for getting her involved in all this.

She takes his hand again, giving it a squeeze before following him back into the Starks’ lake house and shutting the door.

#irondad #spiderson #spideychelle #ironfam #peter-stank #friendly-neighborhood-exchange #marvel #my writing

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fallen-gravity · 4 years

Text

Scars, Show Me All The Scars You Hide

Ford and Mabel have a talk about blame, and how too much of it can cause the heart pain.

Alternatively,

Mabel tells Ford about her encounter with Bill prior to the start of Weirdmageddon.

AO3

Everything is peaceful.

Ever since the town had been cleansed of any and all evidence that Weirdmageddon had happened at all, the small town of Gravity Falls seemed to sigh a breath of relief for the first time in decades. The birds were chirping away as the clouds from an earlier rainfall were beginning to clear. The whole atmosphere of the town still smelled of rainfall, and it seemed that half of the town’s population was out for a walk to enjoy it. Everyone in town seemed friendlier to each other, too. It was near-impossible to come across a sidewalk unoccupied by groups of people gathered in messy circles to talk.

The Shack was booming with business, far more than the morning after Gideon’s arrest. Also in great contrast was the fact that those who were stopping by the shack had little interest in tours, rather to come in to meet the family that saved the town from utter destruction. Stan had already gotten far more than his fair share of aggressive handshakes and teary-eyed hugs from citizens who’d lived in town their whole lives, while Ford stood off to the side, watching them with a quiet fondness, finally understanding what his brother had meant when he told them the Shack had been a fundamental part of the town’s history. When they had first argued over the deed to the Shack, Ford had just thought he’d been exaggerating, but it was moments like those, as well as the times he would be mistaken for Stan in public, that really opened his eyes to how much the people of this town really loved the place, and, more importantly, how much these people loved his brother.

Today might be the first lull the Shack’s seen in a solid month, and Stan had made the decision to close up shop to spend time with the family before Dipper and Mabel had to head off back home. They’d spent the entire early afternoon together, playing dumb games and watching dumb movies, and now, for the first time today, they were all off doing their own thing. It wouldn’t last, they knew, but they also couldn’t argue against the fact that sometimes comfortable silence was one of the warmest feelings on Earth.

Stan’s taking a nap on the back porch, Dipper’s in the kitchen scribbling things down in a blank notebook Ford had gifted him when he was offered the apprenticeship, and Ford was down in his basement lab, cleaning up the last of the rubble of the portal he and Stan had taken baseball bats to the night prior.

Mabel….

Mabel is pacing back and forth in the living room, stuck wondering why if everything is so peaceful and perfect, just like she’d dreamed things would be, that something still felt...off to her. Not in the sense that she’d forgotten something, or that things shouldn’t be all peachy keen, it’s more along the lines of something that’s wrong with her specifically.

She knew it couldn’t be a lack of sleep, because she’d fallen asleep in Grunkle Stan’s lap during one of the movies earlier. It could be that she’s sad to be leaving in a week, she supposes, but no, they hadn’t been talking much about her and Dipper’s departure lately, and she’d already made both Stan and Ford pinky promise her that the two of them could spend the following summer in Gravity Falls, so that couldn’t be it either…

“Mabel?” Dipper asks, startling her out of her thoughts, and she freezes in her pacing. He’s carrying his notebook under one arm, and his favorite blue pen is poking out of his hair from behind his ear. Nerd. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know…” Mabel admitted, rubbing at her arm. “I know that everything’s all sunshine and rainbows now that Bill’s gone for good, but I don’t feel like sunshine and rainbows”

“Oh, Mabel…” Dipper frowned, placing his book on the armrest of Stan’s chair. “Is it because we’re leaving so soon? I know Stan already promised us we could stay here whenever we needed, but I thought you missed Mom and Dad”

“I do miss them!” Mabel shot her arms in the air. “I miss everyone at home. But I don’t think that’s what’s bugging me so much”.

Dipper frowns, and takes a seat in Stan’s chair, indicating he wasn’t going to leave the room until he could figure out what was bugging her himself. “Well...what do you think it is?”

“I don’t know!” Mabel whined, bringing her hand to her forehead as if she had a bad headache. “I’m thrilled that everything’s okay, I’m thrilled that Stan and Ford are best friends again, and I’m thrilled that we get to come back next summer, but I...can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. I haven’t been able to since the morning Stan woke up with his memories intact”

“Mabel, that was two days ago!”

“I know, I know…” Mabel begins pacing again. “But I just thought that it was just cause I was so stressed he was gonna relapse again, or that something else terrible was gonna happen, or-”

The small crunch of a piece of paper interrupts her before she can finish her train of thought, and when she looks down to see what she’d stepped on she realizes it’s an early draft of the invitation cards for her and Dipper’s birthday party.

Her face goes pale at the sight.

“Mabel, are you okay?” Dipper stands to reach out for her shoulder. “You’re not looking too hot…”

“I know what it is” she says, before he can touch her, and he retracts his hand.

“You do? Can you tell me?”

Mabel takes a few looks around the room to make sure that they’re alone.

“Follow me,” she says, but then she grabs Dipper by the hand and runs up the stairs to their attic bedroom.

“Mabel, what’s happening?” Dipper asks her as she locks the room behind her. “You’re acting a lot like...me”

“It’s all my fault”

“What? What’s all your fault?”

The concern in her brother’s tone makes her choke up for reasons she can’t describe. “Weirdmageddon”, she shutters. “It’s all my fault”.

“What?” Dipper’s voice squeaks, which makes Mabel flinch. “Mabel, don’t say that! Of course it’s not your fault!”

“Yes it is,” she mopes, and plops herself down onto her bed. “Bill came after me when I ran into the woods, and I gave him that weird snow-globe looking thing.” She buries her face in her pillow, but she doesn’t wait for her brother to respond before she keeps going. “It wasn’t out of anger, or anything, I swear. He possessed that Blendin guy and promised me an eternal summer in exchange, and I handed it over because I’m a big dummy dumb, and everyone got hurt because I thought I wanted time to freeze forever so we wouldn’t have to be apart”

For a brief moment there’s silence, but then Dipper’s hand on her shoulder. When she pulls her face out of her pillow to look at him, it’s all wet and gooey. “Mabel, are you kidding? I thought the rift shattered in your backpack. I thought for sure it was because you tripped, and everything exploded out of your backpack. I thought you were a goner”.

Mabel sniffles, but she doesn’t respond.

“Mabel, your story is so much better than the ones I was making up in my head. I mean, I wish Bill had never tracked you down at all, but I’m so glad you weren’t hurt.” He pulls her into a hug. “Great Uncle Ford and I were just talking about this the other morning, Mabel. He was worried sick that he’d hurt you taking it by force”

“You’re…” she stutters, returning the hug. “You’re not mad?”

“Of course not” he shakes his head. “I meant what I said in Mabeland. Whatever happens, we get through it together”.

She giggles and pulls away from the hug, wiping at her face with her sleeves. “But...what about Grunkle Ford?”

Dipper shakes his head. “You should tell him too. He’s gonna be understanding, Mabel, he already knows how much Bill had it out for us personally”

That’s...true, she supposes, shuttering at the memory of her and Dipper offering themselves up as bait so Bill wouldn’t kill their Grunkles. She stands to exit the room, gives her brother one more hug for good luck, and and repeats Dipper’s words to herself the entire way down the staircase and into the gift shop. The stairs to the basement are propped open, which she assumes is because Ford no longer feels he needs to keep its location a secret. She makes her way down slowly, partly out of nerves and partly to avoid spooking Ford.

He’ll understand, she says to herself one last time as she exits the elevator. Ford’s sitting at the work desk, and the view of the portal in the next room is blocked off with a curtain. He’s hunched over, just a little bit, and Mabel figures it’s probably because he’s writing something in one of the journals. It’s only as she approaches him that she realizes he’s not wearing his trench coat, because she can tell that he rolled the sleeves of his sweaters up to make for easier writing.

“Grunkle Ford?” she asks, knocking lightly on the machine closest to her right in case calling his name isn’t enough to snap him out of his focus.

“Mabel!” his response is cheery, and he places a bookmark on the page he’d been working on and closes the cover. “What brings you down here?”

“Well, I...guess I wanted to talk to you about something”.

“Sure, anything” he grins, patting at his pant leg in invitation to come sit on his lap. Mabel sighs, tries to think for a moment about how she can place things lightly, and takes Ford up on his offer. She crawls up onto his lap, opens her mouth to speak, and freezes when she notices that his wrist is covered in cuts and blistering scars. A quick glance at the other wrist and she’s met with the same sight.

“Grunkle Ford?” is all she can manage, and her eyes follow hers to the scars on her wrist.

“Oh!” he replies, much cheerier than she’d expected him to, and rolls his sleeves back down. “I’m going to be fine, sweetie, those will heal in due time”.

“What happened to you?” she looks up at him with her signature puppy eyes. “How recent are these?”

From her spot on his lap, Mabel can feel Ford’s chest rise and fall as he sighs quietly. “You have to promise me you won’t tell Stan,” he says, rubbing delicately at his wrist. Mabel nods silently, and his eyes fall to the ground to avoid eye contact with his niece.

“Bill did this to me. When he was demanding that I give him the codes to undo the bubble around the town, he chained me by my arms and legs and fried me until I talked. I’m so sorry that you had to come across them by accident, but, uh, I’m grateful that you saw them today, rather than earlier. I nearly threw up when I saw them for the first time after I was freed”

Mabel’s breath hitches, and she’s tearing up. It’s getting harder and harder to convince herself that It’s not your fault could be a true statement when everyone she cares about is getting hurt by it. Bill fried him. Bill chained him up and fried him, and if the scars on his wrists are just from the chains, she can’t even begin to imagine what the scars must look like under the rest of his sweater. He must be completely disfigured from the neck down, if she knows anything about Bill. He’d tried to kill her two other times prior to Weirdmageddon, but those were over much less risky things than control over the whole universe.

She throws herself against Ford’s sweater in a fit of choked sobs, and his arms are around her before she can even finish processing that she’s crying again.

“There, there, Mabel” Ford’s voice is cool and collected, but tinged with sadness to see her break down like this for the second time in three days. He rubs gentle circles into her back, quietly shushing her sobs, and the tender gesture of it all just makes Mabel cry even harder. “It’s okay, Mabel. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m safe, thanks to you”. He gently pats her hair, and Mabel sniffles as she pulls away. Ford keeps his hand where it is, at the top of her head, and she hates how much of a grounding feeling it is.

“It’s not okay!” She yells, and more tears pour down her face. “You’re hurting! Bill could’ve killed you!” she gasps for air. “If we had shown up just five minutes later than we did, you could’ve been a goner!” She takes his other wrist, which was still wrapped around her to prevent her from falling off of his lap, and rolls it up to reveal the identical scar he’d just covered up moments ago. “These look worse than the time I pulled a tray of cupcakes out of the oven with my bare hands cause I was too excited to wait for them! I thought I was never gonna feel anything ever again!” She cries.

“Mabel, sweetie…”

“No!” she cries. “I don’t deserve to be called that. It’s all my fault he hurt you.” Her sobs quiet as her body seems to double-whammy her and send her into a panic attack, trembling uncontrollably against Ford’s chest. “It’s my fault”

There’s a gentle six-fingered hand on her cheek, and she looks up to warm brown eyes staring into hers with heartbroken worry. “It’s not your fault, my dear, Bill and I have a really complicated history together. Nothing you could’ve done would’ve changed that”

“That’s exactly my point! Bill may not have acted any differently, but I still could’ve!”

“What do you mean?”

Mabel wipes away her tears with her wrist again.

“It’s my fault everything happened in the first place. I’m the reason Bill got his hands on the...uh...rift, I think Dipper called it” she sniffles. “Bill caught up to me when I was all upset in the woods about arguing with Dipper, and told me he could fix things if I gave it to him, and I-”

She’s cut off by Ford’s hug around her tightening, like she just unlocked a set of keywords that’d make him never want to let go of her again.

“Mabel, I want you to listen to me very carefully”

She doesn’t say anything, but squeezes him in silent confirmation to let him know she’s still listening.

“Nothing that happened was your fault, okay? I need you to understand how genuine that statement is. It wouldn’t matter if Bill convinced you to smash the rift into the ground yourself. It wouldn’t matter if you handed it over without question, or if you shook his hand.”

“But-”

“Let me finish” he cuts her off, but the soft nature in his tone lets her know he isn’t upset. “Mabel, it doesn’t matter who said or did what because this is exactly how Bill liked to play his games. He knew you wouldn’t be thinking straight, he knew you wouldn’t question anything he asked you to do.” he reaches under his glasses to wipe at his own eyes. “He did the same thing to me when I was younger, Mabel. I called him my best friend. He convinced me to hang onto every word he ever said without giving them a second thought”

He pulls her away from the hug so he can look her in the eyes again. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever encountered in any dimension, Mabel. Don’t blame yourself for the mistakes I made when I was younger. If there’s anyone that should be blamed for the whole ordeal besides Bill, it should be me.”

“Grunkle Ford, don’t say that!”

He laughs quietly, bitterly. “I should have told you about the rift earlier, Mabel. I’m sorry I kept it a secret from you”

“It’s okay,” she replies. “I know that you were just trying to keep me safe. Stan had to keep a lot of things from me, too”.

“No kidding…” Ford’s voice drifts off, which makes Mabel painfully aware of the fact she was currently holding a conversation with one of said things. He shakes his head. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that pitting all of the blame on yourself isn’t going to do you any good.” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “...Stan and I had to learn that one the hard way. If you focus too much on the idea that all you’ve done is hurt people, you miss out on all of the times you’ve done good for other people.”

He smiles warmly.

“Dipper told me you were the one who stopped the portal from shutting down. I’m not sure I’d even still be alive if it weren’t for you. You’ve done so much good for the people you care about that anything else is nonexistent in comparison. You’re a wonderful person, Mabel, inside and out. If there ever were a person out there who truly was pure of heart, I can say in all honesty that I think it’d be you”.

Mabel’s on the verge of crying again. She throws herself at him in another hug, and he’s quick to hug her back.

“You’re a wonderful person too, Grunkle Ford. I don’t want you to forget that either”.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear she could hear him sniffle at the remark.

#my writing #gravity falls

22 notes · View notes

musedblues · 4 years

Text

Between The Lines

a/n: Here it is! Nothing but pinning and fluff for the much anticipated STL Event! This is my gift for the lovely wonderful @joemazzmatazz I really hope you enjoy this, lovie! And I hope that your day is beautiful regardless of this silly little holiday. 💖

w/c: 6k

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It was Valentine's day. Usually, you were only excited about the day that followed, when all the chocolates went on sale. But this year your roommate had plans to throw some big ridiculous party. Tilly had been planning this bash for over a month now, and you had agreed to help set up and mingle with mutual friends. But until later tonight, you had far too much more to worry over.

"I've gotta go get Joe from the airport." You sighed, sliding your arms into a thick jacket.

"Oh," Tilly realized with a playful roll of her eyes. You let out a frustrated mewl at her disregard as you scrambled to grab your purse.

"I just don't get it." Tilly continued smirking. "Why are you nervous, again?"

"Because." You hissed. "I've gotta tell him. And I don't want to."

Tilly must have registered the true dread bubbling closer to the forefront of your system; because she slouched closer to the door as you stepped out into the hallway. She said, "You have no reason to be nervous. Trust me."

Oh, but how wrong she was. Since Joe had up and left overseas to film his latest project, you missed him. But you came to realize the magnitude of your feelings for your dear friend smack dab in the middle of a grocery store's freezer section, last month. After spending too long debating on ice cream flavors, you chose cherry, because Joe loved cherry and you loved him. Oh shit. The thought seamlessly pieced itself together in your mind as if it were a fact as clear as any other. You raced home in a panic and spilled your guts to Tilly like she was a priest and you, a dirty sinner. Your roommate helped you through that night, and several more that followed when you regretfully avoided Joe's phone calls. You were afraid of letting your true feelings seep through the phone speaker, or at all. But time was up. You had agreed to fetch your dear friend from the airport some odd weeks ago, and according to the time on your phone, his flight just landed.

Joe deserved to know how you felt, so why not rip the plaster off right away? He'd be pissed if you kept this from him for too long, and you couldn't act like everything was fine. You knew you had to tell him. You just really didn't want too.

As you slid into the driver seat of your car, you reached toward the visor for the pair of sunglasses you stashed there. From out of nowhere a tiny piece of canary yellow stock paper came fluttering into your lap like confetti.

"Oh, wonderful." You huffed a laugh. It was a note from Joe. He was always stashing these tiny pieces of yellow paper in odd places for you to find later, with silly little sentiments jotted down. This one read:

"You're only a day away!"

He must have left this one before he left to go film.

Some notes Joe left were inside jokes. Some were thank you's for dinner. Some were doodles of dinosaurs and maps. You kept them all in a ball jar on your dresser. But all you could do with the latest note was stash it in your jacket pocket with a frustrated groan as you began to drive off.

It all started the first night you went out to dinner with your hoard of mutual friends, who were the only reason you'd met Joe in the first place. They each left one by one, and soon you and Joe were alone with a basic knowledge of each other's existence, finishing dinner at a six-person table. By the end of the night, you'd exchanged life stories and ended up rambling over the topic of arcade games. You marveled over how fun they seemed growing up, but how you came to understand the sad reality that most arcades were just scams to collect change in disguise. But then Joe brought up some bowling alley he swore had a rigged Pacman machine that spit out tickets that won some above-average prizes. He decided he would invite your group of friends there, next weekend. Then, he exchanged his phone number on a slip of canary yellow stock paper because your phone had died and he left his in the car.

The following weekend you met up with all your friends at that bowling alley. They were shocked to see you'd come out of hiding two weekends in a row, and invited you to pick a team to bowl to the death. But then you locked eyes with Joe, walked past the lanes and headed straight for the arcade in the back. Joe had been right about the rigged Pacman. He showed you how to pause the ghosts by holding down a broken button to cheat. But after racking up mega points, the machine was out of tickets. You both presented this sob story to the jaded arcade prize gatekeeper, who simply did not care. Not like you did, either. Even though you had your eye on a silly looking plush green crocodile from the midlevel prizes; the time you'd spent with Joe was reward enough for you.

He called it a night soon after, leaving you with the few friends who couldn't be stopped from bowling. You joined their team, even though you already felt like you'd won something.

You were at ease that evening as you headed toward the dusty car park.

You notice something was resting against your windshield. You were alarmed enough to wonder if this was one of those trafficking tricks, where a kidnapper left something for you to be distracted by long enough to snatch you. But then you noticed just under your windshield wiper, a canary yellow slip of stock paper. It read:

"Sorry I couldn't win you the alligator you insisted was a crocodile. Hope this will do until next time."

Next to where Joe had left the note, you found a tiny keychain with a neon green frog attached. It wasn't quite the river monster you'd been hoping for, but Joe had left it just for you, alongside a note; the latter of which would become a tradition. You stashed both mementos in your pocket and wondered when you'd see Joe again.

One long year had passed by, and you managed to see Joe at least once a week since those first fateful meetings. You added the frog charm to your keychain. And every time, without fault, Joe would leave behind a note for you to find.

You spent days accidentally snowed inside each other apartments. He bought you Christmas presents and you took him out for his birthday. You watched terrible movies for fun and wound up alone together even in the midst of your group of friends, who were the reason you'd known Joe at all. You'd seen each other cry and fought over things that did and didn't matter. But it wasn't until he flew across the ocean for a while that you realized exactly why you missed him so much.

Considering the time you'd spent with Joe, practically attached at the hip, your heart sunk at the realization that if anything romantic had been blossoming between you, Joe would have done something about it by now. But you had to tell him how you were feeling, waiting any longer would only complicate things further. So as you pulled up to the airport gates and marched into the waiting area, you practiced a speech in your head one thousand different ways. There was a swarm of people buzzing in different directions hardly paying you any mind, but soon one voice cut through the crowd.

"It's you! It's really you! You haven't aged a day in the hundred years I've been gone!"

You spun toward the sound of Joe's excitable greeting and barely caught a glimpse of his bright smile before he was pulling you into a hug. You couldn't help but laugh as you hugged him back, welcoming the boy home, but selfishly longing to be so much nearer to him all at once. Oh no. This was too weird.

"Welcome back." You grinned as Joe reached for his suitcase once more. He was still smiling that stupidly pleasant smile.

"That's all I get?" He playfully jeered. "No, 'I almost died of boredom without you? '"

A nervous chuckled escaped your throat as Joe started walking toward the sliding doors, right up to your car right outside.

"Uh, actually... I. Well." You began, sheepishly following Joe out of the airport. "I was going to tell you something but we can worry about it later." You feigned passivity, all the things you practiced to say melting off the page in your mind. That wasn't the plan, but the words were out before you could think of reforming them.

"What? You found someone funnier than me to add cometary to hallmark movies?" Joe quirked a brow.

"Impossible." You assured, opening your back car door so he could lift his luggage inside. "How was your time?" You scurried to change the subject, not really sure what happened to the plan you'd promised yourself to stick by.

Joe didn't seem to notice your internal battel as he eased into your passenger seat, already rambling about where he'd been and what he'd done. You listened with care, truly interested in knowing what he had to say. But one half of your mind buzzed with worry and confusion while you drove Joe home.

You unlocked his door while he managed his luggage from your car. When Joe made his way inside you remembered the plans you'd made for the rest of the evening. He was apart of the group chat where your roommate birthed the idea for her Valentine's day party. Joe was invited, and one late night over the phone (before you started having this strange crisis) you offered to spend the rest of this afternoon with Joe so he could hitch a ride with you to the party.

"So Tilly's party isn't until nine, now. I promised to pick up Zoey and Lyla and stop for dinner someplace." You chatted naturally as any other time you'd spoken to Joe. Regardless of your feelings, Joe was still your friend and you had plans. You naturally expected Joe to shrug and agree like he always did when your shared plans became altered. He was standing before you, bright forest colored eyes searching your face as his usually permanent grin began to fade.

"Actually..." Joe frowned, flicking his eyes to the floor then back up to yours. "Well, is it okay if I just meet up with you where you stop for dinner? I kind of need to do something. Alone."

"Oh... sure." You tried to hide the shot through your heart as you processed this. Of course, he wanted to show up alone. Lyla always had a thing for Joe, never one to hold back her lingering stares. Joe was single and it was Valentine's day. And right now, you had to pretend like you couldn't care less.

"Thank you for picking me up, Y/N. Text me where to find you." Joe shifted, dawning a little smile.

"Of course, Joe." You smiled brightly, stepping out of the already opened door.

"I'll see you tonight! And you can tell me whatever it was you mentioned earlier!" Joe promised as you skipped down the steps toward your car.

"It doesn't matter anymore!" You waved a hand, opening the driver door, trying like mad to remain casual. Shit. Why did I say that? You just dug a deeper hole for yourself.

"Oh. Well okay! See you later!" Joe waved from the door, shutting it as your engine started.

Okay... Was it just you and your twisted, jumbled up mind, or was Joe acting weird, too? Maybe he picked up on your vibe and didn't want to spend any more time near you than he had too. You boggled your brain all the way home, wondering why you were such a wimp. When you unlocked your apartment door, Tilly was pinning bright red cartoon hearts across the living room wall.

"Oh." She cocked her head at your arrival as you shut the door behind you. "You're alone."

"He's meeting up with us later, I guess."

"You guess?" Tilly wondered in a curious tone.

"I didn't tell him." You huffed, kicking your shoes off.

"You were supposed to bring him here either way! He said he'd help decorate." Your roommate pouted, nodding toward a box of Valentine-themed tinsel on the sofa.

"This is all a bit ridiculous don't you think?"

Tilly's excuse was that every holiday deserved a party, even the one couples famously spent alone together. You proceeded to help decorate, draping streamers and tossing flower petals in place. Your roommate made 'Love Potion' with peach schnapps, red grapefruit juice, and vodka, while you jammed strawberries onto the side of clear plastic cups.

"I'll be handing these out. Take your pick." Tilly held out a bin full of plastic headbands. Some were pink with cartoon hearts attached to a couple of cheap springs, like an Instagram filter come to life. Others were deep red devil horns covered in glitter. You just rolled your eyes and went on setting up snacks.

"When are you going to tell him?" Tilly asked from across the room as she placed her bin of headgear on a table near the door.

"Oh, you know what?" You raised the pitch of your voice. "I think I'll do it right in the middle of your bangin' Valentine's party." You pointed toward Tilly, as if this idea had just come to you like a message from cupid himself. Tilly let out a dry mocking, "Ha Ha."

"You can break out that Prince vinyl, and I'll stand on the coffee table and rip my own heart out in front of everyone!" You really hoped you sounded more like you were joking, and less like you wanted to cry.

"I'm sure we'd all love a bit of a show. But babe, it's gonna be okay." Tilly softened.

"Isn't it funny how you keep saying that and I keep on feeling the opposite way?" You groaned, abandoning the kitchen past a doorway full of shiny maroon ribbon.

"You have exactly an hour to dress up for seduction!" Tilly comically hollered your way, skipping toward her bedroom.

"You mean confession!" You shouted back, sulking toward your own room. After shutting the door, you unearthed Joe's latest note from your pocket. The one that fell from your visor. How hadn't you found it sooner? Without too much thought, you opened the jar on your dresser where other notes had been collecting and went about getting ready.

You stared into your closet for far too long, almost talking yourself into throwing on a pair of leggings and calling it a day. But then you found an unassuming longsleeved dress, one that was passable in the cut-throat world of party fashion, but somehow remained supremely comfortable. It would do.

Then you hurried to fetch your friends from across town. Zoey and Lyla were dressed in tight velvet and equally as confused when you showed up to their door without Joe. "He's never not with you." Zoey pointed out. "Is he okay?" Lyla worried. This only made your heart hammer despite all your efforts to pretend everything was perfectly fine.

You pulled into a shitty diner because Zoey wanted breakfast for dinner. Both girls were enjoyable company, laughing over memes and telling you their latest gossip. The three of you were nearly through your meals when Joe finally showed up to join the party. He was dressed for the occasion, in a cozy blue sweater and dark jeans. You had to turn and sip your soda to keep from staring. Joe slid into your side of the booth with an arm across the seat, trapping you into his side and unknowingly making your guts twist up. Lyla seemed unusually unassuming. Every time before now, when Joe was in her line of sight, Lyla hardly ever hesitated to throw her self near him. You wondered why the hell everyone was being so insanely weird tonight, but then the thought brought you comfort, hoping you weren't alone in all the unease.

While Zoey and Lyla waited in a long queue to pay, Joe dragged you around the corner to an empty section of the diner. For just a moment, Joe stalled and looked to you with a barely noticeable furrow in his brow. It was as if he had something to say but forgot in a flash. Just when you were about to question Joe's antics, he turned away from you and walked deeper into the unused room. There was a giant, brightly painted claw machine in the corner, stuffed with prizes of the highest caliber.

"I dont have any quarters." You frowned, looking toward your friend. His smirk was back, the one you'd missed seeing all this time. Joe just chuckled, reached into his pocket and stepped up to play the game.

You should have been distracting him with a joke. You should have been saying something. He dragged you all the way back here to be apart of the fun. But all thoughts faded while you kept an eye on your dear friend. Joe was surprisingly good at operating the machine, eyes focused on the claw, fingers moving the control in just the right direction. It was becoming a challenge to keep your lovesick thoughts from burning your skin.

Joe broke out into a celebratory jig when the claw latched onto some plush toy and you laughed all the while, snapping back to reality. Joe retrieved a small plush bear from the prize slot and tossed it your way. You caught the thing without missing a beat, but the action caused your head to clog up all over again.

Luckily, Zoey and Lyla popped around the corner, excited to leave for your roommates long-awaited Valentine's day party. You kept a hold of the claw machine prize while you drove the girls in your car, watching Joe's following close behind.

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. With the plush bear dangling by its paw from your grasp, you led your crew inside. Past guests who had all already shown up, mostly Tilly's friends. Men with sharp jawlines and nice cologne. Girls in tight dresses, lingerie peeking out from hemlines. And a couple of people you knew, offering hugs and demanding selfies in their matching themed headbands.

Your friends grabbed some from the bin next to the door. Joe chose a headband with cartoon hearts but turned to put it on your head like a crown. All you could do was hope to high heavens that you weren't blushing.

"Snacks in the kitchen. Don't forget to try the 'Love Potion' it's actually pretty good." You shrugged, passing a massive bowl of pink alcohol nestled behind a row of already filled cups. Joe grabbed one as he followed your lead.

"Everyone is in there." You gestured toward the living room entryway, where a group of girls lingered, taking selfies. Zoey and Lyla scurry hand in hand into the dim dance party.

"And you should be too! Nice of you to finally make it." Tilly twirled into your vision, toting an empty tray, her sequined dress sparkling right in your eye.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Joe greeted with a smile. She gave him a half-hearted hug, complaining about running out of finger foods. Your roommate loaded her tray with cups full of candy hearts and dashed back into the room where the party raged on.

The kitchen was empty and quiet now. You reached for a skewer of cherries and plucked one off to eat. A distraction.

"You look really nice. I like this." Joe actually honest to God tugged at the hem of your dress. And somehow, you magically managed to keep from fainting into a puddle.

"Thanks. You too." You shrugged, eating another cherry. You were being weird again. Usually, you'd make a joke or sashay around the kitchen to show off your look. But your feelings were collected in a mess of worried thoughts, and you were being weird. You knew Joe noticed, but if he cared, that didn't show. He just downed his 'Love Potion' and reached for two wine glasses from the rack near your stove.

"The usual?" He asked in a funny voice, already reaching for the bottles of wine on your counter.

"Of course."

You liked white wine, but not too sweet. He liked red wine, but not too bitter. So you learned one night, to mix them together. Everyone around you practically shrieked in terror, because of etiquette or whatever. But you and Joe eventually figured out the perfect proportion to mix, and he made a show of it every time. You were laughing again, as Joe poured each wine in a separate glass and went on pouring one into the other until he was satisfied. It was like watching a middle schooler at a science fair. He offered you one of the experiments and leaned across the counter to enjoy his own glass.

Then you settled into conversation, like always. He talked about his flight. You bit your tongue. You kept waiting for Joe to mention anything about being occupied earlier. Where he might have gone and why. But he never did. So why did he skip out from you in the middle of the afternoon? And why was he acting like nothing was strange at all? Why was Joe standing in the kitchen with you, instead of flirting with one of Tilly's pretty friends with sparkly devil horned headbands peeking through their silky hair?

Your intrusive thoughts were quieted as Joe asked about you. And somehow you both stared laughing about stupid old jokes, reaching for another love potion and gripping a little tighter to the plush bear in your fist.

When Tilly turned off too many lights and cranked up some tasteless raunchy record, Joe rolled his eyes. You watched him move to the other end of the kitchen, snatching the two bottles of wine, and an unopened box of frosting covered cookies.

"Come on!" He snickered, clearly headed right toward your room. You giggled, pushing yourself from the counter to follow behind him, toward your bedroom.

Usually, when Joe hung out at your flat, you'd had to hide away in your room together often. At first, because Tilly would bring dates home who couldn't keep their hands to themselves far past the living room couch. Later on, because it became a normal and relaxing spot to unwind.

So when you shut and locked the door, to keep any drunken partiers from breaking in, it didn't feel weird. And it wasn't unnatural the way Joe flung himself toward your bed. He reached across the empty blanket-covered space to grab your remote. You ripped off your stupid cartoon heart headband and rested it on the dresser with your plush bear, the same space the jar of notes had taken residence.

Before you knew it, Joe had queued up 10 Things I Hate About You, kicked off his shoes and settled in for one of your favorite stories. Naturally, you floated to his side and tore into the tin of iced cookies, much like any other normal movie night with your friend.

Joe made you screech like a loon, adding his own commentary and laughing too hard to even go on doing so. Maybe it was the wine, but either way, it was paradise. And Joe always made you laugh that hard. Between the sweets and all the wine, You and Joe nearly laughed yourselves sick. When the film cut to the scene where Kat was meant to read her poem, Joe lunged for the remote and clicked pause.

"Okay, name ten things you hate about me, Go!" Joe laughed, laying back and looking up to where you sat cross-legged, sipping some water you'd earlier filled your cup with from your bathroom sink.

"One..." You thought for a second, glancing at the bottle Joe kept a loose clutch on. "That you're hogging all the wine." You laughed, swiping the bottle from his grasp. He gave it up easily, chuckling with you.

"Nine more to go." Joe rose a brow, searching your eyes as you held the wine bottle to your chest. You couldn't think of anything besides the way Joe's eyes peered into yours, how they still seemed so bright in your low lit bedroom. You were suddenly a little too flustered by the sight of Joe laying against your pillows.

"I can't think of anymore." You looked away from Joe's gaze and took a swig of wine right from the bottle.

"I'm sure that's not true," Joe chuckled again, egging you onto listing off the things he did that annoyed you. But you couldn't seem them right now, you couldn't see much of anything past the way your eyes fogged over with a rosy sheen.

"I dont hate you, Joe." There you went again, speaking without thinking and letting your tone reveal more than intended. You hadn't even considered a response before that one came tumbling past your lips, like a half-hearted confession. It was quiet then, with the movie on pause. Even the heavy thrum of music from past your closed-door seemed light-years away.

"What were you going to tell me? Earlier?" Joe asked, propping himself up a little so his eyes could catch yours again.

"Oh uh- no. Nope, not yet. I should probably wait." You decided, feeling vile for admitting you had something to say but holding it hostage all because you were suddenly not at all ready to give up this moment. You figured Joe would catch on to any way you acted trying to hide your feelings, but when you froze up, Joe had yet to call you out. So now you were trapped in feeling too frightened to give any of this up. Say how you felt would ruin all the fun. You didn't want to confess, watch Joe leave and spend the night locked away alone while strangers made out in the hallway outside your door.

Thankfully, Joe didn't push you any further. He just watched you watching him. You knew better than to say another word. But then, Joe shifted. He slid off the side of your bed onto the floor beside you, kneeling with one knee on the ground.

"What the hell are you up to?" You couldn't help but cackle, out of nerves mostly. Joe had that look in his eye, the one he got before telling you a story or showing you something he was proud of.

He reached into his back pocket.a Joe pulled out a pretty velvet wallet. He held it out in front of you.

"I uh... I tried to give this to you at the diner. Unzip." Joe demanded, still holding onto the thing.

You glared suspiciously out of the corner of your eye, taking a beat to try and figure out what this is all about. After setting your bottle of wine on your bedside table, you did as he said. Inside the wallet was a tiny yellow note.

It read "Happy Valentine's Day" in Joe's writing. Nothing more. Nothing less. It was the first note he'd given you in ages, even though you'd only just found the last one he left, today... This one felt different. Your heart seemed to grow three sizes as you glanced over his holiday greeting once more.

"It always takes you way too long to find my notes. Keep this with you, I'll put them in here for you to find, from now on." Joe explained with a sleepy smile.

"I do." You mocked his kneeling on one knee, ignoring the butterflies multiplying in your belly. Joe's smile was soft as he slowly shifted to sit on the edge of your bed next to you.

"There's something else in there." His voice nearly caught in his throat, it was so quiet. The muffled music from the party outside your door was beating as heavily as your heart inside your chest. Joe was so close to you that you could practically feel him, just far enough away to leave you wishing you really could.

You let those thoughts seep into the back of your mind while you reached into the wallet once more. You pulled out another piece of trimmed stock paper. This note was an unusual shade of tea green, and three words were meticulously scrawled in dark marker.

"I love you."

I love you?

"Joe..."

"I 've had this plan forever, but I started overthinking everything. So I waited till the last minute and I had to go buy more of this paper and I felt really bad about sending you away without earlier any explanation. But I wanted you to have this. It's like a promise. You keep the wallet, I'll keep giving you these notes." Joe gestured toward the gift as you gapped at him. "And also I love you. I know it's a cheesy holiday but it doesn't matter, I couldn't as hold it in any longer and I wanted to do something for you anyway but I didn't wanna freak you out and -"

"That's what I was gonna say. Earlier. I was gonna tell you that I'm in love with you. But then I got scared. I... I never thought you'd. .. " You look back down at the note. His confession.

"Well, I do."

"You really love me?"

"I love you a whole fuckin' lot."

"I love you." You grinned in near disbelief. The irony of this situation was almost unreal. Joe was here, something you'd been so nervous about. If only you could have spoken up at the airport, maybe this day would have gone differently. But a wave of affection washed over you thinking back to Joe's sweet presentation. You wouldn't have wanted this day to have gone differently, after all.

And slowly, you both leaned in. Joe was the first to brush his lips against yours. You pressed yours back with all the care in the world. That must have been enough of a confirmation for Joe, as he moved to cradle your head in his hands while proceeding to part your lips and kiss you like a soldier coming home after too long gone. Your head spun as you registered the way he smelt like fancy cologne and the way his fingertips pressed into your head, pulling your lips closer to his. You thought of nothing but the way he kissed you, warmly and deeply. You lifted a hand to rest on his shoulder. But you couldn't tell if it was because you longed to touch him, or if you needed the extra support from how dizzy his kisses were making you. But they slowed after then and turned into lingering pecks. As you parted ways to catch your breath, you glanced to his gift still in your grasp.

"Thank you for this, Joe." He looked to the wallet you'd fixed your gaze on. "You've got a lot of notes to catch up on, ya know?" Joe had been gone for longer than you allowed yourself to keep track, feeling void grow vaster every day he wasn't around.

"I hope those two will suffice for now," Joe smirked, searching your face. His eyes were still sleepy but they were filled with all kinds of multitudes; flecks of gold and green you'd always wanted to look at a little longer each time your eyes managed to meet his.

"They're the best notes you've ever left me." You beamed, glancing at Joe with a wide smile. Then you were struck with the realization that everything still felt normal. Exceptionally normal. Tilly was right when she warned you not to worry. You rested the wallet on your side table next to a bottle of wine and turned back to throw yourself toward Joe, wrapping him in a hug that was more like a tackle. He laughed at your antics, chuckles dying down when you pressed your lips against his, again. Joe gave you a sweet kiss back before he broke out into quiet laughs once more.

"Were you really gonna lay all that on me at the airport, earlier? Why didn't you? We could have gone viral on Facebook, or something." Joe teased. Yep, still normal.

Even though some shitty pop music still blasted from the living room, you reached for the remote to start the movie over and turned up the volume. The rest of the night faded into some pulsing daydream version of all the things you longed to do with Joe. Lingering touches you'd never let yourself wish for, because you were so sure they'd never come true. Sweet, hot kisses that each lasted a little longer each time you met again after pausing to breathe. You laughed the whole night long, about how you stopped Joe from leaving marks on your neck long enough for you to focus on your favorite part of the movie. You laughed over one of Joe's stupid puns. You muffled your giggles when some drunken party people tried their luck at your locked door handle. You marveled the colors Joe was made up of and he traced every shape of you, with focused eyes and a smile you could have gazed at forever. After the deed was done, and done again, you ended up wearing Joe's sweater, polishing off the last of the wine from the bottle. Joe had somehow found that stupid Valentine's day themed headband (the one with the cartoon hearts) and wore it a little crooked while he snacked on those cookies he'd stolen from the party earlier. He actually ate the last cookie, even as you protested. You were actually kind of hungry, by now.

So once you noted that the music from the living room had been turned off for a while, and noticing the clock on your wall ready somewhere around 2 in the morning, you had no qualms with sneaking to the kitchen for a midnight snack. You collected all the trash you'd accumulated and skipped out of your bedroom door as quiet as a mouse, really hoping some of the fruit skewers were left. There were a couple of guys passed out in the frame of the hallway entry, and you had to maneuver around a few more sleeping beauties in the living room. By the time you rid your arms of two empty wine bottles and an empty tin of cookies, someone else pushed open the kitchen door.

"Holy shit, I thought everyone was asleep." You gasped with a hand on your chest, watching Tilly groggily shuffling toward the refrigerator.

"Fuck!" She cursed weakly. "Someone stole my Gatorade."

"Take one of my coconut smoothies from the back." You shrugged, knowing your roommate only sought to prevent feeling like shite in the morning.

"God, you're an angel." Tilly croaked as you snagged the last skewer of cherries and kiwis from the fruit stained cutting board. Tonight had really turned out in your favor.

"But you look like hell." Tilly went on, shutting the fridge and moving to make her exit. But before she could leave she kept an eye on you while you snacked on the leftover fruit. And the look in your roommate's eye shifted as she gave you a once over.

"Care to explain in explicit detail why you're wearing Joe's sweater?" She asked with a grin and a look in her eye that made you believe the girl would have acted far more excited if she wasn't so partied out.

"You don't need to know everything..." You turned slightly to hide the blush on your cheeks, even in the dark kitchen. But Tilly already knew everything, even what you weren't telling her. "Yet."

After you shared a hardy laugh, Tilly sulked back to her room with one of your favorite smoothies in hand. But not before she said, "I told you there was nothing to worry about."

Of course, she had been right all along. You wondered how Tilly could have been so sure all this time as you walked back to your bedroom. There you found Joe had tidied up the colossal mess you'd made of the sheets and was in the middle of queuing up one of your favorite shows. You performed the ritual of locking the door and throwing yourself on to your bed, and into Joe's arms. He engulfed you in a familiar hold and chuckled as something on the television. As much as you enjoyed being with him, you couldn't get over the fact that he was here with you. You laid next to Joe in the stillness of your bedroom, considering the whirlwind your day had been, reveling in how everything ended up.

You used to only like the day after Valentine's day, when all the chocolates went on sale. It was three in the morning on the fifteenth, and you had a whole lot more too look forward too, now.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

#joe mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #stl event

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

hotel california. (gigi/jackie) — chapter one. - Roza

summary: jackie is a new immigrant to california in the late 70s after the explosion of the iranian revolution and meets gigi goode, a motorcyclist whose father owns the complex the persian is staying at for the next few months. what could possibly go wrong. [songfic based on hotel california]

author's note: thank you to all of jankie candle for being the best support and alex for being the best beta. ty guys for always loving this idea from the beginning, I hope you all enjoy and tumblr is @leljaaa as always xx

my tumblr: leljaaa / ao3 link / ( ꈍ��ꈍ)

— *.✧

August 25th 1978.

Jackie's hands ceased to move as she stood completely stone-faced, looking towards the windows of the Yeşilköy Airport in Istanbul.

Her eyes glanced around the larger-than-life interior of the building as she was left to stare at the small view of the water from the terminal gate her ticket has assigned her to be present in.

Water.

That's all that managed to separate Jackie from her motherland.

All of her childhood and current life was to be completely thrown away and restarted.

The storm clouds concerning the collapse of the entire country had gathered for almost an entire year. It didn't help that everyone was simply butting heads over how to properly come together to try and overthrow the reigning government in power.

The Pro-Western, secret-police-filled lavish monarchy was now, apparently, wanting to be replaced with a Anti-Western theocracy. It had been largely nonviolent, thankfully, and simply was massed with civil protests as well as marches and chants from various citizens.

But the revolution finally erupted when only six days ago, 500 citizens were burned to their demise in an intentional fire that started at a local movie theatre.

Outcry, screams, rallying on the streets.

Constant.

Jackie left her family, called her mother one last time and promised to try to communicate as much as she could when she finally reached the West.

Storming out of University she groaned, running for Istanbul with her one suitcase after she hugged her roommate goodbye. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she passed by the warm and friendly neighborhood cats in Tehran one last time.

She adjusted her long blue and white floral dress as she pulled on the tassels near her neckline, making an attempt to tighten the top of the outfit as she gasped, hearing the announcement in Turkish and English about her flight finally boarding the next class in line.

Los Angeles was the only destination she was able to find a decent price for, her main sights were set on Canada where they had vacationed before to see cousins and distant family. However, most Iranians were fleeing to the states, so much so that the number in colleges jumped up almost 40,000 people.

Arrangements for her housing were made over in a telephone booth nearly an hour ago as Jackie detailed her situation to the man who apparently owned one of the cheaper complexes in California.

It wasn't her first choice but it was certainly her only choice at the moment, especially when she was about to board a plane to the destination.

Is this the American dream? Telling a stranger my life story as I sob over a payphone?

They exchanged information and she was booked through the system as she had just barely enough money to cover her basic expenses and the down payment he spoke of.

All that money saved from new year celebrations, her birthday, college and her job as a waitress would barely even cover a good two weeks of rent.

Basic math showed that seventy Iranian rial only equated to a single US Dollar.

Luckily, being an English and Linguistics major she knew the language like the back of her hand even if she still slipped heavily into her accent while conversing.

She could at least try to find work with the skills she had under her belt.

I know French fluently in any worst case. I'm sure there's some posh, Parisian strolling around the malls of America I've heard described in my magazines.

"Thank you," she whispered in English as she gripped her pastel blue suitcase close to her chest, stepping past the flight attendant as she entered the covered bridge.

My whole life is now on hold.

— *.✧

"Morning Miss Goode," a gentle voice spoke as the blonde flipped her long hair and shut the door in front of her. She smiled seeing one of their long time visitors, Clarissa, sitting near the lounge of the apartment complex with Earth, Wind & Fire blaring across the radio.

"Good morning," she grinned as she gave her a hug, gently crouching as she tried to keep a smile while hugging the older woman, who was reading her daily newspaper.

Her denim jumpsuit was covered in oil stains as she wiped her face dabbed in sweat.

"Riding again?"

The twenty year old laughed, confirming the woman's suggestion and shrugging with a small smile painted across her lips as she tied her hair back, explaining that she was trying to see if her motorcycle had an oil leak, that was all.

"Just trying to work on the bike while I can."

Owning the complex was always some kind of burden and weight on her shoulders, though it wasn't the Ritz or a five star resort, she grew up knowing it was a deep part of her family history and she was next to own it and take over the business.

Go to University and study business, paid for by her parents, come home and expand the housing and see a surge in profit.

If this plan was the stairwell to Heaven, Gigi had completely turned around and jumped off backwards after hitting that first step.

Gigi could care less about education in a society where no one cared unless you were rich or singing the number one hit song charting on the radios.

She had barely gotten her high school diploma before she decided to drop out of community college, despite getting to live with her best friend since middle school, Crystal.

The redhead had been extremely anxious about the sudden separation, until she realized that the starving poor artist wasn't a good look for her or her family, who barely had enough means as it was.

Now they both worked at the complex for decent money, Crystal great with design and helping out with various projects concerning architecture or the new paint jobs for the inside of some of the rooms.

Gigi was often stuck at the front desk, or trying to mingle with confused or returning guests who took every chance to complain to the daughter of the owner whenever they possibly could.

She entered the door to her childhood home as she was immediately met with an uncertain stare directed her way.

"Dad—" her lips pursed together as she was immediately stopped by her father who sighed, not even needing an explanation of where she was or what she partook in instead of her job at the front desk of the small hotel.

"Gigi! We talked about this, you have to focus on your job here and make your money's worth and not just ride your bike!"

"I know…" she pouted as she took a deep breath, saddling in for another long rant from her father. But her mom seemed to hear her inner prayers, walking by and rubbing her shoulders, insisting that Gigi was allowed to have some fun during these hot dull summer months.

"Thank you," she whispered as she was bestowed with a loving kiss upon her forehead, her mom holding her hand as she stepped over to the kitchen, asking if Gigi would like anything to drink.

"I'm good."

Her father seemed to ignore the last two minutes as he sat on the couch, blissfully watching whatever channel was being broadcast as the mention of a new, month long rental had called in this morning.

"She's coming all the way from Iran. Only a bit older than Gigi."

Gigi's ears perked up as she changed in the bathroom out of the tight outfit into her short-cut t-shirt gifted from Crystal as a token of their friendship.

Her mind ran rampant with questions as she bit her lower lip and shook her head; she knew well enough from consistent pestering and close observation that right now wasn't a good time to be speaking about something still considered so taboo.

The only lesbian in all of Los Angeles who wasn't ancient or leading an uprise was Crystal and her other close friend from high school, Jan, who was as about as open as you could get with someone still fiercely in the closet.

"What about a new girl?" She asked curiously as she stepped out from the shadows.

Her father smiled, happy that Gigi was interested in anything pertaining to work, though the blonde knew exactly where her head laid with that question.

"She's a refugee, the revolution is apparently starting to build and she needs a place to stay," her mother recapped as Gigi slid by the fridge, listening impatiently to her father's blind knowledge of politics and foreign affairs as she stole a soda.

"Their royalty recently spoke to our own Jimmy Carter you know."

"Really?" Gigi replied with genuine shock, opening her bottle of Dr. Pepper, completely forgetting who her own country's president was for a solid two minutes.

I could give less of a shit.

It wasn't her fault she had failed Government and Economics in high school.

She had always been in favour of taking those 45 minutes to instead go on a ride or just hide behind the bleachers with one of the cigarettes she had managed to steal from Crystal.

"Name?"

"Jacqueline, she's scheduled to arrive around late afternoon so we should go down in a few to work on some unfinished papers and also to make sure she's comfortable."

Gigi groaned, sipping her drink as she kept moaning at the thought of having to do math at a table alone. The incredibly interesting job of paperwork, however, would end with her meeting a new and mysterious woman almost her age.

She could either be Gigi's next crush or turn into a decently close friend, and either way she considered it a win-win situation for the better.

— *.✧

"More to the left," the blonde spoke as Crystal lifted the piece of artwork towards the end of where she had placed her chair.

"Good!"

Nailing it in, the redhead jumped down from the chair as she and Gigi exchanged a round of high fives and hugs.

The time had rolled around to ten minutes to four in the afternoon as the two were attempting to keep on singing with the ABBA record that was playing as they finished up the final touches of the autumn decor near the lobby.

It wasn't the most interesting time, but the pair always managed to make it as lively and fun as can be.

"Good job," she admitted as both headed for the pool before Gigi gasped, stopping immediately in her tracks when noticing what must've been the new Persian girl her father was talking about.

"Crystal, that's her!" She whisper-shouted as her best friend nodded, looking up and down at her beautifully styled outfit.

Flowing curly black hair, her dress long with a slit almost up to her thigh as she wore her locks down with little makeup on.

She was more than beautiful.

She was completely ethereal.

A goddess, the kind of figure that would make anyone stop on the street just so they could take her in and bask in the pure, unfiltered grace and poise you would feel looking at such a textbook definition of stunning.

Crystal disappeared in broad daylight as Gigi was left staring, engulfed completely in fantasy and admiration for someone her age to travel all this way just to feel some stable security and safety.

"Your full name?"

The Persian tilted her head, confused before Gigi's father explained that it was just for check in purposes so they could find her room number and call number.

"Jacqueline but most will just call me Jackie, Cox."

"Very American last name," her dad spoke, curious, Gigi wanting to bash her head against the wall the moment the words left his lips.

"My dad was born in Canada," she explained sheepishly as she covered her cheeks with her fingertips, trying to disguise the blush that soon infiltrated her entire face.

They exchanged a couple of chuckles here and there before the Persian finally received the key to her hotel room, Gigi jumping out from behind her father to explain that she would show her the place she would be staying in.

Locking eyes, Jackie's expression brightened significantly as Gigi rapidly fluttered her lashes. Her tough girl exterior completely crumbled at the sight of someone so perfect and refined.

"Gigi Goode."

"Jackie Cox."

They shook hands firmly, the both of them walking towards the elevator as Jackie held her suitcase, completely indifferent to the idea of staying at this complex despite the cute girl next to her who made sure she would get to her room in an orderly fashion.

Jackie missed her apartment in Tehran, she missed the mountains and high-rises in the window of her student home, with the silver tabbies sometimes hopping on the window when they smelled something good being cooked.

"I don't wanna ask you if it's triggering but what drove you to Los Angeles specifically? Is there a lot of students here from your country?"

The Persian smiled, licking her lips as she tried to come up with a put together answer to the question without having to go through a textbook of back story concerning the revolution.

"There is a lot of fighting over my government and I just fled knowing it's going to get worse. Los Angeles does have some Persians here for sure but I only am here because it was the cheapest ticket option."

"Awesome," Gigi gasped, "I mean not awesome! I'm sorry you're here but I'm very glad you're here and are staying with us!"

Way to make a first impression Gigi.

Jackie laughed at how quickly the blonde seemed to trip over her own words as the elevator opened to the second floor, Gigi skipping out before holding out her hand for the taller woman.

"Ladies first."

"Thank you!"

Making her way to the door she slid her key into the room as she finally managed to unlock it before nodding at the space within the room.

"It's very nice!"

"You don't have to lie just because my father owns this building," Gigi admitted with a snicker as Jackie shook her head furiously.

"I mean it!"

Gigi couldn't help but stare at the brightly coloured walls, though she supposed anything was better than Jackie's current situation back in her home country.

She explained that her and her best friend were probably going to be redoing the rooms soon with new paint job finishes.

"It's very cute, I like the colours."

Jackie sets her suitcase down on the couch as she jumps on to it, wiggling around as she leaned back and sighed, remembering suddenly that she needed to find a way to speak with her mother.

"Do you possibly have some kind of phone around? I just need to contact my mother if that's okay."

Gigi frowned, the idea of being away from her mom during a damn revolution abroad completely would destroy her, though Jackie seemed fine, or was at least able to mask her true emotions extremely well.

"Yeah, there should be one in the kitchen. It has a guide in English and French if you know it," She jokes though the Persian claps, admitting she's fluent and better at it than English.

Oh so she's also a cunning linguist.

What a home run.

"It's a bit confusing but if you get stuck you can always ask me, I work at the front desk most of the time."

Jackie stands, their faces in proximity as she thanks Gigi for all the good service and help. The Persian admitted she definitely wanted to see her again considering she was the first connection she had made arriving in America.

"If you ever wanna see me you can catch me on my Kawasaki motorcycle, I'm almost always out somewhere riding."

"You drive a motorcycle?" She asks, genuinely intrigued at Gigi's few hobbies.

"I do and I would be happy to take you anywhere you need, we live near one of the best downtown areas so whenever you need food or just want to stroll, let me know."

Jackie tucked the loose strands of her black hair behind her ear as she blushed, admitting it might have to be soon since she had to go off and buy some food for herself.

"If it's any trouble, I absolutely do not mind walking…"

"You're not going to walk to a grocery store, what time do you want to go? I'll knock on your door."

The Persian stared at the clock before humming, admitting that somewhere around six or seven would be perfect.

"It's a date," Gigi flirted before making a move and kissing Jackie's hand, saying goodbye to her new-found friend as the refugee stared at her with a smirk.

"Bye Gigi," she whispered as the blonde turned and closed the door, Jackie locking it before trying not to let the thought of this girl completely hypnotize her.

She was beautiful and very sweet. She was trying to make Jackie feel as comforted as possible, even if her responses were sometimes just a bit floundered.

Content with what she had, she turned on the small television perked in her room as she quickly explored the remaining calibers of the place she would call home for the next few weeks or so.

Her body stopped at the sight of the phone as she gripped the wires, her fingers wrapping around them as she anxiously attempted to call her mother, though she knew it was a long shot, and if it wasn't it would still be expensive.

No answer.

She groaned, head in her heads as she attempted to not cry. She put aside some of her extra money she budgeted out for non-necessity items.

I will ask Gigi to find me a payphone so I can give a call.

However, I still have to work out these timezone conversions.

Her suitcase was filled to the brim with whatever she could bring: her best outfits, three pairs of shoes, all her basic first aid, the money, some tokens of her home country to keep her at ease, a small Iranian flag and some miscellaneous items to keep her entertained like a few vinyl records and lots of art and writing materials.

"This is the American dream they always speak about," she muttered under her breath as she pulled out a long white kaftan to wear for the rest of the day.

Welcome to the United States Jackie, everything is only uphill from here...

#rpdr fanfiction #jackie cox #gigi goode #crystal methyd #jan sport #gigi x jackie #lesbian au #seventies au #decades au #song fic #hotel california #roza #concrit welcome #s12

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khhunniewriting · 5 years

Text

The Others (11)

[ Mafia/Gang AU ]

Warning: The entire chapter is a flashback to 17 years ago when they first met/dated. There will be some suggestive content.

“Welcome- oh it’s you again Mr. Lee.” You smiled widely at the charismatic man that had earned you a big commission on multiple occasions. He was young, handsome, and rich- a triple threat. On top of it all, he seemed easy to talk to despite the overwhelming gap in status between you two.

“I told you to call me Joonkyung,” he reminded you with a smile of his own. This was his third time at the jewelry store that month. He hardly had time to spare on shopping, more importantly, there was a limit to how much jewelry he could buy but he somehow found the time and space to visit the same shop. It was easy when you were there.

Dok2 had been unable to forget you.

He stayed awake at night thinking about the genuine hardworking young woman that helped him pick out his wife’s anniversary gift.

The shop was relatively lonely with only you and the security guard out on the shop floor while the store’s manager resided in the back office. The counters lined with shining diamonds and sterling silver couldn’t compare to your beauty.

Behind the counter, you subtly slipped back into your heels gaining a couple inches of height. It was tiring standing around most of the day in an empty shop. Jewelry wasn’t a fast-moving item allowing periods of silence at the time.

“What can I help you with today?”

“My wife’s birthday is coming up.”

“And you came to get her another pretty piece,” you sighed. This man never held back for his wife. You figured he was deeply in love with her since he had gotten married at a young age. “She’s so lucky~”

Dok2 chuckled at your exasperated sigh. In previous talks, you declared yourself the most unromantic woman on Earth. “I thought you didn’t believe in marriage.”

“Do you know how many engagement rings get returned? Love is such a foreign concept to me.” You leaned over the counter resting your elbows on the glass and your chin in the palms of your hands. All the while you wondered what twist of fate had to occur for you to experience the devotion of a man who loved you as much as Mr. Lee loved his wife.

It was too late for him to confide in you, to tell you that he too knew nothing about love. On day one you managed to sweep him into conversation. Almost immediately making him out to be something he wasn’t.

He did not know what love was.

Nonetheless, he congratulated himself for playing his role as husband well enough for you to believe he cared about his wife.

Unfortunately, that backfired the day he realized he was more than a little interested in you.

That year, on Valentine’s Day...

Joonkyung popped into the store seeing a vast increase of shoppers. His eyes scanned the vicinity looking for your beautiful smile. It hadn’t been long since his last visit but he missed you. The sound of your voice alone brought a sense of peace he could not find anywhere else.

When he found you there was a couple across from you asking to see nearly every heart-shaped necklace the store carried. They were gushing and cooing at each other as you forced yourself to smile. He knew it was not genuine after receiving his fair share.

“Welcome sir, may I assist you this evening?”

Another female employee of the store that he had never seen before approached him. She was younger, wearing a regular uniform unlike yours. You were now the store’s manager allowing you to wear what you pleased as long as it didn’t hinder the shop’s image.

“I want to see the manager.”

“Oh,” the girl panicked thinking there was some sort of problem. “I’ll get her right away.” She scurried off after politely bowing and asking him to wait, dodging the patrons and calling you aside to let you know of his request.

When you looked out into the store you found Joonkyung staring in your direction. The first meeting of your eyes had the corners of your lips rising into your first smile of the eventful day.

Christmas, New Year’s, and now Valentine’s... this man had class. Mr. Lee had single-handedly caused your promotion. Your sales kept increasing making you stand out to the corporation that owned the store.

You instructed her to take over for you with the couple while you attended to your special customer.

“Joonkyung, I knew you would come in eventually.”

“Hello Y/N,” indeed he had worked hard to get on a first-name basis with you. He never missed an opportunity to call your name.

There was no need for questions on a day like this. You took him directly to the silver jewelry his wife seemed to favor. There were a few new pieces that came just in time for the holiday.

He followed you but he wasn’t paying much attention to what you were saying. His mind wasn’t on the jewelry but on the woman handling it.

“This one has been selling very well-”

“What do you like?” Dok2 thought it was now or never. If he waited any longer he would be unable to hold back. He knew for a fact that you didn’t have a boyfriend but that could change any moment. “What would you expect from your boyfriend?”

You put down the pendant in your hand and instead pulled out a simple thin necklace with an equally delicate and small diamond hanging in the middle.

“That?” Dok2 questioned in disbelief. He was expecting you to pull out some rare expensive items from the back that you only showed him and the other big spenders.

You nodded innocently, “Don’t judge me but I’m not into the flashy pieces like you are. I prefer smaller items that can go unnoticed if one does not look hard enough.”

He agreed, sometimes the best things were those that nearly slipped your fingers.

"Although I wouldn’t expect such a gift on Valentine’s day from a boyfriend.”

“I’ll buy it for you.”

“Wh-what?” You thought you heard wrong at first but when he handed you his card you realized how serious he was being. “You’re serious?”

He nodded, “I’ve been meaning to give you something for a while now.”

You stood up straight your eyes shifting to see if anyone had heard the exchange. Your fingertips turned white as you tightened your hold on his card. Perhaps you were reading too much into it?

“Why would you give me something so expensive- why give me something at all?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

\\\

Looking around your new surroundings made everything seem so unreal. The condo was huge, too big for a single occupant. You walked about noticing every detail of luxury that had gone into it.

“I definitely can’t afford this kind of place.” You returned to his side hoping he would take you to a much more affordable area. This side of the city itself was known for being costly.

“But do you like it?”

“Who wouldn’t.”

“Then it’s yours.” Dok2 held your hand opening it to place a key flat in your palm.

You were stunned, unable to say much but to protest against it. “I can’t accept this.”

He smirked recalling the first time he tried giving you something. That necklace you wore daily, the one he bought for you on Valentine’s day. “That’s what you said about the necklace”

“I also said that we should stop seeing each other.” It hurt to remember that this was an affair now that you were developing stronger feelings towards him. For six months you enjoyed your meetings with Joonkyung but the moral dilemma weighed heavy on you the more you stuck around.

Dok2 wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you in towards him. His lips hovered over yours allowing you to feel the warmth of his breath.

“We both know you don’t mean that.”

He leaned forward meeting your soft lips with his. Dok2 had made up his mind to pursue you. There was something about you that had him laying awake at night. A feeling of regret, as if he had to be with you or he would be losing out on something.

You gasped when his tongue slid across your bottom lip but quickly recovered from it. “Joonkyu-” He wouldn’t allow you to speak or to part ways. He reclaimed your lips, slid his hands lower until one of them pulled your thigh up to his hip.

Once again you gasped, this time he took the chance to slip his tongue past your lips.

His actions had you holding onto him for dear life. You noticed this before but you were always surprised by his aggressive acts of dominance. The more you protested, the harder he tried to coax your honest feelings to come out.

Joonkyung was a confident man. He knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

“Be honest,” Joonkyung smirked seeing your flushed and gasping for air. “Do you want me?”

You looked away embarrassed. “What kind of question-”

He latched his lips onto your neck leaving a trail of kisses that elicited your involuntary moaning. He did not appreciate the way you dodged his question with another question.

“Answer me.”

You didn’t know what was wrong with you. The way he demanded things turned you on making it harder for you to deny him.

“You’re married Joonkyung.”

He would be the death of you.

\\\

Dok2 pulled you in closer never taking his hands off of you the entire night. It was a stark contrast to the way he slept with his wife. They shared a bed but he kept to his side while she did the same.

The first night you slept with him it was a night of discovery for Joonkyung. You had clung to him, something he found oddly alluring. It seemed you were only honest in your sleep- seeking him out. Then every morning you awoke pulling away to cover up.

When your eyes fluttered open you looked up to catch a glimpse of his playful smirk. Once again you had given in to this man. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

"You’re really beautiful in the morning.”

You turned your back to him hiding your quickly reddening face.

Dok2 laughed before pulling you back towards him. “You always do that.” He kissed your shoulder trying to dissipate your embarrassment. “There’s no need to hide from me. I like seeing your reactions.”

“Shut up,..” you muttered becoming extremely aware of the fact that you were both still very naked under the thin sheet. “And don’t move.”

He laughed some more.

“Don’t you want to do it once more before I leave?”

“No,” you lied already feeling the heat take over your body. He was the first person to ever make you feel the so-called butterflies in your stomach.

“You’re a horrible liar,” Joonkyung whispered in your ear.

When you looked back Joonkyung took the opportunity to steal a kiss. His lips lightly pressed against yours easing you into a deeper kiss. He just couldn’t get enough. Your lips lured him in weather they were curved up in a smile or pressed tightly in a line of disappointment.

He never knew he could enjoy someone’s company like this.

\\\

“Don’t think about it too much.”

All you could do was think of the consequences your relationship with Joonkyung would have. But, for some reason, it seemed you were the only one who would get hurt.

His wife was pregnant...

Perhaps you had gotten your hopes up. You had thought that because he had you, his relationship with his wife was over. Suddenly your chest felt heavy, empty- void of everything.

Wer you expecting him to leave his wife for you one day?

You were upset.

You were confused.

It wasn’t till this moment you realized what kind of relationship this was. You were a mistress that could be tossed aside. Not once had Joonkyung suggested otherwise.

“Until the baby is born I’ll have to spend more time at home.”

There it was, the first signs of abandonment. You wanted to say something but you had no right. If only he could say something to put your heart at ease.

You loved Joonkyung but-

“I understand,” you did your best to smile.

Joonkyung noticed it was not a genuine smile but said nothing. He went about the condo treating it as his home.

If only he could say he loved you.

If only you could hear him say that word once...

-end-

A/N: I wanted you all to see and know a little bit more about their relationship since I noticed I didn’t say too much about it in the first installment.

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daesungindistress · 5 years

Note

Not to keep talking about him, but you said he’s regarded as the worst k-celebrity? That’s weird that they deem him worst than his “friends”. Maybe because his shit is STILL dragging on months later?

The molka stuff was only a small part of a much larger scandal. The reason there’s still so much discourse about it among VIPs is because, based on my observations at the time, his presence in the molka chats is what prompted most fans to drop him (and many of them stopped paying attention after that). His remaining fans know this and are focusing so much of their fight on that in an effort to reverse the narrative and regain support for him. It’s a complete waste of time though; they’re running circles around themselves trying to disprove something Seungri himself already admitted to ages ago. “Those messages aren’t my entire life,” he said when asked why he didn’t reprimand JJY for the illegal videos he shared in the chats. He was there, he saw, he knew.

(What’s funny is they can’t even keep their own stories straight; I’ve had anons in my inbox the last few days trying to erase his presence in the chats with “It wasn’t Seungri, it was Lee Jonghyun!” and “It wasn’t Seungri, it was another Lee Seunghyun!” And not a peep about his Chosun interview. It sure is funny watching them trip over themselves trying to get it right when the answer has been right there in front of them all along.)

I think about this sometimes… how for those who weren’t in the fandom back then and/or weren’t following along, much of Seungri’s role in the Burning Sun controversy is going to be lost to time. New fans will take an interest in Big Bang and join the fandom and no doubt they’ll ask, “What happened to Seungri?” And there’s just no way to sum it all up cleanly and concisely. There’s too much. It would be nice to see someone put together a timeline of events, but I have a feeling the only people possessing that kind of dedication to the case nowadays are the fans still committed to defending him. No thanks.

Anyway, just for funsies, here’s a list of as many allegations as I can think of off the top of my head, with explanations that I tried (and failed ofc) to keep condensed. Just various things for anyone who’s new here…

- The alleged drugging and sexual assault of women by wealthy clients in the VIP room at the club Burning Sun. Burning Sun was widely known as Seungri’s club as he had spent the better part of the prior year (2018) promoting it, calling it his, DJ-ing there, etc… proudly boasting throughout his solo promotions about how, unlike most celebrities, he doesn’t just loan out his name and face, he manages his businesses himself. Because of this, no matter how hard he backpedaled when the news about Burning Sun broke, insisting that he wasn’t responsible for the day-to-day operations of the club and didn’t have a clue about what was happening there, there was no separating himself from it completely. He was in too deep already. Worse, media got their hands on some club documents and found that he did in fact have part-ownership of the club – he was one of its investors and was even listed as the executive director. Granted, the percentage of shares he held was a very small one, but he really should have been forthcoming with that info from the start because this is what began the narrative that painted him as a liar. Or should I say he outed himself as one.

- Widespread corruption within the police force. Not just with regards to Burning Sun but many bars and clubs throughout the Gangnam area. It was suspected that local police had arrangements with the clubs to look the other way and often neglected to investigate crimes being reported on their premises. Minors entering the clubs, drug use, sexual violence, etc. This leads to…

- Police collusion… i.e., suspicions of having friends in high places. Seungri was in a chat with friends in which they discussed Choi Jonghoon having a DUI covered up and kept quiet, the news suppressed. Not even his own agency knew. Seungri said, “Don’t think that it’ll be covered up the next time you drink and drive. [Name redacted] hyung used his own money to keep them from telling.” His “Korean law is shit, that’s why I love it” comment in another chat didn’t earn him any brownie points with the public either.

- More on bribing the police: Seungri and his business partner Yoo Insuk had connections with a high-ranking police official, one referred to in the chats as “police chief”. This turned out to be Superintendent Yoon, who was suspected of alerting them to violations related to his other club, Monkey Museum, and helping them avoid prosecution for it. Seungri had registered the business as a general restaurant but began operating the business outside the limits of an ordinary restaurant (installing a stage, dance floor, etc) despite being aware that it could become a legal issue down the road. He was suspected to have done so for the purpose of paying lower taxes.

This is where the Food & Sanitation Act charge comes in. Not especially major in itself, the bigger issue was Seungri suggesting in the chats that they could just bribe the police if there was ever a crackdown.

Superintendent Yoon had meals and went on golf outings with Seungri & Yoo Insuk. They said that he paid for his portion every time, however it was found that SR & Yoo had in fact treated him on a few occasions. Big Bang concert tickets were also given as gifts. However, it was determined that the value of what they gave him didn’t quite meet the threshold to be considered a crime, so bribery charges were dropped… on a technicality. Superintendent Yoon is currently being detained on abuse of power charges related to another case.

- Financial crimes, i.e., embezzlement of Burning Sun funds (together with Yoo Insuk, totaling almost a million dollars) and embezzlement of funds from Monkey Museum to pay the attorney’s fees for a DJ accused of sexual assault.

- Prostitution mediation, i.e., arranging sex workers for foreign investors of his 2015 startup Yuri Holdings. He was investigated for 2 instances of this occurring in late 2015 (Club Arena and the “Seung-tsby” Christmas Party), and another at his big birthday bash in the Philippines in 2017. Charges related to the Philippines party were dropped as it couldn’t “legally be seen as prostitution” but I personally think the evidence presented is substantial enough to warrant suspicion.

- Soliciting prostitution for himself. At first he claimed it was “someone he knew before” and said he hadn’t paid her for sex, but police were able to trace payment records back to the establishment where she worked. He reportedly admitted to the charge at his arrest warrant hearing in May.

- Molka (spycam), i.e., secretly filmed photos and videos of women in sexual situations, taken by Seungri’s friends and business partners and shared in a group chat in which he was present. Questions were raised about why he didn’t at least reprimand them. It was later discovered that not only were the victims filmed without their consent, many of them had been drugged and raped… and some were even used against the women as blackmail.

- Instigating the destruction of evidence by advising his friends to change their phones when these chats were released to the public. Reportedly, of the phones handed to police, all but one were new / wiped clean.

- Here’s something I’ll forever be curious about: it was reported that Seungri had been using Burning Sun funds to pay his YGE-appointed manager a separate salary (in addition to his regular salary from the agency) without informing the company. And it was no small amount. I’m not sure why he did this or why, exactly, it’s a problem, but apparently it’s a big no-no because when YGE learned of it Seungri’s manager was promptly let go.

- Gambling. This first came up back in the spring when a chat was released that showed Seungri talking about money he’d won through gambling and telling a business acquaintance he could win big too. In response to this, Seungri said he was only “bluffing”, that he hadn’t really won any money through gambling… Well, months later he was formally called in for questioning on suspicions of habitual gambling and illegal currency exchange transactions. The currency exchange suspicions were dropped in the end, the gambling charge he reportedly admitted to. As for that chat? I think it’s safe to say he wasn’t bluffing that day.

- There was also that gross chat that appeared to show him offering women to a business acquaintance? The man was traveling and asked for a woman, and Seungri responded with photos of a few women, detailed descriptions of their personalities, and price. Pretty sure this is where the trafficking accusations you still see floating around occasionally come from. His explanation for that was essentially “It wasn’t what it looked like.” He said it was about travel companions, not sex, and they never went through with it. IDK what to make of it, but let’s be honest, that was going to reflect badly on him no matter how he spun it.

- Things got really wild when speculation about him having connections to the Chinese triad (organized crime) started up due to his business relationship with a powerful woman known as Madam Lin. She was one of his investors and according to police statements, is believed to have aided in helping him embezzle funds from Burning Sun. Korean police summoned her for questioning and requested her cooperation multiple times to no avail.

…I’ll stop there, but just keep in mind there is more, suspicions that didn’t seem to lead anywhere in the end but that dealt blow after blow after blow to what little was left of his reputation. The whole thing became mind-boggling. I think it’s easier for us as IVIPs to forget the fervor that swept the nation as this scandal erupted because we weren’t really there for it, not in the same way as Koreans who must have seen it plastered across every major news station day in and day out for months… people who saw their fellow citizens protesting in the streets against the atrocities reported at Burning Sun and the corruption in the police force that failed to prevent it. And yes… in a way, it’s still dragging on. Seungri was known for having connections everywhere, even where you’d least expect it; here that reputation of his worked against him as the floodgates opened and he became the connecting piece for all the nasty that came pouring out. And you know what they say: the bigger they are, the harder they fall. He wanted to be famous. Now he’s infamous.

#seungri #burning sun #ask #anon #ok I did have to go back and refer to a few sources for this lol #just a few things #what a mess

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jaehyeonsgf · 5 years

Note

hi!! Can u do jaehyun angst from prompt list no.10 & 27 🥺 Thank u very much 💚

10 : that was a lie and everyone knew it

27 : say it out loud

a/n : i hope you enjoy it! i really enjoyed writing this one! (also i’m writing this as i’m running late for my exam dhakjhekrhe)

[ view prompt list here ]

When your word fell apart, it did so silently and with ignorance.

It’s nothing like how movies portray them to be. There’s no loud wailing, there’s no desperate self-preservation and there’s no impending doom. Just silence, a few nods and the taste of iron in your mouth.

“Okay,” your voice falters and you cough, trying to steady your voice, not wanting any weaknesses reveal itself. You grip your thighs tighter, letting the pain of your nails digging into your flesh distract from the ache in your chest. “Let’s break up.”

On the train home, you see a boy typing something on his phone. You didn’t mean to look at his phone, but he was sitting beside you and it caught your attention. There’s a string of 0s and 1s dancing across his screen and you immediately recognised it as binary code. The ache in your heart tightens. It means nothing.

Back in your university days, Jaehyun would surprise you by littering random notes all around. From your textbooks, your dorm’s fridge to the bulletin board that hung in front of your bed. It’s his way of leaving small touches in your life, reminding you of him even when he’s not around you. Of course, he never writes it in languages that you understood. The sadistic string within him would write it in Greek, Chinese, Japanese even in Russian once. You’d spend the whole morning decoding it. Some days his message is short and sweet, decoded it would say ‘I love you’. Other days, his message is long-winded but still sweet.

But when you woke up to a string of 0s and 1s written on a post-it note, you thought that he had officially gone crazy.

You later learn that the random and seemingly arbitrary arrangement of 0s and 1s is called binary code. And out of all the languages he used, this became your favourite. It’s a language that both you, a business major, and Jaehyun, a literature major, could understand. A halfway point between your differences.

The next few weeks come and go in a blur. You bury yourself in work and more work. You barely have the time to breath. For a while, you’re stuck in a routine of work, coffee break, more work until it’s 2 in the morning and you remember that you’ll have to wake up at 7 the next morning so you try to go to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Some nights are better than others. There are a handful of nights when your head hits the pillow and you drift into sleep immediately. But most nights are spent tossing and turning in your bed, that seems a little bigger and a little colder now. You’ll let the ticks of the clock lull you to sleep and in the rare events that you do manage to catch some rest, you’d jolt up an hour or two later, panting and crying.

You don’t even realise that your 26th birthday is coming up until the day before when you receive a text from Starbucks, wishing you a happy birthday with a free drink. Suddenly, you feel the loneliness overwhelm you and you let a tear spill out of one eye. The next comes and they just keep on falling out. For the first time in a while, you don’t touch your laptop for the night and just sit in the living room alone and crying.

Your daily routine of burying yourself in work and sleepless nights numbed you to the core. You detach yourself from everything, friends, family, emotions. Everything. Your phone lights up beside you and you see a text from Taeyong, your best friend. Then another from your mom. You stare at it for a little while longer. But when you don’t see Jaehyun’s name flash across, you feel a surge of pain through your body. You turn your phone over and rest your head against the cream leather of your sofa.

It’s 12 midnight. It’s the day of your birthday. It’s the first time you’ve spent your birthday alone in eight years – ever since Jaehyun came into your life – and you’re not sure what to do.

It becomes a tradition the third consecutive year you spend your birthday with Jaehyun. It starts with a ‘happy birthday!’ text from him at 12 midnight sharp. You’d always stay up to see it, even if it meant forcing yourself by pinching yourself. Then when you get ready to leave the house in the morning, you’d see the gifts on your doorstep. There are variations in them from year-to-year but for the most part, it remains the same. The flowers change every year, but it’s always there. The first year was, as cliché as it is, roses. The next was carnation. The year after was lilac. Then sunflower, jasmine, forget-me-not, white dittany and angelica. You remember every single one because Jaehyun is the only man to have given you flowers. And also because he’d tell you what each one mean and it’d overwhelms you with happiness you never thought were possible. Without fail, there’ll be a letter too. Jaehyun is a fan of poetry and would write the most beautiful literature for you. He even wrote Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18 for you one year. In his letters, he doesn’t hold back on his compliments, praises and expression of love. Then there were miscellaneous gifts – they were the gifts of what you’ve once said you wanted or something that you were obsessed with at that time.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re gifted with sore neck and legs from the weird posture you slept in and stinging swollen eyes. The swelling doesn’t subside by the time you leave the house so you cover your eyebags with more concealer than usual. You open your door and, for some weird reason – perhaps habit -, you find yourself looking down at the doorstep. You’re greeted by a dead leave and you crush it on your way out.

After work, you find yourself heading to Taeyong’s house.

When you replied to his birthday wishes, he had invited you for a little catch up with a few other university friends. You had half a mind to reject him using the excuse of work because you don’t want the possibility of hearing about Jaehyun. After all, they were friends with Jaehyun too. But he sends you ‘jaehyun won’t be there. i swear. just come. i’ve missed you. we all have.’ when you don’t reply fast enough. You realise that Jaehyun probably told them what happened. He texts you another ‘pleeeease?’, you finally cave and promise to be there.

You forgot how long it has been since you’ve met up with them until you see that they are all rocking different hairstyles and hair colours since the last meet up. Taeyong’s red hair has been replaced by an ash-brown colour. Mark’s previously black hair changes subtly to a light shade of brown. Yuta’s hair has grown out and he has it in a man-bun.

“Do y’all just really like going to the salon or what?” You chuckle, taking off your shoes and following after Taeyong into the apartment.

The other 3 guys stand up from the couch and each takes turn to engulf you in a warm hug. You exchange pleasantries with all of them, answering the typical how have you been by lying through a smile when you tell them life’s good.

They catch you up on a few things in their lives. You learn that Yuta is now a model, Mark’s pursuing his masters in Literature and Taeyong and Ten have opened up a dance studio and are dance instructors. They learn that you’re working at a bigshot accounting firm.

They are careful to not bring up Jaehyun’s name through it all.

When the commotion settles, you find yourself sitting at the dining table with them.

“So, how’s life man?” Taeyong asks as you lift the mug to your lips. “You’re so busy nowadays.”

You just shrug. There’s no possible way of truthfully answering the question without breaking down of them and you refuse to break down in front friends that you haven’t seen in almost a year. Besides, you’d prefer to pretend the uglier sides of your life doesn’t exist.

“It’s been… okay,” you play with the rim of the mug, “Tiring I guess.” You give him a sheepish smile and pray that he’ll leave it at that.

But they don’t. “Even after the… um… breakup?”

Taeyong’s bluntness catches you off-guard and you freeze just for a second. You force yourself to not recall the afternoon when the break up happened five months ago. Or the eight years that you’ve spent with him.

Instead, you reply with a practiced answer. “It’s tough at first. You know, especially because we’ve been together for like, what, eight years? But I’m… I’m okay.”

That was a lie and everyone knew it. You see the glance that Mark gives Taeyong. The way Ten rakes a hand through his hair. The way Yuta shifts uncomfortably.

“I’m… really fine, you all don’t have to worry about me,” you assure.

There’s an awkward silence that hangs in the air and even you’re not sure what to do or say.

“No like really?” Mark finally breaks the silence. “Because from the looks of it, you look… terrible.”

You wonder what gave it away. Was it how your clothes hang looser on you? Or the way that, by this time of day, the concealer laid on your skin? Or was it the way you still played with your fourth finger, as if the promise ring was still there?

“We’re all ears and we won’t snitch,” Ten adds when you don’t reply. He reaches over and rests a hand on your wrist, “Tell us what’s going on.”

“…It’s just,” You take a deep breath. “I’ve been so… in love with him and I still am.” There’s a tension that is released from your chest from finally allowing yourself to admit it. You’ve missed him and you’re still in love with him. You didn’t realise the extent of these emotions because you’ve been in constant motion but now, they hit you full force and you’re sure that not even for a moment did you stop loving or missing Jaehyun. You’re not sure if that’s good or bad thing but you continue.

“And I thought- I really thought that, that we’d get married, you know. I thought he was the one. I don’t know where it went wrong or what I did wrong.”

When Jaehyun left, it felt like half of you left with him. There’s not even a Jaehyun-shaped hole in your heart. No, the moment you stood up and left the café, half of you was left in it. The downfall of your relationship lasted a whole year. It took a whole year before Jaehyun plucked up the courage to break things off with you.

It started with a promise.

It was a quiet Sunday morning. The both of you were awake but none of you wanted to leave the warmth of your bed. He had sat up, back against the headboard and had one hand holding a book whilst the other played with your hair.

Then he reached into the nightstand’s drawer and pulled out a small transparent pouch holding two silver bands.

“What’s this? Are you proposing to me?” You chuckled, eyes meeting with his.

He was always a romantic and you wouldn’t be surprised.

“No,” his voice still thick with sleep, “but I want this to… to represent my promise to you.”

“What promise?”

“That you’re mine. And I’m yours. Forever.”

You laughed. “That sounds exactly like a proposal, you know that right?”

His cheeks flushed pink.

It’s times like this that you’re reminded of how simple-minded Jaehyun was. He wasn’t the type to think too much. Rather, he acted irrationally at times, doing things because he wanted to. You take the pouch out of his hand and take one ring out. It’s a simple metal band, nothing extravagant. On the inner ring, it had his name branded on to it. The other ring had yours.

“I-I got it from the gift shop on the way home,” he said.

He saw your soft gaze on the ring and knew that you’d love it. It made his chest swell with pride.

“What do you think of it?” he took the ring out of your hand and slip it on your fourth finger. He took your hand and kissed the spot above the ring.

“I love it!”

Mark gives you a sad smile. “You know, he’s… well, he’s himself, he’s Jaehyun. There’s a logic there than none of us can begin to understand. Don’t torture yourself by thinking too much.”

But I’ve knew him the best. Your heart boasts. You thought that if anyone were to understand anything Jaehyun does, it’d be you. But then he goes and do this kind of shit that causes you to doubt your position in his heart. Not that you have one anymore.

“Have you spoken to him since?” Yuta asks.

“Well, no,” you take a deep breath, “But I mean… He wouldn’t want me to remain in his life after all of our history and-“Another deep breath. “It’s better than way, no?”

They exchange a glance.

“Has he at least given you a reason?”

You look at Mark and shake your head. Even if he had, you didn’t hear it. The shock had overwhelmed you to the point that your ears were ringing.

“Then it’s only fair if he did, right? He’s not one to not understand that,” Mark says with a comforting smile.

The rest of the night carried a less serious tone to it. You talk. They listen. They talk. You listen. You watch a horror movie with them – a sort of tradition started since you befriended them in university. You laugh at how jumpy they are. When Mark starts yelling from the toilet saying that he swears he saw something in the mirror after the movie, the rest of you spend the reminder of the night clowning him.

That night, as you lay your head against your pillow, you smile – one that is out of genuine happiness. You’re grateful for friends like them, who are there regardless of circumstances. Hanging out with them brought endless amounts of joy into your heart. And you feel your heart beginning to mend back together until your phone lights up from a text.

You turn to your phone and the message completely shatters your heart. The few hours of work that your friends did completely undone in a second.

‘happy birthday, i hope you’ve enjoyed yourself today.’

It’s from Jaehyun. You realised you still haven’t changed his contact name from ‘my future hubby’ to something else. The text is the first text that you’ve received from him since the day in the café. Your finger hovers above the screen as you think of a suitable reply. But you’re unable, so you flip your phone over and turn away from your phone. You drift to sleep with a single thought in your mind.

He still remembers my birthday. Maybe he’s still in love with me.

The thought stays with you when you wake up in the morning. Maybe he misses me. Maybe he wants me back. Maybe he didn’t mean his words. Maybes will be how you meet your demise. The way five months’ worth of supressed emotions hit you like a wave and doesn’t stop there. It swells and hits you harder with each maybe.

You’re barely able to keep up at work, without letting your thought stray to him and you wonder how you were able to do it just a day ago. You think back on Mark’s words and decide that you’re ready. You’re ready to meet him. You’re ready to get closure.

When you lay eyes on Jaehyun, the first time in five months, your heart swells and your prepared speeches fly out of the window because you’re rendered speechless. The dim café lights don’t hide his dashing good looks and you see his familiar double-lidded eyes. They’re tired and you wish that maybe, just maybe, it’s because he’s been missing you too.

“Hello,” you say settling into the seat in front of him

“Hey,” he gives you a small polite smile, “You wanted to talk?”

You nod. “Uh, yeah. I just- Um. How are you?” Your words are awkwardly strung together because you’re nervous, so goddamn nervous.

“Seriously?” he chuckles, lifting a cup to his lips. You glance at it and guessed that it’s black coffee. Plain, black, just how it likes it. “Well, I’m doing, as well as a person who’s just lost their first love can do.”

His words are dripping in sadness and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It catches your eyes.

“What about you?”

You don’t know if you should answer honestly. Would it come off as too attention seeking?

“I’m- I’m not doing too well. Have been getting night terrors.”

“Again?”

You smile sadly. You don’t say that this time, it’s because of him.

You remember how when your father first passes away in university and you started getting night terrors, it’s Jaehyun’s warm arms that calmed you down. His thumb gazed your cheeks, wiping away your tears and he whispers softly It’s okay and I’m here now.

“So I guess that’s why you look so… tired.” He reaches across the table with his thumb. It gazes your cheek and his familiar touch causes you to flinch.

“I’m sorry, habits.” He retreats his hand.

“It’s okay. Anyways, I haven’t been doing too well because-“ the words are stuck in your throat and you don’t want to admit them. You take a deep breath. Jaehyun waits. He’s patient.

“Because I can’t get our breakup out of my head.” You admit to both yourself and him.

The tears that you’ve swallowed for the past few months wells up in your eyes and it spills, continuously. Between choked sobs and sniffling, you tell him that you’ve missed him.

He reaches over and this time you don’t flinch. You let him wipe the tears away.

“Tell me how to make it better. Say it out loud.” He says.

“Please, don’t leave me alone.” You tell him and you speak from your heart.

He goes over to your seat and hugs you. He mumbles soft apologies and even let a few tears drop. When you’ve stop crying and he’s walking you back home, he surprises you by telling you why he broke up with you and it isn’t because he fell out of love with you. Rather, he simply thought that you deserved better than him. He tells you how he misses you, how he craves for your attention. There’re nights when in a drunk fervour, he almost calls you.

That night, the both of you just talk. Work through the relationship – his insecurities and your dependence on him. But you don’t get back together. At least not immediately. It’s too soon.

But the both of you aren’t in any rush, so you take your time with the relationship, cherishing each step of the way with him.

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #jung jaehyun #angst #mine #babe #requested

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thewritewolf · 4 years

Text

Eating Habits Chapter 16: On the Rise

With the fashion show out of the way, our heroes finally get a chance to unwind. At least for a moment.

Happy New Year, everyone! :D

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Letting out a long groan as her muscles relaxed in the sudsy hot water, Marinette tried to think of the last time she had gotten to take a bubble bath. It had to have been before she left the bakery since her tiny apartment didn’t have a tub big enough to relax in and she hadn’t used the one in this apartment until today.

Not for the first time, she wondered what her past self was thinking by settling for that terrible place.

She took a deep breath and settled back against the scented wet towel she’d placed along the edge of the tub. It didn’t matter, she supposed. Now that she was out of that place, she didn’t have to worry about it again. Today, especially, she was planning on not worrying about anything at all.

The music faded peacefully from one song to the next. The playlist had been a gift from Nino for her birthday - four hours of masterfully crafted instrumental music, each blending seamlessly into each other. No wonder he was doing so well working with Jagged Stone; Nino really understood music in a way most people could only hope.

Closing her eyes, she took another deep breath to help herself get lost in the sound, but ended up smiling at the scent of lavender in the air. The candles stirred up memories from the previous week - Alya taking her out for a day of shopping to help get her mind off of the fashion show. Their stop at the candle shop and how they’d accidentally ended up wasting an hour there. Alya had teased Marinette when she got the lavender candles, despite her protests about how it was a relaxing scent.

After all, lavender was also the favorite scent of Adrien, who wore it so frequently that just catching a whiff of it had been enough to bring a smile to her face since she was fourteen. Even now, the scent had her grinning to herself. Remembering Adrien reminded her of something else. She peaked open an eye to check the door - the comfy set of pajamas Adrien had gotten her months ago while he was in Milan were hanging on the knob, ready for her to change into them the moment she was finished with her bubble bath. She let out a sigh of comfort. Sure, it wouldn’t be that bad if she had to go and find it, given there wouldn’t be anyone else in the apartment, but that’s hardly how she wanted this to end.

Tikki phased through the wall, yawning. “Good morning, Marinette! How’s your bath going?”

Marinette curled her toes as she stretched under the water. “I haven’t felt this relaxed since Christmas, so I’d say pretty good. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering about that internship.”

“What about it?”

“Just… in general. What does it mean? How long is it?”

“Well,” Marinette said, rising a little to make it easier to talk. “If it is like other internships, then it’ll be a lot of busy work and helping their main designers. I won’t be doing a lot creatively for them, but I can still learn a lot, and meet some people in the industry.” A sly smile graced her face. “And get paid, of course.”

“That’s good,” Tikki said, perking up. “How long will it be? Is it going to interfere with your studies?”

“No, it’ll just be for the summer. At least, that’s what the letter said. It also said they might extend it. They’ll be sure to keep my classes in mind, but I’d definitely have to cut back on the university clubs and stuff.”

Tikki frowned. “That’s too bad.” She landed on the side of the tub, tentatively sticking her feet into the hot water. “At least you had fun while you were in them, right?”

“Yeah… at least there was that.”

They sat and listened to the music in silence for a few minutes before Tikki spoke up again. “When does it start?”

“Really soon, actually. Next week is orientation, then I get assigned to a designer and I get right into work.”

“Wow! That really is fast! I wonder what they would have done if you turned them down?”

Marinette shrugged. “A big name like that? Either they don’t expect anyone to turn them down or they can easily find someone who won’t, no matter how short notice they give.”

The conversation drifted along, Marinette slowly being drawn out of her pleasant stupor until she was ready to get out of the bath and start the day. A day which would mostly be consisting of watching her favorite shows until Adrien showed up… at which point she would start watching her favorite shows while cuddled up against him.

Marinette smiled. It was good to have a plan.

------------------------

“It’s just… this is absolutely huge and I’m so happy for her, you know?” Adrien stopped pacing as his tail continued to flick back and forth behind him. He looked back at Carapace, who was leaning against the brick wall with his arms crossed, a patient smile on his face. “But at the same time, it feels like I’m standing on sand. Its like everything is changing and I think for the better, but…”

Carapace cut him off with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, I get what you mean. We went through something similar when we both got the jobs we have now.” He shook his head. “It was all so rough to start off, but we got into the swing of things. Now we’re feeling better than ever.” He put a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “My dude, I know it’s scary right now, but it’s gonna be great. Just wait and see.”

“Thanks.” Adrien smiled, a little nervously. “And yeah, I know, I know. I’m excited, but… nervous too. She does tend to throw herself into things. Maybe this time-”

“-This time she’ll have you right by her side,” Carapace finished. “Just be there for her and you’ll both be fine.”

“Right.” Adrien sighed contently and sat down to look up at the full moon. “The future is looking pretty bright, huh?”

“Well, to start with, that’s the moon not the future.” Carapace snickered as Adrien smacked him on the shoulder. “...But yeah. You’re not wrong.” There was a long pause as they stared up at the inky blackness of the sky. The stars were drowned out by the light of the city below, making the moon look lonely as it shone above them. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about the future lately.”

“Is this the prelude to you proposing to me? ‘Cause I’m flattered, but I’ve already got a girlfriend, so I’ll have to pass.”

“Well, you aren’t totally wrong…”

Adrien blinked at his best friend in surprise. Then his mouth fell open. “No way…” His eyes lit up and he turned to face Carapace. “Did you already get the ring? Where are you planning to do it?” He gasped. “We’ll need a band - and roses! I’ll-”

Carapace held his arms up in an x shape. “Woah woah, dude. As of right now, I’ve got no ring, no plan. It’s just been something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.” He settled back against the wall, head tilted up at the sky as he closed his eyes, a smile at his lips. “It’s just… I love this girl, man. I can’t imagine ever wanting to be without her. It’s not time just yet, but… not a lot longer. Soon.”

Adrien deflated a little. “How long is soon?”

“I dunno,” Carapace said with a shrug, still not opening his eyes. “A month? A year? Maybe a little more. I don’t want to rush this, and I’m more than happy to wait for just the right time.”

Considering this, Adrien leaned back against the wall and frowned. A few minutes of silence passed between them.

“So… is that a no on the band then…?”

Carapace snorted, which quickly turned into a laugh. A laugh which proved contagious as soon enough, Adrien was laughing along with him.

----------------------

A few days later and they were visiting their parents. They tried to have dinner with them once a week if they could manage it. It usually gave them the opportunity to catch up and swap stories and just recharge after doing their own thing. And it would only get harder to do once the internship started or when Adrien would start picking up more photoshoots during the summer fashion season.

At the moment, Adrien and Marinette were in the kitchen with Tom, helping to make dinner. They were just putting the finishing touches on it when Adrien heard Sabine call from the living room.

“Tom? Kids?” Immediately, her voice put him on edge. There was an undercurrent of worry to it. Given how calm and collected Sabine usually was, it had to be something big to affect her. “Can you come in here? There is something on the television I think you should see.”

Adrien exchanged a look with the others. From the looks on their faces, he could only assume that they had reached the same conclusion as him. They hustled out of the room and entered the living room just as Sabine was turning up the volume.

There on the screen was Adrien’s face looking right back at him, with the headline, “Last Scion of Disgraced Agrestes paired with Rising Star of Fashion Industry.”

It felt as if a pit had opened up to swallow Adrien, that the very ground beneath his feet had betrayed him. All at once he was reminded of the days, the weeks, the months that he had spent hounded by opportunistic journalists without a shred of dignity. His every waking - and often even sleeping - moment stalked, all in the hopes of selling a few more papers.

He still had nightmares about that. But now it looked like that nightmare hadn’t ended. Not really. It reminded him that maybe it would never end. That he’d forever be haunted by the sins of his family.

All that passed through his head in the span of a few moments, a downward spiral like a rocket crashing from orbit. It drove him to his knees, gripping fistfuls of his hair as tears ran down his face, muttering to himself in a quiet droning:

“Nononononono…”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Adrienette #Tikki #Nino Lahiffe #Carapace #djwifi #ml fanfiction #my writing #Eating Habits #The Lucky One series

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missjanjie · 4 years

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Branjie Fic | Take Me Back to the Start (3/?)

Title: Take Me Back to the Start Summary: Everyone remembers their first love. Not everyone carries those feelings from childhood to senior year. Yet Brock is starting his last year of high school while still longing for the relationship he lost five years ago. Meanwhile, José is at the top of the food chain and seems to have it all together. But maybe their story isn’t over yet. Word Count: ~3.1k (this chapter) / ~9.6k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo) Rating: T (so far)

Read on AO3

After a couple of weeks, Brock and José found that working together was a second nature for them. They worked in sync, they listened and learned from each other, and while Brock was still unsteady about choreographing for a group, he felt that as a duo, they could actually come up with something that would win that qualifying position.

It was their fourth or fifth meeting - this one on their own time - and they were pretty sure they’d laid the groundwork for their routine. And they were pretty damn proud, if they did say so themselves. “Hey, what time is it?”

Brock reached around and grabbed his phone. “About a quarter to six. Why, you got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah, kinda.” He’d promised Kyle they would go see a movie that night, and he tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach that begged him to flake out. As José got up to leave, he turned back towards Brock with a soft, apologetic smile. He hesitated just a bit before speaking, almost as if he were willing away his nerves. “Listen, uh, my birthday’s coming up soon. I’m not goin’ wild or nothin’, but I’m having a party. And you know I can turn up at any party. Anyway, I want yo’ ass there.”

Of course, Brock knew exactly when his birthday was - he always felt especially lonely on that day. Early on, he used to reminisce on the birthdays they shared together, but lately it had become much easier to simply ignore it entirely. Either way, he brightened right up at the invitation. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Promise.”

José’s smile brightened. His heart was beating a little faster whether he liked it or not. “Yeah, you will,” he confirmed with a light laugh before they said their goodbyes. And he must have still had that smile plastered on his face when he reconvened with his boyfriend because he was getting an odd, borderline angry look.

“You enjoy your ‘practice,’ babe?” he asked with a suspicious raise in his brow.

“Why you gotta say it like that, huh?” His cheeks flushed red, which he could only hope didn’t come off as guilt. “It is practice. This shit’s important. You know that.”

Kyle rolled his eyes, “I also know you guys were a thing for years. And no, I don’t care that you were kids. Years are years and you can’t deny that.” Having known both boys for almost as long as they knew each other, he had witnessed tiny snippets of their relationship firsthand, leaving no room for denial.

José glared and grit his teeth. “The fuck are you accusing me of, huh? Tryna make me look bad to take the heat off yourself?”

The accusation earned him an annoyed scoff and a lack of eye contact. “Oh, cut the fucking temper tantrum, José. I’m just not gonna sit around while you have some Step Up fantasy with someone you’ve already had feelings for.”

“Don’t you think if I was tryna make that happen I woulda left yo two-timin’ ass already? You didn’t do shit to earn a second chance but beg and cry for it. And now you wanna point the fucking finger at me? Don’t even go there, boo.”

His rant must’ve made the impression he’d hoped for, as Kyle went silent and hung his head like a scolded child. “Okay, I get it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come at you like that, I do wanna have a good night with you.” He offered his hand out to the smaller male, waiting in anticipation to see if he’d still take it.

And he did, despite the fact that the nagging sense of doubt inside him was still there. But that was the first sincere sounding apology he’d ever gotten out of his boyfriend. That had to count for something, right? He would certainly keep telling himself as much if it meant he would be able to enjoy their date night.

------

“What do you mean you don’t know what to get him?” Courtney furrowed her brows, shaking her head incredulously. “I thought he used to be like, your entire world.”

Brock grimaced. “And we haven’t spoken in five years. I don’t know about you, but my tastes have changed since middle school. He could be a whole new person in that way, and I don’t wanna look like an idiot in front of him.”

Steve had his hands shoved into his pockets as they walked past store after store in the mall. “Why don’t you just get something like chocolates? Everyone loves chocolate, you can’t strike out on that,” he suggested.

But he waved that off, shaking his head. “No, no, that’s a cop-out. I’m not some distant relative that only comes around for the holidays. I want something that tells him that I care about him… but not like, overly so, you know?”

“Not really.”

“I just don’t want it to seem like I don’t give a fuck. Because I give several fucks. Constantly.”

Courtney placed her hand on his shoulder as they walked into a Macy’s. “I think it’s sweet that you want to show you care. But you shouldn’t overthink it so much. He’s probably just going to be happy that you’re there.”

Brock exhaled deeply as he looked around the store, then coughed a bit on the inhale as he was hit with an influx of various perfumes and colognes that filled the store. “Let’s just start looking for shiny things. I know he still likes shiny things.” He’d been able to ascertain that much from the time they’d spent together recently.

As it turned out, something adequately shiny and something within budget seemed to be incapable of existing within one object. It’d been at least fifteen minutes of wandering through the jewelry department, and the trio had started to become frustrated.

“What about a watch?” Courtney suggested. “My dad says that’s usually a go-to.”

“The only watches anyone under forty wears are Apple Watches,” Brock retorted, and it took another few minutes of circling around before something finally caught his eye. “What do you guys think of this?”

When the other two came up to see what he was looking at, they exchanged looks before both giving a thumbs-up in approval, and not a moment too soon.

------

Brock had been staring at himself in the mirror for a good couple of minutes. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was hoping to see - maybe a sudden burst of confidence that would assure him that he looked and felt ready to go.

Instead, he had to rely on his mother, who was losing her patience. “You’re going to be late, and not even fashionably late. Get a move on, I’ll be in the car.”

After another look in the mirror, he decided it was as good as it was going to get. He grabbed his jacket and the present and made his way out to the car, spending the entire ride completely silent. If he spoke, he’d just end up psyching himself out and making her turn back home.

“You’re going to have a great time, I’m sure of it. Call me when you’re done, but if you’re still out by midnight, take an Uber.”

Brock nodded in confirmation and gave his mom a quick hug before getting out and going into the restaurant. It was a nice place, the kind you would go to if you were treating yourself, but not somewhere that needed to be booked months in advance. The hostess was cheery as she guided him to the back room that was closed exclusively for the party, and there was no turning back from there.

There had to have been at least thirty or forty people in the room, talking and dancing amongst themselves, or eating and drinking off to the side. No one really acknowledged Brock’s presence, so he weaved his way through to set his gift down on the table along with the others, looking around in hopes of crossing paths with José one way or another.

And he did, eventually. José had managed to untangle himself from the group around him to make his way over to Brock. “You really showed up.”

“I promised I would.”

Despite the loud music and shouting teens, there was a sudden calmness between the two of them. The onslaught of indescribable noises faded into the background and for a moment it was like they were back at the roller skating rink, or any of the birthdays they’d shared together.

“I’m really happy you’re here.”

There seemed to be more that José wanted to say, but he was suddenly whisked away by a group of three girls that Brock recognized from the cheerleading team.

So, with a content smile, Brock turned to make his way towards the food when he bumped into someone blocking his path.

Kyle. Great.

“Can I help you?” He did his best to seem nonplussed, but he just couldn’t hide the irritation that seeped into his words. Even without an answer, he was trying to figure out how to maneuver around the jock.

“Oh, cut the shit.” Kyle shoved him back, effectively keeping him from slipping away. “He might be too stupid to catch onto your game, but I’m not. And I’m putting an end to it right now.”

Brock stood upright, puffing out his chest and narrowing his glare. If looks could kill, he’d be an effective assassin. “Don’t call him stupid,” he hissed. “Maybe if you treated him better, you wouldn’t be so paranoid.”

At this point, a few onlookers had gathered out of casual curiosity. Kyle had an aggressive reputation, after all. And although Brock didn’t have much of a reputation period, the fact that he held his own on a physical level was enough to pique some interest.

“You’re fucking delusional if you think he’s gonna run back to you just ‘cause you two used to play house,” he stepped closer, trying to intimidate him — which proved to be a bit difficult considering they were about the same height. He then tried to further the attempt by making a sharp, threatening motion towards him.

But Brock’s reflexes were fast — he pushed back with both hands to his chest, enough to send him stumbling back a couple of steps. Which, in retrospect, might have been the wrong move, as the next thing he knew, he had 185 pounds of football player lunging at him.

Now, Brock wasn’t a fighter, especially not a physical one. But his only other option was to lay down and let José’s boyfriend wail on him, and that simply wasn’t going to happen. So, he pushed back with all of his might, doing his best to hold his own while a crowd formed around them.

It was all a bit blurry — there was a loud ringing in his ear and his head was throbbing, and he was on the ground, down for the count. In the distance, though, he swore he heard a distinctly familiar voice shouting ‘what the fuck just happened?!’

José was out of breath when he caught up with the melee. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Kyle grunted, also splayed out on the floor and not in much better condition. “Ugh, yeah, think I just–“

“Shut the fuck up, I ain’t talking to you!” The absolute fury in his tone was enough to make everyone in earshot take a step back. But he wasn’t paying the crowd any mind as he dropped to his knees and crawled over to Brock’s side.

“How bad you hurtin’?” His voice had completely switched to a soft, gentle one — it was jarring to everyone around them. “You need me to call an amberlance or something?”

Brock groaned as he managed to sit himself up. His face hurt like a bitch, but he wasn’t bleeding or more than a little swollen. He was dizzy, enough to not even realize how much he was relying on José to hold him up, but was slowly managing to come back to reality. “No, just ice. Advil, maybe.”

“You heard the man! Ice and Advil! What’s the fucking hold up?” José wasn’t shouting to anyone in particular — just whoever got the job done the fastest.

And, sure enough, Brock did find himself on a couch with ice on his head and Advil in his system not long after. How long, exactly, was unclear. His mind was still a little fuzzy on the details.

The one detail that was clear, however, was that José had never left his side, and that fact made Kyle livid. Even with depleted energy, he was huffing and shouting as his friends escorted him out. “Does he blow up like that often?” he asked once he was feeling a bit more himself.

José gestured vaguely. “He got a temper.”

“He’s never hit you, has he?”

“Never, though sometimes I’d take that over his shouting rants. Motherfucker makes me look like one of them silent French clowns.”

“A mime?”

Despite everything, they both laughed at that. “Yeah, a mime.”

There were a few beats of silence before Brock turned to face him. “Why’s a guy like you with such a creep like that?”

José tilted his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “A guy like me?”

“Well, yeah,” Brock shrugged. “Someone kind, funny, thoughtful…” He could have gone on for so much longer, but he didn’t want to come on too strong. That, and he was still a bit out of it and knew that if he started to ramble he wouldn’t stop. “What’s he got going for him other than an athletic scholarship?”

It wasn’t that José never questioned his relationship; it was just easier to not think about it. This was how it was supposed to go – the head cheerleader and the quarterback, it was the classic high school romance, wasn’t it?

“It wasn’t always like this. He was good to me, treated me like a queen, his ride or die. I don’t know what happened,” he sighed and looked down. “I know I look the fool for even thinkin’ bout defending him, but I can’t just feel nothing for him just like that.”

Brock pressed his lips into a fine line and stared straight ahead of him. “I don’t think anyone expects you to stay with him after this, so the choice is really yours.” He was sure people filmed the fight, that it was already making the rounds on social media. His phone was bound to blow up any minute now, and he had no idea how he would tackle that. He couldn’t even think about that – he was still hung up on José‘s take on his relationship with that bully.

“Anyway,” he continued after what felt like an hour of awkward silence. “I’m gonna text my mom, should still probably go get checked out by a doctor.”

José stood right up. “Let me go with you,” he insisted.

Brock shook his head. “You’re not wasting my birthday sitting in the ER to see if I have a contusion.”

“Well, I’m not doing that because I don’t know what a contusion is. But I am going to make sure you didn’t get all fucked up.” He chewed on his lip and bounced uncomfortably on his feet. “‘Sides, this is kinda my fault anyway. He prob’ly wouldn’t have gone after you if he didn’t think you was gonna try something with me. I-I told him the truth, but he ain’t hearing it.”

Brock sighed softly and gently placed his hand on the shorter male’s shoulder. “None of this is your fault. The guy’s a psychopath and you got caught in the cross-hairs.” He gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “And I know you, and how stubborn you are. So I’ll let my mom know you’re coming with us.”

Despite his insistence on joining, the drive to the hospital was still filled with tension. It was dead silent, to the point where even Joan had given up any attempt at small talk within the first five minutes. And their stay in the waiting room proved to only be more silent torture. The worst part, perhaps, was that all of that was only to find out that Brock had sustained nothing more than a minor concussion, along with some scrapes and bruises.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” José remarked as they made their way back the way they came.

Brock looked at him with a weak smile. “Could’ve been a lot worse, I know.” His gaze shifted straightforward. “Are you going to check on him?”

“I mean, I should, right?”

“No!” He stopped in his tracks, causing José to come to a screeching halt. That was it. That was what made the dam burst. “Jesus Christ, don’t you get it? This is essentially the same boy that pushed us around while shouting ‘faggots,’ the only difference is now you’re letting him fuck you!” He took a breath, the last thing he needed to do was cause a scene in the middle of the hospital.

José found himself in a bind. He knew Brock was right, he didn’t need to think twice about that. But he wasn’t about to stand and get lectured and leave with his head hung low. His pride simply wouldn’t allow for that. “I took care of myself then, you don’t need to keep talkin’ at me like I’m still a child.”

“Then maybe you should stop acting like one.”

------

“Dude,” Courtney stared at him blankly. “What the fuck?”

Brock groaned, sprawling out on his bed and staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I was just… I was so angry. It wasn’t even about wanting to be with him, it was… How could that not be enough to break up with someone on the spot?”

“It sounds like it was a lot happening at once,” Steven chimed in. “Maybe he just needs to, I don’t know, process all of it.”

He sat up and furrowed his brows. “So, what are you saying? That I overreacted?”

Both of his friends shook their heads. “Honestly, I’m with you. I can’t fucking stand Kyle,” Courtney admitted. “But you said it yourself, José’s the most stubborn son of a bitch any of us have ever met. Maybe he’s in denial about it.”

“Give it a little time. He’ll come to his senses and be all yours before you know it.”

Brock ran his fingers over the bruise on his arm, still tender to the touch. “If that’s even what I still want by then.”

#branjie #branjie fic #rpdr fanfiction #rpdr rpf

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